Obsessed with learning the origins of the cosmos, the actual meaning of life, and the true purpose of civilization, a fine Scotsman named Fingal T. Smyth dedicates himself to the study of Plato’s most extraordinary ideas. Convinced of Plato’s belief that humankind possesses any and all innate knowledge deep within the collective unconscious mind, Fingal soon conducts a series of bold, pioneering occult-science experiments by which to resolve the riddle of the universe once and for all. However, Fingal forgets how violent and perilous the animal impulses that reside in the deepest recesses of the unconscious mind. And when Fingal unleashes a mysterious avatar of his innate knowledge, the entity appears as a burning man and immediately seeks to manipulate innocent and unsuspecting people everywhere into immolating themselves. Now, with little hope of returning the fiery figure into his being, Fingal must capture his nemesis before it destroys the world.
EXCERPT
Autumn, 1907: late one morning, some kind of torrid, invisible beast seemed to wrap itself all around Fingal T. Smyth’s body. Each one of his toes twitching fiercely, he exited the castle and scanned the distant, Scottish Highlands. Go back where you came from. As the entity wrapped itself tighter all about his person, Fingal blinked back his tears. I’m melting, I am. Aye, it’s the heat of fusion.
Gradually, the beast’s heartbeat became audible—each pulsation. At the same time, too, the illusory heat of transformation emitted an odor as of oven-roasted peppercorns dissolving in a cup of burnt coffee.
Over by the gatehouse, Fräulein Wunderwaffe appeared—the little German girl wearing a plain-sewn robe and square-crown bowler. In that moment, she no longer seemed to be a sickly child of seven years: her inscrutable expression resembled that of a wise, indifferent cat.
Perhaps even some kind of lioness. Fingal cringed, and he recalled a fragment of conversation from three weeks earlier.
“She suffers from a most unnatural pathology, an anguished, maniacal obsession with cats,” Doktor Hubertus Pflug had explained. “Ever since the poor girl was a baby, she has always regarded it her fate to one day metamorphose into a glorious panther, for she believes herself to be ein Gestaltwandler. Do you know this word? It means shapeshifter and refers to someone who possesses the power to take the form of anything in nature.”
The heat radiated up and down Fingal’s spine now, and his thoughts turned back to the present. Aye, it’s a change of phase. I’m melting into a chemical compound. Despite all, he greeted the girl and willed himself to flash a grin.
AUTHOR Bio and Links
OLYMPUS DIGITAL CAMERA
M. Laszlo is an aging recluse who lives in Bath, Ohio. Rumor holds that his pseudonym is a reference to Victor Laszlo, a character in the classic film Casablanca. On the Threshold is his first release with the acclaimed, Australian hybrid house AIA Publishing. Oddly, M. Laszlo insists that his latest work, On the Threshold, does in fact provide the correct answer to the riddle of the universe.
Forever We Fall: A Dark MM Romance Meg Everly (Pieces of Us, #2) Publication date: November 26th 2024 Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Dark Romance, LGBTQ+, Romance
A love worth dying for.
Hotaru Kido
Leaving Japan was bad. Leaving sh*tty London is worse. Why? My destination. Willoughby Ridge Boarding School.
It smells as old as it is. No one can find the place on a map. And it’s boys only. Did you hear that last bit? No. F*cking. Girls.
Even the teachers. Male. The only pair of t*ts for kilometers belong to the headmaster’s hot little secretary. That’s why I got myself in trouble and am sitting in the office when he walks in.
This guy is new. He’s gaunt and terrified of the big man behind him. No one seems to notice the wince when he sits or the way he catalogs the guy’s every move. I do.
If I’d stayed in class that day, my life would have been a billion times easier. If given the chance, would I have chosen to keep it simple or put myself between him and his tormentor?
Arlo Judge
When your parents and brother die in a freak accident, you certainly think that’s the worst that could happen. It’s not. I’ve seen the depth of h*ll. Felt the burn. Lived the agony.
When I’m deposited in the middle of nowhere boarding school, I’m relieved for the first time in a long time. Only my suitemate sees too much. He gives me hope when I know there is none.
In him, I find comfort and friendship that can’t last. My tormentor won’t allow it.
With his care and kindness, I see a way out. I have to finish my journey through h*ll to get there. I don’t know what will be left of me, of us, when I get to the other side.
“Thank you?” he scoffs. “Why on earth are you thanking me for that?”
One day, he’ll learn not to speak to me in front of the class. If he has any semblance of a brain, it’ll be today.
I sling my bag over my shoulder and head for the door. When I’m on his level and standing several inches taller than him, I grin.
“It will give us, Bridgeport and me, a chance to discuss your subpar teaching skills and your nightly visits to a certain student’s room.” The class gasps. “Plus, the headmaster’s office has to be more interesting than this class.”
Before he can formulate a response, I’m out the door and headed for the main office. The classroom erupts into chaos behind me.
I’m smiling for the first time since I arrived at this awful place.
Have I actually seen him visiting another student’s room? No. But he doesn’t know that. And I like to fuck with people. They’re pretty easy to manipulate. I don’t know why, but people always have been. Easy to read. Easy to influence. Puppets, most of them.
No one is in the hallways. All the tenth through thirteenth years are in class. They separate us from the first through fifth, sixth through ninth, and then the rest of us. I haven’t seen the whole school come together, but I heard they do for the beginning and end of the year celebrations.
Can’t wait.
I exit our building, head across campus, and shove through the main office entrance. The place is bustling. A lady behind the desk is on the phone. Or should I say the lady, as in the only one? I sit in the waiting area, put my backpack on the chair beside me, and drink her in.
Blond hair pulled back at the nape. Glasses sit on the bridge of her nose. A cardigan hugs her shoulders and meets with little buttons at the center of her chest. Her breasts aren’t large, but they’re the biggest in these parts. They’re big enough to fill my mouth and tempt my tongue.
She clocks me and automatically gives me the hold-on-a-minute finger. Then her gaze meets mine.
Her pink lips part. Her throat works on a big swallow. She turns in her seat and faces the wall. A blush creeps up the side of her neck, and she fidgets with her hair.
Yeah, she remembers me. I chatted her up real good while my father signed my life away. She made things bearable. She can make things better than bearable. Just the warm, wet spot I need to forget about this horrid place for a bit.
My smile is back.
It’s a good day.
The door opens, and Headmaster Bridgeport enters. He holds the door for a big man with wide shoulders and a civil smile on his lips. A smile that I don’t buy. Not for one pence and not for one second.
There’s evil behind his gaze.
Now I’m the one swallowing. Gulping really. The hairs on the back of my neck go up. My pulse thrums in my stomach.
“Sit there.” The man’s fat index finger points toward me. I fight the urge to squirm, and I don’t fucking squirm for anyone. “I’ll speak with the headmaster.”
Threat coats the man’s words. No one else seems to pick up on it, though. Not the secretary. Not the young office workers in the back. Not the dumb-as-dirt headmaster. His dog, that ugly motherfucker, diverts from his master’s office to cower behind Miss Booth’s desk. The only smart one of the lot. He can sense the bad coming from that guy and gets the hell out of Dodge.
While the two men continue to the headmaster’s office, a guy materializes from behind the nightmarish man.
His spine is ramrod straight, and his chin is high. He looks strong and regal and also scared out of his fucking mind. No one else could probably tell, but I’m sneaky and stupidly good at reading people. It’s a gift…and a curse.
His eyes are intent on the man, hyper-focused, even as he sits with perfect posture. He releases a small bag gently on the floor. It’s a ratty duffel the size of a carry-on. There’s a wince as his ass meets the chair two away from mine. He favors his right side as though sporting an injury on his left. His hands are fists, and his jaw is screwed so tight it looks like he’s about to crack a molar.
The door closes, and the evil man disappears.
It’s as if the guy next to me takes his first breath of the entire day. It practically shakes the damn room. He blinks as though just taking in the world around him. He clocks the secretary first but doesn’t really see her and all she has to offer. Maybe he doesn’t yet know that she’s the only slice for miles.
Looks like he’ll learn soon enough.
This is for sure the new kid everyone’s buzzing about. He’s wearing a bespoke suit that’s two sizes too big for him instead of the school uniform.
If I’d seen him before, I’d remember.
His isn’t a face I’ll forget.
Author Bio:
Meg Everly writes stories with sentiment, smut, and love with no bounds.
Told in alternating timelines, this gripping mystery about a PI and her quest for answers is full of twists and turns, perfect for fans of Allison Brennan and Gytha Lodge.
Struggling private investigator Kate Myles is shattered to learn her late father isn’t her biological dad. She’s still reeling when she discovers that an unknown distant relative is the prime suspect in a decades-old murder investigation. Trying to convince her to take on the case for free, an old colleague recommends her as an investigator for a recent arson murder in the same small town.
After giving up on a failed acting career, Abby Coburn is starting over as a promising social work student. With her life on the right track, she’s determined to help her brother, Jacob, whose meth addiction triggered a psychotic break and descent into crime. But when Abby dies in a fire that kills two other people and destroys part of the town, the police immediately suspect Jacob.
As the Coburn family grapples with the tragedy, Kate begins unraveling the cold case but finds herself caught in the middle of an emotional minefield. Pretty soon, she discovers that this town is full of dark secrets, and as she comes closer and closer to figuring out the truth, Kate must solve both murders before she becomes the next victim.
Praise for Burn This Night:
“The twists keep coming in this devilish PI mystery . . . Lisa Unger fans will devour this.” ~ Publishers Weekly
“Solid, heartfelt spadework into an alarming range of graves.” ~ Kirkus Reviews
“A true page turner . . . Full of twists, turns, and suspects.” ~ Book Review Crew
“Burn This Night is a fast-paced thriller that masterfully utilizes alternating perspectives to tell an absorbing, character-driven mystery. This is an electrifying read that had me engaged and on the edge of my seat until the very end!” ~ Elle Grawl, Amazon Charts bestselling author of One of Those Faces and What Still Burns
“An absorbing read told from multiple layered perspectives, Kenna ranges from finely observed domestic scenes to adept portrayals of grimy addicts living on the ragged edge. Burn This Night is smart and satisfying.” ~ Adam Plantinga, author of The Ascent
“Burn This Night is an utterly-absorbing mystery. Alex Kenna skillfully weaves a tale of two women who both face emotional and physical danger as they fight for truth and family love. Kenna masterfully draws the reader into the dark exploration of the secrets hidden in small towns and the depths some will go to hide the truth. With fiendishly smart dialogue, a captivating setting and a plot that keeps you on the edge of your seat, Burn This Night is absolutely fantastic!” ~ Elise Hart Kipness, author of Lights Out
“A dark, lyrical crime novel, Burn This Night weaves a complex and twisty spell about addiction, family ties, and how sins of the past can’t stay buried. Kate Myles is a great addition to LA’s canon of troubled PIs—real, flawed, smart, and very human—and I can’t wait to see what’s next for her.” ~ Halley Sutton, USA Today bestselling author of The Hurricane Blonde
Book Details:
Genre: Mystery/Thriller – Private Detective Published by: Crooked Lane Publication Date: November 12, 2024 Number of Pages: 256 ISBN: 9781639109371 (ISBN10: 1639109374) Series: Kate Myles private detective series, 2 Book Links:Amazon | Barnes & Noble | BookShop.org | Goodreads | Penguin Random House Books
Read an excerpt:
PROLOGUE
Eight Months Ago—Grace
My eyes shot open when I heard the yelping. Barney was going to wake the baby. I dove toward the old dog, grabbed his snout, and held it closed with both hands. “Shh,” I pleaded.
I lowered one hand and rubbed Barney’s back, trying to calm him. He let out a whine, and like clockwork, Liam started to cry. I closed my eyes, sucked in a deep breath, and braced myself for another late-night nursing session. My body felt heavy with milk and stress and exhaustion.
Carefully, I scooped up the howling baby, carried him over to the rocking chair, and lifted my T shirt to feed him. Liam quieted down and nestled against me. I sniffed his hair and stroked his cheek as we rocked back and forth. Part of me wanted to stay like this all night. But a bigger part of me longed to be under the covers, passed out in a warm oblivion.
I heard the shower turn on down the hall. Ted must be back from serving his warrant. A few months ago, he’d gotten smart with a lieutenant, who then started feeding him late-night assignments. These frequent absences were brutal now that I was back from maternity leave and needed sleep to function at work.
Barney whined again and clawed at the bedroom door. Clutching Liam, I rose to let the dog out of the room.
I looked down at the baby, who was asleep and making little catlike snores. With slow, deliberate steps, I made my way toward the crib and lowered him until his back rested against the fabric. But the change in angle caused his eyes to open and his lungs to inflate. Then came the cry—and Barney ran back to the bedroom, joining Liam in a horrible wailing duet. I reached out toward the dog and felt wet fur. Damn it—Barney must have peed in the house. Hot tears ran down my cheeks. What I wouldn’t give for one night’s sleep.
The door opened and Ted walked in with a towel around his waist. “I need help,” I snapped.
“What?” asked Ted, surprised by my tone.
My eyes were closed, and I was crying. But Ted couldn’t see that in the dark. He just sensed the anger in my voice. I knew it wasn’t his fault that the baby wouldn’t sleep, that the dog couldn’t hold it, and that his boss was a jerk. But I’d reached my limit, and Ted was the only living being in earshot who understood human language.
“Barney peed in the house. Take Liam so I can let the dog out before he does it again. Just try to get him back to sleep.” I placed the screaming, wriggling infant in Ted’s arms before either of them could protest.
Flipping on the hall light, I made my way to the kitchen. Barney scampered ahead of me, spinning in circles. I threw on Ted’s faded hoodie. It reeked of old sweat, but I was too tired to care. I hooked Barney’s leash to his collar, and bracing myself for the cold, I unlocked the back door and stepped outside.
The Santa Anas blew hard, and I shivered as cold air soaked through the hoodie’s weave. I could hear the Jeffrey pines rustle in the wind. Thrusting my hands into the central pocket, I rubbed them together for warmth.
A smoky odor hung in the air—maybe the residue of a neighbor’s barbecue dinner. But the wind should have blown away the scent by now.
Barney tugged at his leash. I let him drag me toward the street. Now that we were outside, he wouldn’t be satisfied without a walk, and it might clear my head as well.
The sky was lighter than I’d expected. Idlewood doesn’t have streetlights. It’s a conscious decision to preserve the log-cabins-in-the-woods feel of the place. Darkness adds to the storybook charm, and it can be hard to find your way on moonless nights. But the sky had an orange-gray glow that reminded me of LA smog. Maybe it was later than I thought, almost morning.
Barney tugged on his leash, half-dragging me up the road toward the intersection. He seemed agitated, and I wondered what had gotten into him. As we passed the Hernandez’s place, our footsteps activated the motion sensor, and the automatic light above their garage snapped on with an electric hum.
I noticed something floating in the air. Tiny particles, like gray snow or dryer lint. The flecks danced in the air, and Barney snapped at one as it fluttered toward his jaws. The smell of smoke was growing stronger.
Oh my god.
Clutching Barney’s leash, I ran the rest of the way to the cross street, which cut straight to the mountain. High in the pines, I saw an orange glow—luminous against the dark sky. My vision tunneled, and all I could see was the fire on the hillside. The light was near Abby’s cabin. But I couldn’t tell how near.
I grabbed my phone and scanned my recent calls, but it had been weeks since I’d spoken to my sister, and her name didn’t pop up. I pulled up my contact list and clicked on her name. After four rings, a cheerful recording prompted me to leave a message. Maybe she’s already fled. No, Abby would’ve called if she were awake. She might hate me, but she’d warn me about a wildfire.
I called back, praying that her cell wasn’t on silent. Come on Abby, answer the phone. When I heard the prerecorded message again, I started to panic. I left a voicemail: “Abby, it’s Grace. There’s a fire by your cabin—you need to leave now!”
The orange glow was getting bigger as the Santa Anas blew the flames toward Idlewood. It was how I’d always imagined an erupting volcano would look, with lava flowing down its sides. I called Abby a third time, cursing under my breath. Across the street, a door opened, and an old man stepped outside, holding a little white dog. “There’s a fire!” he shouted.
I looked at him and then back at the mountain, ringing phone pressed against my ear. Dammit, Abby, pick up! “My son works at the fire station,” said the man. “They’re about to put out an alert. We have to evacuate. The whole town could burn.”
“My sister’s cabin is on the hillside, and she’s not answering,” I shouted. “Can you call your son and tell him someone’s up there?”
I heard a chime and looked down at my phone. It was a text from the fire department, ordering us to leave Idlewood. But my feet stayed planted. My sister was on that mountain, with nothing but a narrow dirt road leading down to safety. If the fire overtook the path, she’d be trapped.
“Jeffrey, it’s Pop,” I heard the old man say. “There’s a lady here whose sister has a cabin near the fire.”
Hearing those words unleashed a fresh wave of panic. Abby’s cheerful answering machine message sounded for a fifth time in my ear. “Abby, get out of there!” I screamed into the phone.
“We have to go,” said the neighbor. “This thing could spread faster than they can contain it.”
My phone chimed and I looked down at the screen, hoping to see Abby’s name, but it was a voicemail from Ted. Before I could call him back, a text flashed across my screen: FIRE—COME HOME NOW
I looked back and forth from my screen to the mountain. My sister was up there. But my husband and son were at the house. I couldn’t wait any longer. I tugged at Barney’s leash and ran home.
***
Excerpt from Burn This Night by Alex Kenna. Copyright 2024 by Alex Kenna. Reproduced with permission from Alex Kenna. All rights reserved.
Author Bio:
Alex Kenna is a mystery writer, prosecutor, and amateur painter. She lives in Los Angeles with her husband, son, and giant schnauzer. Alex’s first novel, WHAT MEETS THE EYE, was a 2023 Shamus Award Finalist for best first P.I. novel. Her second novel, BURN THIS NIGHT, is coming November 12, 2024.
A Vampire’s Star Marie-Claude Bourque (The Order of the Black Oak – Vampires, #5) Publication date: November 19th 2024 Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance
A VAMPIRE’S STAR: An Unexpected Pregnancy Slow-Burn Paranormal Romance
When music producer and banshee Tilly Davenport learns that her pregnancy puts her and her child at risk from evil sorcerers who would use her as sacrifice to unleash powerful magic, she has no choice but appear at her powerful vampire baby daddy’s concert to ask for his protection.
Easy-going Montreal immortal and rock star Cass St-Amand is shocked when his one-night flame shows up heavily pregnant with his child, disturbing his carefree lifestyle. But panic gets the best of him when a mysterious prophecy threatens the life of his expected child, and he vows to protect mother and baby at any cost.
If you love loyal tough guys with hearts, steadfast heroines and satisfying slow-burn paranormal romance, the Black Oak World is for you.
Bell Center, Montreal, Québec October, Present Time
Mathilda Ethel Davenport! Come on, girl. Tilly chided herself in the chilly, autumn night as she cradled her pregnant belly under the stark streetlights behind the Montreal Bell Center. It’s his child. He’s the only one who can keep you safe.
She rallied the courage she needed to dive into the horde of Cass St-Amand’s adoring fans waiting outside to catch a peek at their favorite rock star after his show.
The midnight air was crisp around her, the wind picking up a few dead maple leaves littering the concrete sidewalk. Yet the fall breeze did little to dilute the mixed scent of cheap perfume and body odor emanating from the boisterous mob awaiting their idol to exit the concert venue.
Standing amidst the downtown glass skyscrapers and centuries-old stone buildings, most of Cass’s superfans were not yet twenty-five, sporting jeans, leather jackets, or bodycon dresses under tiny coats.
Tilly winced and rubbed her belly once more. Her little munchkin was his baby alright. Conceived in the middle of a frigid winter, exactly thirty-six weeks ago today.
Would he believe it was his? Vampires, even immortal ones, did not father children.
Except that Cass had chosen to spend those few fateful nights not with just any woman, but a supernatural one—Tilly was a banshee.
One who walked with Death. Everything was possible.
She bit the inside of her mouth at the task ahead of her.
He had no idea she was pregnant with his child. How would he react?
He would have to acknowledge he was the father. But she’d cross that bridge when she’d get there. For now, she just had to reach him.
Author Bio:
Marie-Claude Bourque is a Montreal-born Seattle-based author of slow-burn paranormal romance and the winner of the American Title V award with her first novel ANCIENT WHISPERS.
Her writing features modern-day fantasy skillfully weaved into infinitely romantic supernatural stories between smart strong women and complex passionate heroes.
Off the Bench Tiffany Noelle Chacon (Sports in the Sunshine State RomComs, #2) Publication date: November 19th 2024 Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
Austin Taylor, once an undrafted free agent and a third-string quarterback, was never supposed to be the starting QB for the Tampa Bay Bucs.
Except now, he is.
Dani Marshall, the Bucs’ data analyst whiz, is all in—betting her career, and even her car, on Austin’s success. The real challenge? Keeping her heart out of the game.
Austin
When the achingly gorgeous Dani Marshall shows up in my tiny Ohio town to sign me to the Bucs, I can’t say no. I expect to ride the bench in obscurity for my entire NFL career. What I don’t expect is to become the starting QB in my first month—or to end up as a viral GIF, tripping over my cleats.
Dani’s betting on me, but I’m starting to think her faith might be misplaced. The closer we get, the more her walls stay mile-high—even as I’m being pulled to her as surely as the moon pulls the tides.
Dani
Research shows that spending time together and sharing personal goals increases the likelihood of developing romantic feelings by 30%. (I will not be part of this statistic. I will not be part of this statistic. I will NOT be part… oh crap.)
After I sign Austin Taylor to the Bucs, I make it my mission to stay away from him—he’s too attractive for me, and, as an absolute rule, I don’t date athletes. Not after what happened last time.
But when I make a bet with my work nemesis over Austin Taylor’s performance, my car is on the line. Now I have to get involved.
The problem? The more I work with Austin Taylor, the more afraid I am that he’s going to steal my heart.
This is the first novel in the Sports in the Sunshine State RomCom series: a collection of interconnected, clean sports romances, each featuring its own unique love story. While all books are linked, they can be enjoyed as standalones. You’ll enjoy high-action sports sequences, sizzling chemistry, with no cursing or smut.
This scene picks up after the NFL draft, where Austin did not get drafted. His two friends, Omar and Caleb, take him out to try to cheer him up.
As I peruse the new photographs in my buddy Omar’s bar, my eye catches on a girl walking into the bar. She’s tall and elegant, gliding as if she’s not even touching the ground. I find myself taking in every detail of her, because I can’t help it. Her braids are caught in a twisting bun at the top of her head. Her almond-shaped eyes are assessing the room, as if she’s looking for someone. Her dark cheekbones shimmer with a mesmerizing blend of girl magic that I don’t understand. I admit I linger a little too long on her full lips. Her long neck reminds me of a dancer—she’s as graceful as a ballerina. I’ve only gotten to her shoulders when Caleb notices my perusal.
“Ask her to come over here,” he says, mouth full with chicken wings.
I force my eyes from her, feeling greedy for more. I push my IPA away, wondering if the pull I feel toward her is more a product of the alcohol rather than some kind of supernatural tug she has.
“I’m not going to go just talk to some random girl who’s clearly here to meet someone else.”
“Maybe she’s here to meet a hunky football player,” Omar says with a smirk.
I snort, but don’t speak the words that come to my mind: I’m not a football player anymore.
And it’s the first time since the draft ended that I’ve felt a deep twinge of grief. I may have convinced myself that I’m content with how things worked out, but I’ve been a football player my whole life. I don’t know how not to be a football player. I sigh and half-heartedly dip a chip in the artichoke dip when I realize Caleb and Omar are still looking at me expectantly. “Guys, I’m not going to go talk to her. It’s just not who I am.”
“Tell me, exactly, what you are, man. Because I don’t get it.” Omar’s got that fire in his dark brown eyes that always makes me a little uncomfortable, like he’s about to start a fight. “From where I’m sitting, it seems like you’re just someone who lets opportunities slip from his fingers without a fight.”
“Dang, bro, chill,” Caleb says to Omar as he reaches for more nachos.
“It’s fine,” I say.
Omar plants his hands on the table, standing. “It’s not fine.” And then he walks away.
“Who got his panties in a bunch?” I mutter.
“He’s overcompensating for your lack of feelings over the draft thing,” Caleb says in a fleeting moment of insight. I grunt and return to my IPA. But I just about spit it out when I realize Omar’s gone over to talk to the girl. I mutter under my breath as I set the IPA back on the table, where it sloshes over the edge, getting beer all over my hand. I scramble for a napkin, keeping my focus on wiping up my mess as I sense Omar and the girl walking over to our table.
When she’s beside us, I finally glance up. Looking at her up close takes my breath away, and I’m pathetically speechless.
“Austin Taylor?” she says as I’m momentarily distracted by the mesmerizing way her lips move. Then I’m confused about how she knows my full name.
“Uh, yeah?” I’m struck next by how closed off her features are. This girl didn’t come over here to flirt with a guy—and the realization cuts almost as deep as my football future.
Then, she says the craziest words I’ve ever heard: “My name is Dani Marshall and I’m here to sign you to the Tampa Bay Bucs.”
Want to find out what happens with Dani and Austin? Pre-order Off the Bench here. While you wait, read the first two chapters on my website here.
Author Bio:
Tiffany LOVES love. Married to her middle school sweetheart, this award-winning novelist adores writing stories with heart, humor, and depth. As a five-time national equestrian champion, she loves sports romances with heart-pounding action sequences and a whole lot of sweet romance. She received her Masters of Fine Arts in Creative Writing from the University of Tampa. A homeschooling mama, she lives in Tampa with her husband and their two wild and crazy sons. She loves hearing from readers and would love to connect with you on any social media platform at authortiffanynoellechacon or on her website at tiffanynoellechacon . com.
The Forest and the Sea: A Cinderella Retelling Tracy Zumwalt Publication date: November 12th 2024 Genres: Fairy Tales, Retelling, Romance, Young Adult
Reynette is desperate to escape the servitude of her step family at Laudermann Manor and the lustful desires of the loathsome, Sir Bjorn.
Lord Ehrhart seeks to please his father and their subjects by securing a future wife and future Duchess of Badenberg.
Will a chance meeting in the woods lead them to find their hope and future within each other’s arms?
The people of Badenberg are preparing to celebrate the anticipated, Midsummer Festival.
In the worn hallways of Laudermann Manor, a young servant girl longs for freedom and love. Bound by duty to her cruel step family, she yearns to attend the festival and meet a kind, brave suitor who will seek her floral wreath and therefore, declare his intent to pursue her.
Her hope takes a turn when her wreath is sought by a mysterious, yet somehow familiar man.
Meanwhile, Lord Ehrhart, son of the Duke, is under growing pressure to find a bride. Trusting his future to the Duke’s advisor, Ehrhart agrees to a series of balls to seek the next Duchess of Badenberg.
But, behind the festivities and beautiful floral decor, a dangerous scheme unfolds— the Duke’s brother and his ruthless son, Sir Bjorn, conspire to seize the Duke’s position, putting love, power and loyalty to the ultimate test.
Help arrives through an unexpected ally as Reynette and Ehrhart seek to unravel the web of deceit and hidden motives.
Extravagant balls are thrown, secrets are revealed, and murderous plots are uncovered in thisreimagining of the Cinderella story.
His father and Badenberg needed him to find a suitable wife. Ludwig’s solution was to host the two balls and hope Ehrhart found a wife among the wealthy and titled of Badenberg. But, though Ehrhart had agreed to such a plan, he couldn’t help but feel he’d find a wife on his own terms. Would that be Beatrice? He stared down at his hands loosely wrapped around the reins. Beatrice was certainly a plausible solution to his problem, but could she be a woman he’d love for the rest of his life? She appeared interested in him and his attention, but did he truly know her intentions? He had meant what he’d told his sisters, he was interested in more than just a pretty face.
Suddenly, a loud thud echoed through the trees, followed by another and another. Then he heard a piercing crack to his left. Ehrhart peered up just in time to watch a tree fall along the path. The jarring movement and sound caused Storm to rear.
With his hold on the reins so loose, the sudden jolt sent Ehrhart out of his saddle and towards the ground.
He closed his eyes and braced for the impact, which came quickly. The wind was knocked out of him. He gasped and breathed deeply to restore the air to his lungs, but his vision was slow to clear. Squeezing his eyes tightly, he tried moving his limbs and muscles. His legs and arms moved without pain, but his back felt stiff from the fall. He opened his eyes, staring at the trees above him. Streaks of sunlight pierced the canopy.
To his left, he heard light footsteps drawing near. Someone was attempting to sneak up on him. He was vulnerable while lying on his back. An urge to protect himself flooded his senses. He grunted as he lifted his head and reached for the dagger concealed within his boot.
After drawing the knife from its sheath, he pulled the weapon into a defensive position near his face. The hilt was held securely in his palm while the blade rested upon his skin, extending up and past his wrist. He was still on the ground, but the knife gave him hope in defending himself.
He waited for the steps to get closer.
When they did, he swung his arm from his face and rolled to his left side, allowing him to look into the eyes of his would-be attacker.
Author Bio:
Tracy Zumwalt abandoned her dream of writing a novel over fifteen years ago.
But, through her daughter’s newfound love of fairytale romance, Tracy has revisited her once discarded bucket list item and entered into the world of fairytale retelling. She is all about the happily ever afters and finding inspiration in the world around her, whether that’s through exploring new places or simply savoring moments at home.
When Tracy is not crafting new stories, she is either on the move, staying active, or in the kitchen, cooking up plant-based meals to share with family and friends.
She lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and two children. Together, they’ve created a life committed to love, adventure and finding the joy in both the simple and complex moments of life.
The Dasher: Cindy’s Version Cindy Kehagiaras (Tennent Surf, #2) Publication date: October 9th 2024 Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
Lisa—My business is failing, my father disappeared, my brother is lazy, and my uncle just mansplained me—again. Ben is nothing I want right now, but he might be everything I need.”
Ben—My new brother-in-law, the legendary “Zen Shredder,” is making me launder my karma which is bullshit and interesting. The coolest man on the planet just married my spreadsheet-loving sister and is about to save Tennent Surf Company, making him Lisa Tennent’s hero.
I’m the one who should be her hero, yeah, me, a tattooed ex-con with anger issues. I’ll show her my friendship and loyalty and return her magic.
“The Dasher” is a friends-to-lovers, single father, over 40 romance sequel to “The Perpetual”- with GenX pop culture references and lessons in self-love as we age.
Lisa Tennent is the heiress of the “Tennent Surf Company” dynasty, and it’s about to go under. Her father, the patriarch, has disappeared, her brother is a lazy HIMBO, her debutante mother is uninterested, and her uncle just mansplained her—again. None of them will right the sinking ship; she has to do it herself. Thankfully, Jason Mattis, the legendary “Zen Shredder,” is back in Huntington Beach after twenty years and wants to help.
Ben’s new brother-in-law, the three-time world champion surfer Jason Mattis, has just made him an offer he can’t refuse. He’ll work as his assistant, and Jason will pay off his debts. That includes saving his former sponsor “Tennent Surf Company” and Lisa Tennent, who is in a familiar emotional and mental health crisis. Ben knows all about Lisa’s frustration and anger and makes it his mission to be the friend and lover Lisa needs. Only she doesn’t know it yet.
Author Bio:
🏆”The Perpetual,” my over 40-second chance romance, has won the coveted “Stiletto Award” by Contemporary Romance Writers in the Mid-length Contemporary Romance category.
BIO: My writing journey began after my 50th birthday, and the pandemic lockdown allowed me to write. Some of my stories have haunted my dreams for decades. When the characters shouted day and night, I knew I had to write about them. These days I love to read and write stories about second chances with GenX characters in over 40, later in life, and mature steamy romances.
My previous lives have been in advertising, fashion, and small business owner. I’ve made it my life’s ambition to push through the challenges of dyslexia to consume novels, poetry, and articles and tell my stories.
A proud native Californian, I live in Hermosa Beach, CA, with my husband of 17 years, two beautiful kids, and two spunky-rescue kitties.
Bloody is the Night Robin Jeffrey (The Night, #2) Publication date: November 12th 2024 Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance
Unbeknownst to humans, the werewolves of the world live in tight knit gangs, or “dens”, for protection from outsiders – and each other. Every major metropolis has one; to belong to a den is to have a family for eternity. Shaye Cassidy, an unhoused human woman scraping by on the streets of Los Angeles, hasn’t had anything close to a family in over ten years. Shaye left her home under a cloud to chase the dream of a new start, a dream that quickly turned into a nightmare; a nightmare that grows even more twisted when Shaye witnesses a werewolf killing a fellow unhoused man.
Andy Vasquez is a top member of Sangre Sagrada, second only to the den leader herself. When she tasks him with tracking down a werewolf gone rogue, someone who is killing humans for sport and risking the exposure of their world, Andy dedicates all his resources to the task. He couldn’t have predicted that the key to uncovering the identity of the rogue wolf would be a human woman, any more than he could have predicted that he would fall in love with her.
Now, Andy must protect Shaye not just from the rogue wolf, but also from those within his den who wish she would disappear. Shaye has her own secrets, however, and in the city of angels, everyone has a devilish side.
Sitting on the stool across the table was the slim man from the library. He looked me over with an unimpressed glaze to his eyes, leaning against the table, his breathing somewhat labored.
“Shaye Cassidy?” he said casually, as if we had arranged to meet here on a blind date.
I pushed away from the table, my eyes widening. “Shit–!”
Two massive hands clamped onto my shoulders. I tried to twist around, to twist out of their grip, but I might as well have been trying to squirm out of handcuffs. “Stay awhile,” said the silver-haired man behind me, pressing me down into the stool, squeezing hard, but not hard enough to be painful.
Heart in my throat, pounding against my skin like it was trying to escape, I watched as the dark-haired man slid himself on top of the plush green seat across from me, reaching forward and picking up a few pieces of hard-shelled candy out of the bowl as he settled himself. “How did you even get into a place like this?” he asked, an amused quirk to the corner of his mouth that set me on edge.
Even in the midst of the chaotic bar, his voice was deep, cool, and clear, like water from a mountain river. I watched as he threw the candy into his mouth piece by piece, and he returned my stare, his brows lifting over his dark eyes.
My tongue darted out to wet my suddenly dry lips. I cleared my throat. “Are you going to hurt me?”
His lips twitched up into a lightning strike smile that was gone almost as soon as it appeared. “No.” Tongue probing the inside of his cheek, he leaned forward across the table, so he didn’t have to shout. “Are you going to answer my question?”
His calmness grated on my raw nerves. I rolled my eyes and gestured towards the back of the club, past the dance floor. “Fire door alarm around the back is busted. Has been for almost a year.” As I shifted my weight on my seat, the man’s grip on my shoulders remained steady and firm. I grimaced at the pressure. “I noticed it when they hired me for a day to wash some dishes.”
The man looked in the direction I indicated and gave a harrumph, his shoulders rising and falling. He returned his attention to me, nodding. “Clever.”
Frowning, I gripped the edge of the table tightly. “I’m homeless, not blind.” I looked around. No one seemed to notice that I was under duress. If I started screaming, what would happen? What would anyone do? I decided not to risk it, sighing and staring at the man across from me instead. “I’m not stupid either. You’re Andy Vazquez, right?”
His calm facade cracked, if only slightly. This time he actually looked impressed, his eyes widening slightly, faint surprise clear in the opening of his mouth. “Ah, yeah.”
“What do you want?” I demanded.
“I thought you said you weren’t stupid.” He smiled, his eyes narrowing. “What would someone like me want with someone like you?”
“I don’t know,” I answered with unusual honesty, throwing one hand into the air. “I don’t even know who you are; not really. Just that you’re looking for me. You and the LAPD.” Looking him over more closely, a thought occurred to me. “Is that it? Are you a cop? Like a detective or something?”
As soon as the question was out of my mouth, I knew the answer was no. Getting a closer look at him, he couldn’t have been dressed less like a police officer. A part of my brain I had not used in a long time recognized the deceptively plain white dress shirt he was wearing as Louis Vuitton, meaning it cost somewhere close to a thousand dollars. The pants they were tucked into? Armani, over a thousand. The jacket? Even at this distance, I could tell: a single-breasted affair in virgin wool and silk – two thousand at least.
But it wasn’t just the clothes. It was the way he wore them.
Like they were strictly temporary.
Author Bio:
Robin Jeffrey can almost always be found cranking out punchy flash fiction, lyrical essays, or world-rich novels. Her writing has been published in magazines across the country and around the world. She currently calls the Pacific Northwest of the United States home, where she lives happily with her husband and their out of control comic book collection. She currently resides in the rainy Pacific Northwest. More of her work can be found on her website, RobinJeffreyAuthor.com.
The Crushing by Kerry Peresta is the fourth novel in the Olivia Callahan series. The more I get to know her, the more I love her…and her Wine, Whine, & Win group of friends.
Hannah had gotten married and moved to Pensacola, Florida. Hazel had moved there too. She’s ready for the quiet life. Olivia’s memory may never be fully restored, but she remembers enough to have built a business and pick up her personal life. Her home has been restored since the fire and she loves it. Sherry (it’s always so fun to see my name in a book) has become a part of the private investigating firm Olivia started. Callie lives behind Olivia’s house helping out when she can. Beth is a newcomer and works at the firm. She seems like a good fit. Monty is in prison, but refuses to keep his nose out of their business.
They haven’t heard from Hannah in a long time, so Sherry makes the trip to Pensacola. Patrick, Hannah’s husband says she’s around, just not available. Something seemed amiss before Sherry even got there.
We have more than one wolf hiding in sheep’s clothing and their lives will be put on the line while running through the swamps of Florida.
Poor Hunter. He is torn between two women. At times I feel bad for him, other times I feel like he keeps one on hold for when the other doesn’t work out. So far Olivia isn’t ready for a commitment, though she feels a rightness when they are together, wanting to reach out and kiss him. Will she or won’t she?
The Crushing by Kerry Peresta rolls along at a suspenseful pace. We have many culprits heaping bad things on the ladies. Some of the danger is right in front of their eyes.
To sum it up, the more I read the more suspenseful the story became, the more danger dogged their footsteps, the more complex the mystery became. I couldn’t figure out who was doing what and why and what the outcome would be. The ending left me with a comfortable feeling of relief. The ladies live on to fight another day.
4 Stars
SYNOPSIS
OLIVIA CALLAHAN SUSPENSE
The victim of a vicious assault six years ago that resulted in a traumatic brain injury, Olivia Callahan is now a private investigator with her own firm. The assault that almost took her life resulted in a spectacular metamorphosis. No longer the shy, passive introvert she once was, she’s become a driving and determined force. However, the lack of impulse control caused by her rewired brain causes her to run toward trouble instead of away from it.
When Olivia sends her colleague, Sherry, to the Florida panhandle to find a missing friend, Hannah; the search takes Sherry into the dark heart of an abusive, hostage situation. The man Hannah married is cruel, dangerous, and well-connected. Olivia reels in her favorite cop—Sergeant Hunter Faraday—for a discreet assist, and it soon becomes clear that Hannah’s new husband is adept at waging war against anything that blocks his way.
While rescuing Hannah is Olivia’s primary goal, her incarcerated ex-husband has other plans. He’s collected friends who support his obsessive need to punish her for her role in his murder conviction, and a time bomb is ticking.
As Olivia and Sherry battle to save Hannah, try to neutralize the fiendish plan of an ex bent on revenge, and endure a terrifying race for their lives through the Florida wetlands; a final betrayal waits patiently in the dark. Smiling.
Praise for The Crushing:
“Fans of Frieda McFadden and Lisa Jewell will stay up past their bedtimes devouring the latest thriller from Kerry Peresta! Haunted by her abusive ex-husband, P.I. Olivia Callahan had better keep her friends close and her enemies closer. Now, if she could only tell them apart. When one of her best friends goes missing in a Florida swamp, the clock is ticking. The suspense winds tighter on every page!” ~ Kelly Oliver, author of the Jessica James Mysteries
“The tension in Kerry Peresta’s The Crushing is off the chain. Chilling! ‘I can beat this,’ the captive whispers from her locked room. ‘I will escape.’ Taut. Gripping. Engrossing. Highly recommended!” ~ Tracy Clark, award-winning author of the Cass Raines Chicago mysteries and the Detective Harriet Foster series.
“Rich details, a strong, character-driven plot, and enough snaky twists and turns to give you vertigo – this fourth entry in Kerry Peresta’s Olivia Callahan series will have you sweating bullets and turning pages like a tornado, leaving you as breathless as a mile sprinter. There’s nothing less simple than a simple missing-persons case, and there are far worse things than gators in the dark, dank Florida boonies. Don’t believe me? Read The Crushing.” ~ J.R. Sanders, Shamus Award winning author of the Nate Ross novels.
Book Details:
Genre: Thriller, Suspense Published by: Level Best Books Publication Date: October 15, 2024 Number of Pages: 310 ISBN: 978-1-68512-770-1 Series:Olivia Callahan Suspense, Book Four Book Links:Amazon | Goodreads | Level Best Books
Read an excerpt:
PROLOGUE
Sherry crammed the phone against her ear as she dashed through the thick undergrowth, trudged across boggy marshes, and arrived at a feeder stream.
“Olivia! Olivia?”
Nothing.
“Dammit!” she muttered, shoving her cell back into her pocket. She calculated that the nearest town rested fifteen miles down the highway out here in Florida-cracker country, and holing up until the shooter emerged seemed the best option.
She should’ve known there’d be no service out here.
Where did he go? She scraped mud off her face and rubbed her sunburned cheeks. He actually fired a weapon. On no planet had she ever thought this little trek would become a fight for her life, yet here she stood, hands glued to the trunk of a huge palm, eyes darting back and forth across the marshy, pancake-flat wastelands of inland Florida. Behind her lay a wide body of water surrounded by suspicious-looking marsh grass and, she suspected, alligators…and in front of her lay miles of marshland and bedraggled palms spearing the sky.
Why had she volunteered for this assignment, again?
“I just had to get my investigator’s license,” she muttered. “Maybe I should’ve stayed put as Olivia’s assistant instead of private investigator. This isn’t quite how I envisioned the job.”
She rubbed her calves. How long had she been running? Fifteen minutes? Twenty? An hour? Where was Olivia?
The distant blast of gunfire reached her ears. A bullet sliced through the air and hit the tree she’d wrapped herself around, missing her hand by inches. Sherry felt her stomach freeze into a block of ice.
Wiping the sweat from her eyes, she slid her hand to the paddle holster on her belt, gripped her Smith & Wesson revolver, and released the safety strap. Another crack of gunfire erupted closer this time. She swallowed, hard. A whoosh of air zipped past a mere twelve inches in front of her nose. Sherry dropped to the ground like a stone. The spikey bushes on the ground dug into her arms, her chest, her legs. She located a slight rise about ten feet away, and hastily low-crawled through the weeds on her stomach, edged to the top of the incline, and threw herself over the top.
Breathing hard, she peeked out above the edge. The crack-crack-crack of shots fired caused her to dive for cover. She took a deep breath, wiped the sweat off her palms, and fired back a volley of her own. When silence fell, she relaxed against the incline and tugged out her phone. A signal!
With fumbling fingers, she pressed in Olivia’s number. She waited through one ring, then two, before her call was answered.
“Where are you?” Olivia’s anxious voice demanded. “Are you okay?”
Tears of relief trailed down her cheeks. She rattled off a description of her location. Her gaze trained on the best-case origination of shots fired, she whispered, “Olivia! I found Hannah. She’s exhausted and weak, but I’ve got her.” Sherry listened to Olivia’s instructions. “Okay. I’ll meet you at the airport, but…wait. I hear something,” she whispered, and stuck the phone back in her pocket. She gripped her weapon with both hands.
Minutes passed. Sherry tried to breathe.
Something shuffled through the grass. Her eyes sliced left, right.
The shuffling stopped.
The hum of cicadas intensified. She swatted at mosquitoes. Sweat trickled down her face.
Sherry adjusted her grip on her sidearm.
She strained to hear more footsteps, but only heard the faint squawk of herons and hoot of owls. The setting sun left a red slash on the horizon. Bats dipped and swooped above her.
She lowered her weapon, puzzled. Had one of her prior shots wounded her target?
Taking her time, she rose from her niche behind the incline.
A single shot burst from her adversary’s weapon and sizzled through the air.
She cried out in pain. The bullet had nicked her, the sting of a monster wasp. She groped her waist with her free hand and lifted it away wet with blood. Rage rushed through her chest and down her arms. She planted her legs wide and emptied her weapon in the direction of the shooter.
The phone in her pocket vibrated with a text as she reloaded.
Another bullet clipped her in the shoulder.
The sound of sirens wailed in the distance.
She collapsed.
***
Excerpt from The Crushing by Kerry Peresta. Copyright 2024 by Kerry Peresta. Reproduced with permission from Kerry Peresta. All rights reserved.
Author Bio:
Kerry Peresta is a suspense novelist, and her releases include The Deadening,The Rising, The Torching, and The Crushing, books one-four in the Olivia Callahan Suspense series; and Back Before Dawn, a standalone thriller, all published by Level Best Books Publishing. Her magazine articles have appeared in Hilton Head’s Local Life Magazine, The Bluffton Breeze, Lady Lowcountry, and Island Events Magazine. She spent twenty-five years in advertising as an account manager, creative director, editor, and copywriter. She is past chapter president of the Maryland Writers’ Association and a current member and presenter of Hilton Head Island Writers’ Network, South Carolina Writers Association, Pat Conroy Literary Center, International Thriller Writers, and the Sisters in Crime organization. Kerry is the mother of four adult kids, a flock of grandkids, and three cats. She and her husband moved to Hilton Head Island in 2015.
We Never Kissed Lia Fairchild Publication date: November 5th 2024 Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
The spark between Ava and Alex, her brother’s best friend, was always undeniable. So, Ava spent her life wondering why Alex had never claimed her lips.
Torn between loyalty and desire, Alex always kept Ava at a distance, leaving her to stand on the sidelines, watching him go through women faster than a beating heart.
No longer able to ignore the pull toward Alex, Ava drops everything in her life—including her boyfriend—to finally try to make things work between them. But surrendering to their deepest desires could ruin everything, including the fragile fabric of a shared family history.
I ordered one more and took my time finishing it as I waited for the guests to fill the room; maybe I could disappear among the crowds. Still, all eyes would be on me when I gave my toast. But there was only one pair of eyes that could destroy me tonight, and as I glanced over my shoulder, the woman who owned them was gliding toward the ballroom.
Fuck me.
Ava was naturally beautiful and typically wore little makeup, but tonight she could have just stepped out of the pages of a magazine. The gown she wore was a dark and elegant shade of red, almost burgundy. It hugged her curves to perfection and had one sleeve draping her arm in sheer red material. The floor-length dress had a slit that I had to tear my gaze from before I broke out into a sweat. I actually eyed the path that led back to the elevators, but now was not the time to turn tail and run.
I stalked after her, planning to…I wasn’t sure, but as she entered the room, I saw dozens of eyes turning her way—men and women. A sense of urgency shot through me; if I had the guts—and was the selfish bastard I wanted to be—I would drag her out of that place and take her back to my hotel room, where we’d stay until I properly worshiped her the way I’d only dreamed of.
I said her name, and she stopped short, hesitating a beat before she turned to face me.
Closing the distance between us, I said, “You’re breathtaking, Ava.” I’d never used that word in my life, but it felt appropriate and inappropriate all at once.
She grinned, but it only lasted a moment, and I knew something was coming. “Can we talk?”
“Dance with me,” I said without thinking. I took her hand and led her to the dancefloor but before we stepped foot on it, fear shot through me as my mind flew back to another time I’d held Ava in my arms.
Author Bio:
Bestselling author Lia Fairchild writes romance and women’s fiction. Fans of her books praise her endearing, real characters who become their own heroes.
Fairchild is addicted to the warmth of Southern California and holds a bachelor’s degree in journalism and a multiple-subject teaching credential. She is a wife and mother of two.
Look for updates on her and her books at http://www.liafairchild.com or follow her on Instagram at https://www.instagram.com/liafairchild/ or Facebook at http://www.facebook.com/lia.fairchild.author?fref=ts
