Category Archives: BOOKS

Snoodles in Space- Episode 2 Virtual Book Tour

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The Zoodles Strike Back

 

Children’s Books

Date Published: August 1, 2024

Publisher: Enigami Publishing

 

 

In the award-winning book “Snoodles in Space”, Steven Joseph
and Andy Case brought us further adventures of Herbie Snoodleman and Sour
Croodle-man exploring the universe and battling the Zoodle Kidoodles for the
Earth’s entire supply of noodles.

In this third instalment of the Snoodles series, the Zoodles are determined
to have revenge and with the help of a grimy millionaire whose fallen on
hard times, they intend to poison the Earth’s water supply and turn
everyone into Willy Nilly’s and Dilly Dally’s.

Can Briana and Ricky save the Earth again? Will the outcast kids on the
other side of the track rise to the challenge and help save the world?

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Snoodles in Space – Episode 2 excerpt

 

 

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Goblin Girl Blitz

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Empire of the Sky, Book 4

Steampunk Romance

Date Published: 7/26/24

Publisher: Changeling Press

 


 

 

Nancy Lea is the Lunarian envoy to Queen Victoria. She and Jacob McCleary
come to Earth with a deadly warning from Mon Ilson, the Emperor of Space. At
an isolated airfield in the midst of a raging storm, Nancy is cruelly
mistaken for the murderous Lady Neva Talbot-Rhys. Nancy is interrogated by
the Queen’s Agent, the witch Felicity Cressy. To keep her off guard,
Felicity employs an unorthodox strategy. She introduces the dashing Captain
Jaimee Dalgliesh to the alien in human form. His mission is to seduce Nancy,
but can he avoid being seduced in turn?

Goblin Girl continues the Cressida Troy saga in which an unprepared world
faces alien invasion. In a time where airships are commonplace, and
witchcraft plays a crucial role in Queen Victoria’s empire, Goblin Girl is a
steamy adventure in the strange but curiously familiar universe of what
could have been.

 

 

Excerpt

Copyright ©2024 Mikala Ash

 

Nancy Lea

1867 A Goblin Girl Goes to Earth

 

It was a rough descent. Inside the capsule, Jacob and I were pressed
together in the contoured couch, hip to hip, and shoulder to shoulder. The
belts that held me securely in place as we were jostled about bit through my
one-piece flying costume and would surely leave bruises. We were riding a
human test vehicle which we had captured some time ago. Jacob had been the
pilot and had been our prisoner until he reluctantly agreed to be Mon
Ilson’s envoy. I was to carry my emperor’s voice to the
queen.

Jacob was wearing a leather flying cap and green filtered goggles and
looked quite amphibian as his gaze shifted from side to side. He was closely
monitoring the gauges and dials on the control panel and manipulated the
various levers that controlled the ship’s buoyancy. Occasionally he
would glance at me, and the visible part of his face split in a broad grin.
He was excited to be returning home.

By Mon Ilson’s magic, the churning storm camouflaged our arrival.
Barely two minutes before, we’d been released by the Lunarian airship
and were descending at a rapid rate toward the Lizard Peninsula on the
Cornish coast. Our ship, little more than a spherical steel ball barely ten
feet wide, bucked and swayed at the mercy of the tempest. I bit my lower
lip, imagining the gale that raged on the other side of the vessel’s
thin shell, just a few inches from my head.

Jacob was adjusting the controls to release helium gas from our envelope so
that we landed as close as we could to the designated airfield. Timing was
of the essence if we were not to be blown too far off course. A violent wind
gust rocked us, and I clutched Jacob’s arm.

“Chin up, Goblin Girl. We’ll be on solid ground
soon.”

The appellation took me back to the first occasion he called me by that
vile name. At the time I knew he’d intended it as an insult.
We’d been “fucking like ferrets” as he described our
frequent coupling, and I was panting frantically in the aftermath of a
thundering climax.

“Why do you call me that?” I had asked resentfully once my
breathing had calmed.

“Goblin Girl?” His smile as he chucked my chin was annoyingly
patronising. “My dear,” he began, his tone mocking. “I
know inside that pretty little human head is a leather-skinned goblin, like
those stone gargoyles perched high up on a cathedral wall. You have huge
yellow eyes, slimy slits for nostrils cut in a grey face as flat as an
anvil. Rows of pin-sharp teeth hide behind knife-edged lips. You have bony
shoulders, and muscled arms like knotted wood, so powerful you could snap a
human neck. Not to forget the pair of oily black wings like those of a
demonic bat, equipped with a half dozen razor-tipped talons, and ugly
gnarled feet! For God’s sake, don’t get me started on your
feet!”

I would be lying to pretend it hadn’t hurt, but his description of
our — yes, my — natural form was accurate. What cut deeper was that
he’d use those words to hurt me while his pearly seed dripped from my
very bruised and unmistakably human cunt. I had given him the most hateful
of glares and stuck out my tongue.

He laughed. “That’s the spirit! On occasion you act so human.
Sometimes I quite forget.”

“I don’t want you to forget.”

“Why do you say so?”

“I want you to love me for myself, my soul, not my outward form
whatever it takes.”

“Huh! Beauty is only skin deep as they say. Is that what you mean?
Are you sure you want to go down that thorny trail?”

My feelings were hurt, still an odd sensation, and I didn’t yet know
when to stop. “Perhaps.”

Jacob knitted his brow. “Why on Earth do you want me to love you?
Don’t answer that. I know you are just following orders and will say
anything to get inside my head.” His expression had changed, from mild
curiosity to utter contempt.

“I wonder you can bring yourself to lie with me if that is what you
believe.”

Jacob shrugged. “A man has urges. I can’t control the call, the
quickening of the blood, or deny the demanding reality of my hard cock. That
body you have stolen, killed for, I should say, would get a rise out of any
man — alive or dead! Your human covering is just an empty vessel, somewhere
to dump my seed.” He glared at me, his eyes as hard as flint, and I
saw the hatred behind them. Then they softened. “Ah, don’t do
that.”

He wiped the tear away with his thumb. The gentle action broke the dam, and
there followed a flood.

“Ah, my Goblin Girl… come here!” He held me close, his
heart thudding in his chest, his warm breath upon my cheek. “I’m
a beast too. There’s no denying it.”

Later, after he’d ploughed my furrow once again and jetted more seed
into my human cunt, he held me tight. “Why?” he asked after a
few moments.

“Why what?”

His gaze took in my quivering form. “All this. Why did you give up
your natural body for this human one? Marjorie was so in love with hers
she’d do anything to get it back, even murder and treason. Why are you
lot not attached to your form?”

He was referring to Marjorie, a nascent witch whose body had been taken
from its grave and later adopted. Her soul found sanctuary in Cressida
Troy’s mind until Mon Ilson enabled her to return to her body for
helping Cressida kill the human scientist, Fleur Cumberland. Now Marjorie
was our most powerful agent on Earth.

Jacob had thumped his naked chest. “My attachment to this weak and
breakable frame was so strong it allowed me to survive after my soul had
been wrenched away.” He took my chin between thumb and forefinger.
“You chose to do this,” he continued, forcing me to justify
myself. “Why?”

Why indeed? “I do not regret it.”

“I’ve noticed, and that’s what I don’t understand.
Have you all been mesmerised by Mon Ilson to deny your love of your natural
form?”

“I have not!”

“Then why? I want to understand. It’s no small thing to give up
your body, no matter how grotesque it is.”

“We do not see ourselves so,” I countered.

His brow furrowed with incomprehension. “Then why? You could fly, for
God’s sake!”

“It is hard to express. It is too easy to say, as many will, I did it
because Mon Ilson commanded it. Those words are just a public display of
loyalty. As wonderful achievements as our cities are, the selfish reason is
we are heartily sick of existing underground. We want to live under a wide
blue sky rather than a roof of stone, feel fragrant wind on our cheeks
rather than a sterile breeze from a fan, to bask in the summer sun and have
our faces tanned, impossible under cold artificial light. We want to swim in
the ocean and feel mud squish between our toes. We want to make love, to
feel a kiss and take pleasure in it, to quiver with a soft caress, and be
overwhelmed by the glorious sensations of making love.”

 

About the Author

Aussie Mikala Ash used to be a mild-mannered training & development
consultant by day, and a wild sci-fi and paranormal adventure writer by
night. Now she is a brazen full-time writer and nature photographer who is
concentrating on having among other things, “… bags, and bags
of fun!” Mikala can be found on Facebook and on Twitter.

 

Author on Facebook

Author on Twitter

 

Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok:
@changelingpress

 

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Wrinkled Rebels Virtual Book Tour

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Literary Novel / Historical Fiction

Date Published: 07-23-2024

Publisher: Vine Leaves Press

 

 

Now 80 years old, retirement and advanced age have dissipated the spirit of
six college radicals of the 1960s, who jointly had participated in civil
rights campaigns and anti-war protests. Having engaged in only periodic
communication over the decades, they suddenly receive an invitation to
reunite for an extended weekend. Struggling with whether to go, each of them
has divergent qualms and expectations for the proposed gathering.

During their three days together, they confront their inner demons, each
other, and their future. Does Rebecca, the prime mover of the event, find
solace after losing her wife and career? Can Malaika regain her sense of
self after stepping down from her successful law practice? Mourning the loss
of her youthful athletic prowess and attractiveness, what happens when
Deanna faces her old friends?

Struggling with two divorces and a failing marriage, can Russell attain
peace of mind? How will Max, an expat living in Canada, manage with his
incipient dementia? Will the demoralized Keith recover his idealism?

Wrinkled Rebels is a story of how six people achieve meaningful lives
through the struggle for social justice. It is also a tale of love, the
bonds of friendship, and growing old positively.

 

Wrinkled Rebels tablet

EXCERPT

  • Rebecca walks into the condo’s large kitchen and looks at the heap of unopened 

retirement cards on the table. She flips through the envelopes and grimaces, knowing that they will express some variation of “Best Wishes on Your Retirement” in assorted designs and colors. She doesn’t intend to open any of them. They were probably glad to get rid of her, she reflects. Rebecca had felt the pressure from the younger organizers. She was not up to par anymore. Too old-fashioned in her ways. Taking up space in the upper ranks that they were anxious to fill.

She runs her fingers through her short, thinning white curls as she considers her situation. She used to have her life in order. Each piece had been painstakingly assembled by the time she was forty. Political activist, union organizer, daughter, and part of a couple. Later, when Susan was stricken with cancer, she had added caregiver. The construction seemed indestructible, as though it would last forever. She had counted on each part to keep her grounded, to make her existence meaningful. It wasn’t easy to keep everything in harmony, and she wasn’t always successful. But then everything had fallen apart, one by one. Ultimately, only her work recharged her, at least for a while. She had been too busy to nurture friendships, to do the heavy lifting to keep relationships afloat. 

Rebecca swallows hard. Now she is alone and lonely. She muses about old age and its victims, those who suffer from chronic illness or dementia, or who pass away—

and their grief-stricken loved ones, like her. She has lost her mother, father, and mate, the most important people in her life, except for Max and the gang. She wonders how they are faring in their advanced years.

Suddenly, she wants him. She craves all of them. Their friendship had been such an integral part of her youth. She paces the kitchen and then darts back into the bedroom, pulls open the closet door, and rummages around until she finds the frayed cardboard box tucked away in a back corner. The container is bursting with photos of her old comrades—several fading. She bites her lip and reproaches herself for neglecting to put them in albums, certain that most people would have taken the time to preserve them better. 

Hands trembling, she inspects a stack of them, lingering on several pictures from the summer of 1965, following their second year at City College. They had volunteered for Project Uplift (PUL), an experimental summer anti-poverty project in Central Harlem. The venture had been sponsored by Harlem Youth Opportunities Unlimited—HARYO—the major social agency in the impoverished ghetto. After their Freedom Summer in the South, they had decided they would henceforth commit their energies to their own backyard. Certainly, there were sufficient economic and civil rights issues in the North, Malaika had reminded them when they were considering their next endeavor. Rebecca had thought about the segregation in her junior high and her daddy’s clear-sighted views about social justice. 

It had been a frustrating but satisfying summer, despite the long hours at no pay. They had mingled daily with Harlemites, both young and old, learning of their needs firsthand. At night they slept together on the floor of a community leader’s row house. For Rebecca, that had been the highlight of the experience, sharing views about the day’s accomplishments with each other. Despite the stifling summer heat, they had stayed up late into the night exploring ideas on social change. Rebecca savored every moment of their discussions. 

Rebecca sifts through more pictures of her friends, warmth radiating throughout her body as she nourishes herself with memories of their shared lives, of her early adulthood. Periodically, she fingers a particular snapshot and holds it close to her chest. An idea is gradually taking shape in her mind as she longs to erase the distance between them. 

Yes, she thinks, as she clenches her hands into fists. She eyes the retirement cards again. Why not? Rebecca slips on her navy blue peacoat, wool beanie, and sheepskin-lined winter boots and wraps herself in the cashmere scarf that Susan had knitted for her birthday ten years ago. She walks purposefully to a CVS, two blocks away, grateful that the stores have shoveled their sidewalks following the recent snowstorm. Once inside, she heads straight to the greeting card racks and scans them, homing in on what she came for: a pack of purple invitations with matching envelopes. For emphasis, she purchases two bags of lavender glitter. Her heart is pounding, and she closes her eyes for a moment. They will come, she assures herself. 974

 

About the Author

Laura Katz Olson

Laura Katz Olson, AGF Distinguished Professor of Political Science, has
taught at Lehigh University since 1974. To date, she has published nine
nonfiction books, focusing on aging and healthcare. Her latest, Ethically
Challenged: Private Equity Storms U.S. Health Care has been awarded several
gold medals, including from the Independent Book Publishers Association
(IBPA) and the Benjamin Franklin Awards. Elder Care Journey: A View from the
Front Lines, which relates her personal experiences as a caregiver for her
mother, won a Gold Medal in the Ninth Annual Living Now Book Awards.
Wrinkled Rebels is her second novel.

 

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Hail the King Virtual Book Tour

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A Verse-by-Verse Journey Through the Book of Revelation

Nonfiction / Religion / Biblical Studies / Christian

Date Published: May 7, 2024

Publisher: Lucid Books

 

 

Did you know that the Bible speaks more about the times we are living in
than any other period in history?

In the mysterious and prophetic Book of Revelation, God has laid out His
plans for the incredible final chapters of planet Earth so His people can be
blessed, informed, encouraged, emboldened, strengthened, and filled with
hope as they navigate the last days.

 Written in a clear and accessible style, Hail the King will
illuminate every verse and chapter of this captivating book. You’ll
learn:

 

•         Why the Old Testament is
the key to unlocking the Book of Revelation.

•         The meaning behind the
vivid imagery and strange symbols used by John.

•         How the past 2,000 years
of the Church were prophesied in 7 letters written by Jesus.

•         The chronological
sequence of events leading up to Christ’s glorious return.

•         How to find a renewed
sense of urgency, purpose, and hope in these uncertain times.

 

Prepare for an immersive encounter with Scripture that will equip you for
the days ahead, grow your love for Jesus, and inspire you to live with an
eternal perspective!

 

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EXCERPT

 

 The first word we need to learn on this journey is “eschatology.” It’s

the term used for the theological study of Bible prophecies related

to the end of the world, “the end-times” or “the last days.” If you’re

studying eschatology, you’re studying end-times Bible prophecies,

which is what we’ll be doing in this journey through Revelation.

Within Christendom, there is a frequently repeated critique

of those who love to dig into eschatology, and it goes something

like this: “If you’re too Heavenly minded, you’ll be no earthly good.”

I remember opening a prominent Christian music magazine

and reading their review of a concept album that a well-known

artist had just released. All the songs were focused on Heaven

and Jesus’ coming for His Church. It was a brilliant album.

But the reviewer accused the album of “suffering from ‘I’ll Fly Away’

syndrome.”

Both critiques are rooted in the belief that Christians too

focused on the coming of Jesus and eternity in Heaven will neglect

the things they should be doing for Jesus on the earth, here and

now. The assumption is that they’ll live useless lives as they

waste their days gazing longingly toward the heavens instead of

sharing the Gospel and occupying themselves with the work of

the Kingdom.

About the Author

Jeff Thompson was born in Cape Town, South Africa, and has served full-time
in churches since the age of 19 as a youth pastor, worship pastor, and
teaching pastor. In 2012, he planted what would become Gospel City Church,
where he has served as a pastor for over a decade. Jeff has a passion for
Bible prophecy, which has led him to study and teach through some of the
Bible’s most compelling and challenging texts. He lives in the
beautiful Greater Vancouver region of Canada with his wife, Charlene, their
6 children, and a dog he foolishly promised his oldest daughter she could
get when she turned 12.

 

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Obsession Teaser Tuesday

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(Raven’s Vale Psychos)

Contemporary Dark Romance

Date Published: June 28, 2024

 

 

I’m a monster.

The Boogeyman.

The thing you fear in the dark.

I’ve killed countless men and women, and I have no plans to
stop.

They locked me up. Called me insane.

Until I escaped.

 

Raven’s Vale is mine. Well, partially mine.

Crash and Kane help me rule over this small town.

I’ve never wanted anything other than watching the life fade from
someone’s eyes after I’ve taken my knives to them.

Until Hollis.

 

She makes me question whether there’s still a heart beating in my
chest.

For some reason, I want her… and I don’t want to kill
her.

I want her under me. Submitting to my every whim.

But I crave her fear too.

She’s my obsession…

And I’ll stop at nothing to make her mine.

 

 

WARNING: If you have triggers, please proceed with caution. This is not a
sweet romance. The Raven’s Vale Psychos series contains very dark content,
including a true anti-hero. For everyone who enjoys twisted tales, morally
gray to totally depravedcharacters, and lots of adult action in your books
— this one is for you!

 

There’s no cheating. No cliffhanger. And a rather twisted version of
happily-ever-after.

Obsession bird with knife

EXCERPT

Riot

Smoke filled the room as both Crash and Kane smoked like fucking chimneys.
The shit bothered me, and they both damn well knew it. Not that either of
them gave two fucks. They’d settled in for a game of cards, but the
darkness outside called to me. My skin itched and my fingers twitched. How
long had it been since I’d last killed?

Too long.

“What the fuck crawled up your ass?” Crash asked.
“Isn’t it almost your night? You should be pretty damn
stoked.”

“Not soon enough,” I muttered. “Besides, being offered a
lamb to slaughter isn’t as much fun as hunting one.”

Kane nodded. “I get it. They reek of fear either way, but it’s
always sweeter when they aren’t expecting it.”

“There’s something seriously wrong with you two,” Crash
said. “I don’t understand your fascination with getting all
bloody. My way is much better. Nice and neat.”

Kane snorted. “They still end up dead, don’t they? Don’t
pretend you’re any better than us.”

Crash shrugged. It was an old argument. The three of us had stumbled across
this town when Crash and I had barely been considered adults. Kane was a bit
older than the two of us. Freshly escaped from an institute for the
criminally insane, we’d needed a place to hide. Raven’s Vale
boasted a population of no more than five thousand. Cut off from the larger
towns and cities, it had been the best place for us to lie low.

If it hadn’t been for the fire we’d set, or the fact we’d
managed to keep them guessing over how many bodies had burned to death, the
law would most likely have been searching for us all these years. Instead,
they believed we were dead. Anywhere else, we’d need things like
driver’s licenses, birth certificates, or something to prove who we
were. Not in Raven’s Vale.

Then our cravings had kicked in. We hadn’t been able to help
ourselves. Not long after we started slaughtering anyone who crossed our
path, we found ourselves face-to-face with the mayor and sheriff. It had
been easy enough to convince them to bow to us. After the mayor received a
few pieces of his daughter, and the sheriff realized we had his two girls as
well, the tides had quickly turned in our favor. We’d released them
back to their families once we knew the mayor and sheriff would toe the
line. They both knew we could snatch them again at a moment’s
notice.

Now we ruled Raven’s Vale. No matter how many we killed, no one was
coming for us. None of them dared. And as far as the outside world went,
none of them knew we existed. We didn’t leave a paper trail.

“Get the hell out of here,” Kane said. “You know you
can’t wait.”

I flashed him a smile and flipped off Crash before I grabbed my knives and
headed out. Eyeing my motorcycle, I bypassed it and decided I’d track
down prey on foot tonight. The bike was fun to ride but noisy as fuck.
Everyone would know I was coming long before I got there.

Although, sometimes it was fun to chase the rats when they started to
scurry. Tonight wasn’t one of those nights, though. Right now, I
wanted to instill fear before they even realized who was stalking them in
the shadows.

Most people feared the night and stayed indoors as much as possible. No one
knew when one of us might strike.

Movement caught my eye, and I crept closer, clinging to the shadows. A
young woman hurried down the sidewalk, her head bowed and shoulders hunched.
If she was trying to make herself invisible, she’d failed miserably. I
kept pace with her but remained out of sight. Something about her seemed
different from the others in this place.

There was no way she didn’t sense my presence. At some point, even
the most dense individuals would realize a monster was stalking them. If she
did, the woman never let on. She continued to wherever she was going.

For once, I didn’t experience the urge to snuff out her life.
Instead, I wondered what made her entirely oblivious. Was it a self-defense
mechanism? She disappeared into an apartment building, and I figured that
meant she was home for the night.

Going back the way I’d come, I walked the streets, hoping to find
interesting prey. Two punks were doing their best to break into a car. The
fact they didn’t have permission to do this sort of shit in my town
pissed me off. Rushing toward them, I ended one of their lives quickly with
a slice across his neck. The other dropped his tools and backed up several
steps.

“Holy shit!” He stared at his friend with wide eyes.
“What the fuck?”

“That’s what I’d like to ask.” I prowled closer.
“Who gave you permission to break into cars in this town?”

“Huh? What are you…” He paled. “Shit. Fuck!
You’re one of them, aren’t you? One of the Raven’s Vale
Psychos.”

I grinned. “Is that what everyone calls us?”

He tried backing up again and tripped over his own feet. The moment he
landed on his ass, he pissed himself. Crouching in front of him, I held the
knife where he could see his friend’s blood coating my blade.

“Don’t kill me,” he pleaded. “This was all
Rob’s idea. I didn’t want to do it.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Before he had a chance to move, I stabbed his
thigh with my knife. The little pissant screamed and I stabbed the other
leg.

He crab-walked backward, trying to get away. No point. He couldn’t
exactly run. Even if he did, I’d find him. Standing, I reached down
and grabbed his collar, then dragged him along behind me. Down a dark alley,
across another street, and into yet another alley. Dropping him by a
dumpster, I took my time, sliding my knife into his belly, his legs, slashed
his arms.

I could see the light fading from his eyes, and I sat to watch, taking it
all in until he’d taken his last breath.

It didn’t leave me feeling as satisfied as I’d hoped. Deciding
there wouldn’t be any others, I went back to the apartment building
and watched the windows, hoping to spot the woman from earlier. I found her
on the third floor, staring out into the night. She’d changed her
clothes, and her nightgown molded to her curves. Even from here, I could see
the peaks of her nipples through the material.

My cock hardened and I wanted to feel her under me. Chained to my bed,
begging for mercy. The thought of her crying, hearing her pleas for me to
set her free, was enough to make me smile.

I didn’t know who she was, but I wanted to find out.

She was the first in over a decade to make me want something other than
death.

 

Obsession bird in tree

About the Author

Harley Wylde is an accomplished author known for her captivating MC
Romances. With an unwavering commitment to sensual storytelling, Wylde
immerses her readers in an exciting world of fierce men and irresistible
women. Her works exude passion, danger, and gritty realism, while still
managing to end on a satisfying note each time.

When not crafting her tales, Wylde spends her time brainstorming new
plotlines, indulging in a hot cup of Starbucks, or delving into a good book.
She has a particular affinity for supernatural horror literature and movies.
Visit Wylde’s website to learn more about her works and upcoming events, and
don’t forget to sign up for her newsletter to receive exclusive discounts
and other exciting perks.

 

Author on Facebook, Instagram, Patreon, & TikTok: @harleywylde

Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok:
@changelingpress

Pre-Order Today

 

 

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