Tuesday, December 1, 2020

The Reaper Collection by Jade Royal


The Reaper Collection
Jade Royal

Genre: Paranormal Thriller
Date of Publication: 10/29/2020
ASIN: B08KC7237Z
Word Count: about 80K
Cover Artist: V Designs

Tagline: Death will soon find you...

Book Description: 

They're coming without mercy…

The Optimist
The Child
The Scorned Woman
The Best Friend

They want revenge...

A chain of lies spoken by trusted parents, stolen possibilities from a lover, the wrongful conviction of a stranger, and betrayal by the greatest ally. Pain corrupts their minds, twists their souls, and schemes a plan for death. Their victims will face karma, delivered as retribution.

And nothing will stop them…



Excerpt 1

“Thirty,” Remi blurted.

“Thirty what? It’s going to take more than a measly thirty bucks to get you out of this, Remington.”

“Thirty seconds,” Remi pushed anxiously. She needed more time.

“Fourteen. No more. No less.”

Remi mumbled to herself. Maybe this was just a sick joke that would reveal itself after the fourteen seconds were up.

“Ready, little rabbit?” Zachary’s voice was low and threatening. Danger.



About the Author:

When the voices begin to speak, Jade Royal sits down in her lab to write the tale. The story unfolds with each keystroke as she listens to her instincts bring the words to life. For as long as she can remember, Jade has always expressed her creative nature artistically, especially by writing. She refers to herself as “Slave to the Pen” because it’s difficult for her to resist the call to write.

Jade resides in Cincinnati, Ohio where she was born and raised. She has many siblings and is very family-oriented. She spends Sunday evenings eating dinner with them keeping the bond between family nice and strong. 

As an international bestselling author, Jade hopes to pull in her readers to experience a community of stories that they can relate to on various levels. The emotional roller coaster that is bestowed will hopefully make her readers stalk her words and provide literate entertainment. 

For more information on Jade Royal, follow her on her website and social media avenues.

šŸ“šConnect with JadešŸ“š









Jade Royal Monthly Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/cyDq6j 

The Royal Court of Jade Royal: 




Monday, November 30, 2020

Black Oak : The Loveless Chronicles Chapter 1 by Titus Murphy

 


Black Oak 
The Loveless Chronicles 
Chapter 1 
Titus Murphy 

Genre: Horror, Fantasy
Publication Date: October 31, 2020
Publisher: Cosby Media Production 
ASIN: B08KRQDCGY

WELCOME TO BLACK OAK!

In the town of Black Oak, nothing is ever what it seems. Besides the wrangling local country-types, the city is marred by a history of indiscretions, murders, and no-named civilians perpetrating as heroes. But beneath the surface of this "run of the mill," Midwestern locale lurks a pervasive past that is about to come full circle: like a blazing blood moon.

Mark is an unassuming trucker who has fallen for a beautiful clerk working at a “Mom & Pop” store named Sharon, and nothing else in the world matters more than stealing her heart. But after making a run into the Bayou to deliver a package, destiny steps in and serves him a plate of "the unexpected," which sparks the flames of wickedness that will set his hometown ablaze. And as the secrets buried in this town begin to unearth, the truth will fan those burning flames until there is nothing left but ashes and chaos.

In the end, the only mystery left to solve will be if this is isolated to one town or involve the fate of the entire world...

FOREWORD REVIEW: "...full of interesting characters who hold attention...the secrets of their home are a binding force that brings the tale together."

CLARION RATING: 4/5 "In the fantasy novel Black Oak, citizens across two ears reckon with strange creatures among them."

Exclusive Bewitching Excerpt:

“I don’t mean to sound pushy,” Beth started, “but earlier you said that I’m a Dreamer. Tell me more about what that is.”

Zack turned away from Frank, walked over to Beth, and took a seat back at the table next to her. “I’m going to give you the short version,” said Zack, “only because I need to get to the real reason for our visit.”

“Of course,” said Beth.

“So straight to the point, you are a Dreamer, as I said before,” Zack said. “That makes you part witch and part psychic but with an added benefit of being more powerful than both. The main difference between you and normal witches is that you can see into the future without using magic because your psychic side empowers you to do so naturally. And you don’t even need to train this skill. Where other witches fail, you succeed because they don’t have the natural psychic ability you do. They have to use magic to see into the future.”

Beth gawked in amazement at Zack’s words. “So how far into the future can I see?” asked Beth.

Zack shrugged. “To be honest, I don’t know. But what I do know is that the answers you seek can only be found in the grimoire. The grimoire is the most powerful spell book among witches and warlocks. Every spell from growing flowers in your garden to conjuring up lightning is recorded in that book. Every name of every witch and warlock, whether good or bad, down to every war, including the Great War of 1782 is recorded in that book. You can even find spells on how to create magical objects like amulets and talismans.”

“And even the mystical arts of performing magical charms and divination, on summoning or invoking supernatural entities, is also a part of that book,” ZoĆ« chimed.

“Do you know how many supernatural beings would love to get their hands on that book?” Zack added. 

“Where is the book now?” asked Beth.

“Long gone,” Zack said. “It was given to a very powerful witch like yourself to keep safe. She also was a dreamer, the first of your kind, and the only one until now. You are the second, my sister, in our 250 years of traveling on this earth.”

“Only the second?” said Frank. 

“Yes, only the second, and we’ve been everywhere in this world, so that should tell you something. Your wife’s kind is rare.”

 “Well, the question here for you to answer now is, who and where is the first?” asked Beth.

“Her name was Tiara. And she died along time ago,” replied Zack somberly.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Did you know her? I mean were you close with her?” asked Beth.

“Yes…very. She was the one who taught ZoĆ« and me how to use our powers,” said Zack. His eyes beat over to ZoĆ«. “She protected us during and after the Great War. If it wasn’t for her, we would’ve been dead long ago.”

“God, I miss her,” said ZoĆ«, finally speaking up.

“Well, now that you know everything there is to know, keep this in mind. Power is innocent. The one who wields it…” said Zack with a brief pause. He pointed directly at Beth. “Well, that is what taints it. He or she must decide to use it for good or evil. That choice makes a difference.”

“Just remember who you are,” said ZoĆ«, cutting in.

“I will,” said Beth.

“Good, now let’s get to the real reason why we’re here,” said Zack. “After the great battle back in 1782, Jackals and witches all went their separate ways as the town was no longer viable. The fallout of the fight was tremendous; houses were burned to the ground. Bodies were everywhere, and the land was saturated in blood and rotten flesh. The stench was unbearable. It was all a complete mess. So some witches migrated to the east while others went north. ZoĆ«, Tiara, and I headed west. After settling down for a few months, we split up again and went our separate ways. Tiara told us she was going on a journey to find someone very important and that she would be back in approximately one year.”

“If you don’t mind me asking,” said Beth, “why didn’t you two go with her?”

“We wanted to, but she forbade it. She insisted that we remain behind and give aid to any stragglers that needed assistance,” said ZoĆ«.

“Yes, she did,” said Zack as he nodded in agreement. “There is not a day that goes by that I don’t live with the regret of my decision that day.”

“So what happened to Tiara?” asked Frank.

“We never saw her again,” said Zack, his voice raspy and soft. “But anyway, after 30 years away from Black Oak, we had grown very powerful, teaching ourselves the ways of mysticism and sorcery. And then one day in the fall of 1812, ZoĆ« and I felt something: a surge of power we’d not yet experienced before. Not since the Great War. It was all in the air, calling out to us. So we packed our things and followed the surge to its source until it led us back here to our original home of Black Oak.” Zack took a moment to smile as ZoĆ« placed a gentle hand over his. “I could see the town in the distance and, as ZoĆ« and I approached, we started preparing ourselves for a fight because we didn’t know who or what was living there. But the closer we got, our minds began to calm. The visions before us were heartwarming. People were everywhere. Families and friends were bustling about. The town was good as new. It was like nothing ever happened and the magic we felt there was good and pure and untouched by evil.”

“You could sense it,” said ZoĆ«.

“And now it’s happening again, but only this time, the magic feels different. It’s evil for sure, I know it,” said Zack.

“How can you tell?” asked Beth.

“Answer one question for me,” said Zack, staring intently at Beth.

“Okay,” she replied.

“What did you sense from my sister and me when you first opened your door?” asked Zack.

“Good. I felt good in both of you,” said Beth. “Nothing bad…not even a little bit.”

“And I too felt the same thing when I saw you. And I’m not talking only about tonight,” said Zack. “But what I feel in this town now is wicked. Mark my words. Something is coming. What’s more, is that something is already here. And that should be impossible. Do you know why?” asked Zack as he stared at both Frank and Beth for an answer. 

They were both speechless, but Beth took a stab at it anyway. “There’s some special magic protecting us?”

“Yes. A force field—placed over this town hundreds of years ago by the witches, that was supposed to stop dangerous beasts or any other supernatural creatures from passing through,” said ZoĆ«. 

“But I’m afraid the force field failed against whatever forced its way in. Now ZoĆ« and I need to find out who or what it is before someone gets hurt or maybe worse…killed.”

“Killed?” Beth inquired.

“Yes. On the way over here, we came across a sea of dead bodies in the woods. Most likely campers who were mauled to death, and it looked like the work of Riffs,” said ZoĆ« nonchalantly.

About the Author:

Titus Murphy was born and raised on the streets of New Orleans, Louisiana.  From a small child, there was an overarching desire for Titus to do one thing: win. His drive and determination drove him to succeed. Armed with a strong mind, a quick wit, and a sharp tongue, he set out to emblaze his mark on everyone he would encounter. Unknown to him were the overwhelming obstacles and seemingly insurmountable tragedy he would have to endure. From this devastation came a resolve fueled by an uncompromising commitment that resonates through every aspect of his life. Forced from the city he knew and loved, Titus relocated to Atlanta, Georgia. It was there his desire and commitment came together resolutely to birth a dream that had long been held in his heart. Oblivious to detraction, and beyond all doubt, Titus would become an author. From the streets of New Orleans that marked his life, to the ink-graced pages upon which he now pours his soul, Titus Murphy has come to show the world that he is truly…something more. 






Friday, November 27, 2020

Character Interview - The Journeys of a Different Necromancer by James J Crofoot


Kent-Hello, this is Kent Alderridge with Interview a Book Character on wxyz radio. 

Today we have a special guest from the hit book, The Journeys of a Different Necromancer. Live with us today is one of the main characters, will you introduce yourself?

Christina-Hello, my name is Christina. I’m the backbone of the book.

Kent-I’m sure this book is fantastic. What is your role in the book, The Journeys of a Different Necromancer?

Christina-Like I said, I’m the backbone and I’m also the love interest. Things that this Thomas, Student of Xavier never learned in his studies.

Kent-I see. You say he has no backbone, but he did take out a kingdom before he met you.

Christina-And then he tortured himself endlessly about it. Some people deserve to die, he just doesn’t get that.

Kent-And he did save you once from the brigands.

Christina-Ah he was slowing me down. And then he tortured himself over the way he saved that merchant's daughter just because she said she could never look at him the same. Bullcrap is what I call it. He keeps coming up with reasons to call himself and his magic evil and immoral.

Kent-So, do you think he does more good than evil with his magic?

Christina-There’s not an evil bone in Thomas’s body. He saves people.

Kent-I see, well one more question my listeners are dying to know, what about that dagger on your hip? Where did you get that from?

Christina-I got it from my father, and he did teach me how to use it. It is special to me because it’s the only thing of him I have left.

Kent-Have you ever used it before you met Thomas.

Christina-That’s a stupid question. I didn’t exist before James J Crofoot wrote me into Thomas’s life. Want me to use it on you for asking that question?

Kent-And that’s all for today folks. Tune in next time when we have another special surprise for you.

Christina-Do you do you want me to use it on you?

Kent-Cut to break! Cut to break! 

Christina-Say the name again.

The Journeys of a Different Necromancer
The Locked Door Series
Book One
James J Crofoot

Genre: Young Adult Fantasy
Date of Publication: August 2, 2020
ASIN: B08FCKJK5D
Number of pages: 100
Word Count:  20k

Book Description: 

Thomas wanted to learn to read and write things only Xavier the Necromancer could teach. But Thomas learned much more. He learned to raise the dead. Then, with his knowledge, he set out for the distant sea. 

Along the way, he made an army, encountered a dragon, and fought thieves by the score. But, could he continue to use the knowledge Xavier gave? Could he hold to his teacher's views that all people were self-centered, greedy, and jealous of him for being so much better? 

Could he return to the obsidian tower to live a life where the world was locked out, where his teacher had kept all life away to simply be left alone? Where no one ridiculed and beat him for being different? Could he return to a life where only the undead, his risen, kept him company?


Excerpt

“I was with Xavier,” Thomas replied. With head bowed, he stared at his stew, sensing he would not be allowed to eat.

“Who?” His mother’s voice. Her angry, high-pitched voice.

Thomas looked up at his father to see a pipe halfway to a gaping mouth. “Xavier, you know, he lives in the tower. He wants to teach me to read and write. He wants me to be his apprentice.”

His mother sat down and stared at him.

“He’s got lots of books, scores of them. He showed me a book with lots of animals in it.”

His da sat back in his chair, silent. His mum folded her hands in her lap, also silent.

“Think of it,” Thomas continued excitedly. “Think of the things I could do if I could read. I could go and work for the prince in Targon, I could see the whole kingdom.”

“Go to bed, Thomas,” Da said.

The boy gazed down at his untouched food. It smelled good and looked even better, but his father had spoken. Thomas got up and climbed the ladder to his loft. Deep into the night, even after his parents stopped their whispered arguing, he lay in bed thinking of the map Xavier had shown him of the kingdom. He would find a way. He would be…what word had Xavier used? Necromancer. He would be a necromancer and he would see the whole kingdom.

* * * *

In the morning, Thomas awoke to the smell of porridge. Having had no dinner the night before, he hurried down the ladder. There he found his da already eating. His mum ladled his share into a bowl and then got some for herself.

“We’ve decided you may learn to read and write. None of that dark stuff, though. You hear? No digging up of graves,” his da said. “We want more for your life, Thomas. Now then, what does this friend of yours want in return? We can’t afford to pay anything. I suppose he mentioned a price.”

Thomas looked at his mum as she sat down. She folded her hands in her lap and remained quiet.

“He said it would cost nothing. He just wants someone to teach. Xavier said he’s getting old and just wants someone to pass on some of ’is…” Thomas paused trying to remember the word. “…knowledge.”

Da wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “Then we’ll give it a try. Only til ’arvest, though. You’ll be needed in the fields then. Anything after that and we’ll see.”

A month and a half, Thomas thought excitedly. I have a month and a half!

“No good will come of this,” his mum remarked. “Mark my words, that man never did any good for anyone.”

Thomas finished his breakfast in a gulp and got up to run from the house. He stopped just outside the door to pick up his favorite stick and heard his da say, “I want better for him, Sonya. This life is no life for my son. He’s smarter than this.”

* * * *

A month passed and Thomas studied. He studied geography; the world turned out to be a lot bigger than he imagined. He learned arithmetic, how to count to a thousand. Then moved on to reading and writing, eight to nine hours a day he went through the books and scrolls. On the second and third floors of the tower stood skeletons of various animals, there he learned science, anatomy, and biology.

The fourth floor, however, Xavier said he needed to learn a good deal more before being ready for that.

“The villagers are shunning me,” he said to Xavier one day after learning the word. “They whisper about me whenever I pass. Even my friends. Yesterday I waved to them and started walking, to tell them what I was learning, and they turned their backs and ran away.”

Xavier looked up from the book he held. “People, for the most part, are very small-minded. They shun what they do not understand or things that are different.”

“Was that the way it was with you when you first started studying to be a necromancer?”

“People always thought me to be a little different. Look, Thomas, you will see more, you will do more, than they can imagine in their empty heads. You will learn to create life from death.”

Thomas thought about these words for some time. He wanted to do more than just plant and harvest. He wanted to travel this world, especially the sea to the west, to see more than just this tiny village too small for a name. He decided he liked being different. He was already learning more than they ever would. Did not that make him better?



About the Author:

James J Crofoot started working at 11 years old and never stopped. He’s been a sailor in the U.S. Navy, worked in video tape production, made money investing in stocks, and traveled throughout the US as a truck driver and an army brat. He’s been to all four corners of the US and to the top of every major mountain range in the United States. 

Through it all, writing has been his first love, companion, and constant friend. He has so many stories to tell, he plans to spend the rest of his life writing. 

Born in Germany he currently resides in the "Great Mitten" that is Michigan. He resides with his insane family consisting of his sister, two spoiled but loving nieces, a brother in law, and two dogs.

He hopes you’ll enjoy his books while sipping tea, coffee, or cocoa on a rainy day.










Tuesday, November 24, 2020

Review - Grave War by Kalayna Price

Grave War (Alex Craft, #7)Grave War by Kalayna Price
My rating: 5 of 5 stars

Sad to see this series end. It has been one of my favorites.

The book opens with Alex having taken over as the lead investigator for the Fae Investigation Bureau after Falin ascended to the throne of Winter Court as the new King. Her first day on the job all hell breaks loose and she's thrust into chaos. Things go from bad to worse with the fate of Faerie in Alex's hands. Can she come up with a solution before magic disappears from the mortal world and all the Fae fade?

Grave War tied up many loose ends and answered many questions that had been left hanging throughout the series. However, I felt the story was rushed and left out many favorite characters that had played key roles throughout the series. Most major characters only got a quick mention, including Death. Having played such a major role in the earlier books I had hoped to see more of him, even if they did "officially" break up.

In the end, I was both surprised by a few revelations and satisfied by the happy ending. There's plenty of room for more stories in the future if Price ever decides to resurrect the series.



I received this book for review from the publisher via Netgalley.


View all my reviews

Thursday, November 19, 2020

The House of the Wolf by Alison Baird



The House of the Wolf
The Werewolves of Quebec 
Book One
Alison Baird

Genre:  Paranormal, Werewolf
Publisher:  Salon Books
Date of Publication:  2017
ISBN: 0969803168
ASIN:  978-0-9698031-6-4
Number of pages:  426
Word Count:  131, 320
Cover Artist:  Y. Nikolova 

Tagline:  The wolf within is the greatest danger of all.

Book Description:

In the barren arctic, a white wolf journeys alone across the tundra. All his life he has dreamed of the strange creatures called humans that dwell far to the south –– creatures that wolf lore says have an ancient mystical kinship with his own species. Abandoning his pack, he sets out to make contact with human beings and learn the truth.  

In the state of Vermont, a young girl embarks on her own journey of self-discovery. 18-year-old Chantal Boisvert never knew her parents, and she is determined to learn more about them –– especially her French Canadian father, who died in mysterious circumstances. 

When she arrives in the province of Quebec the wealthy Boisvert family gives Chantal a seemingly warm and loving welcome. But then strange and sinister things start to happen. 

Why do her relatives slip away into the forest after sundown?  Why does she keep dreaming at night of being a wolf running in the wild?  Who is the attractive pale-haired boy who keeps turning up, and why do he and his friends seem so concerned for her safety?

Could it possibly be true that the Boisverts are loups garous –– werewolves?


Excerpt:

It was the wolves that woke her.

At some indeterminate point between sleep and waking she became conscious of a sound.  It insinuated itself subtly and delicately first into her ears, and then her mind, becoming part of her dreams: a sound she had never heard before, composed of multiple high-pitched cries.  She visualized these in her head as intertwining silver threads, weaving in and out of the darkness as if it were a backing of black velvet: each strand clear and shimmering and pure.  They reminded her of birdsong or whale-music.  But birds and whales are solitary singers: this was a whole chorus of ethereal voices raised, not in perfect harmony, but in a kind of counterpoint.  One voice would begin, soft and low, rising to a thin quaver; then the rest would join in.  Trying drowsily to analyze what she was hearing, Chantal moved at last from fragmented semi-consciousness into full waking awareness.

Wolves – it’s a wolf pack!

She had never heard wolves howl in the wild, only in movies where the sound effect used was a single long wail like a lonely dog’s.  Never had she imagined anything like this.  The sound was beautiful, but also unearthly.  She had heard of things that could make one’s hair stand on end; as she listened, she swore she could actually feel the fine hairs on her arms and the nape of her neck pricking up.  It must be her imagination though, for the odd sensation extended even to where she had no hair, on her cheeks and the backs of her hands and along her spine.  She alternately shivered as though cold, and then flushed as if with a fever.  Opening her eyes, she saw the moon at the window: full, round, tinged with gold; a “hunter’s moon”. 

Springing out of bed, she went to the window and opened it, letting in the chill night air.  She breathed it in, in deep hungry gulps.  But she still felt sweaty and flushed.  She tore off her pants and tee shirt and tossed them aside.  Now the night breeze blew upon her entire body, and her hot prickling skin responded to its icy caress as if to a physical touch.  A brief giddiness made her reel and clutch at the windowsill for support.  Chantal looked down at her hands resting on the sill. 

But they were no longer hands. 

They had become two grey-brown furred limbs ended in broad, clawed pads. It was the fur that made her feel so hot, she realized.  Her tongue lolled, panting, from her mouth, its soft length spilling over teeth and jaws that now had a different shape…

With understanding came not fear, but relief and joy.  She was not feverish after all, nor was she in any kind of danger.  This was obviously just a dream.  She would wake from it soon, as she did from every dream, and then everything would be all right.  But now the wolf-voices called again, and the dream-body she wore yearned for the freedom of the outdoors, for the cool scent-laden air and the exhilaration of running through the forest.  She glimpsed indistinct, shadowy shapes flitting through the blackness under the trees, and eyes like glimmering stars turned towards her in invitation.

In one light easy motion, Chantal sprang out of the window and into the night.

 

About the Author:

Alison Baird is the award-nominated author of numerous novels for both adult and young adult readers, including The Dragon's Egg (Scholastic Canada), White as the Waves (Tuckamore Books), The Hidden World, The Wolves of Woden, and the Willowmere trilogy (Penguin Canada), and The Dragon Throne trilogy (Warner Books). Baird has also published numerous works of short fiction in Canadian magazines and anthologies.  She lives in Ontario, Canada.








Tuesday, November 10, 2020

Guest Blog- A Heart of Salt and Silver by Elexis Bell



First and foremost, thank you to Fang-Tastic Books for having me and to you for reading.

Now. Many authors listen to music while writing, and I’m no exception. Unless I’m out and about and I’m just writing notes on my arm, I tend to have music playing. The entire playlist for A Heart of Salt & Silver is down below. There are a few songs that played a pretty big role though, and they definitely got more air time than the rest.

Hurt for Me by SYML is 100% Nolan's song. Though, The Curse of the Fold by Shawn James is more like something he would sing.

Anti-Gravity by Glory Oath + Blood (which isn’t available on Spotify, so is not in this playlist) was pivotal in writing a scene where it becomes obvious just how much of a badass Ness truly is, even if she doesn't believe it herself.

Hands on the Bible by Local H was fantastic for action scenes. (Oh, yeah. There's definitely some action.)

And then, there's Various Storms and Saints by Florence and the Machine. That freaking song...

Okay, story time.

When I was writing this book, I made it about 33,000 words in (the complete total is somewhere around 80,000), and realized something was wrong. I didn't know what, and I kept writing because I knew it could always be edited later. One day, I was listening to music at work, like I do, and Various Storms and Saints came on.

And something about it just... clicked. It resonated with the story in a way that I didn't quite understand yet, but it just worked. So I put it on repeat and listened to it for hours, trying to tease out whatever I was missing.

And, boy, was it a big problem.

At first, I thought that this song was Ness' song. The emotion of it, not even the words, the way the song felt just fit her. But if it was Ness' song, it meant I had her motivations completely wrong.

Which would mean a total rewrite. By this point, I was 36,000 words deep. A rewrite was daunting. So I did the dumb thing, and resisted the story.

I tried telling myself, "No, it's Nolan's song."

But it wasn't.

Well, not entirely. The song fit both of them.

So, at 40,000 words, I went back and did a complete rewrite. I cut entire chapters (and saved them in a deleted scenes document) and replaced them with new ones. Every chapter that remained had to be completely redone to accommodate Ness' true motivations. How she acted, talked, thought... all of it had to change.

And every problem I had with the story before that was fixed by one revelation about Ness' feelings.

Of course, you'll have to read the book so she can tell you how she really feels. I can't just spoil it for you.

Here’s the Spotify playlist:


Songs that are in my playlist on my phone but aren’t on Spotify:

Anti-Gravity by Glory Oath + Blood
Radio Lust by The Blancos
Best Behavior by Beach Season
Hold on to Something by The Crystal Method ft. Teflon Sega and Delila Paz

Here’s the YouTube Music playlist (It has all the songs but the one by The Blancos)- this link only works if you subscribe to youtube music.

Thank you so much for your time, and thanks again to Fang-Tastic Books. I wish you all happy reading, whether it’s my book or someone else’s.



A Heart of Salt and Silver
Elexis Bell

Genre: Dark supernatural high fantasy romance

Date of Publication: 11/3/2020

Cover Artist: Elexis Bell 

Tagline: With eternity on the line, is love worth the risk?

Book Description: 

Ness, a demi-demon with a conscience, just wanted a peaceful afternoon in the Forest of Immortals. But Elias, a reckless mortal, went and spoiled it. Not that he wanted to be chased by psychotic vampires.

After saving his life, Ness agrees to help him find his estranged father and his Pack. But that means facing Nolan, the werewolf ex that holds her heart.

Now, Ness must decide. Use Elias to forget Nolan at the cost of his soul or crawl back to her ex and hope he still wants her even though she broke his heart.

But in a world sprinkled with immortals, broken hearts might be the least of their worries.

Fans of gritty fiction, compelling romance, and imaginative takes on magic and the afterlife will love this dark supernatural high fantasy romance.


Excerpt 2:

With my good arm, I pull my leg up to bend the knee. Hiking the hem of my dress up, I reveal torn muscle and shredded skin. I wince as the fabric moves over it, tugging flaps of skin in directions they aren’t meant to go.

Elias’ hands set to work, scooping water up, and pouring it over my thigh. Each drop, gentle as the administration of them may be, pulls a moan of pain from my lips. Wrapping fingers tightly around a stone, I do what I can to bear the pain without making Elias feel worse.

The blood washes away, revealing the true devastation wrought by the dead wolf’s jaws. My leg hangs open, dark muscle showing itself to the sky as it was never meant to do.

“Itand have mercy,” he whispers, calling on the goddess of fortitude.

But she’ll spare no blessings for the likes of me.

“What do I need to do?” he asks. His eyes roam over me, and one hand finds its way to my cheek. Brows knitted together, he clearly longs for something to do, some reassurance that I’ll be ok.

Does he want me to be alright for the sake of spending more time together? Or merely for the sake of having an escort for the rest of the trek?

I hope for his sake that it’s the latter. But the well of loneliness within me wishes for the former.

Either way, there’s nothing he can do.

“My body will mend itself,” I tell him. “It’ll hurt, but it’ll mend. It’s already started.”

His eyes drop to my arm, my leg. The bleeding has stopped, and the cuts aren’t as deep as they were mere seconds ago. Had he seen it when the wounds were first inflicted, he likely would’ve been sick.

“I wish you would’ve let me help,” he murmurs, sliding his hand along my jaw until his thumb finds my earlobe.

Exhaustion pulls my inhibitions low. Despite myself, despite the guilt churning within me, I lean into his caress.

Nolan won’t want me back, anyway.

My heart shrinks from the thought, and I close my eyes, nuzzling my cheek into Elias’ palm.

“Letting you help would’ve been a terrible idea. They could never kill me. They had no salt, no silver. They couldn’t say any incantations.”

I pause, squeezing my eyes tight against the horrid images which flash before them. I don’t want to see the ways they could’ve hurt him. I don’t want to watch them tear him to shreds. I don’t want to see his blood on the ground.

“They could’ve killed you, though,” I whisper.

Suddenly desperate to see him alive and healthy, to ease my conscience just a bit, I open my eyes. Sure enough, he’s there, face inches from mine. The moonlight glows in his magnificent eyes, but the blood of the Howlers still adorns his face.

Reaching for his sodden shirt, I lift a corner of it to his face. Wiping away the dried blood, I memorize the strength in his jaw, the kindness in his eyes. I trace the small kink in his nose, a remnant from a previous fight.

From a distance, it’s almost impossible to notice, but this close…

My eyes drop to his lips, full and soft. They part, but only to speak.

Confusion wrinkles his brow. “If they couldn’t kill you, why were they sent after us? To maim you and kill me?”

“No,” I say, shaking my head. I stifle a groan as my thigh stitches itself together. “They sent them to find us. They know where we are, now. They know which way we were headed. They’ll find us.”

Those words sew our lips shut, for we both know. This won’t be the last of the vampire and his pledge. And if this was just the search party, what awaits us down the path?

About the Author: 

Elexis Bell is a quiet nerd with too many hobbies, including everything from gaming to shower-singing and even archery, weather permitting. She specializes in sarcasm and writing stories that make people feel. She's made a home for herself with her husband, their dog, and a small army of cats.

She writes dark, gritty stories, sprinkling gut-wrenching emotions over high fantasy romance, thrillers, post-apocalyptic romance, and science fiction.

For further information, follow her on Instagram, Twitter, or Facebook, or check out her blog on her website.

Website: www.elexisbell.com 

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Monday, November 9, 2020

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Tuesday, November 3, 2020

Secret Spirit Guardians of Santa Fe by C.A. Masterson


Secret Spirit Guardians of Santa Fe
C.A. Masterson  

Genre:  Fantasy
Publisher: Wild Rose Press
Date of Publication:  October 5, 2020
ISBN:  978-1-5092-3351-9 Paperback
ISBN: 978-1-5092-3352-6 Digital
Number of pages:  330
Word Count:  82,600
Cover Artist:  Debbie Taylor

Tagline:  Most families have quirks, but not like Marissa’s.

Book Description:

After Marissa Tahy returns home to Santa Fe, she is haunted by visions and glimpses of danger no one else sees: the spirit of Old Man Gloom in his true form. 

For a hundred years, people have burned their troubles in the spirit’s effigy at the Zozobra festival, each year making the spirit angrier and more powerful.  This year, Old Man Gloom demands his due. The vengeful spirit targets those Marissa loves. 

Even when Marissa discovers the secret history binding her family to Zozobra, joining their forces may not be enough to prevent the furious spirit from burying Santa Fe beneath an avalanche of misery.

Book Trailer:  https://youtu.be/j3HVxC6azcQ 

Amazon     BN

Excerpt:

The crack between worlds happened before I decided to move home to Santa Fe. Had the thought occurred to me, I’d probably have laughed, a little. Until the memory pushed through, a half-remembered nightmare hidden in an undercurrent of emotion, but

always there, flowing beneath the surface of consciousness. Sometimes it’s better if those feelings stay buried, where they can’t pull you under.

After twenty-four years, here I was. Back in the City Different. Because sometimes, life makes hard choices for you. Otherwise, I’d still be in San Diego, not in my aunt’s house, trying hard to pretend I wasn’t a stranger to my own family. For the last half hour, I’d tried to shake off the odd sensation after Zelda made an impromptu, awkward stop at the site of my childhood home, whatever that was about. No longer commenting

on family social media posts from a distance, instead I was in the thick of things.

“How’s Javi been?” I asked Zelda. My aunt had answered my offer to help prepare dinner by handing me a glass of wine and telling me to relax, she had it under control. I had no doubt. Despite driving me from the airport, she was as cool as a freshly picked jalapeno, and as likely to burn you.

“Wonderful. But you can ask him yourself at dinner.” Her deep, distinctive voice was like smoke pouring across gravel.

“Cool, I can’t wait.” When I’d last spent time with my cousin, we’d been kids. Closer than most first cousins, we shared a family conspiracy, hoping none of our classmates would find out that we were not like any of them. No matter where we went, we didn’t belong.

Zelda’s silver bracelets jingled as she briskly arranged vegetables around haddock fillets. “Phoebe will be excited to see you again.”

“You still have her?”

“Of course. She’s as old as you, which makes her barely middle-aged. Phoebe, dear,” she called, “we have company.”

A squawk sounded from the other room, where sunshine poured across the floor in a welcoming sea of light.

I’d always loved my aunt’s house. From sunup to sundown, daylight flooded through the house’s tall windows. The wood-framed stucco structure was a typical style for Santa Fe, not much different from the others in the neighborhood. What had stood out in my

memory was the tall wooden fence that bordered the yard, painted a vivid shade of blue, with myriad crosses along the top of the front gate.

“Careful,” Zelda said. “She’s testy sometimes.”

“Aren’t we all?” I only half joked.

Before my aunt could answer, I made my way from the kitchen to the sunroom beside it. The glass enclosure looked out onto the back yard and faced the outdoor fireplace. On either side of the tall chimney, colorful painted angels decorated its white stucco surface.

The bird cage, as tall as me, occupied a corner. And as always, the door sat wide open so Phoebe could climb in if she wanted, which she almost never did unless she got hungry. A bamboo perch ran above the cage, between the two potted palm trees that provided shade. There Phoebe sat, eyeballing me. Sunlight caught the green and blue feathers, making their colors rich as jewels.

At my approach, the parrot bobbed its head and danced along the perch. Even a nip from Phoebe’s curved beak hurt like hell, so I kept a few feet between us and cooed my greeting.

Pans rattled in the kitchen. “Be nice, Phoebe girl.”

The bird gave no indication of recognizing me. I didn’t know why I’d expected a different reaction. Because I’d taught it more than fifty words, over two decades earlier? Moving home shouldn’t reduce me to childish notions.

So much for a reunion. I returned to the kitchen.

“Sure I can’t help with anything?”

“When do you start your new job?”

“Monday.” Fluttering in my belly reminded me it was coming up fast. Another long adjustment period awaited me, learning a new job, getting to know all the quirks and qualities of my coworkers. After I’d been hired as the new reporter at the Santa Fe Chronicle, I’d read the online edition every day. The stories helped give me a sense about the writers. Glimmers of their personalities shone through in their word choices, the nearly undetectable spin they gave topics.

“That doesn’t leave you much time for moving in.”

Spooning a marinade over the dish, Zelda flicked up her gaze.

The look hit me like lightning. The cogs were turning in my aunt’s head; I could practically see the rotation behind her eyes. If I didn’t put her off track, Zelda would start commandeering my daily life.

I folded my arms and shifted toward the island, a not-too-subtle body language indicating my need for a barrier between us. “The two guys I hired to bring my stuff are supposed to arrive tomorrow morning. I don’t have much, so they can get everything inside the apartment in a few hours. I prefer to take my time settling in.” All taken care of, my subtext said. No need for Zelda to worry. She could divert those black eyes elsewhere.

On cue, Zelda flashed her Mona Lisa smile and glanced away. “Too bad I gave my extra furniture to Javi.”

I watched my aunt with a mixture of wonder and frustration. All these years, and Zelda still pretended. Spoke with flawless Spanish enunciation, wore her long black hair in a bun at the back of her neck, decorated her house with painted ceramic geckos and metal sun faces, even named her son Javier to avoid question of our true nationality. My parents had committed the same sins of omission and pretense and expected us children to do the same.



About the Author 

Award-winning author C.A. Masterson loves stories of any genre. Multi-published in contemporary to historical, fantasy/dark fantasy to paranormal/speculative, she sometimes mashes genres. In 2010, The Pearl S. Buck Foundation awarded first place to her short literary story, Christmas Eve at the Diner on Rathole Street. Her short literary story, All is Calm, All is Bright, was awarded second place in the annual Pennwriters Short Story contest in 2005.

Visit her at http://paintingfirewithwords.blogspot.com or look for her romance stories as Cate Masters at http://catemasters.blogspot.com and in strange nooks and far-flung corners of the web.




 

 


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