Showing posts with label contemporary fantasy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label contemporary fantasy. Show all posts

Saturday, May 31, 2025

Deviously Delicious Book Blitz #rabtbooktours

 

Jills of All Trades, Book One


Mystery, Contemporary Fantasy

Date Published: May 31, 2025

 

 

On the Northern California coast, beyond the mists of the ancient redwoods, there’s a quiet town like any other. Sueños del Mar has bakeries, repair shops, and friendly neighbors looking out for one another.

Or so it would seem.

This is a deviously delicious lie.

Every resident of Sueños del Mar has a skeleton in the closet. Even polar opposite best friends, roommates, and business partners Allison and Dorseigh.

Dorseigh McHale is a simple girl next door, seeking to earn a living wage and let go of her need to please everyone.

Allison Liddle seeks to leave her past behind and travel the world in style.

Their simple plans are thwarted when an unconscious boy ends up in their driveway.

The key to unlocking the secrets of the people and the town itself surfaces once kids start to go missing. Accused of the kidnapping, The Jills of all Trades, Allison and Dorseigh must add another skill to their resume: Amateur detectives.

With the help of friends, and some red herrings along the way, the Jills discover the missing children aren’t the only thing wrong with the town of Sueños del Mar.


About T.J. Descahmps

T.J. Deschamps is a multi-genre author who lives in the Pacific Northwest with her three kids, three cats, and one unbothered tortoise. In her spare time, she can be found either curled up with a book and cats by a fire or out in the forests and lakes hiking or kayaking.


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About Beth Whiteman

Beth Whiteman is a multi-genre author who lives in the Midwest with her husband, three children, dog, and cats. In her spare time, she is a champion kid chauffeur, crocheter, crafter, and jewelry designer.


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Monday, January 1, 2024

Beware of a Cursed Forest Week Blitz #rabtbooktours

 

Misty Falls, Book 3

 

Contemporary Fantasy Fiction

Date Published: 09-19-2023

 

 

How long can a magic ring last?

Long enough to get Violet through the worst, then send her through it again. When her new husband and his friends go grave robbing, they dig up a legend. They recover a thousand-year-old ring with a curse. When she finds it she uses it to her advantage like the last ring she owned, and her husband confesses to her how he obtained it. The magic flees from the ring after killing the people it sees deserving, but when it attacks her, Violet knows what she must do. It’s go back to grandma’s, then Misty Falls.

When she goes back her curiosity gets the best of her and she goes with a friend to investigate a murder in the haunted forest. Soon the forest is haunting her, and she is met with the killer, who wants more young blood. Though born on Friday the 13th, she believes in herself. Is she able to escape a streak of bad luck?

Excerpt

Curtis and his friends split up into three motel rooms ten minutes away from the cemetery they wanted to rob. They couldn’t bring them on the plane, so they had to go to a local store and get a shovel for each of them. The plan was to rob Jessie’s grave first and look for the famous ring that was fashioned in hell. “I want to see this ring,” one of them said. “I hope it doesn’t say made in hell or I will run.” They snickered at his joke except for Curtis. All their rooms were right next to each other. After hitting Jessie’s grave that night they would look through other graves and the mausoleum afterwards because there was no digging with those, then they’d go for the bigger graves, because the families may have had more money to pay for them.

After a quick dinner it was darkening. “Can we go now?” Curtis asked.

“It’s supposed to be late, but we will all take the rental car and be there in about thirty minutes. It’s getting darker at this point. I don’t think anyone will see us.”

“Have you done this before?” Curtis asked.

“No, I’ve stolen but not from a grave and this will probably be the only time.” By the time everyone was in the car it was darker, and they left. They had shovels and gardening tools in the back.

A red glow of light began to come from over the horizon. “I thought the sunset was over,” one of them in a black leathery jacket said.

“It was,” said the dark blond who appeared to be the leader. He had the most experience stealing and did not spend one day in jail for anything.

As they got out the red seemed to get bigger. After opening the trunk, they then got out shovels and began looking for the one grave with the ring. There was a large, rounded tombstone straight ahead with some fresh flowers there half dead. The leader went for that one and it read Jessie the name they were looking for. He had died almost ten years ago and there was a card against the stone. It was about how someone missed him so much and how she loved him but never told him enough and it was signed Tess. It was from his girlfriend. The leader left it open and put it back. His friends began to dig but Curtis wandered around looking for graves to start digging. “Go to the mausoleum,” the leader told him, and Curtis went that way glad Violet had no idea where he was.

As the guys dug Curtis tried opening crypts with the shovel but they didn’t come open. When he found an old one with a big crack he decided to try that one. This person had died in the 1920’s. He hit it hard a few times with the shovel and the right side fell off. Sliding the coffin out and peeking in he could not see well but there wasn’t anything buried with him of value. He put it back and tried to find another one. He kept looking for older graves because if they were buried with anything old it could be valuable.

Curtis stepped out of the crypts and saw that most of the sky had turned red accept a circle of black in the middle. They all stared at it. “What makes the sky like that?” One of them asked. No one responded.

“Guys I don’t like this,” Curtis said.

“We are almost there,” the leader said, and he made deep holes with his shovel. “Go look for crypts to steal from.” Just then he smacked into the coffin with his shovel. They dug it out and opened it. Curtis came to see. “There he is.” Exactly, Here lies Jessie just like the tombstone said. Curtis glanced up and the whole sky was red. It seemed like an omen to him but there were still pretty twinkling stars shining through. The leader pulled the ring of his finger. Examining it the design looked like hell fire and he check on the inside. It said made in Hades. He wanted to throw it but pawning it would be a better idea. He put the ring in his pocket, and they began reburying Jessie.

They kept looking around the graveyard for ghosts and zombies coming to get them for revenge, but they didn’t. If anything, Jessie would have been glad the ring was gone and being the good person that he wouldn’t hurt anyone. They finished covering the grave. “Don’t worry. We’ll pawn it as fast as we can,” he told Curtis.

“If and when we find a pawn shop,” one of them said. Curtis was the only one uneasy and they couldn’t drive away fast enough. He would never do this again and was sorry he broke the man’s crypt marble.

The sky had stayed red for the rest of the night. When morning came it seemed like a dream but they needed to find food and a pawn shop. There were still days left in their stay in Michigan to do as they wished after finding what they needed.

After Curtis called Violet the leader wanted to tell them his decision. “I easily found a pawn shop in the phone book, but it’s not close. So, I have decided we have more to steal, and we can pawn that before we go back to Canada where we won’t get caught. Is that ok?” he asked Curtis.

“That’s fine. It’s only a ring and I’m not even staying with it,” he responded.

“Yes, and it must be worth so much. We can split it just tell your little lady back home your business was doing well.” Curtis nodded in agreement. They spent the day looking for places to rob and eat.

While they ate Chinese food in a motel room the leader made his announcement. “We will rob an old mansion. It’s old but they look like they have money. Tomorrow me and Anthony will go and see if there’s an easy way in and what they leave open or unlocked.” All they could do was nod. “Then we’ll come back when they’re gone and get you Sawyer. Curtis we need someone to drive the car. You can get out, but you need to be ready to drive. Hopefully these people are going on summer vacation. How’s that sound?” he asked Curtis.

“Sounds fine. If we go in through the backyard it’s harder for people to see what we are doing,” he suggested.

“Good idea,” the leader Tristan said. He turned on the TV while they had a beer and relaxed. “It’s funny how rich people like to come out here thinking that it’s nice and peaceful and then get robbed.”

 

About the Author

Martha has studied writing with Writer's Digest and has an associate’s degree in Social Services. She has also written poems and songs and even studied screen writing and horror. She still writes and likes getting writing prompts. Her favorite author is VC Andrews. If you purchase and read Martha's books a review on this web site will be greatly appreciated. She can also be found at www.marthawickham.com.

 

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Twitter: @MarthaWickham

 

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Sunday, October 29, 2023

Fugitive New Release #IndiGo

Title:  Fugitive

Series: The Steele Pack, Book Two

Author: GiGi DeGraham

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 10/24/2023

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 92500

Genre: Paranormal, contemporary, paranormal, magic/magic users, romance, gay, shifters, genderqueer/genderfluid, asexual, interracial, action/adventure, dark, suspense, tribal politics/spiritual beliefs, off-grid living/isolation, subsistence/hunting, soulmates, rivals to lovers, second chance, graphic violence/tribal warfare, mysterious wolves, soulmates, cross-dressing

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Description

Ryan is stubborn, he always has been. Patience has never been Thomas’s best trait. It’s been nine lonely years. Ryan thought Thomas was dead. Some secrets can’t be told. There are rules and laws that can’t be broken and often unreasonable Gods enforcing them. It’s going to be an uphill climb to fight for Ryan’s forgiveness. All Thomas wants is to spend the rest of his life with his soulmate (even if he is a fugitive), for them to have the picture-perfect life they always dreamed of together. They’ve finally got their chance to have it all, but…

The Bellum Pack is coming, and that can only mean one thing.

Thomas doesn’t have time to plan a war, win back his soulmate, and worry about his best friend, Penn, and whatever he’s got going on with the worst Pillar of all. How does the sweetest guy fall for their most feared God?

Thomas has to figure out how to keep Ryan safe and protect his entire pack from the encroaching war-hungry Wolves. As if that weren’t enough, having Tristan Steele, a human, as his Alpha might be what pushes Thomas over the edge, not to mention keeping Penn’s heart from getting broken. And somehow, he has to manage it all without burning down their world.

Excerpt

Fugitive
GiGi DeGraham © 2023
All Rights Reserved

His eyes were fixed on the classic red and gleaming chrome Peterbilt emblem in the center of the hood. That oval was all he could see as 80,000 pounds of semitruck and trailer barreled out of control across the median towards them. An unharnessed scream ripped from Thomas as he yanked furiously on the steel handcuffs and chains bolting him to the van floor.

Seconds—he only had seconds.

Time stalled as Death lifted its fist to pound on the front door.

“Oh my God,” the driver yelled and jerked the wheel of the transport van hard to the right. The collective fear was as abrupt as the jolt of the vehicle. Men screamed for their lives.

The unavoidable impact was a bomb exploding, in slow motion, frame-by-frame—a force as powerful as the fist of Muhammad Ali. The collision knocked all the air out of the world around Thomas, out of him. Oxygen ripped from him in a terrifying vacuum, creating a breathless panicking void, where all he heard was the internal lack of gasping in the eighth round. Sucking desperately for denied air, Thomas was Foreman when he finally went down. Glass flew through the interior, suspended, as bodies hurled into the side of the van.

The guard in the front passenger seat was instantly ejected. There and then gone. Blood from the dying driver, who sat at the point of impact, rained, blowing back through the cargo area as the passenger van careened to the right as if propelled by a hurricane. They left the roadway, momentarily airborne, and crashed hard before flipping through the woods, tires over hood. Once, twice, and again in a blur, with the impacts breaking out the remaining windows and slamming the unbelted but chained passengers against the walls, then the ceiling, and finally the floor.

And oh, God—the screaming.

It broke the unbreathing silence—that deafened ringing in his ears as Thomas’s head struck the left side metal window frame. The inmate behind him, unnaturally twisted and flipped over, landed between Thomas and the window. His seatmate, a big guy, tatted with a heavy hand, lay over him on his right side. He had to be at least 250 on the hoof. Hot blood spat rhythmically from an artery onto Thomas’s body. For a moment, the air smelled like old patina-greened plumbing pipes. Or the smell of sweaty palms after clutching pennies to throw at your buddy’s bike wheel. Copper and mechanical mixed.

Somehow, in the chaos of the accident, Thomas had been sandwiched between a back passenger and his seatmate, now dead after bleeding out in only hot, pumping seconds. Even the big guy bled out fast in what seemed like gallons. Neither had their seatbelts on. Thomas opened one eye, and it was a meaty crimson bath inside the Econoline.

Thomas sucked in a second, at last, ragged full breath. It burned and now tasted and smelled like machine smoke and hot metal. If a nightmare could have a scent, this was it. Thomas’s heart pounded; his nose stung as more fumes mixed together. It was hard to breathe—toxic, heavy, and overwhelming. Bits of glass tinkled and clinked around him as they dropped from the now open window frames, releasing from their rubber seals just as the tumble cycle ended.

With tremoring hands, he lifted his chains against their attachment. The floor bolts and hasp jingled and clanked—his manacled hands now freed from their installation. A broken tree branch had pierced the van’s steel floor. Thomas traced the path of the limb where it kabobbed through tatt-man and the back of their shared bench seat. His head pounded with pain, and blood covered his left eye as he tried to blink it away. Gore soaked Thomas, and he wasn’t sure if it was even his own. And something was on fire, searing in his left arm.

“Is anyone okay?” Thomas cried out.

The real panic set in when there was no response. Nothing. No one screamed anymore. For a moment, he heard a gurgle behind him, a wet exhale, and then nothing. Just that heavy dripping and another steady sound. The smoke thickened, and the engine ticked even louder. Like a timed device warning Thomas with its steady tick, tick…before the boom. The message was clear.

Thomas twisted, worked his hands back beneath the behemoth slumped over him, and frantically felt for the seatbelt latch at his right side. He’d been the only one they belted. The first one picked up and the only transport from juvie. A juvenile transport liability rule had just saved his life. Jesus Christ, he had to get out of here right now.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” Thomas yelled over his wet, fumbling fingers. His fine motor skills were forgotten until finally, the clasp released its deadly hold on the buckle.

Frantic, he worked to maneuver the belt off and then wiggled and slid his way out from under the impaled passenger. Thomas turned back to him to check for a pulse, but he was dead. Thomas didn’t have time to feel bad for him, but he still did. No one deserved to go out like that. He looked to the guy pretzeled half in and half out of the side window. His leg was gone from the knee down, his skin already ghostly white. His eyes were wide open, mouth frozen in a dying scream. The other three inmates were a fresh Jackson Pollock on white metal.

Thomas swallowed hard, trying to thrust down the emotions that wanted to well, and assessed himself, wiping his eye with his shoulder. He couldn’t see out of one but looked around wildly with the other. Everyone was dead, and Thomas screamed. He scared-shitless screamed. Thomas dumbly shook his seatmate with his cuffed hands, unwilling to be in this nightmare alone.

Something popped towards the front of the van, and there was a crack. A splitting of wood, and the van jerked forward in a hard punch. Thomas looked through the opening, where the windshield should have been, to where the van clung precariously at the edge of a drop-off. He was the front car fool approaching the high pause of a rollercoaster, only hearing the clicking countdown before the shit-your-pants plummet.

“Help!” Thomas tried to yell through the smoke.

Get out now, then run…from one of the voices inside his head. Thomas had heard this voice so many times before and didn’t question it now. He scrambled over the passenger hanging from the window, clinging to his body like a ladder, then slid over him and dropped to the ground. He looked around—frantic for his bag of personal property—his letters.

RUN!

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

GiGi DeGraham lives, plays, and learns in New Orleans. She is a proud southerner and enjoys fixing up old houses and writing. Most of her story and character ideas develop while sanding and painting. She loves to roller skate and has a favorite author-named cat called Irving, after Washington Irving. You’ll always find her with an audiobook in her ear and listening to everything narrated by Kirt Graves. 

 GiGi prefers the outdoors when the weather permits, going on rock and fossil hunts or visiting local rock shops. Otherwise, she’s clacking away at her keyboard until the wee hours. GiGi firmly believes downtime should be spent on a porch swing. GiGi is a life-long supporter of the LGBTQ+ community.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram

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One lucky winner will receive a $50.00 NineStar Press Gift Code! 


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Saturday, July 22, 2023

Of Wings and Shadows Book Blitz and Giveaway

 


Will they succeed against their competition, 

or will the dragons of the Wild Hunt be too wild to tame?

Of Wings and Shadows

Of Cinder and Bone #5.5

by Kyoko M.

Genre: Science Fiction, Contemporary Fantasy

In a modern-day world teeming with marauding dragons, there is only one solution: The Wild Hunt.

The United States government has decided to hold a tournament called The Wild Hunt to determine who will be responsible for the capture of wild dragons by the Knight Division. The four challengers Noah Wilson, Charlie Howard, Su Jin Han, and Beowulf have to catch five deadly dragons alive if they want to win the tournament and become the new Knight Division dragon hunters. Their journey will take them through the mountains of South Carolina, the seas of Key West, the caverns of Ruby Falls, the Redwood forest, and finally, the murky bayous of Louisiana. Will they succeed against their competition, or will the dragons of the Wild Hunt be too wild to tame?

Of Wings and Shadows is the sixth book in the Of Cinder and Bone series. It takes place in medias res of Book Five, Of Claws and Inferno. It follows Of Cinder and Bone, Of Blood and Ashes, Of Dawn and Embers, and Of Fury and Fangs.

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Once Noah reached the nearby hiking trail, he could tell the dragon was definitely present; he heard not a peep from the local wildlife, which had likely fallen silent so as not to draw attention to themselves. He slid the rifle around to his hands as he finished cresting the hill and then knelt, peering through the scope to get a good look at the creature.

The midnight dragon had climbed over the black iron fence and stretched out on the rock face on its side. The sunshine made it look like a long, eerie shadow or an oil spill. Its enormous wings were folded along its spiny back and he could see its tail tapping on the rock every so often. Its cerulean eyes were closed for the moment and its nostrils twitched occasionally. He couldn’t really determine if it was completely asleep or not, so he’d have to hope for the best.

The fence around the enclosure made it hard to get a good vantage point to make the shot without alerting the dragon to his presence. Their altitude also meant he’d have to contend with the wind since he was several yards out. He decided to stay within the nearby tree line in the hopes it would provide cover and lay on his belly, setting up the rifle’s tripod to help him steady the shot. For the next few minutes, he simply observed the dragon through the scope. As he did, he could hear something other than the wind whistling through the trees: a light chirping noise that he realized was indeed coming from the dragon. If he hadn’t been in an environment where the other animals had gone silent, he never would’ve noticed it was producing the sound, not the many birds around it.

A red-breasted nuthatch flitted down from a nearby tree and landed on the rock to catch a worm it spotted directly in front of the dragon. The dragon’s nostrils twitched, then its forked tongue flicked out once, twice. The bird picked up the worm and turned to fly away. The midnight dragon snapped it up in its jaws as fast as a striking cobra, swallowing the bird whole. Noah blew out a breath, wincing. “Poor little guy.”

The dragon then stood and stretched its wings, exposing the dark membrane in between the appendages. Noah exhaled, concentrated, and took the shot.

The syringe bounced off one of the rungs of the iron fence.

The midnight dragon heard the noise and turned its horned head, its brilliant blue eyes locking onto Noah immediately.

Ah, hell,” he muttered.

The dragon roared and spread its wings, leaping into the air and heading right for him.

Noah jumped to his feet, slung the rifle around his back, and booked it.

He ran into the thicket since the trees and shrubs would become obstacles for the gigantic creature, but he knew it had the advantage stalking him from above.

I’ve got good news and bad news,” Noah panted out. “The good news is I found the dragon. The bad news is I missed the shot and now it wants to tear a chunk outta my hide.”

Can you get to cover?” Yusuke asked.

Depends on what you consider cover.” A shadow swept over him and he ducked on instinct. The midnight dragon’s sharp talons missed him by mere inches as it attempted to swoop down and grab him. It twisted through the air and then landed on a sturdy branch, crouching there like a sinister gargoyle as he changed directions to continue evading it.

The flashlight’s gonna be your best bet,” Yusuke said. “If you can find a shady spot, use that to blind it.”

Roger that.” Noah heard the swish of the dragon’s wings overhead again and skidded over the crest of the next hill. He’d underestimated how steep it would be; it pitched him down at a sharp angle. He bounced off a couple of tree trunks before landing at the bottom in a sore heap, groaning as he pushed up onto his forearms. The suit had protected him, as did the helmet, but bruises were bruises and they hurt all the same.

Noah heaved onto his back and tried to peer up into the trees to see where the dragon had gone after his admittedly clumsy fall, but it wasn’t in the immediate vicinity. His vision swirled for a few seconds, but he didn’t have much time to stay disoriented; he checked the dragon tracker to see the dragon was circling the area, trying to spot him. He realized his black armor may have made it slightly harder for the reptile to see him beneath all the of the trees’ shade.

And that gave him an idea.

Noah, are you alright?” Yusuke asked.

No,” he admitted as he rubbed his aching ribs. “But that don’t matter for now.”

Noah hauled himself to his feet and stumbled forward, thinking back on the terrain he’d passed on his way here. He made his way towards a bridge that had been built over one of the streams and then collapsed beneath it, taking a moment to catch his breath. One thing he and Mateo had been doing since he’d started hunting dragons was learning about their physiology. This particular breed of dragon had pit organs like a snake, which meant with him standing in a relatively cold environment—the stream and in the shadows beneath the bridge—the midnight dragon would likely catch onto his body heat rather quickly.

And sure enough, the midnight dragon landed in the stream with a loud and foreboding splash.

Noah swallowed hard as the winged reptile shook itself and then menaced towards him, its head lowered, its lips pulling away from its many sharp, venomous fangs. He unhooked the high-powered flashlight from the side of his utility belt and crept backwards underneath the bridge until he was no longer in any light. The dragon stalked him, its legs bunching as it prepared to dive towards him and take a bite.

Just as it lunged, Noah flipped on the light and shined it directly into the dragon’s eyes.

The midnight dragon shrieked and recoiled, shaking its head violently. Noah grabbed for the rifle, but the dragon then turned and slammed its thick tail into his chest. He tumbled head over foot a few feet away, winded. His already bruised ribs practically screamed as he struggled onto his knees, trying to force the air back in his lungs.

The dragon clearly couldn’t see very well, but it got its second wind and roared, preparing to strike in his general vicinity. Noah grabbed a pair of bolas and flung them at the dragon as it soared through the air towards him. The bolas wrapped around the top half of the dragon’s wings and it landed face-first in the stream a few feet away. He then leapt onto it, straddling the base of its neck, and grabbed one of the tethers, tying its mouth shut. The dragon threw its weight to one side, attempting to roll over and crush him, but he shoved a booted foot against the ground to keep them upright.

Using all his body weight, Noah slammed the creature to the ground and jutted a knee in the base of its neck so it couldn’t rise. He fumbled for the smaller handheld tranquilizer gun on his belt and shot a dose into the dragon’s swanlike neck.

Mercifully, the dragon’s movements became sluggish, then it collapsed on its side at long last, out like a light.

Noah slumped onto his backside beside the unconscious dragon and let out a tired chuckle. “Don’t try this at home, kids.”

Then he heaved onto his knees and began tying up the dragon’s limbs. “Okamura, we’re in business. It’s all trussed up and ready to go.”

Excellent work, Mr. Wilson. Glad to know you’re still in one piece.”

Noah snorted. “Like David after defeating Goliath, my friend. One down, four to go.”


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Kyoko M is a USA Today bestselling author, a fangirl, and an avid book reader. She has written the Amazon bestselling Black Parade urban fantasy series as well as the Of Cinder and Bone science-fiction dragon hunting series. 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 Georgia night. Like any author, she wants nothing more than to contribute something great to the best profession in the world, no matter how small.

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