Blue eyes, dimples, and silky brown hair; Grant Luther has all of Alison’s weaknesses.
When he asks for one last chance to save their marriage, she agrees to relocate their family to isolated Strawberry, Kentucky in pursuit of his career dreams. Grant views Alison’s sensory issues as limitations and protects her from outside threats. When he finds his new job includes changing him into a shifter in a war against the soul-sucking Sluagh he vows to keep the changes a secret. What he doesn’t know is Alison has been hiding a magical secret of her own. One that makes her a target of the Sluagh.
Will Alison emerge from Grant’s shadow to protect her family? And can Grant learn that being different can be a strength not a weakness?
Strawberry Full Moon is coming 6/3/2020-6/5/2020!
“You look perfect. I mean perfectly healthy. I mean mostly uninjured,” she stammers. She places her tiny hand over her eyes.
Feeling braver than ever, I walk right up to her. I gently remove the hand from her face and hold it to my own. “See, I’m fine,” I whisper as I gently rub my thumb over her tiny knuckles.
Her eyes lift to mine and lock our gazes. I have always found the golden color of her eyes fascinating but never studied them up close. They are light brown with a golden star in the middle. I am literally star gazing as she takes in the injuries to my face. We stand there for about a minute, lost in time.
I wonder if she is thinking about when we first started dating, the hard times that followed, the present, or the future. I search her face for clues but don’t want to break the spell by opening my mouth. I decide to put said mouth to better use by lowering my head toward hers.
About the Author
Marilyn Barr currently resides in the wilds of Kentucky with her husband, son, and rescue cats. When engaging with the real world, she is collecting characters, empty coffee cups, and unused homeschool curricula.
She has a diverse background containing experiences as a child prodigy turned medical school reject, biodefense microbiologist, high school science teacher, homeschool mother of a savant, and advocate for the autistic community.
She would love to hear from readers via her website: www.marilynbarr.com.
Reina and Ricardo have a relationship that’s as close to perfect as one can get. Coming home after a romantic honeymoon, they’re ready to settle down and begin their life together.
But when Reina literally bumps into someone from her past, their future turns into a thing of uncertainty, and her life begins to unravel. Things are no longer as they seem when this dangerous stranger embeds himself into their lives.
Will this vampire and his bride survive a wizard bound and determined to recreate his obedient mate from a past life? Or will they show him that sometimes the past is best left buried?
***Part of the Underlayes series, but can be read as a standalone.***
I don’t know why so many people always wish they had a do over in life. I mean, I guess I get it in a way. And probably more-so would if what happened to me hadn’t happened. But it did.
I have no memory of the life I led before being turned. Ricardo, my Fated One, and I had been together for only a year, but it felt like I knew him for much longer than that. He said that memory loss was something that sometimes happened to the newly turned. I took his word for it, since that’s not exactly something you can just look up on Google without finding a bunch of nonsense. And we stayed in a pretty tight-lipped community, amongst others like us. But no one delved into anyone else’s business. There were some we were friendly with, but not really friends. He said the night he turned me I had been on the brink of death, that he had found me in an alley left for dead. That he knew me before in passing, and couldn’t just let me die. We’ve been together ever since.
I woke up after having yet another dream that felt like much more than just that, with my entire body feeling as if I had just done an entire triatholon the night before. I sat up and put my head in my hands, my head feeling like it was in a vice grip from hell. It had been happening for the past few weeks, and had been getting worse instead of better.
I climbed out of bed, careful to not wake Ricardo. It was early still, but I had no intentions of going back to sleep, no way was I risking having another one of those dreams. They hurt too much to wake up from. They weren’t nightmares, far from it, but when I woke up they were fragments I couldn’t manage to piece together. But for some reason I almost always found myself if not in pain, then in tears when I woke up from them. And not just that, there was some form of power inside of me trying to break free, but I had no idea what it was or how to access it, yet.
Stepping into the bathroom I didn’t bother with turning on the light, just slipped my black lace chemise over my head and stepped into our large, walk-in shower, and turned the water as hot as I could bare it. As I stood there directly under the spray flashes of a man kept appearing behind my eyelids. I could barely make out his features, but for whatever reason not being able to recognize him made me more than just sad, but hollow inside like something was missing.
“Rena, why are you up so early love? The sun has just barely set.” As quiet as I had been getting out of the bed I must have still woken Ricardo. I was so lost in thought that I hadn’t even heard him open the shower door. He stood directly behind me and pulled my body flush against his own, swept my hair to the side and gently grazed his fangs along the crook of my neck before letting them sink into my skin.
Ricardo was not a male of many words, but what he lacked in syllables he made up for in sensation. His cold body grew warmer as he fed from me, I could feel his shaft growing and hardening against the crease of my ass. The water cascaded down both of our bodies as he licked the bite marks closed, and his large hands began to work their magic. With one hand, he began kneading my breast, squeezing right to the borderline between pleasure and pain as his other slid down to my hips then around my waist until it found the shaved, heated entrance that was waiting for him. He slipped his fingers, not inside of me, but only slid them along my tight, wet folds, then to tweak and tug at my clitoris, the sensation of that alone enough to put me on the verge of climax.
I whimpered as he removed his hand, but he was by no means done with me yet. Ricardo bent me slightly, splaying his pale ivory hand over my own, much smaller mocha one, interlacing our fingers along the tiles of the shower as I grabbed onto it for purchase. He then entered me in one swift, hard stroke. I screamed out as the feel of his long, wide shaft filled me so completely that if he wasn’t an expert at using it, it would have hurt, instead it felt so good that my juices were already flowing around him. I came again as he found that perfect rhythm, his heavy length sliding up against my walls, the sensation making me so dizzy I would have lost my grip on the wall had he not still had hold of my hand. The water from the showerhead only added to the sensations.
Just as I felt myself coming to a full-on climax, the lightning bolt shaped mark on my outer thigh began to burn. The pain of it made me bend over further, making him not only go deeper, but also made me tighten even further around him. I became a mixture of both pleasure and true pain all at once, I could barely recognize which of the two my moans reflected. Ricardo slid out of me then, and before I had a chance to feel the emptiness of his shaft no longer there, he had me turned around, lifted up with a crushing grip on my hips, and was impaling me once again. As though he felt a sense of urgency, he pistoned in and out of me even harder and faster than before, which took my mind away from the flaring pain in my thigh.
As Ricardo gave me another stroke so deep inside of me I felt his sac rubbing against my entrance I screamed out with one last climax as he jettisoned inside, the warm trickling feel of it making me come that much harder. But when I closed my eyes, I was looking into the metallic silver irises that haunted my dreams, and they looked angry as hell. I could almost hear a faint, foreign, yet familiar voice in the back of my mind saying, I will find you.
When I opened my eyes, Ricardo was staring straight into mine, but it felt like he was seeing right through me to somewhere else, especially when he said, “She’s mine.”
Before I could ask him anything or think any further, he claimed my lips in a claiming, almost punishing kiss. Then I felt a tiny pinprick on the side of my hip and promptly blacked out.
Halfway across the world from where Ricardo and Rena were, a warlock wearing only a pair of black shorts, knelt down on the ground in the rain in the dark of night in a cemetery, the droplets shimmered down his muscled, ebony chest and back. He summoned the lightning to the palms of his outstretched hands, letting it empower him further, as he called out to his ancestors. “Ancestors, my foremothers, and forefathers, I come to you tonight, the anniversary of the night you gifted me with one of my greatest gifts, to ask your help in finding her. Help me bring her back to where she belongs, at my side.”
The storm became malevolent then, lightning struck around Jonathan left and right, which both fueled and empowered him. He threw his head back as he soaked it all in. As he closed his eyes, his haunches rose when he finally saw her, with the vampire that had somehow ensnared his powerful, beautiful mate. He tried yet again to communicate with her through their mark, but something was blocking him still, but he felt it slipping, and that little slip was all he needed to learn her location.
Reaching into his back pocket, Jonathan pulled out his phone and dialed his brother. Without bothering with any pleasantries, all he said was, “It’s time to hunt us down a vampire, and bring home my mate.”
About the Author
When you become a Mom, you begin to put yourself last, and your combat boots begin to collect dust. Going to your child’s PTA meetings in full Gothic, especially industrial, regalia is pretty much frowned upon. Especially by your own children, and your teens would die of a heart attack. But, one should not have to completely stop being themselves, uniqueness is greatness. So all of that darkness is put into words in her books, and designs in her jewelry sold in her Etsy shop, GothicMoms DarkCharms.
A single mother of five beautiful children, but by far more than just that. T. A. Moorman is an artist, a violinist, a lab assistant, a seamstress, a crafter, a writer, a blogger, a reviewer, a dark confidant and a darkly dangerous, fiercely protective friend.
Prequel novella to The Immortal World series (release #5.5)
Date Published: 3/20/20
Celeste was never meant to be a vampire. She never wanted to die, or be undead, or drink blood. And the vampire who turned her, Angela Estrada, certainly didn’t want her either. Celeste has never been a fan of Angela’s cynical overly religious ways and she’s spent two whole centuries asking the same question: Why her?
Tanner is in a bind. Even as Second in Command to the Fraccas clan, he’s never been completely on board with the leader’s view of the world and their place in it. Now there’s a strong likelihood that Ignatius is looking for a way to replace Tanner. Permanently.
Sworn Enemies. Until . . .
Eyes meet across a crowded ballroom. The world stops. And then starts spinning again…in the opposite direction. Moving them toward each other when everything about who—and whose— they are is designed to keep them apart.
When your world won’t let you have the one thing you desire most, what other choice is there than to burn it down and build a new one?
Celeste didn’t know what she’d been expecting. Clearly, she hadn’t been thinking. Just reacting. Moving on instinct. She’d never had an instinct so strong as the one that had pulled her across the room to that man.
She hadn’t bothered to ask herself what she would do once she stood in front of him.
Seeing the leggy brunette in a skin tight red dress had been a serious wake up call.
Celeste slipped out the back door and into the cool night air with a sigh. Autumn was nearing its second half, where the trees were barren and the cold mornings were slow to relinquish their hold, returning with a vengeance as soon as the sun turned its back again.
Celeste didn’t feel the chill. No gooseflesh rose on her arms, she didn’t shiver or pace about to keep warm. Instead, she took a deep breath of fallen leaves and impending dew and leaned her back against the wall of the building.
It was quiet outside. Quiet and deserted. Above, music and conversation escaped the hall through the open balcony doors. Couples who thought no one could hear them rendezvoused on those balconies. Their whispers floated down almost incoherent to where Celeste stood. She closed her eyes and listened without really paying attention.
When she opened her eyes again, she already knew she wasn’t alone. The breeze moved past another before reaching her.
He stood only a few feet from her. Silent and imposing as a gravestone. His eyes rested on her with a curious sort of ease, as if he was able to relax for the first time in ages.
Celeste didn’t move from where she leaned against the building. She stared back at him and waited. He hadn’t thought it through either. The “what came next” part. The side of her mouth lifted. What a pair they were.
He took in her smile, eyes lingering on her mouth, flicking back to her eyes, then spanning the curve of her cheeks and jaw.
Celeste had never felt so seen in all of her life . . . or death, for that matter. He took in every aspect of her and kept on looking. She swallowed back the jumble of words that rose in her throat. Nothing she attempted to say would make any sense. Jibberish, all of it. And the first person who spoke might break the moment. Dispel the magic.
And it was magic.
Celeste stared back at him just as intently. Admired the breadth of his shoulders and the straight line of his nose. The unforgiving slant of his jaw and the steady warmth of his light eyes. What color were they? Impossible to tell in the starlight.
He opened his mouth, but only a small sigh of air escaped before Celeste moved forward, cutting him off with a shake of her head. She stopped barely a foot from him. The space between them wavered, pulled like a magnet to its mate.
Celeste took a deep breath. Cotton and pine and bourbon whiskey. Clean and warm and welcoming. She closed her eyes with a smile, opening them again when his hand touched her hair, smoothing over her curls so lightly, it was as if a butterfly had landed against them.
They were closer somehow.
Time and space vanished until only their senses ruled them.
His hand curved around the back of her neck, tangling in her hair. Celeste’s fingers found their way into his coat, curling around the lapels.
Nothing in her life had made sense for so long. Nothing had fit. Nothing felt right. There was always a “but.”
Until him. Until this. Until . . .
About the Author
SHANNON A. HINER lives in far Northern California with her feline roommate, Pangur Ban. She attended and graduated from Butte College in Oroville, CA. Having believed in faeries, vampires & all sorts of immortal creatures her entire life, it came as no surprise to her family and friends when she started writing down her stories in a grossly exaggerated fashion.
After finishing her first book in 2009, Submerged In Darkness, she realized she had written not the first book of many, but the last in an epic series. Since that time, she has been laboring to write & publish all prior books.
She wishes you would follow her on Twitter, Facebook & Instagram where you can enjoy quotes from works in progress, grammar puns, music that inspires and irregular updates on future works. @ShannonAHiner
From the New York Times bestselling author known for her “zany humor and spicy romance” (Publishers Weekly) comes an action-packed paranormal about a dragon hunter and the dangerous bad boy who steals her heart.
Dragon Hunter Wanted:
Sword supplied. No experience necessary.
One moment, I was a normal (if somewhat germaphobic) math teacher getting ready for summer vacation. Then my sister died in a pile of black ash, leaving me with a sword… and her destiny as dragon hunter. It turns out there’s a whole other world out there filled with demons, dragons, and spirits. Now my job is to protect mortals – and I haven’t got a clue what I’m doing.
Then there’s tattooed hotness Ian Iskander. Part dragon hunter and part demon, Ian’s got some seriously creepy business associates and keeps trying to steal my sword. So why do we keep getting lost in hungry, crazy-hot kisses? Ian is the only person who can help me figure out who – and what – I am. But trusting a half-demon is dangerous… because when you play with dragon fire, someone always gets burned.
Description Courtesy of Amazon
I was given a copy of this book by Netgalley for an honest review.
Memoirs Of A Dragon Hunter is a great read. The storyline and world building is well-developed. The book is a hilarious, action packed read with likeable characters. Be ready for some laugh out loud moments. Dragon hunters are part Demon and Dragon and prevent Demons from causing havoc in the mortal world. Veronica’s sister calls her to meet up at a location, and when she gets there her sister tells her the truth. Before Veronica can process this information, her sister is carried off by a demon. I truly enjoyed this book and give Memoirs Of A Dragon Hunter 5/5 stars.
Bestselling Author Bernadette Marie is known for building families readers want to be part of. Her series The Keller Family has graced bestseller charts since its release in 2011. Since then she has authored and published over thirty-five books. The married mother of five sons promises romances with a Happily Ever After always…and says she can write it because she lives it. When not immersed in the writing/publishing world, Bernadette Marie and her husband are shuffling their five hockey playing boys around town to practices and games as well as running their family business. She is a lover of a good stout craft beer and might be slightly addicted to chocolate.
As far back as Grace Carter could remember, she’d been able to communicate with the deceased. Of course, working in her family’s mortuary put her in constant contact with those who had crossed over, if she didn’t take steps to block them out, which she preferred to do. However, some spirits are stronger than others…
Nora Campbell had nearly been ready to die, but she still had some unfinished business. From the other side, she found the woman she wanted her grandson to fall in love with, and she put her matchmaking plan in motion. Nora was insistent that Grace get a message to her grandson, TV reporter Matthew Campbell, and together they could pass on the last goodbyes of those who had passed.
Only now Grace must convince Matthew she is in touch with his grandmother and not some crazy woman who spends all her time with the deceased.