Soft Lies & Hard Truths Virtual Book Tour

Soft Lies & Hard Truths banner

Soft Lies & Hard Truths cover

California Heart Series, Book 3

 

Contemporary Romance

Date Published: 04-17-2024

Publisher: The Wild Rose Press

 

 

Heartbroken and mortified by mean-spirited taunts and social media pictures
of her looking like a hot mess at her ex-boyfriend’s wedding, Leah
James decides to accept her friend, Miguel Montoya’s, offer to take a
road trip to their hometown of Santa Lorena.

Miguel, ex-Marine turned fitness trainer, is done pretending that he
doesn’t have strong feelings for Leah. From the moment he laid eyes on
her, he knew she was the one, and now this trip provides the perfect
opportunity to take their relationship to the next level.

Will shocking lies, deceits, and half-truths dampen the fiery sparks of
passion that ignite when Leah and Miguel are forced to share a cozy
honeymoon cottage, or will they overcome their fears and build a brighter
future based on honesty and love?

Soft Lies & Hard Truths tablet

EXCERPT

Chapter 9

Leah

That was an eye opener. I didn’t know Miguel had someone in Santa Lorena. What had the woman said? Something about him not having any clothes on. I’m happy for him, even if I’m disappointed that he can’t come get me. 

As soon as the cocky stranger retreats outside, I hop off the couch, grab my clothes, then run to the bathroom to throw on my clothes. The more I think about it, the more I’m certain that I over reacted. The guy has got to be doing some construction work on the house, hence the tool belt and the key to let himself inside. 

A pink t-shirt and my powder-blue jeans are perfect for hanging out around here. Since Miguel is busy with his girlfriend, I have got to talk to someone now. While heading into the kitchen, I call Jenny.

“So, what’s the skinny?” Jenny asks as soon as she picks up the phone. “Did you talk to your dad to find out what he’s doing with the student?”

“Jenny,” I say, exasperated. “You really have to control your imagination. That is absolutely not what’s going on here.” I open a few cabinets, looking for the cereal, which I find in the pantry between containers of flour and sugar.

“Oh.” She sounds disappointed. “I guess I was wrong then. So, your father said there was no hanky-panky, huh?”

“I didn’t ask him.” Opening the refrigerator, I find some almond milk and decide it will do fine for my bowl of cereal. “They were gone when I woke up.”

“What?” Sighing loudly, she continues, “Are you saying you didn’t talk to him about the woman in his house?” 

I can imagine her shaking her head. “She is not a woman.” I pour the granola in a bowl. “She’s a girl.”

“Do you know how crazy that sounds?” Her signature loud laugh echoes through the phone. “You said she’s in her mid-twenties.”

“At the most. Maybe younger.”

“Well, in any case, being in her twenties qualifies her for adulthood. Stop fooling yourself. We aren’t that much older that you don’t remember what it was like to have a crush on one of our handsome professors.”

“I remember no such thing.” I should have known Jenny would refuse to see logic, what with her magic incantations and spells. “There’s no hocus-pocus going on here.”

“No. I’d say not.” She chuckles. “If you don’t want to remember Professor Larsen, our very bohemian art history teacher, well, good for you. Even I was attracted to him, and that’s saying something.”

“Okay.” Of course, I remember him, but I’m not about to share that with her so she can gloat in satisfaction. My father is nothing like Professor Larsen, who had loads of sex appeal. He’d probably been in his late thirties or early forties, tall and rangy-looking, with a slightly disheveled look, messy hair, and crumpled clothes that looked like they’d been purchased at a secondhand store. He’d consistently appeared excited to discover he was teaching art to an excited group of students who he may or may not have noticed were mostly female. “I didn’t ask my father about the living situation because, by the time I came back in the house, they were in bed.”

“Together?” 

“Jenny!” After choking on my cereal, I wipe my mouth with a napkin. “No.” Although, really… how would I know? But the thought is too ridiculous to seriously consider.

“Go check now,” she orders. “See if it looks like she’s using the second bedroom and he’s using the other one.” Jenny can be very bossy. 

Normally, I admire her directness, but not so much right now. “I’m not going to snoop around my father’s house.” I chew on a mixture of crushed almonds, coconut shreds, and pumpkin seeds. Obviously, this cereal is eaten for the health benefits, not the flavor.

“Don’t be silly,” she says impatiently. “That’s exactly why you can snoop. All kids wait until their parents leave the house before they embark on a treasure hunt to discover what bounty they can unearth—candy bars, love letters, perfume samples, etc. You apparently missed out on some of those important developmental milestones. Go now and call me back when you’re done.”

“I’m not sure,” I say hesitantly, while the idea begins to make sense. After all, they aren’t here, and it will just take a minute. 

Taking my bowl to the sink, I quickly wash it, then set it on the drying rack. “Okay, you’re blowing this whole thing out of proportion. You’ll see I’m right.”

“Want to bet?” she asks eagerly.

“Not really.” Now that I’ve decided to check out the rooms, I’m eager to get off the phone, so I can prove my point.

“If I win—or perhaps I should say when you see that they are sharing a room—you owe me a crystal of my choice.”

“Fine. And you owe me one when you find out that she’s renting a room.”

After disconnecting, I set my phone on the table and walk to the back of the house. My father’s room is the first door on the right. 

I twist the nob and look inside. Same teakwood headboard on his double bed that is clearly unsuitable for two people. The beige curtains cover two windows, and the oblong brown-and-beige rug is on the floor at the foot of the bed. 

Stepping inside, I make my way to the dresser where there’s one bottle of expensive designer cologne. My hand shakes as I pick up the bottle, looking for an indication if it’s for a male or female—but there’s no designation either way. Maybe I should check in the closet. If the girl’s sleeping in this room, she’ll have to have some clothes in the closet.

Just as I’m about to slide open the door panels, a deep voice behind me says, “What do you think you’re doing?” 

It’s the construction guy, a drill in one calloused hand, and a stern expression on his lean face.

“Hey.” Startled, I jerk away from the closet door and hit my hip against the sharp corner of the dresser. “Ow.” I rub the spot where the wood jutted out. “I’m looking for something.” Women’s clothes to be exact, but he does not need to know that. “I could ask you the same question. What are you doing here?” I feel guilty but also apprehensive since I’m alone with a stranger. Truth is, he probably does know what’s going on here, even if I don’t. 

“I’m working on the other room.” He tilts his head across the hall. “I didn’t mean to startle you this morning.” He looks at me sheepishly, a grin beginning to spread on his face. “I’m Aaron and you’re a friend of the professor?”

My face grows warm and I look down as I remember the short pajamas I was wearing earlier. No need to think about that, not when I have things that are more important on my mind. Maybe I should befriend him since he’s apparently harmless and knows more about my father’s situation than I do.

“You’re not…” His brown eyes are filled with questions. “… an acquaintance or should say friend of the professor, are you?”

“No, I’m not.” My response is quick since I’m unsure of the direction he’s heading. Obviously, Jenny’s gotten into my head with her overactive imagination. Not knowing when Melissa or my father will return home, I am now eager to leave the room. 

Edging my way past him, I can’t help but notice how he smells—like a combination of sweat and musk, a strangely appealing mix on him. “I’m Leah Ann.”

“Nice to meet you, Leah Ann.” Grinning, he follows me out of the room into the hall. “Is that one word or two?”

“Two.” I’m on a mission and not in the mood for small talk, even if Aaron appears to be a decent guy. “Don’t let me stop you from doing your job.” Glancing past him, I focus on the second bedroom door that he’s blocking. I feel like reaching around and grabbing the handle. And why shouldn’t I? It’s my father’s house after all—the place that I spent time in during school breaks. It doesn’t matter if I had fun or not. 

“What, with the other room being taken, I guess you had to sleep on the sofa.” Scrunching his nose, he makes a face. “Doesn’t look that comfortable.”

“It was okay,” I lie, remembering how uncomfortable I’d been.

“Here.” He slips a hand into his back pocket, pulls out a business card, then hands it to me. “At your service. My number’s there if you need me.”

I take a minute to read the card. Aaron Wong. Construction. His name is in bold, blue print, with a picture of a red crane in the background. A phone number, website, and a contractor’s license number are listed. “I won’t be needing this, but thanks anyway. I’ve got no plans to remodel anything. I’m just visiting my dad for a couple of days.” Feeling awkward about entering the other room now with him looking on, I saunter past the closed door.

“Really?” Following me down the hall, he adds, “I didn’t know the professor had a daughter.” He nods, looking at me appreciatively. “You must be excited.”

“I am,” I say confidently, having no idea what he’s talking about, but I don’t want Aaron to know how little I know about what’s going on in my father’s life. “Very,” I say emphatically. I’m eager for him to go so I can finish my snooping. What am I supposed to be excited about? It would be too weird for me to ask him what he means. After all, we are talking about my father. “Don’t let me hold you up.” I wave a hand. “I know construction runs on deadlines.”

“We’re just getting started.” He lays a hand on his tool belt. “I’ve been working for the professor for a while.” He shrugs. “I do odd jobs here and there, although this is a bigger project. Anyway, it’s nice meeting you.”

“Nice meeting you, too.” I wave my hand again, before shoving the door closed.

After he leaves, I rush to the other room. As I’m about to enter the bedroom, I hear someone at the front door. Impatient, I rush back down the hall to see who’s here now.

“I thought of something.” Aaron’s hands are jammed in his pockets as he stands on the porch, a sheepish expression on his face.

“Yes?” How am I supposed to inspect the other room if Aaron keeps distracting me? I slowly uncurl my fingers from where they clutch the door handle. It’s too early for either Melissa or my father to be returning any time soon—or… is it? What if he has only one class to teach today and Melissa’s running an errand that takes a short time to complete? “Did you forget something?”

“You’re here to spend some time with your father, right?”

“Correct.” Now I’m puzzled. He now wants to talk about how I’m going to spend my time? I glance at my watch.

“Probably Melissa, too, am I right?”

“Hmm.” Saying no could be construed as rude, so I murmur something unintelligible. Why is this man assuming that I’d want to spend time with one of my father’s students? Strange.

“I know you said you’re only going to be around for a couple of days, but there is a new Italian restaurant in town.” With a grin, he holds out a hand. “Do you like Italian?”

“I do.” He has a great smile and his tattoos are sexy, but I’m not interested in going out with anyone at this time—even someone as ruggedly attractive as Aaron.

“Great. Want to get a bite to eat later? How about six? I can pick you up or we could meet in town.”

“Thank you for the offer, but I’m good.” This guy works fast. Maybe if I lived here, I’d take a chance since Raymond has someone and so does Miguel. But I need to stop hanging onto the past and move forward. “I’ll be gone in a couple of days, so…” 

“Say no more. It’s cool. You have my number.” 

As he walks out the door, I hear him call out, “Call me if you change your mind. You have to eat while you are here.” 

 

 

About the Author

Dalia Dupris

Dalia Dupris has been a book lover as long as she can remember.
Dalia’s BA in English Literature from UCLA and Master’s degree
in Social Work, from the University of Southern California, in addition to
years of experience as a licensed psychotherapist, contribute to her
creation of relatable and complex characters.

In her spare time, she enjoys bike riding along the California coast with
her husband, and hiking with her daughter. She loves hearing from her
readers. Their words of encouragement inspire her to continue creating
memorable characters, who will make you laugh and cry and keep rooting for
them until the very last page. Subscribe to her website for a chance to
learn more about Dalia and her books.

 

Contact Links

Linktr.ee

Website

Facebook

Twitter @dalia_dupris

Goodreads

Instagram

TikTok: @daliadupris8

 

Purchase Today

 

 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

RABT Book Tours & PR

Comments Off on Soft Lies & Hard Truths Virtual Book Tour

Filed under BOOKS

The Brotherhood Preorder Blitz

The Brotherhood banner

 

The Brotherhood cover

Dark Fantasy, Gay, Vampires & Shapeshifters

Date Published: May 3, 2024

 

 

Welcome to Amour Magique, where gay paranormals come to find
love…

Amour Magique – the notorious sex club owned by Liam, an incubus. His
friends call themselves The Brotherhood. The Brothers have the perennial
problem of gay men everywhere: finding a hottie who doesn’t turn out
to be a loser or abuser. They’re down on their luck, and looking for
love in all the wrong places.

Bite Me — Tattoos. Piercings. Leather. Attitude. Do anything, say
anything, and damn the consequences. That’s Bree of the Brotherhood,
and he’s not about to apologize for a thing.

The Dragon’s Tongue — Collin was born with the power to make men
burn with lust. He’s been burned himself, though, and now
he’s  working himself into an early grave. Might just be worth
the trip if he can get it right this time.

Good Luck Piece — Conned into putting in an appearance at the notorious
sex club, Amour Magique, Simon holes up in a shoddy bar aptly called Last
Chance. Then an Irish stranger with flashing green eyes and a mouth made for
wickedness buys him a drink…

 

The Brotherhood tablet

 

 

EXCERPT

Silence. Intense silence. Chilly air smelling of pine and citrus rushed
through painfully neat rooms and corridors, whisking over nothing but bare
furniture and knickknacks free of dust. Surfaces sparkled, yet had an
opacity that lacked any élan vital. Solemn strains of a Beethoven
requiem filled the air.

This was a place where happiness went to die.

In one room, though, a spark of life remained. A scented candle, fragrant
with bayberry and red as blood, crackled to life in the semi-darkness. It
passed from hand to hand, lighting taper after taper in a circle, until
twelve flares of light burned brightly in the gloom. Each candle, held
tightly or cautiously in a strong male hand, was lifted high in a circle as
the men holding them glanced at one another, took a simultaneous deep
breath, and chanted:

“Long live the Brotherhood. May our harmony and companionship be a
beacon in the darkness of an unfriendly world. Let the Brotherhood bring
light to the murky corners and sweep away the shadows of
hostility.”

Again, they glanced at each other. Faint smiles lifted the corners of
mouths plump and thin, narrow and wide.

“Here are the bylaws of the Brotherhood, long may they live. Act
smart. Look cool. Share your prick, not your heart. Long live the
Brotherhood!”

Smothered laughter broke out as all twelve men tilted their bayberry
candles toward a vast central pillar and set its many wicks alight.

“So let it be done,” intoned the man in the position of leader.
“So may it be.”

Silence filled the air for a long moment.

Then the doorbell chimed.

“Hot damn — food’s here!” Micah, closest to the door,
jumped up, shoved his candle into a holder, and, with a deft flick of a
switch, turned the chandelier lighting on in the main room. “Who
ordered tonight? David? What did you get — Chinese or Thai?”

“Chinese,” David called as he put his taper into another
holder, as did the other men. “Moo shu pork, egg rolls, wonton soup,
sweet-and-sour chicken, beef with broccoli, sesame beef, General
Tso’s, cashew chicken, lo mein –”

“Holy fuck, David! We’re not an army!”

“– and dessert, too.” He blushed a little. “Well, you
guys always say there’s never enough when someone else orders. I
figured I’d get plenty.”

“Yeah, plenty of food, since that’s all you’re
getting,” retorted Micah.

“Not nice,” Simon, their leader, rebuked, folding his hands.
“And would you open the door before the nice delivery gentleman thinks
we’re either crazy or not at home and goes away?”

“Don’t get your panties in a bunch. I’m on my way.”
Micah smoothed his indigo silk shirt more neatly into his tight-cut jeans,
ruffled a hand through his hair, and swung the door open. A delighted grin
split his face. “Hwong Li! How did they know to send you? Was it just
for me?”

“You are a horn dog,” the young Asian man retorted. His arms
overflowed with boxes. “I drew the short straw.”

“There is nothing short about me.”

“So you say. Ninety-three ninety, please.”

“Ninety-three — David, how much food did you order?” Micah
turned, hands on his hips. “It’s obvious you don’t care,
but some of us are watching our figures.”

David blushed a deep, dusky red. “I just wanted to get enough
–”

“You got enough, all right. Lose about ten, and maybe you’d get
something else, too.”

“Gentlemen!”

“All right, all right.” Micah folded his arms. “I’m
not paying for all this myself, men. Pony up the cash.” All around the
room, men dug into their pockets. David produced a twenty and handed it
over, his cheeks still pink. Micah snatched all the cash, counting it with a
quick hand before passing over a hundred dollars. He riffled the bills in
front of Hwong’s eyes, letting him count the cash, before cracking a
nasty smile and slipping the money into the delivery boy’s front pants
pocket.

His fingers lingered.

“Why, Hwong, do I feel a spring roll in there?”

“Your touch would make bamboo soft.”

“Prick!”

“Yes. But not on the market for one such as yourself.”

“Fuck you.” Micah jerked his hand away as if he’d been
burned. “Keep the change.”

Hwong Li regarded him disdainfully. “Shitty tip.”

“You want a tip? Don’t insult me next time.”

“Aw, come on,” the youngest of their group piped up.
“Hwong’s a hottie. Treat him with the r-e-s-p-e-c-t a sister,
uh, brother deserves.”

Hwong glanced past Micah. “Hello, Christian. Got a kiss for
me?”

“You bet.” Christian dug into the pocket of his hooded
sweatshirt and pulled out a handful of chocolate drops. He unwrapped them.
“Here, catch!”

Hwong did a nifty little seal impersonation and snaffled every treat in his
mouth as they flew through the air.

“Someday, I’ll give you the real thing,” Christian
teased.

“You wish you were so lucky.” Hwong stuffed the boxes of food
into Micah’s arms, leaving him no choice but to grab them or drop
them. “Night, ladies.”

“Asshole!”

“No, that’s your specialty.” Hwong turned and walked
away.

Micah kicked the door shut and moved somewhat awkwardly toward the table in
the center of the circle they’d sat in earlier. “Does someone
want to help me with this? Simon? Laurence? Bree?”

“Nope!”

“You’re on your own.”

“No way.”

“You’ll sure as hell eat it, though.” Micah dumped the
boxes down. “Fine, then. Chow down, but leave me the plain white
rice.” He patted his flat stomach. “I don’t want to get a
pot belly.”

“You’re in about as much danger of getting fat as you are of
getting anything else,” Alex said bluntly as he flopped down in a
chair and reached for a container marked Lemongrass Chicken Special.
“Pot, kettle, black?”

“I don’t see you bragging about your conquests.”
Micah’s voice was prickly.

“Honestly! Hwong wasn’t far wrong in calling you ladies.
Quentin, you and Harrison get the beer and wine. The rest of you,
sit.”

“Aye, aye, Simon!”

Micah sat in the middle of a buttery-soft leather couch and crossed his
legs. “I think you’re all carrying this whole Brotherhood thing
too far… or not far enough. Help each other out, everyone doing their
part… then it all lands on someone like me.”

A slight, lithe, curly-haired man who had not spoken as yet murmured,
“You need each other, Micah. Such is the purpose to this group.”
He toyed with a blue crystal that dangled from a chain around his neck.
“Even you need these others, deny it as you will.”

Micah regarded the man with distaste. “All I need, Liam, is one good
night on the town with a decent fuck who knows how to treat a
man.”

A youngish, multi-pierced man flopped down on the couch beside them.
“You want a man who’ll treat you like a god.”

“So what if I do?” Micah retorted. “You just want anyone
who knows how to make the bedsprings bounce, Bree.”

“Yeah, and?” Bree reached for some extra-spicy General
Tso’s. “At least it’s been less than a year for
me.”

“Not by much.”

“Liar, liar, pants not on fire.”

Simon sighed and rolled his eyes to heaven. “Enough! No one else says
a word until we’ve eaten. I invoke Brotherhood Head
status.”

“Yeah, you wish you could get some head,” Bree muttered.

However, despite his defiance, he fell silent, as did the rest of the men.
Falling into place on chairs, divans, and sofas, they dug into the hot Asian
food. Small moaning noises of pleasure filled the air as rich spices and
tangy flavors crossed eager tongues, and sighs of satisfaction were heard as
one or another discovered a favorite among the boxes and cartons. Even
David, picking at white rice himself, found the courage to reach for a
packet of soy sauce and then, with a shy glance up, took a vegetarian egg
roll.

* * *

As the members of the Brotherhood ate, Liam picked daintily at a dish of
cashew chicken and watched each man closely. He did not require food, not as
such, but took pleasure in eating with his Brotherhood. They found so much
delight in their weekly feasts, bitch though they might about waistlines. He
did wish they would leave David alone, though. He might be the slightest bit
plump, but certainly not fat, as Micah would have him, and his softness only
made him all the more delectable.

Micah, on the other hand, was over-tall and far too whipcord-lean to be to
Liam’s taste. But that is the irony and joy of it, is it not? Liam
thought. For everyone, there is someone to appreciate them. These men have
all been far too long without the reverence due those of their worth.

I will show them the path back to sexual triumph and the satisfaction of
conquest, Lilith willing. But I must tread carefully, and mark out my way
step by step…

He continued to watch. Finishing their entrees, the men reached for one
final, cold box. It would seem David had ordered ices — a specialty of that
particular restaurant — to go with their meal. It catered perhaps too much
to American tastes, rather than the finer hallmarks of true Asian cuisine,
but they made a fortune on their desserts. The ices, served in small cups,
were rich and creamy, drizzled in exotic syrups that not even Micah, after
some wavering, could resist. Renewed moans and murmurs of appreciation were
heard as spoons dipped into the smooth, sweet treats and were savored in
eager mouths. In delectable contrast, several men also reached for hot,
sugary doughnuts, blending the tastes and textures.

Liam took for himself a vanilla-flavored ice covered in rose syrup and
savored it, bit by bit. He laughed a little to himself at the choice of
vanilla for a creature such as he, but it made an excellent base for the
rich rose. Sweet and smooth, with just a tang of honey, it flowed over his
tongue. Truly, there could be nothing finer, except perhaps the come from a
man who lived on fruit alone. In his many years, he had tasted such nectar
on occasion and found it to be the best dessert of all.

Still, the food was not his primary concern. Watching the others took
precedence.

Spiky Bree, all youth and exuberance.

Tall, massively dignified Collin, still immaculate in his business suit
from a hard day’s work, looking a little irritated, as ever, at having
to leave his beloved office for a meeting of the Brotherhood. He only came
because his therapist had ordered him to develop social contacts outside of
work.

Disheveled Quentin, his hair tousled in wild bed-head that he’d
likely not bothered to comb save for with his fingers, sexy in a sort of
devil-may-care way.

Simon, neat and cool as his apartment, but tough as — how did they say? —
nails.

Laurence, vulnerable beneath his shell of bravado.

Micah, truly a bitch among man-bitches, but with a core of softness buried
deep down — very deep down, Liam decided.

Soft David, who would be ever so kissable if he lost his shyness and showed
himself off as the prize he was.

Sober, solemn Allen, and cold but beautiful Alex, uncle and nephew, who
shared a slight hard-jawed, dark-blond resemblance save for Alex’s
thin, wire-framed glasses.

Christian, youngest of all, so very innocent, and Harrison, hard with
cynicism.

The Brotherhood. His Brotherhood, Liam’s chosen group of friends.
Gathered together, standing proud against a heterosexually oriented world,
these “gay” men joined as a unit to celebrate their sexuality
and their bond of kinship. It had taken him a little work to join their
ranks, but, ah, it had been worth it. Most of these men had come together
after Simon, a lawyer, had defended them in court against too-rough or
financially cheating lovers who had done them wrong. Liam had had to come in
by word of mouth and a slight use of the magics he had at hand. After all,
no man dared harm him, unless he asked for it ever so prettily, with a
pouting mouth and eyes that sparkled and dared any man to mark him.

With his Brotherhood, he kept his powers carefully concealed. He came to
them for friendship, not a group of conquests, though at times he toyed with
the idea of seeing Micah begging at his feet, or watching proud Collin
between his legs, sucking him off and swallowing down his come as if it
tasted far better than any butternut ice with maple syrup. And yet again, he
thought of gently undressing David, kissing every soft inch of him, petting
his lovely body until he felt as worshiped as he deserved to be.

But no, no. Satisfying as he sometimes thought sampling the Brotherhood
might be, he needed them far more as friends. Without friends, even an
incubus became… lonely. Sex fulfilled but one need of a man, after
all. Having lived millennia, Liam had become acutely aware of his need for
companionship in addition to sex, although he thrived on a nightly diet of
fucking and being fucked, plunging into another man’s tight channel or
having fingers and cocks deep inside him. He fed his powers, and lived on
from day to day, but he came here with equal passion and interest,
cherishing the time all the more for its difference.

However, as he had spent time with these men, this Brotherhood, he had
noticed that despite their attractiveness, not one of them had enjoyed sex
in quite a long time. Bad luck, or simply a dry spell? Liam didn’t
know. What he did know was that he could do something about it. He had
traded one of Lilith’s Tears, identical to the one he wore around his
neck to mark him as an incubus, for a chance to give these men a night that
would transcend their most exotic and erotic fantasies. All that remained
now would be to convince them. Soon, soon, he would set out to do just
that…

About the Author

Willa Okati (AKA Will) is made of many things: imagination, coffee, stray
cat hairs, daydreams, more coffee, kitchen experimentation, a passion for
winter weather, a little more coffee, a whole lot of flowering plants and a
lifelong love of storytelling. Will’s definitely one of the quiet ones you
have to watch out for, though he — not she anymore — is a lot less quiet
these days.

Will on Facebook

Will on Instagram

Will on Goodreads

 

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

Pre-Order Today

 

RABT Book Tours & PR

Comments Off on The Brotherhood Preorder Blitz

Filed under BOOKS

Lord of Storms Teaser Tuesday

Lord of Storms banner

 

Lord of Storms cover

Dark Fantasy, Capture Fantasy, Action Adventure

Date Published: May 3, 2024

 

 

Advertising executive by day and novelist by night Gray Stewart has
retreated to the country for a much-needed vacation.  She’s at
the top of a mountain when lightning threatens to fry her to a crisp.
She finds shelter with a mysterious man who goes only by Rowan.

Rowan is the Lord of Storms, a super-human being who has power to minimize
the damage of dangerous storms.  He works in secret, and his female
visitor is a threat to that secrecy.  She’s also a threat to his
equilibrium because as long as she’s around, his thoughts keep
straying to sex… and love.

Lord of Storms tablet

 

EXCERPT

 

Gray Stewart had reached the top of the world. Okay, she was only up about
nine thousand feet, but her heart still raced from the climb, and her lungs
were working overtime to suck in oxygen. She’d made it all the way to
the top of Mount Richardson, the tallest peak in this part of California,
and if she could breathe, the view would steal her breath away. Wait
‘til she told the wiseasses back at the office she’d mastered
the climb. None of the macho types who treated women like weaklings could
have kept up with her.

She broke out her water bottle and took a swig and swung her small backpack
off her shoulder onto the granite beneath her. Then, she sat, crossing her
legs. The beautiful ham and Swiss sandwich the inn’s restaurant had
made for her beckoned. She removed the plastic wrap and took a bite. With
the tomato from the farmer’s market in the inn’s parking lot,
nothing had ever tasted so delicious. In fact, the water tasted pretty
damned amazing, too. Maybe she’d give up coffee.

No reason to get crazy about this, though. Pretty soon she’d be back
in the city where you needed caffeine to face the morning. For now, she
could gaze into the valley far below… at the tall pine trees that now
appeared the size of toys for a model train set and the river shrunk to no
more than a ribbon winding between rows of wine grapes.

A couple of days in the country, and her head was starting to straighten
out. She’d left home for college, and for a little hick girl from a
tiny town, that had been a shock. But then, she’d found the chance job
of a lifetime as a professional writer. So, her art consisted of convincing
people that Gloryshine toothpaste could give them a dazzling smile. Big
deal. She made a good income at that and wrote the great American novel at
night. Her life ought to be perfect. So, why wasn’t it?

She continued eating and feeling sorry for herself until she’d
devoured the sandwich. Then, she pulled her knees up to her chest and rested
her arms on them as she studied the beauty of nature. Unless… wait a
minute… was that a… Lord no, please… a thunderstorm in
the distance? Maybe it was travelling away from her. Lightning flashed, and
she started counting the seconds before the thunder. It took some time and
wasn’t particularly loud. A good sign.

Another flash, and this time the thunder came quicker. And louder. So, the
storm was headed her way, after all. She was sitting at the very top of a
tall mountain with no trees around her — just like a lightning rod waiting
to be hit.

Then, the wind whipped up, and clouds gathered. More lightning, followed by
more thunder, now really loud. She had to get away from here and fast.

She scrambled to her feet and grabbed her pack before heading in any
direction as long as it was down. Even city people knew you didn’t
want to be the tallest thing around when lightning was looking for something
to hit. She was moving too fast for the terrain, which you couldn’t
call a path. Rocks underfoot threatened to trip her, and the gravel was even
more uncertain. The rain started, slapping her in the face, blurring her
vision, but she kept going. That blasted storm was chasing her, and either
she reached safety, or she could get fried.

Her backpack slipped from her hand, taking her phone and the keys to the
rental car with it. She kept going, jumping over obstacles and skidding in
places. The way got steeper, and remaining upright took all her effort, and
all the while, the booming got louder. How much longer before the spears of
lightning would overtake her? In the end, something caught her foot and she
fell.

Attempting to catch herself with outstretched arms only caused her to turn
sideways and roll. Sky, dirt, sky, dirt. So fast she couldn’t tell up
from down. Something sharp bit into her arm as she kept spinning down the
side of the mountain. Lord help her if there was a cliff ahead because
she’d never stop.

But she did stop. Suddenly, something dug into her side — a boot, of all
things. And it belonged to a man. From where she lay, he seemed as tall as a
pine and as fierce as a bird of prey.

“What kind of idiot climbs to the top of this mountain ahead of a
thunderstorm?” he said.

“Who in hell are you?” she said right back.

“Never mind. You’d better come with me.” He bent and
scooped her up as if she weighed nothing at all. That was her last thought
before the world went dark.

 

About the Author

USA Today best-selling author Alice Gaines has published several sensuous
and erotic works. She prefers stories that stretch the imagination,
highlighting the power of love and sex. Alice has a Ph.D. in psychology from
U. C. Berkeley and lives in Oakland, California, where she sings in her
church choir.

Find Alice on Facebook

Join Alice’s Newsletter

 

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

Pre-Order Today

 

RABT Book Tours & PR

1 Comment

Filed under BOOKS

Selena Flowers and the Cursed Ruby New Release Blast

Selena Flowers and the Cursed Ruby banner

 

Selena Flowers and the Cursed Ruby cover

The Merblood Saga Book 1

Middle-Grade Fantasy

Date Published: April 30, 2024

 

 

When the Tide Turns, the Merblood Rises…

In the quaint, windswept town of Madderly Bay, twelve-year-old Selena
Flowers’ dream of a peaceful life shatters as an eerie voice echoes in her
mind, a reminder of the nightmarish encounter that awaits her beneath the
waves: “Just relax. You can breathe easily. I’ve got total
control over you.”

Selena, newly arrived from the bustling streets of London, finds herself in
a gothic mansion teetering on the edge of a coastal cliff, her mother
Fiona’s strange inheritance. But their new beginning turns into a chilling
adventure when an undead mermaid, Faustina, crashes through Selena’s window,
heralding a descent into a dark, hidden world.

The once thriving zombie merkingdom beneath Madderly Bay, now a forgotten
abyss, is Faustina’s haunting domain. Cursed to eternal youth, this zombie
mermaid queen is driven by a lonely, venomous desire to expand her ghostly
army. When Fiona begins to show signs of a ghastly transformation, Selena
knows the curse has found its newest victim.

Faustina’s power stems from a mysterious ruby necklace, an artifact of
untold magic and menace. Its dark magic can turn the tide of fate, offering
salvation or doom. As Selena grapples with bullies at her new school and the
complexities of a small town riddled with secrets, the necklace becomes her
only hope to save her mother from a watery, undead fate.

With the help of her new friend Chloe, Selena embarks on a perilous quest
to uncover the necklace’s hidden past and its current whereabouts. The
journey takes her deeper into Faustina’s world—a world of betrayal,
ancient curses, and underwater lairs.

As the clock ticks and Fiona’s transformation accelerates, Selena must
confront her deepest fears. Plunging into the murky depths, she faces off
against Faustina in a heart-stopping struggle for the necklace. In this
underwater chess game, every move could be her last. Will Selena retrieve
the necklace and reverse the curse, or will she become another lost soul in
Faustina’s mermaid kingdom?

As Selena’s story unfolds, she discovers that the true power lies not in a
ruby’s glow, but in the strength of her own heart. In a final, breathtaking
climax, Selena must decide the fate of the necklace, balancing the weight of
its power against the safety of those she loves.

“Selena Flowers and the Cursed Ruby” is a tale of magic, courage,
and the unbreakable bonds of family. It is a story that reminds us that even
in our darkest hours, there is always a glimmer of hope.

…For in the Depths of Despair, a Hero Rises.

About the Author

Ella English

Ella English is a British author and illustrator who swapped afternoon tea
for lattes to go when she moved from London to Baltimore, USA 23 years ago.
She writes children’s books, including the beloved Kitty in the City chapter
book series about a singing cat in Manhattan, as well as the Merblood Saga
which deals with magic and mermaids in Madderly Bay.

The inspiration for the Merblood Saga can be traced back to Ella’s
childhood holidays on the Kent Coast in the UK. With massive waves crashing
against the seawall and the occasional freak wave pulling unsuspecting
beachgoers into the water, young Ella’s imagination ran wild. She began to
wonder if a hidden community of mystical mermaids could be living beneath
the surface, their lives intertwined with the ebb and flow of the
tides.

Years later, those childhood musings have transformed into a middle grade
series that will enchant readers. The Merblood Saga brings the magic of
Ella’s coastal daydreams to life, inviting readers to dive into a world
where mermaids are real and adventure lurks beneath the waves.

 

Contact Links

Website

Instagram

TikTok

Twitter

 

Purchase Link

Amazon

 

RABT Book Tours & PR

Comments Off on Selena Flowers and the Cursed Ruby New Release Blast

Filed under BOOKS

The Caretaker Virtual Book Tour

The Caretaker banner
 

The Caretaker cover

Haunted Historical Mystery Series, Book 3

 

Paranormal Thriller

Date Published: February 25, 2024

 

 

A blizzard rips through the Black Hills of South Dakota, as journalist
Rachael embarks on a journey to Hawthorne House, a remote inn located deep
in the frigid wilderness. As the storm rages on, Rachael finds herself
caught in a gripping tale of mystery and intrigue, unsure of what lies ahead
in the enigmatic world of the treacherous snow-covered landscape and the
sinister forces that lurk within Hawthorn House. The icy snowstorm blurs the
lines between reality and imagination as Rachael uncovers secrets and
revelations that challenge her perception of the caretaker and the true
nature of Hawthorn House.

The Caretaker tablet

EXCERPT

Viewing the house piece by piece, with its arched windows and elaborate porch it was beautiful, but the disparate elements did not come together to make a harmonious home. It squatted there in its hovel, the whiteness of the siding disappearing in the grayness of the photo. The small windows in the attic appeared to be hooded eyes, malevolent in the darkness of winter’s twilight, and I shivered and wrapped my arms around myself. The pictures I had seen of Mawthorne Mouse had been taken in the summer, when the over: growth of trees had masked much of the home. I stepped closer to the monitor and studied the house closely. The entrance appeared to be a dark, wooden door. It’s usually hard to go wrong with a door shape, but it seemed shorter and broader than most. There was depth to the opening, as if I could reach out with my finger, push through that door, and enter the house. I shivered again. I was letting the lateness of the night and the ambience of the Alex Johnson get to me – I, who always resided in the here and now. I reached out to the mouse to close the browser and paused. Perhaps it was a weak connection or a faulty signal, but snowflakes appeared to drift across the screen, twisting and spiraling as they swept around the house. I grabbed the mouse, and the screen settled – no movement, Yust a picture of an uneasy house, shivering in the cold. I closed the tab and went to bed, shrugging off my apprehension.

About the Author

 Regina Wixon

Regina endeavors to take her readers on a journey around the United States
to be fascinated by our country’s history in a series of chilling books she
hopes you will love. She blends a captivating blend of mystery, historical
intrigue, and paranormal elements, her gripping novels, weaving together
tales of secrets and revelations that span centuries. Her stories often
delved into the hidden depths of history, uncovering long-forgotten
mysteries and unsolved crimes that haunted the past. It was the paranormal
twists that set Regina’s work apart, adding an extra layer of intrigue and
suspense that kept readers eagerly turning the pages until the very end. She
continues to explore the darker corners of the human experience through her
captivating storytelling.

Thank you for reading and please leave a review. Her next book will be
coming out in the summer of 2024, The Haunting of York Hall. Any questions
or comments? Please visit her wheebsite at reginawixon.com. or follow her on
Facebook where she will keep you updated on upcoming books. Questions?
Please email her at regina.wixon@gmail.com – She’ll be happy to hear
from you!

Contact Links

Website

Facebook

Twitter

Purchase Link

Amazon

 

RABT Book Tours & PR

Comments Off on The Caretaker Virtual Book Tour

Filed under BOOKS