Tuesday, February 28, 2023

THE MENAGERIE by Judy Willmore #HistoricalMystery #Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The author will award a $15 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

FranÇoise-AthÉnaÏs de Rochechouart de Mortemart had to have Louis, King of France, but his other mistresses stood in the way. Then she meets the very helpful sorceress and AthÉnaÏs gets her wish. But soon Louis hears tales of witchcraft and poison, a conspiracy spreading through his court—like the beasts in the Versailles menagerie, courtesans are clawing their way to his favor, and his bed. He orders Lieutenant General of Police Gabriel-Nicolas de la Reynie to investigate. Mysterious deaths mount while La Reynie presses on, hauling in witches, charlatans, and the nobility alike. Grimy fingers point to AthÉnaÏs, the King's mistress, with whispers of a black mass celebrated over her naked body. Then La Reynie discovers a plot to kill her.

Read an Excerpt

For Gabriel-Nicolas de La Reynie, the Poisons Affair began in such an ordinary way, routine. Or it should have been routine. La Reynie had been Lieutenant-General of Police exactly one day and here was a body. His first.

And he really had no clue what to do.

“Zut alors!”

La Reynie had been a judge with quiet chambers and a library filled with the classics, Greek and Roman philosophers always there to calm his mind and steady his hand. But then he was appointed to the newly created post by His Majesty, charged with transforming Paris from a wretched, stinking, dangerous place into a modern city. He had been studying, planning for weeks: clean the garbage out of the streets, catch the criminals, install lanterns to chase away the shadows and make the night safe. La Reynie’s predecessor, the Criminal Lieutenant, had been killed by robbers; then the Civil Lieutenant also died, quite possibly by poison. Now La Reynie had to replace both.

He was meeting with Sergeant Dupont to discuss the street lanterns when they were urgently summoned. “Poison!” cried the citizens, who led them to a scene of tangled bedclothes, stench of vomit and bloody diarrhea, the corpse’s face grimacing in agony. The black robed doctor was putting away his implements preparing to leave.

La Reynie glanced at the door—the weeping family had been exiled from the room—and asked, “Doctor, we were summoned here with a claim this death is suspicious. Do you believe that to be the case?”

The doctor gazed at the body, his wrinkled face a puzzle. “The symptoms are consistent with arsenic poisoning, but—”


He sighed. “If it was arsenic, the poisoner was very careless.”


“It could be arsenicum, rat poison. If arsenic is consumed on an empty stomach, symptoms are immediate and death soon. If taken with food, the signs are less immediately apparent and death delayed, but inevitable. I have heard that to avoid suspicion, arsenic should be administered over several weeks. The victim grows ill, and weak, and finally succumbs. The symptoms are not as obvious and the cause difficult to detect.”

La Reynie turned to Dupont. Surely, he would know how to handle this. “Sergeant? Your opinion?”

Dupont, portly and stolid, shrugged. “The relatives claim the widow was unfaithful, and besides, she detested her husband.”

“And that is all? No other proof?”

“This is the third suspicious death this month. Same symptoms.” He looked at La Reynie with an inquiring eyebrow as if to say, don’t you know what to do?

La Reynie turned to the doctor. “Is it at all possible to prove it was poison?”

The doctor sighed and looked at La Reynie with a condescending smile. “No, monsieur, not conclusively.” He shut his little bag and walked out.

La Reynie looked back down at the body. Merde. Should he warn the King?

About the Author:
Judy Willmore is a former journalist, then private investigator, and now a psychotherapist who practices in Albuquerque, New Mexico. Her historical mystery The Menagerie was published in 2021 by Artemesia Press, and she is now working on a sequel.

The book is on sale for only $0.99.



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Thursday, February 23, 2023

The Dragon Eater, Tharassas Cycle book one by J. Scott Coatsworth #SciFi #giveaway

The Dragon Eater - J. Scott Coatsworth

We have the cover reveal for J. Scott Coatsworth's upcoming YA/Crossover Sci-Fantasy book The Dragon Eater, Tharassas Cycle book one. And there's a giveaway!

Raven's a thief who just swallowed a dragon. A small one, sure, but now his arms are growing scales, the local wildlife is acting up, and his snarky AI familiar is no help whatsoever.

Raven's best friend Aik is a guardsman carrying a torch for the thief. A pickpocket and a guard? Never going to happen. And Aik’s ex-fiancé Silya, an initiate priestess in the midst of a magical crisis, hates Raven with the heat of a thousand suns.

This unlikely team must work together to face strange beasts, alien artifacts, and a world-altering threat. If they don’t figure out what to do soon, it might just be the end of everything.

Things are about to get messy.

About the Series:

The Tharassas Cycle is a four book sci-fantasy series set on the recently colonized world of Tharassas. When humans first arrived on planet, they thought they were alone until the hencha mind made itself known. But now a new threat has arisen to challenge both humankind and their new allies on this alien world.

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Scott is giving away a $20 book gift card with this reveal – your choice of Amazon, B&N, Kobo or Smashwords. Enter for a chance to win:

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The Dragon Eater meme - J. Scott Coatsworth

Spin’s voice echoed in his ear. “This is a bad idea, boss.”

“Shush,” Raven whispered to his familiar.

He needed to concentrate. Cheek and jowl against the smooth cobblestones, he held his breath and prayed to the gods that no one had seen him duck under the sea master’s ornate carriage. The setting sun cast long shadows from a pair of boots so close to his face that the dust and leather made him want to sneeze. Their owner was deep in conversation with the sea master, the hem of her fine mur silk trousers barely visible. The two women’s voices were hushed, and he could only make out the occasional word.

Raven rubbed the old burn scar on his cheek absently, wishing they would go away.

“Seriously, boss. I’m not from this world, and even I know it’s a bad idea to steal from the sea master.”

Though only he could hear Spin’s voice, Raven wished the little silver ay-eye would just shut up.

The hencha cloth-wrapped package in the carriage above was calling to him. He’d wanted it since he’d first seen it through the open door. No, needed it. Like he needed air, even though he had no idea what was inside. He scratched the back of his hand hard to distract himself from its disturbing pull.

An inthym popped its head out of the sewer grate in front of him, sniffing the air. Raven glared at the little white rodent, willing it to go away. Instead, the cursed thing nibbled at his nose.

Raven sneezed, then covered his mouth. He held his breath, staring at the boots. Don’t let them hear me.

A shiny silver feeler poked out of his shirt pocket, emitting a golden glow that illuminated the cobblestones underneath him. “Boss, you all right?” Spin’s whisper had that sarcastic edge he often used when he was annoyed. “Your heart rate is elevated.”

“Be. Quiet.” Raven gritted his teeth. Spin had the worst sense of timing.

The woman — one of the guard, maybe? — and the sea master stepped away, their voices fading into the distance.

Raven said a quick prayer of thanks to Jor’Oss, the goddess of wild luck, and flicked the inthym back into the sewer. “Shoo!”

He popped his head out from under the carriage to take a quick look around. There was no one between him and the squat gray Sea Guild headquarters. It was time. Grab it and go.

He reached into the luxurious carriage — a host of mur beetles must have spent years spinning all the red silk that lined the interior — and snagged the package. He hoped it was the treasury payment for the week. If so, it should hold enough coin to feed an orphanage for a month, and he knew just the one. “Got it.”

“Good. Now get us out of here.”

A strange tingling surged through his hand. Raven frowned.

Must have pinched a nerve or something.

Ignoring it, he stuck the package under his arm, slipped around the carriage, and set off down Gullton’s main thoroughfare. He walked as casually as he could, hoping no one would notice the missing package until he was long gone.

“We clear?”

Spin’s feeler blinked red. “No. Run! They’ve seen you.”

Raven ran.

Author Bio

J. Scott Coatsworth

Scott lives with his husband Mark in a yellow bungalow in Sacramento. He was indoctrinated into fantasy and sci fi by his mother at the tender age of nine. He devoured her library, but as he grew up, he wondered where all the people like him were.

He decided that if there weren’t queer characters in his favorite genres, he would remake them to his own ends.

A Rainbow Award winning author, he runs Queer Sci Fi, QueeRomance Ink, and Other Worlds Ink with Mark, sites that celebrate fiction reflecting queer reality, and is the committee chair for the Indie Authors Committee at the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA).

Author Website: https://www.jscottcoatsworth.com

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/jscottcoatsworth/

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/jscottcoatsworthauthor

Author Twitter: https://twitter.com/jscoatsworth

Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/jscottcoatsworth/

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8392709.J_Scott_Coatsworth

Author Mastodon: https://mastodon.otherworldsink.com/@jscottcoatsworth

Author Liminal Fiction (LimFic.com): https://www.limfic.com/mbm-book-author/j-scott-coatsworth/

Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/j-scott-coatsworth/

Author Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/J.-Scott-Coatsworth/e/B011AFO4OQ

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Tuesday, February 21, 2023

HENRY by Harley Wylde & Jessica Coulter Smith #mc #paranormal #romance @ChangelingPress


(Devoted Guardians MC)

Motorcycle Club, Fantasy, Paranormal Romance, Shifters, Mages

Date Published: February 24, 2023


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Raya -- Elias kidnapped me nearly a decade ago and used me for his awful experiments. His goal: to create a superior race. How could that possibly go wrong? Now I’m no longer fully human and I’ve lived a life in hell. But I adore my two kids, no matter how they were conceived. I thought we’d die before we ever found freedom, but it arrived in the most unexpected way. The big biker shifter is scary as hell, but it’s either go with him, or remain chained and starving.

Henry -- The dark mage killed my mate and unborn child. There’s nothing I want more than revenge. It never occurred to me he’d have a woman and kids chained in his cellar. They reek of black magick, enough so, I hated them on sight. I’d planned to leave them behind. Until I heard their story. My club won’t be happy when I walk in with three people covered in the stench of black magick. But something unexpected happens when I catch Raya’s true scent. She’s my fated mate, and now I have the difficult task of not only gaining her trust, but the children’s as well.


WARNING: Contains subject matter some readers may find difficult to read. Recommended for ages 18+ due to adult situations, bad language, and violence. Guaranteed happily-ever-after, no cheating, and no cliffhanger.



Copyright ©2023 Harley Wylde & Jessica Coulter Smith



Elias paced the small cabin. I didn’t know why we’d come here. He’d spoken about this town before. Many times. I knew a shifter nearly killed him thirty years ago. Fatally wounded, he’d escaped to a community of mages, where they’d healed him. It had taken years for him to regain his health and full power. He’d often bragged about surviving.

Why return now? He’d dragged us all over the country. At first, I’d thought he was running from something. Now I wondered if he’d simply been heading toward Wolf Creek. Even though I’d been with him for years, he never confided in me. Not about anything important. There was no reason for it, since I was little more than a prisoner. His slave.

I heard the chains clink in the cellar and fought not to wince. It wouldn’t be long before I joined them. My babies. No matter how they’d been conceived, I’d love them with all my heart until the day I died. They were my reason for living. And the only way Elias maintained control over me all this time. If it weren’t for my precious children, I’d have run before now.

“It’s nearly time,” he muttered. “I’ll take her just like the others. I’m sure she’ll be useful. Stupid fucking dhampir doesn’t know why I invited him to Wolf Creek. Everything is falling into place.”

Her? I didn’t know who he was talking about, and I would not ask. And a dhampir? Did he mean the man I’d heard him speaking to a few times? It didn’t matter. The less I knew, the better. I’d learned that the hard way. Although, his words bothered me a great deal. Was he going to enslave someone else? I reached up to lightly touch the collar around my throat. I hadn’t been the first, nor the last. However, I’d been the only woman to survive.

Elias not only used black magick, but he also liked to experiment. He’d abducted countless women across the globe, all in the name of creating a better species. It wasn’t something recent, either. From what I’d learned during my time with him, he’d been working on this project for decades. Even before he’d fled Wolf Creek thirty years ago. I didn’t know what made me so special. Why had I survived when others hadn’t?

I lifted my hand and stared at my fingers. Even now, black tendrils of smoke shifted around the digits. I’d been completely human until Elias snatched me off the street. Through pain and suffering, he’d infused me with some of his black magick. I couldn’t actually use it, but it had become part of my cellular structure, which meant I passed those traits to my children, which had been his intent all along.

“It’s time.” He rubbed his hands together, a wide smile on his face. “Into the basement. You know the rules. Keep your mouth shut. But first… I’m going to prep you for a special guest arriving within the next two days.”

I knew exactly what that meant. He removed a syringe from his pocket and injected me with the serum that would make me mindless with need. While he preferred for me to get pregnant without it, and enjoyed hearing me scream in pain, he’d used this on me several times before. I honestly thought he got off on hearing me beg for someone to fuck me. At least, it didn’t take effect immediately.

Elias tossed the syringe aside and gave me a shove, and I walked to the hidden door. He opened it and I went down the steps into what I assumed had once been a root cellar. My children perked up when they saw me. Elias followed me into the hole, attaching a chain to my collar. I held open my arms and my babies ran to me. Their chains barely reached, but we were close enough I could hold them.

I smoothed the hair of my precious little girl, Marigold, and kissed the forehead of my son, Logan. Mari had not only inherited some of the black magick, but she’d also gained her father’s ability to shift. As for Logan, he only had black magick. His father had been a dark mage like Elias.

“I’m scared,” Mari said.

I hugged her tight and wished I could ease her fears. Instead, I did my best to tamp down my own. I didn’t think we’d ever escape Elias. One day, he’d sell my children. When I became useless, he’d kill me. As it was, I’d lost the last two babies. I knew he was searching for another male to impregnate me. He’d desperately wanted a baby that was half vampire and half dark mage. It seemed my body rejected the vampire’s offspring, as both babies came from the same male.

“When I’m older, I’m going to get us out of here,” Logan said. “With my magick, I’ll take down Elias and free us from this prison.”

I placed my fingers over his lips. “Hush, sweetheart. If he hears you say such a thing…”

He nodded, understanding what I meant. I hated that my children had to grow up so quickly. They’d never been able to play, make friends, or enjoy their lives. If I thought it would be possible to run away with them, I’d have done it long ago. But I knew Elias would hunt us down and punish us.

The door upstairs slammed, and the tension in my body eased. At least he would be gone for a while. I felt bad for whatever woman he’d lured to this town. Would her fate be the same as mine? I hoped not. I didn’t wish this existence on anyone.

Mari began humming The Itsy Bitsy Spider, and I rocked her. Logan slumped against my side and stared at the opposite wall. Elias hadn’t even left us with anything to occupy ourselves while he was gone. There’d been times he’d left a rubber ball or a pack of crayons and a coloring book. I knew it wasn’t out of the kindness of his black heart. He’d claimed it made the children less whiny and more tolerable.

“One day, if we’re ever free of Elias, you’ll get to enroll in school so you can learn new things. You’ll make friends. Play outside. Go to the movie theater, the park, learn to swim. We’ll have so much fun.” I smiled wistfully, thinking of all they’d missed out on, and the things I’d taken for granted before Elias kidnapped me.

“Do you really think we’ll ever get away from him?” Logan asked.

My heart ached at the despair in his voice. My little angel already knew the answer. No matter how much I’d tried to instill hope in my children, Logan somehow knew we’d be the property of Elias until he either sold us or killed us.

I couldn’t answer him, refusing to lie.

Mari dozed a bit, and even Logan closed his eyes for a little while. Every second was even more agonizing, because time stretched endlessly in the cellar. At least the lightbulb hadn’t gone out. The dim light helped little, but it dispelled some of the darkness. Being locked down here in absolute blackness would have been much worse.

Mari whimpered in her sleep, waking Logan. I smoothed her hair and murmured to her, hoping to ease whatever nightmare she might be having. Logan blinked and rubbed his eyes before sitting up a little straighter. I knew he’d fight to stay awake now. My little boy had grown up entirely too fast.

Mari woke twice and dozed off again each time. While she napped, I told Logan a story. Mari liked the romantic fairy tales about princes. Logan, however, wanted action and adventure. His favorites were tales of pirates or explorers. So I talked about One-Eyed Willie, Captain Jack, and the others I’d watched in movies when I’d still had my freedom. He ate up every word, and it helped pass the time.

My stomach rumbled, and so did the children’s. Mari woke again, yawning and leaning away from me a little. I knew she wouldn’t fall asleep again anytime soon. Every time the monster who owned us made her go hungry, she’d be awake for hours. Unlike Logan, who said sleep made him feel less hungry.

Elias hadn’t left us with any food or water. A bucket in the corner served as a toilet, but none of us had been desperate enough to use it today. We’d each had a chance earlier to use the bathroom upstairs to relieve ourselves and clean up a little.

“He’s been gone a while,” Logan said. “He didn’t forget us, did he? I’m not sure starving to death is much better than suffering whatever he’s planned for us.”

With no windows, I couldn’t tell what time of day it was by now. However, my butt had gone numb from sitting on the hard ground. I had to have been down here for more than an hour. I listened intently, wondering if Elias had managed to quietly return. Minutes ticked by, and when I was going to give up, I heard booted steps. They seemed to scout the entire house.

Would they find the hidden door to the cellar? Did we want them to? I caught Logan’s gaze, and he gave me a slight nod. Whatever he sensed or smelled seemed to make him feel as if the person upstairs wouldn’t harm us.

“Help! Please, we’re down here!” I yelled as loud as I could. By the fifth time I’d called out, the door at the top of the stairs opened and a large silhouette moved toward us. My breath caught when the man approached. I couldn’t tell his age and depending on what he was, he could have been hundreds of years old and still appeared young.

“What the fuck?” he muttered. His gaze narrowed on me before shifting to my children. I held them tighter, wondering if I’d made a mistake by calling for help. “Who are you?”

Author Contact Links

Harley Wylde on Facebook , TikTok, Instagram: @harleywylde

Jessica Coulter Smith on Instagram: @jessica_coulter_smith


Follow the Publisher

Instagram/Facebook/Twitter: @changelingpress


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Monday, February 20, 2023

The Very Dead of Winter by Miles Watson #HistoricalFiction @rabtbooktours


A Sinner's Cross Novel, Book 2

Historical Fiction

Date Published: 07-04-2022

Publisher: One Nine Books

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On the eve of what will be known as The Battle of the Bulge, the survivors of Sinner's Cross are scattered all over Europe. Halleck, the tough Texan who drives men like cattle, finds himself surrounded in the snow-blanketed forests of the Eifel Mountains riding herd on greenhorn soldiers; Breese, the phony hero with a chip on his shoulder the size of Rushmore, embarks on a bloody mission of redemption behind enemy lines; Cramm, the one-eyed, one-armed German staff officer, tries to balance duty against his lust for vengeance against those who crippled him. Three men separated by war will once again converge... in The Very Dead of Winter.

Winner of the Literary Titan Gold Medal and the Pinnacle Book Achievement Award.

About the Author

Miles Watson is the x15 award-winning author of the CAGE LIFE and SINNER'S CROSS book series as well as the short story collection DEVIL'S YOU KNOW. A veteran of both Hollywood and law enforcement, his first and last passion is writing, and he intends to publish in every genre before he cashes in his chips.

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Friday, February 17, 2023

Cover Reveal: When Love Lasts by O.L. Obonna (@omoscorner) #romance


Book Blurb

Theirs was a marriage made in heaven, a marriage meant to last forever or so they thought.

A once-perfect marriage was thrown into a fragile state as a result of tiny whispers, and an unfortunate encounter causes the marriage to collapse. The once happy couple separate and a heartbroken Leilani returns home to London. And then out of the blue, Folarin’s family needs Leilani’s help and she must return to her ex-husband’s side. A series of unfortunate events have brought them together again and Folarin and Leilani must come to terms with the realisation, that somebody, somewhere was wrong. As they spend more time together, falling in love seems inevitable; even though one of them is promised to another, they must find a way to learn to trust and forgive each other in other to move on.
Will Folarin be able to trust Leilani?  

Will Leilani be able to forget the pain of their first marriage?  

Will they both believe in second chances?



Hello?” Leilani answered her phone after it had rung a couple of times.

“Hello, Leilani.”
Leilani froze. She would know that voice anywhere; it was

the voice of someone she would never forget. Folarin Balogun, her unforgiving ex-husband. It had been two years since she had last heard from him, two years since that fateful night when their marriage had ended abruptly. She almost dropped the phone in shock.

“How did you get my number?” she asked, slumping into her chair in the back office of her café.

Silence. Then Folarin Balogun responded quietly, “I got your number from Tega.”

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath and waited for a couple of seconds. “What do you want, Folarin?” she asked in a very unfriendly tone. “You must have a reason for calling me.” Leilani knew that she sounded rude, but she didn’t care. She was in no mood to be polite to Folarin Balogun.

He had hurt her so much. Back then, she thought she would die from the pain he had caused her. It had taken her a long time to heal, and now she was ready to move on. Hearing his voice again brought back painful memories, memories she would rather leave in the past, where they belonged.


Author Biography

O.L OBONNA was born in Lagos, Nigeria. For as long as she can remember, she has always wanted to tell stories about love and romance by creating and immersing readers in the romantic adventures of fascinating characters. Her stories are a peek into her version of the excitement, allure, and mystery of the age-old sentimental narrative of love, which she so beautifully and intricately weaves together into a genuinely fascinating read. When she’s not surrounding herself with words or reading a romance novel, you can find her in the kitchen trying out new recipes or painting with her children. 

She lives in London and is happily married with three children. 

Website: www.omoscorner.com

Instagram: @omos_corner

Twitter: @omoscorner


Cover reveal organised by Writer Marketing Services.

Tuesday, February 14, 2023

Party Animal by Gale Stanley #gay #romance #MFRWsteam


Welcome to the February Steam Hop! If you’d like to heat up these winter nights, you’re in the right place. 

The MFRW Steam blog hop is a monthly event that showcases authors in the Marketing for Romance Writers community who write steamy stories.

Today I'm sharing a delicious teaser from my contemporary romance Party Animal. Enjoy! Then follow the links for more steamy excerpts.

PARTY ANIMAL by Gale Stanley

Casey Cox is a porn star legend. Life is a never-ending party and there’s always a hot guy or two willing to play. Then Casey meets the one man who isn’t interested and suddenly it’s a challenge he can’t resist.


“You’ve drunk too much, Casey. Let me take you outside and I’ll get you a cab.”

“I’m not ready to leave.”

“Then come back to the table and have some coffee.”

“After this dance.”

“I can’t dance.”

“They’re playing a slow one. Just follow me.”

“And then you’ll come sit down?”

“Cross my heart, hope to die.”

Lee sighed with resignation. He reached for the waistband of my jeans. For a second I thought he was going to touch me and my pulse raced. But he very chastely buttoned me up. I grinned at him. “You’re such a gentleman.”

He smiled and moved into my arms. We started to sway to the music. It felt good. Better than I imagined. Lee’s hard dick pressed against my thigh so I knew he wasn’t entirely unaffected by me. I put my hands on the small of his back and pulled him closer. He didn’t protest, so I took it further. I slipped a hand down his pants and under his briefs to squeeze his bare ass. Lee’s body tensed in my arms, but he didn’t say anything. I took that as acceptance and I kept massaging his cheek. Maybe he liked what he saw at the studio the other day.

Lee leaned his head against my shoulder and I whispered in his ear. “You lied to me. You’re a great dancer. ”He gasped when I traced the crease of his ass. My finger teased his hole, and then slid inside. “Stop,” he whispered. “Let’s go sit down.”

“The song isn’t over.” I nipped his earlobe, and licked the tender skin below his ear. I swear I heard him moan. Our bodies swayed as if we were one. He rubbed his groin against me and my head spun. I swear I felt butterfly wings flutter in my chest. If this went on any longer, I feared I might come in my pants. This had never happened to me before. I wanted to dance with him all night. But the music ended and Lee disentangled himself from my arms.

He was breathing a little heavier and he looked flushed. “Come on, Casey. You promised you’d sit down.” He attempted to pull me off the dance floor.

“One more dance.”

“Do you have a hard time keeping your promises?”

“No.” I had promised, but I would have followed him anyway. I wanted to fuck him and I was hoping he’d come home with me tonight. “I always keep my word.”

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Author Bio and Links

Gale Stanley grew up in Philadelphia PA. She was the kid who always had her nose in a book, her head in the clouds, and her hands on a pad and pencil.

Some things never change.

 Website | Blog | Twitter | FaceBook | Instagram | Pinterest

Read more great excerpts here:


Rocky Mountain Kid by Virginia Fox #Romance


(Rocky Mountain Romances, Book 4)


Date Published: February 14, 2023

Publisher:  Dragonbooks Publishing House

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Can even the coldest heart be thawed? You bet! And your friends in Independence Junction prove it’s possible when a new kid comes to town. Get ready for some horsing around in the fourth book of the Rocky Mountain Romances series.


What happens when nosy reporter Paige catches wind of a kiddo named Leslie getting adopted by local Rancher Paula—who everyone knows has a heart dripping with icicles? Paige moves in for the feel-good story of the year, grabs the exclusive interview, then sets off a chain of events that threaten to upend the peace and quiet in Independence Junction.

It turns out, Leslie has to go in and testify against her past foster parents. The question is, will this lead to a better life for this kid’s uncertain future? And what happens when she brings a furry friend with her?

Meanwhile, love is in the air. Rancher Paula and the local veterinarian, Nate, begin to hit it off. The next thing we know, Paige and the fire chief also start making sparks. On top of that? A cast of four-legged friends help their humans in unexpected ways—saving the day time and again—proving that even the coldest hearts can be thawed in a Rocky Mountain Romance.


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Earth Con Galactic Treasure by Theodora Marie Adams #SciFi #Romance @changelingpress


Sci-Fi Romance, LGBTQ, Alien Encounters, Multiple Partners

Date Published: February 17, 2023

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Connor Masterson has finally managed to take some time off and go to Earth Con. For three days and nights, he's going to get his geek on without worrying about work or the latest edition of his science fiction manga. He never expected to find two men who embody all his dreams and fantasies there and certainly not right after signing in. 

Neither Valvik nor Zaraheed are looking forward to their current assignment: go to the Earth Con located in Austin, Texas and track down any and all rumors on the Ark scrolls, an ancient collection needed for the betterment of their dying people. Neither warrior expects to be drawn to a human, especially the same one.

The two men are determined to stay as low key as possible while searching for the scrolls, but that might be hard to do when an intergalactic killer wants the scrolls for himself.



Copyright ©2023 Theodora Marie Adams


"I truly cannot believe you have somehow convinced me to participate in this harebrained scheme of yours," Valvik growled through clenched teeth as he looked around the lobby. It was filled with people clustered in groups. Some were talking loudly, others were whispering as though fearful someone other than their neighbor would hear their innermost secrets. There were humans dressed in their favorite character's attire, aliens, human and alien scientists, intergalactic explorers and military men and women, and everything in between represented in the lobby of the center housing this weekend's Earth Con.

Valvik pulled at the hem of his simple white T-shirt. He felt ridiculously underdressed seeing as more than a quarter of the people there were dressed to the nines in their costumes and regalia, particularly those with an intergalactic military background. "I should have worn my uniform," he snarled.

"This is an important assignment given to us by General Tsubotai himself." Zaraheed turned slightly and looked over his shoulder at Valvik. His handsome face was a mask of displeasure. One dark eyebrow arched. "We are attempting to fit in. We are already conspicuous enough," he whispered harshly, glancing around at the many eyes watching them in curiosity.

At six feet eight, Valvik felt Zaraheed should be accustomed to being stared at on Earth. They'd been dealing with the looks the whole cursed assignment. Not that Valvik himself was much less physically impressive at six feet five inches.

Valvik stifled the urge to roll his eyes. It was a very human reaction, and really he was going to have to stop watching all their television, no matter how entertaining it was. "Humans are short. We look like giants compared to them. Second, we stand out because we are wearing regular clothing, or are you too blind to see everyone else is wearing their native ensembles? We are meant to be as discreet as possible."

"By dressing as humans, we actually stand out more," he grumbled. He glanced around the lobby again and blinked. "Isn't that a Pulloxian?" Valvik asked, and jerked his chin toward the being in question.

The being wore no disguise, at least none that Valvik could recognize. The male, and Valvik could tell its gender from the marks on his fur and their placement, was not trying to hide his large droopy eyes, medium green skin with black splotches, or his four-fingered, claw-tipped hands. To a human, the Pulloxian looked like a two-legged basset hound with slightly smaller ears and green fur. He was as conspicuous as one could get.

Zaraheed followed his gaze. He sighed and his broad shoulders slumped slightly. His amber eyes searched the group gathered around the Pulloxian. "Maybe you are right, as that one does seem to be basking in their attention," he admitted after a moment of contemplation.

"True." Valvik continued moving through the crowd so he could reach the check-in table that stood right in the middle front of the lobby. His superior hearing was able to capture bits and pieces of the conversation flowing around him. It seemed the Pulloxian was going to be a "shoe in" for best costume.

"Still, General Tsubotai was clear about what he expected of us."

"I read the mission parameters. There is no need to remind me. I would just like to point out that if we were allowed to wear our uniforms we would not be unarmed."

Zaraheed snorted. "You expect me to believe you are unarmed at the moment. Do not play me for a fool, Valvik the Glorious. You are probably carrying no less than five blades on your person."

Valvik allowed a small smile to settle across his mouth. "I am not as armed as I would like, and that is the truth. I am sure you feel the same, Zaraheed the Valiant," he retorted, looking his compatriot up and down.

Zaraheed's dark hair was bound into a single plait. The tail end of his sable hair swung just between the strong muscles of his back. A few strands had pulled free from the braid and framed the sides of Zaraheed's sharply planed handsome face. His most startling and mesmerizing feature was his eyes. They shifted colors depending on his emotion, going from the lightest sunset orange to the darkest color of a flame. Valvik had never seen such eyes before. He doubted he'd ever see another pair again.

Zaraheed caught Valvik staring. His gaze tightened. "What?" he asked.

Valvik shook his head. "Nothing. Forgive me. It seems I was lost in my thoughts," he admitted as he waved a consoling hand through the air.

Valvik was still trying to get accustomed to Zaraheed's dark complexion. As far as he knew all the members of the House of the Gallant had light hair and eyes. Valvik's house, Disciplined, had similar coloring. Valvik had pale blond hair and lavender eyes.

His dark hair and lightly tanned skin made Zaraheed an outsider, just as his gorgeous eyes did.

He'd heard rumors that Zaraheed was only half Tolkian. Valvik had done his best to ignore them as he wasn't much for gossip but he couldn't help wondering about the source of Zaraheed's mesmerizing features.

This was the second mission the two were working together so it wasn't that he'd never seen Zaraheed or noticed his unusual coloring, but there was something about seeing him in the lobby, wearing the preferred dress of the North American human male: white short-sleeve shirt and dark denim jeans, waiting in line for them to sign in for the Earth Convention that made Valvik all the more aware of his rich coloring.

The clothing should have made him appear as pale and washed out as it did Valvik, but Zaraheed looked magnificent. A small tendril of desire curled in his gut when he first walked into the convention center and spotted the Valiant warrior.

"I hope they are here," Zaraheed murmured, breaking him out of his thoughts.

Valvik grimaced, thinking on his words. It would be a shame if the scrolls they were searching for weren't on Earth. He personally thought it was ridiculous that the scrolls their whole legion had searched a thousand years and several galaxies for was supposedly on Earth and at a science fiction gathering. He laughed long and hard, until his stomach muscles protested, when his commanding officer relayed the information, thinking it was a joke.

Three standard months later and Valvik was in Austin, Texas, waiting in line for the Earth Convention.

Personally, Valvik didn't think there was a chance in all the known solar systems of the Ark scrolls being at the convention, but he went where his commanding officer sent him. Even if it was the stupidest mission ever. "If it is... I'm not entirely sure what I will do, but I know it will include lots and lots of blood," he muttered. And intoxicants. He would need barrels and barrels of wine to drink away the insult.

Zaraheed stilled. Valvik turned to look at his compatriot in question. Zaraheed shook his head as though confused, then, eyes bright, laughed. The booming sound caught the attention of the people waiting around them and they watched, mesmerized.

Valvik knew how they felt...



About the Author

Theodora is an avid traveler who discovered Japanese manga and anime in her youth, closely followed by yaoi. She's been in love with pretty boys who love equally attractive men since then. Theodora can usually be found in a local coffee shop drinking black tea and typing furiously.


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Thursday, February 9, 2023

The Metaphysical Detective by Kirsten Weiss #paranormal #giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Kirsten Weiss will be awarding a $10 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Midlife Magic and Murder... and a Dog Named Dog.

When Riga Hayworth finds her new client dead, she smells a setup of metaphysical proportions. Now, to find a killer, Riga must travel from San Francisco to the underworld of Greek mythology... and make it back alive.

Donovan, Vinnie, Pen and Brigitte – the story that started it all. The Metaphysical Detective is the prequel to the Riga Hayworth series. If you like Gen-X, no-nonsense heroines and supernatural with your mystery, you’ll love The Metaphysical Detective.

Buy this quirky paranormal women’s fiction and explore the magical world of Riga Hayworth today!

Read an Excerpt

She studied the paper heart for a long moment, then took it into her study and stuck it with a magnet to the whiteboard there, beside the others. The hearts formed two rows, lined up in order received:

Bee mine

I love U

U R sweet

Let’s kiss

My love

I adore u

When the first heart had arrived, she’d shrugged it off. At the second’s arrival, Riga had been irritated enough to dust for prints.

There weren’t any.

By the fourth, she’d rigged a discreet camera to watch her door. But when she reviewed the tape, all she saw was an empty doormat, followed by a quick blip of electrical snow, and in the next shot the valentine was there.

Next, she’d placed a camera against the peep hole in her door. The view from the fisheye didn’t reach the doormat, but it would capture anyone who came near. Valentine number five arrived, and there was nothing on the tape – not even a blip of white noise.

She couldn’t magically ward the hall, because her neighbor used it too. Magic couldn’t solve everything – not that she hadn’t tried. Her attempts to use the valentines to magically reveal her stalker had failed. It was as if he didn’t exist.

The construction paper was a common brand. Schoolchildren used it. She’d called in a favor and had the ink analyzed. It was from a normal felt-tip pen. There was only one anomaly. The smudges of dirt on each valentine came from a local park.

It was driving her batty.

About the Author:
Kirsten Weiss conjures up action-packed witch mysteries based on contemporary and historical magical practices. Her witchy heroines aren’t perfect (and neither are their familiars), but they’re smart, they struggle, and they succeed.

Kirsten writes in a house high on a hill in the Colorado woods and occasionally ventures out for wine and chocolate. She is best known for her Doyle Witch and Riga Hayworth paranormal mystery books. Are you ready to be enchanted? Just turn the page and… voila!

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Tuesday, February 7, 2023

ROMAN by Marteeka Karland #MCromance @changelingpress


(Iron Tzars MC)

Contemporary Romance, Suspense, Motorcycle Club, Age Gap

Date Published: February 10, 2023


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Winter -- My life hasn’t been easy. For so long, my sister has been the only one I could rely on. When we were teenagers our father sold us to sexual predators who hurt us. We both have the scars to prove it. But we were rescued, and I got revenge for both of us. That was over a decade ago. I love the home we found with Black Reign, but now it’s time to move on. To live outside the cocoon the club wrapped us in. Another club who’s found a girl in a situation similar to the hell we left behind all those years ago may be our answer. One man in particular calls to me on a primitive level. His name is Roman. And I want him for my own.

Roman -- I’m the enforcer for Iron Tzars. Violence is in the job description. Never thought I’d find myself attracted to a woman as fragile as Winter. She and her sister have been through a lot, but there’s a core of iron in her. She’s stronger than she looks, and the fight in her stirs the primitive Alpha male inside me. It’s time I show her she’s more than the sum of her scars. She’s a friggin’ goddess.



All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2023 Marteeka Karland



I’d never been so glad to leave a place behind as I cheerfully rolled out of Lake Worth, Florida. I did my part as enforcer for Iron Tzars, but the entire time we’d been there I felt like we were outgunned. Black Reign MC might not be a rival club, but they were by no means safe. As evidenced by the way they took care of business with the fucking men we’d caught taking orphans from the group home in the city.

Violence didn’t bother me. If a motherfucker deserved it, there was no limit. My balls were twitching because of the casual ease with which that bastard, Chief, had taken the skin off the men he tortured. Yeah, Brick had participated, but our VP was emotionless on the best of days. Chief and El Diablo were different. I wouldn’t say they enjoyed the act, but I wouldn’t say they didn’t, either. It hadn’t bothered them in the least.

But what really had me glad to see this place in my rear view were the twin women who haunted the place like ghosts. Eerily lovely, they always seemed to be where I was. Neither said anything, but they stared at me constantly. More than one of Black Reign’s members gave me the stink-eye over it, too though no one would tell me why. Only that I should stay away from them. I didn’t even know the pair’s names, for fuck’s sake! Didn’t want to know!

I drove the Bronco we’d taken as a chase vehicle down to Lake Worth. Normally I’d ride my bike with the other brothers, but someone had to drive the big thing back to Evansville. As Road Captain, the task would normally fall to Clutch, but he’d had a family emergency and had headed back early. After that, I’d drawn the short straw. My bike was stowed in the trailer, and here I was. Behind the wheel of a fucking cage.

Lost in thought, my eyes on the road as my brothers surrounded the cage in front and behind, I reached over and switched on the radio. I had no desire to dwell on another club. Not even one our former president -- and my long-time friend -- now belonged to. I was an enforcer in Iron Tzars. Not Sergeant at Arms. I didn’t need to find trouble, only punish it. Besides, if Sting -- our current president and son to the former president -- had decided Warlock had to be killed for his infractions against the club, I would be responsible for carrying out the sentence. I didn’t want to do that. It looked like El Diablo had forestalled anything in that regard, though I had no idea why. It was rare for anyone to leave the Iron Tzars. When they did, the situation was permanent. Warlock was only the second man I knew of not to die when he left or was asked to leave. Oh, well. Above my paygrade. I was just thankful I didn’t have to kill my brother.

A tap on my shoulder had my head whipping around. When I saw that same eerily lovely face I’d been trying not to think about right next to mine, I was so startled I jerked the wheel. The girl squealed and disappeared from my immediate vision.

“What the fuck?” The Bronco hit the rumble strips on the shoulder. My tires must have squealed, because several of the riders in front of us either glanced over their shoulder or turned their head slightly to look in their mirrors. They moved to the center lane in case I was out of control. When I slowed and pulled fully onto the shoulder, they followed.

I got as far over as I could but didn’t turn on my flashers. Though we weren’t hauling any contraband, I’d rather not enlist the help of a good Samaritan or, God forbid, the state police.

Once stopped, I put the thing in park and turned around. “What the everlasting, God forsaken fuck are you doing in my fuckin’ vehicle?” I growled at the girl but tried not to yell. I got the feeling she was fragile and, though I was angry, I didn’t want to scare her. As I spoke, the other one poked her head from behind the backseat in the cargo area. “Shoulda guessed. You two ain’t ever far apart.” There was a knock at my window, saving the girls from a lecture.

Instead of rolling down the window, I opened the door and stepped out. The two girls ducked back behind the seat, the first one having returned to what had probably been their hiding place in my fucking Bronco.

“You good?” Brick peered inside the vehicle, looking for a threat. His hand was on the gun at his hip, but he didn’t draw.

“Yeah. Just realized I had a couple of stowaways.”

Brick raised an eyebrow. Instead of explaining, I walked him around to the back and opened the tail door for him to see for himself. They were hiding behind cargo, but both of them poked their heads up when I opened the door so I could see their eyes and the top of their heads over their hiding place.

“Fuck.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “You two in trouble?”

One of them shook her head. The other girl shrank back.

“You know you can’t stay with us. We’ll have to take you back.”

“No.” The braver of the two shook her head. “We want to stay with you.”

“You afraid to go back?” Brick crossed big arms over his brawny chest. “They hurt you?”

Black Reign didn’t seem like the type of club to hurt women. They were protective as all get out of any of the women under their care, especially these two. The idea that any woman might be running from that club didn’t sit well with me, but the thought that either of these women had an issue with them made me want to drive back and beat the fuck out of someone.

“No,” she said in a soft voice. “It was time to leave.”

I looked at Brick. “We’re only an hour from home. We could let Black Reign know once we get back to the clubhouse.”

“Let me check with Sting. He may know something we don’t. If not, he’ll decide what to do.”

“Can we please stop at a gas station or something?” The braver one raised her head farther as she spoke. “It’s why I bothered you. We need a bathroom break.”

“You shoulda said something before now,” I groused. “We’ve been on the fuckin’ road for twelve fuckin’ hours! Stopped twice! Why didn’t you get out then?”

“We were afraid we wouldn’t be quick enough, and we’d get left behind.” Her voice was almost musical but soft. And it affected me like a gentle stroke down my chest headed straight to my cock. I needed to squash that feeling hard. This girl wasn’t up to taking me on, even if she’d wanted to.

I scrubbed a hand over my face. “I can’t fuckin’ believe this. Get your asses in the back seat and buckle up.” I thought they’d get out the back, but both of them climbed over the back seat and did as instructed.

“Jesus, Roman, could you sound any more like a fuckin’ old man?”

“Shut the fuck up, Brick.” Then I muttered under my breath. “Motherfucker.”

A couple miles down the road, Brick pulled the group over at a Buc-ee’s and everyone in the club surrounded the Bronco as the women got out. And they were women, not older girls like I’d first thought. The shy one shrank behind her sister when the men crowded around them both. We didn’t get into their personal space, but it was something that would have probably freaked any woman out.

“Jesus, guys, back off ‘em!” Iris, Sting’s ol’ lady, was going to be a great match for our president. “Are you trying to frighten them to death?”

Sting chuckled, watching as his woman went to my stowaways. “Better do what she says, boys. She’s a force of nature when she wants to be.”

Naturally, we didn’t need Sting’s OK to back off. The girls looked terrified. The braver one had a determined look on her face as she lifted her chin. “We’re not fragile. There’re a lot of you. And you’re all big.”

“Of course, you’re not fragile.” Iris took her hand and reached for the other one. “Everyone, this is Winter. Her sister here is Serelda.”

“You know them well, baby?” Sting stood close to his woman, but not close enough to spook the other two.

“No. But I’m looking forward to getting to know them.”

The author on…




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