Bear Preorder Blitz

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A Bones MC Romance

Grim Road MC, Book 5

 

Motorcycle Club Romance

Date Published: July 12, 2024

Publisher: Changeling Press

 

 

Olivia: I’ve been sent to infiltrate Grim Road — specifically
looking for any information to do with the man they call Bear. I
didn’t expect to jump into the man’s arms on the first try. I
also didn’t expect to feel an illogical sense of belonging and safety
when he whispered in my ear, “You’re safe.” My deception
will probably get me killed. I’m not a damsel in distress, at least
not how they think. But I think Bear knows I’m lying. He just
doesn’t seem to care.

Bear: Yeah, I know the girl’s lyin’. I also happen to believe
she has a good reason. If I can get her to trust me, then I can make her
demons disappear. But trust is hard-earned. Even if I earn hers, can I trust
her after she started out with lies? Do I really care if she’s lying
as long as she’s mine? Trouble’s following this girl. And
it’s headed straight to Grim Road.

 

WARNING: Bear includes scenes of graphic violence and adult situations
including those that may be triggers for some readers. There’s also a
protective hero, a determined heroine, and an eventual happy ending. No
cheating, as always.

 

Bear teaser

EXCERPT

 

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2024 Marteeka Karland

 

Bear

I hated venturing out into the city. Always made me feel like there was a
target on my fucking back. My true identity was buried so deep even facial
recognition software couldn’t find me, but since I’d been in my
twenties, I’d spent my life running. The government saw to that.

What I thought was a service to help my country turned into a killing spree
on the order of genocide. I’d disobeyed my orders but ended up on a
Terminate with Extreme Prejudice list. Rocket, the closest person I had to a
friend, had brought me to Riviera Beach, Florida, where I’d taken up
with the motorcycle club, Grim Road. The club’s history was long and
distinguished in hiding men like me. I’d been here ever since.

It was nearly midnight on a Saturday. The streets weren’t exactly
teaming, but several bars were open, which was where most people were this
time of night. Some headed home. Others milled about enjoying the evening
air. It wasn’t cool by any means, but the night brought in a breeze
from the ocean that wasn’t stifled by the heat of the sun during the
day. This was my favorite part of the night.

“You lookin’ for somethin’ in particular or just
wishin’ you could go back and change your life choices?” Ringo,
our enforcer, sidled up next to me, handing me a beer.

“Thanks,” I said as I popped the top and took a long swig.
“Just thinkin’. Ain’t much for bein’ out of the
compound.”

“Oh, I know. Which is why I followed.” The other man gave me a
half smirk, half smile.

“Right. That, and Lemon probably told you to have my
back.”

He chuckled. “Little witch is certainly big on that kinda shit. But
no. You’ll be happy to know I did this all on my own.”

I gave him a side eye. “Really. You tryin’ to keep me honest?
Afraid I’m out to betray the club?”

Instantly, Ringo’s whole demeanor changed. “Hey, now. Jumping
to conclusions there, Bear?” Ringo raised an eyebrow. “Of all
the men in this club, you’d be the last one I’d accuse of
betraying the club or anyone in it. Fully expected Rocket to make you his
VP. I’d have supported that.”

I snorted. “No way in fuckin’ hell I want that job. Besides,
Lemon is much better suited.”

“Ain’t sayin’ she’s not. Just sayin’ I was
surprised when Rocket didn’t put your name in the hat for the job long
before Lemon came on the scene.”

The two of us headed down the sidewalk. Kind of felt like we were
patrolling the area. There were several bars and clubs here, and some of
them weren’t altogether safe. A couple times a week, I’d taken
to walking up and down the strip. I wouldn’t say I was looking for
trouble, but I wasn’t opposed to stopping trouble if it found me. The
self-imposed job got me out of the compound as well as extended some measure
of protection to the community which pleased the VP to no end. I
wouldn’t exactly call the city our community, but I got the impression
that’s what Lemon wanted it to be. Crush and Byte worked continually
to strengthen all our identity covers. Rocket wasn’t opposed, so I
took this as my due diligence. I was doing my part, however quietly, to set
an example to the other members. It’s how I did things.

“He offered.” I shrugged. “Not my thing.”

“Oh, really.” The bastard smirked and I wanted to beat the shit
outta him, but restrained myself. Barely. “Was that before or after
you corralled us all and put the idea of voting Lemon in as VP, or
after?”

“Well, I wasn’t gonna do it. Someone had to, and she was the
best choice. You look me in the eye and tell me who else in Grim would be
doing a better job than Lemon, and I’ll volunteer that
bastard.”

Ringo chuckled. “Right. I’ll get on that. But you have to
promise you’ll be the one to break the news to Lemon.”

I snorted. “Not on your fuckin’ life. Girl might be small and
young, but she’s vicious like no man I’ve ever met. You tell her
your own Goddamn self.”

We stared at each other a moment before Ringo’s lips twitched. Once
that happened, we both broke down into chuckles. Neither of us would be
suggesting a replacement for Lemon.

The conversation eased something inside me. Like I knew Ringo had my back
or something where always before I’d kind of felt like I was on my own
in the middle of a crowd. Yeah, I knew if I were really in trouble, outside
of a mission, I could count on my brothers. Always had. But it was different
now.

“Thanks, man. I think I needed that.”

“For what? The reminder that a little five-foot-nothing girl is
making a better vice president than you?”

I snorted. “No, dumbass. The laugh.”

Ringo grinned. “Wait till I tell Lemon you were wanting to replace
her.”

“Whoa. Not cool, bro. Besides, it was you who brought it up. And I
will totally throw you under the bus if you start that
bullshit.”

God, it felt good to banter with Ringo. I’d had that kind of
atmosphere a couple of times on jobs for the CIA, but it was never as
relaxed as it was now.

I took a deep breath and rolled my head on my shoulders, easing some of the
tension that always seemed to be there when I ventured too far from the
compound. It wasn’t that I was scared. It was more like I felt like
someone was watching. Just waiting to make a move.

I could handle myself in an ambush. Fuck knew I’d been in that
situation before and had come out on the other side. Worse for wear maybe,
but the other guys fared far, far worse. Always.

Ringo snorted. “Glad to be of service, brother.”

We continued down the street. The sound of people partying or generally
having a good time filled the night. Each time we passed a bar, the scent of
alcohol hit us. Occasionally someone would be smoking a joint or a cigarette
and those scents would blend in as well. Passing a strip joint brought the
cheap perfume into the mix.

I was about to suggest we go inside one of the strip clubs, just to pass
the time with something different when I spotted a woman making her way down
the sidewalk. Something about the way she moved was just that little bit
off. She glanced behind her, then straight ahead. She hesitated, then
continued moving.

“What’s goin’ on there?” I asked the question more
to myself than to Ringo, but the other man zeroed in on the woman
immediately.

“Not sure. Could be she’s just lost.”

“Right,” I agreed, though I wasn’t so sure. Something
about her posture wasn’t right. “Could be.”

“Uh-huh.”

We both continued forward but at a slower pace. Grim Road MC wasn’t a
secret club, per se. The club was known to the locals, just not where the
clubhouse was or who any of us were beyond our road names. To everyone
around us, we were simply another motorcycle club in the area around Palm
Beach. As such, we wore our colors proudly. So, when the girl got closer to
us, and we slowed down, we wanted her to know what we were.

I stopped while Ringo turned slowly around in a circle with his hands out,
letting her see the emblem on the back of his vest proclaiming him a member
of Grim Road.

She let loose a little sob and ran the rest of the way to us. To my
complete and utter shock, instead of stopping when she reached us, the girl
threw herself into my arms, wrapping her arms tightly around my neck.

And I’ll be Goddamned if my whole body didn’t come alive. Lust
I’d never even dreamed about punched me in the dick before sucking me
into its mouth and making me hard as a fucking pole. The scent of her was
like something out of a dream. Fresh spring flowers and a dash of cinnamon.
She was slender, but I could feel every single one of her slight curves
against my big body. She was so small I could easily wrap my arms all the
way around her with room to spare. Unfortunately, instead of moaning and
finding my mouth with hers, she trembled in my arms. I didn’t think it
was from desire. Her mouth at my ear was a sinful promise. Until she
spoke.

“Angela,” she whimpered. “I need Angela.”

“Hey, sweetheart,” I said loudly. “Missed you,
too.” I chuckled, swinging her around happily. What I was really doing
was putting my body between her and the two men I now saw following
her.

I didn’t acknowledge the men. Instead, I strode down the sidewalk
with her still in my arms. Ringo had my back. If he couldn’t
discourage the guys, I could get her far enough away she could get inside to
the relative safety of a bar or club. Then, I’d help Ringo help these
motherfuckers have themselves an accident.

When I rounded the corner with her, I set her on her feet, but kept hold of
her hand. Everything inside me rebelled at the separation. I wanted to pull
her solidly against me again but needed to make sure I had one hand free if
Ringo needed me. Stepping from behind the wall, I eyed Ringo. He stood where
I’d left him, but the men were already gone. Ringo took slow looks
around the area as he backed toward me. I gave a low whistle, and Ringo
turned and hurried in my direction.

“Get to the bikes.” Ringo’s order was delivered in a
crisp voice. “They didn’t keep following after you picked her
up. You spoke and they backed off. Still don’t want to take a
chance.”

“To Knox’s place?” I knew we couldn’t take her to
the compound. Not without precautions. If the guys had truly backed off, she
wasn’t in immediate danger. If they hadn’t, we’d
reevaluate when we spotted them.

Ringo nodded. “I’ll be on your six. Just gonna let Rocket know
what’s goin’ on and that we’ll call him when we know
more.”

I grunted, but tugged her with me and hurried to my bike.

 

About the Author

Marteeka Karland is an international bestselling author who leads a double
life as an erotic romance author by evening and a semi-domesticated
housewife by day. Known for her down and dirty MC romances, Marteeka takes
pleasure in spinning tales of tenacious, protective heroes and spirited,
vulnerable heroines. She staunchly advocates that every character deserves a
blissful ending, even, sometimes, the villains in her narratives. Her
writings are speckled with intense, raw elements resulting in page-turning
delight entwined with seductive escapades leading up to gratifying
conclusions that elicit a sigh from her readers.

Away from the pen, Marteeka finds joy in baking and supporting her husband
with their gardening activities. The late summer season is set aside for
preserving the delightful harvest that springs from their combined efforts
(which is mostly his efforts, but you can count it). To stay updated with
Marteeka’s latest adventures and forthcoming books, make sure to visit her
website. Don’t forget to register for her newsletter which will pepper you
with a potpourri of Teeka’s beloved recipes, book suggestions, autograph
events, and a plethora of interesting tidbits.

 

Author on Instagram & TikTok: @marteekakarland

Author on Facebook

 

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

 

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Five Hundred Moons Blitz

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Historical Fiction

 

 

Spain is on the move in California and in turmoil at home. As wars ensue
and revolutions brew, a Gypsy woman flees her captors, a young soldier
dreams of a future, and a French naval officer conquers a dancer’s
heart.

On the crescent shores of the great bay, a priest battles inner demons
while pursuing men’s souls. An Ohlone chief worries. He does not
understand his spirit guide, the Lioness. He hopes the shaman’s life
force in his young daughter will point the way.

Set during the latter half of the turbulent eighteenth century, Five
Hundred Moons spans nearly five decades and two continents as we follow the
spirited Carmona family, Alta California’s Ohlone people, the zealous
Junípero Serra and his Franciscan missionaries, and the heavy-handed
Spanish military that sought to control them all. As richly drawn as the
landscapes they inhabit, my characters meet indignity and deprivation with
resourcefulness and compassion in the timeless search for where they fit in
a world undergoing monumental change.

About the Author

Besides being something that I felt the need to accomplish in my lifetime,
I wrote Five Hundred Moons because, since I was a young boy, I have wondered
about the people in whose footsteps I tread. Along the beaches, over the
coastal terraces, and in the redwood forests, the Ohlone lived and thrived
without permanent structures, manufactured goods, domesticated animals, or
traditional agriculture. They hunted and gathered to sustain themselves and
formed societies that lasted hundreds if not thousands of years. They
demonstrated fire ecology and managed the abundant natural resources
surrounding them in a sustaining way.

I recently walked through the old-growth redwood loop near Felton,
California. Surrounded by towering ancient trees, I felt the presence of its
former inhabitants. I imagined I could hear their songs and see their
villages spread out in the filtered light. To the Ohlone, those trees were
as alive as any human who walked beneath them. I envisioned the great
grizzly bear, the soaring eagle, the stealthy lion, and the cautious
deer—all intimate to the Ohlone world. It is a world now lost, but I
hope the mindfulness and sensibilities they practiced still hold a strong
thread of existence in our present-day realities, perhaps rekindled in the
reading of my book.

I’m 70 years old, retired, married for 43 years to my wife, Jennie. I live
in Santa Cruz, California. I have three sons that live close by, as well as
four grandchildren

Contact Links

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Jacob’s Melody Blitz

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Harmony in Autism

Children’s Book

Date Published: May 7, 2024

Publisher: MindStir Media

 

 

Meet Jacob, an autistic friend who sees the world in his own way.
Struggling to make friends, he discovers the power of music- and music
therapy- with the help of a caring teacher. In the rhythm of challenges and
quiet moments, Jacob finds his unique voice, proving that being different is
extraordinary. Join Jacob’s musical journey, where every note tells a story
of belonging and strength.

About the Author

Jacqueline Diaz

Jacqueline Diaz is a thought leader championing to make workplaces more
inclusive and accepting of neurodiversity. As the co-owner of a recruiting
agency and the founder of a The Steven Spectrum Career Project, a nonprofit
dedicated to placing the neurodiverse into the workforce, she dedicates
herself to empowering individuals of all backgrounds to thrive in their
careers.

Driven by a strong commitment to mental health, Jacqueline sees the
important link between wellness and professional success. She fearlessly
challenges the status quo and says work cultures need to make mental health
a priority, it’s not just ideal, it’s essential.

Jacqueline aims to create real change, one idea at a time. Through her
work, she raises up diverse voices and promotes environments where everyone
can succeed using their unique talents. Her mission extends far beyond mere
inspiration; she aims to spark meaningful change.

 

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The Maker of Worlds Week Blast

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Fantasy

Date Published: 05-22-2024

Publisher: Evolved Publishing

 

 

If you had the chance to remake the world, what kind of world would you
choose?

When tragedy strikes Lucas Mack’s young life, he desperately yearns to
escape its sorrow, and takes an improbable leap through the mythical
maelstrom. Rather than splashing down on the far side like his neighbors,
he’s transported to a magical realm where he has the power to redefine not
only who he is, but the world in which he resides.

As he stumbles about trying to find his way, he meets Mia, an equally
troubled fellow pilgrim. With the help of a mystical guide and an aging
wizard, they navigate the enchanted land while learning to control their
newfound powers. Yet this realm is more complex than they expected, with
seasoned sorcerers who’ve been corrupted by the sinister side of
magic.

Limited by natural law and seduced by magic’s power, they are tested as
never before. Will the gift of magic bring renewed hope or drive them to the
edge of the void?

 

The Maker of Worlds tablet

 

About the Author

David Litwack

The urge to write first struck at age sixteen when working on a newsletter
at a youth encampment in the woods of northern Maine. It may have been the
wild night when lightning flashed at sunset followed by the northern lights
rippling after dark. Or maybe it was the newsletter’s editor, a girl with
eyes the color of the ocean. But he was inspired to write about the blurry
line between reality and the fantastic.

Using two fingers and lots of white-out, he religiously typed five pages a
day throughout college and well into his twenties. Then life intervened. He
paused to raise two sons and pursue a career, in the process — and without
prior plan — becoming a well-known entrepreneur in the software industry,
founding several successful companies. When he found time again to daydream,
the urge to write returned.

David now lives in the Great Northwest. He no longer limits himself to five
pages a day and is thankful every keystroke for the invention of the word
processor.

 

Contact Links

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Facebook: David Litwack – Author

Twitter: @DavidLitwack

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Taken by the Valkyrie Teaser

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A Paranormal Women’s Fiction Novella

 

Taken, Book 6

 

Paranormal Women’s Fiction

Date Published: July 5, 2024

 

 

Kara is tired of her role as a Valkyrie, not that she has much choice.
Being a Valkyrie is her identity. It’s in her blood. But she can only
witness so much death and destruction. Her faith in humanity has waned.
Until she meets Eric.

Eric, a retired Airman, is just as tired. He’s seen things he
believes no one else would understand. Then he picks up Kara and his world
is turned upside down. She’s the one he never saw coming and the one
he can’t live without — if only she can handle his past.

The past might not be more than they can overcome, but what if these two
warriors are exactly what they each need?

 

Taken by the Valkyrie teaser

EXCERPT

 

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2024 Megan Slayer

 

“Don’t you dare get attached.”

Kara folded her arms and groaned. She’d heard that line so many times
through the centuries. What did attachments have to do with her? She
wasn’t about to hook up with anyone long-term again. She’d made
that mistake once and nearly paid with her life.

Not again.

Brynhildr glared at her. “You’re not listening.”

Kara snorted and shifted her attention from her thoughts to the elder
Valkyrie. “You’re right. I’m not.” She mentally
repeated the rules — Valkyries are duty-bound, not permitted to form
attachments, should stay free and vigilant.

Fine. Except she didn’t want to be on duty any longer. The job had
become too dangerous. She’d long tired of the blood, the gore, the
anger. She’d retrieved so many warriors from the field of battle and
delivered them to Valhalla, but she could only take the devastation for so
long.

“I don’t like you getting into scuffles in bars.”
Brynhildr shook her head and leaned her elbows on the high-top table.
“You’re looking for trouble. What do you have? A death
wish?”

“What if I do?” She picked at the peanut shell remaining in the
bowl. The bartender needed to replenish the snacks. When the monster came
back around, she’d say something.

“What do you mean?” Brynhildr asked. “You’re
getting careless, like you’re inviting trouble. You do know
there’s something big planned for you.”

“Is there?” At least she didn’t have to explain herself.
She wasn’t about to tell the elder she wanted to rest for a long time
— like forever. She’d contemplated final solutions a few times, but
the idea of actually dying scared her. Her ex had tried to kill her, but
she’d been reincarnated. Helgi swore he’d never let her forget
him.

She hadn’t.

But she also didn’t want to be with him any longer.

“There’s a plan for you, Kara. Don’t jeopardize
it.” Brynhildr sighed and reached for Kara’s arm.
“What’s got you so upset? Talk to me. You can’t bottle it
inside or you’ll lose the battle.”

She knew that all too well. Brynhildr was right. They did need to talk.
“I don’t want to retrieve any longer. I want a break. I
can’t handle the death and gore anymore. I’m tired of seeing so
much pain. My heart can’t take it. I don’t want to settle down,
but I need time away. I’ve thought about just ending it all to make
the pain go away.”

“Don’t do that.” Brynhildr squeezed Kara’s bicep.
“You’re my dear friend. When you feel that way again, you tell
me. I’ll sit with you as long as you need and even when you
don’t.”

“I know you will.” She’d never doubted her friend and
elder Valkyrie. “What’s this big thing planned for
me?”

“Promise me you’ll call me when you get low.” Brynhildr
held tight to Kara’s arm. “Promise.”

“I will.” She wouldn’t go back on that.

“But you asked about the something big,” Brynhildr said.
“Not all warriors need to go to Valhalla. Some need care here first.
It’s up to you if you’re interested in giving that care before
they can go. It doesn’t mean they’re on the battlefield. In some
cases, they’re still fighting even though they’re
home.”

“Still?” she murmured. Someone else understood what she saw
when she closed her eyes?

“You might even find yourself along the way.”

She hadn’t expected the elder to say that. She’d expected to
stay lost and drift away. But if she could help someone, that would be good
— if she could even help. Most people were afraid of her. What if the
person she was supposed to assist didn’t want her help? What if they
didn’t like her?

“We have someone specific in mind for your first job. What if I could
tell you what he looks like?” Brynhildr asked. “Could show
you?”

“You could?” Now the elder had her full attention. “Show
me.”

“Are you interested in taking a different route and helping
him?”

She hesitated. She should say no and return to sulking. “I am.”
The words spilled off her tongue. She didn’t hear the undercurrent of
conversation in the bar, didn’t smell the cigarettes and stale beer in
the air, or even notice the smoke swirling around her. Her senses
hyper-focused on what Brynhildr said. “I want to see him.”

“Very well.” Brynhildr produced a mirror.

The image of a man formed in the glass. Brown hair, crinkles around his
brown eyes, tension in his posture, too thin, but handsome. Kara narrowed
her eyes. He was damn cute, but wasn’t he off-limits? “I
can’t get attached to him?”

“You know the code.”

She did.

She also wasn’t entirely sure what he’d be like. He might be a
jerk. Have the  personality of a brick. Or he could be damn sexy,
enticing, and sweet. Just lost too. He could be the kind of man a woman
wanted to chase, to wrap up in, and never let go. The kind she wanted to
kiss, touch, and tease. To feel moving inside her.

Not the perfect man — but damn close.

If he really existed.

He might not.

There wasn’t much point in getting her hopes up.

“Just don’t fall in love.” Brynhildr shook her head.
“Remember how that worked out with Helgi? This one might be a better
fit and not nearly so violent, but you’re a proud Valkyrie, and you
should remain unattached.”

“I should.” She’d followed the rules during this life.
Previous ones? Not so much. This time around, she wanted to be a good
Valkyrie. A proud one. She didn’t have time for romance. No time to
waste on something that wasn’t going to last.

What if it did? What if this wasn’t just a passing fancy? What if
they fell in love?

She had to stop thinking like this. Just because falling in love was
possible didn’t mean it’d happen. Falling on her head was just
as possible. Gods, it was more believable. She wasn’t a kid and
didn’t need love.

Right?

Everyone could live without love and affection.

What if she didn’t want to any longer? What if she wanted to be
romanced?

What if he had the key to her happiness, and he held the key to her
heart?

Only the power of the gods could show her that truth.

Where was a god when she needed one?

“He’s here in Eerie. I’ll bet you’ve seen
him,” Brynhildr said. “Don’t spook him. I know
you’re good at being blunt.”

 

 

About the Author

Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author
of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing
since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary
and paranormal to LGBTQ and white hot themes. No matter what the length, her
works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her
characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s
been nominated at the LRC for Best Author, Best Contemporary, Best
Ménage, Best BDSM and Best Anthology. Her books have made it to the
bestseller lists on various e-tailer sites.

When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as
well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but
football is her sport of choice. She’s an active member of the Friends
of the Keystone-LaGrange Public library.

 

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