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War of the Sea - KickstarterOlympian WarsBook OneDana Claire
Genre: Fantasy RomancePublisher: Chamberlain Publishing HouseISBN: 9798987263563ASIN: B0BLGH16G6Number of pages: 270Word Count: 80,000Cover Artist: Brush Media Group
Tagline: A bargain. A brigand. A battle for the sea.
Book Description:
His powers could save the ocean. Her vendetta could sink a kingdom.
Captain Elouise Farrington, the youngest pirate on the Caviar Sea, seeks revenge on her father’s killer. But when her oddly hypnotic foe proposes a pact to kill the Siren Queen and end the War of the Sea’s bloodshed, she must make a choice. Put aside her long-brewing retribution or act the underhanded pirate and use the alliance to claim the life of the man who destroyed her family?
Captain Rylander Bordeaux, the revered royal navy captain of the Isle of Cava, has one mission—kill the Siren Queen and end the War of the Sea. The ocean is the only place Rylander calls home, but to bring peace to his beloved waves, he must defeat his past so he can reshape the future. His greatest hope is Captain Elouise, who calls to him like no siren song ever has. Too bad she’s almost as bloodthirsty as the fanged heart-eaters themselves. She promises to lend her all-female crew to his war on the sirens, but can he trust a brigand—especially one who wants him dead—to uphold her end of the bargain? Or will she be his undoing?

www.WaroftheSea.com

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 Excerpt:

Our mouths met onceagain, hungry and desperate, as I lifted her into my arms. Her chemise rose andbunched in between us. My palms cupped her exposed thighs, urging them toencircle my waist. I walked us backward to the bed, never breaking our kiss,and slowly lowered her down, careful to bear my weight against my forearm. Isavored the softness of her lips, the warmth of her breath mingling with mine,as her fingers wove into my hair. Pleasure and pain radiated through my scalpas she pulled the ends with her iron grip, her moans urging me on. With my freehand, I explored her, tracing the lines of her neck, the softness of herbreasts. Her body arched in response, a silent plea for more.

I continued myjourney, my hand tracing the curve of her hip, slipping beneath her knee, andwrapping her leg around me once more. The connection between us grew stronger,an unspoken understanding that we were meant to be entwined, a meeting ofsouls. And then, with a surge of anticipation, I pressed into her, feeling herheat and the electric pulse of our bodies against one another.

She pulled back, hereyes locking onto mine, reflecting a hunger and longing that mirrored my own. Amischievous smile played upon her lips as her fingers toyed with the button onmy trousers. But before she undid it, I heard a noise. Footsteps.

“It’s probably a goodidea to tell you both I’m in the room.” Smitter’s voice sounded somewherebehind me, way too close to the bed, to us.

I jumped backward,lost my balance, and stumbled to the floor. My rear landed hard. Lou swathedherself in a wad of sheets.

“I had hoped you’dcome up for air, but there’s really no good way to interrupt.” He waved inbetween us.

“I’m going to killyou,” I growled from the floor. Out of all the times my uncle had popped in andout of a room, this had to be the most invasive and humiliating.

“Why would you …? Ican’t— Don’t you ever do that again,” Lou shouted, horrified. Her hands balledaround the sheets. Flushed like a sunburned noble, she volleyed her gazebetween me, half clothed on the floor, and Smitter. Her knotted hair stuck upon top of her head.

“Yes, I realize it’snot great timing, but the two of you need your rest. We drop anchor tomorrow onthe perimeter of Anthemusa. The men have already been moved to the soundproofrooms. And we need to strategize how you’ll slay the Siren Queen, now that ourfirst plan is no longer viable.” Smitter’s concerned brown eyes found mine.“Also, your aunt said this isn’t the right time for”—he swirled a finger in ourgeneral direction—“this.”

Lou’s browscontorted. “What? Who is your aunt?” She gaped at me.

I waved Lou off. Aunt Artemis, the goddess ofchildbirth, would know when Lou should abstain, but I wasn’t about to have thatconversation. I bent my knees, resting my elbows on my thighs, and rubbed mytemples. My family had truly outdone themselves. Not a single boundary nor aclue as to how their incessant involvement could be a nuisance.

About the Author:
DANA CLAIRE is an award-winning author whose stories explore identity, fate, and destiny in the crossroads of romance and adventure. 
Her love of romantic tension and the supernatural effortlessly translates into spine-tingling action and unforgettable characters. 
She lives in Los Angeles, CA with her adoring husband living her dreams: writing books, telling stories, and changing the world, one reader at a time. 
Website: https://danaclairebooks.com/  
Newsletter: https://bit.ly/3rDRy05 
Shop: https://shopgiftsforbooklovers.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/danaclairebooks
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/authordanaclaire/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DanaClaireBooks/ 
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/dana-claire
TikTok: https://www.tiktok.com/@authordanaclaire
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Dana-Claire/e/B08P6PQ8LJ
GoodReads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/20913760.Dana_Claire 



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Outcast Artist in Bretagne WWII Heartbreak and Forbidden LoveDiane Scott Lewis
Genre: Historical Romance Publisher: BWL publishing, inc.Date of Publication: May 1, 2023ISBN-10: ‎0228625505ISBN-13: ‎978-0228625506ASIN: B0C24NLLBKNumber of pages: 370Word Count: 98,000Cover Artist: Michelle Lee
Tagline:  Can a damaged Englishwoman find love with her worst enemy, or will the brutality of war rip them apart? Is she a spy? Will he retaliate against Hitler? A dangerous love affair.
Book Description:  
Unwed and pregnant, Norah Cooper flees England to hide with her cousin in Brittany just before Germany’s 1940 invasion of France. After her baby is stillborn, she's trapped under the Occupation as war expands across Europe. Norah grieves and consoles herself by sketching wildlife. When she’s caught too near the coast, she comes under scrutiny of the German commandant, Major August von Gottlieb.
August loathes what Hitler is doing to his country and France but is duty-bound to control the people in his jurisdiction. The lively young Englishwoman piques his interest. Is she a spy? He questions her and asks her to sketch his portrait so he might uncover the truth.
Soon, their relationship evolves into a passion neither of them can deny. She endures taunts from the villagers. His superiors warn him of not being harsh enough—he could be transferred or worse. He plans to sabotage a major war machine of the Reich, while she secretly helps the Resistance. Both acts are fraught with danger while kept secret from one another. Will their love ruin her and end in heartbreak? Or will they overcome the odds and survive the surging threats on all sides?
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EXCERPTONE

August’s offer of marriage sent a tremor through her. Couldthat ever be possible? Did they have a future? Or would the war destroy them?

So many problems to consider. Norah traced a finger over theslight cleft in his chin and his lower lip. The lips that had given her so muchdelight. The gaze she once thought arrogant now adored her, assuring her asbest he could.

She smiled at his confidence. The memory of their union sentwarmth throughout her body. She brimmed with love, though the danger lurkedbeneath the surface.

He sat up and smoothed down his hair. “Let’s dress and getoff this floor.”

Sitting, she pulled her clothes on. August finished dressing,stood, and offered his hand.

Once on her feet, she picked up a cushion and so did he.They fitted them back in the chairs.

She ran her fingers through her hair, then retied the bow onher blouse. Another concern surged up. “When can you contemplate retirementfrom the army?”

“The earliest would be next year. I want my son graduatedfrom school, then sent off to college.” He brushed off his trousers. His gazemet hers. “A college in Switzerland being preferable.”

“You want him safe.” Had August been making plans all alongto keep his son out of Hitler’s claws? Norah wanted August out of the madman’sclutches, too.

“Yes, safe. But I have important business to take care ofhere before any thoughts of retirement.” He tucked in his shirt. “SomethingI’ve recently realized needs to be done.”

“What is it?” She rubbed low on her back.

“I’ll tell you when the reason for it is closer.” He tuggedon his tunic, fastening his high collar where the Iron Cross hung.

She glanced away from the reminder of what he represented.“You can’t tell me anything? I want you to confide in me.”

He pulled her close and kissed her, thoroughly. “I’llconfide when I can. Don’t worry, you will approve.”

“Is it dangerous for you?” She gasped after the kiss and nowgrew apprehensive about this new information. The idea of the guarded port stuckin her mind for some reason.

He opened the door and peered out. “I’ll give you thedetails later, I promise.”

“Not too much later, please.” She cocked her head andclasped his arm. “I hope it’s something to slow this war. We must all make thateffort.”

He pressed on her fingers, his smile sweet, then gesturedfor her to exit. “Goodbye for now, meine liebe. We’ll meet again as soon as itcan be arranged. I’ll discreetly leave notes for you in the terracotta pot ofgeraniums in front of your cottage.”

“Yes, very soon. But that reminds me.” She pulled a paperfrom her pocket and handed it to him. “The words for my telegram.”

“I will take care of this tomorrow morning.” August slippedthe paper into his tunic pocket. His smile now looked sad. “Don’t forget, Ihave limited power out here. There are constraints.”

“I understand. I’ll check the pot daily. Be careful inwhatever you plan.” Stepping out into the warm air, her mind swirled with fearfor him, herself, and the need for more of what they’d just shared.

“I love you,” they both whispered, gazes intense.

Norah’s step quickened away from the summerhouse. She’dturned into the worst of wanton women, a fraternizer. The English called it aJerry-bag. But her love for him gripped her, staggering her as she hurriedaround bushes and under trees. The green scents washed away the sweat oflovemaking.

She chewed the inside of her cheek. How muchtime would they have if Hitler clamped down harder here, in Brittany—and acrossthe channel? She could lose August, lose her country. 

About the Author:
Diane Parkinson (Diane Scott Lewis) grew up in the San Francisco Bay Area, joined the Navy at nineteen, married in Greece and raised two sons all over the world, including Puerto Rico and Guam. 
A member of the Historical Novel Society, she wrote book reviews for the Historical Novels Review. Diane worked from 2007 to 2010 as an on-line historical editor. Writing since the age of five, she had her debut novel published in 2010, a story that takes place during the French Revolution. She’s had several historical and historical-romance novels published between 2010 and 2021. 
Her newest novel, a WWII romantic suspense, released in May. A fan of graphic arts, she’s designed brochures and book covers. She also enjoys traveling and camping. Her extensive traveling inspired her love of history.Diane lives with her husband and dachshund in western Pennsylvania.
For more on her books visit her blog: https://dianescottlewisauthor.blogspot.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/DSLewisHF 
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/dhparkin/ 
Bookbub:  https://www.bookbub.com/authors/diane-scott-lewis
Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/Diane-Scott-Lewis-277223019312535/ 
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/3999998.Diane_Scott_Lewis 
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Diane-Scott-Lewis/author/B003NTK2GM


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The Siphoning The Redemption SeriesBook OneD.T. Stubblefield
Genre: Fantasy Publisher: D.T. Stubblefield Date of Publication: September 4, 2023ISBN: 8987848906 ASIN: B0C9P3J5FMNumber of pages: 385Word Count: approx. 106,000Cover Artist: BeauteBook 
Tagline: Warring Worlds Align Against an Ancient Evil
Book Description: 
The Goddess is good. The Goddess is pure.
Assassin Drakon Deathmark has heard those mantras his entire life. It’s not until he comes face-to-face with her that he realizes she’s more demon than deity.
Drakon conceals his innate power while yearning for the magic derived from the goddess’s blessing, which is reserved for nobility.
When a treacherous mission goes awry, he uncovers a prophecy pitting him against an ancient evil intent on vengeance. Drakon and his allies must defeat a demon masquerading as a goddess, her growing Army, and unravel millennia of deceit before she lays waste to their world.
For Drakon, the path to survival means overcoming past trauma and possibly relinquishing the power he has worked so hard to acquire.
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Excerpt 

Drakon heaved himself through the open third-storywindow. His black cloak flowed about him, concealing him in shadow. His musclesquivered from the rapid ascent. Below, the clamp of boots and a mutteredconversation passed beneath the window and then receded.

Another close call.

This made the fourth such encounter of the night. Helived by a rule: two close calls and he would abort a mission. Each time heignored this simple rule, something untoward happened. His survival instinctsscreamed for him to turn back and return another night but time was short, andhe was dangerously close to missing his deadline. The manor grounds were an antcolony of activity, and it took him longer than expected to make it this far.Seconds dripped by, increasing his chances of being discovered.

Discovery meant death.

Silently, he settled into the wooden floorboards. Nogroan of protest announced his entry. Crouching, Drakon pulled the cowl of hiscloak lower and drifted wraith-like into the chamber. A breeze swept inward. Thecool, crisp air did nothing to purify the overwhelming stench of incensehanging in the bedchamber.

A light orb floated overhead, casting the chamber in awarm yellow glow, elongating the shadows in which Drakon hid. Art canvases ofall sizes hung on the stone walls, ornate furniture adorned every square inch,and a massive four-poster bed overflowing with furs stood at the chamber’scenter.

Drakon curled his lip in disdain. The warden’s blatantshow of wealth was in contrast to the poverty of the people he lorded over.Another warden charged with the well-being of commoners lining his pockets fromthe people’s labor. He hadn’t expected much humility from a noble, and evenless from a mage such as the Jenna City Warden.

Drakon’s orders from the king were clear. The wardenwas to appear to have died of natural causes. Drakon wasn’t privy to thetransgression the man committed to garner himself a spot on the king’s killlist. The reason was inconsequential. He didn’t care, nor did he mete outjudgments. The Royal Council dealt with such things. He was but the gnarledhand of death employed to dole out the punishment. Drakon recalled the deathand poverty he witnessed while traversing the Commoner District of the city andgrimaced. He would enjoy killing this warden.
The bedchamber was empty, as Drakon knew it would be. He committed his mark’sroutine to memory. The warden was middle-aged, but his habit of nightlydrinking and debauchery was legendary throughout the Kingdom of Somorrah.

Drakon’s gaze searched the chamber for the warden’sfavorite vice. There. A pitcher and glass sat on a table next to the bed;remnants of red wine stained the bottom of the glass. Drakon removed a vialfrom his cloak. A colorless, odorless liquid sloshed within its clear container.He would add one drop into the glass, and the deed would be done. He would sendword of the mission’s completion to the king. Afterward, he might take anoverdue leave of absence.

He moved toward the table. Laughter and shufflingfootsteps from outside the closed door froze him halfway across the chamber.The doorknob turned, and the door banged open. Drakon threw himself into theshadows of a wardrobe. Sounds of merriment drifted into the room and then weremuted as the door snicked shut.

The warden was early. Drakon hadn’t expected him untilnearer to dawn. He cursed inwardly. He couldn’t wait in the shadows until theman passed out. The king made his instructions all too clear. The warden was todie before sunrise. Drakon gritted his teeth. He would have to improvise. Hehated improvising. It reduced his chances of an undetected escape, but whatother choice was there?

He pocketed the vial and pressed against the wardrobe.The warden, red-faced and inebriated, stumbled on unsteady legs toward the bed,hauling a struggling woman behind him. He was small and slender, manual laborhaving never sculpted the muscles of his body. Like all wardens, he was also amagical mage. The man’s diminutive physique was no indication of his power.

Alabaster skin inked with tattoos peeked from thewarden’s robes, testaments of his magical aptitude. Only his face was unmarred.Each tattoo was a rune etched to guard the warden against the harmful effectsof drawing the goddess’s power. Such power came with a price, and the wardensprotected themselves with the tattoos.

The warden’s hair was a dirty blond, and his skin waspale but not an unearthly translucent. A mage’s hair, eyes, and skin lightenedwith their growth in magic. This mage wasn’t as strong as the others Drakon killed.His tongue prodded a void a molar once occupied as a reminder of past battlesagainst magical enemies. Thank the goddess for small mercies.

A sob drew his attention to the woman the wardendragged in tow. She was waif-like. Oily black hair concealed her face, and herchestnut skin identified her as a commoner. Her threadbare dress was torn atthe neck and thin enough to see through. She was probably a slave. He resignedhimself to the possibility of collateral. From the look of her, death would be preferableto her current lot in life. He could give her that escape, at least.

The warden yanked the woman forward. She struggled allthe more, whimpering and pleading for release. The warden cursed and slappedher hard enough to snap her head back. The blow whipped her face toward Drakonand freed it from its curtain of dirty hair.

Drakon’s eyes flared. A face smooth with youth wasdecorated with black and blue bruises and a split lip. Terror-filled eyesglistened with tears and, more disturbing, resignation. This was no woman as heinitially believed. It was a young girl.

The warden slapped the girl again. The crackricocheted off the walls, and she slumped dazed into the warden’s arms. Havingsubdued her struggles, the man dragged her to the bed and flung her across it.She curled into a tight ball and whimpered. The warden grabbed her thin ankleand yanked her toward the edge of the bed.

“Quit your yammering!” He climbed atop her, claspingher wrists in one hand. “You should be honored that I would bring a smut likeyou to my bed!”

Blood pounded in Drakon’s ears. Unbidden, darkmemories rushed to the surface of his mind.

A slave child. Powerless. Drakon blinked and shook hishead, trying to dislodge the memory.

Nausea rolled through him. His blood heated in hisveins.

Hay scratching tender skin.

Powerless.

With effort, he forced the memories back, slamming thedoor on their mental prison. Yet, the rage left in their wake had Drakondarting silently from the shadows and toward the warden, who tore at the girl’sclothing, before he realized he was moving.

The warden stiffened with awareness, some part of hisinebriated psyche realizing they were not alone.

Too late. Drakon’s blade slipped in the hollow at thebase of the man’s skull. The body jerked. Drakon twisted, severing the spine,and yanked the dagger free. The body slumped forward.

Blood gushed from the wound, coating the bed and thestartled girl beneath. He pushed the body aside and freed her.

Wide, oddly ancient eyes––much too knowing for achild—peered back at him from a tear-streaked face mottled with bruises. Shesucked in a deep breath, a preamble to a scream. His hand clamped over hermouth.

“Do. Not. Scream. I won’t harm you, but you willremain silent.” He stared into her shining, unblinking eyes.

“Nod if you understand.”

She nodded slowly, and he peeled his hand away, readyto place it back. She didn’t scream but sat up and eyed him with caution. Hegrabbed an unsoiled coverlet from the bed and tossed it at her.

“Cover yourself and get out of here. Tell no one ofwhat you’ve seen.”

Even as he uttered the command, he knew he was being afool. The only way to ensure her silence was to kill her, but he couldn’t bringhimself to kill an innocent. No doubt, her short life was filled withatrocities for which this night was but a culmination. Her petite frametrembled beneath the coverlet.

No. Drakon was not so far gone that he would kill aslave girl. His soul was black and withered, but he had not delivered it to thepits of Targarius. Not yet.

The girl’s throat worked. “Th–thank you.” Her voicewas an unsteady whisper in the quiet chamber.

He cleared his throat. Her thanks unsettled him forreasons he didn’t want to acknowledge. He turned, focusing on the warden, andgrimaced at the mess he had made. Blood soaked the bed beneath the corpse andpooled on the floor. A frozen mask of surprise rested on the man’s face. Hispale-blue eyes locked on the nothingness of death. Already pale skin drained ofits color as blood leaked from the body.

Drakon took in the tattooed runes on the warden’sskin. All that power and useless against a simple dagger. In the mage’sassurance in his magical superiority, he never suspected or spelled againstnonmagical attacks. It was the way of nobles—arrogance above intellect.

Drakon sighed. The man’s death would never pass fornatural causes. His moment of untethered emotion destroyed weeks of planning.The outburst he exhibited was out of character. His lapse of control annoyedhim, but he couldn’t dwell on it. He had to plan his next steps, or they wouldbe his last.

There was only one recourse left to him. He wouldremove himself from the city before the warden’s body was discovered. Butbefore he fled, he would retrieve the other reason he was eager for thismission. He bent over the body, rummaging through the folds of the robes.

“Where is it?”

He rolled the corpse on its stomach and patted itdown. He cursed. Nothing.

The warden always carried an object of power when hevisited Sura City. Indeed, this mission excited Drakon for this reason. Desireto own such an object clouded his logic. In hindsight, it went to reason thewarden would travel to court with additional protection. Nobles and commonersalike distrusted the king and the royal mage. The Jenna Warden would’ve been afool not to travel with safeguards. However, the man wouldn’t carry such itemsin his dwelling.

He should have understood this sooner.

Drakon stood with a grunt of frustration, wiped hisblade on his leathers, and returned it to its sheath. If the mission wentaccording to plan, he would’ve had time to search the chamber. As it were, hewould be leaving without his prize.

He spared a glance at the girl. Shock had yet torelease her from its grasp. If the warden’s guards found her, they wouldsacrifice her in Drakon’s stead. He hoped she didn’t waste his gift of mercy.She would live or die by her action or inaction alone.

He sprinted to the window and glanced out. No sentriesstood guard or moved across the grounds. That was good, and no one would enterthe warden’s chamber until the maid arrived for the morning cleaning. Drakonwould be long gone by then. As if summoned by the thought, a creak sounded fromthe door.

“Rainore? What the devil is taking so long? Finishwith the—”

A slender man, clad in nothing more than skin and hismage tattoos, stopped mid-stride into the room. His pale-blue eyes locked onDrakon’s cloaked figure, widened, and then flicked to the body cradled in acrimson stain on the bed.

He screamed.

About the Author: 
D.T. Stubblefield was born and raised in a rural town in South Carolina. After reading Skeleton Crew by Stephen King, she was certain she would grow up to be an amazing writer. Those plans were placed on hold when she decided to study mass communications and not creative writing in college. After graduating, much to the disappointment of her seven-year-old self, D.T. did not become a writer or journalist, instead, she entered the world of the federal government as an editor and eventually became a manager.
Craving an outlet from the pressures of her job, D.T. did what she always did during stressful periods: she wrote. She wrote the beginnings of many novels (some of which were so bad they will never see the light of day!). She wrote during her lunch breaks, in the middle of the night, and on the weekends.
Until one day, D.T. wrote a story she fell in love with. A story that she couldn’t wait to share with the world. She wrote a story set in a kingdom trapped within a magical barrier, terrorized by monsters, and where an assassin was foretold to unite warring peoples and overthrow a demonic goddess. 
The premise of The Siphoning was born six years ago while D.T. sat in evening traffic on I-495, and now she is ready to share it with the world.
Website: https://dtstubblefield.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/DT_Stubblefield
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/dt.stubblefield/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100092550623825
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8093810.D_T_Stubblefield


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The Girl Who Knew DeathSpider Green Mystery Thriller Series  Book FourNorm Harris
Genre: Paranormal Suspense Thriller Publisher: The Wild Rose PressDate of Publication: May 2022ISBN: 1509242317ASIN: B0BJXHH46QCover Artist: Diana Carlile
Tagline: Fast-paced action, unpredictable twists, and extraordinary encounters.
Book Description:
Katrinka Lavrova, who was rescued by Spider Green and is her adopted daughter, must face her destiny and is just coming of age into her role as a princess when she is thrown into an Egyptian prison. Katrinka manages to escape with the help of young Latina American Embassy Guard, Marine Corporal Lopez, forcing Spider to navigate stormy international waters again to save her.
Katrinka finds herself in flight, she and Spider also attract the attention of the demon Mazikim, who introduces further confrontations and impossible dilemmas as the two women struggle towards freedom and an elusive truth that will change their lives and relationship yet again.
As Kat steps into her roles as an adopted daughter, a Russian military agent, a future Russian princess, and an uncommon friend of Azrael, the Angel of Death, readers receive a powerful story that weaves elements of paranormal encounters into the center of the international intrigue that powers the plot.
Like its predecessors, The Girl Who Knew Death excels in the fast-paced action, unpredictable twists, and injections of extraordinary encounters that are the trademark of author Norm Harris's special brand of female-driven thrillers.
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About the Author: 
With writing and publishing in his veins, Norm created a fictional Spider Green Mystery Thriller Series of print and audio-books. Norm Harris' first novel debuted on an Amazon bestseller list in 2002. It was a one-and-done, but now he's back with a plan to publish the mystery/thriller of days gone by.
Except for time spent in military service, he is a second-generation Seattleite (that's what they call those who dwell in the shadow of Mt. Rainier), with his legal beagle son, K-K, and five giant tropical fish. Norm's stories spring from his memories of people who he has met and the places he has visited as he traveled the world. Diversity, inclusion, and equality are foremost in each story. "Fay is an admirable, tough, brilliant protagonist." said one reviewer. Said another, "Lt Commander Faydra Green from the JAG Corps is a “take no prisoners” protagonist..."
Thank you for reading and if you enjoyed the stories please consider leaving a review!
https://www.facebook.com/norm.harris.3386 

 

Henbane and HalibutThe Seaglass Cove Mysteries Book 1E. R. Blackwell and Cass Blackwell
Genre: Cozy MysteryDate of Publication: July 3, 2023Number of pages: 91Word Count: 28,471Cover Artist: Kimi Schaller
Tagline: Magic in every corner
Experience the captivating world of Wyllow Kincade with the first book of The Seaglass Cove Mysteries.
When Wyllow Kincaid returns to her quaint hometown with her daughter little does she know that their lives are about to take a thrilling turn. During a routine dog walk, Wyllow stumbles onto a horrifying discovery —a lifeless body, clutching a box from her mother's renowned herb farm.
Soon, chaos ensues as Wyllow's mother finds herself unjustly accused and detained. Determined to prove her mother's innocence, Wyllow embarks on an intricate quest to unravel the truth. As she delves deeper into the investigation, the charming town's residents become potential suspects, leaving Wyllow uncertain about whom to trust. Amidst the twists and turns, an unexpected reunion with an old friend adds a touch of nostalgia to her journey, while an unsettling sense of being observed keeps her on edge.
Strange incidents begin to occur, all pointing towards a sinister presence determined to divert attention from the actual perpetrator. Wyllow must navigate this treacherous path, unraveling secrets and untangling a web of deception to uncover the true identity of the killer.

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About the Authors:
E. R. Blackwell is from a small town south of Cleveland, Ohio. She lives with Cass Blackwell, her young granddaughter, and Cass’s fiancé. 
They have three cats: Cougar, Crissy, and Houdini.She loves her family more than anything. 
E. R. reads a lot of cozy mysteries, bird watches, and loves to bake with her granddaughter. She loves nighttime and the moon. When E. R. was young she wrote stories.
Cass Blackwell lives for her beautiful daughter. She loves to make soaps, lotions, and candles and will be opening an online shop in the near future. 
She loves family time. She also loves reading bedtime stories to her daughter every night. 

 

Spectral Paranormal InvestigationsGhost Guardians Book TwoS. Peters-Davis
Genre: Paranormal Suspense Romance Thriller, Paranormal Romance, New Adult, Suspense-MysteryPublisher: BWL Publishing, Inc.   Date of Publication: July 2023ISBN 9780228626442  Word Count: 54,000Cover Artist: Pandora Designs
SPI (Spectral Paranormal Investigations) The team’s mission: Rescue ALL spirits left behind, even the evil ones. Murder, Mystery, and Mayhen…in ghost form
Book Description:  Bri Lancaster and Kyle Benton (SPI ghost detectives) investigate an 1880s rundown, haunted mansion in the middle of nowhere during one of the harshest winters remembered.
The SPI team uncovers that the evil entity bound to the mansion has trapped innocent spirits into an endless loop of abuse, sorrow, and the ultimate…death. In order to rescue the captives, the team discovers they must first defeat the crazed, abusive ghost.
But what happens when SPI team member, Kyle, goes comatose and the only way to rescue him is to extract the horrifying evil entity from Kyle’s body?

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Excerpt

Bri’spoint of view

“We’re fine but a bit rattled.” Kyle glanced at me andthen back at his father. “Sorry for the late visit, but I wanted you to hearwhat happened firsthand. Let’s sit at the kitchen table.” Kyle grabbed my handand pulled me to a chair.

Miles shook his head as he pulled off his outside gearand settled into a chair across from Kyle and me. “I had no idea the weatherwould turn into a snowstorm, more like a blizzard. It took some time for you toget back here, didn’t it?” Without waiting for an answer, he continued,

“Sorry about that. Glad you made it without incident.”

“Well, about that…” Kyle nodded toward me. “Tell Dadeverything.”

I did, not leaving out the woman in the window or thescary-looking man in the mansion doorway, or how the appearance of the buildingwent back in time to brand new. Nor did I skip describing the sign I saw thatdisappeared or the distance we’d driven when we saw the last two women and howsomething must be keeping them stuck there.

“Wow, I had no idea that kind of history was attachedto the old mansion. It makes me think of the bordello stories my grandparentsshared. Turned out more of a horror story.” Miles stared at me. “Did you opendoors to any of the rooms upstairs?”

“None. The vibe came across as pure evil.” A chillzipped up my spine like a sawblade, making me shiver, and my eyes slammed shut.Everything went dark.

Then suddenly, I popped back to the mansion, relivingeach moment there. Only this time, my trip ended with me standing in front ofthe black-eyed man at the door. His arms reached toward me. My paralyzed bodycouldn’t move as he grabbed my shoulders with stabbing force. I said, “I haveno fear,” repeating the mantra. His mouth stretched open, long and wide, andhis pointed teeth lengthened. The familiar stench coated my face, the same asmy earlier visit. Then I said, “I am filled with love and light; the Divine ismy shield.” Before I could repeat the mantra, his mouth closed, and he vanishedinto a cloud of black smoke.

Voices called my name, echoing inside my brain until Iforced my eyes open to Kyle’s handsome face. His warm hands released each sideof my head.

“What happened to you? It’s like you passed out in thechair, then after a bit, you’re repeating a mantra. Dad and I hollered yourname, but you couldn’t hear us.” Kyle studied my face. “You did pass out,didn’t you?”

“I’ve never experienced anything like what justhappened. I’m not sure how it happened, but I returned to the mansion and got agood picture of that man’s appearance. I believe his clothing dates back tothat of the 1885 plaque. That’s a starting point for research of when the placewas built and who owned it.” My heart beat like a mountain of drums in mychest. “Some horrific trauma must have happened to that man to make him sovile. He wanted to hurt me, maybe even kill me.”

About the Author: 
S. Peters-Davis writes multi-genre stories but loves penning a good page-turning suspense-thriller, especially when it’s a ghost story and a romance. Paranormal suspense-thriller romances are her favorites. When she’s not writing, editing, or reading, she’s hiking, RV’ing, fishing, playing with grandchildren and her dog, Sparky, or enjoying time with her favorite muse (her husband) in Southwest Michigan.
Twitter: https://twitter.com/spdavis788      
FB:  https://www.facebook.com/susan.petersdavis    
BWL Publishing Inc.: https://bookswelove.net/  
BWL Blog: https://bwlauthors.blogspot.com/
BWL Author Page: https://bookswelove.net/davis-s-peters/
LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/susan-davis-8660542/     





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Flash Paranormal Fiction: 13 StoriesD. P. Roseberry
Genre: Horror/Paranormal flashDate of Publication: July 2023 Number of pages: 65Word Count: approx. 12,000 words Cover Artist: D. P. Roseberry 
Tagline: Don’t worry. Sleep is over-rated …
Book Description:
This collection of flash fiction is strictly paranormal ... and creepy. 
Flash Paranormal Fiction will send your flesh crawling with ghosts, witches, aliens, cryptids, and creatures of  all kinds. 
These 13 Flash stories are for those readers (just like us) who love quick and fun ghostly gatherings! 
Still ... maybe you shouldn't read it at night...
But don't worry. Sleep is overrated... 

Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/HiMcUPPRyAc

Purchase at ParanormalFlash Fiction

Excerpt - Zombie Love

It wasa beautiful morning, just gorgeous. I was sitting back in my no-gravity loungechair holding a cup of hot coffee and sipping away the sunrise. The temperaturewas just right and the plants along the front screen of the porch seemed toreach toward the warm glow of the sun. This was a day that made all the otherdays’ worth dealing with. It whispered relaxation and creativity.

Theonly thing I couldn’t get my mind around on this glorious day was the zombiethat was trying to open the latch on the screen door. I’d been watching it fora good ten minutes or so, just as it was watching me drink my coffee. Myquestion: Where the hell had this thing come from? And why was it ruining myperfectly quiet morning?

Thisone I was looking at was none too bright. It could easily punch through thescreen, but instead, it fiddled with the sliding lock. I’d heard about thesethings. A bit short on brains. But then again, who knew? Maybe it thought I wasstupid for drinking coffee. I’d thought that one or two times myself.

Justthen I heard a voice. “Hey man, what’s that you got there trying to get intoyour house?”

It wasmy neighbor, Monroe. We were pretty close on most days. “Gots me a zombie, methinks,” I replied after a nice long coffee swig.

Monroe,standing back from the door but still close enough to talk through the screen continued.“What’s ya gonna do when it figures out the door?” He yawned.

“Hmmm.Good point,” I said with a nod. “Guess I better go get the gun so I can takecare of business if I need to.”

Monroewas nodding as well. “Terrible way to spend this beautiful morning, though.Still, zombies are nothin’ to mess with. So I heard.”

“Maybewait a little while, though,” I said. “It’s too nice out to make things allblood and guts. We got time.”

“Ihear ya,” answered Monroe.

Thensuddenly, another voice erupted through the morning. “Outta the way, boys!”

Atthat point a woman and a teenage girl raised rifles and blew holes in thezombie’s head. The thing fell like a rock.

BothMonroe and I jumped back to keep from getting muck on our clothes. I’d had toroll out of my chair, and I spilled my coffee.

“Damwomen!” I yelled out. “Know just how to ruin a morning!”

About the Author:
Dinah Roseberry, or D. P. Roseberry, has been writing about the imagined world for many years. She dabbles in paranormal romantic intrigue (her most recent paranormal romance is Three Months to Change), sci fi, fantasy, horror, and many kinds of speculative fiction. With a special interest in UFOs, she is the founder of the UFO Management Group. 
Dinah is also a practicing certified hypnotist with her practice centering on past-life regression, alien abductions, and other paranormal topics. She reads the Tarot and varied oracles as well and finds that divination brings sharp interpretation to daily living and uses it as a method in her writing. Her latest Tarot decks are First Light Tarot and A Christmas Tarot: Ghosts of Past, Present, and Future. 
Writing Paranormal Flash is a guilty pleasure and she finds herself in the middle of these quick and ghosty stories more often than she likes to admit. Flash Paranormal Fiction is her first attempt at putting them from mind to media for you to read. For more information about other works and ongoing projects, visit www.roseberrybooks.com 
Website: www.paranormalflash.weebly.com 
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/dinah.roseberry
Twitter:  https://www.twitter.com/RoseberryBooks    
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/dinahroseberry
LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/DinahRoseberry   
GoodReads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1149149.Dinah_Roseberry


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Spectral Paranormal InvestigationsGhost Guardians Book TwoS. Peters-Davis
Genre: Paranormal Suspense Romance Thriller, Paranormal Romance, New Adult, Suspense-MysteryPublisher: BWL Publishing, Inc.   Date of Publication: July 2023ISBN 9780228626442  Word Count: 54,000Cover Artist: Pandora Designs
SPI (Spectral Paranormal Investigations) The team’s mission: Rescue ALL spirits left behind, even the evil ones. Murder, Mystery, and Mayhen…in ghost form
Book Description:  Bri Lancaster and Kyle Benton (SPI ghost detectives) investigate an 1880s rundown, haunted mansion in the middle of nowhere during one of the harshest winters remembered.
The SPI team uncovers that the evil entity bound to the mansion has trapped innocent spirits into an endless loop of abuse, sorrow, and the ultimate…death. In order to rescue the captives, the team discovers they must first defeat the crazed, abusive ghost.
But what happens when SPI team member, Kyle, goes comatose and the only way to rescue him is to extract the horrifying evil entity from Kyle’s body?

Amazon     Books2Read     BN     Kobo     Smashwords

About the Author: 
S. Peters-Davis writes multi-genre stories but loves penning a good page-turning suspense-thriller, especially when it’s a ghost story and a romance. Paranormal suspense-thriller romances are her favorites. When she’s not writing, editing, or reading, she’s hiking, RV’ing, fishing, playing with grandchildren and her dog, Sparky, or enjoying time with her favorite muse (her husband) in Southwest Michigan.
Twitter: https://twitter.com/spdavis788      
FB:  https://www.facebook.com/susan.petersdavis    
BWL Publishing Inc.: https://bookswelove.net/  
BWL Blog: https://bwlauthors.blogspot.com/
BWL Author Page: https://bookswelove.net/davis-s-peters/
LinkedIn: https://www.linkedin.com/in/susan-davis-8660542/     

 

The Demon’s FireBlood Coven SeriesBook 2 T. M. Smith
Genre: Paranormal RomancePublisher: Evernight PublishingDate of Publication: May 26, 2023ISBN: 978-0-3695-0823-2ASIN: B0C5S5RCS3Number of pages: 437Word Count: 117,584Cover Artist: Jay Aheer
Tagline: When fire meets ice, romance sizzles.
Book Description: 
He’s not her type at all…
The commander is a barbarian. Despite a sexy smile and hot body, nothing can smooth the brute’s ragged edges. Besides, demons need a daily dose of sex. Skyler Maxwell has no intention of becoming a food source.
She’s not his type at all…
The chief legal officer of the Alliance is a buttoned-up, prissy human with frost in her veins. But Kole is stuck playing tour guide for her while she’s on his realm. He was ordered to “play nice.”
Together, Skyler and Kole are fire and ice…
She has a bullseye on her back, and the animus demon is her best chance to stay out of the line of fire. Trapped in a hostile environment, they survive mystical monsters and treacherous attacks. Despite the perils and their differences, their romance ignites, proving fire and ice sizzle. 

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Excerpt

Kole sheathed hisblade, turned, and offered Skyler his hand. When she placed her pale, tremblingfingers in his palm, he drew her close to his body. She raised her chin to stareinto his fire-gold eyes.

Kole bent toward her,his lips drawing nearer. When his mouth brushed hers, rather than push himaway, she opened to him. Kole’s lips pressed hard against hers, his tonguethrusting inside, his exploration wild, hungry.

Skyler gasped,shocked by either the kiss or her response. Her knees weakened, her handsresting on Kole’s warm chest for support. Short bursts of electricity flowedinto her, eliciting soft moans as he pulled her tighter against him, his arousala hard prod at her belly.

When he withdrew, hemet her gaze with confusion. He cleared his throat.

“Choose, Chief Maxwell. Dermott or me?”

About the Author:
After retiring from my career as a teacher and principal, I settled in to write something more creative than lesson plans on split infinitives and inner-school memos on noise in the hallway. 
Vampires, demons, elves, mages, and other magical beings keep me awake at night with their tales of love and adventure. Taking great interest in their lives, I began a paranormal romance series with alpha males who aren't always nice and females who have no problem keeping them in line. The Firebrand is the first book in the Blood Coven Series.
Here are more orts, scraps, and fragments from my life. (Thank you, Virginia Wolf and Shakespeare.) I moved from sunny Las Vegas to the less-than-sunny Pacific Northwest. Here I have adventures with my daughter, son-in-law, and two granddaughters who also moved to the area. I also enjoy my membership at Bainbridge Artisan Resource Network (BARN), a local organization that supports the arts and offers classes and events in eleven different studios. It was at BARN where my critique group began. With equal time given to in-depth comments on each other's works, snarky remarks, and laughter, we have now been together over five years.
Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/h8rQVL
Website: https://www.tmsmith.net
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/tmsmithauthor
Instagram: https://instagram.com/tmsmith12 TikTok: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZTRs4QYVV/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/23836674.T_M_Smith
Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/t-m-smith-a6bb0aae-e4e8-4ae3-bd1d-75bc29510ca9?list=about 

 

Healing Cassiopeia Charlie Daye 
Genre: Fantasy Romance Date of Publication: 6/20/2023Number of pages: 539Word Count: 96,522Cover Artist: Charlie Daye 
Book Description: 
What if you lost everything you ever loved? 
Cassie lost everything in a single night… Her husband, her unborn child and any hope for a happy future.
Welcome to Elvy – Land of the Fae and endless magic.
In an attempt to pull Cassie from her downward spiral, her parents take her home, to Elvy… A world of unparalleled beauty, magic and endless possibilities. But Elvy is not all it appears to be… there is trickery, deceit, a social hierarchy Cassie doesn’t understand and rules she refuses to play by.
To Love again…
When love comes calling, will Cassie fall to the pressure of Elven society or follow her heart to the happiness she thought she lost forever?
Amazon

Excerpt:

Cassie sat inher room staring out the window. It had been three months since her husbanddied and yet the melancholy that enveloped her would not let go. But it wasn’tjust her husband’s death that haunted her. She was, unfortunately, hit with adouble whammy that night.

She was threemonths into her pregnancy and she and her husband, Greg, had decided to go outand celebrate. It was the first successful pregnancy she’d had since theystarted trying to conceive. It had taken them nearly three years and after twomiscarriages and more hormone injections than Cassie would ever want to thinkabout, the pregnancy finally took.

“If it’s a boy,we’ll have to name him Greg Jr.,” Greg said, taking her hand.

“Oh, you thinkso, do you? And what if I want to name him something else?” she teased.

Bringing herhand to his lips, he kissed it, “I may be willing to negotiate… for the rightprice.” He winked at her.

She laughed,“Only you would use sex as a bargaining chip.”

“Hey! I never even mentioned the word sex, butif it’s on the table…” he shrugged, then grinned.

About the Author: 
Charlie Daye began writing at the tender age of thirteen. With an obsession for romance, happy endings and the supernatural she delves into your greatest fantasies and worst nightmares. She will have you laughing, crying, falling in love and getting angry. She will always give you a HEA but getting there is the journey worth taking.
Charlie Daye was born in Lynwood, California. Her greatest passions are music and writing. Her first short story was written at the age of thirteen. At the time her entire class was asked to write a short story for Halloween as part of a homework assignment. Most of the kids in the class wrote one to two page stories... Charlie wrote eight. The short story titled The Haunted House went on to win her district wide awards and was published locally. From their she began writing poetry as means of expression.
Since her writing career began she's has published several titles... The House, The Colonial, The Reservation, The Portrait, The Gypsy's Dance, Mistaken for a Call Girl, Her Last Request and Breeders. Four of which have been nominated for the 2012 RONE Award.
For updates on her books or just to spend some time in her fun and crazy world check out her webpage at charliedaye.com or find her on Facebook!
http://www.charliedaye.com/
https://www.facebook.com/AuthorCharlieDaye 
https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100006138167277 


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