Saturday, April 25, 2015

The Gifted and the Damned tour, excerpt & Giveaway






The Gifted and The Damned
(The Vampire Wars Series, Book #1)
by Dana Michelle Burnett

Blurb:


Seduction was her gift...He was her weakness...In the small town of Corydon Indiana, witches, seers, and shape shifters live hidden from the everyday world in plain sight. They live under the constant memory of the trials of Salem and live by a code of secrecy. 

Ruby Malone, the only siren ever born to her family of witches, held the hearts of many men in the palm of her hand, making her the talk of the supernatural community, but there was only one man that she wanted. Making seer Archer Wallace hers was the only thing Ruby cared about until a war between the gifted and the vampires turned her world upside down.
Suddenly, the world that Ruby knows is gone. Archer is off fighting in the war and Poe Corvus, a rebellious shape shifter with a past, tempts her to be the siren she was born to be.




Available for purchase at 




Excerpt

Ruby looked up at me, her green eyes glittering in the near darkness. My gaze fell on her red trembling lips.

Before I could stop myself, I was kissing her, forcing my tongue between her teeth. At first, she fought me, but then I felt her mold herself to me and press herself against my groin.

There was no waiting. I pulled at her clothes, almost tearing them off her. Her creamy flesh beckoned me, smelling of earth and sin. I tore away my own clothes so that I could hold her warm body against my naked skin.

She reached up and took my face in her hands, “Look at me.”

I looked down into her green eyes, feeling my very soul pull towards her. “What?”

Ruby brushed her hand over my cheek, “I do love you. I love you so much that it scares me sometimes.”

I was kissing her then, trailing my lips along her jawline and down to her neck. I could hear her unsteady and ragged breaths as I licked at her collarbone, but my own breath was coming just as fast.

I eased her down onto the floor and stretched out beside her. My lips found her breast, she cried out as they closed around her nipple. I brought my hand up to knead the other breast, pinching that nipple between my first finger and thumb. Ruby arched her back and twisted her fingers in my hair as my tongue circled her nipple before taking it between my teeth in a gentle nibble.

I pulled her closer, sliding my hand under her so that I could clutch her buttock. I ran one finger along her cleft, teasing her nether opening.

She drew in a sharp breath and bucked her hips upwards as if trying to get closer to me. I ached with my need to impale her, to fill her completely.

I groaned, low and animalistic. I shifted so that I could move further down, leaning over her and brushing her hair off her neck and shoulders.

“Can I really trust you?” I asked as I teased her skin with a feather touch.

“Yes,” she gasped. “Yes.”

I brought my lips back down to her lips and then trailed along her throat, between her breasts, and stopped just below her stomach. I positioned myself between her legs, eased her thighs apart, and then lowered my mouth to her wet slit.

Ruby gasped as I buried myself there, lapping at her inner folds. She bucked and cried out as I held her down and worked her over. She was still twitching when I moved back up her body, kissing her hot flesh, as I took her.

She clutched at my shoulders, pulling me closer. I felt her come apart again and again until I could not hold back anymore. I swore as a shudder overtook me.
We remained on the floor, Ruby’s head against my chest. My fingers tracing the ridges of her spine as I listened to our hearts beat in time.


About The Author

Dana Michelle Burnett spent most of her life writing short stories and sharing them with family and friends. Over the years, her work was published in numerous commercial and literary magazines including Just Labs, Mindprints: A Literary Journal, Foliate Oak, and many more. Her short story John Lennon and the Chicken Holocaust was include in The Best of Foliate Oak 2006.  

Dana Michelle's Spiritus Series introduced the idea of a ghostly romance and became a Kindle bestselling series. Her Gypsy Fairy Tale Series combined the magic of the Tuatha De Danann and the Irish Travellers and the first book in the series, Once, was included in the Faery Realms Multi-Author Box Set. With this new series, Dana Michelle dives into the trials and tribulations surrounded the paranormal gifted during a war with vampires.

She's an avid reader of anything dark and romantic. Dana Michelle lives in Southern Indiana with her dancing diva daughter and an assortment of pets.
Dana Michelle loves connecting with her readers. 

You can find Dana at 

               


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Friday, April 24, 2015

Ashes Tour, Excerpt & Giveaway!

Ashes
The Divided Kingdom
Book One
Sophie H. Morgan

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Publisher: Samhain Publishing, Ltd

Date of Publication: 21 April 2015

ISBN: 9781619225756
ASIN: B00U3M5Z96

Number of pages: 318
Word Count: approx. 99540

Cover Artist: Kanaxa

Book Description:

Secrets can burn.

Reared from birth to rule the Phoenix territory, Ana fled her future and her past when her parents were murdered. Now she secretly leads a rebellion to stop the human ruler, Edward, from experimenting on supernaturals.

When she finds herself cornered by an assassin, she knows just what to do: Roast him and toast him. Then recognition sends blue-tipped flames licking through her veins. It’s Cade, the royal bodyguard who once rejected her youthful confession of love.

When Cade regains consciousness from the force of Ana’s punch, he’s still reeling from shock—and fury. He’d loved the princess, and for ten years he thought her dead. Though his inner jackal growls with desire for her, she is the key to completing his mission for Edward—hunt down the rebel known as Liberty.

Ana can’t believe Cade doesn’t know the truth about Edward. If she can convince him of it, his blade could turn the tide of the rebellion. But first they must get beyond their past, or the whole kingdom could go up in smoke.

Product Warnings

Contains incendiary sex between a phoenix princess with a secret identity, and a jackal shifter who can take a lot of heat. Boys from the “hood”, a king jacked up on enhanced DNA, and killer heels. Anybody got a match?


Available at   Samhain     Amazon   Amazon UK

Excerpt

A smile played over his lips, a knowing one. “You were mine, once.”

When his thumb brushed her cheekbone, dipping down to rub her bottom lip, it was all she could do not to purr. For whatever reasons, this man could get beneath her barriers. He could make her lose control.

But he made her remember the past, something that threatened the foundation of the life she’d built for herself.

The door swinging into darkness. Cold, oozing puddles that cling stickily to bare feet. A young voice, wavering as she called out for her parents. Her locket a dull gold, mottled with red where it lay.

With effort, Ana jerked her chin away from his touch. “Get your hands off me, Cade.” With a thin smile, she added, “Only the vampire has those rights.”

That flash of anger. For some reason, the man in front still viewed her as partly his—the jackal, maybe, claiming her. Except jackals were solitary animals.

A growl rumbled through his chest. Keeping eye contact, he stood. When he leaned forward, she flinched, unable to help herself. Whether she was afraid of being touched or tortured, she didn’t know.

His arms flexed with muscle as he worked at something about her head. Something clunked, and the chains fell away from her with a heavy jangle. They lay on the bedspread, innocent and coiled like a false snake.

Grasping she was free, Ana slid from the bed. “Son of a bitch,” she spat, putting out a hand to help steady her. “Iron?”

She lunged at him, confused when her body refused to cooperate. Her biker boots hit the floor as she landed, tottering, two feet away from her intended target.

Focusing inward, she registered how cold her embers were. They barely glittered, a few halfhearted sparks at her prompting. A breath hissed from her.

Phoenixes radiated at around one hundred and twenty degrees; she’d wager she was operating on about human temperature. The lack of heat in the room and lack of food and water equaled her core running on empty. Even as she thought it, the sparks began to disintegrate, sucking inward to preserve the embers at her core.

Determined, she fought through the weakness, charging Cade.

He allowed himself to be thrust backward. “You’re too cold,” he commented. “Hungry. You can’t hurt me.”

“You wanna bet?”

Her knee jerked upward, narrowly blocked by Cade’s hand.

“Don’t even try it.” He pushed her away, making her stagger from weak knees. “You’ll be on your back quicker than an eager whore. Then again,” he continued, the jackal’s obvious pleasure at the verbal sparring spinning through his wicked smile, “maybe you’d enjoy that.”

With a vengeful shriek, Ana went for him. She jabbed with her fists, using her elbows when that didn’t work. He avoided all her blows, laughing with a gut-deep amusement.

When she used her scissor-kick, she saw her mistake too late as he caught her legs and flipped her to the dirty gray carpet. He was on top of her before she could curse, lazy amusement swirling like phoenix smoke.

His arms caged her as an old dimple flashed. “What did I say?”

His weight suddenly pressed down on her abdomen slashes. A wince tugged at her face before she could stop it, a hiss pouring from between her teeth.

His face changed immediately. “Fires above, Alana, you should have said something.”

“I thought you’d hurt me if it was necessary.” She shoved him off her. He let her, a hunter tracking her as she stumbled away. She dropped into the chair he’d claimed earlier, unwilling to admit her jelly limbs. “You’re all mouth.”

A slow smile spread over his face while his eyes altered to a dark velvet. Damn. She’d always been a sucker for the shadow-drenched eyes.

He stalked nearer, the jackal’s satisfied rumble curling out of his mouth as strong hands came down over hers on the chair’s arms.

She couldn’t dislodge him. Curses spilled from her as panic, not for her life but for something more prized, surged up her throat. “Don’t you come near me, Cade Lorin.”

“All mouth?” he repeated, his voice that dark drawl he’d once whispered her name with. “I’ll show you all mouth.”




About the Author:

Sophie H. Morgan is a paranormal romance author with a love for hot guys, sassy heroines and HEAs that seem impossible. Currently residing in England, Sophie divides her time between her two crazy spaniels and plotting how best to drive her characters into each other’s arms. Ashes is her first book.

@SophieHMorgan








The Holy Dark Tour, Excerpt & Giveaway!

The Holy Dark
The Black Parade Series
Book 3
Kyoko M

Genre: Urban Fantasy/Paranormal Romance

Date of Publication: April 24, 2015

ISBN 10: 1511543736
ISBN 13: 978-1511543736
ASIN: B00VULGGBK

Number of pages: 346 (eBook)
460 (paperback)

Word Count: 147,000

Cover Artist: Gunjan Kumar
and Christopher Cold

Book Description:

Sarcastic demon-slayer extraordinaire Jordan Amador has been locked in a year-long struggle to hunt down the thirty silver coins paid to Judas Iscariot. The mere touch of these coins is enough to kill any angel.

Jordan's demonic opposition grows more desperate with each coin found, so they call on the ultimate reinforcement: Moloch, the Archdemon of War. Moloch puts out a contract on Jordan as well as her estranged husband, the Archangel Michael. Now Jordan and Michael will have to find a way to work together to survive against impossible odds and stop Moloch's plan, or else he’ll wage a war that will wipe out the human race.

Available at Amazon


Excerpt

Chattanooga had been a nice place to live for the past ten months, a fact proven by my utter disapproval of the hotel we checked in the following night we left. The safe house was in Montpelier, Vermont and by car it was an eighteen-hour drive. However, the two of us were exhausted from the recent fights we’d had and needed some sleep so we stopped in Newburgh, Connecticut. We’d camp out here for the night and then leave first thing in the morning.
Myra worked at an office supplies store back in Tennessee, which paid alright, but neither of us were exactly swimming in cash. The hotel we chose was not of the highest caliber. The only benefits it boasted were cable television and air conditioning. I missed my thin pillows and slightly lumpy mattress back home.  
We were behind schedule, but only slightly. Myra went to buy some dinner while I opted for a long, hot shower. It wasn’t a nice place to stay, but it had one admittedly awesome amenity—a handheld sprayer with plenty of settings. I stayed in until my fingertips were pruny, mulling over recent events and hoping that a clear solution would arise. No such luck. We were still on defense. I didn’t like it, not one bit. The weight hanging off my soul was starting to make my knees buckle. I had to fix this. I had to save the angels. I owed them. They had shed blood for me more than once. I wasn’t going to disappoint them, not again. Never again.
I finished rinsing out my hair and groped for the towel with my eyes closed to avoid getting any residual shampoo in them. Weirdly, my fingers hit nothing but the moist air near the rack. Frowning, I reached out farther. It wasn’t there. Had it fallen onto the floor?
“Lose something?”
I froze. A deep, mocking, dry-as-sandpaper voice. No. Please, God, let it just be my imagination.
I pried my eyes open and ducked my head around the shower curtain. There, in front of the sink, stood a tall, pale-skinned man with shoulder-length hair as black as soot and a smile as sinister as the devil himself. His eyes were the lightest hue of blue that existed and the pupils were thin and diamond-like rather than round. His features were vaguely European—small forehead, narrow nose, thin but sensual lips, arched eyebrows—but I knew he didn’t have an accent.
He clutched my towel in his long-fingered hand, the other tucked in the pocket of his easily seven-hundred-dollar black suit pants. I recognized his favorite dark color scheme—a charcoal grey button up shirt, black silk tie, and Gucci dress shoes.
“Looking good, my pet.”
The archdemon Belial was standing in my bathroom.
Shit.

  

About the Author:

Kyoko M is an author, a fangirl, and an avid book reader. Her debut novel, The Black Parade, has been on Amazon's Bestseller List at #5 in the Occult Horror category. She has a Bachelor of Arts in English Lit degree from the University of Georgia, which gave her every valid excuse to devour book after book with a concentration in Greek mythology and Christian mythology. When not working feverishly on a manuscript (or two), she can be found buried under her Dashboard on Tumblr, or chatting with fellow nerds on Twitter, or curled up with a good Harry Dresden novel on a warm central Florida night. Like any author, she wants nothing more than to contribute something great to the best profession in the world, no matter how small.






Newsletter: http://goo.gl/Wu2WIM





Thursday, April 23, 2015

Chaos Broken Tour & Excerpt!

Chaos Broken
Chronicles of Applecross
Book 3
Rebekah Turner

Genre: Fantasy

Publisher: Escape Publishing
Date of Publication: 22 April 2015

ISBN: 9780857992413
ASIN: B00TQIML3G

Number of pages: 225
Word Count: 80,000

Book Description:

The final installment of the Chronicles of Applecross trilogy finds Lora left in charge – and quickly losing control.

Lora Blackgoat is in charge. But after losing a lucrative contract, it looks like she’s also running her beloved benefactor's mercenary company into the ground while he's away on holidays. Her problems double when she discovers Roman, exiled nephilim warrior and current confusing love interest, is brokering a dangerous peace agreement.

When a new enemy emerges from across the ocean, threatening to tear the city apart, Lora finds herself taking on new and surprising allies, finally acknowledging the prophecy that haunts her and using it to her advantage.

Available at    Amazon     iTunes   ARe   Google Play

  

Excerpt 

Chapter 1:

Headmistress Poulter hadn’t changed. She scared the crap out of me when I was ten and she scared the crap out of me now, even though I was a mature, genuine grown up and sitting in Blackgoat Watch’s big boss chair. Poulter’s body was all sharp angles under a shapeless dress, her iron-grey hair scraped into a tight bun. I was trying to pay attention, I was, but Poulter had been talking for a good ten minutes about her missing cat, Blinky, and I was finding it hard to focus.
Not for the first time I mentally cursed Gideon, my benefactor and boss of Blackgoat Watch, for ducking out of the city with my adoptive mother, Orella. They’d left Harken a month ago on a holiday to the sunny continent of Eral and Gideon had left me in charge of Blackgoat’s stable of Runners for hire. This meant I had to meet clients and smile and be nice. Which was hard. Especially when Poulter kept referring to Blinky as her missing pussy. Harder still was not fidgeting when Poulter fixed me with that look, the one that suggested she could see every sin I’d ever committed. And if I was being honest, there’d been a few since I’d last seen her at the age of 14, when I’d decided my academic career was over and my Runner career was about to start.
Reuben Crowhurst, a fellow Runner, sat beside Poulter wearing a suitably concerned expression that I suspected he’d been practising. In fact, his support for me in my temporary role as boss had been so efficient, I was suspicious that he was going to hit me up for a raise while Gideon was out of the country. He was also a griorwolf, not that he readily advertised the fact he could go all beast-monster if he lost control of himself.
‘Of course we understand how difficult this is,’ Crowhurst was saying. ‘Not only was he your pet, but the school mascot.’ He smiled at Poulter, giving her the full, charming Reuben Crowhurst treatment. I had to admit, he looked pretty smart today. His blond hair was brushed neatly, beard freshly trimmed, and he wore crisp charcoal pants and a snappy, velvet-trimmed vest. A ruby earring winked from one ear and he smelled of a very manly cologne.
One corner of my mouth curled up. If Crowhurst thought he could hit me up for a raise while Gideon was away, he was going to get an education. I tried to focus on the conversation, mentally calculating how much I could bill for searching for a cat. Unfortunately, it wasn’t going to be enough to see us out of the financial hole Blackgoat had recently fallen into, which wasn’t really my fault.
‘Lora Blackgoat. Are you paying attention?’ Poulter’s voice was a cane-crack across my thoughts and I gave a guilty jump.
‘Ah…yes. Pussy. I mean, cat. Missing. Blinky.’ I glanced down at my notes, which consisted of curly doodles and a couple of hex symbols. ‘That about sums it up, right?’
‘I can tell she’s not listening to a word I’ve said.’ Poulter shifted her glare to Crowhurst.
‘She always used to get that look, like nothing else mattered but her.’
‘I’m listening, I’m listening,’ I protested. ‘I’ll send someone over first thing tomorrow to start asking around. See if the neighbours have seen him.’
Poulter’s eyebrows pinched. ‘I’d rather you saw to this personally, Lora.’
Crowhurst gave me a significant look, which I knew meant I was supposed to agree with the client.
‘Of course,’ I said through clenched teeth. ‘I’ll look after this personally, Lady Poulter. First thing tomorrow.’
‘You couldn’t start today?’
‘Unfortunately, I’ve got another appointment this afternoon. But I can assure you, I’ll be there tomorrow, very first thing.’ I made a show of checking my notes. ‘Can you tell me if there’s anyone who’d want to do your pussy mischief?’ I kept my face straight, but a flush crept up Crowhurst’s neck. He shot me a warning look.
Poulter sniffed. ‘There have been a few troublesome students of late. One in particular. His name was Kalin and he led a rotten pack of them. I expelled him last term for stabbing a teacher with a pencil.’
‘What’s Kalin’s family name?’ I asked.
‘He had none. He was from the orphanage.’
‘Was?’
‘I heard he disappeared last month. I don’t know the particulars.’
‘Rest assured, we’ll have answers for you soon enough about Blinky.’ Crowhurst stood, letting me know this would probably be a good place to end the interview. I stood as well, grateful that Crowhurst was around. If I had to be honest, he’d really stepped up and helped smooth over my rough edges when talking to clients. Maybe the bastard did deserve a raise.
‘Thank you for calling Blackgoat Watch, Lady Poulter,’ I said.
Poulter’s eyes narrowed. ‘Did Gideon really leave you in charge of this organisation?’
My chest burned and I realised I was holding my breath, trying to dazzle her with my dimpled smile. But Poulter didn’t look particularly charmed by it, so I exhaled and rubbed my cheeks with a scowl. ‘Yes. I was left in charge. Why?’
Poulter glanced at Crowhurst. ‘You are helping her, aren’t you?’
Crowhurst gave Poulter a noncommittal shrug, then manoeuvred her gracefully out of the office, filling the air with easy small talk. I slumped back into Gideon’s chair, the leather squeaking. Opening the top drawer, I pulled out Gideon’s vodka stash and picked a glass that wasn’t too dirty. I poured myself half a shot. I was still staring at it when Crowhurst walked back in and frowned at the glass. I hesitated briefly before topping it up.
‘That doesn’t look like a great idea,’ Crowhurst said.
My eyes rose to his meet his steady gaze. ‘Were we in the same meeting? Come on. A missing cat?’
Crowhurst sat with a sigh. ‘Business is slow. We have to take any job we can for now.’
‘Business is more than slow.’ I nudged the full shot with a finger, watching the clear liquid slop over the edges. Blackgoat Watch had recently been slapped with a bill for back taxes. Gideon hadn’t been too worried, since I’d been offered a profitable contract by the Order of Guides, a militant organisation associated with the powerful Church of Higher Path. The Order had mistakenly taken my white hair to mean I was a Witch Hunter, despite my assurances that I wasn’t. I couldn’t sniff out a witch or warlock if my life depended on it. But the Grigori priest who ran the Order in Harken still wanted me to work with their Regulators for a season in a Witch Hunter capacity, hunting heretics, keeping the peace and generally poo-pooing all things fun.
With the earnings of my contract, Blackgoat should have been fine. But two things had happened in the last year to change that. Firstly, raiding pirates had affected sea trade routes and it was bad enough that the city was dragged into a recession. And the second reason? My contract with the Order was terminated after only three weeks. I was cited as being uncontrollable. Unpredictable. Not a team player. Of course, if anyone was to blame for this mess it was Gideon for green-lighting the idea in the first place. As if I was going to fit in with a militant religious order. Don’t wear skirts. Don’t wear heels. Don’t wear your hair down. Don’t show up drunk. All those rules had made my head hurt. Still, it had been quite unfair when everyone suspected me of starting the fire in the sacred library.
‘What do you think we should do?’ I pushed the shot glass aside. My moment of weakness had passed and now I just wanted to sulk in a dark room.
‘We’ll do our job,’ Crowhurst said. ‘Because we’re professionals.’
A crashing sound came from the ground floor, where Blackgoat’s reception and kitchen were located, and muffled shouts sounded through the floorboards. Crowhurst and I exchanged a startled glance, then sprinted for the door. Crowhurst yanked a dagger from his sleeve and I grabbed my goat-headed duelling cane. Downstairs, we followed the noise to the back courtyard, where a group of Runners shouted encouragement at two grappling men.
‘Break it up!’
My shout was drowned in a chorus of cheers and no one paid me any attention. Crowhurst tried to pull the brawling men apart and copped a jarring knock to his chin for his trouble. The Runners cheered louder and Crowhurst retreated, rubbing his jaw with a pained expression. I clicked the button on my arm-rig and a three-shot derringer snapped from my sleeve. I lifted an arm and fired once in the air, the sharp crack bouncing off the courtyard’s tall brick walls. The Runners fell silent and the fighting men drew apart, chests heaving and clothes dishevelled.
‘Everybody out.’ I shoved the gun back up my sleeve, then pointed at the two Runners who had been fighting. ‘Everyone but you two.’
No one argued. Stories about me had circulated around the city, to the point that they had entered a kind of urban legend status. Stories about the female Witch Hunter who could wield Outland weapons, guns that were a vast improvement on the flintlocks and wheellocks that operated within The Weald. Whatever mojo kept the realm hidden from the modern world also prevented modern machinery from working here. City philosophers had often cited this as a ‘state of grace’ and a sign of The Weald’s purity. I took it as a sign the city philosophers didn’t get out much. The fact that I’d never had trouble with modern machinery stalling inside The Weald was a little secret I’d tried to keep to myself. Being able to blend into the background was what kept you alive in the Runner industry.
The two fighters glared at each other, fists clenched by their sides. One was a slender man called Bone, while the other looked like a shaved gorilla and called himself Grubber. From his giant size I was pretty sure he was otherkin, but he hid it well enough I never asked. After all, it was common enough for otherkin to hide their unusual features, a result of their mixed blood of mystical races, especially with the prejudice that still existed in the city against them.
Crowhurst loitered, obviously thinking I wanted him to stay. Like I couldn’t bust balls on my own.
I served up a stern frown, channelling my inner Gideon. ‘What in hellfires is wrong with you two? What if a client had walked in and seen this pathetic excuse for professionalism?’
Grubber scowled. ‘He insulted my wife.’
‘What’d he say?’ I asked
‘He said my wife is so fat, I’d have to roll twice to get off her.’
Bone rubbed the back of his neck. ‘I meant it nicely. She’s just a lot of woman.’
I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed. I was at a loss as to how to proceed, but when in doubt, I knew to start yelling at someone. I fixed Bone with a glare and raised my voice.
‘What’s wrong with you, making jokes about a co-worker’s wife?’
‘You know she’s sensitive about her weight,’ Grubber muttered.
‘Easy now.’ Crowhurst stepped forward, hands raised. ‘I’m sure it was just a misunderstanding. I’m sure she’s a real lovely woman.’
‘You making fun?’ Grubber bristled at him. ‘You got something to say about my wife as well?’
‘Nobody wants to crack any more jokes about your wife,’ I told Grubber. ‘And this isn’t the place for you two to be fighting and breaking furniture.’ I stabbed a finger at Grubber.
‘Don’t be so sensitive.’ My finger shifted to Bone. ‘And you…keep your opinions to yourself. Now, both of you get the hell out of my sight.’
Grubber and Bone scowled at me, but I just planted my hands on my hips and glowered back. Just because they looked tough didn’t mean I couldn’t plant my velvet brocade boots between their legs and fell them like trees. Plus, right now I paid the bills and that pretty much ensured I got my way. Grubber and Bone righted the chairs and shuffled out of the courtyard, glaring at each other. Crowhurst bought his hands together in a slow clap.
‘Well done, boss. Saying things like you mean it. You’ll have this place ship-shape before Gideon gets back, no problems.’
‘Yeah, yeah,’ I sighed. ‘Except the best job we have on the books is searching for my old headmistress’s missing cat.’
‘You mean, her pussy?’ Crowhurst shook his head. ‘I nearly swallowed my tongue when you asked who’d want to do it mischief. You shouldn’t make fun of our clients.’
I snorted. ‘She did bring out the juvenile in me. But if we don’t pick up some jobs soon, Gideon will be coming back to a bankrupt company. Maybe I should turn this place into a bar and dice joint.’
‘You’d just drink and gamble the profits away,’ Crowhurst pointed out. ‘Maybe you should write and let Gideon know how bad things have gotten.’
‘No way.’ I righted a chair and sat down. My bad leg ached from the sudden rush downstairs and I ran a practised hand over the knotted muscles. A horse accident at sixteen had put me in a hospital with a fractured pelvis and cracked spine. My recovery had been long and painful, leaving me with a limp and an incurable fear of horses.
‘I can handle this,’ I said. ‘I told Gideon I’d pick up new work after losing the Order contract and I can’t let him down.’
Crowhurst folded his arms and gave me a slightly bemused smile. ‘You mind telling me how you lost the contract, exactly? You never did tell anyone, and Gideon wouldn’t say.’
‘It happened. Let’s leave it at that. But it really wasn’t my fault.’
‘I heard it was because you slept with a Grigori priest.’
‘Ewww.’ I make a gagging noise. ‘Really?’
‘Did it have anything to do with that big fire they had in their library?’
‘Just let it go,’ I snapped.
‘Whatever you say, boss.’
Tension rode up my neck and I rubbed it with a groan. ‘I really screwed things up.’
‘I’m sure you tried your hardest.’
I didn’t answer, because a small part of me wondered if I really did try hard enough. The fire had been an accident, but it had also been in a long list of infractions I’d committed while contracting with the Order. Fraternising with darkcraft users. Not adhering to the dress code. Illegal consumption of alcohol while on duty. Sacrilegious games of dice with the cooks inside the Order compound. The list was crowded. It had been a busy three weeks and I probably hadn’t been that rebellious since I was at school. Gideon had always said I had a problem with authority. Fortunately, his own vices were worse than mine, so we always got along just fine.
Crowhurst cleared his throat. I realised he was working up to saying something, but he looked worried about how I’d react.
‘What is it?’ I asked. ‘If you’ve got an idea, spit it out.’
He scratched his close cropped beard. ‘Someone approached me with a proposition. Initially I told them there was no way you’d be interested.’ He shrugged. ‘But now, seeing as we’ve got our backs to the wall, maybe you’ll consider it.’
‘What kind of proposition and from who?’ I eyed him suspiciously.
‘From whom,’ Crowhurst corrected absently. ‘And let me get more details. Make sure the money’s worth it.’
‘Sounds like something I don’t want to know about.’ I rolled my shoulders, trying to disperse my building tension. ‘So when you want to talk about it, bring beer to cushion the blow.’
In the distance, the city clock rang out to announce mid-afternoon and I knew had to get moving if I wanted to reach my destination in the Outlands that night. It wasn’t a paying job, but rather a chance to see Roman, an exiled nephilim warrior I was sort of involved with. Sort of. Gideon and Orella hadn’t been happy with my role in sneaking Roman to the Outlands, where he could recover from the madness some nephilim were cursed with. They were equally displeased with me shooting out every chance I got to see him.
‘I’ve got to go,’ I told Crowhurst. ‘I have that meeting tonight I told you about.’
His face darkened. ‘I should go with you.’
‘I don’t need a babysitter, thanks,’ I said. ‘And I wouldn’t go if it wasn’t important.’
Crowhurst made a disgusted sound. ‘Meeting up with your ex-Regulator lover boy isn’t more important than sticking around to keep Blackgoat running.’
‘I’ll only be gone the night. And it’s not just to see Roman. There’s an important sit-down happening and I was asked to attend.’
‘What kind of important sit-down?’ Crowhurst asked, eyeing me suspiciously.
I threw my hands up. ‘Just relax, will you? I told you, I’ll be back here tomorrow morning, bright and early to look for this freaking cat.’
‘Fine. But if you’re not here, I’m coming to get you.’
‘I can take care of myself.’ I stood and grabbed my cane. ‘I’m not kidding. And this job you mentioned? By all means, look into it. I’m desperate enough to try anything.’
A sly look slid over Crowhurst’s face. ‘I won’t forget you said that.’




About the Author:


Rebekah lives in sunny Queensland, Australia. An avid writer since she could scrawl on her bedroom walls, she has progressed from rainbow unicorn tales to stories of dark fantasy with lashings of romance and a sprinkling of horror.

Her vices include in-depth critiques of B grade action and horror movies and buying stationery she doesn’t need.




Twitter: @RbkahTurner





The Stone Legacy Series Cover Reveals & Giveaway!

Ishel
Stone Legacy Series
Prequel
Theresa DaLayne

Genre: YA/NA paranormal romance.

Publisher:  Itza Publishing
Date of Publication:  July 20th, 2015

Number of pages:  62 pages
Word Count:  15,000 words

Cover Artist:  Nadica En VonT
and Elle J Rossi

Book Description:

Trapped between duty and desire, even a goddess is forced to choose.

When Ishel falls madly in love, the Mayan goddess is left with a choice. Fulfill her royal obligation and marry the god of war, or follow her heart and elope wit the deity who has true claim over her heart—Kinich, ruler of the sun.

Determined to have Ishel as his wife, the god of war will stop at nothing to ensure their betrothal. Left with no other choice, she flees the heavens. But there is more at stake than even a goddess can foresee. An unexpected surprise awaits...One destined to challenge her immortality.

Without the goddess to tend to mankind’s plants and flowers, the middle world will surely perish. And how will she live on to protect the single person who needs her most?

Available at Amazon



Stone Guardian
Stone Legacy Series
Book 1
Theresa DaLayne

Genre: Ya/NA paranormal romance

Publisher: Itza Publishing
Date of Publication: July 20th, 2015 

Number of pages:  300
Word Count:  81,000

Cover Artist:  Nadica En VonT
and Elle J Rossi

Book Description: 

Zanya Coreandero is a seventeen-year-old orphan with only a single friend and no hope for a normal life. Diagnosed with anxiety and night terrors, no one believes her cuts and bruises are a result of the dark entity that dreams, and not a brutal case of self-harm.

When Zanya is kidnapped, she meets a group of gifted Maya descendants, each with a unique ability. Gone from a nameless castaway to the only hope of mankind, Zanya is forced to make a grueling decision. Bond with an enchanted stone and save mankind from rising underworld forces, or watch helplessly as Earth falls victim to a familiar dark deity from her dreams. This time, he’s playing for keeps.

When a dark-eyed timebender takes interest in Zanya's mission, it's unclear if his intention is to help, or if he's on a hell-bent mission for revenge. Wary of falling for a man with a major secret and a tainted past, Zanya fights to keep her distance. If only her heart gave her a choice.

Available at Amazon


Interlude
Stone Legacy Series
Book 2
Theresa DaLayne

Genre: YA/NA paranormal romance

Publisher: Itza Publishing
Date of Publication: August 20th, 2015

Number of pages: 150
Word Count: 35,000

Cover Artist:  Nadica En VonT
and Elle J Rossi

Book Description:

She may have spent years in an asylum, but that didn’t make her crazy–just fearless.

Dropped in Moscow with her friends on an impossible mission against underworld forces, Tara is left to her feelings of overwhelming inadequacy. Her boyfriend is a healer, her best friend is “the Guardian,” and everyone else is a powerhouse of awesome strengths. The only thing she has been able to contribute are her memories, which has left her with nightmares of her time spent at the mercy of the evil Sarian–who everyone has gone to fight.

Alone with her emotions, Tara finds herself falling into a city of depravity and corruption. And amidst all this evil is a young man with an agenda of his own, who leads her down a road that will either prove she is a hero at heart, or drag her into a world she’s always feared.

He wants revenge, she wants redemption. And in an underground rings of missing girls and bloody sacrifices, only the fearless can survive…



About the Author:

A long time enthusiast of things that go bump in the night, Theresa began her writing career as a journalism intern—possibly the least creative writing field out there. After her first semester at a local newspaper, she washed her hands of press releases and features articles to delve into the whimsical world of young adult paranormal romance.

Since then, Theresa has gotten married, had three terrific kids, moved to central Ohio, and was repeatedly guilt tripped into adopting a menagerie of animals that are now members of the family. But don’t be fooled by her domesticated appearance. Her greatest love is travel. Having stepped foot on the soil of over a dozen countries, traveled to dozens of U.S. states—including an extended seven-year stay in Kodiak, Alaska—she is anything but settled down. But wherever life brings her, she will continue to weave tales of adventure and love with the hope her stories will bring joy and inspiration to her readers.