Tag Archives: dark fantasy

Lord of Storms Teaser Tuesday

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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.

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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

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

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Sleeping Dragon Preorder Blitz

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Dark Fantasy, Paranormal Women’s Fiction, LGBTQ

Date Published: April 19, 2024

 

 

Youltan lives a life of obligation and service, a slave to the desires of
others, harnessing the strange and powerful chaotic energies known as Ice
Magic. After a final betrayal by the people he protects, he finds himself
transported to the one being who holds the key to his freedom.

The wards tattooed across Garyn’s back ensure his total compliance,
trapping him in his own form of slavery, until one of the traitorous Mages,
the kind that devised this tortuous penance, is placed in his prison. Now
manipulating his way to freedom rules the sex-shifting dragon’s mind.

Garyn never expects Youltan to willingly sacrifice so much for a person he
barely knows. Nor does he expect to find the a core of passionate heat that
exists deep within Youltan’s soul. The fight for survival takes on new
dimensions and strains the very threads of their honor and morality.

But what would you expect….when you prod a Sleeping Dragon?

 

Sleeping Dragon Preorder paperback

 

EXCERPT

 

Feet braced apart, arms extended to their maximum length, he stood and
waited. There was nothing in his mind; his world was a blank slate, waiting
to be filled, waiting for the agonizing pleasure… and the horrific
pain.

Slowly, it began, drawing its energy from the very earth on which he stood.
Pulsing writhing ropes of energy, of magic, of power, twined around
themselves as they sought a rod, a bearer for their might.

Around his ankles they looped, slowly, like some starving creature seeking
sustenance. And what they found seemed to please them, for they began to
roll up the length of his body. Faster and faster they twined, their colors
the brilliant blue that exists in the heart of every fire, the icy white of
the coldest glacier, a sharp glaze of power blinding all who dared watch
this spectacle.

Up around his knees they crept, gaining confidence and speed with every
second. On and on, around his waist, over his chest, across his shoulders
until his head jerked back as if snapped by some unknown entity.

Blood-red lips parted, a scream locked within a frozen throat, and a fall
of silver white hair blew madly around his form in a wind created by power
and magic. Bright lavender eyes snapped open to reveal luminescent sparks of
pure white that illuminated those strange orbs, the eyes of an alien-one,
and the eyes of the demented.

Then the power seemed to lash out at its conduit, raising him to his toes
as wave after wave of pure energy penetrated his body, gained a purpose,
grew in its strength.

His body arched, his arms flying above his head as the sheer strength of
the thing that possessed him brought him to his toes, building and building
until his whole person was one shining, glowing being that seemed almost too
beautiful to view, yet too sinister and compelling to look away from.

Suddenly, a cry erupted from his throat, loud, agonized. The cry echoed
over the land as the very earth began to quake beneath his feet.

His piercing scream startled the onlookers, the curious who had gathered to
view this unusual feat, to watch what both heaven and hell had wrought and
then left to travel this land that they called their own.

But they were too stunned to look away, transfixed.

As he continued to scream, cry after cry of ecstatic pain, the energy that
converged on his body began to coagulate, to meld into one large beam of
power.

Still screaming, he forced his arms toward the pulsing dome that surrounded
the land, the thing that honor and history demanded he tend to, no matter
the cost.

His sudden silence was almost as unnerving as his screams had been, as the
world seemed to hold its breath in anticipation, as the tension built around
the young man, as the very gods seemed to tremble in fear.

Then, as the tension built to a plateau, then nothing. Soon the people
began to breathe easy, thinking the show was over, then one final
high-pitched scream exploded from his mouth.

And with that cry, a monstrous beam of light and power leapt from his body.
Blue, silver, white, it all mended and swirled as warring colors shot from
his body, his eyes, his mouth, following its given path, striking the
shields with an audible crash that almost sounded like the shrieking cry of
pure crystal shattering.

His body gave way in the face of such a massive energy burst, but the power
would not let his body fall. It supported him, swirled around him almost
lovingly, then began to drain the very life force from his body.

Head tossed back to its farthest, hair whipping around that face, obscuring
its near beauty from the frightened yet silent watchers, his body bowed and
his knees bent as he fought to retain some of himself from the hungry
energies that sought to leach his very essence from his body.

Trembling and panting, he whimpered once as the beam began to lose its
brilliant illumination, then faded altogether, growing weaker and weaker as
the conduit struggled to reclaim part of himself from the massive outpouring
of power.

Then, suddenly, almost as if it had never been, the beam of light
dispersed, exploded into a million glittering sparkles, before disappearing
cleanly from sight.

With a groan, the conduit dropped to his knees, his body falling backwards
as all the energy seemed to leave with the passing of the beam.

He knelt there, supple body bent backwards, breath struggling in his chest,
as his strange, lavender eyes drifted shut.

Then, as he took his first full breath, the watchers were amazed to see a
shadowy mist exhaled into the brilliant heat of the day, a breath that
seemed as cold as the arctic islands they once harnessed to create that
shield that protected them from the evils of the outside world.

Then his whole body began to spasm.

About the Author

Stephanie is a USA Today Best Selling, multi published, multi award-winning
author, Master Costumer, handicapped, wife and mother of two.

From sex-shifting, shape-shifting dragons to undersea worlds, sexually
confused elemental Fey and homo-erotic mysteries, all the way to
pastel-challenged urban sprites, Stephanie has done it all, and hopes to do
more.

Stephanie is an orator on her favorite subjects of writing and
world-building, a sometime teacher when you feed her enough tea and donuts,
an anime nut, a costumer, and a frequent guest of various sci-fi and writing
cons where she can be found leading panel discussions or researching varied
legends and theories to improve her writing skills.

Stephanie is known for her love of the outrageous, strong female
characters, believable worlds, male characters filled with depth, and
multi-cultural stories that make the reader sit up and take notice.

 

Contact Links

Author on Facebook

Author on Twitter

 

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

 

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Brake Check Blitz

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Horror, psychological thriller, dark fantasy, occult, fiction

Date Published: February 18, 2024

 

 

When winning turns deadly…

It’s 1972. On a scorching summer day in North Carolina, the sight of Rut,
the father of her child, cheating with the next-door neighbor, sends
pregnant Loretta into labor. Amidst the chaos, she promises that her baby
boy, Rich Richardson, will not follow in his father’s footsteps as a loser,
but become something much greater – a professional race car driver. Loretta
leaves the hospital’s entrance, filled with anticipation of a fresh start
and dreams of her baby’s prosperous future. However, the fairytale life she
had sold herself quickly takes a dark turn, when she is left with no choice
but to go back home to the child’s waiting father. Driven by a sense of
entitlement to fame and fortune, her impulsive decisions forever change her
and her son’s fate.

Are you ready to face the horrors that await?

Get your copy today and uncover the rollercoaster of frightening evil that
lurks beneath a young man’s life of fame.

 

About the Author

Brigitte, "Gitte," Tamar

Brigitte, “Gitte,” Tamar was born in a small rural Oregon town.
Growing up, she was enthralled by scary tales featuring poetic tones and
consistently gravitated towards writing darkened narratives. In the
different storylines, Brigitte explores the harsh realities of social issues
faced by today’s generations. This includes the dark outcomes brought on by
peer pressure, addiction, homelessness, mental illness, childhood trauma,
and abuse. She feels it is essential to share narratives that refrain from
sugarcoating the topics society tends to shy away from.

 

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Hel Blitz

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Horror, Dark fantasy, psychological thriller, fiction, occult

Date Published: July 17, 2023

 

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After losing his job at a genomic research company, Joel worries about his
ability to provide for his family, especially during the holiday season.
Even more concerning is how his unemployment may affect his perfect image
within the extremist community he has lived in since birth. Lured by the
idea of a quick fix, he impulsively books a flight for himself and his
family to Europe when the offer of a large inheritance arrives in his inbox.
Confident that he knows best, Joel blindly trusts a stranger’s invitation to
return to the village of his ancestors to collect his birthright. But rather
than wealth, they quickly discover that their lineage only possesses
monstrous truths with deadly consequences.

 

 

 About the Author

Brigitte, "Gitte," Tamar

Brigitte, “Gitte,” Tamar was born in a small rural Oregon town.
Growing up, she was enthralled by scary tales featuring poetic tones and
consistently gravitated towards writing darkened narratives. In the
different storylines, Brigitte explores the harsh realities of social issues
faced by today’s generations. This includes the dark outcomes brought on by
peer pressure, addiction, homelessness, mental illness, childhood trauma,
and abuse. She feels it is essential to share narratives that refrain from
sugarcoating the topics society tends to shy away from.

 

Contact Links

Website

Instagram

Twitter

Facebook

Goodreads

Bookbub

 

Purchase Link

Amazon

 

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Giant’s Garden Teaser Tuesday

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(Celtic Magic, Book 4)

 

Action Adventure, Dark Fantasy, Paranormal Women’s Fiction, Romance,
Suspense, Urban Fantasy

Date Published: June 16, 2023

 

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A grant to do doctorate work in a bleak corner of Northern Ireland is Penny
Gallagher’s last chance to find her wings and break free of her
oppressive industrialist boyfriend.

When she finds her time there has been engineered for her boyfriend’s
profit, it takes a voiceless giant of a man to help her discover her own
magic.

 

Giant's Garden paperback

Excerpt

Copyright ©2023 Siondalin O’Craig

 

Penny

The Giant’s Causeway

Sean Feeney took another long drag from his pocket flask. Heavy gold chains
around his wrist grated against the flask’s metal rim. Penny Gallagher
watched him sway unsteadily in his skinny designer jeans and black Converse
high tops.

He reached out and draped his bony arm around her shoulders. She
couldn’t tell whether it was to keep himself from falling over or an
awkward maneuver meant to be making a pass at her.

She hoped it was the latter. First off, they were standing at the top of a
cliff. Not just any cliff, but a bare, windswept cliff tumbled with black
hexagonal stone columns jutting out into the North Channel of the Irish Sea
between the north coast of Ireland and the west coast of Scotland. If Sean
dropped onto those lichen-pocked rocks it would mean a fatal mess involving
a lot of paperwork and long, dim conversations with uniformed authorities.
And if I fell… no, she told herself firmly, we’re not going
down that line of thinking right now.

Secondly, she hadn’t gotten laid since James Carbill threw her over
six months ago for some new interior designer he had fallen for. And to tell
the truth, she had not been laid decently for months before that.
James’s steel-blue eyes had started wandering elsewhere long before
that ugly day when he’d told her that she needed to move out of the
Beacon Hill apartment he had been keeping her in, and that both of her
positions — as his personal assistant, and as his sexual partner and dinner
party arm candy — were terminated effective immediately.

James had softened the blow a bit by pulling some strings to secure this
grant so she could finish her doctorate degree in psychology from
Boston’s Fauntel University, and that’s how she wound up
standing on top of a windy cliff, watching Sean’s long, shaggy blond
hair blow into his eyes, which were fixed vacantly on the horizon.

She reached up to her shoulder and twined the fingers of her right hand
with Sean’s, hoping to lower the odds that they’d both go off
the cliff. The smell of salt spray on stone mingled with alcohol fumes. She
reached for his flask with her left.

“Give me a hit of that,” she said, raising her voice over the
wind. “You can’t have all the fun yourself.”

He handed her the flask absent-mindedly, its cap dangling from a little
silver chain. She took a swig. Smoky, peaty whiskey seeped into her tongue
and the flesh of her throat, straight into her bloodstream. She would swear
it never even hit her stomach.

“All this,” Sean said, gesturing broadly with a wobbling sweep
of his arm. Penny braced her feet, but they did not topple over. “When
you write your… your… thing.”

“My thesis.”

“Your thee, your thing. On all this. You’ll make millions of
dollars. We’ll all make millions of dollars. Because everyone will
want it.”

Penny took another hit of the whiskey. It felt mellower this time, as if
she and the whiskey were getting acquainted. “No one ever made
millions of dollars on their psychology doctorate thesis,” she
said.

“Oh, but you will.” Sean turned around, his face close to hers,
and poked her hard in the chest with the point of his index finger.
“You will. I will. Everyone will. Because this,” he swept his
arm out again along the horizon, “this is the Giant’s Causeway.
You’ll write about why it makes people feel so good — you feel good,
right?”

Penny nodded skeptically. He didn’t wait for her response before
rambling on.

“Because it makes people feel so good that they will all want to live
here, and I’m selling my land to the American developer who will give
them all a place to live. And everyone else will too. Just as soon as you
are done.”

Penny smirked and shook her head. It’s true that her doctorate
proposal had talked about the intersection of landscape and psychology, and
the grant that James had helped her secure had sent her to this bleak,
forsaken, vertical drop-off to write about it. But in point of fact, she had
not yet started writing, and now that she was here, she could not for her
life figure out what to write about.

“Sean, you handsome devil,” she said. “It’s a pile
of rocks.” Basalt, she noted to herself, recalling one of the
guidebooks she’d read on the plane. Lava from a volcanic episode,
cooled slowly, formed hexagonal columns. Why do people find the myths more
interesting than the science?

 

 

About the Author

 Siondalin O’Craig writes romance with the slow burn of a peat fire on
an autumn night deep in the woodland hills. Sip a glass of Irish whiskey,
turn the page, and let the magic overtake you. Siondalin lives in the
mountains of New England where she walks under the trees celebrating the
wheel of the year, grows a luscious garden full of magical herbs, and plays
a wicked Irish fiddle. Follow her on Facebook and email her at
siondalinocraig@gmail.com to sign up for her newsletter.

Publisher on Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram: @changelingpress

 

 

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