Jade: First and Last by M.D. Grimm Blog Tour + Excerpt

Good day lovely readers! Thank you for joining me. I am M.D. Grimm and I am here to promote my newest release, “Jade: First and Last.” This is the latest entry in The Stones of Power, and the structure became a quest story, much the same as the first book in the series. I kept making it worse for my guys as they searched for the jade stone of power. And I had a bit too much fun doing so. I only have four books left before I wrap things up for Lord Morgorth and Aishe, and I am both excited and saddened. They’ve been with me for a decade, and it will be an end of an era when I let them go. If you like magic, surly, anti-hero mages (wizards), their loyal, long-suffering mates, and a fun setting with quirky supporting characters, this series might be for you!

Enjoy this exclusive excerpt!

**

I stared in fascination as Morgorth’s skin rippled and the air around him shimmered. He’d confirmed how agonizing the change was, and I gritted my teeth at the sounds of breaking bones and snapping tendons. His proportions shrank, his skin erupted in feathers, and his face grew a beak. His low moan turned into a ruckus caw.

A long moment later a large black bird stood on the floor, ruffling his feathers, and clicking his beak. He flapped his wings and cocked his head, familiarizing himself with his new form.

I knelt in front of him and slipped the small cord over his head. The thumbnail-size crystal lay against his chest. “You are beautiful.”

He let out a soft sound, almost a coo, and flapped his wings hard, gaining lift. I stood and he fluttered over to land on my shoulder.

“Are you ready?”

He nipped at my hair.

I hid him under my cloak as we snuck out. Once outside, I drew up my hood, since Morgorth advised against using the same disguise potion as yesterday. He didn’t want to make me sick. I stepped around the corner once outside, and Morgorth took flight, wheeling a bit unsteadily through the air. I watched for a moment, anxious before following him on foot. The city was far busier in the early afternoon. Everyone moved with a purpose and rarely made eye contact or even greeted each other. I didn’t sense unfriendliness, more unease and a bit of fear.

As I followed Morgorth down a few side streets we’d tried the other night, I noticed the graffiti on the walls and spots of vandalism. I hadn’t spotted them in the dark. The words were in the local dialect, but I could understand the meaning well enough. Calls for revolution or for someone to depose the king.

I got a bit distracted, trying to decipher a few of the words and graphic pictures, and wondering if the current state of the city, and the kingdom as a whole, could have an impact on the thief’s actions. A group of children, none at puberty yet, ran past me, screaming and hollering in manic glee. I flinched at the noise but found myself smiling. Even in this devastated city, the perseverance of children couldn’t be dampened. But their ragged clothing, dirty faces, and bare feet, concerned me. They were far too skinny, and their body odor lingered in their wake.

“What’s all this noise?” an old man bellowed as he stuck his head out of his door. “You get out of here, you little maggots! None of us wants to hear you carrying on.”

The kids jeered and called him names, making the old man red in the face.

I was moving forward before I knew it, hoping to stop an altercation. But then the swooping of wings, and the brush of feathers against my hood brought me back to our mission. Morgorth cawed as he soared higher. I gritted my teeth against the instinctive urge to interfere. But the kids had already run away, and the old man turned his attention to me.

He glared. “What you looking at, you davish?”

I stiffened, the insult burning. “Nothing.”

He snorted. “Get back to your own country and out of our city, tree whore. We don’t want your kind here.”

I gaped as he shut the door.

Did he just…? Was that a derogatory name for dialen? Had to be. And how dare he call me a davish! The nerve of accusing a perfect stranger of rutting with animals. The old man’s vitriol staggered me. He hated me for even existing in his presence. It appeared that generations of war turned some bitter and hateful, and irrationally bigoted.

How had he known I was a dialen, though? My hood was still in place, and the cloak was big enough to cover my clothing. Could it be my bow? Perhaps. It wasn’t the same shape and style as the bows of the city.

I sighed and tried to shake it off as I turned and followed Morgorth again. The encounter shook me despite my best efforts. The despair permeating the city was even worse in the daytime when I could see the faces of the citizens and the resignation in their eyes.

I lifted the crystal to my lips. “We have to do something about this war, Morgorth. After we find the jade, we have to… I don’t know. This place, it… we have to help if we can.”

He gave two clicks.

I sighed.

The afternoon wore on, and I witnessed a half dozen thefts, and it sickened me to turn away. But when I spotted three men harassing a woman, I couldn’t stand by. They had her backed into the end of an alley and were tugging at her arms, her clothes. I didn’t want the attention of the patrols or soldiers, so I kept my arrows and sword sheathed and used my bow as a club instead.

“Hey, you should leave her alone if you know what’s good for you!”

They all turned to me. I kept my hood up, bow at the ready.

“Who are you?” one of them asked, the one gripping her arm.

“And if you know what’s good for you, you won’t interfere,” another said.

The two speakers were rather scrawny, underfed, and their clothes were more patches than fabric. The third was a wide, short stump of a man who scowled and said nothing.

“Please help me!” the woman said, struggling against the first man’s hold.

“I won’t offer another warning,” I said, wondering where in the underworld the patrols were.

“Neither will we. Ander!”

The stump of a man charged me.

I braced and lifted my bow.

**

The Stones of Power 1-9 are available for purchase at Amazon, Smashwords, Kobo, and Barnes & Noble. I have a newsletter that I send out monthly with all the goodies you can expect in the future. That’s the best way to find out about my current and future projects.

I’m currently working on the next Shifter Chronicles book, as well as the first book in a duology concerning two sisters and their love lives with dragons and wolves.

More information on my catalog can be found at my website.

I hope you stay safe and healthy, and may dragons guard your dreams,

M.D. Grimm

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Jade: First and Last - M.D. Grimm

M.D. Grimm has a new MM fantasy book out, Stones of Power book 9 – Jade: First and Last.

Morgorth and Aishe must contend with a deadly threat that could spell disaster for their world.

Payshthas were the first of the Mother’s intelligent children. It is rare for true friendship to form between them and another species—which makes Morgorth’s bond with Enfernlo unique. And it is due to their friendship that Morgorth doesn’t hesitate to answer Enfernlo’s plea for help.

A thief has stolen something vital from Enfernlo’s colony—a stone of power.

Their hunt for the stone leads them to a war torn kingdom, and Aishe can hardly stomach what he sees. The devastation urges him to assist however he can, no matter the risk. Meanwhile, Morgorth is faced with reminders of the monster he used to be, and contemplates how far he’s come, and yet how far he still has to go. And when his estranged mentor joins them on their search, Morgorth is forced to confront his resentment and sense of betrayal, and use Master Ulezander as a tool to save the payshthas.

Forced into a deadly quest where trust is in short supply, and faced with challengers for the stone, Morgorth must put his faith in those he loves and in himself… and become a champion not just of the Mother but for Karishian itself.

Warnings: magic violence, dragon violence, war-torn country

About the Series:

Lord Morgorth is a dark mage on the planet Karishian. His peers consider him a villain, but there is more to him than they choose to understand. Cursed by a dark destiny and tormented by painful memories of the past, Morgorth struggles to find his place in the world. Far from innocent, Morgorth has teetered between embracing his destiny and fighting against it his entire life. A decision that is made easier when Aishe comes into his life.

Aishe is a creature of the forest, a warrior and healer. He has the moral compass that Morgorth needs, and Morgorth gives Aishe the companionship he craves. Together, they forge ahead, weathering the storms and fighting the enemies fate puts into their paths.

However, their greatest enemy is not a living being, but gemstones infused with deadly power. They are addictive, seductive, and completely treacherous. Morgorth hates them and is determined to find and imprison all of them. But he soon realizes they are keys to a greater power. He learns his destiny is not all he thought it was. And an even greater enemy stirs in the darkness.

Universal Buy Link


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Excerpt

Jade: First and Last meme

Morgorth snarled a word, and his magick speed shot him like an arrow into the tunnels. I followed in his wake, focusing on the eight gVattaren who were running away. The hard sand didn’t hinder us, and I caught up with their shorter strides. I shot two in the neck before those remaining reeled around and attacked. They cursed and squealed as their blades blinded me when the sun broke the horizon. I dropped my bow and grabbed my short sword.

With my own snarl, I barreled into them. My blade sang as I swung at their arms and heads while also dodging and swerving as they tried to stick me with their knives. The six surrounded me, and while a few broke through my defenses and slashed at my legs, their blades glanced off my armored clothing. It didn’t take long for the gVattaren to realize they couldn’t puncture through the cloth to my flesh.

One sneaky fellow sliced the back of my uncovered hand while another threw a blade at my face. I ducked and hissed at the sting on my hand. I cut off their arm while slashing at the one who’d flung the knife.

“What do you hope to accomplish?” I asked, spitting mad. “Do you not see the payshtha over there? He can burn you to a crisp in an instant!”

“Then why hasn’t he?” one of them said, voice raspy and filled with dark amusement.

I turned to the mocker and found an opening to kick them in the head. They dropped like a stone and the other five hissed and snarled.

“I’m not done having fun yet,” I said.

I trusted Morgorth to recover whatever they’d thrown into the tunnel as I gradually moved them farther away from the Jesllan. The small group was vicious and quick, fueled by rage. I would have been bleeding from many shallow wounds if Morgorth hadn’t enchanted my clothing. But then they surged toward me all at once, and one leapt upon my back, trying to stab my face. I gripped their wrist and twisted sharply. With a snap and a scream, they fell off me, dropping the blade. Unfortunately, with their other hand, the stabber grabbed my wrist and used their weight to force me to drop my sword arm. Then they clung and bit my hand, turning the previous slice into torn and mangled flesh that gushed blood.

I screamed, unable to shake them off.

I dropped my sword.

Seizing the opportunity, the other four attempted to saw their way through my clothing. They clung like leeches, and their combined weight made it hard for me to move.

“Get off me!” I punched at their heads with my free hand and struggled to keep my face beyond their reach.

“Close your eyes!” Enfernlo bellowed.

I snapped them shut an instant before hot air slammed into my back and engulfed me. The gVattaren shrieked in agony as the five spasmed against me. Then all the weight vanished, and it was silent except for the roar of the wind. Then that, too, dissipated.

I swayed and fell to one knee, panting. When I opened my eyes, I grimaced. The streaks of ash against the crystallized sand told me it hadn’t been hot wind, but payshtha fire. He’d disintegrated the gVattaren, just as I’d warned them he’d do.

Payshthas, like mages, could control their fire and who it harmed. To some extent, at least. But while mages needed to retain the connection to their fire, payshthas could direct it even when the bond was severed.

I tucked my mangled hand to my chest and grabbed my sword with the other. It was no worse for the wear, much to my relief. I turned and jolted. Enfernlo stood just behind, towering over me, his teeth bared, his eyes glimmering dark with rage. His wings were unfurled to their full span, and his posture reminded me of a striking snake or diving bird.

I was grateful my bowels didn’t betray me.

“Aishe!”

I turned and Morgorth engulfed me in his arms.

“Careful,” I said, grunting.

He jerked back and swept his gaze over me before focusing on my hand. His mouth twisted and his magick flared. “I’m sorry. Right after I retrieved that bomb they threw in, another group leapt out of the sand and attacked.”

I cupped his cheek with my good hand and met his gaze. “I’m all right.”

“Show me your hand,” Enfernlo said.

He no longer looked about to attack, and I breathed easier as I held out my hand. A gentle stream of fire blew out of his mouth and landed on my wound. It seeped into the torn flesh, glowed yellow, and then vanished. The pain stopped, my hand as good as new.

“Thank you.” I touched his snout.

Then I turned to Morgorth and cupped his cheek again. “And thank you for the clothes.”

He grunted. He covered my hand on his cheek and kissed my palm.


Author Bio

M.D. Grimm has wanted to write stories since second grade (kind of young to make life decisions, but whatever) and nothing has changed since then (well, plenty of things actually, but not that!). Thankfully, she has indulgent parents who let her dream, but also made sure she understood she’d need a steady job to pay the bills (they never let her forget it!).

After graduating from the University of Oregon and majoring in English, (let’s be honest: useless degree, what else was she going to do with it?) she started on her writing career and couldn’t be happier. Working by day and writing by night (or any spare time she can carve out), she enjoys embarking on romantic quests and daring adventures (living vicariously, you could say) and creating characters that always triumph against the villain, (or else what’s the point?) finding their soul mate in the process.

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

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100001710645622

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4574220.M_D_Grimm

Author Liminal Fiction (LimFic.com): https://www.limfic.com/mbm-book-author/m-d-grimm/

Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/m-d-grimm/

Author Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/M.D.-Grimm/e/B00I0KZMY6/

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Blog Tour + Character Interview: A Priest, a Plague, and a Prophecy by M.D. Grimm

Good day lovely readers! Thank you for joining me. I am M.D. Grimm and I am here to promote my newest release, “A Priest, a Plague, and a Prophecy.” This is a single title involving a sweet man who enjoys food, plants, and books, and the manly (secretly sweet) orc warrior who falls in love with him. I am thrilled to finally publish this story. I finished it as the dreaded virus ramped up and decided to shelve it since it involves a plague. But the plague is an off-page impetus to certain events later in the book. Rest assured this is a sweet, low(er)-angst, no-sexy-times-but-lots-of-snuggles, sort of story. Elias is ace but wants romance, and Gurrkk is just the orc to give that to him!

Let’s meet the man—or orc—of the hour, Gurrkk.

ME: Welcome back lovely readers! Thanks for joining me for another interview. This time with Gurrkk, the orc in the relationship. We’ve fed him and strapped him down so he can’t leave.

GURRKK: I bet I can break ropes.

ME: Please don’t. Now—

GURRKK: (wiggles and yanks at ropes) I can do it.

ME: But we don’t want you to. Please stop. Now, when you first met Elias, what did you think? Was it love at first sight?

GURRKK: (still straining against ropes, growling) Nah. He smell nice and no run me through with sword. And he feed me. And get me out of trap. He save my life.

ME: When did you realize you were in love with him? (whispers) Stop trying to break the ropes!

GURRKK: When we hide in his room with bed. Slept on bed. And bathed together.

ME: Oh, uh, right. Let’s move on—

GURRKK: He was shy. No touch. (grins) He not shy now.

ME: Right. About your clan—

(Gurrkk snaps the rope off one arm and bends to use his teeth and claws on the other)

ME: Seriously, Gurrkk, please stop. I only have a few more questions. All these people came to see you and—

GURRKK (muffled by rope) I almost ‘ave it! I will win contest.

ME: There is no contest! I just needed you to sit still for—

(Gurrkk tears free of rope and jumps to his feet, waving his hands in the air.)

GURRKK: Did it! I WIN.

ME: Good lord.

GURRKK: Where is prize?

ME: There is no prize. There’s no contest!

GURRKK: (sounding sad) No prize? But I win.

ELIAS: (off screen) Just give him something please! Or he’ll pout for the rest of the day.

ME: For the love of… here, take my last chocolate bar.

GURRKK: (cruelly snatches bar) Chocolate.

ELIAS: (off screen) What do we say, Gurrkk?

GURRKK: (mumbles) T’ank ‘ou.

ME: (sighs) You’re welcome. Can we get back to the questions now?

GURRKK: (looking puzzled) Questions?

ME: Yes. The reason we’re here.

GURRKK: I thought it was for contest.

ELIAS: (off screen) Stop playing with her, Gurrkk!

GURRKK: (smirks)

ME: Get out. Just get out. Smart ass.

GURRKK: Chocolate good. (exits)

ME: Now I really need alcohol.

I am currently working hard on the final draft of the next The Shifter Chronicles. This will be book 16 (!), and will revisit the couple from book two, Love is a Whirlwind. This one is Blood of the Whirlwind, and I hope to have it ready for a January 2024 release.

As for this year, I have book 9 of The Stones of Power, Jade: First and Last available for preorder, due out in July 2023, and the first book in my Sisters of Song duology, titled Song of Flames will hopefully be ready by October. Flames will be a mmf involving two dragon mates and the woman thief who steals their hearts (instead of their treasure).

More information on my catalog can be found at my website. (Make sure to sign up for my newsletter!)

I hope you stay safe and healthy, and may dragons guard your dreams,

M.D. Grimm

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A Priest, a Plague and a Prophecy - M.D. Grimm

M.D. Grimm has a new MM fantasy romance out (ace, bi, demi): A Priest, a Plague, and a Prophecy. And there’s a giveaway.

“Orcs are the answer but what is the question?”

Elias is a priest at the Temple of the Divine Sibyl. When he becomes lost in the woods after his brother’s hunting party abandons him, it’s just his luck that he’d stumble upon an angry orc caught in a trap. Unable to stomach the suffering of others, Elias throws self-preservation to the wind and frees the orc. Then Gurrkk—that’s a name?—ends up leading him to safety.

Gurrkk finds himself rather smitten by the sweet, awkward human. He’s always been fascinated with his people’s sworn enemy, and now he has a life debt to fulfill to maintain his honor.

Hiding an orc among the temple’s crypts wouldn’t have been Elias’s first choice but Gurrkk is stubborn about leaving. As they learn each other’s languages and spend more time together, Elias realizes they’ve become friends… and maybe more. And when the dying sibyl gives her last prophecy, Elias knows it wasn’t chance that brought them together, it was the gods.

But why?

This is a sweet, ace romance, so no sexy times, but plenty of snuggles and cuddles!

Universal Buy Links | Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Kobo | Smashwords


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Excerpt

A Priest, a Plague and a Prophecy meme - M.D. Grimm

Elias closed his eyes and clasped his hands under his chin, sending a fervent prayer to the gods, asking for a sign. Any sign that would lead him home. Seconds passed. Minutes. He cracked open one eye to look around. Seeing nothing, he glared and set his fists on his hips.

So much for divine intervention.

“I’m one of your priests, and you don’t give me the time of day,” he mumbled as he set off down the left-hand path.

He was hungry again.

Even as he was contemplating the pros and cons of eating one of his last apples, he stumbled around a thick tree before halting in shock.

An orc sat on the ground, his greenish-gold skin glistening with sweat and his coal-black eyes glaring with menace. He was almost bald, except for a spiky strip of green hair running from his forehead to the back of his skull. The lack of hair accentuated his large ears that moved independently of each other. Two pronounced fangs jutted up from his lower jaw, which was square and blunt, and more sharp teeth showed when he growled.

Elias stayed frozen, taking in the long black tunic cinched at the waist by a gold cord. The short sleeves were trimmed with gold thread, baring muscled arms. The stately garb struck Elias, making him wonder as to the status of the orc. Did they have hierarchy as humans did? The tunic ended around his knees, leaving the rest of his muscled legs bare. Also, this orc wasn’t of monstrous size, so he couldn’t be of the mountain variety. He was certainly taller and broader than Elias, but also leaner, corded with muscle, like that big cat Elias had spotted earlier. And his face was… not horrible. Brutish and sharp but not hideous or even ugly. Those illustrators of tomes really set out to depict orcs as the most horrific creatures ever to grace the earth.

The urge to run made his palms grow damp and his breath to quicken. Not that he could run for more than a few steps before wheezing because he was so damn out of shape, and why the hell didn’t he train with his brother? I’m going to die, I’m going to die….

Then his gaze traveled down to the reason the orc was sitting on the ground and not eating his face. Vicious steel jaws had the orc by the ankle, piercing deeply into his flesh. The jaws were attached to a chain that was buried into to the earth. The fact the orc hadn’t freed himself meant this was one of the trick jaws. One specifically made for capturing orcs. The scoured earth around the chain proved that the orc had tried to dig himself free but clearly hadn’t succeeded. His ankle was a mess of torn flesh and caked blood, and only then did Elias notice the buzz of flies.

How long had he been sitting there, in pain? In fear?

Sympathy rose with anger not far behind. Elias and the orc stared at each other, and Elias found himself stepping closer without consciously deciding his actions. The orc growled deeper, eyes narrowed in warning. Elias stopped again, wondering what he was doing. This was an orc! The enemy! The beasts that kept trying to take their lands. Attius’s tirades whirled through his mind even as the battle songs about marauding orcs jangled in his memory.

He’d never joined in. He’d never had anything personal against orcs. He never thought one way or another about them. Fighting them wasn’t a part of his world. Most of his life had been spent ensconced in the Temple of the Divine Sibyl, which was safely behind fortified stone walls and separated from the general populace of the city.

He was sheltered and he knew it. To see such ugly pain in another living creature struck him to the core. That was one of the reasons he didn’t eat meat. He couldn’t reconcile killing just to feed himself when there were plenty of other things to consume if he simply looked.

At that moment, this orc was no different than any other wild animal caught in a trap. And would he let such a creature die so horribly? No, he would not.

Taking a deep breath, and with more courage than he would profess to have, Elias crouched before slowly pushing off his pack. He kept his eyes on the orc and opened the top flap before tilting it to show the orc that it only held medicines, plant samples, parchment, and ink.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said gently. “Can you understand me?”

The orc made no indication either way. He continued to growl and glare.

“I want to help you.” Elias took the one weapon he had, a long dagger, and showed the orc the blade before tossing it away. The orc stopped growling and blinked in apparent surprise. Elias shuffled closer on his knees, keeping his demeanor as non-threatening as possible. He almost snorted—as if a soft priest like him could be threatening. He kept speaking in low tones as he would to a frightened animal. He kept his pack held out in front of him, hoping the harmless items would convince the orc he wasn’t a hunter.

The orc’s large nostrils flared, and he squinted into the bag. He must have smelled the remaining apples, the plant samples, and the few healing ointments Elias carried with him everywhere. Elias set the bag within easy reach of the orc just in case he wanted to investigate. Then he took a good look at the steel jaws and winced.

The orc didn’t wear shoes, his sturdy, rough feet tough enough not to need them. His nails were more like claws, almost identical to those on his fingers. The trap would have been covered, and he’d stepped directly onto the triggering mechanism. The blades had barely missed his foot to cut into his ankle, probably scraping against the bones and tendons.

Elias took a moment to fight nausea.

“Damn. Once I free your leg it’s going to bleed profusely. I have to wrap it fast and tight.” He glanced up and met the orc’s eyes. Grim determination stared back at him and Elias blinked. “You do understand me.”


Author Bio

M.D. Grimm logo

M.D. Grimm has wanted to write stories since second grade (kind of young to make life decisions, but whatever) and nothing has changed since then (well, plenty of things actually, but not that!).

Thankfully, she has indulgent parents who let her dream, but also made sure she understood she’d need a steady job to pay the bills (they never let her forget it!). After graduating from the University of Oregon and majoring in English, (let’s be honest: useless degree, what else was she going to do with it?) she started on her writing career and couldn’t be happier.

Working by day and writing by night (or any spare time she can carve out), she enjoys embarking on romantic quests and daring adventures (living vicariously, you could say) and creating characters that always triumph against the villain, (or else what’s the point?) finding their soul mate in the process.

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

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100001710645622

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4574220.M_D_Grimm

Author Liminal Fiction (LimFic.com): https://www.limfic.com/mbm-book-author/m-d-grimm/

Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/m-d-grimm/

Author Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/M.D.-Grimm/e/B00I0KZMY6/

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Balancing the Weave by M.W. Lee Blog Tour and Guest Post

Explain the evolution of the book. 

I had been toying with an idea of creating a Southern Mythology, similar to William Blake’s mythology. I thought the idea for this novella would be a good chance to try it out. I first sat down and sculpted a short story of about ten pages. I asked a friend to give it a read. She returned it with a note: “This should be a novella.” I had never written a novella, and honestly, I wasn’t sure I had read many. 

I first investigated what a novella really is. Is it just a book that’s too long to be a short story and not long enough to be novel? No. Novellas encompass much more. But the one definite point is that there are no definite rules. There is clear definition of what one is. After reading a few articles I came up with a few guidelines that I felt would work for me:

  1. Length
  2. Novellas are about one thing
  3. No subplots

There was another about rule that I abandoned later as I only saw it once, and it wasn’t working well for me. Novellas, sometimes, use symbols to move the plot forward. (I think that was it.) I love symbols, so this would fit me. I simply found it too contrived to use extensively in this novella.

I decided that my novella would focus on the theme of “neediness”. How we can all be needy at times; how supporting one’s needs makes one not needy. 

The first completed drafts that I felt ready for publication could be divided into two parts: what the Fates were doing, and what Mark didn’t know. The narrator (unnamed at this point) would divert the story and explain what went on in Sammy’s life while Mark was being neglectful. Sammy and his neighbor, Jon, were seducing each other. Spending time, listening to each other, doing things together. 

I knew if a novella wasn’t to have a subplot, the diversions needed to focus on neediness. These scenes about Sammy involved two neighbors, Jon, the new love interest, and Ms. Ledford, an elderly woman who lived above Sammy. These scenes were constructed to explain how we can be supportive of each other’s needs without compromising ourselves. There is a lot that I love about those sections. However, after hiring a second editor to help me, I decided that these sections didn’t enhance the experience for the reader. I cut them and read it and saw that the novella was much more focused on the themes.

Yes, themes. By this time, I realized I needed to include another theme: self-reflection. This would be a minor theme but was a must. Mark couldn’t undergo any change without self-reflection. This also helped me get into the Fates more.

What of those Fates? They also went through a small transformation. Each of the Fates represents a time: Parcae, the past, Clotho, the future, and Moirae the present. They have another sister Clymene, who is the Goddess of Spirituality and became important to support the theme of self-reflection. Initially, they were a jumbled mess. I had to sit down and create the rules. Things like, when Parcae arrives in the present, she doesn’t know anything about the modern world; Moirae can’t remember things that happened in the past; and Clotho can jump around in all possible futures. This was important as I felt that freewill would be a part of a Southern mythology due to Christianity’s hold on the South. Therefore, Clotho would have to be able to see all possibilities of what would happen when we make a choice. Initially in the novella, the Fates made those choices by weaving the future in the tapestry which represented the person. Freewill needed to be stronger, so I had to change Clotho a little. She can’t remember details of the future, but knows which choices would be best to present to someone for them to choose. 

All of this took place over about ten years. I’d work on it a while, set it aside, and then come back to it when the Muse instructed. 

Balancing the Weave - M.W. Lee

M.W. Lee has a new MM fantasy romance out: Balancing the Weave.

For Mark, Pride weekend in Yamasee County, South Carolina, means spending the day with friends, flirting with the out-of-town men, finding a romance, drinking too much, and enjoying all of Pride. However, the Fates have arrived to address a hole which appeared in the tapestry representing Mark, his past, and his present, which will direct him to the future.

Throughout the day, the Fates confront Mark with memories both pleasant and painful about his former lover Sammy. Parcae uses her goddess tools to manipulate Mark’s thoughts so he remembers fun dates, fights, issues which make him uncomfortable, and accusations of being needy. Was it Sammy’s neediness that caused Mark to end the relationship? Or was Mark the needy companion? When Sammy once said Mark ain’t needy, what did he mean?

Can the goddesses help Mark work through these memories so his self-evaluation can lead to better relationships in the future?

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Excerpt

Balancing the Weave meme - M.W. Lee

Parcae stood to stretch her legs while allowing Mark time to reflect about what he just remembered while she strategized her next affront.

Mark refused to consider the significance of the memory, choosing instead to attempt to hide in sleep.

Parcae considered. It seems to me that if left alone, his memory inclines toward dishonesty. In lying to himself, he can’t or won’t learn. He needs to ask himself who he was in the relationship, but most importantly, who he was to Sammy. He needs to face this honestly.

She nosed about the room, acting like a nosy mother-in-law eavesdropping on the private conversation in the adjacent the next room.

“I wonder,” she spoke out loud to Mark, “why did Sammy date you?”

Mark though for a moment before replying, I liked his sense of humor.

Parcae sighed. “That’s you, not him.”

I’m good-looking.

“You going to include dick size too, shallow man?” Parcae snapped. “I asked why he—” she stressed the he “—dated you.”

I don’t know why he dated me. We never talked about it, Mark thought, matching her snappy tone.

“Yes, you did. Remember, after you’d been dating for a couple of months, he told you.”

Mark searched for the memory without finding it, so he remained still, his mind becoming blank.

Parcae ambled about the room, swishing her crinolines, which sounded like children playing in piles of dead autumn leaves. The sound cleared the air around Mark, and he felt the pinch of crisp autumn evenings, smelled the scents of autumn, burning leaves, warm cider, and funnel cakes. Mark’s memory opened and brought him back to the first Friday in October, when he and Sammy decided on an impromptu date to ride rides, play bad carnival games, and eat junk food at the Big Seven County Fair.

A smile came across Mark’s face, which Parcae noticed and approved. Instead of allowing him to rely on his own memory to show his past, she created a vivid memory so that she could observe how the memory touched him.

“Exactly,” Parcae said. “A good memory. Good memories bring clarity to past relationships.”

Mark thought, How do they do that?

“Comparison,” Parcae said. “Who you were then compared to who you were when you broke up.”

As her crinolines swished, Mark’s memory cleared. Instead of a scene being replayed as a motion picture, the memory flashed a series of slides so that Mark experienced a photo album of their date at the fair. The view was that of the gods.

Mark observed –

Mark and Sammy laughing as Mark pressed against him on the scrambler. Sammy’s wide mouth created a half joking yet half fearful expression.

Mark commented, When the ride stopped, Sammy showed me that the mechanism hadn’t closed properly.

The next slide: Mark exaggerated a baseball pitch as he attempted the Milk Bottle Toss. Sammy stood with his hands in prayer position against his mouth with an exaggerated hopeful expression.

Mark thought, I could just be silly with him, and he’d join in.

The next slide: Both of them standing in line for the Spook House. Mark noticed his arm resting on Sammy’s shoulder, as if he were leaning on Sammy.

Mark observed, I was being affectionate but unsure because of the location. Sammy never seemed bothered.

The next slide: Mark saw them sitting at a small picnic table under a canopy at the Penniless Pig, sharing a large plate of loaded fries. The slide transformed to a motion picture.

“What were you doing on the swings?” Mark asked.

“Being silly,” Sammy laughed as he devoured some fries. “In Germany, riders get the swings to spin around, and they reach for each other, and push each other back and forth. It gets harder as the ride gets faster. I was trying to do that.”

“Is that allowed?” Mark asked.

“Don’t know,” Sammy said. “since all we do is sit, either it isn’t allowed or no one’s thought of it. But … um …” Sammy paused.

Mark noticed Sammy glancing away, smiling, embarrassed, in that special kind of embarrassment when the lover admits he likes the beloved. On the sofa, Mark recognized his heart’s increase of excitement.

“Well,” Sammy continued, “Sometimes a couple would reach out and grab hands and pull each other closer. I was attempting to be romantic.”

“Did you want to hold hands?” Mark asked affectionately, without a hint of mockery.


Author Bio

M.W. Lee

M.W. Lee studied English at Limestone University in South Carolina, and DePaul University in Illinois. He has led many lives, as an adjunct professor, data entry clerk, ESA teacher in Saudi Arabia. Currently, he has a new day career as an HIV case manager with the Hawaii Health and Harm Reduction Center. His personal essay, “The Sea and Debussy” appeared in the on-line journal The Scarlet Leaf Review in October 2021.

Lee works during the day and writes at night. “Balancing the Weave” is his first published novella. He enjoys reading a wide range of fiction; however, space operas, dystopian, and post-apocalyptic fiction are his favorites. He is currently writing a crime novel.

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

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Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Balancing-Weave-M-W-Lee-ebook/dp/B0BVHHCWBM/

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Chantz by Tim Rayborn Blog Tour and Excerpt

Reality wasn’t what it used to be.

One moment, everything was fine. Just a normal, run-of-the-mill indie goth alternative rock show at the Leeds University Union on a Sunday afternoon in late April. Just a young band singing about the most angsty issues of the moment, playing less-than-commercial music that was a cut above the usual pop twaddle. Nothing out of the ordinary, really.  

But then, things got decidedly odd, downright bizarre. Up was down, or maybe it was just an inverted up? The walls were closing in, or were they falling away very close by? It got very dark, almost brightly so. And the intense volume of the music was almost inaudible. If this was a part of the show, it was damned strange, but strangely appealing.

The band in question, the Mystic Wedding Weasels, was making something of a splash recently, and the hall was packed with young fans eager to soak up their particular brand of musical peculiarity, most notably in the figure of their enigmatic singer. And she seemed to be the source of this sudden oddness. At least, twelve-year-old witch Jilly Pleeth thought so.

Jilly couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see her favorite new band live, and she’d invited her friend Lluck along for the experience. He was half-human, half Indian Fae, all teenage attitude, and could affect the laws of probability in his favor. So, not your typical fourteen-year-old. She’d met him last winter during a rather crazy adventure involving an ancient Germanic forest spirit that wanted to eat his heart; as one does. Also, his long-lost mum was now dating Jilly’s best friend, a shadow with glowing red eyes; it’s a rather long and strange story.

In any case, returning to the matter at hand, everything had been as expected for the first few songs, when things shifted into all sorts of odd and back, but what was happening?

“Did you see that?” Jilly asked Lluck over the din of the current song, something about feeling dreadful in the face of ultimate despair.

“See what?” he half-shouted back at her.

“You didn’t notice how everything just went all… funny for a bit?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Everything just changed!”

“Changed how? What are you on about?”

“Something crazy strange is going on. It doesn’t feel normal.”

“All right, Ms. Witchy, I’ll take your word for it. But strange is the new normal these days, anyway, so who cares? Can we just watch the show, please?”

Jilly didn’t answer, but she remained unsettled. She turned her attention back to the singer, Chantz, at least that’s what she called herself. Jilly didn’t know her real name, if she had one. She looked to be in her early twenties, sported long black hair (with a streak of green-dyed tresses cascading down the right side of her head) and the obligatory black vestments: black dress, fishnets, black Doc Marten boots, long and wispy black shirt, open and trailing about her. But her voice was the real draw. It was enchanting, captivating; it drew in Jilly like a… spell. Jilly scrunched up her nose in that way that she always did when alarm bells went off in her head. Well, perhaps they were more like wind chimes.

She grabbed Lluck by the arm and yelled into his ear. “It’s magic!”

“Yeah, it’s all right isn’t it?” He bobbed his head up and down in time with the song.

She rolled her eyes. “No, you nitwit! Not the show, the singer.”

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Chantz - Tim Rayborn

Tim Rayborn has a new queer urban fantasy out (bi, lesbian), Qwyrk Tales book 3: Chantz.

Qwyrk can’t get a break. Spring is springing, but she’s stuck breaking up drunken faery fights as Beltane approaches. She really wants to take things to the next level with her possibly-probably-girlfriend Holly, but she keeps coming down with a chronic case of chickening out.

And now, her best human friend, Jilly Pleeth, has had a rather odd encounter. While attending a concert by her favorite band, the Mystic Wedding Weasels, Jilly was amazed by their enigmatic singer, Chantz. There’s something downright magical about her voice, something so magical that an evil force from outside this world wants her for nefarious reasons. But will Chantz succumb to its lure?

Chantz is the third in a series of four novels about the comic misadventures of a group of misfits at the edge of normal reality in modern northern England, a world of shadows, Nighttime Nasties, eldritch screaming horrors, appalling neo-Shakespearean sonnets, undead corvids, an abundance of verbal sparring, and… Qwyrk is not an elf, all right? They’re just silly!

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Excerpt

Chantz meme - Tim Rayborn

After a few minutes of meandering on campus, she found a rather expansive and tree-filled enclosure marked by a sign reading “Welcome to St. George’s Field.” Seeing as she could lose herself in its trees, this place would suffice. Wandering in, she found herself strolling through a historic cemetery, which appealed to her gothy aesthetic sensibilities. She sat herself down on a stone bench not far from some centuries-old headstones and tried to focus, to think, to something.

She closed her eyes, trying to recall the feeling of the power flowing through her.

“What are you?” she whispered.

For a time, she felt nothing. Sighing in frustration, she opened her eyes. The field was mercifully unpopulated today, so she decided to risk singing a little tune, an old Irish folk song. She couldn’t remember where she’d learned it. She couldn’t remember much of anything before the last couple of years, to be honest. But there it was, stuck in her head, so she called on it.

It was a simple melody with a short verse and a chorus. She didn’t even know all the words, but that didn’t matter. She just sang the bit she knew over and over. It was soothing, comforting, and connected her to something, as if stirring a memory. She closed her eyes again, allowing it to wash over her. For the first time in a while, she formed a genuine smile. Not a big smile, mind you, she did have her reputation to think of, after all.

As she neared the third repeat, something happened. She heard a voice in her head, one that contrasted with her own. It was more like a momentary flash of sound, in a language she didn’t recognize. It didn’t make her stop singing; in fact, she wanted to continue. After she sang another verse or two, and she heard it again, like a call across some great gap. But was it far away in the distance? Or maybe in time?

How does that even make any sense?

Intrigued, she kept singing, but lowered her voice so as not to attract any onlookers. It would be just like someone to come up in the middle of it and ruin the whole experience, with their chattiness and insipid curiosity.

As it turned out, she was indeed interrupted, but not by any passersby who should have been minding their own business. In her mind’s eye, she saw a face. The face of an old woman. She had long, disheveled grey-streaked hair, and her complexion was wan and weathered, with dark shadows under her eyes. There was almost something cool about her. The face was obscured, as if peering through a fog, and Moirin couldn’t gauge its intent. She wasn’t imagining it; her imagination was good, but not this good. The woman opened her mouth as if to say something, but no words emerged, and if she were the one speaking those foreign words, Moirin wouldn’t have understood her, anyway.

The old woman smiled, but it was an odd smile, and not really a happy one, more like sinister grin. She seemed to want something from Moirin. The smile grew bigger and stretched to unnatural proportions. Her eyes began to lighten, not just the pupils, but the whole of her eyes, greying at first and then fading into a milky white.

Moirin’s heart raced. She stopped singing and gasped. Whatever this thing was, she wanted nothing to do with it. She tried to open her eyes, but they were heavy, almost as if she’d been drugged. Her ears seemed to close up, and the world around her disappeared. She shook her head and tried to stand up, but just like her eyes, her legs no longer worked. She started to panic and opened her mouth again, not to sing but to scream, shout for help, something. But no sound escaped.

The face sneered at her, perhaps enjoying her helplessness. It became ever more twisted and grotesque and opened its mouth again, almost in mockery of Moirin’s inability to do so. A low-pitched wailing sounded from the old woman, a mournful call that seemed to portend something awful. It rose in pitch and volume to a full-on cry, a tuneless and wordless plaint that sounded like something out of an older time. It shook Moirin to the core, but the more she heard it, the more it seemed to invite her, to draw her in, even to tempt her. Whatever the ill intent of this creature invading her mind, and however frightening its call, Moirin felt oddly at home. She began to surrender to its lure, to its awful and seductive pull.


Author Bio

Tim Rayborn

Tim Rayborn has written an astonishing number of books over the past several years. He lived in England for quite some time and has a PhD from the University of Leeds, which he likes to pretend means that he knows what he’s talking about. His generous output of written material covers topics such as music, the arts, history, the strange and bizarre, fantasy and sci-fi, and general knowledge.

He’s also an acclaimed musician. He plays dozens of unusual instruments that quite a few people of have never heard of and often can’t pronounce. He has appeared on over forty recordings, and his musical wanderings and tours have taken him across the US, all over Europe, to Canada and Australia, and to such romantic locations as Marrakech, Istanbul, Renaissance chateaux, medieval churches, and high school gymnasiums.

He currently lives in Washington state (where it rains a lot), surrounded by many books and instruments, as well as with a sometimes-demanding cat. He is rather enthusiastic about good wines, and cooking excellent food.

Author Website: https://timrayborn.com/

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

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Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/rayborn.esoterica/

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BLOG TOUR + Exclusive Excerpt: Mary Rundle’s “Darkness Master”, Book 10 in the Blackwood Pack Series

I am so honored to share this exclusive excerpt from author Mary Rundle’s “Darkness Master”, the 10th book in the Blackwood Pack series. I hope you will all enjoy this as part of OWI’s latest blog tour.


DARKNESS MASTER AUDIO/Mary Rundle

Hi, I’m Mary Rundle and thank you so much for hosting me as part of my audiobook blog tour for Darkness Master, Book 10 in the Blackwood Pack series and narrated by award-winning Nick J. Russo. Today I have an exclusive excerpt from the book where Fated Mates, Alex, Sawyer, and Glenn, eventually find each other along with their HEA in a story full of startling twists, turns, and adventures. Please enjoy! 

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“You know, I never expected to find my mate, even after my brother found his. Mainly because I don’t have anything to offer a mate. My twin got all the brains, Robin got all the talent, Hunter is a born leader, Mason is a genius when it comes to numbers…so you see, all I have is my…my…”

“Your ability to learn quickly?” murmured Alex.

“Pfff…right, my ability to learn quickly, which, if yesterday was any indication, it’s not something I can count on anymore.”

“Are you giving up already?” asked Alex.

“Honestly? I’m not sure and that’s a feeling I’m not used to. If you ask my brothers, they’ll say I’m easygoing…and they’re right…to a point. Hunter told me I was asleep when I was born. He said I looked like I didn’t have a care in the world.”

“But that’s not true, is it?” Alex asked.

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Pausing for a moment, Sawyer replied, “What do you mean?”

Alex’s fear kicked in again. Challenging an alpha wasn’t a good thing, something he learned early on. Calling on his fox’s hearing, he listened for any indication Sawyer was getting ready to attack him for his insolence. When all he heard was his mate’s even breathing, he let out the breath he was holding. But now he was once again unsure how to go on. Shifting from foot to foot, he weighed the options: whether to answer honestly or be polite and make up a harmless lie that would placate Sawyer.

The lack of response from Alex was unsettling, making Sawyer lean his forehead against the door. He was surprised at his mate’s question, wondering how he already knew so much about him; only Mac knew his easygoing attitude was hiding his insecurity. All through his youth, he was always the forgotten one. With nothing making him unique, he was stuck in the middle between Mac and Robin, both of whom outshone him. Oh, he knew his parents loved him, but they didn’t fuss over him like they did when Robin wrote another song, or Mac aced all of his tests. Once again he found himself lacking, but this time, the pain pierced his heart when he realized Alex’s decision to reject him was because his mate had figured out who he really was. 

Tears formed in his eyes as Sawyer ran his hands over the door. There would be no mate for him…no one who believed in him…no one who would find something worthy in him and, more importantly, no happily-ever-after Quin believed in so strongly. The Fates fucked up and now he was left to pick up the pieces and move on. Snorting softly at that idea, Sawyer knew it would take a long time to get over this rejection, if ever, because he wasn’t going to get another chance. No, that much he knew…there was only one fated mate.

Brushing aside his tears, Sawyer stood up, trying to get himself under control. Glancing up through the tree leaves surrounding the campsite, he let out a sob, cursing the soul-destroying pain in his chest. Losing a mate he never expected to have shouldn’t hurt so much, but it did and he wondered how he’d survive it. Alone, far from the family he needed right now, but that, too, he’d fucked up on. The irony wasn’t lost on him. He knew his sorrow would cause his twin to feel concern. Mac! I need Mac! But his brother was busy with his own life, while Sawyer had been cast adrift, left behind…someone who had nothing to offer his mate. And the worse part was he had no one to blame but himself. Shaking his head, Sawyer stepped away from the trailer, stopping briefly only when his wolf howled for his mate. Then he slowly walked away from the campsite, heading for his motorhome. 

Lifting his hand to cover his mouth when he heard Sawyer’s cry, Alex knew his silence had caused his mate’s pain. Sorrow coursed through him, and tears began to fall at the hurt he had inflicted. It wasn’t who he was—and yet, it was—all because he’d allowed his fear to get the better of him. The snap of a twig alerted Alex that his mate was now further away from the trailer. Turning around, he moved the curtain slightly, peeking outside to find where Sawyer was, only to see the back of his mate heading toward the woods. Grabbing his chest as the deep pain of his mate leaving nearly cleaved his heart in two, he fell to his knees, making his fox keen for the loss. He couldn’t let it happen. Why, he didn’t know, but somehow, he knew letting Sawyer go would be the worst decision of his life. He rose, then taking a deep breath, he opened the door. Stepping outside, he called out, “Alex…my name is Alex Fouché.”

Bookbaby.com helps independent authors bring their creative vision to the marketplace. Sell eBooks online in the biggest retail stores. Darkness Master audio - Mary Rundle

Mary Rundle has a new MM parnormal audio romance out: Darkness Master.

This is part of a continuing series by Amazon International Bestselling Author, Mary Rundle – reading the previous titles is advised. Readers will enjoy catching up with members of the Blackwood Pack and reading about what is happening to them as the pack does what it does best ̶ caring for one another and helping shifters everywhere.

Pursuing his dream, Sawyer heads to LA for some sun, waves and surfing lessons. After a disappointing day of surfing, he heads back to his campsite and meets Alex, his Fated Mate, who runs away, valuing his freedom more than anything else.

After the death of his wealthy, domineering father, Alex is can finally shed a lifetime of restrictions. Leaving New York City, he sets out on a long, cross-country RV trip, unaware that an overnight stop in a Los Angeles campground will yield not one Fated Mate, but two! Shocked at meeting Sawyer, Alex rejects him, vowing never to be under the thumb of any Alpha mate.

Glenn, a career secret agent, is also in LA to seek help from his friend, Ghost, a surfing instructor, in his quest to find who is responsible for kidnapping Glenn’s mother and other rare shifters. After meeting up with Ghost, Glenn discovers his Fated Mate is Sawyer, his friend’s current surfing student.

After the three mates finally meet, each has to face up to some hard facts about their past and present lives before coming to an understanding that leads them to find love and happiness with each other.

Astounding surprises, rare and unique gifts, an action-packed mission, and many unexpected twists and turns make this passionate love story by Mary Rundle impossible to put down once you’ve read the first page.

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Excerpt

Darkness Master

Sawyer studied his mate, wondering why Alex kept bringing it up until it suddenly dawned on him. “Hey…if you’re worried about not being a wolf, trust me, it won’t matter to any of my brothers…just like no one cared that Hunter’s mate is a dragon.”

Alex’s eyes widened. “A dragon? Really?”

“Yup…so you see…it won’t be a problem,” Sawyer said, setting his fork down. “So you’re a fellow New Yorker. How did you end up in California?”

Shrugging, Alex studied his empty plate. “I wanted to see what was beyond the place I grew up in.”

“Hey, I get that…it’s why I decided to look at the bright side when my brother said we were going to visit our cousins.”

Looking up sharply, Alex asked, “You haven’t gone anywhere either?”

“Nope…well, I did live in California when I was very young, but my father moved us back east when he took over our pack from his father…so I really don’t remember much from that time.”

“And you haven’t traveled since then?” asked Alex.

“Uh-uh. I didn’t go to college like some of my brothers and my father never brought me along when he traveled for pack business…so, nope, the trip out here was pretty much my first time anywhere.”

“Do you like it? You know…traveling?” asked Alex.

“Not the way Hunter did it. We drove straight through, and it was boring as shit…even though I tried to get him to stop along the way to see some of the touristy stuff.”

“Oh, I did that!”

“Oh yeah? Which was your favorite? Oh wait, I bet it was the giant ball of twine!” Sawyer exclaimed.

“What? No! Is there really such a thing?” asked Alex. Then, throwing his paper napkin at Sawyer while shaking his head, he said, “You’re full of bullshit.”

“Me? Never!” Sawyer exclaimed. “It’s in Cawker City, Kansas. Here…I’ll show you.” Opening his browser on his phone, he searched for it, then finding the site, Sawyer handed the phone over to his mate.

Quickly scanning the web site, Alex looked up and grinned. “That’s freaking amazing! And in August, there is a ‘Twine-a-thon’ where more twine is added to the ball.”

“Told ya.” Smirking, Sawyer took his phone back. “So, you missed that on your trip out here…so what did you see?”

Laughing, Alex said, “I was too busy stopping at national parks like the Grand Canyon. I spent almost a month there…it was just amazing. It’s so different when you are standing there in person, looking down and seeing millions of years of geological history, instead of looking at a photograph. I did all of the touristy stuff and then there were days, I just sat on the edge and stared at it, trying to commit it to memory. It truly is breathtaking.”

“I take it that’s your favorite place?” Sawyer asked.

“So far, it is…but then I haven’t seen the Redwoods yet,” grinned Alex.

“Me neither, even though they aren’t that far from my cousins’ place,” Sawyer said, gathering up their dishes. “What are your plans for today?”

Frowning slightly, Alex considered his mate’s question. What he was going to do was head to see the Pacific Ocean because he wanted to see if it was different from the Atlantic Ocean. When he left New York, he arrived in Cape May just in time to find himself on the outskirts of a tropical storm. Sitting on the beach, watching the wild waves crash ashore, Alex was mesmerized by the wind while watching the low hanging, heavy, gray clouds move across the sky. It spoke to his soul like nothing else ever had. The next day, after the storm had passed, he went back, but this time sat in the water among the steel-gray waves as they tumbled ashore. He’d never experienced anything like it, and he ended up staying a week at the Jersey Shore, spending hours a day at the beach.

“Hey…hello, are you there?” asked Sawyer. “What’s on for today?”

Shaking his head slightly to clear the memories from his mind, Alex replied, “Today is a relaxation day. Since I spent the last two days driving, I planned on spending the day at the beach.”

“Sounds great…let me put this inside. Do you want me to drive, or would you rather do it?”

Grateful his mate had given him a choice, Alex said, “If you don’t mind, I’ll drive.”

“Not at all. Gimme a few minutes to change, okay?”

Waving his hand at the motorhome, Alex replied, “Go ahead…I’ll be right here.”

Giving his mate one of his trademark grins, Sawyer stood before grabbing the dishes and turning to head for his motorhome.

Alex stared at Sawyer’s ass, admiring the flexing muscles as his mate opened the door and climbed the stairs. Blocked from seeing anything more when the door closed, a low moan escaped from his throat as he tried to reign in his lust. It was something he’d never felt before. Wondering if the feeling had something to do with being fated mates, Alex cursed himself again for not paying more attention to his classmates’ whisperings after the lights went out. But in all fairness, he never expected to have a mate…especially because he was so odd. His mind flitted back to Sawyer, wondering if his mate knew what he was…and if he didn’t…should I tell him? And what happens when I do…will he reject me then? So maybe I should tell him right away so if he doesn’t want me, I can just leave and go to Palm Springs like I planned to.

NO! The rarely heard voice was so loud, Alex covered his ears as fire roared through his veins, removing any doubt about what to do. Glancing up at the motorhome door, he was surprised to find it still closed since he was certain Sawyer would have heard the voice. But when the door remained shut, Alex was relieved that his explanation could wait. Sighing, he knew it really didn’t matter when his mate found out because the results would be the same. No one ever wanted him…not even his father…and it would be the same with Sawyer. Imagining the disgust on his mate’s face when the truth came out, Alex never heard the door open.


Author Bio

Mary Rundle logo

A few years ago, I wrote my first book, Dire Warning. Readers loved it and I was on my way to chronicle the Blackwood Pack, seven brothers who are gay wolf shifters in search of their fated mates—stories about love at first sight with twists and turns, angst and humor, romance and adventure and, of course, happy endings. Since then, the pack has expanded, allowing more stories to be told and different paranormals to be included. The series has become, as one reader described it…an “Epic Saga.”

Now, eleven books later, Blood Prophecy, has just been published. I love the M/M paranormal genre because it gives my imagination a lot of territory in which to roam. My mind can really run wild and come up with some amazing stuff when it doesn’t have to stay inside the box. My story ideas come to me as if they were being channeled by my characters, all of whom I love (except for a few villains). They are eager to recount their lives, loves and adventures, and are not reluctant to let it all out when it comes to revealing steamy details. My writing style is free-wheeling and uninhibited and my readers tell me they love it that way; that it makes them feel like they’re right in on the action and a member of the Blackwood Pack.

I live in the Northeast and love the beautiful change of seasons, my husband, and our quirky calico cat, though not necessarily in that order. I read a lot (good for the mind) and love gardening (good for the soul). And I’m always happy to hear from my readers and can be reached through Facebook, my private Facebook Group, Twitter, Instagram, or my website.

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

Author Facebook (Personal): https:// www.facebook.com/maryrundle69

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

Author Twitter: https://twitter.com/MaryRundle69

Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/maryrundle69

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14246427.Mary_Rundle

Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/mary-rundle/

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Mary-Rundle/e/B0763CDQQ6/

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Blog Tour: McShayne’s Elf by Nicole Dennis (OWI Blog Tours)

McShayne's Elf - Nicole Dennis

Nicole Dennis has a new MM fantasy paranormal romance out, McShayne Bloodline book 2: McShayne’s Elf. And there’s a giveaway.

A Realm falls to the darkness.

An outcast because of his mixed heritage, Braedyn of the Dark, Captain of the Royal Shields and protector of the Prince of the Southern Woodland Realm, maintains his position through sheer grit and skill. Connected to a hawk familiar, Cerin, his magic is a mixture of Arcane and wielding. At the High King’s orders, he remains by his Prince’s side through a treacherous journey through the Lands to discover answers and a new home.

Losing his Realm, his parents, and his position in one-night, High Prince Conchobar Ó Díomasaigh is completely out of his familiarity. Running for his life, relying only on his protector and Captain, he digs deep to survive their trials, the growing darkness, and go wherever they must to save their Realm. At the same time, he sees his Captain in a different light and the deepening connection between them

Strange adventures. New allies. Growing connections. Can they survive this wild journey to save the elves, the Realm, and their lives?

About the Series:

Magic passed through ancient bloodlines for generations. A powerful family gifted with a blend of Elf, Fae, and Human magic, the McShaynes watched over the balance of nature. While the Otherkin receded from any mortal connection, the McShaynes refuse to leave their ancestral lands. Until the humans turn against magic.

Four McShayne sons spread across the Lands. Each one fears he is the last. They fight to survive the harsh atmosphere, maintain their bloodline gifts, and discover love and the true meaning of family.

Get It at Amazon


Giveaway

Nicole is giving away an $10 Amazon gift card with this tour:

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Excerpt

McShayne's Elf meme

Streaks of fire raced through the sky.

The ground rumbled beneath his feet.

A half-breed elf crouched against the nearest wall to wait out the current round of bombardment.

While the multi-layered and intricate braids denoted all the years of study, training, and practice to gain the skills of an archer, a scout, a tracker, and a soldier, the color of his hair and skin discredited his position. Among the elves of the Southern Woodland Realm, Braedyn of the Dark was an anomaly, a half-breed, and, according to some, not wanted. With every single step or skill he accomplished, he pushed himself even further and harder than everyone around him. Not even the three platinum charms decorating a raven black braid that denoted his position as Captain of the Royal Shields for the High Prince of the Court gained him any support. No matter what anyone said or thought, he continued to perform his duties, going above and beyond to protect his prince and the Realm.

Tonight the elves faced their gravest threat.

Though he should remain behind to protect the Prince, Braedyn followed his King’s orders to moved toward the front lines. His prince understood and allowed him to leave his side to perform his duties and learn what he could. If possible, he would help the defenders. Stepping away, he continued his journey to the barrier walls.

“To the sky!” a look-out shouted to alert everyone.

Ducking under a roof’s edge, Braedyn pressed against the stone and wood while staring at the darkened sky. It was lit by the fires that spread around their beloved Southern Nialam Forest and within the double-walled city. Another series of sharp-tipped arrows flickered while they pierced the night sky.

Screams spread through the darkness. Defenders hit by the arrows. Slain by this unknown enemy.

Braedyn tried to block out the sounds, but he couldn’t.

The invasive attack of the unnatural creatures came out of nowhere and surrounded the double-walled city. Only the small section of sacred western wall against the lowland mountain where the ancestors created the necropolis, the pathway to the Endless Realm, was naturally protected. There was little to no advance warning of these creatures plowing through the forest.

There was a flurry of misguided and scattered action around him from frightened defenders. They never faced this kind of enemy. None of their usual tactics and weapons seem to destroy their enemy, not even push them back. As if the creatures were immune from their natural magic and simple weapons.

A group of young guards fled.

Braedyn waved around his sacred bow, a rare gift of the twin Heartstone Trees. The twisted black and white wooden bow was gifted to the highest skilled archers and personally selected by the Trees. Holding out the bow, he moved it to catch their attention and stop them from fleeing. “Stop! What are you doing? Fleeing from your sworn duty to protect this court, this Realm. Shame upon all of you.”

At the twisted light and dark colored bow, brilliant against the darkness, the young guards slid to a stop.

“A Heartstone bow,” one guard whispered.

“A high archer…”

“Him. It’s him. The half-breed Captain.”

Braedyn ignored the whispers.

“Do you know that one nick of an arrow and you drop dead? Those creatures don’t die. They keep coming out of the forest and night,” one young guard said. “This is why we flee. There is nothing we can do. We must leave the court.”

“All the generals are dead or out of commission. Somehow the enemy knew to find them within the darkness. The outer walls are lost. The southern corner is about to crumble. Some of those creatures are cave trolls or ogres, but it’s like they’re twisted into something else, something far worse. They’re huge. Nothing kills them,” another guard said.

Braedyn looked around at what he could by the walls. He let the words and situation soak into him and roll around. No, they wouldn’t give in and flee. Not this time. Not this battle.

“Sons of the Realm. Listen to me.” He spun the bow and tapped the metal end on the ground. He pointed to the guard who spoke first. “What is your name?”

“Geraint Fenkrana, Guard Commander.

“Commander Geraint, I have a new position for all of you,” Braedyn said. “Focus upon me.”

The group turned to face him with Geraint stepping forward. Their faces bright against the darkness with swatches of dirt and soot. The lightness of their hair, skin, and eyes were a contrast against him, but they didn’t look upon him with hatred or disgust. Not any longer because he continued to stand against the fearsome enemy that threatened their home and lives. They desired leadership and he fulfilled it.


Author Bio

Nicole Dennis

Dreamy…Sensual…Forever Love

A quiet one, Nicole Dennis is the penname of an asexual author of different genres of fiction – both LGBT+ and hetero. Lots of characters, worlds, and stories build up in her head until she must get them down on the screen – anything from romance to fantasy to paranormal.

During the day, she works in a quiet office in Central Florida, where she makes her home, and enjoys the down time to slip into her imagination. She is owned by a new feline companion – a house panther, affectionately known as Brat Cat.

Author Website: http://nicoledennis.net

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

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

Author Mastadon: https://mastodon.lol/@nicoledennis

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2791975.Nicole_Dennis

Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/nicole-dennis/

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/author/nicoledennis

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Skythane: Liminal Sky: Oberon Cycle Book 1 by J. Scott Coatsworth Review

I received a free copy of this book in exchange for a fair and honest review. All opinions are my own. 

Two unlikely travelers find themselves on a doomed world and together must uncover the hidden truths that bind this world together before it falls apart completely, and in the process find what binds their lives together as well, in author J. Scott Coatsworth’s “Skythane: Liminal Sky”, the first book in the Oberon Cycle series. 

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The Synopsis

Jameson Havercamp, a psych from a conservative religious colony, has come to Oberon—unique among the Common Worlds—in search of a rare substance called pith. He’s guided through the wilds on his quest by Xander Kinnison, a handsome, cocky wing man with a troubled past.

Neither knows that Oberon is facing imminent destruction. Even as the world starts to fall apart around them, they have no idea what’s coming—or the bond that will develop between them as they race to avert a cataclysm.

Together, they will journey to uncover the secrets of this strange and singular world, even as it takes them beyond the bounds of reality itself to discover what truly binds them together.

Bookbaby.com helps independent authors bring their creative vision to the marketplace. Sell eBooks online in the biggest retail stores.

The Review

I was immediately struck by the sheer volume of world-building and mythology the author was able to cement into this narrative. The in-depth history and futuristic cultures that develop in this universe of the author’s creation not only impacted the story but the character development as well. The rich setting and action-packed scenes helped elevate the tension and intrigue that settled over the cast of characters as this world came to a boiling point just ready to blow up in their faces. 

What really sold this story though was the rich character development that the author was able to find with these characters. The way these two protagonists are thrust into the heat of battle and adrenaline-fueled action sets the tone for their journey, and the way in which their bond develops and grows as they start on their path of destiny made the story just sing volumes of the author’s creativity. 

The Verdict

Captivating, exhilarating, and thrilling, author J. Scott Coatsworth’s “Skythane: Liminal Sky” is a great first book in the Oberon Cycle series and a rich novel to dive headfirst into. The way the author was able to find the perfect harmonious flow between both sci-fi and fantasy tropes and make the world feel both magical and otherworldly all at once was a great backdrop to the emotional bond these two characters brought together. If you haven’t yet, be sure to grab your copy today!

Rating: 10/10

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Skythane (audio)

J. Scott Coatsworth has a new MM sci-fi romance audiobook out, Oberon Cycle book one: Skythane. And there’s a giveaway.

Jameson Havercamp, a psych from a conservative religious colony, has come to Oberon—unique among the Common Worlds—in search of a rare substance called pith. He’s guided through the wilds on his quest by Xander Kinnison, a handsome, cocky wing man with a troubled past.

Neither knows that Oberon is facing imminent destruction. Even as the world starts to fall apart around them, they have no idea what’s coming—or the bond that will develop between them as they race to avert a cataclysm.

Together, they will journey to uncover the secrets of this strange and singular world, even as it takes them beyond the bounds of reality itself to discover what truly binds them together.

Warnings: past abuse, past suicidal ideation.

About the Series:

Oberon is unique among the Common Worlds – a half-world with a strange past and an uncertain future.

Jameson Havercamp and Xander Kinnson are thrust into the middle of a world-ending event and have to scramble to save the world – and themselves.

Along the way, they peel back the layers of the onion to discover secrets wrapped in secrets that will eventually take them to where it all started – and may provide the key to saving Oberon and everyone on it.

Get It On Amazon | Universal Buy Link

Print/eBook Links:

Amazon Kindle | Barnes and Noble Nook | Apple Books | Kobo | Payhip | Scribd | Thalia | Smashwords | Vivlio


Giveaway

Scott is giving away a signed print first edition of the trilogy to one lucky winner:

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Audio Excerpt:

Prologue


Excerpt:

Skythane Meme - Wicked Faerie

Xander’s bike flew over the crowded streets of Oberon City. It was midmorning, as far as Jameson could tell from the slanting rays of sunshine over the city.

The wind whipped through his hair, making a rat’s nest of it. He was going to look a mess when he arrived at the OberCorp Headquarters, but there was nothing to be done for it. He mollified himself with the thought that it was the company representative’s fault.

Jameson clung to Xander’s waist, uncomfortable at being so close to the other man, but terrified all the same to loosen his grip. The man’s wings settled in around him like a feathered blanket.

Xander Kinnson had wings—he was a skythane man.

Sure, the whole wings thing had been in the briefing, but reading it and seeing it in person were two very different things. They were beautiful, running up from his shoulder blades into the sky when he had them extended, and powerful. The dark feathers glimmered with an iridescent sheen in the sunlight.

Jameson didn’t think he would have the courage to fly—hoverbike flight was unnerving enough. And yet… wings.

They whipped past heavy armored transports and automated delivery trucks that rode the streets below them, mixed in with pedestrians and even some wagons and rickshaws, as strange an assortment of traffic as he had ever seen in one place.

“We’re going to Oberon Corp Headquarters, right?” he shouted at Xander over the noise. He hated shouting.

“What?” Xander shouted back.

“OberCorp Headquarters?”

“Sorry. Can’t hear you!”

Jameson gave up. He settled in to observe the city around him.

The huge arcos formed a virtual blue metallic wall ahead that began to block out the sunlight as the hoverbike moved closer. They were impressive in their uniformity, reminding him of the statues of Easter Island he’d visited during his trip to Old Earth.

From this vantage point, the city seemed much bigger than it had looked from the shuttle flying in, but outside of the impressive architecture of the arcos, the rest of Oberon City was made up of much less impressive, shorter buildings, with the tallest of these topping out around fifteen stories. They were in varied states of decay, with broken windows and rusted stanchions, some of them overrun by wild vines. The city looked like it was badly in need of an urban renewal project—a few buildings were in such bad shape that Jameson was amazed they hadn’t already collapsed under their own weight.

After about fifteen minutes, Xander’s bike slowly dipped down to the ground, coming to a landing between a couple of low buildings. They arrived at a nondescript three-story, concrete-slab structure that would have fit into almost any urban cityscape. It was made entirely out of prefab plascreet panels like all the other ugly buildings around it.

Xander palmed a sensor next to the metal roll-up door and it chugged up noisily, revealing a storage space maybe three meters wide by about three times that length deep. He pulled the bike inside and parked it, beckoning for Jameson to dismount.

Jameson did as he was told, though he was starting to get worried. When it came right down to it, he knew nothing about this man, having taken Xander at his word that he really was a representative of OberCorp.

How could he know for sure?

The idea nagged at him.

The man might be a pirate who preyed upon unsuspecting arrivals at the immigration center. He certainly fit the profile—standoffish, antisocial, certain he was always right. Jameson had seen that many times before in his practice. Then again, most sociopaths were more social.

At least he’d made it to the city now. It might be best to get out of here and find his own way to OberCorp.

Jameson started to back slowly out of the storage unit, away from Xander. He could make a run for it.

“Stay right there,” Xander said without turning, his voice sharp. “This is a bad part of town. It’s dangerous, especially for off-worlders who don’t know any better.”

Jameson looked out onto the street nervously. Oberon City was a lot grittier at ground level than it had appeared from the shuttle—the pavement looked petrochemical based, and it was uneven and black, so different from the beautiful marble streets back on Beta Tau. Some dark fluid flowed in fits and starts down the gutters, and it gave off a nasty smell: part urine, part hydrocarbons, part rotting food.

He was overdressed for such squalor. “Are there any good parts?” He stepped back inside with a sniff.

Xander snorted. He’d set aside Jameson’s suitcase, and was now rummaging around through some plas containers at the back of the storage unit. He pulled out something and threw it over the back of the bike.

It looked like the saddlebags that Jameson’s parents used with horses on their estate to carry supplies or foodstuffs for picnics or hunting trips into the Holywood.

Xander pulled out a knife and used it to pry open Jameson’s suitcase, setting off the luggage’s alarm. Xander snarled and kicked it until the sound died down to an irritated chirp.

“Hey… what are you doing?” Jameson reached out to stop him, but Xander pushed him back, knife in hand. “You can’t wear that where we’re going.” He indicated Jameson’s clothing with the same disdain Jameson himself had used for the hoverbike. He rummaged through the clothes in the suitcase. “None of this will do.” Xander turned to size Jameson up, head to toe. “I think I have something that will work.” He returned to going through the bins at the back of the unit.

“What do you mean, this won’t do? I’ve met with upper-level management in the Psych Guild on numerous occasions, dressed just like this—”

“We’re not meeting with management.” Xander returned with an armful of clothes. “Here, put these on.”

“I must insist that you take me to OberCorp Headquarters right now and—”

Xander dropped the new clothes on the dirty floor and ripped Jameson’s button-down shirt right up the middle, exposing his bare chest. His wings flared out behind him, and he gave Jameson an evil grin. “Change. Now.”

Jameson tried to stare him down, but there was an angry gleam in the man’s eyes that he decided he didn’t want to challenge. He lowered his eyes and picked up the new clothing. “Is there a place for me to change, at least?” He was not getting naked in front of this barbarian.


Author Bio

J. Scott Coatsworth

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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A Fire in the Shadows: A Bolingbrook Babbler Story 1.5 by William Brinkman Review

I received a free copy of this book in exchange for a fair and honest review. All opinions are my own.

A vampire targeted for her constantly developing feelings for others must protect the editor of a local town’s tabloid in a town known for supernatural and alien threats in author William Brinkman’s “A Fire in the Shadows”, the latest entry in A Bolingbrook Babbler Story series. 

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The Synopsis

Vampire, intelligence scout, paranormal protector, and emotional liability…

Bolingbrook has long been rumored to be a hub of paranormal and alien activity and Lydia should know—she’s a vampire. But that doesn’t mean she fits in. Not when she’s a target for other vampires and reliant on her blood family’s protection because of her inconvenient inclination to experience feelings.

Except right now, Lydia has bigger things to worry about than her recent rejection by a human or her blood sister Aurora’s relentless teasing. An army of weredeer are gathering near town and they need to gather intelligence fast.

When enforcers from one of Chicago’s vampire kingdoms threaten the Bolingbrook Babbler’s stunning chief editor, Aurora accuses Lydia of having feelings again. But even if Lydia does have a crush on the unsuspecting Sara, she deserves their protection.

Only Lydia hadn’t counted on how powerful their enemies are. Or the sort of unexpected revelations that will come to light if Lydia dares to risk rejection again…

Get a Fire in the Shadows to find out what Lydia is willing to risk.

Bookbaby.com helps independent authors bring their creative vision to the marketplace. Sell eBooks online in the biggest retail stores.

The Review

This was a fast-paced and exhilarating supernatural and sci-fi YA fantasy! The world-building and mythos that the author built into this series were evident immediately. The shadowy world that exists hidden from everyone else and the established feeling that the book has allowed readers to really feel the tense atmosphere and rich dynamics between the characters in this book.

The heart of the narrative definitely rested in the character development, something that was quick to come to life. The protagonist, a strong heroine who stands in stark contrast to her vampiric nature by harboring emotions, was so engaging to get lost in and made the story feel alive on the page as she not only fought for the people she feels for but struggled against the less than empathetic vampires she came across in her life. Beautifully, another standout in this book was how despite how established the setting felt, readers could delve into this book without prior reading of the series. 

The Verdict

Action-packed, entertaining, and haunting in its delivery, author William Brinkman’s “A Fire in the Shadows” is a great entry into the Bolingbrook Babbler Story series and a phenomenal YA Paranormal Fantasy. The quick pace of the plot and the rich world-building that helped cement this town and the supernatural hierarchy of things into the narrative helped the reader really build a rapport with the main cast of characters, and the unique foes that the protagonist faces made this a must-read novel. If you haven’t yet, preorder your copy today or pick a copy up on March 7th, 2023!

Rating: 10/10

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About the Author

William Brinkman is the creator of the Bolingbrook Babbler and is a member of the Freethought Blogs network. He’s also a board member of a humanistic Jewish congregation in the Chicago area.

He also contributed short stories and background material to White Wolf’s Demon the Fallen role-playing game.

He currently lives with his wife and two cats in the Chicagoland area.

Despite the current unrest in the world, he still believes that this world is all there is, and all we need. 

@williambrinkmanbb

My new book, A Fire in the Shadows: A Bolingbrook Babbler Story, launches on 3/7/23. Pre-order pending, but I still have ARC copies available. Leave a comment if you want to be an ARC reader. #newbookrelease #urbanfantasybooks #vampirebook #urbanfantasyauthor

♬ Paranormality (Dramatic Adventure Documentary Cinematic Thriller Detective) – Sasha_Grey

The Southern Magicks (The Southern Magicks Book One) by Ashton K. Rose Review and Author Interview

I received a free copy of this book in exchange for a fair and honest review. All opinions are my own.

After walking away from the world of magic they grew up in, one person is forced to work as an exorcist after being framed as a vigilante in author Ashton K. Rose’s “The Southern Magicks”, the first book in the series of the same name.

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The Synopsis

A month ago, a demon tore the thin veneer of a normal life I’d crafted apart when it almost killed me. Revealing my husband, Eli, as the prodigal son of a powerful magic family.

When I grew up, I walked away from magic. Left my remote hometown and pretended the ghosts Gran taught me to see weren’t there while I went to university to become a librarian.

Our one secret tightly held to my heart.

Never let them know!

Two years later, with no other financial option, I moved back to my small hometown.

It was easy to pretend the fuzzy gaps in my memory weren’t there as I got a job under the strict woman who almost killed my childhood love of books.

I thought everything was perfect when I married my dream guy.

Then the attack happened.

The “good” folks at the local magical law enforcement agency knew about me the whole time. They’ve pressured me to work for them as an exorcist because they’re convinced I was a vigilante who committed multiple murders. My odd, intriguing mentor Cory watches for any misstep as I avoid the seduction attempt he’s been asked to perform.

Now they’ve accused my estranged older brother of taking over my “crimes.” I know I was framed, despite the gaps in my memory.

The worst part?

The only people who seem to believe me are my friend June and my journalist cousin Kat.

Eli, filled with spite for the local magical rulers, seems to know something I DON’T and thinks I should play them at their own game and seduce my mentor, so we can interrogate him together…

The Southern Magicks is a small-town paranormal urban fantasy/mystery series with a M/M/NB menage romantic subplot. For fans of “The Dresden Files,” “Rivers of London,” “Southern Vampire Mysteries,” “Alex Verus,” and “The Laundry Files” who enjoy LGBTQ+ characters and stories.

The Review

The first thing that really impressed me and drew me into this narrative was the vastness of everything. The scope of the author’s narrative and world-building was astonishing, as the small-town setting bore witness to a grand mythos that sees clashing family dynasties and powerful supernatural beings all coming together in an explosive way. The balance the author found between the mundane and everyday activities that the protagonist saw and the gritty realities of the supernatural threats that come their way was incredible to see come to life on the page.

The character development and grand themes the author delve into complimented one another really well. The themes of homophobia in the world, greed, bigotry, and prejudices, in general, all found their way into the narrative, and allowed the characters, mostly LGBTQ-driven characters, to either flourish or grow as a result of the adversity they are facing, which adds depth and emotion to the more grand supernatural story elements.

The Verdict

Captivating, entertaining, and thrilling, author Ashton K. Rose’s “The Southern Magicks” is a must-read LGBTQ+ Fantasy and Paranormal & Urban Fantasy novel and a great first entry into the series of the same name. The heart and passion for which the author tells this story and the blend of LGBTQ+ character development with grand magical world-building and emotional themes made this one story I didn’t want to put down. If you haven’t yet, be sure to grab your copy today!

Rating: 10/10

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The Southern Magicks - Ashton K. Rose

Ashton K. Rose has a new queer fantasy/paranormal romance out: The Southern Magicks. And there’s a giveaway.

How do you prove your innocence when you don’t even remember whether you did it or not?

After a demon attack reveals Dexter’s secret – that his Gran taught him magic – the twenty-three-year-old librarian is forced to work for the local magical law enforcement agency in order to prove his loyalty, and hopefully save his grandmother from execution.

However, when someone tries to frame him for crimes he doesn’t remember committing, Dexter realizes he’ll have to start an investigation of his own. Joined by his beloved husband Eli, their best friend June, and his journalist cousin Kat, he desperately tries to prove his innocence…which is kind of difficult when gaps in his memory make him doubt everything he thinks he knows about himself.

The race against time begins. Can Dexter and his team uncover the criminals weaving the web of guilt around him before it’s too late, or is he going to lose everything and everyone he cares about?

Warnings: Assault, violent imagery, panic attack on page, police brutality

Universal Buy Link | Goodreads


Giveaway

Ashton is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this tour:

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Excerpt

The Southern Magicks meme

Chapter 1, Scene 1:

I knew Nora Rowe had died in her home without anyone telling me.

I unlocked the door and my stomach dropped as I took in the sight of the small dim living room of her kit home, filled with books and old newspapers. The acrid smell of cigarettes and wood fire smoke filled my nose as I weaved my way through the stacks. Mismatched flatpack bookshelves that warped under the strain of thousands of books lined the walls. Her living room held no other furniture apart from an old TV and a worn leather armchair—the carpet covered by stained, threadbare rugs.

I flicked the first light switch I saw twice.

Why had I expected the power to work?

I walked over to the windows and pushed the dust-caked lace curtains aside.

My eyes watered as the sun poured into the room.

In the kitchen, the doors of the cupboards hung open. The only things left behind were a few cheap plastic items scattered across the scratched lino.

I stepped on a plastic cup on the floor. I wobbled on my feet for a few sick seconds before I grabbed the counter to steady myself. The sharp aluminium edge bit into the skin of my hand.

This place was a death trap!

She had over twenty library books I had to separate from the donations. My legs shook as I walked to the shelves closest to the door.

I ignored the erratic beating of my heart and the part of my brain telling me to run and pulled out my keys to flick the small key chain light on. I placed it between my teeth and examined the spines for library tags.

When the light hit the grimy glass of a small photo frame on the shelf, I saw something move behind me. I kept my eyes fixed on the glass and used my thumb to clear a spot of dust.

If it hadn’t moved, I could have ignored the human-shaped shadow reflected in the glass.

As a kid, I’d been hassled about seeing things and having an overactive imagination. When I was seven, Gran told me the truth. I shared her secret ability to see ghosts.

I turned to look at the woman who sat in the armchair.

This Nora was a couple of years older than the one who celebrated her birthday in the photo. Her gaze focused on the TV, which would have been new the year Queen Elizabeth was coronated.

I kept my gaze locked on her, blinking one eye at a time.

I slowed my breath and took a careful step backwards to the door. The back of my calf hit something that drove several points of pain into my skin.

The stack of books I knocked over sliced through my composure just as easily as it did the silence in the room, the hard covers and spines slapping against each other as they hit the floor.

“What the fuck are you doing in my house?” Nora stood and turned to face me.

I knew I’d given the game away when I jumped out of my skin and almost dropped my keys.

I made a noise like a dying rat.

She knew I could hear her.

The first thing Gran had taught me was not to let a ghost realise you could sense them. It was dangerous—a trigger for the ire of a vengeful spirit.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “Your son gave us the key.”

“Worthless piece of shit. Letting strangers into my house. He stole my grandma’s dinner set for drug money before my body was cold. I saw him put it in his car before he called someone to deal with the mess.”

“I’ll just be going now.”

“Actually, I’ll be going.”

I felt a sharp pain in my chest.

I tried to breathe, but my lungs refused to move.

I couldn’t breathe!

The edge of my vision went black as I gasped for air. I fell flat on my front. I was so focused on trying to breathe, I almost missed the presence pushing at the back of my mind. It started small, a hint of a suggestion. The temptation to give in grew. This was her body. I was nothing but a figment of her imagination. Dexter wasn’t real. Nothing more than a thought exercise to see what it’d be like to be a man her grandson’s age. With each second, it pressed harder, and the urge to give in grew.

Forget.

It would be easy to give in and never have another worry again. All the pain and pressure of life could vanish if I relaxed and let her take control.

No!

I shivered as I tried to move my arms to push myself onto my hands and knees. I focused on the door. It was only a short crawl. I had to do it. For a second, my vision went entirely black.

No!

I gathered all the strength I had and screamed. The remaining air expelled from my lungs. I took a sharp breath. I moved my stiff arms and pushed myself onto my hands and knees.

I was Dexter; I was real, and this was my body. Nothing would take that away from me.

I closed my eyes and pushed back the ghost. I wrapped a mental net around the invasive presence in my mind and forced it back through the hole where it had entered. A hole it had dug in a part of my mind I didn’t even know existed.

One arm forwards, one leg forwards, and breathe.

Move. Breathe. Move. Breathe.

I made it to the threshold and pulled the door open. I slid headfirst down the concrete stairs to lie on my back.

The pressure in my mind slowly vanished as I fell.

I opened my eyes.

Pale blue sky, almost cloudless.

My eyes watered from the bright light.

The perfect day was oblivious to my plight. The mid-autumn day was hardly different from late summer. I could’ve laid there for hours, but the hot concrete felt like it was melting the skin off my back where my shirt had ridden up. I rolled onto the dead grass beside the cracked front path.

Sweat ran into my eyes as I sat up. I squeezed my eyes shut to clear my vision.

I could still feel the cold air wafting from the open door. I had to shut it. Mrs Gregory was looking for any excuse to fire me. I stood and walked to the threshold.

All I had to do was grab the handle, pull it closed, remove my hand from the handle and step back.

One quick movement.

I could do it.

As I stared, my eyes adjusted to the dim. She stood just inside, her hard eyes focused on me.

She smiled.

I stepped forwards and grabbed the door handle. Her hand shot out towards my arm.

Her pale, icy fingers clamped around my left wrist. I tightened the grip of my right hand around the door handle. I tucked my chin to my chest and threw myself backwards down the stairs, using the weight of my body to swing the door closed. My shirt ripped as I fell backwards; the sleeve stayed in her hand as my arm slipped free.

The air expelled from my lungs as I hit the ground.

I lay on my back and my lungs refused to work. Fixed to the spot in terror, I gasped for air as my body refused to perform. A function that was usually thoughtless had become my only thought, the pinpoint the world had narrowed to.

There was a dizzy relief as I breathed again, and after a few minutes I slowly stood.

Blood ran down my exposed arm, the only part of my body that had hit the thin concrete path.

Ghosts could touch me! Physically hurt me!

I closed my eyes and concentrated on my breathing, forcing back the panic attack that bubbled in the back of my mind. I knew about the possession, but the touch? Why hadn’t Gran told me? I needed to call Gran, but I knew she couldn’t help me. She hadn’t talked to me about magic since her accident when I was seventeen.

I suspected the accident was magic-related, but she’d kept silent about it.

She’d looked at me sceptically any time I’d mentioned magic afterwards, as though I spoke of childish whimsy and needed to grow up.

So I had.

I’d left Dunn and become a librarian, a nice stable job for a responsible young man who liked books.

A normal young man who had resigned himself to a life of pretending he couldn’t see the dead.

I’d somehow ended up with nowhere else to turn and ended up back in this town.

Now Gran was in America with Aunt Myrtle, so it was hard to get help.

I drove back to the library to pretend I’d been out for my lunch break.


Author Bio

Ashton K. Rose author

Ashton K. Rose (They/Them) is a Queer author who writes Australian paranormal, urban fantasy and mystery fiction filled with LGBTQIA+ characters.

Ashton currently lives in sunny Queensland able to enjoy the best of the Australian bush and beach. Ashton spent their first fourteen years being raised on a remote farm shaped around the remains of an old mining town. Surrounded by the skeletons of past lives and their matching ghost stories, Ashton developed a love for fantasy, horror, and dark fairy tales from a young age.

Carrying a love of ghost stories into adulthood Ashton started writing novels about magic, vampires and ghosts. Ashton decided to set The Southern Magicks in a world heavily inspired by the backdrop of the Australia bush/beach and the speculative fiction Ashton has consumed over a lifetime.

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

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100086363208232

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

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

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/21982765.Ashton_K_Rose

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/author/ashtonkrose

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Author Interview

Do your books spring to life from a character first or an idea?

I write character driven stories, so I usually come up with the plot after I have a couple of compelling/interesting characters. 

Are you a full-time or part-time writer? How does that affect your writing?

I’m a part time writer, I need to work a fulltime day job to fund my expensive hobby of publishing books. Over the last couple of months dealing with the business side of indie publishing plus working on my second book has made me feel like I’m working two full time jobs. 

I’d love to be a fulltime creator one day, but I’ve just reached a place where I can pay my bills and start publishing my stories. The results I’ve seen with one book I have no idea how to market have renewed my confidence. I feel like I’m running on fumes but I want to build a writing career that funds its self, even if I can’t ever write full time I’d at least love to be in the position where publish as often I need to and I can afford to release an audiobook on the same day as the eBook/paperback. 

Who did your cover, and what was the design process like?

My cover was created by Coffee and Fantasy Design, I saw their design portfolio in a Tweet mentioning they had schedule space and knew they were my cover artist. I’d already received quotes from a couple of other designers, but I didn’t think I was ready to have a cover yet. I dropped everything to email the owner of Coffee and Fantasy Design with a proposal and secure one of the empty spots in their schedule. 

I do think I was a slightly fussy/controlling client in the beginning, but everything was better when I let my designer take the reins. I’ve learnt a lot more about the eddicute of hiring a cover designer in the last year.

I’m very happy with my cover and it’s better than I could have ever imagined. I do wish I wasn’t so against the idea of a cover with a person on it though because they do seem to sell better in the American market even for adult fiction. 

The best thing you can do with cover designer is to let them do their job. They know their job.

What’s your drink of choice? 

Non-alcoholic: Either French Earl grey or any tea with rose or lavender. 

Alcoholic: Floral or citrus floured gin. 

What other artistic pursuits (it any) do you indulge in apart from writing?

I’ve been learning watercolor painting for a few months. I never really liked it in school because we used cheep paints and never learnt techniques. I’ve always liked the way watercolor paintings look and I knew I didn’t want to use acrylic paints after painting with as a hobby for a while as a teenager. When I wanted a creative hobby away from my computer, I decided to go all the way with learning and brought artist grade paint, cotton paper and good mid-range brushes. I wanted to learn without the quality of my tools damaging my perception of the medium. 

I really enjoy the hobby and constantly find myself improving though I don’t have as much time to paint as I’d like. One day I’d like to be able to draw a graphic novel as there are a few stories I want to tell that need a visual medium to fully shine.