Tag Archives: Paranormal

Darker Teaser

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Maw of Mayhem MC, Book 2

Paranormal, Motorcycle Club Romance

Date Published: March 15, 2024

So much for sanctuary. Kit Parson doesn’t feel any safer than she was
before she first stepped into the Maw of Mayhem, and things are going from
bad to worse. Something big is definitely going down in the paranormal
community… and inside Kit. Now that her inner beast has awoken, all
it wants is out. The only thing Kit wants is Grim, but he’s got issues
of his own.

Fingered for a crime he didn’t commit and injured by the
witch’s spell, his cat Darke has control of their form. He
doesn’t play well with others, and tensions with the crew are at an
all-time high.

With the witches’ elite assassins on their trail, can Darke and the
crew put aside their differences to keep Kit safe and get back to the MC?
And as the clock ticks toward the vote with Grim’s reputation in
shambles, will there be an MC to go back to?

Darker teaser

 

EXCERPT

Shades of the past tore through the consciousness Darke shared with his
man, threatening to swallow Grim whole. He fought against their poisoned
bite, but the witch’s spell had weakened the big cat’s
skin-brother and freed the memories from their fetters. They lashed at Grim
with inky black tentacles of torment. His agonized screams rose within the
crescendoing squall, raging through their split psyche. A growl welled in
Darke’s chest, ruff bristling at their assault.

Mine! — he snarled, lunging into the fray. Sharp claws and teeth rent
the shadowed memories of the bad time from his man, scattering them back
into the depths of their mind. Grim was his. Him. A self separate, yet one.
His skin-brother. Darke nuzzled him close, tongue rasping over Grim’s
flickering light.

heal

Kit… his man whimpered, curling into a ball. His light dimmed,
giving up control of their form to the big cat.

ours — Darke rumbled, shifting their body and sending Grim what
strength he could. Fur sprouted, limbs cracking and reforming. Two legs
became four, and a tawny gray mountain lion lay sprawled on the bed where
the others had lain his man to recover.

Within, his skin-brother’s light strengthened, its low glow holding
steady.

Darke ran a paw over his face, licking at his pad. He sneezed at the scent
of old blood, the room thick with the patina of its tang and the decaying
musk of the undead. A low growl rumbled in his chest, his pupils dilating to
take in the room’s blend of muted color.

Heavy furniture dominated the space, its angles stark amidst the gloom.
Tendrils of scent threaded through the room, age and linseed seeping from
the wood to twine with the rest of the civilized rot assaulting his nose. He
pushed off the bed, padding across the thick carpet. His shadow grayed the
fingers of scant moonlight streaming in from long, amber-tinted
windows.

Darke paused, his lip curling over his canines, disdainfully eyeing the
city spread out below him before turning his face to the bulbous moon.

Had Grim’s female changed and released her animal?

Clay’s cat had promised Darke a mate. Teased him with her scent,
captured within the weft of the afghan on Grim’s bed. The desperate
longing it evoked proved the connection. The tip of Darke’s tail
twitched. He’d trusted it would be so. Waited for so long. Too long.
Kit’s scent matched the afghan’s. That meant the beast within
her was his.

Darke chuffed his frustration. Sensing his mate without being able to claim
her was torture. He paced the breadth of the room, eyes narrowed at the
heavy oaken door leading out. Beyond it, faint voices pricked at his ears.
Part of his skin-brother’s pride was near. His crew. Darke growled at
the snippets of the MC’s inner cats’ near-unintelligible
murmuring punctuating the two-legged babble. That he could understand the
crew’s stupid yapping better than his own brethren’s yowls
irked.

A pang of loneliness shot through Darke’s chest. He missed Clay. When
his father’s inner lion had spoken, his deep rumble was clarion. The
lynxes out there? Yowls and hissing. Darke could pick out maybe one hard-won
word in six, and they couldn’t understand him at all. It had been the
same with his littermates, Grapple and Shiv, leaving Darke to rely on
instinct when forced to interact.

It got him into trouble. Lynxes were shady and the two-leggers lied. Said
things they didn’t mean, then hurt you. Clay had been different, but
he was dead while his murderer walked free.

Reaper.

Darke shivered, ears flicking back, remembering the bad time. The man who
called himself their uncle needed to die, and Grapple and Shiv with
him.

Darke’s temper spiked, his tail swishing. Keenly feeling the loss
locked within his mind again, in this stinking place of undead. His
skin-brother shared his sorrow at their father’s murder, but not
Darke’s isolation.

And now Grim had left him, too.

Darke shouldered through another door into a smaller room lined with tile.
It smelled faintly of excrement and strongly of fabricated pine, the water
in the bowl stale and chemical-laced. Darke shook droplets from his maw and
chuffed his distaste, returning to the window.

Soft footfalls approached from the beyond the oaken door.

Darke slunk into the deep shadow of an armoire as the heavy slab canted
open, then closed. Kit limped to the center of the room, favoring a leg. Her
arm was splinted, the opposite hand bandaged in gauze. A ruddy stain marred
its whiteness. She wrapped her damaged limbs around herself with a low sob,
the scent of fresh blood perfuming the air as she moved. Darke’s
nostrils flared at that thread of wrongness twining within the delicate
tendrils of citrus, cinnamon, and female musk.

His mate was presenting as wounded prey.

Darke bit back the growl building in his chest, fury pounding through his
temples. His claws extended and retracted from the carpet’s thick
pile. Healthy, she’d be a tempting prize for any predator.
Injured… He was going to kill —

No. Darke’s ears flattened against his skull. His man would think
before spilling blood.

But Grim thought too much.

Kit scanned the room, then dashed a hand across her face, stumbling to the
bed. Her feet froze at its foot, head snapping toward the bathroom, then
away. Another low sob eked from her throat, and Darke’s ruff stood on
end. He would destroy them. Destroy them all. Starting with those who had
failed to protect —

Hey! Boy Vengeance! You really just gonna let her think her think
he’s gone?

Darke jumped, fur bristling at the syrupy censure. He backed deeper into
the shadows, eyes wide and pulse pounding.

Aww. Here puss, puss, puss… I don’t bite

His lip curled over a canine, and a female’s mocking laughter flitted
through his mind as clearly as the gravelly chuckle of Clay’s beast
had. Darke’s heart leaped, his ears pricking forward, saliva pooling
in his maw.

He could understand her.

The beast inside Kit, his promised mate — when she spoke, her words were
clear, and she wanted to play.

 

About the Author

AK Nevermore enjoys operating heavy machinery, freebases coffee, and gives
up sarcasm for Lent every year. A Jane-of-all-trades, she’s a
certified chef, restores antiques, and dabbles in beekeeping when
she’s not reading voraciously or running down the dream in her beat-up
camo Chucks. Unable to ignore the voices in her head, and unwilling to
become medicated, she writes Science Fiction and Fantasy full time. AK pays
the bills writing a copious amount of copy, along with a column on SFF. She
belongs to the Authors Guild, is an RWA chapter board member, volunteers for
far too many committees, teaches creative writing, and on the rare occasion,
sleeps.

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

 

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Danje Blitz

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Horror, Psychological Thriller, Occult, Thriller, Paranormal, Fiction

Date Published: November 30, 2023

 

 

In a small Louisiana Bayou town during mid-September 1965, Albert Gilly
frantically prepares his family’s fishing store for an impending hurricane.
Amid the chaos, he notices Adonis, a drifter, lying motionless on the
street. With the wind raging and debris swirling violently around them,
Albert’s mind is consumed with thoughts of his family and their dependence
on him as the sole breadwinner. Knowing that they would be destitute without
him, he makes the painful decision to prioritize his own safety over
rescuing the stranger. As Albert stands in his shop’s doorway, the weight of
his guilt is almost suffocating, causing him to hesitate before locking
himself inside. He shouts one last time, urging the young man to seek
shelter in his late father’s houseboat at the end of the pier. Adonis is
startled awake by his words, his mind still hazy, as he struggles through
the strong winds until arriving at the floating sanctuary. However, his
relief is short-lived upon discovering the sinister secrets concealed within
the old wooden walls.

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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The Haunted Rosebuds Teaser

 

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Paranormal

Date Published: April 29, 2023

 

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Lana is a psychic ghost hunter working in The Circle of Roses shop. She
wants to help solve a case when a man’s wife leaves him because of
ghosts tormenting her in the attic, but she ends up with a haunting dilemma
of her own. Terra’s ghost is haunting one of her teens in her small
townhouse.

Sylvie and Dana are teenagers who just want to live but when Sylvie’s
room is repeatedly thrashed, psychic Rose is called to investigate. She
knows Terra from way back and thinks she wants more revenge, but why is the
other teen Dana not affected? Sylvie and Dana have their own group called
the Rosebuds. Started when they were kids, they wind up the only two in
it.

When old enough they will go into training to become real psychics. As for
this story it is their first everything, except their first time seeing a
ghost. How long can Terra’s ghost be kept a secret from Dana? And will
Rose be able to solve both cases at once?

EXCERPT

          Lana lay in her bed and heat from the vent blew in. Both girls were
getting up to get ready for school. It was the start of a new school year
for them. Dana Langly was still in Jr. High. Getting out of bed it seemed
nothing was wrong. Terra may be gone! Lana ran to Dana’s bedroom and
opened the door. Nothing strange there. She ran to Sylvie’s room and
there it was. Another huge mess. So bad it looked like a poltergeist did it.
And the strange thing about it was, everything was messed up the same way it
was the first time it was wrecked. Lana jumped back. Her heart skipped a
beat.

          The first thing she
thought was to keep the girls out. She decided to wait another night and see
what happened. Rose knew what was wrong and Lana needed help. She left the
room a mess to see what Terra might do.

          When the kids came
home it looked like they had a good day. They told their mom their new
classes were going well, and they even sat by their friends. Both girls got
to school by bus. Tired from the day they all went to bed as usual.

          Very quickly Lana
got them ready for school. She prepared their lunches so quickly it was a
mess. Both daughters looked at each other strangely. They wondered what she
was doing. They grabbed their backpacks and the school bus honked. Dana ran
for the door. Sylvie kissed her mother and said, “Don’t worry.
We’re both ok. We both slept like babies last night,” and she
had to run for the bus.

          In her nightgown
Lana ran upstairs to Sylvie’s room and opened the door. It was
horrible. The mattress was still off the bed, but the mirror she had taken
down was back and written on it in mud was the word REVENGE. Immediately she
pulled on the attic cord and looked. Dana’s mirror was up there but it
was up and leaning against the attic wall. She pulled the steps and went up.
Walking towards the mirror something pricked her foot. Getting down she
found three large knives. One with blood on it. It was a little from her
foot. Nothing bad. Her impression was Terra wanted to murder all three of
them.

About the Author

Martha is an author from Oregon. She has published 4 books in The Mystery
of Frankenstein’s Bride series.

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The Oni’s Shamisen Blitz

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The Toki-Girl and the Sparrow Boy Series, Book 9

 

Historical Fantasy, Japan, Paranormal

Date Published: April 2022

Publisher: American I Publishing

 

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Japan, 1877. Toki-Girl Azuki revels in her new-found freedom. But now what
will she do with it?

Using her patterns and the looms Western Dragon Prince Iyrtsh makes for
Eastern Dragon Princess Otohime’s ambitious project—resettling
refugees displaced by the failed Satsuma Rebellion—anyone can make her
fabulous fabric designs! But what of Azuki herself? Then the Oni, Kukanko,
who is sure she’s not a demon, calls on the Toki-Girl for help.

Can Azuki, Sparrow-Boy Shota, Dragon Princess Renko and Eagle-Boy Akira
find a way to help the Oni? What will a blind musician accomplish using
their results? How can they help Uncle Yuta and Aunt Noriko find places for
newly freed mill workers with no place left to go? Or help Lady Anko and
Lord Toshio defy convention and save their unlucky twins from potentially
lethal superstition? What’s going to happen to a very special horse?

Eastern Dragon King Ryuujin and Western Dragon Queen Rizantona contemplate
the future of their species and the planet, and infant Dragon Prince
Susu’s inability to keep a secret has catastrophic results.

Will Azuki and her friends find a way to help others while saving
themselves, their friends, and their future? Can Azuki find a new
path?

The Oni’s Shamisen is the ninth in the groundbreaking Toki-girl and
Sparrow-boy series where History and fantasy and magical realism collide in
this latest tale from the Meiji Era, a time and place where anything could
happen and probably did!

 

Get the latest novel in this exhilarating series today!

Other Books in the The Toki-Girl and the Sparrow-Boy Series:

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The Toki-Girl and the Sparrow-Boy, Book 1: Coming Home

The Toki-Girl and the Sparrow-Boy, Book 2: Chasing Dreams

The Toki-Girl and the Sparrow-Boy, Book 3: Together

The Toki Girl and the Sparrow-Boy, Book 4: Uncle Yuta has an
Adventure

The Toki-Girl and the Sparrow-Boy, Book 5: Noriko’s Journey

The Toki-Girl and the Sparrow-Boy, Book 6: The Dragon Sisters

The Toki-Girl and the Sparrow-Boy, Book 7: The Eagle and the Sparrow

The Toki-Girl and the Sparrow-Boy, Book 8: The Shadows of War

Amazon

The Oni's Shamisen paperback

 

Excerpt

CHAPTER ONE

Azuki, the girl who became a toki, laughed as she soared in the thermal. In
her form as a Japanese Crested Ibis, she rode the wind. Her powerful white
wings, touched with stunning peach accents, worked to carry her far above
the mountainous northern Kyushu landscape.

Laughing with her, Akira, the boy who became an eagle, matched her stroke
for stroke as they circled each other, dancing in the air. They were close
in size, for Steller’s Sea Eagles are proud of being the largest among
eagles—no matter what those Harpy Eagles might think—and the
Japanese Crested Ibis isn’t much smaller.

Dancing in the air wasn’t limited to birds, Akira thought as the wind
softened beneath his wings—only to those who could fly. The Western
Dragon Prince Irtysh and the Eastern Dragon Princess Otohime, though
divergent in form, had learned to dance together, and Otohime had first
learned to do it with her younger and smaller half-sister, their friend,
Renko.

But nobody did it like eagles!

“Let’s dive,” Akira cried to Azuki. She didn’t
answer, but slowed to nearly stall before tipping her long black beak
downward and tucking in her wings. Akira drove the air with his own muscular
wings to catch her, and they spiraled downwards, twisting closely around
each other, racing towards the land.

They learned this from the dragons, who rejoiced in flight as much as the
birds, and were smart enough and playful enough to take any airborne idea
and expand on it. They all learned from each other.

As they approached the treetops, Azuki called, “Crossover!” and
they changed their courses to hurtle past each other before starting the
upward curve of their next ascent. Careful to keep exact pace with each
other, they curved their angles inward so they would meet at the top of
their arc. Akira thought they might cross over again and descend in lazy
twining circles before landing.

Suddenly, right between them, a dragon appeared.

Akira and Azuki both dodged to avoid this obstacle, who was small for a
dragon, though large compared to them. He was bronze, brown and gold, and in
the classic European fashion, his hide was studded with jewels. When he was
a human, he looked Japanese.

“Nice flight, you two,” the dragon said.

“Susu-chan!” Azuki called. “What are you doing here?
Don’t pop in like that! It’s dangerous!”

“I wasn’t in your way!” Susu objected. Youngest of the
dual-natured dragons, Susu was Renko’s full brother. Otohime was his
much older half-sister, child of the Eastern Dragon King Ryuujin. Irtysh was
his much older half-brother, child of the Western Dragon Queen Rizantona.
Susu was a child prodigy who was afraid of nothing except his fierce and
royal parents, and sometimes his grown-up siblings, who could be quite
fierce themselves. Renko was young like him and would usually not only let
him get away with tricks but teach him new ones. She’d been a child
prodigy herself.

“That’s only because we’re good,” Akira said with a
mental laugh as the two big birds circled around the hovering dragon. They
all spoke in mental speech, convenient for times when their physical beings
or their circumstances didn’t accommodate physical, audible
speech.

“You did spoil our descent, though,” Azuki added.
“Isn’t it good manners for dragons to announce themselves to
avoid interrupting others?” Susu looked abashed.

“I should have,” Susu said. “I’m sorry. I forgot. I
guess I did come in right in the middle. Is it convenient?” That was a
popular dragon greeting. Dragons frequently spontaneously appeared in each
other’s presences without announcing themselves in advance, which few
of them could manage all the time.

Mental speech did not always work for any- and every-one or at different
distances. Dragons vanished promptly if they were told to come back later.
They enjoyed spontaneity and were sometimes impulsive. Susu, formally His
Royal Highness Prince Suoh-Sugaar, certainly was.

“No, but as long as you’re here,” Akira said with a grin
that forgave the dragon child too much and too often, “what can we do
for you?”

“Not for me, but for Brother.” In the Japanese fashion, Susu
usually referred to his relatives by relationship rather than name. He did
have other brothers–both his parents had other children–but when
he said “Brother,” as though it were a name, he invariably meant
the one he was closest to: Prince Irtysh.

“How can we serve His Royal Highness today?” Azuki asked
formally. She’d had just about enough of this childish nonsense. Susu
was old enough to use proper manners!

“Did you know Brother has children?” Susu swiveled to try to
follow the birds’ line of sight. Birds couldn’t hover like
dragons could. “Come land on me!”

Azuki and Akira glanced at each other, then swooped in to circle before
landing on Susu’s broad back.

“I didn’t,” Akira said as he banked,
“No.”

“I never thought about it,” Azuki admitted. “They
don’t live with him.”

“They’re kind of old,” Susu told them. “Grown-ups.
They all have their own caverns and their own mountains. All over the place.
Galina’s mountain is north of here, really close to Hokkaido!
She’s a princess, too. She’s older than me, but we like to swim
together. I think I’m her uncle.” Susu frowned at this. That
didn’t make sense to him emotionally, though if he worked it out,
intellectually, it did. His brother’s children….

“So Prince Irtysh has children?” Akira decided to move the
original conversation back on track. He positioned himself to land near
where Azuki would light down. While the prince was, by rank, His Royal
Highness, he preferred a lower level of formality from those among the
dual-natured and humans he seemed to consider part of his social circle, if
not his friends. Akira didn’t know if he would ever be able to truly
claim friendship with the suave and sophisticated dragon prince, though he
admired him enormously.

“Five!” Susu said. “He’s talking to them about
those machines he’s building for your refugees! He wants to know how
many you’ll need, so I need to get Tsuruko-san. Then she and
Kichiro-san can come back with us and we can all talk about going to the
Exhibition! It starts in just a few days!”

Susu was a jump ahead of everybody, as he often was, Azuki thought, though
he was frequently misdirected. Tsuruko-san, the Crane-Woman, was working
closely with Her Royal Highness, the Eastern Dragon Princess Otohime. Both
of them joined the fully human Lady Satsuki, her very pregnant daughter,
Anko-sama, and all the rest of them, in helping to resettle refugees
displaced by the Satsuma Rebellion. Azuki didn’t want to think about that.
The Rebellion was coming to its end, and its end would be, inevitably,
tragic.

“That’s where we’ll find out about the cotton spinning
machine.” Akira nodded. “I want to go, too.”

About the Author

Claire Youmans

Claire Youmans was captivated the first time she set foot in the Land of
the Rising Sun. After many years of travel to this magical place, the
retired lawyer now lives in Tokyo, exploring and writing fiction and poetry.
During the Meiji Era, Japan leapt from a decaying feudalism to a modern
first world power. How’d they do that? This history holds a key to
understanding Japanese culture and character. Like the ocean, Japan changes
only on the surface while the depths remain the same. Using folklore and
fantasy, Youmans tells this story in an accessible, fun, and exciting way
that reveals and explores the true nature of Japan, a culture that is
unique, quirkly and one she has ultimately come to love.

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The Mystery of Frankenstein’s Bride Virtual Book tour

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Paranormal, Horror

 

Date Published: December 20, 2020

When love takes a turn, what are you willing to do to keep it?

Terra’s love life is a monster so she sets out to see her old flame Nathaniel Johnston. But when she finds he is no longer living either, eternity is theirs. Bringing him back will get her a husband because of her passionate feelings for him.

Johnston is her new life, but when they are on their honeymoon in Germany things take a bad turn. The castle they stay in creates too much distance between the two.

Can she get closer to him before it’s too late?

 

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Excerpt

The Mystery Of Frankenstein’s
Bride
Frankenstein stomped through the water and quickly strangled the man watching as the lady gasped.
He left on his deadly rampage to terrorize the city! He crept towards the stone structure where he was
made and entered. The grounds keeper ran as Frankenstein made his way back to his dwelling place,
knocking down the lantern that was left behind. A wood chair caught on fire.
A mob with torches arrived. They outnumbered him by thirty-five so they weren’t afraid. The
Frankenstein death toll had been 5. The 6 foot tall monster headed toward the dungeon as the fire
burned everything it could. It soon burned the front door. Now no one could get in.
Dr. Frankenstein appeared. “Why have you done this?” shouted the mob.
“It was an experiment,” he replied nervous.
“Just tell us what to do,” came from the mob.
“Find him and lock him away,” suggested a mob member.
“That’s all we can do,” mob man said. “Is there another way in?”
“Through the back,” the mad scientist replied. They all ran that way but the smoke and fire warned
them not to enter. Even if it looked okay. They could see Frankenstein in a window three stories up.
“Fire bad,” they could hear the deep voice say. And he was gone. A moment later he broke through
a downstairs window and headed into the deep woods. The villagers filled their buckets with water and
struggled to put it out before it got to the woods.
The bride of Frankenstein sat on her throne listening to the radio. Her black lips unhappy from the
news. “Another body has been found in the wheat field. It looks like another victim of Dr.
Frankenstein’s experiment,” the radio announced. It looked like her fiance would not return soon.
But they were perfect for each other. They were undead, engaged, and hated fire. Only he was killing
nice, decent, innocent people.
She sat and thought about all the young men she loved in her short life. But there was one she loved
the most. A banker from Chicago had stolen her heart one summer. He was tall, dark, and handsome.
They dated, stayed together, and were in love. They weren’t married but were parted by death when
she fell ill with pneumonia at only thirty-four.
In the afterlife she missed him and watched lovingly over him. Suddenly she became angry with
Frankenstein. She picked up the table and threw it across the room with ease. It shattered into pieces
as she growled. How could he do this to her? She decided she would not marry him. She never
wanted to see him again.

About the Author

Martha Wickham

Martha has studied writing with Writer’s Digest and has an Associate’s degree in Social Services. She has also written poems and songs and even studied screen writing and horror. She still writes and likes getting writing prompts. Her favorite author is VC Andrews.

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