Saturday, October 27, 2018

Saturday's Series Spotlight: Kings of Hell MC by KA Merikan Part 1


Laurent & the Beast #1
Summary:
Nothing can stop true love. Not time. Not even the devil himself.

1805. Laurent. Indentured servant. Desperate to escape a life that is falling apart.

2017. Beast. Kings of Hell Motorcycle Club vice president. His fists do the talking.

Beast has been disfigured in a fire, but he’s covered his skin with tattoos to make sure no one mistakes his scars for weakness. The accident not only hurt his body, but damaged his soul and self-esteem, so he’s wrapped himself in a tight cocoon of violence and mayhem where no one can reach him.

Until one night, when he finds a young man covered in blood in their clubhouse. Sweet, innocent, and as beautiful as an angel fallen from heaven, Laurent pulls on all of Beast’s heartstrings. Laurent is so lost in the world around him, and is such a tangled mystery, that Beast can’t help but let the man claw his way into the stone that is Beast’s heart.

In 1805, Laurent has no family, no means, and his eyesight is failing. To escape a life of poverty, he uses his beauty, but that only backfires and leads him to a catastrophe that changes his life forever. He takes one step into the abyss and is transported to the future, ready to fight for a life worth living.

What he doesn’t expect in his way is a brutal, gruff wall of tattooed muscle with a tender side that only Laurent is allowed to touch. And yet, if Laurent ever wants to earn his freedom, he might have to tear out the heart of the very man who took care of him when it mattered most.

My Dark Knight #2
Summary:
Love or hate. Life or death. No inbetween. No compromise. No rules in love and war.

Knight. Party monster. Handsome Savage. Doesn’t do monogamy.

Elliot. Obsessive. Intense. Uncompromising.

Newly single, Knight is done with relationships. All he's interested in is bringing down The Count, an Internet personality who is tarnishing his family name. An opportunity to crush him comes when the audacious clown shows up at the Kings of Hell MC clubhouse to film for his YouTube channel. But when Knight meets Elliot, the man behind The Count, he no longer knows what to do with him.

Knight has never seen a more pathetic creature than Elliot. He’s also never met anyone who needed him more. Skinny, messed up, and a bucket of trouble as thick as tar, everything Elliot does seems to be a wordless death wish. No matter how much Knight hates Elliot’s alter ego, under the makeup and theatrics hides a fragile young guy with a passion for history, and Knight can’t help but catch Elliot every time he falls.

Elliot has bad taste in men. Always hopelessly attracted to violent brutes, his favorite is a long dead serial killer. But he gets more than he’s bargained for when he seizes an opportunity to meet the man of his dreams. The ghost is manipulative and dangerous, offering Elliot all he’s always wanted, for a price he can’t possibly pay.

Elliot is faced with an impossible choice between two men.

One alive, one dead.

One carnal and honest, one drizzling sweet, poisoned promises into his ear.

One unwilling to commit, the other promising an eternity together.

And Elliot doesn’t settle for half-measures. He craves a love that is all or nothing, passion that will consume him, and desire to burn him alive.

Elliot is ready to either get that, or die trying.

Themes: enemies to lovers, protector, cruelty, motorcycle club, alternative lifestyles, demons, tattoos, impossible choices, deception, crime, self-discovery, healing, black magic, gothic, commitment, ghosts, possession


On Your Knees, Prospect #3
Summary:
--- There is freedom in blacking boots for the right man. ---

Jake. Kings of Hell MC Prospect. Obedient. Desperate for approval.
Vars. Dominant. Stern. Undead.

Jake is itching to become a patched member of the Kings of Hell MC.
For two years he's toiled as the only prospect. So when a new guy swans in and thinks he'll get a patch in no time just because he's got friends in high places, Jake is there to stand in his way.

Only that the guy is older, more experienced, drives a Harley, and has the kind of boots Jake craves to lick.

But he won't.

Because he only fucks patches.

Vars is ready to find a new home in the Kings of Hell MC after a messy relationship led him straight to hell. In comparison, the pretty, blue-eyed prospect could be just the pleasant rebound he needs.

The boy is a brat, but that could be amended with a firm hand and a gag.
If only Jake was ready to admit to his submissive needs, Vars would gladly take him under his wing.

That is, until he finds out something inhuman resides inside of Jake.
Vars didn’t cheat death only to call out to it again.

But stuck together in one room, keeping each other’s secrets, they might just have to become allies, no matter how unwilling. Because if there is something Vars can’t resist, it’s a boy with pleading eyes.

“You are mine now, boy. This room is soundproof. No one will hear you scream.”

“Yes, sir. My body is yours.”

WARNING: This story contains scenes of violence, offensive language, and morally ambiguous characters.


Laurent & the Beast #1
Original Review May 2017
Paranormal, romance, motorcycle club, what's not to love?  Laurent and the Beast is an amazing tale with a little bit of everything.  I will say that I debated on appropriate tags, should I use paranormal, supernatural, or science fiction?  Despite there being a science fiction element with time travel, I went with paranormal because of the how and why Laurent went from 1805 to 2017.  No matter whatever category you decide on, just know that you will have read an incredible story that sucks you in from the very first word.

I have read some time travel stories before, not a vast amount but definitely a few,  more often than not the main character is going back in time so when Laurent moved forward more than 200 years I expected mentions of automobiles, electricity, and clothing.  I was surprised but delighted to see the author reflect on little things that most of us take for granted such as light switches, refrigeration, bathtubs, and especially Laurent's fascination with plastic.  These might be small scenes that don't seem very significant to most but to me they stood out and made it all the more realistic, well as realistic as time travel can be, and showed the attention the author made to details which is always an important factor to me when dealing with historicals, frankly it can be a make or break moment and in this KA Merikan work it is without a doubt a make it moment.

Despite the many differences between Laurent and Beast there is actually many similarities and the chemistry is off the charts.  This is a tale that will make you cringe but warm the heart, will make you hate a few but love even more, and short circuit your brain a time or two but when you hit that last page you will be begging for more.  Luckily for us, there is more to come and frankly I'll be waiting in line when book 2 comes out.  Although I have featured their work on my blog before this is the first time I've read anything by the duo that makes up KA Merikan but Laurent and the Beast will definitely not be the last.

My Dark Knight #2
Original Review August 2017
Knight is a biker with an unusual and unexpected hobby, love of history and more specifically his family genealogy.  Elliot is a man with an unusual passion for past serial killer William Fane, who was killed by Knight's ancestor Laurent Mercier, who just happens to be the significant other of the club president and Knight's best friend and is here after a pact with a demon.  When Knight and Elliot but heads over the Fane/Mercier connection will it turn into more and what will happen when the truth comes out?

As I have often said, I am a series lover and when I'm reading one that has a different couple as the focus of each installment, I rarely love the new ones as much as the original.  Well, I can safely say that as much as I love Laurent and Beast from book 1(conveniently titled Laurent and the Beast) there is something about Knight and Elliot that put them ahead in my heart.  Perhaps its my love of history and genealogy that tipped the scale or perhaps its because Elliot is so innocent even if a bit disturbed in his love of the murderer Fane.

Speaking of Elliot's naive passion for the murderer William Fane, well I don't personally understand it but as a Wisconsinite where we have had more than one serial killer, I have heard about that kind of fixation before so it didn't take me completely by surprise.  I loved how KA Merikan presented it, yes it's disturbing but not over the top, which in my opinion takes talent considering it's a paranormal story where over the top can be the norm.

As for Knight, he can be gruff but he's honest and direct.  Now gruff and direct is expected of a biker story but not always honest and certainly not a genealogy lover.  As a genealogy lover myself, I found his passion to be a great draw and loved how it gave him and Elliot an immediate connection even as they are at odds about Fane & Mercier.

I found My Dark Knight to be an amazing read that had me on the edge of my seat.  I warred with loving and hating both Knight and Elliot at times, okay maybe not hating but I certainly wanted to knock some serious sense into both of them.  I loved how even though Knight and Elliot are the focus of the story we got to see Laurent and Beast too and learn even more about Fane, which I didn't think I could hate more after book 1 but yeah, its possible.  Simply put, book 2 of Kings of Hell MC is amazing and perhaps fun is not the right word considering the content but its definitely enjoyable and I am eagerly looking forward to Jake's story in book 3: On Your Knees, Prospect.

On Your Knees, Prospect #3
Original Review January 2018:
Jake has been longing for his patch so he can become a full member of the Kings of Hell, for they are his family but until then he does as he's asked as prospect.  When a new prospect is brought in Jake feels he should be a rung or two higher on the ladder than the newbie despite Vars somewhat advanced age.  There is attraction between the two on many levels but will the secrets they both harbor get in the way and what will happen to the Kings of Hell when those secrets are revealed?

First off I have to say that I love this series and that both books 1 & 2, Laurent and the Beast & My Dark Knight made my Best Reads of 2017 as well as Sunday Safe Word Shelf Best of 2017.  BDSM is not exactly at the top of my favorite genres, I enjoy them but not exactly what I would label as my "goto genre" but when written well and the author shows the proper respect for the lifestyle then I in turn show my gratitude and respect as well.  Now as much as KA Merikan shows that respect, this is a paranormal story which gives a little leeway to the authors but fortunately they still remain true when telling Jake and Vars dominating/submissive push and pull romance.

As for the paranormal aspect of the story, well I won't touch too much on it because I don't want to give anything away but I will say that I absolutely love how they blend romance, drama, lust, mystery, paranormal, and lets face it at times pure horror into this installment.  You are treading a fine line when it comes to adding this much darkness into a love story but the authors do it wonderfully.  Even bikers who make deals with demons deserve some happiness.  I won't lie, I found Jake to be a bit of nuisance at times during My Dark Knight as he was so devoted to Knight and didn't care for Elliot's intrusion but I still loved him and was eagerly awaiting his own story.  I was not disappointed.

As much as I wanted to read this when it first was released I was in the midst of my holiday reading and knew that I wouldn't be able to give it the respect and concentration that I knew it deserved so I pushed it off until after the new year was underway and boy am I glad I did.  On Your Knees, Prospect had me hooked so deeply that I didn't want to put it down.  I chose to read this on a day I was at the Mayo Clinic for nearly 12 hours as my mother had appointments, was that the wisest decision? Probably not as I had to put it down when she was called in and I had to go with her but it definitely kept my mind occupied in the down times in between.  For that alone I want to say a huge thank you to the authors.  I am eagerly awaiting Gray's Shadow.

RATING: 


Laurent & the Beast #1
Hound’s alarmed growling was coming his way, along with whines, when he reached the right door and opened it, only to have the massive Rottweiler’s body rush past him and into the corridor. Beast expected his pet to rush toward the room where the accident happened just minutes ago but Hound looked back at Beast, as if signalling he wanted to be followed, and rushed the other way, stirring the worst of feelings in Beast.

Was there an intruder somewhere in the house? With the sheer size of the former asylum that has served as the Kings of Hell Clubhouse for the last fifteen years, it was easy to overlook things happening in the disused parts of the property. They once had a bunch of teenagers who came over wanting to spy on the orgy. That thankfully didn’t end in blood, and out of the whole mess they got Jake to join their ranks.

Beast wondered whether he shouldn’t go back to the armory and get himself a gun but ultimately decided against it. There would be police and emergency services coming for Davy, and he didn’t want to run around with a firearm, no matter how good their relationship with the local police was.

Hound moved as if he were following a clear trail, but Beast couldn’t smell anything apart from dust and dampness. They were leaving behind the shouting and even the sound of the ambulance approaching, and eventually entered a corridor so disused it had a thick layer of dust on the floor. Now even Beast could see faint footprints in the dust, and next to them, dark droplets that could be blood.

Hound smelled the traces, looked back and broke into a run, which had Beast following him with the worst of expectations as to what he would eventually find. His heart beat faster as they ran down the dark hallway.

The building was a labyrinth, and this far away from where they all lived and worked, it wasn’t even wired anymore, so he breathed in the smell of mildew and followed Hound through the darkness in hope he would not stumble.

Windows in the doorless rooms on both sides of the corridor were the only source of light, now delivering a faint red and blue glow of the approaching ambulance. For all Beast knew, this could have been a gothic castle, something out of Bram Stoker’s Dracula, with bloodthirsty monsters waiting for their next victim in one of the endless hallways, and yet he only ran faster, listening to the steady tap of Hound’s paws.

Without any hesitation whatsoever, Hound rushed inside one of the rooms and gave a growl so vicious something inside Beast mourned his decision not to take a gun with him. But no one shot at him when Hound let out a single bark. Beast pushed past the empty doorway, jumping over a fallen chair, only to see someone hiding in the shadows.

Judging by the long, wavy hair and small stature, Beast at first thought it was a woman, but then the person spoke with a distinctly male voice.

“I… I’m not certain where I am.” The stranger took half a step out of the shadow, and into the flashing light coming from outside. His accent was distinctly foreign. French maybe?

Beast took him in with a scowl. Blood covered the stranger’s face, hair, dripped from his chin, from the tips of his trembling fingers, and stained the outfit that looked as if he’d stolen it from the set of a costume drama. Knee-high boots, fitted pants, a vest worn under a tailcoat.

“What the fuck are you doing on our property, boy?” hissed Beast, watching the soft features of a very young man. “Whose blood is this?” he asked, still cautious. In his experience, a non-threatening presence could hide an adept fighter, so he was not taking any chances as he joined Hound in front of the stranger, who was so short in comparison to Beast’s own six foot five form that his red-stained head only reached Beast’s pecs.

The stranger backed away into the corner, whimpering in fear the moment Hound growled at him again and lowered his head, but Beast wasn’t having any of it and grabbed the boy’s arm. “Is the blood yours then? Someone attacked you? Where?” he asked, not hesitating to pat the intruder down, to make sure there were no weapons hiding under the fancy coat.

The boy tried to weasel out of his grip, but he didn’t seem adept at using force. “N-no. I don’t think it’s mine. I don’t know. Is this hell?”

Beast groaned, staring at the silly-looking young man, whose white shirt was completely drenched in red. Someone must have died to produce this much blood.

“You will explain yourself to King.”

My Dark Knight #2
The moon was high up the sky tonight, framed by puffy, thick clouds. Knight pushed Elliot toward the woods. “Where’s your car?”

Fat drops of cold rain hit Elliot’s face as soon as they were out the door. Of course. Because this night hasn’t been bad enough already. At least he still had all his teeth. Maybe Knight would let him off the hook with a few bruises after all?

“If you uncuff me, I’ll go myself.”

“Ha. In your dreams, Count. I wouldn’t believe you even if you shut down that idiotic YouTube channel to appease me,” Knight said, leading Elliot toward the woods. Despite the ice-cold wetness soaking into Elliot’s stockings, he was glad for the fallen leaves, as they protected him from stones and sticks that would have likely hurt his feet otherwise.

And even though Knight was his potential doom, Elliot still wondered what the man actually thought of him. At the end of the day it was better to be seen as reckless than pathetic.

“It’s outside the property,” Elliot mumbled.

“Good. I’m up for a little walk,” Knight said when they dove between the trees. Darkness instantly became so thick Elliot could barely see what was within an arm’s reach, but Knight navigated the path just fine, as if he knew the way by heart. His arm was shockingly hot on Elliot’s shoulder, streaming warmth all over his body. Clad in only the inexpensive suit of thin fabric, Elliot was already sensing spikes of cold biting at his flesh. His stockings would surely be ruined by the end of this walk of shame.

“So… your interest in your ancestors. It’s not an incest thing, is it?” Elliot had to fight to prevent his teeth from rattling. He frowned, realizing that what he said came out wrong. “I don’t mean that in a bad way.”

Knight exhaled loudly and squeezed Elliot’s shoulder even harder. “You’re completely out of it. How could this even occur to you? Not everyone is jerking off to dead guys.”

They turned into a path Elliot hadn’t even noticed at first despite his eyes having gotten used to the dark. This was not his night. If he survived Knight’s punishment, then he’d die of pneumonia anyway.

“Stop saying that. William wasn’t just anyone. He was special!”

“Special how? You mean because he had the unusual hobby of murdering people? And, only young men known to be handsome. We both know what that means.”

“So he was gay. Big deal. With the club president you guys have, this shouldn’t be an issue.” Elliot dared to glance up at Knight’s face. The man was too handsome to be real. All symmetry, cheekbones, and a nose that had surely never been broken.

Knight snorted. “If you look at how serial killers operate it’s more than likely he was also sexually assaulting his victims. Is that the kind of thing you’re into? Maybe I shouldn’t rough you up too much, or you’ll come back for more.”

Elliot’s whole body was so cold violent tremors went through it every now and then, but his face still went hot at the notion. “Sure, he killed people, but you don’t know what those men were like. You don’t know what they’d done to him.” Elliot tasted powder on his tongue and bit his lips in shame when he realized his intricate but cheap makeup was now dripping down his face.

“Really? You think a baker or a clerk could hurt a man who owned a large estate and was part of the high society?” Knight asked and stopped, letting go of Elliot. For a moment, Elliot’s frantic brain told him to run, but before he could consider it, a heavenly warmth covered his shoulders. The scent of leather and the same aroma he’d sensed on Knight had Elliot’s insides flaring up with butterflies.

Covered by Knight’s leather jacket, he suddenly forgot what they’d been talking about. At least the tears that spilled down his face shouldn’t be so visible in the dark. Why would have Knight done such a thing? Why give up his own comfort for Elliot’s sake? It simply didn’t add up.

Elliot looked up at Knight, embarrassed about the way he choked up at the gesture. “They could have still broken his heart.”

Knight watched him for several seconds. “One day, someone’s gonna murder you, you know that? This kind of thinking’s gonna send some homicidal douchebag your way, and off you go,” he said, poking Elliot’s forehead with his finger.

Elliot looked away, all kinds of restless. The warm leather jacket felt like a shield from all the world’s evil, and he loved that feeling, even though his mind alerted him constantly that something was amiss. At least he was getting the vibe that homosexuality didn’t bother Knight. “How do you know I wouldn’t kill them first?”

Knight crooked his head so abruptly some of his thick hair rolled back to uncover his shoulder. After giving away his jacket, he was clad only in a T-shirt that didn’t exactly cling to his chest but showcased it in the best way possible. “You? With no meat on those bones?”

The sense of indignity pushed Elliot forward, and he started walking even though he had no idea where he was going. “All you need is good aim.”

On Your Knees, Prospect #3
Jake wouldn’t be subjected to this indignity. He hit right back at Vars, even if the man was solid as a rock. “I’m no slave! I do what I’m asked, and yes, if that means sucking dick, so be it. It’s called dedication. I bet you’ve never heard of it!”

Something flashed in Vars’s eyes, and he descended on Jake, twisting back his arms and pushing him forward as if Jake barely weighed anything. With a yelp, Jake clenched his eyes shut, unable to breathe as he braced himself for impact with the floor, but his body met hard steel instead.

Dampness started soaking into his clothes, and his chin slid over Knight’s newly-cleaned car. It smelled of detergent, sharp and unpleasant, but the large body pressing him down overpowered all his senses.

He struggled against the firm hold but knew he could put more strength into it. His mind drifted off to the leather flogger and cuffs that have occupied it from the moment Jake had made the mistake of touching Vars’s toy bag.

The cool touch of the car’s hood was a relief to his burning cheek. It was increasingly difficult to remind himself every day that Vars was a prospect like him when the man carried himself with so much authority.

“You sure of that?” Vars whispered, leaning over Jake until his lips were inches away from Jake’s ear. The movement pressed his hips tighter to Jake’s ass, and even though there was no trace of arousal in those leather pants, sensing the heat of Vars’s groin had Jake’s flesh feel like molten fire. Were Vars’s pubes salt-and-pepper as well, or had that been his imagination?

“Of what?” Jake’s voice came out trembling so heavily he didn’t recognize it at first. What was he doing? He couldn’t possibly give into this weird thing Vars was pulling him into. Vars had no right to him. No patch. And yet everything about the energy Vars exuded spoke to Jake on a level he didn’t understand.

So he stayed put and stopped the pretense of struggle.

Vars breathed fire down the back of Jake’s neck, and while his body still pressed down hard, and his powerful hands still kept Jake’s arms in a twist, something about the hold changed. Vars hesitated with his answer, his hips swaying gently against Jake’s buttocks as he inhaled and exhaled so close to Jake’s ear it was almost like shouting.

“That you want to serve. That polishing all those shoes on your knees gets your dick hard.”

Yes? No? Maybe? No. Yes.

So he might actually enjoy doing things for the members. Big deal. It was a lucky thing, since he’d been stuck as a prospect for years.

Jake couldn’t understand why he was so nervous. Why his body reacted so violently to this inquisition. Vars’s bulk pressing against him wasn’t helping with focus, but it was the hold on his arms that was making Jake’s senses spiral out of control. He’d gotten a glimmer of that when wrestling with Gray before, but there was something different about Vars holding him down. He just didn’t know what.

“I just want to please,” Jake whispered so quietly he wasn’t sure he’d be heard.

Author Bio:
K.A. Merikan are a team of writers who try not to suck at adulting, with some success. Always eager to explore the murky waters of the weird and wonderful, K.A. Merikan don’t follow fixed formulas and want each of their books to be a surprise for those who choose to hop on for the ride.

K.A. Merikan have a few sweeter M/M romances as well, but they specialize in the dark, dirty, and dangerous side of M/M, full of bikers, bad boys, mafiosi, and scorching hot romance.


FACEBOOK  /  TWITTER  /  WEBSITE
PINTEREST  /  AMAZON  /  GOODREADS 
EMAIL: kamerikan@gmail.com  



Laurent & the Beast #1

My Dark Knight #2

On Your Knees, Prospect #3

Series Recap Blitz: End Street Detective Agency by RJ Scott & Amber Kell

Authors: RJ Scott & Amber Kell
Series: End Street Detective Agency #1-6
Genre: M/M Romance, Paranormal, Mystery

⏳πŸ’Έ⏳Currently FREE October 27 - October 31⏳πŸ’Έ⏳
Summary:
Sam Enderson is a human detective who inherits a building from where his Uncle used to run a detective agency. He finds himself working for paranormal creatures despite his resolve to stick with humans only. To supplement his income as a new PI Sam rents out rooms in the large house.

Bob is a vampire and turns up on Sam’s doorstep to rent a room. Sparks fly and Sam is attracted to the vampire despite himself.

Six cases, and a box full of secrets, with dragons, vampires, witches, ghosts, werewolves, demons, angels, santas, and a talking gargoyle… to name but a few.


Volume One: Case of the Cupid Curse #1 & Case of the Wicked Wolf #2
Re-Read Review March 2017:
Sam the human(he says) and Bob the Vampire are even better the second time around. I've never re-read a book less than 6 months after my original read before and loved it so much I'm already looking forward to my next re-read ;)

Original Review October 2016:
Cupid Curse is a wonderful beginning to a series.  It introduces us to the main characters, and a few secondary ones, with just the right blend of drama, humor, and mystery.  We all know that not witches are bad but when one curses you, you definitely don't take it for granted.  Sam finds himself wanting to run a purely human cases only private investigation business but he soon finds that is not the route fate seems to have in mind.  Witches, gargoyles, ghosts, sirens, faes, and a vampire named Bob(which completely caught me off guard in a lovely humorous way that still has me smiling weeks after originally reading) have put Sam smack into the middle of world he really didn't want to be in.

Wicked Wolf: Sam is still searching for the missing little girl wolf, Shelby but we also meet Dan the demon as well as get to know Hart the alpha better.  Wicked begins right from where Cupid left off and Sam is still intent on having human only cases but once again, fate intervenes and is Sam completely human himself?  Well, you have to read that for yourself but I will say with each case and each new paranormal he helps, Sam gains little extras that certainly question who or what he is.

Volume Two: Case of the Dragon's Dilemma #3 & Case of the Sinful Santa #4
Re-Read March 2017:
I never thought I'd be able to re-read a book(or series in this case) less than 6 months after my initial read but I did and loved it all the more. Still get a laugh out of a vampire named Bob.


Original Read October 2016:
Dragon's Dilemma: I don't think I've ever read a story with dragons or dragon shifters before but after reading this, I'd love to read more, who knew dragons could be so sexy and good?  Once again, one case leads into another.  I won't touch on the case itself but I will say that Sam the human-non human and Bob the vampire continue to grab hold of my heart and crack me up at the same time. You can't help but cheer them on in this crazy world that Sam has found himself thrust into.

Sinful Santa: When a series like End Street happens, there is the potential for new characters with each entry but you don't expect them to all carry over from one to the next.  I mean when a case concludes so should the clients, right? Well not in this series and neither does it get crowded, each character has his or her place in their world and in the continuing story.  Who knew Santa's family could be so interesting? Well, you will after you've read Case of the Sinful Santa, which in itself is a bit of conundrum, Santa(or his family at least) taking part in anything that involves sin, what a devilish idea and RJ & Amber handle it interestingly.

Case of the Purple Pearl #5
Re-Read March 2017:
Better than ever. Sam and Bob's chemistry just jumps off the page and knowing the end didn't take away an ounce of enjoyment the second time around.


Original Read October 2016:
With number 5 we learn how the stone gargoyle came to be stone, but is he a real gargoyle?  I think you all know what my next statement will be: you'll have to read that for yourself.  As it is with everything in Sam's world, there's often more questions than answers and this time Purple Pearl ends in a bit of a cliffhanger, luckily for me I only have to wait a few weeks for number 6.  Sam and Bob may not always seem to be the main characters in the plot but they are at the heart of it, this time it seems more dangerous but as always, Sam the human-non human and Bob the vampire's love is true and bright but can it survive their newest case?

The Case of the Guilty Ghost #6
Original Review April 2017:
I had bittersweet feels about this one when the release day came around.  On the plus side, End Street Detective Agency Series is amazing, stupendous, fabulous, well frankly it's just plain great all around.  On the minus side, it's the conclusion, the end, finale, final, finis, no more, well frankly that leaves me with just all kinds of boo-hooing.  So as you can imagine, I hated to begin because then it would be it when I hit the last page but I couldn't not read The Case of the Guilty Ghost, the gang cried out to be read.

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

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

Overall Series Review October 2016:
How had I not read this series before?  It should have been a no brainer considering how much I love RJ Scott's work not to mention that it's a collaboration with Amber Kell.  Oh well, it's always nice to stumble onto an unexpected surprise and that is definitely what you get with End Street Detective Agency, surprise blended with humor, drama, mystery, paranormal, and of course underneath it all and entwined throughout is love. Ghosts, vampires, sirens, wolfs, dragons, faes, gargoyles, familiars, demons, and the list goes on.  Who knew so many paranormal entities could not only co-exist but even work, live, and love together?  No matter how many books RJ & Amber decide to write in the End Street universe, I have a feeling that it will be a very real probability that it's a series I'll revisit often and most likely every Halloween. A must read if you are even the slightest bit of a paranormal fan.

RATING: 

RJ Scott
RJ’s goal is to write stories with a heart of romance, a troubled road to reach happiness, and most importantly, that hint of a happily ever after.

RJ is the author of the over one hundred novels and discovered romance in books at a very young age. She realized that if there wasn’t romance on the page, she could create it in her head, and is a lifelong writer.

She lives and works out of her home in the beautiful English countryside, spends her spare time reading, watching films, and enjoying time with her family.

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

She’s always thrilled to hear from readers, bloggers and other writers. Please contact via the following links below.

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

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

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

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


RJ Scott
B&N  /  INSTAGRAM  /  TUMBLR
AUDIBLE  /  FB GROUP  /  PINTEREST
BOOKBUB  /  KOBO  /  SMASHWORDS
iTUNES  /  AMAZON  /  GOODREADS
EMAIL: rj@rjscott.co.uk

Amber Kell
FACEBOOK  /  TWITTER  /  BLOG  /  KOBO
SMASHWORDS  /  EXTASY  /  AMAZON
B&N  /  DREAMSPINNER  /   GOODREADS
EMAIL: amberkellwrites@gmail.com



Volume 1
⏳πŸ’Έ⏳Currently FREE October 27 - October 31⏳πŸ’Έ⏳

Volume 2
Volume 3




Brought to you by:

Friday, October 26, 2018

πŸ“˜πŸŽ₯Friday's Film AdaptationπŸŽ₯πŸ“˜: Frankenstein by Mary Shelley


Summary:
Mary Shelley began writing Frankenstein when she was only eighteen. At once a Gothic thriller, a passionate romance, and a cautionary tale about the dangers of science, Frankenstein tells the story of committed science student Victor Frankenstein. Obsessed with discovering the cause of generation and life and bestowing animation upon lifeless matter, Frankenstein assembles a human being from stolen body parts but; upon bringing it to life, he recoils in horror at the creature's hideousness. Tormented by isolation and loneliness, the once-innocent creature turns to evil and unleashes a campaign of murderous revenge against his creator, Frankenstein.

Frankenstein, an instant bestseller and an important ancestor of both the horror and science fiction genres, not only tells a terrifying story, but also raises profound, disturbing questions about the very nature of life and the place of humankind within the cosmos: What does it mean to be human? What responsibilities do we have to each other? How far can we go in tampering with Nature? In our age, filled with news of organ donation genetic engineering, and bio-terrorism, these questions are more relevant than ever.


Chapter 16
“Cursed, cursed creator! Why did I live? Why, in that instant, did I not extinguish the spark of existence which you had so wantonly bestowed? I know not; despair had not yet taken possession of me; my feelings were those of rage and revenge. I could with pleasure have destroyed the cottage and its inhabitants and have glutted myself with their shrieks and misery.

“When night came I quitted my retreat and wandered in the wood; and now, no longer restrained by the fear of discovery, I gave vent to my anguish in fearful howlings. I was like a wild beast that had broken the toils, destroying the objects that obstructed me and ranging through the wood with a stag-like swiftness. Oh! What a miserable night I passed! The cold stars shone in mockery, and the bare trees waved their branches above me; now and then the sweet voice of a bird burst forth amidst the universal stillness. All, save I, were at rest or in enjoyment; I, like the arch-fiend, bore a hell within me, and finding myself unsympathized with, wished to tear up the trees, spread havoc and destruction around me, and then to have sat down and enjoyed the ruin.

“But this was a luxury of sensation that could not endure; I became fatigued with excess of bodily exertion and sank on the damp grass in the sick impotence of despair. There was none among the myriads of men that existed who would pity or assist me; and should I feel kindness towards my enemies? No; from that moment I declared everlasting war against the species, and more than all, against him who had formed me and sent me forth to this insupportable misery.

“The sun rose; I heard the voices of men and knew that it was impossible to return to my retreat during that day. Accordingly I hid myself in some thick underwood, determining to devote the ensuing hours to reflection on my situation.

“The pleasant sunshine and the pure air of day restored me to some degree of tranquillity; and when I considered what had passed at the cottage, I could not help believing that I had been too hasty in my conclusions. I had certainly acted imprudently. It was apparent that my conversation had interested the father in my behalf, and I was a fool in having exposed my person to the horror of his children. I ought to have familiarized the old De Lacey to me, and by degrees to have discovered myself to the rest of his family, when they should have been prepared for my approach. But I did not believe my errors to be irretrievable, and after much consideration I resolved to return to the cottage, seek the old man, and by my representations win him to my party.

“These thoughts calmed me, and in the afternoon I sank into a profound sleep; but the fever of my blood did not allow me to be visited by peaceful dreams. The horrible scene of the preceding day was forever acting before my eyes; the females were flying and the enraged Felix tearing me from his father’s feet. I awoke exhausted, and finding that it was already night, I crept forth from my hiding-place, and went in search of food.

“When my hunger was appeased, I directed my steps towards the well-known path that conducted to the cottage. All there was at peace. I crept into my hovel and remained in silent expectation of the accustomed hour when the family arose. That hour passed, the sun mounted high in the heavens, but the cottagers did not appear. I trembled violently, apprehending some dreadful misfortune. The inside of the cottage was dark, and I heard no motion; I cannot describe the agony of this suspense.

“Presently two countrymen passed by, but pausing near the cottage, they entered into conversation, using violent gesticulations; but I did not understand what they said, as they spoke the language of the country, which differed from that of my protectors. Soon after, however, Felix approached with another man; I was surprised, as I knew that he had not quitted the cottage that morning, and waited anxiously to discover from his discourse the meaning of these unusual appearances.

“‘Do you consider,’ said his companion to him, ‘that you will be obliged to pay three months’ rent and to lose the produce of your garden? I do not wish to take any unfair advantage, and I beg therefore that you will take some days to consider of your determination.’

“‘It is utterly useless,’ replied Felix; ‘we can never again inhabit your cottage. The life of my father is in the greatest danger, owing to the dreadful circumstance that I have related. My wife and my sister will never recover from their horror. I entreat you not to reason with me any more. Take possession of your tenement and let me fly from this place.’

“Felix trembled violently as he said this. He and his companion entered the cottage, in which they remained for a few minutes, and then departed. I never saw any of the family of De Lacey more.

“I continued for the remainder of the day in my hovel in a state of utter and stupid despair. My protectors had departed and had broken the only link that held me to the world. For the first time the feelings of revenge and hatred filled my bosom, and I did not strive to control them, but allowing myself to be borne away by the stream, I bent my mind towards injury and death. When I thought of my friends, of the mild voice of De Lacey, the gentle eyes of Agatha, and the exquisite beauty of the Arabian, these thoughts vanished and a gush of tears somewhat soothed me. But again when I reflected that they had spurned and deserted me, anger returned, a rage of anger, and unable to injure anything human, I turned my fury towards inanimate objects. As night advanced I placed a variety of combustibles around the cottage, and after having destroyed every vestige of cultivation in the garden, I waited with forced impatience until the moon had sunk to commence my operations.

“As the night advanced, a fierce wind arose from the woods and quickly dispersed the clouds that had loitered in the heavens; the blast tore along like a mighty avalanche and produced a kind of insanity in my spirits that burst all bounds of reason and reflection. I lighted the dry branch of a tree and danced with fury around the devoted cottage, my eyes still fixed on the western horizon, the edge of which the moon nearly touched. A part of its orb was at length hid, and I waved my brand; it sank, and with a loud scream I fired the straw, and heath, and bushes, which I had collected. The wind fanned the fire, and the cottage was quickly enveloped by the flames, which clung to it and licked it with their forked and destroying tongues.

“As soon as I was convinced that no assistance could save any part of the habitation, I quitted the scene and sought for refuge in the woods.

“And now, with the world before me, whither should I bend my steps? I resolved to fly far from the scene of my misfortunes; but to me, hated and despised, every country must be equally horrible. At length the thought of you crossed my mind. I learned from your papers that you were my father, my creator; and to whom could I apply with more fitness than to him who had given me life? Among the lessons that Felix had bestowed upon Safie, geography had not been omitted; I had learned from these the relative situations of the different countries of the earth. You had mentioned Geneva as the name of your native town, and towards this place I resolved to proceed.

“But how was I to direct myself? I knew that I must travel in a southwesterly direction to reach my destination, but the sun was my only guide. I did not know the names of the towns that I was to pass through, nor could I ask information from a single human being; but I did not despair. From you only could I hope for succour, although towards you I felt no sentiment but that of hatred. Unfeeling, heartless creator! You had endowed me with perceptions and passions and then cast me abroad an object for the scorn and horror of mankind. But on you only had I any claim for pity and redress, and from you I determined to seek that justice which I vainly attempted to gain from any other being that wore the human form.

“My travels were long and the sufferings I endured intense. It was late in autumn when I quitted the district where I had so long resided. I travelled only at night, fearful of encountering the visage of a human being. Nature decayed around me, and the sun became heatless; rain and snow poured around me; mighty rivers were frozen; the surface of the earth was hard and chill, and bare, and I found no shelter. Oh, earth! How often did I imprecate curses on the cause of my being! The mildness of my nature had fled, and all within me was turned to gall and bitterness. The nearer I approached to your habitation, the more deeply did I feel the spirit of revenge enkindled in my heart. Snow fell, and the waters were hardened, but I rested not. A few incidents now and then directed me, and I possessed a map of the country; but I often wandered wide from my path. The agony of my feelings allowed me no respite; no incident occurred from which my rage and misery could not extract its food; but a circumstance that happened when I arrived on the confines of Switzerland, when the sun had recovered its warmth and the earth again began to look green, confirmed in an especial manner the bitterness and horror of my feelings.

“I generally rested during the day and travelled only when I was secured by night from the view of man. One morning, however, finding that my path lay through a deep wood, I ventured to continue my journey after the sun had risen; the day, which was one of the first of spring, cheered even me by the loveliness of its sunshine and the balminess of the air. I felt emotions of gentleness and pleasure, that had long appeared dead, revive within me. Half surprised by the novelty of these sensations, I allowed myself to be borne away by them, and forgetting my solitude and deformity, dared to be happy. Soft tears again bedewed my cheeks, and I even raised my humid eyes with thankfulness towards the blessed sun, which bestowed such joy upon me.

“I continued to wind among the paths of the wood, until I came to its boundary, which was skirted by a deep and rapid river, into which many of the trees bent their branches, now budding with the fresh spring. Here I paused, not exactly knowing what path to pursue, when I heard the sound of voices, that induced me to conceal myself under the shade of a cypress. I was scarcely hid when a young girl came running towards the spot where I was concealed, laughing, as if she ran from someone in sport. She continued her course along the precipitous sides of the river, when suddenly her foot slipped, and she fell into the rapid stream. I rushed from my hiding-place and with extreme labour, from the force of the current, saved her and dragged her to shore. She was senseless, and I endeavoured by every means in my power to restore animation, when I was suddenly interrupted by the approach of a rustic, who was probably the person from whom she had playfully fled. On seeing me, he darted towards me, and tearing the girl from my arms, hastened towards the deeper parts of the wood. I followed speedily, I hardly knew why; but when the man saw me draw near, he aimed a gun, which he carried, at my body and fired. I sank to the ground, and my injurer, with increased swiftness, escaped into the wood.

“This was then the reward of my benevolence! I had saved a human being from destruction, and as a recompense I now writhed under the miserable pain of a wound which shattered the flesh and bone. The feelings of kindness and gentleness which I had entertained but a few moments before gave place to hellish rage and gnashing of teeth. Inflamed by pain, I vowed eternal hatred and vengeance to all mankind. But the agony of my wound overcame me; my pulses paused, and I fainted.

“For some weeks I led a miserable life in the woods, endeavouring to cure the wound which I had received. The ball had entered my shoulder, and I knew not whether it had remained there or passed through; at any rate I had no means of extracting it. My sufferings were augmented also by the oppressive sense of the injustice and ingratitude of their infliction. My daily vows rose for revenge—a deep and deadly revenge, such as would alone compensate for the outrages and anguish I had endured.

“After some weeks my wound healed, and I continued my journey. The labours I endured were no longer to be alleviated by the bright sun or gentle breezes of spring; all joy was but a mockery which insulted my desolate state and made me feel more painfully that I was not made for the enjoyment of pleasure.

“But my toils now drew near a close, and in two months from this time I reached the environs of Geneva.

“It was evening when I arrived, and I retired to a hiding-place among the fields that surround it to meditate in what manner I should apply to you. I was oppressed by fatigue and hunger and far too unhappy to enjoy the gentle breezes of evening or the prospect of the sun setting behind the stupendous mountains of Jura.

“At this time a slight sleep relieved me from the pain of reflection, which was disturbed by the approach of a beautiful child, who came running into the recess I had chosen, with all the sportiveness of infancy. Suddenly, as I gazed on him, an idea seized me that this little creature was unprejudiced and had lived too short a time to have imbibed a horror of deformity. If, therefore, I could seize him and educate him as my companion and friend, I should not be so desolate in this peopled earth.

“Urged by this impulse, I seized on the boy as he passed and drew him towards me. As soon as he beheld my form, he placed his hands before his eyes and uttered a shrill scream; I drew his hand forcibly from his face and said, ‘Child, what is the meaning of this? I do not intend to hurt you; listen to me.’

“He struggled violently. ‘Let me go,’ he cried; ‘monster! Ugly wretch! You wish to eat me and tear me to pieces. You are an ogre. Let me go, or I will tell my papa.’

“‘Boy, you will never see your father again; you must come with me.’

“‘Hideous monster! Let me go. My papa is a syndic—he is M. Frankenstein—he will punish you. You dare not keep me.’

“‘Frankenstein! you belong then to my enemy—to him towards whom I have sworn eternal revenge; you shall be my first victim.’

“The child still struggled and loaded me with epithets which carried despair to my heart; I grasped his throat to silence him, and in a moment he lay dead at my feet.

“I gazed on my victim, and my heart swelled with exultation and hellish triumph; clapping my hands, I exclaimed, ‘I too can create desolation; my enemy is not invulnerable; this death will carry despair to him, and a thousand other miseries shall torment and destroy him.’

“As I fixed my eyes on the child, I saw something glittering on his breast. I took it; it was a portrait of a most lovely woman. In spite of my malignity, it softened and attracted me. For a few moments I gazed with delight on her dark eyes, fringed by deep lashes, and her lovely lips; but presently my rage returned; I remembered that I was forever deprived of the delights that such beautiful creatures could bestow and that she whose resemblance I contemplated would, in regarding me, have changed that air of divine benignity to one expressive of disgust and affright.

“Can you wonder that such thoughts transported me with rage? I only wonder that at that moment, instead of venting my sensations in exclamations and agony, I did not rush among mankind and perish in the attempt to destroy them.

“While I was overcome by these feelings, I left the spot where I had committed the murder, and seeking a more secluded hiding-place, I entered a barn which had appeared to me to be empty. A woman was sleeping on some straw; she was young, not indeed so beautiful as her whose portrait I held, but of an agreeable aspect and blooming in the loveliness of youth and health. Here, I thought, is one of those whose joy-imparting smiles are bestowed on all but me. And then I bent over her and whispered, ‘Awake, fairest, thy lover is near—he who would give his life but to obtain one look of affection from thine eyes; my beloved, awake!’

“The sleeper stirred; a thrill of terror ran through me. Should she indeed awake, and see me, and curse me, and denounce the murderer? Thus would she assuredly act if her darkened eyes opened and she beheld me. The thought was madness; it stirred the fiend within me—not I, but she, shall suffer; the murder I have committed because I am forever robbed of all that she could give me, she shall atone. The crime had its source in her; be hers the punishment! Thanks to the lessons of Felix and the sanguinary laws of man, I had learned now to work mischief. I bent over her and placed the portrait securely in one of the folds of her dress. She moved again, and I fled.

“For some days I haunted the spot where these scenes had taken place, sometimes wishing to see you, sometimes resolved to quit the world and its miseries forever. At length I wandered towards these mountains, and have ranged through their immense recesses, consumed by a burning passion which you alone can gratify. We may not part until you have promised to comply with my requisition. I am alone and miserable; man will not associate with me; but one as deformed and horrible as myself would not deny herself to me. My companion must be of the same species and have the same defects. This being you must create.”


A crazed scientist creates a living being from body parts, not realizing it has a madman's brain.

Release Date: November 21, 1931
Release Time: 71 minutes

Cast:
Colin Clive as Henry Frankenstein
Mae Clarke as Elizabeth Lavenza
John Boles as Victor Moritz
Boris Karloff as Frankenstein's monster
Edward Van Sloan as Dr. Waldman
Frederick Kerr as Baron Frankenstein
Dwight Frye as Fritz
Lionel Belmore as Herr Vogel, the Burgomaster
Marilyn Harris as Little Maria
Michael Mark as Ludwig, Maria's father


Trailer

Clips



Author Bio:
Mary Shelley (1797-1851), the only daughter of writers William Godwin and Mary Wollstonecraft, and wife of Percy Bysshe Shelley, is the critically acclaimed author of Frankenstein, Valperga, and The Last Man, in addition to many other works. Mary Shelley’s writings reflect and were influenced by a number of literary traditions including Gothic and Romantic ideals, and Frankenstein is widely regarded as the first modern work of science fiction. Today’s scholarship of Mary Shelley’s writings reveal her to be a political radical, as demonstrated though recurring themes of cooperation and sympathy, particularly among women, in her work, which are in direct conflict with the individual Romantic ideals of the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries.


GOOGLE PLAY  /  IMDB  /  KOBO
B&N  /  AMAZON  /  WIKI  /  GOODREADS



B&N  /  KOBO  /  iTUNES  /  AUDIBLE

Film
AMAZON US  /  AMAZON UK  /  B&N
AFI  /  ALL MOVIE  /  WIKI  /  IMDB  /  TCM