Cover Reveal

Skye McNeil’s Macha MC series

Title: Doc T
Author: Skye McNeil
Genre: MC Romance
Series: Macha MC, #1
Release Date: July 25, 2020
Publisher: Hot Tree Publishing
Cover Designer: BookSmith Design

Available for preorder
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When danger surrounds a motorcycle club princess and her bad boy protector, will they battle to keep their love alive?

The job is simple. Babysit a MC princess until it’s safe for her to return to Ireland. What Doc T doesn’t expect is to fall for the sassy yet innocent Isadora Walsh… but he can’t have her. It’s the club’s rule.

Isa never knew about her father’s role in Macha MC until it threatened her life. Spirited away to sleepy Snowshoe, Colorado, she craves the bad boy assigned to protect her nearly as much as she’s determined to get away from club life. 

When danger crosses into Snowshoe and alliances are questioned, Isa and Doc are thrust into a MC war that results in bullet holes and kidnapping. Can Doc protect Isa or will the Macha princess do the saving?

 Available for preorder! 

Skye McNeil began writing at the age of seventeen and has been lost in a love affair ever since. During the day, she moonlights as a paralegal at a law firm favouring criminal law.

Skye enjoys writing romantic comedies and cozy mysteries novels that leave readers wanting more and falling in love over and over. She writes contemporary and historical novels ranging from sweet and sassy to steamy and sultry.

Her constant writing companions are two cats and two dogs. When she’s not writing, Skye enjoys spending time with family, photography, volleyball, traveling, and curling up with a cup of coffee and reading.

Sign up for Skye’s newsletter HERE.


Release Blitz


Title: Havesskadi

Series: Dragon Souls, Book One

Author: Ava Kelly

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: February 24, 2020

Heat Level: 1 – No Sex

Pairing: No Romance

Length: 52900

Genre: Paranormal Fantasy, LGBTQIA+, fantasy, paranormal, dragons, mythical creatures, magic, shifters, sentient castles, asexual, slow burn, #ownvoices

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The red dragon is hunting her own. Up in the icy peaks of the northern mountains, Orsie Havesskadi spends his days hiding from her, but eventually he is found and his dragon magic stolen. Cursed to wander the lands as a mortal unless he recovers his magic before twenty-four rising crescents have passed, Orsie embarks on an arduous journey. Spurred by the whispers in his mind, his quest takes him to a castle hidden deep in a forest. Arkeva Flitz, a skilled garrison archer, discovers an abandoned castle in the woods. Trapped there, he spends his days with his two companions, one cruel, the other soothing. One day, a young man arrives at his gates, and soon they are confined by heavy snowfalls and in danger from what slumbers in the shadows of the castle.


Havesskadi Ava Kelly © 2020 All Rights Reserved Full of rich autumn colors, the market square bustles with life, hooves, and shouts and clatter. In the middle near the fountain, an old man stands on a crate waving his cap at the gathering crowd. Orsie hides his face further behind his long hair, with only half a mind to listen to this unexpected storyteller. His voice is loud over the midmorning racket, though, drawing Orsie’s attention. “Hear me, hear me! In an age long ago, far beyond the Quiet Lands, there lived a dragon. He wasn’t a mighty dragon—” Laughter fills the square and covers the voices of the merchants for a while. Orsie frowns, eying the derision that sweeps over many of the onlookers. It’s unpleasant. Orsie remembers from past visits that it’s a rare occurrence for the village to be this animated, but he doesn’t recall its inhabitants being so malcontent. Haumir, sitting at the foot of the Ahrissals’ highest peak, is isolated for most of the year. No trade roads pass through, even though they used to back when the Seaborn were friendlier. Perhaps that’s the reason. Their lives aren’t easy this far up north, but it’s not something Orsie can change. Not really. “—or a mean dragon—” Someone hoots and Orsie stifles a grimace. So much for storytelling. He turns his attention back to the row of tables displaying his favorite autumn fruit. Apples, red and yellow and sometimes green, brought north by the caravans that begin their journeys in the hills of Uvalhort. They carry the excess of the plentiful orchards there, sure to be sold quickly in this barren land. Overpriced, too, by the look of it. Orsie only has a few amethyst shards with him, more than enough to pay for his indulgence, but not too polished and not too pure. He wouldn’t want to raise suspicion. “—but he liked the frost and the cold bite of the highest mountaintops!” Orsie shrugs as he sniffs at an apple. Some dragons do like the snow. He spares a glance at the storyteller. His hat now sits on the ground before him collecting donations, ineffectively. Orsie sighs. Dragons aren’t very loved in these ages. “And his name was Havesskadi, the shadow of the icy peaks. He has graced our village from his home above the clouds,” the old man continues, arms raised to point at the mountain standing tall to the north. “There’s no dragon up there, you old fool,” someone shouts, “or we’d be rich!” The old man waves a hand, annoyed. “Havesskadi lives, you’ll see. He’ll fly down from his castle and shower us with gems.” “Dragons don’t care about us,” the other yells back. “There’s a reason for that,” the old man says. “We hunted them and they hid.” “Don’t remember no hunting,” someone else says, but Orsie stops listening. Shaking his head, he slips out of the square. He can shop for apples later, after the ruckus has died down. Instead, he makes his way through the narrow streets, dropping some of the smaller amethyst shards on doorsteps or windowsills. Not enough to make the dwellers rich, but just what they’d need to push through winter. The cold season comes early, here, the icy winds of October around the corner, and Orsie can’t help himself. He’s been observing the villagers for the past few days, lodging at the inn; now he knows just where to plant these lucky finds. Of course, Orsie could do more. Bring them better gems, shinier, brighter. He could, if he wanted, keep them clothed and fed for lifetimes, but as the past showed, it’s never a good idea. If he gives too much, avarice takes root in people’s hearts, settling deep enough to darken even the kinder souls. Others, both younger and older than himself, have made this mistake before with dire consequences, and Orsie doesn’t need crowds gathering at his gates for undeserving charity. He’s finishing his meandering and rounding back to the square when he sees the old man from before. The storyteller is sitting at the edge of a narrow street outside the hustle and hurry, surrounded by children. “A gem,” the old man says, gesturing widely, “carved from the essence of magic, was given to the very first dragon at the beginning of time for safekeeping.” The children let out an “ah” in unison, and the old man’s smile grows. He’s enjoying his story, it seems, and Orsie leans against a wall, poised to listen. “After the dragon passed away, the gem divided among his sons and daughters, on and on, until each dragon held a small one right underneath their ribs, tied to them by the force of their heartbeats. Legends grew and spread, and the gems became known as anasketts. Do you know what that means? It’s dragonsoul in the old language of the north.” A collective blink follows the reveal, the kids mesmerized. “But the kings of other creatures hunted them!” the old man adds, causing various degrees of frowning. “Why?” a little girl asks. “Because, you see, the anasketts have such magic that they carry inside them the longevity of their dragon owners, their big castles, and all their treasures— unending flows of precious stones harvested through hundreds of centuries from the very core of time.” “Davbak, what’s longevity?” A boy elbows another while the old man chuckles. “It means dragons have long, long lives.” “Like you?” “Longer!” One of the bickering boys speaks up then, arms crossed. “King Ag never hunted a dragon.” “No,” Davbak tells him, “but his great-grandfather did. It’s why our lands are left barren. See, many many years ago, King Ag the Fourth stole a dragonsoul. He lived for centuries before Red Mist, the dragon warrior, came and took back what belonged to her kin.” “The anaskett?” “Yes, indeed. Red Mist,” Davbak continues, lifting both hands in a semblance of claws, “came and laid waste to the land, cursing it to be forever arid.” “Would you cut it with that drivel,” a woman scolds Davbak before she grabs two of the kids by their elbows. She shoos the other children to their homes and leaves with her own, but not without glaring as much as possible at Davbak. Orsie finally moves toward the square, slipping a small piece of onyx in the old man’s pocket as he goes. At least someone is trying to remember the dragons.


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Meet the Author

Ava Kelly is an engineer with a deep passion for stories. Whether reading, watching, or writing them, Ava has always been surrounded by tales of all genres. Their goal is to bring more stories to life, especially those of friendship and compassion, those dedicated to trope subversion, those that give the void a voice, and those that spawn worlds of their own.

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Release Blitz

Jeff, Karma, and Me

Title: Jeff, Karma, and Me

Author: Jere’ M. Fishback

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: February 24, 2020

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 90400

Genre: Contemporary, LGBTQIA+, contemporary, new adult, gay, bi, absent parent, mental illness, campground, Florida, Indiana, college students, multiple partners, coming out

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Twenty-year-old college student, Jakub Mazur, is a loner consumed by feelings of helplessness due to his mother’s unexplained disappearance many years before. He feels he’s not in charge of his own life, that forces beyond his control will always determine his destiny. But when a summer affair ignites between Jakub and Jeff Brucelli, Jakub tastes both romantic love and self-empowerment. After returning to school for his third year of college, Jakub suffers another tragic loss; it shakes his faith in his ability to navigate life’s challenges. Is he doomed to suffer at the hand of fate forever? When Jeff is diagnosed with Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, a potentially fatal cancer of the lymphatic system, Jeff’s oncologist says he must endure debilitating chemotherapy cycles, then radiation treatments. Jakub is devastated when he learns of this, but decides, for once, he will take control of his future instead of behaving like a helpless bystander.


Jeff, Karma, and Me Jere’ M. Fishback © 2020 All Rights Reserved I was twenty years old when Jeff Brucelli walked into my life and turned it upside down. I had just finished my sophomore year of college and was home for summer break, to live with my dad in the head ranger’s residence in Fort De Soto Park, a county facility fronting Tampa Bay and the Gulf of Mexico. Dad oversaw the park’s campground, as well as the picnic areas, boat ramps, piers, and beaches. Our house was a two-bedroom, wood frame structure seated on nine-foot pilings, with a screened porch overlooking a placid bayou. The floors were polished oak, and the wood burning fireplace was built of local limestone. A wooden dock and covered boat slip extended into the bayou, where Dad kept a sixteen-foot Carolina Skiff with a forty-horsepower outboard. My first morning home, I gobbled a bowlful of cornflakes and chugged OJ from a carton. Then I took a bike ride through the RV section of the campground. The sun had risen two hours before and already the day heated up. Dampness gathered in my armpits while I pedaled along the crushed shell road. Most campsites I passed were waterfront, shaded by live oaks and sabal palms. Native foliage grew between them: sea grape, hibiscus, turkey oaks, and flame of the woods. Many sites were empty, but at one near the eastern tip of the campground, an RV the size of a city bus hulked. A guy my age sat there at a picnic table, strumming an acoustic guitar. Shirtless and wearing cutoff denim shorts, he was slender and fair-skinned, and his cola-colored eyes narrowed when I approached on my bike. “Are you staying here?” I asked. Sunlight reflected in his mop of dark and wavy hair when he nodded and answered in a scratchy tenor. “My folks are serving as campground hosts the next few months. They’re both schoolteachers and have the summer free, so we’ll be here through August.” I dismounted and lowered my kickstand. Then I pointed my chin at the RV. “That’s a nice ride.” “It belongs to my mom’s parents. Grandma’s not well these days, and they don’t use it much, so they lent it to us for this trip. We’re from Indiana.” I extended a hand. “I’m Jakub Mazur.” Jeff told me his name while we shook. His palm felt warm, his grip firm. I explained how I was home for the summer from Florida State University and living inside the park. “I just finished my second year at IU,” Jeff said. “I’m a journalism major.” Jeff glanced here and there before he spoke again, this time in almost a whisper. “We’ve only been here a few days, but I get the impression most people in the campground are older—retirees and the like.” I rolled my eyes. “You won’t find many college kids here, but we can hang out if you’d like. Got a bicycle?” Jeff jerked a thumb toward a ten-speed Schwinn chained to a sabal palm. “Let’s take a cruise,” I said, “and I’ll show you my house.” Minutes later we rolled westward, side by side, while our tires ground against the road. We passed beneath limbs of ancient live oaks draped in Spanish moss. Up ahead, at an empty campsite, a great grey heron stood on a seawall, studying a canal in hopes of finding breakfast. “How long have you lived in the park?” Jeff asked. “Since I was eight, when my dad was promoted to head ranger. The residence comes with the position.” “Must be nice.” I rocked my head from side to side. “The park’s pretty, and fishing here is good, but I never had other kids to do things with. It could get lonely, especially during summer when I wasn’t in school. The days dragged by, if you know what I mean.” Jeff grimaced. “I spent a summer on my uncle’s dairy farm, when I was thirteen. The nearest kid my age was three miles away, and I thought I’d go crazy from boredom.” When we reached the house, I pulled two Cokes from the fridge, and we sat on a glider sofa on the screened porch. Above us, a ceiling fan clacked and stirred the air. Out on the bayou’s placid surface, a half dozen brown pelicans floated while an osprey chattered in a nearby long leaf pine. “This is sweet,” Jeff said while his gaze traveled here and there. “We don’t have such places back home. Indiana’s nothing but prairie.” Jeff talked about his hometown of Peru. “We have about ten thousand people. There’s a courthouse and high school, and it’s only a three-hour drive from Bloomington, so I can come home on weekends if I choose to, but I don’t often. There’s not much going on in Peru.” I asked Jeff about his family. “My dad’s a middle school shop instructor, and Mom teaches freshman English at Peru High. They come from large families, so I have aunts and uncles all over Miami County, loads of cousins as well.” I shook my head. “What is it?” Jeff asked. “My parents were both only children, so I have no extended family or siblings. It’s just me and my dad.” “Where’s your mom?” I kept my gaze fixed on the bayou while my stomach knotted like it always did when I had to explain. “She has…mental health issues. About eleven years ago, she disappeared—just packed up her belongings and left. We haven’t heard from her since.” “Damn, that had to be rough.” “My dad nearly lost his mind. Even today, I don’t think he’s fully recovered from the situation.” We rocked on the glider for a bit without saying anything more until Jeff rose. “I need to help my folks with servicing restrooms, but after lunch why don’t we do something together, maybe go to the beach and take a swim?” “Sounds good,” I said while following Jeff out of the front door. After he climbed aboard his Schwinn, he raked a hand through his hair, and I noticed his slightly oversized nose had a few freckles on it. Then, while he pedaled away, I wondered if I’d found someone I could share my summer with.


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Meet the Author

Jere’ M. Fishback is a former journalist and trial attorney. He lives on a barrier island on Florida’s Gulf coast, where he enjoys watching sunsets with a glass of wine in his hand and a grin on his face.

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GAME CHANGER by Sierra Hill

🔥🔥 LIMITED TIME 99c SALE on GAME CHANGER  by Sierra Hill 🔥🔥


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Up until two years ago, I was living large and my life’s priorities were anchored to three things – my NBA stardom, money and celebrity. 

I was also a colossal dick.

Until one night turned my world upside down and I suffered unspeakable loss. That event changed the man I was and made me a widowed-single father. 

Now I’m a desperate parent trying to raise my special needs son and find him a trustworthy live-in nanny.

Grad student Brooklyn Hayes may be the one, with her single-minded focus on caring for my son and finishing her Master’s degree. She’s the perfect fit for our needs.

Maybe too perfect…with her bright smile, nurturing kindness and gentle touch. Caleb isn’t the only one who’s fallen for her.

I don’t know when or how it happened, but she changed the game for me. Turning my losing streak into a winning second-half.

Cover Reveal

Twisted Steel

> 🖤💜 Cover Reveal 🖤💜
> Twisted Steel: A Motorcycle Club Romance Anthology
> Fourteen of your favorite MC authors have collaborated to bring you all new biker stories. Some clubs are known, while others are brand spanking new.
> While each story takes place in a separate club, you can always count on there being copious amounts of danger, suspense and most of all – angst.
> We all know the common code of MCs. Will these men and women put their brotherhood above all else, or will they sacrifice everything for love?
> This collection includes stories from Addison Jane, Erin Osborne, Nia Farrell, Chelle C. Craze, Dani René, Amy Davies, Elizabeth Knox, E.C. Land, Krista Ames, Letha Gene, Claire Shaw, Scarlett Black, Courtney Lynn Rose, & Rae B. Lake.
> Pre-order is available

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The Lost Train

Action Adventure Thriller
Date Published: 2/20/20
Publisher: Golden Acorn Press

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A former MP, Will Stattin, is called to Europe to investigate the theft of several paintings. He learns that the paintings are part of a series of nine pieces of art, all with a clue that ultimately leads to a train that disappeared from Konigsberg, Germany in late 1944 full of gold, art, and priceless artifacts. He quickly learns that he is not the only one after the paintings. Now it is a race across Europe to find the paintings and the lost train with the help of the beautiful and savvy museum agent, Giovanna Rossi, before the hunt turns even more deadly than it already has.

About the Author

Seth Crossman is a minister, speaker, and writer who lives in Upstate New York. His own adventures have taken him across the globe and stirred his desire to write fast-paced, provocative thrillers that keep readers turning the page. He has three boys that he wants to inspire with a sense of adventure and courage to overcome whatever obstacles get in their way.

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Her Saviors by Sarah Bale

Title: Her Saviors
Series: Devil’s Regents MC
Author: Sarah Bale
Genre: MC Reverse Harem Romance
Release Date: February 25, 2020

I’m the girl who hides in the shadows where it’s safe and no one can touch me. I’ve spent the last six years trying to fade into the background, but one knock on my door changes everything. It’s time to pay on a promise I made the day my life was saved.
It sounds simple enough. Go undercover at the Devil’s Regents MC and just listen. See if I hear anything worth mentioning to the Feds. But then I meet Saint and his three club officers and things aren’t so clear. Because they make me feel. And that’s something I haven’t done in a very long time.
A rival club threatens everything Saint and his men have worked so hard to build and they won’t go down without a fight. So I’ll stand with the four men who saved me and, together, we’ll protect those around us. And at the end of the day they’ll see just how far I’ll go to keep them safe.
***This is a motorcycle club, reverse harem romance and contains situations that some readers may find offensive. Reader discretion is advised.***
“Watch it,” Jas hisses, nearly knocking a tray of empty bottles and glasses out of my hands. “Sorry,” I mutter. My entire body aches. I’ve served more bottles of beer than I can count and thrown away just as many empties. And Jas keep mysteriously disappearing, leaving me to do the majority of the work. Pulling my phone from my pocket, I see that it’s nearly two in the morning. Thank god. That means it’s almost closing time. But two o’clock comes and goes. If anything, the club gets busier. The men who have been drinking for a while are getting rowdy, making me uneasy. I don’t trust drunk fuckers. I’ve seen firsthand what they can do when they think they’re being cute and try to avoid them at all costs. When I pass out another round, one of the guys breathes heavily in my face as he thanks me. Panic riots deep inside of me and I go back to the bar, putting the tray down. “Jas, do you mind if I take a quick break?” My pulse is pounding, blood roaring through my ears. I barely hear her response and take off down the hallway, where it’s quieter. There’s a doorway marked exit, so I go outside, exhaling deeply. A few guys are out here, but they don’t pay me any attention. My therapist gave me some exercises for moments like this. Breathe in deeply. Hold. Exhale. I do this ten times and don’t feel any relief. Pacing, I fight back the tears that are building. Why is this happening now? I haven’t had a panic attack in almost a year now. “You okay?” A scream works its way up my throat and I feel dizzy. Strong hands steady me, and I look up, finding Saint looking down at me. “Did someone hurt you?” When I don’t answer he gives me a little shake. “Olivia, did someone hurt you?” I shake my head and manage to stutter out, “Panic attack.” Understanding crosses his face. “Come here.” He takes me by the hand to the side of the building where we’re alone. “Put both of your palms flush against the brick and push as hard as you can.” Terror fights to take over. I want to run until nothing can ever hurt me ever again. I need to- “Olivia. Fucking listen to me.” Something in his tone makes me look up. “Put your hands on the brick and push.” My entire body shakes, but I do as he says. The beige brick is rough under my palms, but isn’t too painful. I push against it. “That’s right. Push harder. Lean into it.” I lean, pushing with all of my might. The panic inside lets up, and I’m able to inhale deeply, filling my lungs for the first time in several minutes. I stay like this until I’m in control of my emotions. And Saint stands there, too, never saying a word. Finally, I feel grounded and in control. “Sorry,” I say, as I move from the wall. “There’s no need to apologize, Olivia.” I like it when he says my name. The O rolls off his tongue and does something to my insides. But then I remember he’s off limits. “I better get back in there. I don’t want Jas to get mad.” He snorts at that. “She’s not normally such a bitch. If she keeps it up tomorrow, let me know and I’ll talk to her.” “Does that mean I got the job?” “Yeah, that’s what that means.” He puts his hands in his pockets. “I can only pay eight hundred a week. I’ll need you Thursdays to Sundays, from eight until three, or until the guys pass out. Will that work?” I nod. “Yes. Thank you!” “No need to thank me.” He smiles, taking my breath away. “And, if that happens again, just come out here and do the trick I showed you. It helps.” The side door opens and Jas pops her head out. “Oh, there you are. I’m drowning in here and could use a hand.” I give Saint another smile before going back inside. Jas wasn’t kidding. The bar is packed and several people stand at the bar, waiting to be served. But I feel lighter as I work. All thanks to Saint. *** Saint I go over the security footage again to make sure Olivia told me the truth. She was at a table when one of the guys said something to her. Her eyes got wide and she went back to the bar, dropping off her tray, before running outside as fast as she could. I’m not even sure she realizes how fast she got out of there. Obviously, something was wrong with her. Which is why I followed. My brothers are good men, but a few of them don’t know how to handle their liquor, and I worried someone got out of line with her. There’s a tap on the door and Bash comes in. “Man, it’s fucking nuts out there. Didn’t think so many would show up for Church.” “I’m glad. We’re going to need everyone to bring in the next shipment.” Bash nods and is about to leave when I stop him. “Bring Big E in here. He said something that upset the new girl, and I want to know what it was.” “Will do.” I go back to my paperwork, occasionally glancing at the monitors. Olivia stays behind the bar and Jas works the room. She smiles as she serves beer after beer, never looking cross once. Hell, I might have to invite Rabbit to the clubhouse for this find. Been a while since we’ve someone like her around here. There’s a knock and Bash comes in with Big E. Big E nods his head, swaying on his feet. “Prez.” “Big E. Care to tell me what you said to the new girl out there?” His forehead creases. “New girl? Oh. I told her thanks for the beer.” Big E is one of the older members of the club and has never lied to me. “That’s it?” “Yup.” He sways, letting out a long belch. “We good?” “Yeah. Go easy out there. I don’t want to have to haul your ass out of here.” He grins and leaves. Bash asks, “Think he’s telling the truth?” “I do. Not sure why that upset her.” Bash replies, “I can keep an eye on her, if you’d like?” Something that feels a lot like jealousy courses through my veins. Bash grins. “Or not.” He leaves me sitting there, feeling like a big fucking tool. I turn back to the monitors. Bash goes to the bar, snagging a seat near Olivia. Fucker looks right at the camera and smiles. “Prick.” But, I’m smiling, too.
Sarah Bale’s family always knew she was destined to write romances when they saw the elaborate stories she created for her Barbie dolls. At fifteen she penned her first book, which will never see the light of day if she has any say. She is the author of over 35 books, with more on the way.
When Sarah isn’t writing she enjoys spending time with her family and friends and also planning what she’d do in a zombie apocalypse. She resides in Oklahoma and doesn’t plan on leaving any time soon. You can find her at: