Sheryl R. Hayes has a new MMF paranormal book coming out (bi, poly), Jordan Abbey book 3, and we have the cover reveal: Chaos Kin.
In the town of Rancho Robles, can one werewolf protect the Children of the Wolf and the Bat? Chaos Wolf Jordan Abbey has made friends among the Black Oak Pack even though she refuses to join it. The same can’t be said of the vampires, but her life has taken a turn for the better.
That is until Enya Blevins, sister to the werewolf who turned Jordan, arrives in Rancho Robles. She wants to know who killed her baby brother and is less than impressed by the Chaos Wolf. Enya wants revenge, starting with Jordan and ending with the vampires infesting the area.
Jordan is prepared to flee, but a technicality makes her an Alpha Werewolf. Now she must stand her ground to protect her nascent Pack and those she loves.
The past has come back to bite her. Does she have the fangs to bite back?
About the Series:
In the Northern California town of Rancho Robles where the Children of the Wolf and the Bat share an uneasy coexistence. One werewolf woman threatens to upset that balance.
Sheryl R. Hayes can be found untangling plot threads or the yarn her three cats have been playing with. She is equally likely to be shooing one of them off the keyboard as she is working on her novels and short stories. In addition to writing, she is a cosplayer focusing on knit and crochet costumes.
For those of you who are just meeting me, hi! I’m Ro, I’m a huge music fanatic and I love to write stories inspired by the music I love. You Can Save Me is a departure of sorts from my typical hard rock/heavy metal musical vibes. It’s full of folk music, a lot of which I hadn’t listened to prior to writing this book. I’ve always been a big fan of Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young, and I knew a lot of the hits, but I did a huge deep dive into The Mamas and Papas, including Cass Elliot’s solo music. I fell hard for Gram Parsons and The Flying Burrito Brothers. I also became a huge fan of Love, the band that would have been all the rage like their label mates The Doors if their label had been willing to market them like they did The Doors. The folk singer Melanie also passed away while I was writing this book, and I did a dive into her catalogue. I discovered so much more music to love and even bonded over a lot of the music with my son, who has very discerning tastes when it comes to music.
Besides the Laurel Canyon documentary, I also watched Rolling Thunder Revue, which was directed by Martin Scorsese and follows Dylan and company on the road just as the US was readying to celebrate their bicentennial. Fascinating stories in that film and it gave me a greater appreciation for his music. It just so happens that Bob Dylan is coming to the Bay in August, so I’m going to see him with Willie Nelson, John Cougar Mellencamp, and a fantastic country artist, Brittney Spencer. Super excited. But I digress. There are some great songs on this list as well as some obscure ones.
I definitely had a voice in mind when I wrote Dane’s character. I hear Jackson Browne when I think of Dane. Browne’s early career is also how I saw Dane’s. He is a brilliant songwriter and he was quite young when he joined the second wave of Laurel Canyon folk singers. He wrote the beginning of “Take It Easy” and then gave the song to Glenn Frey and Don Henley to finish for the Eagles to record.
And just as You Can Do Magic had a theme song, I found one for this book… I’ll See You Again is a song by Noel Coward, which came out in 1929 and became a standard. The words can be interpreted as sweet…but it also has a very creepy vibe, which fit the story perfectly.
I hope you enjoy immersing yourself in the music of You Can Save Me! Stay Tuned for more…
R.L. Merrill has a new MM paranormal romance in the Carnival of Mysteries series, the sequel to You Can Do Magic: You Can Save Me.
Sixties folk singer Dane Donovan vanished from a desolate highway rest area in 1979. Forty years later, he’s found hitchhiking in the California desert on a cold winter’s night. He hasn’t aged a day, but the roadmap of scars he wears tells a chilling tale.
Veteran detective Walter Muse took over the case twenty years ago, but his haunting connection to Dane Donovan goes back to a peculiar run-in as a child with The Troubadour and his Talking Board at a traveling carnival. He receives a late-night call with Dane’s whereabouts and races to Laurel Canyon to see for himself whether Dane is real — or a ghost. Walter’s carefully honed detective instincts are thrown out the window when his obsession with the case turns into an undeniable attraction to the mysterious singer.
Dane is on a mission to stop a new killer hell-bent on picking up where Dane’s kidnapper left off, and Walter is determined to protect him, no matter the personal and psychological cost. They’ll have to rely on new friends and trusted colleagues as well as the power of a mystical spirit board to stop the killing, and have a chance at a real future together.
Warnings: discussion of suicide, serial killer attempted murder
On a dark desert highway somewhere in California, I walked alone on the dusty shoulder with a borrowed acoustic guitar strapped to my back and my sole possession tucked under my arm in a brown paper bag. I shivered as though evil was breathing down my neck, when in reality, I was the one in pursuit. The sky had a purplish hue with some storm clouds off to the north but directly above me, the stars flickered in a surreal dance.
I walked with purpose, and it was a very important one.
I’m the only one who can stop him.
I passed a sign that said Highway 58 to Mojave, and I pulled my salvaged coat tighter around my scrawny self. The ground was warm beneath my tattered boots, but the air bit into my skin like an icy monster gnashing its teeth, hungry.
I turned to look behind me and spotted headlights coming my way. It had been at least an hour since another car had passed. I stuck out my thumb, hoping they’d stop. The boots I wore were also borrowed, as were my clothes and hat. I chose them because they were the only ones in the carnival storage that were the right size and fit.
I had only one memory from before I’d started working with the traveling carnival, and it was awful enough to make your blood run cold.
The lights hurt my eyes, and my energy flagged, but I kept my thumb out. I had something important to do, and if this car didn’t slow down, I’d keep going until the next one came. Someone had to stop. How else did people get anywhere if not for thumb power?
The headlights grew nearer and were impossibly bright. I had to cover my eyes briefly as I was nearly blinded. I heard the crunch of gravel as the vehicle pulled over and coughed at the cloud of dust that rose. A door opened and a male voice called out.
“Hey, man. What are you doing out here?”<
The bright lights faded and only a set of yellow ones down low on the front of the…pickup truck were left on. It was a massive thing, jacked up high, with big tires and a shiny chrome grill.
What does it look like I’m doing? The large concrete sign with the strange name loomed in my consciousness, and though every cell in my body struggled against my purpose, I stood tall and called back, “Need a ride. To Buttonwillow.”
The truck door closed, and I saw the man’s shape pass in front of the dim lights. What was he doing getting out of his ride? I backed up a step, trying to play it cool. He wasn’t the person I was worried about.
Then the passenger door opened, and a much larger man got out.
“Ryan, don’t.”
There were two of them. I didn’t like my odds, but I had no choice. I had to get there. I had to stop…
“Forget it man, I’ll walk.”
“Wait, come back. You can’t walk that far. That’s, like, almost a hundred miles away.”
The driver came closer, but the big man stepped in between us. I reached for the guitar on my back. Maybe I could whack him with it and run away. I was pretty fast.
“Do you have any weapons?” Then the passenger barked an order at me. “Let me see under your jacket.”
“Come on, man. I just need a ride. I don’t have anything.”
The driver pushed past him. “Kal, it’s okay. Hey, kid, what’s your name?”
“Dee Dee.”
The driver held his hand out, and I shook it. “Dee Dee, I’m Ryan, and this is my husband, Kal. Damn,” he said, letting go of my hand and slapping his together, the loud crack making me jump. “I love saying that.” He turned and smiled at the large man, whose scowl seemed to lessen the slightest bit. “We just got married in Vegas.” He held up a hand and the light flashed off of his wedding band.
“Congratulations?” It came out like the question it was. How were they married? Two men? Guess they really do let anything happen in Las Vegas.
“Where’d you come from?” Kal asked, standing next to Ryan as if to protect him from me. Not sure I’d ever been seen as a threat to anyone, but I didn’t blame him for being cautious. Wish I’d had someone to look after me like that.
“Back that way. Was working at a carnival, and I needed to—”
Ryan put a hand on my chest and his eyes went wide. “Did you say carnival? Like, ‘Welcome, Traveler’ carnival?”
“How’d you know?” I tried to step back and my heel caught on a rock. I was about to go down, but Kal caught me—and then I was caught up in his gaze.
“I came from there, too,” Kal said.
And then I heard it. In my mind. Calliope music.
I’d never gone to see it. I hadn’t done much exploring. I’d only gone from my trailer to my booth and back for however long I’d been employed there. Didn’t seem long, but then, time did weird things at the carnival.
>“The Troubadour’s Talking Board,” Kal said. He gripped my arm a little tighter as he brought me back up to standing. “The booth in the arcade. I know you.”
“That’s right. That’s me. Well, it was. I left. Got something I gotta do.”
Ryan grabbed Kal’s arm. “The promise. Babe, we have to help him.”
Kal continued to stare down at me, and though he seemed good—the big man oozed honor from his pores—he was a scary guy. His hand could have wrapped around my bicep twice. Or my throat. He looked from Ryan to me, and then he let go of my arm.
“We shall help you along your path.”
Seemed like a strange way of saying “sure, we’ll give you a ride,” but I’d take it.
“Thank you.”
Ryan gestured to the truck. “Hop in.”
Kal remained at my side and when we reached the cab, he opened the front of two doors. I’d never seen a pickup with two sets of doors before. This thing was unreal.
“You ride up here,” Kal said, taking the guitar from me. “I’ll be right behind you. If you hurt my husband, I will hurt you.”
“God, Kal. That’s hot, but babe, don’t scare the kid. We promised we’d help him.”
“Promised who?” I asked as I climbed into the tall pickup. “And I’m not a kid.”
Kal shut my door after I sat, and then he climbed in. I turned my back to the door. I didn’t like having him behind me. Didn’t like anyone at my back, especially after what had happened to land me at the carnival in the first place.
“I think you know,” Kal said as Ryan started the pickup. “Ryan and I are married because someone else made a promise to help us on our path. Ryan made a promise to Mr. Ame. Now we will do the same for you.”
I’d known cats who lived together, maybe even called themselves husbands, but marriage couldn’t happen between homosexuals. This was all too much. It was like I’d left one odd place and wound up in another.
But what he said about promises put my purpose front and center in my mind.
I sighed and turned just a bit, still able to see Kal out of the corner of my eye as he sat in the middle of the backseat. He rested a hand on the seat behind Ryan’s shoulder, his fingers tangling in the man’s shoulder-length copper hair.
“Thank you for stopping,” I said before I let my eyes drift closed. I needed to rest. I would need my strength when we arrived.
“What’s in Buttonwillow?” I heard Kal ask Ryan.
“All I know about it is there’s a pair of rest stops on either side of the highway. Creepy-ass place. Every time I stop there, I’m sure a murderer is going to jump out of the bushes.”
You don’t know how right you are.
Author Bio
Whether she’s writing contemporary romance featuring quirky and relatable characters or diving deep into the paranormal and supernatural to give readers a shiver, R.L. Merrill loves creating compelling, diverse, and inclusive stories that will stay with readers long after. Winner of the Kathryn Hayes “When Sparks Fly” Best Contemporary award for Hurricane Reese, Paranormal Romance Guild’s Best Rockstar Romance for You Can Do Magic, and Daphne DuMaurier finalist for Connection, Ro spends every spare moment improving her writing craft and striving to find that perfect balance between real-life and happily ever after.
You can find her connecting with readers on social media, advocating for America’s youth, cruising around town with Great Dane Velma, cuddling with twin black cat familiars Frankenstein and Dracula, or headbanging at a rock show near her home in the San Francisco Bay Area! Stay Tuned for more…
Karenna Colcroft has a new MM paranormal romance out, Real Werewolves Don’t Eat Meat book six: Tahe Some Tahini. And there’s a giveaway.
Tobias Rogan never wanted to be a leader. But here he is, the Anax of the United States, ruler of all werewolves in the country. Only two weeks after winning the rank in a challenge fight against his senile predecessor, Tobias and his mate Kyle are still adjusting to their new reality when a frantic call alerts Tobias to the massacre of nearly half the wolves in a pack in North Dakota–including the pack’s Alpha and Beta.
An investigation reveals that the wolves responsible for the attack are from Canada. Tobias reaches out to Silas Creighton, Anax of Canada, and finds someone like-minded in wanting peace between the wolves of the two countries. At Silas’s invitation, Tobias and his mate Kyle, along with their new guard Quinn Boucher, sole survivor of the North Dakota massacre, travel to Nova Scotia to put an end to the conflict between the American and Canadian werewolves. But not all wolves are interested in peace–and not all want Tobias to survive the trip.
Warnings: violence, gun violence, discussion of past sexual abuse, homophobia
About the Series
Kyle Slidell didn’t move to Boston expecting to be changed into a werewolf. But that’s what happened. He can’t control whether he shifts at the full moon, but he can damn sure continue being vegan–even in wolf form.
Tobias Rogan, Alpha of Boston North Pack, never expected to fall in love with anyone, let alone a man. A male Alpha is not supposed to have a male partner. But when he meets Kyle, he’s immediately attracted. And after Kyle is changed, Tobias realizes the truth: Kyle is not only his partner, but his mate.
The werewolf world isn’t a simple place, and Kyle and Tobias are thrown into the middle of conflict within and among the packs of the United States–a conflict that extends all the way to the top of the werewolf hierarchy. Can they and their love survive what they face?
I debated knocking and decided to just try the doorknob. Kyle had better hearing than the rest of us. He knew I was here. If he didn’t want me to enter the apartment, he would have locked the door.
He hadn’t. The knob turned easily, and I pushed the door open and entered the living room that had been mine for decades.
The light in the room was off, but the kitchen light was on. I set down my bag and walked slowly into the other room. And there, I found my mate.
Seeing Kyle sitting there, at the same table in the same apartment where our relationship had grown, felt like a knife in my heart. I’d found him. But the way he looked at me almost made me wish I hadn’t. I’d never seen such pain and anger in his eyes.
His eyes mirrored my own emotions. Pain at how he’d left me, not a word to me, not even speaking to me when I reached out. Rage at being abandoned by the one person who had sworn never to do that.
I didn’t know whether to hug him or beat the shit out of him. I did neither, just stood in the doorway, fists clenched, waiting for him to fucking say something so I could.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey.” I went toward the other chair but stopped. If I got too close to him, I might lunge across the table and strangle him. I closed my eyes just long enough to let an image of the ocean form. It didn’t calm me as much as usual, but at least it washed away the urge to hurt Kyle for hurting me. Which was good. I would never hurt Kyle.
I had before. I hadn’t meant to, but I had. And I’d sworn I never would again.
I took a deep breath and opened my eyes. “You’re here.”
“And the sky is blue, grass is green, and werewolves have fur.” He folded his arms. “You found me. Now what?”
His tone was completely flat. No anger, which would have been a good sign if he’d shown any other emotion. But there was nothing. He didn’t want me there. I could feel that through our bond, which was actually a good sign. The bond was still intact. But the way he spoke, the way he looked at me, sent my temper on the upswing again. How fucking dare he be a sarcastic asshole after what he’d done to me?
I gritted my teeth and forced another long, slow breath. “We talk. You tell me why you left, and we decide if we can fix it.”
“And if we can’t?”
“Then at least we talked to each other!” My voice rose, and I didn’t give a shit, even though Kirk could hear and probably everyone in the other two buildings could as well. “You just took off, Kyle. You didn’t say a damn thing, just took off. I was worried.” My eyes watered, and I blinked a few times as my anger ebbed. “I love you.”
“You have a weird way of showing it.” He sighed. “Sit down, would you? Unless you’re trying some Anax intimidation tactic on me.”
“I’m not.” I sat and leaned my elbows on the table. “How could you do that? How could you just leave without saying a fucking word?”
“I didn’t know what to say. You would have told me not to go. And I wouldn’t have gone. And I would have kept dealing with all that shit.”
“What shit?”
“You know.” He waved. “I’m a weakness for you. I shouldn’t exist or whatever. Those assholes back in California.”
“So you fucking walked out on me because of them?” I was so furious I was shaking. “You left as soon as I was gone. You knew you were going. You were gone by the time I called you, and you didn’t say a goddamn word. How could you do that?”
“I should have.” This time, emotion filled his tone. “I’m sorry, Tobias. I just…I needed to get the fuck out of there. And I knew you would have told me not to go. I didn’t want to do this.”
“Do what?”
“This.” He gestured toward me. “Argue. Process our feelings. I just wanted to get away from the homophobes and the memories. Living in that house…I’m guessing you have some decent memories of the place. You went there for years for the national gatherings. A couple weeks ago was my first time being there, and I spent most of the gathering in a goddamn cage, Tobias.”
I felt like he had jammed a blade into my heart. Involuntarily, I took a step back. How had I not realized? I knew all too well what trauma could do, but I hadn’t even considered how Kyle must feel waking up every single day in the place where he’d been dragged away from me and locked in a tiny basement cell.
Author Bio
Karenna Colcroft lives just north of Boston, Massachusetts, and has been in love with the city since childhood, though she has yet to encounter any werewolves, vampires, or other paranormal beings in her travels. At least none that she knows of.
Karenna is a polyamorous, nonbinary human who lives in Massachusetts with her husband. She also has two adult children and three “bonus” kids, four grandchildren, and two and a half cats. (Half in terms of time the cat lives with her, not in terms of the cat itself…)
I debated knocking and decided to just try the doorknob. Kyle had better hearing than the rest of us. He knew I was here. If he didn’t want me to enter the apartment, he would have locked the door.
He hadn’t. The knob turned easily, and I pushed the door open and entered the living room that had been mine for decades.
The light in the room was off, but the kitchen light was on. I set down my bag and walked slowly into the other room. And there, I found my mate.
Seeing Kyle sitting there, at the same table in the same apartment where our relationship had grown, felt like a knife in my heart. I’d found him. But the way he looked at me almost made me wish I hadn’t. I’d never seen such pain and anger in his eyes.
His eyes mirrored my own emotions. Pain at how he’d left me, not a word to me, not even speaking to me when I reached out. Rage at being abandoned by the one person who had sworn never to do that.
I didn’t know whether to hug him or beat the shit out of him. I did neither, just stood in the doorway, fists clenched, waiting for him to fucking say something so I could.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey.” I went toward the other chair but stopped. If I got too close to him, I might lunge across the table and strangle him. I closed my eyes just long enough to let an image of the ocean form. It didn’t calm me as much as usual, but at least it washed away the urge to hurt Kyle for hurting me. Which was good. I would never hurt Kyle.
I had before. I hadn’t meant to, but I had. And I’d sworn I never would again.
I took a deep breath and opened my eyes. “You’re here.”
“And the sky is blue, grass is green, and werewolves have fur.” He folded his arms. “You found me. Now what?”
His tone was completely flat. No anger, which would have been a good sign if he’d shown any other emotion. But there was nothing. He didn’t want me there. I could feel that through our bond, which was actually a good sign. The bond was still intact. But the way he spoke, the way he looked at me, sent my temper on the upswing again. How fucking dare he be so disrespectful after what he’d done to me?
I gritted my teeth and forced another long, slow breath. “We talk. You tell me why you left, and we decide if we can fix it.”
“And if we can’t?”
“Then at least we talked to each other!” My voice rose, and I didn’t give a shit, even though Kirk could hear and probably everyone in the other two buildings could as well. “You just took off, Kyle. You didn’t say a damn thing, just took off. I was worried.” My eyes watered, and I blinked a few times as my anger ebbed. “I love you.”
“You have a weird way of showing it.” He sighed. “Sit down, would you? Unless you’re trying some Anax intimidation tactic on me.”
“I’m not.” I sat and leaned my elbows on the table. “How could you do that? How could you just leave without saying a fucking word?”
“I didn’t know what to say. You would have told me not to go. And I wouldn’t have gone. And I would have kept dealing with all that shit.”
“What shit?”
“You know.” He waved. “I’m a weakness for you. I shouldn’t exist or whatever. Those fucknuggets back in California.”
“So you fucking walked out on me because of them?” I was so furious I was shaking. “You left as soon as I was gone. You knew you were going. You were gone by the time I called you, and you didn’t say a goddamn word. How could you do that?”
“I should have.” This time, emotion filled his tone. “I’m sorry, Tobias. I just…I needed to get the fuck out of there. And I knew you would have told me not to go. I didn’t want to do this.”
“Do what?”
“This.” He gestured toward me. “Argue. Process our feelings. I just wanted to get away from the homophobes and the memories. Living in that house…I’m guessing you have some decent memories of the place. You went there for years for the national gatherings. A couple weeks ago was my first time being there, and I spent most of the gathering in a goddamn cage, Tobias.”
Amir Lane has a new gay paranormal vampire book out, Heavy Metal Hunters book 1: A Riff of Retribution. And there’s a giveaway.
Dead men are filled with life.
Eleven years ago, world-renowned guitarists Hale and Aleksandr learned that monsters were real. Hale lost the love of his life, and Aleksandr lost his brother.
When the carnage was over, they vowed to make sure no one else had to go through what they did.
But since then, another band’s bassist has been killed at a festival, and she wasn’t the only one. Hale suspects a vampire was responsible, and that their drummer — the singer of his new band — knows more about it than she’s letting on. When a member of their new act is also attacked by a vampire, everything Hale has tried to keep in the shadows comes to light.
Hale has made a bargain with the gods for the power to heal. But he can’t save everyone.
The dead are rising. The gods are angry. And even they won’t be Hale’s biggest problem.
From USAT Bestselling Author Amir Lane comes a story of music, magic, and mayhem.
Warning: Substance abuse, self-harm, mentions of attempted suicide.
Hale ground his teeth against the instinct to find her. He didn’t know if this tactic was something they learned or if it was ingrained into them. The nearest cabins were all empty right now. They had checked before sundown and found no sign of human life.
That had been several hours ago. Somebody very well could have wandered up into the mountains and gotten hurt or lost in that time.
Hale doubted it.
The same cry came from behind him. This time, it was a man’s voice.
“Help me! Help me!”
Hale stood and raised his crossbow with both hands. Though it was fairly light, he was mindful of the way the weight tugged at the scars behind his left shoulder. In his periphery, Aleksandr sheathed the dagger and raised his own crossbow instead.
This wasn’t right.
Draug weren’t like European or North American vampires. They didn’t move in pairs. It was likely why Hale and Aleksandr had survived doing this so long. It was always two against one.
They had a strategy. His job was to slow the bastards down so Aleksandr could finish them off. Two of them coming from different directions complicated things.
“Hale,” Aleksandr said.
Hale knew that tone.
“Don’t,” he warned.
“You’ve been a good brother.”
“Fuck off.”
Aleksandr laughed softly.
“I love you too, Hale.”
Hale’s lip twitched into a smile despite himself.
“Come on, you fucks,” he muttered.
The silence was worse than the noise. Had they seen the weapons and retreated?
No—
From his left—
“Hale!”
Hale spun.
Eyes glowed yellow in the light of the fire. His finger twitched on the trigger. The bolt went wide.
Dammit!
The draug moved fast, too fast for Hale to follow. There was no point trying to see it. He allowed instinct to take over. He turned in the direction of the hairs prickling on the back of his neck as he released the bolt without letting himself think about it. A howl of pain rang through his eardrums. The draug paused long enough that Hale could see the bolt sticking from her thigh. She stared at him with sharp teeth bared and wide eyes a blue so pale, they were nearly white. She was thin enough that he could make out the bones of her skull and collarbones where her torn and bloody clothes hung loose from her body. It was impossible to tell how old she’d been as human.
Jeans and a t-shirt.
Had she been killed in the summer?
Hale smothered down the guilt before it could distract him. One week a year. That was the agreement. Anything outside that week wasn’t his responsibility. All he could do was put the poor thing out of her misery and keep her from killing anybody else.
His weak shoulder gave out a little as he pulled the trigger again. The bolt stuck between the draug’s ribs instead of her heart.
“How are you doing, Aleksandr?” he shouted.
The lack of verbal response wasn’t encouraging.
“Aleksandr!”
“I’m fine!”
Hale slipped his shoulder to the side, narrowly avoiding the woman’s claws aimed for his face. The ash poisoning was slowing her down already. She was too close for the crossbow. He let it fall to the ground and moved his right leg back.
A sharp cry rang out behind him.
“Aleksandr?”
Hale made the mistake of looking back. He didn’t see Aleksandr or the other draug.
“Aleksandr!”
Gods, where was he? Where—
The woman slammed into him. The snow broke his fall, and the pain was muffled by the spike of adrenaline in his veins. He braced his left hand against her rotting throat to keep her teeth from his face. Cold pain pulled at the scars behind his shoulder. The weak muscles quivered with the effort of holding her back against gravity. Her ugly snarl looked even more inhuman in the firelight.
Hale’s pendants were hot where they’d fallen back against his skin.
Protect him, you bastards, not me. He’s not a fighter!
Hale could handle himself, but Aleksandr—
Aleksandr could hold his own. He wasn’t as soft as he looked. Hale couldn’t think of him while the woman’s short claws raked at his arms. She was clearly young enough they hadn’t had a chance to grow long yet. The sleeves of his jacket kept them from breaking his skin.
Hale shifted to push the woman back a few inches with his good arm. He wedged his knee up between them. His fingers scrambled over his thigh until they found the hilt of his dagger.
Blood splattered on his face as he drove the blade into the underside of her jaw. She howled and screamed around the metal. He kept his grip on the hilt as she jerked back, dislocating her jaw. She fell back, and Hale was on her in a less than a breath. He dropped his weight onto the dagger. It took two tries to get it between the ribs and into her heart.
It was concern for Aleksandr that made him stand as the draug woman thrashed on the snow, not the sick feeling that came with watching her die.
This never did get easier.
Author Bio
Amir Lane writes supernatural and fantasy with LGBT+ characters. From the frigid and mysterious land of Northern Canada, Amir is obsessed with loud music and black magic. They spend most of their writing time in a small home office or doing the circuit of local coffee shops. They live in a world where magic is an everyday occurrence, and they strive to bring that world to paper.
When not figuring out what kind of day job an incubus would have or what a necromancer would go to school for, Amir enjoys visiting the nearest Dairy Queen, getting killed in video games, and watching cat videos.
Hi Everyone! So glad to be here and today there’s an exclusive excerpt from Lord Manetu, Book 12 of the Blackwood Pack series. It’s about Theo, Norm, and Smokey who have a rocky path to their HEA but not to worry because the Blackwood Pack is always ready to step in with a helping hand. Please enjoy!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After promising Jackson he would not seek out Theo until given permission, Smokey left the study, heading outside. He needed the peace of the forest to help settle his thoughts about what his options were concerning his mate. Opening the front door, he stepped outside, ignoring his bear’s objections. While he could understand and even agree with his animal’s demand for vengeance, he knew they belonged here with their mate. Revenge would have to wait.
Pausing on the porch, Smokey glanced around, smirking at the enforcers casually scattered around the edge of the forest. There wasn’t a doubt in his mind what their assignment was but that wouldn’t be necessary. He had no intention of doing anything that would cause his mate more anxiety. Nodding briefly to the leader, he stepped off the porch, heading for a path leading into the trees.
The quietness of Smokey’s footsteps on the thick bed of pine needles had the effect on his bear he hoped for. The anger was gone, stripped from his animal by the stillness of the forest surrounding them. Now he could think without dealing with the wild mood swings of his bear.
Moving slowly through the trees, Smokey let his senses savor the forest sounds and scents, reminding him of the many times spent with his grandfather learning the ways of the ancient ones. He kept that knowledge locked up, guarded against all who might seek to destroy it or use it for nefarious purposes. It was a part of him that had remained a secret—at least most of it—from even his two best friends.
But somehow Ghost had found out about some of it, which is why he’d insisted Smokey use it to save Harte. Thinking it over as his mind cleared in the peaceful surroundings of the forest, the impact of Ghost’s knowing about his power chilled him to the core. Not only did it expose him to danger, but it also compromised his friend—who couldn’t possibly know how vulnerable he might now be. Dammit!
Continuing on the path, Smokey headed deeper into the forest, letting the shadows cool his agitation. Ghost’s knowledge would have to be handled soon, but there were other matters he needed to figure out first. Turning his attention to his mate, the image of Theo filled his mind, causing his bear to roar in approval. I agree…our mate is gorgeous…and brave…and smart! Everything he learned from Jackson told him the Fates had found him a mate worthy of sharing the world he was born into; the problem was Theo was already spoken for.
Fucking hell! Slamming his fist into the trunk of the nearest tree, Smokey howled in frustration, cursing the turn his life had taken. Nothing had ever been easy, so why did he expect his mating to be? Rubbing his fist, he resumed walking, concentrating on the questions Jackson asked him, questions he hadn’t been able to answer.
He decided to start with the easiest one. Can you raise Theo’s cub even though you’re not the father? Smokey carefully examined his feelings and those of his bear and after talking it over with his animal, he knew the answer. Blood alone did not make a father, but the love he already felt for the cub certainly did. And the thought he might never get to show the cub his love caused a deep ache in his heart.
Trying to ignore it, Smokey moved on to the next question. Can you accept the father of the cub and welcome him into your mating? Listening to his bear growl in response, he knew it would be a problem—not for him, but definitely for his animal. That was the reason he couldn’t immediately give Jackson the assurances he was looking for. As far as he was concerned, he owed…what was his name? oh yeah, Norman…Norman for saving Theo’s life. According to Jackson, Norman was the reason his mate made it through the hell of Arald’s prison.
Pausing as the growls of his bear grew louder, Smokey gave his animal the finger, refusing to kowtow to his demands this time. It was rare for Smokey to stand up to his bear, but too much was at stake to give in. Finding a fallen tree trunk, he sat down on it and called to his animal’s spirit, seeking a meeting with him. Once the spirit appeared, Smokey closed his eyes and released control of his human spirit. Falling into a trance, he watched and listened as his spirit explained the issues to his bear’s spirit. Smokey knew the only way to gain his animal’s cooperation was if their spirits were in agreement.
Mary Rundle has a new MM paranormal romance out, Blackwood Pack book 12: Lord Manetu. And there’s a giveaway.
This is part of a continuing series by Amazon 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.
Barely surviving Arald’s prison, Theo’s luck has finally changed. Discovering an unknown passion for cooking, he’s settled into his new life with his fiancé at the Blackwood Pack. He’s excited about tying the knot with Norm in the company of all their friends. It’s everything Norm promised him during their bleakest days of incarceration and he doesn’t think he can be any happier.
Waking up at Arald’s, Norm’s sole mission in life is to help his Fated Mate, Theo, survive the horrors inflicted on them both. Now free, he sets about to make all of Theo’s dreams come true, including the most important one, the cub his mate so dearly wants.
Smokey heads North to pick up Kevin’s parents and deliver them to the Blackwood Pack before hurrying back to LA. Easy-peasy…right? That’s what Smokey thinks but then, what is supposed to be a simple mission, turns into a race to avoid human hunters who have already shot Kevin’s father. Using his skills honed as a secret agent, Smokey manages to elude the hunters, heal the father’s wound and then successfully transport them to safety only to find the Fates have a surprise waiting for him.
After a series of misunderstandings and then with some help from Jackson, the pack’s Alpha, Theo and Norm finally accept Smokey as their mate and set upon a journey to unite the three of them. Discovering truths about their past lives leads to uncovering long-kept secrets that end up bonding Theo, Norm and Smokey together, giving each more love and happiness than they ever knew existed.
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.
Peering into the underbrush to his left, Smokey found the glowing eyes of Ivan’s mountain lion staring back at him, waiting for the signal to attack. Then swiveling his head to the right, he found a pair of gleaming wolf eyes focused on him. Satisfied, he looked up through the branches of some huge pine trees, searching for Hawkeye, but the sky was empty. Huffing quietly, he turned his attention back to the three men in front of the cave where Kevin’s parents were holed up. Studying his preys’ body language, he deduced that the man on the left was the leader, while the other two were carrying out his orders.
Gesturing with one of his paws to Ivan, Smokey pointed out the man he was going to kill.
Ivan nodded, impressed by the giant paw with razor sharp claws.
Suddenly a hoarse screech broke the silence as a Red-Tail Hawk dive bombed the clearing at the mouth of the cave, causing the men surrounding it to scatter and duck. Before they could recover, a thunderous roar froze them in place.
Smokey’s bear rushed forward, his paw aimed at the leader, his four-inch claws easily piercing the man’s back. Ignoring the ear-splitting scream of pain, he clutched his prize then, pausing for a moment, he tore the man’s heart out. Swinging around, he saw Ivan’s mountain lion momentarily incapacitated by bear spray. Smokey’s eyes glowed red with anger as he aimed a paw at the man with the spray, his claws sinking deep into his stomach, eviscerating him. Scooping out his victim’s guts and scattering them on the ground, he then moved on to the next target.
Though all three men had now been killed, Smokey’s bear was still in a frenzy. Anger pulsed through him, demanding further revenge against those who dared hurt Kevin’s parents. Lifting up his head, Smokey’s bear roared again, silencing the forest as he broadcast his displeasure. Finally, after several more bellows, Smokey forced his bear into a shift and reclaimed his human form, his body still filled with adrenaline. Opening and closing his fists, Smokey slowed his breathing, calming himself. Standing in the clearing, he surveyed the bloody scene before turning to Ivan. “Anyone injured?”
Smirking, Ivan’s eyes lingered on the bodies of the men lying on the ground. “I’m assuming you don’t mean them. In that case, nope, other than a few scratches, everyone’s fine.”
“Smartass!” Before Smokey could say more, he heard Elen calling his name. Whirling around, he ran toward the cave, his gut tightening at the sound of panic in her voice. Once inside, he blinked several times until his eyes adjusted to the darkness, then spying Elen kneeling next to Harte, he rushed over to her. Dropping down beside her, he asked, “What happened?”
“He’s been shot and I can’t stop the bleeding, Gabriel.”
“Lemme see.” After Elen removed her hand from the blood-soaked cloth, Smokey gently lifted it, inhaling sharply at the still-bleeding wound. With the amount of blood Harte was losing, it was impossible for him to be moved. Replacing the bandage quickly, he said, “Here, press down as hard as you can.”
“Gabe, he needs to shift now. His heart has already stopped once.”
“I know…” Lifting his right hand, he extended a claw before cutting open his left wrist. Waiting a second until blood flowed from the wound, he put the open cut tightly against Harte’s mouth. “C’mon Harte…drink,” he muttered.
“Will it work?” asked Elen, trying to hide her fear.
“I don’t know…he’s weak.” Reaching down, with his right hand, he pinched Harte’s nose closed, hoping the lack of air would cause him to open his mouth. Waiting for Harte’s survival instinct to kick in felt like hours for Smokey, who was running through other options in his mind. But suddenly he felt a tugging at the cut as Harte started swallowing his blood. Removing his fingers from the man’s nose, Smokey was relieved to see the rise and fall of Harte’s chest as his breathing became steady.
Harte drank for several minutes before Smokey gently pulled his wrist away, licking his cut to seal it. “That should be enough for it to work,” he murmured, leaving the part ‘if it’s gonna work’ unsaid. There wasn’t any reason to stress out Elen anymore than she already was, especially since she was critical to her husband’s survival.
Glancing at the man she regarded as her second son, Elen softly said, “Thank you for coming, Gabriel.”
“No thanks needed,” Smokey smiled. “Kevin would kick my ass if I hadn’t.”
A shadow passed over Elen’s face at the mention of her son. “You haven’t found him yet.”
Placing his large hand over Elen’s delicate fingers, Smokey squeezed lightly. “No, but I will…promise.”
Author Bio
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, twelve books later, Lord Manetu, 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.
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, thatmuch 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.”
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.
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
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.
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.
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
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.
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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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
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 (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.
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.
I received a free copy of this book in exchange for a fair and honest review. All opinions are my own.
A powerful being from another dimension and an angelic heir known as the Demon Lord of California must work together to stop dark forces from taking control of the open portal the being used to enter the human world in author Bennu Bright’s “The Demon Lord of California”, the first book in the Infinity 8 series.
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The Synopsis
Baker. Wizard. God of Space and Time. Cupcake enthusiast. How long will it take to fan the flames and enrage this gentle phoenix? Start counting.
What’s a wounded and lonely little cinnamon roll to do? Stripped of his psychic powers, Calico Winghorse flees to 19th century earth via his inter-dimensional portal. As a mixed-blood phoenix trapped in human form, he opens a bakery in the San Francisco Bay Area and quietly nurses his wounds. But the unique method of his arrival has drawn the unwanted attention of Infinity Corporation.
Representing this angelic-run company is Agustin Chavez de la Cruz, the Demon Lord of California. Even though Agustin is IC’s heir, he finds himself demoted from his duties to concentrate on his new assignment: take absolute control of the portal. But Calico refuses to sell for any price.
Before Agustin can formulate a more gracious avenue of acquiring Calico’s gateway, the demanding head of IC interferes, further complicating matters. So as negotiations stumble along, Calico and Agustin realize they both wish to establish more than a mere business arrangement. In the mean time, Calico ensures that the good people of the city are getting their fill of baked goods.
However, due to Calico’s injuries, the portal remains vulnerable to the darker forces that want it at any cost. Agustin will have to push both his angelic heritage, as well as his own psychic power to the very limits to mend someone who not only bears celestial blood, but who is also the God of Space and Time.
The Review
What a fantastic way to begin the new year. The epic proportions of this novel’s world-building were incredible to read. The vastness of the novel’s paranormal world burst open on a grand scale that kept me enthralled by the author’s storytelling. The balance the author found between humor and romance as the story delved into the more everyday, mundane, and human aspects of the story with the more epic, chilling, and heavy aspects of the cosmic scale fantasy horror elements of the story were incredible to see come to life on the page.
The depth of emotional connection the author was able to achieve with the characters in this book was superb. Not only did the author manage to craft a villain that everyone will love hating, but the protagonists of this story found a way to add a level of connection and relatability to their bond together that is not always easy to accomplish when dealing with otherworldly beings. The way Calico opens up Agustin’s world and viewpoints to the point of making sacrifice after sacrifice to help the wayward god of space and time and the connection they shared not only brought that beloved LGBTQ romance and relationship to life, but added the heart to the narrative.
The Verdict
Thoughtful, mesmerizing, and entertaining, author Bennu Bright’s “The Demon Lord of California” is a must-read fantasy and LGBTQ Paranormal novel to kick off 2023, and a great start to the author’s Infinity 8 series. The heart and compassion of the character’s arcs blend well with the action and fantasy world the author has brought to life through incredible imagery in their writing, and the twists and turns will have readers eager for more as the book comes to its climactic conclusion. If you haven’t yet, be sure to grab your copy today!
Rating: 10/10
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Bennu Bright has a new MM alt-history fantasy out (bi/pan, intersex, poly), Infinity 8 book one: The Demon Lord of California. And there’s a giveaway.
A Slow Burn Meet Cute!
Baker. Wizard. God of Space and Time. Cupcake enthusiast. How long will it take to fan the flames and enrage this gentle phoenix? Start counting.
What’s a wounded and lonely little cinnamon roll to do? Stripped of his psychic powers, Calico Winghorse flees his homeworld and travels to 19th century Earth via his inter-dimensional portal. As a mixed-blood phoenix trapped in human form, he opens a bakery in the San Francisco Bay Area and quietly nurses his wounds. But the unique method of his arrival draws the unwanted attention of Infinity Corporation.
Representing this angelic-run company is Agustin Chavez de la Cruz, the Demon Lord of California. Even though Agustin is IC’s heir, he finds himself demoted from his duties to concentrate on his new assignment: take absolute control of Calico’s portal.
But Calico refuses to sell at any price. He is also very busy ensuring that the good people of the city are getting their fill of baked goods.
Before Agustin can formulate a more gracious avenue of acquiring the gateway, the demanding head of IC interferes, further complicating matters. So as negotiations stumble along, Calico and Agustin come to realize they both want more than a stuffy business arrangement.
However, due to Calico’s injuries, the portal remains vulnerable to the darker forces that want it at any cost. Agustin will have to push both his angelic heritage, as well as his own psychic powers to the very limits to heal this sweet baker, who is also the portal world’s God of Space and Time.
The Demon Lord of California is the first book of an LGBTQ+ paranormal-fantasy series. You won’t want to miss a first love found, hidden worlds, and a recovering workaholic grasping at his second chance. All centered around the control of an otherworldly portal. So curl up with your favorite beverage, and hang out with Cal and Gus for a while. You’ll be happy you did!
Warnings: Mature readers. Robbery and assault. Mentioned sexual harassment/assault. Mental abuse from a parent. Fire, burning, burning alive. Possibly implied prostitution, and suicide (by fire).
“Please,” Calico called out, hands waving at chest-level. “Please, wait.”
The raucous noise of the motorcar’s engine ceased. The gentleman stepped down from the vehicle. “You wished to speak to me? Is it about the order? I can reduce the amount of—”
“Oh, no, no,” Calico hurried to reassure. “My brothers and I are most capable, and we will have no difficulty filling and delivering your baked goods. On time. I…” He could do this. He had to do this. His loneliness would drive him mad before the curse could ever eat him into a permanent demise.
Perhaps it would be easier if they did not have the driver as an audience. Calico extended a hand to show his customer the way to the small strip of greenery next to the bakery. He could not be sure exactly what his intentions would entail, by waylaying a most important customer in this manner. It was indecent. Immoral. But Calico felt if he did not, he would lose something, or a moment, that was so dire, he would die.
He would die anyway… Calico bit his lip.
It was well and good his gentleman customer seemed to be interested in his most unusual inquiry. So that provided additional courage. Which came as a surprise.
In the heart of this little park next door to the bakery, his customer artfully arranged himself on the bench beneath the gaslight pole. Sitting straight and tall. Sophistication and elegance radiating just as strongly as the furnace of his elemental aura.
The haziness cast from the street lamp created a most wonderful island against the coming twilight. It strangely made this rendezvous cozier. That alone bolstered Calico’s courage another notch.
When the gentleman looked up at him expectedly with those mismatched eyes, Calico felt mesmerized. Say something, he demanded of himself. Something witty and clever, so he will think me just as gentlemanly and important.
His customer appeared to be fighting the smile on his lips before clearing his throat. He turned his head—just for a second, before facing him again, expression polite.
Say something, Calico pushed himself. He is waiting. He will think me daft and even more unsound than I already am. Alright then. Here I go.
“We are both fire elementals.” The clumsy inquiry had Calico’s cheeks heating in embarrassment. He bent his head at his failure.
“One moment,” the gentleman said. He collected a small item anchored into his top hat and held it up. A blue gem embedded into a silver clip glowed, and the light circled around them like a curtain. Returning the jewel to its place on that magnificent hat, this man languidly leaned against the backrest and angled himself more in his direction.
Calico felt encouraged to pursue a friendly connection, but this intriguing magic had to be investigated. “What was that?”
“A spell my company uses. We call it the Curtain. It keeps our dealings private and unseen from the mundanes—ah, the general non-magical populations, I mean. Usually the humans.”
“That is most ingenious magic,” he exclaimed, leaning in. “I wonder how it compares to my Mirror Bubble?”
There was that smile again, most gentle, and prompting. “You wished to speak of magic? Or something more?”
“Ah, my apologies. Not magic. Will you show it to me?” Calico asked, knowing himself too eager. He tried not to wring his hands and appear desperate.
His customer’s brows rose high, and Calico knew it was in utter surprise, and perhaps curiosity. “Show you… what?” The question was somewhat wary with a touch of amusement.
“Your elemental flame. You see, I too, am—er was once gifted with the flame. I am a phoenix, you see.”
The man blinked. “A phoenix without a flame?”
Calico felt himself turn pink, and put a sheepish hand against the back of his head. “It is a most embarrassing admission,” he rushed. “I did not plan on being so forward. I apol—”
There was a quiet whoosh. Another small circle of light rose, and Calico sensed the heat instantly. There, dancing calmly inches above the gentleman’s gloved palm, was a tear-shaped flame. Flickering in shades of orange, reds, and yellows and blues. And… and yes. White.
He sucked in a breath and suddenly couldn’t breathe. It had been so long since he’d seen such a flame. Curling, writhing in all its glory. Since he was cut off from his ability, Maars did not use his out of sympathy. At least in a sensory view.
Calico swallowed the hitch in his breath. How could this gentleman carry so many colors within? Was he that powerful?
“You’re shaking, Mr. Scrivens.” The flame disappeared, and there was a steadying hand at his shoulder. “Are you well? Perhaps you should sit down.”
Calico touched that hand, as if to anchor it in place. “Yes, yes, I should.” The wooden bench was chilly against his rump. “It-it is quite cold this evening. May I see it again?”
The request was granted. Calico just stared at the dancing shapes. Wishing. Forever longing.
A few seconds passed before the gentleman spoke. “How long has it been since you were unable to create?”
Create. It was an elemental term Calico had heard bandied about as he eavesdropped upon conversations among the local wizard shops. The question sent warm tingles and shivers of fire down his spine.<
Staring at the flame so snug and content curling about the gentleman’s gloved fingertips, Calico suddenly found himself saying, “Sixteen months, two days, seventeen hours and 26 and a half seconds.”
The gentleman cocked his head to the side. He lowered his hand, and the summoned fire faded. “That’s quite precise.”
Indeed! He should not be able to access any of his psychic powers. “I am the God of Space and Time,” Calico said offhandedly.
There was a pause that almost became awkward. “Well, yes. About that. Mr. Scrivens, while we are here, alone, I’d like to take the opportunity to discuss your delivery further.”
“Oh, yes,” Calico replied with renewed energy. “What is it? Would you like to add my famous cupcakes to the order? It is no trouble.”
“N-no. That’s not it. Well, the baked goods are for a recruitment campaign.”
“Recruitment?”
“Yes. My company has need of your skills.”
Calico paused before he made a silly fish out of himself. As much as his mind was centered upon his magic, what if this man merely wanted an extra baker on his payroll, and not a wizard? He had to allow the man to formally extend the offer.
Author Bio
Hi! I’m Bennu Bright. Fantasy and paranormal tales have always felt like home. And I’ve always adored getting into the gritty details of a character’s goals and relationships. With my newfound zest for the craft of writing, my work has joined the ranks of romance and the romantic.
Born and raised in the San Francisco Bay Area, I spend my days nose to the keyboard, or attempting to revive an ancient passion for drawing.
