28 November 2022

A Beautiful Lie by Coda Languez Blog Tour!

 

A Beautiful Lie
Coda Languez


(Birth of a Sin, #1)
Publication date: June 1st 2022
Genres: Adult, Dark Romance, Mafia, Romance

Could the love between a Sinner and a Saint only end in flames?

Ira owned the city. As the head of the Dante family, she had the law in her pocket and her red manicured nails in every criminal enterprise.

But when she met Tristan – a man with ocean blue eyes and an angelic smile – it was love at first sight. It didn’t matter that he owned nothing to his name and lived in the worst part of her city. Anything he could desire, she could give him.

There was just a tiny problem.

Tristan was a vigilante. A partner of the hero whose mission was to take down Ira’s empire.

Will their relationship, built on pretty promises and beautiful lies, unravel under his secret, or does that really matter?

Either way, Ira had her eyes set on her prize and she always gets what she wants. Damn his feelings on the matter.

Originally on Kindle Vella!

Goodreads / Amazon

His lips pressed against her neck, kissing her heated skin, leaving wet petals of heat. She tried hard to fight against the sensation, her fingers gripping an unfinished glass of wine. When he moved to nibble her ear, his breath sending sparks along her nerves, causing a few drops of wine to hit her cherry wood floors as she shivered. She bit her lip, preventing a gasp. “I still need to punish you.”

Tristan cooed softly into her ear, his hand stroking her muscular thigh through that tight skirt. “Why?”

That breath was leaving goosebumps on her skin. She took a deep breath, her eyes shifting to the side, trying to look dismissive. “Because I still waited. All alone, gazing with deep emptiness out into the night…”

He couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking his head as he pressed his forehead against her shoulder, his hand drifting up that skirt, fingers leaving a burning trail against her thigh. “Babe, I’m wounded. Literally. Forgive me?”

She finally released a low moan that time, unable to help it when his touch made her toes twitch. His black shirt clung to his skin, barely hiding that lithe form she currently aching for. He was really distracting. “I will after you are punished.”

He surrendered, kissing her shoulder before giving a little smile. “Okay. What is my punishment, Ira?”

She smirked, setting the glass of wine down on the table before turning to him, her hand pushing his away from her legs. “You can’t touch me.”

He flinched, his brow furrowing as he pouted. “That’s not fair.”

“Now, now, I can touch you. I can do whatever I want to you and trust me there are…” Her eyes looked him up and down, “So many things I want do to you. You just have to lie there…” She leaned her body against his, pushing him down against the couch, his head resting on the soft leather arm, “And let me.”

Some cuts along his back caused him to release a hiss as his shirt rode up. However, looking up into those bright, warm eyes, Ira’s body firmly pressed against him, her powerful hips holding him down. He could not protest. In fact, he was finding her terms more than agreeable. “I can do that.” He moved his hands behind his head, his hips jerking against hers. “I’m your prisoner. Punish me as you see fit.”

Oh, he had to do that, didn’t he? Had to say those words in that husky tone of voice, hips pressing against her. She shuddered, looking forward to the banquet underneath her. Her lips pressed against his, kissing him hungrily, forcing his mouth opened. He groaned in return, kissing her back as deeply as he could, their tongues and taste mingling together. He clasped his fingers tightly together, his face flushed against that messy and passionate kiss. 

She cooed as his hips shifted up a bit against hers again. She pulled back from those soft, delicious lips to bite down on his earlobe in a warning, “Don’t move like that. It’s really distracting.”

He flinched at that little of pain before giving a wink, “A beautiful woman is on top of me. I can’t help it.”

She frowned, her mouth moving from his ear to his neck, her teeth pressing down at against the pale skin, “Behave…”

There was more than the pain in that bite, a whimper escaping his lips, “O-Okay…”

That was quite the reaction. Tristan’s voice weakened, a tinge of vulnerability mingling with concern and undeniable lust. She pulled back from his neck, gazing at that hint of red left on his porcelain skin; a tiny rose, budding from a most welcoming place. She moved forward, giving that small bud a lick.


Coda Languez is a Software Engineer by day and an Artist/Author by night. She is lover of all things anime, horror, and comic related, making her a true geek in all aspects. Heavily influenced by the works of Satoshi Kon, Kouta Hirano, Francesca Lia Block, and Clive Barker, Coda mixes black comedy, horror, magic realism, and dark romance into her works, creating an ‘it’s complicated’ relationship between readers and her anti-heroic, even villainous protagonists.

When she is not programming in her day job or writing psychological terrifying romances and dark action comedies in the night hours, Coda often binges on anime, fantasy, and sci-fi sagas and indulges in competition reality tv (a guilty pleasure). She is the mother of an adorable toddler and his Pembroke Welsh Corgi brothers, and wife to an awesome and often exasperated husband.

For information on Coda’s latest works, visit codemonkeyarts.com or connect with her on social media via @codemonkeyarts.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram / TikTok


GIVEAWAY!

2x signed copies of A Beautiful Lie + swag (stickers and a postcard)

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Dead Winner by Kevin G. Chapman Book Tour and Review!

 

Dead Winner by Kevin G Chapman

Book and Author Information


  • Purchase link: kindle: https://mybook.to/DeadWinner_Amazon (pre-order; launching November 24)

  • Paperback, hardback and audiobook – TBC available soon

  • Genre:  Crime Thriller (Romantic)

  • Print length: 312 pages (80K words)

  • Age range: This is an adult book, but would be suitable for some mature teens age 16+

  • Trigger warnings: consensual sexual scenes, non-graphic

  • Amazon Rating: Not yet launched; 5* pre-publication ratings

ABOUT DEAD WINNER


Dead Winner is a treasure-hunt mystery/thriller with a love story. Or is it? It’s the story of a lonely, cautious lawyer, Rory, who has the chance to step out of his riskless life, become the hero he pretends to be in video adventure games, and win the heart of Monica, the only woman he ever loved.

When Monica and her husband, Tom, discover they have a $60 million winning lottery ticket, old friend Rory is roped in to help them set up a trust to manage the money. So far so good – except that the next week, Tom is found dead with a gunshot to his head, apparently a suicide.

Why would such a lucky man take his own life?  And if it’s murder, why would his lovely wife become a suspect?  And more than that…. Where is the winning lottery ticket?


PRAISE FOR DEAD WINNER


“Dead Winner is a fun read with some VERY surprising twists! Fans of Michael Connelly and James Patterson will be impressed with this intriguing mystery thriller.” – Dan Alatorre, USA today bestselling author of The Gamma Sequence and Double Blind

“This story has it all; intriguing characters, a plot that would satisfy Machiavelli himself and my personal favourite, a lovable protagonist. I couldn’t stop reading until the twisted end. Very satisfying!” – Anna Willett, author of Dear Neighbour and the bestselling Lucy Hush series

“This action-packed thrill ride of a neo-noir keeps us guessing and turns up the tension at every turn. You’ll love this wild race and the twisty, dramatic finish.” – Valerie J. Brooks author of 1 Last Betrayal: the Third Book in the Angeline Porter Trilogy

“Mystery readers who look for more than whodunit elements will find Dead Winner compelling. It takes the time to build relationship puzzles into its overlying mystery; creates a strong, likeable, but flawed character in Rory McEntyre; and it develops realistic atmospheres to support its action and inquiries.” – D. Donovan, Sr. Reviewer, Midwest Book Review

“A magnificent story that kept this reader turning the pages. Both thrilling and intriguing, all the way to the end.” – Amy’s Bookshelf Reviews


My Thoughts

Kevin Chapman is the author of Dead Winner, a standalone novel, that tells the story of Rory McAvoy, and his old friends Tom and Monica.
Monica and Tom come to see Rory out of the blue to help them with an issue. They won the lottery and want Tom to set up a trust. They have the ticket and all seems above board, until Tom is found dead, an apparent suicide, or is it?

Monica as the grieving widow comes to rely on Rory for companionship and help. Is she really the grieving widow though? People start coming out of the woodwork to try to get the ticket and whatever else they think Tom had.

The detectives on the case are trying to figure out what really happened to Tom and why. Rory finds that the firm that Tom worked for is not above board.

This is one of those novels that has a lot of twisty and turning events. Can Monica and Rory stay safe? Then there is Monica, I kind of figured out the ending a bit before I got there, but it was still a surprise for me.

If you love a story that can keep you turning the pages and stay up all night finishing the book, that is a good one in my opinion.
I give it 5 stars.

I received a copy of the book for review purposes only.

Kevin Chapman is an attorney specializing in labor and employment law.  His passion (aside from playing tournament poker and rooting for his beloved New York Mets) is writing fiction. He recently completed the first five books in his Mike Stoneman Thriller series.

Kevin writes: “The process of writing crime thrillers involves hours of thinking about and talking about how to kill people. And how to get away with it. It also involves figuring out how my protagonist detectives might solve the case. But mostly it’s about planning out ingenious ways to murder people. My wife is a willing participant in this process (so she must trust me). My current book is more of a mystery, and a little bit of a tragic romance. But all the stories are about the characters. If you don’t care about them, then I’m not doing my job.”



Kevin G Chapman welcomes communication from his readers – including comments, ideas, disagreements and critiques. He can be contacted via any of the links below:

Author website: https://kevingchapman.com/

The Mike Stoneman Thriller Group on Facebook

Email him at kevin[at]kevingchapman[dot]com

He is also on Twitter (@KGChapman) and Instagram (@kevingchapman)



Illuminated by Iris Marsh Blog Tour!

 

Illuminated
Iris Marsh


Publication date: November 21st 2022
Genres: Coming of Age, Fantasy, Thriller, Young Adult

In this coming-of-age YA contemporary fantasy, a teenage girl has her life turned upside down when her family is breaking apart, and she discovers her supernatural powers. There’s no time to deal with it, however, as she’s targeted by a dangerous power-siphoner.

Nikki Chase, a 16-year-old striver, feels like her life is falling apart around her. Her parents’ marriage seems in trouble, her best friend prefers to spend time with the popular girl, and she’s quite certain she’s on the verge of a psychosis. After all, normal people don’t see colors around people or hear voices, right?

When a volunteering assignment leads her to a mental hospital, Nikki is determined to figure out what’s going on with her—and if perhaps she belongs in that facility. What she discovers is nothing she expected: Lorene, a volunteer, tells Nikki she’s not crazy but, in fact, has the power to influence people’s thoughts and beliefs. However, someone has been sucking the power out of people just like her, leaving them behind as an empty shell. Desperate for help and someone to trust, Nikki teams up with Lorene to discover who is behind the siphoning. But can she stop them before she becomes a victim? And can she do so without becoming addicted to the power herself?

Fans of suspenseful contemporary fantasy will love this YA coming-of-age fantasy thriller book about coping with difficult emotions, navigating relationships with family and friends, and the addictive quality of power.

Goodreads / Amazon


Iris Marsh is a behavioral researcher turned writer. As such, she focuses on her character’s journeys as well as the plot. Her YA fantasy debut novel Illuminated is no exception: it’s both suspenseful and heavy on character development. Currently, she lives in the Netherlands with her partner and cat.

She would be overjoyed if you visited her website IrisMarsh.com and would love it if you followed her journey on Instagram.

Website / Goodreads / Pinterest / Instagram

GIVEAWAY!

A signed copy of Illuminated

a Rafflecopter giveaway


27 November 2022

When the Glow Lights the Woods by Eule Grey New Release Blitz! @ninestarpress @indigomarketingdesign #LGBTQIA+

 

Title:  When the Glow Lights the Woods

Author: Eule Grey

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 11/22/2022

Heat Level: 1 - No Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 28200

Genre: Fantasy, LGBTQIA+, alternate universe/dystopia, winter/Christmas festivity, gay, YA, coming of age, first love, teacher, animals, conflicting societies, rich vs. poor, physical difference, family drama, friends to lovers

Add to Goodreads


A snowy story of healing, birds, and the magic of connection.

The Wall? Who gives a snowman’s kiss about when the wars ended, or who built the divide that goes all the way around the planet? Whatever!

All anyone cares about is Christmas, when one lucky person gets to date someone from the other side. Who will it be this year?

Eighteen-year-old Kite Ripples loves birds, animals, and gazing at stars. He’s a good brother to leader, Mal. Mostly. As teacher, it’s Kite’s responsibility to dispel the rumours about people on the other side being robots—just a myth, right? Deep down, he understands no human is better, or worse, than any other. And, if he dreams of meeting a guy like him—who wants to kiss—it doesn’t mean Kite’s a rebel. Not he!

Manu Feathers, also eighteen, lives on the other side. Gets into trouble. Likes boys. Breaks laws and wants more. Like everyone, he’s fixated on those over the divide—simultaneously scared and excited by rumours of too much sex. It’s a lot to get your head round.

Kite is selected to climb under the Wall, and it’s the best Christmas present ever. But nothing goes to plan. Instead of picking the perfect boy, all he notices is the guy on the end, acting out. Who’d choose a nuisance like him?

Can the highest Wall prevent first love? Can a kiss heal a baby bird?

Excerpt

When the Glow Lights the Woods
Eule Grey © 2022
All Rights Reserved

By breakfast time on the first day of December, I was dizzy with excitement. Drunk from the intoxicating question on everyone’s lips. Barely able to focus. More talkative than normal and in no way fit for work.

Is the Wall glowing?

I didn’t dare hope he’d allow me to skip duties, but it was worth a try.

“Mal? Can I miss work today? How about it, huh? It’s very important to be mentally ready. You know—because of representing our side. You don’t want me nodding off. I’m extremely tired from the, er, stress.”

Is the Wall glowing? Is it?

My brother remained strict and inferred I was a lazy oaf.

“Stress? Ha-ha, hee-hee. Nice try. Get out there, eighteen-year-old grandad! Sooner you start work, the sooner you’ll finish.”

Normally, I’d have stayed around to point out the scientific flaws in his doubtful logic but didn’t fancy a battle. Not so close to Christmas.

Despite sparkling frost and breaky-necky ice, duties beckoned. I fed the chickens and collected eggs—fifteen, woo-hoo. Attempted to fix their enclosure fence and forgot to close the gate. The hens squawked with glee and galloped off over the frozen parsnip fields. Not even such catastrophe dampened my spirits—I hopped over to my brother and innocently raked leaves.

“Ma-aal? Someone’s broken the fence. The hens are free. Could you?”

With herculean efforts, I survived the day, even managing a sneaky read, albeit a quickie. We weren’t supposed to read during work time. If my sister found out, there’d be trouble. Bar knocking myself unconscious, what else could a guy do? Reading remained the only certain method of calming frazzled nerves. My equilibrium, tenuous at best, was ruined by the magnitude of the occasion.

Glow day! Man-o-the-moon. After a lifetime of wishing, my dream hovered within a snowman’s breath. I, Kite Ripples, teacher—chosen to sound the annual alarm. Maybe. Hopefully. If the time was right.

A guard’s duties were fairly simple: on the first of the month, the anointed—me—trudged the length of the fruit fields and across Troll Bridge. Through Frogs Wood and onwards to the Wall, I went with the question mentally lit like the brightest fire.

Is it Glow Day?

The distance to the Wall from our caravan wasn’t far. The ground between tended towards bogginess, conditions often cold enough to freeze resolve. Still, it was a very easy journey. Just…follow the Wall. It ran through our land and on forever, covering the planet, or so people said. Not even Kite Ripples could get lost, and I was extremely talented in that particular department. My brother liked to tell stories of tying toddler me to the kissing tree because of my childish wandering habits. Always curious, even as a tiny boy.

We each got a turn to be guard, even me. At eighteen, I was the youngest of my generation and the only member not yet anointed. People said going under the Wall changed your life and perspectives. My sister, Ana, claimed the experience made her crave stability. Following anointment, she partnered Rich and produced three gorgeous kids. When I asked why going under the Wall caused such an effect, she shrugged and said I’d have to wait to find out. It was different for everyone.

According to Mal, the magic occurred during the infamous meeting between anointed and special person. Nobody agreed on the details. Many argued it manifested as immense happiness. Mal stuck with his theory about magic emanating from the glow like green, seeking fingers.

What if all I sensed was a stomachache? Kite Ripples got the sicks, ha-ha-ha.

Halfway through the tunnel, the anointed reached a metallic doorway positioned between two worlds. Some fled. My friend Luca had swivelled around at that point and headed for home.

I was determined not to run. Not me. Like my brother and sister before, I was hell-bent on reaching the other side and helping my people on their journey towards self-dependency.

Mal declared the return journey the most profound aspect of the whole process. Nobody remembered exactly what happened. Whereas most agreed the meetings were impactful, my brother claimed to have been ‘unchanged.’

Not true. Mal had been affected all right. Though normally a private fella who didn’t reveal much, following his anointment, he wept into my hair. Ever since, on the day of the glow, his eyes became starry, and he reached for the guitar. Despite my best efforts, he wouldn’t talk about what had happened over there.

The purpose of the meetings was simply to enable both sides to learn, to have experience without judgment. Our visits were strictly regulated by both sides. Elders had signed the important documents, such as aims and agreements, long before my time.

According to community histories, the elders were our parents. Who knew? They vanished when I was a baby. They’d set off with the intention of making alliances with lands beyond, far away, in the forbidden direction. None had returned. Amazingly, we survived, flourished, and expanded, even without elders. We lived off farms, orchards, rivers, and allotments, as well as a small library. Some years, we did well, others, not so good. It depended on the erratic, unpredictable seasons.

When the longest afternoon waned, Ana gave the nod, meaning I was allowed to set off. “Time to check the Wall. Be careful, Kite. Don’t trip and twist your ankle like Gurti.”

My sister always looked out for me, same as everyone in our land. I loved her and hoped to bring home good news. “I will. Don’t worry.”

Mal waited by the fence encircling our camp. He grinned and opened his arms. “My little brother. Are you ready for the glow?”

“Yeah!”

During the night, he said he wished he could accompany me. But, rules. The anointed must travel alone to check for the glow. It aided the process of ‘finding yourself’, according to Ana. Knowing me, I’d find myself and not like the person I met. Kite Ripples, anomaly.

My brother passed across a bag. “Water and emergency sandwich. Come straight home, yeah? If you’re not back by and by, I’ll come find you. Okay? If you fall and get hurt, just stay calm and wait.”

Worrying was not new. Mal, Ana, and the other older members of our camp tended to fear the worst. Because they remembered the elders leaving…

My brother had always babied me. Mal liked to be in charge, and I wasn’t as physically strong as the others. It bothered me when I was younger.

Despite a dodgy track record, I determined not to fall or do anything stupid. “I’m eighteen. Old enough to—well—tackle the world. Ha-ha. See you later.”

He watched me leave with arms crossed and an expression like a summer storm. “Be careful!”

As one, my community cheered my exit from camp. “Kite, Kite, Kite! Find the Christmas glow! Is the Wall glowing? Good luck. Don’t let robots turn you to stone.”

I tutted and laughed. “Ha, ha. Very funny. Not.”

Mal said the rumour about the other side behaving like robots wasn’t true—a night story for kids, nothing more. Still, artificial people… With a shudder, I’d hidden the only book in the library about robots with blank eyes and metallic antennae. No point in dwelling.

Despite Mal’s warning about being surefooted, I ran. My emotions ranged from high—low—extra-high—low. By Frogs Wood, I was a mess, questioning if the time was right. What if I’d made a mistake about days and times? It was possible yet not likely, since I was a community librarian and teacher. Nobody else bothered with books or dates.

Head down, so as not to spoil the surprise, I finally passed the last tree of Frogs Wood and stepped into the clearing. High—low—high-high-high.

Man-o-the-moon! Green, pink, and yellow lights arched across our dense woods in a resplendent rainbow. Sparkling stars flashed and merged with the subtle shades of nature.

For a while, I was caught by the visage of ancient forces of light and dark squaring up for a fight. I stood, frozen by a green glowing pulse battering the gloom before retreating over the Wall.

When coldness bit, I stumbled towards home with an unsteady, painful gait—run—lope—run—trip. Frogs Wood and the winding river. A stitch. Run—lope—stumble—trip—stagger onto Troll Bridge.

Ahead, I made out the shapes of our caravans and the outline of my waiting brother. Excitement burst free into a yell-cum-shout. “It’s lit! The Wall is lit by the glow. I’ve never seen anything like it. Christmastime, Mal. Woo-oo. Tomorrow, I get to go under!”

Instead of cheering as expected, my brother gazed towards the woods, hands clasped together across his heart. His expression was difficult to decipher.

“Always,” he said. “Always, my darling.”

“Mal! Puke.”

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Eule Grey has settled, for now, in the north UK. She’s worked in education, justice, youth work, and even tried her hand at butter-spreading in a sandwich factory. Sadly, she wasn’t much good at any of them! She writes novels, novellas, poetry, and a messy combination of all three. Nothing about Eule is tidy but she rocks a boogie on a Saturday night! For now, Eule is she/her or they/them. Eule has not yet arrived at a pronoun that feels right.

Website | Facebook | Twitter

Giveaway

$50.00 NineStar Press Gift Code!

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Heartbeat by Nicholas Brown New Release Blitz! @ninestarpress @indigomarketingdesign #LGBTQIA+

 Title:  Heartbeat

Author: Nicholas Brown

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 11/22/2022

Heat Level: 2 - Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 70500

Genre: Contemporary, LGBTQIA+, contemporary, romance, YA, high school, bisexual, pansexual, hurt/comfort, depression, grieving, therapy sessions

Add to Goodreads

Thomas Hart lives in the numb aftermath of his brother’s tragic death. After spending six months institutionalized for attempted suicide, Thomas returns home to build a new life for himself. He goes to therapy, starts over at a different high school, and makes new friends. All while completely abandoning his old reputation as a state champion swimmer. Or so he thought.

Thomas can’t seem to get resident star athlete Ethan Cooper out of his head. With dimples that have a track record and a kind touch capable of all but unravelling him, Ethan is everything Thomas can’t seem to have, or be. Because there’s no going back to the person he was before the accident that claimed his brother’s life.

So the question hangs. Can Thomas embrace his new existence, make peace with the past, and embrace a future that may include falling in love? Or will his old life continue to barge in, preventing him from moving on?

Excerpt

Heartbeat
Nicholas Brown © 2022
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
Waking Up

I didn’t remember much about what had happened. I remembered how it felt, waking up. How I’d had all these wires and tubes coming out of my chest and arms and how, as I looked around the room, there was no one there. I also recalled being tied to the bed—that I remembered quite well; I dozed off shortly after noticing it. Dr. Foster stood next to me, watching as she waited for me to come to. We talked for a bit. You know how it goes, if your brain is deprived of oxygen for an x amount of time things have a tendency of getting…messy. So we went through the usual questions. I told her my name, my age, where I lived, and who my parents were—stuff like that. Then she asked if I remembered how I’d gotten there.

I didn’t answer.

Not because I didn’t know, which I didn’t, but rather because I knew she’d tell me eventually, which she did. We’d both done this before, so I knew she must’ve had a good reason for not smiling like she usually did whenever we found ourselves in this particular situation. It was then that she told me Noah was the one who’d found me. It was also then that I began feeling like complete and utter shit and started sweating profusely.

Who lets their kid brother witness something like that?

I knew I didn’t. I fucking wouldn’t. He was supposed to be out. There was a party or a birthday or whatever it was that made him all but beg our dad to let him spend the night at Joe’s. He was supposed to be out.

Dr. Foster handed me her scarf, which I readily took, even though I had no idea what she was trying to do. It was pretty—black and blood-red with this sort of English pattern printed on it. She untied my left hand and touched her face, as if showing me something. I mimicked her. Turned out I wasn’t sweating. I’d started to cry, and the fact that I didn’t even recognize it immediately should have been enough to illustrate just how fucked up a person I really was.

I stopped talking after that. I didn’t say another word, except for when I told Dr. Foster I wasn’t going to repeat my behavior anytime soon. She looked pleased with the words that floated from my mouth, most of which were actual truths this time. One of Dr. Foster’s biggest talents had always been how good she was at discerning between truths, half-truths, and lies; one of my biggest talents had always been knowing just how much information to supply to keep our relationship well balanced. Basically, I knew when to shut up.

My name is Thomas Hart. I’m seventeen years old, and I live in New York City, NY. My parents are Jane and Lucius Hart, and I have a kid brother called Noah.

This was my second suicide attempt in as many years, and it earned me a six-month stay in the psych ward of St. Yve’s Hospital. It was also my last one—at least for the foreseeable future. I didn’t want to break anyone’s heart. I didn’t want my brother or anyone else to suffer too much. So, I’d wait. At least until I could be sure Noah would be okay.

I’d wait.

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Nicholas Brown is a philosopher and an award-winning literary fiction writer obsessed with all things relating to infinity. Discovering new music he can write to and watching films—especially Nouvelle Vague cinema—over and over again are a few of his favorite things to do in this life. Nicholas would be the first to admit he is, in fact, a cynic, yet because life and the universe seem to have a somewhat twisted sense of humor, he cannot help but write love stories, nor can he help believing one of these days he will actually live one. That is perhaps the only paradox he accepts, for he has no other choice.

Nicholas calls certain versions of himself “his ghosts,” mainly because he’s lived a life divided into sections: the years he was not himself; the ones he was absent for; times when he felt better; times when he wished he could feel; moments he felt seen…versions of a self, of him.

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$50.00 NineStar Press Gift Code!

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26 November 2022

Baggage Claim by @author.juliana.smith Book Blitz! #julianasmith #BaggageClaim #XpressoTours @XpressoTours⁣

 

Baggage Claim
Juliana Smith


Publication date: November 26th 2022
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Olive Moore has been avoiding her hometown for three years now. But a phone call with her mom has her agreeing to spend the holidays back home with her family, she lets it slip she will be bringing a boyfriend with her. The only problem with that is she has no boyfriend. That is until she meets a handsome—albeit annoying—stranger on the plane who makes her an offer she can’t refuse.

Finn Beckett has always had good luck, as demonstrated by the gorgeous blonde he’s seated next to on a flight to Aspen. One drink too many leads to Olive spilling her problems in his lap, and he feels compelled to help. So he makes her an offer: he’ll pretend to be her boyfriend to keep her family off her back and make this the best Christmas ever.

Olive and Finn spend the next two weeks going on spirit-filled Christmas dates with her family. Their ruse is working perfectly, but Finn can’t help but notice Olive is holding something back. Something that could ruin everything.

Their relationship may have taken off smoothly, but with all this turbulence, will they ever make it to baggage claim?

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble

EXCERPT:

“Olive,” I said, her name like a prayer. I didn’t have anything else to say; I only wanted her to see me.

Her bright green eyes lifted to mine, and I melted. My hand reached under her chin and rubbed my thumb across it. So beautiful. She took a step closer, her chest brushing my midsection, and I nearly groaned from the simple contact. She leaned into me like she was on autopilot, and I was her only destination. I cautiously slid my hand from her chin to the back of her neck. She swallowed, and the movement of her throat pulled me in like runway lights calling me home. I moved closer, hesitantly, our faces only inches away. She would have stopped me, right? She would have given me that sassy attitude and pushed me away if she didn’t want this. The Olive I knew wouldn’t let me get this far. I paused, unsure.

“Tell me to stop.”

I needed to hear it. To hear her yell at me. To have her say, “I told you no kissing,” and give me a shove. If she didn’t, I would take her on this bed right now, without a care of who else was in the house.

She grabbed my white button-down and pulled me impossibly closer. “No.”

It was quiet, barely a whisper. I tightened my grip on her neck and leaned forward.

This was it. Everything you have thought of nonstop since that flight. I was going to kiss the hell out of her. I was going to leave her lips swollen and numb until she was dizzy and floating.

I tilted her head up with my spare hand and inched my lips toward hers slowly,

ready to throw all caution to the wind.

“Finn.” She moaned my name before my lips were even on her, and I forced my heart not to explode. We were a dyad, two halves of the same whole. She was the best I ever had, and I hadn’t even had her yet. My lips were a centimeter from hers. Finally. Finally.


Juliana Smith is an author in a small town in Alabama. She is a full-time realtor, and part-time author, but she spends a lot of her time with her husband and daughter. Juliana writes heartfelt romance filled with laughter and warm fuzzies. She can usually be found in a Chic-fil-a drive-thru or listening to Star Wars theory podcasts, often at the same time.


 

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Three Kings by Freydis Moon New Release Blitz! @ninestarpress @indigomarketingdesign #LGBTQIA+

 

 Title:  Three Kings

Author:  Freydis Moon

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 11/22/2022

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male, Male/Male Menage

Length: 38300

Genre: Fantasy, LGBTQIA+, fantasy/PNR, trans, gay, polyamorous, cozy romance, witches/modern witchcraft, cottagecore, shifter, interracial, magic, magical flora and produce, Icelandic folklore, lighthouse/small coastal town, stormy beaches, sexual tension, selkie

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A polyamorous modern-day fairytale filled with magical flora, cozy romance, and Icelandic folklore…

Ethan Shaw—lighthouse keeper and local witch—lives a charmed life in his chilly, coastal hometown. Blessed with a flourishing garden and a stable livelihood, Ethan can’t complain. But when his husband, Captain Peter Vásquez, brings home a wounded seal after an impromptu storm, Ethan is faced with a curious situation: caring for a lost selkie named Nico Locke.

As Ethan struggles with the possibility of being infertile, insecurities surrounding his marriage, and a newly formed magical bond with a hostile, handsome selkie, his comfortable life begins to fracture. But could breakage lead to something better?

With autumn at their heels and winter on the horizon, Ethan, Peter, and Nico test the boundaries of a new relationship, shared intimacy, and the chance at a future together.

Excerpt

Three Kings
Freydís Moon © 2022
All Rights Reserved

Ethan Shaw carried two knives, one for lilies, the other for veins. The blade in his left hand curved like a smile, clipping stems at a sweet, diagonal angle. The second weapon was concealed in a petite leather sheath, tucked neatly in his right palm.

The ritual called for innocence, and he had none to spare, so he searched the shoreline for white-petaled flowers—speckled with saltwater, yawning toward the sky—and remembered the folktale that wormed through Casper, spoken quietly at the pub, hollered by sailors on the docks, cooed in the apothecary, and sung by children on the playground.

Those Casper lilies, the story went, are filled to the brim with what we’ve lost.

Like snakes, the townsfolk shed their innocence, leaving it to stew in the bay, sink into the soil, and beat against the lighthouse. And like snakes, the lilies drew their outgrown magic into tangled roots and narrow stems and gilded pollen: an ouroboros consuming itself.

Most people refused to use the term—magic—but Ethan found it appropriate. Harvesting long-gone energy from a living thing felt like its very definition. Using said magic to reanimate a corpse felt less like magic, though, and more like recklessness.

He yelped and flailed before he hit the water, bracing for the icy shock. Panic shot through him. Salt water rushed into his nostrils, and seaweed snagged his ankle. Swim, idiot. November wind nipped his face when he breached, sucking at the air, clutching drenched flowers to his chest. Casper lilies never promised to be easy, of course. But Ethan Shaw still cursed as he slushed through tidepools and mud. He sighed, relieved, when his soggy shoes hit the gravel path outside the tower.

“We need a lightkeeper, Ethan,” he mocked, shouldering through the wooden door. He left his boots in a puddle on the cheeky welcome mat: You Better Be Beer! “It’s a solid wage, Ethan. Not like it’s a—” The first knife clattered on the rectangular table, then the second. Sopping flowers landed with a splat next to an unopened power bill. “—hard gig, Ethan. Just take it.” He whined through the last three words, mimicking his mother, and trudged into the washroom.

He hadn’t the time for a bath, so he peeled the wet shirt from his back, unzipped his jeans, and wrestled out of his drenched binder. The chilly water had reddened his beige skin and left his boyish face chapped and raw. Droplets clung to his chestnut hair, shorn behind his ears and around the back of his skull, and worn long at his crown, hanging in messy strings over his brow. He slicked his hair back with an annoyed swipe and scrubbed lingering sea grime away with a warm cloth. He dried with a towel that smelled like gardenia and tobacco, like Peter, and set his palms on the vanity, studying his reflection. Rabbit-framed, small-chested, wide-hipped, and delicately masculine, Ethan Shaw wasn’t the optimal lightkeeper type, per se. He hadn’t a beard, only annoying stubble, and carried himself on dainty, soft-pawed feet. Much as the townsfolk whispered about lilies, they whispered about him too.

Witch—hissed like a match strike in the nave and murmured by joggers at the park—wasn’t entirely untrue, but Ethan still preferred friendlier terminology. Alchemist, maybe. Magician, even.

“Take the job, Ethan,” he mumbled and huffed at the mirror. “Surely the lifestyle suits you.”

A job doing, literally, anything else would’ve suited him better.

The front door heaved open, and the clip-clopping of heavy boots filled the living quarters. “Why is the floor wet?” Peter repeated the question, hollering through the lighthouse, “Darling, why is the floor wet?”

Ethan rolled his eyes. “I slipped,” he called, toeing the washroom door ajar.

Peter rounded the doorframe, square glasses crooked on his nose. Surprise shot to his face, but the expression faded, chased away by a frown. “You didn’t,” he warned, snaring Ethan’s reflection in a hard glare. “Ethan, we talked about this—”

“I don’t need your permission,” he snapped and slipped past Peter, striding confidently into the adjacent bedroom. He opened a drawer and fingered through his clothes, settling on a red sweater and corduroy trousers. “I’ve got the flowers; I know the ritual. Either have faith in me, or say I told you so if it doesn’t work, but hovering like a—” He batted at Peter’s broad chest. “—damn moth won’t change my mind. How was work?”

“Long,” Peter bit out. “Choppy water makes for terrible fishing, as you know. Even the local wildlife can’t handle the riptide—as you know—and consistently get thrown ashore, as you know, and—”

“You brought it home, not me.”

“I brought it home while it was still breathing,” Peter said, exasperated. He trailed Ethan into the closet, craning over him while he searched for wool socks—matching, preferably—and then into the kitchen, sighing dramatically at the waterlogged lilies. “Where’d you put the poor thing, anyway? Is it still in the garden shed?”

“No, I tossed it in the bathtub.” Ethan shot him an impatient glare. “Yes, of course, it’s in the garden shed, Peter. You think I’d let a selkie loose in our home? Give me some credit.”

“Okay, wait, hold on—wait.” Peter feebly attempted to catch him while he bounced around the kitchen.

Ethan yanked a bowl out of the cabinet, slid both knives behind his leather belt, unfastened the lavender from a rope above the sink, and stuffed his mortar and pestle underneath his arm. Before he could make for the door, two palms clasped his waist, turning him, and his beautiful, ridiculous husband wrinkled his nose. His copper cheeks were sea-bitten, angular bones pressing hard against his skin. As always, Peter Vásquez looked dashing, exhausted, and worried.

“Ay Dios mío, just wait, okay?” Peter asked.

Ethan arched an eyebrow. After a strangled pause, he lifted onto his tiptoes. “You brought it home,” he whispered and pecked Peter on the lips.

“It’s a leopard seal, Ethan. Not a selkie,” he said patiently, as he would to a toddler. “And it’s dead because animals that get caught in bad weather sometimes die.”

Ethan patted his cheek. “Sure, yeah. So, the next time you’re caught in bad weather and someone plops you on my doorstep, I’ll cash in your life insurance and call it a day. How’s that sound?”

Peter winced. “You’re impossible.”

“And you’re in my way.” Perhaps that was a little too far, considering. But impossible? Ethan scoffed. He wasn’t the one who’d mistaken a fae-beast—an extraordinarily obvious fae-beast, by the way—for a run-of-the-mill seal, and he wasn’t the one who’d whimpered when said not-seal had stopped breathing, and he certainly wasn’t the one who’d dragged a goddamn selkie home from work.

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Freydís Moon (they/them) is a biracial nonbinary writer and diviner. When they aren’t writing or divining, Freydís is usually trying their hand at a recommended recipe, practicing a new language, or browsing their local bookstore.

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Devil’s Boneyard MC series, Stripes by @harleywylde Book Blitz! #harleywylde #Stripes #XpressoTours @XpressoTours⁣

 

Stripes
Harley Wylde


(Devil’s Boneyard MC, #12)
Published by: Changeling Press
Publication date: November 18th 2022
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Melina — Men have never given me a reason to trust them. The Bratva taught me men are brutal. Selfish. And take what they want. Death would be better than tying myself to one ever again. Then a Russian biker swoops in to save me. As much as I want to believe everything he says, how can I? I’ve only known pain at the hands of men. I want him to be different… but any hope I had died long ago.

Stripes — She thinks she’s broken. I see a survivor. A strong woman who’s still standing despite what’s been done to her. It will take time, but I’ll help her heal. Prove not all men are evil. I’ll give her a reason to keep living. Never again will someone cause her pain. If they do, they’ll answer to me. My hands are already stained with blood. What’s a little more?

WARNING: Recommended for readers 18+ due to language, violence, and adult situations. Stripes is part of the Devil’s Boneyard MC series and contains darker content some readers may find objectionable. Stripes can be read as a stand-alone story, even though it’s part of a series

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SNEAK PEEK:

Melina

Marriage to Ruslan had been nothing but pure hell since day one. He’d given me two beautiful daughters, and I wouldn’t wish them away for anything, but every other moment of our lives had been only pain and humiliation. I’d learned early never to speak back, and to never ask questions. If he told me to do something, I did it, regardless of whether I should.

Which was how I found myself in trouble.

I bowed my head, refusing to make eye contact with Feliks Sobol. The higher ups had left him in charge for some reason, not that it mattered. When Ruslan forced me to aid him in his thirst for power, I’d known it wouldn’t end well for me. But I’d done it, because the alternative would mean letting him kill me, and leaving my girls vulnerable. I’d have done anything to keep Yulia and Oksana safe. Although, I had a feeling Ruslan had embellished my involvement. One last chance for him to make my life hell.

“Melina Romanov, do you know why you’re here?” Feliks asked.

Nyet, Mr. Sobol.” No one had told me outright why I’d been brought in. The fact my husband hadn’t returned home had left me uneasy. They had to have caught him, and now I’d pay the price as well. Ruslan wouldn’t go down without a fight, and nothing would delight him more than knowing the Bratva would destroy me.

“Your husband is guilty of breaking multiple laws. He tried to cheat the Bratva, and he’s failed. At this very moment, he’s being tortured to gain more information on those who aided him.” He tapped his fingers on the desk. “Your name came up.”

I clenched my hands. It didn’t surprise me. Anything Ruslan had asked me to do could possibly have tied into his human trafficking ring. I wouldn’t have known since he told me very little. Although, I did know what he’d been up to. He hadn’t kept it a secret from me. In fact, I thought he got off on letting me know about the women and children who would suffer at his hands. If I’d gone to anyone without proof, they wouldn’t have believed me.

“Nothing to say?” Feliks asked.

“Will it matter?” I doubted it. If my husband hadn’t cared what I had to say, why would this man? In the Bratva, women were to be seen and not heard. We were merely a decoration, or a means to gain power through political marriages. Nothing more. Except in my husband’s case, we were meant for twisted forms of entertainment. The louder we screamed, the more he got off on the pain he inflicted.

“For your crimes, you’ll spend the rest of your days in one of our brothels. Seems fitting, doesn’t it? You’re guilty of helping Ruslan Romanov steal women and children and selling them into sexual slavery. Now you’ll be in the same predicament. Just so we’re clear, it won’t be one of our upscale places.”

I swallowed the knot of fear lodged in my throat and gave a short nod. Pleading for my life wouldn’t do me any good. Telling him I was innocent would only fall on deaf ears, or perhaps anger him. The thought of being used by countless men made me sick. I’d been a dutiful wife, and I’d been a virgin when Ruslan married me. I’d never been with anyone other than him. Of course, being in his bed had been far from pleasant, but I had a feeling my life would be much worse now.

“This is rather disappointing,” Feliks murmured. “I’d hoped for some sort of reaction. Do you enjoy being a whore? Is that why you aren’t crying and begging for me to spare you?”

Bile rose in my throat when I contemplated what my life would be like moving forward. I hadn’t liked my husband touching me. The thought of strangers paying to use me made me want to throw up. All my choices had been taken from me. I hadn’t had many to begin with. As long as they could pay, they’d be permitted to do whatever they wanted with me.

“Still nothing?” Feliks asked, pursing his lips.

“I don’t know what you want me to say,” I admitted. “Begging won’t do me any good. Saying I’m innocent won’t either. Whether I speak up or remain silent, my fate will remain the same.”

“Smart woman.” Feliks smiled, but the sight chilled me to the bone.


Harley Wylde is the International Bestselling Author of the Dixie Reapers MC, Devil's Boneyard MC, and Hades Abyss MC series.
When Harley's writing, her motto is the hotter the better -- off the charts sex, commanding men, and the women who can't deny them. If you want men who talk dirty, are sexy as hell, and take what they want, then you've come to the right place. She doesn't shy away from the dangers and nastiness in the world, bringing those realities to the pages of her books, but always gives her characters a happily-ever-after and makes sure the bad guys get what they deserve.

The times Harley isn't writing, she's thinking up naughty things to do to her husband, drinking copious amounts of Starbucks, and reading. She loves to read and devours a book a day, sometimes more. She's also fond of TV shows and movies from the 1980's, as well as paranormal shows from the 1990's to today, even though she'd much rather be reading or writing.

You can find out more about Harley or enter her monthly giveaway on her website. Be sure to join her newsletter while you're there to learn more about discounts, signing events, and other goodies!

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