Friday, December 20, 2024

Now Available ~ Head over Heels #NewRelease #Discount at @ChangelingPress

 


My new book is now available at Changeling Press, LLC



One blind date and I fall head over heels. Then he ghosts me, leaving me brokenhearted and pregnant.

Aaron: When I meet Genesis on a blind date I fall head over heels. She’s younger than me and I know I don’t deserve her, but I want to see her again. But before that can happen, I’m arrested, handcuffed, and imprisoned for something I didn’t do. Thinking about Genesis is the only thing that keeps me from going crazy—until I find out she might be the one who framed me.

Genesis: I hate blind dates, but I change my mind when Aaron shows up at my door. He’s perfect in every way and I’m smitten at first sight. I can’t wait to see him again, but then he ghosts me, and disappears off the face of the Earth. Everyone tells me to forget him, but it’s not that easy. I’m head over heels for him –- and pregnant with his baby.



You can get a copy with a #NewRelease #Discount
Head Over Heels is a story of love, betrayal, and lies. When Aaron is locked up for a crime he didn’t commit, love becomes a dangerous illusion.

Thursday, December 19, 2024

OUT NOW—The Daughter of the Veil by Brittany Johnston (@PublishConquest @Liter8ure) #pnr

 


Blurb:

 

When love is attached to violence, there is nothing but shame until the feeling of love disappears altogether…

A Power

In a land divided between Fae and humans, an ancient wickedness threatens to plunge the world into chaos. Only Erissa Nierling—one blessed with the powers of the Creator and able to see the souls fated to pass into the Veil—will tip the balance. But magic is outlawed in the city of Emberhold, and Erissa knows nothing of her birthright after a lifetime of being locked behind the spelled gates of her father’s keep. When she finally escapes and runs into the blacksmith, Rhazien, he helps her flee the city, triggering a prophecy that reignites a long-dead war between the gods.

 

A Secret

Now hunted by Fae and humans alike, Erissa and Rhazien must avoid those seeking to claim her magic. But the world is much larger than Erissa thought. A disembodied soul keeps appearing with warnings, and Rhazien is hiding something, testing the bond of their relationship.

 

A Choice

As an ancient wickedness closes in, the Keeper of the Veil will stop at nothing to claim her magic. With Rhazien’s life on the line, dark truths force Erissa to make a damning choice, for what comes next will redefine realms even if it costs her very soul and the freedom she has always desired.

 

Available from:

 

Barnes & Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-daughter-of-the-veil-brittany-johnston/1146352799?ean=9781962739337

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0DHV5BVN2

 

Excerpt:

Nothing prepared Erissa for the pain burning from her back to her legs as Rhazien pushed them along like a man possessed. Her chest burned against the exertion, her ragged breaths puffing in the air. She massaged her chest, kneading the tight skin.

They had doubled back after packing their supplies, taking advantage of the freshwater flowing from the creek and following an old deer trail along the winding path of the bank.

The five days passed quickly. Rhazien refused to rest while light still illuminated the path before them. He told her stories from his childhood to distract her from the brutal pace.

The one-sided conversations were appreciated. Years had passed without constant companionship, and Erissa found herself at a loss for how to contribute when her own stories held such a bleak reality. But there was more to it than that.

Rhazien filled in the quiet moments, which helped the time pass faster, but spending over a decade alone had her nerves on edge. Even if she did want to share her stories, the thought left her exhausted.

When they did stop for the night, she barely kept her eyes open as Rhazien set up camp, having fallen asleep the previous night before the fire had even been lit. She believed traveling would get easier as she became more accustomed to its physicality after years of confinement, but the horses bellied the misconception. Each horse chafed against the brutal pace. It prompted their riders to walk rather than sit astride.

Something about the woods had changed since the morning Erissa spoke with Reeva, turning the haven into something less trustworthy. The palpable difference must have fanned the flames of Rhazien’s unease as he searched for threats around every tree.

Even Rhyn and Crezzi sensed something was different. She expected them to be more relaxed with the break from carrying her and Rhazien. The horses grated against their bits, remaining quiet and tense, with Rhazien leading them both as he stomped ahead.

Erissa’s attention turned from the uncertain wood as her breath came in ragged gasps. “Rhazien… I can’t… keep going.”



About the Author

Brittany Johnston is a writer, editor, and professor living along the North Carolina coastline with her fiancé, two children, and one incredibly spoiled pittie, Hendrick. She considers herself a professional student after getting graduate degrees in English and Creative Writing, and she is currently working on her doctorate in English Literature where she advocates for the agency readers find in dark romance and the need to redefine romance as a genre to encompass all the various and beautiful ways that people experience love.

Brittany's writing contains plot, spice, and everything morally gray. She writes epic fantasy with romance for readers who want to go on a journey with hauntingly flawed characters and spicy scenes that off a side of magic and darker elements that take readers to places they wouldn't quite expect. If life has taught her anything, it's that people are morally gray in the most fascinating ways, herself included. Being able to explore this peels back the layers everyone has and shows all that humanity has to offer.

When she’s not working, Brittany can be found with her family and friends playing Dungeons and Dragons or World of WarCraft, painting mini figurines for their family game nights, reading, or cooking up something in the kitchen.

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/liter8ure

Twitter: https://twitter.com/liter8ure

TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@liter8ure

Threads: https://www.threads.net/@liter8ure

 


Release blitz organised by Writer Marketing Services.

Wednesday, December 18, 2024

Preorder Blitz! PARSON by J. Hali Steele #MCromance @ChangelingPress

 

(Scorned Devils MC 3)


MC Romance

Date Published: December 20, 2024

Publisher: Changeling Press


 

Building a hundred walls will not prevent Parson ripping away each brick to get to the man who is his.

Parson: Raised in a religious family who accepted Parson’s homosexuality, he struggles to understand Langston Gillman’s inability to embrace who he is, what he feels. Pars put off patching with the Scorned Devils MC in fear of losing his lover. Never again. Parson will patch with the club and he means to have the man he desires. Pars vows to pursue Lang until he stands vulnerable and ready to surrender.

Langston: Bullied as a child, Langston has reached the age of fifty-two loathing his gayness. He navigates life by planning every moment of each day. Still, occasionally he is unable to rid himself of his need for a man. Unfortunately, Lang desires bad boys. When one particular bad boy rides into his life on a Harley, his presence leaves Lang confused and angry. Langston finds himself yearning for more with Parson. Problem is the biker not only refuses to cut ties with Scorned Devils, the local MC, he will not be hidden by Langston.

Rules are made to be broken, and Parson will not live his life in denial. He intends to turn Lang’s world upside down, no matter the consequences.


Excerpt

Copyright ©2024 J. Hali Steele

 

Parson

 

Calmness was the keystone of Parson's life.

Today he sat beside his cousin, Mark, in a pew near the back of The Church of the Trinity Episcopal church, praying to find rekindle that trait. "I'm not asking for confession, and I don't need a priest."

Mark Turner was a deacon and while he could hear confession, only the priest could give absolution. Parson didn't need that. "I'm not seeking the sacrament, because I've not done anything I regret."

The deaths of the Bayside Specter president and VP had been a necessity, a matter of survival, and Pars experienced no remorse over the sordid affair.

"Good, because Father Tyson is preparing for Sunday service." Mark stared. "What do you want, Randall? Sorry, you prefer Parson."

"Right. Nothing, man. I'm torn about the relationship I'm in. Or was in."

"You're not living with -- what's his name, Langston? -- anymore?"

"No." Pars had done the one thing Langston Gillman would never accept. "He's being unreasonable."

"Have you spoke truthfully with him regarding your feelings?"

Mark was aware -- hell, the whole family knew -- Parson was openly gay. None held his relationships as a sin, believing his love life was between him and God.

"Does he know you love him?"

"No." Parson twisted on the hard bench to better see Mark. "What makes you say that?"

"Lord help me. You're thirty-one and you've never been in a relationship this long. What else could it be?"

Parson ignored Mark's comment because, damn, Parson hadn't thought about that. Yeah, he cared greatly for Lang, but love? "He kicked me out."

"Let me guess -- because you belong to the motorcycle club that runs around, or as some believe, runs, the city of Coatesville."

"He doesn't like that I'm a member of the Scorned Devils MC, but I can't allow him to dictate who I can hang out and be friends with. Because of his feelings, I put off patching." Parson picked at his fingernails. "Done playing games. I am who I am. Patched last week."

"I see."

Sunday parishioners started entering. Parson still needed to see Dread and talk about meeting with the city officials at Cutters tomorrow regarding plans for the Christmas toy drive. "Hey, thanks for letting me vent."

"Wish you weren't an only child." Mark sighed. "Not sure I was much help, but if you ever need to talk to someone aside from..."

"They're my brothers, Mark. They'd never see harm come to me."

"That's what concerns me. What lengths would your brothers go to in keeping you safe? I'm not blind to what happens with motorcycle clubs, Pars." Mark stood. "I've heard about unsavoriness taking place in our community."

Talk of the Specters' bikes being destroyed at the Midway and rumors behind the incident had finally died down. There were other disputes, and if the perpetrators were wrong, yeah, they got beat down. Without knowing what his cousin might have heard, Parson couldn't claim all the stories were lies. He wasn't going to get in to it now. Glancing down at his watch, Parson headed for the door. "Damn, Mark, I gotta run."

When Parson reached Hell's Lair, the gate sprung open immediately. Damn Spinner, anyway. He was always on the computer, watching the comings and goings of everyone. Shit, it was Spin's turn to keep an eye out for unusual activity around the Scorned Devils MC compound. Spin hadn't come back to his place last night which, meant he'd camped out in the loft. As annoying as Spinner could be, he kept Parson's thoughts from drifting to Langston.

Parson spied Dread with his feet propped on the desk as he entered the office. "Hey, man. What's up?"

"Nothing much." Dread scrutinized Parson. "You're early for a Sunday."

Pars usually hit the clubhouse after church. Today, he'd skipped services. "I was hoping to talk to you before you got busy." Sitting across from Dread, he sighed loudly. "Is there another place we can hold meetings with the city council?"

"For years those fuckers have let us do the all the organizing for this event. Mostly they sit at meetings pretending they want to be there. They take credit at the end of the parade when all we get to say is -- Santa Claus has come to town." Dread studied Pars. "Hey, it's for the less fortunate children. Shit, we're the local MC some of those same members would like to see disappear. Don't really want them in my restaurant unless they're paying customers, but it is what it is, Pars. Sure as hell not having them here if that's what you're insinuating."

"Wouldn't expect that, but there are other places in town."

"None I want to be involved with."

"Look, Dread, Cutters is..."

"Langston is off on Sundays and Mondays. You won't have to deal with any shit."

Parson's chest deflated when he relaxed against the chair back. He wasn't sure Dread noticed. "Great."

Standing, the VP walked to the office door and closed it. "No need for everyone to hear your business."

Fuck, Pars was going to get an earful.

"I don't know what happened and I don't really give a damn. I know Langston's been a prick this last month." He stood right in front of Pars. "I see the fire in your eyes but I'm not the one you want to go toe to toe with today, or any day, about me calling a prick a prick. He's been hell to deal with." Backing up a step, he glared. "Fuck Langston. Or don't. Whatever you choose, straighten your shit out because not every meet will be held on Monday. We have to consider the needs of a lot of people. If you can't handle this, let me know now."

"I got this."

"Perfect."

Pars got up to leave but Dread stopped him. "Another MC is joining us. They don't have a drive where they are."

"Who?"

"The Immoral Sinners out of Harrisburg."

"Don't know any of them well, but I do hear they are unruly as hell."

"Yeah, I know. They're small, but troublesome."

 

About the Author

Growl and roar -- it's okay to let the beast out. -- J. Hali Steele

J. Hali Steele wishes she could grow fur, wings, or fangs, so she can stay warm, fly, or just plain bite the crap out of… Well, she can’t do those things but she wishes she could!

J. Hali's a multi-published Amazon bestselling author of Romance in Paranormal, Fantasy, and Contemporary worlds which include ReligErotica and LGBTQ stories where humans, vampyres, shapeshifters and angels collide -- and they collide a lot! When J. Hali’s not writing or reading, she can be found snuggled in front of the TV with a cat in her lap, and a cup of coffee.

 

Author on Instagram/Facebook: @jhalisteele

 

Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok: @changelingpress

 

Pre-Order Today



RABT Book Tours & PR

Tuesday, December 17, 2024

Teaser Tuesday! Heart of a Hero by Harley Wylde #MCromance #Firefighters @changelingpress


Swift Angels MC (#1)


Motorcycle Club Romance, Firefighters, Slow Burn

Date Published: December 20, 2024

Publisher: Changeling Press


 

 

The unexpected twists and turns in life often lead to the most beautiful surprises.

 

Nora: If there’s anything I’ve learned, it’s that life never goes according to plan. But having my apartment burn down was certainly not on my to-do list. Being trapped with my daughter, the flames drawing closer, was the most terrifying thing I’d ever experienced. Until the sexiest firefighter I’ve ever seen came swinging through my window and saved us.

I should have known our heroic rescuer wouldn’t just sit back and do nothing when he heard we had nowhere else to go. So now we’re staying with him, and the more I learn about Dawson Kane, the harder I start to fall for him. But what if he breaks my heart just like all the others?

Dawson: Growing up as the son of a Dixie Reaper, I’ve seen so many couples come together, having fallen in love at first sight. Never thought it would happen to me. Now that it has, I’m going to hold onto Nora and her daughter Taylor with everything I have. Even finding out she’s three months pregnant isn’t enough to scare me off. Her ex causing trouble doesn’t either. I’m going to prove to her she’s worth fighting for.

Now I just have to confess to my dad that I not only helped start my own motorcycle club, but I’m the VP. The holidays are supposed to be the time for miracles, and I’m going to need several! One to ensure my dad doesn’t kill me when he finds out what I’ve been hiding from him, another to make Nora stay with me forever, and the last one to get rid of her psycho ex once and for all.

 

Uncover a tale of love that defies the odds in “Heart of a Hero,” perfect for fans of romance with a touch of danger.

 


Excerpt

Copyright ©2024 Harley Wylde

 

Dawson

The alarm blared through the station, jolting me into action. “Apartment fire on 5th and Maple!” someone shouted. My heart pounded as I threw on my bunker gear, the heavy coat and pants weighing me down but also steeling my resolve. I joined my team as we raced to the fire truck, sirens already wailing.

As we sped through the city streets, I tried to calm my nerves and focus. Flames. Smoke. People trapped. This is what I trained for. What I lived for.

We screeched to a halt outside the burning apartment building, flames licking out the windows and thick black smoke billowing into the sky. My eyes watered from the acrid stench as I leaped out and assessed the inferno before me. It was worse than I thought. The fire had engulfed the entire building, all the way to the top floors, orange tongues of flame bursting through some of the top floor windows.

The captain walked off to assess the situation and I stared at the building in horror. Evan came up beside me letting out a long whistle. “Damn. Think someone’s Christmas lights caused this?”

I shrugged. This time of year, anything was possible. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

Cap came back and gave us our orders, and the crew got to work dousing the building. Another fire station responded, and soon we had two hoses trying to tame the flames. I wasn’t sure it was going to be enough.

Captain Briggs came over a few minutes later, his face grim. He pointed up, and I followed to a window on the top floor. “Dawson, we got a woman trapped on the eighth floor.”

My blood ran cold. “I’ll get her, Cap. Just get the ladder truck in place and --”

“No can do.” Briggs shook his head firmly. “The fire’s too intense. The building’s not stable, and the flames will weaken the ladder. No way to reach her.”

“Cap, we can’t just leave her!” I clenched my fists, my mind racing for a solution.

“Nothing we can do, son.” Briggs put a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry. Sometimes, we lose people. You know this already. It’s part of the job.”

I shrugged him off, still staring at the raging flames. Like hell was I giving up on her. Not while there was still a chance. I scanned the adjacent building, an idea starting to form. It was risky as all get-out but it just might work.

The roar of the inferno faded as determination flooded through me. I knew what I had to do. I turned to Briggs, my voice low and urgent.

“I’ve got a plan, Cap. Trust me.”

Briggs narrowed his eyes at me, suspicion etched on his face. “What are you thinking, Dawson?”

I pointed to the adjacent building. “I can get to the roof from there, rappel down to her window, and bring her back up.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Briggs barked, his face turning red. “That’s suicide! I order you to keep your ass on the ground, Kane.”

But I was already moving, sprinting toward the neighboring building. Briggs shouted after me, but his words were lost in the chaos. I knew he was just trying to protect me, but I couldn’t stand by and do nothing. Not when a life hung in the balance.

I burst through the door of the adjacent building, my heart pounding in my chest. The stairwell stretched before me, a daunting climb to the top. But I didn’t hesitate, taking the steps two at a time, my bunker gear weighing me down.

Sweat poured down my face, my lungs burning with each breath. But I pushed through the pain, focusing on the task at hand. I had to reach the roof. I had to save her.

I reached the top floor, slamming through the door to the roof. The cool night air hit my face, a stark contrast to the heat of the stairwell. I rushed to the edge, my eyes scanning the burning building before me.

There, on the eighth floor, a window illuminated by the dancing flames. A woman leaned out the window, screaming for help. A little girl clung to her. My heart clenched at the sight.

I knew I didn’t have much time. The building could go at any moment.

I stepped back from the edge, my mind racing. The gap between the buildings was wide, the flames licking at the sides of the apartment complex. One wrong move, and it was all over.

But I couldn’t let fear take hold. This was what I was meant to do. Even if this next shift was my last, it didn’t matter. Every life I saved made it all worthwhile.

I closed my eyes, taking a deep breath. The heat of the fire was palpable even from this distance. I forced myself to focus, to draw on every ounce of training and experience I had.

“You can do this, Dawson,” I whispered to myself, my voice barely audible over the roar of the flames. “You were born for this.”

I opened my eyes, my gaze locked on the window across the way. The woman and child were still there, the woman’s movements growing more desperate by the second.

My heart pounded in my chest, adrenaline coursing through my veins. I knew what I had to do.

I took a step back, my muscles coiled like a spring. The weight of my gear seemed to fall away, my mind crystal clear. I could almost feel the presence of my team below, their silent support giving me strength. Except the captain, who looked ready to murder me for defying his orders.

“Hang on,” I whispered, as if the woman could hear me. “I’m coming.”

And with that, I took a running start, my feet pounding against the rooftop. The edge rushed toward me, the gap between the buildings yawning wide.

But I didn’t hesitate. I pushed off with all my might, my body arcing through the air. For a moment, time seemed to stand still, the world falling away beneath me.

And then I was flying; the wind whipped past my face, and the flames reached up to meet me. My heart was in my throat, and my pulse pounded in my ears.

I didn’t look down. I kept my eyes on the prize, on the window growing larger with each passing second. I could see the woman’s face now, her features etched with fear and desperation.

I braced myself for impact, my body tensing as I prepared to land. The heat of the fire was overwhelming, and if it hadn’t been for my gear, I knew the smoke would have choked my lungs.

I landed on the opposite rooftop, rolling with the impact. One of my firefighter brothers was on the rooftop behind me, the one I’d just vacated. He held up a coil of rope and I nodded. I’d been so focused on reaching the woman and kid, I hadn’t even thought to grab anything. I’d have figured it out once I got there.

Evan ran toward the ledge, much like I had to just done, then he was airborne. He landed a little more gracefully than I had, then found a place to tie off the rope.

“I’m going to rappel down to the window,” I said.

Evan looked around. “Better hurry. This building isn’t going to stand much longer, and the flames will probably eat through the rope pretty quick.”

I nodded and braced my feet on the ledge of the building, my hand gripping the rope. It seemed to be holding, so I started my descent. The window came into view, and I swung through the opening.

The woman and her daughter were huddled in the corner, their faces streaked with soot and tears. The fire had already eaten through their door and was fast approaching.

“It’s okay,” I said, my voice steady. “I’m here to help.”

And as I gathered the little girl in my arms, then secured her to my back, I knew this was my calling… the one thing I was meant to do. I used the rope to climb back to the rooftop and handed the little girl off to Evan.

“Where’s the woman?” he asked.

“I’m going back for her. Get the girl out of here.”

Evan shook his head. “Not leaving you behind.”

I didn’t argue with him. Didn’t have the time to do so. I went back down and through the window again, this time getting the woman out of the burning building. The flames had already traveled across the carpeted floor and I knew even a second later, they’d have been blistering her skin. As it was, she might very well have burns from the heat.

The flames licked at us as I shielded the woman with my body. I went back up the rope, and as I looked up, I saw Evan’s frantic expression. That’s when I noticed the fire already trying to eat through the rope. It wasn’t going to hold. Making a drastic decision, I climbed faster, and when I thought I was close enough, I grabbed the woman’s arm.

“I need you to let go,” I shouted over the raging fire.

She shook her head. “No.”

“I’m going to toss you up to him. This rope is about to burn through.”

Her eyes widened, and her grip loosened enough for me to put my plan into action. I wrapped the rope around my leg and used my other to secure my hold. Keeping one hand on the top of the rope, I swung the woman up toward Evan.

He leaned over the rooftop, his fingers grasping at her hand. Once he’d grabbed hold, I let go of her. I watched as he pulled her onto the rooftop, and then I looked at where the flames were eating through the rope already.

Time was up.

I kicked the rope free of my feet, holding it in both hands now. Then I walked sideways to my left a few steps. Calculating the distance between my current location and the nearest window at the next building, I decided it was now or never. I ran, my feet pushing against the building until I reached the end, and then I was soaring through the air. The building was within reach, when the rope snapped.

My heart pounded in my chest, and I heard a roaring in my ears, as I started to fall. Thanks to my momentum and mass, I had just enough of an arced trajectory that I managed to grab hold of a windowsill on my way down. My shoulder screamed at me, and I grabbed hold of the bricks with my other hand.

Just as my grip was starting to slip, the window jerked up and another firefighter looked down at me.

“You going to hang out all day, or come inside?” He smirked.

“Fuck you. Get me the hell inside the building.”

He helped me over the windowsill and into what appeared to be someone’s bedroom. “We vacated this building and the one on the other side of the inferno. Not taking chances of a spark catching.”

“Good. Now let’s get down to the ground so the captain can chew my ass out.”

He snorted. “Damn right he will!”

In the stairway, I spotted Evan with the woman and child. Their faces were streaked with soot, but at least they were alive. I straightened, the weight of what we’d just accomplished hitting me like a ton of bricks. Everyone else had given up on them. If I hadn’t ignored the captain, these two would be dead right now.

 

About the Author

Harley Wylde is an accomplished author known for her captivating MC Romances. With an unwavering commitment to sensual storytelling, Wylde immerses her readers in an exciting world of fierce men and irresistible women. Her works exude passion, danger, and gritty realism, while still managing to end on a satisfying note each time.

When not crafting her tales, Wylde spends her time brainstorming new plotlines, indulging in a hot cup of Starbucks, or delving into a good book. She has a particular affinity for supernatural horror literature and movies. Visit Wylde's website to learn more about her works and upcoming events, and don't forget to sign up for her newsletter to receive exclusive discounts and other exciting perks.

 

Author on Facebook, Instagram, & TikTok: @harleywylde

 

Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok: @changelingpress

 

Pre-Order Today



RABT Book Tours & PR

Sunday, December 15, 2024

Logic's Dictate by Steve Gibson #ScienceFiction


Science Fiction

Date Published: December 15, 2024


 

In a galaxy far from Earth, the advanced civilization of Merk extends a rare invitation to join their peaceful galactic continuum to worlds demonstrating true maturity. With Earth on the brink of a monumental transformation, all eyes are on presidential candidate Andy Brock, whose visionary policies promise unity and progress.

Earth has already made significant strides: the Koreas have united, NATO has dissolved following Russia's peaceful democratization, and the world stands on the cusp of unprecedented harmony. Yet, China remains a looming threat, with ambitions to seize Taiwan and a war with the U.S. on the horizon.

Amidst this turmoil, Rein, the leader of the Merkian delegation studying Earth, must decide if humanity is ready to join the Merk galactic community. However, her complicated feelings for Andy could either symbolize a potential new era of interstellar cooperation with Earth, or bring the whole mission to a grinding halt.

Through political trials, assassination attempts, and opposition from traditionalists, the path is fraught with challenges. Will the impending conflict with China derail Earth’s chance at interstellar peace? Can Andy Brock ascend to the presidency and implement his transformative vision for a brighter future?


About the Author

Contact Links

Website

Facebook

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YouTube

Threads

 

Purchase Link

Amazon


RABT Book Tours & PR

Friday, December 13, 2024

OUT NOW—When Christmas is Cancelled by Lucy Felthouse

 


When Christmas is Cancelled is the latest release from romance author, Lucy Felthouse. It is available in eBook and paperback from Amazon, and will be in Kindle Unlimited for 90 days only. After then it will come out of Kindle Unlimited and go onto other retailers, so if you wish to read it as part of your KU subscription, add it to your shelf ASAP.

 

Blurb:

When Rosie does a good deed on Christmas Day, she's not expecting to come face to face with her very own ghost of Christmas past.

Rosie Kilbride's festive plans are derailed when her mother calls on Christmas Eve to postpone their family get together due to illness. Left with a surplus of food and no one to eat it with, Rosie contacts Ingrid, a local café owner, to find out if she still needs volunteers for the charity Christmas meal she's organising. Ingrid jumps at the chance, and on Christmas morning Rosie heads out, anticipating a busy but pleasant day doing something nice for others, followed by a meal of leftovers with her fellow volunteers.

Unfortunately, on being introduced to the café's kitchen staff, she discovers the head chef is none other than Luke Adams, the man who broke her heart into a million tiny pieces ten years ago. And she's got to work with him. Despite her inner turmoil, there's no way she'll let Ingrid and the diners down, so she's determined to grin and bear it. It's just a few hours, after all.

When the day is almost done, tiredness and hunger kick in, and emotions start to run high. Can Rosie get away unscathed, or will she be forced to deal with Luke and all the feelings his presence has dredged up?

When Christmas is Cancelled is a standalone M/F steamy contemporary romance with second chance, age gap and BDSM themes.

 

Links:

Amazon/KU: https://books2read.com/wcic

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/218589869-when-christmas-is-cancelled

Add to BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/books/when-christmas-is-cancelled-a-m-f-steamy-contemporary-second-chance-romance-by-lucy-felthouse

 



 

Excerpt:

As was usual for their part of middle England, there was no white Christmas. Just a sky full of gloomy grey clouds, which were letting loose a weak, persistent drizzle. Preferable to p***ing it down, I suppose. She made her way into town, her mood lifting at the sight of the festive lights strung on the homes and businesses, the cheery decorations and Santa Stop Here signs stuck into people’s front lawns and flowerbeds. Excitement would no doubt be reigning in those homes, as young children pounced on their piles of presents and began an unwrapping frenzy, while exhausted, bemused parents clutched mugs of strong coffee and watched on from the sidelines.

Of course, not everyone was so fortunate, which was why Ingrid’s scheme was such a good one. A desperately needed one, in some cases. People ended up by themselves on Christmas Day for a multitude of reasons—she was a testament to that fact. Some might even prefer it. But for those who didn’t, those who would cherish—possibly even be desperate forthe company as much as the food, today’s event might well be the highlight of their festive season. The only bright spot in an otherwise dull, lonely few days.

She smiled. Her own Christmas plans might have gone t*ts up, but being even a tiny cog in a machine that would make a collection of deserving people happy was something to feel good about. She’d also been able to answer her mother’s anxious question about where she was going truthfully: “To Ingrid’s. She’s already got a big group in, so one more wasn’t a problem. Should be a damn good spread.”

She’d scurried off then, hoping if her mother’s virus-addled brain allowed her to actually remember what Ingrid had been doing on Christmas Day for the last few years—and she definitely knew, as she’d donated money each time—it’d be too late to pass comment.

Granted, she’d be helping to serve forty people their meals before getting so much as a crumb of a roast potato herself, but that was a small price to pay.

Conscious she was already a little behind schedule, thanks to her mother’s wittering, she put her right foot down a smidgen harder. Soon, she pulled up outside the front door of the café. The town, unsurprisingly, was completely deserted, so she didn’t worry about anyone complaining about her parking. It was only temporary, while she unloaded all her goodies. She gave a couple of light bips on her car horn before killing the engine, taking off her seatbelt and getting out of the vehicle. She closed the door, then zipped her coat and pulled up the hood against the cold and wet. By the time she was around at the boot, opening it to reveal tinfoil-covered trays and plastic containers galore, Ingrid appeared beside her, looking every inch the festive host, in her sparkling boots, glittery leggings, snowman-festooned knitted jumper, reindeer earrings, and headband with a sprig of mistletoe hanging off it.

“Morning,” Ingrid said with a warm smile, before wrapping her in a hug. “Merry Christmas. I’m really sorry about your mum and dad not being well, but I’m definitely not sorry you’re here. We were already stretched, and now one of my waitresses has phoned, saying she’s poorly and can’t come. So your extra pair of hands is very much needed—and appreciated.”

She returned her friend’s embrace, then let go and stepped back. “Merry Christmas, Ingrid. I’m glad to be here. Sorry I’m a bit late. I’ve just dropped some food parcels off at Mum and Dad’s, along with their presents, so they’re all set for a couple of days. Poor things are still feeling rough as anything. Food wise, whatever was left that I couldn’t safely freeze, or was way too much for me to eat alone over the next few days, I brought. So there’s a lovely joint of beef, potatoes, vegetables, a chocolate roulade, and a bunch of mince pies and jam tarts. The last three are homemade—not shop bought.”

Ingrid narrowed her eyes. “You made chocolate roulade, mince pies and jam tarts? You surely didn’t need all that just for the three of you? I know folks like to stuff their faces at Christmas, but come on…”

“All right, all right,” Rosie said with a laugh, holding her hands up. “You got me. I’d already started on the roulade when I got the call from my parents to say they were ill, and was going to make a batch of mince pies, since they’re my dad’s favourite. But in the disappointment of having my plans derailed, I drowned my sorrows in baking. Happy now?”

Ingrid responded by reaching into the car boot and scooping up two big containers. She licked her lips exaggeratedly and wiggled her eyebrows. “Bl**dy ecstatic. I love mince pies.” With that, she turned neatly on her heel and hurried inside.

Chuckling to herself, Rosie followed suit. The warm, cosy café was already a hive of activity with the tables being set, Christmas crackers added to each place setting, and people whizzing here, there and everywhere. The place had been decorated for the festive season to within an inch of its life since early December, but Rosie spotted at least a handful more decorations she didn’t recognise from when she’d popped in a couple of weeks earlier to drop off hers and her customers’ donations for the very meal she was now helping with—as well as treating herself to coffee and a slice of cake. She was normally a more regular patron, even if it was just a takeaway, but the run up to Christmas had been hectic in the shop, so she hadn’t had the chance to pop in.

“Leave them there, hon,” Ingrid said, pointing to the counter, where she’d already deposited the two boxes she’d carried in. “We’ll get everything in pronto, so you can park your car, then I’ll introduce you to everyone and get you all set up in your role for the day.”

“No worries,” she replied, setting her load down and following Ingrid back out the door to her car.

It wasn’t long before she slammed her boot closed and gave Ingrid a wave as she slid into the driver’s seat and drove to the car park at the end of the road. Her vehicle safely parked and securely locked, she hurried back to the café—picking up her pace and hunching deeper into her coat as the drizzle turned heavier.

She burst through the front door to the sound of Christmas music blaring out. Some of the other helpers were singing and dancing as they worked. It looked as though the party had already started—and the guests weren’t even expected to show up for another couple of hours.

“Ah, there you are,” Ingrid said, appearing from nowhere. “Let’s get your coat and bag hung up out the back. I thought given you enjoy baking, you’d be particularly useful in the kitchen, if that’s all right with you? Unless you’d prefer to be at front of house?”

“No, if you need me in the kitchen, I’m totally fine with that. Use me however you see fit.”

Her belongings stowed, and her own funky headband—a tiny, jaunty elf hat with an even tinier jingle bell affixed to its pointy end—settled in place, she straightened her oversized jumper, a knitted affair with gingerbread men and candy canes all over it, as she followed Ingrid. After being introduced to the wait staff she didn’t know—the others worked in the café normally, so they were already acquainted—she and Ingrid made their way towards the kitchen.

Ingrid pushed open the ‘in’ door to reveal a bunch of people already working hard, despite the fact there weren’t yet any diners. The clatter of trays, the rhythmic tapping of vegetables being chopped, and the whir of food processors filled the air—as did intense heat and the delicious scent of roasting meat.

“I’ve left the organisation in here entirely to my head chef for the day, since he knows what he’s doing. He’s the best there is. He works in some fancy place in the city, but somehow managed to wangle today off to help us out. Let’s go and introduce you, and he can decide where he needs you the most, okay?”

Rosie nodded, then tailed Ingrid as she made a bee-line for a man in a white chef’s jacket, and black and white checkered trousers. Rather than the tall, white hat one would usually expect a head chef to be wearing, he had on a Santa hat. He was tall, dark-haired, and had his broad back to them as he worked away at something on one of the stainless-steel surfaces.

“Hey, Chef,” Ingrid said as they drew close, “got your last pair of hands here. She’s good in the kitchen and ready to work.”

The man stopped what he was doing, wiped his hands on a tea towel and turned to them with a smile, which quickly faded as recognition kicked in.

“Rosie,” Ingrid said, indicating her head chef, “this is—”

“Luke Adams,” she interrupted, staring in disbelief at the man who’d broken her heart into a million pieces a decade ago. The very same heart which was now skipping like a rabbit on speed and sending heat rushing into her cheeks. F**k. Merry f**king Christmas to me.

*****

Author Bio:

Lucy Felthouse is the award-winning author of erotic romance novels Stately Pleasures (named in the top 5 of Cliterati.co.uk’s 100 Modern Erotic Classics That You’ve Never Heard Of), Eyes Wide Open (winner of the Love Romances Café’s Best Ménage Book 2015 award), The Persecution of the Wolves, Hiding in Plain Sight, Curve Appeal, Not That Kind of Witch and The Heiress’s Harem and The Dreadnoughts series. Including novels, short stories and novellas, she has over 175 publications to her name. Find out more about her and her writing at http://lucyfelthouse.co.uk/linktree 

 



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