Saturday, November 30, 2024

Vampire King's Consort by M.J. Sweets #Vampire #Romantasy

 

Dark Vampire Romantasy

Date Published: October 25, 2024


 

When forbidden love ignites, ancient rivalries threaten to consume them all…

 

With loved ones exiled to memory, the three species were left with strained relations and an ever-growing hatred. For over a century, Humans, Vampires, and Lycans remained isolated from one another. Only the occasional meeting of the three leaders brought any sort of interaction between the species. That was, until one night…

With the horrors of her past descending upon her, Livia finds herself face-to-face with the castle of the vampire king, Orion. Despite the king’s desire to rid his castle of this human intruder, something compels him to keep her close, no matter what. Unfortunately, whereas fate can bring two souls together, it can also force them apart, but a forbidden love will not be broken so easily.

Enter a world of passion and peril in this dark romantasy vampire series.

 

Bound by fate, torn by prejudice—can love bridge centuries of enmity? Get your copy of Vampire King’s Consort today and witness a love that challenges fate itself!

 

 About the Author

M.J. Sweets is an aspiring author that writes dark romantasy paranormal novels. At a young age she started her journey by filling notebooks with ideas and creating different worlds, leading all the way into her adult life. At first this was a hobby where she would decompress and relax but after many supporting figures in her life she gained the courage to put her work out there in the world.

 

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Wednesday, November 27, 2024

HUNGER by Carys Seraphine #DarkFantasy #Romance @changelingpress

 

(Winter's Call 2)

 

Dark Fantasy Romance

Date Published: November 29, 2024

Publisher: Changeling Press


 

One witch, one cop, and an insane vampire hell bent on destroying them all -- if the demons don’t get them first.

Dr. Adriana Hill’s life is thrown into a frightening whirlwind when she meets the twin sister she never knew she had. Swept into a fight ages in the making, she joins forces with her sister’s friends to stand against a vampire hell bent on destroying the one who made them all.

Detective Logan Greer is hunting down a killer who seems to be targeting anyone associated with the beautiful and enigmatic Dr. Hill. Things are not what they seem, though. He’s determined to protect the woman who’s stolen his heart, no matter the cost.

 

Excerpt

Copyright ©2024 Carys Seraphine

 

“Did you hear?”

Logan Greer looked up from the mountain of paperwork on his long-suffering desk. “Hear what?”

His friend and fellow detective, Jan Summers, leaned on the side of his desk, arms crossed while she peered at him like he’d missed something. Had he?

“They found another body.”

“Okay…”

“Believed to be connected to your case.”

Now she had his attention. “What? Not that friend of the doc’s, was it?”

“No, but close enough to her to make the higher-ups leery.”

Logan stood and grabbed his coat. “Where?”

Jan handed him a slip of paper with an address on it. “Apparently, it’s a block or so away from Dr. Hill’s office.”

He grabbed his keys and headed out, his mind going in half a million directions at once. Whatever was going on, he didn’t doubt it had something to do with Dr. Adriana Hill.

The drive to her office didn’t take long, even without a siren. He parked in front of the building and noted the metal detector just inside the door. Not many health providers stuck their necks out for vampires, and those who did put themselves at the wrong end of others who would rather the vamps die final deaths. Logan had no qualms with vamps as long as they left him alone.

He spotted a few department vehicles along the busy street and started down the sidewalk in that direction, needing answers before he went inside to break yet more bad news to the doc.

“Ah, there you are,” one of the techs said as Logan approached.

“What’ve you got?”

The tech finished removing his gloves and tossed them into a biowaste bin. “Well, believe it or not, a vamp.” At Logan’s raised eyebrow, the tech just nodded. “Young one, in vamp terms. I’d say about twenty-five, maybe thirty? Female.” He led Logan to a black body bag and unzipped it.

The resemblance to Dr. Hill unnerved Logan more than he cared to admit. “Cause of death?”

“That’s just it,” the tech said, zipping the bag up. “We don’t know. We’re gonna have Tox run some tests, though. She wasn’t drained or burned or decapped.”

Logan sighed. “Keep me updated, especially with whatever Tox finds. I need to go have a chat with Dr. Hill.”

“Dr. Adriana Hill? The vamp doc? Think she’s involved?”

“I think she may be a target,” Logan said. “Gut feeling. I’ll be in touch.”

Logan went back toward Dr. Hill’s office and stepped inside. He placed everything on the scanner table and nodded at the guard. The detector beeped, but given his profession, the guard just waved him by. Logan gathered his things and walked up to the receptionist’s desk.

“Hello, can I help you?”

He handed a business card to the young woman. “I need to speak with Dr. Hill, please.”

“Oh, yes, Detective. Please have a seat, and I’ll let her know.”

Logan sat in a nearby chair before giving the decent-sized waiting room a cursory glance. A few patients sat scattered around the room, most of them on their phones.

“Detective Greer?”

Logan looked up and couldn’t help but be taken aback by those mesmerizing dark emerald eyes. He stood and offered his hand, which she shook. “I apologize for this unannounced visit, Dr. Hill. Do you have a moment?”

Though she seemed a bit apprehensive, Dr. Hill gestured toward the hallway. “Of course, follow me.” Once inside her office, she shut the door and sat behind her desk. “There’s been another murder.”

Logan blinked. “How --”

“Rumors spread like wildfire in the vampire community, Detective. Several of my patients have mentioned it this evening.”

Logan sat down and tugged out a battered notepad and pen. “That makes sense. I imagine losing one of their own would get them talking about it amongst themselves. Did you know her?”

“Not personally. She was one of Edith’s patients, so I never saw her in that capacity. What happened?”

“Her body was found about a block from here, stuffed behind a dumpster like a ragdoll. No blood loss, no burns, no evidence of even attempted decapitation.” He glanced up at her. “Dr. Hill, the fact that she resembled you a great deal is of particular concern.”

Dr. Hill leaned back, her expression pensive. “You think someone mistook her for me?”

“It’s not a guarantee, but the thought crossed my mind. Despite being a patient of Edith Tanner’s, the victim bears an uncanny resemblance to you, and the murder took place within a block of your office. I asked you before if Dr. Tanner had any enemies.”

Dr. Hill nodded.

“Now I’m asking that of you. Is there anyone who would want to harm you?”

She sighed and stood. “What I am about to show you is confidential, you understand. Patient-doctor privilege, HIPAA, you know the drill.” She retrieved a folder from a filing cabinet and set it on the desk in front of him. “The majority of our files are digital now, in an EHR program. Only the oldest are still in paper format.”

He opened the folder. “A patient file?”

“Yes.” She sat down again and leaned back in her chair. “About ten years ago, I had a patient come in who had been bitten. He was angry and quite combative. He seemed to think I could fix him.”

“Fix him?” Logan asked as he studied the black-and-white photo in the top right corner, affixed to the patient information form with a paperclip.

“Stop him from becoming a vampire,” Dr. Hill said.

 

About the Author

Carys Seraphine is an alter ego of gay romance author Mychael Black and fantasy author Katherine Cook. Carys adores paranormal anything, be it ghosts, ghouls, or goblins. Okay… maybe not goblins. Not even Carys can make THEM sexy.

 

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Tuesday, November 26, 2024

Beneath the Skin by Mikala Ash #Steampunk #Romance @changelingpress

 

(Empire of the Sky 5)

 

Steampunk Romance

Date Published: 11/29/24

Publisher: Changeling Press


 

Soulmates? Or simply lovers? Selena and Nancy hope their paramours can see beneath the skin.

 

Selena Whiteheart has her hands full. The malignant witch, Lady Neva, has kidnapped her lovers, Jacob McCleary and Captain Kit Colby. While keeping her Home Office handler, Harry Kincaid, satisfied in every way, Selena vows to rescue them, but first she must contend with a mesmerised assassin.

Meanwhile Nancy Lea, envoy in human form of the goblin king, Mon Ilson, Emperor of Space, has failed in her bid to secure peace. Queen Victoria has sent her packing with a flea in her ear. With her lover and protector, Captain Jaimee Dalgliesh, she returns to the moon to report. With three days to kill, Nancy teaches Jaimee the joys of weightless lovemaking. However, Jaimee comes face to face with a real goblin. Can he overcome his visceral disgust and love the soul beneath Nancy's stolen skin?

The soul of Agent Felicity Cressy, murdered by Lady Neva, finds a safe haven in Nancy's mind. Will Mon Ilson return her to her body, and what does he expect in return?

 

Excerpt

Copyright ©2024 Mikala Ash

 

Selena Whiteheart

1867 -- A Vixen in the Mist

 

I am a duplicitous witch.

Like Janus, the mythological god of beginnings and endings, I present different faces to the world. I began as Marjorie Fletcher, a naïve country virgin murdered for my body by hideous goblins. My homeless soul found refuge in the mind of Cressida Troy, with whom I fell in love. Inevitably I also lost my heart to her fiancé, Jacob McCleary, and I experienced lovemaking for the first time through Cressida. Now, as Selena Whiteheart, human agent of Mon Ilson, the goblin king and self-styled Emperor of Space, and owner of the empire’s greatest airborne gambling and bawdy house, I love the handsome and brave Captain Kit Colby.

I stood at my fireplace staring at the likenesses of Jacob and Kit inside a gold locket. I’d drawn both myself, and think I captured their essential differences rather well. Jacob, the former schoolteacher, whose intelligent gaze signified his thoughtful and considerate nature both in and out of bed, had given me my first experience of lovemaking, albeit vicariously. He was now estranged from Cressida Troy after the murder of Fleur Cumberland, which I had orchestrated. Kit, on the other hand, was a lusty warrior, a decorated hero of the savage air war against Prussia and the Hungarian Empire. As befitting his martial nature, Kit was both forceful and deliberate in his lovemaking.

I was lost for a few moments in a warm memory of passionate kisses, entwined tongues, probing fingers and hard, thrusting cocks before a wave of fear coursed through me. Tears threatened to flow as I traced their images.

I was not alone in my office. I was dimly aware of the earnest little man jabbering about an invention of his. I didn’t care about Mr. Frasier. I was immersed in a sea of despair, and the peril my charade placed not just Jacob and Kit in, but me also.

Both Jacob and Kit were captives of Lady Neva Talbot-Rhys, a powerful witch hell-bent on killing Queen Victoria. Lady Neva held the Queen responsible for her lover’s death during England’s devastating military reprisal against Prussia. I understood her wanting revenge. I felt the same about her.

I had to get them back. Lady Neva was a merciless malevolent maniac, capable of wholesale slaughter -- I’d witnessed that firsthand. My heart chilled at the thought of what horrors Jacob and Kit were suffering at her evil hands.

I wanted desperately to believe they still lived. Why else would Lady Neva kidnap them but to use them for some nefarious purpose?

Jacob had been sent by Mon Ilson to add weight to his envoy Nancy Lea’s mission to arrange a demonstration of his ultimate weapon. Lady Neva had stumbled upon Jacob during her search for Kit, and being a skilled mind reader, she would have instantly known Jacob’s value. That would have been a surprise to her, no doubt. But she was not one to miss an opportunity to cause the Queen even greater problems. She had intended to kidnap Nancy Lea as well, but fortunately she had escaped. I believed Lady Neva had probably gone to Europe to sell Jacob’s knowledge to one of Britain’s host of enemies. If that was the case, then Mon Ilson’s carefully laid plans could be wrecked and chaos would ensue, resulting in the deaths of millions. Frustratingly, our overseas agents had not detected any sign of Lady Neva. She had disappeared like a vixen in the mist.

I shuddered and took in a ragged breath of despair at what she would do to Kit. Unlike Jacob, who had political value, poor Kit she could torture at her leisure. Kit had become the object of her revenge after thwarting her plan to use the Prince of Wales to kill the Queen.

For the time being, as Selena Whiteheart, I do the bidding of the goblin king, the most powerful witch in history. For the moment our goals aligned. He too wanted Lady Neva found, for her determination to kill Queen Victoria threatened to derail his own plans of conquest.

My service to Mon Ilson requires a significant amount of time and energy, for I must hide my true intentions from him by burying them deep within my consciousness. I hate Mon Ilson. His goblins had murdered me, and then stolen my body from the grave. While I obeyed his commands, I secretly supported his overthrow by Cressida Troy, now his empress, another human with another name: Nil Ilson.

Cressida had saved my soul. Or rather my nascent magical abilities had led me to her, and her mind became my temporary safe haven. Then my magical powers were like a seed, waiting for water and heat. Unwittingly Mon Ilson supplied those himself, for when he read Cressida’s mind, he had detected me and recognised my potential as a servant. Like Pandora he opened the box of magic and let me absorb as much as I could hold.

To regain my body, I had enchanted both Cressida and Mon Ilson into believing they loved each other and convinced her to prove her loyalty to him so he would return my soul to my body. As my puppet, Cressida killed the most powerful human witch, Fleur Cumberland. Mon Ilson repaid me by returning my soul to my body and sending me to Earth to prepare the way for his conquest. I had confessed my perfidy to Cressida, hoping she would work with me to resist him. Cressida married Mon Ilson, and adopted the name Nil Ilson, and the title Empress of Space.

Mon Ilson’s plan to overthrow the British Empire required the co-opting of Queen Victoria. He meant to use the vast infrastructure of her empire to take over the world with hardly a fight. So, for the time being I’d be his enthusiastic cat’s paw until I could help Nil Ilson, Cressida, defeat him.

But first I have to find Jacob and Kit.

“Ahem. Er. Miss Whiteheart?”

The clearing throat and hesitant voice reminded me of Mr. Frasier’s presence. I closed the locket and turned to face the untidily dressed, red-haired little man. Before I’d lost myself in my own thoughts, he’d been enthusiastically engaged in a technical monologue about his new invention.

“I’m so sorry,” I said, returning the locket to my bosom. “Pray continue.”

He cleared his throat again, and after taking a deep breath began to list the benefits of his new gadget, a tamperproof roulette wheel.

“It will kill any accusation of fraudulence,” he had begun.

As if the honesty of my tables had ever been in question. The idea that I would be accused of cheating was insulting, but I continued to listen with feigned interest.

His name was David Frasier, a middle-aged inventor and factory owner from Edinburgh. He’d been introduced to me by Special Branch agent and my latest lover, Harry Kincaid. After making the introductions, Harry had excused himself, saying he had to send a message to his club.

That was a lie. The murky shade of Harry’s aura had given him away. I knew he was listening at the door. He’d asked me to be nice to Frasier as he was trying to recruit him as a spy. He visited the continent often, doing business with some prominent politicians and industrialists. The introduction to me would put Frasier in Harry’s debt.

It was for that reason I resigned myself to listen without objection to the fellow’s insulting proposition.

Frasier stopped in mid-sentence. He had been enthusiastically describing his contrivance, something to do with building a miniature mechanical computational device invented by Charles Babbage, when his face had become flushed, and beads of perspiration formed on his forehead. His hands started to tremble, and his final words ended in a slur. His aura had, in an instant, transformed into a seething pulsating muddy blob, the colours bubbling through each other in a roiling mass. A moment before it had been quite normal, nervous perhaps, and very excited, but that is not unusual in men meeting me for the first time, and after all, he was trying to make a sale. The transition had been so abrupt, so unnatural, I reached out to his mind to see the cause. I sensed despair, and most of all, mind-numbing fear. Hardly a coherent thought peeked through. The one that did was unmistakable.

“Mr. Frasier, don’t do this!” I put a suppression spell over him. “Whatever it is, I can help.”

 

About the Author

Aussie Mikala Ash used to be a mild-mannered training & development consultant by day, and a wild sci-fi and paranormal adventure writer by night. Now she is a brazen full-time writer and nature photographer who is concentrating on having among other things, “… bags, and bags of fun!” Mikala can be found on Facebook and on Twitter.

 

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Dance with Me on New Year's Eve by Alana Highbury #holiday #romance

 

Love & Holidays, Book 3

 

Romance, Holiday Romance

Date Published: November 26, 2024

 

 

Fans of You've Got Mail will love this sweet holiday romance from bestselling author Alana Highbury, featuring a twist on office romance, hidden identities, and enemies to lovers.

 

He's the last person she wants to see at work.

He's also the one person she can't wait to talk to every night.

 

Ruled by social anxiety, Roxy has felt lonely and self-conscious for as long as she can remember. Her stress and self-doubt multiply when she starts working more closely with her brusque colleague Jeff, who brings out the worst in her. To escape, she immerses herself in an online game-making community where she befriends an interesting guy with similar game-making goals.

Unbeknownst to her, this online friend is none other than Jeff. As their real-life interactions evolve from hostility to a tentative friendship, Roxy faces a dilemma: Can she reconcile her feelings for what she believes are two different men?

Battling her self-doubt and conflicting emotions, she must face the challenge of finding happiness, connection, and confidence in both her virtual and real worlds.

 

This is a sweet, closed-door romance with no explicit scenes and no swearing, but you'll see a lot of angst resulting from the heroine's mental health issues.


About the Author

Alana Highbury is the Amazon bestselling author of the holiday romances Meet Me on Christmas Eve, Snowed In on Valentine's Day, and Dance with Me on New Year's Eve. Her novels blend rom-com, contemporary romance, and women’s fiction, and she brings two decades of professional experience and a master’s in English. When not writing, she’s usually found reading, cross stitching, board gaming, or hanging out with her family, which includes a writerly husband, two children, two beautiful, lazy cats, and a feisty cockatiel.

 

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Monday, November 25, 2024

OUR GLOBAL CRISIS Brian D. McLean #NonFiction #ClimateChange #Giveaway

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This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The author will be awarding a $10 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.



Modern society has reached a critical juncture in its existence. Like past civilizations ours has reached a point where its future is far from certain, with its decline, or even collapse, being distinct possibilities.

The Incas, the Mayans, the Romans, the Rapanui, and many others, had seemingly successful societies, yet collapsed when faced with challenges that threatened their continued existence.

Are we to suffer the same fate? What could possibly cause our downfall?

Climate change and environmental issues? Perhaps. It is now almost a certainty that these events are destined to inflict catastrophic damage to our global society. Our coastal cities and island nations, as well as our global economy and agricultural output, will be irreparably damaged. Many of Earth's species, as well as the lives of many millions of people, will be displaced or lost forever.

Such a fate may still be averted, but that opportunity has largely passed. Even if we are able to correct the climatic and environmental issues threatening our society, we must still recognize and address the ultimate source of our problems. For if we fail, a far worse fate potentially awaits us.

Our Global Crisis is an eye opening look at the common weakness shared by societies and civilizations both past and present. But analysis of the problem alone will not solve the global crisis we now face. Thus, the final chapter is dedicated to the simple, yet critical solutions, necessary for our very survival.


Read an Excerpt

Humanity faces an uncertain future. For although we are the product of a great multitude of evolutionary “improvements,” we are nevertheless imperfect. Through the millennia, our shortcomings have contributed to the setbacks and failures of many peoples, cultures, even past civilizations, and they continue to do so. Even today, the future stability and continuance of our global socioeconomic society is not guaranteed. Climate change, environmental degradation, ongoing political and religious tension and violence, and other damaging and contentious issues not only have the potential to destabilize our global society, but if left uncorrected, may precipitate its eventual collapse. The most troubling aspect of this growing possibility is that each of us would ultimately be responsible for its occurrence.

Despite the advanced level of development attained by our species relative to others on Earth, inherent weaknesses in our nature still persist, and it is those weaknesses that each of us must overcome if we are to survive and evolve beyond our current limitations. If we can come to accept who we are and appreciate our weaknesses as well as our strengths, then we may be able to rise above our imperfections. In doing so, the possibility exists that our species may once again find its rightful place within nature and restore balance to the biosphere.

The purpose of Our Global Crisis is to guide us in this direction, to help us better understand who we are as a species, and to allow each of us to come to terms with our inner wants and desires, our strengths, and our weaknesses.

About the Author: Brian McLean, ART, is a former Medical Laboratory Technologist and Information Systems Specialist. Drawn by his passion for the outdoors, he shifted from a successful career to spend nearly two decades working for a family run orchard business. A passionate conservationist and environmentalist, Brian is also a keen observer of human nature and humanity's interaction with the biosphere. Based on those observations, he has been meticulously compiling and crafting Our Global Crisis over the last 22 years. Currently, he is working to restore riparian and temperate forest ecosystems affected by clearcut forestry practices, and when he needs to decompress, he spends time under the stars delving into his other passion, astrophotography.

Website: https://briandmclean.com
Amazon: https://amazon.com/dp/0993607225
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/walkingsoftlyinnature
Instagram: http://www.instagram.com/walkingsoftlyinnature
Goodreads: http://goodreads.com/briandmclean

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Men in Books Aren't Better by Amanda Nelson and Lisa-Marie Potter #contemporary #romance #giveaway


Contemporary Romance

Date Published: November 25, 2024

Publisher: The Wild Rose Press


 

Pressured by her looming deadline and an unfinished romance manuscript, author Molly Covington applies her immersive research skills and goes all in. She hires a male companion for inspiration during three days of research in Las Vegas.

Enter sexy, confident Jared Washington—an extreme sports enthusiast and relationship skeptic who moonlights as a Plus One male companion. Molly’s contract puts him within arm’s reach of buying his own business and making his dreams come true.

The chemistry between her and Jared is surprisingly easy. Before their Vegas rendezvous comes to an end, one of them will need to lay all their cards on the table to discover if they’ll be lucky in love.


About the Author

Amanda and Lisa-Marie are a co-writing team of best friends who share imaginary worlds, including a short story, Shivers, published in Moments Between. Lisa Marie Potter (BIPOC) is a mom of four who grew up in Nottingham, England, and now resides in Alaska with her husband and golden retriever. Amanda Nelson grew up in Maryland and moved to Arizona, where she attended college and currently lives with her husband and four kids. Both women are members of the Author’s Guild and were part of a Manuscript Academy Podcast featuring their writing and critique group. They also review books on their socials, hike the Olympic National Park, and fight over the same fictional crushes.


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Thursday, November 21, 2024

MOLDAVIAN GAMBIT by Brad M. Meslin #Espionage #Terrorism


Spies & Politics, Espionage, Terrorism

 

A taut, fast-paced, geopolitical techno-thriller set in the dying days of the Soviet Union.  The Moldavia Gambit will appeal to lovers of complex espionage, terrorism and political thrillers by authors like Tom Clancy, Daniel Silva and Mark Greaney.

Inspired by actual events and filled with authentic technical detail, the gripping tale races between Moscow, Moldavia, Paris, Washington, the skies over Eastern Europe, and geostationary orbit 22,000 miles above the Earth.

 

 


About the Author

Brad Meslin has spent more than 35 years working at the intersection of the aerospace and defense industry, private equity and national security.

Meslin founded and manages a leading advisory firm that performs diligence on aerospace, defense and government services contractors active in the defense, space, aviation and intelligence sectors in the United States, Europe, the Middle East and elsewhere.  Advising on hundreds of transactions over more than three decades, Meslin has gained a deep understanding of the national security programs and missions these companies support, and the capabilities and systems they help to develop and operate.

Dr. Meslin earned a Master’s degree in law and diplomacy and a Ph.D. from The Fletcher School at Tufts University, with a focus on international security.

 

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Wednesday, November 20, 2024

WILDCARD by Angela Knight #SciFi #Romance #BDSM @changelingpress

 

Sci-Fi Romance, BDSM

Date Published: November 22, 2024

 

 

 

Passion’s the pot when Rowan Kerr draws the Wildcard.

 

Though she lives in a world of Beyonce and iPhones, Indra Fox thinks she may be an alien. She’s too strong, too fast, and heals too quickly to be merely human. But she doesn’t know for sure, because her parents refused to tell her. Nor would they explain why she -- and her equally superhuman best friend, Diana Newman -- were raised to be warriors.

When their families are murdered, Indra and Diana seek revenge on their killers, Satan’s Horsemen. Then Diana is kidnapped, and Indra goes undercover at a strip club the gang owns to discover where her friend has been taken.

But when Rowan Kerr walks into the club, Indra realizes he’s even more powerful than she is. Rowan says he knows who she really is and what she was created to do, but she must go with him to learn the truth.

Indra will do anything to save Diana. Including embracing her destiny as something more than human.

Rowan thinks Indra could be the teammate -- and lover -- he dreams of. But she’s mad as hell about being kept in ignorance, and she’s convinced that she’s been betrayed by the woman he works for. What’s worse, she’s not wrong. Can he convince her to take a chance on him? And can Indra and Rowan defeat the very real aliens who are behind Diana’s abduction?

 

They’d better, or humanity will pay the price for their failure.

 

 

 



EXCERPT


Rowan

I eyed the long, low stucco building as I got out of the car.

Pink neon depicted the outline of a writhing nude woman with a tail and cat ears wrapped around a purple neon stripper pole. More neon read “Pole Katz Gentleman’s Club,” in red.

You sure this is the right address? I asked my computer implant.

Qubit’s silky female voice replied, Her nanos ping from this location, and have been doing so for five hours a night for thirty-eight days. There’s a 93.8 percent chance she’s working here.

Why? She sure doesn’t need the money. I frowned at the neon stripper. Has to be hunting.

Odds are running at 87.6, Qubit agreed.

Indra Fox was going to be about as happy to see me as a serial killer finding cops at the door. And for the same reason.

I headed for the purple awning over the club’s entrance. Even without enhanced senses, I’d have been able to hear the music -- Beyonce purring about getting frisky in a limo.

Qubit displayed results from sensor scans and web searches along the periphery of my visual field, flashing the club’s layout and the number of people inside -- one hundred and fifty-three patrons and staff. Of those, one hundred and fifty-two were Nats -- natural humans. There was only one who wasn’t. Indra Fox.

Double doors led into a narrow, black-walled foyer vibrating with music just short of deafening. To my left stood a cashier’s window where a bored-looking woman in a bare-midriff Pole Katz T manned a Square station. A sign over the window informed me of the twenty-dollar cover charge.

“Hi, there,” the cashier purred, giving me an approving once-over.

Pulling out my wallet, I peeled off a twenty and handed it over.

“Thanks,” she said. “Enjoy.”

“I’m sure I will.” I turned to find a narrow-eyed bouncer glowering by the curtained entry to the main room. He wore black chinos and a black T that said SECURITY in all caps. He looked the part, too -- six-foot-three, 232.8 pounds, per Qubit’s sensors -- with skin the color of teak, a shaved head, and full-sleeve tats on massive arms. Judging from his expression, he didn’t like the looks of me. Probably because big as he was, I was bigger. I suspected he was also trying to figure out if I was a cop. Or worse, if I’d get drunk and disorderly, and if he could handle me if I did.

Dude, you wouldn’t have a prayer.

“Don’t touch the girls,” he warned. “Be a gentleman.”

“I’m never anything but.”

He looked dubious, but I gave him a twenty-dollar tip, and he relaxed as if reassured. Which might be a bit premature, depending on what happened with Fox.

I stepped past him through the curtained doorway into an eye-searing storm of thumping music and colored light. The club’s dark walls were covered with neon silhouettes of women in erotic poses, and the floor was scuffed dark wood. A curving translucent bar glowed to the right, edged in yet more neon.

You need to buy a drink first, Qubit told me. There’s an etiquette to patronizing these places, and you don’t want to draw attention.

Yeah, I’d hate to be conspicuous. I was six and a half feet tall. Conspicuous was pretty much baked into the cake. Snorting, I headed to the bar to collect an overpriced Scotch, then turned to work my way through the crowd as Qubit scanned for our target.

The focus of the room was an oval stage with a pair of sturdy chrome poles, a set of four steps at one end. A ring of plump chairs in red velvet surrounded it, occupied by rapt patrons. Additional groupings of chairs and tables clustered around that, mostly men, with a few couples scattered here and there.

A blonde Nat girl worked one of the poles to the cheers and hoots of the customers. I headed for the chairs around the stage.

If you sit there, you’ll be expected to tip every dancer, Qubit warned as I dropped into the sole unoccupied seat.

Money not being a problem -- one of the perks of working for Mama -- I shrugged. Fine. If Fox is dancing, I want to make eye contact. According to her file, the only one of us Indra had ever met was Diana Newman. I wanted to see how she’d react to me.

The blonde dancer bounced upward, grabbed the pole hand over hand and swung her way around it, arching her leanly muscled body into a seductive curve. She was down to a G-string and pasties, so she must be most of the way through her act.

I would have been interested, but I could smell her. Not that she smelled bad -- fresh sweat, some kind of floral shampoo and citrus body wash, a hint of mint from her mouthwash. But underneath that, she smelled Nat. So no, not my type, though she had the kind of lean grace you get from swinging around a pole for hours a day.

Frowning, I watched her spin and grind. Why hadn’t Mama ordered Indra Fox and Diana Newman picked up when their parents were murdered? Or if not then, once it became clear they were stalking the killers?

Instead, Mama had let the two run. Now Newman was offline too, and Fox was still killing assholes.

The blonde finished her routine. Absently, I held up a ten. The Nat sauntered over and knelt so I could tuck it into her G-string. Giving me a dazzling smile, she winked. “Want a lap dance?”

I smiled and shook my head. Looking disappointed, she stood and headed for the next bill. The guy who waved it looked a lot more enthusiastic.

This whole fucking thing is weird. Fox has capped four men in the past year. Why not pick her up before now? Mama doesn’t approve of merking people, even actual mercs.

It was a rhetorical question, but Qubit answered anyway. She didn’t share her reasoning.

There’s a shock.

Not that I was shedding any tears for Fox’s victims. According to the police files Qubit had hacked, they’d been members of Satan’s Horsemen, a mercenary gang suspected in a slew of illegal shit -- drug trafficking, prostitution, gun running, murder for hire. No wonder the cops didn’t care they’d ended up room temperature. Though judging by the crime scene pics, Fox’s temper was almost as nasty as mine.

The local po-po also suspected Pole Katz was run by the Horsemen, though a couple of raids had turned up jack in the way of evidence. All they’d managed to do was charge two girls with allowing a little too much groping during lap dances.

Any of the gang present?

 

 

About the Author

New York Times best-selling author Angela Knight has written and published more than sixty novels, novellas, and ebooks, including the Mageverse and Merlin’s Legacy series. With a career spanning more than two decades, Romantic Times Bookclub Magazine has awarded her their Career Achievement award in Paranormal Romance, as well as two Reviewers’ Choice awards for Best Erotic Romance and Best Werewolf Romance.

Angela is currently a writer, editor, and cover artist for Changeling Press LLC. She also teaches online writing courses. Besides her fiction work, Angela’s writing career includes a decade as an award-winning South Carolina newspaper reporter. She lives in South Carolina with her husband, Michael, a thirty-year police veteran and detective with a local police department.

 

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Tuesday, November 19, 2024

FALCON by Marteeka Karland #MCromance @changelingpress

 

Motorcycle Club Romance, Suspense, Age Gap

Date Published: November 22, 2024

 


It’s all fun and games until my ex shows up from the dead.

 

Gina: For over a year I’ve lived in fear, a monster terrorizing me within the gates of the Grim Road MC compound. The club took care of the physical problem, but demons still ride me hard. I’ve learned to trust the people I interact with on a daily basis, I’m still too anxious to explore the compound unless I’m with one of the old ladies or Lemon. Or Falcon… He always seems to be there when the fear threatens to swallow me whole. He’s protective and caring, and he takes me for rides on his Harley. Which he had painted pink because he found out I wanted to ride a pink bike. How many men in a motorcycle club did that?

Falcon: What happened to Gina at the hands Grim Road, myself included, is something that will haunt me for the rest of my life. My only chance at redemption is to help her heal and feel safe again. I’m too old for her, but I can’t seem to care. I want to protect her, but I’m watching her to an unhealthy degree, waiting for the times she needs someone to bring her back to reality and assure her she’s safe. Until the day she invites me inside her sanctuary without a chaperone. I’d never take advantage of Gina. Not intentionally. Then again, I never expected my ex fiancé to come back from the dead.

 



EXCERPT


Falcon

The soft cry coming from Gina’s bedroom window damned near broke my heart. She did fine most days, when she had the girls to distract her. But at night, when she was alone in that house, nightmares visited her regularly. Those nightmares were partly my fault and that was why I couldn’t let go of this need to see she was safe. Which is why I was currently sitting underneath her open window outside her house. At one in the morning.

Yeah. That wasn’t creepy or anything. Thank God she still stayed in the compound. I knew she wasn’t really comfortable here, but she had nowhere else to go. Though she typically stayed in her house or in the fenced-in backyard, she would very occasionally leave the compound to grocery shop or whatever. She never went anywhere inside the compound by herself other than to drive from her house to the main gate and back.

Another soft cry followed by a small sob echoed in the night. It was a scared, lonely sound, much like that of a child lost from its parents in a crowd. Among the myriad night noises in the wildlife reserve where our compound was nestled, she sounded like a caged animal too scared to fight.

With a shake of my head, I dug my phone out from my back pocket and moved away from the window slightly behind a shrub and called her. When I heard her phone play a trilling notification, I moved farther away so she couldn’t hear me speaking through her open window. She answered on the fourth ring.

“H-hello?”

“Hey, Gina. I hope I didn’t wake you up.”

“I -- no. You didn’t. Falcon?”

“Yeah. Probably shoulda led with that, huh?” I tried to make fun of myself to distract her. I knew from months of watching over her and listening to her nightmares she was always shaken when she woke.

“Sorry. I should have checked to see who was calling before I answered.” She sounded a little more awake and even managed a small laugh.

“I’m really sorry. I thought I saw your light on and thought something might be wrong. About the time you answered, I realized it was Rocket and Lemon’s place.”

There was a short pause and I thought I heard her shuffling around. Maybe sliding the covers from her body so she could sit on the edge of the bed. And, Goddamn, that image needed to stay the fuck outta my head!

“You were… checking on me?”

“Well, yeah.” I hoped I sounded sheepish and embarrassed but I wasn’t that great an actor. But if it pulled her out of her nightmares, I’d suffer through it. Gladly. “I guess I was.”

She took in a shuddering breath before speaking again. “Because of what happened?”

I had to be careful about my answer here. I didn’t want her thinking I felt obligated to look after her, but I didn’t want to scare her either. God knew she had plenty of reasons to be scared of me.

“Because you need someone looking after you and I kind of enjoy the job.”

“You don’t have to, you know. I’ll be fine.”

“I know you will. You’re strong. You need time to heal and to learn to trust yourself again.”

“I didn’t expect you to say that.”

“Why not? What should I have said?” I kept my voice neutral and conversational. I wanted her to keep talking so she could settle her mind. I always managed to find a way to get through to her when she had a nightmare. I don’t know if she suspected I was watching her or not, but whenever I’d hear her crying or calling out in fear, I’d send a text. Or knock on her door. Or call. If she’d noticed the timing, she hadn’t said anything. Positive or negative.

“I thought you’d tell me I’d have to learn to trust you. Why would you think I didn’t trust myself?”

I had to smile. I’d led her straight where I wanted her to go and she’d done so without hesitation. “Because you already trust everyone in this club. What you don’t trust is your own judgment telling you to trust us.”

She was silent so long I thought I might have overplayed my hand. Then her soft voice asked, “How do you know I trust you?”

“Because, when Rocket and Lemon said the club would pay for a place outside the compound if you wanted to get away from us, you declined.”

“Yeah,” she said on a sigh. “I suppose you’re right. I just couldn’t stand the thought of being out on my own again. I was obviously not very good on my own the first time.”

“That wasn’t your fault, Gina. Once he got you back here, it was easy for him to make you feel like you didn’t have a choice. You know better now and you choose to stay.”

“I never really thought about it that way. I couldn’t get past having to be on my own. And Lemon… well…”

“What about her? You know she’s solidly in your corner. Right?”

“That’s just it, Falcon. I do know. She didn’t make excuses for anyone. She didn’t doubt anything I told her. She believed everything and I was quick to tell her you guys thought I was willing when… you know… when you…” Even now she couldn’t say it, and I wanted to claw out my own heart.

“Yeah, honey. I know. We’re all ashamed of that, even if we didn’t know. We could have taken the time to talk to you more. Or at all, really.” I gave a self-deprecating snort of laughter. “More importantly, we could have made sure you knew you weren’t in danger from any of us. All you had to do was tell someone you wanted away from Hammer and we’d have removed you from the situation and asked questions later. We didn’t make it clear so that’s on us.”

“I guess,” she said softly. “Seems like both of us were victims of Hammer’s deception.”

“I’d say that’s a fair statement.”

I heard sounds on her end as she moved from her bedroom. I heard a door open, then close. Moments later, the light in her living room came on.

“You said you saw a light. That you thought it was mine.” She sounded better now. More herself. Though I hated that she’d donned the air of indifference she hid behind, I was glad that, at least subconsciously, she’d trusted me enough to tell me what she had.

“Yeah. I did.”

“Are you close by, then?”

“Yeah. Just outside.” Not a lie.

“Um, would you, uh…” She cleared her throat. “Would you like some coffee?”

“You good with me being in your space without one of the women nearby?”

“I think so.” Her voice said she was trying to convince herself she could do this and wasn’t doing a very good job. “You’d leave if I got overwhelmed. Right?”

“Absolutely. In fact, why don’t we sit outside on the porch? That way you can keep the door between us if you want to.”

There was a pause, then a sniffle before she spoke again. “You’d do that? Just to make sure I was comfortable?”

“Gina, honey. Of course. I like bein’ around you. I like talkin’ to you and just wavin’ at you as I drive by. I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure you always want to spend that kind of time with me.” God, could I sound any more pathetic? Did I fucking care?

“Come over, Falcon. I’ve unlocked the door and am making coffee. Let yourself in. We can sit and chat for a while.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice, honey.”

I chuckled as I took my time walking up her driveway. I knocked loudly before opening the door. Even though she was expecting me, I wanted to make sure she was well aware of where I was in her home.

“Hey.” Her smile was small, but so beautiful it made my heart ache. How anyone could have hurt this woman was beyond me. She carried a tray with two mugs, a pot of black coffee, cream and sugar. That was something else about Gina. She was always prepared with a way to entertain guests. I got the feeling at least some of that came from the need to have something to concentrate on besides being scared all the time. The other was a desire to make people comfortable and welcome. The way she dealt with all the children the club had recently acquired seemed to fulfill that side of her as well. Which gave her an added distraction from her fear. “I have some caramel sauce in the fridge if you’d rather.”

“Black’s fine for me. Thank you, Gina.”

She fixed hers with a liberal amount of cream and sugar before blowing gently over the liquid and taking a careful sip. I watched her as I took a sip of my own coffee, letting the silence stretch. I’d follow her lead.

“Um, I should thank you. I actually had dozed off and was having a nightmare when you called.” One hand cupped her mug while she ran her other hand up and down her arm.

 

About the Author

Marteeka Karland is an international bestselling author who leads a double life as an erotic romance author by evening and a semi-domesticated housewife by day. Known for her down and dirty MC romances, Marteeka takes pleasure in spinning tales of tenacious, protective heroes and spirited, vulnerable heroines. She staunchly advocates that every character deserves a blissful ending, even, sometimes, the villains in her narratives. Her writings are speckled with intense, raw elements resulting in page-turning delight entwined with seductive escapades leading up to gratifying conclusions that elicit a sigh from her readers.

Away from the pen, Marteeka finds joy in baking and supporting her husband with their gardening activities. The late summer season is set aside for preserving the delightful harvest that springs from their combined efforts (which is mostly his efforts, but you can count it). To stay updated with Marteeka's latest adventures and forthcoming books, make sure to visit her website. Don't forget to register for her newsletter which will pepper you with a potpourri of Teeka's beloved recipes, book suggestions, autograph events, and a plethora of interesting tidbits.

 

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