Friday, May 31, 2024

The Dark Court Guest Post #GoddessFish

 

THE DARK COURT

Vyvyan Evans

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GENRE: Science Fiction

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BLURB:

A genre-blending dystopian, sci-fi mystery-thriller that will make you think about communication in a whole new way.

Five years after the Great Language Outage, lang-laws have been repealed, but world affairs have only gotten worse. The new automation agenda has resulted in a social caste system based on IQ. Manual employment is a thing of the past, and the lowest soc-ed class, the Unskills, are forced into permanent unemployment.

In a world on the brink of civil war, a deadly insomnia pandemic threatens to kill billions. Lilith King, Interpol’s most celebrated detective, is assigned to the case.

Together with a sleep specialist, Dr. Kace Westwood, Lilith must figure out who or what is behind this new threat. Could the pandemic be the result of the upskilling vagus chips being offered to the lowest soc-ed class? Or are language chips being hacked? And what of the viral conspiracy theories by the mysterious Dark Court, sweeping the globe? Lilith must work every possible angle, and quickly: she is running out of time!

While attempting to stop a vast conspiracy on an intergalactic scale, Lilith also faces shocking revelations about her origin, coming to terms with her own destiny.

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Excerpt 

But just then, twenty meters in front of me, a small group of Dark Court cultists emerged, out from a side corridor. I grimaced—this only meant trouble. There were four of them, this time with cappa hoods covering their heads, obscuring their faces from sec-cam and LS orb identification by NYPD droids. They were no doubt trying to imitate their beloved, so-called adjudicators, the self-appointed, anonymous leaders of this vile cult of violence and misinformation. The cultists were dressed in black from head to toe, including leather pants and tunics. They even wore black, tactical Kevlar gloves.

The cultists spotted me. “Let’s get her, boys,” said one voice. Then I heard raucous laughter.

They moved toward me, cutting off my route to the UN employee East River entrance. And as they approached, they pulled out neural shock sticks, sheathed in cases worn around their belts. Of course, just my luck. The long, thin devices were illegal, and for good reason. If applied for more than a few seconds, they could result in permanent brain damage or even death. I steeled myself—this was the only way through.

As I neared, the group appeared surprised I was still heading toward them—not the response they expected. I would never run away again, not since that night in the Black Forest, twenty years ago. Sure, I had been through Interpol’s basic combat training, back in the day. For what that was worth. But since the Black Forest, I had taken self-defense training to insane levels, obsessive as always. You could say I had elevated it to the status of a dark art.

Guest Post

Background to Unilanguage: They who control language control everything

The Dark Court is book #2 in the Songs of the Sage science fiction book series. The books predict a near-future when language is no longer learned, but streamed to neural implants in people’s head, streamed from internet in space. The book explores the dystopian consequences of this.

In a future era of language-as-commodity, it is inevitable that whether a language lives or dies would be based on economics. In other words, those languages with little demand on streaming services would cease to exist.

As language would be stored entirely on servers, language would, in effect, be controlled by the big tech companies that lease it back to human populations that have undergone language chipping.

The Songs of the Sage books imagine a system where language is controlled by a body based in California, called Unilanguage. This is modelled on the very system in place for vetting new emojis, which are controlled and approved by Unicode (also based in California, controlled by just a few of the world’s leading tech firms).

One consequence would be that as languages fall out of demand, there would be little incentive for big tech firms to continue to store them, tying up valuable server space. And as populations undergo the process of having language chips implanted in their brains, native speakers would cease to exist. Hence, lesser-used languages would simply die out—a consequence of lack of demand, which is simple economics at work. If there is no demand, it doesn’t pay. Hence, providers stop offering it.

The books imagine a future in which there are just 250 surviving languages (compared to around 7,000 today).

National governments would, inevitably, try to preserve cultural unity, while ensuring subscriptions are affordable for the poorest citizens. Hence, the Songs of the Sage books posit a situation in which (most) states require all public security systems (referred to as VirDas—short for Virtual Digital Assistants) to run on a single state language. For context, VirDas are the mechanisms for processing voice commands, and hence the main security portals for accessing everything from grocery stores to offices, from vehicles to homes.

As an example, the national state language in France, on which all public VirDas would run, would be French. In the US, it would likely be English. In practice, this would mean that in France, say, it would be sufficient to only need to pay for a single language streaming package. And to gain entry to a supermarket, for instance, the language user would identify at the store entrance, using voice commands, by speaking into the VirDa. Incidentally, this technology would also mean that stores and supermarkets are fully automated (no need for human clerks or cashiers). Label sensor fusion tech, already being trialled, would mean that a shopper’s groceries can be located with each individual shopper, who would use their voice command authorization to pay for their purchase at self-checkout, prior to being “allowed” to leave the store.

Of course, there are multiple consequences of all this for language. Regional accents and dialects, being non-standard, would require more expensive streaming subscriptions—this entails that regional accents would become status symbols. The working classes would be, in effect, priced out of their own local language varieties.

The range and variety of human language would be erased at a stroke. This, self-evidently, has implications for identity, ethnicity, and so on. It also has consequences for who controls language, and how new words are coined, or come to fall out of use. These would become decisions for big tech and government, not individual speakers of languages.

Given all this, The Dark Court, along with the other books in the series, serve as a warning: when we lose language we all lose.



AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Dr. Vyvyan Evans is a native of Chester, England. He holds a PhD in linguistics from Georgetown University, Washington, D.C., and is a Professor of Linguistics. He has published numerous acclaimed popular science and technical books on language and linguistics. His popular science essays and articles have appeared in numerous venues including 'The Guardian', 'Psychology Today', 'New York Post', 'New Scientist', 'Newsweek' and 'The New Republic'. His award-winning writing focuses, in one way or another, on the nature of language and mind, the impact of technology on language, and the future of communication. His science fiction work explores the status of language and digital communication technology as potential weapons of mass destruction.

Book website (including ‘Buy’ links): http://www.songs-of-the-sage.com

Author website: https://www.vyvevans.net/

Youtube channel: https://www.youtube.com/@vyvevans

Twitter: https://twitter.com/VyvEvans

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Vyvyan.Evans.Author

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/nephilim_publishing/

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GIVEAWAY INFORMATION and RAFFLECOPTER CODE

Vyvyan Evans will award a randomly drawn winner paperback copies of both book 1 and book 2 of the series 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Kicks #GayBookPromotions

NEW RELEASE

Book Title: Kicks (Pleasure Seekers, Book 2)

Author and Publisher: Kristian Parker

Cover Artist: Kelly Martin

Release Date:  May 15,  2024

Genre:  Contemporary M/M Romance

Tropes: Friends with benefits to lovers, workplace romance

Themes: Resolving family issues. 

Trigger warning – deals with historical suicide attempt

Heat Rating:  4 flames

Length: 50 040 words/ 214 pages

It is book two in the Pleasure Seekers series and does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |   Amazon UK

Blurb

Eddie Channing has never bothered with a career. Yet somehow he’s become the best salesman at Pleasure Seekers. 

When his boss makes a shock announcement, Eddie isn’t just fighting for his job—his whole life as he knows it is at stake. 

Enter Billy Webster. A Brighton shop owner still grieving the loss of his mother as well as raising his teenage sister, he could hold the answers to all of Eddie’s problems…if Eddie can screw a good chunk of commission out of him. But Eddie, who’s as chilled about his love life as he is about his professional one, is shaken to the core when he first sets eyes on Billy. Can he lie to him straight away, and keep the deception going if they become involved? 

And what will happen if the truth comes out, to Eddie, Billy and any relationship they’ve built?

Trigger warning – elements of grief for the loss of a mother (off page).

Excerpt 

The front doorbell sounded, snapping Billy to attention.

“He must be here,” he said.

“Or it’s a customer,” Harry replied.

“I admire your optimism. I’ll go.”

Billy strode out into the shop. A man had his back to him. He appeared to be inspecting a shell-covered jewellery box. Not one of Billy’s wisest choices.

“Can I help you?”

When the man turned around, Billy gasped. He hadn’t seen someone that handsome in a long time. With light brown skin and short dreadlocks that appeared to have been tinted by the sun, he glowed.

He was a contrast to Billy’s much darker tone and cropped hair. Fashion statements had never been high on Billy’s agenda. He took pride in his appearance whilst making minimal effort. Although when Crystal’s friends all became obsessed with giving each other facials at sleepovers, he did succumb to letting Crystal practice her technique on him.

The life of a girl dad proved to be a never-ending voyage of discovery.

“Mr Webster?” the exquisite specimen said.

“Um…yes.”

“Eddie Channing. From Pleasure Seekers. We have an appointment?”

“That’s right.”

“Sorry, Mr Channing,” Harry said as he pushed past Billy. “My brother appears to have let the heat get to him. I’m Harry and this is Billy.”

Eddie shook his hand. “That’s better. I’d get confused dealing with two Mr Websters.”

Billy got a hold of himself and forced his brain to focus. “My apologies, Mr…Eddie. I don’t know what came over me.”

This man intrigued Eddie. “Don’t worry about it. As long as I have the bragging rights. It’s not every day I make a handsome man lose his words. My flatmates will be amazed.”

Did he just call me handsome?

Billy refused to let his emotions take control. This was important. He wouldn’t fall for a salesman’s tactics.

He held his hand out. When Eddie took it, Billy tried his best to ignore the spark of electricity that fizzed through him.

“Would you like to come through?” Billy said.

“I’ll put the closed sign on,” Harry chipped in.

“No n—” Billy started.

Harry widened his eyes at him. “Probably for the best.”

Suddenly, Billy saw how wildly out of his depth he was. Harry seemed to be treating this like one of his fights. He was ducking and weaving all over the place. Billy had never been any good at games.

That was probably why they were about to go bust.

He led Eddie through. The close proximity making his heart beat a little faster. However, those few steps gave him the chance to get it together.

“Take a seat,” he said. “Can I get you a drink? It’s hot today.”

“No, I’m good,” Eddie said.

Billy took his usual seat at the little desk. He gestured for Eddie to take the armchair that Crystal usually sat in to do her homework.

Harry soon followed them and perched delicately on the remaining stool. He was far too big for it. Billy prayed to everything holy that it wouldn’t collapse under him.

Why didn’t I give him this seat? Fuck’s sake, calm down. It doesn’t matter.

SERIES BLURB

Pleasure Seekers is the online store for the nation’s naughty needs. It caters to all tastes from edible underwear to lube to things that are a little more niche.

Based in Brighton on the South Coast, Pleasure Seekers’ mission is to revolutionise Britain’s sex life. 

But what kind of person works in a company like this?

Meet Tyler, Eddie and Scott. Three men who are about to have the summer of their lives. 

Who says taking your work home with you is a bad thing?

Check out Book 1 here

About the Author  

I have written for as long as I could write. In fact, before, when I would dictate to my auntie. I love to read, and I love to create worlds and characters.

I live in the English countryside. When I’m not writing, I like to get out there and think through the next scenario I’m going to throw my characters into.

Inspiration can be found anywhere, on a train, in a restaurant or in an office. I am always in search of the next character to find love in one of my stories. In a world of apps and online dating, it is important to remember love can be found when you least expect it.

Author Links

Blog/Website  |   Facebook  |  Instagram  |   Newsletter Sign-up

Giveaway

Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win

your choice of ebook from Kristian's backlist (5 winners)

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions


Free Use Image from Open Clipart Vectors

Come back on June 28 for my review of all three books in the Pleasure Seekers Series! I'm currently reading Thrill. Just between us, I'm really enjoying it so far! There's plenty of sweet heat between the two lovers and lots of good, bawdy fun and joking around between friends. It's a feel-good story lovers of m/m romance will surely enjoy. If that sounds intriguing, save the date and check out the big reveal!


Through the Storm Book Blitz #rabtbooktours

 


Nonfiction / Journal / Cancer

 

A breast cancer journal. I really wanted the journal to be full of life and colourful. The illustrations made it come to life, I find them so inspiring and I hope you do as well!

This book has been a genuine labor of love. It is full of purpose and hope. Everything you see is my vision come true. Cancer threatens everything you believed to be true, I had my chemo-port removed and flew to Atlanta later that day, on the flight back, I believe it was a 6AM flight, all I wanted to do was sleep for the 2 hour flight.  Instead, this idea for a bookmark started forming in my head. I figured lots of people read in waiting rooms and chemo suites etc., so it made sense to create bookmarks with little quips to lift the spirit during these waits. Well, the ideas were flowing so fast that I couldn’t write fast enough and I had no paper, so I wrote on the plane barf bag (I still have it). It became apparent I had a lot more to say than a bookmark could hold. I still plan to make bookmarks some day soon.

I have included prompts for questions to ask. Symptom trackers to report to providers. Daily prompts to do something intentionally kind and uplifting in small bites because some days are really tough and it becomes difficult to remember the amazing person you were prior to a breast cancer diagnosis and treatment. I am truly proud of it. There is a prayer/meditation script written by one of my dearest friends who chose words that can resonate with anyone regardless of faith or the absence thereof and in any tough life situation. There is a feature to track daily water intake and so much more.

 

#breastcancersurvivor🎀 #breastcancerbaddie #breastcancer

 

About the Author

Contact Links

Website

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RABT Book Tours & PR

Thursday, May 30, 2024

Murder At the College Blurb Blitz #GoddessFish

 


MURDER AT THE COLLEGE

P.H. Turner

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GENRE: Mystery

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BLURB:

A detective has a smooth-talking heartbreaker for a client, but there’s a problem.

Quinn has scorch marks from her last relationship and plenty of chemistry with Ben, but he could have killed his twin brother. He demands to work the case with her, claiming it’s his life on the line.

A partner is the last thing Quinn wants. What she wants is to prove him innocent. But she’s finding plenty of evidence he isn’t.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Excerpt 

Quinn knew Ben would be his usual charming and charismatic self, but she wasn’t falling for it tonight. There was no chance of that tonight, not after what she’d learned.

When she entered the bar’s back door, she heard the band belting out tunes and the crowd singing along. Ben poked his head out of his office. “There you are. Thought I heard the back door close.” He smiled, and she pushed aside the familiar warm tug she felt when she saw him.

When Ben stood to the side for her to enter his office, Quinn felt the heat from his hand on the small of her back and the strong, almost magnetic attraction to Ben. It was as though the universe was pulling her to him.

Have a seat.” Instead of sitting behind his desk, he sat next to her. She could see the concern on his face. “Would you like a drink?”

No, thank you.” Even to her, her voice sounded cold.

Quinn, whatever you’ve come to say, just tell me. We can handle it.”

You lied to me and your lawyer. A witness saw you coming out of the Green Room Sunday night. She picked your picture out of a lineup.”

Ben lowered his head and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay, I was there. I’m sorry. I was worried when I couldn’t find Paul, and he wasn’t answering his phone. I wish I hadn’t seen him lying like that on the sofa. I’d sat there so often with him, and then to see him dead like that.”

Quinn saw Ben’s grief, and she felt a surge of hope. The police had held back the fact that Paul’s body was found on the sofa to winnow out the crazies who called in and copped to every crime. Ben couldn’t have known unless he was there. “When were you there?”

Around eleven.” He raised his head, and his gray eyes were wet with tears. “I’m sorry I lied to you. He pulled himself upright and said, “I didn’t kill my brother.”

Tell me everything about that night,” Quinn asked.



AUTHOR Bio and Links:

P.H. Turner (Pat) writes contemporary mysteries spiked with long-held grudges, secrets, and murder. With roots in a Texas farm homesteaded in the 1850s, she calls Austin home. When she's not writing, she's cooking for family, or taking care of a pair of hairy mutts, or in her garden coaxing roses to bloom in the Texas heat.

Pat is a member of Mystery Writers of America, Sisters in Crime, and Romance Writers of America.

Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/stores/P.H.-Turner/author/B00NZ8RW0K

Website: https://www.phturner.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/P.H.TurnerAuthor

Twitter: https://twitter.com/pht97

Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/pathturner/

Amazon Buy Link: https://www.amazon.com/Murder-at-College-P-H-Turner-ebook/dp/B0CW1MQLWG

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GIVEAWAY INFORMATION and RAFFLECOPTER CODE

P.H. Turner will award a $20 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner via Rafflecopter.


a Rafflecopter giveaway

The Ocean Hugs Hard Cover Reveal #rabtbooktours

 


Horror/Mystery

Date Published: 06-24-2024

Publisher: Shadow Spark Publishing


 

Surfside City, New Jersey. 1966. Cub reporter Harman Bass is cutting his teeth in the fast world of local journalism and getting out-scooped by the competition. Facetious, cocky, and always quoting Nietzsche, Harman isn’t making any friends both in and out of the newsroom.

All that changes when the daughter of a prominent family is found dead on the beach, handing Harman the juiciest news story of the year. But she wasn’t any old beauty pageant queen; she was his high school girlfriend. Harman’s dogged reporting into the young woman’s death reveals pushback from the authorities and pulls the newshound into the resort’s darkest corners.

After one of his sources is murdered, the routine story becomes dangerous and personal. Something watches Harman from the shadows, something ancient and hungry, worshipped by powerful men who kill to keep their secrets. Harman’s job and life are soon threatened, and the once brash reporter must battle his boss, rival journalists, and his own sanity before filing what could be his last story.

THE OCEAN HUGS HARD is a mystery with the salty whiff of the ocean, a tinge of nostalgia, and a dollop of mind-shattering eldritch horror.


About the Author

ERIC AVEDISSIAN is an adjunct professor and speculative fiction author. His published work includes the novels Accursed Son, Mr. Penny-Farthing, Midnight at Bat Hollow, and the role-playing game Ravaged Earth. His short stories appear in various anthologies, including Across the Universe, Great Wars, and Rituals & Grimoires. Avedissian received a 2024 Fellowship in Prose from the New Jersey State Council on the Arts. He lives in New Jersey with his wife and a ridiculous number of books. Find him online at www.ericavedissian.com if you dare.

 

Contact Links

Website

Twitter: @angryreporter

Instagram: @ericavedissian



RABT Book Tours & PR

Wednesday, May 29, 2024

Kit-Kat Preorder Blitz #rabtbooktours

 

(Maw of Mayhem MC)


Paranormal, Motorcycle Club Romance

Date Published: May 31, 2024


 

Grimdarke James’ problems have gone from bad to worse. Ousted from his MC and on the run, all he wants is to keep Kit safe while he sets things right. But calling in a favor drops more than trouble into his lap.

As he tries to salvage what’s left of the Maw of Mayhem, forces close in on them and tensions rise. New allies are found and old loyalties are put to the test. So is Grim’s relationship with Kit when someone from his past tries to come between them.

Kit doesn’t share and the threat to her position as Grim’s mate raises her hackles. With her heat triggered, she’s running on instinct and battle lines are drawn. Can Grim win back his MC, and prove he’s the man for her, or will he lose it all?


 

 

EXCERPT


Grim stalked out of the break room, riffling his hair. How the fuck had everything gone to shit so fast? He blew the messy locks from his face and frowned, glancing around the garage --

And did a double take at the trio of bikes by the bay door. Brick and Wrench’s hogs, and Grim’s Bobber. How had that made it out of the city? Holy -- He stumbled over to them, not quite believing his bike was really there. One of the crew must’ve ridden it out of the garage before the club blew, which meant Stitch had left his down there.

Christ, he’d abandoned his own bike to snag the Bobber? A lump gummed up Grim’s throat. You only did that kind of shit for your alpha.

He swallowed, gritting his teeth and hating himself. How much of this clusterfuck could he have avoided if he’d just sucked it the fuck up and owned the position after Clay’s murder?

Guess he’d never know.

Grim blinked, his eyes hot. Fingers trailing down the leather seat. Listening to the click and ping of the engine cooling. Avoiding the rest of the crew packing up. He frowned, guilt eating at him, his stomach a fucking mess. Staring at the bathroom door, willing it to open.

For Kit to come out on two legs.

Come on, baby… Hands down, she was his priority, but Jesus fuck, the rest of the crew depended on him, too, and they all needed to get gone. Clay’s refusal to take a mate abruptly made more sense than Grim wanted it to. Some part of that equation was gonna get fucked, and he’d be damned if it was gonna be Kit unless she was squarely on his dick.

Kat say anything else to you? he asked his cat.

-- no. fighting with Kit --

Grim grunted, the angst of having to choose between his mate and his club landing a gut punch of shame. Christ, he knew what that was like. Being at odds with your beast. The terror of feeling trapped inside yourself, of sinking down so fucking deep you didn’t know if you could come back.

[CHAGRIN]

-- different --

Same, Grim snapped. Shit was close enough, less the cuffs. He rubbed at the scars on his wrists, the lines of ink blurred and broken. The memory of the snick of silver setting his teeth on edge. That creeping, seeping burn infecting his veins with its poison.

He wiped the sweat from his brow. Yeah, he knew how it felt, and granted, he wasn’t keeping her there, but he’d sent Kit on that downward spiral by pushing her to change. Jesus, he was a piece of shit. A sad laugh slid from his lips.

But fuck, that’s what everyone thought anyway, wasn’t it? The media, the rest of Mayhem… Mama Roe sure as hell did, and he was about to go kiss her fucking --

Grim’s breath caught as the bathroom door swung open and Kit strode out, looking classy as fuck and like the last person he should be with. Triss dropped the crap she was packing into the cage’s trunk and ran over to hug her.

Christ, he wanted to do the same… but, damn. Grim wet his lips. Kit wasn’t… Damn. She was wearing that soft sweater he’d snagged from the vamp queen’s trophy closet. Shit was fucking sinful the way it hung off her shoulders and clung to her tits. The jeans she’d been so crazy about did the same to her hips, a sliver of her flat stomach flashing as she raised her arms to hug the girl back. And when Triss skipped away, and Kit turned toward the cages?

Woman was a fucking goddess.

Grim bit back a groan at the way her long black hair dusted her ass as she bent to put her bag in the trunk. She looked like a million fucking bucks, which was easily nine hundred ninety-nine thousand and change above his pay grade.

-- ours --

The pang in Grim’s chest echoed the truth of that statement. Maybe he didn’t deserve her now, but he’d fucking bust his ass until he did. If she still wants us. His throat bobbed at the possibility she wouldn’t after what he’d done to her.

-- asked to shift --

Yeah, but the idea of being a shifter versus the reality of it were two very different things, and Grim’d only known Kit for a hot fucking minute. When they’d met, she’d been so damned adamant she didn’t want to change.

-- Reaper decided for her --

Grim’s knuckles whitened. And he’s gonna die for it. Darke chuffed in agreement.

A growl welled up in Grim’s throat, his eyes narrowing.

Asorav had ended his call and wrapped his hand around Kit’s arm, pulling her off to the side. He spoke to her adamantly in hushed tones in the next bay.

-- listen? --

Yeah. Grim stepped back into the shadows, his hearing sharpening.

Kit was smiling up at the vamp like he’d caught her at something. She was trying to play it off as he was talking. “…understand the temptation to eavesdrop on one’s elders, but strongly suggest you resist the urge.” Asorav looped her arm through his, and a muscle in Grim’s jaw twitched at the asshole’s familiarity with her.

-- known her longer --

Don’t remind me, Grim muttered. He still couldn’t believe Kit had been the Darkling’s dog walker.

“There are those that do not take kindly to such invasions of privacy,” the vamp scolded.

Kit’s eyes widened, her pupils waffling --

Grim did a double take. Shit, did I really see that? Aside from the mirror, he’d never seen anyone else’s flip between theirs and their beast’s.

-- did. Kat’s scared. Won’t talk --

He bit back a growl. Was that fucking right?

“Which is why you’re only getting a warning.” The vamp patted her hand like some kind of benevolent fucking uncle. Grim’s lip curled, knowing that grift all too well. He was gonna beat the shit outta --

“Vampires really can read minds?” Kit squeaked. “I thought --”

Wait, what? Grim froze.

“Yes and no,” Asorav said. “Your compatriots’ thoughts are closed to me, but it seems you and I share an affinity.” The asshole chuckled. “Yes, it surprised me as well. However, after Cecelia --”

“I want to know what you meant when you said she was elsewhere.”

Asorav sighed, and Grim had to smirk at Kit’s indignation over the MIA Pomeranian. “I don’t totally understand it,” the vamp said, “but I believe she’s trapped somewhere between. It’s… the place one goes to get from here to there. I’m afraid I can’t explain it any better than that. She wasn’t strong enough to anchor my form at this end, and when I pulled, she was sucked in.”

Well, that sounded like total bullshit, but Grim supposed the prick couldn’t admit to killing the thing. In either case, Kit sounded like she bought it.

“Because she was your heart. Aryanna told me you were a day-walker.”

“Did she now.”

Grim scratched his stubble, wondering how much of an issue that was gonna be. Vampires were enough of a pain in the ass at night. One lurking around 24/7 didn’t exactly give him the warm fuzzies, but then again, this conversation didn’t either.

“… mentioned you couldn’t be, um, de-animated, without your heart.” Kit said, rubbing her arms like she was cold. “Don’t worry, she’s not around anymore to note it in the queen’s memoir.”

Asorav laughed, and Grim wanted to smash his fist through the vamp’s fangs. “How delightful. I never could understand how Aryanna abided that vitriolic shrew. I’m only sorry I wasn’t there to see it, but suppose that’s neither here nor there, and you, my dear, most certainly are. She told you, then, of my Maker’s triumph?”

Kit nodded like she was humoring him. Grim rolled his eyes. Fucking vamps had sticks shoved up their asses almost as far as the witches. Christ, they were pretentious fucks.

“It’s a metaphor, you know,” Asorav said. “She wasn’t my heart; she had my heart. The spell transformed the physical organ and created a bridge, tying our life forces to those we held dearest. It was genius, really. Love is such a fickle thing, and given a vampire’s lifespan, in most cases, transfers quite organically before the object of our affection dies… or is lost, in this case.”

He pulled a wide, platinum bracelet from his pocket, studded with what Grim was positive were diamonds, and closed Kit’s fingers around it. The fuck? “And it seems once again, my heart has been captured by another. I assure you, I am aware this is most inconvenient, but, as I said, the heart wants what the heart wants, now, doesn’t it?”

Grim bared his teeth, knuckles white as he clenched his fists. Had that motherfucker just given Kit a fucking king’s ransom in jewelry and told her he loved her?

-- no, his heart --

I don’t give a fuck, she’s MINE.

 

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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RABT Book Tours & PR

Tuesday, May 28, 2024

Red Kingdom Review #rabtbooktours

 

 

Fairy Tale Retellings, Book Two (standalone)


Historical Romance (Medieval)

Date Published: 04-10-2024

 

 

Little Red Riding Hood reimagined with a dark and realistic twist.

Princess Blanchette’s world shatters when the Black Wolf tears apart her castle and everything she holds dear. All she clings to is the vow she made to her grandmother on her deathbed.

Hailed as the people’s champion, Sir Rowan Dietrich liberates the capital in a quest for vengeance. He takes Winslowe Castle with an army at his back and his wolf, Smoke, at his side.

United by a shared cause and powerful attraction, Rowan and Blanchette embark on a journey of self-discovery and redemption—a path filled with loss, transformation, and ultimately, the healing power of love.

Can Norland’s resplendent princess, with her captivating beauty and spirit, tame the fabled Black Wolf?

Inspired by the fairy tale Little Red Riding Hood, Red Kingdom is a passionate historical romance about the enduring quest for love and the longing for a world at harmony.

*Red Kingdom is a standalone installment in a series of reimagined classic fairy tales. Due to adult content and themes, it is not intended for readers under the age of 18. 

What you can expect from Red Kingdom... 

Dark, Medieval Setting

Enemies to Lovers

Slow Burn

Broken Alpha Hero

Strong Heroine

Wolf Companion

He Falls First

Redemption

Warring Kingdoms


Blanchette spots the Black Wolf during the siege


Death at her feet. Death in her home. Death in the air.

Death screamed in every corner of her mind.

Then she saw him.

Rowan Dietrich, the fabled Black Wolf of Norland, strode through her castle like a waking nightmare. His armor was crudely made, black as the surrounding night, the helm’s dark metal twisted into the shape of a wolf’s snarling head. But the most striking thing about him was his height. He towered above the other fighters and battled with a chilling methodicalness. How he moved and fought frightened Blanchette the greatest.

He looked collected. Even mildly amused. As if this were nothing more than a game. Blood soaked his sword as the blade whirled, whipped, slashed, and claimed lives in a macabre dance of death. And that wolf clung to his heels, its muzzle wet with blood, snarling and leaping at any man who dared come close to its master.

Monster. Demons.

The Black Wolf of Norland had always had a mist of legend around him. She remembered the stories her mother and governess had often whispered after the feasts and in the dark of the night.

To me,” the Black Wolf called to a soldier a few yards away, his deep voice effortlessly carrying above the tumult. He didn’t need to yell, not even over the mayhem. The force of his tone was enough.

One of her father’s guards raised his blade, but too slowly. Rowan Dietrich’s longsword cut his head off, then came flashing back in a terrible two-handed slash that took another soldier in the leg.

With quivering anger, she realized that this man—this wolf, this beast—was the reason the sky was falling on her family. She clutched the dagger, wishing she could stand a chance against him. How good and right it would feel to plunge the blade deep into his heart and avenge what would likely be the end of her family’s dynasty.

Of course, she’d never survive him or his demon wolf. And if she was ever to avenge her family, if she was to keep her promise, survival meant everything. 



Free use image from Open Clipart Vectors

Ornery Owl's Review

Rating: Four out of Five Stars

This well-written dark fantasy retells the well-known tale of Red Riding Hood. However, in this case, Red Riding Hood isn't a little girl wearing a red hood taking a picnic basket to her grandmother's house. She is a princess given a red cloak by her grandmother during a siege on her family's castle. Her grandmother is murdered shortly thereafter by a servant whom Princess Blanchette had previously trusted implicitly. 

This book is definitely not appropriate for young or more sensitive readers. It includes violent battle scenes, the slaying of helpless children and elderly victims, and the sexual assault of females unfortunate enough to be captured by the invaders and not killed outright. All of these circumstances were very real possibilities during a seizure of territory. The scenes were not written in an exploitative or gratuitous fashion. However, they can make for disturbing reading, so proceed with caution.

I appreciated Blanchette's determination and resourcefulness. I'm not a great fan of stories where the heroine falls for her captor, especially when he leads a brutal assault leading to the deaths and/or sexual assaults of innocent civilians. Roland is a more nuanced character than I initially anticipated. If the story were depicted in a less bloody fashion, it would have been easier for me to get on board with the romantic relationship between himself and Blanchette.

This story is not the right choice for those who prefer a dreamier and less bloody fantasy writing style. It's the perfect choice for readers who appreciate realistic depictions of events inspired by history, even those events that aren't pleasant to think about.

About the Author

I live in Sunny California with my dashing husband, who inspires my romance novels every day!

Writing has always been an integral part of my identity. Before I physically learned how to write, I'd narrate stories to my mom, and she'd record them for me.

I graduated from Chapman’s film school, where I often received the feedback on my scripts, “Your stories and characters are great, but this reads like a novel!” That’s when I realized my true calling.

In my free time, I frequent reptile expos, lift double my body’s weight, and indulge in dinosaur trivia.

I'm passionate about writing stories that explore what it means to be human and to be loved. My books focus on hope, courage, and redemption in the face of adversity.

 

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