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Stars on Fire
-- EXCERPT: The four men looked up and studied her coolly. Kainan’s voice rumbled behind her. ‘Selene Munene, meet the Sable Riders, also known in our official capacity as The Sable Group.’ She stepped closer to the table and gazed at her new acquaintances as calmly as she could manage. The one closest to her was just as significant in size as Kainan, a hulking figure with a mass of short jet-black hair with blue streaks, a bushy black beard and silver grey eyes, with a stubborn jaw and a swathe of jagged scars down one side of his face. His massive feet were slung up and crossed on top of the table. The man beside him was also tall, with angular, dark features, a roughly shaven jaw, a beard and penetrating eyes with hazel irises ringed with glowing sapphire flecks. He leaned back in his oversized chair to study her unhurriedly. Kainan pointed to the scar-faced man. ‘This is Kage, call name Shadow. He’s our ship designer, tech head and all-around maestro. He also runs our mini armada. Next to him is Xion, call name Phoenix – head of internal security on Eden II, privately overseeing law and order on the rock.’ Two other men glanced at her from the other side of the room. One sported a magnificent sheathe of dead straight white and silver hair that fell to his back in a long, smooth sheet with a braid to one side. His skin was pale, and so were his white irised eyes that he seemed a ghoul, albeit a very handsome one. He wore a close-fitted black jumpsuit with the same crest on his shoulder as Kainan. She assumed this was The Sable Group’s insignia. He jerked his chin to her, his pale eyes keenly raking her face. Next to him was a lean, long, striking, powerfully built man in a beautifully cut suit with dark thick hair, a neat moustache and a beard with piercing blue eyes. His elegant presence contrasted sharply with his more casually dressed companions. He nodded to her cordially. ‘At the far back is Riv, call name Wraith. He runs our armouries. He occasionally moonlights as the head of our private surveillance ops and militia, and on his off days, he dallies as a bounty hunter. With him is Zane, call name Phantom. Our business and financial controller. He runs our sales, logistics, private equity and finance division.’ Selene nodded her head formally in acknowledgement, momentarily unable to speak. As it were, her breath had been snatched from her lungs by the presence of these five devastatingly powerful creatures. She saw sleek blasters strapped to their powerful thighs and hips and imagined the various other weapons tucked in places unseen. These were no boy scouts she was dealing with. ‘You remember Mirage,’ Kainan added drily, gesturing toward the gyrfalcon with silver wings and feet. Selene’s eyebrow rose. ‘Really?’ ‘It is indeed, Selene,’ said the gyrfalcon in the AI’s harmonious tone. ‘As a nano-engineered AI, I can take various forms, but this is the one I tend to prefer when I’m off Kainan’s ship. But, of course, I’m also still on the ship due to my split consciousness and various remote capabilities.’ ‘Mirage is our eyes and ears across the rock, and she oversees all AI on all our ships and holdings,’ Kainan explained. ‘I’m also taking an encrypted recording of these proceedings,’ Mirage piped up. ‘Which will be shared to all your comm tabs after the meeting and only accessible with your bio authentication.’ Kainan inclined his head. ‘As you can see, she’s a very valued member of The Sable Riders.’ ‘Wow,’ Selene said, genuinely astonished. ‘Incredible.’ The gyrfalcon bent her sleek silver head in a bow. ‘Sit,’ Kainan ordered Selene, pulling out a plush chair. ‘What’s your call name?’ she managed to ask him softly as she sat down. He paused for a moment. ‘Chimera,’ he said quietly. Fitting, she thought, given the strange ability he had to switch her feelings, from hot to cold, in seconds. 
GIVEAWAY! --
Beast’s Secret Baby
-- EXCERPT: Stefani Davis, Biscayne Bay, Florida I leaned back, bracing my weight on stiff upper arms as the sailboat cut through the waves. At least once a month I made time, with my friends Carmen and Greg, to spend an afternoon on the water. Now that both my mom and my twin sister had mated Atlan Warlords and moved to another planet, I spent a lot of time alone. Too much time. A twin without a twin was a sad, pathetic thing. Out on the water was the only time I felt alive anymore. And free. Lifting my face to the sun, I let out a loud whoop. “I love sailing!” Sitting right next to me on the bow of the forty-footer, Carmen laughed. “Me, too.” Greg handed us both another margarita and settled on a folded towel next to Carmen as the sail snapped and waves crashed around us. “And this, lovely ladies, is why you will never convince me to leave Florida.” I was about to agree when Carmen smacked my leg. Hard. “Effing-A Stef. Look at that guy on the beach. Total hunk.” I turned my head to follow her gaze and almost dropped a frozen margarita in my lap. Oh, god. Oh shit. That was an Atlan. Had to be. He was too big, too gorgeous with his shirt off. Jeez, he was showing too much…muscle. “He should put on a shirt.” “Are you insane?” Carmen leaned forward and pulled a pair of small binoculars from where they rested around her neck. She lifted them so she could spy on the man. “He’s way too hot to cover up.” With a knowing grin, I met Greg’s gaze. Carmen was a wild woman. We both knew that. Greg nudged her with his shoulder. “You going to try to find him when we get back to shore? We’re getting close.” I checked my watch and sighed. He was right. About ten minutes and we’d be walking off the boat. Damn it. “He’s running.” Carmen giggled. “Oh my god. Stef, I think that guy is chasing the boat.” “What?” Carmen handed me her binoculars and I looked for myself. I shouldn’t have looked. Now my peaceful day on the water was instantly ruined by a throbbing, horny vajayjay and a bit too much tequila. Seriously? I licked my lips. Could this guy be any more perfect? He ran like he could run at top speed for hours. The sun made his skin look like he was glowing, from sweat or the water splashing beneath his feet, I wasn’t sure. Didn’t matter. All it did was define every muscle in his chest and across his back. His thighs and legs stretched and contracted as he ran, every muscle popping out to say hello. His dark hair was just long enough to flow back from a face that looked carved from granite. “What the hell is he doing all the way out here?” Carmen grabbed the binoculars from my hands, held them up to her eyes. “I wouldn’t kick him out of bed. I can tell you that.” She practically purred. “You know him?” I sighed. “No, but I’ve met enough Atlans to know one when I see one.” “He’s one of those aliens? What do they call them?” Greg took the binoculars from Carmen. “Warlords.” “Fuck me, that guy is ripped.” Greg whistled and even from this distance I saw the Atlan turn his head in our direction. “And fast.” “I told you, he’s following us.” Carmen sipped at her margarita and stared at the Atlan as he picked up speed. “Stef, I swear he is following us. Why is he following us?” “I don’t know.” I didn’t. Not for sure. Carmen was right, it did look like he was pacing the boat, keeping us in sight. Which could only mean one thing—he thought his mate was on this sailboat. We were going to hit the docks and an eight foot tall alien was going to walk up to one of the handful of women on this boat—mostly tourists— and say the one word I dreaded hearing…mine.
GIVEAWAY! --
Prowl
-- EXCERPT: Walker McKenna “Let’s not buy Macklin’s false confidence either,” Ty murmured. “We’re coming for them.” A shudder ran through me, and I nodded once. “I’m gonna give Macklin the day to think things over,” I decided. “If he doesn’t fess up about what’s wrong, I’ll show him tomorrow.” “It’s a plan.” He kissed my cheek, and when he backed away again, the devil seeped into his eyes. “You grew up in the South, so you must’ve seen your share of snakes in your day.” My eyebrows flew up. “Uh, sure. Yeah.” “Well, plenty of them have their ways of attracting prey…” Okay, he had my attention. “I’m listenin’.” He smirked. “It’s time to drop some bait for the boys and see what sticks.” 
GIVEAWAY! -- #Book Blitz #Omen:The Stained Sea by Paul Williams #NEw Adult #Fantasy @Xpresso Book Tours25/3/2023
Omen: The Stained Sea
-- EXCERPT: “Something has already happened to Akamai. And what— we’re to trust this, this Lili Mele in his place?” Mele bristled, but tempered herself with a glance to Akamai, finding his eyes staring dead into hers. To her surprise, he tapped his lips. A gesture on a list he wrote. It meant she was allowed to speak freely. Mele burst from her seat and pressed her hands into the table. “Lili Mele? I am not the one who sold myself to the council of nobles in exchange for a good word with the emperor. Don’t fool yourself, Lili Takaahae, this is not the world we used to live in, and I am the most valuable asset you sniveling council of cowards has. What choice is there but to wait for now? Min needs the energy when he returns. I’d imagine tracing the edge of the land has drained his stores far lower than any of ours. Now I’m begging to return to our plans for when the search parties return. My brain has been decaying with every syllable that exits your mouth.”
GIVEAWAY! -- #Book Blitz #The Mixtape to the Real Me by Jake Martinez #YA Romance #LGBTQ+ @Xpresso Book Tours24/3/2023
The Mixtape to the Real Me
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo -- EXCERPT: Dominic I know I shouldn’t be laughing. This isn’t the time. But oh, man, I can’t help it. “Well, are you going to stop?” Justin asks. He’s not happy. I can tell because his lips are doing that thing where they kind of curl in. I’m trying to tell him that I don’t mean anything bad. But I can’t breathe. I’m laughing way too hard. Probably harder than I should. “I’m…I’m…I…” That’s all I can get out. He turns away from me and looks straight out the window. It’s starting to rain, and for some reason, the rain, dark clouds, and song are making me laugh even harder. “Wow, I can’t believe you.” “Ba…Ba…Babe, come…on. List…en.” I want him to listen. To really listen to it, and to look around. “Listen to what, the song? I am.” He sounds annoyed. “No, re…really.” He turns around and looks out the window again. His arm raises, his hand headed straight for under his chin. Justin closes his eyes, and takes a few breaths. A moment later he snorts out a laugh. “You…see.” I say, catching my breath a bit. “Oh my God, that’s too perfect, isn’t it? The song that we can best relate to is a guilty pleasure from Grease 2.” I’m finally calm enough to talk again. “Yeah, I mean, those words. Except for the stuff about Stephanie, but wow, it all fits. So much.” It is good to laugh. Really good. I needed it. “Is that going to be us on Monday?” I joke. “Are we going to be walking through the hall on our way to the office all sad while life keeps going on around us? The way the guy does?” Justin made me sit through the movie a few weeks back. I’m not into musicals, and I thought for sure this one was going to suck. But I kind of liked it. I could only tell Justin that. If I mentioned it to Lila, she would blow a fuse. She is a hardcore fan of the original Grease, and anyone saying that they liked part two more resulted in a punch to the arm. Only Justin, who likes part two better also, seemed to get away with it. “There are worse things we could do,” he says with a playful smile. It takes me a moment, then I realize it’s a song from the first movie. “You dork,” I say, rolling my eyes. I want to kiss him so bad right now. Just rip off the seat belt that I still have on, and move over there and get all over him. But even if we were a straight couple, I probably wouldn’t. I wouldn’t want people staring at us. I don’t know how those people from school can do that at the movies and other places. Maybe we should have talked about what is bothering me now. But it doesn’t feel right, and I don’t feel too good. My stomach is still in knots, though not as bad. Not just from the dance, but from the letter. Okay, it’s mostly the letter. It took over everything. Even hiding it in my drawer didn’t do anything. I just kept staring at the dresser, wondering if the letter was still there. I think I was just hoping that it found a way to vanish. But when I went to pull out some underwear, there it was. I want to talk about it with Justin. I need to hear what he thinks. Not now though. We need to get this done first. I know him though. He’ll drop everything to help me with this. Shit, why did this have to happen now? Why did that man have to write to me? “Just let me know when you are ready,” Justin says. His eyes have changed. He looks worried now. “I will, I just want to stay here for a moment. Get my thoughts together. Spend some time with you that isn’t focused on what happened.”
GIVEAWAY! --
Once Upon A Legend
-- EXCERPT: The voice in my head hummed a tune with ancient words. The somber melody rose an octave higher and dipped lower. A song of death, a song of horror and grief, and yet beautiful and profound, like the voice, raw and pure. “I’m here. What do you want?” Why was I talking to the water? I wrapped my arms around my chest when the breeze blew harder, water slamming against the walkway. Perhaps a warning of something terrible to come. “Idrisa.” It sang my name, a soft tune filling my mind with bliss. “Why is my lantern black? Why have you put it in front of me?” I shouted, desperate for answers. Something glowed inside the lake, the size of an orb at first, then illuminated brighter and closer, like the birth of a new star. I threw my arms up to protect myself but the glow shifted, and then split into an image of three women. Their long, silver hair and flowing white dresses blazed like milky fire, and brilliant light shone where their faces should be. I couldn’t stare without blinding myself. “We welcome you, Idrisa. Do not be afraid. We are the Eternal Mothers,” they said in unison. Their voices sounded in my head like a hypnotic and celestial chorus. My heart lurched to my throat. I curtsied, awed and humbled they’d appear before someone like me. Surely there was a mistake. “What do you want with me?” I asked, my voice shaky. “You are the light and the dark of this world. Within you lies strength, courage, and hope. Your time has come.” The Lady in the middle held a beaming sword that hadn’t been there before. The sword rose from the lake, no doubt a hallucination. I shivered, an icy blast of wind nearly knocking me back as mist sprayed over my face. I didn’t know how deep the lake reached. If I fell, I doubted I could swim in the freezing water. “I am Eternal Mother Viviane, the voice of all. I present to you, Caliburn.” The white light from the blade, like a thousand diamonds blessed with inner fire, beckoned me to reach out for it. Your time has come? “What do you mean? Is it my time to die?” “The truest of hearts and the blood of the firstborn, to restore the balance from once torn. Kingdoms shall rise and fall and empires alike, but only the blessed ones can save them all. You must live, Idrisa. You must fight. Most of all, you must have faith and accept your destiny. Now, take Caliburn and run.” Before I could ask more questions, rapid footsteps vibrated on the walkway. 
GIVEAWAY! --
Flirting with the Stranger
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Google Play -- EXCERPT: “Finally, you’re here.” “Oh. Um.” Play it cool, Van. Don’t let the hot girl get you tongue tied. “Of course, where else would I be?” I flash her a dimpled smile. “No, seriously. You’re an hour late. The least you could’ve done was call. We have a group of girls who are ready to see you take your clothes off. Let’s go.” Her dainty fingers wrap around my wrist. The warm contact sends a current of electricity coursing through my body as she tugs me up the stairs. “Wait.” I plant my feet. “What are you talking about? Take my clothes off? I think I deserve dinner before I get naked.” I flash her a seductive smile. “Dinner? Are you kidding? We weren’t told we had to feed you.” She drops my hand and rests it on her hip. “Look, we have a thousand dollars for you plus tips, if you’re good, to take your clothes off and shake your ass while we all ooh and ahh over your ripped abs. You have ripped abs, right?” She lifts the hem of my shirt, exposing my hard six pack. “Oh yes, that’ll do.” Her gaze lingers on my exposed stomach for a few extra seconds before she reluctantly drops the fabric. “So, are you coming or am I calling your boss to tell him you won’t do your job?” Fuck. She thinks I’m a stripper for her party. But it pays a thousand dollars plus tips. Since I’m jobless, I could use the cash. I wager the battle in my head for a split second and, fuck it. First time for everything. “Lead the way.” She spins around and climbs the stairs, the shimmering sequins on the ass of her dress hypnotizing as her hips sway back and forth. As the giggles and laughter grow louder, I second guess myself. I’ve never done this before. I mean, I’ve gotten naked before, just never with more than one girl watching. “Our entertainment has arrived!” the bombshell announces to her friends.
GIVEAWAY! --
Pretend
-- EXCERPT: “I need another favor,” Eric said, finishing off the last bite of danish before grabbing the muffin off her plate and devoured it with a groan. “And you felt the best way to go about that was to glare at me while stealing my food?” Morgan asked, blinking at the man narrowing his eyes on her. “Yes,” Eric bit out, his glare never leaving her as he reached over and forced her to snatch the mini chocolate chip muffin off the plate and shove it into her mouth before he could steal it. “And my bags?” Morgan asked, following that up by snatching the small piece of coffee cake off the plate and took a large bite of it, making sure to savor every last morsel simply to piss him off. “Gave me great joy to leave them behind,” Eric bit out as he reached over and snatched the last bite of coffee cake out of her hand and shoved it in his mouth, his glare never leaving her as he finished it off. Nodding slowly, Morgan said, “Whatever it is, the answer’s no.” For a moment, Eric simply glared at her before he said, “You owe me.” “I really don’t, though,” Morgan said, swiping the last apple danish off the plate before he could grab it and took a bite before she added, “and if I did owe you anything, which I don’t, I would say that me being dragged along on this trip more than makes up for whatever imaginary debt you think I owe you.” “You really think so?” Eric asked, reaching over and swiped the danish out of her hand and shoved it in his mouth. “I really do,” Morgan said, knowing that she’d more than paid back any favor that she owed him by going on this trip. In fact, some might say that he owed her after this. Not that she was going to be around to collect on that debt, but still. She- “Summer camp,” Eric said, taking his time enunciating every syllable as she sat there, trying to remember how to breathe. “You promised we’d never speak of it again,” Morgan mumbled hollowly, swallowing hard as she thought about that summer they- She wasn’t ready to think about what happened. Not now, and definitely not without the help of a trained professional. “You. Owe. Me,” Eric bit out as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, black box. “But…” Morgan mumbled helplessly, shifting as she licked her suddenly dry lips while she watched as Eric opened the box and- She was going to be sick. “I need you to pretend to be my wife.” 
GIVEAWAY! --
The Romanov Heiress
-- EXCERPT: August 1918 The fugitive lay on her back, bruised limbs pressed flat, hidden alongside her sisters underneath a mound of coarse blankets. As the ambulance rumbled to a halt, gasoline fumes flooded the rear compartment, masking the heavy odor of their unwashed bodies. Her breathing grew labored. She didn’t know where they were or who had stopped them. She only knew they must not make a sound. Over the past weeks, they moved slowly through land held by the Bolsheviks. Every evening at dusk, they ate carefully rationed portions of tinned meat and dry wafers while their two saviors—agents from England with forged papers identifying them as officers of the Red Guard—checked the radio transmitter for word of Allied progress toward the northern ports along the White Sea. Then, during the scant hours of darkness afforded by the short summer nights, they traveled a tortuous course to avoid military checkpoints. Bundled in tattered sweaters, Olga and her three sisters were gaunt. Their neglected hair hung limp about their shoulders. But their faces once adorned postcards, calendars, and boxes of fancy chocolates. If detained, they would be recognized at once. The missing daughters of the tsar. Anastasia’s warm body pressed closer, trembling as she tensed her jaw and tried to stifle a cough. A terrifying scenario unfolded in Olga’s mind. Thick boots pounded on the roadway before soldiers with red stars tacked to their lapels tossed the blankets aside and dragged Olga and her sisters back into the hellish world they’d been so desperate to escape. What if this journey had been for nothing? Worse than nothing because they had left their parents and sick little brother, Alexei, behind. Olga was twenty-two years old and the eldest. It fell on her to get them through this nightmare, no matter the outcome. She felt around until she located her youngest sister’s hand. She held it tight, flinching at the hard calluses and pus leaking from an erupted blister on the pad of Anastasia’s thumb. Deep masculine voices, muddled and indistinct, rumbled outside. The fingers of Olga’s free hand balled into fists, rage displacing fear. The Bolsheviks may have stolen everything she held dear, but Olga would confront them as a true Romanov. Unbroken. When they raised their revolvers, she would hold her head high and ensure her face haunted these traitors for the rest of their lives. The back door of the old field ambulance creaked open. Tentatively, Olga drew the blanket down. After hours of near-darkness, sunlight momentarily blurred her vision. When Olga released Anastasia’s hand and sat upright, a cool breeze caressed her forehead. Before her stood a broad-shouldered gentleman of about fifty, with black brows, a full beard flecked with gray, and brown eyes behind wire-framed spectacles. The man wore a khaki tunic, as Papa had during the war. The coat’s golden buttons and belt buckle gleamed in the morning sun. “Your imperial highness.” The gentleman removed his hat and bowed his head. He had spoken in English. She assumed he was the commanding officer. A half-dozen other men stood behind him, each dressed in the same khaki uniform. Some rose on tip-toe to get a closer look at Olga. None bore a red star on his lapel. Her sisters emerged from under the blankets. They pressed her shoulders, exhalations warm on the back of her neck. “I think he’s in charge.” Tatiana, the second eldest, whispered in Olga’s ear. “And waiting for you to speak first.” A spark of hope ignited in her heart, yet Olga didn’t trust these strangers. It had been far too long since anyone outside her family had shown her kindness or respect. For months, they had been kept under constant watch: shoved about, subjected to barking orders and humiliating whims, and made to feel they clung to life by the thinnest of threads. Olga remembered the defeated expression on her little brother’s face when she’d said goodbye for the last time. Even her once proud father bent under the weight of captivity. Their saviors, the two men who had rescued them from that nightmare, rounded the vehicle and walked toward the soldiers, broad smiles brightening their ruddy faces. And then the words fell from Olga’s tongue easily, as Mama had always preferred to speak English with her family. “We are here then? We’ve made it to British soil?” “We have delivered you to Arkhangelsk. From here, you will be transported to your new home.” “We are in your debt, sir.” Olga waited because she knew he would say more. There had to be more. While they had been rescued, their parents and brother remained imprisoned in Ekaterinburg, along with a handful of loyal servants. “You will return for the others, won’t you?” she said, heart thumping. “My family. Our doctor. My mother’s maid. You must promise.” The officer held her gaze. “The Bolsheviks fortified their defenses around the city’s perimeter. We can’t send our agents back to the house.” Faced with those terrible words, Olga couldn’t bring herself to ask anything else. Couldn’t bear to hear it was too late. Her stomach churned, but she must not break. Not here. Not yet. As the eldest, she needed to stay strong. For her sisters. When Olga said nothing more, the officer turned back to his men. Three soldiers joined him, lining up before her sisters to help them out of the ambulance. “I know you are in pain,” the officer told her. “Remember that you and your sisters are safe. You survived. And we have done everything in our power to find a secure place for you. I promise.”
GIVEAWAY! -- #Book Blitz #Thorns at Sunrise by Janeen Ippolito #Fantasy #Romance #YA @Xpresso Book Tours24/3/2023
-- EXCERPT: Her imaginary friend was playing a new trick on her. This time, she would discern his meaning. Usilea set down the quill on the paper, frowning at the words mocking her from the page. She pressed her lips together in thought. Thorns at sunrise? What could it mean? What was her mind trying to tell her? “What do you think of my riddle?” As usual, the voice didn’t come from within her mind directly, but somewhere outside. Yet were she to glance around, all she would perceive is the vaguest sensation of shadow and soul in the periphery of her vision. And so, she refrained from looking. Instead, she focused on the words she had written, words he had spoken into her mind at some point in the night. I think … you’re afraid. “And what am I afraid of, goldenbird?” Amusement teased the edges of his words. She had known her friend was a male since the first time they had met, whenever that had been. Sometime after her sixth year. “Tell me, you who know me so well.” I know you as well as I might any figment of my imagination. “Likewise. That is not the answer to the riddle.” A sigh escaped her. Usilea leaned back in her cushioned chair and rubbed the tense area around her eyes. You are afraid of being lost. You are afraid of being found. You are afraid of darkness, and you are afraid of light. No answer came from the voice in her mind. A faint smile curved her lips. He only withdrew like that when she was right and he was bewildered. She had learned that pattern over the years as they had conversed. He liked keeping his mysteries, while he equally delighted in unveiling the mysteries of others. A curious behavior for her imaginary friend. A strange, stabbing sensation pierced through her musing. What did it imply about her that her closest friend wasn’t real?
GIVEAWAY! -- |
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