Wednesday, October 11, 2017

Random Paranormal Tales of 2017 Part 3


The Curse (Witches of Salem #1) by TS McKinney
Summary:
Witches. Warlocks. Hocus Pocus.

I didn’t believe in any of those things. To be honest, the only thing I really believed in….really had faith in its existence, was bad luck. There was too much proof of it in my life to deny it.

As it turns out, the bad luck that accompanies me wherever I go escalated to a heightened level following a visit form a long-lost relative I didn’t even know existed. She starts spouting nonsense about my parents really loving me (even though they committed suicide a few days after my birth), how my mother tried using witchcraft to save their lives…and how there is a curse hanging over my head that requires my death on my twenty-fifth birthday. Supposedly all the Bailey men commit suicide on their twenty-fifth birthdays due to this curse.

Total craziness, right?

Wrong.

A small dash of intrigue and a heaping-helping of fear cause me to pack up and head to Salem, Massachusetts – where it all started. Here’s my biggest problem: my twenty-fifth birthday is only a couple of weeks away and I’m having these very sensual dreams about a man I don’t know.

I might not know him, but I sure want him.

Wild Bells by Charlie Cochrane
Summary:
The Shade on a Fine Day
Curate William Church may set the hearts of the parish's young ladies aflame, but he doesn't want their affection or presents, no matter how much they want to give them to him. He has his sights set elsewhere, for a love he's not allowed to indulge. One night, eight for dinner at the Canon's table means the potential arrival of a ghost. But what message will the spirit bring and which of the young men around the table is it for?

The Angel in the Window
Two officers, one ship, one common enemy.

Alexander Porterfield may be one of the rising stars of the British navy, but his relationship with his first lieutenant, Tom Anderson, makes him vulnerable. To blackmail, to anxieties about exposure—and to losing Tom, either in battle or to another ship. When danger comes more from the English than the French, where should a man turn?


I absolutely love historicals and I love Charlie Cochrane's historicals so when Wild Bells showed up on my Kindle, I devoured  it like a starving man wandering the desert when he comes across a lone watering hole, unfortunately I just now got around to posting my review.  History can be a very wicked place and lets be honest, the past has not been kind to the LGBT community so I always find them as a helpful reminder that even though we as a society have a long way yet to go toward acceptance and equality, we've also come a long way too.  I always love when historical authors remind us of the severity of what they faced but I love it even more when its not used as a teaching lesson.  Charlie Cochrane has never written a lesson, if you walk away learning something then all the better, but that is not the goal.  She sets out to write a loving intriguing story that fits the time and that is what she has done once again with Wild Bells.

The Shade on a Fine Day is a wonderful blend of paranormal, history, and romance.  The Angel in the Window takes you to the sea with an interesting mix of history and romance.  Together they made me smile, laugh, go awww, with a little bit of worry, all of which had me captivated from beginning to end.  Charlie Cochrane's historicals may not have explicit passion compared to many authors but that doesn't mean the passion isn't there and trust me, explicit or not, Wild Bells left me breathless.

RATING:

The Ghost Slept Over by Marshall Thornton
Summary:
When failed actor Cal Parsons travels to rural New York to claim the estate of his famous and estranged ex-partner he discovers something he wasn't expecting...the ghost of his ex! And, worse, his ex invites Cal to join him for all eternity. Now. As Cal attempts to rid himself of the ghost by any means he begins to fall for the attractive attorney representing the estate. Will Cal be able to begin a new relationship or will he be seduced into the ever after?

"A highly entertaining tale of the ex who wouldn't leave, with a hilarious cast of characters you won't soon forget." Eden Winters, author of Diversion.















The Case of the Guilty Ghost by RJ Scott & Amber Kell
Summary:
Bob is lost in grief, Sam is fighting for his life, and there is no middle ground. Can their love survive?

Bob is grieving over his brother’s sacrifice. Guilt-ridden and devastated, he buries himself in vampire mourning and pulls away from Sam.

Magic tears Sam from the vampire castle and he has to face new adversaries alone, when all he wants is Bob at his side.

Ettore is in the Aset Ka waiting room, next in line for the ceremony for his soul to be torn from his body. Aset Ka has other plans, and Ettore finds himself reunited with a lost love and fighting alongside his brother.

A forgotten past binds Theodore ‘Teddy’ McCurray Constantine III to Ettore, and with the curse tied to Ettore broken by his death, Teddy’s past returns to him with a vengeance.

A royal family in denial, a battle between gods, and long forgotten love leaves no time for Sam and Bob to take a breath. Is it too late to save the supernatural world?


Click for Saturday's Series Spotlight: End Street Detective Agency


I had bittersweet feels about this one when the release day came around.  On the plus side, End Street Detective Agency Series is amazing, stupendous, fabulous, well frankly it's just plain great all around.  On the minus side, it's the conclusion, the end, finale, final, finis, no more, well frankly that leaves me with just all kinds of boo-hooing.  So as you can imagine, I hated to begin because then it would be it when I hit the last page but I couldn't not read The Case of the Guilty Ghost, the gang cried out to be read.

What can I say about Guilty Ghost without giving anything away?  Not too much really but I can't stress enough that this is NOT a standalone, you have to start at the beginning with The Case of the Cupid Curse.  I will say that Sam has finally accepted that he's not entirely human, although I don't think he likes it being pointed out.  His magic, or paranormality if you will, continues to grow and we finally learn why he is what he is as so many factors fall into place.

We have vampires, dragons, and ghosts, oh my!  Bob's brother returns, Teddy the ghost's history is revealed, the evil is uncovered, and the future is shaky but it's all yummy.  RJ Scott and Amber Kell have created a world that one can get lost in and who knew it would go where it did when Bob the Vampire rented a room from Sam the human(he thinks).  I have already re-read the first five stories even though it hasn't even been 6 months since my original read and I'm already looking forward to my next re-read, which probably says more about how much I love this universe than all the words I've already written.  End Street has definitely earned it's prime position on my paranormal shelf.

RATING: 

Rhapsody For Piano and Ghost by ZA Maxfield
Summary:
Fitz Gaffney finally has some breathing room. His mother’s out of town, his piano coaches have backed off, and he’s spending his time in a music conservatory where he only has to be adequate for an entire year before all his responsibilities comes crashing back in again. Along with his new free time comes the realization that he’s lonely, but his first attempt to make new friends goes horribly awry.

Fitz’s new — but possibly imaginary — friends, Evan and Serge want to help him find happiness. His used-to-be-step-brother Ari Scheffield wants to help him gain confidence and a little much-needed cool. His housekeeper Marguerite wants to keep fowl in the back yard for butchering because Duck confit is expensive and she has pillows to re-stuff. And his possible new boyfriend Garrett wants to prove he didn’t mean for their first date to end with Fitz lying unconscious in a Dumpster.

All Fitz wants is someone to care about him, but suddenly there seems to be a glut. How’s a shy guy to know what’s real when he’s confronted by crazy ghosts, a less than truthful boyfriend, and relatives with hidden motives in Rhapsody For Piano and Ghost.


The Case of the Guilty Ghost by RJ Scott & Amber Kell
Chapter 1
Sam took the stairs two at a time, all one hundred and sixty of them, to the top of the tower, leaving him gasping for oxygen. He’d seen Bob heading that way, or dreamed it, or half woke and imagined it. He didn’t know what exactly, only that somehow, he knew he would find Bob at the top of the black tower. He ducked the low lintel, slid to an ungainly halt on the stone floor, unbalanced and grabbed at the wall to hold himself upright.

“Bob?” he called into the dark corners of the tower, but there was no reply. His vampire lover didn’t step from the shadows with a smile or words of love. The place was empty, and the only presence Sam sensed was spiders. Knowing his luck, they were man-eating spiders.

“Sam!”

Sam winced at the shout up the stairs, and then heard huffing and cursing as the owner of the deep voice appeared in the doorway. Jin, who had never quite gone home, citing that he was responsible for Sam, was way past pissed. At least Jin, being a dragon shifter, could light up the room. Then Sam recalled he could light up the room just by thinking about it.

“I want there to be light,” he murmured, and then held up his hand to block his eyes as a pure white light exploded in the center of the room, filling every corner before receding back to a steady glowing orb.

He blinked, the light burning his retina. He closed his eyes tight, willing the spotted vision to go.

“What are you doing up here?” Jin asked. He sounded wary, like everyone else tiptoeing around Sam these past two weeks.

“Bob,” Sam said. When he opened his eyes again, he could see the entire room. An elaborate altar took up the far side of the circular chamber, built into the wall and covered in years of dusty cobwebs, likely from the imagined killer spiders. He stepped toward it, a low humming drawing his attention. Jin moved to block his way.

“Leave it, Sam,” Jin said. His hard tone left no room for discussion.

The noise of more footsteps stomping up the stairs, then Lambert, Sam’s vampire liaison, appeared at the top. Lambert, a tall stretched-skinny vampire with eerily cloudy eyes, had a propensity to follow Sam everywhere, spouting fear at everything and anything.

“Sire, you can’t be in here,” Lambert said, waving his hands ineffectively.

Sam spun back around to face the altar. “Stop calling me sire,” he muttered under his breath. He was getting pretty sick of how people treated him in the damn castle. Half the vampires lauded him as a ruler of supernaturals, the other half wanted him either locked up or gone. The first group assigned Lambert to him. They felt Sam needed an escort in the vampire kingdom because he was, in their words, special. Lambert was the kind of paranormal stuck firmly in the past. The historian kept talking about the old days like they were better times.

Sam wasn’t sure why Lambert had been so accepting of him given he was A, human, and B, with Bob.

Jin held up a hand, glowing with the remnants of dragon fire magic and placed it flat on Sam’s chest. It didn’t burn, only fizzled, and popped sending a small shock through his body.

“Sam, talk to me,” Jin demanded.

The humming from the altar intensified, and a voice in Sam’s head was saying the same things over and over, Sam, I am here, and I need your help.

“I can hear Bob in my head, he called me up here,” Sam repeated.

“No, you can’t have heard him,” Lambert corrected. “The mate link is blocked in times of mourning. You are hearing something else, dark magic maybe. You need to come back down to your chamber where you are safe.”

A mixture of exasperation and fear crossed Lambert’s face when Sam stepped back toward the altar.

“I want to see him.” He’d been too long without Bob. Their separation was causing cracks in his sanity.

“It’s not much longer until he’s done,” Jin reassured.

“Please come away, Sam,” Lambert pleaded. That was new. Lambert never called him Sam.

“Just take my hand,” Jin said, holding out his hand.

Sam stepped backward, more toward the altar, and he heard Lambert let out a small curse.

“Take my hand, Sam,” Jin said. “This is stupid and dangerous.”

Sam turned on Jin, sparks flying from his fingers. Jin stepped back from him, narrowly avoiding the biting magic. “Stay away from me.”

He shook his fingers, electricity passing up his arm. Usually when that happened, Bob was there to hold his hands, settle him and take away the pinpricks of pain.

“Come away, Sam,” Jin said.

“Listen to the dragon,” Lambert added, his voice thick with fear.

“You and Jin do what I say,” Sam snapped, not knowing where the superiority in his voice was coming from.

Sam fought his loss of control. So much for me being a higher supernatural. Every day without Bob felt like torture, and Sam was lost without his vampire lover next to him. The headaches, the sparks of energy from his fingers, and the pain in his chest grew more intense with each hour that passed. He knew Bob was in mourning. Hell, Sam respected the traditions, but right then, all he wanted was his lover by his side.

Hurry up, the voice in his head said. I need your help.

He shook off the words and concentrated on Lambert. “Take me to the Sanctum, let me see Bob, convince me he isn’t calling for my help, and I will come with you.” He wasn’t being unreasonable, they were.

“This is an ancient rite.” Lambert seemed stunned that Sam was asking this. “No humans.”

“Something is wrong.” With me? With him? Something is terribly wrong, but no one is listening.

“What is wrong? Is it your head?” Jin asked, his voice low, and his expression concerned.

Yes. No. Hell, I don’t know. I know Bob loves me, and I love him. I just need to kiss him.

Instead, he said, “I have to help Bob with his grieving. We can’t be apart like this.”

Sam didn’t know what made him say it that way; he wasn’t needy, it wasn’t a normal need for lovers to be together. His instincts had been screaming at him that he and Bob shouldn’t be apart.

Ever!

Lambert gasped as he did every time Sam suggested he should be part of any ancient vampire rite. “A non-pureblood cannot help with the rituals of grieving.”

Sam knew Lambert was winding himself up to that whole vampire purity speech and he sighed. Jin must have sensed his irritability because he rounded on Lambert and roared, fire sparking around him. Lambert stumbled back in shock.

“Wait for us outside,” Jin ordered.

Lambert looked torn between staying to keep an eye on Sam, his job, or evading the dragon fire that Jin was breathing all around the room.

Lambert’s eyes narrowed. His calculating gaze flashed from Jin to Sam and back again a few times before he sketched a small bow and left the chamber. “I will go down exactly the seven steps of Aset Ka,” he announced over his shoulder. He was kind of stuck on numbers and more than a little obsessive about the freaking vampire god.

The same god who had made a bargain with Bob’s brother Ettore before returning Bob to Sam, and taking Ettore to some kind of hell, or heaven, or whatever.

“Bob needs me,” Sam said, firmly. “I was asleep and heard him calling me. He must be out of mourning.”

“Sam, you have to stop, he isn’t up here.”

“He must be, he called me.” Maybe if Sam said it enough times one of them would listen.

Jin shook his head. “You heard that through your mate link? In your mind. You can’t have because the link is muted when Bob is mourning.”

Sam shook his head, confused. “No, it was like an image of the stairs, and this room, and there was an altar, only it wasn’t this old. It had gold all over it, a chalice in the center, and Bob was examining it, and he called me over, and there was magic….” Sam pressed his hands against his temples, attempting to ease the tension building from that incessant humming. “He needs me.”

“Sam, it was just a dream. You’re tired. Let’s go get some sleep, and we’ll re-examine this in the morning.” Jin took his arm, encouraged him back to the doorway, but Sam wrenched away and shoved Jin to the side, and with a flick of his hand there was a thick wall of ice between them. Sam stood on the side of the altar, and Jin beat on the ice trying to get through.

Bob needed him, and nothing or no one was stopping him. He’d felt Bob’s grief, through their bond, for four long days and then without warning; the bond was severed. He’d been told that had to happen as part of the rituals of mourning.

Sam was lost. Not even his daughter Mal arriving had helped. At that moment, it didn’t matter that she was the light of his life, he wasn’t whole without Bob. There was no family without Bob.

“Watch Mal,” Sam spoke clearly through the ice, which wasn’t giving way, and Jin snarled at him. “Please.”

“Don’t do anything stupid, Sam! We’ll go down and find Bob.”

But Sam wasn’t doing anything stupid. He was doing what he should have been doing all along, finding Bob and making sure he was okay. Something had happened, someone had come into the castle, stolen Bob from his mourning and only Sam could help. He turned his back on Jin to face the altar. Something there was calling him. Help me, help me.

Bob’s voice? Or was it softer the closer that Sam got to the altar? A whisper of a voice?

He stepped closer, the hum louder, and then another step, and as he neared the low resonating noise stopped, and for a moment he was motionless.

He reached a hand toward the altar, expecting a barrier, or magic, or some booby-trap that would whisk him to killer spider land or some other awful, horrible place.

A crash behind him had him looking back. Jin was nearly through the barrier, melting the ice as fast as he could with his dragon fire; in seconds he would be through. Sam flicked his hand to create another level of ice, but nothing happened.

“Just when I need magic, it isn’t there,” he murmured.

Something inside him began to hurt, an insistent tug at the base of his neck that ran down his spine then back again. The sensation was weird, moving his feet, guiding him, and he had no control over his own body. He was a marionette, and someone else was pulling the strings.

Fear began to spread in the pit of his stomach, Jin screamed his name and the heat of dragon fire warmed his back, but none of it mattered.

Because his hand touched the altar.

And everything went to hell.


Click to Check Out Previous
Random Paranormal Tales of 2017

Part 1  /  Part 2


TS McKinney
T.S. McKinney lives in East Tennessee with her high school sweetheart/husband and all the countless dogs she picks up from deserted country roads. Her professional career has been in business but her heart has always belonged to the fantasy world found in books.

Creating wicked worlds where one can meet the perfect hero – and then do anything to him that you want – has been a hobby that has brought her plenty of hours of fun and naughty entertainment.

When not working, reading, or writing, she loves to spend time with my family and forcing them (because they don’t really have another choice) to allow me to redecorate their houses…and listen to my naughty…sometimes sadistic stories.

Charlie Cochrane
As Charlie Cochrane couldn't be trusted to do any of her jobs of choice - like managing a rugby team - she writes. Her favourite genre is gay fiction, predominantly historical romances/mysteries, but she's making an increasing number of forays into the modern day. She's even been known to write about gay werewolves - albeit highly respectable ones.

Her Cambridge Fellows series of Edwardian romantic mysteries were instrumental in seeing her named Speak Its Name Author of the Year 2009. She’s a member of both the Romantic Novelists’ Association and International Thriller Writers Inc.

Happily married, with a house full of daughters, Charlie tries to juggle writing with the rest of a busy life. She loves reading, theatre, good food and watching sport. Her ideal day would be a morning walking along a beach, an afternoon spent watching rugby and a church service in the evening.

Marshall Thornton
Lambda Award-winning author, Marshall Thornton is best known for the Boystown detective series. Other novels include the erotic comedy The Perils of Praline, or the Amorous Adventures of a Southern Gentleman in Hollywood, Desert Run and Full Release. Marshall has an MFA in screenwriting from UCLA, where he received the Carl David Memorial Fellowship and was recognized in the Samuel Goldwyn Writing awards.

RJ Scott
RJ Scott is the bestselling romance author of over 100 romance books. She writes emotional stories of complicated characters, cowboys, millionaire, princes, and the men and women who get mixed up in their lives. RJ is known for writing books that always end with a happy ever after. She lives just outside London and spends every waking minute she isn't with family either reading or writing.

The last time she had a week’s break from writing she didn't like it one little bit, and she has yet to meet a bottle of wine she couldn’t defeat.

Amber Kell
Amber Kell has made a career out of daydreaming. It has been a lifelong habit she practices diligently as shown by her complete lack of focus on anything not related to her fantasy world building.

When she told her husband what she wanted to do with her life he told her to go have fun.

During those seconds she isn't writing she remembers she has children who humor her with games of 'what if' and let her drag them to foreign lands to gather inspiration. Her youngest confided in her that he wants to write because he longs for a website and an author name—two things apparently necessary to be a proper writer.

Despite her husband's insistence she doesn't drink enough to be a true literary genius she continues to spin stories of people falling happily in love and staying that way.

She is thwarted during the day by a traffic jam of cats on the stairway and a puppy who insists on walks, but she bravely perseveres..

She also writes under the name Mikela Q. Chase.

ZA Maxfield
Z.A. Maxfield is a fifth-generation native of Los Angeles, although she now lives in the O.C. She started writing in 2007 on a dare from her children and never looked back. Pathologically disorganized and perennially optimistic, she writes as much as she can, reads as much as she dares, and enjoys her time with family and friends. If anyone asks her how a wife and mother of four manages to find time for a writing career, she’ll answer, “It’s amazing what you can do if you completely give up housework.”



TS McKinney
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Charlie Cochrane
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Marshall Thornton
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Amber Kell
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EMAIL: amberkellwrites@gmail.com

ZA Maxfield
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EMAIL: zamaxfield@zamaxfield.com



The Curse by TS McKinney
B&N  /  KOBO  /  SMASHWORDS

Wild Bells by Charlie Cochrane

The Ghost Slept Over by Marshall Thornton

The Case of the Guilty Ghost by RJ Scott & Amber Kell

Rhapsody For Piano and Ghost by ZA Maxfield

Release Blitz and Blogger Review: The Past Comes Home by Silvia Violet

Title: The Past Comes Home
Author: Silvia Violet
Series: Ames Bridge #2
Genre: M/M Romance
Release Date: October 3, 2017
Cover Design: Meredith Russell
Summary:
Twenty years ago, Paxton Marshall realized he liked boys, in particular his brother’s best friend, Brad. Pax now runs a successful art gallery, but he’s never found anyone who stirs his heart the way Brad did.

Brad Watson is back in town for his twentieth high school reunion. However, the celebration of long-ago days is the last thing on his mind. He’s there for one reason: to finally tell Pax how he feels.

Pax is shocked to learn Brad is not only gay but also interested in him. Dating a man in Ames Bridge isn’t as simple as it sound, though. In order to make a relationship work, both men will have to bolster their courage and alter their expectations.

*This book is an expansion of a previously published short story titled Open to the Past. Over 35,000 words have been added.*


Paxton Marshall has crushed on his big brother's BFF since he was a teenager.  Brad Watson has been crushing on his BFF's little brother since high school.  Will twenty years and learning the other has felt the same be enough for these two to finally find happiness or did they miss their opportunity ages ago?

The Past Comes Home is a lovely read with interesting characters that will warm your heart, it may break your heart too at times but it's the warmth that is at the heart of this story.  We all had that one crush that we wish we had the courage to speak to back in school, the one where we wonder what could have been so its not hard to imagine how Pax and Brad both feel when they come face to face again after twenty years apart.  Most of us don't really want to go back and wouldn't change our lives as they are but Silvia Violet's The Past Comes Home gives us the opportunity to dream and imagine through Pax and Brad's eyes.

Having said all that, don't go into this book expecting everything to be smooth sailing, to be all sunshine and roses just because both men have been harboring the same feelings for the other all this time.  Past is fiction after all and drama always finds a way but for me its this very drama that makes this story wonderful and heartwarming.  I look forward to more tales of Ames Bridge.

RATING: 

A knock on the shop door drew Pax’s his attention; probably his assistant, Cindy. It wouldn’t be the first time she’d forgotten her key, and no one else would be dropping by this early. Microfiber duster in hand, he twirled his way past the worktables and unpainted pottery pieces.

He sang along with Madonna as he reached for the doorknob, and froze—Brad was grinning at him through the front window.

Heat rushed to Pax’s face. For a moment he contemplated racing over to turn the music off, then walking calmly back to the door as if the last few seconds had never happened. Could he convince Brad his earlier appearance was a hallucination?

Brad placed his hand against the window and peered in. “Is this a bad time? I know I’m really early.”

“Um…no. Just a sec.”

He would open the damn door, talk to Brad, and generally behave like a respectable adult. That’s what would happen.

With a deep breath, he turned the knob and stared, openmouthed, unable to form a single word. Was Brad even more gorgeous than he’d been two years ago? At eighteen he’d been the hottest boy in school, but now with his dirty-blond hair showing hints of gray, he was even better. His T-shirt stretched taut over his biceps, and his jeans fit like they were tailor-made for his muscular thighs. But the thing that made Brad even more desirable now was how relaxed and happy he seemed. In high school he’d always been restless, as though he were uncomfortable in his gorgeous body, despite having it made as far as anyone else could tell. Pax wondered what had changed.

Pax looked up at Brad and realized he’d been caught giving him a blatant once-over while he stood in the doorway. “Um… Where are my manners?” Fled in the face of his insanity? “Come in. That is, if you’d like to.”

“I would.” He smiled, showing off the dimple in his left cheek.

Pax wanted to run his tongue across it. Instead, he made a dramatic show of bowing and sweeping his hand toward the interior. “Enter, sir.”

Brad laughed and stepped inside. Pax shut the door behind him and locked it, hoping Cindy would be late so he’d have time to show Brad the gallery without anyone else there.

“Is it ’80s day?” Brad asked.

Pax needed to accept that he would be blushing the whole time Brad was there. “No, I was just cleaning, and this music motivates me.”

“Let me know if I’m keeping you from something. I woke up early, and I was anxious to see you.”

Anxious to see him? Him? Pax’s knees threatened to give. Was it possible…? No. Just because Pax had spent far too many hours fantasizing about Brad saying he was gay or bi, that didn’t mean it was going to happen.




Author Bio:
Silvia Violet writes fun, sexy stories that will leave you smiling and satisfied. She has a thing for characters who are in need of comfort and enjoys helping them surrender to love even when they doubt it exists. Silvia's stories include sizzling contemporaries, paranormals, and historicals. When she needs a break from listening to the voices in her head, she spends time baking, taking long walks, and curling up with her favorite books. Keep up with her latest ventures by signing up for her newsletter.


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EMAIL: silviaviolet@gmail.com



The Past Comes Home #2

Down on the Farm #1




Brought to you by: 

Release Blitz: We Met in Death by KA Merikan

Title: We Met in Death
Author: KA Merikan
Genre: M/M Romance, Thriller
Release Date: October 10, 2017
Cover Design: Natasha Snow
Summary:
“This is not the night you die.”

After years of working for a loan shark, Robert is done with blood and violence. All he has to show for it is a bag of money and a lifetime of regrets. There’s no other way out of his line of work than in a body bag.

So Robert decides to die.


But on the night he chooses to seal his own fate, destiny offers him a chance at redemption. When Robert saves a handsome young escort from a terrible death, he has no idea he is setting in motion much more than one last attempt at proving that inside the hardened shell, he is a decent human being.

Charming, quick-witted, and full of smiles, Nathan is all Robert could dream of. He’s also ready to fall into the arms of his gruff protector. Robert, on the other hand, has never been with a man and will first need to fight his own demons if he is to accept that his whole being wants to make Nathan his.

With his former boss hunting them both, time is ticking, and Robert might just not get the chance to decide before it’s too late. More importantly though, Robert will stop at nothing to protect the man who’s made him feel alive again, the man who is the only thing between him and the abyss.

“I never had to think much about death before, but I did yesterday. I thought I would die. In a hole. Covered with dirt. Suffocate underground. But then you saved me.”


WARNING: This story contains scenes of violence, torture, mentions of suicide, offensive language, morally ambiguous characters, homophobia and homophobic language.



Robert slowly lowered himself next to the man and watched the thick fabric move with the hurried rhythm of his breath. “How much do you owe Vogel?” He’d seen so many people in this position before that in Robert’s mind this guy was somehow melting into a collection of them all.

The fabric pulled close to the stranger’s face, making his nose poke at it. “If anything, he owes me! I did what he asked of me. I don’t belong here. It’s all lies!”

“What does that even mean?” Robert asked and nudged the body. His tongue was dry, and he groaned when he realized the bottle was now out of reach. How could this night have gone off the rails so rapidly?

Nathan went quiet for long moment. “Have you ever seen Spartacus? You know, the gladiator TV show?”

Robert frowned, thrown aback. “Are you drunk?”

“No! No… I’ve been sober for a while now.” To Robert’s surprise, Nathan crawled a bit closer in his direction, so dangerously close to the hole that Robert had to stand in his way. “It’s just that there’s this one gladiator there, and if you’ve seen the show, I was wondering if you thought he was gay or bi. I promise this is going somewhere.”

Robert rubbed his flushed face, kneading the flesh and letting his scruff scratch his palms. “Are you trying to tell me you’re gay? Yeah, because this is very important right now.”

Nathan inhaled a deep breath. “I… it’s just that it’s my only fault here, you know? I mean, if you don’t want anyone to know you’re gay, don’t put your dick in a man, right?”

Robert rolled his eyes and pulled out a switchblade. It was dark, and he wasn’t in the mood to look for the zipper. The sleeping bag would join Robert’s former colleagues under the dirt.

He lost balance, falling to his knees instead of just leaning down. Grabbing a handful of the thick fabric, he tore a hole in the sleeping bag. “You propositioned one of Vogel’s men?”

“No! He was the one doing the propositioning! I stayed at his lakeside villa for a week! I thought we’d have a good thing going, that he liked me. And then he flipped and turned into a murdering psycho!” Big blue eyes looked up at Robert from the opening he just created. Pretty like a doll, but the dry blood marring the pale skin under Nathan’s nose reminded Robert that the young man was most definitely made of flesh and bone. His lips were swollen under the red smear, but that didn’t make Nathan any less attractive. If anything, their plumpness made Robert want to lick, nip, and part them with his fingers. Nathan’s cheekbones were the kind you were more likely to see in a magazine than in real life, and the slight dimples to the sides of his lips suggested he used to smile a lot before whatever got him here.

He was a toy thrown away by someone who got tired of playing with it, but it was hard for Robert to imagine how anyone could toss such a gem into the dirt. If this boy were his, he’d—What? What would he do? Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Because Nathan wasn’t the kind of toy Robert was allowed to have. He wasn’t a kid anymore, and his self-control never slipped.

Robert tore the bag with a strong tug to both sides of the cut and offered Nathan his hand. In the blurry light, and looking back into the incredible blue of Nathan’s eyes, it almost felt as if he were the one begging for Nathan’s attention.

Author Bio: 
K. A. Merikan is the pen name for Kat and Agnes Merikan, a team of writers, who are taken for sisters with surprising regularity. Kat’s the mean sergeant and survival specialist of the duo, never hesitating to kick Agnes’s ass when she’s slacking off. Her memory works like an easy-access catalogue, which allows her to keep up with both book details and social media. Also works as the emergency GPS. Agnes is the Merikan nitpicker, usually found busy with formatting and research. Her attention tends to be scattered, and despite pushing thirty, she needs to apply makeup to buy alcohol. Self-proclaimed queen of the roads.

They love the weird and wonderful, stepping out of the box, and bending stereotypes both in life and books. When you pick up a Merikan book, there’s one thing you can be sure of – it will be full of surprises.


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Book Blitz: The Nameless Land by Lazlo Rappaport

Title: The Nameless Landy
Author: Lazlo Rappaport
Genre: Adult, Mythology
Release Date: TBA
Summary:
Desperate to free herself of the dream fox residing in her womb, Anastasia travels off to the shores of the Red Sea and strikes a deal with Lilith: If Anastasia will fashion three mirrors for the primordial witch, so the sorceress will exorcise the evil spirit.

A poetic parable of the modern woman, the riddle of love, and the question of meaning in a seemingly-godless world.


Early the next morning, Lilith slipped from out the mirror in the lobby and followed Anastasia into the hotel’s opulent honeysuckle garden.  It would have been the perfect place to strangle her to death too—if Lilith had resolved to do such a thing.  But how to murder an old friend?   
   
The distant bells of Coventry Cathedral commenced a triumphal tune and then proceeded to count out the hour.
   
Anastasia turned back, breathing in as if she detected something in the current or perhaps even tasted something on her lips.
   
Lilith braced herself.  Had the scent of Egyptian chamomile betrayed her presence?  Even if it had, she kept quiet.  For a while, she observed Anastasia.  More than anything, Lilith marveled at how much the young lady’s blindness had come to complement her beauty.  The blank dreamlike expression in her big blue eyes made her look like an angel—something incorruptible.
   
Had she pledged her body to the Lord above?  Might that be the source of her power?       
   
Over to the left, someone from the hotel staff opened one of the dining-hall windows looking out over the garden.  Soon the air filled with the aroma of cottage pie and fairy cakes.
   
Tapping her walking stick, Anastasia stepped into the sunlight which suddenly played upon her golden hair.  “Lilith, would that be you there?”  Like a little girl, Anastasia scratched at a few of the freckles upon her nose.  “Please say something.”
   
Lilith resolved to remain silent.  Turning to the honeysuckle, she thought back to the beginning of time—the primordial garden where that servile woman brought Adam to ruin.  How did she manage all that?  One day she picked that forbidden apple.  Lilith looked to the hem of her gown and then deep into Anastasia’s blind eyes.  Why not find someone for her?  Even if she had pledged her body to the Lord above, perhaps the proper gentleman could tempt her—and ruin her.
   
In the end, love itself would be her undoing.

What is your favorite book?
Hmm.  I have a very old book filled with Japanese haikus from the Seventeenth Century.  I’m pretty sure that’d be my favorite.

What inspired you to write The Nameless Land?
Yikes, that’s a rather complicated question.  I disbelieve in muses and that sort of thing.  I think that ideas come from the unconscious mind.  All my life, I’ve just simply wanted to write a kind of coming-of-age tale that includes the mythical figure of Lilith.  She’s probably a bit obscure to some, but I find her endlessly fascinating.  The other thing to remember is that my protagonist, Anastasia, is really a composite of all the women I’ve ever loved—particularly when I was younger.  One’s beloved tends to inspire a great deal of writing, art, music, etc.

If you could be any sort of animal, what would it be?
Umm, let me ponder this.  I know I would like to be a fish.  How about a seahorse?  Would that be permissible?

Do you intend to write a sequel to The Nameless Land?
No, I’ve got too many other tales I’d like to write.  And I feel I should get to work on those because I’m not getting any younger.

What will you do if Kindle Scout doesn’t publish The Nameless Land?
Hmm.  I’m not sure.  That’s a rather difficult question.  I think I will probably drown my sorrows in cheeseburgers.  I like a good cheeseburger, don’t you?

In the age of abundance, why should someone want to read The Nameless Land?
Ah, now that’s quite a question.  My work contains subplots dealing with coming of age, love, infatuation and illusory love, and the search for meaning—the search for something worthy of believing in.  It’s not all sex and violence.  It’s a tale many readers can see themselves in.

Author Bio:
Lazlo Rappaport is the pseudonym of a very reclusive author from Ohio.  He wrote the original draft of The Nameless Land while night-clerking at a series of Palestinian youth hostels in the Old City of Jerusalem, 1996-1999.  Under his proper birth name, he holds an M.F.A. in poetry from Sarah Lawrence College.





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