The bonds of family are unbreakable.

Huntsman
Cambria Hebert
(House of Misfits, #3)
Publication date: August 13th 2021
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Fairy Tales, Retelling, Romance

Once upon a time…
A boy is sired with poison in his veins. He cannot outrun the venom in his blood, so he escapes from those who put it there. Secreting away his darkest tendencies, he grows to become a friend, brother, bartender…
Huntsman.

A man who becomes exactly what he ran from, a villain of his own making.
A villain who falls in love with the one woman he is told to steer clear of.
Enchanted by a girl with hair as brilliant as the sun and innocence as potent as his corruption.

A girl locked away in a tower and told she will never walk again.
This boy doesn’t want to be the villain in her story. For once, he desires to be a hero.
Regrettably, his past creeps in like thick, winding fog, reaching wickedly for the one he loves the most. A hero is no match for the rotten tree from which he fell.
Once a huntsman, always a huntsman.
Poisoning guaranteed.

**Huntsman is a contemporary romance novel – a modern retelling of the fairy tale Tangled. It is recommended that you read Ivory White (House of Misfits #1) before diving into Huntsman. This book does not have a cliff hanger and has a HEA

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EXCERPT:

“Is that your car?” she exclaimed. Her wheelchair halted in the middle of the sidewalk as she gaped at the vintage black Dodge Charger at the curb.

If most people—okay, literally any people—were to exclaim at my car like that, I’d be tempted to leave tread marks on their forehead as I sped off on the way to not giving a flying fuck.

But Virginia wasn’t any people. She was Neo’s little sister. So I bit back the biting reply to scratch behind my ear. “Well, I know it’s not exactly the cushy SUV Neo probably uses—”

“It’s way better!” Her arms flung up over her head in excitement. As they dropped, she rotated at the waist to find me with sparkling chestnut eyes. “Can I drive?”

It took me a heartbeat to digest the fact she liked the car and then another to realize she just asked to drive. Cheeky.

“Nobody drives my car but me.” I scowled.

Her lashes batted. “But I’m a really good driver.”

A con artist. Just like her brother.

“Don’t listen to her. She just ran over old Mr. Donaldson’s foot last week. The man acted like he was dying for days,” Emogen cracked from near the entrance to the Tower.

“Such a drama queen,” Virginia muttered. “He was wearing shoes.”

My lips curled inward so the scowl I favored so much couldn’t morph into a smile.

“Besides. It’s this clunky thing’s fault.” V patted the side of her wheelchair. “It’s clearly not as superb as this.” Her hands spread wide as if introducing the car.

“You wouldn’t be able to reach the pedals,” I told her on my way past to open up the passenger door.

A sound of horror filled the air. “How dare you discriminate against me because I’m short!”

I couldn’t help it. I smiled. Good thing I was facing inside the car when it happened. Wiping it off my face, I spun back, boots stomping over the uneven pavement as I closed the distance between us.

I didn’t like the way she craned her neck to stare up at me, and before I’d realized it, I’d dropped into a crouch in front of her chair, bringing us to eye level.

A little fissure of surprise flickered in her expression, but it was gone before I could really grasp hold.

Leaning in, I whispered, “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but… your legs don’t work.”

A delicate, small-fingered hand with yellow-painted nails flew up to cover her mouth. The shock pouring from her eyes made me frown. Had I gone too far?

A prickle of unfamiliar conscience stung the back of my neck, and my tongue started to move in apology before my lips even parted. “V—”

A little giggle bubbled out around the hand pressed against her lips.

My stare whipped up. Her eyes were glimmering, not with upset… but with humor.

More giggles burst out, and her narrow shoulders shook with it. A summer breeze blew down the street, tugging at a long strand of hair that had come loose from the braids she always wore. It wiggled around behind her like it, too, was laughing.

Her hand dropped, revealing a warm smile. “I missed you.”

Pause.

Those words were like a magic wand, the kind so powerful that, with just one flourish, it could put everything to sleep around you. Suddenly, the obnoxious city quieted. The scent of garbage always lingering in the streets disappeared. My fingers curled into my palms, tightening my hands into fists.

Author Bio:

Cambria Hebert is an award winning, bestselling novelist of more than twenty books. She went to college for a bachelor’s degree, couldn’t pick a major, and ended up with a degree in cosmetology. So rest assured her characters will always have good hair.

Besides writing, Cambria loves a caramel latte, staying up late, sleeping in, and watching movies. She considers math human torture and has an irrational fear of chickens (yes, chickens). You can often find her running on the treadmill (she’d rather be eating a donut), painting her toenails (because she bites her fingernails), or walking her chorkie (the real boss of the house).

Cambria has written within the young adult and new adult genres, penning many paranormal and contemporary titles. Her favorite genre to read and write is romantic suspense. A few of her most recognized titles are: The Hashtag Series, Text, Torch, and Tattoo.

Cambria Hebert owns and operates Cambria Hebert Books, LLC.

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Catwalk
Nicole Gabor
Publication date: July 6th 2021
Genres: Coming of Age, Young Adult

Eighteen-year-old, shy, suburban aspiring model Cat Watson suddenly has it all as the New York fashion world’s new “It” girl and she thinks she has everything she ever dreamed of—until she realizes be careful what you wish for, you just might get it.

Leaving her good-girl image behind, Cat quickly learns things aren’t always what they seem on the catwalk, and she’s faced with a decision that will change her life forever.

WILMINGTON, Delaware, May 12, 2021

When 18-year-old Catherine Watson disobeys her parents and ditches her Ivy-league acceptance to start fresh as an aspiring model in New York City, a chance encounter with fashion world bigwigs gives her a world-class agent plus a boyfriend she only dreamed about. But as she navigates the fickle world of modeling, she realizes that to get ahead, she’ll have to leave herself behind—but is it worth it? Catwalk is an expertly written tale of first love, coming of age, and high-fashion, from award-winning author and editor Nicole Gabor, inspired by her own experiences as a runway model.

In her suburban hometown, Catherine had what most would consider a charmed life: a 4.0 GPA, a good-guy boyfriend who had his whole life planned out down to the two kids, two dogs, two-car garage—and it scared her to death. She wasn’t ready to follow a traditional path to a paint-by-numbers existence. She longed for adventure, for a life less…ordinary. When Catherine moves away to pursue her modeling dream in New York City and moves in with Jon-Michelle “Jonnie” who tackles the newly-named “Cat” as “her next project,” she revels in her newfound career, thinking “this is what it’s like to be young and beautiful in the greatest city in the world.”

“At that moment, it hit me. I was a mere mortal in a room full of demigods: actors, actresses, bygone legends of the stage and screen; men and women who had traipsed down red carpets all of their lives, whom the rest of the country, no, the world, had pined for, had paid to know the secrets of. Here I was standing among them, cavorting with twenty-first century royals.”

Cat meets Seth, a beautiful and kind but troubled New York scenester, the son of a ‘70s fashion model icon who fatally overdosed during her prime, and she feels strangely protective. She wants to save him like he saved her on her first night out on the town in New York City’s gritty yet swanky meatpacking district club scene.

When Cat is “discovered” by the one and only Philippe Borghetta, the hottest fashion designer in the pages of Vogue magazine, she thinks she has it all. Her life is thrust into an alternate universe, where star-studded cocktail parties, casting calls, go-sees, and nightclub openings revolve around her like constellations. She tries to play the part. Her former self, “Catherine,” was now a shadow of who she was and what she was becoming.

Cat thinks she’s finally gotten what she wanted all along—a chance to start over, a redo, a refresh. But as the lines blur between who she once was and who she wants to be, she’s reminded of her mother’s words, “Sometimes the things that are most worth fighting for are the things you already have.” Cat finds she has to make a decision that will change her life—and possibly the modeling world—forever.

Drawing on her own experiences in the fast-paced fashion model industry, former model and author of more than twenty children’s books, Nicole Gabor masterfully weaves a timeless story of self-discovery, coming of age, and the heartache of first loves. Catwalk is her debut young adult/new adult novel, available July 2021 wherever books are sold.

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EXCERPT:

My parents stared at me from across the kitchen table, stunned. They looked as though I’d just told them that our 12-year-old lab, Holly, had died.

I watched the wrinkles on my mother’s forehead get deeper and darker, and it seemed like she was aging right before my eyes. Was her hair turning gray? I once heard that former First Lady Barbara Bush’s hair turned gray overnight from the shock and grief of losing her baby daughter.

But I was not dead, or even dying. I was alive, and in the flesh. And I had just told my parents that I, Catherine Watson, their only daughter — the one with the 4.0 grade point average who my stay-at-home mother hoped would become a successful career woman, and my father secretly wished would follow in his footsteps as a lawyer — was not going to college after all.

I was, in fact, moving to New York City. To be a fashion model.

As I spoke, my letter of decline to the University of Pennsylvania’s College of Arts and Sciences was signed, sealed, and on its way to the admissions office. My mother cried and said that I was breaking her heart. My father yelled and said that I was ruining my life. Part of me feared they were right. To be honest, I couldn’t believe I’d actually gotten up the nerve to send that letter. I’d always listened to my parents, did the “right” thing. Never cut class. Been teacher’s pet. Made curfew. But I was sick of following the rules.

With my high school graduation just behind me, the idea of more school — only to be followed by an office job that would imprison me within four gray walls — was something that I couldn’t succumb to yet, if ever.

I was ready for adventure, for excitement, for a life less … ordinary. And I had a hunch that plenty of people stuck to the safe roads, so maybe, just maybe, I could make it on a path where everyone else wasn’t taking up so much space.

Of course, it did seem an odd choice. I’d always been so ashamed of the attributes that could, quite possibly, make me a model. Lanky and lean at 6 feet tall, I had a way of sticking out in the hallways, towering over most of the female (and many of the male) teachers. Growing up, I’d tried everything I could to blend in, to bulk up, to deny my stature: I drank milkshakes. Dressed in layers. Only wore flats. Avoided stretching in gym glass. Never stood next to the short boys in line.

But then, one day, something happened. My mother took me to Victoria’s Secret in Philadelphia to pick out my first fancy grown-up bra for my birthday. I was eying the “extreme lift” padded pushups (which I was sure would jumpstart my love life), when a woman tapped me on the shoulder and asked if I wanted to be a model. Just like that.

“She just turned 14,” my mother said, looking a bit puzzled and slightly irritated. “I think she’s a little young, don’t you?”

“She’s perfect,” said the older woman, who was in her sixties and dressed far more fashionably than my 45-year-old mother.

She couldn’t possibly be talking about me, I thought. Is this some sort of practical joke? A sick, twisted joke? I looked around expecting to see some mean girls from school, but the place was virtually empty. I turned back around, feeling my face flush.

“You … you think I could model?” I stammered.

“I think you’re wasting your talent if you don’t,” she said. “Here’s my card. Call me when your mother changes her mind.”

But she never did. And neither did my father. Despite all my begging and pleading. My parents said that high school was more important, that getting into college was more important. That anything was more important than “aspiring toward such a frivolous pursuit.”

So I did what any girl in my situation would do. I stomped up the stairs, slammed the door, and screamed and cried into my pillow. But for the first time in my life, I felt like something special. Someone special. And my parents were not going to take that away from me.

Author Bio:

Nicole is a published author of more than 20 children's picture books and an award-winning health writer and editor. Her debut young adult/new adult fiction novel Catwalk is inspired by her experiences living and working in New York City as a model. She's also a freelance writer at Highlights for Children and a senior editor at KidsHealth.org, the web's most-visited site for children's health. She lives in Delaware with her husband, three children, and their Goldendoodle named Ginger. Learn more at www.nicolegabor.com

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Highland Beast
Amy Jarecki
(The King’s Outlaws, #3)
Published by: Oliver Heber Books
Publication date: June 29th 2021
Genres: Adult, Historical Romance

When Sir Arthur Campbell leads an attack claiming Dunstaffnage Castle for Robert the Bruce, he is rewarded with both the keep and surrounding lands. As he assumes the lairdship, he finds a saboteur within his ranks. He sets a trap to ensnare the culprit, only to discover the rebel is none other than Rhona MacDougall—the only woman he has ever loved.

After her clan is devastated by war, Rhona refuses to bend to Arthur’s whims. Aye, he once stole her heart, but that was before he fought against her kin. When in his presence, she plays the demure lady, though behind the scenes, she’s doing everything in her power to subvert his authority. And she thinks she has him fooled…until he beats the lass at her own game.

Prepared to meet his condemnation, Rhona bravely stands before this man whom she has deemed a beast. But Arthur confronts her with a proposition she never dreamed possible—if she proves that she can change. If not, the desire long ago burned onto their souls just might hold them both captive for eternity.

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EXCERPT:

Arthur followed Rhona to the well. “I’d be grateful if ye’d pour a bit of water over my hands.”

Her gaze slid to his chest while her lips parted, emitting the slightest of gasps. By the grace of God, he liked having her eyes upon him and the way her pupils grew larger. She raised the bucket and started a stream.

“Ye’ve had practice,” he said, rubbing his hands clean.

“Aye, everyone kens me to be the bucket-wielding widow.”

He chuckled as she set the pail down, picked up the hem of her apron, and set to drying his hands. Her touch was firm, yet gentle, the linen, soft and soothing. “Ye’ve had a difficult time of it over the years, have ye not?” he asked, his tone gentle.

His hands were dry, yet she continued to rub the cloth over them and up his forearms. “Things haven’t been all that bad. Ivor and I were only married a year, and he’s been gone so long, his memory is fading. I suppose it was difficult at first, but now I have Gran to look after and my patients, of course.”

“And you enjoy your work?”

Rhona’s apron fell away as she gripped his hands. “I do. Being a healer gives me a sense of purpose.”

“Just being yourself is purpose enough for me.”

She took a step nearer and raised her chin. “Ye oughtn’t remove your shirt when visiting a…um…widow.”

“Forgive—”

Within a heartbeat, she wrapped her arms around him and fused her lips to his in a passionate, burning, demanding kiss, expressing more emotion than she had during the entire day of conversation. Her tongue swirled with his in a bone-melting, fire-igniting dance. A kiss that promised to lead to so much more with frantic caressing. The discarding of clothes. The erotic sensation of flesh brushing flesh, of taut nipples, of heady, steamy, moist--

Dear God, Arthur’s knees nearly buckled as she pressed her body against his. Her breasts molded to his chest, her mons connected with his cock, making him harder and more ravenous than he’d ever been in his life.

“Forgive me,” Rhona sighed, her head dropping back. “I should not have kissed ye.”

“Never say that. Kissing you makes me forget who I am. What I’ve done. When I kiss ye, I am the only man in the world and you the only woman.” Arthur brushed his lips across hers. “I never want to stop.”

“But I’m not the same lass ye fell in love with over that fanciful summer. Nor are ye the same lad. We both have our crosses to bear.”

He moved his palms to her shoulders and took a step back. “What are ye saying?”

“I know not.” Shaking her head, Rhona hid her face in her palms. “Whenever we are together, I am always so confused.”

“Are you muddled because of the rift between Lorn and the Bruce?”

“Aye,” she said, her voice uncertain. “Ye ken I must be faithful to my granduncle and to my clan.”

“Hmm.” He pressed his lips to her forehead and closed his eyes tightly. By the gods, he wanted her more than life’s breath, but she needed to want him with equal fervor and without a rift tearing apart her heart. The lass was too conflicted and until she reconciled her loyalties, she would not love him as much as he loved her. No matter how much he wanted to bend his knee and ask the question to make her his, he mustn’t push her. “I’ve been away from my post for long enough. I must be heading back.”

As he released her, she stepped away. “Now?”

He bowed. “My thanks for an enjoyable afternoon spent in your company, mistress. Mayhap we can sing another round of ‘The Twa Sisters’ again soon.”

With that, he straightened and walked away. It took a will of iron, but Arthur did not look back.

Author Bio:

Multi-Award winning and Amazon Bestselling author, Amy Jarecki likes to grab life, latch on and reach for the stars. She's married to a mountain-biking pharmacist and has put four kids through college. She studies karate, ballet, yoga, and often you'll find her hiking Utah's Santa Clara Hills. Reinventing herself a number of times, Amy sang and danced with the Follies, was a ballet dancer, a plant manager, and an accountant for Arnott's Biscuits in Australia. After earning her MBA from Heroit-Watt University in Scotland, she dove into the world of historical romance and hasn't returned. Become a part of her world and learn more about Amy's books on amyjarecki.com, find her on Facebook and Twitter as @amyjarecki.

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Lessons in Sin
Pam Godwin
Publication date: June 29th 2021
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

There’s no absolution for the things I’ve done.
But I found a way to control my impulses.
I became a priest.

As Father Magnus Falke, I suppress my cravings. As the headteacher of a Catholic boarding school, I’m never tempted by a student.

Until Tinsley Constantine.

The bratty princess challenges my rules and awakens my dark nature. With each punishment I lash upon her, I want more. In my classroom, private rectory, and bent over my altar, I want all of her.

One touch risks everything I stand for. My faith. My redemption. And even my life.

As if that could stop me. I need her pain, and her heart, and she needs my lessons in sin.

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EXCERPT:

The sweetest heaven.

My heaven, my salvation—neither of which I deserved.

The lemony scent of her sank into my lungs as I took and took, and she had no choice but to be taken. She was my charge after all. Mine to instruct. Mine to discipline.

Mine.

I kissed her with all the pent-up hunger of the last six weeks. She echoed my intensity, stroking my lips and tongue with eager, impish caresses as though my mouth held what she most needed to exist. I wanted to give it to her, and I did. With a palm on one of her bottom cheeks, I squeezed the firm curve of it, punishing her sensitized welts.

Her moan shuddered through the night. Her kiss shuddered through me, and my brain stopped functioning. We could’ve been the last humans in the world, for all I felt was her.

Just her, the woman who made me so painfully hard, and the cocoon of darkness that was our freedom from the outside world.

I ground my cock against her, telling her with my body what I should never again demand with words. I wanted her innocence, her pleasure, her pain. I wanted her completely, no matter how wrong.

“Magnus.” My name was a plea, her voice pitched with lust and longing.

It only heightened the ache. I ached with the pressure of hard heat. Ached with the knowledge that I only needed to lower my zipper and thrust beneath her skirt.

The thought made me frantic, and I kissed her harder, deeper, needing more, more, more.

I tore my mouth away and spun her around. The blankets tripped up her legs, and she stumbled. I didn’t help her. I shoved her. To her knees, onto her chest, I followed her down to the tangled pile of fleece.

I couldn’t stop my hands from sliding up the backs of her thighs. Couldn’t stop my fingers from pinching and twisting the welts on her hot little ass.

A scream rippled out of her, spurring me to fall upon her and ride her, grinding, dry humping as my fingers fumbled with my zipper. Mindless, feral, I wanted inside her with every drop of my blood. And hers. I wanted to make her bleed.

Her neck turned, bringing her gaze over her shoulder, her eyes bright with female awareness. Her hair dragged through the mud, her face and hands coated with it.

Everything inside me stilled.

This was wrong.

She shouldn’t be held down like this. Not in the mud. Not in the cold. And never ever with me.

“No,” I whispered. Then louder. “No.”

I shoved away from her, driving myself back across the wet earth while battling every desire to claim her.

“What are you doing?” She pushed up, wincing as she rolled to her butt. “Why did you stop?”

“I’m hurting you.”

“No, you’re not.”

“I will.”

“You won’t.” Breath burst from her lungs on a loud guffaw. “I won’t allow it.”

I sprung to my feet, roaring, “I was seconds from taking your virginity in the mud like a fucking animal!”

“Because I was giving it to you!” She stood, too, her knuckles whitening around fists at her sides. “If you want it, it’s yours. I’d much rather get rid of it with you than with Tucker Kensington or some other fumbling boy.”

“I’m not fucking you. Not now. Not ever.” Pounded by fury, I paced, circled a tree, returned to her side, and exploded. “So help me God, if you so much as give Tucker your mouth, I’ll bloody your damn hide so completely you won’t be able to sit for a month. Do I make myself clear?”

“Oh, Miss girl. Is that supposed to be a threat?”

Miss girl? Did she think I was joking around? That this was a laughing matter?

“No one touches you!” My voice thundered with my rage, scaring off whatever was in the trees.

She stumbled back.

I stayed with her, shoving my face in hers.

“Do I make myself clear?”

Her eyes squeezed shut. Then she spun away without another word.

Author Bio:

New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today bestselling author, Pam Godwin, lives in the Midwest with her husband, their two children, and a foulmouthed parrot. When she ran away, she traveled fourteen countries across five continents, attended three universities, and married the vocalist of her favorite rock band.

Java, tobacco, and dark romance novels are her favorite indulgences, and might be considered more unhealthy than her aversion to sleeping, eating meat, and dolls with blinking eyes.

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The Imperial Orchid
Nicola Italia
Publication date: June 22nd 2021
Genres: Historical Romance

At the end of the Victorian era, Orchid Mania has gripped the wealthy and aristocratic men of England. Collectors are willing to spend a small fortune to obtain the rare flowers from distant lands. Lord Holloway, president of the Royal Horticultural Society in London, has decided to finance an expedition team to Ceylon to capture one of the rarest orchids on earth.

Frances Wakefield is an educated woman and a gifted illustrator and has traveled throughout Europe documenting various plants and flowers for the Society. When Lord Holloway handpicks her to travel to Ceylon as a member of the expedition team, she is thrilled.

When she lands in Egypt to meet the other team members, she comes face-to-face with Miles St. Clair, Lord Holloway’s son and heir. He is the arrogant, handsome, insufferable man she encountered at several soirees in London and the team’s leader.

Frances soon learns the trip to Ceylon is to find a very rare orchid. But someone has been watching Lord Holloway’s expedition team, and treachery is afoot. While the expedition intensifies, so does the growing attraction between Miles and Frances, who must work together if they hope to make it out of Ceylon alive.

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EXCERPT:

Miles rubbed his chin and felt the growth of a day’s beard. He could barely remember the night before except that he had lost a goodly sum on whist, and he vaguely recalled a blonde half-naked in his arms.

He opened his eyes gingerly and saw that there was no blonde in sight, and he was indeed lying in a bed in one of his favorite brothels. The curtains covering the windows were crimson red, and the bed was a plush mattress in an ornate wooden frame with baby cupids detailed in the artwork. He groaned as his head ached; he had lost count of the number of whiskeys he had consumed the night before.

He contemplated looking for his trousers and getting dressed, but he knew that would cause his head to pound more. He preferred to lie in bed a while more until he felt a little better.

A sharp knock fell upon the door, and he looked up, wincing. He looked around but knew he was very much alone. Had the blonde returned? He wasn’t up for any more love play.

“Come in,” he called out.

He grinned with relief when his companion and long-time friend from university, Percival Browne, entered the room.

“You look like half-baked shit,” Percival told his friend as he picked up Miles’s trousers from the floor. Miles groaned as he caught the pants Percival flung at him.

“I don’t remember much of last night, Percy. Except that I lost a fair amount, and there was a blonde.” He tossed the bed sheets back and pulled on his trousers.

“Do you see my shir—” he began just as the clothing article hit him in the face.

“Cheers, mate,” Percival said as he took a chair opposite the bed. Miles narrowed his eyes at his friend as he pulled his shirt on.

“And did you say, ‘lost a fair amount?’” Percy eased the chair back. “If I recall the exact amount you lost as the correct amount, your best bet is to go to America and start afresh, so your father doesn’t skin you alive.”

Author Bio:

Nicola spent her childhood in Los Angeles. As a young student in elementary school, she had a great fondness for reading and began to write creatively. She graduated from university with a degree in communications and held a variety of positions in journalism, education, government and non profit.

Nicola has traveled extensively throughout Europe, China and Central America.
Nicola's goal is to create rich characters with a strong male lead and a passionate female lead.

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The Day We Die
Autumn Bluestone
(Branded, #1)
Publication date: August 26th 2021
Genres: Dystopian, Young Adult

It’s the year 2070, and everything in Tessa’s life has gone wrong. She didn’t expect to be Branded—a process created to preserve her country’s precious resources—with the terrifyingly young age of sixteen, or for tragedy to befall all her childhood friends. She didn’t expect to be left this alone. Four years after everything crumbled apart, Tessa is sixteen, preparing to board the Bus that gathers the expired before mysteriously disposing of them; and searching desperately for anything that could make her life worth living. Then she meets someone she never expected to see, and Tessa knows within seconds that they will forever be linked by their pasts. Struggling to cope with her low brand, survive the endless flow of mental and physical attacks pounding her and the other expirees, and find purpose amid the storm of pain that is her life, Tessa would be falling apart if it weren’t for the boy that just keeps piecing her back together. She’s closer to death than ever before. Will Tessa survive, or will the attacks by the government—and her own mind—ultimately destroy her?

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EXCERPT:

The noises of the crowd and the mayor’s voice fade into the background, and for a moment, the only sound that cuts into my head is the frenzied beating of my own heart. The stage blurs in and out of focus, and my breathing quickens and my heart thunders like a racehorse. I clench my hands into tight fists, trying to quell the tremors racing through them.

This is it. In a few minutes, I will be Branded. An adult—though not in age. I’ll know my fate, my future; everything that means anything.

I inhale. Exhale. The air squeezes out of me in one quick rush, and for a split second, I can’t breathe. Fear wraps its unforgiving fingers around my heart, chilling it to the core.

Then, a hand on my arm. A whisper of a voice in my ear.

“It’ll be okay. Here.” It’s the boy beside me.

I shake my head vigorously, and the thundering applause rushes back to my ears. It’s loud. Very loud. I blindly accept whatever the boy is offering me, and a round tablet drops into my palm.

He gently holds on to my hand behind his back, smiling and waving fearlessly at the crowd. His expression is brave and bright, his unfamiliar fingers warm around mine. I squeeze them until I’m sure I’ve cut off his circulation, but he doesn’t let go—just gives me a gentle squeeze in return.

I look wordlessly at him, my dry tongue unable to make a sound. He’s taller than me, wearing a black tux. Blond, tousled hair frames a good-looking face—sharp jawline, arched brows, a charming twinkle in his eye. As he waves, his gaze sweeps to me…and a quiet, grim smile plays at his mouth. His steady eyes sharpen as they meet mine, boring into my soul. Blue eyes. Soft blue.

Author Bio:

Autumn Bluestone was born in Toronto and raised in the rural community of Erin, Ontario Canada. The daughter of an English teacher, Autumn was an avid reader and lover of stories at a young age. She first took an interest in writing when she was ten years old and has nurtured this passion into her debut novel, The Day We Die. You can find her surrounded by books in her little stone farmhouse, writing with a mug of hot chocolate in hand, or wandering outside with her rambunctious dog and much-loved chickens and ducks.

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The Hidden Princess
Mira Crest
(Princess League, #1)
Publication date: April 16th 2020
Genres: Fantasy, Young Adult

Penny is an ugly princess born to a family known for its beautiful offspring. To protect the royal bloodline’s reputation, the king proclaims her dead since birth and locks her away in the castle cellar.

But unbeknown to most, including herself, Penny has a gift: she can see the darkness within one’s mind through touch.

Everett is a dragon prince whose land is plagued by a deadly sickness in the form of black mist, capable of turning any fairy being it touches into stone. He comes to Penny’s kingdom seeking the one princess foretold to end the darkness.

The choice is clear, it’s either Penny’s cynical eldest sister, Tatiana, or her kind elder sister, Sarah, because Penny does not exist, not officially. But a twist of fate and Penny’s gift bring her to Everett’s attention, and she takes on a secret identity to aid him to trace the origin of the black mist.

What follows is a journey into a dark magical world within the minds of the corrupt, ruled by demons that plague on the dark aspects of the human psyche.

With the clock fast ticking, the prince must discover who the chosen one is in order to defeat the black mist before it turns him to stone and spreads to the rest of the world. But there are those who will do anything to keep Penny’s identity hidden.

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EXCERPT:

The shopkeeper grabbed the doll from among the top shelves. “Here you go.” He handed it to her. Just then, her fingers met his, and she heard the shopkeeper’s voice. “Where did this hideous and filthy-looking girl come from? Good thing I noticed her fast, lest she would get my dolls tainted with her hands. Let’s hope she leaves soon.”

She gazed at the shopkeeper, whose mouth remained closed. Those words stung. Even though the shopkeeper never said them, Penny knew they held more truth than those he said. These were his thoughts, and she was reading them when she accidentally touched him.

Then she felt dizzy, and a gloom fell over the store as if something had suddenly blocked out the sunlight from the windows. But it wasn’t the windows. It was the shopkeeper. His form emitted an ominous light and right above his head, she saw black mist rising, forming the shape of a face with eerie glowing eyes. It stared straight at Penny. “Penny…Penny….” Penny heard an insidious voice calling her.

Stop! Stop! She willed her mind to look away.

“Penny…Penny!” A force pulled her back and she almost crumpled to the floor if Thomas had not held her firmly. “Are you alright?” he asked.

“There’s someone–!” Penny pointed toward the shopkeeper, who was frowning at her. The eerie face and black mist were gone.

“What is it?” Thomas asked.

It took her a while before she spoke again. “I don’t know. It was there a while ago.” As she looked down, she saw the doll lying on the floor. She picked it up and slowly stroked any dust off it as if it were a real girl.

“How much is it?” he asked the beleaguered keeper.

“Four silver pieces.” Thomas handed the silver to the shopkeeper. A look of relief appeared on his face as he took the money. The horror of the black mist weighed heavy on Penny’s mind as she made her way out. She recalled the mean thoughts of the shopkeeper. For a moment, she had believed the outside world was different and she finally found a place she belonged. Penny blinked hard as her eyes began to water.

Suddenly, the streets seemed less joyful than before, and the sounds of the people and activities seemed drowned out by the memory of the black mist.

That voice. It called her name.

She knew for certain it was no hallucination. It was the first time such a vision had occurred. She never saw it when she touched others before, although there weren’t really that many, to begin with. There were only a few who could tolerate standing within inches of her.

She must have drifted off in her thoughts because the next thing she knew, she had fallen behind Thomas and someone bumped into her from the side.

“Watch where you are going, you–!” A rough-looking man said. “Hey, little girl, are you lost?”

“No.”

“Don’t be afraid, I just want to help. Let me take you home.” He grabbed her by the arm.

“Stop it, let me go!” Penny tried to pry his fingers free.

“This must be my lucky day. I wonder how much this girl would fetch.” She heard the man’s voice, yet his mouth remained closed.

She stared at the man, who stood there, frozen in time. Not just him. The entire town had come to a standstill. A ball was floating in the air, as the boy who threw it waited an eternity for it to fall back down.

Then, the surroundings turned black, and the black mist appeared around the man’s frame. The eyes of the black misty face shone a pale white.

“Penny…Penny…” spoke the insidious voice.

“NO!” Penny screamed and forced her eyes shut. At once, the darkness lifted, and the sounds of reality replaced the heavy silence. “Get away from me!” she screamed with her real voice audible.

“Hey!” A familiar voice said, and the rough-looking man turned around, his face meeting head-on with a big fist. The man fell to the ground before Penny. “Touch her again, and you will never touch anything for the rest of your life!”

The man crawled to his feet and bolted. “Penny, didn’t I tell you not to—Penny? Penny!” Penny ran off before Thomas could finish his sentence.

Penny kept running. All she wanted then was to get as far away as possible from this place, from the prejudice, the black mist.

She didn’t know how long she ran before Thomas finally caught up with her. “Penny, it’s alright now.” He wrapped his hands around her head, and she tucked her head in his tummy. “What happened, Penny? Please tell me.”

Penny told Thomas about all that had happened. The black mist, the eerie face. Although Thomas understood little of it, he listened, for he knew there was always much truth in what she said. The world wasn’t as great as Penny thought out to be. It broke his heart she had to learn this fact on her first outing.

The outing had come to an end, and they returned to the castle. The one happy thing the outing brought her was the doll she bought. She gave her a name. Cinder. And she became Penny’s companion ever since.

She thought of the boy named Canyon, and how he was the only person without disdain for her, though, she wondered if it would be the same way if she touched him and read his mind.

But most of all, she wondered about the black mist. What was it? And that eerie face. Who, or rather, what was it? What disturbed her most was the fact that it called her name like it was reaching into her mind.

Author Bio:

Since young, Mira loves fantasy romance with strong female protagonists and perilous adventures to magical realms and parallel universes to visit dragons, witches, shifters, and fairy tale creatures, bringing heroes and heroines together and aiding their epic fantasy battles against dark enemies so they can have the happily-ever-afters they deserve.
When she grew up, she takes a liking to young adult stories, which explains her passion writing in the young adult fantasy romance genre. Her books are clean romance with character development as the prime focus. Even now, she still journeys to fantasy realms whenever she's not writing.

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Magician Rising
Renée des Lauriers
Publication date: May 25th 2021
Genres: New Adult, Urban Fantasy

Dark powers she can’t control. Deadly hunters tracking her down. Can she rip the target off her back before it turns fatal?

Jun Bear has lived with bad luck all her life. And when a professor threatens to give her a failing grade, the college senior sees her hopes for graduating in two months going down another ill-fated drain. But her fortunes plunge further when an unnatural earthquake shakes the campus and unleashes cold-blooded assassins after her head…

Unsure what’s happening, Jun finds herself facing a trained killer intent on exposing the wielder of the dangerous magic. And when she’s provoked into revealing her unexpected new abilities, she’s determined to prove her innocence before she’s permanently eliminated.

Can she win over an ally and survive a bloodthirsty secret society fixated on wiping her out?

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EXCERPT:

Jeff scowled. If this punk stole something, would he get fired? If it was the wrong thing, maybe. So Jeff stopped at the end of the aisle, straightening cans, just close enough to notice the kid was muttering to himself. Jeff sidled closer.

But that didn’t stop the boy from pulling something off the shelf, ripping it open, and eating it right in front of him. Oh, hell no.

“Umm, are you going to pay for that?”

The kid ignored him, jamming another handful into his mouth.

“Hey, kid, I said…” Jeff trailed off. The kid was shoving batteries into his mouth, chomping on them like they were carrot sticks. What the fuck?

As he stared, the kid dropped the package of AAs and ripped into another. Chewing and snorting like a pig as he ate.

“Is this some sort of reality TV show?” Jeff looked over his shoulder. “Kevin? Maggie? You can come out now, I’m not buying this. It’s not funny. You can stop now.”

But no one answered. There was no hey, you got me. No hidden camera crew came out and explained what was going on. Just some weird kid making his way through a twenty count package of batteries. Must be drugs then. People did all sorts of crazy things on drugs.

That’s it. Jeff didn’t like being pushy, but he was going to have to put his foot down. If the boy was high, there was no telling what other crazy stuff he was going to pull. Jeff tapped on his shoulder. “Excuse me, but I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”

The kid turned and smiled in a rictus of jagged teeth, ringed with blood. His pupils were constricted into sharp points that didn’t meet Jeff’s gaze as he crammed the last handful of batteries into his mouth.

Oh, shit.

Author Bio:

Renée was raised by a folk singer and an accountant to be analytically creative. From thirteen, she played guitar and sang on stage at coffee shops. She also oil painted and wrote poetry on odd paper scraps. Besides writing, Renee has worked as an emergency medical technician and a high school English teacher. Now she lives in California with her family.

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Gambit
C.L. Denault
(The Prodigy Chronicles, #1)
Publication date: April 3rd 2021
Genres: Dystopian, Romance, Science Fiction, Young Adult

The Core wants her DNA. She wants her freedom. Let the game begin.

In Earth’s battle-ridden future, humans have evolved. Those with extraordinary skills rise to power and fame. Those without live in poverty.

Sixteen-year-old Willow Kent believed she was normal. But when a genetically-advanced military officer shows up in her village and questions her identity, long-buried secrets begin to emerge. With remarkable skills and a shocking genetic code the Core and its enemies will do anything to obtain, Willow suddenly finds the freedom she craves slipping through her fingers. Greed, corruption, and genetic tampering threaten every aspect of her existence as she’s thrust, unwilling, into the sophisticated culture of the elite Core city. To ensure peace, she must leave the past behind, marry a man she’s never met, and submit to the authority of a relentless officer with a hidden agenda of his own.

Her life has become a dangerous game. How much will she sacrifice in order to win?

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EXCERPT:

I stood at the hearth to warm myself. The heat felt good against the room’s deep chill, and the dancing flames intrigued me. My family couldn’t afford wood as a fuel source. Trees were a precious resource in the Outlying Lands. Burning them required a permit and cost a fortune. Given the heaping pile of logs stacked beside the fireplace, neither of those obstacles had been a problem for Reece.

He approached me with another strange device. “Turn and face me.”

I did as he asked, noting the way firelight flickered over his dark hair and reflected off his eyes. The effect was startling. Who was this man, that he gave the order for a bluster’s death one moment and shimmered like a cat the next?

The device he held began to glow. A warm ray of light extended above me and washed over my entire body. When it finished, an image in my shape hovered above his palm. A red dot blinked on the lower right half.

Exactly where my dagger was hidden.

“Well, look at that,” he said. “My little butterfly has a stinger.”

I took a step back, knowing what he was going to ask of me. But I wouldn’t give it up, not the gift Mum had given me long ago, the one valuable thing I owned.

“Hand it over, Morrigan.”

“Don’t call me that. My name is Willow.”

He shrugged. “If you prefer. Now do as I say.”

I hesitated, and his icy-blue eyes narrowed.

“We can handle this one of two ways. Either you give up your weapon willingly, or I take it from you. And I assure you, I won’t be gentle about it.”

“But this is my only protection,” I said slowly.

“You won’t need it. I’m all the security you require.”

I didn’t want his security. I had my own, and his silky arrogance was starting to get on my nerves, calling forth an unreasonable yet potent desire to challenge him. “My mum gave it to me. It’s mine, and you’re not taking it.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “Oh, yes, I am. I won’t risk your attacking me when my back is turned.”

“It’s not for attacking, it’s for defending,” I argued irritably. “Which is exactly what I’ll do if you come any closer.”

“You are no match for me,” he said, with a husky laugh. An infuriating smile played at the corner of his mouth. “Do yourself a favor, and cease this childish game before you get hurt.”

Something desperate slid through my belly, hot and unrecognizable. It shook me with its intensity, and I had no strength against its will. Retreating another step, I felt for the weapon through my skirt. Vibrations tingled across my palms, and the skill’s power rushed through my veins. When I pictured the flat, silver surface of the blade, it trembled inside the scabbard as if ready to leap into my hand.

Let him try for it. He would regret laughing at me.

“Keep your distance,” I warned him, “or we’ll see who gets hurt.”

Author Bio:

C.L. Denault is a speculative fiction writer who loves dreaming up tales of adventure and intrigue. A former systems analyst, she gave up her nerdy code-writing skills to care for her family (including a son with special needs) and currently lives among the vast stretches of cornfields in Illinois.

Writing and working out are her biggest passions, along with coffee and sci-fi. When she’s not hanging out with her husband and kids, she can usually be found at a library or tucked away in the shadowy corner of a hip coffeehouse. She’s also been glimpsed sneaking into her garage, late at night, to work on her time machine.

She enjoys connecting with people—especially those from other planets, nearby dimensions, and the future. To find her, just visit her website or social media pages. Or use a Stargate. Whichever is easiest.

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