Thursday, November 30, 2023

Danje Release Blitz #rabtbooktours


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 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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Holy Smoke Cover Reveal #rabtbooktours


Paranormal Romance/Romantasy

Date Published: 02/06/2024


Lust and lies? Now those, Jovi can handle.

But falling for a demon hunter like Nash Rogan?

Really dumb move for a succubus on the run.



But he's acting like one. Breaking rules, spilling secrets—touching her.

He lives in the shadows. But the more Jovi lights him up, the less he wants to go back to the dark.

Sparks fly when Jovi and Rogan are forced to flee—and fight—as an unwilling duo in HOLY SMOKE, the first in the HELLBOUND series by Gin Griffith.

About the Author

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Author on Instagram / Twitter / Facebook -  @gingriffithofficial


Publisher on Instagram / Twitter / Facebook - @harborlanebooks

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Mr. Deadletters Book Blitz #rabtbooktours


Vol. I


Romantic Poetry

Date Published: 11/09/23



Prepare to go on a poetic journey that will ignite your senses and awaken your deepest desires. Michael D. Dennis invites you to delve into the intoxicating world of love, passion, and sensuality with his captivating collection of micropoetry, MrDeadletters Vol. I. These verses are carefully curated from his renowned social media accounts, where Michael has gained a devoted following for his fearless exploration of love, lust, and the human heart.

In this volume, Michael lays bare the raw essence of modern love, intertwining it seamlessly with a touch of enticing kinkiness. His words are a symphony of emotions, a lyrical celebration of intimacy, and a poetic revelation of the bonds that connect us on a profound level. Each verse, each line, pulses with authenticity, taking you on an exhilarating rollercoaster ride through the highs and lows of the human heart.

These poems are not just meant to be read; they are meant to be experienced, to be shared with your cherished friend, lover, partner, husband, or wife. When you gift them this collection, you're offering a key to unlock a realm of passion and connection that knows no bounds. Michael D. Dennis's micropoetry has the power to spark flames of desire, rekindle the fires of romance, and deepen the bonds of love.

About the Author

Michael D. Dennis is an author and playwright who earned a degree in English literature from Loyola Marymount University.

Winner of a LMU Playwriting Award for his play Death of a Watchdog, Dennis also had his play Hen in the Field produced at the Whitefire Theatre in 2012.

Dennis currently lives with his wife and two kids in Los Angeles, California.


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Wednesday, November 29, 2023

Listen, Share, and Be Nice Book Blitz


the lost art of mannerisms


Children's Book

Date Published: May 21, 2023

Publisher: MindStir Media

Cori Elba (Illustrator)


These three words: Listen, Share and be Nice can be basic cornerstones for your child’s growth and development. Teaching your toddler is a daily routine. Using the same mannerisms towards them every day establishes a routine that they become accustomed to. Iif you stick to this routine daily, it teaches and reminds your child to be nice to others and to those in your family. But parents do not expect a miracle in 24 hours give it time… It will take six months to a year to see the effect in your child’s behavior. Just repeat, repeat, repeat your words of action.

Politeness is spoken worldwide and in every language, whether in public or private. The simplicity of kindness teaches that everyone matters in this world. These three children's books (“Please, Thank You and Excuse Me,” “Listen, Share, and Be Nice,” and “Animal Etiquette for Kids”) are lighthearted and geared for all ages. Mannerisms must start somewhere, so why not parents, grandparents, teachers, friends, and caregivers show our children mutual respect for all people, places, and things?

This series of children's books is a fun way to re-introduce manners into your children's lives. It's cool to be polite and kind to everyone.

About the Author

Ashley has been a professional nanny for over fifteen years and the owner of a nanny service. She incorporates nature with mild education and mannerisms in children's lives. When Ashley is not a nanny, she is a world traveler, nature enthusiast, and loves mountain biking, yoga, and spending time with her nephew, Walker.


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Tuesday, November 28, 2023

Journey to Bethlehem Book Blitz #rabtbooktours

Religion & Spirituality

Date Published: 11-25-2022

Publisher: OACC Media


Come with me to Bethlehem. A sleepy hamlet in the mountains of Southern Israel. Here we will find a newborn baby lying in a manger surrounded by his parents and barn animals.

It doesn’t seem like the most idyllic Christmas. There is no tree, no presents, and no stockings hung by the fireplace. Everything is ordinary. Jesus lying in a mound of hay is the furthest thing from extraordinary. Yet, the Savior of the world begins his first moments here in this barn, in this village.

During this journey, you will discover the true meaning of the season. It’s not the glow of lights or the smell of pine needles. We celebrate Christmas because of Jesus Christ, God’s gift to us.


About the Author

Joseph Guy serves as the President of Joseph Guy International Ministries, an organization dedicated to reaching people around the world through digital ministry. He is the host of the podcast Biblical Insight With Pastor Joseph, and winner of the 2022 Readers’ Favorite 5-Star Review Award. It is his goal to change the world one life at a time through the timeless message of the Gospel. The great outdoors is where you can find him when he's not building God's kingdom.


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The Keeper of the Book Release Blitz #rabtbooktours

Action Adventure

Date Published: November 13, 2023


In the year 2043, World Council Edict 1735B proclaimed that all of the world religions were to be outlawed in the interest of public safety. Houses of Worship were labeled centers of dissension and attending any underground religious service was punishable by imprisonment and relocation. To possess any religious artifact or Holy Book was a mandatory death sentence. Jenny Keane is a Believer, a Christian and the proud owner of a Holy Bible given to her by her Grandmother. Michael Keane, her husband, is a former Special Forces Operative. He is not a believer in the holy teachings of any religion. Michael gave up the warrior path to live a cherished, peaceful life with his family. Jenny and the children, while attending an illegal religious service are captured by sadistic One World troops and taken to a reeducation camp. This sets Michael out on a one man rescue mission to bring his family home and nothing short of death will stop him. Against impossible odds he walks a path of revenge and destruction with no negotiation, no rules of engagement and no mercy for his enemies. He is aided by the unseen prayers of the faithful and years of experience in killing his foes.

About the Author

Ryland Harris is a father, a builder and a combat decorated Marine. He resides in the Appalachian mountains of southwestern Virginia. He enjoys long hikes in the mountains, designing and building houses and spending time with his children. He shares his life with nine chickens, three goats and a black mouth cur dog.


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'Tis the Season Teaser #rabtbooktours


Passages, Book 1

Holiday, Gay, Romance, New Adult

Date Published: December 01, 2023

Publisher: Changeling Press


Is it possible to be both a good Jew and a gay man? Jonah Dillon doesn’t think so. He can’t reconcile his faith with his attraction to men so he turns his back on Judaism. Away at college for the holidays, he plans to lose his virginity to Christian, the blue-eyed, blond, goy of his dreams.

But fate intervenes when Jonah meets Aaron Beck, an observant Jew, and they end up celebrating Hanukkah together. Aaron tells Jonah they're beschert—meant to be. Jonah’s not sure he believes it, but he's lonely and welcomes Aaron's company even if he has to celebrate Hanukkah to get it.

Can Aaron bridge the gap and convince Jonah to take a leap of faith? Or will they have to give up their desire for a future together?


Copyright ©2023 Gale Stanley

The man’s image in the mirror, framed by small twinkling lights and swags of spruce and holly, appeared to be just the sort of ornament Jonah had been looking for all his life -- or at least the part of his life that spanned the years since puberty. The phrase “objects in the mirror are closer than they appear” came to mind, making him smile. I should be so lucky.

Unfortunately, Jonah’s plan to remain on campus for the holidays and lose his virginity to a non-Jew, a goy, wasn’t going according to plan, although he’d gone to great lengths to make it happen.

The worst part had to be when he told his parents that he wouldn’t be coming home for Hanukkah. None of the excuses he came up with felt right and he procrastinated for a long time.

Finally, he could wait no longer. Working up the courage, he called his mother and blurted out the dreaded words, before he lost his nerve. “I’ll be staying on campus for the holidays.”

Dead silence followed his announcement, followed by a worried, “Why?”

Jonah had never been good at lying. He struggled to sound believable. “I have so much to do. The workload in grad school is much heavier and the holidays are the best time to catch up.”

“Bring your work home.”

Also not good at asserting himself, Jonah hemmed and hawed. “I’d be way too busy. No time to interact.”

Unfortunately, his mother was way too good at guilt-tripping him.

Her voice wavered, and she sounded on the verge of tears. “We just want to see you. We don’t ask for much. And we’ve always spent Hanukkah together. I’m making your favorites, latkes and sweet kugel.

A knife pierced his heart, but Jonah thought fast and stayed firm. “One of my friends is stuck on campus, too, and I promised him we would study together.” Another lie.

“Bring him home.”

“I can’t, Mom, He’s… it’s just that…”

“He’s a girl, isn’t he? Well, if it doesn’t work out, you can always change your mind and come home.”

“Sorry, Mom. I’ll talk to you soon.”

Jonah hung up before his mom could ask any more questions. Damn, she sounded like her world had come to an end. If only he wasn’t an only child. If he had a sibling to pick up the slack, it would make his life a whole lot easier. Taking a few deep breaths, he calmed himself. There would be other holidays.

Now, sitting alone at a bar, he wondered if all the grief he’d caused his mother had been for nothing. Not many students or professors had remained on campus, so Jonah had ventured off campus to find a hook-up. Happy Hour at a bar seemed the best option, but Jonah didn’t have an ounce of gaydar in his body, and gay guys didn’t go around wearing sexual ID tags. Luckily, he’d found a gay watering hole in the small college town. The rainbow flag flying out front had been a dead giveaway, and the name, The Rainbow Room. Could it be any gayer? When he first saw it, he wanted to take off like a scared rabbit, but he’d been doing that for far too long.

Jonah had forced himself to open the door and go inside. It was a gay bar, so what? Nothing remarkable, nothing to be scared of, just a neighborhood bar, a place where a guy could have a conversation without screaming over loud dance music. Actually, there was no dance floor, and that was all good too. Jonah Dillon didn’t dance, especially with other men. The only thing that differentiated The Rainbow Room from any other corner dive was the fact that it was devoid of women.

Wooden stools butted up against a foot rail at the bar and the mirrored wall behind the bar threw back his reflection. A bearded bartender, sleeves rolled up over hairy forearms, filled orders. Holiday decorations were minimal. Other than the lights around the mirror, there weren’t any, and that was okay because he’d been born and raised Jewish, and a man assimilated a lot of attitudes and beliefs in twenty-one years. Ridding himself of them would take a lifetime. At least.

Having to stare at a Christmas tree or a Nativity scene while flirting with a blond goy would have made him feel even guiltier. Ironic, that the thought of sucking an uncut cock didn’t inspire quite the same guilt. Or maybe he was just too fucking horny to care anymore. Lost in thought, Jonah wondered if he was normal. Between waking up with morning wood and masturbating before bed, it seemed like he was always thinking about sex.

When he got to college, he’d settled for hurried blowjobs with other students. It took the edge off, but Jonah wanted more. It was time to let someone put their dick in his ass so he could lose his anal virginity. Finding a willing partner who made him feel comfortable was primary. One thing he was sure of, he wouldn’t be comfortable having sex with another Jew.

So here he was, trying to fit in with the goyim, to the point of actually shopping for one of those ugly red and green Christmas sweaters with prancing deer. Seeing himself in the dressing room mirror shocked the hell out of him, but he bought it anyway, and ran out of the shop before he could change his mind. He wore it like a costume, thinking it would make him feel less inhibited and able to take some risks.

But as Jonah discovered, the sweater didn’t help him blend in. His appearance in the bar had triggered a few snickers, and after glancing around at the jeans-and-sweatshirt crowd, he’d regretted his choice.

His inner voice told him he was trying too hard and he looked like an asshole. At the time, it’d seemed like a good idea. Now, he just felt dumb, but he forgave himself for not getting it right and toughed it out. Fuck it.

Jonah ordered a beer. The bartender set down a mug wet with condensation, and a bowl of peanuts. Jonah took a few and cracked them out of their shells. He tried to look like he belonged, but nobody looked like him and everybody seemed to be with friends. Ignoring the conversations around him, he glanced at his watch every so often, as if he were waiting for someone. It made him feel less alone. Pathetic.

What would his mother say if she could see him now? Come home, boychik. You don’t belong there. Thank goodness, she was miles away and oblivious. He’d never told his parents he was gay. Hell, it had taken years to admit it to himself.

He concentrated on today’s goal -- find a guy to have sex with. How hard could it be? Pretty damn hard, even in a place that was user friendly.

Jonah took another swallow of his beer. God, he hated this time of the year. The holidays always made him feel more alone than ever. His back was to the room, but he could still see the crowd in the mirror -- guys of all shapes and sizes, pairing up like animals ready to board Noah’s Ark, while he was mooning over a stranger. It was damn depressing.

Finishing his beer, he scanned the mirror for the blond. Yep, still there, but focused on the two men who framed him like bookends.

Hooking up with the man in the mirror didn’t seem likely. Jonah would not, could not, make the first move, and for sure he didn’t expect the hot blond to hit on him. Why would he? Jonah was a man who didn’t stand out in a crowd, unless it was for all the wrong reasons. After a lifetime of doing stupid shit, he’d become an expert at sabotaging himself. Too bad State College didn’t offer a course in How Not to Embarrass Yourself.

The hot blond was exactly the type of man he could see himself with. He had the sun-kissed good looks of a surfer dude -- blond, blue-eyed, and cherub-cheeked -- a nice contrast to Jonah’s dark brown hair, hazel eyes, and stubbled jaw. The nerdy guy and the goy. Pitiful. More than the width of the bar separated them.

But looking couldn’t hurt.


About the Author

Gale Stanley grew up in Philadelphia PA. She was the kid who always had her nose in a book, her head in the clouds, and her hands on a pad and pencil.

Some things never change.


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


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Monday, November 27, 2023

Surviving Hospice Book Blitz #rabtbooktours


A Chaplain's Journey Into the Business of Dying How to Find a Trustworthy Provider


Nonfiction / Medical

Date Published: October 9, 2023

Publisher: MindStir Media


Maryclaire Torinus invites you to join her at the bedsides of dying patients. Her enlightenment becomes your learning as each chapter unfolds. Her admiration for hospice helps her see its darker side. Her list of interview questions for those seeking good, community-oriented hospice is a valuable tool.

Larry Patten, Retired United Methodist Minister, Hospice Chaplain, author of "A Companion for the Hospice Journey.

Maryclaire Torinus received certification in Clinical Pastoral Education for Chaplaincy at St. Camillus Senior Living Residence. She worked as a hospice chaplain and as a hospice consumer advocate for eight years. She also worked for two years as a pastoral counselor in an acute-care wing of the Milwaukee County Behavioral Health Complex. Maryclaire is a Wisconsin native and met her husband, Mark, in the fifth grade. She and Mark were married for 37 years until he died in 2013. They have three children and three grandchildren.

Praise for Surviving Hospice

Powerful, beautifully written, and eye-opening, this book spotlights the inner workings of a multi-billion-dollar industry and the effect on patients, families, and hospice staff. The author shares poignant accounts of hospice at its best and worst and the hard-hitting truths she learned on her journey. A must-read for family members exploring hospice care.

Stacy Juba, author, editor, and award-winning health journalist


Maryclaire Torinus speaks with authority, providing this essential handbook for choosing a hospice care team and why that selection really matters.

Laura Kukowski, CEO

For-Profit Badger Hospice, LLC


About the Author

I am intellectual, contemplative, and intuitive. I resonate deeply with the writing and theological teachings of Franciscan Friar Richard Rohr and am a One on the Enneagram Spiritual Inventory. I recently converted from Roman Catholicism to Episcopalian and I am an active member of St. Mark’s Church in Milwaukee. My colleagues have told me that I am a bridge-maker and an agent for change and spiritual growth. I am a lover of water with a passion for kayaking.

I think it’s important to take healthy (informed) risks in life, which is why I am writing this book. During my years of study in the field of music, I’ve grown to love the vocal polyphony of the Renaissance period, Broadway musicals, and the film scores composed by John Williams (Schindler’s List and E.T.) My favorite performing experiences have been in Europe, Carnegie Hall, semi-professional theater roles, and touring with my college vocal jazz ensemble.

After more than 35 years of marriage I lost my husband and best friend to heart failure. I am a mom to three millennials and am a nana to three grandchildren and three cats.

My love of travel began when I studied abroad for a year in W. Berlin, Germany during the height of the Cold War; where I was profoundly affected by the history, culture, post-war politics, and ghastly Soviet-built wall. It was my first experience living amidst suffering.

Favorite memories over the years include riding a sweaty, stumbling horse for 6 hours into the Bob Marshall Wilderness to fly-fish, camp, and raft; hoofing up “The Great Wall” of China for three hours in a torrent of rain and wind; and cross-country skiing with my husband into a Colorado valley; lit only by the moon and our head lamps.

My Bachelor Degree is in Vocal Music Education from St. Norbert College. My Master’s degree is in Religious Studies from Cardinal Stritch University. I trained in Clinical Pastoral Education for Chaplaincy at St. Camillus Skilled Nursing Facility in Milwaukee, Wisconsin. I was humbled to receive the Heart of Compassion Award in 2012, as one of the top chaplains in the nation for my company. I studied at the Writers Institute at UW Madison, The Clearing Folk School in Door County, and Red Oak Writing Studio.

My career in pastoral ministry culminated in my position as a full-time Hospice Chaplain at the same time that my husband was dying. Having also endured a serious clinical depression in my early fifties, my combined personal and professional experiences offered a peculiar benefit for my work in Hospice – where holding a certain comfort level with suffering and loss was imperative.

I have worked in the fields of education, hospice chaplaincy, and eldercare for almost 30 years. My chaplain ministry has afforded many opportunities to speak at funerals, conduct workshops on the industry of hospice, and teach on the Spirituality of Aging.

From this experience, I am offering my knowledge with the mission of helping consumers navigate hospice services.


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Wednesday, November 22, 2023

Sophia von X Book Blitz #rabtbooktours


Heist Crime, Religious Thriller, Mystery, Suspense, Adventure

Date Published: March 2020



"Sophia von X” is a 2020 Readers' Favorite Silver Medal Winner in the Fiction - Religious Theme genre!

It was supposed to be a vacation, the trip to a newly discovered tomb of Jesus…

When Sabina Ferrara was driving to Bingerbruck, Germany, she was hoping to put a painful marriage behind her. Certain unforeseen events turned against her, and during a visit to Christ’s tomb, she meets Thomas von Essen – a dangerous thief who is hiding behind the name of a decent family, pretending that he is a famous archaeologist. Against her will, Sabina is dragged into the middle of the stealing of biblical artifacts, killings, and shootings. She ended up attracting the attention of an unknown enemy from Jerusalem, a wicked man called Papa Zen. A powerful mogul who knows too much about Sabina and her mysterious birthmark. She is the one he was looking for so long…

12 lost pages from the Bible

Car chases, guns, and fights

Yakuza and Ndrangheta families

Palermo, Istanbul, Jerusalem

Deaths, tears, broken hearts

Sophia von X is a story of violence, obsession, secrets and tragedy, lies, hate, and love.


About the Author

SE Crème de la Crème author Victoria Ray lives in a small town 62 miles west of Stockholm. She has garnered much acclaim for her So Absurd It Must Be True series and her Sophia von X thriller.

Victoria is a finalist for the prestigious Readers Favorite Contest and has been nominated for a Book Excellence Award for original writing. When she is not writing, Victoria spends most of her time reading, cooking, traveling the world, walking with her dogs, and catching her favorite Gota Lejon shows. An admitted sweets fanatic, she feeds her addiction by visiting the local bakery April on Sunday afternoons.

Keep in touch with Victoria via Instagram: @victoriaray_nb

Visit Ray's blog on WordPress -

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Sugar and Ice New Release Blitz #IndiGo

Title:  Sugar and Ice

Series: Kitten and Blonde, Book 1.5

Author: Eule Grey

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 11/21/2023

Heat Level: 1 - No Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 26100

Genre: Holiday Paranormal, Contemporary, paranormal, lesbian, British/Yorkshire, holiday/Christmas, news bloggers, mystery, witch, ghost hijinks, bakers, holiday baking, humorous, over forty, disability-confident, neurodivergence

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Sugar, ice, and bumps in the night…

After a thrilling year of ghost-whispering, monster-chasing, and blogging for the Echo, Mave Kitten is keen to abandon her witchy hat for a well-earned break. Snowflakes are drifting in; the office is stuffed with fruit cake. How to win the pub karaoke without cheating (too much) is all that’s left to worry about.

Aside from fiddling the office’s debts and choosing a suitable karaoke costume, Lisa Blonde is also ready for the party season, not forgetting a crate of beer. As long as Mave’s happy, Lisa’s happy.

But best-laid plans can come unstuck for witches and their leather-clad familiars. The ghost of Jacky Frost blows in with the snow, demanding a playmate. How can Mave and Lisa say no to the dancing queen of ice? Even ghosts deserve a Christmas.

The playful ice queen goes viral, and the Echo unexpectedly gains hundreds of readers. Only a few gremlins remain: What of the Echo’s overdraft? Who’ll win the karaoke? Where’s Lisa’s motorcycle?

Kitten and Blonde: Holiday Baking Hijinks Mostly Paranormal. Sometimes alien. Always gentle.


Sugar and Ice
Eule Grey © 2023
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
The first fluffy snowflakes floated past the office window on Friday afternoon three weeks before Christmas. Mesmerised by crystalline sugar bombs descending in battalions of tiny white parachutes, bursting with glee, I hurried to the window.

“Eeeeee. Ooooo. Snowwwww.”

The weightless descent of the snowflakes eased the tension gnarling up my muscles. My shoulders—hunched past my ears from stress—relaxed for the first time in months.

I’d always loved the snow and everything it brought. Frozen puddles, frost-stiffened leaves, snow angels, death-defying sledges, snowball fights, hot chocolates heaped with marshmallows, and sweet kiddie choirs.

During the annual festivities the Echo was due to close for two weeks, and I couldn’t wait. Everyone was reeling from a long and arduous year, including yours truly. Fifteen hauntings, two monster searches, an alien brothel, and a tryst with the lizard lady of Ladybower Reservoir had fallen into my pile of to-dos during the last twelve months. Consequently, I was ready to hang up my witch toolkit for a few days of well-earned rest.

“Oo, Lise, look!”

The boss held up one finger, rigid with tension. “Two minutes.”

I held my breath.

The root of our anxiety was the financial report Lisa had all but completed. Compiling the lengthy document had taken months of work and required much patience from each member of the Echo’s employees—me, Lisa, and Penelope.

Our workforce enjoyed an equal distribution of labour. My contribution had been to make tea and to keep the biscuit jar filled to bursting. Lisa’s had been to manipulate monetary figures through a sweary haze, one eye closed. Penelope snoozed, paws in the air, perhaps dreaming of overdrafts.

Finally, at three anxious minutes to two, Lisa furiously poked one finger against her keyboard before heaving an expansive sigh that probably reached the northern pole. “Finished. Delivered. I doubt we’ll still be in business by Easter.” She pulled her Medusa face and made the slit throat gesture. “Accountants, ugh. Why must they be puritanical about zeros? It wasn’t like I meant to mix up the thousands with the tens.”

I was too relieved to listen well. The report had been on my mind since autumn when the accountant had unexpectedly appeared, brandishing threats of closure. Now it was finished, my brain demanded a rest. “Mm. Easily done. Well done, babe.”

It had been fifteen months since my employment commenced at the Echo. A day hadn’t passed without Lisa proclaiming the tiny newspaper where we worked debt-ridden and doomed. And yet, the journal continued churning out local stories and offering a home to our resident kitty, Penelope Sardine. Somehow, we three made the Echo work. My blogs about the paranormal and Lisa’s ‘cunning’ grant proposals brought in enough revenue to continue another month and then another, even if our wages had plummeted to the frugal depths of bugger all. With all of my heart, I trusted Lisa to secure the necessary dosh—she was leather-clad, six feet tall, and oozing with grr.

There were other concerns to think about. Lisa’s Christmas present, Dad’s arthritis, and—elixir of life—the fast-approaching Christmas karaoke showdown at The Grouse. Lisa and I had won the big prize back at Easter but later lost the Halloween crown to the vampire sisters of Whitby. Heck, I was bitter. A free tankard of Witches Tipple ale was not to be belittled. With finances tricky, any win was a grin, especially when accompanied by thunderous cheering. Even the pub gremlin, Pat, had admitted our rendition of “Bat out of Hell” had been impactful enough to shatter glass, though the stingy bastard hadn’t said we were good. Huh.

A firm grip on my shoulders saved me from the murky world of memories and brought me back into the office. I loved Lisa’s shoulder massages, often coinciding with a wee cuddle.

She pushed aside my hair and tickled my neck. “I’m on edge now. What’re you dreaming about, Mauvery? Is it me?”

I answered honestly; my voice turned mushy from the intimate pressure of her hands against my skin and the subsequent promise of spending the night at hers. “Always.” Lisa filled most of my waking hours and most of my sleeping time. “Forget about the report. It’s done, and there’s nothing more we can do. What are we going to sing at the karaoke? Only three weeks till the big day.” I couldn’t help a soupçon of yippee from entering my voice. “We’d better get cracking with rehearsals if we’re going to beat the fanged sisters.”

She nibbled my neck. “True. Did you know you taste of gingerbread?”

We hugged into Friday afternoon, a cherished time to forget niggly worries and welcome in the heady pleasures of pub singing. Lisa and I adored karaoke. Our weekly practice precipitated a wealth of welcome shenanigans, such as snogging and boogie-boogie. Both were vital components of a healthy life.

As Lisa’s nibbles reached the point of no return, more substantial snowflakes floated down in ever-increasing battalions.

I waved my pen towards the window. “Have you seen the forecast?” Because we both biked to work, we scrutinised the weather like meteorologists. A patch of black ice could potentially mean a broken wheel or worse. In our mountainous part of the north, snow could mean a total shutdown of roads and passes. At the first hint of snow, Yorkshire folk took up arms. Bus drivers refused to leave the depot, trains remained safely at stations, and workers hurtled through the white to get home however they could.

I wasn’t worried about a little white stuff. Lisa would take care of things, and her cottage was only a few miles from the Echo. We could walk to hers during heavy snowfall and snuggle up with Tom, her younger brother, for the weekend.

She blew a raspberry on my neck. “Meant to be a flutter today and then nothing till next week. The gritters have been out. He’s a devil in disguise.”

My poor brain—scatty at times—struggled to follow the conversational thread from ice into devils. I naturally assumed the devil to whom she referred was the accountant who’d chastised Lisa for glossing over the size of the Echo’s overdraft. “Disguised as what?”

Lisa perched her lovely self on the only posh stool we possessed—pink, transparent, bought from Salts Mill, no less—and squinted into the snowflakes gathering on the window ledge. “Oh? I never thought of costumes.” An irresistible energy lit her face. She rubbed her hands together gleefully. “Now you’re talking! We’d need wigs, and you could get away with a sexy white suit.” She flashed her molars. “The vampire sirens won’t stand a chance. You’re a genius, Mauve Mave.”

By then, I’d exited the arena of confusion and skidded right into the land of clueless. The only answer written on Lisa’s face was a glowing excitement you didn’t see enough of anymore. People were more often pinched about money and how to heat the house. The pursuit of fun for no other reason than its own sake seemed to have passed into yesterday, along with other stalwarts such as yo-yos.

I willingly dived into the glee shining from her eyes. Weary of the stresses and strains of life, I, too, ached to forget about adulthood, if only for a while. To live within a moment rather than being hammered by the past and the future.

So I agreed to her suggestions though I had no clue what she was on about. “Yeah! Wig and white suit.”

Lisa leaped to her feet and punched the air energetically. Her top rode up to reveal a very kissable belly button. The spectacle was marvellous, and I’d rather have turned into a toad than crush her enthusiasm. Hence my mini Friday dance. In the heady chaos, I clean forgot to worry about the dreaded report or if we’d have a job come January.

Just as a sprinkle of pure magic illuminated the afternoon, Lisa had to throw a figurative spanner into my happy cauldron. In a sexy, lasso-like action, she deftly threw me my coat.

“C’mon, chick. We’ve done enough work for one day. Let’s visit Jalila. There’s something you need to see. The roads are meant to be okay until Sunday. If we run, we’ll catch the twenty-past bus.


NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Eule Grey has settled, for now, in the north UK. She’s worked in education, justice, youth work, and even tried her hand at butter-spreading in a sandwich factory. Sadly, she wasn’t much good at any of them! She writes novels, novellas, poetry, and a messy combination of all three. Nothing about Eule is tidy but she rocks a boogie on a Saturday night! For now, Eule is she/her or they/them. Eule has not yet arrived at a pronoun that feels right.

Website | Facebook | Twitter


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Tuesday, November 21, 2023

Iron Teaser Tuesday #rabtbooktours


A Dixie Reapers Bad Boys Romance

Hades Abyss MC, Book 11

Motorcycle Club Romance

Date Published: November 24, 2023



Nari – Pain. Humiliation. Those are the things my father taught me, and every man I’ve met since. Running away from home didn’t fix anything. Now I’m nineteen and back in the town my family calls home. I haven’t told them I’m here, and I don’t plan to. But I also didn’t count on a biker giving me a ride, and leaving me at the Hades Abyss compound. They say they’ll help me, but can I trust them? What if they’re just as bad as all the others?

Iron –I’m no stranger to the darker side of life. Sometimes I’m the monster lurking in the shadows. Still, there’s a line I won’t cross. I will never harm an innocent woman or child. The moment I saw the tiny Asian woman cowering in front of Titan, I wanted to protect her from the world. She’s been beaten, yet she’s not broken. I’ve never met anyone like Nari before. Despite how timid she appears, she’s stronger than she realizes. I know I’ll do whatever it takes to make her smile and keep her safe, even if it means getting blood on my hands. The moment her family tries to take her from me, I’ll show them what it means for Nari to be mine.

WARNING: Iron is intended for readers 18+ due to bad language, violence, and adult situations. There’s no cheating, no cliffhanger, and a guaranteed happily ever after.


Copyright ©2023 Harley Wylde



My cheek pressed into the carpet as Gio held me down. I knew I’d be covered in bruises within the hour, if I wasn’t already. Nothing new. It seemed all I had to do was breathe in order to piss him off. I’d only stayed due to a lack of options. Leaving Gio would only mean taking a chance on someone else. Men didn’t help runaway teens for nothing. They either made us drug mules, thieves, or prostitutes. I couldn’t think of a way to escape. Everyone I’d ever trusted had betrayed me. Why should that change?

If things had been different, if my family had cared even a little, I never would have run away. Living at home had been awful, but my life on the streets was far worse.

“You stupid, worthless cunt! Where’s my money?” he asked for the fifth time. As if my answer was suddenly going to change.

“I told you I don’t have it. I couldn’t find any work today, Gio.” Or more accurately, I hadn’t found a mark. Stealing was my forte.

He leaned in closer. “Then you have a choice, Nari. You can pay the money by spending a few nights at the house on Spruce, or you find a high paying job before morning. Which is it going to be?”

I swallowed hard. It wasn’t really a choice at all. I refused to go near drugs, and I really didn’t want to be a whore. I couldn’t understand the girls and women who chose that path. I didn’t look down on them for it, but it wasn’t something I’d ever voluntarily do. Of course, if I wanted a legal job, there was always the strip club. Except I hadn’t really been blessed in the curves department. I didn’t even need a bra. Who the hell would pay to watch me take my clothes off? Now, letting him use me as a whore in his brothel? That was a different story. Those men didn’t much care what a woman looked like, and I knew he wouldn’t be sending his top customers my way. All they wanted was a living woman to fuck, although it wouldn’t surprise me if some didn’t even care if I was alive when they fucked me. I’d learned the hard way just how screwed up people could be.

“I’ll find a job,” I said. “Please, Gio. I really tried.”

He finally released me and stood. “Fine. By sunrise, you better have something lined up. If not, don’t bother coming home. You either take your ass over to Spruce, or you better run.”

As if running would do me any good. He’d track me down and things would be even worse. But I had to try. I refused to go down without a fight, or at the very least a last-ditch effort. If only I’d known I was heading this direction the moment I walked out of my dad’s house. Not once had I seen my picture on the news or in any papers. He’d never bothered to search for me. Why would he when he had his precious Joon?

Maybe I could go home. Or at least back to my hometown. I didn’t think Gio would ever think to look for me there. He knew how much I hated that place, and the hell I’d been through while I lived at home. Yeah. I should go back. I didn’t bring in enough money for him to chase me across state lines.

I waited until Gio left, then packed a small backpack. It wasn’t like I owned much anyway. Grabbing the little bit of cash I’d managed to hide, I shoved it into my satchel and left the house for the last time. One way or another, I was leaving this place behind. I didn’t care if I had to hitchhike all the way back to Mississippi.

Every step made pain explode through my body. I stopped to put on my hoodie and made sure my face was mostly covered. I didn’t need anyone seeing the marks on my body and stopping to ask questions. A rumble of a motorcycle came up behind me and slowed. I quickly glanced toward the street and realized the man was eyeing me.

I assessed his overall size and wondered if I could outrun him. Men prowling the streets for women always spelled trouble.

“Do you need a ride somewhere?” he asked.

I took in every detail of his appearance, from his Native American genes to the leather cut declaring him part of the Reckless Kings MC. I hadn’t heard of them, but there was a group of bikers in my hometown. They’d been a little scary, but I’d never heard of them hurting kids or anything. Was his club the same? Just because he looked rough and little scary didn’t mean he was a bad guy. Sometimes, the ones who looked like wholesome decent men were the most vicious.

He sighed and inched the bike closer. “Look. My name is Crow. I’m not going to hurt you, but it looks like you’re in some trouble and trying to get out of here. So you can get on the back of my bike and I’ll take you as far as I can. Or you can keep walking and hope whoever you’re running from doesn’t catch up. With the way you’re moving, I’m going to assume someone beat the hell out of you.”

I winced. He noticed that? “I’m going to Mississippi.”

“What part?” he asked.

“Ever heard of a club called the Hades Abyss? I’m going to that town,” I said.

He nodded. “I know them. Get on and I’ll make sure you get home. It’s a little out of my way, but it’s fine.”

Without another thought, I climbed on behind him and put my arms around his waist. It wasn’t my first time on a motorcycle, even if it had been years ago. It also wasn’t the first time I’d put my trust in a stranger. He’d either keep me safe, or I’d trade one abusive asshole for another.

“I’m Nari,” I said. “Thanks for the ride.”

“Sure thing, kid. Hold on tight.” He twisted the throttle , revving the engine, then eased the bike forward. As he picked up speed and shifted gears, the wind whipped the hood off my head. I closed my eyes and pressed my forehead to his back. For the first time in forever, I felt free.

I didn’t know if I’d made the right choice, but there was no going back now.

About the Author

Harley Wylde is an accomplished author known for her captivating MC Romances. With an unwavering commitment to sensual storytelling, Wylde immerses her readers in an exciting world of fierce men and irresistible women. Her works exude passion, danger, and gritty realism, while still managing to end on a satisfying note each time.

When not crafting her tales, Wylde spends her time brainstorming new plotlines, indulging in a hot cup of Starbucks, or delving into a good book. She has a particular affinity for supernatural horror literature and movies. Visit Wylde's website to learn more about her works and upcoming events, and don't forget to sign up for her newsletter to receive exclusive discounts and other exciting perks.

Author’s Instagram, TikTok, and Facebook: @harleywylde

Author on Twitter: @HarleyW_Writer

Publisher on Twitter, Facebook, and Instagram: @changelingpress

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