Random Paranormal Tales of 2020 Part 5

The Prince and the Bedeviled Bodyguard by Charlie Cochet

Summary:
Paranormal Prince #1

Prince Owin
Being a fierce predator—not at all adorable, despite my graceful stature—the last thing I needed was a bodyguard. Especially a wolf shifter, whose presence alone was an insult to my princely principles. As Prince of the Ocelot Shifters, I prided myself on my infallible feline instincts, uncompromisable dignity, and flawless fashion sense. If having a canine follow me around at all times wasn’t bad enough, I now faced the most important moment of my entire life. The time had come to prove I was worthy of my crown. If only I could find a way to get rid of the pesky bodyguard.

Grimmwolf
When the King of All Shifters asked me to guard Prince Owin, I admit I had no idea what to expect. Cat shifters tend to be a little intense, not to mention kinda cranky. Owin was no exception, though he seemed crankier than most. Being his bodyguard was proving to be one of the greatest challenges of my life—but not nearly as great as convincing him there was something special between us. When Owin is faced with a perilous quest to prove his worth, I was determined to keep him safe, even if the same couldn’t be said of my heart.

Audiobook Review February 2020:
I really don't think I can say anymore than I did in my original ebook review to the story itself.  Even only a few months since that original read and I still loved the book just as much.  The adrenaline rush I get from reading a book the first time may not have been there having only been a few months but knowing what was coming didn't take away from the awesomeness either.  I still want to whack Owin upside the head a few times and I still marvel at Grimmwolf's knack for positivity considering he's dealing with Owin.  The Prince and His Bedeviled Bodyguard is still simply put: old fashioned fun and that's not an easy thing to do in a shifter tale so I tip my hat to Charlie Cochet's ability for meshing paranormal, romance, and humor.

As for the narration, well Greg Boudreaux just makes the world of Paranormal Princes come alive.  As I said above, I still wanted to whack Owin upside the head and Greg's narration made me feel if I had a frying pan handy I could just reach out and swing😉.   His portrayals may not have exactly matched what was in my head when I originally read the story last fall but honestly I can't imagine anyone doing a better job.

Original ebook Review October 2019:
Charlie Cochet has done it again!  Are there authors who might do the whole scary side of shifter stories better? Sure, but personally I have not a read an author who is better at blending paranormal, romance, AND humor than Cochet.  The Prince and His Bedeviled Bodyguard is an A-Freakin'-Mazing introduction to her new series, Paranormal Princes.  The danger and angsty levels are pretty low but the meshing of paranormal and rom-com is  . . . well . . . heavenly, I can't think of a better word other than perhaps old fashion fun!

Owin and Grimmwolf are about as mismatched as you can get: a spoiled prince cat shifter and a dedicated but carefree bodyguard wolf and yet you know where the pair will end up(and that's not a spoiler because this story is about the journey getting there not the destination😉).  Knowing where they'll end up doesn't make you not want to whack Owin upside the head a time or two though or better yet throw a bucket of water on him(we all know how much cats hate getting wet despite how much time they spend cleaning themselves😉).  How Grimmwolf can be so positive and smiley when he's around Owin all the time is beyond me, I guess he's better than I.  Are they enemies? No but I certainly wouldn't call them friends in the beginning, at least from Owin's viewpoint.  Watching them together is magical though and for a story that made me laugh so much I just couldn't put it down any more than I could a heart-pounding nailbiter, that's how addictive this pair is and I look forward to seeing more of the Paranormal Princes and what makes them all tick.

As I stated above The Prince and His Bedeviled Bodyguard is a beautifully scripted paranormal rom-com, okay you might not find it on the Hallmark channel but if it was I can promise you I would be watching the channel a lot more.  Humor isn't exactly the first thing that comes to mind when talking paranormal shifter stories but it definitely fits here.  Shifting, romance, fantasy, humor, fairytale, friendship - it's all here making this gem an all around heartwarming fun experience.

RATING:

The Beast of Bodmin Moor by Zakarrie C

Summary:
Can one man's battle to be himself win another's war with himself?

Two years ago Jake McCain encountered a compelling stranger at the Glastonbury festival. Two days later his life, as he knew it, was over. Enter Jack. They have…cohabited ever since. Much to Jack’s despair, Jake has remained dogged in his bid to be the most bloody-minded human a jackal ever had the misfortune to manage.

Phin Finley has embarked on a magical mystery campervan tour of Cornwall. Free to potter about, doing as he pleases for the first time, he wants to prove he can do just fine without having a fatal mishap. Or causing one. Or losing his trusty bicycle clips. Even if he is a tad too…Phinish for most folk’s comfort, his mum’s peace of mind and dad’s constitution.

Theirs is a tale about finding your (happy) place in the world, making (foxy) friends, and the much fabled Beast of Bodmin Moor. 

Lost & Found by FR D'Angelo

Summary:
The Aztec Alphas #4

Catch up with The Aztec pack, as four traitors are found Azkin offers a compromise in order to save the packs Omegas, will the traitors take him up on it or will they run?

Aztec Warriors Angel and Brad are not happy to sit this one out, in order to keep many omegas safe, they agree.  Many first rescue omegas are now much stronger and have been training with Warrior omega Scotty in secret.

The omegas want equality and too fully train with the main Aztec protectors and warriors, the only way to allow that is to go head to head in war games with the Aztec protectors, as mate is pitied against mate will the omegas back down?

The pack is attacked from all sides by a force of Theta wolves, attempting to steal pregnant omegas, Azkin puts a kill order on those who dare come onto Aztec pack lands.

Stragglers from packs across the United States start to arrive in a pitiful condition, Azkin turns to the Ancestors for guidance.

As the prophecy looks like it will unravel, The Warriors need to prepare to enter the Callum Medical Facility to bring home Joe’s mate, Adam, though surprise awaits Joe inside the facility.

Follow the Aztec pack, as each new rescue brings heartache, pain, and hope. More twists and turns as some loopholes are closed and others are opening up.

When I First Saw Red by Kasia Bacon

Summary:
Soldiers and Mercenaries #2

RED:
Lázhien’s human. A common Imperial soldier. And my soulmate.How could fate get it so wrong?The demonin mecraves this bond with every shred of his being. He pushes me to accept it. This time I won’t yieldto his demands.

LÁZHIEN:
Red’s a lust demon, a whore and a stuck-upsnob.The most beautiful man I’ve ever seen. Pain in the arse. And he hates my guts.I’d be an idiot to pursue him. Yet something about him compels me to make him mine.

When I First Saw Redis a complete and standalone short novel with an HEA ending, featuring a couple of reluctant fated soulmates—a demon and a human—trying and failing to defy destiny.

Run Free by Colette Davison

Summary:
They believe they only need each other, until they collide with their soul mate.

Jax is an omega, Hugo is human, and their love is forbidden. They’ve spent the last seven years on the streets, relying on no one but each other.

When they collide with Dominic, they realise something has always been missing. Jax is keen to get to know the alpha, but Hugo resists the mate-call, worrying that, as a human, there will be no room for him.

The only way they can be free to love each other is to escape the UK, but will Dominic leave his life behind to find home with two younger men?

Run Free is an alternate universe MMM shifter novel, with fated mates, mpreg, an age-gap relationship, and a happy ending.

Click to Check Out Previous

Random Paranormal Tales of 2020

Part 1  /  Part 2  /  Part 3  /  Part 4

Part 6  /  Part 7  /  Part 8  /  Part 9

Part 10  /  Part 11  /  Part 12

The Prince and the Bedeviled Bodyguard by Charlie Cochrane

“What the—” Grimm dropped the orb, and we both jumped back. To my utter disbelief, it spread upward and sideways until it was roughly the size of a large doorway, a forest appearing inside. “Hmm. What do you know? A portal that will take us where we want to go.”

How cross would the king be with me if I accidentally pushed Grimm off a cliff? Or left him with the Cù Sìth? Not like he didn’t have plenty of wolf shifters. What was one less in the grand scheme of things?

Grimm narrowed his eyes at me. “You’re not leaving me behind.”

How did he do that? “Are you sure you’re not a seer wolf?”

Grimm didn’t look impressed. “You’re right. I’m a seer. My curse is that I’m limited to visions of you being a jerk.”

I opened my mouth to respond, then thought better of it. “Can we just go?”

“As you wish, Your Highness.” He bowed and motioned for me to go ahead. Clearly, he thought I was an idiot.

“What if it’s a trap and I step through and burst into flames? You go first.”

“Your generosity knows no bounds, my liege. Fine. I’ll go first, but if I meet my demise, my blood is on your hands.”

I shrugged. “I’ll get over it.”

“So mean.” He shook his head at me and stepped through. On the other side, he turned and held his arms out. “See? All good. Wait….” He gasped and clutched at his chest. “What’s happening to me? It burns!”

“Grimm?” My heart lurched in my chest, and I stepped up to the portal.

“I can’t,” he gasped, falling to his knees. “I can’t….”

“Can’t what!” Oh my Goddess, oh my Goddess. I never expected him to actually burst into flames! I flailed around feeling utterly helpless. “What do I do? Is it flames? Are you bursting into flames?” I frantically looked around. “I don’t see a fire extinguisher!” Not that I knew how to use one. I’d just have to toss it at him and hope he could do it himself.

“I can’t….” He gasped for breath. “I can’t… believe you fell for that,” he said with a laugh.

“I’m going to kill you!” I darted into the portal, ignoring his laughter as he took off, his long legs putting him out of my reach in a heartbeat. “I hate you!”

“Admit it! You were worried about me,” he called out from across the field.

“Worried you’d die and I wouldn’t be able to pry the magic purse off your cold, dead, dog-smelling corpse!”

“It’s a satchel!”

The Beast of Bodmin Moor by Zakarrie C

Phin sat atop a craggy crumble of rock, content as can be in his happy place. His very own sliver of heaven. A sacred spot where the twenty-first century had quite forgotten to do charging in like the cavalry, hell-bent on rescuing it from perfection.

Here, Phin could breathe; alone in his tumbledown haven, but never lonely. Loneliness was feeling alone in a room full of people. Phin had never been comfy in company, it was tricky to do concentrating on seeming ‘normal’ to more than one person at a time amidst the siege of too much. Too loud, too bright, too many colours clashing in a cacophony of sound; as if all his senses had been bunged in the washer and switched to spin-cycle.

All this was so befuddling, Phin found it impossible to do believing big fat fibs on top. They made him too scratchy. He liked facts. Letting his mind waft off to ponder fascinating things stopped Phin from fretting about people. Instead, he was supposed to do paying attention to pretend feelings—to make folk seem kind—when they weren’t. This was not Phin's best thing. It was an important skill called being sociable.

Phin hated feeling like a fraud. Everyone seemed to do concentrating on things he couldn’t care less about; the impression they made on others, how they were ‘seen’. A concern that had nothing to do with donning orange jumpers, which would've been an understandable worry. Phin wouldn’t be seen dead in such a detestable colour. That was an idiom, not a fact, as it didn’t make sense in the scheme of things. He would be dead, and ergo, unable to see. Let alone be in any fit state to insist that his corpse wasn't desecrated by a despicable sweater.

Nope, Phin was uncomfy in human company, but he did adore animals. He could do trusting them—even predators—they were honest. They never did acting kind before biting your head off. He loved that the animals dotted across the moor were allowed to do roaming fairly free. The cows often pottered across the road and parked up when they fancied a rest or a gaze-about. They didn’t give a stuff, just stood there, staring over their shoulders with mild disinterest if a queue of cars did honking at them. For all the world as if that might persuade them to do shifting their furry butts.

An animal’s love was unconditional. They never, ever, made you feel not good enough. Or aware that you’d let them down when you couldn’t help but be yourself. Phin had known this forever, but the older he got and the more of his dad's dreams he dashed, the clearer it became. Polarising his family with Phin stuck in the middle like an equatorial embarrassment. His poor mum and elder sister loved him despite himself and defended Phin with lioness finesse. Then did suffering the consequences of dooming his dad to a son who would never do him proud. This while subjecting him to social humiliation horrors that made his younger sister’s hair curl. Her intrepid efforts with an evil contraption that made her smell like a singed cat couldn't compete with Phin. Apparently.

Lost & Found by FR D'Angelo

Azkin closed his eyes. He imagined he was looking at the red wolf in shifter form. Calling on all his strength as an Aztec shifter, in his mind’s eye, he projected to Zain so he could also see the very skinny young shifter, around twenty-one years with shocking red hair, very pregnant, and very much alone.

Zain knelt, placed his hand on the wolf’s foreleg, and whispered, “Shift. We know you’re pregnant. We won’t hurt you, but you’re going to harm your cub if you don’t.”

This seemed to kickstart the wolf’s self-preservation, and he shifted. Then, he scurried along on his ass toward the wall, trying to make himself appear small.

“Zain heal him. I’ll hold his arm. Please, before he goes into shock and we lose him.” Zain leaned forward as the smaller, almost feral shifter, growled at him.

“Alpha Zain is going to do a healing on your cub now. And then, we are taking you back to the Aztec pack lands.”

The shifter gasped and settled instantly. Something shifted behind his eyes, and he sighed.

Forcing all the Alpha pheromones, Alpha energy, and calming pheromones Zain could to the smaller shifter, Zain started the healing. From the color of the healing, they knew he was a feral omega from a lab. They needed this young one alive. Even just to birth his cub.

Feral wolves were wolves that had been in shift more than three months. This young one had been in shifter form a lot longer than that.

As Zain started to heal him, he could see his cub, hanging on to a need to survive, a tiny white wolf.

Tears prickled on Zain’s face. Healing with cubs involved brought this reaction from Zain, and each time Azkin witnessed empathy in his mate, it brought him joy.

When I First Saw Red by Kasia Bacon

A raucous ripple of laughter rang out from the wooden gallery above us, where the more pricey whores kept lodging and conducted their business. Following the source of the commotion, I looked up.

Two men and a woman had just come out of a room on the mezzanine floor. Judging by the way the joke had them all in stitches, it must’ve been top-notch.

The highborn couple, dressed in layers of greys and silvers as the latest fashion dictated, stood in contrast with the shirtless and barefoot whore. He sported only a pair of low-slung, undone breeches, offering the world a generous glimpse of his hips and groin.

I couldn’t make out their words, but I recognised that the merry gathering held a conversation in Common Elven. It didn’t surprise me. For one, it had been the language of the nobles and courtiers since the Emperor had taken the throne thirty-odd years before.

Secondly, the whore was a half-breed Elf.

A closer glance at him and my mouth went dry.

My shaft hardened as I drank in the sight of him— his lean figure, luminous skin and angular eyes. The pointy tips of his ears poked through a cascade of red hair. Not copper, ginger or auburn. Not mahogany. But blood red. Intricate tattoos on the sides of his face announced his Incubus heritage. Obsolete Imperial law still called for the marking of Tii-Matâshi, even though their Magic had declined through the centuries, shrinking their power to a fraction of that possessed by their demonic forefathers.

The redhead’s companions waved their farewells and made for the stairs. He leant over the railing in a nonchalant pose, his sculptured arms folded on top of the barrier. There was a note of arrogance in the way he examined the crowd below and shamelessly displayed his ethereal beauty.

It took a moment, but eventually his gaze fell upon me. At first, he seemed to stare through me. Then he measured me up, blatant and hostile somehow, as though ascertaining my worth, leering at me in a downright insolent manner.

I couldn’t look away, turned-on and irate at the same time. Insane as it might have been, I felt the physical touch of fingers running over my body. The sensation set my flesh on fire.

Perhaps the stories told about the Tii-Matâshi held a grain of truth.

Next thing I knew, his mouth set into a condescending smirk. He averted his eyes and pivoted on his heel. Before he disappeared, I observed his lush hair swish to the side and cover his shoulders and back like a fiery silk cloak.

The slam of his door felt very much like a slap to my face. I flinched.

Run Free by Colette Davison

As they rounded a corner, Jax collided with a muscular guy in a smart suit. The hairs on the back of Hugo’s arms stood up as a pulse of electricity swept through him. He grabbed Jax’s arm, steadying him so he didn’t fall.

“We’ve got to go,” he hissed, tugging his lover’s arm.

Jax didn’t move. He was staring at the man in the suit, breathing harshly. The shopkeeper’s yells were getting closer, yet Hugo couldn’t resist glancing at the man they’d bumped into. He found himself noticing every tiny detail in a matter of seconds. The guy was gorgeous, with dark hair that had been cut into a short, neat style and grey eyes with a dark brown ring around the pupil. His cheekbones were sharp and pronounced, and he had a couple days’ worth of stubble. He smelt of rainy days and damp moss. Hugo’s stare tracked to the man’s neck, where he saw the rice grain-sized bump of a chip beneath his skin. He was a shifter. Judging by the man’s size and the way Jax was quivering, he had to be an alpha. Hugo felt like he was being pulled towards the man, which was a dangerous sensation, considering how close the shopkeeper’s shouts sounded.

“We’ve got to go,” Hugo insisted, tugging Jax harder. They couldn’t get caught.

“Go,” the alpha said.

His voice was deep and velvety, the kind of voice you could listen to all day and not get bored of. It was a voice Hugo could happily get wrapped up in. Damn, why was he thinking that way, and why was his skin tingling in the alpha’s presence?

He shook himself.

“Run,” the man told them in a commanding growl, stepping aside so he was no longer blocking the path.

Jax pushed him forward, and suddenly, they were running again. Hugo felt a sickening wrench in his stomach, which made him falter, but he quickly found his feet again. Nothing mattered but getting as far away from the shopkeeper as possible.

Charlie Cochet

Charlie Cochet is the international bestselling author of the THIRDS series. Born in Cuba and raised in the US, Charlie enjoys the best of both worlds, from her daily Cuban latte to her passion for classic rock.

Currently residing in Central Florida, Charlie is at the beck and call of a rascally Doxiepoo bent on world domination. When she isn’t writing, she can usually be found devouring a book, releasing her creativity through art, or binge watching a new TV series. She runs on coffee, thrives on music, and loves to hear from readers.

Zakarrie C

When Zakarrie was little and dreamed big, she wanted to be a writer. Just like Enid Blyton. Or p'raps not...as it seems she has been most remiss on the lashings of ginger beer front. A scandal she attributes to her scoundrels, who apparently proved partial to far more potent brews...

After moving to London at eighteen and flitting about doing not a very lot of note for far too long, she finally settled, as blissy as can be, by the sea. When her castaway dreams resurfaced, they were believed into being by the warm words of friends who breathed life into her own. Her one wish now is that someone, somewhere, might enjoy the misadventures of her miscreants as much as she adores writing them.

FR D'Angelo

I live in Northern Ireland. Mom to two kids, totally crazy goings on in our house so it's not surprising I write gay romance, paranormal shifters. Archangels and angels.

I love to channel the characters who waltz into my mind, they refuse to leave until I write their story.
The magic of the spirit/other world is in the books I write. I am a Spiritual and Psychic medium, and we all need a little magic in our lives. I am a spiritual teacher I walk many roads.

I am often found with my head a book, or earphones on as I listen to a book, or I am writing.
The biggest challenge so far has been the dyslexia. I have a set routine, and many people do not run on the same timeline as me, it's been frustrating. Though lots of coffee seems to help, the animals in my life ground me.

My passion lies with the paranormal of our world, as well as a love of Sci-fi.

I have a rescued cat Theodore, the rescue advertised looking for homes for black cats no one wanted them. I also am mom to three Boxers, Dante, Khaleesi, and Sorcha. And nanny to my daughters two dogs, boxer Aria litter sister to Khaleesi, and brother Dante. Also a little mongrel Riley.

I love showing dogs this takes me out of my head and away from the computer, it brings out the competitive in me. It also helps me hone the vision of boxers for the future helping to promote the breed.

This gives me something to do outside of sitting in front of the PC, Training the dogs in protection as well as the showring. I am looking forward to 2020 in the showring, and 2020 for personal writing goals.

Kasia Bacon

A linguist and an avid reader with a particular fondness for fantasy and paranormal genres, KASIA BACON lives in London with her husband. When not tearing her hair out over a translating project, she writes stories about the shenanigans of emotionally constipated assassins and sexy Elves. Otherwise, she can be found shaking her loins at a Zumba class, binging on anime or admiring throwing knives on Pinterest. A lover of MMA and Muay Thai, she also enjoys nature and the great outdoors. She dreams of becoming independently wealthy, leaving the city and moving into her wooden mini-manor—located in the heart of stunning forests resembling those of the Elven Country depicted in her tales.

For excerpts, free stories and updates about new projects, sign up for Kasia’s newsletter.

To access exclusive Order Universe content, join Bacon & Elves on Facebook.

Colette Davison

Colette’s personal love story began at university, where she met her future husband. An evening of flirting, in the shadow of Lancaster castle, eventually led to a fairytale wedding. She’s enjoying her own ‘happy ever after’ in the north of England with her husband, two beautiful children and her writing.

Charlie Cochet

FACEBOOK  /  TWITTER  /  WEBSITE

NEWSLETTER  /  PINTEREST  /  KOBO

FB FRIEND  /  AUDIBLE  /  iTUNES  /  B&N

FB THIRDS GROUP  /  GOOGLE PLAY

BOOKBUB  /  INSTAGRAM  /  AMAZON

DREAMSPINNER  /  GOODREADS

EMAIL: charlie@charliecochet.com 

Greg Boudreaux(Narrator)

FACEBOOK  /  TWITTER  /  WEBSITE

AUDIBLE  /  AMAZON  /  GOODREADS

Zakarrie C

FACEBOOK  /  TWITTER  /  WEBSITE

PINTEREST  /  QUEEROMANCE INK

SMASHWORDS  /  GOODREADS

MLR BOOKS  /  AMAZON  /  GR Zakarrie C 

FR D'Angelo

FACEBOOK  /  TWITTER  /  WEBSITE

QUEEROMANCE INK  /  PINTEREST

INSTAGRAM  /  AMAZON  /  GOODREADS

EMAIL: frdangelo47@gmail.com 

Kasia Bacon

FACEBOOK  /  TWITTER  /  WEBSITE

NEWSLETTER  /  PINTEREST  /  BOOKBUB

INSTAGRAM  /  FB FRIEND  /  FB GROUP

AUDIBLE  /  AMAZON  /  GOODREADS 

Colette Davison

FACEBOOK  /  TWITTER  /  WEBSITE

NEWSLETTER  /  INSTAGRAM

FB FRIEND  /  FB GROUP  /  BOOKBUB

AUDIBLE  /  AMAZON  /  GOODREADS 

The Prince and the Bedeviled Bodyguard by Charlie Cochet

AMAZON US  /  AMAZON UK

AUDIBLE  /  GOODREADS TBR

The Beast of Bodmin Moor by Zakarrie C

AMAZON US  /  AMAZON UK  /  GOODREADS TBR

Lost & Found by FR D'Angelo

AMAZON US  /  AMAZON UK  /  GOODREADS TBR

When I First Saw Red by Kasia Bacon

AMAZON US  /  AMAZON UK  /  GOODREADS TBR

Run Free by Colette Davison

AMAZON US  /  AMAZON UK  /  GOODREADS

Release Blitz: The Beast of Bodmin Moor by Zakarrie C

 Title: The Beast of Bodmin Moor

Author: Zakarrie C

Genre: M/M Romance, Paranormal, Supernatural

Release Date: April 8, 2020

⏳💸⏰FREE 4/12 - 4/16⏰💸⏳

Summary:
Can one man's battle to be himself win another's war with himself?

Two years ago Jake McCain encountered a compelling stranger at the Glastonbury festival. Two days later his life, as he knew it, was over. Enter Jack. They have…cohabited ever since. Much to Jack’s despair, Jake has remained dogged in his bid to be the most bloody-minded human a jackal ever had the misfortune to manage.

Phin Finley has embarked on a magical mystery campervan tour of Cornwall. Free to potter about, doing as he pleases for the first time, he wants to prove he can do just fine without having a fatal mishap. Or causing one. Or losing his trusty bicycle clips. Even if he is a tad too…Phinish for most folk’s comfort, his mum’s peace of mind and dad’s constitution.

Theirs is a tale about finding your (happy) place in the world, making (foxy) friends, and the much fabled Beast of Bodmin Moor. 

Phin sat atop a craggy crumble of rock, content as can be in his happy place. His very own sliver of heaven. A sacred spot where the twenty-first century had quite forgotten to do charging in like the cavalry, hell-bent on rescuing it from perfection.

Here, Phin could breathe; alone in his tumbledown haven, but never lonely. Loneliness was feeling alone in a room full of people. Phin had never been comfy in company, it was tricky to do concentrating on seeming ‘normal’ to more than one person at a time amidst the siege of too much. Too loud, too bright, too many colours clashing in a cacophony of sound; as if all his senses had been bunged in the washer and switched to spin-cycle.

All this was so befuddling, Phin found it impossible to do believing big fat fibs on top. They made him too scratchy. He liked facts. Letting his mind waft off to ponder fascinating things stopped Phin from fretting about people. Instead, he was supposed to do paying attention to pretend feelings—to make folk seem kind—when they weren’t. This was not Phin's best thing. It was an important skill called being sociable.

Phin hated feeling like a fraud. Everyone seemed to do concentrating on things he couldn’t care less about; the impression they made on others, how they were ‘seen’. A concern that had nothing to do with donning orange jumpers, which would've been an understandable worry. Phin wouldn’t be seen dead in such a detestable colour. That was an idiom, not a fact, as it didn’t make sense in the scheme of things. He would be dead, and ergo, unable to see. Let alone be in any fit state to insist that his corpse wasn't desecrated by a despicable sweater.

Nope, Phin was uncomfy in human company, but he did adore animals. He could do trusting them—even predators—they were honest. They never did acting kind before biting your head off. He loved that the animals dotted across the moor were allowed to do roaming fairly free. The cows often pottered across the road and parked up when they fancied a rest or a gaze-about. They didn’t give a stuff, just stood there, staring over their shoulders with mild disinterest if a queue of cars did honking at them. For all the world as if that might persuade them to do shifting their furry butts.

An animal’s love was unconditional. They never, ever, made you feel not good enough. Or aware that you’d let them down when you couldn’t help but be yourself. Phin had known this forever, but the older he got and the more of his dad's dreams he dashed, the clearer it became. Polarising his family with Phin stuck in the middle like an equatorial embarrassment. His poor mum and elder sister loved him despite himself and defended Phin with lioness finesse. Then did suffering the consequences of dooming his dad to a son who would never do him proud. This while subjecting him to social humiliation horrors that made his younger sister’s hair curl. Her intrepid efforts with an evil contraption that made her smell like a singed cat couldn't compete with Phin. Apparently.

Author Bio:
When asked what she'd most like to tell her younger writing self, Zakarrie plumped for two snippets of wisdom:

• Those dreams that feel too daft to ever believe into being? Hug them to your heart and keep them safe. Someday, somewhere over the rainbow, you might wake up to one so impossible, you'll suspect you made it up yourself.
• You are never going to be the next Enid Blyton. Oddly 'nuff.

FACEBOOK  /  TWITTER  /  WEBSITE

PINTEREST  /  QUEEROMANCE INK

SMASHWORDS  /  GOODREADS

MLR BOOKS  /  AMAZON  /  GR Zakarrie C

⏳💸⏰FREE 4/12 - 4/16⏰💸⏳

AMAZON US  /  AMAZON UK  /  GOODREADS TBR

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Brought to you by:

Release Blitz: The Duke & The Dandy Highwayman Trilogy by Zakarrie C

Title: The Duke & The Dandy Highwayman Trilogy

Author: Zakarrie C

Series: Duke & Dandy #1-3

Genre: Historical, M/M Romance, Regency, Humor

Release Date: May 6, 2019

⏳💸⏰FREE 5/6 - 5/10⏰💸⏳

Summary:
‘The Most High, Noble and Potent Prince, His Grace Padraic, Duke of Waterford.’

After enduring the Ducal Grand Entrance, one might be forgiven for thinking that an evening could only improve. One would be wrong. Padraic was then duty bound to find an amiable miss to romance and dance attendance upon. In truth, the Duke was rather more partial to establishments that promised charms he would ne’er find in the arms of a Lady. Such dalliances did add a dash of decadence to his life of ducal drudgery, but time was tick-tocking and a blue-stocking bride must be wooed, and wed…

Raff of the Rookeries. The most afeared rake-hell to have haunted the highways since Darkin denied them the pleasure at the gallows...by stepping off the ladder before they could whip it from under his feet. Raff had fought his way up to rule the roost with instincts as razor-sharp as his dirk. His sword skills, fists, and wily wits had stood him in good stead, but none had proved as invaluable as the weapon he’d ne’er needed to tend. His fury. A rage every bit as lethal as arsenic—deadlier than brawn, brains, or bravado—Raphael had carried it like a toxic plague. Until, he became Raff of the Rookeries. Unleashed upon the underworld, it was the most formidable foe in London. Two men from two different worlds…a mere few miles apart. That is, until the fateful night when The Duke was halted in his tracks by a very Dandy Highwayman…

Mayhaps twenty minutes later, the air turned decidedly rank; a stench that came accompanied by random street sounds and the odd drunken shout. They were, beyond any shadow o’doubt, heading for some godforsaken part of town. A logical assumption, further embellished by the aroma of decaying cabbage and other, far less salubrious odors.

If the Devil himself intended to demoralize the poor, he could not find a means more agreeable to his plans, than the London slums.

“Nearly there, Yer Grace,” The scoundrel called over his shoulder as they slowed to a trot.

“Where is ‘there’?” Padraic dared to wonder.

“My humble abode. It’s where you’ll be staying awhile; leastways until someone coughs up for yer safe return.” The highwayman’s voice sounded harsher, colder while imparting this, as if his words were poisoned by the rancid air as they fell from his lips.

“Whereabouts are we?” Padraic asked, curious as to whether his rogue would answer.

“The Strand.”

It was as he’d expected. They were in the warren of narrow, filthy streets and alleyways in the densely populated slums. Home to one of London’s most notorious Rookeries. An utterly lawless labyrinth of squalid living, gin dens, bawdy houses, and brothels. Popular legend told of a traveller who had entered Portugal Street on his way to The Strand and never emerged. His ghost was, apparently, still searching for a way back to civilization. Padraic would just have to hope to fare rather better than he.

The Duke had e’er been horrified that people were forced to live this way, right under the refined noses of the ton. Poles apart, but virtually overlapping in proximity. Padraic had poured thousands into funding an orphanage and school for foundlings, when he came into his inheritance. He visited them oft, choosing the staff himself to ensure that no child was ill-treated, but there was only so much he could do. With all the will in the world, there wasn’t a great deal to be done, as long as those in power turned a blind eye to the suffering of others.

“Whoa…” When Demon clattered to a halt on the cobblestones, the Duke reluctantly relinquished his grip about his captor’s person. The scoundrel shifted in the saddle and with one sharp tug, the kerchief was gone, alongside a fair few strands of hair that were tangled into its knot. The Duke scarce felt the sting as his hungry gaze guzzled the sight it had been denied for the duration of the ride. ’Twas with a devilish wink that the highwayman threw a leg over the horse’s head, before lightly dismounting.

“Billy, m’lad!” He hailed a youth seated on the front steps of a large dilapidated townhouse, holding a lantern aloft. An endearing grin lit up his grimy face as he sprang to his feet.

“Yer all right, Raff?” he chirped, in very genuine cockney tones.

“Too right I am. We ’ave ourselves a guest m’friend. Yer Grace, this is Billy—he ain’t got another name—so I can’t tell yer that. Billy, this ’ere is His Grace, The Duke of Waterford, so yer better mind your p’s ’n’ q’s, like I taught yer.”

“Hello Billy, it’s a pleasure to meet you,” Padriac greeted him.

“Lawks! I can’t fink why, Yer…Grace?” Billy glanced at the man he’d called Raff, seeking reassurance for his form of address, and received an approving nod.

“I can’t think why ’twould not be.” Padraic smiled. Billy looked puzzled for a moment—as if trying to make sense of something he’d patently understood—then just beamed instead and reached for Demon’s halter.

“See that he’s rubbed down and well-fed, won’t you, Billy? I need to get our guest settled in.”

“Righto. C’mon Demon, let’s be ’avin yer, there’s oats awaiting and some fresh hay.”

“After you, Yer Grace…” The rascal sketched a bow, waving his hand with a flourish as he bent extravagantly low, before straightening up to push open the front door. It was painted black; blistered, peeling and desperately in need of a fresh coat. A large, dimly lit hallway lay beyond it, with a wide staircase ascending on the left.

“Raff! I’d almost given up ’ope on ya. Thought you’d gone a-whoring,” announced a stocky, bow-legged man, with close-cropped hair and forearms like lamb shanks. His broad grin revealed several missing teeth, the remaining ones having seen better days. Several decades ago.

Despite having tugged his kerchief down when they entered, Padraic was still unable to drink his fill of Raff’s face, for much of it was cast into shadow and the rest, obscured by a tangled fall of hair.

“Not tonight Bluff, I was off procuring us a guest,” he smirked.

“Crikey, you’ve nabbed a right nob. Who the ’ell is he?”

“This ’ere’s The Duke of Waterford.” Raff declared, inclining his head with divine insolence.

“Lawks! A Duke? Couldn’t yer find a Prince ’anging about then?” Bluff gaped.

“’Fraid not, we’ll just ’ave to slum it…” Raff tutted, with a fulsome sigh.

“I hope yer don’t expect me t’curtsy. I ain’t got the legs for it.”

“You ain’t got the legs for owt except sitting on ’orseback,” Raff retorted, about a breath before his tone darkened to a deadly rasp. “Bluff. See to it that no one. But no one. Lays a finger on him.” He added nary a dire threat, nor had he raised his voice. Raff had, in fact, lowered it to a lethal lash of sound that sliced the air like a whip—but it was the glint of green he levelled at Bluff that made the man swallow visibly while nodding several times.

“Will do, Raff. He’ll fetch a pretty price, won’t he?”

“Too bloody right, he will. I’ll have to keep him up top with me—Duke he might be—but he ain’t above being too ripe and ready by ’alf.”

“A dark ’orse is he? I ain’t at all surprised, now you mention it. Beggin’ yer pardon, Yer Dukeness. Right, I’ll just wait for Billy an’ lock up then.”

“Thanks, Bluff. ’Night.”

“’Night Raff…’night yer Dukeness.” Bluff doffed an imaginary cap at Padraic, who inclined his head with ducal gravity, so as not to disappoint him. The amiable miscreant was chuckling away to himself as he took his leave of them, before disappearing through a door further down the hallway.

“Right then, Yer Grace, up yer go. Right to the top,” Raff instructed, gesturing towards the staircase with a regal sweep of his hand.

“Are you locking me in the attic?” Padraic asked, as he clasped the bannister.

“I am, indeed. Yer can’t get up to any mischief up there.”

The Duke thought it might be wise to hold his tongue and make his way upstairs, afore the scoundrel decided to shove him in the coal cellar instead. Padraic’s brain was abuzz with demon steeds, daft monikers, and bandy-legged blackguards. A boy with only one name and a heart of gold.

Author Bio:
After moving to London at eighteen and flitting about for far too long, Zakarrie settled, as blissy as can be, by the sea. ’Twas here that her castaway dreams resurfaced and she began to write; stories that are, in truth, better at being her than she's ever been. Her one hope now is that someone, somewhere, will enjoy the misadventures of her miscreants as much as she loves writing them.

FACEBOOK  /  TWITTER  /  WEBSITE

PINTEREST  /  QUEEROMANCE INK

SMASHWORDS  /  GR Zakarrie C

MLR BOOKS  /  AMAZON  /  GOODREADS 

Trilogy

⏳💸⏰FREE 5/6 - 5/10⏰💸⏳
AMAZON US  /  AMAZON UK  /  GOODREADS TBR

Series #1-3

AMAZON US  /  AMAZON UK  /  GOODREADS TBR

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Brought to you by: