Category: Book Giveaways

Check Out the new release “You Can Save Me “ by R.M. Merrill (OWL tour and giveaway)

You Can Save Me - R.L. Merrill

R.L. Merrill has a new MM paranormal romance in the Carnival of Mysteries series, the sequel to You Can Do Magic: You Can Save Me.

Sixties folk singer Dane Donovan vanished from a desolate highway rest area in 1979. Forty years later, he’s found hitchhiking in the California desert on a cold winter’s night. He hasn’t aged a day, but the roadmap of scars he wears tells a chilling tale.

Veteran detective Walter Muse took over the case twenty years ago, but his haunting connection to Dane Donovan goes back to a peculiar run-in as a child with The Troubadour and his Talking Board at a traveling carnival. He receives a late-night call with Dane’s whereabouts and races to Laurel Canyon to see for himself whether Dane is real — or a ghost. Walter’s carefully honed detective instincts are thrown out the window when his obsession with the case turns into an undeniable attraction to the mysterious singer.

Dane is on a mission to stop a new killer hell-bent on picking up where Dane’s kidnapper left off, and Walter is determined to protect him, no matter the personal and psychological cost. They’ll have to rely on new friends and trusted colleagues as well as the power of a mystical spirit board to stop the killing, and have a chance at a real future together.

Warnings: discussion of suicide, serial killer attempted murder

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Excerpt

You Can Save Me meme - R.L. Merrill

On a dark desert highway somewhere in California, I walked alone on the dusty shoulder with a borrowed acoustic guitar strapped to my back and my sole possession tucked under my arm in a brown paper bag. I shivered as though evil was breathing down my neck, when in reality, I was the one in pursuit. The sky had a purplish hue with some storm clouds off to the north but directly above me, the stars flickered in a surreal dance.

I walked with purpose, and it was a very important one.

I’m the only one who can stop him.

I passed a sign that said Highway 58 to Mojave, and I pulled my salvaged coat tighter around my scrawny self. The ground was warm beneath my tattered boots, but the air bit into my skin like an icy monster gnashing its teeth, hungry.

I turned to look behind me and spotted headlights coming my way. It had been at least an hour since another car had passed. I stuck out my thumb, hoping they’d stop. The boots I wore were also borrowed, as were my clothes and hat. I chose them because they were the only ones in the carnival storage that were the right size and fit.

I had only one memory from before I’d started working with the traveling carnival, and it was awful enough to make your blood run cold.

The lights hurt my eyes, and my energy flagged, but I kept my thumb out. I had something important to do, and if this car didn’t slow down, I’d keep going until the next one came. Someone had to stop. How else did people get anywhere if not for thumb power?

The headlights grew nearer and were impossibly bright. I had to cover my eyes briefly as I was nearly blinded. I heard the crunch of gravel as the vehicle pulled over and coughed at the cloud of dust that rose. A door opened and a male voice called out.

“Hey, man. What are you doing out here?”<

The bright lights faded and only a set of yellow ones down low on the front of the…pickup truck were left on. It was a massive thing, jacked up high, with big tires and a shiny chrome grill.

What does it look like I’m doing? The large concrete sign with the strange name loomed in my consciousness, and though every cell in my body struggled against my purpose, I stood tall and called back, “Need a ride. To Buttonwillow.”

The truck door closed, and I saw the man’s shape pass in front of the dim lights. What was he doing getting out of his ride? I backed up a step, trying to play it cool. He wasn’t the person I was worried about.

Then the passenger door opened, and a much larger man got out.

“Ryan, don’t.”

There were two of them. I didn’t like my odds, but I had no choice. I had to get there. I had to stop…

“Forget it man, I’ll walk.”

“Wait, come back. You can’t walk that far. That’s, like, almost a hundred miles away.”

The driver came closer, but the big man stepped in between us. I reached for the guitar on my back. Maybe I could whack him with it and run away. I was pretty fast.

“Do you have any weapons?” Then the passenger barked an order at me. “Let me see under your jacket.”

“Come on, man. I just need a ride. I don’t have anything.”

The driver pushed past him. “Kal, it’s okay. Hey, kid, what’s your name?”

“Dee Dee.”

The driver held his hand out, and I shook it. “Dee Dee, I’m Ryan, and this is my husband, Kal. Damn,” he said, letting go of my hand and slapping his together, the loud crack making me jump. “I love saying that.” He turned and smiled at the large man, whose scowl seemed to lessen the slightest bit. “We just got married in Vegas.” He held up a hand and the light flashed off of his wedding band.

“Congratulations?” It came out like the question it was. How were they married? Two men? Guess they really do let anything happen in Las Vegas.

“Where’d you come from?” Kal asked, standing next to Ryan as if to protect him from me. Not sure I’d ever been seen as a threat to anyone, but I didn’t blame him for being cautious. Wish I’d had someone to look after me like that.

“Back that way. Was working at a carnival, and I needed to—”

Ryan put a hand on my chest and his eyes went wide. “Did you say carnival? Like, ‘Welcome, Traveler’ carnival?”

“How’d you know?” I tried to step back and my heel caught on a rock. I was about to go down, but Kal caught me—and then I was caught up in his gaze.

“I came from there, too,” Kal said.

And then I heard it. In my mind. Calliope music.

I’d never gone to see it. I hadn’t done much exploring. I’d only gone from my trailer to my booth and back for however long I’d been employed there. Didn’t seem long, but then, time did weird things at the carnival.

>“The Troubadour’s Talking Board,” Kal said. He gripped my arm a little tighter as he brought me back up to standing. “The booth in the arcade. I know you.”

“That’s right. That’s me. Well, it was. I left. Got something I gotta do.”

Ryan grabbed Kal’s arm. “The promise. Babe, we have to help him.”

Kal continued to stare down at me, and though he seemed good—the big man oozed honor from his pores—he was a scary guy. His hand could have wrapped around my bicep twice. Or my throat. He looked from Ryan to me, and then he let go of my arm.

“We shall help you along your path.”

Seemed like a strange way of saying “sure, we’ll give you a ride,” but I’d take it.

“Thank you.”

Ryan gestured to the truck. “Hop in.”

Kal remained at my side and when we reached the cab, he opened the front of two doors. I’d never seen a pickup with two sets of doors before. This thing was unreal.

“You ride up here,” Kal said, taking the guitar from me. “I’ll be right behind you. If you hurt my husband, I will hurt you.”

“God, Kal. That’s hot, but babe, don’t scare the kid. We promised we’d help him.”

“Promised who?” I asked as I climbed into the tall pickup. “And I’m not a kid.”

Kal shut my door after I sat, and then he climbed in. I turned my back to the door. I didn’t like having him behind me. Didn’t like anyone at my back, especially after what had happened to land me at the carnival in the first place.

“I think you know,” Kal said as Ryan started the pickup. “Ryan and I are married because someone else made a promise to help us on our path. Ryan made a promise to Mr. Ame. Now we will do the same for you.”

I’d known cats who lived together, maybe even called themselves husbands, but marriage couldn’t happen between homosexuals. This was all too much. It was like I’d left one odd place and wound up in another.

But what he said about promises put my purpose front and center in my mind.

I sighed and turned just a bit, still able to see Kal out of the corner of my eye as he sat in the middle of the backseat. He rested a hand on the seat behind Ryan’s shoulder, his fingers tangling in the man’s shoulder-length copper hair.

“Thank you for stopping,” I said before I let my eyes drift closed. I needed to rest. I would need my strength when we arrived.

“What’s in Buttonwillow?” I heard Kal ask Ryan.

“All I know about it is there’s a pair of rest stops on either side of the highway. Creepy-ass place. Every time I stop there, I’m sure a murderer is going to jump out of the bushes.”

You don’t know how right you are.

Author Bio

R.L. Merrill

Whether she’s writing contemporary romance featuring quirky and relatable characters or diving deep into the paranormal and supernatural to give readers a shiver, R.L. Merrill loves creating compelling, diverse, and inclusive stories that will stay with readers long after. Winner of the Kathryn Hayes “When Sparks Fly” Best Contemporary award for Hurricane Reese, Paranormal Romance Guild’s Best Rockstar Romance for You Can Do Magic, and Daphne DuMaurier finalist for Connection, Ro spends every spare moment improving her writing craft and striving to find that perfect balance between real-life and happily ever after.

You can find her connecting with readers on social media, advocating for America’s youth, cruising around town with Great Dane Velma, cuddling with twin black cat familiars Frankenstein and Dracula, or headbanging at a rock show near her home in the San Francisco Bay Area! Stay Tuned for more…

Author Website: https://www.rlmerrillauthor.com

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/rochellerlmerrill/

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/rlmerrillauthor

Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/rlmerrillauthor

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/9828914.R_L_Merrill

Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/r-l-merrill/

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/R.L.-Merrill/author/B00PI6Q1LI

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Join us for the tour and giveaway for Down the Line by AG Meiers (Other World Ink)

Down the Line - AG Meiers - Jake's Bar

AG Meiers has a new MM romantic suspense book out: Down the Line. And there’s a giveaway.

Revenge is a Dangerous Obsession.

Dean Hunt needs the story of a lifetime—Since his uncompromising attitude got him fired, the investigative journalist is hell-bent to expose the powerful and corrupt Conway family. It’s a career move, and absolutely not a vendetta against the oldest son Noel, who ghosted Dean after a mind-blowing weekend together.

Noel Conway needs a new start—After years away, Noel has come home to rebuild the bridges he’s burned. Too bad his past caused a ripple effect he can’t outrun. Now, he’s asked to save his family from the one man he never expected to see again but can’t forget.

Dean is chasing front-page news, and Noel is trying to protect the ones he loves. But the line between enemies and lovers gets blurred when a dangerous criminal from Noel’s past resurfaces. Will the truth shatter their tentative trust? Or do they have a shot at happily ever after?

But none of that matters when suddenly Noel disappears…

Down the Line, the final book in the award-winning Jake’s Bar series, is a spicy, M/M romantic suspense featuring a rainbow-colored bar full of quirky characters, and all the romance you can handle. So, download today, and get ready to fall in love with Jake’s Bar.

Warnings: smoking cigarettes and weed in the hot tub, kidnapping (on page scenes restrained), verbally abusive father

About the Series:

The award-winning Jake’s Bar series is a set of steamy, M/M romantic suspense novels, featuring a rainbow- colored bar full of quirky characters, and all the romance you can handle.

Universal Buy Link | Amazon

Giveaway

AG is giving away a $10 Amazon gift card with this tour:

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Excerpt

Jake's Bar banner

As Dean reached the top of the staircase, a man stepped out of the shadows in front of his door. Dean straightened his shoulders. “Detective Conway.”

“Hunt.”

In a parallel universe, they might have been friends. They were fighting the same fight. Had the same enemies. In this world, they weren’t brothers in arms. In this world, Dean had been cast as the villain.

“How can I help you this fine morning?”

“Open the door. We gotta talk.”

“Look, it’s been a long night—”

“Just open the damn door.” Conway snarled, pushing into Dean’s personal space.

Dean stood his ground. “Are you here in an official capacity? Because then, the answer is no, I won’t let you in. You have no warrant, no permission to search my property. I don’t consent—”

“Just shut the fuck up. None of us wants this shitshow to be on the record,” Con growled.

Dean, curious, took a step back and raised his empty hand, palm up. “Okay.”

He fished for his key, pushed open the door, and quickly disarmed his alarm system. Conway didn’t wait to be invited in, just crossed the living room, dropped his shearling coat onto the sofa, then walked over to the large window overlooking the river.

The view was the only redeeming feature of Dean’s otherwise-generic apartment. The mess didn’t help. There were dirty dishes piled up in the sink, a pizza box on the breakfast counter separating the cramped kitchen from the living room, and an unmade bed in the other corner of the room.

“For a guy who anxiously waited at my doorstep, you’re awfully quiet.” Dean smirked. “Coffee?”

“No.” Conway turned his back, now studying the row of framed newspaper front pages Dean had hung on the apartment’s interior wall. His personal collection of historic headlines—headlines that changed the world.

The oldest was from July 6, 1776. The Pennsylvania Evening Post, printing the Declaration of Independence on its front page. Next to it, the Daily Telegram, declaring the end of the Second World War. The two most recent, the New York Times’ “OBAMA: Racial barrier falls in heavy turnout” and, of course, the front page the day after 9/11.

Dean had added a few more personal favorites, like Moneta J. Sleet’s photography of Coretta Scott King at MLK’s funeral. The first Black man to win the Pulitzer for journalism.

Conway took his time examining each framed newspaper. Dean already regretted allowing the intrusion into his space. He felt exposed—vulnerable—under silent scrutiny.

Irritated, he started banging around the kitchen. He was in no mood to explain that looking at those headlines every day fueled his ambitions and inspired his dreams. Dean believed with every fiber of his being in the power of a free and independent press.

He turned on the coffee machine and leaned against the counter. As if Conway felt Dean’s angry glare across the room, he finally turned and stared right back. For a moment, they engaged in a silent standoff.

Unease flittered through Dean. Camille had been right. Her brother was seething with anger. And Dean had no fucking idea what he’d done to piss him off. He sighed and shook his head, then took two mugs out of the cabinet and put them onto the island. “Miguel, have a damn coffee. You look like you need it.”

“Says the man who clearly slept in his party clothes and crept home at sunup.”

“Guilty as charged.” Dean shrugged.

Conway curled his lip. “I do not know what my sister sees in you.”

It wasn’t a question, so Dean didn’t bother with an answer. “You wanted to talk? So, talk.”

Instead of talking, though, Conway pulled out a stack of papers. Pushing aside the coffee cups to make room, he spread them out over the counter.

Dean froze. The first blurry photograph featured Dean in another man’s arms. In the next, the same man was pressing Dean against a white porch railing, his own hands tangled in the man’s messy curls. Conway fanned the stack, revealing nearly a dozen more.

Dean and Noel Conway, kissing.

Suddenly, he was there again, the ocean breeze tugging on his clothes. Noel’s warm skin, tasting like sunshine and a hint of salt, his eyes blown with desire. Goddamn, so fucking beautiful, with that shy smile, whispered promises—

Dean’s throat was desert dry. His ragged breath and the hissing of the coffee machine came together like a fucking symphony. “I—”

“Save it. My sister thinks you’re this hotshot journalist. Full of passion. Braving adversity. Motivated by a noble cause. Yeah, fuck that. You’re after my family because Noel pounded your ass, then dropped you like he does everybody else. Your pride—your precious ego—is hurt because you’re just another notch in my brother’s carved-up bedpost.”

Conway grabbed his jacket and walked to the door. He turned and added, “Watch it, Hunt. You got no job. No friends. No prospects. But if you think you’ve reached rock bottom, think again.”

Dean contained himself until he heard his door close with a soft click. Only then did he allow himself to swipe papers, cups, and the fucking photos off his counter. The cups shattered

on the tile floor.

Author Bio

Eighteen years ago, AG Meiers came to the US for adventure and stayed for love. Currently, she lives in New England with her husband and two awesome kids—balancing work, friends and family, and writing.

When she has some free time, her favorite thing to do is travel and visit new places. Her past trips have already brought her to a variety of countries on four continents. She never passes up an opportunity to experience different cultures, diverse people and amazing locations.

Even though she has been dreaming up stories all her life, she has only recently started to write them down and share them with the world. As a writer she loves to put her characters through a lot of challenges, conflict and heartbreak, before she allows them to find their happy-ever-after.

Author Website: https://www.agmeiers.com

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/ag.meiers.1/

Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/agmeiers/

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/AG-Meiers/author/B07MCHQH5B

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Check out the latest tour and giveaway for The Hencha Queen by J. Scott Coatsworth

The Hencha Queen - J. Scott Coatsworth

J. Scott Coatsworth has a new queer sci-fantasy book out, Tales from Tharassas book 3: The Hencha Queen.

“A richly painted world that is both beautiful and sinister, evoking landscapes that are as much science fiction as Tolkiensian fantasy. 5 stars.” –Ulysses, Paranormal Romance Guild

SILYA COMES INTO HER OWN, BUT WILL SHE BE ENOUGH?

Silya finally has everything she always wanted. She’s the Hencha Queen, head of the Temple, and is working to master her newfound talents. So why does the world pick now to fall apart?

Her once-nemesis Raven is off riding dragons, and their mutual friend (and her ex) Aik is nowhere to be found. Meanwhile, a new threat menaces the Heartland from the East, and if she can’t convince a reluctant Gullton city council to prepare for the worst, she may lose everyone and everything she’s ever cared about.

As she uses her magic-like abilities, wit and sheer determination to try to save the city, she’s joined by Raven and his new friends. Will their help tip the scales? And will they finally find out what happened to Aik as a dark storm threatens to sweep them all away?

Forget messy. Things just got apocalyptic.

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About the Series

The Tharassas Cycle is a four book sci-fantasy series set on the recently colonized world of Tharassas. When humans first arrived on planet, they thought they were alone until the hencha mind made itself known. But now a new threat has arisen to challenge both humankind and their new allies on this alien world.

Tharassas Cycle Sales

Books 1 & 2 are on sale through March 31st for just 99¢ each (eBooks, all vendors). And if you buy one (or all three) of the main series books, email scott@jscottcoatsworth.com and let him know and he’ll send you a free copy of Tales From Tharassas, the prequel.

See All the Pre-Release Deals

Giveaway

Scott is giving away an eBook copy of Tales from Tharassas, the prequel, to everyone who enters the sweepstakes:

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Excerpt

The Hencha Queen meme

A sharp crack filled the wine cellar. Kerrick swung the heavy mallet back and then assailed the flopwood boards that blocked the tunnel entrance again. The ancient wood splintered under the blow, sending shards clattering across the stone-paved floor.

It felt good to work out his frustrations. Still, the stubborn wood held out against his assault.

He rested the mallet on the black-tiled stone floor, wiping the sweat off his forehead with the back of his hand. Even after a hundred years, the barrier was strong. He’d tried to pry the boards out of the solid stone, but they’d been fastened in too tightly. Brute force it is.

“You’re doing great!” Cor’Lea’s voice was artificially bright, and she was as tall as he was, maybe a little taller, peering over his shoulder at the sealed tunnel entrance.

Silya had tasked her with bringing him down here to check out these hidden caverns under the Temple, in preparation for the coming war. Important, sure, but also clearly an excuse to get him out from underfoot while she prepared for her official Raising.

He grunted. “Thanks. These boards are hard as iron.” And hard as Silya’s will.

One day things would be different between them, once this crisis was over. I just have to be patient.

Coral laughed. “I’m sure a big, strong man like you can break through them easily.” She squeezed his bicep appreciatively.

He shrugged her off. He wasn’t sure if the gawky initiate was flirting with him or just trying to encourage him to get on with it, but either way, he wasn’t interested. “Stand back.” He hefted the hammer again, and she scurried out of his way.

He suppressed a smile, swinging the mallet around for another heavy blow.

Craack.

This time the board buckled inward visibly. Another few hits should do it.

He pulled back the heavy iron hammer again and hit the same spot with blow after blow. Craack. Craack. Craack.

The mallet broke through and a board fell away into splinters, clattering across the stone floor. One down, three more to go. “Why did they seal this cavern up?”

Cor’Lea gestured at the natural chamber. “There was a winery here before the Temple. Sister Dor said they used to use it for extra wine storage.” She looked around the natural chamber, which was now filled with wooden shelving holding a variety of bottled food stores. “When Jas ordered the Temple to be constructed, they kept this wide cavern and blocked off the rest of the tunnels.”

“Just in case the gully rats got in?” That thief Raven had apparently made his home in one of the underground tunnels. Who knew who else—or what else—lived down there?

Cor’Lea snorted. “Maybe.”

Are tunnels all connected, somehow? That was one of Silya’s most urgent projects, to map out the network of caverns beneath the city. Another reason she sent me down here—to get me out from under her robes.

A few more whacks at the next board served to both break it and let out his frustrations at the situation preventing him from doing his sworn job and keeping them apart. And at what she said was coming.

Craack. Craack. Craack.

The board snapped in half, and he judged that he’d cleared enough space to step through into the blocked-off tunnel. “Hand me that lantern?

Cor’Lea complied, taking the opportunity to brush his hand.

He rolled his eyes. I should be flattered. But his heart was already taken.

It was times like these he wished his brother Enrick were still alive. He’d know what to do. He’d been absurdly confident about everything, even though he’d been younger than Kerrick.

Kerrick wasn’t great with women.

He took the lantern and stepped over the bottom board, holding it in front of him. The bright light temporarily blinded him as he sought to get his bearings.

“What do you see?” Cor’Lea peered through the hole behind him.

His sight adjusted, and the tunnel’s walls came into focus.

He whistled. Stacked along the side of the tunnel were hundreds of crates, all strapped together in groups and sealed. “It’s… I don’t know what it is. But I’ll bet Silya will be surprised.” They’d have to find a place to put all this stuff—whatever it was, it was likely rotten after all this time. Silya needed somewhere to store people, not ancient goods.

Cor’Lea stepped carefully over the splintered boards to join him. “What do you think’s inside them?”

The long row of crates disappeared into the darkness. Who knew what the ancients had considered valuable enough to stash down here. Coin? Lost treasure? “One way to find out. Does the Temple have a crowbar?”

Author Bio

J. Scott Coatsworth

Scott lives with his husband Mark in a yellow bungalow in Sacramento. He was indoctrinated into fantasy and sci fi by his mother at the tender age of nine. He devoured her library, but as he grew up, he wondered where all the people like him were.

He decided that if there weren’t queer characters in his favorite genres, he would remake them to his own ends.

A Rainbow Award winning author, he runs Queer Sci Fi, QueeRomance Ink, Liminal Fiction, and Other Worlds Ink with Mark, sites that celebrate fiction reflecting queer reality, and is the committee chair for the Indie Authors Committee at the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA).

Author Website: https://www.jscottcoatsworth.com

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/jscottcoatsworth/

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/jscottcoatsworthauthor

Author Mastodon: https://mastodon.otherworldsink.com/@jscottcoatsworth

Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/jscottcoatsworth/

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8392709.J_Scott_Coatsworth

Author Liminal Fiction (LimFic.com): https://www.limfic.com/mbm-book-author/j-scott-coatsworth/

Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/j-scott-coatsworth/

Author Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/J.-Scott-Coatsworth/e/B011AFO4OQ

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Review: Ghostly Hostage (Ghostly Book 6) by E M Laya

Rating: 4.5🌈

Ghostly Hostage is an excellent example of a series can continue to grow and expand its universe and make narrative choices that are both exciting and challenging.

In Ghostly Hostage, our main couple has just finished their much needed vacation abroad a cruise. They’ve also decided to move into Lance’s house together. All big plans and steps forward in their relationship.

But immediately they and this story is plunged into a hostage situation.

Usually it’s Homicide Detective Angus whose life is placed in jeopardy. But here, instead, it’s the morgue with all its employees we’ve gotten to know and become fond of who are in eminent danger.

Laya makes the situation even more complicated by placing at its center a case and the people holding them at gunpoint, people we will understand and empathize with. It’s a horrible situation but at its heart is something far worse. A dead child who may have been murdered.

The author switches the perspective back and forth between the increasingly tense hostage situation and those outside the morgue hoping for answers, amplifying the suspense and the anxiety scene by scene. Even as the emotional component is realistically raised by those inside and out, with people crumbling under the stress, Laya remembers this is a police procedural that includes stalling by the hospital, warrants, and long hours of believable research. Even when there’s ghosts involved.

And there’s plenty of ghosts involved here. Including new ones. They flow seamlessly into the investigation in increasingly familiar but complex ways. And it adds to the paranormal aspect of this series by involving new characters in this world.

The crime, criminal, and ending was one I really appreciated. Although it’s a ghostly tale, the author treats it in a factual, grounded in reality manner that elevates the story.

I can’t wait to see what happens next.

I’m highly recommending this book and the entire series.

Ghostly series:

✓ Ghostly Awakening #1

✓ Ghostly Findings #2

✓ Ghostly Envy #3

✓ Ghostly Claus #4

✓ Ghostly Target #5

✓ Ghostly Hostage #6

◦ Ghostly Death #7-tbd

Buy Link:

Ghostly Hostage

Blurb:

Back from vacation, Lance is ready to dive back into work—that is, until the morgue employees are taken hostage on his first day back. Held at gunpoint was not how he thought he’d spend his day. With their lives on the line, Lance and the others have no choice but to follow orders and perform the autopsy that’s been demanded.

Angus never dreamed he’d be the one worrying about Lance being killed. He was the one with the dangerous job, not Lance. With the only information he can get coming from the ghosts, Angus and his mother try to sort through the evidence and do everything they can to keep Lance and the others alive.

As the case unfolds, Angus faces twists and turns he never saw coming, and as the truth is exposed, he prays the vacation he just enjoyed with Lance won’t be the last one they ever share.

• Publisher: E.L. Publishing (February 20, 2024)

• Publication date: February 20, 2024

• Language: English

• File size: 425 KB

Check out the latest tour for “Beside the Darker Shore by Patricia J. Esposito (Other Worlds Tour OWL)g

Patricia J. Esposito has a new MM paranormal romance out: Beside the Darker Shore. And there’s a giveaway.

What might the ethical Governor David Gedden give up for one man’s exquisite beauty? It’s terrifying to consider when the man is a destructive blood prostitute and David is responsible for the state’s peaceful vampire community. Blood sales in Boston are up, blood taxes support a thriving new nightlife, neighborhoods have been refurbished, and deaths by vampires have plummeted. David is assured reelection.

However, the blood addict Stephen Salando has returned from exile with one unalterable plan: to turn the good governor into a vampire. Stephen is an immortal dhampir, whose beauty obliterates reason, who rouses in David a fierce desire he’s ignored his whole life. But for David to have Stephen, he must ally with an ancient vampire, the community’s seductive archnemesis. To have him, he must become a killer himself.

Will David hold on to his ethical public life? Or will he follow what he most desires, a kiss with a killer to become a vampire himself?

Universal Buy Link

Giveaway

Patricia is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this tour.

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Excerpt

MEME 2 - Beside the Darker Shore

Non-Exclusive Excerpt:

 

Wetness enveloped him. It was exhilarating, this deep lake submersion. David hadn’t been told about the effects of water. Here, in this water, he wasn’t sure he even needed blood. He wasn’t sure he needed anything. He dove under and swam toward Stephen.

His body cleanly cut the surface, and he emerged before the bound liveblood. Blood streamed from a gash in Stephen’s chest. The vampires dipped white fingers in his blood, licking them. No one had bitten him, and his eyes held none of the ecstasy of bloodletting. They stared darkly at David.

“You’re an irresistible pleasure,” David said.

The black rock shone glassy, Stephen’s skin a warm contrast. David placed his hand flat on the bloody chest. He sniffed Stephen’s neck, up his cheek. His hair was cold satin. Water lapped at Stephen’s chest, drinking him. One of the two vampires bit into Stephen’s arm, making him gasp. But still he didn’t drink. They were waiting.

Cupping water, David raised it to Stephen’s face.

“You’re moonlight caught in darkness, but see how it slips away.” The water slid over his palm. “What are you sacrificing on these rocks?”

Placing both palms on Stephen’s chest again, David felt the hard cavern of chest bone, smoothed his hands over the satin skin to the round nipples shocked at the touch. He could take this body he desired, take it and leave it. This blood was promised to him. He heard Stephen’s heart beating warmly even in this cold water.

“David,” he whispered.

With that, David froze. His heart that had calmed in the water became erratic again. Stephen’s skin blurred like a warm brown sheath over David’s eyes. His throat closed, and the vampire laughter around him grew muffled, like he was underwater.

One word, one plea from Stephen and David couldn’t breathe. He couldn’t look at those eyes, couldn’t say what he needed to say. Fear clenched his stomach. Stephen’s breath burned David’s cheek.

Cold water slid between them.

And then Stephen lunged forward, and David felt the pain of blunt teeth on his neck. Stephen grabbed hold of him, biting hard, ripping David’s skin.

“No!” He shoved Stephen off. He didn’t have to do this. He wouldn’t be slave to this kind of need. The water had been healing; he’d felt at peace until seeing Stephen. David slammed Stephen back against the rock.

His legs quivered in the water. He backed away, letting water rush between them, and then Elena broke through, turning the water electric.

“Are you with me then?” she asked. “Can you see there is but one point to him?”

David scraped his leg against sharp rock as he backed away; seaweed twisted around his feet.

“No,” Stephen said. David couldn’t look at those eyes that pleaded with him. Stephen had propelled him to this point, whether deliberately or not. How much more could he make David do? He had to leave. He had to stay far from Stephen.

“David,” Stephen called, but his voice faltered. Pushing tendrils of wet hair from Stephen’s neck, Elena sunk her teeth into him. Then David did look up, as Stephen closed his eyes, as he succumbed to what he couldn’t resist.

David’s chest hurt, as if his ribs and chest bone had turned to iron mail. Clouds drifted across the moon, and Stephen’s face fell into shadows. He heard Stephen’s voice in his head, words he’d said three years ago, “Exile,” he’d said back then. “When did you go into this exile?”

Long ago.

David turned away, but Arturo was there, blocking his way. “You leave so soon?” Hate bruised his usually welcoming eyes. “When the festival has just begun?”

“Whatever you do to me, Arturo, I won’t let you live through me or love through me. I’ve found where my joy and peace are.”

“In water, like Alexandros?”

“Not like Alex. I need to kill, and the only way I can find peace with that is in solitary existence. I can’t be both mortal human and vampire. Maybe Alex can’t stand to be anything but what he was, a human. I think I can only be a vampire. I don’t want human connections. Consider your fledgling a success as a vampire. That’s all that’s left for you.”

Arturo’s hand slapped David’s chest in an icy brand. “No, that isn’t all. You think you need the kill, but you know nothing of need if you can’t love.”

Pain seared David’s chest, a raw burn that shuddered through him. Arturo had cut him. His hand slapped again, and another slice tore through to David’s ribs. The pain was silent in his throat, blocked by the rush of blood, his legs buckling. Blood poured.

“You bleed,” Arturo whispered. “You bleed into your healing water. Water loves blood. It will drain you.”

Around his waist, the water warmed and thickened. For a moment he thought how short-lived his vampire life had been, and then his body swayed with the pain.

 

Author Bio

Patricia J. Esposito

Patricia Esposito lives by the notion Luis Alberto Urrea once expressed: When the world is so dark and bloody, be brave enough to broadcast innocent joy. Dare to be naive. She has written edgy paranormal fiction for most of her life, but always finds beneath it a romantic heart. Her most recent fiction and poetry reflect that enduring quest for love and joy beneath the human struggle.

Patricia has received honorable mentions in Ellen Datlow’sYear’s Best Fantasy and Horror collections, is a two-time winner of Rhino’s Reader=Writer award, and is a Pushcart Prize nominee. With a Master’s degree in English, she edits law books and textbooks for income and tries to keep up with a retired husband and enjoy time with her two adult daughters—when she’s not off exploring the intoxicating realms of the imagination and chasing muses.

Beside the Darker Shore is her first full-length work of fiction. She welcomes the chance to meet other writers and readers through her website or Facebook page.

Author Website: https://patriciaesposito.com

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100016701095244

Author Facebook (Author page): https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=61553640405983

Author Mastodon: https://mastodon.social/@PatriciaEsposito

Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/november_drift/

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5033647.Patricia_J_Esposito

Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/patricia-j-esposito/

Liminal Fiction: https://www.limfic.com/book/beside-the-darker-shore/

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Patricia-J.-Esposito/author/B005Y54YHQ

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Check Out the latest Tour for The Wasteland Kings by Jaimie N. Schock

The Wasteland Kings - Jaimie N. Schock

Jaimie N. Schock has a new queer sci-fi book (MM romance subplots) book out: The Wasteland Kings. And there’s a giveaway.

Hacker Bast has it all: a cushy condo, a sexy boyfriend, and a place among the wealthy elite. When his past catches up with him, he flees into the dreary and dangerous wastelands between domed cities. There, he meets Delphi, who saves him, and Galeron, who runs a small town. He is anything but safe, however, as robotic “dogs” roam the countryside, looking for people to kill, and humans can be just as deadly.

As Bast settles in to life in the town, he develops a controversial relationship with Galeron. They fall in love, but all is not well in their world. Can the two of them survive and reach the happy ending they long for, or will the wastelands take everything they hold dear?

Warnings: Guns, death, child death, violence, animal death, suicide, drug use, nazis.

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Giveaway

Jaimie is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this tour:

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Excerpt

Breakfast was water. Lunch was water. Dinner was water. By the end of the next day, he had very little left.

He looked for anything that might help him survive. He found paper to start a fire; large decorative stones that he could throw at an animal; an ancient first aid kit featuring gauze, medical glue, tape, and rubbing alcohol; and a shaker filled with salt.

Bast couldn’t believe he’d found so much. He still needed food, however, and his hunger pangs were getting more severe as time went on.

He took an unopened bag of potato chips—not to eat, but to hopefully bring out animals that might be interested in consuming its contents. That night, he dumped the degraded snack into three piles and waited with a rock in hand.

The only thing that showed any interest was a large rat. It looked less than appetizing.

Bast didn’t hesitate. He threw a stone and then jumped on the dazed animal. He smashed its head with a larger rock. Breathing quickly, he sat back and stared at the dead creature.

He wondered if it was safe to eat, even cooked. After all, this animal lived in a polluted world.

First things first, he had to gut it. He’d seen people do it in old survival videos. Taking his small knife, he made an incision along the abdomen and began carefully digging out the digestive system, so as not to break it open. He imagined the bacteria in the stomach and intestines would ruin the meat if it got out. He gagged more than once and tasted bile.

Bast cut off the crushed head and placed the animal in a cigar box. It would last a day or so, he thought. The air was cold, to the point of making him shiver, so it should help preserve the rat.

Now, he really needed to find a way to make fire.

After sleeping for a few hours, he started out as soon as the sun poked through the trees. He wasn’t an expert on survival—not even close. But he knew from movies that there were ways to produce a spark without the use of a lighter or matches.

Near mid-day, he found what he needed:

An old pair of glasses, tucked into the pocket of a person’s naturally mummified corpse.

It was one of several bodies he encountered so far. Bast didn’t want to touch it. The thought of being around a long-dead body made him queasy. The only other times he’d seen a dead body were at funerals and when he killed that police officer. This was different. The body thankfully didn’t smell anymore, but it looked horrific. Drawn lips over skeletal teeth. Missing eyes. Gnarled hands clutching at nothing. If he didn’t need the glasses to survive, he would have stayed far away from the corpse.

He planned to utilize the sun by focusing light onto the paper and hopefully burning it. Bast took the glasses and the rat and found a clearing. He placed the paper and some small sticks on a pile and tried to aim sunlight at it.

At first, it didn’t work. Then, the paper began to smolder. Small amounts of smoke rose up, and he could smell ashes. Bast joyfully added bigger sticks and blew on the fire to encourage it. When the fire grew, he stuck his dead rat on a metal rod and held it over the flames. He couldn’t be happier to eat a day-old polluted rat.

He cooked the animal until it was nearly too tough to eat. Bast pulled off the greasy meat with his fingers and ate it all in little more than a minute. He was still very hungry when he discarded the bones and fur.

Regardless, he felt energized by the small amount of food. And now he knew he could cook something if and when he caught another critter. For the first time, he felt hopeful—and then he ran out of water.

For the next twenty-four hours or so, Bast spent nearly every waking moment looking for more liquids. He would have tried old beverages of almost any kind if it meant he could have his thirst satisfied.

He found nothing. With the empty water jug in hand, he stooped over a stream, wondering if it was worth tempting fate. He could certainly find a pot and boil the water, which would take care of germs, but if it was filled with chemicals, plastics, and man-made contaminants, no amount of boiling would fix that. He knew he was still pretty close to the cities. He knew it could kill him. Sighing, he filled the jug and put it in his bag.

Bast went another full day without drinking anything. It was agony. He found an empty metal bottle and put that in a fire with some of the creek water. By the time it cooled enough to drink, a black slime covered the top of the liquid. He threw it out, preferring to die over drinking something that disgusting.

His limbs stopped working properly. He tripped while walking along uneven asphalt. When he looked down at his bleeding knee, his vision tunneled, and he passed out.

Author Bio

Jaimie N. Schock

Jaimie N. Schock is an author, editor, and journalist with nearly two decades of professional experience. She has been published in newspapers and magazines and has released nine fiction novels.

She is married and living in Northern Virginia. Though she have an extensive career, she is disabled with PTSD and chronic illness. Schock tries to incorporate her life experiences into the fictional pieces she writes while delivering complex and diverse characters. Her pronouns are she/her, and she is proudly a member of the LGBTQIA+ community.

Author Website: https://www.jaimieschock.com/

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/jai.schock

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/JaimieNSchock/

Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/heroesgetmade/

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/18982110.Jaimie_N_Schock

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Jaimie-N.-Schock/author/B07THB22QK

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Check Out the latest release : Fayette by Tim Rayborn , 7 Day Blog Tour and Giveaway

Faytte - Tim Rayborn

Tim Rayborn has a new queer fantasy book out, Qwyrk tales book 4: Faytte. And there’s a giveaway.

As Halloween draws near, Qwyrk and company are abruptly reminded of just how screwed-up everything can get. Qwyrk and Holly are literally being driven apart by magical forces they don’t understand, and their friends are in disarray.

Then Holly goes missing and Qwyrk loses something else that’s almost as important, while the behind-the-scenes scheming and shenanigans come to the fore at last. And who is the mysterious, ancient figure in red that seems to know all and see all, but annoyingly, won’t talk about it?

Traitors abound, old friends return, sides will be picked, and the final battle between good and evil will rage. To stop the actual end of the world from happening, Qwyrk might have to make a decision that will change her life forever.

Faytte is the final book in a series of four novels about the comic misadventures of a group of misfits at the edge of normal reality in modern northern England, a world of shadows, Nighttime Nasties in a bakery, a mysterious key, every monster you can imagine, an abundance of sarcasm, and the answers to all the questions. Oh, and Qwyrk is going to definitively prove that she’s not a bloody elf; they’re just silly!

About the Series

Join the adventures of a group of misfits at the edge of reality in modern northern England, a world of shadows, Nighttime Nasties, sorcery, witchy magic, philosophical speculation, every monster under the moon, an abundance of sarcasm, and even elves… though they are a bit silly.

Universal Buy Link

Giveaway

Tim is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this tour:

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Excerpt

Faytte meme

Jilly was skeptical. And grumpy. Skrumpy? In any case, having watched her friends abscond to various places without giving her any details was more than just annoying; it felt rather like a betrayal.

“It’s like they don’t even trust me. Now that I’m learning all about witchery and can finally hold my own, they don’t even want me around anymore. Yeah, really nice, thanks everyone.” She brooded. “Oh, calm down, Jilly, it’s not like they haven’t done rubbish like this before, and there’s always been a good reason for it. And they’ve let you know when the time was right. It’s probably just that again.”

But something about Blip’s behavior in particular bothered her, nagged at her. It had been going on for too long, and he was not one to be secretive. As she sat stewing over it, a thought came to her.

“What if I could spy on him? Check out where he’s going without him realizing? I wonder.” She peered out the living room window across the street. Granny wasn’t home as usual, but Jilly had complete run of her house while she was away. She checked the time: 8:00 pm.

“Mum and dad aren’t going to be home until at least ten, so that only gives me a couple of hours to go on over and poke around. Unless, what if…”

She went back upstairs to her room and found a small book she’d been reading recently: Fludd’s Phenomenal Grimoire of Useful and Slightly Annoying Enchanted Distractions. Leafing through it, she found the page she’d recalled, in a section about how to divert attention from oneself.

“Here it is, brilliant!”

She noted a simple little apotropaism to buy her some more time away at Granny’s. Speaking the two-line spell, she waited just a short while, and sure enough, the sound of mild snoring began to drift through the bedroom. She smiled, satisfied.

“With the light off, they’ll never even think to check in on me! Still, better pile up a few pillows under the duvet, just to be sure.”

Once she’d created a convincing snoring dummy of cushions, she turned out the light and shut the door. Going back downstairs, she grabbed her coat, and hopped off to Granny’s for a good eve­ning’s snooping.

Author Bio

Tim Rayborn

Tim Rayborn has written a rather ridiculous number of books over the past several years (about fifty!). He lived in England for quite some time and has a PhD from the University of Leeds, which he likes to pretend means that he knows what he’s talking about. His generous output of written material covers such diverse topics as music, the arts, history, the strange and bizarre, fantasy and sci-fi, and general knowledge. He’s already planning on writing more books, whether anyone wants him to or not.

He’s also an internationally acclaimed musician. He plays dozens of unusual instruments that quite a few people of have never heard of and often can’t pronounce, including medieval instrument reconstructions and folk instruments from Northern Europe, the Balkans, and the Middle East.

He has appeared on over forty recordings, and his musical wan- derings and tours have taken him across the US, all over Europe, to Canada and Australia, and to such romantic locations as Marrakech, Istanbul, Renaissance chateaux, medieval Italian hill towns, and high school gymnasiums.

He currently lives in Washington State, surrounded by many books and instruments, as well as with a sometimes-demanding cat. He is rather enthusiastic about good wines and cooking excellent food.

Author Website: https://www.timrayborn.com

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/timrayborn

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/TimRaybornMusicandWriting

Author Mastodon: https://mastodon.social/@timrayborn

Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/rayborn.esoterica/

Author Liminal Fiction (LimFic.com): https://www.limfic.com/mbm-book-author/tim-rayborn/

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Tim-Rayborn/author/B00DWY5J8E

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Check out the latest Carnival of Mysteries novel, You Can Do Magic by R. L. Merrill (tour and excerpt)

You Can Do Magic - R.L. Merrill

R.L. Merrill has a new MM rock ‘n roll fantasy/paranormal romance (bi, gay) out in the Carnival of Mysteries shared universe: You Can Do Magic. This is also book three in Merrill’s Summer of Hush series. And there’s a giveaway.

From the author of Foreword Indies Finalist Summer of Hush and BookLife Prize Quarterfinalist Brains and Brawn comes a new installment in the series, a contemporary gay romance with a side of time travel and magic.

Musical prodigy Kallos Alexandrou has played his calliope for countless visitors at Errante Ame’s Carnival of Mysteries, but his one-year residency has come to an end. Scars from a terrible tragedy in his past are the only explanation he has for his loss of speech and memory, but it’s time to move on, so when a music festival sets up next to the carnival, Mr. Ame sends him off with identification, a bottomless billfold, and a set of new clothes. Outside the carnival’s perimeter, Kal finds himself in an unfamiliar world surrounded by strange instruments and vibrant people like nothing he’s ever seen.

Ryan Wells is the troubled and celebrated lead singer of the metal band Backdrop Silhouette. He’s brought more than his share of baggage on the last cross-country Warped Tour, including harsh restrictions placed on him by his parole officer and the band’s label, but it’s the treatment from his bandmates that have him feeling unsettled. After a tough morning, he spots a strange young man playing carnival music on a keyboard backstage, and the sound takes him back to a particularly vulnerable time in his youth. Intrigued, Ryan asks the young man’s name, but he flees only to appear later as a replacement stagehand for the tour.

An invitation from the band Hush to ride on their bus gives Ryan and Kal a welcome distraction. They find the camaraderie and support they’ve both been craving…as well as a little magic and a fresh new romance. But the music business makes personal relationships difficult to maintain, and when the tour ends, Ryan and Kal will have to make a choice: move forward together on an uncertain path, or let fear keep them from trusting that sometimes you really can have everything you desire.

You Can Do Magic is part of the multi-author Carnival of Mysteries Series. Each book stands alone, but each one includes at least one visit to Errante Ame’s Carnival of Mysteries, a magical, multiverse traveling show full of unusual acts, games, and rides. The Carnival changes to suit the world it’s on, so each visit is unique and special. This book contains a Depression-era calliaphone, a Ouija board with a purpose, and tour bus hijinks that will warm your heart and make you gigglesnort. Reading Summer of Hush and Brains and Brawn before this book will give you the full Warped Tour experience, but You Can Do Magic can be read as a standalone as well as the other books in the shared universe. Recommended 18+.

Warnings: Mention of prior sexual abuse, off-page, no descriptions

About the Series

Welcome, everyone, to the Carnival of Mysteries! In this shared element multiverse, we invite you to partake of an array of stories by an eclectic group of authors. You’ll find action, intrigue, mystery, danger, sweetness, and sorrow, but, above all, true love! So grab your ticket, indulge in some treats, experience a few thrills, maybe have your fortune read… there is something for everyone at the Carnival!

Get It On Amazon

Giveaway

R.L. is giving away a $30 Spotify gift card with this tour:

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Excerpt

You Can Do Magic meme - R.L. Merrill

Chapter One
Kal

A new day breaks
Under the blue skies above
A new crowd waits
All they need is a little shove
The Carnival is here
With mysteries galore
To satisfy your cravings
To leave you wanting more
We’re here today, gone the next,
Taking along our magic and song.
Come inside, take a peek
Surprises like these won’t wait long
Here we have the fantastical calliope,
come dance with our talented Kal
His music will delight and seduce you
With the power of the siren’s call
So step right up, and don’t be shy
For his time is coming to a close
Come shimmy and shake with this talented guy
And celebrate the last of his shows…

I’d memorized the ringmaster’s introduction, though it was more sensational than I deserved. And last night’s version had a new ending, one I’d been expecting, but hearing it brought a sliver of anxiety to my bones.

The instrument I played was actually a calliaphone—a more efficient and portable version of the forced-air organ—and I’d built it myself, that much I knew. It was my voice. It spoke all I knew to say, my own words lacking. I possessed the ability to speak, but I’d mostly forgotten how, therefore I preferred to let my music speak for me. I played for the crowds. I smiled for them, but I was transparent to the onlooker.

One year had passed in this way, one year of my life, and I had nothing of my own. No friends to help, no family to love, and no safe place to lay my head away from the carnival. What would I do, where would I go, and would someone see me for me?

The boss, Mr. Ame, told me soon it would be time to move on to the next phase. I’d no clue what that meant other than I would no longer travel with the carnival. There was nothing to pack, nothing to carry, only the clothes—and the scars—I wore on my body. I would miss my calliaphone and the crowds, but I knew it was time. My stay had been healing, educational. My time taught me plenty. The carnival would go on without me and my music, on to the next place to entertain…and seduce the locals. They’d fall under the spell of my fellow travelers. Some might even be chosen to come along.

I remembered little from my time before I, too, had joined the carnival. Humiliation and regret reverberated within the structures of my cells, but I didn’t recall more than that, much less the reason for the debt that forced me into servitude. The boss took me away from the darkness, and promised to set me free one day. But what was free, what would it mean, who would I be? A musician, a man, alone? I’d forgotten my past. I’d learned all I could in this place. Would I survive what lay ahead?

I took my questions to the man in charge, the one they call Errante Ame, and he confirmed that my time with the carnival was at an end.

“My dear, Kallos,” the boss said to me. “The world has done you wrong, not the other way around. You have been a part of something important here, and we shall never forget the joy your music has brought to our clan and our guests. But now it is time for you to move on, as all in the crew must do.

It is your choice where you’ll go once you leave the perimeter, what you will do with the time you have left.

“You have been invisible to our guests for so long, adored for your playing, of course, but who you are remains unseen, unspoken. A blank canvas, a puzzle. Only you can solve the riddle of your life. The time is near when you will set out on your greatest adventure, the journey to find your purpose. Being reborn can be frightening. You will have questions, but the answers you seek can be found within yourself. All you must do is follow your instincts, and your heart’s desire. Do what you feel is right and true. Be good to yourself and your fellow creatures, and walk the path of least harm.

“When the next sun rises, you will step outside the bounds of the carnival. You will have all that you need to begin anew. By the following sunrise, our carnival will have moved on. A traveling music festival will share these grounds with us tomorrow. Perhaps you can start there.”

I knew down deep in my bones that he was correct, that something momentous was about to occur.

Author Bio

R.L. Merrill

Whether she’s writing swoon-worthy contemporary romance featuring quirky, queer, and relatable characters or diving deep into the supernatural to give readers a shiver, R.L. Merrill loves creating compelling stories that will stay with readers long after closing the book. Ro writes inclusive romance for the Happily Ever After collective, contributes paranormal hilarity to Robyn Peterman’s Magic and Mayhem Universe, and pens horror-inspired tales and music reviews for HorrorAddicts.net. A mom, wife, daughter, and former educator, you can find her rocking out in her Bronco with Great Dane pup Velma, being terrorized by feline twins Dracula and Frankenstein, or headbanging at a rock show near her home in the San Francisco Bay Area! Stay Tuned for more…

Author Website: https://www.rlmerrillauthor.com

Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/rochellerlmerrill/

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/rlmerrillauthor

Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/rlmerrillauthor

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/9828914.R_L_Merrill

Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/r-l-merrill/

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/R.L.-Merrill/author/B00PI6Q1LI

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Review: A Priest, A Plague, and A Prophecy by MD Grimm

Rating: 4.5🌈

A Priest, A Plague, and A Prophecy is a new sweet, fantasy romance from M D Grimm. I admit I was overdue in revisiting this author and this short tale of two enemies, a inter species, happy ending of a Romeo and Jules sort of situation, was a perfect intro back into her writing.

Grimm has built a world of humans and orcs, living close enough that their encounters with each other haven’t gone for the better. Over the years their clashes have grown worse,their basic fears about each other’s races fed by completely different appearances, as well as an inability to communicate due to separate languages and cultures. Their skirmishes grew larger each time, offensively more bloody , due to the size , physicality and style of their fighting , until all each knows is hatred.

It’s not until a fumbling young priest called Eli meets a young orc called Gurrkk in trouble that everything starts to change.

It’s in the rich details as well as the emotional landscape that this story does so well. The author’s ability to convey two people of separate races, determined to understand each other, under enormous stress, then through friendship and finally love. We get all the different cultural elements, language, mating, bonding, children, religion,and leadership.

Grimm has deeply settled her characters within their respective communities and families, and that allows her readers to explore them on a really personal level.

This is a romance between two characters that look at sexuality in a different way. How they handle that difference is another plus for me in the narrative. While it may have an initial aspect of hesitation to discuss the subject, that doesn’t stop the characters from being adults and talking about their sexual preferences and orientation. Especially important where two species are involved.

The ending ( and the bit with the villain) came about a tad too fast. I wished for more action and explanation to compete with all the grand exposition that went before. And time with the two groups together.

Ah well!

A Priest, A Plague, and A Prophecy by MD Grimm is a richly told, happily ended , well written fantasy story! One I’m absolutely recommending.

Buy Link:

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Smashwords

Amazon

Description:

Orcs are the answer but what is the question?”

Elias is a priest at the Temple of the Divine Sibyl. When he becomes lost in the woods after his brother’s hunting party abandons him, it’s just his luck that he’d stumble upon an angry orc caught in a trap. Unable to stomach the suffering of others, Elias throws self-preservation to the wind and frees the orc. Then Gurrkk—that’s a name?—ends up leading him to safety.

Gurrkk finds himself rather smitten by the sweet, awkward human. He’s always been fascinated with his people’s sworn enemy, and now he has a life debt to fulfill to maintain his honor.

Hiding an orc among the temple’s crypts wouldn’t have been Elias’s first choice but Gurrkk is stubborn about leaving. As they learn each other’s languages and spend more time together, Elias realizes they’ve become friends… and maybe more. And when the dying sibyl gives her last prophecy, Elias knows it wasn’t chance that brought them together, it was the gods.