Violent Beginnings Blitz

Violent Beginnings
C. Hallman & J.L. Beck
Publication date: November 28th 2020
Genres: Adult, Dark Romance, Romance

The deal was sealed the moment she stepped onto that stage.

It was like seeing a ghost. Sunshine blonde hair, pale skin, and azure blue eyes that held a thousand secrets.

I didn’t know what caused her to end up on that auction block.
And I didn’t care either.

All I knew was that I had to have her…no matter the cost.

One-million dollars later and she became just that.

Mine to break.
Mine to use.
Mine to keep.

But we all have secrets and when I discover hers no one will be able to save her from me.

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

“What’s your name?” I ask after we’ve been driving for a few minutes.

“Fallon,” she whispers, almost inaudible.

“I already know that. What’s your last name?”

I need to make sure she’s not related to Victoria before I let this go any further.

“Brice,” she says hesitantly.

Brice… I tap my fingers against the steering wheel. I’ve never heard of anyone by that last name before, but I’ll still have someone look into her when we get to the safe house. I have to be sure. I know just the person to do that.

Although, I’m sure my brother will not be happy that I’m contacting him for a favor.

I think further on questions I should ask her like this is a fucking date, and I didn’t just pay one million dollars for her body.

“Where are you from, Fallon?”

“Sun Valley.” She doesn’t offer any more than the bare minimum.

“Have you always lived there?”

“Yes.” A second passes, and then she asks the question that dooms both of us. “What are you going to do to me?”

Gripping the steering wheel a little tighter, I grit my teeth and answer her truthfully.

“I don’t know yet.”

I just don’t fucking know…

Author Bio:

J.L. Beck is a USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR, she has written over fifty different romance novels. She started her journey of writing back in 2014 and hasn't slowed down a second since then.

She's captivated by real romance, and loves reading about strong "ALPHA" males, as well as sassy heroines that know or may not know what they want. She is best known for delivering a happily ever after but has ended things on a cliffhanger a time or two.

When she's not typing away at her next book you can find her being a mom to her two adorable kiddos and wife to her high school sweetheart.

She's obsessed with Starbucks, social media, and is definitely more of a dog person than cat.

Author links:
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Born and raised in Germany, Cassandra moved to the United States when she was eighteen. She always had a love for reading, that love slowly transpired into writing. She put fingers to the keyboard and started writing about the dark side of romance.

Cassandra is one half of the international bestselling author duo Beck & Hallman, who are most knows for the writing the Northwood University series.
The pair also write under the pen name Jenna Reed.

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The Shape of Stars Unknown Blitz

The Shape of Stars Unknown
Sybil Le Pyrmont
(The Aldarfall Saga, #1)
Publication date: October 15th 2020
Genres: Adult, Urban Fantasy

World domination is the least of their problems.

A STRANDED DEMIGOD. Lau of the House of Feofar, troubled and headstrong, screwed up. Royally. Now he lives out his days in exile on Earth – the very planet he once tried to exterminate.

A RUDDERLESS MORTAL WOMAN. Silver Laing leads the ordinary life of a white-collar worker. Lonely and desperately in search of purpose and new horizons, she gets more than she bargained for when she is offered a mysterious job.

A CATACLYSMIC PLAN BILLIONS OF YEARS IN THE MAKING. When a deadly visitor from Lau’s shrouded past threatens to lay the world in ashes, Silver and Lau must form an unlikely alliance against ancient and far superior forces.

An alliance with the potential to shake the very foundation of the Universe.

Shimmering new worlds?
Sizzling tension?
Secrets as old as time?
Splashes of humour?

If your answer to all of the above is ‘Hell, yeah!’ then The Shape of Stars Unknown is your guy. This first book in Sybil Le Pyrmont’s new urban fantasy adventure series, The Aldarfall Saga, will take you from Germany to Tibet, from Japan to Iceland and all the way to the other end of the Universe.

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

‘Who’s the employer sending you halfway around the world?’ he asked, resting his chin in his hand while they climbed steeply into the leaden skies.

She did not usually disclose her occupation – or her employer – to fellow passengers. It tended to result in exhaustive conversations about everything that had gone awry with their last fifty to three hundred flights. Then again, Julian Watkins did not convey the impression of having harassment on his mind, which was why she chose to stick to candour and gestured at her surroundings.

‘Voila.’

He lifted a brow. ‘United? What do you do for them?’

‘I’m in sales.’

‘I deduce from the slight hesitation that you aren’t entirely happy with your job.’

‘Who is?’ Silver countered. She was grateful to have the job in the first place, but that did not stop her from wondering whether she was cut out to endure another thirty-plus years of corporate treadmill – not that she had a choice, what with staggering debts to repay and a deplorable lack of billionaire husbands or relatives. ‘What do you do for a living?’

Julian Watkins dropped back into his seat and gave her a challenging glance. ‘Any guesses?’ Despite the humour in his voice, Silver could not help but feel that she was being tested. She had no idea what it took to pass the test; all she knew was that for some funky reason, she wanted to pass. Which was when she usually failed. Crossing her legs, she decided to simply say the first thing that sprang to mind.

‘Spy.’

She had expected him to smirk and ask whether she had watched The Night Manager one time too many – which she had – but he remained unperturbed. ‘Exhibits to support your allegation?’

‘The way you observe,’ she said after a moment of consideration. ‘Nothing seems to escape you. Let’s see … What colour shirt is the passenger in 1A wearing?’

‘A nauseating shade of orange,’ he offered without looking at the man in question.

‘What did the flight attendant do after she closed the door?’

‘She dropped her earring.’

With a triumphant beam, Silver gave a nod. ‘I stick to my guns. Spy.’

‘You seem to be rather perceptive yourself, Miss Laing.’ His expression became thoughtful. ‘And your guess isn’t completely off, although I’m not a spy in the classic sense of the word. Picture an organisation that appreciates a certain level of vigilance.’

‘Sounds cryptic. Industrial espionage?’

He chuckled. ‘Let’s call it complicated.’

Author Bio:

Sybil Le Pyrmont was born in Germany and was raised on the Canary Islands (that Gallic name is a pseudonym – her actual name has as much flair as a tax return). Although she now resides in Frankfurt, Germany, her heart has been beating for Tokyo ever since she spent a year in that city and discovered her epic love for all things Japan. That includes, to her acute embarrassment, the Shinagawa train station jingle she has installed as her ringtone. When Sybil isn’t writing, or dreaming of the anonymous donor who will some day gift her a house in Japan, she splits her time between her airline day job and long rants about the sunshine and the always-too-hot weather.

Sybil writes urban fantasy adventure to whisk her readers away to realms of imagination that have a distinct possibility of existing somewhere in the depths of the Universe.

Visit spyrmont.com for more on Sybil and her writing.

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Christmasly Obedient Blitz

Christmasly Obedient
Julia Kent
Publication date: November 24th 2020
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Holiday, Romance

Tree picking in glorious, downeast Maine. Snow. Santa. Roaring fires, people you love, and a good life. What more could a guy want?

Or, rather, two guys?

Mike and Jeremy have a quiet life with Lydia, on her parents’ family campground in Verily, Maine. It’s a little boring, sure, but after the craziness of their old lives, what’s wrong with boring?

Besides, Jeremy and Mike find Lydia anything but.

As Christmas looms, and an unexpected oops leaves them all in a state of uncertainty, they have to ask themselves: is it time to let life be a little less boring?

And what’s inside that slim box Lydia’s giving them both on Christmas morning?

Christmasly Obedient is a new holiday book in Julia Kent’s USA Today bestselling Obedient series.

The Obedient Series includes:

Maliciously Obedient
Suspiciously Obedient
Deliciously Obedient

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—

EXCERPT:

Jeremy pulled off his coat and slid his arms around Lydia, burying his nose in her neck. The strange sense of being perched on the edge of the world, obscured in white and disconnected from everything abated with each breath, the tick-tock of the mantel clock tracking a different kind of time.

“You’re wet!” Lydia squealed. “And stubbly!”

He didn’t stop. Her squirming turned to a tense freeze, then a slow melt in his arms. She stayed in place, he knew, because she sensed his need.

That was love. Real love.

Mike walked into Jeremy’s line of vision, carrying two open beers, one ready to hand to Jeremy. Ice-blue eyes met his, powerful and knowing. Something deeper than relief took over Jeremy’s cells as he stood there, Lydia touching him, Mike in the same frame, too.

His people. He had his people. That’s all he really needed.

“Hey,” Lydia said softly in his ear. “What’s wrong?”

Jeremy shook his head and just inhaled deeply. The change of plans was welcome. Christmas had come early to the small campground in Maine. He cradled Lydia’s face in his hands and kissed her, the taste of her tongue a tether, holding him in place, keep-ing him from tipping over the edge and into the pale, snowy abyss.

As the kiss deepened, he felt Mike’s hand on his shoulder, heard the cackle of Madge’s ribald comment, smelled the heady scent of burning wood.

And he was home.

Really home.

Author Bio:

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Julia Kent writes romantic comedy with an edge. From billionaires to BBWs to new adult rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every contemporary romance she writes. Unlike Shannon from Shopping for a Billionaire, she did not meet her husband after dropping her phone in a men's room toilet (and he isn't a billionaire). She lives in New England with her husband and three sons in a household where the toilet seat is never, ever, down.

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Tic Tac Mistletoe Blitz

Tic Tac Mistletoe
N.R. Walker
Publication date: November 27th 2020
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Holiday, LGBTQ+, Romance

Hamish Kenneally is moving from Australia to the US for a fresh start, starting with Christmas at his sister’s place in Idaho. When a snowstorm diverts his plane to Montana and leaves him stranded two days before Christmas, he hires a car and drives right into a blizzard.

Ren Brooks has always called Hartbridge, Montana, and his family hardware store, home. After a few failed attempts at love, he’s resigned to being single forever—after all, no guy wants to stay in his sleepy little town for long. And after his dad’s passing earlier in the year, Ren’s Christmas is looking bleak. But when a car runs off the road in front of his property, Ren pulls the driver out and takes him home to get out of the cold.

With the storm and the holidays leaving Hamish with nowhere else to go, Ren kindly offers a place to stay. Hamish is certain he’s crashed right into a Hallmark Christmas movie, despite more car delays and road closures and the prospect of not seeing his sister for Christmas. And with help from Hamish, Ren is beginning to feel a little Christmas cheer.

These two unlikely strangers have more in common than they first realise, and after two days of Christmas decorations, cookies, and non-stop conversation, it looks like Christmas might be saved after all.

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

Hamish’s POV

A totally catastrophic, unmitigated disaster.

What is a totally catastrophic, unmitigated disaster, you might ask?

Let me break it down for you real quick.

My life, my relationship, my job, my plans, my future, and this whole damn trip.

So, basically me.

Me.

I am the totally catastrophic unmitigated disaster.

Hamish Kenneally, thirty-one-year-old Australian, who quit his shitty job and sold his shitty apartment and left behind his shitty life in Sydney, packed his said-shitty life into two suitcases, and boarded a plane to spend Christmas with his sister in God-knows-where, Idaho, USA.

Well, Christmas first. Then two years, at least, in America trying to unshitify his life.

And if the trip to said God-knows-where, Idaho, was any indication of just how spectacularly extra-shitified my life was going to get, I should have turned around and stayed right where I was.

Because if the flight from Sydney to LA was bad, which it was, then the second flight, LA to Spokane, made the first flight look like a joy ride.

Because I didn’t get to Spokane, did I?

Oh no, of course I didn’t.

Because you see, Christmastime in America is in winter. Which is weird enough for this Australian. Christmas should be hot summer days at the beach, seafood and salads, beers and watching the bronzed surfers and drunk foreigners at Bondi. That is what Christmas should be.

None of this “sorry folks; to avoid flying into a massive snow blizzard, we’re being diverted to Missoula, Montana” crap the captain of the plane said when we were halfway there. Like the screaming baby in the seat next to me, or the vomiting lady in the row in front of me weren’t bad enough. Like we had any choice about which direction we were flying into.

I had no choice. I was now going to Montana. In a freaking blizzard, of all things. Ever been on a plane that flew into a snowstorm? There is zero joy in that kind of turbulence, believe me. It would also explain the screaming baby and the vomiting woman. And the man behind me saying Hail Mary’s . . . which you’d think might be comforting. But oh boy, is it ever not. Especially when he yelled the prayer every time we hit a particularly large pothole in the sky on the descent. Honestly, if this flight was a scene in a movie, you’d think it was too ridiculous to be real.

After the plane landed—to which I would have clapped and cheered like everyone else if I wasn’t stuck in the brace position after trying to kiss my own arse goodbye—we were kicked off the plane without so much as a good luck in the wrong bloody state.

So there I was, a clueless Aussie, after flying for twenty hellish-hours and now a few hundred kilometres from where I was supposed to be, trying to wrangle two overweight suitcases down the concourse, when one little wheel on my suitcase broke.

Because of course it did.

Frazzled and trying not to cry— Yes, cry. A thirty-one-year-old man can cry; shove your toxic masculinity in your cakehole and stop judging me. I was having a jetlag-fuelled shitastic day meltdown, trying to keep my shit together the best I could, and clearly not doing it very well. I was allowed a little saltwater leakage.

Anyway, getting back to my story. I tried to call my sister.

No signal.

Because of course there’s not.

So, taking a deep breath and willing myself not to spiral, I found my car rental kiosk. Finally, something is going right. “I have a car booked,” I said, trying to keep my now-broken suitcase upright with my foot while rifling through my backpack for my booking confirmation and driver’s licence. After dropping my passport and half the contents from my backpack all over the floor, then scrambling to collect it all while still trying to keep my suitcase upright, I handed everything over with a flourish of triumph. “Oh, that flight was the worst,” I said, sagging onto the counter. I was about to tell her all about my day from the ninth circle of hell when she looked up at me with that look.

You know the one.

The look of superficial appeasement before they cut you off at the knees. “I’m sorry, sir. But I don’t have a reservation under your name.”

I stared at her. My brain short-circuited and the will to live left my body. It was an actual out-of-body experience, I’m sure of it. I could see myself staring at her, mouth gaping like I’d been lobotomised.

Because of course they didn’t have my booking.

Why would they? My rental car was waiting for me in Spokane. In Washington. Not in freaking Montana.

“Oh,” I whispered, and my left eye twitched. “That’s nice.” I looked around the airport, at the line of annoyed people behind me. “Excellent. I’ve seen that movie where Tom Hanks lives in an airport. It wasn’t so bad. Could be worse. Could’ve been the one where he’s stuck on the island, I guess. Though I didn’t pack a volleyball, so that would’ve sucked.”

She blinked and tap-tap-tapped away at her keyboard. “But sir, we’ve had a lot of cancelled flights today because of the weather. I can arrange a vehicle for you, if you’d like?”

Oh, my sweet baby Jesus in a manger, why didn’t she lead with that?

Author Bio:

N.R. Walker is an Australian author, who loves her genre of gay romance. She loves writing and spends far too much time doing it, but wouldn’t have it any other way.

She is many things: a mother, a wife, a sister, a writer. She has pretty, pretty boys who live in her head, who don’t let her sleep at night unless she gives them life with words.

She likes it when they do dirty, dirty things… but likes it even more when they fall in love.

She used to think having people in her head talking to her was weird, until one day she happened across other writers who told her it was normal.

She’s been writing ever since…

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Ruinsong Blitz

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

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

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

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

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

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—

EXCERPT:

Cadence

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Author Bio:

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

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The Prince’s Bride Part 2 Blitz

The Prince’s Bride Part 2
J.J. McAvoy
(The Prince’s Bride #2)
Publication date: November 27th 2020
Genres: Adult, New Adult, Romance

Book 2 of The Prince’s Bride duet.

In book one, he was just a spoiled playboy prince whose family was in desperate need of money. Now everything has changed Odette Wyntor has a choice.
Stay or Run.
Royalty is not for the weak of heart.
Can they handle what is to come?

Goodreads / Amazon / iBooks / Kobo

—

EXCERPT:

“Is there wine?” he asked, stepping in farther.

And that was when the words came back to me. “We haven’t seen each other in months, and the first thing you ask me about is wine?” I couldn’t believe it.

“You’re right. That was rude,” he said gently, walking up to me.

“Being rude isn’t the point, Gale. How could you—”

“My first question should have been, how are you, Odette?” he whispered, placing his hand on my cheek, and it was like he had shocked me. Electricity flowed throughout my veins, and the hair on my arms stood up, so I had to step back away from his touch.

“What do you think you are doing?” I snapped.

”

“He dropped his hands, his gaze softening. “Can we save our argument for the morning? It has been a very long day, and I really need some sleep.”

“What?”

He didn’t answer me; instead, he took off his jacket and walked to the bedroom.

“What are you doing?” I rushed to stand in front of him. “If you want to sleep, go back to your palace!”

“My wife isn’t in the palace. She is here, and I can hardly let her spend her first night here alone, now can I?” he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. Like oh, of course, you shouldn’t look directly at the sun.

“So, there is the wine.” He snickered and walked around me again into the bedroom, tossing his coat onto the ottoman at the end of the bed, grabbing my unfinished glass to drink from it.

“Gale!”

“Hmm?” He looked at me, still drinking.

He—I—What was he doing right now? Breathe, Odette. Breathe. “Gale, you cannot just break into my bedroom, demand to sleep, and drink my wine like nothing has happened—like we don’t need to talk.”

Author Bio:

J.J. McAvoy was born in Montreal, Canada and graduated from Carleton University in 2016 with an honour's degree in Humanities. She is the oldest of three and has loved writing for years. She is inspired by everything from Shakespearean tragedies to current culture. Her novels hope to push boundaries and allow readers to look at the world from another perspective. Please feel free to stay in touch with her via Facebook, Twitter, Tumblr and youtube, where she video blogs.

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The Flame Game Blitz

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

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

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

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

The Flame Game is on.

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

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—

EXCERPT:

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

Crazy man.

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

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

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

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

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

One set hated me.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I had issues.

I had a lot fewer issues than six months ago.

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

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

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

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

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

Author Bio:

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

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

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The Waltz of Devil’s Creek Blitz

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

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

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

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

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?! I did no such thing!”

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

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

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

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

Author Bio:

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

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Night Watch Blitz

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

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

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

Whether she likes it or not…

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Too bad.”

Author Bio:

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

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Damned When I Didn’t Blitz

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

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

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

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—

EXCERPT:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You think I smell?”

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

“Let’s fix that.”

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

“Cole?”

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

“Cole?”

He reached behind me.

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

“Want to bet?”

Author Bio:

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

Cherie lives in Illinois with her family.

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

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So Sweet the Bite Reveal

So Sweet the Bite
Alexi Blake and May Sage
Publication date: October 31st 2021
Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Romance

A ruthless prince.

The second-born heir of Aevar, Alessandre is the sword of the realm, bound to protect the crown from all enemies. With spies sneaking from the southern and eastern kingdoms, demons swarming from the darklands, and traitors scheming at every corner, he’s grown hard as stone and unbending as steel.

Until she came, muddling his black-and-white world.

A jaded witch.

The last black witch in a time when dark magic is forbidden under penalty of death, Valina has learned to embrace shades of gray to survive.

She’s retreated to the darklands for a hundred years, but a shadow from her past disrupts her refuge. She has to once again intertwine with the royal court and all its machinations. Poison, lies, and secrets threaten the rule of the new queen.

An unlikely alliance.

Valina’s very existence goes against the laws Alessandre enforces. She was hunted by men like him for decades. They can’t help being at each other’s throats.

With an old enemy rising, ready to strike, Alessandre and Valina have to attempt to call a temporary truce in order to defend their worlds.

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Author Bio:

May (aka Alexi Blake) is a USA Today Bestselling Author who recently moved to The Hague, in the Netherlands. She writes many sub-genres of romance; mainly fantasy, paranormal and contemporary. You're signing up for strong, sassy, kick-ass women and swoon-worthy alpha protagonists. Enjoy the ride!

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Evil Queen Blitz

Evil Queen
Rebel Hart
(The Royal Court, #2)
Publication date: November 20th 2020
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance

I thought The Royal Court was everything I needed, but now it’s shattered and I’m lost.

My mother is dead, my brother is missing, and my father is on the run.
I don’t recognize the monster my ex has become and my friends all blame me for what I did.

The only thing I still have is Nikita.

Our circumstances finally stood aside so I could tell her how I feel.
But I betrayed her when I did the one thing she can’t forgive.
Our souls drag us together no matter how hard she tries to force us apart.
I’ve had to shed my arrogant ways and practice humility to try and earn her forgiveness.

Will I be able to drag my friends and family back from the gates of hell, or am I going to lose everything, including the one person I love the most?

Goodreads / Purchase Book 1 / Purchase Book 2

Author Bio:

Rebel Hart is an author of Dark and Contemporary Romance novels. Her debut series is a #1 Amazon Bestseller called Diamond In The Rough. It's a High School Bully Romance with four books and a novella. Book one is Play With Me.

Text REBEL to 77948 to don't miss any of her books (US only) or sign up at the bottom of the page to get an email alert when her next book is out.

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Saving Bonnie Blitz

Saving Bonnie: A Dark Mafia Romance
Sahara Roberts
(Blood Ties, #2)
Publication date: November 17th 2020
Genres: Adult, Dark Romance

I live by three rules.
Don’t trust anyone
Don’t get involved in other people’s shit.
Don’t get tangled up with a woman.
The day I met her, I broke all three.

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—

EXCERPT:

Tino

Lightning streaks across the night sky, illuminating a nervous face at the café across the street. As the storm continues to turn night into quick flashes of day, his gaze repeatedly darts around, searching for what he can feel but can’t see. He leans over to whisper to his partner before checking again. Fool doesn’t realize the danger isn’t on the street. I’m on the second floor of the church directly in front of him.

“What’ve you got?” Marshal Cord Marson’s voice comes across the radio.

“Burglary in progress,” his partner, Frank, replies from a car parked a block away. “Two males, mid-twenties.”

Burglars. Fumbling around in the dark, giving away their presence with every move. The skinny one moves like he’s got some experience. The heavy guy still has his cherry.

“Hold position.” Law enforcement, always dealing with nonessentials.

“What the hell, Tino?” Frank barks over the radio. “These guys are about to break into the café.”

“Aww, shit,” Cord cuts in. “What’s the status, Frank?”

“Suspects checked the door and windows. Now they’re in front of the gate, trying to look inconspicuous. Gonna wait for one to go over the fence so I can move in,” Frank reports.

“I’m on my way.” Cord’s voice comes across, a slight huff breaking his words. He’s already on the move.

“Hold. Your. Position,” I order.

“Criminal or fugitive apprehension is one of the most dangerous parts of law enforcement,” Cord starts.

Spoken like a true marshal.

“One man can’t—” Cord continues.

In the years I hunted men, tracking those who carried out atrocities, I always hunted alone. Partners get in the way, chatter creates distraction, and there’s always a clash for position. Cord thinks I’ll get involved in apprehension—this is exactly why he’s sitting on the south side of town. He’s better off watching the apartment where Conrado Villa’s buddy lives while we look out for his mother at Bomberos Café.

I’m not used to working with law, at least not honest law. With their nonstop chatter, to “keep things lively,” I’m ready to cut them both loose.

“Hold on, man,” Frank interrupts while the skinny guy goes over the three-foot fence, nearly losing his pants as he lands. The heavier one uses the chain-link as footholds and gets his shoe stuck. Hanging on the fence creates enough pressure to lift the latch, letting the gate open. Just then, Skinny realizes the gate isn’t locked.

Damn stupid criminals. Still, I can’t complain. If they weren’t so common, high-end services like the one I work for wouldn’t exist.

Frank scoffs into the radio. “I think we’re good.”

“Suuure.” Cord’s got that note in his voice that makes me want to punch him. “What’s a little B&E among friends, right?”

This stakeout is a test of my patience. If it weren’t for Dante, I’d do the world a favor and get rid of this asshole. Three days of his shit. I should put in for sainthood! If God existed, I’d believe he was fucking with me, I muse while lying in the balcony of the Catholic church across the street from the café. Thanks to a “generous donation,” the area has been blocked off, so I can stay hidden while waiting. Intel has Olga Villa coming by at least once or twice a week, but so far, she’s a no-show.

“Building’s empty,” I remind them. Bonnie Bustos, or Bunny, as Iris and Dante call her, is out. She’s not due back for at least a couple of hours. “They’re gonna head toward Frank. He can stop ’em then.” Though Frank’s got a badge, he understands what goes on at the border and why we do the things we do. “Just don’t fuck with my stakeout.”

“Yes, sir, sir,” Cord replies with condescension.

Great. Now I’ll have to deal with Cord being an asshole for hours.

“You call if you need a hand, bud.” The last part is obviously not for me.

“Nah, they’re punks,” Frank adds, dismissing the offer. “Shouldn’t need more than a Taser.”

“Great. Don’t want Ms. Bonnie Boo-hooin’ if they take anything.”

The first inklings of exasperation hit me. I’ve spent three days listening to his bullshit about Bonnie. He’s been playing up her name way past the joke dying. It started with Busty then Busty’s got back. Frank had to tell him her name’s pronounced boo-stows. So he started on Bonnie Boo, needing a boo, and now he graduated to Busty’s got boo-ty. Not that the guy’s wrong—on any account. Just the sight of the woman will remind any man he’s alive.

Though if he figures out she goes by Bunny and starts on that, I’m going to kill him.

A light suddenly stretches along the ground like a beacon in the pitch-black night. Dumb and dumber must have gotten through the door.

My phone vibrates in my pocket. I have half a mind to ignore it, but Frank may want to go offline. Reaching for it, I pull the screen around to see who’s on the line. Kassy, our IT and security specialist. Frowning, I hit the home button.

“You all right?” she asks, getting straight to the point.

“Yeah.” I check the area again, in case I missed something. “Why?”

“Montoya got one of his vibes, and—”

“Oh-oh,” Frank exaggerates the syllables. What the hell is going on now? “We got a problem,” he confirms.

Gathering patience, I force a question between clenched teeth. “What?”

“She’s back.” Grabbing the binoculars, I focus on the car coming in at the end of the street. Sure enough, the electric-blue Mini Cooper has a damn Uber sticker on the windshield.

It’s times like this where Montoya disturbs my goddamn calm. How the hell can Dante’s business partner be ahead of us when he’s on the ranch a couple hundred miles away?

“I have movement,” Frank announces. “They left a lookout in the car. Guy’s on the phone, likely giving a heads-up.”

The Uber stops in front of the café, and the driver fully turns in his seat. The door opens, and a pair of white, high-heeled sandals pops out above the door, held by Miss Bonnie herself. White ruffled top, little peach shorts that hug her ass, and some lime-green foam sandals they use for pedicures.

Goddammit.

The fucking driver takes his time pulling away, checking his mirrors for one last look at Miss Bustos’s assets. Fuck if I don’t want to just go push the car down the street on my own.

“What’s happening?” Kassy whispers.

“Two guys in the building, and she’s back early.”

“Oh damn. Why is she early?” Her nails do a rapid-fire tap across the keyboard then come to a sudden stop. “Baka! Forgot, there’s no security system. I’m blind,” she finishes, sounding helpless. Kassy did the research on Bonnie. Every Sunday, Bonnie takes an Uber to her mom’s house, coming home after ten o’clock. For whatever reason, she chooses today to break routine.

“So what are we doing?” Frank drops a tangled mess on my shoulders.

I don’t break protocol—ever. It’s kept me alive, and from being discovered, for all these years.

A shadow of unease settles over me, driving me to check on Miss Bonnie. She’s Iris’s best friend, practically a sister. And Iris, one of the few people I give a damn about, lost her mother and still has to deal with her missing father. Not sure how she’ll take losing someone else, especially when I could prevent it. Instinct kicks in as I spring up, turn on my heel, and fly down the stairs then jump across to the next landing.

“Got your back.” Frank’s voice comes in low and meaningful. I know I can count on him to watch what he says around Cord.

I’m breaking cover. If this goes wrong, neither of them can be involved. I jam the earbud in as I bust through the door and streak across the street. “May need you.”

“Got ya,” Kassy gives a curt acknowledgment as a disgruntled cat complains in the background.

I grip the top bar and kick off of the body of the fence. Redirecting my momentum, I’m in the air, hurdling the fence. Gravel. Unexpected, but I stick the landing, and I’m clear. Drizzle starts to fall. Perfect, what else can go wrong? Hopefully, with the rain, anyone in the area will decide to stay in tonight. If not, Frank’s gonna have to step up for as long as he can.

“Maybe they’ll hear her and run off,” Kassy suggests hopefully.

I dash along the side of the building, through the parking area, but somehow I know that isn’t gonna happen. The closer I get, the more my gut is screaming at me that things are gonna go sideways.

I sidle along the edge of the kitchen, blending into the darkness, and peer into the corner of the window. The jerkoffs are across the building, in the dining area, facing me. Bonnie’s in the kitchen, frozen in place as Skinny raises a Beretta nine mil, by the looks of it. “Never killed anyone before.” He grins and looks Bunny over as if he’s got a prize coming.

“Call maintenance,” I mutter to Kassy. “I’m going to work.”

Author Bio:

Sahara Roberts caught the writing bug early in life. She enjoys writing Dark Romance and Romantic Suspense. Her days are filled with international trade issues (the legal kind) and her evenings writing steamy romance.

She is currently working on Blood Ties, a Dark Mafia Romance series, along with a Contemporary Romance series due out in 2021.

When she's not at her usual hangout, Savvy Authors, she enjoys socializing on Facebook and Instagram or watching The Blacklist, Pure, and My Hero Academia.

Sahara lives in South Texas with her beloved husband and their three furry overlords. She enjoys cooking, baking, and cake decorating, but she would certainly prefer to have someone else do the dishes.

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