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Sunday, June 26, 2016

Tales From Virdura by: Graham Downs w/ Interview

 


Title: Tales from Virdura
Author: Graham Downs
Series: Kingdom of Virdura (Book 2)
Genre: Fantasy
Publisher: Self Published
Release Date: June 1 2016
Edition/Formats: eBook
Source: Author via RBTL Book Promotions
Blurb/Synopsis:
Explore Virdura, a world full of fantasy, magic, and drama.
Find out what happens when a dashing young farmer's son swoops a neighbouring daughter off her feet.
Meet Queen Tricia and the Royal Wizard Solon. Or Queen Celeste, her daughter, as she continues to struggle to come to terms with her new role as queen after the death of her mother.
Or read about Tobin the Bounty Hunter as he takes down Jarvis, a merciless criminal who brutally slit a blacksmith's throat.
All these stories and more await you in Tales From Virdura, a collection of flash fiction stories that take you deep into the world and the lives of the characters who inhabit it.
If you enjoyed reading A Petition to Magic, this might just be your next read.
You'll find out more about old characters and meet new ones. You'll read prequels and origin stories, and you'll read original stories taking place in new locales within the Kingdom.
This book can be enjoyed as a companion to, or separate from, A Petition to Magic Book 1 in the Kingdom of Virdura Series.


This is a free story out of the collection. It’s called Runt Wizard, and it’s an origin story for Solon the wizard, a principle character in the book’s sequel, A Petition to Magic:
Young Solon stared stoically ahead as two of his tormentors held him down, and a third ripped off his shirt from behind.
He gritted his teeth as the thin reed stung his naked back. And a second time. And a third.
Solon vowed that he would not cry out. He was the son of the Royal Wizard, and he would carry himself as such.
Three other children danced around him, snorting like pigs and calling him names.
"Foolborn runt!" they chanted. "Where is your all-powerful magic now?"
The mocking continued, and the lashings went on. Seven now, and Solon could feel blood trickling down his back. He focused on the smell of the boys' sweat, mixed in with the dust of the dry, arid field they were in. Despite himself, a single tear ran down his left cheek.
"Oh, he's a cry-baby now too, eh?" said one of the boys. "Pathetic son of a useless mage."
Something inside Solon snapped. His eyes shot open, and under his breath, he began reciting an old incantation.
Another thwack of the reed.
"What's he doing now, do you think?"
"Speaking gibberish. I think we may have beaten him a little too hard, boys."
While his tormentors laughed, nobody noticed the storm clouds gathering overhead. Nobody paid any attention to the flash of lightning, and clap of thunder indicating how close it was.
Above a boy's head (the one who had insulted Solon's father), the sky crackled, and a blue bolt began to take shape, high up in the clouds.








Saturday, June 18, 2016

Rekindled Flame by: Andrew Grey w/ Guest Post & Giveaway


Title: Rekindled Flame  
Author: Andrew Grey
Series: (Set in the Bronco Boys Universe) (Book 1 in Spin Off)
Genre:  M/M Contemporary Romance
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Release Date: June 13 2016
Edition/Formats Available In: eBook & Print
Blurb/Synopsis:
Morgan has worked hard to build a home for himself after a nomadic childhood.  When Morgan is called to a fire, he finds the family out front, but their tenant still inside.  He rescues Richard Smalley, who turns out to be an old friend he hasn't seen in years and the one person he regretted leaving behind. 
Richard has had a hard life.  He served in the military where he lost the use of his legs and has been struggling to make his way since coming home. Now that he no longer has a place to live, Morgan takes him in, but when someone attempts to set fire to Morgan’s house, they both become suspicious and wonder what's going on.

Years ago Morgan was gutted when Richard moved away, so he’s happy to pick things up where they left off, but now that Richard seems to be the target of an arsonist, he may not be the safest person to be around.


“How on earth did Morgan find me again after all these years?” Richie asked himself as he tried to get his head around the fact that he’d lost everything, it had been Morgan who’d rescued him from the burning building, even though he didn’t remember, and now Morgan had taken him in. What was even more remarkable was that Morgan looked every bit the part of a firefighter rescuer. He was nothing like the thin, wiry boy he’d known when they were kids. There were moments when his smile or the way he bit his upper lip when he was thinking hearkened back to the boy he knew, but mostly this was someone he didn’t recognize.
Morgan was tall, broad, and strong. He did have the same intense eyes and jet black hair. It wasn’t as though he doubted Morgan was who he claimed, but Richie didn’t recognize this person. That is, until he took that trip down memory lane. Once they grew quiet and the fatigue caught up with him once again, he dozed off.
Richard hated sleeping. It was when the memories he’d spent four years trying to run away from caught up with him. During the day he could keep them away—life kept them at bay. Someone had called sleep a minideath or something. Well, for him it was true. Death and destruction haunted and plagued his dreams. He knew them well. Richard had met them up close and personal, and they’d left their scars on both his body and mind.
This time on Morgan’s sofa was different. When he dozed off, they stayed away. He had no doubt they’d return, but for now, this afternoon, he was on a huge beach in a bathing suit. His was green, and Morgan’s was red. His friend carried water in a container so big he rocked back and forth with each step. It had a spout on it, and Morgan set it at the top of the incline. Then the two of them dug a small hole and began digging a raceway for the water to follow back to the lake. All around them were people talking and kids laughing. “Are you ready?” Morgan asked, scurrying up to where Richard was putting the finishing touches on the raceway.
“Almost,” Richard said, hurrying excitedly to finish the bend in the raceway. He handed Morgan a large rock. “Use that as a dam right there. If we got the angle right, it could act like a waterfall on the downward side. That will be cool.”
Morgan dug where he indicated and placed the rock. When Richard finished, he helped, and when everything was ready, Richard turned on the water. It filled the initial pool and then spilled out, running slowly down the raceway, around the various bends and up to the rock dam. It filled the lake behind and then reached the top and spilled over, continuing down. Richard turned to Morgan, who was grinning, and watched as he raced toward him. Suddenly Morgan clutched his chest, smile fading, fingers covered in blood. He gasped and fell to his knees before collapsing onto the ground. Richard stood helpless as the raceway flowed red down to the lake.
He woke with a gasp, sitting up, looking at the grown-up Morgan as he tried to inhale. It was a dream, another reminder of how messed up and freaky his mind worked now. Thankfully Morgan smiled at him and turned back to the television. “You have to be hungry.”
“I guess I am.” He willed the residual images from his mind. “I hate that I can’t remember anything without my thoughts getting all twisted up.”
“Let me guess. You start out down a normal path and suddenly you’re back on the battlefield or it turns gruesome,” Morgan said, and Richard wondered how he knew. “I’ve taken classes. First thing, because we have to deal with losing people under traumatic, stressful situations, and there are times when we deal with someone who’s in a fire but thinks they’re back on the battlefield. Stress can do some wild things to people, so we have to be trained for anything.”
“I was starting to think you were reading my mind.” He stopped short of telling Morgan about his dream. It usually didn’t go over too well when he told someone he’d dreamed their death.







Friday, June 3, 2016

Fire and Ice by: Andrew Grey w/ Giveaway


Title: Fire and Snow  
Author: Andrew Grey
Series: Carlisle Cops #4
Genre:  M/M Contemporary Romance
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Release Date: May 20 2016
Edition/Formats Available In: eBook & Print
Blurb/Synopsis:
Fisher Moreland has been cast out of his family because they can no longer deal with his issues. Fisher is bipolar and living day to day, trying to manage his condition, but he hasn’t always had much control over his life and self-medicated with whatever he could find.
JD Burnside has been cut off from his family because of a scandal back home. He moved to Carlisle, but brought his Southern charm and warmth along with him. When he sees Fisher on a park bench on a winter’s night, he invites Fisher and his friends for a late-night meal.
At first Fisher doesn't know what to make of JD, but he slowly comes out of his shell.  And when Fisher’s job is threatened because of a fire, JD’s support and care is more than Fisher ever thought he could expect.  But when people from Fisher’s past turn up in town at the center of a resurgent drug epidemic, Fisher knows they could very well sabotage his budding relationship with JD.


Once he’d showered, Fisher wrapped a towel around his skinny waist and pulled open the medicine cabinet. He pulled out the weekly pill container he set up each Sunday and opened it, groaning softly when he realized today was Sunday and his pills for Saturday were sitting in their slot. At least that explained the blues that had descended over him and the roller coaster he’d been on. It also accounted for the few hours he couldn’t remember from last evening. Oh, he remembered the restaurant with JD, Red, and Terry, and the food, the talking, the lightheartedness. But pretty much all he remembered about the hours before that was being cold and alone. The feeling stayed with him even if the exact memories of what happened were lost.
Fisher doled out his upcoming week of medications into their slots, then took his Sunday pills from the container, placed them in his palm, and chased them with a shot of water. Then he went back into the bedroom, dressed, and checked himself in the mirror as well as the time.
He had five minutes before he had to leave, and he needed to eat when he took his pills. He hurried to his tiny kitchen, pulled open the refrigerator, and grabbed an apple. There was only one but it would have to do for breakfast. He ate it as he left the house and got into his car for the four-mile drive to work.
When he pulled into the lot and parked, there were a lot of people heading the same way he was. They were saying good morning and greeting each other, chatting away. Fisher pushed his hands into his pockets and walked, head slightly down, the way he always did. Into the warehouse, punch in, check the systems, and then out to the yard-control booth near the entrance, where he’d meet incoming drivers and explain where they were to go. That was his day, every day the warehouse was running. He spent a lot of his time either speaking with the drivers or simply sitting and waiting. In his pocket was a small paperback that he could read on his break and lunch.
“Morning,” one of the men said as he passed Fisher. Fisher returned the greeting, then sat in his chair and began checking in the first of many trucks waiting to deliver their loads. By the time his morning was over, Fisher had spoken to dozens of drivers coming into the yard and an equal number waiting to be checked out with their loads to be shipped. He was the first and last line of defense in the yard, and Fisher took his job seriously. He was always meticulous and careful, checking each load against manifests and documentation.
“It’s lunchtime,” Ellen, his supervisor, said as she approached the booth. “I’ll take over for you so you can go in and eat.” A few months ago, after she realized Fisher was staying in the booth and eating a sandwich at his computer, she had started intervening, spelling him for lunch.
“Thanks.”
“You spend way too much time alone,” she told him as she settled in the seat. “I did this job for four years before you came, and there were times I wanted to pull my hair out. In summer it was hot as hell, and in winter, cold as blazes.”
“I don’t mind,” Fisher said. “I guess I’m a loner by nature.” He turned, waved once, and walked across the yard to the main building and down to the lunchroom.


















Andrew grew up in western Michigan with a father who loved to tell stories and a mother who loved to read them. Since then he has lived throughout the country and traveled throughout the world. He has a master’s degree from the University of Wisconsin-Milwaukee and works in information systems for a large corporation.
Andrew’s hobbies include collecting antiques, gardening, and leaving his dirty dishes anywhere but in the sink (particularly when writing)  He considers himself blessed with an accepting family, fantastic friends, and the world’s most supportive and loving partner. Andrew currently lives in beautiful, historic Carlisle, Pennsylvania.













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Sunday, May 29, 2016

Curious Little Werewolf by Katie Salidas w/ Interview


Title:  Curious Little Werewolf
 Author:  Katie Salidas
Series:  Little Werewolf (Book 2)
Genre: YA Paranormal
Publisher:  Rising Sign Books
Release Date:   May 24 2016
Blurb/Synopsis:
Things would be perfect if supernatural disasters would quit creeping up and ruining Giselle’s happy new life. After finally finding the fur-ever home she’s always wanted a witch blows into town promising to reveal the bloody past of Giselle’s birth, and the circumstances that led the little werewolf to end up in the foster care system to begin with.
Hot on the witch’s trail, another pack of wolves is on the hunt for revenge, and will accept nothing less than her death in retribution for the havoc she’s wrought on them.
Caught in the crossfire, Giselle desires only the truth, and if the witch is who she claims to be, the little werewolf must protect her at any cost. If she’s lying, though, Giselle risks her own kind seeing her as a traitor. Neither her new pack nor her hottie witch boyfriend Damien can offer any help.
Giselle is on her own again. And if she makes the wrong decision, she’ll lose the only link she has to her own past.



“Not running away, are you?” David’s haughty tone mocked her more than his words could have.
“No. I just like to walk in the service alley. Fresh air and all,” she lied, but closed the gate all the same.
“Of course. Lone wolves often cannot handle the formality of pack life. I bet I’m quite the thorn in your side tonight, am I right?” David sounded more congenial now than he’d been all night. The sudden shift piqued her interest.
She turned to face him. “Still learning my place. You know. Child of the system and all of that.”
David nodded with a little “Um-hmm” as he stroked his beardless chin. “What do you know of your history?” he asked after a moment of reflection.
Giselle cursed under her breath. She’d been so close to leaving and avoiding this whole mess of a question. David had not taken his eyes off of her since they’d sat down to dinner, but she’d been warned to play nice, and had held her tongue. Now, being cornered like this with him asking questions she wasn’t comfortable discussing set her teeth on edge.
“Nothing, really.” She shrugged as if none of what she had to say carried any importance. “I was abandoned. Fostered, then adopted.”
“That’s is the short of it, isn’t it?” He snickered, finally a genuine laugh of sorts, given the stick planted firmly up his ass. It lightened the mood between them enough for Giselle to feel comfortable taking a few steps closer to him. David crossed his arms and immediately regained his air of regality. “Where were you first taken in? Did your parents tell you?”
She’d had a set of parents until her first change had scared them half to death. At nine, she’d been sent back into the system, and been passed around Oregon like a hot potato until finally they’d sent her to Vegas. But she wasn’t sure how much of that she wanted to tell David. “I didn’t come from Vegas, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“You’re awfully defensive.”
Understatement of the year, she nearly said, but chose to stick her foot even further in her mouth. “And you’re kind of nosy.” Giselle regretted it almost immediately.
David’s eyes narrowed, his mouth forming a hard line of anger. The silence between them suddenly became deafening; even the crickets and cicada bugs had quieted, leaving only the screaming of her conscience telling her she’d overstepped this time.
Under the scrutiny of his angered glare, part of Giselle felt fear. He claimed to be their regional leader, but she had no reason to respect him. She’d always been  a lone wolf, and that mindset awarded no loyalty to anyone who had not earned it.
“I understand you are unfamiliar with our ways, so I’ll let your disrespect slip this once, but you will have to learn your place.” His eyes bore into hers.
She met his stare full on, her wolf rising to the surface, filling her with all the power she held within. “Respect is earned.”
They stared locked for what felt like an eternity, and then small creases formed in David’s brow. His eyes softened. “Very true, young Alpha. But remember it goes both ways.”
She’d expected him to lash out. Her wolf was at the ready for a fight. She knew she’d have lost against a full grown male – she still had much to learn where fighting was concerned – but her strength of will went a long way. “I’m not comfortable with your line of questioning. My past is not a subject I like to think about, as it has not been pleasant.”
“Now that is an acceptable answer.” David nodded. “My interest in you has to do more with why and how you fell into the system, rather than you personally. It is not common for our kind to last long on our own. We need our packs.”
She’d expected him to lash out. To impose his will as Alpha. But instead, he had responded with a more than fair and even tone, even commending her personal strength. Perhaps she had not given him the chance he deserved. Giselle considered it for a moment before revealing more of her past. “I came from Oregon. All over Oregon. My… condition… obviously caused problems.”
“And your attitude as well, I bet.” David chuckled again, another genuine laugh that showed in his eyes. Much less the creeper now, she understood his scrutinizing gaze to be more a part of his personality as Alpha.
She nodded. “I have been known to go my own way, yes.”
“That’s not safe for a young wolf.”
“So I’ve been told many times.”
“A good alpha knows when to listen to the advice of others. It’s not always about having your own will be done.”
“Still learning that part.”
“For a true alpha, that is probably the hardest lesson of them all. It’s easy to think you can do what you will, consequences be damned, but the reality is, without thought, actions are meaningless.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.”
“No. You won’t. You’re placating me, hoping I’ll end our conversation soon, so you can retreat to the safety of your sisters and recount all that you’ve gleaned from your time with me. Go. It’s fine. They will be your council this evening. And some years down the line, my words will come back to you.”
He’d nailed it. She was planning to do just that.
“Does this mean I’m free to go?” Giselle made a show of bowing to him.
 “I’m not your enemy, despite what you may think. It is in my best interest to ensure the health and good care of all under my domain. Cases like yours are quite special, and as you no doubt guessed, fraught with problems. Humans don’t want to know we exist, and we’d like to keep it that way too. That is why I asked what you know – so I can look into why it happened and help prevent it from happening again.”
It all sounded good, and he was probably well intentioned, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that there was more behind his questions than Alpha duty. She saw it in his eyes. There was a personal level to his line of questions as well. And if she had hit the nail on the head, it was Cassandra, and his desire to find and punish her for what she had done. That, she wouldn’t allow.
“Like I said, I don’t have much I can tell you. It was a blur of foster parents since my first change.”
“If you do somehow remember something, please let me know. I will be here in Vegas until the end of the week.”
Giselle nodded and walked past him back into the house. She’d text Cassandra at the very least and let her know the wolves were on to her.



Amazon UK
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Blood Secrets by: Elizabeth Morgan w/ Interview


Title: Blood Secrets  
Series: Blood Series (Book #2)
Genre: Urban Fantasy  
Publisher: Self Published
Release Date: April 22 2016
Edition/Formats It Will Be Available In: eBook & Print
Blurb/Synopsis:
When your life is messed up to begin with, how much worse can it really get?
Heather Ryan's life has never been simple. The latest in a long line of descendants who have made it their mission to hunt down and slay the Ancient Vampire, Marko Pavel, she is also the first born Infected. Up until recently, the biggest downside to living with the Vampyrric Virus was simply that she craved blood, but after receiving a DVD from her deceased Grandmother Sofia and being kidnapped with friend and so called guardian Werewolf, Brendan Daniels, she quickly discovers that she is also the inspiration behind the Vampires’ attempt to create a whole new breed of super monsters—Hybrids.
The truth comes at a cost, but how much does one have to sacrifice to gain success?
Following the breadcrumbs left by her psychic Grandmother, Heather and Brendan find themselves in new territory. Venice is where Heather hopes to find Marie, the second Bloodling of Marko, along with Brendan's three taken Pack members. But an old Peace Pact between the Italian Pack and the Colony means they are left hunting blind, and due to the Italian Alpha's reluctance to believe their story of kidnap and experimentation on Loup-Garous, time is running out. So when help comes from an unlikely source, they have no choice but to accept.
All families have secrets, but blood can't lie.
Caught up in an intricate and complicated scheme spun by the one she trusts the most and the friend of her enemy, Heather soon discovers that she is the pawn in a plan she would never have been able to conceive. But how many of her new allies were in on the game, to begin with?


The walkway appeared desolate... Darkness almost shrouded the passage, but the streetlights of Venice, which stretched across the seemingly black water of the Grand Canal, cast slithers of light through the tall stone arches. A gust of wind ran past me and I shivered, the small tremble causing drops of water to fly from my soaked clothing and stain the grey slabs beneath me.
A howl pierced the night sky, then another and another; a unison of agonizing cries echoing around the maze of buildings that made Central Venice so unique.
To say that Ken doll was going to be pissed that I had took off was an understatement, but I couldn’t lose this chance. I wasn’t going to lose Marie.
Pulling my sword from its sheath, I made my way towards the intricate iron gates which were open, held in place by chains that locked into two hoops that protruded from the grey bricks.
Moving past the rough metal, I peered into the square, outer foyer to find the main double doors to the nest stood wide open in invitation, giving me the perfect view of the long, quiet hallway. I inhaled deeply. The stench of ancient earth polluted the air.
With a steadying breath, I stepped through the doorway and past the two round pillars. Three large iron lanterns hung from the ceiling. A mosaic of stained glass caging the bulbs inside, casting fragments of multi-coloured light across the cream walls. The glow from them curled around the sculptures lining the walls, the shadows of their perfect forms stretched across the blank canvas, disfiguring as I moved past them.
My heart thundered in my chest, so loud that I was pretty damn sure it was drowning out the squelch of water in my boots as I tread lightly and swiftly across the coral and ivory diamond tiles. Droplets of water continued to travel down my skin and beneath my clothes, which already clung to me like a second skin. My curls were a drenched mess. Stray strands had escaped the bun I had shoved my hair in earlier, the wet chunks sticking to my face and neck.
I walked past the two sets of closed double doors which sat across from each other. My focus strayed to the enclosed, dimly lit stairwell on my right.... It was now blocked off by an iron gate similar to the one protecting the front entrance. Another set of doors sat closed to my left, but it was the archway at the end of the hallway that I was drawn to—the only other doors that lay wide open in invitation, and despite the light in the chamber being dim, I knew she was in there, waiting for me.
Oxygen burned my lungs. A stitch had claimed my right side, and the scent of blood from my weeping wounds had my senses peaking. Only this task remains.
Tightening my grip on the hilt of my sword, I moved into the large chamber. No furniture filled the space. All the curtains were drawn. The dark, thick material ran the length of the wall, indicating that the windows stood from ceiling to floor. The walls were painted in panels of patterns so fine, but I couldn’t make out the details. Not that the particulars of the interior of a nest ever really mattered. Although, this was by far the fanciest I had been in. My feet faltered as my gaze landed on him.
He stood like a statue in the centre of the room, his unseeing eyes, like white, misted glass, vacant and icy, focused on me. He could see me. He could see right through me....
The air caught in my lungs as pain seared through my lower back. I lurched, a scream lodged in my throat.
“You should have run while you had the chance.”
His voice sent a chill sweeping across my already frozen flesh.
I spun, sword loose in my grip, swiping at air. A delayed reaction, which only caused pain to ripple up my spine. Heat pulsed at the base of my back, a seeping warmth drawing the material of my damp T-shirt. The scent of my blood hit me once more. Shit.
“Brave of you to come back,” a female chortled.
Wiping the back of my hand across my eyes, I looked round the room. There was nowhere for her to hide but the shadows which claimed the corners. But why was she even hiding?
“What’s the matter, Marie? Are you afraid to face me one-on-one?” I straightened, gritting my teeth at the splintering pain stretching from my head to my toes. “I expected more from a first generation Leech, more from Marko’s Bloodling than peak-a-boo-attack.”
“You flatter yourself,” he said calmly.
I did. There was no reason for her to hide from me. Perhaps she wasn’t. Perhaps, this was just a game of cat and mouse to her, and she wanted to draw it out for as long as possible. Despite the fact she should be running for her wretched immortal life, despite the fact that she was no longer safe in her own territory, she hadn’t run. She was either egotistical or foolish, or maybe just clueless. One way or another, she was going to die before the sun rose.
“Face me, Marie,” I growled, tightening the grip on my sword. “Your son at least had the balls to—”
The air left my lungs as a weight barrelled into me.
In the back of my mind, I registered my sword slipping from my hand. A fact that was confirmed as the sound of metal clattering against marble echoed throughout the room. My head made impact with the wall. Pain exploded at the back of my skull. Stars burst behind my eyelids in a rush of glittering colours. I crumpled to the floor.
“Never speak of my son, puttana disgustosa.”
The words were snarled, but seemed distant due to the pounding in my ears. My eyes snapped open as blood coated my tongue. I rolled onto my side, gagging, wanting so badly to throw up, and yet, I had the urge to gulp, to swallow; to drink, and it was so damn strong.
“Pathetic.”
The word hammered at my temples, causing the pain that already cradled my head to stab sharper.
Pathetic. Perhaps I was pathetic. Perhaps I had been fooling myself all these years for clinging on to humanity when every primal instinct inside me hungered for blood, even my own. I was sick. I was no better than the monsters I killed, but I knew that already... Didn’t I?
“...you are not human, Heather. You have been lying to yourself. Thinking you can survive this way, lead a ‘normal life’ when you were born to be so much more...”
His words echoed in my mind, taunting me even though he stood quietly at the centre of the room.
“It is almost laughable, the idea that you thought you could stop us, destroy Marko after all those before you have failed.”
Breathing fast and hard, I twisted onto my knees. My arms trembled as I tried to push myself up.
“Where is he?” I bit the words out.
Marie’s foot connected with my abdomen. A crunch met my ears. Another scream lodged in my throat. Fists clenched, I curled myself into a ball, sucking in sharp breaths through my teeth as I tried to fight past the pain pulsing inside me.
“Where. Is. Marko?” The words were broken and strained as I tried to lift my head to look at her.
Marie grabbed me by my hair. A strangled cry burst from my lips as she dragged me up, sliding me against the wall. Nausea exploded in my stomach. Numbness claimed my cheeks and neck. I kicked helplessly. My legs were deadweight, but pins and needles shot through my calves each time my boots scuffed against the brick. I couldn’t feel my fingertips as I wrapped my hands round her wrist, feebly trying to break her iron grip.
She grabbed me by the throat with her free hand and pinned me high above her head. My hands dropped to the arm now holding me against the cold wall. My eyes widened as she stepped closer, into the soft stream of light coming through the doorway. If I could have breathed, I would have stopped at the sight of her angular, almost amphibian features.
Sweet Jesus, so this is what a first generation Vampire in full form looks like?
Like all transformed Vampires, her head was void of hair, but the bones beneath her face were moving. Her skin looked pasty and brittle as it stretched across the sharp and unnatural angles of her jaw and cheek bones. Her nose had caved into her skull, but her nostrils were large and wide, bat-like. And her eyes—deep crimson, so fucking inhuman, so lifeless I might have shivered if I had the strength to. The skin wriggled across her face... She was still shifting?
How much uglier can she get?
I jolted as something razor-sharp punched into my gut. Blood flooded my mouth, leaking from the corners as I fought to breathe. Tears filled my eyes as I glanced down, noting her free hand had pushed against my abdomen, her fingers embedded deep inside me.
“In the last place you, or any of your pathetic family, would ever think to look for him.”
Reality slowed down, or perhaps it was my heartbeat. Perhaps I was blacking out, but despite the pins and needles that tingled from my fingers straight down to my toes, the numbness that claimed every part of my body, despite the only feelings I had left being pain as she squeezed every breath of air from me, despite that, at this very moment, the only thing I should have been thinking about was that I was about to die, that I had failed my family, my grandmother... Brendan... a bulb pinged in my mind, and I had never seen the light so fucking clearly.
Her tongue slithered towards me, flicking across the blood staining my lips. She shuddered. “You should not have murdered my son.”
A howl echoed throughout the building. Hope fluttered in my struggling heart.
“It is time to leave.”
His voice jolted me, so innocent and calm, completely un-fazed by the scene playing out before him.
I lurched as she pulled her hand from inside me. Through my blurred gaze, I caught sight of the length of her now blood-stained talons as she brought her fingers to my face.
“Die knowing that you have failed, like the rest of your feeble family.”
Bones cracked and her jaw dislocated, her mouth widened, as her fangs extended—
A mountain of black fur barrelled into her.
I landed on the floor. My body screamed in protest, but no sound left me. I couldn’t feel my fingers or toes. Hell, I couldn’t feel my body. Just the pain that resided in every point she had struck.
Dark shadows moved around the room, accompanied by growls and ear-splintering wails.
Another thundering howl rang through the building. I moved my focus to the doorway and found a copper-blond Werewolf standing in the frame. His golden gaze landed on me, widening.
My eyes fluttered, and the next thing I knew, he was beside me.
“I know where he is,” I rasped as Brendan’s flushed, sweat-slicked face filled my vision.
 “Shit. Heather?” Brendan’s hands fell to my stomach.
Searing pain exploded outward, stretching to my head and toes. An inhuman cry gurgled in my throat, the action causing more blood to ooze from my mouth.
“Christ.” Tears threatened to emerge in his emerald gaze. His hands moved to my face. “Why—What?” His jaw was tense. A growl vibrated in his throat. “God damn it, Heather. Why couldn’t you have fucking waited?”
A smile touched my lips. “Because, silly Wolf—” I closed my eyes. My brain felt as though it were churning in my skull, “—I now know where Marko is.”
Darkness took me.




ARe

Saturday, May 21, 2016

Aligned (Vol. 1) by Ella Miles w/ Interview


Title: Aligned
Author: Ella Miles
Series: Aligned (Vol 1)
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Publisher: Self Published
Release Date: Nov 8 2015
Edition/Formats: eBook & Print
Blurb/Synopsis:
He’s an arrogant complication.
I don’t care if Landon Davis has sold millions of records. I don’t care that his damn crooked grin makes my panties wet.
I can’t want him.
I should be mourning, but I can’t. I just need him gone. Then I can align the chaos floating in my head.

——
She has a f*cking boyfriend.
I’ve seen the picture of them together. But Alex Blakely still wants me. And who am I not to oblige when her body is begging for me?
I need one night to own her body.

I should be focused on getting my career out of the gutter. I’ll take one night first. Then I’ll be gone. 


I release her mouth and start to nibble on her neck. She screams as I do. So sensitive to my every touch. I trail my kisses down her neck to the peaks poking out of her dress. She moans again as I massage her breasts. I grin as I pull her lips back into my mouth. “I love screamers.”
She breathes heavily. “I …” I kiss her neck again letting another scream escape her lips. “… am not …” But she grins as she groans loudly when I tease her nipple beneath the thin fabric of her dress.
I see the wicked gleam in her eyes when she gets an idea. She grabs my hard cock beneath my jeans, massaging it roughly. I groan loudly from the unexpected touch. God, I want to take her right here on the beach. She pushes my shirt up needing to feel my skin against hers. She kisses up my abs to my chest as I moan at her warm kisses. I growl into a loud scream when she bites down on my shoulder, tasting me. “Good thing I love screamers too,” she teases back.
I toss her onto her back pressing my own body hard on top of her, ready to retaliate the pain she just caused me. She squeals again as I squeeze her nipple hard. “You don’t play fair,” she moans.
“Playing by the rules is never fun.”






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