Showing posts with label historical romance. Show all posts
Showing posts with label historical romance. Show all posts

Monday, October 5, 2026

Dires Irae Teaser #rabtbooktours

 


Gay Vampire Romantic Suspense

Date Published: October 9, 2026




Makoto and Will must accept their bond in order to stop a madman’s killing spree.

 

London, 1816. Someone is killing vampires and their Hosts, leaving brutalized bodies on display in the heart of London. Makoto Morinaga, minore and lead hunter for the Baron of Colbourne, must find and stop the madman. Yet the mission is in peril almost from the moment it starts. In despair over loving his master’s Host, he breaks his oath and finds himself bound through Compulsion to the last person he would choose as his Host -- the flamboyant young man who has spent years pining over their master. Makoto can ill afford this appalling distraction while he hunts for a monstrous killer.

Will Carter is an experienced Host who has offered up body and blood to vampires since reaching his majority. He spent years learning the duties of the Colbourne Host, only to have his dreams crumble when his master finds a man more perfect than Will. In his frustration, he taunts Colbourne’s lead hunter into committing a forbidden act. His punishment? Being bound to the last person he would ever wish to hold his contract -- Makoto Morinaga, a man whose body he knows well, but whose heart is a dark mystery and whose stoicism grates on Will’s every nerve.

An unexpected emotional connection heats their hearts even as their Host bond heats their bodies. Just as they begin to find common ground, the madman strikes again. Finding the madman’s lair might end the violence, but the price might destroy them both.

 

WARNING: Adult content, including references to physical violence and torture which may be triggers for some readers.

 



EXCERPT

 

Blood. Thickening blood, smoking and bubbling to a slow boil. The fire above it flickered in the shadows of the darkened alley. Postnato watched as the demon and its unholy servant writhed on the cobbles in purifying flame. Glee and eager satisfaction suffused him as he and his brother awaited the lethal culmination of their night’s work for the Inquisitio Sanguinis.

The demon’s mouth had pulled back from those inhuman fangs in a satisfying rictus of pain. The foul beast still struggled to free itself, despite sharpened stakes piercing shoulder and thigh, pinning it against the bloodied earth. The agonized contortions of the monster’s corrupt human slave had ceased, becoming the involuntary spasms of approaching death.

“Revertere ad inferos, Daemon,” Postnato whispered, condemning the beast to hell with a sneer. “Ad dominum tuum infernalis!”

Yes, back to Hell with you, back to your infernal master, he thought savagely.

The creature’s demonic struggles strengthened at the words, the frantic actions accompanied by a harsh croak of anguish. The renewal of its futile struggles only served to drive the stakes deeper into its flesh, and to fan the flames consuming it.

Postnato resumed his silence as Antenato raised a cautioning finger to his lips. He subsided with difficulty, impatient for the inhuman beast to surrender its last breath.

After another quarter hour, during which the human half of their quarry had become nothing but a flickering corpse-light, the demon gave a final shudder, slackening in approaching death at last.

With a grunt of satisfaction, Postnato bent for one of the buckets at his feet, waiting to douse the remaining flames after his brother had completed one more task, tearing a final, hoarse screech of pain along with the fangs from the dying beast. Antenato held his prize aloft, eyes aglow as their quarry expired. At this sign, Postnato heaved the contents of both pails over the corpses, smothering the fires with rotting offal gleaned from the butcher’s slop midden. The smoldering ruins sent up an instant reek, and he smiled in unison with his brother. This had not been their sacred mission, but chance had given them a demon and now there was one less to walk the earth.

Now to find the leader of these abominations.

* * *



About the Author

Autumn grew up loving history, mythology, and all things Japanese, not necessarily in that order. This eclectic love affair has bled over into her writing, and her stories are always well spiced with the taste of Japan, strange mythological beasties, or the lords and ladies of the ton. Sometimes all three, leading to dark desires and forbidden loves.

And after all, dangerous passions should lead to uninhibited love.

 

Author’s Website

Author on Facebook

Follow Autumn on BookBub


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



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Friday, October 2, 2026

The Hawk's Lady Book Blitz #rabtbooktours




Historical Romance

Date Published: July 4, 2026



A blond Barbary pirate captain of a xebec. . . Sinan Reis.

Who is he? Why did he desert his country?

His latest capture: a fine yacht. And its owner. . . Lady Victoria Grenville.

Who is she? Can an heiress to a fortune conform to harem life?

Amidst sea battles, kidnappings, and political menace from the Dey of Algiers, Sinan and Tory start as captor and captive. But their fierce battle of wills will transform them both.

Most importantly, if Tory can’t submit to him will he sell her at auction? Or can she escape before he does?

Kismet has other plans.

In 1799, Lady Victoria "Tory" Grenville, a willful English heiress, is captured at sea by Sinan Reis, a blond Barbary pirate captain secretly working for a cause he can't reveal. Aboard his xebec and within the walls of an Algiers harem, captor and captive wage a battle of wills that becomes a battle for the heart, set against real political intrigue between the new United States, the Dey of Algiers, and the warring Federalists and Democratic-Republicans of post-Revolutionary Philadelphia. Sweeping sea battles, kidnappings, and court machinations build to a richly satisfying historical romance grounded in meticulously researched 18th-century detail.

 

* New, expanded edition with a newly written epilogue extending the story into the events of 1814, bridging to the author's upcoming Regency-era trilogy.

* Bonus material: author's historical notes, a detailed bibliography/source list documenting the book's research, and a preview/teaser of Shannon's forthcoming "Fire, Wind and Earth" trilogy (Ashes, Burning Bright; Whirlwind, Burning Bright; Tiger, Burning Bright).

* Author Colleen Shannon was nominated by Romantic Times as Best New Historical Romance Author and has won/been nominated for multiple industry awards (including a Kiss Award) across an 18-novel career with over a million copies in print.

* Limited deluxe hardback printing released to mark the U.S. 250th anniversary with patriotic design features available on Colleen Shannon's author website.


The Hawk's Lady: a Deluxe 250th Anniversary Edition of Colleen Shannon's beloved 1989 Barbary Wars romance, now fully revised with new original content.

 

About the Author


Colleen Shannon grew up in Midland, Texas where the skies are as limitless as the tales told by its many colorful residents, dreamers and entrepreneurs all, with some scoundrels sprinkled in. Colleen grew up reading and writing stories of every kind. She wrote her first short story at eight, began a novel at 14 and read authors like Ayn Rand and Clive Cussler at 13. After college when she married and expected her first child, she used a scrap computer assembled by her engineer husband, to write her first novel, Wild Heart Tamed (not posted digitally because she considers it a learning experience).

She sold it herself to Berkley in less than a year, and at the age of 26 began a new career and never looked back. The strength of her first book led to her nomination by Romantic Times as Best New Historical Author. She went on to win and/or be nominated for many other awards, including a Kiss Award for all three heroes of her Fairy Tale trilogy written for Dorchester Books. One of her six completed scripts is a modern, very different version to her Georgian England set beauty and the beast novel The Gentle Beast. It has not been shown as it needs heavy revisions but she moves easily between scripts and novels, including original screenplays like Full Circle, currently revised after two Blacklist evaluations. In the last two years, she has become one of Film Freeways’ top winning screenwriters internationally, per Film Freeway management.

Her 18 single title releases have appeared on many bestseller lists; she has well over a million books in print. Colleen’s recent works include thrillers and screenplays that combine her favorite novel story elements: romance, suspense, history and action. Most recently, she published three Kensington Lyrical Press romantic suspense. The first in the series, Foster Justice, was released in December 2014 and ranked #1 on Amazon’s Western Romance list. Colleen converted the story to a novel from the original script version she wrote at UCLA’s Advanced Professional Screenwriting program.

Colleen Shannon graduated cum laude from the University of Texas at Austin with a B.A. in Archaeology and more recently earned her Master’s in Real Estate Development from the University of Southern California. She currently lives in Austin, Texas.

 

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Tuesday, September 29, 2026

It's All About Love Teaser #rabtbooktours


 

 Women's Fiction / Historical Fiction / Romance
Date Published: 11-10-2026


 


 San Francisco, 1967. The Summer of Love promises radical freedom—but for twenty-year-old Juliette, it becomes a dangerous trap.
 
Desperate to escape her conventional family, Juliette shocks her parents by announcing her engagement to David, a long-haired free spirit. When her father, Tristan—a famous novelist harboring a tragic past—vehemently forbids the union, Juliette acts on impulse. In the dead of night, she climbs out her window and flees with David to the counterculture epicenter of Haight-Ashbury.
 
But beneath the cloud of incense and rock 'n' roll, independence carries a steep price. As David drifts into a haze of drugs and broken promises, Juliette’s bohemian dream shatters. Back home, her flight reopens old wounds. Her fiercely protective mother, Lorna, must help Tristan confront the shadows of his past as they desperately try to pull their daughter back from the edge before it's too late.
 
It’s All About Love is a poignant coming-of-age story about the fragile line between rebellion and destruction and the enduring, messy grace of family.


Excerpt

“I’m getting married!” Juliette burst through the door, holding her ring finger up for the world to see. Well, for my dear husband of twenty-two years and me to see.
            Said dear husband rose from his chair with such gusto that the poor chair clattered to the floor, victim of his temper. “What?!”
            The humid June air clung to the back of my neck as I stood. Pushing my graying hair out of my eyes, I took a step toward my husband and placed a hand on his upper arm. I recognized the fear that flashed beneath his anger. I’d seen that look far too many times lately as she missed her curfew night after night all summer long.  “Tristan, dear, just...calm down, okay?” I cast a pleading glance between him and our daughter. I could see the words on the edge of his tongue. Don’t follow in my footsteps. His own impulsive marriage led to a tragedy that impacted both our lives. I knew the thought of Juliette repeating his mistakes kept him awake at night.
            “Calm down?” Tristan tossed his hands up; then his arms flopped to his thin torso’s sides.
            “Your heart,” I said, stepping in front of him. “Please.”
            He released a sound somewhere between a growl and a groan, then righted his chair and sat. “So, who’s the lucky guy?” he shot at Juliette. “Don’t tell me it’s that long-haired hippie.”
It wasn’t just the hair. David's casual attitude toward drugs reminded Tristan too much of his own dance with addiction, though he'd never admit that to her.
            Juliette stood just inside the open door. Only the screen separated her from darting outside and the darkness swallowing her for another late night. Another night without a curfew. Another night we hoped we could trust her judgment. Another night our little girl proved she wasn’t so little anymore.
            She crossed her arms over her chest and sent her dad a glare worthy of one of his own. Her blue eyes held the same spark that challenged, much like Tristan’s eyes. “Seriously, Dad? Like you should talk.” She gestured toward his messy, longish hair.
            “That’s not the point,” Tristan said, teeth clenched. “You can’t just go running off with the first guy who puts a ring on your finger. If he had any decency, he’d have asked us first.”
            Juliette closed the door and scoffed. “It’s 1967, Daddio.” She popped her gum as she leaned against the table. “I don’t need your permission.”
            “Like hell you don’t.” Tristan stood, the menacing tone creeping back into his voice.
            I came between them. “Okay, both of you… Can’t we talk about this?”
            Juliette shifted her gaze to me. “Mom, please. Can’t you make Dad see reason?”
            I held back a sigh and lifted my hand. About to place it on her shoulder, I resisted and let my arm drop. “Juliette, this isn’t a good idea. David isn’t—”
            “Isn’t what, Mom?” A tremor ran through her voice. She blinked rapidly, then stepped away. She headed for the door to the dining and living rooms, stopping before she exited. “Why can’t you just be happy for me for once?” Her footsteps banged through the house and up the stairs. A slam of her bedroom door and I knew it would be unwise to knock anytime the rest of the night.
 

 

About the Author


Bestselling and award-winning author of the Lorna & Tristan Series, Cynthia Hilston is a stay-at-home mom of three young kids, happily married, and lives in the Cleveland, Ohio, area. Writing has always been like another child to her. After twenty years of waltzing in the world of fan fiction, she has stepped away to do her debut dance with original works of fiction, although she still dabbles in fan fiction.
In her spare time–what spare time?–she devours books, pets her kitties, looks at the stars, drinks wine or coffee with good friends, and dreams of what other stories she wishes to tell.

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TikTok: @cynthiahilston
Youtube: @cyndihilston

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Tuesday, September 1, 2026

Uprising Release Blitz #rabtbooktours




Book One of the Fitzjohn Duology


Historical Fiction with Speculative and Romantic Elements

Date Published: 09-01-2026

Publisher: Literary Wanderlust



England, 1381 AD: Blanche Fitzjohn is an outcast in her small coastal village. Not only is she the illegitimate daughter of John of Gaunt, the man responsible for her neighbors’ over-taxation, but she possesses strange abilities: hearing sound from miles away and smelling people’s emotions.

She takes solace in her studies with the local wisewoman and in her friendship with Geoff, a groom at the local manor. Until the day Henry of Lancaster, Blanche’s half-brother, brings her news of an arranged marriage to Sir Thomas Prescott, Constable of the Tower of London. Although she smells cruelty on him, Blanche agrees to marry Thomas in the hopes that her influence may help better the lives of Geoff and all England’s villeins.

But soon, the peasants’ discontent turns to revolt. Though her heart is of the people, Blanche’s nobility makes her an enemy to the rebels. To save herself and Henry from the executioner’s ax, Blanche must use every power at her disposal, even those she once considered a curse.



About the Author

 

 J.E. Rizzo is a life-long history fanatic and writer of historical fiction, and her work can be found in Vanity Fair, The Boston Globe, The Guardian, The Tudor Times, Tudor Life Magazine, Scary Mommy, and Ultrarunning Magazine. Rizzo won Manuscript Academy’s Agent Choice Award in 2024, and her article Past and Precedence: Abortion Law in the Middle Ages and Its Use to Overturn Roe v. Wade won History Inquiry’s Medieval History Writing Challenge.

By day, Rizzo works in Human Resources—a field offering more than ample opportunity to observe the follies and fancies of humankind. Before her career in HR, Rizzo worked as an opera singer, a professional baker, and a dog walker. These days, when not writing she can be found running ultramarathons through the forests and mountains of New England, knitting, reading, sewing, baking, or performing any number of (what some might call) old-lady hobbies. She also keeps busing caring for her two children and forty-seven houseplants, making her husband carry heavy things and cook her gourmet meals, and rehabilitating her rescue dog and semi-feral ginger cat.

 

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Monday, August 10, 2026

The Duke's Runaway Omega Teaser #rabtbooktours




LGBTQ+ Historical Romance, MPreg, Mystery & Suspense

Date Published: August 14, 2026

 



Phillip’s on the run, with not just one but two alphas on his trail.

 

Raised as an alpha, Phillip’s unexpected manifestation as an omega turns his life upside down. His father demands a handfasting, insisting Phillip be mated to whichever alpha wins the day with their pheromones. But when the triumphant alpha turns out to be his school friend Everett, Phillip realizes they are fated mates. However, as a diminished omega, his chances of bearing Ev’s children are slim. Heartbroken, Phillip flees to London.

Everett never expected to be Duke of Harriford. His title brings a slew of distasteful marriage and handfasting offers. The latest invitation for his old friend Phillip shocks Ev into accepting. Phillip is everything he remembers and more, and Ev soon finds himself responding to the potent scent of Phillip’s pheromones. When his mate runs, Ev questions whether their feelings are true, or merely the bond of alpha and omega. Despite his fears, he’s determined to find Phillip and bring him home.

As Ev searches London, Phillip questions the wisdom of his choices. His plans have begun to unravel rather spectacularly. To start with, he’s pregnant, the one thing he thought he’d never be. Worse, there’s an alpha hunting him -- and it’s not Ev.

 

EXCERPT

 

Yorkshire, 1811

Lord Phillip Tyerman stared through the barred windows of his tower room at the parade of men and women summoned by his father. All of them were well-heeled and every one of them was looking to make a prestigious match with the earl’s eldest son. The earl’s omega son, who was unable to inherit either lands or title. The earl’s useless son, who wasn’t even a full-fledged omega. Just a not-quite-beta whose first presentation had caused no scandal, lured no lusty alphas, and could have been passed off as little more than being in his second puberty. Not even the beta servants of the household had realized anything was amiss. Only his youngest sister had noticed. It had been Philomena, who was now heir to their father’s estate at fifteen, thanks to her unexpected and early manifestation as a dominant alpha. Lovely Phil, whose patrician nose had wrinkled as though a bad odor had just filled the air.

“What a dreadful stink! Have the oranges gone over?”

Phillip could hear it even now, a full year hence, and it still rankled to the point where he’d taken to wearing a strong sandalwood fragrance to avoid smelling like rotted fruit. His father’s shocked look had likewise never left his mind. The forbidding expression on the earl’s face had been bad enough, but Phillip’s subsequent banishment to the tower room from the heir-presumptive suite had cut even deeper. He had been nearly twenty-two at the time, grown tall and strong. He was the spitting image of his father. Everyone, even his omega mother, had assumed he’d manifest soon as an alpha, and his delicate sister as an omega.

The tall and strong young man had become the omega, and the petite, delicate, and winsome girl had become the alpha. God most certainly had a peculiar sense of humor, at least insofar as the Tyerman family was concerned.

With a snort of irritation at the memory, Phillip turned his attention back to the courtyard below, where the last equipage had rolled up to the front steps. The livery on the carriage door proclaimed the occupant to be a member of the Harrifords. Intrigued despite himself, Phillip opened the windowpanes and peered through the bars, hoping for a glimpse of whomever it was that had come from that prestigious family to gawk at the sale of the Tyermans’ awkward omega son. Of course, even if the occupant proved to be Ev Harriford, Phillip fully intended to be well away from this house long before arrangements could be made to pursue a match with any of these honored guests.

He sighed and turned away from the window, leaving it ajar to bring in fresh air to a room that was stuffy even in the dead of winter. He had no fear of his scent drawing unwelcome attention from all those alphas despite being near his heat. His pheromones were practically indiscernible, as even in heat they never carried much beyond his immediate person. The doors to the tower stair were securely locked, and only his mother and his beta valet carried the keys. He felt no qualms about allowing the room to air out while he dressed for this ridiculous charade.

Well, said charade would come to an abrupt and hopefully embarrassing end for his father. Phillip had a small bag packed with the most minimal necessities safely stowed in the bottom of the wardrobe. He’d return to his rooms to “refresh himself” when the alphas retired for brandy and banter, and he’d make his escape then, while his father negotiated with them for Phillip’s eventual marriage to the highest bidder.

The tiniest tremor ran along his spine. It seemed his estrus had chosen to come in a timely manner. At least he would not have to spend several days in isolation waiting for it to arrive so the festivities could begin in earnest. The mere thought of said festivities sent another shiver through him, this one of disgust.

A brisk tap sounded on the door, followed by the sound of keys in the lock and his mother’s quiet entrance. She gave him a mildly disapproving glance upon seeing him still in his ordinary daywear. “You should always lock the inner door, Phillip,” she chided him. “You ought to be in your tails by now. You have a scant half hour before dinner. Your father wishes you to meet the guests tonight prior to the formal ceremony on Saturday.”

“Ceremony!” Phillip winced as the word came out in shocked tones. “What ceremony?! I thought this was the usual idiotic dinner party series so he can twist the arms of his alpha friends and convince one of them to marry me to their offspring --”

“No, dear,” his mother interrupted with false serenity. She smiled at him, the attempt obviously meant to soothe, yet the smile did not reach her eyes. “The earl has decided to make this a formal handfasting ceremony, to ensure the chosen candidate does not hand you the mitten after. So only the most acceptable and honorable suitors were invited. If you don’t find anyone particularly to your liking, the earl will decide who wins the right to bond with you.”

The earl will decide. His mother’s use of his father’s title told Phillip that Lady Winifred Tyerman did not support this extraordinary decision. It also told Phillip that his father had chosen not to leave the critical matter of his awkward son to chance or romantic feelings. His thrice-damned sire would pick the person who would control Phillip for the rest of his life. Then the true significance of his mother’s words penetrated the fog engendered by the word “ceremony.”

“A handfasting? What on earth are you on about?” Phillip cursed himself for the shake in his voice.

Handfasting was an ancient custom, very much out of use, as it used a bonding bite to ensure the omega couldn’t flee with another alpha or beta. But to do so in this day? The handfasting ceremony included a public bite, binding the omega to the alpha forever, socially and physically, even if the alpha chose to marry someone else. While the ceremony wasn’t precisely outlawed, it was frowned upon as outré and generally reserved only for omegas of wealthy families perilously close to the end of their breeding years.

And this was to be his fate? He’d be damned first.

 

 

About the Author

Autumn grew up loving history, mythology, and all things Japanese, not necessarily in that order. This eclectic love affair has bled over into her writing, and her stories are always well spiced with the taste of Japan, strange mythological beasties, or the lords and ladies of the ton. Sometimes all three, leading to dark desires and forbidden loves.

And after all, dangerous passions should lead to uninhibited love.

 

Author’s Website

Author on Facebook

Follow Autumn on BookBub


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


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Tuesday, July 14, 2026

The Beauty of Individual Things Book Blitz #rabtbooktours



Historical Fiction / Jazz Age Romance

Date Published: 07-14-2026

Publisher: Mission Point Press



The Beauty of Individual Things follows Margot Andrews, a young American woman swept from New York high society into the dazzling yet fractured world of 1920s London. When the transactional demands of privilege collide with betrayal and violence, leaving her disillusioned and adrift, she escapes to the freshwater shoreline of lost childhood summers.

With her past unrecoverable and her future uncertain, Margot searches for a different life amid Detroit’s dynamic and monied Prohibition era—with its yacht races, rumrunners, and industrial might. Set against a city on the rise, she must navigate her family’s ruthless pursuit of social standing, the magnetic pull of charismatic boat racer Ellis James, and the relentless echoes of her past. The story explores the weight of loneliness and the personal cost of love and reinvention as Margot decides whether to remain a fragile ornament of her family’s design or forge an identity that is beautiful, imperfect, and entirely her own.


About the Author

 

 Karen Thomas Yoo was born and raised in Grosse Pointe, Michigan. She graduated from the University of Michigan and received an MBA from Duke University. When she isn't writing, she can usually be found in her garden or on a paddleboard in Lake Michigan. A mother of three grown children, she lives in Grosse Pointe with her husband. This is her first novel.


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Tuesday, June 23, 2026

The Beauty of Individual Things Teaser #rabtbooktours



Historical Fiction / Jazz Age Romance

Date Published: 07-14-2026

Publisher: Mission Point Press



The Beauty of Individual Things follows Margot Andrews, a young American woman swept from New York high society into the dazzling yet fractured world of 1920s London. When the transactional demands of privilege collide with betrayal and violence, leaving her disillusioned and adrift, she escapes to the freshwater shoreline of lost childhood summers.

With her past unrecoverable and her future uncertain, Margot searches for a different life amid Detroit’s dynamic and monied Prohibition era—with its yacht races, rumrunners, and industrial might. Set against a city on the rise, she must navigate her family’s ruthless pursuit of social standing, the magnetic pull of charismatic boat racer Ellis James, and the relentless echoes of her past. The story explores the weight of loneliness and the personal cost of love and reinvention as Margot decides whether to remain a fragile ornament of her family’s design or forge an identity that is beautiful, imperfect, and entirely her own.


Excerpt


No one tells a young woman that things usually happen because of money, sex, or power. We learn it on our own. Polite girls go on to elegantly suppress the notion, but most know it, and I was nothing if not polite. It was different for Grace. She was a Maxwell. It wasn’t in their nature to suppress things. They blew them up.

An early lesson remains etched in my mind. It was a summer day in 1913. The Maxwells had secured a white clapboard weekly rental on the shores of Elk Lake, tucked among the rolling farmland and evergreen forests of northern Michigan.

The screen door slammed. I shaded my eyes as Uncle Fred crossed a narrow strip of beach, wearing a faded black-and-white-striped bathing costume.

“You’ll burn, Fred,” Aunt Lou clucked from her canvas sling chair under the shade of a lurid yellow umbrella.

Cousin Grace doubled over, shrieking with laughter. “You look like a ghost,” she sputtered. I suppressed my giggles by intently staring at a beached canoe.

Uncle Fred hadn’t brought any alcohol on that vacation.

“It’s called drying out,” Grace had whispered one night after we were tucked away in our shared bed. “The booze turns dusty and blows away … or something.”

I never saw the dust, but for two or three rocky days Uncle Fred kept to his room, scolding us through the door to lower our voices. Then one bright morning, the dust cleared. All breakfast table chatter quieted as he stood at the head of the table, bright-eyed and eager to lead us on bracing outdoor excursions involving tree identification—white pine versus red—campfires, and fish brought home on stringers. I felt sorry for the fish, but they were delicious.

Now, after nodding in acceptance of his daughter’s ribbing, Uncle Fred called to me, “Margot, I’ll see you at the end of the dock.”

I immediately stopped giggling. I had been forbidden from docks and floating canoes because I didn’t know how to swim. At ten years old, I was mortified by this humiliating precaution yet too frightened to do anything constructive about it.

Aunt Lou had dismissed all petulant objections. “The water doesn’t care, child. It’ll drown you all the same.”

 

About the Author

 

 Karen Thomas Yoo was born and raised in Grosse Pointe, Michigan. She graduated from the University of Michigan and received an MBA from Duke University. When she isn't writing, she can usually be found in her garden or on a paddleboard in Lake Michigan. A mother of three grown children, she lives in Grosse Pointe with her husband. This is her first novel.


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Wednesday, May 27, 2026

Dona Nobis Pacem Teaser #rabtbooktours




Historical Gay Romance

Date Published: May 29, 2026

Publisher: Changeling Press

 


Dona Nobis Pacem. God Grant Us Peace.

 

Voiceless Donnell and defrocked priest Nathan are outcasts and strangers at the turn of the century. Despite his handicap, Donnell has made a life for himself as a businessman and owner of a saloon. His heart goes out to those whom life has dealt an unhappy hand. When Nathan arrives in this former gold-rush town, horsewhipped and ill to the point of collapse, Donnell is the only one to offer help.

Barely ordained before being accused of unnatural desires, Nathan has been sent to travel a faux road to Damascus as penance. He did not expect to survive the trek, and longed for the peace he might find when his body gave up the fight.

He never expected to meet someone like Donnell. Despite his lack of voice, Donnell is the teacher Nathan has hungered for all his life, and the lover he never dared seek out. Triumphing over a lifetime's worth of threatened damnation will not be easy to overcome, but Donnell's not giving up. The passion they share is what both men have always craved, but never found. When they're discovered, standing together is the only thing that will save them both.

 


EXCERPT

 

In a fit of optimism, some enterprising settler twenty-odd years ago had named this patch of land "Shady Grove." The name hadn't stuck longer than the first summer, arid heat scorching the life out of anything the daft fellow had tried to plant, and carrying away his wife and children.

After that, or so the story went, the settler had cursed his homestead with the new name of "Hell."

When gold was found not far west in a puny stream, the name changed yet again to "El Dorado." Though that lasted no longer than the rush of miners who picked, panned and mined away most of the precious metal.

When the gold was mostly gone and civilization caught up with the roughneck men who'd blazed through in search of riches, there came bankers, lawyers and doctors, along with their pretty wives and dainty daughters. Amongst themselves, they'd formed a quaint city council, elected a mayor, nominated a marshal, and rechristened this hole in the ground as "Nazareth."

Those whose tongues weren't corseted by the niceties observed in polite society still called the former boomtown "Hell."

As for Donnell, he called it home, and had since the day he was born, a silent infant who'd opened his mouth to wail, but made almost no sound, not then and rarely ever afterward. The best he could manage was a sort of scale of breathing -- a whistle, a shush, a sigh. He'd never spoken a proper word. At least his hearing was top-notch.

Music was Donnell's voice instead, tickled out through the ivories of the old upright piano he'd paid a considerable sum in gold dust to have shipped from Chicago. Within the safe haven of Treighton's saloon, Donnell had placed that piano facing the street, where he'd have a fine view through the mosquito netting over the window when he played.

He could arrange Treighton's however he wanted, no questions asked. Owner's rules and that owner would be him.

Music wasn't his only skill. He was a favored son of Lady Luck, and the cards danced to his tune. Those who thought a mute man was simple, and an easy cheat at faro, often found themselves losing big.

He'd given up the game after winning Treighton's, though. No sense in pushing his luck too far.

A man who'd call himself satisfied with his lot in life, Donnell caressed the piano keys, a jingling tune flowing smooth and sweet as quality whiskey under his mastery of the music. He let the corner of his mouth quirk upward with dry humor. Many were they who'd claimed the son of a whore, muteness aside, would never make anything of his life. They'd been wrong, too.

Did they accept his good fortune with grace? Hell, no. The "proper" folks of Nazareth scorned him still, and always would. Too good for the likes of him and his saloon.

Thank God for sinners, eh?

* * *

A sudden clamor rose from the dusty, uneven street outside, usually quiet and deadly dull during the morning hours while laborers and leftover miners toiled, polite society occupied themselves with polite works, and gamblers slept off their night's fun. Attention captured, Donnell peered through the mosquito netting over his window.

Soon enough, the source of the commotion came into view. Donnell raised one eyebrow, intrigued. A tall, lean man, far too thin for his height. He was dressed in the tattered remnants of a once-respectable shirt, now missing its collar and cuffs, and formerly sturdy denim trousers, with no hat on his head nor shoes on his feet nor a coat on his back. Bleached-out hair stringy from lack of washing and long enough to be caught up in a queue hung over his face and tangled across his eyes.

Donnell leaned forward, instantly captivated. He'd never seen the equal of those eyes, their color distinct even at this distance. Aqua blue, the shade of summer skies, dulled by hunger and pain, but no less remarkable.

In point of fact, were he to be cleaned up and provided with a few good healthy meals, Donnell guessed this young man would easily steal anyone's heart away. Not least of all his.

Not that anyone knew about his preferences. It was safer that way. He came in for scant questioning about his lack of female companionship, as most thought if his tongue didn't work then neither would his cock.

Donnell abandoned those thoughts and focused on the beautiful -- yes, beautiful -- young man instead, a far more pleasant diversion. He'd no stubble on his cheeks or chin, both badly sunburned. Young, then. Tall and gangly enough that at a guess Donnell would have put him in his late teens, no more than twenty, not so far Donnell's junior.

A man could make quite a lot of himself in twenty years plus change. He could raise himself a fine establishment like Donnell's, or he could end up staggering filthy and starving down a dusty, badlands street with children and bad-tempered dogs jeering him every barefooted step of the way.

Donnell frowned when the young man staggered, swaying alarmingly before righting himself. That didn't seem to be clumsiness, but rather weariness. Perhaps illness?

"Drunk," Bettina sniffed, peering past Donnell. She might work in a saloon, but she had no patience with men who behaved badly when they'd had too much of the grape and grain. She didn't scold like the holy men, no, she tore strips off their hides and nailed them to the wall, and they loved her for it.

Barely hearing her, Donnell continued to track the man's progress. Seeming to ignore the rabble jeering at him, he came to a stop and stood up as straight as he could, attempting to brush dust, mud and worse off his clothes, smoothing them down. He dragged his hair out of his face with hands that shook minutely and gazed up the length of the street still to go.

The quiet despair in his eyes struck a chord in Donnell's heart, reverberating with a sense of hollow misery. Here was a man who'd fallen as far as he could go, with a trail of heartbreak behind him that stretched out for as many miles as he'd walked.

Donnell sat back and drummed his fingers on his knees. Poor bastard.

Enough kind souls had helped Donnell in his day. He owed this poor fellow no less.

 

About the Author

Willa Okati (AKA Will) is made of many things: imagination, coffee, stray cat hairs, daydreams, more coffee, kitchen experimentation, a passion for winter weather, a little more coffee, a whole lot of flowering plants and a lifelong love of storytelling. Will's definitely one of the quiet ones you have to watch out for, though he -- not she anymore -- is a lot less quiet these days.

 

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

 

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RABT Book Tours & PR

Tuesday, April 7, 2026

A Cowboy's Dilemma Book Blitz #rabtbooktours




Western Historical Fiction

Date Published: 08-19-2025

Publisher: Artemesia Publishing, LLC



As the Kelly Can Saga continues, Charlie and his wife, Susan, must deal with continued conflict as they attempt to grow their fledgling Kelly Oil Company. Like many other oilmen, Charlie and his partner, Hank Thomas, want to acquire oil and mineral rights to the Osage Nation’s land in northern Oklahoma. This leads them to confrontations with an adversary from their recent past. Susan’s life is imperiled by those evil characters. How will her cowboy come to her rescue and deal with dangerous direct threats on their lives? Charlie rapidly steps up to the challenge as any past Top Hand at the world-famous Miller’s 101 Ranch would.

 


About the Author



E. Joe Brown is an award-winning author of novels, short stories, and memoirs. His current projects include a series of historical fiction novels set in his native Oklahoma. Publication of the first book in the series is scheduled for August 2022. His memoir ‘Mickey and Me’ about meeting his hero, Mickey Mantle, is now featured in the National Baseball Hall of Fame. Joe currently serves as President of New Mexico Westerners, an Advisor to the SWW Board of Directors, and is a member of Western Writers of America and Military Writers Society of America. 


He supports his love of music and performance through active membership in the International Western Music Association. He served on the organization’s board of directors for three years. In 2013, Governor Susanna Martinez appointed him a New Mexico Music Commissioner.


 Veterans Portrait Project, Military, USAF


Photo Courtesy of
Stacy Pearsall's
Veterans Portrait Project


Joe concluded his lifetime military and civil service careers upon retirement on June 30, 2010. An exciting multi-faceted career of firsts included leading the USAF Range Instrumentation Team to aid the original NASA Space Shuttle program. His team helped create the Shuttle Worldwide Network and supported the first six missions of Space Shuttle Columbia. As the Air Force Flight Test Center Project Manager, he guided the design, construction, and implementation of the Benefield Anechoic Facility on Edwards AFB. The facility tests state-of-the-art electronic warfare systems in a secure environment. His final assignment was in direct support of the two-star Major General at Edwards AFB where he advised on strategic planning to assure future readiness to test USAF and Department of Defense weapons systems. 


An alumnus of the Oklahoma State University College of Engineering, Joe continued his engineering education during both his military and civil service careers. He completed coursework at the University of Colorado, Georgia Institute of Technology, George Washington University, University of Tennessee, Chapman University, and the University of California at Los Angeles. He later completed a BS in Business Management at Phoenix University and the Executive MBA program with a Strategic Planning emphasis from Webster University.


Joe has been married to his wife Linda for over fifty years, and their sons have given them five beautiful grandchildren.

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RABT Book Tours & PR

Monday, December 8, 2025

Born Like This Guest Post and Review #SilverDaggerTours

 


She went back in time to rescue him.

She never counted on falling in love…


Born Like This

Maizemerized Book 2

by Maggie Blackbird

Genre: Historical Paranormal Time-Travel Romance



She went back in time to rescue him.  She never counted on falling in love…

Alma Whitecrow prefers hunting and fishing with men, not romancing them. But hearing about the roguishly handsome coureur de bois, who saved her sister from the Dakota, haunts her thoughts and dreams. Well-versed in surviving the wilds, Alma resolves to travel to the mid-eighteenth century, as her sister once did, to save the man from impending death.

Charlot Baudelaire thumbs his nose at society’s expectations, content living as a loner, trading with people he calls the Saulters. If he needs a woman for the night, there is always a willing maiden. What he doesn’t expect is a spunky and stubborn female warrior to challenge him.

Charlot is not the man Alma dreamed about, and Alma is not the kind of woman Charlot pursues. But the longer they are together, the more drawn to each other they become, until Alma faces the biggest decision of her life. Stay with a man who may never reciprocate her love, or return to her Ojibway home and bland existence.

 

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Alma had expected to step into a battle. Reality set in. The only killing she’d done was animals when hunting with Grandpa. But if she didn’t shoot, she risked her own life and Theodore’s as she faced six Dakota sporting arrows.

Theodore growled, waiting for her command.

The Dakota didn’t fire at her, though. They seemed to fire everywhere else, hollering in a language she couldn’t comprehend. The fear in their eyes indicated she’d terrified them.

Maybe they assumed she was a ghost when she’d emerged through the flickering flames.

As the Dakota scattered, she tracked their moccasin footprints, but one set stood out. Grandpa had told her about the spread of the toes, and these toes weren’t spread. They came from a person who walked in shoes or boots. Someone who later in life had switched to the footwear of the Indigenous people.

She followed the footprints with Theodore beside her, sniffing. She used the end of her rifle to move aside the thick brush, which was why her homeland was called the bush at her reserve. There was nothing to call a forest or woods about Northwestern Ontario.

The thick underbrush kept trying to snag her clothing. Clothing she longed to remove. When she left home, she’d donned an outfit for a cold Halloween night. But summer bloomed here. She could remove her jacket since she had a sweater underneath, and beneath that a tank top.

A groan came about ten feet from her, and she aimed her rifle in the direction of the sound. She moved through the many twigs and branches but didn’t spot a blood trail. Whatever lay beneath the berry bush had been hit there.

Another groan.

Whoever was hurt wasn’t an animal. That was the sound of a human being. Maybe one of the Dakota?

She edged in closer until she caught the moccasins sticking out, along with breeches. This wasn’t a Dakota or warrior from the village under attack.

Her heart held its beat.

Had she found Charlot?

Setting

While growing up as a little girl, my family was involved in baseball, so we’d head for the local baseball diamond at The Point (a peninsula on the lake).  While my mother sat in the stands to watch, and my father coached the team, me, along with my brother and sisters, along with our cousins, would tear off to the replica fort situated right beside the baseball game happening.

I had no idea at the time that the fort was once a trading post during the fur trade in Canada.  Nor did I realize where we played was a big gathering spot for my Ojibway ancestors to meet in the spring to celebrate the Midewiwin.  From what I researched, over a thousand of them would gather there to celebrate “seeking the good life.”

I also didn’t understand that the waterways were the “roads” for my people to travel.  Most people associate Indigenous people with horses and teepees.  That is not so for the Woodlands people who were all about the wigwam and canoe.  The French fur traders, and eventually the Voyageurs also traveled these waterways.  The lake and river were part of The Voyageurs Highway.

The first explorer through my land was Jacques de Noyon who travelled these waterways as far back as 1688.  Then there was Pierre Gaultier de Varennes, sieur de La Vérendrye who established the first fort in my area (the local hospital is named after him).  The replica fort came afterward and was rechristened “Fort Frances” after Lady Frances Simpson, the wife of the Governor of the Hudson's Bay Company, George Simpson.

So yes, writing about this area came naturally to me for the Maizemerized series.  I wanted to explore my homeland from the Rainy Lake and Rainy River to Lake of the Woods.

Free use image from Open Clipart Vectors
 
Ornery Owl's Review
 
Five out of Five Stars
 
This story kept me reading! The pace is snappy and the plot is unique. If you like time travel romance and your favorite tropes include grumpy/sunshine and enemies to lovers with definite sexual chemistry, this is the story for you. Only one bed--or bedroll? You got it!
 
I found Alma to be a relatable and emotionally compelling heroine. She is practical, plain-spoken, and proud of her hunting skills. Charlot is well-cast as the grumpy component of the grumpy/sunshine pair with his rough edges, roguish charm, and soft center. I felt Alma's struggle to decide whether to remain in the past, considering everything she'll lose if she does so. 
 
My only complaint is that the time travel rules are somewhat vague. Is the path between eras only open at Halloween? Is it limited to the corn-maze's reappearance? This wasn't a big enough bone of contention to cause me to remove a star from my rating. The world-building and the strength of the characters and their connection carry the story. 
 
The steamy encounters between Alma and Charlot make this book appropriate only for adult readers. The scenes are beautifully written and those who enjoy explicit moments in their romance will appreciate them. 




Born For This

Maizemerized Book 1



She’s always been obsessed with her ancestors, and now he’s offering her a chance to live with them... forever.

Second-year university student Edie Whitecrow gobbles up each course on Indigenous studies. If only she could experience the lives of her Anishinaabe ancestors instead of reading about them. On her way to a Halloween party decked out as a historical Ojibway maiden, she spies a corn maze in a spot known to be barren.

A scarecrow figure beckons Edie to enter with the enticing offer of making her biggest wish come true. She jumps at the chance and finds herself in the past, face to face with the man who haunts her dreams—the handsome brave Thunder Bear. He claims he’s spent twelve years waiting for Gitche Manidoo to send her to him.

Life in the eighteenth century isn’t what Edie romanticized about, though. When her conscience is tested, she must choose between the modern day or the world of her descendants—where the man she was born for resides.

 

What readers are saying:

“This novel is true to history while still spinning a lovely tale of love. I highly recommend it to anyone who loves historical and time travel romances.” –Goodreads Reviewer


“The story had me glued to the pages from start to finish. Loved and recommend this book.” –B&N Reviewer


“Based on prior reading from the author, I knew this would be a great book. I had no idea just how much I’d love it.” –BookBub Reviewer


“Once I started reading, I was not putting this book down.” –Goodreads Reviewer

 

This is one of the best romance novels I’ve ever read in my entire life. This book will pull you in full force and make you feel so many different emotions.” –Goodreads Reviewer

 

 

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Thunder Bear nodded. “Fire Woman. Is it not an appropriate name? The flames did not burn you. Fire is your friend. Your spirit guide.”

“I want to be honest.” She wet her plush mouth with the color riper than raspberries. “I have been educated in the ways of the white men. Where I come from, we live like white men.”

“I know you do. It is in your speech, your movement, your behavior.” He reached out and touched her bare arm that possessed delicate strength beneath the smooth flesh he palmed. “You are here to become what you are meant to truly be. We will teach you, if you are willing.”

“I am more than willing. In the white man’s world, I am learning everything about the People. I have studied the People ever since I was a little girl.”

“I know you have. It is why you came.” He could not resist letting his palm move along her arm. Beneath the skin he stroked, her slight muscle flexed.

She wet her lips.

The urge to claim her mouth was a test of his restraint. They’d only met this morning, and he must go slow. To slide his mouth over hers after just meeting was not how a warrior conducted himself. Yet, the way she’d drew her tongue along her lower lip was caressing and licking him beneath his breechclout. Her innocent gesture might as well have been her nails raking his backside, her hands boldly exploring his arms, and her breasts melting against his chest.

She was aptly named, because a fire danced in her sparkling dark eyes. A fire of desire. A fire of need. A fire flickering with mesmerization in her gaze touching his face.

He stifled the groan aching to leave his throat.

She seemed to drag her gaze to the dark water. If where they stood was better lit, he’d probably witness redness on her cheeks.

“What is it?”

Again, she wet her lips. “I… Maybe I should go back?”

A punch seemed to knock his gut. “Return? Now?”

“No.” She shook her head. “I mean the wigwam. Not the…the…”

“The dancing flames?”

She nodded.

Relief loosened the knots of his shoulder muscles. He didn’t believe in restraining any maiden, but if she had dared to run for where she had come from, he probably would have tossed her over his shoulder and carted her back to the camp. Now that he had found what he’d waited twelve years to capture, he wasn’t letting her go.

Somehow, he had to help her find her courage to survive with them. She was destined to be here.







An Ojibway from Northwestern Ontario, Maggie resides in the country with her husband and their fur babies, two beautiful Alaskan Malamutes.  When she’s not writing, she can be found pulling weeds in the flower beds, mowing the huge lawn, walking the Mals deep in the bush, teeing up a ball at the golf course, fishing in the boat for walleye, or sitting on the deck at her sister’s house, making more wonderful memories with the people she loves most.

 

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