Sunday, April 14, 2024
Wednesday, April 10, 2024
Cover Reveal Marked Under the Midnight Sun by Susanna Strom #CoverReveal
Tuesday, April 02, 2024
Release Day Blitz The Holy Man’s Sinner by T. M. Smith
Excerpt:
“Tell me about these selfless acts which will heal me.” Her lips caressed the glass as she sipped her drink.
Nelo’s breath caught at the sight. Remembering the conversation, he puzzled his chin with forefinger. “Good deeds will fill your days and contemplation your nights. At the end of your healing, a worthy, seductive male awaits your recovery.” He patted his chest. “The male would be me.”
“Cruor, you lack humility.”
“It is a flaw I work on.”
“In the meantime, you’ll assign me to a soup kitchen until I feel better about myself?”
“To something. Not a soup kitchen.” He tilted his glass, swallowing a sip and noticing how Elisabeta watched him.
“How do you know your solution will work?” she asked.
He rolled the amber liquid in the tumbler. “I am the Cruor, a male wise beyond his years.”
“With only a small flaw.”
“So tiny. Not worth mentioning.” He threw back his drink, rose, and shoved out his hand.
Monday, April 01, 2024
Cosmic Requiem Circle by Lucinda Wicked #LGBT #ParanormalRomance #DarkRomance
Excerpt:
Death was finally able to take a nap, she rested, moving to a beach in her dreams. As she sunbathed, she felt a ripple through her dream. An odious black thing streaking the sky. She felt a subtle tremor in the cosmic threads, a disturbance that distrusted her sleep, bathing her dream world in darkness.
“Oh for fuck’s sake.” She said, stretching her hand for her scythe. She got up and took off the sarong, slipping her arms through the sleeves of a satin robe.
With the sharp edge of her scythe, she ripped through the fabric of the dream world.
“I actually put a lot of work into creating this one. This better be worth it.” Death murmured, stepping out of the dream and entering a black void.
She found herself standing within the threading—a vast expanse where the fabric of existence intertwined.
Threads stretched in every direction, touching each other in a complex web of interconnections. Each thread was connected to another. They revolved around a small spool in the center.
She found herself, a small piece of black lopping around each thread.
“What is it this time?” She said into the endless void, her voice echoing.
Tainted threads manifested before her, the red threads had clumps of black glue choking it. Her face contorted in a grimace.
“Damn. That’s a lot of dirt. What has this soul done?” She asked. “Come. Let’s go find them. Someone has to die.” She sighed.
She stepped into Misery’s dream. She was lying awake in a dark space.
“Really? You have the ability to think of anything and this is what you choose?” She said, scoffing. “You’re unbelievable. I don’t know why I bother.” Death finished.
Deathless eyes stare back at her.
“The dark is comforting. You should know that better than anyone else. It is home to vile twisted things like us. Come lay with me.”
“Would love to but this is a bye bye text. I’m too lazy to reach for my phone. I’m killing two birds with one scythe.”“That’s not how the saying goes.”
“Who cares.”
“Where are you headed?”
“Somewhere terrible. " Death said.
Misery sat up, the shadows binding her to the black space falling away. “Where are you going?”
Death looked up, trying to convince her eyes to unsee Misery soft, white, naked, eyes open in ecstasy.
“To hunt a tainted thread.” Death said mindlessly.
“I’m coming with.” Misery said.
“You’re not. You’re busted up. Why are you naked?”
“I sleep naked.” Misery said, brows scrunching in confusion.
“I did not need to know that.” Death said, making a strangled noise. “Why do you insist on coming with me, Misery?” Death questioned, her mood souring. She looked at Misery with cold emotionless eyes.
Misery, undeterred, responded, “I’m connected to the balance as much as you are. I’m connected to you. It’s a roundabout thing. won’t stay idle when darkness threatens.”
“Everybody is connected to me, little psycho. Try again. I’ll be the last to leave this universe when it ceases endless existence. I’ll turn the lights out behind me. I’ll escort your soul to the after life too. Try again, Mise.”
“I have no soul.” Misery grinned, cracking open her chest to reveal a black empty space.
Death scowled. “You’re still not coming along.”
“Yes I am. I’m coming to cover your ass.”
“Literally or figuratively.” Said Death, her lids lowering. Misery flushed, disappearing into the shadows.
“Well. I’ll see you when I’m back.” Death said.
“I’ll be downstairs in five minutes. We both need to get dressed and you take ten years to change your clothes.” Misery said at the same time, wrinkling her nose.
They looked at each other, both frowning.
“I’m coming. The End.” Said Misery, disappearing into the shadows. Death cursed, opening her eyes.
She stood up, heading to her closet. She yanked out a long flowing lace vest and a pair of leather pants. She wore a silk shirt under the vest, the lace vest on it and a corset on the whole ensemble.
The lace looked like it was sewed to the corset. She slipped on a pair of black studded six inch stilettos and raced outside, sliding down the railing to the foyer.
She rushed outside, opening her Mercedes and taking a seat in the driver’s side. She pulled out of the castle, doing a victory dance.
She dialed Misery’s number, tapping her acrylics on the screen joyfully. The phone rang from inside the car.
She looked back to see a grinning Misery lounging in the back seat.
“You have to be shitting me.” Death said, shaking her head.
“I wish. You’re not supposed to leave people you’re going out with at home.” She said, laughing. She smoothly maneuvered herself from the back seat to the passenger’s side.
Thursday, March 28, 2024
Crossroads Magic by Tracy Cooper-Posey #ParanormalWomensFiction #ParanormalRomance
Excerpt Chapter One
The only thing I was worried about as I headed back to my apartment building was the spot on the back of my hand where hot fat had left a burn the size of a nickel. Small, but mighty, the burn throbbed and ached, reminding me it was there. It was worse when the sun hit it, which it did frequently. It was one of those perfect, mild days in December, when you could actually see the sky over L.A. and it was blue.
Who am I kidding? The burn spot wasn’t the only thing I was worried about. If you were to ask me, I could rattle off a dozen major and minor problems, including the sumo-sized rat I suspect was trying to take up residence under my kitchen sink. But those were all chronic problems.
The burn on my hand was new and painful. I didn’t need new problems and was trying my best to ignore it until I could slather aloe vera gel on it. Marjorie, at the diner, had hacked off a leaf from the plant sitting in the pot outside the kitchen door when Deborah, the assistant manager, hadn’t been looking. Marj had wrapped the leaf in plastic. It was in my bag, along with the serving of pecan pie which Deborah had ordered the waitresses to throw out because it was too old. Three days old…there was nothing wrong with it, and it had more calories in it than the egg and toast I had lined up for dinner.
In this world that wasn’t the one I would voluntarily choose, today was turning out okay. Pecan pie, and Hobgoblin of History in my ears. I had been waiting weeks for book fifteen of M.K. Lint’s fantasy series. The library had doled it out to me yesterday and I was on chapter three. Harry the Hobgoblin was looking for the Fairy Eloise, this book; he’d lost her at the end of the last one, because he hadn’t closed the Doors of Eternal Flame in time and a demon had abducted her.
I like reading. I like it a lot.
My building was a white monstrosity that did nothing to enhance the L.A. skyline. The white had long ago turned to a stained, dull grey. Five years ago, a fire had broken out on the top floor and burned out a few apartments. The black smoke had billowed up out of the windows, staining the walls above them. The stains were still there and every time I saw them, I had to remind myself they were smoke stains, not black mould taking over the building. Black mould seemed more appropriate.
I turned off the audiobook, stashed my phone in my pocket and headed for the front door. I only used the front door when I came home from work. Usually, I used the side door, because it was closer to the bus stop.
There was another homeless person sitting on the front steps, leaning against the wrought iron bannister as if they couldn’t prop themselves up, their jean jacket pulled in tight. It wasn’t that cold, although this late in the afternoon, any warmth in the day was beginning to fade.
I swung around the homeless person’s worn boots, and up the steps, digging out my key.“Mom?” The voice wavered.
I whirled, my heart rate climbing, to face the woman rising from the steps, a denial on my lips.
Blue, short, spiky hair. A nose ring. Black eye makeup that had run…or that she had been wearing for too many days. The black looked like bruises.
“Ghaliya?” I asked, for the high cheekbones, narrow chin and high forehead were hers. So were the blue eyes—even if they were blood shot. The next question was right there, behind my teeth. What the hell are you doing here?
Ghaliya pulled the jacket in around her once more. She’d lost weight since the last time I’d seen her…two years, two months and five days ago. And about thirty minutes.
“The super said you’d be home around now,” Ghaliya said. She bent and picked up a small black backpack that had been sitting under her knees and straightened.
Was it possible she’d got taller? She’d been an inch shorter than me. I didn’t think she was shorter than me anymore, and I am nearly always the tallest woman in the room.
I didn’t ask why she was here. That was obvious. She needed help.
I hefted my keys instead. “You’d better come in.”
