Spark by Elizabeth Tybush New Release Blitz and Giveaway! @ninestarpress @indigomarketingdesign

Title: Spark

Series: The Fire of Felwing, Book Two

Author: Elizabeth Tybush

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 05/17/2022

Heat Level: 2 - Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 107300

Genre: Fantasy, LGBTQIA+, bisexual, pansexual, magic, dragons, slow burn, magic users, friends to lovers, mythical creatures, royalty, redemption, past mistakes, portals

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Description

Immediately following the stunning Halloween reveal in Flicker… Prince Solin Felwing’s exile on Earth went from tranquil to dangerous with a spark of magick. Now, severed from his redemption and his friends at the soup kitchen, Solin is left to sort out his unstable powers, his guilty conscience, and the realities of pursuing a relationship with a certain charming barista. At least his human friend Sam stuck around, although he’s getting tailed by his ex and his tech is going haywire, so things aren’t going great for him either. As the holidays draw near, Solin discovers his name on someone’s Naughty List. With a protection detail of ghosts from his past, and a growing threat from the rogue humans of the Shadowfall Alliance, Solin must keep his worlds from colliding without losing what few friends he has left. Because those hunting him no longer care about collateral damage; they’ll torch everything he’s built, and anyone who gets in the their way will be consumed by the flames.

Excerpt

Spark Elizabeth Tybush © 2022 All Rights Reserved

2017

Polaris, New York

The new ringtone I’d applied to Sam’s number echoed in the kitchen. I paused the television and glowered at the phone from the sofa. What now? Another blip notifying him of a portal from Cydrithenna? A warning that agents from the Shadowfall Alliance were on their way to kill me? Or had he merely hacked into my phone and heard what had happened with Brida on Halloween?

I’d already scolded myself enough for that. I didn’t deserve to have any semblance of my powers back, nor anyone’s kindness. Not after the terror I instilled in someone I cared about, someone who never did anything wrong and who did not betray me. I had betrayed her. I had become my worst nightmare. I hadn’t changed at all.

The phone ceased ringing. A minor pause. It blared again.

“Fine.” If this curse was going to fade on me, then I might as well make use of my powers. I continued lying on the sofa and willed the phone toward me with telekinesis. It floated unsteadily. With illusory magick, I transformed it into a tablet, then a chair, then a dog. Easy enough. I returned it to its original state and answered.

“What.”

“Did I wake you? You sound pissed.”

“What do you want, Sam?”

“I want you to get out of there and come hang out with me.”

“Goodbye, Sam.”

The phone rang again the moment I hung up.

“Sam. I mean it. I’m not interested. And since when do you call me again? I thought those friends of yours had gotten access to your phone.”

“Line’s safe again. Trust me,” he said over the sound of clanking glasses and laughter. “And hey, whatever’s bothering you, I promise, it’s not going to—yeah, two more of those, and a round for that table over there, yeah, thanks—sorry. It’s not going to bother you anymore, I promise.”

I rubbed my forehead. Although my powers had returned, the ability to erase tension headaches eluded me. “Are you at a bar?”

“Yes, and you should be here too. I’ll text you the address.”

The thought of drinking made my stomach churn. “I’ll pass.”

“Don’t hang up again. Look, what do I have to do to get you to come out tonight?”

“Perhaps tell me why it’s so urgent.” I’d abstained from drowning my guilt in liquor last night, despite my slightly improved constitution. I’d woken up on the floor of my bathroom too many times early in my exile, and I didn’t care for it. With Sam, I’d be putting myself in that compromising situation again, and risked deepening the hole I had dug myself into.

“There’s someone here you need to meet. Oh—what? Oh, okay. Gotta go, Solin. Bye.”

I sneered at the phone in my palm and let it rest on my chest. Sam’s message lit up the screen. I barely lifted the phone and stared at the address until the screen decided I’d been idle too long. Its light faded.

As did my judgment.

Sam might’ve actually heard my desire to help humanity more than one meal at a time and brought in someone new for me to work with. I had no intention on slogging my way back to the kitchen again. I’d already lied to Victoria about being ill for today’s shift, and she blamed a hangover that I wish I’d had as punishment for lying to her. But what of tomorrow, when Brida and I would be there together?

Would Brida even show?

Would I?

I could not let Brida leave a place she loved. This was her workplace first, not mine.

I changed out of what I’d fallen asleep in last night, choosing gray pants and a plain casual sweater with sleeves that had trouble staying rolled up. I threw on a light coat and headed to the address. I didn’t mask, but being so vulnerable, and apparently recognizable, to at least one person in Polaris made me paranoid. How long until Gaian technology, as primitive as it was, encapsulated my digital image and fed it through a mystical algorithm to determine my identity? In my prime, I’d been able to fool cameras, but I doubted that ability had returned yet. I glanced at the storefront windows as I walked. At least I could manipulate reflections again.

I arrived at the bar, passing through the outer gate of smokers and their toxic cloud into an upscale dive of wood, warm light, and rock music. Athletes graced the screens, and few patrons paid any attention to the newcomer. Sam knew what he was doing.

I found Sam at a high top table flirting with a woman I didn’t recognize. He whispered something to her that had the effect of politely shooing her. I was relieved he hadn’t called his non-friend out to hook up with a stranger.

“Aren’t you in a monogamous relationship, Sam?” I said, taking a seat on the stool across from him. I hung my coat on a hook beneath the tall table.

“We’re kind of experimenting with this whole ‘she isn’t monogamous right now, and it’s all my fault’ thing.”

“I’m…sorry?”

“It’s been an ongoing experiment. Actually we broke up before you arrived. Not here. Tonight. But here. You know. Here. Earth.”

“I understa—”

“And then we got back together again. And broke up. Last week. I think.” He shook his head. “Anyway, feels good to get your ass out of bed, doesn’t it?”

“I wasn’t in bed.” Never mind that I’d been lying on the sofa.

“You sounded pretty perturbed.”

“I was watching something.”

“What?”

“Star Trek.”

He blinked at me. “You were watching…” He leaned over the table, eyed me like I were a specimen, then leaned back. “Okay, hold on. You were watching Star Trek. Which one? Go.”

“The episode with—”

“Sorry, not episode, I mean series.”

I blinked at him. “I don’t understand.”

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Meet the Author

Liz plays way too much Minecraft and dreams about producing a television series. She loves an old-fashioned film noir and, unlike her character Solin, takes her coffee with a healthy dose of milk. Recent accomplishments include a 2019 fellowship at the Storytellers’ Institute and the book you’re about to read. Flicker is her debut novel with NineStar Press. To learn more about The Fire of Felwing series and other upcoming stories, visit Liz at elizabethtybush.com.

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: Night and Day Georgia C. Williams New Release and Giveaway! @ninestarpress @indigomarketingdesign #LGBTQIA+

 

 

Title: Night and Day

Author: Georgia C. Williams

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 05/17/2022

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 86700

Genre: Contemporary, LGBTQIA+, criminals, first time, Interracial/Intercultural, wedding, Yakuza, action/adventure, age-gap, Lawyers, opposites, tattoos, hurt/comfort

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Description

Joel Schiff’s life has hit rock bottom.

He has wealth and luxury but no one to share it with, he’s trapped in a job he loathes, and he’s lost sight of what he was passionate about. Thirty-five and single, and a virgin to boot, Joel realizes that unless he changes something soon, he’ll be miserable the rest of his life.

But change finds Joel, and his name is Raiden Noboru. Flirtatious, spontaneous, and living each day in the moment, he’s Joel’s opposite in every way. All it takes is one smoldering, impulsive night together for Joel’s life to turn upside down.

But when dangerous figures from Raiden’s past make a target of them both, Raiden and Joel find themselves on the run from New York to Tokyo. Danger and mutual attraction bring them closer together, and Joel can’t deny his feelings, like himself, are changing into something he never thought possible. But for Raiden, jumping into gunfights is easier than opening his world-weary heart to Joel’s love.

Each fears taking risks to their hearts, but time is running out. Raiden and Joel will have to fight for a chance at a once-in-a-lifetime love, or risk losing it all in a haze of gun smoke.

Excerpt

Night and Day
Georgia C. Williams © 2022
All Rights Reserved

Joel Schiff had the life everyone wanted.

His eight-million-dollar condominium with floor-to-ceiling windows offering picturesque views of lower Manhattan and the Hudson River was the most desirable home in Manhattan. The four-bed, four-bath condo had two bedrooms converted to a home theater and a library; it was perfect for raising a family or entertaining, but Joel woke up alone.

He wasn’t lonely, not really. Maybe at some point when he was young and naive, he thought he’d find the perfect guy and settle down. Turns out, he was far too busy for that and not terribly good at the whole letting people see you at your worst thing. People were nothing but unpredictable, anxiety-inducing headaches. He didn’t need the added stress another person might bring into his life.

Sure, love sounded nice, but Joel realized once he hit thirty that he was just too stuck in his ways to incorporate a social element into his life. He would die alone, and that was all right. Most days…as long as he didn’t think about it too much. Which he didn’t, at all, at seven in the damn morning on a workday. He was not in the mood for an anxiety attack, thank you.

Joel sighed around the sudden spiraling pit in his stomach and rubbed sleep from his eyes. Rolling over in a sea of plush blankets, he checked his phone and discovered a reminder: lunch with Dad. He took a quick shower, toweled off his hair as he walked across heated marble floors, and debated whether to trim or shave his beard. For a man of thirty-five, he had a youthful face, although the bags under his lifeless moss-green eyes, gained from the all-nighter he pulled for work, added years to his face. He opted for a trim instead; the thought of changing even his facial hair was too much of a commitment. Besides, without a little scruff, he thought he looked like a boy instead of a man.

Joel selected a dress shirt from his closet of colorless button-ups and endless supplies of identical khakis and sweater-vests; he put it on and buttoned it up until it pressed into his throat. After some debate, he threw aside his bright-green tie and chose a gray one instead. If he dressed in bright hues, he felt self-conscious, like he stood out too much. He tucked his shirt in and trudged through the great room to the kitchen.

Rows of cabinets towered over him, and he riffled through them, each too large for the bare minimum of food he stocked inside. He scowled. He’d guzzled the last of his coffee pulling an all-nighter for work. Making a mental note to stop at his favorite café on his walk to work, he found a carton of quail eggs in his fridge, scrambled them, and ate alone at his eight-seater table.

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Georgia has harbored a passion for storytelling since she was very young. She discovered a love for Male/Male Romance and ever since, she’s been dedicated to telling stories about powerhouse gay couples who conquer all obstacles in the pursuit of a happily ever after. 

Georgia was home-schooled, and grew up performing in her family’s musical theater company. Rather than go to college, she wrote her first novel. She lives in Manhattan, New York.

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Soulstealer: by Steven Shane Boulware Book Blitz and Giveaway! #ShaneBoulware #Soulstealer #XpressoTours @XpressoTours

 

Soulstealer: Steven
Shane Boulware

(Soulstealer, #2)
Publication date: May 20th 2022
Genres: Adult, Supernatural

The Soulstealer’s greatest power is that no one believes it exists…

…except Steven Carpenter. One of the last remaining members of the Ordo Solis—a thousand-year-old order sworn to kill the ancient demon—even his faith has begun to wane. But when he witnesses the return of the Soulstealer with his own eyes, belief quickly turns to grim reality.

With the souls of the world at stake, Steven knows what he has to do—expose the Soulstealer. There’s just one problem, it knows it’s been discovered … and so do the nefarious cults sworn to the demon’s cause. In a race against time and evil, Steven will have to find help. But will it be enough? Or will they be too late?

Author Shane Boulware ramps up the action in his hair-raising second entry in the Soulstealer series. Burning the boundaries between urban fantasy and suspense thriller, this grim-dark stomach-churner will leave you as breathless as the characters trapped within its pages.

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—

EXCERPT:

Though she didn’t believe him, Jeff promised Sara he’d read to Trista tonight, taking no more than two hours reviewing surveillance. He worked his schedule to spend the first hour watching the Gatekeeper in real-time as he arrived, and the second hour emailing and speeding through the day’s feed.

The Gatekeeper came into view as Jeff’s doorbell rang. Jeff stepped out of his office and got to the door in time to see Sara peering through the peephole. She scowled at Jeff as she opened it, revealing Steven dressed in a Star Trek t-shirt, leather jacket, steel-toed boots, jeans, and a ridiculous purple bandanna around his neck.

Steven waved. “Hi, Sara.”

“Steven.” She glared at Jeff. “Two hours, Jeff, and not one minute more.”

Steven grinned and made a whip-cracking motion with widening eyes as Sara returned to the living room.

“Yeah,” Jeff muttered, “I’m lucky I’m still in the house. Come on in. I’m watching the Gatekeeper.”

“Sweet!” Steven followed Jeff back into the office, setting his backpack down and pulling up a stool while Jeff returned to his chair. They huddled around the television. “Man, we haven’t done this in a while.”

Jeff cracked a smile. “Yeah, it’s been months since we’ve had a good ole fashioned sit-down. Aren’t you supposed to be out cruising the wild?”

Steven shrugged while glancing about the office; empty wrappers and gadgets strewn about. “I was in the neighborhood. I’m still on my vacation time though, so I’ll be headed back out for parts unknown.”

Jeff nudged him. “You were feeling guilty.”

Steven tilted his head. “Yeah, maybe a little. But I was serious when I said that I needed some time away from all this s***. The open road is the open road, and I got an urge I need to satisfy.” Steven pumped his fists and rocked his hips.

Jeff laughed while tucking away some unpaid bills on his desk.

“I decided to go south to the Carolinas,” Steven continued. “Through Tennessee and Missouri, then Ohio and back here. Tomorrow I’ll head out north, possibly all the way to Canuck-land. Who knows? I’ll figure it out when I get there.”

“Meanwhile…” Jeff began.

“Meanwhile, you’re fightin’ the good fight,” Steven added in a southern accent while eyeing the television. The Gatekeeper lounged in a brown leather chair, watching the fire as he did every day. A small table stood to his immediate right and another leather chair on the other side. His black leather fedora rested on the middle table.

Forty minutes into the video, a young man approached the Gatekeeper. Jeff leaned forward, snatched a notepad and mini pen from his back pocket, and scribbled notes on the paper.

Steven scrutinized the unfolding scene. “Easy, killer, just watch.”

The young man tried to sit before jerking still. He stood back up.

“I wish we had audio,” Jeff muttered.

“Shhh, just watch.” Steven strained to read their lips. The camera angles shot out both ways from the fireplace, giving them the perfect view. The Gatekeeper and his new friend began a conversation. Then the young man grabbed hold of the fedora and set it on his head, tapping the edge.

“Holy s***,” Jeff said. “That’s the Gatekeeper’s hat. He either knows exactly what he’s doing, or he has a death wish.”

“Mmmhm, we’ll see.”

They knew what would happen after the Gatekeeper verified the Soulstealer’s identity. They had learned about the procedure back when a much stronger Solis America infiltrated the Raptor’s former headquarters in Boston. Still, they could only guess at what words the two exchanged. The Raptors guarded the secret with a foolproof method: memorization.

The young man sat in the chair, back erect, and continued their dialogue. He took the Gatekeeper’s hat off and returned it to the table, tapping it again. The newcomer said something else, prompting the Gatekeeper to snatch his fedora, stand, and stride toward the VIP section.

The young man made no motion to follow, which they knew wasn’t part of the procedure unless the exchange failed. When the Gatekeeper left the room, the young man exited the bar the way he came.

Steven frowned. “That’s different.”

“What just happened?” Jeff asked.

“Looks like a failed attempt.”

“Yeah, but the guy knew what to do.”

“Or he was just a dumb drunk. It’s probably the Raptors messing with us again.”

“How could they know we’re still watching them?”

Steven gave Jeff a long look. “Jeff, they’ve probably been in your house a dozen times this year alone. I’m pretty sure they know.”

Jeff drew back, his voice trembling. “That’s not funny, Steven. I have a little girl in this house.” His eyes darted around the room as paranoia enveloped him.

“C’mon Jeff, they’re the Raptors. They have dossiers on every one of us, down to what kind of ice cream we like. We’ve been playing Spy vs. Spy since we figured out they supported the Soulstealer.”

“Is that your new name for it, the Soulstealer?”

“Catchy, isn’t it? I came up with it on the ride back. Sounds a lot better than ‘Stealer of Souls,’ or ‘Dracula.’ And Satan.”

Shane Boulware is an unconventional idealist from Orlando, Florida. Naturally, he commissioned as a Contracting Officer in the United States Air Force in 2012, where he promptly got tased, was hit with pepper spray, participated in a mock riot, jumped out of an airplane, and lived in a combat zone. These experiences tempered his creative instinct and led him to publish two music albums, found an innovation company, break a Guinness World Record, and learn over sixteen dance styles.

Having grown up a huge fan of Dune, Star Wars, Stargate SG-1, Warhammer 40K, Harry Potter, Avatar: The Last Airbender, and The Lord of the Rings, Shane always wanted to create and share a world of his own. His imagination set him on a path to write the supernatural thriller, Soulstealer, and its sequel, The Ordo Solis.

When he’s not negotiating contracts or salsa dancing the night away, you can find Shane taking his creative passion out on an unsuspecting keyboard. If you want to know when his next book will be available, visit his website at ShaneBoulware.com, where you can sign up to receive release updates and join a community of savants, swashbucklers, and nerds.

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The Fiddler of Dawn and Dusk by @avilak90 Book Blitz and Giveaway! #TheFiddlerofDawnandDusk #KatherynJAvila #XpressoTours @XpressoTours

 

The Fiddler of Dawn and Dusk
Katheryn J. Avila

(Greylea Spells, #2)
Publication date: May 19th 2022
Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Romance

Camilla Vargas, gifted violinist unwilling to ever play again.

When I said I wanted to start over somewhere new, being pulled into a world of monsters and magic is not what I had in mind. Caught in the grips of a faulty spell, my only hope of getting home is picking up a violin and completing a goddess’ quest. Add to that a handsome but less-than-willing, divinely appointed bodyguard, and this whole fiasco runs the risk of ruining my new life plan.

But maybe that’s not so bad.

Valmong, prodigy cleric ignoring the voice of his patron god.

When Tenebrin’s voice rings in my mind, I’m usually better at tuning him out. But he’s persistent, and as a cry rings out through the trees, I can’t ignore the order to help. Camilla is odd — for a bard — refusing the violin that’s clearly hers and unfamiliar with the magic she can wield. Her quest for Claritas’ Insight will probably get me killed, but the longer I’m with her, the less I care.

I just want to keep her safe — even if it means I’ll never see her again.

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—

EXCERPT:

Valmong
Could she be any slower?

We’ve been walking for close to two hours and she’s lagged behind the whole time. Though I’m not eager to reach Swynton, I’m not moving as fast as I’d like, and at this rate we might not get there before nightfall. Every time Camilla tries to catch up — either with a jog or a ridiculous walk where she constantly pumps her arms — it’s not long before her breath is short, almost ragged.

I have a half a mind to offer to carry her.

“Sorry…can we take a break? Please?” She leans against a tree, closing her eyes.

“Sure.” I take a step closer to her, “Is it your head? You seemed fine earlier.”

“Yeah. Every time I try to pick up speed, it feels like the world is tilting.” She takes a deep breath. “I think I’ll be okay after a short break.” Camilla sits on a fallen tree. “Sorry again, for slowing you down.”

I shrug, trying to dismiss her concern. “It’s fine. To be honest I’m in no rush to reach Swynton.”

“Why?”

I don’t expect a follow up question, and once more I’m taken aback by how much she doesn’t know. She’s probably the only person in the entire region who doesn’t know who I am.

Or why I’m not exactly welcome in Swynton.

“They’re not very fond of me there.” I leave it at that.

“Should I be nervous, then? If you’re not welcome there, what’s to say I will be?” She fidgets in place, her hands twisting the hem of her top, teeth worrying her bottom lip.

“You’ll be fine.”

She finally drops the topic and sits in silence for another few minutes.

By the time we reach the main road, the sun is high in the sky. The forest lines either side of the road, and I’m surprised there aren’t more people on it. Swynton’s festival starts tonight, and there should be thousands making the pilgrimage here, for the shrines to Tenebrin and Claritas.

Fresh horse tracks and the tell-tale signs of wagon wheels tell me we might have just missed the crowd.

“Do you always travel by foot?” Camilla’s voice cuts through my thoughts.

“Yes. Horses are more trouble than they’re worth.” I turn to look at her without stopping. “Why? Getting tired again?”

“No. And even if you had one, I’ve never ridden before.”

The longer we’re on the road, the lighter the air around us gets, especially as the forest thins the closer we get to Swynton. Beside me, Camilla seems more at ease.

“So…does this happen often? Finding people in the woods like you found me?” She really has a hard time with silence.

“You run into others now and then. This is the first time I’ve had to save anyone, though.”

“You don’t just go around rescuing people?”

“No. Not the rescuing type.” Maybe in another life.

“What type are you, then?”

Will the questions ever cease? I stop, unable to hide my annoyance as I look at her.

Be nice. Tenebrin’s voice only doubles my irritation.

“The ‘does things for money’ type.” I stare her down as I speak, hoping she takes the hint to stop. Maybe trigger some of that same fear I provoked the previous night.

“Was that supposed to intimidate me?” She tilts her head, warm brown eyes trying to find the answer to her question on my face as they squint against the sun. Her face is so open, soft. Curious. Does she know she quirks her lips like that when she asks a question?

She is quite pretty, isn’t she? Tenebrin shocks me from the path my thoughts were taking.

“It was supposed to make you stop talking.” I adjust the strap on my shoulder, breaking her gaze and fixing my attention back on the road. A few minutes later, the gate to Swynton comes into view.

Katheryn is a software engineer in the Philadelphia area, writing fantasy and paranormal stories when she’s not fighting technology. In 2013, she graduated from King’s College in Pennsylvania with degrees in Computer Science and Professional Writing — so she’s always writing, be it software or fiction. She lives with her husband, Eric, and their furbaby, Ada.

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Thirst by J Hali Steele Book Blitz and Giveaway!

 

Title: Thirst

Author: J Hali Steele

Publisher: Changeling Press LLC

Release Date: May 20, 2022

Heat Level: 5 - Erotica

Pairing: Male/Female

Length: 67 pages

Genre: Erotica, Urban Fantasy, Dark Fantasy, Dark Desire, Vampires, Voyeurism & Exhibitionism

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Synopsis

Feeling thirsty?

Thirsty: Monique has finally found a place where she can live out her fantasies. Little does she know the den of iniquity she's walked into is more than just a theme club. Omen's is the playground for every type of monster in the world.

A Thirst to Die For: When Nolan gives life to Amanda's carnal fantasies, his own life changes. Hell is coming to pay him a visit, and he's about to lose control.

Bane of Existence: One night spent in a human woman's arms brought Bane, a son of Satan, as close to heaven as he'll ever get. Now the only way he can have Iris is to convince her she wants him as much as he needs her.

A Vampire's Thirst: Once Nolan gave all souls moderation in everything. He was good at his job, and he called heaven home -- until he fucked the wrong seraphim! Now he's a vampire slayer serving the devil, keeping an eye on Omen's, and babysitting Lucifer's son. Not a job he expected to hold for damn near eight hundred years...

Publisher's Note: Thirst (Razor’s Edge Box Set) contains the previously published novellas Thirsty, A Thirst to Die For, Bane of Existence, and A Vampire’s Thirst.

Excerpt

All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2022 J. Hali Steele
Excerpt from Thirsty

"Must be a cold day in hell. You haven't come here alone in ages. Losing your touch or what?"

Since Nolan had been asked to keep an eye on the club, and on the devilishly handsome man behind the bar, he almost never visited without someone to make his evening more exciting. Giving Omen's owner, Peris, a long, appraising look, Nolan's cock twitched in regret. He'd been too busy lately.

"You asking to be touched? 'Cause I can do that, and make you like it." Nolan sat on his normal stool at the end of the long, shiny wooden bar, and eyed too many empty tables. "Where is everyone?"

"Resting up from their wicked weekend. And you wouldn't know what to do with that cold dick up this hot ass."

The sound of the swinging door distracted them both.

God damn, the woman was striking. Tall, curvaceous, with dark brown hair to her ass. An ass that cried out to be fucked. Christ. Nolan's cock came alive. So did every other part of his body, which took a lot of doing, considering he'd been dead too many years to count.

Peris chuckled from the other side of the counter, giving his balls a noticeable squeeze. "Looks like a live one to me. I might make a play for her myself."

"Not unless you're looking forward to visiting relatives." Peris had connections to the hierarchy below, but with the dark one's permission, Nolan would send the young man to Hell in a heartbeat.

Nolan had been called lots of things -- dead, undead, bloodsucker, motherfucker -- and he lived up to every one of them. He was a Slayer, and he was the best. "Get the lady a beer. Let's see what she does with it."

Watching the woman make her way to the bar, he took a deep breath. Human. Omen's wasn't a place humans popped into often, and for good reason. The cloying feeling of imminent danger was prevalent, a vibe even the shallowest human sensed the minute they entered the establishment.

This one ignored it, so she must be looking for something. Or someone. The blood pulsing through her gorgeous body would soon be running through his veins. Wouldn't kill her. Vamps didn't do that anymore. Okay, some did, but they were the ones he took out of play, and he enjoyed every minute of it.

She slid onto a stool at the opposite end of the bar, and it felt like she'd plopped into his lap. Cum slipped from the slit on his dick, which jerked violently inside his designer slacks. He reached up to loosen a button or two at the collar of the stark white silk shirt he wore. Getting into her panties, if she wore any, was going to be pure joy. After fucking her senseless, he'd taste her -- just a little bit if she was worth another ride. If not, he'd have a full meal before sending her home.

Peris delivered a cold brew and a glass and turned away, pretending to straighten the bottles of liquor on display. Nolan, adjusting his heightened vision, gazed right into her eyes when she looked his way. One hazel, one brown -- not something he saw often. Tipping the bottle toward him, she smiled and nodded before putting it to her lips. No glass! Excellent. A cock sucker, and he'd bet every year he had lived she was a good one. When her pink tongue darted through painted red lips, wrapped around the top of the bottle and licked it clean, he made his move.

Easing into her mind, he sifted through all the day's clutter. Such tiny panties. With a groan that lodged in his throat, he backed out, sniffing at the air. Sweet. What he'd unearthed in her mind made his dead heart beat like a drum. Fantasies should be played out, and he intended to help with hers.

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Meet the Author

J. Hali Steele wishes she could grow fur, wings, or fangs, so she can stay warm, fly, or just plain bite the crap out of... Well, she can't do those things but she wishes she could!

Multi-published and Amazon bestselling author of Romance in Paranormal, Fantasy, and Contemporary worlds which include ReligErotica and LGBTQ stories where humans, vampyres, shapeshifters and angels collide-they collide a lot! When J. Hali's not writing or reading, she can be found snuggled in front of the TV with a cat in her lap, and a cup of coffee.

Growl and roar -- it's okay to let the beast out. -- J. Hali Steele

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The Archer Brothers Series by Heidi Mclaughlin Book Blitz!

 

The Archer Brothers Series
Heidi McLaughlin

Publication date: May 20th 2022
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

The Archer Brothers

Here with Me
A mission gone wrong

Choose Me
Brothers torn apart

Save Me
A race against time

Here with Us
A new beginning

Choose Us
A life changing decision

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EXCERPT:
(Here with Me)

“EVAN, I THINK WE’RE finished for today.”

My head lifts quickly as I meet her gaze. There is a look of pity masking her smile. She can pity me. It’s understandable. If I were in her shoes I’d pity the person I am right now. I chance a look at the clock and see that I still have a few more minutes. Maybe she feels how broken I am and needs time to regroup or find someone else to fix me.

“Okay,” I say hesitantly. I’m not sure I want to go through this again with another doctor, and definitely not a military one.

The doc folds the page of her notepad over and slides it into her desk. She smiles softly. “I’m going to tell you the same thing I told Ryley this morning. My schedule has been cleared this week so I can help get things resolved, or heading toward a resolution. My plan is to see you and Ryley together in the next couple of days to discuss what methods need to be implemented for both of you. My concern is EJ. You need to be able to bond with him and she understands that.”

She stands, coming over to me. “My suggestion, and I didn’t tell this to Ryley, is for you to spend some time with her. She’s hurting, Evan. While you thought everything was fine, aside from the fact that you were gone for so long, she buried you and tried to move on with her life. She’s making neither heads nor tails of what’s happening right now, but give her time without letting her slip through the cracks.”

My body sighs as I stand, as if it knows I don’t have to sit in that chair anymore. My feet shuffle toward the door, leaving the doc leaning up against her desk. “Thank you,” I say before opening the door and leaving the room.

The sun is bright and penetrating when I step out of the office. I have to shield my eyes quickly before I walk out into traffic. Once my eyes adjust, I look across the street to the park hoping to see Ryley sitting over there. If she were, it’d be so much easier to talk to her right now, although the thought of bringing her to base makes more sense to me since she wouldn’t be able to run away from me. Somehow, however, I don’t think Ryley wants to be anywhere near the base – not that I can blame her. At this point, I don’t want to be there either, except it’s the only choice I have since I’m not really welcome in my own home.

With only one other destination in mind, I text the guys and ask them to meet me. We need to figure out what’s going on. Each of our situations is different, yet we’re all experiencing the same thing. I also need to bite the bullet and call my mother. I’m not sure why I haven’t yet. I guess I’ve been waiting to see if our unearthly return would make the news, but so far nothing has been reported. Every time I learn another factoid about this deployment, I’m more convinced that it was not legit.

Pulling in front of Magoo’s, it would be easy to go drown my sorrows in beer, but I need to keep a level head about the situation. If I ask the wrong person a question, who knows what could happen? As is, someone high up has taken away my life. It doesn’t matter that I’m standing here today or not. I’m not the same person and someone needs to pay.

It’s a happy relief to walk in and be surrounded by friends. The bar stools are full of patrons, men I’ve served with in the past. Tables are thrown together to make bigger spaces and the same chairs are still here. An American flag hangs on the wall with various pictures surrounding it. All these pictures have been given or sent to Rick, the owner, for display. I refuse to look at the wall that holds all our past SEALs. I know the four of us are up there or maybe Rick has taken them down. Either way, I’m not looking, at least not today.

I’ve spent many hours trying to figure out what happened and answering all the questions I could. It’s very unsettling to know that people thought you were dead.

Heidi McLaughlin is a New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of The Beaumont Series, The Boys of Summer, and The Archers.

Originally, from the Pacific Northwest, she now lives in picturesque Vermont, with her husband, two daughters, and their three dogs.

In 2012, Heidi turned her passion for reading into a full-fledged literary career, writing over twenty novels, including the acclaimed Forever My Girl.

Heidi’s first novel, Forever My Girl, has been adapted into a motion picture with LD Entertainment and Roadside Attractions, starring Alex Roe and Jessica Rothe, and opened in theaters on January 19, 2018, and is now available on DVD & Digital.

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Drinking Deep by @dylanncrush Book Blitz and Giveaway! #XpressoTours⁣⁣⁣ @XpressoTours #dylanncrush #DrinkingDeep

 

Drinking Deep
Dylann Crush

(Whiskey Wars, #1)
Publication date: May 12th 2022
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

A generations-old family feud might ruin a couple’s last chance at love…and tear apart the oldest whiskey distillery in Tennessee in the process.

Danica:
I need a win. My scumbag ex-boss is trying to drag my reputation through the mud. If I can land my first client, I might be able to get my marketing business off the ground. But when I show up for my first meeting with the owners of a distillery, the gorgeous guy at the end of the table looks an awful lot like the one-night stand I ghosted. So I do what any hot mess in heels would do… pretend like we’ve never met.

Cole:
The Hatfields and McCoys have nothing on the feud my family’s got going. We’ve been fighting with the Stewarts longer than anyone in Beaver Bluff can remember. Which sucks since we happen to co-own the largest whiskey distillery in Tennessee. Now they’ve brought in a marketing consultant to switch things up. If I can’t fight my attraction to the woman with curves like a back mountain road, she could ruin me.

Lose yourself in the richly crafted world of Beaver Bluff, Tennessee where the whiskey flows freely and love is only ever a few pages away.

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EXCERPT:

He nudged his chin toward my glass. “You ready to try your whiskey?”

“Let’s do it.” I picked up my glass and swirled it around again.

“Here’s what I want you to do. Breathe it in, but keep your mouth open.”

“You want me to breathe with my tongue?” I bit down on my lip to keep from laughing. This was starting to sound like the woo woo mediation class my friend Jolene had dragged me to a couple of years ago.

Instead of laughing, his eyes got more intense. “Yes, exactly.”

He was really into this. I’d been planning on quizzing the guy at the local liquor store to teach me everything he knew before I had to head down for my meeting next week with a distillery, but with Cole willing to share his knowledge, it might save me a few hours of time. Plus, he was at least twenty times more attractive than the grizzly older man who’d been running the family liquor store for the past forty years.

“Can you demo for me? I’m not exactly sure I know how to breathe through my tongue.”

“Why do I get the feeling you’re giving me shit?” His eyes crinkled at the corners, but he picked up his glass, swirled it around, then held it up to his nose with his lips slightly parted.

My entire reproductive system shimmied as I ran my gaze over the sexy scruff on his cheeks, the strong hand currently wrapped around the glass tumbler, and the sight of the tip of his tongue. I could think of so many other things he could use that part of his anatomy for beyond breathing in a beverage.

“There.” He lowered the glass and glanced at my hand. “Your turn.”

Mmm. I cleared my throat and brought the glass close to my mouth. With my lips parted, I took in a breath. The alcohol sent fire racing across my tongue, followed by a wisp of something smoky. I shifted my gaze to Cole. The intense way he studied my mouth made heat hurtle toward my belly.

Then lower.

“You ready to get your first taste?” His voice went low, rough around the edges like a piece of sandpaper lightly scraping against my skin.

I was more than ready for my first taste… of him. “Yeah, let’s do it.”

He lifted his glass. “Let it roll over your tongue, hold it in your mouth for a few seconds, then let it slide down the back of your throat. Okay?”

My chest rose and fell as I took in a breath. “Got it. Roll, hold, slide.”

“That’s right.” He lifted his glass, and I couldn’t tear my gaze away as he sipped, tipped his head back, and slowly swallowed.

Since when did watching someone take a simple sip from a glass make my panties damp? Eager to find out what might happen next, I copied his movements. A slow burn traced its way over my tongue and down my throat, all the way to the bottom of my belly. In that moment, I could feel appreciation for why so many people were drawn to whiskey. It was so much more than taking a nip from a hidden bottle.

It was romantic. It was sexy. It was a whole new world opening up to me.

My mind spun with possibilities for the meeting I had next week.

“What do you think?” Cole asked, liquid fire burning in his gaze.

“I think it was a bit of a religious experience.” For someone who made a living at communicating, I was temporarily at a loss for words. “What do you think about what I think?”

He rested his arm on the back of my stool and held my gaze for an extra-long beat. “I think I’d like to kiss you right now. What do you think about that?”

My stomach clenched. I wasn’t a woman who kissed strangers in bars. Then again, where had that gotten me? Jolene’s words pounded through my head. Take a chance. You deserve it.

Swallowing my hesitation, I tilted my head and met his gaze. “I think I’d like that very much.”

USA Today bestselling author Dylann Crush writes contemporary romance with sizzle, sass, heart and humor. A true romantic, she loves her heroines spunky and her heroes super sexy. When she’s not dreaming up steamy storylines, she can be found sipping a margarita and searching for the best Tex-Mex food in the Upper Midwest.

Dylann co-hosts Romance Happy Hour (https://www.romancehappyhour.com/) with live episodes every 2nd and 4th Thursday of each month and is a founding member of the Romance Chicks group where authors and romance readers can connect.

Although she grew up in Texas, she currently lives in a suburb of Minneapolis/St. Paul with her unflappable husband, three energetic kids, a clumsy Great Dane, a lovable rescue mutt, and a very chill cat. She loves to connect with readers, other authors and fans of tequila. You can find her at www.dylanncrush.com.

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The Memory Keeper of Kyiv by @erinlitteken Blitz and Giveaway!! #XpressoTours @XpressoTours⁣⁣⁣⁣⁣ #erinlitteken #TheMemoryKeeper

 

The Memory Keeper of Kyiv
Erin Litteken

Publication date: May 16th 2022
Genres: Literary Fiction

Perfect for fans of The Tattooist of Auschwitz and The Beekeeper of Aleppo.
“A powerfully moving debut . . . Ukraine’s tragic history painfully echoes its current crisis, and on every page the Ukrainian spirit shines out, unbowed, unbent and unbroken. This is a compelling, timely read.” Kate Quinn, author of The Rose Code

In the 1930s, Stalin’s activists marched through the Soviet Union, espousing the greatness of collective farming. It was the first step in creating a man-made famine that, in Ukraine, stole almost 4 million lives. Inspired by the history the world forgot, and the Russian government denies, Erin Litteken reimagines their story.
In 1929, Katya is 16 years old, surrounded by family and in love with the boy next door. When Stalin’s activists arrive in her village, it’s just a few, a little pressure to join the collective. But soon neighbors disappear, those who speak out are never seen again and every new day is uncertain.

Resistance has a price, and as desperate hunger grips the countryside, survival seems more a dream than a possibility. But, even in the darkest times, love beckons.

Seventy years later, a young widow discovers her grandmother’s journal, one that will reveal the long-buried secrets of her family’s haunted past.

This is a story of the resilience of the human spirit, the love that sees us through our darkest hours and the true horror of what happened during the Holodomor.

“I never imagined the release of my novel on a past oppression of the Ukrainian people would coincide with such a parallel tragedy.” Erin Litteken

May we never forget, lest history repeat itself.

A share of proceeds will be donated to DEC’s Ukraine Humanitarian Appeal.

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EXCERPT:

A sharp click echoed in the room, and everyone froze. The Russian’s cocked pistol pointed at Tato. “Are you resisting orders? If you are, we will have to label you an enemy of the people. We all know what happens to enemies of the people. I could shoot you right now, and nobody would care.”

Katya’s head buzzed. All the anger she’d felt morphed into sheer terror as she stared at her Tato. His beet-red face glistened with sweat and his hands curled slowly into fists, the anger crackling off him like a hungry fire seeking fuel. If someone didn’t intercede, he would be shot for attempting to murder Prokyp with his bare hands.

Mama, too, saw his inner struggle, for she stepped in front of Tato and spoke calmly. “I apologize for my husband’s behavior. He’s overprotective of his daughters. He didn’t mean what he said. We’ll cooperate, I swear it.”

The Russian smirked and lowered his gun. Dropping Alina’s hand, Katya pulled her father into a hug and spoke in his ear. “Please, Tato, there is no harm done, but we can’t lose you. Please.” She felt the tension lessen from his body, but vibrations of anger still throbbed like the veins on his neck.

Prokyp watched the scene with amusement, then sauntered back over to his cohorts, smiling. The Russian turned to him and asked with complete sincerity, “Have you been offended by this man? What would you like to do, Comrade?”

Prokyp glanced at Tato and then at Alina, who was white as a sheet, but holding her head high as Mama had taught them to. Katya’s legs wobbled, so she locked her knees and held her breath as they waited for this fool to decide the fate of their family.

“I suppose I can overlook it this once, as long as he and his family promise to cooperate fully in the future.” His gaze lingered on Alina. “But we shall have to check back here often to make sure they are behaving.”

Another activist pushed into the house with a large sack of wheat balanced on his shoulder. “I found this, and another just like it, hidden in the barn loft.”

Katya’s heart sank. She’d worried the wheat in the barn wasn’t hidden well enough, but Tato thought it safe out of sight beneath the hay.

“You can’t take that!” Tato shouted. “It’s my seed for planting this fall!”

“This will pay your quota. For now.” The Russian Soviet waved a hand dismissively, as if suddenly bored by them. “Come, we must move to the next house.”

The woman cast an apologetic look toward Mama and hurried behind the men as they left. The door swung wildly in their wake, and none of them moved until Tato strode forward and slammed it shut, though not before Katya saw the activists’ cart stacked high with sacks of grain, just like the ones they’d taken from the barn.

Erin Litteken is a debut novelist with a degree in history and a passion for research. At a young age, she was enthralled by stories of her family’s harrowing experiences in Ukraine before, during and after World War II. She lives in Illinois, USA with her husband and children.

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