Jezzie wasn’t thrilled with her brother’s idea of entering a scavenger hunt sponsored by humans. It wasn’t as though winning was going to be difficult. After all, sneaking around and stealing from humans was one of the things fairies did best.
Getting around the disapproving Fairy Elders, however, would require a bit more creativity.
What’s life without a challenge?
Mitch Harlow is a human, and he’s considering buying Otherworld Entertainment. Ever since the portal to the Otherworld collapsed and infused their world with magical creatures, the humans had been clamoring to learn more about their newest visitors—especially the elusive and secretive fairies. Their newest scavenger hunt show is a hot commodity, and Mitch is eager to get his hands on it—and on the feisty fairy who’s intent on causing trouble.
When Jezzie’s brother mysteriously goes missing and the contest sponsors refuse to release her from her contract, Jezzie’s determined to make them regret their decision—even if it costs her everything.
Unfortunately, Jezzie’s brother isn’t the first fairy to disappear.
Someone’s hunting fairies, and it looks like Jezzie’s next.
Born to Fly by Jamie A. Waters Publication date: July 23 2020 Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance
Jamie A. Waters is an award-winning, fantasy and science-fiction writer. Her first novel was a winner of the Readers’ Favorite Award in Science-Fiction/Fantasy Romance and the CIPA EVVY Award in Science-Fiction.
Jamie currently resides in Florida with two neurotic dogs who enjoy stealing socks. When she’s not pursuing her passion of writing, she’s usually trying to learn new and interesting random things (like how to pick locks or use the self-cleaning feature of the oven without setting off the fire alarm). In her downtime, she enjoys reading on her Kindle, playing computer games, painting, or acting as a referee between the dragons and fairies currently at war inside her closet.
Even Drake Chandali. The aging process that twists all unmated dragon shifters’ bodies into something useless has taken hold of his body centuries early. A mate could have reversed the process, but now it’s too late. To protect his team of enforcers, he leaves, and comes face to face with the woman he’d thought was human when he saved her from a fire months before.
Except she’s not human. She’s a mate.
Camilla Carrillo almost lost her family to wildfire. To discover she’s fated to mate a creature made of flame and rage, and become one herself, should be terrifying. But somehow a rightness settles inside her, especially when she’s around the glowering red dragon shifter who wants nothing to do with her.
When Drake learns Cami bears his mark—the same mark as the High King—he refuses to believe she’s meant to be his. It’s too late. How could he turn Cami only to take her with him to the grave? At the same time, he can’t walk away. Hiding her from the corrupt, rotting High King might be the last honorable thing Drake ever does with the little time he has left.
With a combination of glares, dirty looks, and curiosity filled glances, mostly from the women, they dispersed, walking away to disappear down various human-sized corridors that all met in this place.
Except Cami didn’t get the memo to leave. Drake’s voice, the familiarity of those deep, rough tones, and something else, some strange awareness, drove her feet forward into his path.
The second his gaze landed on her, Drake stilled, though his expression gave nothing away.
“Shit,” he muttered.
“Camilla?” Rune asked beside him, a million questions in his tone.
Only she didn’t look at him. Instead she stared at Drake, scrunching up her eyes like viewing at him out of focus might help.
He remained still and silent while she studied him.
A harshly handsome face stared back at her—a slash of cheekbones, strong jaw shadowed in dark stubble, jet black hair, though instead of the warmth of dark eyes she would have expected, his were an unusual, intense reddish-brown shade.
Red dragon, a vague part of her mind identified. You could always tell by the eyes.
But, while Drake’s dark glower should’ve had her heading in the other direction—that bite sharper with him, darker—fear was not what she felt. What she felt was…almost like gratitude. Trust.
A warm little sun spot somewhere in the region of her heart and a voice inside that whispered. Only she couldn’t catch the words.
A brightening around her told her that the internal glow at the center of her chest had taken on a life of its own. The way his gaze dropped then narrowed told her she wasn’t wrong. Sparks would follow any minute now, but she didn’t care, for once.
She needed to know first. “Have we—”
Suddenly, Drake pitched forward, one hand to his knees, his breathing turning harsh and erratic.
Alarm pierced that warm familiarity. “Are you okay?”
She bent over and instinctively put a hand on his back in a gesture meant to comfort. Immediately he tensed, his muscles going so rigid under her palm that she jerked her hand away.
Only he didn’t snap at her, or straighten, or make a sound of any sort. Instead, the man fell to the floor in a tangled heap of limbs, convulsing for several agonizingly long seconds, before he stopped, laying so still that almost scared her more.
Multi-award-winning paranormal romance author, Abigail Owen, loves plots that move hot and fast, feisty heroines with sass, alpha heroes with heart, a dash of snark, and oodles of sexy shifters! Other titles include wife, mother, Star Wars geek, ex-competitive skydiver, spreadsheet lover, Dr. Seuss quoter, eMBA, organizational guru, Texan, Aggie, and chocoholic.
Abigail grew up consuming books and exploring the world through her writing. She attempted to find a practical career related to her favorite pastime by earning a degree in English Rhetoric (Technical Writing). However, she swiftly discovered that writing without imagination is not nearly as fun as writing with it.
Abigail currently resides in Austin, Texas, with her own personal hero (who she totally married!) and their two children, who are growing up way too fast.
Ever wonder what it’s like to take a walk on the wild side?
Find out as these eleven authors show you as they take you on a journey through their MC Worlds.
See what it’s like to be thrust into the dangerous world of an MC, where brotherhood and loyalty are more than just words.
These eleven authors will have you captivated and wishing to wear one of their MC patches with each word you read.
Kathleen Kelly Wraith noun (in italics) ~ a ghost or ghostlike image of someone, especially one seen shortly before or after their death.
Desired – Natasha Thomas His entire life had always been about three things; his club, his brothers, and his family. Until he met her.
Royally Taken – Elle Boon He’s the protector. Sometimes he walked a fine line between right and wrong, but make no mistake, when shit goes south, he’s the one you’d want to have your back.
Sloth – Kay Maree 1%er, pain, blood, nothing but another nightmare followed by numbness, and the deep dark hole I don’t think I could pull myself out of again.
Havoc’s Temptation – Lauren Firminger Just when they thought the dust was starting to settle, Havoc brings a long lost secret to the surface.
Charon MC – Khloe Wren Blade is forced to learn a lesson when the price for exacting his vengeance becomes higher than he’d ever imagined it would be.
Danger – Penny Blush I am the President of Knights Fury MC; my life has been threatened. I don’t know who to trust. There’s a traitor in my club. Now I need to put my trust in a stranger to help save my club and my life
Diesel’s Choice – Lauren Firminger Would a second chance be too much for me to give him though? He handed me my heart back in pieces once. Would I survive round 2?
Viper – Gemma Arlington One girl in search of her father. One guy willing to help. One interesting and eventful night of passion.
Slade – VR Baucke Tova – Hades Horsemen Club Princess, forbidden temptation, and rule breaker. Slade – Hades Horsemen VP, hot as sin, loyal to the bone, and has finally met his match.
Tank – Ember Raine-Winters Can Tank save Nadia against all odds, or will new revelations take her away?
Executioner – Sammy King An executioner who was forced to grow up with hate in his soul. An innocent girl whose life isn’t what she believed.
Giveaway end November 28th.
The grand prize is:
Ebook copies of both The Dirty Dozen: Vampire Edition and The Dirty Dozen: MC Edition Anthologies
“I love the Angelbound Origins world and just can’t seem to get enough of it!” – The Avid Reader
As the Great Scala, Myla Lewis is the only being who can move Purgatory’s souls to Heaven or Hell. It’s a big job. Too bad Myla goes through assistants faster than a hot knife through brownies. Not that it bothers her much; Myla’s always been a solo fighter.
Then comes the problem of the fading angels. Millions of Heavenly residents are dying. According to a prophecy, the only way Myla can save them is by traveling back in time, meeting King Arthur, and creating her own knights of the round table. The catch? Doing so might end the after-realms in a bloody demonpocalypse.
Myla and her main squeeze, Lincoln, aren’t afraid of taking a few chances (in between kisses). But with so much at risk, the stakes may be too high, even for them. And the biggest challenge of all? Finding those knights.
Because Myla Lewis doesn’t play well with others. At all.
“These books don’t just capture your attention, they straight up demand it. Christina Bauer has created a fascinating and unique world that you do not want to miss out on.” – Bookhalolic Brittany
Christina Bauer thinks that fantasy books are like bacon: they just make life better. All of which is why she writes romance novels that feature demons, dragons, wizards, witches, elves, elementals, and a bunch of random stuff that she brainstorms while riding the Boston T. Oh, and she includes lots of humor and kick-ass chicks, too.
Christina graduated from Syracuse University’s Newhouse School with BA’s in English along with Television, Radio, and Film Production. She lives in Newton, MA with her husband, son, and semi-insane golden retriever, Ruby.
The Brutal Time captured my attention when I read the blurb. I was intrigued to see how the author would spin the legend of King Arthur and Camelot. Then I read that memorable first line and thought to myself, “I am going to love this book.” And guess what, I did.
The Brutal Time is the 6th book in the Angelbound Series. I was a little hesitant to read the book because of that. I am happy to say is that this can be read as a stand-alone book. The author explained Myla and Lincoln’s backstories without getting into the previous books, which I enjoyed. That left me able to focus on the craziness that was going on in this book. And yes, there was a lot of that.
I loved Myla. She was unbelievably snarky and found herself in situations that made me scratch my head. Take, for instance, going to Lucifer’s lab. That set off a chain of events that ended up with her going to the past to save the future (make sense…it didn’t to me at first either). She thought well on her feet too. She was able to come up with last-minute plans that worked. She was just plain awesome!!
I liked that Lincoln was more leveled headed than Myla. He was able to reign her in, well somewhat reign her in. During the fight with the archdemons, Lincoln was willing to do whatever it took to stall them so Myla could come up with a plan. Plus, add in that he was head over heels in love with Myla, and it just made him a complete package.
I loved the author’s retelling of the King Arthur legend. I had no issue imagining King Arthur as a slob. It also made me remember that most myths are usually more fiction than fact.
The storylines in The Brutal Time were well written and fast-paced. There were no dropped storylines or dropped characters. I enjoyed how the author was able to merge the secondary storylines with the main one. It made for a more exciting read.
I loved the secondary characters. They added an extra depth to the story. I also like that Myla’s tail got recognition in the book. That tail was as sassy as she was!!
The end of The Brutal Time was exciting. I say exciting because there was something revealed that made me look forward to the next book!!
I would give The Brutal Time an Older Teen rating. There is no sex. There is mild language. There is violence. I would recommend that no one under the age of 16 read this book.
I would reread The Brutal Time. I would recommend it to family and friends.
**I voluntarily reviewed a complimentary copy of this book**
My name is Dorothy Gale, and I think I might be dead.
When my dog Toto and I got swept up in a twister, we landed in hell. A very colorful hell. Like a rainbow dripping in blood. Now it looks as though this dreadful underworld plagued with vampires, zombies, and shifters will be the site of my eternal damnation.
They say this terrifying land called Oz isn’t hell or purgatory and escape is possible, but first I must survive the journey down the blood-soaked yellow brick road to the only place in Oz where vampires dare not tread—The City of Emeralds.
With enchanted footwear and the help of my three new friends—a friendly zombie, a massive shifter lion, and a heartless axe murderer of evil night creatures (who also happens to be the hottest guy I’ve ever seen)—Toto and I have a chance to make it to the Vampire Free Zone. When we get there, I must convince the most powerful wizard in this magical land of monsters to send us out of this radiant nightmare and back to the world of the living. They say he’s just as frightening as this monstrous land, that he detests visitors, and even the most horrifying creatures cower in his presence. But I must seek him out. And when I find him, I’ll do whatever it takes to make him send me home.
Gray everywhere. As I stand on the porch of my aunt and uncle’s home, all I can see is the great gray expanse of prairie on every side. No trees, houses, buildings, people, nothing at all breaks the broad sweep of flat gray country that reaches to the edge of the gray sky in every direction. The sun scorched the plowed fields into a dusty, gray mass that expands to the horizon line, the endless gloom broken only by the little black shadows of the fissures running through it like the marbling of a corpse.
Even the grass is dead and gray—the hot sun singed the blades until they were the same lifeless gray color that blankets everything. Years ago, the house was a pristine white, but the torrid summer sun burned and blistered the paint and the heavy winter rains battered it away, and now the house is as weathered and gray as everything else here. It’s fitting for what it’s like to live here in Middle of Nowhere, Kansas. It looks like what it is—bleak, leached of any color, any excitement, anything interesting at all—drained of life. Gray is gray is gray is my life. It surrounds me from all sides, all the time. And it sucks. Thanks a lot, climate change.
I came to live with my Uncle Henry and Aunt Emily on a crappy little farm when my parents died in a car accident. I was thirteen. Because Emily was the only family I had left, she got stuck with me. She could have refused me and left me as a ward of the state, but she was kind enough to take me in. Even though I don’t share the same connection with Emily and Henry that I did with my parents, they’re still family—the only family I have—so, I may complain about this being the middle of nowhere, but it’s better than being in an orphanage or foster care or some group home. Yeah, their place is tiny, and old, but at least it has four walls, a floor, and a roof.
The two-bedroom farmhouse I live in is as weathered and brittle as the farm it’s set on. One story with no attic and no basement, the only feature it has is a cyclone cellar which we’ve had yet to use since I’ve lived here. It may lack color and any of the luxuries most people in America have these days—cable, wifi, consistent hot water to shower with—but I am grateful I have somewhere to live, even if life here is so gray that the grayness proliferates, turning everything in it to a gray as dry as dust.
When Aunt Emily came here to live with Uncle Henry, she was a young, pretty, vivacious woman with golden hair and bright emerald green eyes—or I thought I remembered her that way. Even she’s gray now. Just like it changed this once green land, the sun and wind have changed her, and her once sparkling green eyes are now dim and muted, tinged with a melancholy gray. Living here in this sweltering, exanimate world has stolen her radiance and left her ashen. It’s exhausted the red from her cheeks and lips, and now they’re pallid and gray too. Once she was curvy and a little plump. Now she’s gaunt and never smiles. Can’t blame her for never smiling, living in this dull, gray crap hole.
When I first came to her, Aunt Emily would startle when I laughed. She’d scream and look at me like I was nuts, shocked I could find anything to laugh at in this gray place. Uncomfortable and bored out of my skull, I’d laugh trying to entertain myself, trying not to let the depression get the best of me, but after being here for four years, I get it now—what is there to laugh about when all that’s here is gray?
Uncle Henry never laughs either. Morning to night, all he does is work hard. If he knows what joy is, he doesn’t let on. From his gray beard to his rough boots, Henry is also gray, stern, and solemn. With a permanent stone face, he almost never speaks. It’s like he’s made of hard, gray stone. If he didn’t work so much trying to make this gray land yield something, I’d think he was stone—a gray statue of a man.
Sometimes I wonder if it’s me that’s gray, or the lens I see the world through. Before my parents died, my life was a bright white, like a pristine sheet of paper wishing for a colorful story to grace its surface. Then the black smear of tragedy struck, and it’s as though the thousands of tears I shed diffused the black that blemished my bright whiteness, spreading it over the unsullied parts like watercolor, leaving my world gray. But I don’t think I’m gray. Not yet. I don’t think it has spread to me yet.
Garten Gevedon lives in New York City with her family. She’s a sci-fi, fantasy, and paranormal author who loves taking fairy tales and turning them inside out. You can visit her online at www.gartengevedon.com.
Seventeen-year-old Ruby Brooks has never had a boyfriend. After moving to small-town La Luna, New Mexico following her mother’s untimely death, boys aren’t even on her radar. Ruby just wants to forget the last horrible year and blend in. But when she discovers an ancient pueblo ruin hidden in the forest behind her house, and meets Ezra, a bitter recluse whose once-perfect face was destroyed in an accident he won’t talk about; Angel, the town’s handsome sheriff’s deputy, and Leo, a stranger who only appears in the forest, Ruby finds herself caught between love, mystery, and other worlds. What happened to Ezra’s face? And why is she so attracted to the one boy in town everyone despises? As Ruby unravels her own powerful connections to both Ezra and the pueblo ruin, she’ll learn surfaces are deceiving. Especially in the heart of New Mexico, where ghosts and legends aren’t always just campfire stories.
After walking through dense stands of pine trees, I follow the remnants of what may have been a trail toward the top of the mountain. Higher up, the pines and junipers dappling the mountainside grow taller, but there aren’t as many. As they thin, small gusts of wind whistle through the forest, echoing through the trees. Otherwise, the forest is completely silent.
Closer to the top of the mountain, the rocky ground levels off and the land spreads across a plateau below the mountain’s peak. Unlike the forest, the plateau is more like a jungle, marked by thick hanging moss and clusters of tall, unidentifiable conifers. Trees stand like sentries several rows deep. Beyond them, fallen logs lie scattered among overgrown shrubs and boulders in circular bands like rings on a tree. I walk through it all, making my way past thick brush into a clearing.
Fresh sap and damp earth assault my nose. Under bright sunlight, large, rough-cut slabs of glittery rock blanket the otherwise bare field. Some lie stacked on top of each other like the crumbling remains of a building. Awestruck, I circle the structure, running my fingers over what looks like a ruin.
“Incredible, isn’t it?”
A voice behind me sends my heart racing toward my throat. I jump, whipping around to find a young man leaning casually against a pine near the clearing’s perimeter, looking off to his left as though listening for something.
Even in the shade, his face glows. He smiles, showing off teeth that gleam like snowflakes between perfect lips. Hair as dark as Liddy’s French roast coffee falls around his face in unruly waves. His features are angular but refined, and his high, rounded cheeks soften the striking juxtaposition.
I blink, then blink again. Ruby. I rub my eyes. You’re hallucinating. But he’s still there, staring at me.
While I gawk, he pushes himself off the tree. “Not many people make it up here.” He smiles broadly.
A soft, purple-hued halo circles his golden irises, catching fire in the sunlight. They settle on me, and my heart stops, completely paralyzed by his faultless storybook features.
I exhale, trying to swallow inconspicuously. “It’s definitely a hike.”
“Who are you?”
“Who am I?” I sputter. “Who are you?”
“Leo.” He grins.
“Ruby.” My name rolls off his tongue with a smooth “R” and a musical lilt. Somehow, he even manages to make it sound appealing. “First time up?”
“Yes. We just moved to La Luna.”
“La Luna,” he repeats. “Welcome.”
“Thanks,” I mumble. Earth to Ruby, I mentally smack myself. Since when has any boy made you senseless?
“You okay?” He smiles like he knows I’m not. Like he knows why I’m not. “Do you want to sit down? The altitude can be a bitch if you’re not used to it.”
“No. I mean, yes, I’m fine. No, I don’t want to sit down. You just really startled me. You should announce yourself next time.”
Jennifer G. Edelson is a writer, trained artist, former attorney, pizza lover, and hard-core Bollywood fan. She has a BFA in Sculpture and a J.D. in law, and has taught both creative writing and legal research and writing at several fine institutions, including the University of Minnesota. Originally a California native, she currently resides in Santa Fe, New Mexico with her husband, kids, and dog, Hubble after surviving twenty-plus years in the Minnesota tundra (but still considers Los Angeles, the Twin Cities, and Santa Fe all home). Other than writing, Jennifer loves hiking, traveling, Albert Camus, Dr. Seuss, dark chocolate, drinking copious amounts of coffee, exploring mysterious places, and meeting new people–if you’re human (or otherwise), odds are she’ll probably love you.
A mystical shape. Three gruesome murders. One reluctant hero. And the only person able to prevent the next murder is an anxiety-prone recruit. Divorced and depressed, Daphne Sites is stunned to learn that a unique empathic ability allows her to identify otherworldly life. So when a secret organization asks for her help, it’s difficult to refuse.
Serik Jalani is the man who must convince the reluctant recruit to assume a chilling mantle of responsibility. There’s only one way to do this. Reel her in slowly. Except Daphne suspects Serik is not being entirely truthful. About the organization. The mission. And even his true identity.
As Daphne attempts to keep her new job secret from two sassy sisters, one jealous ex-husband, and a bimbo Barbie neighbor, she struggles to embrace the mysteries of a cosmic technology and realize her own self-worth.
If Daphne hopes to stop the next murder and stay alive, she must first confront her biggest problem. Herself.
The first in the Merkabah Series about a forbidden love that destroys an ancient legacy.
The Merkabah Temptation: Book 2
An insidious evil threatens to escape into our world and only an empathic professor can stop it. Psychotic episodes spread through a prestigious prep school and the headmistress seeks help from an occult society. Daphne Sites, the newest member, must determine if the mass hysteria has unearthly origins. She’s a bit anxious—this is only her second assignment.
Daphne soon discovers she’s in way over her head after a terrifying encounter with a possessed student. Attacks by thugs and nonhuman enemies don’t bolster her courage or confidence either!
The search for answers sends Daphne to the Amazon jungle, Ecuador’s majestic cathedrals, a creepy hacienda, and a ghoul-infested catacomb. If Daphne hopes to live, she’ll have to figure out the truth from the lies.
Legends, lies, and lust thwart an empathic woman’s attempts to stop a supernatural evil in the second book of the Merkabah Series, where a forbidden love destroys an ancient legacy.
The Merkabah Temptation: Book 3:
A dating website leaves a trail of shriveled bodies and Daphne Sites is on case. But following the string of clues to solve this mystery requires working with the man who broke her heart.
As if that wasn’t difficult enough, a shady magician, a vicious hellhound, a devious predator, and SJ’s ancient enemy are determined to see her fail. Not to mention the other misguided beings—human and otherworldly—that keep Daphne on her empathic toes.
From the city morgue to San Francisco’s Chinatown to a Napa Valley winery, Daphne struggles to find the murderer and learn the truth about SJ and The Watchers.
Legends, lies, and lust thwart an empathic woman’s attempts to stop a supernatural evil in the third book of the Merkabah Series, where a forbidden love destroys an ancient legacy.
SJ’s fingers wrapped around my hand.
An energy pulse surged up my arm. I yanked my hand away, but the rolling wave of warmth went right to my heart and blossomed outward. I rubbed my hand, his touch still lingering on my skin like the faintest tickle.
“You felt it. Good.” He nodded, satisfied, as though I had passed a test. “Relax, Daphne. Look at the people. What do you see?” He pushed my Long Island Iced Tea towards me.
There were drunk people and desperate men and women laughing too loud and trying too hard to have fun. “What am I supposed to see?” I sipped the drink.
SJ’s lips twitched and his brow lifted. “You tell me.”
“I see people,” I shrugged.
“You see more than that.” His brown eyes twinkled from over the rim of his extra dirty martini.
“I see drunk people.”
SJ leaned close, his shoulder touching mine. “I know you sense the feelings and thoughts of others.”
My stomach flip-flopped. “Who are you?”
SJ tapped his chest, flashed his thousand-watt grin. “I’m your guide.”
“For what?” I sucked on the straw, tried to cool the embers burning in my belly. “Am I taking a trip?”
His forefinger made a little air circle in the air. “You see a person’s true form.” SJ withdrew his accusing finger, speared his martini olive with the tiny plastic fork, and popped the olive in his mouth.
This conversation took a sharp left onto Creepy Town Road.
SJ was right about one thing though. I did need this drink. Maybe two.
“What do you mean?” I lifted the glass, drank down the sweet nectar as though it could help me deal with this. With him. With his knowing.
“You’re an empath with special skills.” SJ’s eyes seared like laser beams.
“An empath?” I pondered the ice cubes floating in my Long Island Iced Tea. Was he referring to my over-sensibilities about people? Referring to the bizarre impressions I get about someone? I never told anybody about that. People would think I was crazy. Once in while I let something slip to my sisters, who laughed and said I was weird. When I was a child, Mom accused me of having a fanciful imagination.
Slurp, swallow, repeat. The alcohol took the edge off my rising panic. I stared at my drink, the condensation on the glass as cold as the back of my neck.
SJ’s voice was low, its warmth encouraging and seducing. “An empath feels others’ emotions, but you do more than that. You detect people in their true form. The time has come to perfect this ability.”
I sensed his stare. Determined. Serious. Like a hot poker to my soul. I pretended fascination with the cocktail napkin. Confusion, curiosity, anxiety, and attraction swirled like a tornado around me. I didn’t dare make eye contact.
“We know you perceive strange creatures in human form.”
LZ Marie writes paranormal romance with mystical sass. She uses another pen name for her historical fiction.
LZ lives in southern California and wishes she could get to the beach more often. She adores lattes, swimming, vacations, a great book, and hanging out with her very large family. A intriguing mystery-thriller, action-adventure, historical fiction, or urban fantasy will have her reading into the wee hours of the night.