Wednesday, June 28, 2017

Cover Reveal Operation: Endgame by Pip Ballantine and Tee Morris




Operation: Endgame
Ministry of Peculiar Occurrences
Philippa (Pip) Ballantine
Tee Morris

Book Description:

Join Agents Books and Braun on their final adventure with the Ministry of Peculiar Occurrences!

There is no time to rest for Eliza D Braun and Wellington Thornhill Books. The man who has haunted and hounded them since the fall of the Maestro, Doctor Henry Jekyll, is now on a killing spree, using bizarre, theatrical murders as a way to taunt their inability to capture the. It falls on Books and Braun to turn the tables on Jekyll and bring him to justice.

As Wellington and Eliza continue their pursuit of the madman Jekyll, the Ministry of Peculiar Occurrences stand against a recent surge in House of Usher activity. Agents Bruce Campbell and Brandon Hill discover more about the intention of Operation: Ragnorok, and the Ministry find themselves in a race to thwart Usher’s intent to plunge the world into chaos, despair, and a noticeable lack of clotted cream for Devon Teas.

The Ministry will not let this stand.


About the Authors

Philippa (Pip) Ballantine

New Zealand born fantasy writer and podcaster Philippa (Pip) Ballantine is the author of the Books of the Order and the Shifted World series.

She is also the co-author with her husband Tee Morris of the Ministry of Peculiar Occurrences novels as well as Social Media for Writers. Her awards include an Airship, a Parsec, the Steampunk Chronicle Reader’s Choice, the RT Reviewer’s Choice Award for steampunk, and a Sir Julius Vogel. She currently resides in Manassas, Virginia with her husband, daughter, and a furry clowder of cats.

Find out more about her at  http://www.pjballantine.com/






Tee Morris

Tee Morris has been writing science fiction, fantasy, horror, and non-fiction for over a decade. His first novel, MOREVI: The Chronicles of Rafe and Askana, became the first novel to be podcast in its entirety, ushering in a new age for authors — podcasting. In 2011, Tee penned with his wife Pip Ballantine the Ministry of Peculiar Occurrences series. The series and its short fiction podcast, Tales from the Archives, has won several awards including the 2014 Parsec Award for Best Science Fiction Anthology Podcast, the 2011 Airship Award for Best Steampunk Literature, and RT Reviews’ Choice Awards for Best Steampunk of 2014. In 2016, Tee and Pip released the fifth book in the series, The Ghost Rebellion; the first book in a new spin-off series, The Curse of the Silver Pharaoh; and the unexpected novella of erotic ridiculousness and hidden messages from Ministry command, Countless Hues of Crimson.

And somewhere in the middle of all that, Tee and Pip released with Writer’s Digest the go-to, how-to book, Social Media for Writers. In 2017, he reunites with Chuck Tomasi for the third edition of Podcasting for Dummies and brings his steampunk adventures to a close with Operation: Endgame. Tee and Pip also host The Shared Desk, a podcast covering collaboration and other aspects of a writer’s lifestyle.

Explore the works of Tee Morris, and his occasional geek rants, at


Tuesday, June 27, 2017

Release Day - Reach for You by Pat Esden






REACH FOR YOU
Dark Heart Series
Book Three
Pat Esden

Genre: paranormal romance

Publisher: Kensington Books

Date of Publication: June 27, 2017

ISBN: ISBN13: 978-1-4967-0009-4
ASIN: B01LZCVLU3

Number of pages: 320
Word Count: 80k

Book Description:

Her passion is her greatest weakness.

His legacy is his prison.

To reunite, both must fight the demons within.

A world of deception and danger separates Annie Freemont from her mother—and from Chase, the enigmatic half-ifrit with whom Annie’s fallen in love. But she vows to find her way back to them, before Chase succumbs to the madness that threatens his freedom. The only person who can help is the magical seductress, Lotli, a beautiful, manipulative woman . . . a woman who has disappeared.

Annie must stay strong, even as the future she imagined is slipping away. With the help of family and friends, she discovers that Lotli is being held against her will, by those who want to exploit her powers. But though weakened, Lotli remains a powerful alley and adversary. A bargain is struck. And now Annie’s only chance to rescue Chase could also tear them apart . . 

Loyalties will be tested, walls will be breached, and enemies will be fought, yet Annie’s greatest battle lies within her own heart—to trust her love for Chase to overcome its greatest enemy, and to save those she holds most dear from the terrifying realm of the djinn . . .

Amazon     BN       Kobo      Indie Bound

Target      Book Depository      BAM

May 28- July 2


Chapter 1

We journey. Ceaseless and hungry.
Carved into stone tablet. Tenerife, Spain

The campsite was ominously silent. Then a breeze lifted and my ear caught the faint clank and rattle of the bones and knives hanging in the pine trees behind us.
“You don’t think they’re both dead, do you?” Selena whispered.
I scanned the dilapidated camper ahead of us, a do-it-yourself RV created out of an old bread truck. Despite the midafternoon warmth, the doors were shut tight. The tent behind it, barely visible from our angle, bowed under the weight of rain that had pooled in its canopy. There was no campfire smoke. No trampled grass. In comparison to when we’d come here last week, the place looked deserted.
Goose bumps pebbled my skin. I gave the camper another once-over. “Zea was really old and sickly. He could have died—or if the kidnappers came here first looking for Lotli, they could have found him. They might have—”
Selena cut me off with a glower. “You mean, supposed kidnappers.”
My jaw clenched. Yeah, that was exactly what I meant. I understood why my cousin didn’t like that everything we’d discovered pointed to her boyfriend, Newt, being involved in Lotli’s disappearance, and perhaps Zea’s as well. But I thought we’d gotten past that, like a bunch of times already.
I swiveled toward where we’d parked our Land Rover. The Professor stood rooted next to it, a mixture of disgust and apprehension crinkling his face. From his scholarly glasses and sandy brown hair all the way down to his polished loafers, he looked anything but ready for our reconnaissance trip out here on the back roads of Down East Maine. An afternoon of research at Oxford University would have been more appropriate. “You want to check inside the tent while we look in the camper?”
His gaze flicked to the soggy tarps. He cleared his throat, then—as posh as ever—said, “Don’t get me wrong, I’m not totally against the idea. But the thought of discovering a rotting corpse is a teensy bit abhorrent.”
“Would you rather discover one in a closed-up camper?” I snapped. It was lucky we’d driven into the campsite from the main road instead of walking like we’d done the last time.  I’d assumed the Professor had an adventuresome spirit to go with his young Indiana Jones good looks. Especially since he was an archaeologist, though this summer he was tutoring Selena’s eleven-year-old brother as a favor. Still, and despite how eager he’d seemed to come with us, the Professor had freaked the second we started past the creepy stuff Zea and Lotli hung in the trees to scare people off: the knives and bones, pieces of copper pipe, broken mirrors, and doll parts. Frankly, I was surprised he’d even gotten out of the Land Rover at all.
I pasted on a smile. “Sorry. I don’t much care for the idea myself. Let’s just hope he’s napping or something.”
The Professor wiped his hands down the sides of his chinos. “I truly hope you’re right.”
As he headed for the tent, I tramped toward the camper with Selena close behind. If only Chase were here now. The creepy stuff hadn’t bothered him at all, and the fear of Zea being dead would have only driven him forward faster.
My chest tightened, my longing for Chase aching inside me, raw and unrelenting. If it weren’t for me, he would be here now. Instead, both he and my mother were trapped in the djinn realm, prisoners of his father, Malphic. If it weren’t for me, Lotli wouldn’t be missing either.
“Well?” Selena jerked her head at the camper door. “Are you going to just stand there?”
I raised my hand and knocked. One second passed. Two seconds. I rapped harder. Nothing. I tried the doorknob. It turned beneath my grip. I opened the door a crack, hesitated, and took a deep breath before pushing it open all the way.
A wave of hot, musty air rushed past me as if the camper had been closed up for days.
“Hello?” I said, sticking my head inside. I gave the air a cautious sniff. No dangerous odors, like a leaky gas stove, permeated the air.  No rotting-trash smell—or decomp.
Selena nudged my shoulder. “What are you waiting for?”
I swallowed hard and stepped forward.
The place was cramped, a gypsy wagon on steroids. Tassels and prisms curtained the windows, letting only faint streaks of light inside. Miles of fuchsia and turquoise fabric draped the ceiling and walls. Animal skulls, feathers, and nubby candles clustered inside miniature altars. The fridge, table, and chairs, every surface that wasn’t fabric covered, was painted purple or black. Stars decorated the ceiling. An antique bed piled with crimson quilts and an avalanche of pillows took up the camper’s entire backend. It was cozy enough, I supposed. But I couldn’t begin to imagine what life had been like for Lotli, apprenticed to Zea as a child because of her magic abilities, essentially indentured. Not that I thought a devout shaman like Zea would have been cruel to her. It was just so different from anything I’d experienced.
“Zea, are you here?” I called out. “We need to talk to you about Lotli.”
I minced my way deeper into the cramped space, working my way toward the back of the camper. Cold sweat carved a trail down my spine. I crept past a tiny kitchen and dining nook, then the bathroom—one toothbrush in the holder, a washcloth draped over the edge of a yellowed sink.
I returned to the front of the camper and pulled aside the curtain that divided the living area from the bread truck’s cab. Seats for the driver and a passenger, seashells glued to the dash, insulated coffee cups in the holders—
Something brushed the back of my neck.
I yelped and jumped sideways, whipping around to see what it was and smacking my elbow against the wall. Pain zinged up my arm. I glared at Selena, standing barely an inch behind me.
“Shit,” I said, rubbing the sting from my arm. “You scared the hell out of me.”
She gave me a sheepish pout. “Sorry. I thought you knew I was there.”
“I didn’t think you were that close.” It wouldn’t have hurt half as bad, except I was already sore and bruised from being thrown out of the djinn realm earlier in the day.
Her pout transformed into a smug smile and she flipped her blond hair over one shoulder.  “Looks to me like Zea and Lotli might have pulled a vanishing act after all. Huh?”
I stopped rubbing. “Or the Professor’s about to find something disgusting in the tent.”
“Want to bet?”
I closed my eyes, struggling to regain my composure. We couldn’t afford to waste time discussing the same thing over and over again, any more than I could have afforded the luxury of staying home to nurse my aches and pains. Chase and Mother were in danger. And I couldn’t go back to the realm and rescue them until we found Lotli. Without her and her flute-magic, it would be too risky, perhaps even impossible to enter or escape from the realm.
I shoved past Selena and strode to the tiny bathroom. “While we’re here, we should find something personal of Lotli’s that you can use to scry and see where they’re holding her.”
Glancing around, I spotted a scruffy hairbrush. You couldn’t get much more personal than that. I grabbed it and brandished it toward Selena.
She stood just inside the bathroom doorway, hands on her hips, eyes narrowed. “Cut it out, Annie, I’ve had enough of you talking like Newt kidnapped Lotli, the innuendos and little jabs. Maybe his family’s hiding something, but Newt doesn’t have anything to do with it. So quit acting like he’s evil, okay?”
I mirrored her stance. “He told you his dad was a stockbroker, that they owned their summer home. Those were lies. His brother is a registered creep. No matter what you want to think: Newt’s not innocent.”
She turned her back on me, her voice bordering on hysteria. “I don’t know why I bothered coming. You’re so, so . . . You always have to be right—” Her voice died and she slowly faced me. Angry red blotches mottled her face. But tears rimmed her eyes.
My anger drained. She didn’t look pissed. She was trembling like she was about to fall apart. Earlier today, when we’d first heard about the lies Newt and his family had been telling, I’d seen something in Selena’s eyes, something beneath her disbelief.
“What is it? Tell me,” I asked gently.
She raked her hands over her face. “Nothing. You just need to trust me. I know Newt couldn’t be involved. And he wouldn’t have let his brother do it either.”
I leveled my gaze with hers and toughened my voice. “What makes you so certain? Tell me the truth, Selena.”
Her chin quivered. “I just know.”
Tucking the hairbrush handle first into my hip pocket, I stepped closer. I pushed her hair back from her face. “You’re my cousin. Please. Tell me.”
 “Nothing. He just wouldn’t do it. He loves me.”
“I get that. But—”
She shoved my hand away. “No, you don’t get it. I know he loves me. Like forever.”  Her eyes pleaded for me to understand what she couldn’t bring herself to say.
A possibility seeped into my head.  My hands went to my mouth, covering a horrified gasp. She couldn’t mean. She couldn’t have.  “What did you do?”
“I kind of—I put a . . .” Her voice faded and she looked down at the floor.
“A spell?” A month ago, the idea of witchcraft being involved would never have occurred to me. Now it seemed more than likely.
 “You can’t tell anyone. Mom, Dad, Grandfather—they’d kill me.” She curled her arms over her head, her shoulders shaking as she crumpled down against the wall.
I crouched and put my arms around her. “Whatever it is, it’ll be fine. It can’t be that bad.”

“It is,” she sobbed.

About the Author:

Pat Esden would love to say she spent her childhood in intellectual pursuits. The truth is she was fonder of exploring abandoned houses and old cemeteries. When not out on her own adventures, she can be found in her northern Vermont home writing stories about brave, smart women and the men who capture their hearts. 
An antique-dealing florist by trade, she’s also a member of Science Fiction & Fantasy Writers of America, Romance Writers of America, and the League of Vermont Writers. Her short stories have appeared in a number of publications, including Orson Scott Card’s Intergalactic Medicine Show, the Mythopoeic Society’s Mythic Circle, and George Sciter’s Cat Tales Anthology.

The first two novels in her Dark Heart series, A HOLD ON ME and BEYOND YOUR TOUCH are available from Kensington Books.  REACH FOR YOU (book #3 Dark Heart series) will be released June 27th. Her short story, Black as a Dark Moon, Scarlet as Sumac, will come out this September in the Fragments of Darkness anthology.







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A Warlock’s Secrets by Tena Stetler




A Warlock’s Secrets     
Demon’s Witch Series
Book Two
Tena Stetler

Genre: Paranormal Romance              

Publisher: The Wild Rose Press

Date of Publication: 6-14-17

ISBN: 978-1-5092-1446-4  
ISBN: 978-1-5092-1447-1

Number of pages:  332
Word Count: 83,485

Cover Artist: Kristian Norris

Tagline: In his darkest hours she is dragged into his magical world. If they survive, is she strong enough to heal his heart and tame the warlock?

Book Description:

Years ago a sacred ceremony at the Dragon’s Moon Coven, turned deadly. Son of the high priestess, Tristian Shandie’s life changed forever. With a price on his head and revenge in his heart, he has no choice but to follow in his father’s footsteps to a profession shrouded in secrets. Now his skills as an enforcer for the Demon Overlord are second to none. But dangerous secrets he harbors are a liability he can no longer afford.

A chance meeting with a woman he finds irresistible flips Tristian’s world upside down. Hannah is a cyber security specialist with secrets of her own. Bad boys never appealed to her until Tristian, who changes everything. In his darkest hours she is dragged into his magical world. If they survive, is she strong enough to heal his heart and tame the warlock? Or will their secrets destroy them?


Amazon      Kobo      BN       iTunes
Excerpt:
He offered his hand to Hannah as she stood, wrapped an arm around her waist and guided her out of the diner. "How about a ride up the coast?"
"Sure as soon as you explain how you held those teens down without touching them." She smiled up at him knowingly.  "And don't give me that crap about telling me or killing me."
A slight grin curved the corners of his mouth. "How about on an as needed basis and you don't need to know?"
A soft laugh bubbled up from her throat. "If I had to guess, I'd say you're a warlock with well-honed powers." She tilted her head up towards his. "Would I be right?"
HIs grin faded replaced with a stormy expression. "Where would you get that absurd idea?  They merely tripped and had trouble getting up. I suggested they stay put until the police showed up.  Simple as that."
"Right.  Well on that note, I'll see myself home." She turned to her car and opened the door.
For a moment, he considered letting her go. Women are more trouble than they’re worth anyway. That's when the meddling voice of Birch wafted through Tristian's mind.  She's moved on, so should you.  Damn faeries anyway. I'm sure he's using some kind of magic to do this to me.

"Okay, you win. But only if you tell me why you are disguising your magic signature." He leaned against the car a smirk on his face.

About the Author:

Tena Stetler is a paranormal romance and cozy mystery author with an over-active imagination.  She wrote her first vampire romance as a tween, to the chagrin of her mother and the delight of her friends. With the Rocky Mountains outside her window, Tena sits at her computer surrounded by a wide array of paranormal creatures telling her their tales. Colorado is her home; shared with her husband of many moons, a brilliant Chow Chow, a spoiled parrot and a forty-year-old box turtle.  Any evening, you can find her curled up in front of a crackling fire with a good book, a mug of hot chocolate and a big bowl of popcorn. Her books tell tales of magical kick-ass women and mystical alpha males that dare to love them.






Twitter Page: www.twitter.com/TenaStetler  







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Monday, June 26, 2017

Release Day Blitz The Unlikeable Demon Hunter: Sting by Deborah Wilde








The Unlikeable Demon Hunter: Sting
Nava Katz
Book Two
Deborah Wilde

Genre: urban fantasy/romance

Publisher: Te Da Media

Date of Publication: June 26, 2017

ISBN: 978-1-988681-01-6
ASIN: B071Y2GHDM

Number of pages: 420
Word Count: 88,000

Cover Artist: Damonza

Book Description:

50% boobs. 50% sarcasm. 100% new breed of hunter.

After a bumpy start as the only female demon hunter in the top secret Brotherhood of David, Nava Katz heads to Prague for her first undercover mission: unmasking a demon movie star. She'd be all kinds of thrilled if it weren't for the fact that her fellow hunter-with-benefits, Rohan Mitra, has reclaimed his rock star status and assigned Nava the role of groupie.

Rejecting her "be a good girl and follow orders" directive, Nava unleashes an alter ego guaranteed to hook their celebrity target and drive Rohan crazy. No downside-until she finds herself up against Rohan's past, the Brotherhood's antiquated thinking, and her own identity issues, turning her personal life into a bomb that could blow up the entire operation.

Sparkly and deadly; it's a plan.

Be Sure to Check Out The Unlikeable Demon Hunter Book One


Excerpt #1:
Looping my fingers into his belt, I jerked his hips to mine. Rohan’s breath caught and when I brushed my lips over the shell curves of his ear, his whole body went tense. “Prove you’re worth it, baby.” Then I pushed him away, stalking off without a look back, mostly sure that he followed.
The second we got inside the empty elevator, Rohan shoved me up against the wall. I groped for the third floor button, leaning into him. He ran his hands feverishly over my body, hot tingles shivering through my breasts like a sexed-up call and answer. The focused hunger in his expression had me craving more, except my rapid breathing wasn’t all from arousal.
Given the barely banked rage evident in the tense bunch of Rohan’s shoulders, the feeling was mutual. Hopefully, he’d show no mercy in orgasm form and not body count, though I couldn’t promise the same right now.
I bit his earlobe, wanting to hurt him.
Rohan shot me a cavalier smile in response. Holy crap. My knees buckled.
The sprint to my room was a blur.
The second the door slammed shut behind us, Rohan edged his face in close to mine, his palm ghosting my cheek in the barest caress that sent slivery shimmers tumbling through me.
I raised my fingers to my mouth, not realizing what I’d done or that I ran them over my lips until Rohan tracked the movement, his eyes glittering dangerously.
His tongue flicked out, wetting his lower lip. He swayed in toward me and–

“No.” Taking his hands in mine, I forced them behind me. Forced him to hold me there, his rings biting into my skin. Forced him to make a decision; play by my rules or go. 

About the Author:
                                                       
A global wanderer, hopeless romantic, and total cynic with a broken edit button, Deborah writes urban fantasy to satisfy her love of smexy romances and tales of chicks who kick ass. She is all about the happily-ever-after, with a huge dose of hilarity along the way. “It takes a bad girl to fight evil. Go Wilde.”





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Small Sacrifice – An Alexis Black Short Story





The world that Alexis Black lives in has a rich backstory. A land where Vampires came out of the darkness and tried to co-exist with the humans. But can monsters ever co-exist?
Some vampires didn’t agree with sharing the world with beings they thought of as lesser. They attacked, killing human after human, showing who was the most powerful. Hoping to take over the world, turn the humans into slaves.
But they humans didn’t go down cowering. No. They gathered their forces, created a bond, and fought off the monsters.
They created the VAU (Vampire Apprehension Unit) to hunt down and assassinate anything of the supernatural persuasion. This is a story of how they took care of those who found themselves unlucky enough to end up in a VAU cell. This is the also the story of Delano, a man you will learn a lot about in Evil’s Unlikely Assassin.

Small Sacrifice – An Alexis Black short story

 Armed guards pulled me from my cell, and dragged me over the blood splattered Astro-turf. They shackled me to the goal post at the end of a football field turned-execution-chamber, stripped me of my last remaining article of clothing and left me to die.
Ten guards stood in a circle around me, machine guns pointed at my head.  They thought they were safe.  Five television crews hurried around the arena preparing for tonight’s broadcast.  They thought they were safe.  A priest knelt in front of a vat of water, blessing it. He thought he was safe.
I’m a vampire. No one was safe.
The announcer grabbed my chin with his pudgy, gloved hand.  His mouth spread into an ugly smile before he turned and blocked the crowds view.  He cleared his throat and spit. The warm glob landed on my cheek and slid down before dropping to the ground.  He would be the first to die.
For five days my human captors tortured me, punished me, abused me.  I allowed it. Their acts bought me time to plan my escape. The bitter blood of a family of rats who shared my cell kept me alive, their donation helped remove the last trace of poison that coursed through my veins. 
Humans.  They thought they got lucky catching one of the Seven Sovereign leaders of the vampire race.  It hadn’t been luck.  I’d been set up. By the six vampires I trusted the most. Betrayed, martyred, and left for dead at the entrance of a Vampire Apprehension Station.  Silver injected in my blood to keep me compliant, close to death, to ensure I didn’t slaughter the humans.  Sacrificed because I didn’t agree with their vision of the future and refused to cower to a lesser race.
Betrayal was an ugly thing.
But so was revenge.
The stadium lights flickered on and flooded the field in a cold white light.  I lowered my head and let my greasy hair shield my eyes from the glare.  Soft footfalls approached, bringing the all-too-familiar smell of body odor and peppermint with them.  For five nights the same pungent odor visited me to pray for my undead soul.
My gaze followed the priest’s movements. He dipped a chalice into a vat of water, and raised the cup in the air, drops of water sloshed over the sides and fell to the ground.  He walked over to me, the beads of his crucifix clicking against the gold cross. 
“Delano Melazi, I’ll ask you again. Shall I pray for your undead soul?”
I ignored him tonight as I’ve done the last five times he asked me this question.  It wasn’t my soul he needed to pray for, and it wasn’t my body they would be burying this evening.
A moment of silence stretched between us. He huffed and gestured for the guards.  Two hurried over.  “Hold his head.” Warm fingers dug into my scalp and forced me to meet the priest’s eyes.  The twinkle in his baby blues was more devil than saint.
“By the authority of the church, I mark you as one of the damned.”  He dipped his index finger into the chalice. The water rippled. He pulled his finger out and pressed it to the center of my forehead.  It sizzled against my skin and burned along the two lines the priest traced with his finger.  My fangs sank into my tongue, holding back my agonized scream.  I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of enjoying my pain.   

“In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Ghost,” he finished.  The guards dropped their hold on my head and it fell back to my chest.
The holy water cross was meant to weaken me, to stop me from fighting when the executioner came out and the real damage was inflicted.  On a less powerful vampire, a younger one, it was effective, but I was almost seven hundred years old.  I possessed more power than anyone knew, even the vampires who sent me here.
The Sovereign leaders called my capture a small sacrifice, a peace offering to the human race.  I called it a punishment, a crime, an injustice.
Static from the Jumbo-Tron played over the speakers. The announcer’s voice boomed through the stadium.  The crowd cheered, excited to witness my demise.  And they called the vampires monsters.
“This week, two brave VAU agents captured one of the Vampires’ leaders.  Delano Melazi.”  The crowd booed and hissed their hatred.  “He alone is responsible for the Nightclub Massacre.”  
I had nothing to do with it, but let them believe what they wanted.  I had no quarrel with them, just like a wolf has no quarrel with a sheep.
Once the crowd quieted down the announcer continued.  “A tragedy no human will ever forget.  You’ve seen the pictures.  Over one hundred and thirty humans captured, tortured, torn to pieces.”  He paused and stepped closer.  I felt the warmth of his flesh and heard the beating of his heart.  “This monster locked those doors.  This monster slaughtered your friends and family in cold blood.  This monster deserves to pay.”
His words worked the already agitated crowd into frenzy.  They raised their fists high in the air and yelled for my death.
Just a few moments more, that’s all I needed.  Seconds until my power was restored.
The announcer’s fat fingers grabbed my hair, pulled my head back and forced me to look into the camera.  “Tonight he will pay.  He will suffer.  He will die.”  His words echoed around the stadium.

No one heard the handcuffs fall to the ground or saw me twist his head or heard his last breath.  No one knew anything was wrong until his head slipped from my fingers and his body slid to the ground.
The crowd screamed.
The guards aimed their guns at my heart, pulled the triggers and let the bullets fly in a flurry of silver and speed, but I was swifter, stronger, superior.
Before the first bullet hit the metal pole that had bound me, I was in front of the final guard in line.  Ten beating hearts at my feet.  Ten gaping holes in their chest.  Ten dead bodies on the earth.
I turned to the closest camera, the red lights still blinking, but unmanned. “I am Delano Melazi.”  I raised my voice over the commotion.  “And I will seek revenge against those who wronged me.”
The first blast of holy water hit me in the shoulder. It knocked me off balance.  The second hit me in the face.  The cross the priest had drawn on my head merely irritated me, but the onslaught of blessed liquid burned, weakened and crippled me.  It ran down my arm, melted the flesh off the bone.
I had one chance to get out alive.  With the last remaining bit of strength still hidden deep in my reserves, I vanished. Teleported, a handy trick only I knew I possessed, away from the stadium and the humans, but not the pain.

Evil's Unlikely Assassin
An Alexis Black Novel
Book One
Jenn Windrow

Release: June 6, 2017

Genre  : Urban Fantasy

Publisher: Muse It Up Publishing

ISBN: 1771279222
ASIN: B06XH9ZFD4

Number of pages: 290
Word Count: 80K

Cover Artist: Erica Petlit Designs

Tagline: Sometimes it takes evil to kill evil

Description:

Vampire Alexis Black is on a mission - to rejoin the human race.

Coerced into signing an ironclad contract by an Angel-with-attitude, Alexis must hunt down and assassinate at least one vampire, werewolf, or creepy crawly every night for fifty years to become human again. Too bad the contract didn’t mention the badass vampire who now rides shotgun in her brain, insatiable bloodlust, or her new I-hate-everything-with-fangs sidekick. If she can fulfill her end of the bargain, her humanity is restored, if not she will be destroyed.

But when a revenge-seeking bloodsucker threatens her city, Alexis must risk everything to ensure there’s a humanity to return to. Since her vampire nature is her greatest weapon to defeat the monsters that threaten her friends and future, Alexis must choose to accept her inner beast or watch those she loves die.

Amazon       BN       iBooks       Kobo      MuseIt Up     Goodreads


Excerpt:

Tonight’s job had me sitting in a shadowy corner of a dead-end dive watching the unfortunate, the hopeless, and the degenerate. Had I known this is how I’d be spending my one hundred and seventy-third birthday, I would have called in sick.
An aging cocktail waitress hustled to over-serve society’s misfits. An ex-con, a dealer, and an addict pissed their lives away at the far end of the bar. A trio of prostitutes circled the room, their knock-off stiletto’s clicking on the wooden floor. And a single cockroach scurried for cover before being squashed.
How would the humans feel about me, the vampire, hiding in their shadows?
One of the battered bar stools toppled, throwing its occupant to the filthy concrete. The man, in a faded red and black flannel shirt, picked himself up off the floor. Dingy jeans slid down his hips, revealing a pair of boxers far past the expiration date for a wash. He bumped and weaved his way through the crowd, ignoring the spilled drinks and curses he left in his wake, and cut a crooked but determined path right to my table.
He collapsed into the booth next to me, blocking my only chance at escape. “How’s ’bout a drink?”
I wrinkled my nose at what had to be three days’ worth of sweat and grime, raised my bottle and sloshed the liquid from side to side. “Still nursing this one.” I focused on a faded picture of the Blues Brothers nailed to the wall and hoped he’d take the hint. A sharp tap on my shoulder told me this guy was either clueless or didn’t give a shit. My money was on clueless.
“What’s your name, sexy?”
Oh how I wanted to ignore his question, but the last thing I needed was Mr. Drunk and Stupid to cause a scene and blow my cover. “Alexis.”
His grease-coated fingers played “Get the Buggy” up my arm. I slapped them away before they got past my elbow. “How’s ’bout we get to know each other better?” He gave me a lopsided wink and ogled my breasts.

When he looked at me, he saw what every other human did, a twenty-three year old, petite brunette with large, light blue eyes. But if he leaned in close, he would see what lurked below the exterior, something sinister and scary, with sharp fangs and a deadly personality.


About the Author:

Jenn Windrow loves characters that have a pinch of spunk, a dash of attitude, and a large dollop of sex appeal. Top it all off with a huge heaping helping of snark, and you've got the ingredients for the kind of fast paced stories she loves to read and write. Home is a suburb of it's-so-hot-my-shoes-have-melted-to-the-pavement Phoenix. Where she lives with her husband, two daughters, and a slew of animals that seem to keep following her home, at least that's what she claims.

Jenn's Urban Fantasy, EVIL’S UNLIKELY ASSASSIN won the RWA Fantasy, Futuristic and Paranormal (FFandP), “On The Far Side” writing contest in July 2014, top 5 in the RWA Desert Rose, “Realizing the Dream” writing contest, and finaled in the Houston Writers Guild annual writing contest in April 2014. It was also selected as first runner up in Writers Type’s First Chapter Contest in April 2013.

Her Paranormal Romance, STRUCK BY EROS placed first in the RWA’s Golden Pen Contest, third in the Ruby Slippered Sisterhoods Make it Golden contest, and fourth in the West Coast Romance Writers Beacon contest.









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