Tag Archives: dark fantasy

by Jennifer Reed/ bookjunkiez | December 10, 2024 · 5:00 am

Trust is Sacred Teaser Tuesday

(Medically Necessary 3)

LGBTQ, Dark Fantasy, Steamy

Date Published: December 13, 2024

Publisher: Changeling Press

Without trust, nothing is sacred. Not even long-held beliefs.

Oliver’s terrible secret is eating both himself and his would-be mate
alive. He and Amir have been apart for three months, and absence indeed
makes the heart grow fonder. Unfortunately, there’s terror, pain, and
deceit lying between them.

Amir thinks purging and confession are medically necessary for spiritual
and physical well-being. Oliver will stop at almost nothing to hide his
scars.

Can these two be mated in truth or will Oliver’s past and
Amir’s unstated fears push them away before the werewolves’ most
sacred holiday, Winter Solstice?

Excerpt

August

In a very real sense, Oliver’s heart hadn’t ached this way in
years. It was a mixture of longing and a sweet promise of eventual
homecoming. He’d just sent his lover away on an airplane, back to New
York. Amir would gather together his staff, choose a new doctor to take over
his practice, and then be back down here to live with Oliver.

To become Oliver’s mate.

Werewolves didn’t have spouses. Except when they did. They also
didn’t have Life Dancers. That was a psychic vampire thing, knowledge
Oliver had gained over the last month. Wolves had mates, a name for their
beloved, the person with whom they wanted to spend the rest of their
lives.

He’d had a mate before. This time would be different. He’d
protect his mate. He’d keep him safe, no matter the cost, and he
wouldn’t allow his nightmares to drive them apart. To shove his lover
toward the singular choice of suicide.

He pulled up in front of Llosgia Maxine’s house, where his heart told
him he belonged. Granted, she hadn’t exactly accepted her title of
alpha, or the duties commensurate with that status change. She would,
though. He had faith. Well, mostly he had faith. Sometimes he worried that
Tilthos Charles’s words would come true and Llosgia Maxine would
choose to take up no title at all.

Except, of course, she’d already claimed Director of Werewolf Watch
for herself. Maybe she couldn’t take on that responsibility
and…

The front door opened and Tilthos Charles stepped out, looking even
stronger than he had the night before, when he’d arrived at Llosgia
Maxine’s and asked for a place for himself and his lover to sleep.
Now, in the dimness of false dawn, the alpha above all alphas
shouldn’t have been able to use his limited vision to see more than a
car approaching. However, that didn’t seem to be the case because he
smiled and waved as if he knew exactly who was arriving.

Oliver considered driving away. He didn’t want to hear the political
answer as to why the Kreisha pack was still allowed to exist after all the
shit three of its members had pulled. Geoffrey Huntington, Noah Travers, and
Josiah Cobb had plotted to drive Tilthos Charles mad. They had made it so
hearing his rightful title had caused him physical and psychic pain.
They’d forced him to attack his lover, Luis. Now, though, surely
Tilthos Charles was coming to tell him they’d been forgiven for some
fucked-up political reason that boiled down to the alpha above all
alphas… what? Didn’t want to kill? That might just be it.

The alpha above all alphas’ soft voice was in his head suddenly. Open
the door, Oliver.

Oliver unlocked the doors. He waited for the alpha above all alphas to sit
beside him, or order him to get out of the car, denying him his
escape.

He acknowledged his expectations had no basis in reality, especially
because everything he’d seen of Tilthos Charles when the leader was in
his right mind was favorable. Still, he didn’t actually know how
Tilthos Charles governed. He was only assuming, based on the one alpha he
knew, that Tilthos Charles might have allowed power to go to his head.

“So uncharitable,” the alpha above all alphas said after
opening the door. He sat in the passenger seat, folded his white cane, the
symbol of his visual impairment, and then buckled himself in. “Feel
free to drive if it will make you less edgy.”

“You’re reading my every thought?” Oliver asked.
He’d assumed his shields were better than that.

“Not quite. You’re not projecting everything, I don’t
think, but you’re very unhappy with me and that carries just
fine.”

Oliver relocked the doors and pulled out of the driveway. “Where are
we going?”

“Somewhere that you can drive and listen without getting us in an
accident would be good.”

Oliver grunted.

To his amazement, the leader of most of the world’s werewolves on
this side of the Atlantic laughed. “You sound like Luis when
he’s unhappy. Please tell me what’s bothering you.”

Oliver couldn’t bring himself to accuse the alpha above all alphas of
any wrongdoing. Instead, he asked, “What happened to the six wolves
who attacked you?”

“Huntington, Travers, and Cobb have been placed with different packs,
separated by quite a bit of geography. Their new alphas reassure me their
movements will be closely observed.”

Oliver turned off Llosgia Maxine’s street and just headed south, away
from Washington, DC. He knew he wouldn’t be able to drive in heavy
traffic and listen. “Why are they still alive?”

“I’m not in the habit of killing every single wolf who’s
tried a coup. There would be considerably fewer wolves in the world if I
exacted that sort of revenge. They’re being watched by three alphas I
trust implicitly and I’m sure these bastards will show their true
colors again. And unlike in baseball, they only get two chances.” He
turned his head away from Oliver. “They’re not the only ones
I’m watching. Kreisha Alexander let this go on right under his nose.
At best, the very best, that makes him not perceptive enough.”

He faced Oliver again. “I’m asking you to keep me informed if
he does anything inappropriate, dangerous, or careless. I don’t order
you because I don’t want to step on your agency that way.”

“Please order me,” Oliver blurted.

That got him a raised eyebrow.

“Kreisha Alexander is in the habit of ordering his wolves not to
share things, good or bad, outside the pack. If I have your order first, and
because you outrank him, I’ll be able to tattletale.” He
grimaced. “That came out more bitter than I anticipated or meant.
I’m sorry.”

Tilthos Charles seemed to have caught onto another part of his speech,
however, because he said, “Is there anything you’re forbidden to
share with me?” There was a growl in his voice.

About the Author

Emily Carrington is a multipublished author of male/male and transgender
women’s speculative fiction. Seeking a world made of equality, she
created SearchLight to live out her dreams. But even SearchLight has its
problems, and Emily is looking forward to working all of these out with a
host of characters from dragons and genies to psychic vampires. And in the
contemporary world she’s named “Sticks & Stones,”
Emily has vowed to create small towns where prejudice is challenged by a
passionate quest for equality. Find her on Facebook at Shapeshifter Central
or on her website.

Contact Links

Author’s Website

Emily on Facebook

Emily on Twitter

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

Pre-Order Today

Bog Hag Anthology Blitz

Dark Fantasy, Lovecraftian Fantasy, Horror, Occult and Supernatural,
Witchcraft and Magic

Publication Date: October 14, 2024

Whether she’s crawling across a sweltering bayou or swimming
languidly through a swamp, the bog hag watches and waits.

Join sixteen AuthorTubers as they explore the allure and mystery of the Bog
Hag, turning her from a villain to a gal with a social calendar, a vendetta,
or even a need to be the best she can be.

Any and all proceeds from the sales of this anthology go to Quill Cottage
Wildlife, a 501C3 nonprofit.

Featuring A Murky Reckoning

Garwick Greedgill is a fisherman desperate to become a legend in the realm
where he dwells. When he pulls a horrific creature up from the polluted sea,
he sacrifices it to the legendary sorceress who is said to live at the
center of the bog near which he dwells.

Yadira of the Roots is said to be the daughter of Nyarlathotep, the
Wish-Bringer From Beyond the Stars. Will Garwick’s actions earn favor
from the storied Bog Hag, or does another fate await him?

Excerpt

An Aquatic Reckoning

Back at the dock, the fisherman hurried to the stables, paying the stable
hand four Electrotokens to rent a cart and a pair of mules to haul his catch
away. He promised to return the cart and the animals the next day.

Garwick Greedgill was thick around the midsection and had a sunken chest
and narrow frame that belied the strength of his wiry arms. His leathery,
tanned skin bore witness to many years spent on a boat’s deck under the
sun’s harsh glare. His hair was a bristly mix of silver and gunmetal gray,
poking through the many holes in a threadbare red cap embossed with the
emblem of a long-forgotten fishing guild. A heavy forehead and scowling brow
framed eyes a sickly shade of murky green, reminiscent of a polluted ocean.
His broad nose bent slightly to one side courtesy of a mishap with the sail
boom. Countless hours spent retrieving catch after catch left his calloused
hands stained with fish scales and innards as he searched for the grand haul
that always eluded him.

Garwick wore frayed puce trousers held up by a filthy, tattered flaxen rope
belt. His once-bright cerise tunic, covered in various colored patches where
he had mended it over the years, was threadbare. It hung loosely over his
prominent belly. The soles of his scuffed brown boots were worn thin,
leaving his feet vulnerable to the cold and damp. He wore a necklace of
oddly shaped stones and bones that he believed would attract good luck. The
longed-for luck seldom materialized.

Garwick drove the cart as close as possible to the bog extending beyond his
property’s edge. He lived in a ramshackle hut between the bog and a
twisting, moss-covered path that led to a meandering creek. Near the hut was
a dingy shed. Every corner held remnants of his profession—a
collection of rusty hooks, tattered nets, and an old, cracked barrel filled
with miscellaneous items of dubious worth. A box containing lucky tokens
collected over the years sat on a dusty shelf. Best of all, there was a
wondrous grimoire. An odor of decay emanated from the book’s brown hide
cover. Garwick did not mind the strange texture or unpleasant scent of the
tome. Based on today’s catch, the grimoire’s magic had already begun to
work.

About the Author

C. L. Hart, the owner and sole employee of Naughty Netherworld Press and
Ornery Owl Ventures, is spoken of in hushed tones. She is an editor who
writes or a writer who edits. She is also described as The Mad Scribe of the
Northeastern Colorado Plains, The Terrible Old Woman, and The Author That
Should Not Be. She is a member of ACES Editing Society, the Denver Horror
Collective, First Coast Romance Writers, the H. P. Lovecraft Historical
Society, Passionate Ink (writing as Lil DeVille), Regency Romance Writers,
and Rocky Mountain Romance Writers.

Ms. Hart shares a home in a remote rural town of 134 souls with her adult
son and three cats. Her sense of fashion is best described as Early
Twenty-First Century Unmade Bed. This disabled former nurse can usually be
found arguing with herself about subplots or rehabilitating eldritch
horrors.

When not penning sanity-destroying works of dystopian fiction, Lovecraftian
fantasy, or old-school horror with the occasional sweet romance thrown in to
upset the cosmic apple cart, Ms. Hart enjoys creating baked goods she hopes
will be considered palatable by someone besides eldritch horrors.

Follow C. L. Hart

Need a professional alpha or beta reader or editor?

Purchase Today

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Tagged as Bog Hag Anthology, C. L. Hart, dark fantasy, Horror, Lovecraftian Fantasy, Occult and Supernatural, Witchcraft and Magic

by Jennifer Reed/ bookjunkiez | October 15, 2024 · 5:00 am

Dark Legion Teaser

Dark Fantasy, Romance, Horror

Date Published: October 18, 2024

Darkness is falling…

Things at Woods University are not what they seem. When Joey Sumner’s
roommate Maria joins the growing ranks of blazer-wearing supergeeks who roam
the campus in emotionless packs, Joey begins to think she has a problem.
Then Joey stumbles upon a secret ritual being performed on campus, and her
world is turned upside down. Joey and her boyfriend Will are forced to fight
for their lives against an ancient evil cult that is preying on the student
body. To make matters worse, their boss is one of them, and his obsession
for Joey goes way beyond thinking she has a cute ass…

Evil is growing…

A year after the mysterious death of her husband Terrence, Ada Ross is
still seeking answers. When handsome detective Eric Perfater comes back into
her life offering a chance to unravel the mystery of her husband’s demise,
Ada is more than ready to help. She’s also willing to throw off her endless
loneliness and wantonly offer herself to sexy Eric in bed… But a dark
shadow falls across their chance at happiness. Ada is a pawn in a desperate
man’s ploy to hang onto the past and take control of a secret society whose
very existence threatens the entire world.

Can the forces of evil’s hungry claws be defeated? Or will they all be
consumed by the Dark Legion?

Publisher’s Note: This duet contains the previously published novellas
Legion: University and Legion: Adult Education.

Excerpt from University

“You’re late, G.I. Jane.” Will Martin winked at her as she walked
into the lab where they worked together and pulled the backpack from her
shoulder.

Joey grinned at him, a big stupid grin no doubt, but she didn’t care.

With his golden skin, sun-streaked hair and powerful body, Will was
nobody’s idea of a geeky scientist. Tall, handsome, with a bold nose, a sexy
mouth and dark blue eyes that could glitter with humor or darken to the
color of a stormy sea. Joey had never seen such a perfect blend of beauty
and intelligence in any other man. In the realm of science there was no
challenge he wouldn’t take on, no subject he wouldn’t tackle. Even Joey with
her very limited knowledge of virology knew that Will was well on his way to
making a difference in the world. It wouldn’t surprise her if he were the
one to someday find a cure for the AIDS virus, ending the suffering and
death of millions. She had that much faith in him.

His brilliant mind fascinated her almost as much as his hot, muscular body
and that was saying a lot. How many times had she satisfied herself while
thinking about Will? How many late night dreams had he haunted? The touch of
his rough hands on her aching breasts always felt so real in her dreams, so
good. She’d swear that the solid length of his body between her thighs, the
sensual glide of his cock in and out of her slick, ready passage were a
reality while she was dreaming.

Until she woke up in a sweaty tangle of bed sheets. After several seconds
of swearing and sometimes several more seconds with her vibrator, she could
usually get back to sleep. But not always. Sometimes she’d lie there and
think of clever ways to ask him out. A couple of times she even meant to
carry out her plans to ask him out to dinner, then maybe even ask him to her
bed. But she always chickened out at the last moment.

Joey grabbed her lab coat from its peg on the wall and watched Will as she
slipped it on. Will had no idea that she was totally infatuated with him and
she was afraid to make a move. They worked together after all. He was a
brilliant scientist. She was just a girl who’d gone into the army to pay for
college on the G.I. Bill and was now a way-older-than-average freshman. Joey
continued to watch him as he scribbled notes on a steno pad and peered into
the microscope before him, his muscular upper body straining against the lab
coat he wore. How could someone like her ever hope to get the attention of
someone like him?

“That’s new.” Dr. Rafe Bowen caught her off guard. Hooking the
golden charm bracelet that circled her wrist with a long finger, he pulled
her arm up to scrutinize it before releasing her.

“Yes,” she said, recovering from the start. “It was a
gift.”

“From whom?” he asked in his clipped British accent, his hazel
eyes watching her intently.

Her eyes darted to Will. But he didn’t appear to be paying attention to
their conversation. Damn him! “My sister,” Joey answered
blandly.

Rafe Bowen nodded, but continued to gaze at her speculatively. Rafe was her
supervisor in the lab. He was a handsome man with his chestnut hair and
well-defined, cultured features. He wasn’t as tall as Will, his build
average. From what little she knew of him he was probably in his early
forties but he looked remarkably young for his age. He could pass for
someone in his early thirties easily. It helped that he was easy to work for
and generous with his time. He taught several virology courses in addition
to his research.

Joey had long suspected that her boss had more than a passing interest in
her. Rafe would stare at her when he thought she wasn’t looking and it made
Joey pretty damned uncomfortable. He’d always insisted that she call him by
his given name, though she never had. But he’d given her a job when she’d
given up hope of finding one. That alone had made her first year at Woods
University much easier than it could have been for a twenty-five-year-old
freshman.

“Why are you two here?” he asked, frowning.

Joey exchanged a glance with Will and let him answer.

“Next week is spring break,” Will pointed out. “If we don’t
run the analysis on the Aspergillus cultures now, we’ll lose them. They
won’t be any good when we get back.”

Joey couldn’t help with the analysis, wouldn’t know how. She knew that
Aspergillus was a mold and a respiratory allergen but that was about
it.

But the money sure would come in handy.

“What about tomorrow and Friday?”

“Exams,” Will and Joey answered in unison.

Rafe blew out a frustrated sigh. “You’re not staying long. I have to
be at a meeting in an hour.”

“We’ll lock up,” Will assured him.

Joey’s heart began thumping in earnest. Alone with Will Martin? Oh, yes,
that would be fine.

Rafe’s expression grew darker. It wasn’t like him.

“You’ll leave when I do,” he said curtly. When it appeared Will
was about to say something else, he added, “End of
discussion.”

Will’s gaze followed him as Rafe marched to his office and closed the door
behind him. He shook his head, giving Joey a sardonic half smile.

“What crawled up his ass today?” Will glanced up at the lab’s
clock, prompting her to do the same. It was five minutes to six in the
evening. “Want to get started on prep?”

Joey nodded and walked to the autoclave on the counter opposite the lab
door. Pulling open the door, she frowned when she found it empty.

“Crap! Someone took all the instruments I autoclaved last night,”
Joey grumbled. How would they have time to do anything now if she had to
sterilize more instruments?

Will glanced over his shoulder at her but didn’t seem concerned.
“Turner probably took them for his class, that lazy asshole. Just
sterilize some more. We’ve got time.”

Joey motioned toward Rafe’s office with her thumb.

“Let me worry about him.” Will waved her on.

When Joey hesitated he smiled, a flash of white teeth. Her nipples
tightened to hard little points in an instant.

“Go on.” He motioned her to continue with her work. “How’s
your French class going?”

I know all the dirty words. I could recite them for you.

“I’m doing okay.” Wasn’t that a waste of a good conversation
opener? Think! “I’ve really enjoyed the biology labs. The experiments
have been very interesting.”

“Yeah?” Will’s back was to her. He kept right on with his work.
“Which ones interested you the most?”

Her mind went blank. That would teach her to use something she had little
interest in to get his attention. Shit! “The genetics
experiments,” she finally answered. She knew there had been a
couple.

“I think the corn genetics experiment is the best that they
offer.” He paused a moment as he read over his notes. “Morten had
a good idea there. Students get to germinate and grow F2 corn seeds and
determine the inheritance pattern of the albino trait and what the P and F2
generations’ genotypes must have been. Did you like that one?”

“I did.” Joey remembered it anyway.

“We might make a scientist out of you yet.” Will peered at her
over his shoulder. “What are your plans for your time here? I don’t
think I’ve ever asked you that.”

Her mouth went dry.

To jump your bones?

About the Author

Isabella Jordan is the alter ego of an otherwise stressed out web designer,
programmer, and internet junkie. When she’s not trying to perfect her own
personal caffeine IV drip, she enjoys spending time with her family, doing
volunteer work, and writing. She loves creating new stories of all kinds and
chatting with readers and friends.

Isabella would love to hear from her readers!

Author Website

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

Pre-Order Today

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Tagged as dark fantasy, Dark Legion, Horror, Isabella Jordan, Romance

by Jennifer Reed/ bookjunkiez | October 9, 2024 · 5:00 am

Trust is Fraught Blitz

LGBTQ, Dark Fantasy, Interracial Romance

Date Published: October 11, 2024

From insisting on a bed for their first time to protecting Amir from
everything, Oliver is stepping all over Amir’s last nerve. It’s
almost too bad the submissive wolf wants dominant Oliver in the worst
way.

Amir’s frustration with Oliver doesn’t cancel out his
attraction to the other wolf. As they fall deeper into the dangers of the
psychic world in an effort to rescue their leader, their love may be the
only thing keeping them sane.

As the leader of the werewolves sinks further into insanity, Amir and
Oliver are pushed to their limits to find out what’s causing his
decline. Once they discover the truth, it’s another struggle, this one
against prejudice and time, to rescue the alpha above all alphas.

EXCERPT

It was full dark when Oliver jerked awake. He sat up, smelling his own
sweat and the aftermath of sex.

He flashed back to the most traumatic time he’d woken to the stench
of spent jizz. Geoffrey, the beta of the Kreisha pack, had been standing
over him, cum dripping from his rapidly shrinking cock.

Oliver swung his legs over the side of the bed, fully expecting to find
himself surrounded by the enemy. His eyes were adjusting to the darkness,
and he picked out the shadowy form of a lampshade. He reached out, almost
knocking the lamp over in his need to shed light on the situation. When the
bulb glowed, he took a quick look around the room, feeling the urge to
ensure he was alone and safe. He didn’t quite dare to rise to his feet
because his legs felt like they’d turned to water.

He missed Kenneth Jeremiah in the worst way all of a sudden, and he was
unable to hide from the truth, that he missed his lover not for Kenneth
Jeremiah’s own sake but because his lover had kept the nightmares at
bay. Ever since being attacked, which had been two months before Kenneth
Jeremiah died, the nightmares had been threatening. But he hadn’t
actually dreamed of what happened until after his beloved was dead. Kenneth
Jeremiah had possessed a rare empathic gift, one that allowed him to soothe
others’ minds.

Sort of like Amir, he thought, but his terror kept him dwelling on the
past.

He was alone in the downstairs bedroom of the house he rented in
Washington, D.C.’s Northwest quarter. Why the hell did it smell of
sex? And why didn’t his ass hurt?

Oliver’s gorge rose. He swallowed against the need to throw up.
Gradually, his stomach settled and new information came to his nose. Yes, it
was his own jizz he smelled on the air, but it was mixed with another
male’s. The aroma didn’t spark a flashback but seemed to wrap
around him, comforting him.

Amir’s scent surrounded him.

He’d had sex, all right, except it had really been making love. There
was no fear or rage clouding the healthy leavings of two werewolves who
cared for each other. They hadn’t gone all the way. Oliver had refused
to claim Amir’s virgin body while they were so spun up from the events
of the last few days and when Oliver himself had been so desperate for
sexual contact that he hadn’t been sure he could be as gentle as was
needed. They’d had oral sex, and now that his head was clearing, he
realized he could taste Amir’s salty spend on his tongue. He licked
his lips, found a little more of the heavenly liquid at one corner, and
closed his eyes to savor it.

His cock stirred, although only a little as he fully realized he was alone
in the bedroom. Where had Amir gone? Had he woken as Oliver had, frightened,
and escaped into the house at large, or to the world beyond these walls?
What if Oliver’s nightmare had been prophetic rather than a misplaced
response to his joy?

He tried to push himself to his feet, but his legs wouldn’t support
him. He flopped back onto the bed. Cursing softly, he performed a quick
self-analysis, looking for sore spots or other indicators he’d been
drugged. He detected nothing. Likewise, he felt no alien presence in his
mind. His psychic shields were up and strong.

Still, his legs trembled. Clutching his knees, he tried to get a handle on
his fear.

It hadn’t been all that long since he’d dreamed of the gang
rape Geoffrey Huntington had led. Maybe only three weeks. Still, he was
shocked every time it recurred. Hadn’t going through it once been
enough? Apparently not for his traumatized body. Oliver could have bested
three out of the four werewolves who raped him during that long five hours,
but he’d surrendered to their brutality to save Kenneth Jeremiah. When
the attack had begun, he’d expected to find Travers and Cobb involved
because they were closer to him in rank, both being lower gammas. But the
three besides Geoffrey, who was the beta of the Kreisha pack, had been Carl,
Matthias, and Scott, all very low-ranked wolves, although not quite
submissive. He’d always thought their ranks were why they’d
participated. Geoffrey might have forced them.

Thinking about that night, all alone in the midst of raving beasts,
wasn’t going to steady his legs. He needed to get himself under
control so he could go looking for Amir and ensure his new lover was
safe.

He forced himself to lie down on the bed. He inhaled Amir’s scent
rising from his pillow, an aroma made of sweat and excitement and just a
touch of disinfectant because Amir was a physician. Oliver breathed in and
out, counting the seconds for each inhale and exhale. He added three seconds
of holding his breath between these two acts and slowly his heartbeat
stopped racing out of control. Amir’s joy and release held a comfort
that Oliver hadn’t found since before the gang rape.

He sat up before that thought could take hold. He focused on the bedroom
door, which was ajar. He did another quick sweep of the room, this time with
nose fully engaged. He didn’t detect any blood or stench of fear. Amir
must have left the room of his own volition.

With this idea in his head, Oliver was finally able to rise. He tugged on
the pants he’d been wearing and started for the hallway. Following
Amir’s scent, he went into the bathroom across the way, where Amir had
apparently washed up because the tang of citrus soap hung in the air. Had he
come out here naked?

Needing to solve that mystery because Amir walking anywhere potentially
public without his clothes didn’t seem like the doctor of magical
creatures at all. Back in the bedroom, however, Oliver saw all of
Amir’s articles of clothing were still there.

Concern reared its ugly head again and he trotted from the room. He stopped
by the front door, but Amir hadn’t come this way. He trailed the scent
of soap to the stairs, and that was where it changed. The addition of
fur’s rich aroma told Oliver Amir had slipped from human guise to
lupine seeming before he went up the staircase to the second floor.

His night vision had fully adjusted to the dimness, and he climbed the
stairs silently, keeping his ears open for Amir or their mutual
patient.

Maybe that was it, he thought as he put his foot on the third step. Their
mutual patient, Tilthos Charles, the alpha above all alphas in the Americas
and Canada, was ill. Amir had managed to rule out any poisons or physical
cause for Tilthos Charles’s growing madness, leaving it to Oliver to
figure out the psychic cause. Oliver hadn’t yet solved the mystery
beyond the realization Tilthos Charles was being forced to share his mind
with five or six other werewolves who meant him harm.

Maybe Tilthos Charles was the reason Amir had left the bedroom and not
because he’d endured a terrible dream. Oliver purposely made a little
noise on the stairs to warn those up on the second floor that he was coming.
He couldn’t quite make himself call out or even whisper. His throat
had tightened, now with nervousness. What had he been thinking, making love
to Amir when they had a patient to look after?

He reached the landing between the first and second floors and paused.
Above him, out of sight because of the construction of the house, he heard a
very quiet growl.

About the Author

Contact Links

Author’s Website

Emily on Facebook

Emily on Twitter

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

Pre-Order Today

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Tagged as dark fantasy, Emily Carrington, Interracial Romance, LGBTQ, Trust is Fraught

by Jennifer Reed/ bookjunkiez | September 10, 2024 · 5:00 am

Savage Champion Blitz

Dark Fantasy

Date Published: April 23, 2024

From bestselling author Carla Swafford a new genre for fans of her gritty
romantic suspense books.

When a private investigator tracks down a client’s lost sister, he
discovers she’s not lost or the client’s sister. The woman is a vampire on a
campaign of vengeance. Somehow he must stop her killing spree and protect
her at the same time.

TORI AMHERST

I died years ago.

In my savage new life, I revenge the helpless.

But a hunter came. A human. A former cop. Now a private eye.

His body, his blood, and his wounded soul are perfect.

Then I discover I’m not a champion, but a terror.

RONAN MICHAELS

I died in her arms.

But I woke to a new life full of hate.

She hides a truth. I hate secrets.

I crave her body, her blood, and her lost soul.

Then I discover the lies.

I will get my revenge and she will be mine.

About the Author

Carla Swafford loves romance novels, action/adventure movies, and men, and
her books reflect that. And on top of it all, she’s crazy about
hockey. So, it’s no surprise she writes spicy romantic suspense filled
with mercenaries, motorcycle one-percenters, and southern criminals. And in
the last few years, she’s included sexy hockey players in books
without suspense, except for the kind that asks, how will they ever find
their happily ever after?

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