Showing posts with label demons. Show all posts
Showing posts with label demons. Show all posts

Wednesday, October 15, 2025

Kuro Preorder Blitz #rabtbooktours

 


Jack-O-Lanterns (#7)


Dark Fantasy / M/M

Date Published: October 17, 2025

Publisher: Changeling Press




When Preston saves a black cat everything he knows about life and demons is going to be questioned.


While shopping for candy for his friend's Halloween party, Preston saves a strange black cat from a group of teenage boys. Overcome with a desire entirely new to him, Preston takes the black cat home and discovers things are not always what they seem, especially on Halloween.

The cat, a demon named Caleb, has been searching for his mate for months and can't help but be fascinated with sweet Preston. He's determined to drag Preston down to his home in the underwater demon world.

Now Preston must choose between his mortal life, or one full of demons -- and love.


Praise for Kuro

"I'm the kind of person that loves a well-paced erotic story to sweep me away from a long day and this one is perfect for that sort of occasion. I find it to be a fantastic read, a quick one, and well written."

-- 4 Stars from Eric, MM Good Book Reviews



Excerpt
Copyright ©2025 Ana Raine

 

"Will you bring some candy for tomorrow?" Jackie's voice was desperate. Before Preston could answer, there was the sound of crashing glass on the other end of the phone.

"Are you all right?" Preston asked his oldest friend. He somehow managed to balance a plate of leftover salad with a cup of almond milk while keeping a good grip on his cell. "What are you doing?"

"Getting ready for the party tomorrow. Or trying to."

"And that involves breaking glass?" Preston smiled. Although Jackie and he had both majored in dance in college, Jackie was anything but graceful.

"No, dummy, it involves me trying to get these crystal dishes I got from my mom to all fit on the table."

"Crystal? Sounds... extravagant. For a Halloween party."

"Look, this is like the fourth Halloween I've been alone. Time to step it up."

Preston sighed. "Okay." He slipped out of his dance pants and pulled a pair of jeans over dark briefs. "What do you need me to bring?"

"Candy. Whatever kind you want. But not cheap shit -- that makes me sick."

"I'm on it."

The wind was colder than Preston had expected. His windbreaker was thin and cheap, more of a decoration than an actual coat. It didn't do much to keep him warm but this was the perfect opportunity to save money on gas. He was between productions, so he needed to save money any way he could. Leaving the car parked in front of his apartment, he walked down the street.

Jackie's request was going to be hard to fill. There were only yellow sale signs where piles of candy should have been. Luckily there was one large bag of chocolate bars, which he grabbed. Narrowly avoiding a collision with a young couple, he felt his cock twitch, sending shivers of anticipation down his spine, almost as if he had a tall, handsome man to go home to... He'd watched too many vampire movies with dark-haired, blue-eyed heroes. Why else would he be getting so hot in the grocery store?

There were hardly any cars in the parking lot.

"Get it," a voice shrieked so loud the plastic bag Preston had been holding fell to the ground when he flinched.

Toward the end of the parking lot, besides a clustering of trees, he saw a group of teenage boys. Preston could make out three of them, all tall and gangly, but a fourth stepped back as Preston neared the group. "What are you..."

"Get out of here, man," the one who had just stepped back ordered. He had dark, pinched eyes and a glance that made Preston's blood boil.

Although Preston wasn't one for fighting, the urge to find out what the teenagers were doing was stronger than any emotion he'd felt in a while. "I asked what you're doing."

"Just havin' fun," one of the other teenagers jumped in defensively.

Two of the four teenagers were quiet, quickly dropping large sticks onto the pavement.

"Isn't there a curfew tonight, guys?" the young man nearest to the woods asked, moving away from Preston.

The tallest of the teenagers took a step back, revealing a large black cat, sitting on its back legs but with an apparent twist in its front leg.

"How could you do this?" Preston asked, brushing past the young men. "This is just wrong."

"Whatevs."

Preston scooped the cat into his arms. The cat was so heavy he had a harder time straightening up again. "Gosh, you're big. And black." The cat reminded him of an anime cat -- bigger and blacker than anything he'd ever seen before. "I think I'll call you Kuro."

The cat swished its head from side to side, glancing back at the retreating backs of his tormenters. Purple eyes, outlined in a deep black that was different from the shade of his silky black coat, stared at Preston. The gaze was penetrating and unearthly. Preston's knees began to tremble. Even his arms were shaking as Preston held the cat close to his chest. He fumbled to pick up the plastic bag, missing the handle because the cat's gaze was so consuming.

Sexuality was running rampant through his veins. He felt like he'd eaten drug-laced candy and was swimming through a current, trying to make sense of reality again. Get a grip, Preston chastised himself.

Maybe that hadn't been enough, which could explain his sudden feeling of fatigue. But there was stunning need to find release. His legs prickled and because his eyes flickered so quickly, there were dark patches clouding his vision.

The cat meowed in his arms, but didn't try to escape. Once Preston entered the glow of his brightly lit street, he was sure that the cat was safer, but the thought of releasing the dark fur pushed a feeling of tremendous pain through his chest.

"I'm not allowed to have pets," Preston said softly, snaking a hand around the bag of chocolate so he could pet the top of the cat's head. The cat had his eyes trained on him. "We should get you to the vet to fix that leg. Although I think we'll have to wait until tomorrow." The cat's purple eyes were unnerving, but he couldn't chase away the intrigue...

 

About the Author

Ana is still figuring out what she wants to do with her life, although social work seems to be the most likely. Her best friends are a box of chocolate and her kitten who always sit beside her while she writes. When Ana was in high school, she often wrote about the LGBT community, but now her work is less...innocent. Ana enjoys writing anything and everything, including BDSM, dragons, shifters, magic, and more.


Twitter: @AuthorAnaRaine

Blog: anarainebooks.blogspot.com


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

Save 15% off any order at ChangelingPress.com with code RABT15



RABT Book Tours & PR

Thursday, July 10, 2025

Locke & Co. New Release Blitz #IndiGo

Title: Locke & Co.

Author: E.J. Tett

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 07/08/2025

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 78500

Genre: Paranormal, Lit/genre, paranormal, urban fantasy, lesbian, immortal, tree spirit, leprechaun, werewolf, angel, incubus, addiction, magic user

Add to Goodreads


Description

Immortal Allery Locke has been tasked with finding the key that opens doors to other dimensions. Find it and hand it over to the wardens for destruction. There’s only one problem—the key is a woman. Whenever the key—Deni—opens a door, it allows monsters, demons, and all manner of unsavoury supernaturals to cross over and wreak havoc. Allery must keep Deni from falling into the wrong hands, because if rogue wardens get hold of her, it will cause an interdimensional war. Can Allery make the impossible decision? Kill her lover, or risk the end of the world.

Excerpt

Locke & Co.
E.J. Tett © 2025
All Rights Reserved

There is no jolt. Or shock. Or sudden, great intake of breath. Your eyes don’t snap open. This is no rebirth. It’s like waking up but not remembering the moment you were no longer asleep. You will hurt, depending on how you went, and you will scar, but you will live again. And that’s all that matters.

The whistle woke Allery from death, but it was the feeling of being smothered that made her heart hammer. She couldn’t move—the new-shower-curtain smell of the body bag seemed like the only thing between her and six foot of earth pressing down around her. No, it wouldn’t be six foot; they must’ve almost dug her out for her to have heard their signal. God, they couldn’t get to her quick enough.

Don’t panic. Don’t panic.

The material moved against her mouth when she breathed, so she clamped her lips together and exhaled hard through her nose instead. She didn’t dare open her eyes. She reminded herself she wouldn’t be trapped underground for eternity. They were coming. There was nothing for her to panic about.

She swallowed, grimacing at the dryness of her throat. Hanging was not a pleasant way to go but it had been a necessity. The prison guards had told her the only way she’d leave would be in a body bag and she’d smiled.

She longed to be able to bend her knees and lift her arms above her head but if she moved even an inch the earth moved with her, filling the wiggle room.

It wasn’t quite silent underground; if she strained her ears, she could hear a faint scratching of metal against rocks and a thumping of soil.

They were digging her up. They’d know not to keep jabbing into the ground like that, wouldn’t they? She didn’t know how much having a spade in the guts would hurt and she didn’t like to hazard a guess. The noises grew louder, and she could hear voices above.

“…hurry up!” Esme, impatient as usual.

“Well, if you put your back into it…” She couldn’t work out if that was Driscoll or Nick. Driscoll, probably. Nick would be on lookout, listening to the trees, checking for the guards.

The pressure eased on her chest as the soil lifted and she thrashed about to free herself. She opened her eyes though she could see nothing.

“Got her.” Esme’s voice again. “Quick, help her.”

Somebody unzipped the body bag and she got herself out of it as fast as she could. Esme grabbed her arms and pulled her out of the grave. The early evening gloom welcomed her back to the land of the living, and she quickly relaxed—the adrenaline dropping away left her shivering and aware of the fact she needed a wee.

She stood on the ground beside the open grave and brushed dirt from her grey prison uniform. Esme leaned on her shovel, a big grin on her pretty face. Driscoll thrust out his hand.

“Good to have you back, Al,” he said.

“I’m glad to be out of that place,” she replied, taking his hand.

“Did you get the information?”

She smiled. “Of course.” Driscoll didn’t ask for it. It wasn’t safe for anyone else to know; the wardens were also looking for the key, and if she had managed to find out about it, they would, too. Eventually.

The forest was full of unmarked graves; rectangles of fresh dirt nearby the only clues that anybody had been buried there at all. Who cared about a bunch of dead criminals? Allery frowned but Driscoll shoved his spade into the pile of earth and began filling the hole she’d climbed out of, stirring her into action. She took the shovel from Esme and helped him.

“Least they didn’t cut you open to find out how you died,” Driscoll commented.

Allery could still feel the rope burn around her neck. She smiled a little but didn’t reply. After they’d patted the ground flat, she hefted the spade over her shoulder, aware they might have to bolt at any moment.

“So, are we going after it now?” Esme asked.

Allery arched her back and stretched her neck, making the bones click. “I’ve just come back to life after spending far too long locked up,” she said. “It can wait one more day.”

“I’m sure it can,” Driscoll agreed, scratching his moustache with a chewed fingernail. “For now, how about we head home and have a little celebratory drink. The sooner we’re away from here, the better. Nick! Get your arse over here.”

It was always hard to pull Nick away from the trees once he was connected. He stood, palms to the trunk of a sycamore, his forehead pressed lightly against the bark, and Esme went to him, placed a hand on his shoulder, and put her lips to his ear. Allery dropped her gaze with a smile, imagining exactly what Esme would’ve said to get his attention.

“Jealous?” Driscoll teased, giving her a nudge with his elbow.

“Let’s go and get that drink,” she replied, hooking her arm through his. “And get the hell away from this place.” She took one last look at the grey walls of the prison peeking through the trees before turning away.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

E.J. Tett has been writing stories since primary school, some of which still survive in notebooks in her dad’s attic, and wanted to be an author as soon as she realised it was a possible career choice and “pony” and “ninja” weren’t viable options.

Her first short story, Club Freak, about an anonymous woman’s determination to find her husband’s killer, was published by Park Publications’ Debut magazine in May 2009. Since then, she has gone on to write many short stories and poems for various small presses and has achieved an honourable mention in the 2011 Writers of the Future competition. In 2014, writing as Emma Jane, she signed her first publishing contracts for not one, but two novels: Otherworld, formerly published by Torquere Press, and Shuttered, by Dreamspinner Press. She also has two novels published by NineStar Press, one a space opera and the other a contemporary romance. Learn more on her Website.

Giveaway

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


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Wednesday, May 14, 2025

The Dark Side Preorder Blitz #rabtbooktours


LGBTQ+, BDSM, Paranormal Romance

Date Published: May 16, 2025


 

Welcome to The Dark Side, where the line between love and lust blurs with dangerous passions.


The Dark One by Angela Knight

Matia of Ruza is one of the legendary Battlemaids -- a woman warrior who has taken an oath of celibacy in service of the Maid of Light. Kaska intends to make Matia the centerpiece in a sizzling erotic ritual in honor of his god.


Chain of Thorns by Will Okati

Riven finds himself trapped and enslaved by a powerfully seductive alien. Where is the line between fantasy and reality -- slavery and love?


BloodWolf by Sierra Dafoe

Centuries ago an ancient evil turned Baudouin Delacor into a beast for which there had never before been a name -- the BloodWolf. Delacor has only one hope left: that by destroying the succubus, he can free himself of its curse.

 

The following excerpt contains material suitable only for readers 18+.

EXCERPT

Excerpt from The Dark One (Angela Knight)

 

Kaska of Artane slowed his stallion to an easy amble. Prince Britar's fortress lay a full day away, and he'd ridden poor Warbringer hard this past month. He knew the Prince awaited the intelligence he'd gathered as a spy in neighboring Trovan but laming his horse would serve no purpose.

Particularly with war on the horizon.

Besides, the last time Kaska had come this way, he'd had to battle the local brigands. Two fell to his blade before the rest fled, but that left five. And they might be in the mood for revenge. I don't care to ride headlong into an ambush.

"Whoreson bastards!" A woman's roar of fury brought Kaska's head up. He drew Warbringer to a prancing halt.

Swords clashed, interspaced with male taunts and laughter. The laughter had a distinctly ugly note. The woman swore again, an edge of grim desperation in her voice.

The thieves had found a new victim.

Kaska set his heels to Warbringer's flanks and thundered up the road toward the sound. Rounding the bend, he saw five men fighting a lone female traveler they'd managed to unhorse. He recognized the dented, rusted armor and unshaven faces; it was indeed the same band of thieves.

But their victim was no common woman. Her armor and sword marked her as a follower of the Maid of Light -- a female warrior. She was tall for a woman, with a lithe, muscular build and pretty breasts barely contained by her intricately embossed breastplate. Long black hair swirled around her face as she spun and hacked at her tormentors with a slim sword designed for a woman's hand.

One of the brigands already lay dead at her feet, but four others remained, odds too great even for one of the legendary Battlemaids.

A grin of sheer, savage joy spread across Kaska's face. With a howl, he drew the blade sheathed across his back and kicked Warbringer into a thundering charge.

The nearest of the brigands whirled too late. Kaska took his head with a single stroke.

Another of the men jumped at him, hacking for his thigh with an axe, but Kaska spun Warbringer aside and thrust his blade into the thief's chest. The man tumbled off the lethal point, gurgling out his life.

Meanwhile, the third brigand fell to the Battlemaid's sword. His head tumbled from his shoulders.

The fourth man looked from Kaska to the thieves' would-be victim, calculated the odds, and took to his heels.

Kaska snatched a dagger from his thigh sheath and hurled it at the coward with an expert flip of his wrist. The man went down, the blade buried to the hilt between his shoulder blades.

Scarcely breathing hard, Kaska turned to the maid. "Are you well?"

"Well enough." She studied him, her dark eyes level. There was a sharp and elegant beauty to her face, with its broad, high cheekbones and square little chin. Her lush mouth could inspire a monk to carnal fantasies.

"My thanks, warrior," she said at last in a low, husky voice, pushing the long black hair out of her face. "There were too many of them for me to best alone." She considered him, appraising the width of his chest and the strength of his sword arm. Female appreciation lit her gaze, mixed with a warrior's caution.

She had reason for that caution, for he meant to challenge her himself. He worshiped the Dark One, and his god relished nothing as much as the moans of a defeated Battlemaid.

Imagining the tight grip of her virgin ass, Kaska felt his cock swell behind his loincloth.

Give her time to rest, and then...

Of course, the maid might well kill him instead, but looking at her long legs and full, sweet breasts, Kaska thought it a chance well worth taking.

But as he opened his mouth to warn her of his intent, all color left the Battlemaid's face. Her eyes rolled up. Kaska threw himself from Warbringer's back as she collapsed in a heap.

Two long strides carried him to the maid's side. Dropping to one knee on the dusty road, Kaska began an anxious examination. He found no wounds on the front of her body, so he rolled her onto her back.

The maid groaned and lifted her head. "Wha --?"

"Seems one of your cur attackers landed a blow after all," he told her grimly. "There's a stab wound in your back just under your backplate, over your left hip."

"Aye," she said, letting her head fall. "One of them had a dagger."

"'Tis not deep, but it bleeds still," Kaska said. "I can treat it, if you permit."

"Aye," the maid said, breathing now in shallow pants. "My thanks."

Kaska nodded and rose to retrieve his pack of battlefield medicines from Warbringer. Well, he thought as he walked to his horse, I won't be challenging her any time soon. Not with that wound.

Later, perhaps. When he'd examined her, he'd noticed she had a truly delicious ass.

He wanted it.


 

About the Authors


Angela Knight:

New York Times best-selling author Angela Knight has written and published more than sixty novels, novellas, and ebooks, including the Mageverse and Merlin’s Legacy series. With a career spanning more than two decades, Romantic Times Bookclub Magazine has awarded her their Career Achievement award in Paranormal Romance, as well as two Reviewers’ Choice awards for Best Erotic Romance and Best Werewolf Romance.


Sierra Dafoe:

An award-winning author who received three CAPA nominations in her first year of publishing, Sierra Dafoe has gone on to receive numerous awards and recommended reads for her work. Check her website for free stories, a link to her readers' group, sneak peeks, and all her latest news. Sign up for her newsletter to be entered in her monthly contest, and reach out through the "contact" page -- she loves hearing from her readers!


Will Okati:

Will Okati (formerly known as Willa) has lived through a few Interesting Times, but come out the other side a little grayer, a little wiser, and ready to get writing. Still as passionate about coffee, cats, and crafts as ever, but knowing that to your own self you must be true. Also still one of the quiet ones to watch out for, but life -- like storytelling -- is always a work in progress.


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


Pre-Order Today


RABT Book Tours & PR

Wednesday, May 7, 2025

Immortal Heat Preorder Blitz #rabtbooktours

 

BDSM Romance, Gay, Dark Fantasy

Date Published: May 9, 2025

 

 

Three vampires battle the lives they left behind to build a future out of the ashes of their pasts.

 

Immortal Steps: Tain, a renowned Celtic dancer, has bitter memories of his first crush and the trainer who left him without a word. For years he's flung himself from one brief romantic encounter to another, the subject of tabloid gossip and speculation, always insisting he's not gay. When Kyle, Tain's old mentor, comes back into Tain's life, the last thing Tain wants is to give the man, or the vampire, a place in his heart.

Hidden Depths: Pat's devoted his life to locating the wreck of The Pelican's Flight, sunk in 1692, along with forty other ships, when the infamous town of Port Royal slid into the Caribbean. Jamie lost more than his lover when The Pelican went down. Pat offers Jamie hope at finding his ship, along with a chance at rediscovering love. Will the secrets they share bring them together? Or tear them apart?

Vampires In Heat: Humans in Seattle are dying as a result of domestic cat vampires and demonesses working together. The latest victim is Erron's neighbor and best friend. Nolan, the leader of Seattle's Pacifistic Vampire Clan, and Erron, an albino who is commonly mistaken for a vampire, team up with the cat vamp leader to find the rogues who are killing needlessly and trying to discredit vampire-kind. And just maybe, between them, they'll find more than a remedy for this vampire scourge -- like love!


Publisher's Note: Immortal Steps, Vampires In Heat, and Hidden Depths have been previously published as stand alone novellas.


 

 The following excerpt contains material suitable only for readers 18+.

EXCERPT

Excerpt from Immortal Steps

 

Alone, Kyle Lohan entered his private balcony at the Grampian Theater in Edinburgh, Scotland. As he sat down, the house lights dimmed briefly to signal a two minute warning before the show began. The box smelled faintly of sex, although he doubted anyone without a vampire's heightened senses could detect the erotic scent. Regardless, it was his own fault for sneaking in to watch rehearsals the previous evening. He'd been unable to resist tugging his cock in time with the heavy beat of the dancers as they practiced.

Okay, not all the performers excited him. Just one.

Tain O'Halloran.

Tonight Kyle had better prepared for the public performance, or so he'd thought. The quick release during his shower should have calmed his libido enough to sit through the performance without a hard-on. But as the first strains of a flute solo poured across the stage, the anticipation proved to be more than his body could resist and his cock rose to an aching fullness.

Tain. On stage. His stage.

How long had he waited for this? Worked for this? Dreamed of this? Sometimes it seemed like forever. And yet, very soon, the moment he'd been preparing for would arrive. One way or another, he would finally end his long pursuit.

He adjusted the fit of his tuxedo pants as the chorus sprinted across the stage. Their shoes hit the wooden floor in rhythmic, staccato beats, flirting with the notes. Kyle couldn't stop his own feet from scuffing against the floor in a pale imitation of the dancers' fancy footwork. Had his heart been prone to beat, it would have been racing as fast as the music.

A few more seconds...

Then, appearing out of a flash of light and smoke, bam! There he was. Tain O'Halloran. The male lead's long, sleek black hair floated behind him as he bounced in perfect synchronization with the little blond at his side. His grey eyes flashed with pure joy and a little arrogance. A smile curved his thin pink lips. And what that black leather did for his ass...

Kyle groaned softly as his cock twitched with longing, but he refused to slake his lust. Privacy wasn't an issue, even during a public performance. No, nothing mattered more than soaking up every moment of this night to tuck away in his memories. If the evening didn't go as planned, this could be all he had left to remember the talented young man come morning.

The first dance ended, and Kyle felt the tightness in his chest ease as Tain exited stage right. He'd reappear several times throughout the performance.

Kyle itched with anticipation for the next time, and the next... and the next... By the second act, Kyle could pick out Tain's unique sweat from the morass of odors permeating the air. The scent teased his cock like nothing else. His whole body tensed as he imagined jumping over the balcony's rail to land on top of the dancer's young bones, then fucking him to within an inch of his life, claiming him on stage for all the world to see.

Well, that's one way to announce that you're back in his life, Kyle thought with a rueful shake of his head. Definitely not one of your brightest ideas though.

If anything, such a bold, stupid move would get him thrown out of Tain's life for good. Kyle's goal was quite the opposite. If he had his way, nothing would separate him from Tain ever again.

The show ended with a roar of applause that pulled the dancers back on stage for a second encore. Vibrant and smiling under the lights, Tain looked like he could hold out for a third reprise if the director let him. However, the rest of the troupe wasn't fairing as well, so when the curtains closed again the house lights came up.

The show was over, but Kyle's performance of a lifetime was about to begin.


About the Author

Kira Stone has been around the block…the writer’s block, that is.

From vamps and witches to historical heroes, from futuristic scientists to paranormal corporate executives, from Canadian werewolves to off-world shifters, Kira has written about them all. Manlove has sparked hot and heavy in many of her plots, but Kira also finds a lucky lady to keep the sexy heroes company from time to time. While Scotland remains her favorite place in the world, Kira is constantly in search of new adventures to add to the creative primordial ooze where her best stories are born.


Author’s Website

Author on Facebook

Author on Goodreads


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


Pre-Order Today



RABT Book Tours & PR

Wednesday, November 27, 2024

Hunger Pre-Order Blitz #rabtbooktours

 

(Winter's Call 2)

 

Dark Fantasy Romance

Date Published: November 29, 2024

Publisher: Changeling Press


 

One witch, one cop, and an insane vampire hell bent on destroying them all -- if the demons don’t get them first.

Dr. Adriana Hill’s life is thrown into a frightening whirlwind when she meets the twin sister she never knew she had. Swept into a fight ages in the making, she joins forces with her sister’s friends to stand against a vampire hell bent on destroying the one who made them all.

Detective Logan Greer is hunting down a killer who seems to be targeting anyone associated with the beautiful and enigmatic Dr. Hill. Things are not what they seem, though. He’s determined to protect the woman who’s stolen his heart, no matter the cost.

 

Excerpt

Copyright ©2024 Carys Seraphine

 

“Did you hear?”

Logan Greer looked up from the mountain of paperwork on his long-suffering desk. “Hear what?”

His friend and fellow detective, Jan Summers, leaned on the side of his desk, arms crossed while she peered at him like he’d missed something. Had he?

“They found another body.”

“Okay…”

“Believed to be connected to your case.”

Now she had his attention. “What? Not that friend of the doc’s, was it?”

“No, but close enough to her to make the higher-ups leery.”

Logan stood and grabbed his coat. “Where?”

Jan handed him a slip of paper with an address on it. “Apparently, it’s a block or so away from Dr. Hill’s office.”

He grabbed his keys and headed out, his mind going in half a million directions at once. Whatever was going on, he didn’t doubt it had something to do with Dr. Adriana Hill.

The drive to her office didn’t take long, even without a siren. He parked in front of the building and noted the metal detector just inside the door. Not many health providers stuck their necks out for vampires, and those who did put themselves at the wrong end of others who would rather the vamps die final deaths. Logan had no qualms with vamps as long as they left him alone.

He spotted a few department vehicles along the busy street and started down the sidewalk in that direction, needing answers before he went inside to break yet more bad news to the doc.

“Ah, there you are,” one of the techs said as Logan approached.

“What’ve you got?”

The tech finished removing his gloves and tossed them into a biowaste bin. “Well, believe it or not, a vamp.” At Logan’s raised eyebrow, the tech just nodded. “Young one, in vamp terms. I’d say about twenty-five, maybe thirty? Female.” He led Logan to a black body bag and unzipped it.

The resemblance to Dr. Hill unnerved Logan more than he cared to admit. “Cause of death?”

“That’s just it,” the tech said, zipping the bag up. “We don’t know. We’re gonna have Tox run some tests, though. She wasn’t drained or burned or decapped.”

Logan sighed. “Keep me updated, especially with whatever Tox finds. I need to go have a chat with Dr. Hill.”

“Dr. Adriana Hill? The vamp doc? Think she’s involved?”

“I think she may be a target,” Logan said. “Gut feeling. I’ll be in touch.”

Logan went back toward Dr. Hill’s office and stepped inside. He placed everything on the scanner table and nodded at the guard. The detector beeped, but given his profession, the guard just waved him by. Logan gathered his things and walked up to the receptionist’s desk.

“Hello, can I help you?”

He handed a business card to the young woman. “I need to speak with Dr. Hill, please.”

“Oh, yes, Detective. Please have a seat, and I’ll let her know.”

Logan sat in a nearby chair before giving the decent-sized waiting room a cursory glance. A few patients sat scattered around the room, most of them on their phones.

“Detective Greer?”

Logan looked up and couldn’t help but be taken aback by those mesmerizing dark emerald eyes. He stood and offered his hand, which she shook. “I apologize for this unannounced visit, Dr. Hill. Do you have a moment?”

Though she seemed a bit apprehensive, Dr. Hill gestured toward the hallway. “Of course, follow me.” Once inside her office, she shut the door and sat behind her desk. “There’s been another murder.”

Logan blinked. “How --”

“Rumors spread like wildfire in the vampire community, Detective. Several of my patients have mentioned it this evening.”

Logan sat down and tugged out a battered notepad and pen. “That makes sense. I imagine losing one of their own would get them talking about it amongst themselves. Did you know her?”

“Not personally. She was one of Edith’s patients, so I never saw her in that capacity. What happened?”

“Her body was found about a block from here, stuffed behind a dumpster like a ragdoll. No blood loss, no burns, no evidence of even attempted decapitation.” He glanced up at her. “Dr. Hill, the fact that she resembled you a great deal is of particular concern.”

Dr. Hill leaned back, her expression pensive. “You think someone mistook her for me?”

“It’s not a guarantee, but the thought crossed my mind. Despite being a patient of Edith Tanner’s, the victim bears an uncanny resemblance to you, and the murder took place within a block of your office. I asked you before if Dr. Tanner had any enemies.”

Dr. Hill nodded.

“Now I’m asking that of you. Is there anyone who would want to harm you?”

She sighed and stood. “What I am about to show you is confidential, you understand. Patient-doctor privilege, HIPAA, you know the drill.” She retrieved a folder from a filing cabinet and set it on the desk in front of him. “The majority of our files are digital now, in an EHR program. Only the oldest are still in paper format.”

He opened the folder. “A patient file?”

“Yes.” She sat down again and leaned back in her chair. “About ten years ago, I had a patient come in who had been bitten. He was angry and quite combative. He seemed to think I could fix him.”

“Fix him?” Logan asked as he studied the black-and-white photo in the top right corner, affixed to the patient information form with a paperclip.

“Stop him from becoming a vampire,” Dr. Hill said.

 

About the Author

Carys Seraphine is an alter ego of gay romance author Mychael Black and fantasy author Katherine Cook. Carys adores paranormal anything, be it ghosts, ghouls, or goblins. Okay… maybe not goblins. Not even Carys can make THEM sexy.

 

Contact Links

Author Website

 

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

 

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Monday, October 7, 2024

The Death of Rowan Copry Review #IndiGo

Title:  The Death of Rowan Copry

Author: Elaine White

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 10/01/2024

Heat Level: 1 - No Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 113500

Genre: Paranormal, young adult, contemporary, fantasy, demons, half-demons, gods, non-binary secondary character, necromancy, mage, magic-users, light magic, dark magic, witches, reunited, time travel, urban fantasy

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Description

Fourteen years ago, Storm Tera failed to save the world. Born a prophecy child, foretold to save magic, he went into war untrained, unprepared and lost everything. Ever since, he’s been in self-exile, turning his back on magic as it grows and festers inside of him, unused and unwanted.

Then a young witch makes an offer he can’t refuse: to go back in time and undo the mistakes that led to his failure. They have one chance to rewrite the past, to save everyone he lost, and ultimately…to save magic.

Storm is about to play a game of cat and mouse with time and the Fates. Necromancy is in his blood, but if he can’t find a way to prevent the death of Rowan Copry, he can say goodbye to magic, and life as he knows it, forever.
Excerpt

The Death of Rowan Copry
Elaine White © 2024
All Rights Reserved

August 1, 2040

Waking in a bed of tangled sheets, coated in sweat, was nothing new for Storm. Every night of the last fourteen years had been predictable, from the racing heartbeat and the slow-fading memories, to the shaking of his right hand every time he reached for a cigarette. He took his first puff, raked a hand through his hair, and swung his legs out from under the thin sheet.

Storm walked into the bathroom and started the shower. Eyeing the mirror, the inevitable awaited: black smoke as dark as his magic swirled in his eyes, tempting him to delve into the darkest of powers, a birthright no one had bothered to teach him. If he’d known how to wield forbidden magic, he wouldn’t have spent his adult life having night sweats and nightmares, all because the Fates were bickering bitches.

The thin line along his top lip suggested he was dehydrated. His tawny skin showed paler than usual, meaning he could add anaemia or vitamin deficiencies to his worries. That was all part of living in the West of Scotland, he supposed: sea air and lack of sunshine. Pushing aside the long fringe of his raven hair, he wondered if the time had come to move somewhere new, less conducive to invisibility. If he wasn’t careful, he’d fade for real.

Ignoring the temptation to test his untapped abilities, Storm showered to wash off the shakes, sweat, and lingering memories of the worst night of his life. He dressed in the invisibility of a white T-shirt, black jeans, and a black leather jacket, the same thing everyone else wore in this neck of the woods who came here to disappear. There was a reason he lived above a biker bar, miles from the nearest town, deep in the heart of the woodlands. The storms were turbulent here by the sea, and most witches knew better than to settle where magic was at its wildest.

Storm was safer living far from other magic users, friends and enemies alike. He’d come here to escape the world of magic, laws and backstabbing, and the politics of guardians, gods, and elements. Running didn’t exorcise his demons. He took them everywhere he went. If anyone was desperate enough to seek him out, they knew where to find him. The wind could tell them if they had the sense to listen.

He didn’t bother with keys or a wallet as he left the apartment and descended the steps. Wards carved into the wooden door frame kept everyone out. His bar tab was paid at the end of every month, when he got his pathetic human salary from the docks, and Storm kept strict control of his vices and exit strategies.

Magic coursed through his veins like a torrent of the most volatile cyclone. Nothing calmed the raging heat and hate beneath his skin like working on the docks, unloading the fishing boats. The movement, the lack of a routine, and never knowing what tomorrow would bring was the unpredictability his soul craved, the freedom and life of a drifter, with no job, boss, or family to tie him down.

On solid ground, with nothing but compacted earth and weeds beneath his black boots, he stopped. Storm tipped his head to the sky and basked in what the world could tell him. Rain was coming; not an unfamiliar warning in this area, promising not to be heavy or dangerous. He mentally pushed the warning aside and moved on to the next. The wind wanted him to know magic was in the air, someone powerful approaching from the west. He’d suspect someone was passing through, coming for his help, but the wind seemed unsure. When Storm stuck his tongue out, the first drop of rain brought little clarity. Something was coming. A deeply buried instinct screamed Beware! Nosy. Too curious. Whoever was on their way, the rain thought they should mind their own business.

Around Halloween, curious kids would drift through town in hopes of seeing the crackpot Storm Tera: prophesied Chosen One, mage of the elements and earth. Too early in the year for that, he wondered what was hunting him and why they made the wind nervous.

Storm mused over what was coming, wondering if they would be brave enough to approach or if he’d get to keep his peace for another day. Hopefully, the latter.

He went into the bar beneath his apartment, ignoring the stale air and sticky floor to focus on the familiar hints of hops and cigar smoke. The latter came from the old man in the corner, a permanent fixture since Storm moved here three years ago.

He smiled, remembering the first time the man had spoken to an invisible companion. Storm had tapped into his powers, wondering if a spirit, demon or creature was toying with the man, but there had been nothing.

Storm caught the bartender’s eye. He gave a nod of greeting and took the centre stool at the bar like always. No one spoke to him; they never did. The bartender tended to flirt late at night when Storm was leaving. He’d get that look in his big blue eyes, tip his head in curiosity and wait for Storm to make the first move. He never did, never would.

How could he explain the nightmares that plagued him each night? No ordinary person, those who lacked even the simplest magical gifts, would understand the black mist clouding his eyes whenever he felt too strongly, all because he didn’t know how to suppress the darkness in his veins.

Settled in his stool, Storm tapped out a cigarette and used Ithen’s old lighter for his second smoke of the night. At barely after midnight, he’d only left the bar a few hours ago but no one would remark on his return. They never did.

A glass of scotch appeared along with a tentative smile. When he didn’t react, except to lift his glass and take a drink, the bartender moved on, knowing better than to hover.

A lesson he wished the rest of the world would learn.


Free use image by Gordon Johnson on Pixabay

Ornery Owl's Review

Rating: Five out of Five Stars

This intricate, immaculately written and edited story presents a bit of a conundrum. It is clearly fantasy, complete with demons, time travel, dark magic, undead, and plenty of peril for the embattled hero. Yet the narrative reads like a true crime documentary. This is a story encompassing full-on fantasy with a realistic feel all in one place. It makes the reader believe that anything is possible. 

Sometimes the hero in a story this precise ends up being a bit of a Gary Stu who can do anything well at any time and always comes out looking clean and polished, as if he just stepped out of a spa treatment rather than a battle of supernatural forces. The author avoids this pitfall. 

Storm Tera commands powerful magic but is deeply troubled and filled with doubts. Choices he made in the past resulted in the death of someone he cared about. He has never been able to forgive himself for Rowan Copry's death. Now, he must manipulate time to change the past and save the future.

With believable characters, fantastical situations, and an immersive plot, this book is a sure-fire winner for readers who enjoy their fantasy on the dark and gritty side. Because of the detailed descriptions of fantasy violence and mature situations, I would not recommend this book for readers younger than sixteen. 


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NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Elaine White is the author of multi-genre MM romance, celebrating ‘love is love’ and offering diversity in both genre and character within her stories.

Growing up in a small town and fighting cancer in her early teens taught her that life is short and dreams should be pursued. She lives vicariously through her independent, and often hellion characters, exploring all possibilities within the romantic universe.

The Winner of two Watty Awards – Collector’s Dream (An Unpredictable Life) and Hidden Gem (Faithfully) – and an Honourable Mention in 2016’s Rainbow Awards (A Royal Craving) Elaine is a self-professed geek, reading addict, and a romantic at heart.

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Demon Lover Teaser #rabtbooktours



Paranormal Romance, Halloween, Age Gap

Date Published: October 11, 2024



When John Standcliff, Satan's bounty hunter, is summoned to Earth to claim the soul of a serial killer, he finds the worst of hell's tortures can be no worse than the pain of falling in love with a mortal woman.

Corinne Rogerio has come to Maine to research six murders that took place back in 1656. She has no idea that the handsome stranger she meets in an old cemetery is actually the murderer she's been studying. Even worse, he's been sent to track down a serial killer who is closer to her than she ever imagined.




EXCERPT

 

Sparks shot from John's ax each time it struck the trunk of the steel tree. Every blow jolted through his aching arms and rang in his ears, yet he almost welcomed the racket. He'd lost track of how long he'd dwelled in the steel forest, chopping tree after tree without pause for food, water, or sleep. His demon's body could survive for decades without rest or sustenance. If he ceased chopping long enough, the bleeding sores on his palms would heal and his muscles would almost magically stop aching. Unfortunately he must continue the drudgery until given the order to halt.

All around him, the smooth gray trees stretched for miles. As punishment for his crimes, John labored alone, chopping steel trees in Satan's forest, only ceasing when sent to collect yet another evil soul to toil in Hell.

"Hello, John."

The sneering voice echoed throughout the forest and made John's skin prickle with disgust. Pausing, he listened to his own panting breath in the stillness. Sweat dripped into his eyes and trickled down his torso, soaking into the wet waistband of his black trousers. He waited for the voice to continue. Usually when Bee called, it was to send him on one of his gruesome missions.

"Oh, John, your services are required. Won't it be nice to go home again?"

"Home, Bee?" John curled his lip. The little bastard loved playing with people. Three-hundred-forty-eight years ago, John had been far more gullible. The first few times Bee had promised him a meeting with his sister or even a chance to escape from Hell, he had actually believed him.

At first he had looked forward to visiting the mortal world, but eventually the illusion shattered. Without friends or family, the world was a lonely place. People feared him and kept their distance. It was as if they sensed the evil inside him and instinctively stayed away. Never again would he experience the comfort and total relaxation of sleep, to close his eyes in complete surrender. Perhaps worst of all was his inability to fully enjoy lovemaking. He could pleasure women and feel intense sexual stimulation, yet climax eluded him.

"Can't you think of a better story than that?"

"It's not a story. Your hometown reeks of evil. Our master has been smelling it for quite some time now and he wants it. You go get it for him, John, and this time there might be something in it for you."

"Beelzebub, leave us," said a soft, musical voice. It sent a tingle down John's spine and filled him with such warmth that he nearly panicked. After so many years in Hell, nothing touched him anymore. What sort of evil had Bee conjured that could stir his emotions again? The voice continued. "Once a soul is condemned to Hell, it is rarely allowed a chance for redemption. There are sometimes cases of a good soul doing evil, and though it is not condoned, under special circumstances someone like you may be given the opportunity to move on, providing certain specifications are met."

John closed his eyes and drew a deep breath. "It's not going to work, Bee. I no longer believe in fairy tales."

"Bee is gone. His kind cannot abide me."

"I suppose you're from up there?"

"I'm from everywhere. I know no bounds. Listen carefully to what I tell you, John Standcliff. Fulfill the task set for you and send the evil in your hometown to Hell. Do it without harming an innocent soul, and you will be freed from Satan's realm and allowed your chance at redemption."

John laughed humorlessly. "You don't give up, do you, Bee?"

"Believe what you will, but you have only this one opportunity."

"Oh, just one?" John's voice dripped sarcasm.

"At least in this millennium. You're not the only demon in Hell who deserves a second chance."

"Then give one of them my turn. I don't want it."

"I understand why you don't believe me, but keep my offer in mind during your return to the world of the living. If I'm lying, then you'll be no worse off than you are now, but if I'm telling the truth…"

The voice faded. Moments later, Bee appeared beside John. He was nothing more than a dark cloud, loosely resembling the shape of a man. Bee shuddered. "Glad she's gone. Now. Are you ready to get to work?"

"Who am I after this time?"

"As usual, I can't give you too many details. After all, I'm not supposed to be catching the soul. That's your job."

"Bee…"

"It's a serial killer. Here's his scent." Bee's cloudy black hand swept beneath John's nose. The faint aroma was all a demon required to track his prey. "While you're there, why don't you break your own rules and hack apart some humans? The master loves it when his demons terrorize the living."

"Just send me out of here so I can get this over with."

Blackness enveloped John, and in those dark moments between Hell and Earth, he absorbed the details of his new identity and a crash course on life in the twenty-first century.

 

About the Author

Always a fan of romance and the paranormal, I started writing over twenty years ago. My first story was accepted for publication in 1996. Since then I’ve written over one hundred short stories, novellas and novels. I love to blend genres. I also love horror and a happily ever after, so if you’re looking for romance with witches, aliens, vampires, angels, demons, shapeshifters and more, there’s a good chance you’ll find something to your taste here.

When I’m not writing, I enjoy reading, watching horror and action movies, working out and spending time with my family and pets.

 

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


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