Tag Archives: Shyla Colt

by | March 18, 2022 · 5:00 am

Dawn of the Fire Elemental Virtual Book Tour

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Romantic Fantasy

Date Published: February 14, 2022

Publisher: Inspired Ink

 

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Celeste

My friends were stolen by the Fae. Their presence has been all but erased
from the internet, and their absence was explained away to family and
friends. Seeing the minds of grief-stricken parents completely altered drove
home how dangerous the path I’m traveling is. Still, I won’t
give up until I locate Elia and Roan. Even if the other member of our found
family, Glenn, is too scared to act. Digging further into their
disappearance, I use my magic and connections to seek knowledge and forge a
relationship with the mysterious beings that have terrified me my entire
life. Astral travel has opened my universe up. The teachers I’m forced
to trust will be my ruin or a crash course in survival in the deadly realm
I’m determined to breach.

 

Alun

I never imagined the silly witch with traces of Fae blood would end up
being my mate. I’ll protect her at all costs, even against herself.
Bickering with the woman who comes into a power that rivals my own wakes
more than my dormant emotions. Fire licks at my skin and races through my
veins, engulfing us and fueling our muscles. The child of the Holly King has
died, and the Summer Court will soon follow. I’m not sure the realm on
the brink of civil war and destruction should be saved. If my mate
doesn’t take the place of the fallen, the lands will go dark.
Threatened by our rise, we’re attacked by dark powers who have no idea
the depths I’ll sink to in order to keep what’s mine safe.

Dawn of the Fire Elemental tablet

 EXCERPT

“I need proof,” Celeste whispered.  

His mother turned her attention to him. “Al, take her to the Autumn court. But keep your distance.” 

He reached out to his brother. Kheelan, I’ll be visiting your territory briefly. Pay no heed. I’m fulfilling one of the mother’s requests.” 

And here, I’d hoped my younger brother was simply coming to visit me. 

Alun smirked. Soon.

Clapping his hands, he ripped open the fabric of reality. He could see his brother with a tall, golden-skinned woman with curly green hair and black wings through the gap. If it wasn’t for her curved ears, he might’ve wondered if she truly was one of their kind. Leave it to Kheelan to find someone so unique. The two strolled through the forest alive with reds, oranges, and golds. His new sister’s red dress boasted a leaf pattern in the same fall motif. Kheelan looked like a proper gentleman for once in his green velvet suit with a white cravat. I suppose one must up their game when dating a Queen. Does that make him the King? Amused, he turned to Celeste. She drank in the couple like a dehydrated woman at an oasis. 

“How do I know I can trust him?” Celeste whispered, never taking her gaze from the couple walking. 

“Paranoid little thing, aren’t you?” 

“Wise,” she countered. 

“Like an old owl?” He arched a brow. 

She narrowed her eyes, and he chuckled. He enjoyed her fire.  This was just the distraction he needed. 

“Like a survivor,” she said. 

“The one left standing, in the end, knows themselves inside and out. Can you say that?” It was a challenge. Her face hardened, and her spine straightened. 

“I will,” she vowed. This was a commitment he could work with. 

“We should start immediately.” A rectangle outlined in flames appeared, showing a glimpse of a forest made up of cool blues and greens.

“You first,” Celeste said stubbornly.  He laughed. She had no clue who he was. People kneeled and bowed at his feet.  He would enjoy breaking her down and building her up stronger. She would never make the same mistakes he did because he wouldn’t allow it. This was his chance at redemption. He’d be for her, what he never had; a guiding point, an anchor in a sea of confusing madness. 

 

 

About the Author

Shyla Colt

USA Today Bestselling author Shyla Colt is a chaos wrangler, chronic
crafter, and imaginary friend collector. The mom of two and a wife road
trips with her weird brood when she’s not taking on a new hobby or bingeing
on spooky podcasts and documentaries. She writes strong women with sass,
plenty of nerdy tendencies, and the intriguing intense males who love them.
She can be reached at www.shylacolt.net

  

Contact Links

Website

Facebook

Twitter: @shylacolt

Goodreads

Instagram

 

Purchase Link

Amazon

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by | January 25, 2022 · 5:00 am

Soulless Virtual Book Tour

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Kings of Chaos MC, Book 9

 

Contemporary Romance

Date Published: 01-21-2002

 

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Warp

Life taught me not to trust. Family betrayal cuts the deepest of all, and
my kin’s given me plenty of reasons to go by my road name
“Warped.” A Nomad, I make a point of not getting too attached.
Then I become a godfather, and my wall begins to crumble. Against all odds,
their godmother, Jess, would infiltrate my defenses with a fiery kiss that
shows me I can have everything I’m not worthy of. A better man would
let her go, but she’s become a light in the impending darkness
encircling me as my past rises from its grave and refuses to let go.

 

Jess

I spent my life chasing after my dreams and defying the small-minded views
of my tiny southern town. When I saw a chance at a life in California, I
took it. I never imagined a tattooed biker with dark eyes full of malice
would play a starring role in my fantasies. I knew he was off-limits, but
too much to drink has me crossing lines and set things into motion I never
thought possible. The connection we share is something I’ll risk
everything for.

 

Is this a new beginning or the breaking point?

 

Soulless tablet

Excerpt

“Come here,” I demand. 

Her eyes grow round, and she gives a slight shake of her head, remaining where she is against the hallway. 

“Now, Bambi,” I say slowly. 

She sucks her bottom lip in and walks forward tentatively. Her heels click over the wood flooring, and I peer down at the strappy, gold sandals and groan. They’d feel good digging into my back. I’m sick of ignoring what’s between us. If  I end up going to Mexico and never return; it’ll be on my own terms. 

“Close the door.” 

Her hand trembles as she presses the wooden door with a deafening click. 

“I tried to be a good guy and do the right thing.” I grasp my knee with my hands to keep from grabbing her. Tightening and loosening my hold, I can’t take my eyes off her. “I wanted to give you a chance to escape. But it’s too late for that. Nothing has changed. And I’m a selfish man who lives a dangerous life. So I never fuck around when it matters.” 

She swallows loudly and licks her lips. 

“I heard you went on a date.” 

“It …” She shakes her head. “We didn’t work out.” 

“That’s real good, Jess. ’Cause I would’ve broken his damn neck.” 

Flinching, she shakes her head. “Y-You said—” 

“Fuck what I said.” I crook my finger, and she walks in front of me. “I’m a bastard. A child born out of wedlock. My parents were never married, but they had a toxic bond that kept them together. When I was young, they used to take me to do robberies. I could fit into all the places they couldn’t, and a lost child makes for one hell of a distraction.” 

“Wa—” 

“Don’t speak.” If I don’t get it all out now, I’ll never do it.

Her head bobs in agreement, and I continue, “They were junkies. All they cared about was getting their next high. There were plenty of times when we didn’t have enough food or a decent roof over our heads. I wish those memories were a blur, but I can remember the sharp pains of hunger and the desperation that comes with doing anything necessary to survive. I didn’t even start school until I was seven because I was too valuable. Plus, they didn’t want to be tracked by the government. 

“I was always aware of how much of an inconvenience they saw me as. I learned early how to fend for myself. I was cooking for myself and keeping a stash of money I slept with for food. It was a place where you had to work hard to survive. Once we settled into a town and Dad learned to be a functioning addict, when I was eight, the beatings started. He laid into Mom and me like it was a new hobby. The sick bastard got off on it. I think he liked our pain just as much as he did the smack. Mom did more and more drugs to numb herself out. Then she settled on heroin, and shit went downhill fast. 

“When I was ten, I came home from school and found Dad beating her. She was already bloodied and limp. I couldn’t tell if she was passed out or dead. His face was demonic. His eyes were black, and he had a wide grin that was too big for his face. I called out. Told him he was going to kill her, and he didn’t even look at me. So, I went to their bedroom and got a gun. I walked back out, threatening him.” 

I keep talking, ignoring the lump forming in my throat. “He laughed. When he hit her again, and the blood splatter coated his face and the white wifebeater he was wearing, I pulled the trigger. It shot him dead in the forehead. I didn’t mean to. I was supposed to frighten him.” I tremble, still remembering the way his body jerked, the light extinguishing his body, and the spray of brain matter as the bullet exited his skull. “My uncles came over and dragged him away. It wasn’t spoken of again in clear words, but my mother made it clear I ruined her life. That she would’ve rather I be the one who died. She hated me. That I was wrong to interfere. Her heroin use spiraled out of control after that.” Breathing hard, I can still see the imagery as clear as the day it all occurred. My stomach bubbles. “So, you see, I’ve always been a killer. It’s what I know how to do. You might even say it comes naturally.” 

She gives a sound of protest. 

“It’s why I avoid attachments. They haven’t ended up well for me. When my mother OD’ed, I was taken to live with my uncle. He seemed decent for the first six months. Things were better— there was plenty of food and attention. I thought I’d have a better life. Then the late-night visits started.” My stomach lurches. “You can fill in the blanks ’cause you’re a smart girl. You understand why I don’t do intimacy. Kissing disgusts me, but the minute you put those pouty lips on me, you cracked my soul wide open. The rotten core I thought died years ago had a little left, and you breathed life directly into it.” 

I look up and meet her tear-filled eyes. “You woke the beast and turned him into some fresh new monster. Where I’m going, I need my wits about me. I can’t be worried about what you’re getting into here.” 

“Are you asking me to wait for you?” 

“Maybe? I can’t give you promises. I’m being pulled in too many different directions right now. I don’t make promises I can’t keep.” I won’t beg. But I’m hoping for the first time in a long time. “I can say we’ll talk about it when I get back.” 

Stepping forward between my legs, she cups my face. “I feel it, too, War. The pull, the attraction and sense of rightness.” She closes her eyes and rests her forehead against mine. “I don’t want to keep fighting what’s not going away.” 

“Then don’t.” 

About the Author

Shyla Colt

USA Today Bestselling author Shyla Colt is a chaos wrangler, chronic
crafter, and imaginary friend collector. The mom of two and a wife road
trips with her weird brood when she’s not taking on a new hobby or bingeing
on spooky podcasts and documentaries. She writes strong women with sass,
plenty of nerdy tendencies, and the intriguing intense males who love them.
She can be reached at www.shylacolt.net

 

 Contact Links

Website

Facebook

Twitter: @shylacolt

Goodreads

Instagram

 

Purchase Links

Amazon

 

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RABT Book Tours & PR

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by | · 5:00 am

Soulless Virtual Book Tour

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Kings of Chaos MC, Book 9

 

Contemporary Romance

Date Published: 01-21-2002

 

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Warp

Life taught me not to trust. Family betrayal cuts the deepest of all, and
my kin’s given me plenty of reasons to go by my road name
“Warped.” A Nomad, I make a point of not getting too attached.
Then I become a godfather, and my wall begins to crumble. Against all odds,
their godmother, Jess, would infiltrate my defenses with a fiery kiss that
shows me I can have everything I’m not worthy of. A better man would
let her go, but she’s become a light in the impending darkness
encircling me as my past rises from its grave and refuses to let go.

 

Jess

I spent my life chasing after my dreams and defying the small-minded views
of my tiny southern town. When I saw a chance at a life in California, I
took it. I never imagined a tattooed biker with dark eyes full of malice
would play a starring role in my fantasies. I knew he was off-limits, but
too much to drink has me crossing lines and set things into motion I never
thought possible. The connection we share is something I’ll risk
everything for.

 

Is this a new beginning or the breaking point?

 

Soulless tablet

EXCERPT

“Come here,” I demand. 

Her eyes grow round, and she gives a slight shake of her head, remaining where she is against the hallway. 

“Now, Bambi,” I say slowly. 

She sucks her bottom lip in and walks forward tentatively. Her heels click over the wood flooring, and I peer down at the strappy, gold sandals and groan. They’d feel good digging into my back. I’m sick of ignoring what’s between us. If  I end up going to Mexico and never return; it’ll be on my own terms. 

“Close the door.” 

Her hand trembles as she presses the wooden door with a deafening click. 

“I tried to be a good guy and do the right thing.” I grasp my knee with my hands to keep from grabbing her. Tightening and loosening my hold, I can’t take my eyes off her. “I wanted to give you a chance to escape. But it’s too late for that. Nothing has changed. And I’m a selfish man who lives a dangerous life. So I never fuck around when it matters.” 

She swallows loudly and licks her lips. 

“I heard you went on a date.” 

“It …” She shakes her head. “We didn’t work out.” 

“That’s real good, Jess. ’Cause I would’ve broken his damn neck.” 

Flinching, she shakes her head. “Y-You said—” 

“Fuck what I said.” I crook my finger, and she walks in front of me. “I’m a bastard. A child born out of wedlock. My parents were never married, but they had a toxic bond that kept them together. When I was young, they used to take me to do robberies. I could fit into all the places they couldn’t, and a lost child makes for one hell of a distraction.” 

“Wa—” 

“Don’t speak.” If I don’t get it all out now, I’ll never do it.

Her head bobs in agreement, and I continue, “They were junkies. All they cared about was getting their next high. There were plenty of times when we didn’t have enough food or a decent roof over our heads. I wish those memories were a blur, but I can remember the sharp pains of hunger and the desperation that comes with doing anything necessary to survive. I didn’t even start school until I was seven because I was too valuable. Plus, they didn’t want to be tracked by the government. 

“I was always aware of how much of an inconvenience they saw me as. I learned early how to fend for myself. I was cooking for myself and keeping a stash of money I slept with for food. It was a place where you had to work hard to survive. Once we settled into a town and Dad learned to be a functioning addict, when I was eight, the beatings started. He laid into Mom and me like it was a new hobby. The sick bastard got off on it. I think he liked our pain just as much as he did the smack. Mom did more and more drugs to numb herself out. Then she settled on heroin, and shit went downhill fast. 

“When I was ten, I came home from school and found Dad beating her. She was already bloodied and limp. I couldn’t tell if she was passed out or dead. His face was demonic. His eyes were black, and he had a wide grin that was too big for his face. I called out. Told him he was going to kill her, and he didn’t even look at me. So, I went to their bedroom and got a gun. I walked back out, threatening him.” 

I keep talking, ignoring the lump forming in my throat. “He laughed. When he hit her again, and the blood splatter coated his face and the white wifebeater he was wearing, I pulled the trigger. It shot him dead in the forehead. I didn’t mean to. I was supposed to frighten him.” I tremble, still remembering the way his body jerked, the light extinguishing his body, and the spray of brain matter as the bullet exited his skull. “My uncles came over and dragged him away. It wasn’t spoken of again in clear words, but my mother made it clear I ruined her life. That she would’ve rather I be the one who died. She hated me. That I was wrong to interfere. Her heroin use spiraled out of control after that.” Breathing hard, I can still see the imagery as clear as the day it all occurred. My stomach bubbles. “So, you see, I’ve always been a killer. It’s what I know how to do. You might even say it comes naturally.” 

She gives a sound of protest. 

“It’s why I avoid attachments. They haven’t ended up well for me. When my mother OD’ed, I was taken to live with my uncle. He seemed decent for the first six months. Things were better— there was plenty of food and attention. I thought I’d have a better life. Then the late-night visits started.” My stomach lurches. “You can fill in the blanks ’cause you’re a smart girl. You understand why I don’t do intimacy. Kissing disgusts me, but the minute you put those pouty lips on me, you cracked my soul wide open. The rotten core I thought died years ago had a little left, and you breathed life directly into it.” 

I look up and meet her tear-filled eyes. “You woke the beast and turned him into some fresh new monster. Where I’m going, I need my wits about me. I can’t be worried about what you’re getting into here.” 

“Are you asking me to wait for you?” 

“Maybe? I can’t give you promises. I’m being pulled in too many different directions right now. I don’t make promises I can’t keep.” I won’t beg. But I’m hoping for the first time in a long time. “I can say we’ll talk about it when I get back.” 

Stepping forward between my legs, she cups my face. “I feel it, too, War. The pull, the attraction and sense of rightness.” She closes her eyes and rests her forehead against mine. “I don’t want to keep fighting what’s not going away.” 

“Then don’t.” 

 

 

About the Author

Shyla Colt

USA Today Bestselling author Shyla Colt is a chaos wrangler, chronic
crafter, and imaginary friend collector. The mom of two and a wife road
trips with her weird brood when she’s not taking on a new hobby or bingeing
on spooky podcasts and documentaries. She writes strong women with sass,
plenty of nerdy tendencies, and the intriguing intense males who love them.
She can be reached at www.shylacolt.net

 

 Contact Links

Website

Facebook

Twitter: @shylacolt

Goodreads

Instagram

 

Purchase Links

Amazon

 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

RABT Book Tours & PR

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by | May 28, 2021 · 5:00 am

His Sister’s Best Friend Blitz

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Contemporary Romance

 

Date Published: 03-29-2021

Solomon

The man of the house since my father’s death at sixteen, I knew I’d be the guardian for my sister, Susan, who has Down syndrome. However, I didn’t realize I’d become her guardian while dealing with my mother’s mini-strokes, rehabilitation, and selling the family home. I’m drowning in paperwork and emotions as I try to get Susan adjusted. A new care plan and a specialized school act as light at the end of the tunnel. I never expected to find her new best friend at the school was my old high school crush.

Ezra

I always regretted keeping my feelings for Solomon to myself. When we became the victims of losing touch in college, I added it to my list of regrets. Now he’s back as the guardian of a student, and the years have been exceedingly kind. My habit of following rules is suddenly out the window. Risking the reputation I’ve worked so hard to gain isn’t on my to-do list.

Can we manage a relationship without it becoming a conflict of interest?

About the Author

Shyla Colt


USA Today Bestselling author Shyla Colt is a chaos wrangler, chronic crafter, and imaginary friend collector. The mom of two and a wife road trips with her weird brood when she’s not taking on a new hobby or bingeing on spooky podcasts and documentaries. She writes strong women with sass, plenty of nerdy tendencies, and the intriguing intense males who love them.

You can interact with Shyla Colt online via her website

www.shylacolt.net

Contact Links

Facebook

Twitter: @shylacolt

Instagram

Goodreads

Purchase Link

Amazon

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by | August 28, 2018 · 5:00 am

Bad Blood – Blitz

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Urban Fantasy
Date Published: Sept 28th, 2018
Publisher: Inspired Ink ( Self published)
A reluctant knight.
A magical descendent.
A race against time.
A freak accident thrusts Nakeeta Alva into a dangerous world of secrets, ancient spells, and a legacy she never wanted. The last in a magical line, she’s tasked with restoring the balance to a supernatural world poised for ruin.
Tasked with the care of their savior, Crewe’s main focus is survival. Used to giving orders, the knight isn’t prepared for the sassy witch’s mouth or her lure. The powerful woman reminded him of his humanity and challenged his beliefs. Keeping her safe is his mission, but the real danger may be losing his heart.
Together, they will save the world … or die trying.
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Excerpt
Let me get you some water.” Her mother hurried off as she acclimated herself with the waking world. How long have I been here? Her mother returned with a large, pink plastic cup with a straw. “Let’s get you sitting up.” Her mother hit the button and slowly pushed her up into an upright position.
“Better?”
“Yes,” she rasped.
“Here you are.” She held the cup out, and she wrapped her lips around a straw and sucked the cool water down her sore throat. The relief drew a hum from her throat. Pulling away, Keeta cleared her throat.
“I’m so sorry. Times run out,” her mother whispered.
“What are you talking about, Mom?” She furrowed her brow.
“We did our best to protect you, Keeta. Growing up we tried to keep you away from all things magical, but the power ran too deep. The spirits tried to tell me, but I was too stubborn to listen. You were my child, and I wanted the best for you. Your magic was a part of you that refused to be ignored or denied. So, we switched gears, tried to prepare you for what we knew would come, and hid you for as long as we could. I knew the moment I saw you and looked into your eyes you were the one our family had prophesied about.”
“Hid me from what?” Is this some sort of fever dream? Am I still in a comma?
“Everyone who would use you as a weapon.” Her mother’s whisper was full of sorrow and desperation.
“Use me? Mom, you’re not making any sense.” Exasperated, she huffed. Her body ached, and her head felt barely attached to her shoulders. A combination of the powerful medication and exhaustion that came from healing warped her perception. A hazy recollection of a dream tugged at her. What was I supposed to remember? Her brain protested the strain with a dull throbbing at her temples that stopped her from thinking too hard.
Her mother held her hand. “You’re different.”
“Yes, like our entire family is,” Keeta replied, unsure of what her mother wished to convey. She’d never been the type to beat around the bush before. Why hesitate now?
“Yes, but you have power. A scary amount of it. Things have always been drawn to you. Even with us cloaking you to dampen your light, it shone so brightly.” She closed her eyes and shook her head. “We tried to do right by you, Keeta. Now I’m not sure we were right.”
“Mom, you’re scaring me.” Her voice warbled.
“Destiny will only be denied so long, baby. Yours is at hand.”
Her stomach knotted. The storm that had been threatening overhead was finally breaking.
“Our family is made up of more than powerful magic workers. We descend from a long lineage of gifted magical beings. It goes back further than you can imagine, and some of the spells created and cast changed the shape of the world as we know it.” She glanced around nervously. “I’m not sure how much time we have. You’re a part of a bigger plan, Keeta. The laws keeping humans safe are crumbling into themselves. You can help change that. I won’t tell you it’ll be easy, or comfortable, but it’s necessary. If I could take this burden from you, I would.” She shook her head. “But it wasn’t meant for me.”
“I don’t understand. What am I supposed to do? Why?” Keeta shook her head. She’d never seen her mother this distraught. Dark circles ringed her puffy red eyes. Regret and apprehension stiffened her muscles and turned her dark brown eyes nearly black.
“I want to tell you more.” Her mother bowed her head. Her mouth clamped shut as if it’d been glued together. “Mmm. Mmmm.” She struggled to speak. Her face turned purple.
“Mom?” She gripped the blankets hard and leaned forward. “Breathe!”
Her mother gasped, greedily sucking in air as her slender form trembled. Tears rolled down her face in a steady stream of salty water. “I can’t. God help me, I can’t.” Her anguished cries sliced at Keeta’s heart.
“You can’t what?” she whimpered, feeling her mother’s pain as her own.
Exasperated, her mother threw her hands into the air and shook her head so hard she thought she might strain a muscle. “T-the d-deal,” she stuttered, stumbling over her words
“What deal?” Her stomach plummeted, and her heartbeat spiked. The monitors beeped nosily in response.
“The one she made to save your life,” a masculine voice answered from the doorway.
Her spine stiffened. The room felt too small. She shrank back against her pillow. His aura was dark and powerful. Nearly six-foot with pale blond hair, crystalline blue eyes, and cheekbones that could draw blood, he oozed strength and dominance.
Predator. He slammed against the wall, pinned into place. She gasped. Did I do that?
“Nakeeta!” her mother hissed.
She’d never been able to manifest her powers this way. She trembled. Images of the powerful medicine man and his words filled her brain. A headache burst through her head.
“Stop this,” her mother demanded.
I don’t know how. She wouldn’t share that weakness in front of this—
His eyes flashed red.
Vampire.
About the Author

photo 0012_zpsjqw0ene9.jpg

Shyla Colt is the sassy USA Today Bestselling author of the popular series Kings of Chaos and Dueling Devils M.C. This genre-hoppers stories feature three of her favorite things: strong females, pop culture, and alternate routes to happy ever after. Listening to her Romani soul, she pens from the heart, allowing the dynamic characters, eccentric interests, and travels as a former flight attendant to take her down untraveled roads.
Born and raised in Cincinnati, Ohio, this mid-west girl is proud of her roots. She used her hometown and the surrounding areas as a backdrop for a number of books. So, if you’re a Buckeye, keep an eye out for familiar places.
As a full-time writer, stay at home mother, and wife, there’s never a dull moment in her household.
She weaves her tales in spare moments and the evenings with a cup of coffee or tea at her side and the characters in her head for company.
 
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