Archive for the ‘New Adult’ Category

 

I am so excited that TWO THOUSAND YEARS by M. Dalto is available now and that I get to
share the news!
If you haven’t yet heard about this wonderful book by Author M. Dalto, be sure to check out all the details below.
This blitz also includes a giveaway for a $15 Amazon
Gift Card, International, courtesy of M., The Parliament House Press, and
Rockstar Book Tours. So if you’d like a chance to win, enter in the
Rafflecopter at the bottom of this post.
About the Book:
Title: TWO THOUSAND YEARS
Author: M. Dalto
Pub. Date: December 11, 2018
Publisher: Parliament House Publishing
Formats: Paperback, eBook
Pages: 310
Find it: GoodreadsAmazonB&NiBooks

Two thousand years ago, the Prophecy of
Fire and Light foretold the coming of the Queen Empress who would lead the
Empire into a time of peace and tranquility. But instead of the coming of a
prosperous world, a forbidden love for the Empress waged a war that ravaged the
land, creating a chasm between the factions, raising the death toll of innocent
lives until the final, bloody battle.


Centuries later, Alexandra, a twenty-two-year-old barista living in Boston, is
taken to an unfamiliar realm of mystery and magic where her life is threatened
by Reylor, its banished Lord Steward. She crosses paths with Treyan, the
arrogant and seductive Crown Prince of the Empire, and together they discover
how their lives, and their love, are so intricately intertwined by a Prophecy
set in motion so many years ago.


Alex, now the predestined Queen Empress Alexstrayna, whose arrival was foretold
by the Annals of the Empire, controls the fate of her new home as war rages
between the Crown Prince and Lord Steward. Either choice could tear her world
apart as she attempts to keep the Empire’s torrid history from repeating
itself. In a realm where betrayal and revenge will be as crucial to her
survival as love and honor, Alex must discover whether it is her choice – or
her fate – that determines how she survives the Empire’s rising conflicts.

Enjoy the Excerpt:
The streets were quiet for a
Friday night in the city. Alexandra Ross clenched her collar tighter around her
neck as the wind began to pick up, unseasonably cool for so early in Boston’s
September. Her heels clicked along the damp cobblestones of the old sidewalks
as she headed towards her apartment. She had to take extra care while walking
in her four-inch heels.
Especially when she knew she
was being followed.
The city had been her home
for three years now, so the late-night trek home remained familiar, almost a
comfort. In the now twenty-two years of her life, maintaining her independence
was as much of a priority as the switchblade in her jacket pocket was a
security. There was a part of her that truly enjoyed the peaceful solitude these
walks could bring, but she wasn’t stupid enough to do it without protection.
She was aware he remained a
short distance behind her ever since she left Faneuil Hall.
This evening was no
different, except that she was celebrating her twenty-second birthday, which
also may have involved too much alcohol. Perhaps it was the intoxicated
appreciation of her city within the quiet of the early morning hours that
distracted her from her surroundings.
Even the reflections in the
familiar storefront windows she passed by reminded her of the fact she that
wasn’t alone.
Either way, her attention
was focused anywhere but where it belonged. It wasn’t until her heel caught in
the sidewalk, and a hand grabbed her arm to keep her upright, that she realized
she tripped and started to fall.
And that the one she
believed to be a stalker turned out to actually be a rescuer.
His grip remained firm as
his other arm wrapped around her waist to steady her on her feet. As she
composed herself, trying to clear her head, her hand went towards the knife in
her pocket while she glanced towards the individual who just saved her from
needing a nose job.
The stranger’s hair was dark
under the streetlights, side swept and held loosely in a ponytail at the nape
of his neck. He was dressed casually: wearing a dark, button-down shirt over
clean denim jeans and sensible dress shoes as if he, too, had just emerged from
the bustling social atmosphere that brought so many to Boston’s Faneuil Hall
Marketplace.
His features were thin with
chiseled cheekbones beneath skin too tanned to be local, but then she looked
into his eyes. They were the most piercing blue she had ever seen—almost too
blue, especially without the sunlight’s shining assistance. They radiated with
their own luminescence; which was odd at first, but the color was as though
they were refractions off of the ocean’s waves. As she continued to stare, the
more familiar they seemed. Looking up and into his eyes felt as if she had
stared into those eyes before—been lost within them too many times to count.
The feeling was almost
nostalgic, though she was certain she’d never met him before. She would have
remembered those eyes, regardless of how many cosmopolitans she may have drank.
By the time she realized she
was staring, he had already released her from his grasp.
“I—” She blinked, struggling
for words as her grip tightened around her knife.
“A simple ‘thank you’ would
suffice.” His words purred with a foreign accent—familiar, but she couldn’t
place it. Irish? Scottish? Perhaps Welsh, she thought to herself, though she
wasn’t even certain if it was European at all.
“Oh,” she spoke, clearing
her throat. “Thank you.” She moved to smooth out the short, black dress she
wore, awkwardly running her hands over her legs, her ass—anything she could do
to avoid his gaze. “I didn’t even hear you behind me.”
“I know.” He smirked. Again,
that sense of nostalgia clenched at her chest, her stomach, lower. Before she
could inquire further, or at least find out where he came from, he had already
moved past her, continuing on his way down the street.
“Happy birthday, Alex.” He
waved back to her without another glance.
How did he know?
“Hey, wait!” she called
after him, her voice laced with panic, but he disappeared out of sight as
quickly as he arrived.
Deciding she had had enough
excitement for one birthday, Alex slowly, and far more cautiously, finished her
walk home. Occasionally, she would chance a glance behind her to ensure she
wasn’t followed again. He was just some creep who must have been too close for
comfort while they were drinking the bar, she convinced herself as she turned
the corner onto the street that led to her apartment. Or merely a lonely
someone who overheard her saying her goodbyes to her friends on the way out and
thought he’d get lucky.
She came to the gate that
barred the walkway leading to her apartment, the skin on her neck prickled and
the hairs on her arms stood on end. Something was off. The familiarity of home
felt wrong, like a lost memory, just within reach moments ago, now nowhere to
be found. Her hand had been stuffed into her jacket pocket ever since her
encounter with the dark-haired stranger, and she continued to grip the knife
tightly as she opened the gate and she headed down the final stretch.
Her apartment was situated
in one of the older colonial row houses within Boston’s North End that later
converted into apartments and condominiums as the years went on and the economy
grew. She rented out the bottom floor of the building, with her ground-level
entrance beneath the building’s main stairway barred behind a wrought-iron
gate. Taking another look around her surroundings, she approached her door as
her other hand managed to find her keys, but nearly dropped them as she stopped
to survey the scene before her.
The light from a nearby
street lamp shone on the damage that had been done. The gate was bent in a
fashion that looked as though a gorilla took a bar in each hand and spread them
apart. Through the warped iron, she could see the lock to her apartment had
been destroyed, the surrounding door blown apart with it, shattered beyond easy
repair.
“Fuck,” she whispered,
taking a step back to as she glanced to see if there was anyone around, but not
a soul was in sight. With a shaking hand, she reached for her phone. Did she
call the police on the off-chance her father’s colleagues would report back to
him and have to hear another lecture from her about the horrors of living in
the city? Or hell, ensure the potential of seeing any of them the next morning
while she was at work, having them remind her of her over-exaggerations while
she served them their overpriced coffee?
No. No, she did not. So, she
rang her best friend instead.
“Hello?” Crystal answered on
the third ring.
“Crystal!” Alex whispered
harshly into her phone. “Someone’s broken into my apartment!”
“So, call the police,”
Crystal reminded her lazily, her tone muddled by the evening’s inebriation.
“You know I can’t do that,”
she snapped. “Besides, what if they’re already gone? It would be a waste of
time and effort.”
“And your pride?”
“That too.”
“What if they’re not?”
Crystal queried. “Your father will be pissed, and your mother—”
“You are no help; do you
know that?”
“You’re the one calling me,
thinking someone broke into her house!”
Before Alex could continue
to interrogate her friend, the slightest sound of movement from the other side
of the door caught her attention, and her knife was out of her pocket and at
the ready, her heart pounding.
“Crystal, I’ve got to go,”
she murmured into the phone.
“What? Wait—” Alex hung up
before Crystal could finish her sentence.
Reaching the warped gate,
she slowly pushed open the ruined door that led into her apartment. She
listened again, waiting for a repeat of movement, and quietly stepped through
and into the mudroom once she decided it was safe to do so. Everything was dark
and quiet, just as she left it, which gave her even more cause for concern.
Whoever was there, whether they remained or not, they weren’t there with
robbery as their intention…not that she had much to steal, anyway, beyond an expansive
collection of epic fantasy books and Harlequin romance novels.
Liquid courage—that was
stupidity. At least that’s what she convinced herself as she tiptoed through
the kitchen, her ears still perked when she heard a subtle creak of a
floorboard and she tightened her grip on the knife. Peeking around the corner,
she noticed a dull light emitted from her living room, appearing as though a
flame flickered in the darkness.
Except Alex’s fireplace was
only decoration and never once actually contained a fire.
Despite the nauseating
curiosity that gripped her and tightened her stomach into knots, she approached
the living room, lingering just outside the entryway. The flickering light made
it difficult to adjust her eyes to the darkness, but she was certain she could
hear bits and pieces of a conversation within an unknown language between two
individuals whose voices she didn’t recognize.
Holding her breath, Alex
glanced into the living room. Crouched before the fireplace was a figure in
black with its back turned to her. Male in appearance, he was too focused on an
orb floating before him to notice her. The swirling red flames neither burned
nor emanated heat as they hovered over the ground, and her attention was caught
upon their pulsating beat as it communicated with her apartment’s intruder,
like the blood flowing through her veins.
And the foreign language,
unfamiliar to her in every possible manner, resounded through her like a
jolt—as though a part of her memory had been previously locked away, and
hearing it again was the key. No different to her mind than English, she could
understand every word they were saying as if it was her native tongue.
“You are certain you’ve secured
the perimeter?”
“Yes, my Lord,” the figure
spoke into the flame-less conflagration. “There’s been no sign of the Empress.
She will be none the wiser that the Key is in place.”
“You best hope so, for where
she will be, the Prince will follow. The Empress must be in my possession
before he can make his next move.”
“Of course, my Lord, but
what shall I do in the meantime?”
“Be patient. Be vigilant.
And so help me, when the Empress returns, do not allow her to leave that
apartment.”
“And the Key?”
“You will wait until it
activates within the next moon cycle. Until then, remember that she will be
your only way home. Do you understand me?”
The figure bowed his head.
“Understood, my Lord. And should the Prince interfere?”
Alex could almost feel the
simmer through whatever allowed such a floating object to exist, and a shiver
trickled down her spin as she watched the dark figure finally stand and turn in
her direction.
Red eyes glowed in the
darkness, like dying embers fighting to remain lit. Being distracted by the
earlier conversation, she hadn’t noticed how far she stepped into the room.
Whatever courage she may have had before entering her apartment dissipated as
those red eyed focused on her. She tried to take a step back, but hit the wall,
jarring her elbow in the process and hissing of pain at the impact.
“Well, it appears my job
just became a hell of a lot easier,” he slurred in English, though drawling
with an accent both foreign and familiar.
Not unlike her would-be
stalker-savior’s.
“Sorry to interrupt,” she
announced as she pushed off from her spot against the wall, remembering the
knife in her hand and willing her fingers to steady themselves as she pointed
it at the head of the intruder. “But I think it’s time you removed yourself
from my apartment.”
“The Empress?” The voice
from the flames sounded pleased, and the orb’s size and power intensified as it
emitted an almost demonic chuckle.
At the words of whatever
master presided on the other side of that communication device, the intruder
rose to his full height as he turned around to face her fully. The amplified
light from the orb finally displayed his features. Other than his eyes, there
was nothing extraordinary about him. Pale in the pulsating red light, with a
shock of black hair and thin lips. He wore unremarkable clothing—a black shirt
over black pants that could have come from anywhere—but still it was his eyes
that held her attention, creating an otherworldly presence about him.
He paused his approach,
however, when he saw the knife, cocking his head to the side as though in
silent challenge. Instinctively, she sliced it through the air in his general
direction, and the unexpected action seemed to surprise him as much as it had
her. Taking a reflexive step back, his legs hit a side table next to her couch,
knocking a lamp to the floor.
The orb ceased its laughter
at the commotion.
“It’s a pleasure, Empress
Alexstrayna,” the voice said while the intruder continued his retreat,
falling into the fireplace as if the orb would give him protection or a quick
escape out of the room.
Alex rolled her eyes at the
intruder’s pathetic attempts to escape through a brick wall, though her
attention was caught at the greeting from the orb. It wasn’t her name, but it
was close, and she didn’t want to know how or why. Before she could inquire,
the voice behind the floating ball of flame seemed to realize he was losing his
local support, and the fire erupted once again. “Where the hell do you think
you’re going? The Prince is following her. Find him before he finds you first!
Do not let the Empress out of your sight!”
The flaming orb allowed his
threat to linger as its flames continued to rant and rave, all while the
intruder composed himself and again began to approach her. The orb’s light now
reflected off of claw-like talons extending from each finger on both hands of
the intruder, and his teeth grew into a predator’s fangs. Every bit of his
deadly intention was focused solely on her.
Alex felt the sweat form on
her brow as her heart beat with a terrified fury. Even as she held the knife up
to defend herself, it shook between her fingers. The intruder merely gave her a
knowing smirk before he reared back on his legs and leaped into the air with
feline grace, lunging across the room with his claws extended, aiming directly
for her over-exposed chest.
Frozen in the spot where she
stood, Alex’s eyes were wide as she watched death approach. She remained where
she was even as a sudden bolt of cold, blue flame shot over her shoulder,
knocking the attacker hard against the wall next to the fireplace. The plaster
splintered on impact, causing the intruder to crumple to the floor, unmoving
once he hit the ground.
Alex thought her heart was
going to pound through her ribcage; she made herself take one deep breath, and
then another before she looked over her shoulder toward the direction of the
flash. In the lingering blue glow stood the stranger who helped her in the
street. Those same cold flames appeared to grow from his right hand as he was
poised in a battle-ready position, preparing for another strike as his
attention focused deeper within the room.
Following his glance, she
saw that the intruder remained still and motionless, remnants of the blast that
sent him there the only movement coming from his body. She wanted to say something—perhaps
she should thank him? Too many questions began to cross her mind as she shifted
towards him, needing to know more, that same pull of nostalgia almost drawing
her in. No sooner had she opened her mouth than did the red orb cease its
ranting to greet the new arrival.
“I was wondering when you
were going to show your face, Treyan. Unfortunately, you’re too late. My Key is
in place, and come the next moon cycle, the Empress will rightfully be mine.”
“Sorry to disappoint you,
Reylor, but my Key has been in place for years.” Treyan walked forward,
outstretched his right hand where again blue flames sprung from it, this time
engulfing the red orb. Not a moment later, it was extinguished. Without delay,
he turned towards her and began to approach her. “I am sorry about all of this,
Alex—”
“You!” She raised her knife
between them, the point hitting his chest before he could move another inch.
“Who are you? What are you doing here?”
Sighing, he brought his hand
to the blade, his blue flames warming the metal to the point of nearly burning
Alex’s hand, forcing her to drop the knife. She moved to run, but he grabbed
hold of her forearm and he pulled her face to him.
Alex caught herself getting
lost in his blue eyes again and he watched her with an enthusiasm that was
unwarranted given their sudden meeting. It was a feeling of intense warmth
throughout her body, akin to the comfort of a lover’s embrace. A feeling she
had met him before but knew their paths had never crossed before in her life.
And yet, some part of her knew him, or knew of him, and that terrified her.
Who are you?
Unfortunately, the question
never left her. Before she could break his intense stare and begin to protest
further, he brought a hand to her face, gently cupping her cheek, and after a
few murmured words, Alex’s world fell to darkness.
About M.:

 

M.
Dalto is a Young Adult / New Adult fiction writer of adventurous romantic
fantasy stories, and her debut, TWO THOUSAND YEARS, won one of Wattpad.com’s
coveted Watty Awards in 2016. She continues to volunteer her time as a Wattpad
Ambassador, where she engages and hopes to inspire new writers, and also
mentors authors through the #WriteMentor program.
As a mentor, MB is on the lookout for YA and NA novels heavy in plot with
the ability to make her fall in love with its characters. Her favorite tropes include
love triangles of all kinds, enemies to lovers, dream sequences, and
prophecies. She always wants villains you can’t help but be attracted to,
redemption arcs or otherwise. She loves novels with deep character development,
a setting where she can get lost, and plot twists that make her want to throw
the book across the room. Give her main characters you love to hate, but can’t
help but hate to love.
She spends her days as a full-time residential real estate paralegal,
using her evenings to hone her craft. When she’s not writing, she enjoys
reading fantasy novels, playing video games, and drinking coffee. She currently
lives in Massachusetts with her husband, their daughter, and their corgi named
Loki.
,
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Giveaway Details:
1 winner will win a $15 Amazon Gift Card, INTERNATIONAL.
.

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Resurrection: Sign of Six
by Summer Lane
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resurrection SignofSix cover
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(Resurrection Series #3)
Publication date: December 7th 2018
Genres: Dystopian, New Adult
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Synopsis
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The third installment in the hit survival series, following the adventures of Cassidy Hart!

There are many words used to describe Cassidy Hart:
President. General. Sniper. Soldier.
Girl.
Now, just one word echoes through her head: Infected.
Cassidy Hart has been infected with a nanovirus that turns her own body against itself. As civil war with the technologically advanced Eastern Coalition and President Ayad begins to escalate, the need for more advanced weaponry and reinforcements arise.

When the United Kingdom makes Cassidy and the Western Republic an offer they can’t refuse, they board a plane to London to forge an alliance with the first known surviving European country they have truly communicated with since Omega’s defeat. Unknowingly, leaving their home turf may be more dangerous than they think…

Uriah True and Chris Young – two men whom Cassidy cares deeply for – will be pitted against each other in the most unimaginable way.

While Omega may be gone, loyalty to the cause remains. Yet a new, more dangerous enemy arises. An enemy who promises to reshape the known world. Omega was nothing. He will be everything.
Look for his sign. The sign of the sixth.
Heed his promise:
The end of the world was only the beginning. The worst is yet to come.
Even Cassidy Hart may not survive this time…or will she?

From Summer Lane, the #1 bestselling author of more than 20 hit books.

Purchase: Amazon / B&N
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Author Summer Lane
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SummerLane
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Summer Lane is the #1 bestselling author of more than 20 hit books, including the popular Collapse Series and Resurrection Series, featuring feisty heroine Cassidy Hart. She owns Writing Belle Publishing and Writing Belle, an online magazine. Lane is also an established journalist and writing teacher.

Summer lives in the Central Valley of California with her husband, Scott, and their two German Shepherds, Kona and Gibbs.

Author links: Website / Blog / Facebook / Twitter / Goodreads / Instagram
.

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Dark Arts and a Daiquiri
by Annette Marie
(The Guild Codex: Spellbound, #2)
Publication date: November 16th 2018
Genres: New Adult, Urban Fantasy
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Dark Arts cover
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Synopsis
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When I found myself facing down the scariest black-magic felon in the city, practically daring him to abduct me, I had to wonder exactly how I ended up here.

It all started when I accidentally landed a job as a bartender—but not at a bar. At aguild, populated by mages, sorcerers, alchemists, witches, and psychics. Good thing this lame-o human is adaptable, right?

Then my favorite guild members—three sexy, powerful, and intermittently charming mages—asked for my help. Did they want access to my encyclopedic knowledge of cocktails? Oh no. They wanted to wrap me up in a pretty ribbon and plunk me in the crosshairs of a murderous rogue to lure him out of hiding.

So that’s what we did. And that’s why I’m here. About to be kidnapped. Oh, and our grand plan for safely capturing said murderous rogue? Yeah, that completely fell apart about two minutes ago.

Why did I agree to this again?


Note: The three mages are definitely sexy, but this series isn’t a reverse harem. It’s 100% fun, sassy, fast-paced urban fantasy.

 

Tori has no problem getting herself into trouble in every book in the Guild Codex series, but each one is a complete adventure—no cliffhanger endings.


THE GUILD CODEX: SPELLBOUND
Three Mages and a Margarita (#1)
Dark Arts and a Daiquiri (#2)
Two Witches and a Whiskey (#3)

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Purchase: Amazon
Aythor Annette Marie
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Annette
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Annette Marie is the author of Amazon best-selling YA urban fantasy series Steel & Stone, its prequel trilogy Spell Weaver, and romantic fantasy trilogy Red Winter. Her first love is fantasy, but fast-paced adventures and tantalizing forbidden romances are her guilty pleasures. She lives in the frozen winter wasteland of Alberta, Canada (okay, it’s not quite that bad) with her husband and their furry minion of darkness—sorry, cat—Caesar. When not writing, she can be found elbow-deep in one art project or another while blissfully ignoring all adult responsibilities.

Author links: Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter

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Three Mages and a Margarita
by Annette Marie
(The Guild Codex: Spellbound #1)
Publication date: September 14th 2018
Genres: New Adult, Urban Fantasy
Three Mages cover
Synopsis

Broke, almost homeless, and recently fired. Those are my official reasons for answering a wanted ad for a skeevy-looking bartender gig.

It went downhill the moment they asked me to do a trial shift instead of an interview—to see if I’d mesh with their “special” clientele. I think that part went great. Their customers were complete dickheads, and I was an asshole right back. That’s the definition of fitting in, right?

I expected to get thrown out on my ass. Instead, they…offered me the job?

It turns out this place isn’t a bar. It’s aguild. And the three cocky guys I drenched with a margarita during my trial? Yeah, they were mages. Either I’m exactly the kind of takes-no-shit bartender this guild needs, or there’s a good reason no one else wants to work here.

So what’s a broke girl to do? Take the job, of course—with a pay raise.


Note: The three mages are definitely sexy, but this series isn’t a reverse harem. It’s 100% fun, sassy, fast-paced urban fantasy.

Purchase: Amazon
Author Annette Marie
.
Annette-1

Annette Marie is the author of Amazon best-selling YA urban fantasy series Steel & Stone, its prequel trilogy Spell Weaver, and romantic fantasy trilogy Red Winter. Her first love is fantasy, but fast-paced adventures and tantalizing forbidden romances are her guilty pleasures. She lives in the frozen winter wasteland of Alberta, Canada (okay, it’s not quite that bad) with her husband and their furry minion of darkness—sorry, cat—Caesar. When not writing, she can be found elbow-deep in one art project or another while blissfully ignoring all adult responsibilities.

Author links: Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter

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To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

I am an Amazon Affiliate. Product images are linked.

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The Girl Who Sees
by Dima Zales
(Sasha Urban, #1)
Publication date: August 7th 2018
Genres: New Adult, Urban Fantasy
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Synopsis:
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I’m an illusionist, not a psychic.

Going on TV is supposed to advance my career, but things go wrong.

Like vampires and zombies kind of wrong.

My name is Sasha Urban, and this is how I learned what I am.

 
Purchase: Amazon / B&N / iBooks / Kobo
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girl who teaser
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Author Dima Zales
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Dima

Dima Zales is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of science fiction and fantasy. Prior to becoming a writer, he worked in the software development industry in New York as both a programmer and an executive. From high-frequency trading software for big banks to mobile apps for popular magazines, Dima has done it all. In 2013, he left the software industry in order to concentrate on his writing career and moved to Palm Coast, Florida, where he currently resides.

Dima holds a Master’s degree in Computer Science from NYU and a dual undergraduate degree in Computer Science / Psychology from Brooklyn College. He also has a number of hobbies and interests, the most unusual of which might be professional-level mentalism. He simulates mind reading on stage and close-up, and has done shows for corporations, wealthy individuals, and friends.

He is also into healthy eating and fitness, so he should live long enough to finish all the book projects he starts. In fact, he very much hopes to catch the technological advancements that might let him live forever (biologically or otherwise). Aside from that, he also enjoys learning about current and future technologies that might enhance our lives, including artificial intelligence, biofeedback, brain-to-computer interfaces, and brain-enhancing implants.

In addition to writing The Sorcery Code series and Mind Dimensions series, Dima has collaborated on a number of romance novels with his wife, Anna Zaires. The Krinar Chronicles, an erotic science fiction series, is an international bestseller and has been recognized by the likes of Marie Claire and Woman’s Day. If you like erotic romance with a unique plot, please feel free to check it out, especially since the first book in the series (Close Liaisons) is available for free everywhere.

Anna Zaires is the love of his life and a huge inspiration in every aspect of his writing. She definitely adds her magic touch to anything Dima creates, and the books would not be the same without her. Dima’s fans are strongly encouraged to learn more about Anna and her work at http://www.annazaires.com.

Author links:  Twitter / Website / Facebook / Goodreads
 .

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Ullr's Fangs banner
Thanks for stopping in for my spot on the blog tour for Ullr’s Fangs by Katharine E. Wibell.

This blog tour is organized by Lola’s Blog Tours. The blog tour runs from 25 June till 15 July. See the tour schedule here.

Ullr's FangsUllr’s Fangs (The Incarn Saga #2)
By Katharine E. Wibell
Genre: Epic Fantasy
Age category: Young Adult, New Adult
Release Date: 29 April 2018

Blurb:
According to legend, when the world was young, two gods of war — one male, one female — were destined for each other. Yet Ullr, forever unfaithful, lost the love of Issaura, his true match, and was forsworn. His violent anger and bitter rage grew and intensified, poisoning all creation and humanity.

Now that the Raiders’ long ships have faded from sight, the kingdom of Elysia is beginning to recover from the summer’s war with the brutal invaders from across the sea. Yet darker forces have taken root, forces that can alter the future of the land and its people in unthinkable ways. Seventeen-year-old Lluava must discover the means to prevent her world from collapsing. But in doing so, will she succumb to that darkness?

You can find Ullr’s Fangs on Goodreads

You can buy Ullr’s Fangs here on Amazon

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Check out the excerpt:

In the failing light, Lluava sat her weary body down on one of the cut logs that served as benches around the ever-blazing cooking fires. She ached from an exhaustion that was more than physical. In her hand, she held a steaming bowl of clumping porridge, or maybe repurposed hash. Although its taste was barely better than its looks, this mysterious gruel was the only thing the town could provide to feed the army for their extended stay. Lluava had grown accustomed to its bland taste and grainy texture. It might not be ideal, but it kept everyone’s strength up when they needed it.

“May I sit next to you?” Varren’s formal upbringing emerged even when there was no need.

Nodding, Lluava shoveled down the sludge. Eating quickly was her trick to keep the so-called food from sticking to the back of her throat. In contrast, Varren sat down, whispered a prayer of thanks, and began to eat. They remained silent until Varren had finished.

Wiping his mouth, he said, “I would like to head back to the capital tomorrow. Since you are my military partner—no, that is not the reason.” Varren seemed flustered. He was not one to fumble with his choice of words. Eloquence had always come naturally to him, so why could he not state a clear thought now?

“Yes?” inquired Lluava, hoping to coax him to continue.

Varren stood up in his most formal manner and asked, “Lluava, would you come with me to the royal palace? I want to introduce you to Grandfather and the High Council and, well…I would like you to be with me when I return to court.”

Lluava understood his fear of what he was about to do, for altering an age-old law was all but unheard of. Nevertheless, excitement fluttered inside her like a newly fledged bird. Varren wanted her near him. This was his way of admitting how much he needed her at his side. This day had truly brought wonderful news.

She was about to say yes when a new thought crossed her mind. “How long do you expect to be at court?”

“I do not know. Why do you ask?”

Lluava fingered the carefully folded letter in her pants pocket. “Well, I had hoped to visit home. I haven’t seen my family since the draft.”

Thoughtfully, Varren said, “I will not force you to come. You can leave at any time. However, I would like you to be with me when—”

Lluava interrupted. “Don’t worry. I’ll be standing by your side from now until eternity.” She grinned at her pathetic attempt at poeticism.

“That is good. That is great!” Varren could not hide his relief. “Well, I will say good night to you now. Tomorrow will be a new and exciting day.”

With that, Varren gently took Lluava’s hand and kissed it, which sent a tingling sensation up her arm. As he left, Lluava thought, Oh, what am I getting myself into?

Next morning, Lluava ran to the shanty that served as Ymen’s dispatch headquarters. Since a large portion of the Southern army was stationed here, the king’s messengers came to the town every two weeks. Lluava had to hurry so as not to miss the chance to send off her own letter. She had forgotten to do this errand the day before, and with her departure imminent this was the only chance she would have before she left.

Attempting to catch her breath, Lluava retrieved the letter from her pocket. It was surprisingly unwrinkled. Perhaps the gods were watching over her. She handed the parchment to the small man loading full satchels onto his horse. Annoyed at the last-minute arrival, he began to lecture Lluava on the importance of punctuality. She in turn quietly reprimanded herself for her forgetfulness. Satisfied with his thorough scolding, the letter carrier asked Lluava in a disinterested manner, “Are you human or Theriomorph?”

This simplest of questions caught Lluava off guard. An inner heat coursed through her body as she growled out the formal reply.

“I am Lluava Kargen, daughter of Haliden Kargen, and I am Theriomorph.”

~~~~~~

First book in the series:
Issaura’s Claws by Katharine E. Wibell
“If they fail to trust each other, the consequences will be devastating. Death and destruction are on the horizon and time is running out.”Links:
Goodreads
Amazon
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Katharine E WibellAbout the Author:
Katharine Wibell’s lifelong interest in mythology includes epic poetry like the Odyssey, Ramayana, Beowulf, and the Nibelungenlied. In addition, she is interested in all things animal whether training dogs, apprenticing at a children’s zoo, or caring for injured animals as a licensed wildlife rehabilitator. After receiving degrees from Mercer University in both art and psychology with an emphasis in animal behavior, Wibell moved to New Orleans with her dog, Alli, to kick start her career as an artist and a writer. Her first literary works blend her knowledge of the animal world with the world of high fantasy.You can find and contact Katharine here:
Website
Website blog
Facebook
Twitter
Pinterest
Goodreads
Instagram

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GIVEAWAY

There is a tour wide giveaway for the blog tour of Ullr’s Fangs. One winner will win a $25 Amazon gift card!

For a chance to win, enter the rafflecopter below:
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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

For a list of my reviews go HERE.

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

To see all of my giveaways go HERE.

I am an Amazon Affiliate. Product images are linked.



.

The Boyfriend Experience
J.A. Huss
(Jordan’s Game, #3)
Publication date: May 30th 2018
Genres: New Adult Romance Comedy

From NYT Bestselling Author, JA Huss, comes a new sexy standalone in the Jordan’s Game series.

I NEED A BOYFRIEND… and I need one now…

WANTED
One bad-ass man with boyfriend experience.
Must be willing to fight dirty and work weekends, nights, and overtime.
Bad attitude a must. Bonus points if you’re hot, athletic, and sporting tattoos.

When I asked Jordan Wells for a Boyfriend Experience game I didn’t expect to get stuck with billionaire real-estate agent, Lawton Ayers. He doesn’t exactly fit the job description.

WANTED
One professional woman with business experience.
Must be willing to build a future together.
Successful entrepreneur a must. Bonus points if you’re a crazy local legend.

When Jordan Wells offered up Oaklee Ryan a last-minute business partner to seal a deal I’ve been working on for years, I didn’t expect beautiful, sexy, and multi-orgasmic to be on her list of qualifications.

But that’s what I got. And she’s perfect just the way she is.

Too bad she doesn’t want me to be HER boyfriend. Because she bought me for someone else…

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

Enjoy the excerpt:

She’s smiling up at me, her brown eyes turned slightly yellow from the glow of the lights, her cheeks pink. Flushed from the exertion of sex. Her breathing slower now, but not her heart. Because I can feel it underneath me.

Still pounding.

Waiting for more.

Trying to match mine.

So we can keep time together.

I think that’s what hearts do. Keep time. Keep everything together. Keep this crazy thing called life in perspective.

“One more time here,” I say. “Then I’ll take you inside so I can get you naked.”

It’s too cold to make her take her clothes off. Even though I know she’d do that if I asked her to. I can already feel the chill of her beneath me. But my body heat will help. Will protect her from the cold.

The deluxe package includes a boyfriend blanket on a cold night.

She opens her legs, reaches down between them to pull her panties aside, and my hips adjust enough to allow my cock to slide up to her opening. Her fingers are grabbing my shoulder now. And even through the leather I can feel them dig.

I want to take the jacket off so she can leave marks on me. I want there to be nothing between us. But I want her to be on the bottom at least once. So she can look up and see the surreal fantasy version of the underside of her water tower just like I did. So we can share that special feeling of being with someone you adore in a way that can’t be repeated.

No one will ever make love to her like this again. Not even me. Because this is a moment and moments pass into other moments and no two are ever alike.

She thrusts her hips upward, trying to force me to enter her. I just grin, because not gonna happen. Not until I say so, at least.

“Come on,” she whispers, watching me intently. “Let’s go.”

“We’ve got time. There’s no rush.”

She thrusts upward again. “There is a rush. A rush I want to experience again. Don’t make me beg, Lawton Ayers.”

“Begging?” I ask playfully. “Is that something you do?”

She giggles, then gets serious real quick. She frowns. Pouts her lips. Widens her eyes. “Please,” comes out like a whimper. Like she’s been wounded and needs relief. Relief only I can administer.

“Just take a moment, Oaklee. Feel it with me.”

Her eyes narrow slightly. Like she’s trying to figure out what I’m asking.

“The game is over,” I say. “That’s what I want you to feel. We passed it by some time ago. I’m not sure when, exactly. But the game is over.”

“OK,” she says, her face relaxing. The pout is gone. The confusion is gone. And all her expectations seem to melt away. “We’re real,” she whispers.

 

Author JA Huss

JA Huss is the New York Times Bestselling author of 321 and has been on the USA Today Bestseller’s list 21 times in the past four years. She writes characters with heart, plots with twists, and perfect endings.

Her books have sold millions of copies all over the world, the audio version of her semi-autobiographical book, Eighteen, was nominated for a Voice Arts Award and an Audie Award in 2016 and 2017 respectively, her audiobook, Mr. Perfect, was nominated for a Voice Arts Award in 2017, and her audiobook, Taking Turns, was nominated for an Audie Award in 2018.

She lives on a ranch in Central Colorado with her family.

Facebook / Twitter / Instagram / Bookbub / Amazon / Facebook Fan Group

 

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Strayed banner

Title: STRAYED
Author: KristaLyn Vetovich
Publisher: Glass House Press
Pages: 72
Genre: YA/NA Fantasy

Young woman dancing for her abstract background

Young woman dancing for her abstract background

BOOK BLURB:

In the struggle between good and evil, humans don’t stand a chance—not on their own.

Which is why, for every living soul, there is a Firn: a spirit assigned to guide and defend humans from demonic spirits like the Aropfain. But earning a place in the fight is a process that requires several lifetimes—of service, experience, and sacrifice.

Having just returned from her most recent life as an Ancient Roman martyr, Anaya is only one step away from achieving that goal. And if she succeeds, she might become the Firn with the most important mission: guiding the human that will either save—or end—the world.

But when she’s paired with the notoriously difficult Jordin, her chances of success suddenly start to slip. Because Jordin isn’t like other souls. He’s strong, volatile—and a prime target for the Aropfain. And he almost immediately falls for an Aropfain ploy that could not only jeopardize his chances of becoming a Firn, but also endanger the entire world.

As his partner, Anaya is the only one who can save him. But will she succeed? Or will she fail—and take the world down with her?

ADD TO YOUR GOODREADS SHELF

~~~~~

Book Excerpt:

CHAPTER ONE

Well, it happened again. I died.

The bloodied sand of the colosseum shivers out of focus as my soul shakes off its physical limitations in favor of a higher vibration. Instead of centurions and weeping family, I’m now surrounded by snowy white noise and quiet.

They came for me at dawn. I can still hear my mother’s sobs. I was only twelve.

I blink the memories away just as a man bends and pulls into view before me, then straightens with a blithe sort of smile. “Welcome back,” he says in an excessively soothing tone. He wears glasses I know he doesn’t need, and behind them, his unearthly blue eyes trace my face, looking for signs of stress.

And it comes back to me like the snap of fingers. An Advokat. Here to help me adjust to the trauma of crossing over from life to death.

Suddenly I wonder how he sees me. Do I have blue eyes now? In life, they were brown, but here in death I’ve always imagined others see me with crystal blue. I guess it would depend on how much they like me. Appearance is entirely based on impression here. We see what we feel. Feelings are real, vision an illusion.

And this Advokat must be new, I realize a moment later. If he’d been here for any length of time, he wouldn’t be using the sappy voice they put on for the newer souls. The ones who don’t understand how it works. He’d know that I’m something of a regular in the transition between life and death—that I’ve lost count of how many of these interviews I’ve had to sit through. I’m sure I know the process better than he does.

Because I’ve had his job before, mastered it long ago.

I skim him, searching the endless trove of memories trying to break through the fog of earthly business still clouding my mind. I don’t remember him. And I can see that he doesn’t know me.

Definitely new. Which means he’ll play the interview by the book. I groan.

The Advokat reaches out as if to comfort me, like my groan was one of anxiety and not disdain. “Try not to panic.”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes and flatten my gaze at him instead. I understand it’s his job to help me recover from the shock of death, but honestly, I’m fine. So I died—so what? There are many things worse than death, and one of them, if anyone ever bothered to ask me, is living. I’m actually thrilled to be back here—and I don’t need an Advokat to counsel me through the transition.

Also, I’m in a bit of a hurry. I have important business to attend to, even higher vibrations to achieve. I’m so close now, and he’s the only thing standing in my way.

I tap my foot and glance around for someone—anyone who might recognize me and give me an opportunity to walk away from this unnecessary formality.

“Everything will make sense soon.” The Advokat’s voice echoes through the white expanse around us. Clearly, all other souls are keeping their distance to allow me to transition without any added shock. Or—I narrow my eyes at the Advokat—he’s followed protocol by requesting they give us space.

And do we ever have it. As far as the eye can see, there’s nothing but static white. But I smile, and my shoulders relax—because this is my true home.

Just the way I remember it.

The Advokat leans into my line of sight. “Do you know your name?”

My smile drops.

In life, my name was Agnes. In this life, anyway.

There have been so many lives, so many names, but between them all, just one feels like home.

When it comes, my voice sounds like a lost, cherished memory. “Anaya.” My first word after death. The truest word I know.

The Advokat smiles and nods. He doesn’t take any notes or write anything down, and I know about that, too. The answers are in his mind, ready when he needs them, downloaded into his head from the source of all truth on the highest plane of vibration there is: El Olam, our master and creator. He sits so high none of us can reach him, above laws and structure. The world is as he makes it, and we are simply stewards of his creation, here to serve.

And today I’ll go one step further in the process of becoming a defender of creation. I’ll become a Firn.

The Advocat, who is becoming more annoying by the moment, interrupts my thoughts with yet another question. “Good. And do you know where you are?”

Where I am? Well it’s a much better place than where I was…

I was in Rome, in the fourth century. I rejected a boy, and he sold me out as a Christian. It took them forever to kill me—first with shame, then with flames. But all I gave them was a blank stare through the numbness. They couldn’t shame me. I wouldn’t burn when they strung me to the stake and lit the fire—even the flames knew not to touch me. But the Roman officer’s sword through my throat did the trick in the end. I was gone before I felt anything. So I guess the joke’s on them. There was darkness, then a burst of light—

And now I’m home, where none of that matters anymore. I’m free here. Because no one can shame or kill the dead. I’ll be safe as long as I stay.

“This is Lemayle,” I say quietly. “The afterlife. The real world.” And I have no intention of ever living again.

He rocks back and grins. “Wonderful!” Then his face stiffens. He swallows and his eyes shake as he looks me over for a second time, now scanning for any truths beneath the surface, anything I’m hiding from him. If souls could sweat, he’d be a mess as he prepares for the most important question of the interview.

I used to have his job, so I know what comes next. My answers from here on out will decide my final destination.

“All right.” He clears his throat. He doesn’t have to. It’s the nerves. I will be his enemy if I answer poorly, but he has to remain objective. He’s a professional, after all, and he doesn’t know whose side I’m on yet—what changes this most recent lifetime might have made in me.

I was martyred, and not all martyrs come back home the way they should. Martyrs go into life as warriors for El Olam’s cause … but don’t always return feeling their suffering was justified. Some turn against him and defect to the one who seeks to depose him.

And me? How do I feel about the suffering I was put through? Have I changed my mind about who to serve? And how dangerous does that make me to the fragile balance of the world? That’s what the Advokat needs to find out.

“Do the names El Olam and Narn mean anything to you?”

Good and evil. That’s what they mean. Free will and slavery. But which is which? Is El Olam good … or is he evil? Are Narn’s plans for less service to living souls and more dominion over them more appealing? Are they justified? No soul chooses evil.

They simply choose what they believe is right.

I hide my laugh with a cough at the tension in the Advokat’s hunched shoulders. If he’s new—and he wants to stay—he’ll need a stiffer a spine than he’s got now. I might as well be the one to give it to him.

I level my gaze at him, eyes wide open to appear just a little less threatening. “Yes. I know them.”

He nods, more rigidly this time, and rubs the back of his neck as he braces for my response to his final question.

“And … your allegiance?”

I stare at him for a long moment, watching the anxiety build behind his bright blue eyes. He doesn’t want any trouble, but his other hand twitches at his side, ready to summon the support of a slightly higher power—just in case I came back tainted.

Just in case I’ve decided I hate the way the world works … and want to serve the one trying to turn it upside down.

“Oh calm down,” I finally chide him. This has gone on long enough to bore me. I have business to attend to, and honestly, after fifty lifetimes, a soul should be able to just skip this process. “I chose El Olam lifetimes ago. I’m bound to be a Firn. This was my last run.”

His whole body wilts as the tension releases. Had I said Narn, the Advokat and I would have had a few issues. Because it would have meant I was a soul with eyes toward

flipping the script, turning the world upside down—force living souls to do as we say, and ruling over them as gods.

He’d have had to immediately summon one of Lemayle’s second-highest authorities—a Malekh, El Olam’s archangels—to deal with me. And it wouldn’t have been pleasant. The Malekh don’t like jokes. Most of them, anyway.

“Well that is a relief.” The Advokat’s hand slides from the back of his neck to clutch his chest, steadying the phantom sensation of a palpitating heart.

And I grin, even though I shouldn’t. But what’s the fun in seniority if you can’t mess with the rookies?

“We need as many Firns as we can get,” he admits, “events accelerating as they are.” I perk up at that. Accelerating events is much more my speed—though it gives me less time to meet the final criteria for joining the Firns’ ranks. “The living souls need all the protection we can give them,” he finishes.

I couldn’t agree more. And that’s where I come in—where all the Firns stand and serve El Olam. Without Firns to guide living souls and protect them from temptation and harm, Narn would flip the script. And humans would walk right into their own slavery.

But El Olam won’t allow it.

So neither will I. I’m so close now. Just one step left, and if I impress the Malekh and El Olam enough in my next job as a soul collector, then I’ll become a Firn, and one day I’ll be even more than that. If I perform well enough, I’ll be chosen as the Firn who oversees El Olam’s plan to defeat Narn once and for all. It has to be one of us, so it might as well be me. And I won’t stop until I see it happen.

Meanwhile, the Advokat extends his hand to me. “Best of luck to you. I hope you make the cut.”

I glance at his hand and back up to him. So he really hasn’t heard of me, then. I may not be a Firn yet, but I have made a name for myself as the one to watch for earning the coveted position in El Olam’s plan.

Well, if he hasn’t heard of me yet, he will soon enough.

“Thanks.” With a smirk, I grip his hand and shake it firmly enough to knock him off balance. “But I really don’t need luck.”

~~~~~

strayed author

Author KristaLyn A. Vetovich

KristaLyn A. Vetovich is the internationally published author of seven books and one short story, including the upcoming Prelude of the Reyn Gayst series releasing in 2018 from Glass House Press. She graduated in 2011 from Susquehanna University with a degree in English Literature and began traditionally publishing her novels the next year. KristaLyn is also a certified health and life coach and enjoys infusing her stories with motivational themes and characters from all walks of life.

KristaLyn lives in Pennsylvania with her husband and their corgi, Jack.

WEBSITE & SOCIAL LINKS:

WEBSITE | TWITTER | FACEBOOK

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KristaLyn A. Vetovich is giving away a $25 Amazon Gift Card!

Terms & Conditions:

  • By entering the giveaway, you are confirming you are at least 18 years old
  • One winner will be chosen via Rafflecopter
  • This giveaway ends midnight May 31
  • Winner will be contacted via email on May 31
  • Winner has 48 hours to reply

Good luck everyone!

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I won this book in a giveaway. I wish I could remember where from, but I lost all of my contact folders, so if I won this from you, Thanks So Much!

Romanov

  by Samaire Provost

36637219

c8df8-add2bto2bgoodreads2bblack

Genre: NA / Paranormal / Suspense/ Romance

My Review

A family of powerful vampires flee from persecution and wind up in America, starting a new life in Seattle. But, someone or something won’t stop hunting them. As strange creatures stalk the night and the family appears to be their focus, they’ll have to rely on each to survive and vanquish the evil.

What worked for me.

I thought it was  a nice touch to have the family of vampires actually be the Romanov’s family of Russian aristocracy. Persecuted and pursued, they fled to America, trying to assimilate into society and hide in plain sight. And I also liked that they weren’t pretty vampires. They were actually more like shapeshifters and transformed into nightmarish beings. No nice vampires that only feed on animals.

What almost didn’t work, but did.

The instant love thing. Anna sees Eric and he sees her. Bang! Instant love. Normally I run far away from this scenario. But I stopped to think, and remembered how it felt when I had an instant attraction to someone. The more I read about these two, the more I wanted them to be together. So, I’d say the author made it work.

Lots of creatures.

There are deadly vampires, a huge dragon, some wee fairy dragons, and the Shetani. The Shetani are evil beings, dark as pitch. They come in all sizes and their shapes defy logic.

What builds the suspense.

At the end of each chapter, the suspense builds as the unknown being stalks the family, drawing closer. It adds to the creep factor and I’m always up for that.

Surprises.

Plenty of them. From Anna’s transformation into her hidden vampire form, to the reveal of who’s been pursuing them for over a hundred years, and so much in between.

The ending.

As I read the last few chapters of the book and I got all wrapped up in the action, I wasn’t thinking about how it would end. I was caught off guard and it worked for me.

I’d recommend this to those who like their vampires dark and deadly, but also able to love. And to readers who like magical creatures, good or evil.

Star Yellow Christmas Star Christmas X-Mas Star Yellow Christmas Star Christmas X-MasStar Yellow Christmas Star Christmas X-MasStar Yellow Christmas Star Christmas X-Mas

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Synopsis

In an abandoned warehouse in Manhattan, two enemies battle to the death, while outside, a malevolent entity watches and waits and plots, eager for blood. On an island in the heart of Seattle, an immortal princess struggles to lead a normal life just as a flood of terrifying creatures starts to pour in through a portal that should not be there. A young man meets a classmate while walking home from the college library, and embarks on the most dangerous adventure he’s ever known – will he survive? A deranged madman hunts the girl he’s lusted after for a century, in a relentless pursuit for vengeance. A prehistoric, mythical beast jealously guards a primeval land, which is leaking into present-day Seattle. A sweet, forbidden passion blossoms between two lovers who steal moments whenever they can, while unbeknownst to them, they’re hunted by a deadly creature.

A royal family threatened at its weakest – yet lethal in its own right – is stalked by an ancient evil that will not rest until they are utterly destroyed: a nightmare incarnate that has waited millions of years for revenge threatens the very existence of the young lovers and their family.

Will they prevail?

Amazon / B&N

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.

Don’t Look at Me
J.P. Grider
Publication date: March 29th 2018
Genres: New Adult, Romance, Suspense

Haven:
A diligent hand carved this hole in my face.
It stole my confidence, my identity, and ended my short-lived career as a broadcast journalist.
I am now unemployed. Alone. Ugly.
And expected to get over it and move on.
Go on living life as usual—as if the world doesn’t judge the grotesquely unattractive.

Quest:
It’s been three years since I was kicked out of the Army for nearly killing the opposition’s militia commander with my bare hands.
I am now unemployed. Alone. Angry.
And expected to forget the nightmares that hold me hostage and move on.
Go on living life as usual—as if the world doesn’t judge a dishonorably discharged ex-soldier.

Don’t Look at Me is a modern-day Beauty and the Beast tale—reversed and twisted. Because even the ugly need a good story, and even the beautiful are ugly deep down.

Goodreads / Amazon

~~~~~

Check out this glimpse inside:

(I know all too well that transitions are difficult)

When I moved to Jersey from California, I had no idea that days would go by where I wouldn’t think of the incident that led to my being other-than-honorably discharged. For me, the events of that night have been branded into my brain—the consistent nightmares the hot iron that won’t let the scars heal. But since finding out about Haven’s attack, I find myself thinking about her more and more—why was she walking alone in the middle of the night? What was going through her mind when she was so viciously attacked? What is going through her mind now? Was she raped? It isn’t part of the slasher’s modus operandi to sexually assault his attackers, but he also doesn’t carve out whole sections of skin in the faces of his victims. According to reports I’ve read over and over online since learning of Haven’s attack, his approach is to leave two parallel slash marks down the right side of his victims’ cheek. From what I could see in the dark, the heft of Haven’s lacerations are on the left side of her face. It doesn’t make sense. The Stratford Slasher has only attacked each of his victims once, but if Haven’s wounds weren’t inflicted by this same man, could the one that did hurt her return to finish the job? I wish she’d take me up on my offer to help me in the store. Then I could keep an eye on her and make sure that doesn’t happen. But she barely stays on the phone with me for two minutes when I call her to ask. And the only time she’s ever called me was to thank me for the supplies she very much needed during the storm two weeks ago. I know she has a lot to work through since her attack, but I wish she’d let me help her to get through this transition from on-air personality to whatever she needs to do next. Because I know all too well that transitions are difficult. Especially when that transition requires living an entirely different life than before.

With Haven at the forefront of my mind, I can’t help but blurt out a question during one of our group sessions. “How can I help a friend who doesn’t seem to want my help?”

“You don’t,” Warren says at the same time Mary asks, “What kind of help does your friend need?”

“She needs help getting her life back. It was pretty much taken from her when some loser used her face as a canvas to do with as he pleased.”

“Poor girl,” Mary says while the others mumble something similar.

“And now she won’t go out in public. She has her food delivered to her. She only goes out in the middle of the night, wearing a getup she thinks hides her face.”

“Does she trust you to help her, Quest?” Mary leans forward, crossing her hands over her lap. Mary’s name suits her. She’s kind, soft-spoken, and nurturing. The Virgin Mary, my mother would say. The Mother of all mothers.

I answer honestly. “She hasn’t known me long enough.”

“Until she can trust you, I don’t think she’s going to accept your help. Is she getting counseling?”

“I don’t think so.”

“It sounds like she could use some professional counseling, but would she be open-minded about giving this group a chance? To get her headed in the right direction?”

My eyes go to the fluorescent lights on the ceiling. “I doubt it.”

“Then, just be her friend. Don’t try to help her overcome this, just be there for her until she finds her way.”

So, that’s what I resolve to do. Be her friend.

 

Author J.P. Grider

J.P. Grider is a New Adult/Young Adult author who is a sucker for a good love story—whether it’s reading one or writing one. And when she’s not reading or writing a fairy tale, she’s living one with her husband, four children, and her little Auggie Doggie.

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