2025 was even more trying for me than any other year in my life as my mother passed away in January and the entire year just sucked. My reading mojo had slowly returned but not quite pre-Covid levels in 2024 but it left me again in 2025 and I only read 140 books, many were audiobooks and rereads. So once again my Best of lists may be shorter but everything I read/listened to were so brilliant it was still a hard choice because every author I read/listened to in 2025 played a part in the moments of distraction that helped keep me sane throughout the first year of my grief journey. So over the next few weeks I'll be featuring my Best Reads as well as Best ofs for my special day posts which are a combination of best reads and most viewed, I hope my Best of list helps you to find a new read, be it new-new or new-to-you or maybe it will help you to rediscover a forgotten favorite. These lists and posts are done chronologically throughout the years reading not ranking order. Happy Reading and my heartfelt wish for everyone is that 2026 will be a year of recovery, growth, and in the world of reading a year of discovering a new favorite.
👀I try to keep the purchasing links as current as possible but they've been known to change for dozens of reasons, in case any of those links no longer work be sure to check out the author's social media links for updated buying info.👀
Summary:
OutFoxing the Paranormal #3
OutFoxing the Paranormal’s benefactor, Ms. Montague, has a new assignment for the team: to investigate the haunted asylum Oscar’s grandmother died in. But upon arriving at the site, they find a rival duo of ghost hunters already there.
Between unexpected competitors and the murderous ghost of a former nurse, the pressure is on for Oscar to live up to his family’s heritage and lay the asylum’s ghosts to rest. Can he prove himself by putting an end to the nurse’s reign of terror, or will the asylum claim yet another victim?
Original Book of the Month Review October 2025:
Just when I didn't think the author could get any freakier and creepier than Rattling Bone, book 2 in their OutFoxing the Paranormal series, out comes #3, Into the Dark. I think many of us have preconceived ideas when it comes to abandoned hospitals of any kind but especially psychiatric or asylums thanks to Hollywood and the Travel Channel which has a few shows like the one's our characters are part of. Sometimes having those ideas going into a book can be difficult to overcome, to not be influenced by, to not use as comparison leaving your expectations too high but for me, I can "look the other way". I love going in with an open mind, especially within the paranormal genre.
I went in with that open mind and everything was fresh but I'll admit once an event occurred in the story, and our characters were left dealing with it, I had cinematic memories pop in but instead of comparing the two, I found I was just more freaked out. Instead of watching the scenes unfold on the screen, they were unfolding in my head, scary stuff.
By now the crew of OutFoxing the Paranormal is well established to us readers so that found family connection is familiar but now they find themselves competing with a fellow ghost hunter show, neither of which was aware the other would be investigating. In this entry, we get to see them interact with not only the dead but unwanted living beings as well. Definitely adds a new level of intriguing fun to the story.
For Oscar this is more personal as this asylum is where his grandmother died and he just wants to free the souls who were left behind to find their ever after peace. Between some not so nice spirits and the addition of the other team, he worries that he won't be able to give the souls the rest he desires in the limited time they have. This is definitely a supercharged , highly emotional, freakies of freaky read that will keep you on the edge of your seat.
On a personal note, one of my great grandfather's passed away in a sanitarium. He was an alcoholic who had suffered a brain injury in a farming accident and spent the last few years of his life in a facility. Thankfully it was a healthy and well respected facility but as I read deeper into this story, I couldn't help but be grateful for the fact that it was nothing like the one Oscar and his team investigate. I know healthy ones are much more common than the kind they write books and make films about but sadly those did exist and I imagine the line between the two is probably a lot thinner than most of want to think about. I added this to my review because having that familial history heightened the emotions, the fear, and made me love every nerve wracking, edge of my seat spine tingles that much more.
Twisted Tome by Vanora Lawless
Summary:Devastating Magic #2
A stubborn empath. A passionate dreamwalker. A love worth fighting for.
For empathic illusionist Warren 'Sully' Sullivan dreamwalking Captain Elliot Stone is more than the only thing keeping him sane and safe. He's the keeper of Sully's heart, even if he can't seem to admit it out loud.
When an ancient grimoire infused with catastrophic magic comes into play, they've got to do everything in their power to keep it from landing in enemy hands. Unfortunately, that means working closely with a man who once shattered Elliot's heart. Someone he would have done anything for.
As insecurity and fear threaten the fledgling relationship between Elliot and Sully, will the darkness closing in around them bring them closer or tear them apart forever?
Original Book of the Month Review November 2025:
Once again I find myself rushed to write the review I really want to. I will say, I was happy to return to this historical fantasy, or perhaps alternative timeline where certain paranormal behavior/elements exist is wordier but more accurate. I'm always on the lookout for WW1/post-war stories in the LGBTQ genre so even though this is fantasy set in historical setting, Twisted Tome still called to me.
As it was with the first entry, Imperfect Illusions, I found the way those paranormal "powers" were used in the time of war incredibly intriguing. Opening with their use of "cloaking" their presence when faced with the enemy was the perfect way to remind me just how useful those abilities could be in wartime. The way the author continues to blend the two genres together is highly talented and entertaining.
Watching Sully & Elliot's relationship further deepen was heartwarming and realistic but also heart-hurting when they find themselves having to work with the man who left Elliot heartbroken. Hard to think of "realistic" when dealing with a fantasy/paranormal historical timeline but the author has done such a wonderful job in the world building, you can't help but forget sometimes that it isn't real. Throw in supporting characters who possess their own "powers" and you have an attention-grabbing read on your hands. With the introduction of the man from Elliot's past, we also get a glimpse into some backstory which, for me, further heightens my connection to the characters with the added element of personal drama without it slowing the story down.
I believe there is suppose to be a third entry in the Devastating Magic series but as this was originally released 2 years ago, I'm unsure on the release date but I know I'll be checking it out when it arrives.
Summary:
Anna Martin's Christmas Shorts
With a fully booked season of high-scale Christmas parties at his pub, The Punch Bowl, Grant Thornton is furious when his corporate alcohol supplier goes out of business three weeks before Christmas. The pub is well-known for its excellent food and quality wine — a reputation that Grant isn’t willing to risk.
Nathan Turner is the manager at Southwark Cellars, just off the South Bank of the Thames, and is baffled by Grant’s intense demeanour and very particular demands. Of course, as a wine expert, Nathan is perfectly placed to help Grant and The Punch Bowl get through the festive season.
Grant has always had big dreams, and Nathan’s wine expertise might be the key to unlocking them. He just needs to decide which to prioritise: his business, or his rapidly growing crush.
Original Review December 2025:
This is probably not the review I intended to write because time just isn't on my side. I loved Anna Martin's entry this year in her annual Christmas Short Stories collection. I can't imagine how devastating it was for Grant to lose his upmarket alcohol supplier at his peak holiday season, luckily for him there is a local who just might be able to offer what he's missing and perhaps a little more. I think if you've read any of Martin's Xmas shorts you'll know this will end in HEA but watching Grant and Nathan get there is fun and entertaining.
Some might find it rushed but it is a holiday short after all so you should expect it going in that there journey is not going to be a slow burn. I know some don't believe in insta-love or near insta-love but I'm living proof it's real and lasting. My grandparents meant in early January 1946, were engaged on Valentine's Day, married the end of July and were still happily married when my grandfather passed away in 1994. So it is real and Anna Martin does a brilliantly fun job with Nathan and Grant finding theirs. We might not see the longgame in Fizz the Season but we see the beginnings and it'll put a smile on your face and brighten your day. What more could one ask for? Short, sweet, and a holiday gem worthy of the author's holiday series.
The Accidental Christmas Omega by Ava Beringer
Summary:
Omega Holidays #1
A fire took everything…except my unborn child, due Christmas Day. When the alpha of my dreams temporarily takes me in, can I resist falling for him?
Hapless rookie FBI agent Shane Hawkins loves showing off his badge to impress to omegas. When he falls in love with a vulnerable omega on the news, he rushes to find a safe place for him. When a mix-up makes him responsible for Drew Darling and his unborn child, Shane has to become a stand-up alpha quick. Can he figure himself out before Drew and his baby leave forever?
Omega military widower Drew Darling’s house just burned down. Oh, and he’s eight months pregnant. With a baby due on Christmas day, he has no place to go and no one to turn to. FBI agent Shane Hawkins comes to his rescue, and Drew falls for him on day one. Shane’s irreverence grates on him, but there’s no denying Shane’s heart of gold, or the immediate animal attraction. Will Drew’s grief stop him from embracing a brand new love?
Can Shane sacrifice for a life of love? When the new year comes, will it be time for Drew- and his newborn- to go? Will the baby really arrive on Christmas day?
This book is about 37,000 words and has a HEA. 18+ readers only please! This book contains occasional strong language, MPREG/Omegaverse, and hot, spicy grownup stuff. The omegas are heating up and the alphas are very knotty boys.
Original Review December 2025:
This is only the second story in the author's Omega Holidays series I have had a chance to read and loved it just as much as the other, if not more actually. Perhaps it is just the Christmas element that put this above His Accidental Memorial Day Omega but I have loved them both.
As for Accidental Christmas Omega, this is a sweet and fun read, despite the heartache that puts Shane and Drew on the same journey. Drew, having lost almost everything is facing a lonely and long road ahead and Shane is a very brash, act before thinking things through FBI agent. When fate brings them together, the author provides a story of healing and discovery, with just the right blend of heart and romcom, making for a very enjoyable, emotional at times, entertaining read. Being Christmastime is just icing on the Christmas cookie that will put a smile on your face.
RATING:
Summary:
For Sam, every moment counts. Life is precious and finite. He’s grateful for every second and hasn’t taken anything for granted for the past five years. With his two best friends, lovable cat, and his bucket list, he’s determined to value every experience and all the people around him. Even the grumpy new town resident who Sam can’t leave alone, no matter how many times the handsome man tells him to.
Lukas is a vampire exhausted with humanity, bored with everything, and wishing the council would put him out of his misery. Instead, they gave him orders that had him moving to a small town with a lot of nosy people. His love of ice cream is the only reason he begrudgingly deals with humans—one of whom in particular he can’t seem to shake.
Together, Sam and Lukas awaken parts of themselves they never knew existed. With each passing day, Lukas unknowingly helps Sam cross something off his bucket list. But just when life seems perfect, it comes crashing down.
For the first time, Lukas wants forever so he can spend it with Sam, only to hit roadblocks at every turn. Sam has come to terms with his fate. Born on the edge of goodbye, the only thing Sam isn’t prepared for is falling in love and the possibility of leaving it all behind.
The Edge of Goodbye is a standalone M/M paranormal romance with a strong HEA and no cliffhanger
I'm going to start off by saying, Davidson King has done it again. Such an emotional and powerful journey. Next, I'm going to get a little personal here, The Edge of Goodbye is amazing but I'll be honest, I should not have read this right now. On January 13th, it'll be a year since my mother passed away and reading hasn't held the same pull for me this year as it usually does but that isn't why I should have waited. The reasons behind Sam's journey(I won't spoil it for anyone so I won't mention specifics) may be different than my mother's but I could see so many elements that resonated in our daily lives. There came a point where I just broke down completely and that was when I knew I should have set this aside before beginning. I won't say it broke me but it probably was as close as anything has in 2025 AND YET I couldn't stop. I'm not a DNF reader, I've been known to set a book aside for multiple reasons but I always come back and finish it but I just couldn't do that with Goodbye. The heartache was worth it and frankly, that probably speaks louder volumes about how amazing this story is than anything I can come up with. I have no triggers when it comes to reading and watching but if I did, this probably would have been one of them, so be sure you're prepared for the heart hurting before the heartwarming. Truth is, the tears Sam's journey brought to the surface probably helped more than they seemed at the time and for that, I say, Thank You, Davidson King, you didn't heal my heart but you helped fill a notch.
Okay, now to the story.
As I said above, I won't spoil anything but I'll mention a little. Sam might rub a few the wrong way, he can be a bit overwhelming and borderline pushy but I get why he's that way. As an introvert, I don't think I could be that way in his situation but I applaud his fight and determination to enjoy every second of life. On the other side, Lukas comes across as grumpy and borderline(maybe not so borderline at first) rude but I can also understand why he is that way too. Being able to make the reader see both sides of the personality ruler is just another example of King's storytelling and world building talent.
As a paranormal lover, I've read many ways authors have created their own vampire lore. I loved how King uses the Hollywood folklore we all associate with vampires to build her own. I can honestly say, Lukas' love of ice cream is one I can see myself partaking in if I was a vampire too. Again, I won't spoil the lore she created so you'll have to read it for yourself to see if you would agree with Lukas or not.
This might have the smallest supporting cast of any of King's works but each played a part, none were a page filler, and they all helped paint a picture that was believable(which in a paranormal genre sounds an odd thing to say but no less true).
Don't let my initial paragraph scare you, The Edge of Goodbye, is one not to be missed. I probably should have waited to read it for personal reasons that came close to breaking me but at the same time, I couldn't stop and when I swiped the last page, I found a crack in my heart that wasn't as big as it was when I started. Whether you choose to be a part of Sam and Lukas' journey now or later, just know you don't want to miss it. It may seem heavy at times but it's entertaining from beginning to end and that's all I ever ask for.
One last side note: I have added this to my Xmas shelf even though the holiday is a tiny blip in wordage but as I am in the "Die Hard is a Christmas Movie" camp, I view my readings the same, if the holiday is mentioned than its holiday story.
Into the Dark by Jordan L Hawk
Chapter One
Howlston Lunatic Asylum, Howlston, WV. 1979
Barbara Fox didn’t have much time left.
She knew it: urgently when she could avoid the drugs, distantly when she couldn’t. Some nurses checked more thoroughly than others. And there had been a stretch of time…one year? two?…when the doctor ordered the whole ward lined up once a day and given injections of Prolixin to render them pliable, no matter what their initial diagnosis.
That had been…bad. She tried not to remember the screaming faces of the dead, crowding around her, desperate to be heard. The drugs slowed her thoughts, made it impossible to concentrate. Impossible to guard herself against their sorrow and pain.
If only that had been the worst of it.
Her tongue spasmed involuntarily, and her hands tightened on the smooth wooden banister running along the wall between rooms. It was meant to help steady patients, and she both hated she needed to use it and was grateful for its presence.
She glanced around, using the curtain of her hair—once her pride, now hanging in lank strings—to hide her gaze. No nurses nearby, so she shuffled a few more feet, closer to the locked door at the end of the ward. Other women wandered the hall along with her, made restless by Haldol or their own minds.
“Get out,” whispered a voice from no living mouth.
If only she could. Barbara didn’t have the strength left to block out the voices of the dead. There was nothing she could do to help them anymore. But maybe, maybe, she could help the living.
They’d finally taken Suzette to the medical ward, once her deep, wracking coughs became too frequent for even the overworked nurses to ignore. She’d gotten sick the night Barbara heard the voice of a dead man talking to her in the next room over. Over time, what had been a light cough attributable to the dust and pollen changed into something wet and gurgling as her lungs began to rot.
She wasn’t the first to go this way. If Barbara didn’t act, she wouldn’t be the last, either.
Gritting her teeth, Barbara shuffled closer to the door. The ward was a quiet one, most of its inhabitants drugged to the point of somnolence. Sometimes the nurses got sloppy, forgot to lock a door. She just needed to get lucky.
Lucky. A bitter laugh bubbled somewhere deep inside, then died before reaching her lips. Lucky didn’t tangle with a murderous ghost, get possessed—however briefly—and end up here.
They said the ghosts weren’t real. Said she was schizophrenic, then gave her drugs that made everything so much worse.
She wasn’t getting out of here alive. Scott, her baby boy, was almost a man now. She’d never dance at his wedding, never hold a grandbaby, never…
Tears threatened; she squeezed her eyes shut to keep them in. No use worrying about things she couldn’t change, that was what her mamaw always said. What happened outside these walls was beyond her reach forever.
But in here…
A rot infected the heart of this place. She could smell it sometimes, during the night when the ghostly creak of gurney wheels rolled past her door. A stink of gangrene and pus, a wound so infected and so deep it sickened everything around it. Turned orderlies mean, depressed nurses, and twisted the minds of the poor souls who’d come here needing help and found only overcrowded halls and electro-shock. In the worse cases, it crept into bodies and corrupted them, drowning lungs or inflaming organs.
Her defenses were paper-thin, torn apart by the drugs, but she was still a spirit-worker like her mamaw. Put on this earth to help bring peace to the dead, and thus to the living they haunted.
There were so, so many dead here who needed help she could no longer give them. But maybe, if she could burn out the rotten core, she could save the living like Suzette. With luck, cauterizing the wound would let the harmless dead move along as well.
Not much farther. She was almost at the door. Barbara glanced around again, saw no nurses, and reached for it.
The handle turned. They’d forgotten to lock it.
Moving as quickly as she was able these days, she swung it open—and stopped in her tracks.
A big woman loomed in front of her, dressed in a nurse’s uniform, the trailing skirt and frilled cap long out of date. Her eyes locked with Barbara’s, blazing with fury. Her mouth opened, stretched wider and wider, far past any human limit.
“Get back!” The words roared from the hollow cavern of her ghastly mouth, accompanied by a frigid blast that stank of freezer-burned meat.
Caught off guard, Barbara cried out and staggered away. Her twitching muscles betrayed her; she fell heavily to the floor, banging one elbow.
Within seconds, living nurses hurried into the hall, drawn by the sound. “Damn it, Deirdre, you left the door unlocked again!” one of them shouted. She walked toward the door, oblivious to the dead woman.
“Stop!” Barbara yelled at the ghost. “I can help you! Why couldn’t you have just let me through?”
She sounded crazy, she knew it, but what else could she do? Other nurses grabbed her arms; she tried to fight, biting and scratching wildly until she felt the sharp sting of a needle in her biceps.
No. No, this had been her one chance. Suzette’s one chance. They’d watch her from now on, make sure she swallowed her pills, maybe even confine her to her room. She struggled to get free, but already her limbs felt heavy and her thoughts began to fuzz.
“Call Dr. Dixon,” ordered one of the nurses restraining her. “She needs to go back to the fourth floor. And lock that door!”
The nurse closest to the door shut it, never realizing she stood only inches from a dead woman. Through the crack as it closed, Barbara saw the phantom nurse nod firmly, as if at a job well done.
One more life ruined.
Twisted Tome by Vanora Lawless
CHAPTER ONE
May 4, 1918
Belgium
IN THE LAST BREATH of evening light, Elliot shoved Warren into a stable as the sound of boots in fast pursuit echoed outside. Startled horses snorted and stomped in their stalls. Elliot’s heart pounded loud in his ears alongside his heaving breaths. Hay crinkled underfoot, the musty scent of animal and decay heavy in the air.
Warren pressed close, his eyes dark and intent on Elliot’s. He guided Elliot back into a corner, his calloused hands rasping over Elliot’s cheeks, cupping his face. The door burst open, but Warren’s mouth only twitched into an irresistible smirk. Elliot’s gaze darted to it and he wet his own lips.
German soldiers flung open the doors, barking loud orders at each other. Elliot watched over Warren’s shoulder, his chest squeezing tight, fingers tensing over the pistol at his waist. He held his breath as a soldier approached, but the man’s gaze passed over the space they occupied without sign of alarm. Elliot exhaled slowly, trying to be as quiet as possible. Although he trusted Warren’s illusion to conceal sounds, there was no need to test it.
Around them, the noise of the search continued, but Elliot’s attention was recaptured by Warren’s shadowed gaze, full of adrenaline and edged with lust as he tipped his head up, lips parting in invitation.
A jolt of shocked arousal heated Elliot as Warren slid his hardening prick against Elliot’s thigh. He barely held back a groan as he ducked his head to kiss Warren, against his better judgement. The pressure and yield of Warren’s soft mouth was both pleasure and temptation; he couldn’t resist dipping his tongue inside, clutching Warren’s hips and dragging his body closer. This was the worst time, the worst place, and still Elliot couldn’t help himself. Need and desire had him in their implacable grasp, and Elliot had no intention of fighting when it was so much easier to give into the stroke of Warren’s tongue, the gentle pressure of his teeth against Elliot’s bottom lip.
Warren’s breathing hitched, and he rubbed slowly against Elliot’s own trapped, swollen cock. Molten pleasure consumed him. Elliot was half a second away from hauling Warren up to wrap his legs around Elliot’s waist when Warren tore his mouth free with a breathless chuckle.
Elliot’s pulse skyrocketed with delayed alarm, glancing past Warren to find the stable empty save the animals. “Christ,” he muttered.
Warren pressed his face into the curve of Elliot’s neck and shoulder, silent laughter wracking him. “Your face. Your eyes just—” He choked.
Served him right. “Yes, well, forgive me for a moment’s concern when I remembered what we were in the middle of and worried I’d distracted you,” Elliot said dryly. Which set Warren off once more. Elliot’s own amusement was difficult to conceal. “Whenever you’re finished.”
After a moment, Warren sobered and stepped back. “You are distracting, but I made you a promise. I’ll always keep you safe.”
Warmth flooded Elliot, and he had to look away.
“I showed them a quick illusion of us crawling out a window back there,” Warren said, gesturing to the back of the stable behind a big horse, made larger by the darkness. “They all took off around the building to give chase.”
“Come on,” Elliot said, taking Warren’s hand and leading him to the door. “We’d better get out of here while we have the opportunity.”
He didn’t have to ask Warren to conceal them as he cracked it open and checked the street. They’d been through this routine enough over the winter, rescuing key Belgian and French soldiers in occupied territory. They had it down pat.
By now his second in command, Lieutenant Bell—Bellona, as they called her—and the rest of their team would have Caporal Lucien D’aramitz stashed away at the safe house. LFB, a spy network they’d been working closely with, had provided it as a temporary gathering point before they made the return journey to their home base in Fienvillers. Hopefully the place would have hot water so they could finally get clean.
After a tense journey back to their well-concealed motorcycle, then an uneventful drive for which they were both grateful, Elliot and Warren arrived at the location they’d been directed to.
Climbing out of the sidecar, Warren grumbled under his breath, and Elliot tried not to look entertained. Warren still hated riding in one, but he didn’t particularly enjoy driving a motorcycle either. Elliot gave his shoulder a reassuring pat, and in the moonlight caught the roll of Warren’s eyes. He couldn’t keep a smile down.
“You’re lucky I like you,” Warren said, clearly trying for grumpy, but sounding much too fond.
Nodding, Elliot agreed. “I have been blessed.”
“Damn right.”
And because it was dark and no one was outside, Elliot stole a quick kiss before knocking on the door, inhaling the familiar enthralling scent of Warren. A warm surge of affection gathered in his chest, his lips tingling, as he forced a mild expression onto his face.
Bellona opened the door, her expression warm as she greeted them before settling into something serious. “We’ve got an issue we weren’t expecting, I’m afraid. I’m glad you’ve arrived. We only just found out about him ourselves.”
“Who, D’Aramitz? Was anyone injured?” Elliot asked quickly, stepping inside.
“No one was injured, come on. You’ll see.”
They found the team gathered around a man seated on a settee. His dark hair was long, stringy and unwashed, and his French army uniform had certainly seen better days. He looked as if he could use a hot shower, several meals, and a week’s sleep. His face was battered and bruised. Elliot suspected it wasn’t the only place he’d been hit considering how he cradled his ribs.
Kneeling before him was another French soldier Elliot didn’t recognize. His hair was a lighter shade of brown and he was much slimmer. Short too, with a young appearance and big eyes set over an upturned nose and thin mouth.
At their entrance, all heads had turned to Elliot and Warren. Caporal Remonet and Charbonneau, the two French army members of their team, had been talking with Lara Baudin, their LFB agent liaison. Hoffman was standing back from the group, and he nodded to Elliot and Warren.
“Thank goodness,” Lara said with genuine cheer. “We were starting to worry we might need to mount a second rescue. Bell was beside herself.”
Bellona narrowed her gaze at Lara from where she’d stopped beside Remonet. “I was no such thing.”
“Aw, you care about us,” Elliot said, relieved to see everyone in one piece.
“Obviously,” she said, her hands going to her hips.
Warren chuckled, and Bellona’s glare turned on him. He held up his hands in surrender. “Hey, don’t look at me. I know you’re not the panicking type. I’m sure Lara’s exaggerating.”
Bellona flushed and gestured as she made introductions. “Captain Stone, Corporal Sullivan, meet Caporal Lucien D’Aramitz, and Caporal Gabriel Auclair.”
“Pleasure to meet you,” Elliot said. Warren’s gaze darted speculatively between the two men, D’Aramitz sitting and Auclair kneeling, which prompted Elliot to ask. “Weren’t we only expecting one?”
“We were,” Lara agreed, with a tinge of guilt in her expression. “Gabriel—Auclair,” she corrected, “is my cousin. He’s been searching for D’Aramitz for weeks. When your team took up his cause, I alerted him to get here as quickly as he could. I know what you’re going to say, I shouldn’t have compromised your mission, but there’s so much more happening here than your team was let in on.”
Hoffman crossed his arms, stance shifting from relaxed to suspicious. Beside him, Remonet’s eyebrows rose. Elliot couldn’t say he felt different, unease prickling the back of his neck.
“You could not have brought this to our attention before?” Charbonneau asked.
Auclair shot to his feet. “She was forced to make a judgement.” His French accent was strong, and his voice was painfully earnest. “It’s difficult when you have competing loyalty. We try to fight a war for our nations at the same time we fight to save the world from terrible evil.”
“What kind of evil?” Warren asked, sounding skeptical. He’d shifted closer to Elliot, nearly in front of him, as if planning to shield him if it all went sideways.
Auclair and D’Ararmitz shared a look that spoke of years of silent conversation. Auclair’s gaze seemed to linger on the half-healed gash that stretched along D’Aramitz’s right cheekbone. His mouth went tight, and his eyes widened, clearly pleading. D’Aramitz sighed.
“It is a very long story, but to make it less, my family has been guarding a dangerous artifact for centuries. As far as we know, it cannot be destroyed, only contained, and it is our duty to ensure that it is kept so. We have managed through kings and revolutions, and my brothers have done their best through this war, but six weeks ago I lost contact with all of them. Lara was able to get a friend to visit the vineyard to find out why, but her friend vanished.”
“I assume that’s what led you to leave your post?” Elliot asked, guessing, since they hadn’t been told any such thing.
Auclair stepped closer to him, glaring as D’Aramitz grimaced. “What should we have done? Let the world burn in exchange for two soldiers to remain in a never-ending battle?”
“Ça suffit, Gabriel,” D’Aramitz murmured, resting a gloved hand on his forearm. “We found the vineyard untouched, but my entire family gone, along with Gabriel’s. What we guard was gone as well and all that remained in its place was a coded message from one of my brothers. A hint at where to find him.”
“So how’d you get captured, but not him?” Warren asked, tilting his head from D’Aramitz to Auclair.
“I went to search the vineyard while D’Aramitz went to the hidden room only the guards can enter,” Auclair explained, his face pinching with pain. “I was looking for my sister. By the time I return to the main house, he was missing. There were signs of struggle. I didn’t know who had come for him, but he would not go willingly without me.”
D'Aramitz’s lips quirked in a lopsided little smile. “Of course not.”
Auclair nodded as if he’d been repeating the same thing to himself for ages, and hearing D’Aramitz confirm it was an immense relief. “It…” He seemed lost, staring into the middle distance. “It took some time for me to know what to do. Then I went to Lara for help, and she started her contacts working, put me to use on other tasks to occupy me so I didn’t go mad waiting. You cannot blame Lara for giving me this location.”
“What I don’t understand,” Elliot said, “is why on earth we were sent after a deserter in the first place. No offense. If you left your post without a trace, and this thing you guard is supposed to be a secret, I assume?”
“Yes,” D’Aramitz confirmed without hesitation.
“Then why are the French looking so hard for you?”
D’Aramitz scrubbed at his face with both hands, wincing when the movement reopened the scab on his cheek. Auclair dug in his pocket and handed him a clean handkerchief. “I’ve wondered as much since your soldiers took me out of confinement. They must know something, it is the only explanation. And my family’s secret in their hands would be just as damaging as in German ones. It cannot be allowed to…” He struggled with his words, and when he found them, generations of unbearable weight echoed in them. “To be used in this war or any other. Ever. Some magic is lost for good reason.”
Elliot glanced at Warren, who quickly answered his unspoken question. “He’s telling the truth. He’s terrified of it, whatever it is.”
“So should you all be. The Germans attempt for weeks to get information from me about the location, and I gave them only lies. Because no torture would be as horrifying as what the artifact can do in the wrong skilled hands.”
Auclair made a small sad sound as he looked at D’Aramitz, before returning his distressed gaze to Elliot. “Lara told me you have orders to return D’Aramitz to our government, and if you must, I will go as well. But…”
D’Aramitz took over the plea. “But we would do the world more good searching for my brother, to keep that insidious thing the secret it must remain.”
Elliot surveyed his team’s conflicted expressions. They all wanted this war to end, were sick of losing people, wanted to be home with their loved ones. But he knew each and every one of them. Not a single soul on his team would choose to give a government they understood to be often unscrupulous the kind of weapon that would endanger the world.
Except where did that leave them?
“Sullivan, you’re certain?” Elliot asked, thinking on his feet as he rolled out his tight shoulder muscles.
“Yeah, I’m sure. Neither of ’em show any sign of lying. And Auclair’s emotions are particularly loud and clear. I don’t think he could pull off a lie if he tried.” He was so attractive when he was confident and teasing. Even if the person he was teasing wasn’t Elliot.
D’Aramitz chuckled and Auclair huffed. Elliot rubbed the back of his neck, struggling with a course of action. His gut agreed with Warren, but how much could he safely risk to do the right thing?
“We cannot disobey direct orders,” he said, reluctantly. Auclair and D’Aramitz both tensed. Warren, Bellona, and Hoffman all started to protest, but Elliot continued to speak, only elevating his volume to be heard. “That said, we’ll all need rest to recuperate for the return journey. Are there enough rooms upstairs to go around, Lara?”
Confusion flitted across her face, joining disappointment. “Yes?”
“Excellent.” Elliot refocused on Auclair and D’Aramitz. “I trust the two of you will remain here for the night without any need for official supervision, and we’ll head out in the morning. In the meantime, perhaps we could find a first aid kit for D’Aramitz?”
“Unnecessary,” Auclair said, shifting to block anyone from coming close to D’Aramitz. Perhaps unwilling to believe they weren’t a threat. “I am a healer. Very low ability, but I can take care of his injuries.”
“Right, well, see you bright and early then.”
Fizz the Season by Anna Martin
It was a little after two in the afternoon when the bell above the shop door tinkled to announce a new customer. Nathan glanced over at the door, then did a full double-take. The man currently storming up to his counter looked furious.
With me? Nathan thought to himself. He brushed his hands down the front of the canvas apron he wore over a white shirt and jeans.
“Hi,” the angry man bit out.
“Hello,” Nathan replied, pushing his glasses up on his nose. “Welcome to Southwark Cellars. How can I help?”
The angry man was wearing a black T-shirt and black jeans, and no jacket, despite the fact that it was December in London and it was absolutely freezing outside. His choice of clothes did show off his heavily tattooed arms, though, and the all-black look made his very blue eyes pop.
“Do you supply wholesale?”
Nathan considered that for a second. “Yes. Mostly. It depends on what you want.”
“My supplier just went out of business, it’s three weeks until Christmas, I am fully booked five nights a week with Christmas parties, and I have no fucking wine.”
“Ah,” Nathan said. If he were in the angry man’s position, he’d be angry too. “Four Seasons?”
If anything, mentioning Four Seasons seemed to make him even angrier.
“How do you know about Four Seasons?”
Nathan lifted a shoulder in an easy shrug. “I work in the wine business. When a major supplier goes into administration, we tend to hear about these things.”
They’d been gossiping about nothing else in the shop for the past two days, wondering if the news would affect them at all. Nathan hadn’t quite been expecting the impact to land on his doorstep quite so quickly.
“Yeah, well, I had an order of over three hundred bottles that was due to be delivered yesterday, and I only found out this morning that not only are they not being delivered today, they’re not being delivered at all.” He dragged his fingers through his hair, leaving it fashionably messy.
Nathan offered him a sympathetic smile. “I’m really sorry. I’m Nathan. Nathan Turner.”
“Grant Morris. Nice to meet you.”
The Accidental Christmas Omega by Ava Beringer
1
DREW
A sound; Plunk. A whisper; Drew. Wake up.
“Not yet. Five more minutes, you drill sergeant,” I groaned. A laugh. Come on, I wanna get some of those tamales at the farmer’s market and they sell out early.
“Not yet.” Plunk. Drew! “Five more minutes, then we’ll get your special tamales.” Plunk. Drew! Wake up. He grinned and shook me. “Drew! Wake up!”
I shot up in bed, expecting darkness, instead hell was waiting at my door.
My neighbor Helga was under my window, throwing rocks and screaming frantically. The air was thick with smoke, billowing all around.
“My house is on fire,” I said out loud, dumbly. “Help!” I yelled, but the roar of the flames, trying to break through my door, swallowed my voice.
“Don’t open a door when there’s fire on the other side,” Jimmy used to say in his serious, soldier-y way. “When it gets more oxygen it’ll really go up.”
“I got it, I got it,” I would tease. “I promise not to get cooked in a house fire. Thanks, baby. I’m keeping that promise. But if I couldn’t go out the door, how did I get out?
I cradled my belly, big and round with my husband Jimmy’s baby, thirty-seven weeks along. I have to save our baby.
“The balcony.” I leapt out of bed, tripping on the sheets wrapped around my legs, uncoordinated because of my size and precious cargo. I paused a moment, grabbing Jimmy’s working parka and slinging it around my shoulders as I ran. Some nights I liked to put it in his spot and pretend he was still with me; luckily, I did it tonight.
I burst out of the French doors onto our balcony. Its view was nothing special, just the cul-de-sac in our quiet, sleepy little neighborhood in the hills beyond the state park. There was pandemonium in the street as my neighbors screamed and fires raged all around. I truly had woken up in hell.
A late season wildfire. The park rangers usually did an excellent controlled burn; what could have possibly happened to cause this? I had to get down from this balcony. I was low enough that if I jumped I would live, but it wasn’t gonna be pretty.
I had a choice to make. The heat cooked my back and more smoke poured out of my room as everything my husband and I had worked for went up in smoke. The fire ate through my door and crept up behind me.
Helga and a couple of my other neighbors gathered beneath my balcony.
“Drew, you have to jump! We’ll catch you! Jump, we have to get out of here!” Fire engines screamed in the background. Help was on the way, but how far were they? Not close enough. The fire finally ate away at the door and smoke poured out of the windows on my lower level.
“The fire’s eating through the house!” Helga yelled, hands cupped around her mouth. “The walls aren’t gonna hold!” My baby. With a final rub of my belly, I lifted a leg over the railing, then the other one. I held myself out over the open air, my heroic neighbors waiting for me with their arms outstretched. Gripping the railing for dear life, I slid down into a crouch. The railing groaned and heated up; it was starting to warp and melt; I didn’t have much time. I let my feet dangle, then slid off, still holding on. I went too fast, the angle nearly wrenching my shoulders out of their sockets when my arms were extended. My neighbors gathered below me.
“Drew, let go!” Helga called. I let go and fell…it felt like forever, but I was caught by four pairs of waiting arms. My ankle hit the ground at a bad angle and I rolled it, but the pain didn’t register. A fire engine roared up my street, calling for us to evacuate. My car was in my garage, already gone up in flames. Firefighters burst out of their engines and red-painted SUVs.
“In the truck, let’s go!” The closest fireman roared. He didn’t need to tell me twice. He jumped down to help me into the cab, his hands strong but caring. Everyone loaded in, slamming the doors. It was a tight squeeze, but the truck immediately did a three-point turn and raced out of our cul-de-sac.
“Who’s missing?” The driver, a muscular alpha woman, demanded.
“My wife,” One omega man piped up.
“My son and my dog.” Another voice said.
The firewoman got on her com. “Echo, we’ve got at least three missing. Woman, man, dog. Stand by for addresses…”
“We’re taking everyone straight to the hospital.” The fireman said, with the kind of authoritative voice that put you at ease. “Don’t worry. You’re safe now. I’m Jamison and this is Kelly with Primrose Keep Fire and Rescue, and we’ll be taking good care of you.” He turned to me. “Sir, are you hurt?”
I blinked stupidly. “I, um…yes?”
“Kel, radio it in. Pregnant omega male incoming, priority…” He started talking again, but it was like I was walking down a tunnel and couldn’t hear him. “Sir? Sir?”
“I think he’s in shock, Jamie.” The sound was far away. All the voices faded. I turned my head to look behind me. The last thing I saw was the home I shared with my deceased husband being swallowed by raging red flames.
Everything went black.
A few hours later, I woke up in the hospital under a mountain of pain, hacking and coughing from my battered lungs. The white lights were too bright and the sterile smell irritated my nose. My ankle throbbed and my shoulders were killing me, but the physical pain was nothing compared to the black hole inside my gut.
Knock, knock. A woman’s head poked into my emergency bay. The curtain hissed as she pulled it back.
“Mr. Darling, I’m Dr. White. I’m glad to see you awake and alert.” I tried to speak, but my voice wouldn’t come. I could only stare at her face, haggard from the frenzied rush and lack of sleep.
She took a step inside. “You’ve got a sprained ankle, but it isn’t broken. You suffered mild smoke inhalation. Other than that, a few scrapes and bruises-”
I found my voice then. “My baby?” My throat was raw and sore from the smoke. She offered a soft smile.
“Initial signs say perfectly healthy.” I let out a long, whistling breath from my inflamed lungs and laid my head back on the bed. The most important thing was safe. My precious child, healthy and whole. “We called your emergency contact; your grandmother in Augusta, Georgia, correct? Do you have any relatives or friends you can spend the night with?”
“No.” All I had was Jimmy and he was gone. I lifted my arm. His coat was still on me, but it was torn, singed, and streaked with smoke.
I broke down and wept again, but this time with an audience.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. Darling. Truly, I am.” She patted my hand, and in that moment her genuine sympathy made me angry, because what was I supposed to do with it? Was it going to fix my ruined life? “We’ll be able to discharge you soon. Survivors like yourself are generally being sent to the Omega Center, and if not there than to one of the center’s trusted host families. You’ll be safe and warm and get good food and adequate care for your baby. It’s a safe place to start to make sense of all this.” There is no sense to this, I wanted to say, but all I could do was cry harder. The doctor set a box of tissue down by my side and tucked a couple in my hand.
“Zach Morrey’s on his way. He runs the center and as my kids would say, he’s the chillest guy I’ve ever met. You’re in good hands with him, you’ll see.” After another couple of arm rubs, she took her leave, probably to take care of the next wretch who’d lost everything tonight.
The baby stretched out inside me, turning my belly into a funny oblong shape, more like an oval. I let myself smile and ran my hand over the little bulge that I took to be their hand.
“Not everything,” I whispered. “I have the most important thing.”
Knock, knock. I jerked my head up. There was a man in the doorway; an omega with a backwards PK Thorns snapback and blond hair that reached the nape of his neck, wearing a t-shirt with the collar cut out. He was broad-shouldered and had some muscle on him, and along with a relaxed half-grin, looked more like a guy I’d see on a skateboard riding along the beach.
“Mr. Darling?” I nodded and he took a slow step into the room. “I’d ask you how it’s going, but that’d be a pretty dumb question, huh, man?” I snorted a bitter laugh. “I’m Zach from the Omega Center. We’re gonna get you down there and get you some hot food and rest. How’s that sound?” He smiled like he didn’t have a care in the world, one of his front teeth slightly overlapping the other, and I wanted to escape into that world. He held a hand out for me and I took it. He treated me carefully and gently, and I wondered how many times he’d done something like this, and for how many years.
It was a short drive to the center as we were already downtown. Smoke smothered the city like a sinister brownish-gray blanket. The building was nothing special, just an older seventies-era elementary school that had been repurposed. It was the energy that hung over it that bothered me.
Inside, I was greeted by misery and grief.
“I didn’t know the fire took so many homes,” I whispered.
Zach nodded as he led me through the cafeteria. “Yeah. Too many families suffering tonight.” It was mostly omegas and tons of children, but a few alphas were sprinkled here and there, huddling with their families. So many empty eyes stared back at me as I checked out the scene.
“Can I get a hot plate out here, boss?” Zach called into the doorway, like he wasn’t the boss. Food. My stomach growled. I hadn’t eaten in ages. Zach chuckled. “Two plates.” Zach took the plates of what smelled like pasta from the cook and carried them for me.
“Why don’t we go straight to your room so you can have a little more quiet time?”
“That would be great, thank you.” The sadness, the weeping, and the boisterous kids were frying my nervous system after I’d already been traumatized. There was a massive Christmas tree, maybe twenty feet tall, in the corner of the cafeteria.
“Just put that up yesterday.”
“It’s nice.” It was a beacon of hope for me, a bright spot in all the gloom.
“Perfect timing, then. I’m gonna have you in a room with three other pregnant omegas. I apologize for having to squeeze you in like this.”
“I’m just happy to have food and a place to sleep. I can’t thank you enough, Zach.”
Zach shrugged, the half-smile on his face. “I’m just a guy who wants to help. I’m looking for host families and I’m prioritizing pregnant omegas and those with little babies. I’m hoping to get you someplace where you can be at ease real soon.” He stacked a plate on his wrist like a waiter, so he’d have a hand free, and opened a door into what probably used to be an office. There were four beds crammed inside. A pregnant woman was sleeping with her back to the door and the other two beds were empty, those omegas probably in the cafeteria. Zach set my plates down on a little side table and straightened up to leave, giving me a little smile.
I didn’t know why, but suddenly I was hugging Zach. He didn’t act surprised, just held me for a long time. I sniffled and a few tears fell, but I pulled myself together when the baby moved and the smell of lasagna and garlic bread called my name.
Zach left to go run other parts of the center and I inhaled both plates of food, trying to keep my lip-smacking and fork-scraping quiet.
Belly full, I laid down and rested a hand on my side. Grief, misery, shock, and terror for what the future held for me and my unborn child overtook me. I wept again, big, sopping tears that stained my clothes. My sore chest shook and an ugly whine snuck out of my mouth. “I have my baby. I have my baby,” I chanted. I curled up around my belly, determined to protect them from any harm that could befall them. “We’ll be alright. Me and you, we’ll be alright.”
I wrapped Jimmy’s coat around me tighter and cried myself to sleep.
The Edge of Goodbye by Davidson King
Chapter One
Sam
“I’m gonna do it!”
The little boy on the other side of the counter shouted, “No!”
“It’s happening.” I was trying hard to hold in my laughter.
“Please, Sammy, no gummy bears!”
“How can you have a Berenstain Bears crafted cone without bears, Lewis?” I lowered my hand and dumped the gummy bears into the small bowl.
“I love the Berenstain Bears, but gummy bears are gross.” He scowled. Lewis couldn’t have been older than six. He came in every Saturday with his grandpa to Cone Crafters Ice Cream Shop, where I worked. And every week, it was a different order for Lewis.
“Hmm.” I tapped my chin. “What are your feelings on Teddy Grahams?”
His eyes widened, and his voice filled with wonder. “On an ice cream cone?”
I shrugged. “Why not? What, are the ice cream police going to come and arrest me?”
He giggled, and his grandpa ruffled his head. “No.”
With a solid nod, I stuck the cone into the holder and rushed to the storage room, where there was a box of Teddy Grahams. I got four of them and returned. Lewis watched with a huge grin on his face as I strategically placed each bear. They were bigger than gummy bears, and it was difficult but here at Cone Crafters, we specialized in extreme ice cream architecture.
“Bam!” I stepped away, my fingers spread wide. “Look at that.”
Lewis and his grandpa clapped. I grandly handed the cone over to the boy and then regarded his grandpa. “What are you having today?”
“Nothing so extravagant. Perhaps just a cup of rum raisin.”
“You got it.”
Once I had the two of them squared away, I grabbed a rag and washed down the area. It got sticky fast and while I loved creating cool cones, I hated being sticky.
“Sam. Oh my God, Sam!”
I turned just in time to see my best friend Natalie rushing through the back room over to me, her hands flapping, a huge, excited expression on her face. She had her blond hair in her typical ponytail, and her glasses were all askew.
“Nat, what’s up?” I chuckled when she practically barreled into me, stopping half an inch away.
“Lancaster Island.” She pointed toward the storefront window. Cone Crafters was across the street from the water, and through the glass you could see the island with the huge mansion on it. From what I’d heard, it had been vacant for the last twenty or so years. The only way on or off it was by boat, and while I often saw a speedboat come and go, it was likely just a cleaning crew or something.
“What about it?”
She squealed. “Someone is moving in!”
“Really?” Now I was excited. I was so curious about that house. It was never for sale and one day Nat and I had gone digging for info to find it had been in the Lancaster family name for generations. Yet, for as long as I could remember, no one had lived there.
“Yes…a long lost Lancaster, perhaps?” She squeezed my hand, vibrating with happiness.
“That would be so freaking cool.”
A voice cleared, and we both turned. Natalie’s father, the owner of Cone Crafters, was staring at us, one eyebrow raised, obviously trying to hold back a smile.
“Hey, Dad.”
“Hi, Mr. Johnson.”
“You’re being a little loud.”
I scanned the shop. Only Lewis and his grandfather were here, and they weren’t paying us any mind.
“Were we disturbing the air?” I asked with a smirk.
“You’re a smartass, Samuel. If I didn’t love you like my own son, I’d swat you.”
“Sorry, sorry. But did you hear?”
He nodded. “I think the whole town heard the news from my daughter.”
She playfully glared at her father. “You have to admit, it’s cool and mysterious.” She began making ghost noises.
“You both act like you’re still teenagers.” He sighed.
I held up my pointer. “I’m a post teenager.”
His brow crinkled. “You’re twenty-five.”
“Mmhmm…barely out of my teenage years, wouldn’t you say?”
He rolled his eyes and tossed a rag at me. “Get to work, you brat.”
I caught it and as soon as he was out of earshot, I whispered to Natalie, “What do we know?”
“Nothing. You know Kim who works for Chester Real Estate?” I nodded. “I bumped into her when I was picking up dry cleaning, and she told me someone was moving in but it wasn’t sold, that it appears someone from the Lancaster family is likely moving in.”
“She doesn’t know who?”
“Nope.”
“Weird.” I faced the window again, gazing at the island that was far out but not so much that we couldn’t see the monstrosity of a house. “I wonder if Ben knows.” He was our third, and he worked at the library.
Nat snapped her fingers. “Brilliant!”
“I’m off work in an hour; then we can head there and see if he knows what’s going on?”
She tapped the counter and cackled. “Yes!”
An hour and a half later, we were sitting at a table at the library and talking to Ben, who had some information for us.
“Lukas Farren is moving in there. He’s some CEO or owns like a hundred companies. Anyway, he’s the current homeowner.”
Natalie cocked her head. “Not a Lancaster?”
Ben shook his head. “I dug a bit, and it appears the Lancasters married out so much that there is no one who officially has that last name.”
“Do we call it Farren Island now?” I looked from Ben to Nat.
“You can’t just rename a property.” Ben chuckled.
“Do you think he’ll come to shore or skulk in his big mansion away from the common folk?” Natalie asked.
“No idea. I didn’t have time to dig much into Lukas Farren.” He cut the air with his hand. “I’m actually working here.”
“You’re the head librarian. Don’t you have bookworms to do your bidding?” I scoffed.
“Um…that’s not how it works.”
“Okay, but, like, is he moving in with a family? Is he alone?” Natalie was giddy, and I too was eager to know more.
“No idea. I just know this Lukas guy is now the island’s resident. Like I said, I am working, and I have other things to do.”
“Fine, fine. Well, maybe tomorrow we can investigate.” I shrugged. I supposed one day would be okay.
Ben frowned. “Can’t. Emily’s parents are visiting. We’re telling them she’s pregnant.” Upon saying it out loud, his face brightened. Ben was the only one of the three of us who’d gotten married, and now he was going to be a dad. He was good-looking in a nerdy way, which people totally dug. Curly brown hair, bow ties and all that.
“Oh, that’s exciting!” I reached out and squeezed his arm. “No problem. Nat and I will do some detective work and let you know what we find.”
He nodded. “I don’t work Tuesday. Maybe we can meet for lunch and put together everything we have.”
“Plan.” Nat put her hand on the table. I covered hers with mine and we waited for Ben. A beat later, he rolled his eyes and laid his hand on mine. “The power of three,” we all cheered in various tones.
“You’re dorks.” Ben stood, but he smiled. “See you later.”
When he was gone, Nat and I faced each other, and she spoke. “Wanna see if Clark’s taking his fishing boat out tomorrow morning and snag a ride?” That was a brilliant idea.
“Yes!”
We had the beginnings of a plan. It was exciting and mysterious. I had a bucket list, and one thing on there was to solve a mystery. This was totally going to have me scratching that off.
Jordan L HawkJordan L. Hawk is a trans author from North Carolina. Childhood tales of mountain ghosts and mysterious creatures gave him a life-long love of things that go bump in the night. When he isn’t writing, he brews his own beer and tries to keep the cats from destroying the house. His best-selling Whyborne & Griffin series (beginning with Widdershins) can be found in print, ebook, and audiobook.
If you want to contact Jordan, just click on the links below or send an email.
Vanora LawlessVanora Lawless is a bisexual genderfluid Canadian with ADHD and a passion for telling love stories set in magical or niche historical worlds. A graduate of Saint Mary’s University, Vanora has a B.A, majoring in psychology. As a Nova Scotian, loving long walks on the beach is practically a law, so Vanora takes every possible opportunity to explore the best sandy shores. In spare time between crafting new worlds and stories, Vanora can be found behind the lens of a camera or in a blanket burrito with a good book.
Anna Martin is from a picturesque seaside village in the southwest of England and now lives in the Bristol, a city that embraces her love for the arts. After spending most of her childhood making up stories, she studied English literature at university before attempting to turn her hand as a professional writer.
Apart from being physically dependent on her laptop, Anna is enthusiastic about writing and producing local grassroots theater (especially at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, where she can be found every summer), going to visit friends in other countries, and reading anything thatís put under her nose.
Anna claims her entire career is due to the love, support, prereading, and creative ass kicking provided by her best friend Jennifer. Jennifer refuses to accept responsibility for anything Anna has written.
Ava Beringer is a major-league nerd who started off writing fanfiction and fell in love with mpreg and omegaverse. She loves to heat up a slick omega and a knotty alpha. By day she’s a good thirty-something midwestern girl, but she has a dark side. Okay, not really. She’s as bubbly as champagne but she can be pretty darn cheeky when you get her going.
She’s a digital nomad who’s traveled to thirty-five countries and counting. If she’s lucky, a cat will adopt her along the way.
Pick up your FREE SHORT STORIES, hear about her new releases and misadventures here, and tell her about yours! ❤
Davidson King, always had a hope that someday her daydreams would become real-life stories. As a child, you would often find her in her own world, thinking up the most insane situations. It may have taken her awhile, but she made her dream come true with her first published work, Snow Falling.
She managed to wrangle herself a husband who matched her crazy and they hatched three wonderful children.
If you were to ask her what gave her the courage to finally publish, she’d tell you it was her amazing family and friends. Support is vital in all things and when you’re afraid of your dreams, it will be your cheering section that will lift you up.
Jordan L Hawk
Vanora Lawless
Anna Martin
Ava Beringer
Fizz the Season by Anna Martin
The Accidental Christmas Omega by Ava Beringer
