Release Blitz

Calico Rae


Middle Grade, MG Fantasy, MG Fantasy Adventure

Date Published: June 7, 2022

Publisher: Hebe Publications


photo add-to-goodreads-button_zpsc7b3c634.png


Move over Harry, Lyra, and Bilbo, there’s a new magical hero in town.

 

Calico Rae’s summer was a lonely wash-out before she came face-to-face with a hungry leopard! But rather than becoming the big cat’s lunch, she discovered a magical power to control the beast. When her brother is kidnapped, Calico is forced to travel across the ocean in a desperate attempt to rescue him. Will Calico learn to harness her strange new power over the leopard before her brother falls under the spell of the mysterious Insect Queen?

Join Calico for a fast-paced,  action-packed, magical adventure.

Calico Rae is the perfect fantasy adventure for lovers of middle grade stories, filled with magic, wonder, and heart. This is the first book to explore the mysterious world of genifying – the power to connect and control with other living things. This kids chapter book is aimed at 9 to 12 year olds, spanning the tween years as kids open their eyes to the magic that exists in the world around us. It’s an exciting thrill-ride for children and adults alike.



About the Author

Doug Weller is a storyteller and the creator of the Six Word Wonder series. Calico Rae – The Twisted Towers is Doug’s debut novel for tweens and middle-graders.


Contact Links

Website

Twitter

Facebook

Instagram

BookBuzz

 

Purchase Link

Amazon


RABT Book Tours & PR
Book Tour

Bound By Vengeance and Mind

 

Bound By Vengeance and Mind

The Arsinoëphorus Alliance Book 3

by Jenna O’Malley

Genre: Historical Fantasy, Paranormal Romance 

 

Happiness fades into memories.

Reunited under Nephtyri’s command, the Arsinoëphorus Alliance reorganizes against the Hunters’ Guild. Empowered by the Goddess Nephthys, she leads an attack on Ephesus with a great price. In England and France, Ian tests the strength of his new blade, but he fears one possibility: Ronan lives as the Imperial Lord Heir. Consumed with his new siblings’ needs and Aryeh’s distractions over missing memoirs, the merna king faces vengeance or capture.

Frey frets over Lee’s absence, and he struggles with a higher role in the Alliance’s military. Torn between self-medication and redemption, he learns old debts seldom disappear when accepting a fallen angel’s aid. Saving his beloved catkin binds him to his siblings, old and new—and in time to share their anguish.

 

**Only .99cents!**

Goodreads * Amazon

 

 
 
 

Bound by Oath and Heart

The Arsinoëphorus Alliance Book 2

 

The Hunters’ Guild has won the battle.

Fractured by betrayal at Sancta Terra, the Arsinoëphorus Alliance scatters. The five, remaining Elders split Ian and Nephtyri, not realizing their sunwalker has a new secret to hide. Though the couple can visit one another in dreams, a life apart tests their bond early. A quest to find Ian a weapon to match his powers binds him to his adikous naiha and reveals not all mythical creatures are lost.

Rochelle adapts to a lesser role as Shifei under the pressure of Bjorn’s presence in his halls at Amaranth. With the help of Aryeh and other Elders from afar, they plot to save the Alliance without their new Uran Shifei-ra’s guidance. Suspicious of their actions, Nephtyri heightens the search to free her lost grandmother from the Hunters’ captivity. Allegiances are stressed as the dead walk and the living fight to thrive.

Best Book Editors BOOK OF THE YEAR AWARD WINNER 2021

 

**Only .99cents!**

Goodreads * Amazon

 

 
 
 

Bound by Fate and Blood

The Arsinoëphorus Alliance Book 1

 

Everything comes with a price.

Scottish merchant-for-hire Christian Sinclair longs for solid ground after traveling the Atlantic in the late 1660s under King Charles II’s banner. When he returns to London six months late, his homecoming plans did not include being captured, finding his family dead, or hearing their estate burned to the ground.

Nephtyri, the last of two full-blooded vampires, dreams of Christian’s plight and offers to avenge his murdered family. In exchange, she reveals his parents’ hidden ties to the secretive Hunters’ Guild—slayers and slavers intent on destroying her people.

If the Guild seizes Christian, they will either enslave him against England or enthrone him as their Imperial Lord Hunter. His choices will either save or shatter Nephtyri and the Arsinoëphorus Alliance in the process.

 

**Only .99cents!**

Goodreads * Amazon

 

 
 

A Maryland native, Jenna O’Malley lives with her geeky husband and their beloved felines. A long-time anime fan, gamer, metalhead, history lover, and English teacher, she blends contemporary references with fantasy, history, and a dash of romance. The worlds she creates highlight issues across time, including women’s rights, the importance of all voices in leadership, LGBTQIA alliance, mental health awareness, and anti-racism.

 

Website * Facebook * Instagram * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads

 

Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

$10 Amazon giftcard – 3 winners!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

Release Blitz

Raiders of the Dark Coast

 

Rise of the Thrall Lord, Book Three

 

Fantasy

Date Published: 6/7/2022

 

photo add-to-goodreads-button_zpsc7b3c634.png

 

How does one kill the unkillable? With magic of great power. What if that magic was stolen by pirates?

Demons from the Abyss hold the tower in the mountains and are using it to summon more of their kind. Once they have amassed a great enough force, nothing can stop them from destroying Arinthar and all life on it.

The problem is demons are not your normal monsters. Weapons of great power are needed to defeat them, demon slaying weapons like those of legend.

Rumors of the magic needed to forge such weapons point to the Dark Coast. It is a place fraught with danger—the home of deadly storms, ancient gods, and the thirteen pirate Clans of the Coast.

Can a small band of heroes brave the Dark Coast and find the magic they so sorely need before demons overrun their world?

 

Other books in the Rise of the Thrall Lord series:

 


City of Tears

Rise of the Thrall Lord,  Book One


A cursed city shrouded in mist. The power to level an army. A deadly race against demons to find it.


Protectors of Penwick

Rise of the Thrall Lord,  Book Two


A horde of demons from the Abyss. A dread master of the undead. A choice between saving a single city versus the entire world.


Amazon




 About the Author

“Magic & adventure with a twist of humor.”

F.P. Spirit is an avid science fiction and fantasy fan. A Trekkie before it was cool, F. P. became hooked on fantasy the moment he cracked open his first copy of Lord of the Rings. When he is not lost roaming the multiverse of sci-fi and high-fantasy fiction, F. P. is either creating adventures for his roll-playing friends and family or connecting with his mind and body in an attempt to reach that inner spark of spirit.

To learn more, you can go to his website (fpspirit.com) or sign up for his newsletter (fpspirit.com/newsletter).

 

Contact Links

Website

Twitter

Facebook

Instagram

YouTube

BookBuzz

 

Purchase Links

Amazon

B&N

Kobo

iBooks

Google Play

Smashwords

                 

RABT Book Tours & PR
Book Blitz

A Curse of Blood and Water

Title: A Curse of Blood and Water

Author: Laurence A. Clarke

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 06/07/2022

Heat Level: 1 – No Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 94400

Genre: Historical Fantasy, LGBTQIA+, Victorian Era, MM attraction, selkies, shifter, mystery, arcane arts, occultism, magic

Add to Goodreads

Description

James Marshall moved to Serenity Sound expecting a quiet and idyllic village, but that peace is quickly shattered by his discovery that something is stalking the streets of the sound. He is determined to get to the bottom of it, even if he must join forces with Mr. Garten, a handsome but secretive manservant. James’s investigation draws him into a world of myths and magic—and entangles him in the lingering and deadly legacy of a mysterious tragedy.

Excerpt

A Curse of Blood and Water Laurence A. Clarke© 2022 All Rights Reserved I came to Serenity Sound in May because I’d been assured that the worst of the rains would be over by then, and the house well prepared for my arrival. Despite all this, we approached the town in a fine mist of rain. I felt constantly obliged to wipe the windowpanes clear of condensation with my sleeve until it was quite as damp as the out of doors. Eventually, I tired of watching the woods go by, all the same lush and sodden greenery. I turned to my companion, a Mr. Robert Kleine, who had been the one to put everything in good order and had kindly come personally to fetch me to my new abode in his own carriage. I was gregarious by nature and already missing conversation, but Mr. Kleine had so far sat stoically and silently across from me, head nodding in either drowsiness or contemplation, and I had been loath to interrupt. Now, however, sheer boredom drove me to do so, with a comment on the abundance of wildlife I had seen outside the misty window. “To be sure,” Mr. Kleine agreed, opening his eyes and straightening a little. “It is to be expected. The sound is all woods on three sides, and sea on the last—but you are from the city, born and raised there, I presume?” I acknowledged that this was so. “Then no wonder,” he said amiably, his German accent coming through strongly with the w. “I suppose we get used to it here. You will also in time. Perhaps you will join the hunt this autumn? It brings many men from the city every year, all hoping to bag a fine buck. I myself seldom miss the season. Do you hunt?” “I do not,” I admitted. “Though I might be convinced to try it.” “Even so,” Mr. Kleine said, “I think you will find the atmosphere of the forest very refreshing after city living.” “Peaceful?” I was thinking of the name of the place, wondering how apt it was. “Yes, very. Mostly.” I raised my brows, hoping to convey that I wished more clarification on that point, but Mr. Kleine chose instead to change the subject. “Even if you find the forest not to your taste, we are not so isolated as one might presume. Dawson Island is out in the sound, and on sunny days people row over to picnic there. There is a village there now, around the old Manor. It is rather charming.” “I had not known there was a manor house.” “Well, it was originally but was not again until recently. It was turned into an asylum for a good while before the family bought it back. Of course, nobody wished to live there until the family took over again. But now there is quite the cheerful little place—The Rocks, they call it, or something like that, though I believe its proper name is simply that of the island.” “I hope I shall get to see it during my stay! And what else might there be?” “Well, there is another village, a few miles down the shore, called Lyreton, which has what some might consider healthful baths.” A slight sniff at the end of this sentence made clear exactly how healthful, in his opinion, these baths really were. “It’s popular with city folk, as well. They’re meant to be excellent for gout, although that might also be the exercise—one must walk a few miles to get there, unless they hire someone to carry them or take the coach.” I had never been to a bath, or a spa, or an island, for that matter. A whole new world, it seemed, was suddenly opening before me. “Well, then, I haven’t got gout, but it might prove diverting.” “Indeed? Well, there is also the convent nearby the sound. They make excellent sheep’s cheese, and beer.” I glanced at the window and gave it a half-hearted swipe with my sleeve. “What is there for entertainment?” I inquired, turning back to my companion. “Mostly we make our own,” Mr. Kleine said. “No theatre, or music halls, or cafes?” I pressed, perhaps a little desperately. “Music halls? Oh no, definitely not. The bigger houses often do dances however. There are also some good public houses. The Crab and Oyster, in particular, does up marvellous fish and chips.” I sat back in my seat. Suddenly, the rain and trees around me seemed very oppressive. Still, I tried to keep good cheer. After all, the point was to “get away from it all,” to refresh my spirits. Long walks in the woods and along the shores to study the poetry of nature, quiet evenings of contemplation with my books—that sort of nonsense. It would also help to be well away from my dear family, who as of late had begun to drive me to distraction. I thanked Mr. Kleine for this intelligence, and then we lapsed into silence again. By the time the carriage was rattling over the cobbles of the main street, Mr. Kleine was most decidedly asleep. He awoke with a whooshing gasp as the carriage rocked to a stop. “Well, well,” he murmured, blinking. “Here already?” He leaned forward and pulled back the curtain, peering out through the rain. “Yes, here we are. How excited you must be!” I nodded, suddenly aching with the desperate need to stretch my legs and, in my haste to stand at last, nearly tumbled out of the carriage when the door was opened. I walked slowly a little ways down the street to get the stiffness out of my limbs, looking up at the house alongside as I did. It was a large house, tall and relatively narrow, separated from the rest by a gated garden and high hedges. On either side, other houses, smaller but similarly proportioned, pressed near each other, colourful shutters closed against the rain. I realized that the big house was at the apex of a small hill, giving it further distinction. You could tell it had been built by a man who had some money and wished everyone to know it. The accents were almost ostentatious, all elaborately carved frippery about the gables and gutters, in the shape of baroque-style curlicues and medieval foliage reminiscent of old family crests. Indeed, above the door there was such a coat of arms, though like the rest it had been painted black, likely either in respect for the dead master, or on account of embarrassment in hindsight. Against the black accents, the rest of the house looked very starkly white, all freshly repainted before my arrival. Even the door knocker, when I reached it, looked to have been well polished. The door was opened for us by a maid, and I came in to find all the servants lined up in the hall before me. I doubt I could hide my consternation at having to suddenly address such a large assemblage, and it was to my eternal gratitude that Mr. Kleine took over for me. He introduced me as their new master, as the renter of the place and all its accoutrements, and specifically added that I was a dear friend of the absent heiress. I nodded at them and tried to look sufficiently stern. The servants at last made their bows and filed out to continue their work, and the housekeeper herself came to speak to me personally. She introduced herself as Mrs. Morning. Mrs. Morning was a very tall lady, at least my height, which no doubt assisted her in imposing household law. From the perfect coif of dark hair beneath an immaculate cap, to the polished tips of her shoes, she was domestic order incarnate. I immediately professed my belief that all would be well in her hands, and that she was to continue to make decisions as she had been, which she seemed to find not only acceptable, but expected. “We shall, of course, be consulting you regarding anything meriting your attention,” she said crisply. “I shall bring the budget to you tomorrow morning, if that time is agreeable to you, to see it approved and to discuss anything involving the house funds.” I understood that she needed money—naturally, the staff continued to require income, and Miss Drummond had obligingly already approved the dispensation of such through our man Mr. Kleine. I agreed to this, and perhaps seeing that I was fatigued, she called a manservant to take me to my rooms. In Mr. Kleine’s notes, which I had read prior to his arrival, I remembered seeing that this man, Mr. Garten, had been the late master’s personal aide. It was up to me, the notes had said, if I wished to retain his services as such. I wasn’t certain. He was polite and efficient, but his presence brought home to me the sudden and tragic death of the previous occupant of the very rooms to which he led me, and it seemed to cast a pall over the both of us. I very quickly thanked him for his attentions and sent him away. The master bedroom was large and comfortable. The fire had been lit to ward off the rainy evening chill, and the floor was covered in soft, well-worn carpets. The bed seemed enormous, and I realized that despite the availability of a nearby lady’s chambers, it was built to comfortably hold two. I went to it and pulled back the heavy down comforter, revealing clean, tight sheets. I doubted very much that I would find somebody to share my bed here. In such a small town, it would be impossible unless I suddenly decided to marry. The idea of imposing on the servants for so base an activity was a notion that I quickly dismissed. I would simply have to live as did the nuns in the nearby convent Mr. Kleine had mentioned. Resigned as I must be to celibacy, I nevertheless, with an attitude of defiance, took comfort in the lesser sin of self-pleasure. After the weariness of the long journey, it was all that was required to send me immediately to sleep.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Laurence A. Clarke is a stereotypical bi trans man living near Vancouver, Canada. He loves history, fantasy, and historical fantasy. This isn’t his first novel, but it is the first that he is allowing to see the light of day.Laurence A. Clarke is a stereotypical bi trans man living near Vancouver, Canada. He loves history, fantasy, and historical fantasy. This isn’t his first novel, but it is the first that he is allowing to see the light of day.

Website | Twitter

Giveaway

One lucky winner will receive a $50.00 NineStar Press Gift Code! a Rafflecopter giveaway https://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js Blog Button 2
Book Blitz

All Hell

All Hell by Katy Hunter

Book 3 in the Half Blood series

General Release Date: 7th June 2022

Word Count: 15,059 Book Length: NOVELLA Pages: 64

Genres:

ANGELS AND DEMONS BONDAGE AND BDSM CONTEMPORARY EROTIC ROMANCE MÉNAGE AND MULTIPLE PARTNERS PARANORMAL REVERSE HAREM

Add to Goodreads

Book Description

When all hell breaks loose, you call in the angel… Cal, Travis, Max and new-guy Suriel are on the case. The paranormal convention is in town, and they are the star attraction. But under the surface, tensions are bubbling. Max feels pushed out, Travis is dealing with a horny little problem and Suriel is in love. Plus, there’s the little issue of Cal’s evil nemesis trying to take over the depths of Hell, one demon at a time. Can Cal find harmony in her harem while once again saving the world? It’s going to be a devil of a job…

Excerpt

The future had been on my mind recently. Right now, for example, unbeknownst to me, imminent death was what fate had planned—and not for the first time today. “Just tell us where you hid the damn gold.” I slammed my hands down onto the rickety old wooden desk and peered into his devious little green eyes. “Fuck you. And fuck your boyband, too,” cackled the little green asshole. “I’ll see you in Hell.” “Not if I see you f—” The spray hit me in the back of my mouth as I shouted my reply. At first it tickled, almost like a feather or a fluttering butterfly, then bam, my throat seized up. I uttered a mumbled ‘crap’ and fell to the ground. Again. Damn it. How many hidden poison sprays did one leprechaun have? I imagine Suriel stepped in to do his magic, because before I knew it, I was staring into his piercing blue eyes as he loomed over me, his mouth on mine, his tongue removing the last of the poison…very, very slowly. I peered over his curls to see two very pissed off boyfriends. This was the second time that Suriel had needed to give me the literal kiss of life today, and they were not amused. Not least because, as they probably suspected—something I knew to be true—that no tongues or even bodily contact was needed for him to do his thing. A click of his fingers and I would be back in the world of the living. Such was the strength of this devilishly cheeky angel. “Suriel…” I said into his mouth, making him jump away. “I think I’m good, thank you.” I sat up and looked at Connor, the aforementioned leprechaun. Time to get back to work. “I’ll take it from here,” said Travis, my delicious demon and crime-solving partner. He rolled up his sleeves and revealed his very impressive biceps. The man only had to look at a bench-press for them to grow another inch wider, much to Max’s chagrin. My lady parts did a little flutter of admiration. Those deliciously ginormous arms. Sigh. I don’t know if it was due to the life-threatening situations we’d been through over the last couple of years or the fact that we were all going through some stuff at the moment, but I was in love with my boyfriends, like deeply, deeply in love with them. I couldn’t be in a room alone with any one of them without wanting to just rip their clothes off and ravage them then and there. But this wasn’t the time or the place, and damn it, we really needed to find that gold. “I’m fine,” I replied, trying to stand up then falling down when everything went a bit pear-shaped. “Clearly not,” said Max. He helped me to my feet, stuck an arm around my waist and escorted me, rather brusquely, from our makeshift interrogation room. “Travis will get it out of him. He always does.” I peered over my shoulder to see Travis holding Connor up by the tip of his beard. Maybe Max had a point. I turned to Max and grinned at him suggestively. “Really, Cal? You just died…twice. You’re not even a little tired?” I shook my head and played with the buttons on his shirt. “Is it my fault that I’m in love with the most handsome warlock on the planet? No. It’s your fault for existing.” He rolled his eyes and feigned exhaustion. “It’s possible to have too much of a good thing, you know?” Then he opened a door, checked to see what was in the room then whisked us both in, throwing me up against the wall and slamming the door behind us. “A quickie—and I’m in charge,” he said before gripping my hair, yanking my head back and smacking his lips onto mine. Oh, bless him. As if he were ever going to be in charge. He pulled away and snarled a little in delight. His eyes darkened and a sparkle of magic twinkled in them as my G-string tightened around my pussy before slowly gliding down my inner thigh and dropping to my ankles. He spun me around, pinning me just a little too hard against the cold brick wall. Unzipping himself, he pushed his cock between my butt cheeks and thrust it against my pussy. He slid his fingers up my back, glided them around my body and grabbed onto my nipples, pulling and flicking them until they hardened to his touch. Mmm-m…heavenly. We knew each other’s turn-ons, each other’s erogenous zones, completely. I didn’t think I could love this man more. He sank his lips down onto my neck and bit me, making my head jerk up. Max and I had been playing with pain for a while, pushing each other, going a little too far. My endless desire for him gave us all the time in the world to experiment. Our carnal knowledge of each other expanded with every slap-filled, nibble-induced orgasm. He traced his fingers slowly up to my wrists then lifted my hands above my head and thrust himself inside me. There was never a need for fussing with condoms and lube when Max was around. He’d worked out how to magically cover his ass—or his dick, in this case—a long time ago. Nobody was getting pregnant on his watch. I gasped as he plunged into me harder and harder, pummeling into me. There might not be anybody in this room, but someone walking down this corridor would have no doubts as to what was going on in here. I was most definitely getting the banging I’d desired. He got off on PDA, but I preferred to keep it in the bedroom. My father—as my mother loves to remind me—was a bit of a prude. Mum, on the other hand, coming from a magical family, had no such qualms. Sex, when you’re a witch or a warlock, involves no shame, no judgment. I like to think I inherited a bit of both worlds. Max let out a gasp. I recognized what it meant. It was his ‘I’m about to come’ sound. He knew damn well that I needed clitoral stimulation. It wasn’t our first rodeo. He hadn’t even grazed my clit, and this was going way too fast for my liking. So much for being in sync sexually. “Max,” I cried out, between gasps. “Touch me!” He giggled in my ear. “First she wants to be fucked. Now she wants to come, too?” He slowed his rhythm but didn’t make any move toward my clit. “And what if I don’t want to make you come?” The fight for dominance in our relationship was endless. Max liked to think he was the commanding force between the two of us. Unfortunately, I quite liked to believe that I was the commanding force, too. I twisted my hands around, grabbed his wrists, thrust back my hips hard enough to make him withdraw, swung myself around and threw him onto the floor with me sitting astride him. “I don’t come, you don’t come,” I said as I sank down onto his dick. He laughed and pulled his wrists from my grip, putting his hands behind his head and enjoying the ride. “I thought you said I could be in charge.” “I said no such thing,” I replied as I twirled my pussy against the very base of his cock, rubbing my clit against him and bringing myself to fruition all by myself. I slowed down as the waves of pleasure coursed through my body, and he sped up underneath me, bouncing me up and down, groaning with pleasure as he brought himself to conclusion. I flopped down onto him as he lay prostrate on the dusty floor. “Are we fucking or fighting? I can’t quite tell.” “Both? Neither?” His smile waned. “If you’d just let me dominate you, I wouldn’t have to seek it elsewhere.” “And where would the fun be in that?” I sat back on my knees and heaved myself up, searching for my underwear. I turned to look down at him. “You’re happy, right? You’d tell me if something was wrong?” He liked our little power struggle, didn’t he? Wasn’t that what it was all about? It had always been like that. Sometimes I held the whip, sometimes he brought out the nipple clamps. He got his need for submissives elsewhere, and that had always been the case. It was what he did—what he’d always done. Making love to Max was harder than a work-out. The constant play-fighting was what made it different, special. It was what made it ours. “It’s nothing. I’m being silly. Don’t listen to me,” he said, with a touch of remorse. I gave him a hand and pulled him to his feet. He leaned down and kissed me on the nose. “I love you. I’m sorry. It was great, and I ruined it.” “Forgiven,” I replied instead of pushing it further. I should have done it. I should have said something then and there. Before it was too late. Before I’d almost lost him for good.

Buy Links

Choose Your Store First For Romance

About the Author

Katherine E Hunt

Katy Hunter lives on a mountain in France with her husband, kids and two dogs. When she’s not writing you can find her curled up in front of the fire, book in one hand and a glass of chardonnay in the other. Follow Katy on Instagram and sign up to her Facebook reader’s group. You can also find her on Facebook and follow her on Twitter

Giveaway

Enter for the chance to win a $50.00 First for Romance Gift Card! Competition hosted by Totally Entwined Group. a Rafflecopter giveaway https://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js
Excerpt Reveal

Love’s Liberation by Khushi T. Saha

Love’s Liberation, Liberation Series, Book 2 by Khushi T. Saha is set to release on June 13th on Amazon!

Add it to your TBR on Goodreads: https://bit.ly/LovesLiberationTBR

The saga continues in this steamy sequel to Passion’s Liberation, as Simran and Marcus fight their personal issues to fulfill their all-consuming love.

Simran Khan faces an enormous crossroads. Her independent New York life is upended by her family’s expectation to drop everything, be the good Indian daughter, and return to India to placate her demanding father. Adding to her turmoil is that the one man who broke her heart is back in town … for her. She leaves for India to sort out her family business, regardless of her heart’s desires.

Marcus Lehigh is well aware he nearly destroyed the only good thing in his life. A man unaccustomed to love, his feelings for Simran left insecurities that shook him to the core. He let her go, convinced it was best for them both. He was mistaken. If anything, she takes up his entire heart now.

As the clock ticks, and before Simran satisfies her father’s demands to marry the man he’s chosen for her, Marc faces his own immense decision. Does loving someone mean letting them choose their own path? Or can a determined person like him really leave a challenge untouched, especially when it involves the woman he loves?

A race to India to express his true feelings, and right the wrongs he’s committed, will be the deciding factor. Will love liberate them toward true happiness?

Goodreads: https://bit.ly/LovesLiberationTBR

EXCERPT:

“I want to show you another special place.” His voice was low and gravelly in her ear and a burst of moisture came between her legs as her nipples pebbled up hard, almost painfully, against the snug material of her dress. 

“What about the performance ….?” She was breathless now, arching her back, her head leaning on his shoulder.

“Lucky for you I own the joint. You can see them another time.” 

Marc grabbed her hand, leading her to a doorway hidden behind the bar. He opened it and practically shoved her into the room, shutting the door behind them and locking it. When he flipped on the light, Simran burst into laughter.

“A broom closet!? You wanted to show me a broom closet?” She turned to face him and saw absolute desire written all over his face, his eyes darkened. “Well, well, well. And what’s so special about this closet, Marcus Lehigh?” She stood with hands on her hips.

“God, I love it when you use my entire name. It’s like I’ve been a naughty kid or something.” He groaned, pushing her up against the wall, possessing her mouth in a drugging kiss. Simran was already feeling carefree from the champagne, the show, the club, and this only made her feel lighter, dizzier. She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him even closer, rubbing her body against his hard one. She felt his stiffened length pressing into her belly and she whimpered, widening her legs as far as her tight dress would let her. 

“You certainly are a naughty boy, Marcus Lehigh. Dragging me from the show, having me all to yourself,” she taunted, while his lips drew down her neck, nipping and pulling at his favorite spot where her pulse was beating fast butterfly wings underneath her skin.

He hiked her dress up around her waist and hoisted her up so her legs were straddling him, her back against the wall.

“Fuck, you’ll see how bad I can be,” he growled.

Meet The Author:

Khushi T. Saha currently lives in the U.S, having been lucky enough to live on both coasts in her life. As a first generation South Asian, she has a foot in the US and another back on the Asian continent. An empath at heart, and a knack for spinning tales (something she inherited from a beloved great-aunt), she takes what she knows and weaves them into works of fiction. Naturally a believer in love, her work has turned into romances. She hopes that other South Asian Americans can relate to her stories and the Asian American experience, and of course, that romantics all around enjoy her novels.

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/KhushiT.S
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/ktsromance/
Goodreads: https://bit.ly/37ZevkH
BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/khushi-t-saha
Amazon: https://amzn.to/3vwldaS
Newsletter: https://bit.ly/KhushiTSahaNewsletter

TOUR HOSTED BY HEA PR More

Release Blitz

Awfully Ambrose

Awfully Ambrose by Lisa Henry & Sarah Honey

Book 1 in the Bad Boyfriends, Inc. series

Word Count: 70,329 Book Length: SUPER NOVEL Pages: 273

Genres:

COMEDY AND HUMOUR CONTEMPORARY EROTIC ROMANCE FAKE RELATIONSHIPS GAY GLBTQI

Add to Goodreads

Book Description

  Bad Boyfriend, Inc—When you can’t find a good boyfriend, why not hire a bad one instead? Liam Connelly is a university student in Sydney. He leads an orderly and predictable life of studying, working as a waiter in an upscale harbour restaurant and spending lots of time with his cat, trying to convince himself that after his last cheating boyfriend, he’s perfectly happy alone. Well, mostly happy. Ambrose Newman is a Bad Boyfriend. Professionally. Someone’s parents don’t approve of that long-haired unemployed bass player they want to date? Well, that’s where Ambrose comes in. For a few hundred dollars a night, he’ll go to dinner with them and their parents and show them that the grass is definitely not greener on his side of the fence. It’s dead. When Ambrose brings a date to Liam’s restaurant, it’s not sparks that fly—it’s glassware. When Liam needs a date to prove to his visiting parents that he’s not destined to die sad and alone, he calls Ambrose, desperate. If Ambrose can be a bad boyfriend for money, he can be a tolerable one too, right? Which works out great—right up until Ambrose is too nice, and Liam’s parents invite them up to their winery for the long weekend. Suddenly Ambrose has to be a Bad Boyfriend again, to give Liam an excuse to ‘break up’ with him before his mum starts planning the wedding. But as Liam gets to know the real Ambrose, real feelings start to sneak into the fake relationship on both sides. Under the watchful eyes of Liam’s protective family, who have no idea what to make of Ambrose, their fake relationship evolves into a chance at something real. When Ambrose has an ugly run-in with Liam’s sister’s fiancé—who’s an even worse boyfriend than him—it might cost him not only any chance he had of convincing Liam’s family that he’s not the nightmare they think he is, but his fledgling relationship with Liam, too. Reader advisory: This book contains mention of physical abuse and a racist comment.

Excerpt

The voice was loud and obnoxious, at odds with the restaurant’s muted soundtrack of clinking cutlery, soft jazz and murmured conversation. “Really appreciate you paying for dinner, Tom. I’m between opportunities right now but I’ll be damned if I’m gonna take just any job and be a corporate drone. Better to take a free meal when I can get one, right?” It was followed by a braying laugh that made Liam wince and want to drag his nails down a blackboard, because that would have been preferable to listening to this honking, snorting nightmare. Liam prayed he wouldn’t have to wait on whoever the loud idiot was, but judging by the smirk on his co-worker Judy’s face, he had a sudden sinking certainty that the table was his. Sure enough, when he glanced over to check, there was Braying Man in the middle of his section—elbows on the table, wearing a backwards baseball cap and a flannel shirt, picking at his teeth. The idiot caught Liam’s eye and snapped his fingers. “Hey, man, can we get a bread basket or something? And booze. Lots of booze. Her old man’s paying, so make it the good stuff.” He winked, then gave Liam honest-to-God finger guns. The guy was an utter dickhead, Liam decided. Still, part of the job was keeping his opinions to himself, so Liam made his way over to the table, face carefully impassive. His mask slipped for a split second when he recognized the girl who was gazing at Dickhead with something like worship. It was Kelly, who he shared a Marketing Communications class with at the University of Sydney, and the last time Liam had talked to her, she’d been dating someone completely different—a nice, if slightly scruffy, guitarist in a pub band. He wondered what had happened to him. The other couple at the table had to be Kelly’s parents. They were looking at the guy with a slightly confused expression on their faces, like he was one of those hairless cats, and they couldn’t decide if they were fascinated or horrified by his existence. Liam had to admit, Dickhead was objectively attractive when he was keeping his mouth shut. He could have been a model, with his well-muscled physique, dark hair and carefully sculpted stubble. He had a strong, straight nose, killer jawline, and even white teeth. He was just Liam’s type—or would have been, if Liam dated. Liam cleared his throat and did his best to pretend he didn’t know anyone at the table as he said, “Welcome to Bayside. Would you like to order some drinks?” Dickhead rolled his eyes. “Wow. I guess you weren’t listening, huh? I mean, I literally just asked you to bring us good booze.” Liam kept his face pleasantly neutral—he’d had plenty of practice, working as a waiter in a high-end Sydney restaurant—and clarified, “What, specifically, would you like to drink, sir?” He made sure to address Kelly’s father, since he was obviously the one footing the bill. The man smiled gratefully and started to say, “I’d like a gin and tonic, and my wife will have—” Arsehole interrupted. “Just give me a bottle of that Don Paragraph stuff”—as someone from a family of winemakers, Liam died a tiny death at the mangled pronunciation—“and the quicker the better, yeah?” “I’ll check if we have any Dom Perignon in stock, sir. How many glasses with that?” Liam asked through clenched teeth. God, he hoped they weren’t celebrating Kelly’s engagement to this douchebag. Dude wrinkled his nose. “Just one. It’s for me.” He turned to Kelly and winked. “Gotta watch for extra calories in drinks if you wanna stay in shape, am I right, sweet pea?” Liam waited for Kelly to rip the guy’s balls off—he hoped literally, but he’d settle for metaphorically—because he knew she had a hell of a temper when she was wronged. He’d been on the receiving end of it during one disastrous group assignment. But Kelly just smiled like a Stepford Wife and murmured, “Yes, Ambrose.” Liam was pretty sure the shock on her father’s face was mirrored on his own, but he schooled his features and nodded. Ambrose tilted a menu at Kelly’s father. “This seafood platter’s meant to be for two, but you’re cool with me ordering it, right, Tom?” Kelly’s father cleared his throat. “Kelly’s allergic to seafood.” “That’s cool, I wasn’t planning on sharing anyway,” the dickhead—Ambrose—said with an easy grin that lit up his entire face and really, it wasn’t fair that someone who was such a colossal arsehole could be so attractive. But of course, that was how the world worked, right? Beautiful people got away with murder. Liam turned back to the older man. “And the rest of your drinks order, sir?” he asked, taking petty satisfaction at the way Ambrose snorted and muttered under his breath. “A gin and tonic for myself, and a glass of Connelly Cellars’ Perfect Pinot,” Tom said, and Liam suppressed the urge to preen, just like he did every time someone ordered one of his family’s wines. “Make mine a tonic water,” Kelly said. Liam blinked. Wow, what happened to the girl who always claimed she’d never drink water because fish fucked in it? Something weird was going on, and whatever it was, Liam didn’t like it. He especially didn’t like that it was happening here at Bayside. People didn’t come into Bayside wearing backwards caps and being dicks. Bayside had standards—standards that Liam was beginning to worry he might have to attempt to enforce. It had water views! You could see the Sydney Harbour Bridge from the wide dining room windows! It was both fancy and trendy, and it always made the list of the top ten places to eat in Sydney. Diners weren’t supposed to wear flannel to Bayside, and Liam panicked quietly that he didn’t know if the dress code was actually enforceable or not. Liam had only been working here for eight months, but it had never come up before. People usually treated Bayside like it was a special occasion, not three a.m. at the counter of Macca’s. “Good choice, babe. You know you’re a sloppy drunk,” Ambrose said, leaning in and patting Kelly’s face. Then he hauled himself out of his chair, scratched his belly and farted. “I gotta go take a dump. I always shit when I’m out. Make someone else deal with that, am I right?” And with that Ambrose sauntered towards the bathrooms, leaving Kelly’s parents staring after him open-mouthed. Liam couldn’t help himself. “Kelly—” “Hi, Liam, I guess you’ve met my new boyfriend now!” Kelly cut in, following that with a tinkling laugh that was pitched a little high with nerves. “He’s an entrepreneur.” Liam opened his mouth to ask what happened to Greg the bassist, but Kelly shot him a glare that said she would hunt him down and personally set his dick on fire if he said another word. Liam knew that look, so he shut his mouth, went to fetch drinks and said a prayer that he wouldn’t have to be the one to clean the toilets at the end of the night. Frankly, he wouldn’t have been surprised to learn that Ambrose had just decided to take a shit on the floor and stolen all the paper. When Ambrose wandered back out again at last, he didn’t walk straight back to his own table. Instead, he approached another table where a group of shiny and fashionable young women who were probably Instagram influencers or something were eating. “Hi, ladies,” he said. He put both hands on their table and leaned forward. “My name’s Ambrose.” “Is he—?” Kelly’s mother’s mouth dropped open. “Oh my God.” “Ambrose is very sociable,” Kelly said. “People love him.” A ticking vein in her father’s temple called her a liar. Liam saw the way that Tom started to strangle his linen napkin, and hurried over to the influencers’ table. “Excuse me, sir,” he said to Ambrose. “Can you please return to your own table?” Ambrose gave him finger guns, and sauntered back over to join Kelly and her parents. What the everlasting fuck? And Liam obviously wasn’t the only one thinking it. Kelly’s mum looked close to tears, and her dad looked half a heartbeat away from either a stroke or a homicide. In the event he actually did murder Ambrose, Liam decided to tell the police it was justified. Hell, at this point he’d probably give the guy an alibi. And the murder weapon. And a bucket of bleach to clean up the murder scene. Kelly, though, just beamed at Ambrose like she was under some sort of spell. “I missed you, boo.” She blew him a kiss. Ambrose shrugged. “Have we ordered yet? I’m starving. Service here is soooo slow,” he said loudly, stretching his arms over his head and attracting stares from the other tables. “Probably can’t get decent staff.” Liam seethed and wondered if he and Tom could come to some sort of agreement regarding mutual alibis and body disposal. The walk-in freezer out the back would be a good place to store a corpse while they figured out their next step. Liam woodenly went through the specials, which nobody ever ordered anyway, then took their menus back and excused himself. He’d only made it a few steps away from the table when the obnoxious click of someone’s fingers pulled him back again. “Garçon!” Ambrose. Of-fucking-course. “Hey, change Kelly’s order to a garden salad,” Ambrose said. He grinned at Kelly. “We don’t want you getting too chunky, right, babe?” That vein in Tom’s temple looked about ready to pop. “Kelly can eat what she bloody well likes,” he hissed in an undertone. “A salad sounds great, actually,” Kelly said. “Ambrose knows what’s best. Babe, tell them about your business ideas.” Ambrose straightened up, his eyes gleaming. “Have you guys heard of multi-level marketing?” This time it was Liam’s jaw that dropped. Kelly was a business major. “So,” Ambrose said to Kelly’s stone-faced parents, “what you do is, you have a product, and you recruit people to sell it for you. They’re called a downline. Like, some people say that it’s predatory and cult-like, but I’ve been in a cult, and ha! You won’t fool me like that twice! Well, three times. Did you bring your chequebook, Tom? I mean, I can take cash if you want to get on board too, I guess. Like, what do you think? Five grand?” Liam stared at Kelly for a moment, wondering who the fuck she even was, then escaped to the kitchen to put in their orders before he finally snapped. He managed to resist the urge to tell the chef to spit on the seafood, but it was a close-run thing.

Buy Links

Choose Your Store First For Romance

About the Author

Lisa Henry

Lisa likes to tell stories, mostly with hot guys and happily ever afters. Lisa lives in tropical North Queensland, Australia. She doesn’t know why, because she hates the heat, but she suspects she’s too lazy to move. She spends half her time slaving away as a government minion, and the other half plotting her escape. She attended university at sixteen, not because she was a child prodigy or anything, but because of a mix-up between international school systems early in life. She studied History and English, neither of them very thoroughly. Lisa has been published since 2012, and was a LAMBDA finalist for her quirky, awkward coming-of-age romance Adulting 101, and a Rainbow Awards finalist for 2019’s Anhaga. Find out more at Lisa’s website and blog. You can follow her on Bookbub and sign up to her newsletter.

Sarah Honey

Sarah started life in New Zealand. She came to Australia for a working holiday, loved it, and never left. She lives in Western Australia with her partner, two cats, two dogs and a life-size replica TARDIS. She spends half her time at a day job and the rest of her time reading and writing about clueless men falling in love. Her proudest achievements include having adult kids who will still be seen with her in public, the ability to make a decent sourdough loaf, and knowing all the words to Bohemian Rhapsody. Awfully Ambrose will be her fifth published novel in collaboration with Lisa Henry.

Giveaway

Enter for the chance to win a $50.00 First for Romance Gift Card! Competition hosted by Totally Entwined Group. a Rafflecopter giveaway https://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js
Release Blitz

The Rule of Three

The Rule of Three by Kristian Parker

Word Count: 51,253 Book Length: NOVEL Pages: 211

Genres:

CONTEMPORARY EROTIC ROMANCE GAY GLBTQI MÉNAGE AND MULTIPLE PARTNERS

Add to Goodreads

Book Description

  When a handsome stranger arrives, James and Ed have to make a choice that will change their lives. James Durkin is happy. He’s landlord of the pub, chair of the parish council and secret lover of his best friend, Ed Cropper. But Ed, tired of living in the shadows, dreams of living openly, something James can’t contemplate. Then there’s Arthur Whittaker. When the handsome young primary school teacher comes to live in the village, he signals a future that neither James nor Ed ever saw for themselves. But the small Yorkshire village of Napthwaite is a place that’s resistant to change, meaning the three men must be strong enough to forge their own path… Will they overcome the odds—and tradition—to find the love they crave, or will their brave new world crumble to nothing under the pressure? Reader advisory: This book contains instances of homophobia, and references to parental death and on-page drug taking.

Excerpt

Disco music blasted from the float passing by, and the crowds jamming the pavements dancing and waving in the spring sunshine cheered as a drag queen belted out Holding Out For A Hero at the top of her lungs. A six-foot-tall man dressed as Wonder Woman threw a condom directly at Ed Cropper It ricocheted off his head and fell straight into his beer. “Lo siento,” ‘she’ cried and blew him a kiss. She disappeared into the crowd, soon to be replaced by a marching band in stockings and suspenders. The parade waited for no one. Ed fished the rogue item out of his beer and slid it into his shirt pocket. James Durkin wrapped his arm around his shoulder. “Could you be any more Yorkshire? Waste not, want not?” he asked, laughing. Ed leant into the hug, the throng of sweaty bodies pushing them together and the overwhelming smell of poppers permeating through the crowd. It only ever gave him a headache. He wondered what the hell anyone was doing sniffing them in the glaring Spanish sun. “Ah, guapo, guapo,” shouted another drag queen, resplendent as Ursula from The Little Mermaid. She made a beeline for Ed and James, kissing them both on the cheeks before plunging their faces into her bosom. They gasped as they came up for air and she blew kisses. “It’s bloody mental this year.” James grinned. The parade tailed off, leaving the crowd to disperse. Every bar had rainbow flags and cheap shots, but several years’ experience had taught Ed that Maspalomas Pride was a marathon, not a sprint…although the glint in James’ eye said he’d happily hit the booze. “Right. Come on, you,” Ed said. “Let’s get some supplies and have a disco nap. Keep your strength up.” “Spoilsport,” James replied. They broke off from the crowd and wandered down an alley towards the apartment they’d rented. It was so close to everything that they’d snapped it up the second they’d come home last year. James put his shirt on and walked with a spring in his step. Ed caught sight of them both in a boutique window. The drag queen had been right. They did make a handsome couple. Six-foot-three James had piercing blue eyes, a receding hairline that he shaved and lightly tan skin. Ed, on the other hand, had long dark curls, a beard and an even deeper tan from working outdoors most of his life. Once inside, the cool relief in the supermarket made Ed gasp. It had been so hot in the middle of that crowd. James stood by the huge fan, letting his shirt billow behind him. “What are you like?” Ed chuckled, picking up a basket and starting to think about what they needed. James followed him up the aisle. Ed picked up some juice and bits to snack on. He absolutely refused to turn the cooker on in the apartment, but they had to survive, didn’t they? He turned and saw James holding up eggs, bread and cheese. “Please can I have your French toast for breakfast?” James asked with his pathetic puppy-dog face. Ed sighed. “Not a chance, buster. You can take me out for French toast.” James slowly dropped the items in the basket. “But no one makes it like you do. You’re the best French toast chef this side of Paris.” Ed couldn’t resist those eyes. “Fine, seeing as it’s you.” “Thank you, Eduardo,” James said with a wink. “I’ll make it worth your while.” It made Ed cross when James called him that and he bloody knew it. “Will you now?” “Definitely.” “Then you’ve definitely got a deal.” Ed went to kiss him but leapt like a scalded cat as James put a hand on his chest and pushed him away. “What are you doing?” James whispered, checking around the deserted aisle to see if anyone had seen them. Ed’s chest still stung from where James’ fingertips had rejected him. “Nothing.” He continued walking up the aisle but could sense James wasn’t following him and spun round. James had that confused face he used to pull in primary school when asked a particularly difficult question. Ed had found it adorable then and he still did. “What is the matter with you?” James asked calmly. It drove Ed mad that he never seemed to lose his cool. Ed threw the basket down on the floor with a clatter. “Ten minutes ago, you were happy to kiss a drag queen and take your shirt off. Now you push me away?” James snatched up the basket. “Are we having an argument in the fucking shampoo aisle?” “No, James. We couldn’t do that because someone might hear us,” Ed replied and stormed past him and out of the shop. Tears were threatening to escape as he dashed across the busy street and down another alley which led to their apartment. He had the key and let himself into the dusty stairway where they’d kissed on nearly every step after they’d got home the night before. Today he stomped up each one, desperately trying to leave his anger on them but only feeling more uptight the higher he climbed. By the time he got inside, the tears had gone and he paced the apartment. James would be here any minute and Ed really didn’t want to ruin the holiday by having a row. He grabbed a beer from the fridge and walked out onto the balcony. The dull thud of the dance music from the huge party a stone’s throw away swept across the rooftops. Gaggles of men would be dancing in each other’s arms. Not afraid of anything. Ed had always known he was attracted to men, but there had only ever been one he’d truly wanted. The man charging across the street below with a bag of shopping. He took a long slug of the cold beer and waited for the intercom to sound. It didn’t take long before the harsh buzz filled the room. With a sigh, he wandered over. “Are you going to let me in?” James’ crackly voice questioned him. Ed pushed the button and replaced the receiver. As a couple, they weren’t the type to be constantly arguing and making up. They achieved this mainly as Ed did everything he could to keep the peace. He hated confrontation. It upset him and he’d replay it over and over, long after James had forgotten about it. But he’d started this one and now James’ footsteps echoed on the stairs. He would soon be wanting answers and Ed just wasn’t ready to have the conversation he’d been practising for a while now. He went out onto the balcony again. James had a habit of filling a room and could be totally overpowering. Ed had always been more the type to shrink and marvel at how James could find a way to talk to anyone. James came through the wooden panelled door and threw the shopping bag down onto the glass dining table. “Are you going to talk to me?” he asked, joining Ed on the balcony. He took his beer from his hand and had a swig. Ed got up and padded inside. James’ eyes bored into him as he got another drink from the buzzing fridge. It annoyed him that James had left the door open. He worried about mosquitos getting in, but the look on James’ face hadn’t lessened any and he thought it best to leave it for now. “I’m still waiting, Ed.” Ed went back outside and sat on the rickety old chair. “Why couldn’t you kiss me?” he asked eventually. “You know why,” James said, leaning against the railing. “What if someone sees us?” Ed threw his hands up in the air. “We’re miles away from anyone we know. And who cares if they do?” “It’s just not my thing. You know it isn’t.” But what if it’s mine? Ed couldn’t face carrying on this conversation. They had dinner plans for the evening and he had no intention of eating with a cloud hanging over them. “Fine, whatever. I’m sorry I caused a scene. It just hurt me, you know?” He got up to put the shopping away. James grabbed hold of his arm and drew him inward, wrapping his arms around his shoulders. Ed could smell the citrussy aftershave James had bought at the airport. It worked well on him, and he allowed himself to be drawn into a hug. “You daft bugger. I love you no matter what. I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you and I’d bloody kill anyone who did.” Feeling the strong arms resting on his shoulders made everything all right again. It always had. “Come here,” James said with a glint in his eye. He moved Ed so he faced out to the whole of Maspalomas and stood behind him, lifting his arms like Leo did to Kate in Titanic. “I bloody love this man,” James shouted, almost deafening Ed in the process. “I always have and I always will.” A few people down below cheered. James spun him around and planted his lips on his. “There you go. Happy now?” With that, he went inside and busied himself putting the shopping away. Ed watched him, marvelling at how pleased with himself James seemed. But the nagging doubt inside Ed still gnawed away at him. James had done it to keep him sweet, not because he wanted to. This secret love affair seemed to be all James wanted. A week in the sunshine every year then sneaking around the village they lived in for the rest of it. Ed sighed and tried to shake the feeling that had been creeping into his mind for months. The feeling that this…wasn’t enough for him anymore.

Buy Links

Choose Your Store First For Romance

About the Author

Kristian Parker

I have written for as long as I could write. In fact, before, when I would dictate to my auntie. I love to read, and I love to create worlds and characters. I live in the English countryside. When I’m not writing, I like to get out there and think through the next scenario I’m going to throw my characters into. Inspiration can be found anywhere, on a train, in a restaurant or in an office. I am always in search of the next character to find love in one of my stories. In a world of apps and online dating, it is important to remember love can be found when you least expect it. Follow Kristian on Facebook.

Giveaway

Enter for the chance to win a $50.00 First for Romance Gift Card! Competition hosted by Totally Entwined Group. a Rafflecopter giveaway https://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com/launch.js
Release Blitz

Harley’s Choice

NOW LIVE: “Harley’s Choice” by Meadow Schmidt. Standalone paranormal young adult novella.

Buy Links:
Books2read.com/HarleysChoice

Author: Meadow Schmidt
Cover Design: Esther E. Schmidt
Release Day: June 7, 2022

Harley – Growing up all I’ve ever known is the task my kind need to fulfill; breaking curses. I’m not supposed to have feelings or want the life humans get after their curse is broken. Yet, I long for the impossible. One chance is all I need until trust is broken and betrayal becomes deadlier than my dream turning into a nightmare.

Ren – I’m not supposed to like her but the girl from another world is captivating. When my brother forges a plan for revenge, I have no other choice but to play along.

One choice can be life changing in all the right ways, but it may also lead to heartbreak, despair, and ultimately losing the one who matters most.

* Harley’s Choice is a clean and wholesome young adult paranormal romance novella *