Thursday, December 03, 2020

A Demon’s Witch by Tena Stetler ~ Deck the Halls with Books Holiday Extravaganza



Traditions Shared with Our Pets – Our Christmas Tree

Allergic to pine trees as I child, we had an aluminum silver tree with a color wheel that reflected colors over the tree’s shimmering branches. Not a pine but served the purpose. Santa left presents under it and we sang carols around it. Our special ornaments were hung on the tree along with candy canes and blue, green and red balls.

These days, you can’t tell the real trees from the artificial.  Our seven-foot tree with large sweeping boughs to the ground is put up the day after Thanksgiving.   Since the Blue Spruce is artificial, no problems with pine needles and drying out. (If you look close at the picture, you can see Taco in front of the tree on a perch with Mystic looking on.)

Christmas ornaments are a family tradition. We receive a special ornament all our own each year. This tradition is handed down from generation to generation dating back to the pioneers. 


Our tree will never be a fancy designer tree with matching babbles and bows, but it is decorated with years of love. Ornaments range from Keepsake Frosty Friends, to handmade ones by friends and family. I’d guess there are over 150 ornaments we hang every year while reminiscing where the decoration came from and playing Christmas carols, joined by our parrot, Taco, dog, Mystic, and turtle, Sammie.  (Pictured is Taco in front of our very large Christmas Cactus just before she bit off several blooms.) LOL  A relaxing and  memorable start to our sometimes crazy Christmas season.

Homemade candy is another scrumptious and fun tradition. Fantasy Fudge, Divinity and my all-time favorite Beaver Dams.  

What are Beaver Dams you ask?  

Simple and tasty.  Take a 12 oz. package of butterscotch chips, melt them in a double boiler, stir in half-package of crispy Chow Mein Noodles and one-half can (about 8 oz) of cocktail peanuts. Stir until all ingredients are covered with butterscotch. Spoon the concoction onto foil and let set. They look like beaver dams, thus the name.  They taste fantastic.

Wishing you love and laughter all of your days!


A Demon’s Witch
Book One
Tena Stetler

Genre:  Paranormal Romance
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Date of Publication:  9-25-2015
ISBN: 978-1-5092-0309-3
ASIN:  B014BVSZIC
Number of pages:  314
Word Count: 82,115
Cover Artist: Kris Norris

Tagline:  Undeniable attraction and dark secrets between demon and witch promises to tear apart their professional and personal worlds.

Book Description:  

Keeping a lid on all the paranormal beings inhabiting Washington D.C., is a daunting job. Bruce, a six hundred year old demon and the Territory Overlord of the Western Hemisphere, keeps his finger on the pulse of DC’s power players through the activities at his highly successful Wycked Hair Salon. His movie star good looks and body builder physique keeps his dance card full and the rumor mills running.  Within these walls, his anonymity is safe, mostly. 

Bruce’s world spins out of control when Angelique, a pint size, gorgeous witch, with an attitude breezes through the doors of his salon. She is the younger sister of Tristian, Bruce’s long time trusted enforcer, whose professional skills are second to none. Tristian is furious at the relationship between Bruce and Angelique, a dangerous situation, but something darker awaits them all. Yet undeniable attraction between demon and witch promises to tear apart both their professional and personal worlds.

Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/9e5djB0mwVE

Amazon     Amazon UK        Amazon AU     Amazon CA 

Kobo      BN       iTunes       Wild Rose Press

Wal-mart     Google Play      Goodreads     BookBub




Excerpt

A feeling of dark foreboding, like storm clouds forming on the horizon before a violent storm, washed over Bruce as he maneuvered the SUV into the parking lot behind The Krystal Unicorn.

Tristian was already there and it wasn’t to give his report. Bruce could feel the fury in Tristian’s magic signature hanging in the air. A silver tipped arrow penetrated the windshield, split the arm securing the rearview mirror, and stuck in the headrest a quarter inch from Bruce’s neck. Blue liquid oozed from the tip and a stream of red mist escaped from the other end of the arrow. 

“Hold your breath and don’t open the door or windows. The influx of fresh air will spread the poison.” He hissed though his teeth not daring to take a breath.

Air pressure inside the vehicle changed, Angie’s head felt like it was going to explode. “Bruce.” She whispered into his mind, a benefit of being mated.

 “I know, just a few seconds more, I’ve got it handled.” His deep smooth voice floated reassuringly in her mind, as he reached over caressing her shoulder.

The pressure eased and the red mist sucked in on itself disappearing along with the oozing liquid. He pulled the arrow from the headrest, fingering the hole in the upholstery.

Through gritted teeth, Bruce growled. “His first mistake was that he missed me. His second deadly mistake was he risked your life. That is unforgivable.” Those two things also told Bruce that Tristian wasn’t thinking clearly, fury was coloring his judgment. That gave Bruce an edge, though the attack caught him off guard. He hadn’t expected Tristian’s attack to put his sister at risk.

The console between them lowered to seat level. He hoped to add  fuel to the fury burning inside Tristian. Bruce put his arm around Angie’s waist and pulled her against him, his lips pressed against hers then gently covered her mouth as his tongue traced the soft fullness of her lips. He drew back, touched his lips to hers again trailing them down to the pulsing hollow of her neck and whispered, “You’re going into the shop now, Willow is waiting just on the other side of the door. Please stay there, you’ll be able to remain in my mind just don’t interfere. I need your presence there as a calming one. Willow can help you.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I know, there wasn’t time to explain how everything works and I’m not exactly sure myself. Only that I can feel you in my mind and I assume you can feel me in yours.”

“Yes, it’s a weird sensation,” Angie said a tremor in her voice. 

 “We’ll learn together to use it to our benefit, now is as good a time as any to practice.”

She snorted, “Sure, our lives are on the line. No big deal.” She threw up her hands.

About the Author: 

Tena Stetler is a best-selling author of award winning paranormal romance 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. Colorado is home; shared with her husband, a brilliant Chow Chow, a spoiled parrot and a forty-five-year-old box turtle. When she’s not writing, her time is spent kayaking, camping, hiking, biking or just relaxing in the great Colorado outdoors. 

 Her books tell tales of magical kick-ass women and mystical alpha males that dare to love them. Travel, adventure and a bit of mystery flourish in her books along with a few companion animals to round out the tales



















a Rafflecopter giveaway

Black Oak : The Loveless Chronicles Chapter 1 by Titus Murphy

 


Black Oak 
The Loveless Chronicles 
Chapter 1 
Titus Murphy 

Genre: Horror, Fantasy
Publication Date: October 31, 2020
Publisher: Cosby Media Production 
ASIN: B08KRQDCGY

WELCOME TO BLACK OAK!

In the town of Black Oak, nothing is ever what it seems. Besides the wrangling local country-types, the city is marred by a history of indiscretions, murders, and no-named civilians perpetrating as heroes. But beneath the surface of this "run of the mill," Midwestern locale lurks a pervasive past that is about to come full circle: like a blazing blood moon.

Mark is an unassuming trucker who has fallen for a beautiful clerk working at a “Mom & Pop” store named Sharon, and nothing else in the world matters more than stealing her heart. But after making a run into the Bayou to deliver a package, destiny steps in and serves him a plate of "the unexpected," which sparks the flames of wickedness that will set his hometown ablaze. And as the secrets buried in this town begin to unearth, the truth will fan those burning flames until there is nothing left but ashes and chaos.

In the end, the only mystery left to solve will be if this is isolated to one town or involve the fate of the entire world...

FOREWORD REVIEW: "...full of interesting characters who hold attention...the secrets of their home are a binding force that brings the tale together."

CLARION RATING: 4/5 "In the fantasy novel Black Oak, citizens across two ears reckon with strange creatures among them."

Exclusive Bewitching Excerpt:

“I don’t mean to sound pushy,” Beth started, “but earlier you said that I’m a Dreamer. Tell me more about what that is.”

Zack turned away from Frank, walked over to Beth, and took a seat back at the table next to her. “I’m going to give you the short version,” said Zack, “only because I need to get to the real reason for our visit.”

“Of course,” said Beth.

“So straight to the point, you are a Dreamer, as I said before,” Zack said. “That makes you part witch and part psychic but with an added benefit of being more powerful than both. The main difference between you and normal witches is that you can see into the future without using magic because your psychic side empowers you to do so naturally. And you don’t even need to train this skill. Where other witches fail, you succeed because they don’t have the natural psychic ability you do. They have to use magic to see into the future.”

Beth gawked in amazement at Zack’s words. “So how far into the future can I see?” asked Beth.

Zack shrugged. “To be honest, I don’t know. But what I do know is that the answers you seek can only be found in the grimoire. The grimoire is the most powerful spell book among witches and warlocks. Every spell from growing flowers in your garden to conjuring up lightning is recorded in that book. Every name of every witch and warlock, whether good or bad, down to every war, including the Great War of 1782 is recorded in that book. You can even find spells on how to create magical objects like amulets and talismans.”

“And even the mystical arts of performing magical charms and divination, on summoning or invoking supernatural entities, is also a part of that book,” Zoë chimed.

“Do you know how many supernatural beings would love to get their hands on that book?” Zack added. 

“Where is the book now?” asked Beth.

“Long gone,” Zack said. “It was given to a very powerful witch like yourself to keep safe. She also was a dreamer, the first of your kind, and the only one until now. You are the second, my sister, in our 250 years of traveling on this earth.”

“Only the second?” said Frank. 

“Yes, only the second, and we’ve been everywhere in this world, so that should tell you something. Your wife’s kind is rare.”

 “Well, the question here for you to answer now is, who and where is the first?” asked Beth.

“Her name was Tiara. And she died along time ago,” replied Zack somberly.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Did you know her? I mean were you close with her?” asked Beth.

“Yes…very. She was the one who taught Zoë and me how to use our powers,” said Zack. His eyes beat over to Zoë. “She protected us during and after the Great War. If it wasn’t for her, we would’ve been dead long ago.”

“God, I miss her,” said Zoë, finally speaking up.

“Well, now that you know everything there is to know, keep this in mind. Power is innocent. The one who wields it…” said Zack with a brief pause. He pointed directly at Beth. “Well, that is what taints it. He or she must decide to use it for good or evil. That choice makes a difference.”

“Just remember who you are,” said Zoë, cutting in.

“I will,” said Beth.

“Good, now let’s get to the real reason why we’re here,” said Zack. “After the great battle back in 1782, Jackals and witches all went their separate ways as the town was no longer viable. The fallout of the fight was tremendous; houses were burned to the ground. Bodies were everywhere, and the land was saturated in blood and rotten flesh. The stench was unbearable. It was all a complete mess. So some witches migrated to the east while others went north. Zoë, Tiara, and I headed west. After settling down for a few months, we split up again and went our separate ways. Tiara told us she was going on a journey to find someone very important and that she would be back in approximately one year.”

“If you don’t mind me asking,” said Beth, “why didn’t you two go with her?”

“We wanted to, but she forbade it. She insisted that we remain behind and give aid to any stragglers that needed assistance,” said Zoë.

“Yes, she did,” said Zack as he nodded in agreement. “There is not a day that goes by that I don’t live with the regret of my decision that day.”

“So what happened to Tiara?” asked Frank.

“We never saw her again,” said Zack, his voice raspy and soft. “But anyway, after 30 years away from Black Oak, we had grown very powerful, teaching ourselves the ways of mysticism and sorcery. And then one day in the fall of 1812, Zoë and I felt something: a surge of power we’d not yet experienced before. Not since the Great War. It was all in the air, calling out to us. So we packed our things and followed the surge to its source until it led us back here to our original home of Black Oak.” Zack took a moment to smile as Zoë placed a gentle hand over his. “I could see the town in the distance and, as Zoë and I approached, we started preparing ourselves for a fight because we didn’t know who or what was living there. But the closer we got, our minds began to calm. The visions before us were heartwarming. People were everywhere. Families and friends were bustling about. The town was good as new. It was like nothing ever happened and the magic we felt there was good and pure and untouched by evil.”

“You could sense it,” said Zoë.

“And now it’s happening again, but only this time, the magic feels different. It’s evil for sure, I know it,” said Zack.

“How can you tell?” asked Beth.

“Answer one question for me,” said Zack, staring intently at Beth.

“Okay,” she replied.

“What did you sense from my sister and me when you first opened your door?” asked Zack.

“Good. I felt good in both of you,” said Beth. “Nothing bad…not even a little bit.”

“And I too felt the same thing when I saw you. And I’m not talking only about tonight,” said Zack. “But what I feel in this town now is wicked. Mark my words. Something is coming. What’s more, is that something is already here. And that should be impossible. Do you know why?” asked Zack as he stared at both Frank and Beth for an answer. 

They were both speechless, but Beth took a stab at it anyway. “There’s some special magic protecting us?”

“Yes. A force field—placed over this town hundreds of years ago by the witches, that was supposed to stop dangerous beasts or any other supernatural creatures from passing through,” said Zoë. 

“But I’m afraid the force field failed against whatever forced its way in. Now Zoë and I need to find out who or what it is before someone gets hurt or maybe worse…killed.”

“Killed?” Beth inquired.

“Yes. On the way over here, we came across a sea of dead bodies in the woods. Most likely campers who were mauled to death, and it looked like the work of Riffs,” said Zoë nonchalantly.

About the Author:

Titus Murphy was born and raised on the streets of New Orleans, Louisiana.  From a small child, there was an overarching desire for Titus to do one thing: win. His drive and determination drove him to succeed. Armed with a strong mind, a quick wit, and a sharp tongue, he set out to emblaze his mark on everyone he would encounter. Unknown to him were the overwhelming obstacles and seemingly insurmountable tragedy he would have to endure. From this devastation came a resolve fueled by an uncompromising commitment that resonates through every aspect of his life. Forced from the city he knew and loved, Titus relocated to Atlanta, Georgia. It was there his desire and commitment came together resolutely to birth a dream that had long been held in his heart. Oblivious to detraction, and beyond all doubt, Titus would become an author. From the streets of New Orleans that marked his life, to the ink-graced pages upon which he now pours his soul, Titus Murphy has come to show the world that he is truly…something more. 






Thursday, November 19, 2020

The Journeys of a Different Necromancer by James J Crofoot


The Journeys of a Different Necromancer
The Locked Door Series
Book One
James J Crofoot

Genre: Young Adult Fantasy
Date of Publication: August 2, 2020
ASIN: B08FCKJK5D
Number of pages: 100
Word Count:  20k

Book Description: 

Thomas wanted to learn to read and write things only Xavier the Necromancer could teach. But Thomas learned much more. He learned to raise the dead. Then, with his knowledge, he set out for the distant sea. 

Along the way, he made an army, encountered a dragon, and fought thieves by the score. But, could he continue to use the knowledge Xavier gave? Could he hold to his teacher's views that all people were self-centered, greedy, and jealous of him for being so much better? 

Could he return to the obsidian tower to live a life where the world was locked out, where his teacher had kept all life away to simply be left alone? Where no one ridiculed and beat him for being different? Could he return to a life where only the undead, his risen, kept him company?


Excerpt

“I was with Xavier,” Thomas replied. With head bowed, he stared at his stew, sensing he would not be allowed to eat.

“Who?” His mother’s voice. Her angry, high-pitched voice.

Thomas looked up at his father to see a pipe halfway to a gaping mouth. “Xavier, you know, he lives in the tower. He wants to teach me to read and write. He wants me to be his apprentice.”

His mother sat down and stared at him.

“He’s got lots of books, scores of them. He showed me a book with lots of animals in it.”

His da sat back in his chair, silent. His mum folded her hands in her lap, also silent.

“Think of it,” Thomas continued excitedly. “Think of the things I could do if I could read. I could go and work for the prince in Targon, I could see the whole kingdom.”

“Go to bed, Thomas,” Da said.

The boy gazed down at his untouched food. It smelled good and looked even better, but his father had spoken. Thomas got up and climbed the ladder to his loft. Deep into the night, even after his parents stopped their whispered arguing, he lay in bed thinking of the map Xavier had shown him of the kingdom. He would find a way. He would be…what word had Xavier used? Necromancer. He would be a necromancer and he would see the whole kingdom.

* * * *

In the morning, Thomas awoke to the smell of porridge. Having had no dinner the night before, he hurried down the ladder. There he found his da already eating. His mum ladled his share into a bowl and then got some for herself.

“We’ve decided you may learn to read and write. None of that dark stuff, though. You hear? No digging up of graves,” his da said. “We want more for your life, Thomas. Now then, what does this friend of yours want in return? We can’t afford to pay anything. I suppose he mentioned a price.”

Thomas looked at his mum as she sat down. She folded her hands in her lap and remained quiet.

“He said it would cost nothing. He just wants someone to teach. Xavier said he’s getting old and just wants someone to pass on some of ’is…” Thomas paused trying to remember the word. “…knowledge.”

Da wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “Then we’ll give it a try. Only til ’arvest, though. You’ll be needed in the fields then. Anything after that and we’ll see.”

A month and a half, Thomas thought excitedly. I have a month and a half!

“No good will come of this,” his mum remarked. “Mark my words, that man never did any good for anyone.”

Thomas finished his breakfast in a gulp and got up to run from the house. He stopped just outside the door to pick up his favorite stick and heard his da say, “I want better for him, Sonya. This life is no life for my son. He’s smarter than this.”

* * * *

A month passed and Thomas studied. He studied geography; the world turned out to be a lot bigger than he imagined. He learned arithmetic, how to count to a thousand. Then moved on to reading and writing, eight to nine hours a day he went through the books and scrolls. On the second and third floors of the tower stood skeletons of various animals, there he learned science, anatomy, and biology.

The fourth floor, however, Xavier said he needed to learn a good deal more before being ready for that.

“The villagers are shunning me,” he said to Xavier one day after learning the word. “They whisper about me whenever I pass. Even my friends. Yesterday I waved to them and started walking, to tell them what I was learning, and they turned their backs and ran away.”

Xavier looked up from the book he held. “People, for the most part, are very small-minded. They shun what they do not understand or things that are different.”

“Was that the way it was with you when you first started studying to be a necromancer?”

“People always thought me to be a little different. Look, Thomas, you will see more, you will do more, than they can imagine in their empty heads. You will learn to create life from death.”

Thomas thought about these words for some time. He wanted to do more than just plant and harvest. He wanted to travel this world, especially the sea to the west, to see more than just this tiny village too small for a name. He decided he liked being different. He was already learning more than they ever would. Did not that make him better?



About the Author:

James J Crofoot started working at 11 years old and never stopped. He’s been a sailor in the U.S. Navy, worked in video tape production, made money investing in stocks, and traveled throughout the US as a truck driver and an army brat. He’s been to all four corners of the US and to the top of every major mountain range in the United States. 

Through it all, writing has been his first love, companion, and constant friend. He has so many stories to tell, he plans to spend the rest of his life writing. 

Born in Germany he currently resides in the "Great Mitten" that is Michigan. He resides with his insane family consisting of his sister, two spoiled but loving nieces, a brother in law, and two dogs.

He hopes you’ll enjoy his books while sipping tea, coffee, or cocoa on a rainy day.










Tuesday, November 17, 2020

The House of the Wolf by Alison Baird



The House of the Wolf
The Werewolves of Quebec 
Book One
Alison Baird

Genre:  Paranormal, Werewolf
Publisher:  Salon Books
Date of Publication:  2017
ISBN: 0969803168
ASIN:  978-0-9698031-6-4
Number of pages:  426
Word Count:  131, 320
Cover Artist:  Y. Nikolova 

Tagline:  The wolf within is the greatest danger of all.

Book Description:

In the barren arctic, a white wolf journeys alone across the tundra. All his life he has dreamed of the strange creatures called humans that dwell far to the south –– creatures that wolf lore says have an ancient mystical kinship with his own species. Abandoning his pack, he sets out to make contact with human beings and learn the truth.  

In the state of Vermont, a young girl embarks on her own journey of self-discovery. 18-year-old Chantal Boisvert never knew her parents, and she is determined to learn more about them –– especially her French Canadian father, who died in mysterious circumstances. 

When she arrives in the province of Quebec the wealthy Boisvert family gives Chantal a seemingly warm and loving welcome. But then strange and sinister things start to happen. 

Why do her relatives slip away into the forest after sundown?  Why does she keep dreaming at night of being a wolf running in the wild?  Who is the attractive pale-haired boy who keeps turning up, and why do he and his friends seem so concerned for her safety?

Could it possibly be true that the Boisverts are loups garous –– werewolves?


Excerpt:

It was the wolves that woke her.

At some indeterminate point between sleep and waking she became conscious of a sound.  It insinuated itself subtly and delicately first into her ears, and then her mind, becoming part of her dreams: a sound she had never heard before, composed of multiple high-pitched cries.  She visualized these in her head as intertwining silver threads, weaving in and out of the darkness as if it were a backing of black velvet: each strand clear and shimmering and pure.  They reminded her of birdsong or whale-music.  But birds and whales are solitary singers: this was a whole chorus of ethereal voices raised, not in perfect harmony, but in a kind of counterpoint.  One voice would begin, soft and low, rising to a thin quaver; then the rest would join in.  Trying drowsily to analyze what she was hearing, Chantal moved at last from fragmented semi-consciousness into full waking awareness.

Wolves – it’s a wolf pack!

She had never heard wolves howl in the wild, only in movies where the sound effect used was a single long wail like a lonely dog’s.  Never had she imagined anything like this.  The sound was beautiful, but also unearthly.  She had heard of things that could make one’s hair stand on end; as she listened, she swore she could actually feel the fine hairs on her arms and the nape of her neck pricking up.  It must be her imagination though, for the odd sensation extended even to where she had no hair, on her cheeks and the backs of her hands and along her spine.  She alternately shivered as though cold, and then flushed as if with a fever.  Opening her eyes, she saw the moon at the window: full, round, tinged with gold; a “hunter’s moon”. 

Springing out of bed, she went to the window and opened it, letting in the chill night air.  She breathed it in, in deep hungry gulps.  But she still felt sweaty and flushed.  She tore off her pants and tee shirt and tossed them aside.  Now the night breeze blew upon her entire body, and her hot prickling skin responded to its icy caress as if to a physical touch.  A brief giddiness made her reel and clutch at the windowsill for support.  Chantal looked down at her hands resting on the sill. 

But they were no longer hands. 

They had become two grey-brown furred limbs ended in broad, clawed pads. It was the fur that made her feel so hot, she realized.  Her tongue lolled, panting, from her mouth, its soft length spilling over teeth and jaws that now had a different shape…

With understanding came not fear, but relief and joy.  She was not feverish after all, nor was she in any kind of danger.  This was obviously just a dream.  She would wake from it soon, as she did from every dream, and then everything would be all right.  But now the wolf-voices called again, and the dream-body she wore yearned for the freedom of the outdoors, for the cool scent-laden air and the exhilaration of running through the forest.  She glimpsed indistinct, shadowy shapes flitting through the blackness under the trees, and eyes like glimmering stars turned towards her in invitation.

In one light easy motion, Chantal sprang out of the window and into the night.

 

About the Author:

Alison Baird is the award-nominated author of numerous novels for both adult and young adult readers, including The Dragon's Egg (Scholastic Canada), White as the Waves (Tuckamore Books), The Hidden World, The Wolves of Woden, and the Willowmere trilogy (Penguin Canada), and The Dragon Throne trilogy (Warner Books). Baird has also published numerous works of short fiction in Canadian magazines and anthologies.  She lives in Ontario, Canada.








Friday, November 13, 2020

Author Interview - A Heart of Salt and Silver by Elexis Bell #interview #authorinterview



- What is your “day” job if you are not a full-time author?

I work in a tire factory. My official job title is Passenger Tire Builder. I operate a machine the size of a modest two-story house, assembling the various pieces of tires.

- If you wrote a book about your life what would the title be?

What is even happening?

- What is the hardest thing about being an author?

For me, it’s the marketing and networking. I’m not a people person, and I never have been. (Literally, never. I had the same two preschool teachers for both years of preschool and didn’t talk to either one for the first year and a half.)

So having to reach out to people, not only to say hi, but to say, “Hey, you should buy my book,” is incredibly difficult.

Doing so in person actually terrifies me. The last time I tried to set up a book signing, I ended up having a panic attack in the car after talking to extremely nice librarians.

- What is the best thing about being an author?

Where do I even start?

The pure creation and exploration of a new world with new people and animals? The exhilaration of an epiphany that makes the rest of the story come into focus? The interactive reading (editing) that follows? The joy of having someone seek you out to say that they loved your book or that it touched their heart in some way?

There are so many amazing parts of being an author.

I could never narrow it down to just one.

- Have you ever been starstruck by meeting one of your favorite authors? If so who was it?

Due to the whole social anxiety thing, I would never have the guts to approach one of my favorite authors if I saw them out in the wild. So unfortunately, the answer here is no.

- What book changed your life?

That’s a tough question. As far as books that I’ve read are concerned, probably… The Lovely Bones. As an abuse survivor, it’s always chilling to see a story of someone who didn’t survive.
Of my own books, I’d say Annabelle. It was such a cathartic story to write, and I genuinely hope it helps people who’ve been abused to know they aren’t alone and that they deserve better.

- What were some of your favorite books growing up?

The Snowbird by Patricia Calvert and The Juniper Game by Sherryl Jordan.

- What books are currently in your to be read pile?

Too many to name. Which is, I’m sure, a problem many can relate to. I have a three foot tall, three foot wide bookcase that is absolutely overflowing with books I want to read.

My next read is the Wielder series by Elle Cardy.

- Which do you prefer ebooks, print, or audiobooks?

Print, hands down. I almost never finish ebooks, for some reason. Whereas, I can count the print books I didn’t finish on one hand.

Audiobooks are fantastic for when I’m at work, though.

- If you could live inside the world of a book or series which world would it be and why?

The Destined Queen series by Deborah Hale. I love the magic system and the prophecies. I love the romance and the wonder within it. It’s a fantastic world.



A Heart of Salt and Silver
Elexis Bell

Genre: Dark supernatural high fantasy romance

Date of Publication: 11/3/2020

Cover Artist: Elexis Bell 

Tagline: With eternity on the line, is love worth the risk?

Book Description: 

Ness, a demi-demon with a conscience, just wanted a peaceful afternoon in the Forest of Immortals. But Elias, a reckless mortal, went and spoiled it. Not that he wanted to be chased by psychotic vampires.

After saving his life, Ness agrees to help him find his estranged father and his Pack. But that means facing Nolan, the werewolf ex that holds her heart.

Now, Ness must decide. Use Elias to forget Nolan at the cost of his soul or crawl back to her ex and hope he still wants her even though she broke his heart.

But in a world sprinkled with immortals, broken hearts might be the least of their worries.

Fans of gritty fiction, compelling romance, and imaginative takes on magic and the afterlife will love this dark supernatural high fantasy romance.


Excerpt 2:

With my good arm, I pull my leg up to bend the knee. Hiking the hem of my dress up, I reveal torn muscle and shredded skin. I wince as the fabric moves over it, tugging flaps of skin in directions they aren’t meant to go.

Elias’ hands set to work, scooping water up, and pouring it over my thigh. Each drop, gentle as the administration of them may be, pulls a moan of pain from my lips. Wrapping fingers tightly around a stone, I do what I can to bear the pain without making Elias feel worse.

The blood washes away, revealing the true devastation wrought by the dead wolf’s jaws. My leg hangs open, dark muscle showing itself to the sky as it was never meant to do.

“Itand have mercy,” he whispers, calling on the goddess of fortitude.

But she’ll spare no blessings for the likes of me.

“What do I need to do?” he asks. His eyes roam over me, and one hand finds its way to my cheek. Brows knitted together, he clearly longs for something to do, some reassurance that I’ll be ok.

Does he want me to be alright for the sake of spending more time together? Or merely for the sake of having an escort for the rest of the trek?

I hope for his sake that it’s the latter. But the well of loneliness within me wishes for the former.

Either way, there’s nothing he can do.

“My body will mend itself,” I tell him. “It’ll hurt, but it’ll mend. It’s already started.”

His eyes drop to my arm, my leg. The bleeding has stopped, and the cuts aren’t as deep as they were mere seconds ago. Had he seen it when the wounds were first inflicted, he likely would’ve been sick.

“I wish you would’ve let me help,” he murmurs, sliding his hand along my jaw until his thumb finds my earlobe.

Exhaustion pulls my inhibitions low. Despite myself, despite the guilt churning within me, I lean into his caress.

Nolan won’t want me back, anyway.

My heart shrinks from the thought, and I close my eyes, nuzzling my cheek into Elias’ palm.

“Letting you help would’ve been a terrible idea. They could never kill me. They had no salt, no silver. They couldn’t say any incantations.”

I pause, squeezing my eyes tight against the horrid images which flash before them. I don’t want to see the ways they could’ve hurt him. I don’t want to watch them tear him to shreds. I don’t want to see his blood on the ground.

“They could’ve killed you, though,” I whisper.

Suddenly desperate to see him alive and healthy, to ease my conscience just a bit, I open my eyes. Sure enough, he’s there, face inches from mine. The moonlight glows in his magnificent eyes, but the blood of the Howlers still adorns his face.

Reaching for his sodden shirt, I lift a corner of it to his face. Wiping away the dried blood, I memorize the strength in his jaw, the kindness in his eyes. I trace the small kink in his nose, a remnant from a previous fight.

From a distance, it’s almost impossible to notice, but this close…

My eyes drop to his lips, full and soft. They part, but only to speak.

Confusion wrinkles his brow. “If they couldn’t kill you, why were they sent after us? To maim you and kill me?”

“No,” I say, shaking my head. I stifle a groan as my thigh stitches itself together. “They sent them to find us. They know where we are, now. They know which way we were headed. They’ll find us.”

Those words sew our lips shut, for we both know. This won’t be the last of the vampire and his pledge. And if this was just the search party, what awaits us down the path?

About the Author: 

Elexis Bell is a quiet nerd with too many hobbies, including everything from gaming to shower-singing and even archery, weather permitting. She specializes in sarcasm and writing stories that make people feel. She's made a home for herself with her husband, their dog, and a small army of cats.

She writes dark, gritty stories, sprinkling gut-wrenching emotions over high fantasy romance, thrillers, post-apocalyptic romance, and science fiction.

For further information, follow her on Instagram, Twitter, or Facebook, or check out her blog on her website.

Website: www.elexisbell.com 

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Monday, November 09, 2020

Bewitching Book Tours Holiday Sale

 


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Friday, November 06, 2020

 



The Fifth Horseman
The Horseman’s Harem Saga 
Book One
Freida Kilmari

Genre: Reverse Harem Fantasy Romance
Publisher: Kilmari Publishing
Date of Publication: October 31st 2020
ISBN: 978-1-9993472-3-9
ASIN: B08K83QXWX
Number of pages: 458
Word Count: 120,000 words

Cover Artist: Covered Creatively

Tagline: No name. No past. One giant future?

Book Description: 

The only thing worse than suddenly waking up in a magical house with the insanely gorgeous Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse? Being the Fifth.

With no memory of who I am, where I came from, or what I’m doing here, I’m thrust into a new life with four people who I might want more from than just friendship. But with no past, how can I possibly plan for a future?

The only clue as to who I am? Four different species' magic resides within me—Vampire, Fae, Shifter, and Witch—and between them, I might be the most powerful creature on the planet.

For fuck's sake.

Look out world, Horseman of Magic coming through!



Excerpt 2

My head feels light, and my vision is a little dusty. The dizziness lasts a few moments, but the nausea settling in my stomach lasts for a fair few minutes more before I throw up my breakfast on the concrete floor.

When I lift my head to look around, Dea and Arrie stand together, looking at me like I’m some kind of amazing freak of nature. “Angel . . . You changed.”

“Yeah,” Arrie says, “you’re a . . .”

“A what?” I ask, but jump when I hear the masculinity of my voice. Looking down at my body, I’m suddenly naked, but that isn’t the most shocking part. My boobs have vanished, I suddenly have abs, and is that a . . . ?

“WHY DO I HAVE A PENIS?!”



Freida Kilmari is an author, writer, and editor residing in south-west England, who loves all things fiction. She has a passion for fantasy, romance, science-fiction, and poetry that runs her life, from her career to her passions.