Tuesday, January 16, 2018

ARCHIVE: A Vampire New Year's Eve Celebration

Posted by: PG Forte
From the archives: I first posted this on my own blog on 12-23-15, as part of a blog hop I was involved in. But I thought it was somewhat timely to revisit it now. 2015 had been a great year, personally, and I had no idea how relatively lousy the next two years would end up being. In fact, I remember feeling nothing but optimism for the coming year. Ha!

It's interesting, though, that I'd have chosen to look back at NYE 99, which I  remember as being a frenetic mix of hope and dread.

What can I say? The more things change, the more they stay the same.

*

I think  you'd approach New Year's a little differently if you were a vampire. Especially after the first several hundred years. With so many chances to get things right--and so many years to regret mistakes-- I suspect every New Year's Eve would be either more poignant or less momentous for the undead.

At least that's the premise I've been working with in my Children of Night series. I'm highlighting this series in this post because the newest book in the series, To Curse the Darkness just released on December 22.

My vampires are, not unexpectedly, living under cover, attempting to blend in and act like humans. As a result, they end up celebrating all sorts of holidays, New Year's Eve among them. In fact, in the course of just two books in the series--Now Comes the Night and Ashes of the Day--they celebrate a total of five different New Year's Eves: from 1968 up until the present.


Here's an excerpt of just one of them. This is from Ashes of the Day:  

December 31, 1999
New Year’s Eve

Damian leaned against the railing of the second-floor balcony and cast a jaded eye over the crowded ballroom below. The decorations were a tad overdone, in his opinion. Gaudy gold-and-silver Mylar festooned every surface—the bar, the tables, even the walls. The glare all but blinded him. Overhead, a billowing mass of champagne- and platinum-colored balloons were tethered to the ceiling, awaiting the stroke of midnight, when they’d be released. The last day of the year had dwindled down to the final hour. Y2K was on the verge, that ticking time bomb that would shortly send the world hurtling back toward the dark ages…or not.

Either way, Damian could not find it in himself to be concerned, or even very interested, in the fate of the world. The new millennium, as most people counted it, was about to begin. For the time being, it was still 1999 and the throng of people gathered on the hotel dance floor was certainly partying like it.

Exhibiting far more enthusiasm than skill, the crowd sang loudly along with Prince’s signature anthem as they bounced and gyrated to the music. The once-familiar song struck a bittersweet chord in Damian’s heart and he closed his eyes as nostalgia overwhelmed him. How many times had he danced to this same record back when it was first popular? He didn’t feel even remotely like dancing tonight. Hadn’t felt like dancing in years.

Memories rose in his mind of a supple young body pressed tight against his own, warming his back, more often than not. He remembered arms holding him possessively close, sweet lips dropping kisses all along his cheek, his neck, his shoulder…

He remembered the feel of strong hands splayed on his hips, guiding him as they moved together, thrusting, grinding, taunting each other with graphic reminders of everything they’d be doing together later in bed.

Oh, how he longed to feel that way again, careless and wanton, desired, loved. Oh, how he longed to hear that sexy voice whispering in his ear.To feel those muscular arms encircling his waist or his neck, or wrapped around his shoulders.To see that smile, hear that laugh, just one more time.
Knowing those wishes would never come true, that those days of joy and innocence were lost to him, gone for good, never to return, did nothing to improve his mood.

Folding his arms across his chest, he surreptitiously touched the small gold rings with which his nipples had been pierced. The rings had been Paul’s originally, a final gift of sorts. Since he was Vampire, the pain had been mild and fleeting. The tiny wounds had healed almost instantly and had done nothing to ease the heavy sense of loss that weighed against his chest. Perhaps if the physical pain had been more intense, more prolonged, more on par with his emotional pain, it might have helped distract him from his inner turmoil. As it was, all he’d had to make do with was Conrad’s anger. While that was certainly painful to endure, it didn’t so much detract from Damian’s distress as add to it.

“Slaves were once made to wear such things,” Conrad had complained when he learned what Damian had done. “Is that your wish?To be thought of as a slave now? Is that how you want people to think of you? Is it how you want them to think of me?”

¡Ay, puñeta!” Damian had snarled, baring his teeth and shocking himself with his own boldness. “Déjate de leches. Tell me, who are these people about whom you’re so concerned? And what has any of it to do with you? Are the rings yours? Did you force me to wear them? No! So why should you have a say in this at all? Why do you even care what I do?” It was not his usual habit to disregard his sire’s wishes so recklessly or to respond so rudely to his complaints. No one spoke to Conrad in that fashion. No one without a pronounced deathwish, that is.

Is that what it’s come to?Damian wondered. Am I so weary of drawing breath I’m looking to end it all? Perhaps he was.

“Silence,” Conrad commanded. “You go too far. Have you forgotten who I am that you dare speak to me in this manner? Are you trying to make me lose my temper?”

Damian looked away. For all that a shudder ran through him when he contemplated the likely result of Conrad’s losing his temper, he still couldn’t honestly say no, that wasn’t exactly what he was trying to do. He needed something, didn’t he? Needed something drastic and extreme, something strong enough to pull him out of the abyss of grief he’d fallen into. Anything was preferable to what he was feeling now.

“Everything you do concerns me,” Conrad said after a moment, his voice lower but no less intense. “Don’t ever think otherwise. You’re a part of me, Damian, a part of my family, blood of my blood. Nothing will ever change that. And I will always have a say. Always.”

And that, Damian thought, was precisely where the problem lay. It was obvious that what Conrad objected to most of all was the idea of someone else’s “mark” being made visible on Damian’s body—a body Conrad still thought of as belonging to him, however little he wanted anything to do with it anymore.

Yes, the small bits of metal would last for centuries—another of Conrad’s complaints, and far more valid than the rest, in that at least it was true. They were as permanent a reminder of Paul as any Damian could think of, something he would carry with him wherever he went, something he could keep symbolically close to his heart for potentially the rest of his life. But what right had Conrad to rage about that either? None at all. Not when he himself had two living, breathing vampire children to remind him of his last lover. As a bequest, they had no equal. As a memorial, nothing else could come close. Of that Damian had no doubts whatsoever. They were his one saving grace, the only things that made his life worth living…

“A penny for your thoughts,” Conrad said, appearing at Damian’s elbow with two glasses of champagne in hand.

Damian started. As his mind returned to the present, the first thing that struck him was that the same song was playing—whether again or still he didn’t know. Memories washed over him once more and his heart twisted in grief. How was it the years could flash by, while the minutes lagged? Time was cruel, fickle, wearisome. How much more could he bear before it broke him?

“What’s wrong? Is one penny not enough? Perhaps you’re holding out for more?”

“What are you talking about?” Damian snapped. “More what?”

Conrad frowned. “Why must you scowl at me in that fashion? I did not invent the phrase and I’m quite sure I used it correctly. If you think I meant to imply your thoughts were not worth very much, I assure you you’re mistaken. I merely intended to inquire what was on your mind.”
Damian sighed. “Of course. I beg your pardon. Your use of the vernacular is exemplary. But I have nothing whatsoever on my mind—not even a penny’s worth.” He waved at the dance floor. “I was merely observing the crowd.”

“Ah.” A pleased smile curved Conrad’s lips. “Getting hungry, are we? Good. I’m pleased to hear your appetite’s returning.”

“No, I’m not particularly hungry.” There was only one taste Damian was craving, and as he had virtually no chance of satisfying that craving… “It all seems somewhat pointless, I’m afraid.”

Conrad’s smile disappeared. “Here,” he said, handing Damian one of the glasses. “Take this, at least. You look as though you could use something.”

“Thank you.” Damian took the glass and looked at it with distaste. Here was something else he’d felt no inclination for in well over a decade. “But I’m not, as they say, in the mood for it.”

“Hold on to it just the same,” Conrad said when Damian attempted to give him back the glass. “You’d do well to keep up appearances.” He studied him for a moment then asked, “Damian…you would tell me if there was anything you needed, wouldn’t you?”

“Of course,” Damian replied dutifully, lying again because what was the point of anything else? The truth wouldn’t do either of them a damn bit of good.

*

Everybody has secrets...but some have the ability to destroy them all.

Damian and Conrad's road has been a rocky one, and Damian is struggling to trust in the relationship he and Conrad now share -- what seems like a perfect love. After all, it's fallen apart before, why couldn't it do the same again?

Secrecy and conflict within the nest continues to grow, and Georgia's hold on the deadly secret she carries begins to erode. What she hides threatens their entire species...


Available at Amazon | Barnes & Noble | Entangled Publishing |Kobo 

Monday, January 15, 2018

Here Be News

Posted by: Veronica Scott
New Releases:

Just out: STORM CROSSED by DANI HARPER

A fae who doesn’t believe in love. 
A mortal who has no time for it. 
And a desire that defies everything they know.


Available as Kindle ebook, paperback, 
MP3-CD or audiobook on AMAZON
The latest stand-alone novel in Dani Harper’s Grim Series will delight old and new fans alike, transporting them to the ancient fae realm beneath the modern human world, where magic rules and menace abounds . . .


Heir to a noble fae house, Trahern is forced to watch helplessly as his twin brother is cruelly changed into a grim—a death dog—as punishment for falling in love with the wrong person. Trahern doesn’t believe love exists, but he will do anything to keep his brother alive—even join the Wild Hunt and ride the night skies of the human world.

Lissy Santiago-Callahan believes in love but has no time for it. She’s busy juggling her career as an academic and her home life as a single mom to a young son with Asperger’s. Her hectic life in sleepy Eastern Washington is made even more chaotic with the sudden arrival of a demanding fae and his unusual “dog.”

Mortal and immortal have nothing in common, and the attraction between Lissy and Trahern surprises them both. But when their desire places Lissy and her child in the path of a deadly faery feud, will the connection last, or will their separate worlds prove too great a divide?


Available as Kindle ebook, paperback, MP3-CD or audiobook on AMAZON

...............................................................

Other News:
The reviewers at the Whiskey With My Book blog did not one but TWO reviews of Veronica Scott's latest scifi romance AYDARR! 




**********************
Speaking of reviews, If anyone's looking for Kindle Unlimited books, HBM Author Jenny Schwartz reviews the ones she really enjoys over at this FB page https://www.facebook.com/AlwaysAnotherGreatBook/ and that includes #scifi (just search for that hashtag on the page).

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Bring It Back(list) Feature:
Veronica Scott highlighted her scifi romance thriller Danger in the Stars, which is currently on sale for $.99! Here's the link for the excerpt and buy links.

Saturday, January 13, 2018

Bring It Back(list) DANGER IN THE STARS Excerpt and Sale

Posted by: Veronica Scott
I'm highlighting one of my alien empath novels this week - Danger in the Stars, which is also on sale for $.99!

Here's the blurb:
Miriell, a powerful empathic priestess, has been kidnapped from her own primitive planet along with a number of her people, and sold to the evil Amarotu Combine, largest organized crime syndicate in the Sectors. When she and her handler are sent to use her power to commit an assassination, she must leave behind her own sister as hostage to ensure her compliance. Miriell cannot ask for aid without endangering herself and others.
Despite his best efforts, Combine enforcer Conor Stewart is entranced by Miriell, and helps her evade the worst of brutal treatment from the rest of the mob. But Conor must keep his distance, before the lovely empath learns that he has secrets of his own–secrets that could get them both killed.
The situation becomes dire when Conor and Miriell come to the attention of both the Combine overlords and the deadly Mawreg, aliens who threaten the Sectors. Can she save herself and the Mawreg’s next victims? And will Conor help her, or remain loyal to his evil bosses?
And the excerpt - through a fluke, Miriell, the captive empath, has a fleeting chance to escape the interstellar crime mob but things don;t go as she hopes:
When she reached the lower floors of the hotel, other people were in the tube, apparently prevented somehow from ascending to the penthouse but able to use the gravlift unhindered below a certain level. For the most part, the other guests ignored her, although excitement and terror made her clumsy, and she bumped into several. She exited at the lobby along with a group of excitedly chattering tourists, human and nonhuman sentients, all babbling about the temple ruins on their itinerary for the day’s trip. Scurrying in their wake through the crowded entrance hall, she hoped a casual observer would think her part of the group.

The outer doors opened at her approach, and a burst of adrenaline propelled her onto the sidewalk in a rush, jostling a couple who’d paused to check their AI’s. Murmuring an apology, she stepped away. Which way? What now? Frantic, she set off to the left toward what appeared to be a main street with heavy groundcar traffic.  The necklace bobbed around her neck as she ran. No one had ever told her what the range of the controller was but the more distance she put between herself and Jareck, the more hopeful she felt. And the police the Amarotu were always talking about with loathing would be able to remove it, wouldn’t they?

Reaching the thoroughfare, Miriell stopped in confusion. There were so many people and so many vehicles. How did one find these police?

“Excuse me—” She tried to stop one of the hurrying citizens, but he shrugged her off and shouldered past, as did the next person.

Changing tactics, Miriell approached a woman waiting with two small children to cross the street. “How do I find the police?”

“Now, darling, no need for involving the cops. The authorities have better things to do.” The deep voice swirled around her as Conor hauled her in, not ungently, and held her close in a parody of affectionate care.  His arms were like steel around her, his muscles unyielding. “I told you, the hotel will be able to take care of the problem.”

Pushing against him in frustration, Miriell swore at Conor in her own language. To be so close to escaping…

Mouth open, the woman was staring at them. As her children tugged at her hands, she said directly to Miriell, “Are you all right?”

“My wife’s fine,” Conor answered smoothly. “Aren’t you, honey? We just arrived today. She gets disoriented a bit by cryo sleep.  Waking dreams for the first day or so. You know how it is, I’m sure. I’ll get her back to the hotel, get some nice hot tea into her, and she’ll be herself again, good as ever. Thanks for your concern.”

Conor’s grip was now crushing her elbow. Miriell nodded, fighting back tears. “I’m sorry to have bothered you. I hope I didn’t frighten the children.”

Uncertain, hesitant, the woman scooped up her smaller child, tightened her grip on the other and sprinted across the street as the traffic paused in obedience to signals Miriell didn’t see.

“Not your smartest move,” Conor said in a low voice as he pulled Miriell away, retreating toward the hotel. “We have to get you back to the room before Opherra learns you escaped. Her punishments tend to be swift and harsh. Fortunately, she’s addicted to long baths, so we have a window of opportunity.”

“Please—” She knew there was no mercy to be had from an Amarotu soldier, but it was heartbreaking to come so close to escaping the nightmare her life had become. She sagged in his hold as her knees weakened. “I’m nothing to you. Let me go, I beg you.”

He shook his head, gripping her arm more tightly as he pulled her along. “You’re part of my boss’s operation. It’s my job to secure her assets and watch her back. Can’t have you picked up by the police. When I realized you were in the lobby by yourself, I called the room and told Jareck to let me handle it. He won’t trigger the necklace, don’t worry. But if you aren’t under his control by the time Opherra becomes aware of the breach, she’ll order your death, likely as not.”  He glanced at her. “Haven’t you ever heard where there’s life, there’s hope? My advice is live to fight another day.”

“Not for such as me. Hope fled a long time ago.” She shook her head, angrily brushing at her tears with her free hand. Belatedly, she tried to summon her power, to break free of this man and run, but she was too upset to find the necessary inner calm, and only flickers answered her call. Conor marched her through the lobby and into the gravlift, intimidating an elderly couple who tried to enter when he did. He took her aloft so rapidly that Miriell had a hard time breathing.
“By the way, for future reference, many of the local police are on the Amarotu payroll.” As they entered the hall and headed toward the room, he added in a low voice, “I’ll swear you didn’t talk to anyone. Otherwise, you’re on your own.”

Buy Links:
Amazon      iBooks    Kobo     Barnes & Noble
This book is one of several standalone titles in my alien empath series (but the only one on sale).


Friday, January 12, 2018

Paranormal romance – Why I don’t think this genre will ever die

Posted by: Angela Campbell
I was having a discussion with someone recently about the books I write.

Let me back up a second and explain something. By day I’m a mild-mannered journalist, surrounded by other writers in a newspaper newsroom, except now we don’t call it a newsroom. We call it an information center because the Internet reigns supreme in all the things, even newspapers. Here’s the thing about my experience with other journalists who write for a living. They’re a brutally judgmental bunch when it comes to “fiction” writers. Unless you write the type of literary fiction that gets considered for the Pulitzer Prize, you can expect to endure somewhat-veiled disgusted ewwwww looks when you tell them you write genre fiction. Followed by an upturned nose and quick removal from your company. It doesn't matter that a good selection of them probably write fiction themselves in their spare time. Appearances, you know?

So, there I was chatting with a colleague the other day about my books. Because of the above reaction, I typically don’t advertise that I also write fiction, but it’s a newsroom, so once you’ve told one person, everyone finds out eventually. Surprisingly, I didn’t suffer from the ewwww look followed by an awkward departure. Instead, she leaned closer and admitted, “Oh, I loved ‘Twilight. It’s my guilty pleasure. Is that the kind of paranormal romance you write?”

“Well, no,” I said, somewhat bemused. Only the people reading this can probably understand why I was bemused.

The general population always assumes paranormal romance means A) vampires or B) werewolves. But all of us here know much better than that.

I proceeded to explain my books — which I always describe as quirky paranormal romance mysteries involving psychic detectives with ghosts and pets thrown in for good measure.

“That sounds awesome!” she exclaimed.

Honestly, I did not know how to respond to this because I am so used to the pretentious response I normally get from fellow reporters. I might have blacked out. I think I glanced around, looking for hidden cameras. I’m honestly not sure.

This launched us into a conversation about all things paranormal romance, leading my colleague to say, “I remember reading something online a while back saying the paranormal romance genre was dead. I don’t believe that.”

“Why not?” I asked.

“Because it’s the best way to escape this crazy world we live in,” she said rather intuitively. “I can’t think of a better way to suspend my disbelief than to visit magical lands where supernatural things exist. Let’s face it. We all need to escape this crazy world we live in right now. I’ll take vampires, werewolves and ghosts over hurricanes, wildfires, and politicians any day.”

And that, my friends, is why I think paranormal romance will never die.

***
Angela Campbell is the author of the psychic detectives series from Harper Impulse. Learn more about her and her books at www.AngelaCampbellOnline.com

Thursday, January 11, 2018

Happy New Year!

Posted by: Ruth A Casie
The champagne is finished as well as the party food. I watched the ball drop at Times Square, via television, and welcomed in the new year with those I love. I’ve thought about the past year, what I accomplished and what has been left undone and even ignored. It’s time to look ahead and for me, plan what I want to accomplish for myself and my writing. It’s time for New Year’s resolutions.

New Year’s resolutions, we’ve all made them. While they’re most common in the Western Hemisphere, resolutions, the promise to yourself to do something nice for yourself or others, are made world-wide. Since the resolution implies a new beginning, what better time to make them than the beginning of the year.

Who started this ritual? At the start of each year, the ancient Babylonians promised their gods they would return borrowed items and pay their debts. Romans made promises to the god Janus, yes that Janus, for whom January is named. Janus is the god of beginnings and traditions. Knight in the medieval era took the “peacock vow” at the end of the Christmas season to re-affirm their commitment to chivalry. Christian prepared for the new year at the watchnight services by praying and making resolutions.

Other religious groups have parallels to this tradition: Jewish people reflect upon their wrongdoings during their High Holiday season and resolve to be better. The concept, regardless of your background, is to examine ways to improve yourself.

The ten most popular resolutions include:
  1. Spend more time with family and friends
  2. Get fit
  3. Lose weight
  4. Get organized
  5. Help other people
  6. Quit smoking
  7. Enjoy life more
  8. Quit drinking
  9. Get out of debt
  10. Learn something new

These are wonderful resolutions and the top five are definitely on my list but I also have my writing resolutions.
  1. I will write everyday
  2. I will write everyday even when I don’t feel like it
  3. I will write from the heart and dig deep so my readers will feel it
  4. I will read widely
  5. I will focus on writing rather than social media
  6. I will experiment with my writing style and voice
  7. I will create and stick to a timetable
  8. I will write two novels and two short stories this year
  9. I will learn how to market my work
  10. I will give something back to other writers – they have supported me in all I do and I will pay it forward


That is an aggressive list, but I can make it all happen. Do you make resolutions at the beginning of the year? If so, what are yours?

Have a wonderful happy and healthy year!

Tuesday, January 9, 2018

NEW RELEASE - Storm Crossed by Dani Harper

Posted by: Dani Harper, AUTHOR
A fae who doesn’t believe in love. 
A mortal who has no time for it. 
And a desire that defies everything they know.


Available as Kindle ebook, paperback, 
MP3-CD or audiobook on AMAZON
The latest stand-alone novel in Dani Harper’s Grim Series will delight old and new fans alike, transporting them to the ancient fae realm beneath the modern human world, where magic rules and menace abounds . . .


Heir to a noble fae house, Trahern is forced to watch helplessly as his twin brother is cruelly changed into a grim—a death dog—as punishment for falling in love with the wrong person. Trahern doesn’t believe love exists, but he will do anything to keep his brother alive—even join the Wild Hunt and ride the night skies of the human world.

Lissy Santiago-Callahan believes in love but has no time for it. She’s busy juggling her career as an academic and her home life as a single mom to a young son with Asperger’s. Her hectic life in sleepy Eastern Washington is made even more chaotic with the sudden arrival of a demanding fae and his unusual “dog.”

Mortal and immortal have nothing in common, and the attraction between Lissy and Trahern surprises them both. But when their desire places Lissy and her child in the path of a deadly faery feud, will the connection last, or will their separate worlds prove too great a divide?

* * * * *

EXCERPT from STORM CROSSED:

“What are you doing here?” demanded a new voice, a rich masculine voice, and every one of her friends fell silent.

Oh great, we’ve attracted a park ranger, thought Lissy as she turned to face this new issue. How are we going to explain

It was no ranger. The first thing her eyes took in was a heavy black cloak, thrown back to reveal strange leather clothing. Ornately tooled and trimmed with silver, it hugged a lean frame.

No, some instinct decided, not lean but lithe. Lithe like a big cat, all coiled agility and snake-strike muscle in a deceptively relaxed package. She was forced to tilt her head to see the strong jaw that underscored the man’s angular face—and the scar that ran diagonally across his throat.

Still, he could have been called handsome if it wasn’t for a strange otherness to his perfect features that was impossible to describe. Human, yet decidedly not. And no human she knew boasted hair like that. Pulled into a thick braid that fell halfway down his back, it was white in the way that snow was white—not a single shade, but many.

She had to remind herself to breathe. This was no lost cosplay enthusiast or a Lord of the Rings extra, but an actual living, breathing member of the faery race. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a faint thought protested that such a thing was completely impossible. It wasn’t very convincing, however, not with a flesh and blood dog the size of a goddamn Volkswagen already in front of her.

The man’s pale hair glowed in the fire’s light. A fistful of loose strands fell across his face, and beneath them his eyes were watchful, alert. A panther scanning for prey.

And he had found her.

The stranger’s unnerving gaze lingered for only a moment before apparently dismissing her. “What are you doing here?” he asked again, and Lissy realized he spoke to the enormous canine behind her.

“Wait a sec. This is your dog? Yours?” All the shock and fear of the past few minutes transmuted into anger. She’d been prepared to die defending her child, and this man, this being, was totally responsible! It was as if a switch inside had been thrown. Normal-everyday-college-science-professor Lissy was abruptly replaced with I-will-savagely-tear-apart-ten-man-eating-lions-to-save-my-kid Lissy. She stepped directly into his line of sight. “What the hell were you thinking, letting this animal run around loose like that?” she demanded.

He merely looked around her, as if she was a tree or a bush or a goddamn rock, and that just ramped up her fury. “You! I’m talking to you!” Without thought but backed by a considerable amount of adrenaline, she shoved him with all her strength. The element of surprise gave her an extra advantage, and the tall man stumbled back a step.

Now she had his full attention.

Most nature documentaries she’d watched advised against locking stares with wild animals, yet Lissy stood her ground and met the stranger’s riveting gaze boldly—despite her resentment at having to look up to do it. She all but bared her teeth as she stated her case: “You. Endangered. My. Son.”

“There was no danger to your offspring. The hound does not devour mortals.”

Was he mocking her with that imperious tone? “Yeah, well us mortals had no way of knowing that your monster dog doesn’t snack on humans. You have no right to frighten people like that!”

“I require no rights from you. I ride with the Hunt.”

Her gaze flicked to a faint ripple of movement at his side. The heavy cloak drew aside as if by its own volition, and the fae’s hand casually rested on the handle of a large coil of plaited leather at his hip. Ghostly tongues of bluish light flickered continuously over the heavy whip, here then gone in an instant only to reappear in a different spot, as if they were living things.

Lissy could hear some gasps from her cluster of friends, and some hurried words between Morgan and Brooke. Though she’d never encountered the Wild Hunt herself, she knew that had to be what the stranger referred to. As a mere human, she should be utterly terrified.


Instead, she couldn’t care less if he was a unicorn. “Well, I require a goddamn apology from you, Mister,” she heard herself say, and folded her arms to wait.

>>>>><<<<<

STORM CROSSED
is available in Kindle ebook, paperback, MP3-CD and audiobook at 
https://www.amazon.com/Storm-Crossed-Grim-Book-4-ebook/dp/B073TTTGZD



Legend, lore, love, and magic...
Other books in The Grim Series by Dani Harper


STORM WARRIOR, STORM BOUND, and STORM WARNED
Note: Every book in this series is designed to stand alone.
It's fun to read them in order, but you won't get lost if you don't!

See ALL my novels on my Amazon Author Page
or go to my website at https://daniharper.com/

>>>>><<<<<

Giveaway: Win Signed Books from Joely Sue Burkhart

Posted by: Joely Sue Burkhart

I don't think I'll ever get tired of opening up a box of my books!  This one contains a bunch of QUEEN TAKES KNIGHTS and QUEEN TAKES KING. If you'd like to win signed copies of both, comment on this post with any new habits you've implemented this year and how well that's going. I'll ship internationally!


A lost virgin vampire queen.
Two vampire knights sworn to protect her.
It’s about to get very hot… and bloody…
Ever since her mother was murdered by monsters five years ago, Shara Isador has been on the run. Alone, scared, and exhausted, she’s finally cornered in Eureka Springs, Arkansas. Out of hope with nowhere else to turn, she’s ready to end it all when two men come to her rescue.
They say she’s a lost queen descended from Isis, and they’re her Blood, vampire knights sworn to protect her. It all seems like a crazy nightmare, until the alpha offers his blood. Then she realizes she’s never wanted anything more. Except maybe his body… and his friend’s, too.
But they’re not the only ones searching for a lost queen. Shara must learn how to wield her new powers quickly and conquer her fears if she intends to keep them all alive.
How many Blood will come to the vampire queen’s call… and will they be able to protect her from the king?
For the first time in her adult life, Shara has plenty of money thanks to the Isador legacy–and she’s not alone. Daire and Rik are devoted lovers, but they know other Blood are coming. Blood who may challenge Rik for the coveted alpha spot at her back.
As her power grows, so does her hunger. But without fangs, she fears she’ll never be the queen her Blood expect. More Blood means power struggles and complications, and she has no idea how to keep everyone happy. Worse, her dreams are quickly becoming something to fear.
Moving to establish her permanent nest, she can’t stop dreaming of the king. A massive monster. Chained in darkness. Lost to madness. He roars with fury in her dreams, demanding his release.
But is he the key to unraveling her own mysterious past–or the most dangerous threat of all?
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