Myracles in the Void
Wes Dyson
(Myraverse)
Publication date: April 12th 2022
Genres: Fantasy, Young Adult

There once were two children,
a girl and a boy.
One could create,
the other, destroy.

Within every heart lies the power to bond or break.

On an isolated port of floating garbage called Hop, Gaiel Izz and his sister, Lynd, never imagined they’d be able to change anything…

Not their nasty neighbors, not their hungry bellies, and especially not their missing father.

That will change when they discover the power of myracles — magic that either creates or destroys.

As the brother and sister set across Esa to bring their family back together, this power will either unite them or shatter their entire world to pieces.

It will all come down to what truly lies within their hearts…

Create or destroy?

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—

EXCERPT:

Chapter One – Unforgiving Hop

THE RED TIDE is COMING!

Water Level Low.

SPRYT SightingsHighly Expected.

Un-luck + Disaster ToAllWho Encounter.

BLOCK EVERYOPENING.

— Mayor Tanning

What a delightful sign to have hanging in front of one’s home — a mix of “watch out” with “you’re on your own.” But that’s living in Hop for ya, a’kay?

As a floating port in the middle of the sea, there weren’t any roads to or from Hop. On their own, indeed. But it wasn’t always so lonely. Fifty years ago, Hop was a bustling pitstop for the hundreds of trade ships sailing across the Domus Gulf every year. A place to “hop” from one side of the gulf to the other. Being a travel hub made it bursting with exotic goods and fresh ideas. But the wild waters of the gulf were hard to predict, and they only seemed to grow more dangerous over time. One shipwreck was enough to send thoughts and prayers, but after ten and twenty ships washed back blown to bits, it started to nip at the profits. Soon traders found alternate land routes that may have taken longer, but at least weren’t so death-y.

Practically overnight, Hop and its people were forgotten like a used hanky in a puddle. Trapped on a floating port amid the unfor‐ giving sea, a stagnant idea stuck to them — anything made would just be unmade. What was to stop anything they worked hard to build from falling to pieces like Hop did? Nothin’ lasts butsalt in yer ass became the most graffitied words on the splintering streets, a series of long planks called “Boards.” Was there any point in shining your shoes, doing your hair, brushing your teeth? They would all end up dirty, tasseled, and yellow. Undone, eventually. Was there any point in building relationships, then? Nothing lasts but the salt in their asses, indeed.

Just behind that friendly “red tide” warning sign on Boulie Board, a skinny wreck of a home rose from the battered planks. Its number, 76, was drawn large and wide on the front and side in “Hopper White,” a local specialty paint whose main ingredient was seagull poop. Nothing could be wasted in Hop, not even waste. The pieces that made up the home had a kind of widely used look about them, like maybe that wall had once been the barnacled belly of a rowboat, and before that, it was a sign that said HOP: POPULATION 600. Its door was a full fourteen shades of a should-I-touch-that sort of green and was cracked at the bottom up to the knob. Its two sea-weathered windows were small and narrow like suspicious eyes squinting at the neighbors. By Hopper standards, the Izz family actually had quite a fine little nest.

The only reason the Izz house somewhat outshined its raggedy neighbors was because of the family’s firstborn, Gaiel Izz. Gai liked to fix things when they broke. Something about broken objects made him queasy, compulsive even; a roar in the belly yapping at him to make it better. As for the things he couldn’t fix, he’d at least insist on putting a sheet of soggy newspaper over it or something. In fact, he patched so many holes in his clothes with newspaper that it became the dominant fabric. It crinkled as he walked.

One special night, this industrious fifteen-year-old was lying motionless on the floor in one of the home’s damp upstairs bedrooms. His right ear was practically suctioned to the floorboards as he listened carefully for any signs of movement downstairs. He’d been listening so long his ear had become a bright, throbbing mushroom. This night, he’d embark on his most ambitious fixing project yet — his twelve-year-old sister, Lynd.

While Gai may have been on the floor, he wasn’t out of bed. The floor was both of the Izz children’s bed. Many, many things floated by Hop in the strong currents, like sunken ship junk or garbage from far off Electri City on the mainland. But few were “cozy” materials for them to scoop out and use to make bedding. Since nothing came in or out of Hop, if a Hopper wanted something new, they’d best grab a scoop and pray to Zeea that whatever they needed happened to be floating by that day. Gai once scooped an armful of braided anchor rope and wove it into a nice blanket. He looked over at Lynd sleeping on it, snoring like a ship headed out to sea

— Twaahhh! Peaceful as she seemed, her little hands kept pulling at the fraying edges of the rope-blanket, almost like tearing it apart soothed her as a babe suckling their thumb would. She was definitely not a fixer like her brother. Truly, she was quite the opposite.

Author Bio:

Wes Dyson is a creative marketer and dog-daddy of four Pomskies living in Western MA. He loves classical music and earthy, grass-tasting tea.

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Soulstealer: Steven
Shane Boulware
(Soulstealer, #2)
Publication date: May 20th 2022
Genres: Adult, Supernatural

The Soulstealer’s greatest power is that no one believes it exists…

…except Steven Carpenter. One of the last remaining members of the Ordo Solis—a thousand-year-old order sworn to kill the ancient demon—even his faith has begun to wane. But when he witnesses the return of the Soulstealer with his own eyes, belief quickly turns to grim reality.

With the souls of the world at stake, Steven knows what he has to do—expose the Soulstealer. There’s just one problem, it knows it’s been discovered … and so do the nefarious cults sworn to the demon’s cause. In a race against time and evil, Steven will have to find help. But will it be enough? Or will they be too late?

Author Shane Boulware ramps up the action in his hair-raising second entry in the Soulstealer series. Burning the boundaries between urban fantasy and suspense thriller, this grim-dark stomach-churner will leave you as breathless as the characters trapped within its pages.

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—

EXCERPT:

Though she didn’t believe him, Jeff promised Sara he’d read to Trista tonight, taking no more than two hours reviewing surveillance. He worked his schedule to spend the first hour watching the Gatekeeper in real-time as he arrived, and the second hour emailing and speeding through the day’s feed.

The Gatekeeper came into view as Jeff’s doorbell rang. Jeff stepped out of his office and got to the door in time to see Sara peering through the peephole. She scowled at Jeff as she opened it, revealing Steven dressed in a Star Trek t-shirt, leather jacket, steel-toed boots, jeans, and a ridiculous purple bandanna around his neck.

Steven waved. “Hi, Sara.”

“Steven.” She glared at Jeff. “Two hours, Jeff, and not one minute more.”

Steven grinned and made a whip-cracking motion with widening eyes as Sara returned to the living room.

“Yeah,” Jeff muttered, “I’m lucky I’m still in the house. Come on in. I’m watching the Gatekeeper.”

“Sweet!” Steven followed Jeff back into the office, setting his backpack down and pulling up a stool while Jeff returned to his chair. They huddled around the television. “Man, we haven’t done this in a while.”

Jeff cracked a smile. “Yeah, it’s been months since we’ve had a good ole fashioned sit-down. Aren’t you supposed to be out cruising the wild?”

Steven shrugged while glancing about the office; empty wrappers and gadgets strewn about. “I was in the neighborhood. I’m still on my vacation time though, so I’ll be headed back out for parts unknown.”

Jeff nudged him. “You were feeling guilty.”

Steven tilted his head. “Yeah, maybe a little. But I was serious when I said that I needed some time away from all this s***. The open road is the open road, and I got an urge I need to satisfy.” Steven pumped his fists and rocked his hips.

Jeff laughed while tucking away some unpaid bills on his desk.

“I decided to go south to the Carolinas,” Steven continued. “Through Tennessee and Missouri, then Ohio and back here. Tomorrow I’ll head out north, possibly all the way to Canuck-land. Who knows? I’ll figure it out when I get there.”

“Meanwhile…” Jeff began.

“Meanwhile, you’re fightin’ the good fight,” Steven added in a southern accent while eyeing the television. The Gatekeeper lounged in a brown leather chair, watching the fire as he did every day. A small table stood to his immediate right and another leather chair on the other side. His black leather fedora rested on the middle table.

Forty minutes into the video, a young man approached the Gatekeeper. Jeff leaned forward, snatched a notepad and mini pen from his back pocket, and scribbled notes on the paper.

Steven scrutinized the unfolding scene. “Easy, killer, just watch.”

The young man tried to sit before jerking still. He stood back up.

“I wish we had audio,” Jeff muttered.

“Shhh, just watch.” Steven strained to read their lips. The camera angles shot out both ways from the fireplace, giving them the perfect view. The Gatekeeper and his new friend began a conversation. Then the young man grabbed hold of the fedora and set it on his head, tapping the edge.

“Holy s***,” Jeff said. “That’s the Gatekeeper’s hat. He either knows exactly what he’s doing, or he has a death wish.”

“Mmmhm, we’ll see.”

They knew what would happen after the Gatekeeper verified the Soulstealer’s identity. They had learned about the procedure back when a much stronger Solis America infiltrated the Raptor’s former headquarters in Boston. Still, they could only guess at what words the two exchanged. The Raptors guarded the secret with a foolproof method: memorization.

The young man sat in the chair, back erect, and continued their dialogue. He took the Gatekeeper’s hat off and returned it to the table, tapping it again. The newcomer said something else, prompting the Gatekeeper to snatch his fedora, stand, and stride toward the VIP section.

The young man made no motion to follow, which they knew wasn’t part of the procedure unless the exchange failed. When the Gatekeeper left the room, the young man exited the bar the way he came.

Steven frowned. “That’s different.”

“What just happened?” Jeff asked.

“Looks like a failed attempt.”

“Yeah, but the guy knew what to do.”

“Or he was just a dumb drunk. It’s probably the Raptors messing with us again.”

“How could they know we’re still watching them?”

Steven gave Jeff a long look. “Jeff, they’ve probably been in your house a dozen times this year alone. I’m pretty sure they know.”

Jeff drew back, his voice trembling. “That’s not funny, Steven. I have a little girl in this house.” His eyes darted around the room as paranoia enveloped him.

“C’mon Jeff, they’re the Raptors. They have dossiers on every one of us, down to what kind of ice cream we like. We’ve been playing Spy vs. Spy since we figured out they supported the Soulstealer.”

“Is that your new name for it, the Soulstealer?”

“Catchy, isn’t it? I came up with it on the ride back. Sounds a lot better than ‘Stealer of Souls,’ or ‘Dracula.’ And Satan.”

Author Bio:

Shane Boulware is an unconventional idealist from Orlando, Florida. Naturally, he commissioned as a Contracting Officer in the United States Air Force in 2012, where he promptly got tased, was hit with pepper spray, participated in a mock riot, jumped out of an airplane, and lived in a combat zone. These experiences tempered his creative instinct and led him to publish two music albums, found an innovation company, break a Guinness World Record, and learn over sixteen dance styles.

Having grown up a huge fan of Dune, Star Wars, Stargate SG-1, Warhammer 40K, Harry Potter, Avatar: The Last Airbender, and The Lord of the Rings, Shane always wanted to create and share a world of his own. His imagination set him on a path to write the supernatural thriller, Soulstealer, and its sequel, The Ordo Solis.

When he’s not negotiating contracts or salsa dancing the night away, you can find Shane taking his creative passion out on an unsuspecting keyboard. If you want to know when his next book will be available, visit his website at ShaneBoulware.com, where you can sign up to receive release updates and join a community of savants, swashbucklers, and nerds.

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River of Ashes
Alexandrea Weis & Lucas Astor
(St. Benedict, #1)
Published by: Vesuvian Books
Publication date: August 2nd 2022
Genres: Adult, Psychological Thriller

“A psychological portrait akin to Lord of the Flies.” ~Midwest Book Review

SOME TRUTHS ARE BETTER KEPT SECRET. SOME SECRETS ARE BETTER OFF DEAD.

ALONG THE BANKS OF THE BOGUE FALAYA RIVER, sits the abandoned St. Francis Seminary. Beneath a canopy of oaks, blocked from prying eyes, the teens of St. Benedict High gather here on Fridays. The rest of the week belongs to school and family—but weekends belong to the river.

And the river belongs to Beau Devereaux.

The only child of a powerful family, Beau can do no wrong. Star quarterback. Handsome. Charming. The “prince” of St. Benedict is the ultimate catch.

He is also a psychopath.

A dirty family secret buried for years, Beau’s evil grows unchecked. In the shadows of the haunted abbey, he commits unspeakable acts on his victims and ensures their silence with threats and intimidation. Senior year, Beau sets his sights on his girlfriend’s headstrong twin sister, Leslie, who hates him. Everything he wants but cannot have, she will be his ultimate prize.

As the victim toll mounts, it becomes clear that someone must stop Beau Devereaux.

And that someone will pay with their life.

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—

EXCERPT:

A howl came from the direction of The Abbey.

Andrea leaned away from him, listening. “What’s that?”

Beau nuzzled her neck. “Wild dogs. They live on The Abbey grounds. There’s a couple of legends about them.”

“What legends?” She stepped out of his embrace.

He watched her hips beneath her coat. “They say the dogs stay around The Abbey waiting for the lady in white. She was a gamekeeper for the seminary school and a lover of one of the monks. She died on the grounds, betrayed by the man she loved. Her dogs were kept to manage the varmint population. The wild dogs are said to be their offspring.”

Beau slipped the coat from her shoulders. “The gamekeeper was found hanging from a tree in a white hooded cloak. It was all kept very hush-hush at the time. After the woman’s death, the dogs roamed the grounds and lived off the land. They’re said to only appear when death is near.”

Beau looked at Andrea to see if she was sufficiently unnerved.

“That’s just creepy.” She glanced at his hands as he tugged at her jeans. “But a guy who brings girls to these abandoned cells is into creepy.”

He liked the image the cells portrayed. It was his laboratory, like he’d read about in Frankenstein, where he could experiment and create his own monsters.

Author Bio:

Alexandrea Weis, RN-CS, PhD, is a multi-award-winning author of over twenty-seven novels, a screenwriter, ICU Nurse, and historian who was born and raised in the French Quarter of New Orleans. Having grown up in the motion picture industry as the daughter of a director, she learned to tell stories from a different perspective and began writing at the age of eight. Infusing the rich tapestry of her hometown into her novels, she believes that creating vivid characters makes a story moving and memorable. A member of the Horror Writers Association and International Thriller Writers Association, Weis writes mystery, suspense, thrillers, horror, crime fiction, and romance. She lives with her husband and pets in New Orleans where she is a permitted/certified wildlife rehabber with the Louisiana Wildlife and Fisheries and rescues orphaned and injured animals.

Lucas Astor is from New York, has resided in Central America and the Middle East, and traveled through Europe. He lives a very private, virtually reclusive lifestyle, preferring to spend time with a close-knit group of friends than be in the spotlight.

He is an author and poet with a penchant for telling stories that delve into the dark side of the human psyche. He likes to explore the evil that exists, not just in the world, but right next door behind a smiling face.

Photography, making wine, and helping endangered species are just some of his interests. Lucas is an expert archer and enjoys jazz, blues, and classical music.

One of his favorite quotes is: “It’s better to be silent than be a fool.” ~Harper Lee (To Kill a Mockingbird)

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The Fiddler of Dawn and Dusk
Katheryn J. Avila
(Greylea Spells, #2)
Publication date: May 19th 2022
Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Romance

Camilla Vargas, gifted violinist unwilling to ever play again.

When I said I wanted to start over somewhere new, being pulled into a world of monsters and magic is not what I had in mind. Caught in the grips of a faulty spell, my only hope of getting home is picking up a violin and completing a goddess’ quest. Add to that a handsome but less-than-willing, divinely appointed bodyguard, and this whole fiasco runs the risk of ruining my new life plan.

But maybe that’s not so bad.

Valmong, prodigy cleric ignoring the voice of his patron god.

When Tenebrin’s voice rings in my mind, I’m usually better at tuning him out. But he’s persistent, and as a cry rings out through the trees, I can’t ignore the order to help. Camilla is odd — for a bard — refusing the violin that’s clearly hers and unfamiliar with the magic she can wield. Her quest for Claritas’ Insight will probably get me killed, but the longer I’m with her, the less I care.

I just want to keep her safe — even if it means I’ll never see her again.

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—

EXCERPT:

Valmong
Could she be any slower?

We’ve been walking for close to two hours and she’s lagged behind the whole time. Though I’m not eager to reach Swynton, I’m not moving as fast as I’d like, and at this rate we might not get there before nightfall. Every time Camilla tries to catch up — either with a jog or a ridiculous walk where she constantly pumps her arms — it’s not long before her breath is short, almost ragged.

I have a half a mind to offer to carry her.

“Sorry…can we take a break? Please?” She leans against a tree, closing her eyes.

“Sure.” I take a step closer to her, “Is it your head? You seemed fine earlier.”

“Yeah. Every time I try to pick up speed, it feels like the world is tilting.” She takes a deep breath. “I think I’ll be okay after a short break.” Camilla sits on a fallen tree. “Sorry again, for slowing you down.”

I shrug, trying to dismiss her concern. “It’s fine. To be honest I’m in no rush to reach Swynton.”

“Why?”

I don’t expect a follow up question, and once more I’m taken aback by how much she doesn’t know. She’s probably the only person in the entire region who doesn’t know who I am.

Or why I’m not exactly welcome in Swynton.

“They’re not very fond of me there.” I leave it at that.

“Should I be nervous, then? If you’re not welcome there, what’s to say I will be?” She fidgets in place, her hands twisting the hem of her top, teeth worrying her bottom lip.

“You’ll be fine.”

She finally drops the topic and sits in silence for another few minutes.

By the time we reach the main road, the sun is high in the sky. The forest lines either side of the road, and I’m surprised there aren’t more people on it. Swynton’s festival starts tonight, and there should be thousands making the pilgrimage here, for the shrines to Tenebrin and Claritas.

Fresh horse tracks and the tell-tale signs of wagon wheels tell me we might have just missed the crowd.

“Do you always travel by foot?” Camilla’s voice cuts through my thoughts.

“Yes. Horses are more trouble than they’re worth.” I turn to look at her without stopping. “Why? Getting tired again?”

“No. And even if you had one, I’ve never ridden before.”

The longer we’re on the road, the lighter the air around us gets, especially as the forest thins the closer we get to Swynton. Beside me, Camilla seems more at ease.

“So…does this happen often? Finding people in the woods like you found me?” She really has a hard time with silence.

“You run into others now and then. This is the first time I’ve had to save anyone, though.”

“You don’t just go around rescuing people?”

“No. Not the rescuing type.” Maybe in another life.

“What type are you, then?”

Will the questions ever cease? I stop, unable to hide my annoyance as I look at her.

Be nice. Tenebrin’s voice only doubles my irritation.

“The ‘does things for money’ type.” I stare her down as I speak, hoping she takes the hint to stop. Maybe trigger some of that same fear I provoked the previous night.

“Was that supposed to intimidate me?” She tilts her head, warm brown eyes trying to find the answer to her question on my face as they squint against the sun. Her face is so open, soft. Curious. Does she know she quirks her lips like that when she asks a question?

She is quite pretty, isn’t she? Tenebrin shocks me from the path my thoughts were taking.

“It was supposed to make you stop talking.” I adjust the strap on my shoulder, breaking her gaze and fixing my attention back on the road. A few minutes later, the gate to Swynton comes into view.

Author Bio:

Katheryn is a software engineer in the Philadelphia area, writing fantasy and paranormal stories when she’s not fighting technology. In 2013, she graduated from King’s College in Pennsylvania with degrees in Computer Science and Professional Writing — so she’s always writing, be it software or fiction. She lives with her husband, Eric, and their furbaby, Ada.

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Guardians of the Sea
Eva Pohler
(Vampires and Gods, #3)
Publication date: May 14th 2022
Genres: Paranormal, Romance, Urban Fantasy, Young Adult

What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger.

After enduring Delphine’s dangerous training regimen, the young gods and demigods embark on a mission to take down the corrupt shipping company once and for all, to liberate victimized communities up and down the Mediterranean and nearby seas. But unforeseen conflicts cause the young gods and demigods to question the nature of their mission, their purpose, and their relationships with one another.

In the face of impossible choices, how important are love, loyalty, and friendship? Moreover, how far should one go to defend those who can’t defend themselves? Should one sacrifice everything?

Read the surprising conclusion of The Vampires and Gods Series. For lovers of Greek mythology, paranormal romance, and action adventure stories.

Here’s what readers are saying about this series:

“Vampires and Greek Mythology combined in one fabulous adventure!”–Brie Strauss, Amazon Reviewer ★★★★★

“I absolutely cannot wait for more Adventures. I tried not to read so fast but honestly I couldn’t be patient. This book blew me away and I honestly just need more.”–Southernmermaid85, Amazon Reviewer ★★★★★

“Must read!! Anything this author writes is amazing to read. It’s what got me into loving anything about the greek gods! And her vampire series is so interesting as well! This book combines both and draws you in!!”–Amazon Reviewer ★★★★★

“Everything I’ve come to love and expect from Eva’s book, was to be found in this latest episode, constant drama, intrigue and adventure, not forgetting the romance. Can’t wait for more!”–Traceyann, Amazon Reviewer ★★★★★

“I really liked the new characters that were introduced in this book. The story was interesting and had a lot of twists and turns.”–Kathy E, Amazon Reviewer ★★★★★

If you like enemies-to-lovers romance and heart-breaking love triangles combined with fast-paced, high-stakes action, then this series is for you.

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—

EXCERPT:

Gertie stood in the foyer of the great hall on Mount Olympus, waiting for Hector to finish his tour with Hephaestus. Hector had invited her to join him to see the magical forge, but she’d wanted him to have this chance to be alone with his father. She hadn’t thought about her own comfort—or lack of it as she stood there with the Olympians on their thrones only a few yards away. Although she’d earned their respect in the battle with the old man of the sea and his entourage of monsters and was about to become a goddess herself, she didn’t dare presume that she was free to speak with them.

She pushed a strand of her blonde hair behind her ear and glanced nervously at the gods before averting her eyes to her boots. Her stomach hurt, and her heart wouldn’t slow down no matter how deeply she breathed. An eternity seemed to pass when Hector finally emerged with his father.

Just seeing Hector’s face again made her less nervous. Although people often mistook them for brother and sister because they both had blond hair, blue eyes, and fair skin, fortunately for them, they weren’t, even though they were both descended from gods.

“Are you ready for the council meeting?” Hephaestus asked her.

Gertie took a deep breath. “I think so.”

“Of course, she is,” Hector said. “She hasn’t stopped talking about it for days. Have you, Gertie?”

“Are you sure you’re ready?” Hephaestus asked again.

“Yes,” she said, this time without hesitation. “I’m just a little nervous about how it will feel and how I’ll adapt. There isn’t much written about apotheosis. I feel unprepared.”

Hephaestus laughed. “Preparation has its virtues, but surprises make life exciting.”

“I like that.” Hector beamed up at his dad.

Gertie would rather be prepared.

“Good luck,” Hephaestus said as he turned to walk away.

“Thanks again for showing me around, Father,” Hector said. “I hope I’ll have the chance to see you again soon.”

The god gave Hector a polite, if not distant, nod before taking a few strides to his throne, next to Apollo and across the white marble floor from Aphrodite.

“How did it go?” Gertie whispered to Hector, who hadn’t stopped smiling since he’d emerged from the forge.

“I’ve never felt happier,” he said, his blue eyes bright. “My father has finally acknowledged me publicly and has given me more than a moment of his time. It’s a dream come true.”

“Oh, Hector.” Gertie squeezed his hand. “I’m really happy for you.”

“Thanks. Being here has made it easy for me to make a decision.”

Gertie tilted her head to one side. “What decision?”

“I want to be a god, and I’m ready to do whatever it takes to prove I’m worthy.”

Gertie’s mouth dropped open, and she felt like jumping up and down with joy. “What?”

“I know . . . I was against it before. I wanted a normal life, so I could give my kids a better childhood than the one I had. Now I know things don’t have to be the way they were with my mom—alienated from my father and from the other gods.” He circled his arm around Gertie’s waist. “We can be a part of this life here on Mount Olympus. We can be gods together.”

Gertie thew her arms around him. “Really?”

“Really.” He reached down and kissed her.

As much as Gertie enjoyed the kiss, she soon came to her senses and noticed that some of the Olympians were watching her. “I’ll make my acceptance conditional. If they want me to become the goddess of vampires, they’ll have to make you a god, too.”

Hector furrowed his brows. “What if they refuse?”

“They won’t, especially if your father speaks up for you.”

He kissed her once more, and, together, they made their way to his father’s side, to await the others.

Author Bio:

After earning her Ph.D. in English and teaching writing and literature for over twenty years, Eva Pohler became a USA Today bestselling author of over thirty novels in multiple genres, including mysteries, thrillers, and young adult paranormal romance based on Greek mythology. Her books have been described as “addictive” and “sure to thrill”–Kirkus Reviews.

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In The Trap
Jessica Cranberry
(Hazel & Maeve: The Campus Mysteries, #1)
Publication date: May 10th 2022
Genres: Adult, Mystery, Suspense

For Hazel, an introvert with a knack for people watching, campus life is awkward and hard and…lonely. That is, until she starts to let her guard down around her roommate, Maeve—who’s fun and has a wicked flair for drama. Could there be more than just a friendship here? Maybe. But Hazel has a lot of family trauma to work through before figuring out the other big parts of her life. For now, she’s just happy to have someone to talk to.

All seems to go well until a night in the Trap—the university’s green space—leads to a tense encounter with some drunk guys. When one of the guys ends up dead, Hazel is implicated, and she and Maeve set out to solve the crime before police can connect either of them to it. But how can two amateur sleuths put together a solid case to hand over to the police in time? By following the campus online diaries, that’s how.

Set at the beginning of the internet age, people are just starting to share all their deepest, darkest secrets via the World Wide Web, yet the assumption of online anonymity may be a critical mistake. As the perpetrator posts their criminal diary for public consumption, Hazel and Maeve scramble to use technology to piece together the murderer’s identity. Can they hack their way out of becoming suspects? And if so, could they ever go back to their boring majors?

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

“The rain subsided a little; its pounding beat softened to a patter, and Aunt Liddy relaxed her shoulders. She punched the radio back on, and the soothing tones of “I Can See Clearly Now” filled the car.

As Aunt Liddy hummed along, I worried a hangnail on my thumb, savoring the little sting of pain. It reminded me who I was, where I was going, and that I was doing it alone. The road stayed slick with water and sounded like its own river as we drove over and through puddles.

Suddenly, a sharp bite stole my breath as I lurched forward in my seat, the seat belt digging into my collarbone and chest. Aunt Liddy put her arm in front of me as if that would be enough to stop my head splitting against the windshield. The dashboard was mere inches from crushing the bridge of my nose.

She stomped the brakes and yelled and cursed. Bright red taillights filled our windshield, sparkling and reflecting in the last of the raindrops that hadn’t been swiped away. The back of our car started to edge around. Back and forth, fishtailing as Aunt Liddy tried to gain control. Her face flushed pink, expression strained.

Life was supposed to flash in front of my eyes, but I hadn’t lived long enough for anything to really show up. I saw my mom smiling and heard my dad laughing, and nothing more. Were they—and everything they’d been through—all my life had amounted to?

Miraculously, Aunt Liddy steadied the car. She laid on the horn. It blared long and loud.

“Did you see him? He cut me off!”

The truck in front of us was massive, with a set of mud flaps showing the curving silhouettes of two naked women. Classy. The truck driver stuck his middle finger out the window.

“Stupid dick.” Aunt Liddy drew in a deep breath. “He’s gonna get someone killed.” She turned to me. “I’m sorry. Are you okay, hun?”

I could barely breathe. My heartbeat pounded in my throat and ears. My eyes watered and felt as though they were barely in their sockets. But sure, I was fine and said as much. That stupid song continued. Its singer insisted life was all clear blue skies and obstacles could be seen from far off, which was a damn lie. Trucks came out of nowhere, and so did bad people. Red flags didn’t look like red flags until after the fact.”

Author Bio:

Jessica Cranberry lives in the Sierra Nevada foothills with her family and spends days striking a balance between parenthood, teaching, editing/proofreading, and writing–suspense novels and eclectic short stories mostly. When she’s not doing those things, she’s reading, attempting to garden, or hiking around town. She’s an okay baker, and has been known to paint on occasion.

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Unchain My Heart
Nadia Blair
(Mephisto, #2)
Publication date: TBA
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

What’s a bad girl to do when the world won’t let her be good …

With her thirtieth birthday looming, actress Natasha Bernard wants to reinvent herself as something other than Hollywood’s favorite villainess. When she hears rumors that a tell-all exposé reveals details of her love life with her rockstar ex, she decides to put a stop to it. Even if that means confronting his bandmate, Richard Mac—the man who let the world brand her with a scarlet ‘A.’

She’s his nemesis … his secret obsession … and the only woman who can incinerate his life …

Guitarist Richard Mac is a control freak, whether he’s working on a new album or using his custom leather toys in the bedroom. When “Hurricane” Natasha storms back into his life, he risks everything to claim her. But he can’t risk losing control and letting her guess his darkest secret … that she’s the one woman he’s always wanted and could never have …

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

Mac dug his cigarette case and lighter out of his pocket. For a while he smoked in blessed silence.

Movement caught his eye. A woman wandered up the beach, flirting with the waves teasing around her bare feet. In the light of the rising moon, she was all ember-bright hair and pale skin. The wind plastered her short white dress to her long legs. She waded knee-deep, laughing softly, her head tilting back as she watched a seagull gliding overhead. Something about the purity of her profile in the silver moonlight caught him. He paused for a second look, cigarette smoldering forgotten between his fingers.

A high wave crashed over her. With a yelp, she staggered back. The sodden dress clung to her skin, the white fabric gone transparent. Mac told himself he wasn’t a crude sod and he shouldn’t look.

But he did. He had a pulse, didn’t he? Her braless breasts were clearly visible beneath the flimsy fabric, the rosy nipples puckering into hard points. The sight was more erotic than if she’d bared it all to go skinny-dipping.

“Oh, bollocks! Bloody fucking fuck.” Her curses, uttered in a posh English accent, made him chuckle.

Mac strode forward as she squelched across the sand. “Here.” He offered his jacket.

She gaped at him. “Where the devil did you come from?”

“Melbourne.” It was an asinine response, but her husky voice, so at odds with her prissy accent, was doing strange things to him.

“You’re laughing at me,” she muttered as she draped the jacket over her shoulders.

Altruistic impulses were overrated. Her gorgeous curves, those lovely pink-tipped breasts, were now hidden beneath black leather.

“I am.” Somehow, a statement of the obvious seemed necessary.

“Thank you,” she murmured. “I never imagined the Pacific would be so cold.” She swept windblown hair from her face and met his eye.

As he finally got a good look at her, that tight, tangled knot within him came loose, and for the first time in ages, he could breathe. Mac tossed away his half-smoked cigarette. It spun, glowing, into the darkness.

He wanted to say, Oh, it’s you.

What he said was, “Who the fuck are you?”

She cocked her head. “Of course, you’re Richard Mac. I should have known one of Sloan’s mates would have the looks of a Viking and the manners of a caveman.” She offered her hand. Her palm was cool against his, but her touch seared straight through him. Her breath caught, as if she felt it too. When he skimmed his thumb across the pulse fluttering at her inner wrist, she trembled.

“I’m Natasha,” she said. “Sloan sent me to fetch you. Said you should stop chain-smoking and pretend to be sociable for a bit.” She glanced down at her hand, still clasped in his. With a gasp, she tugged free.

Natasha. The name roused a dim memory—Sloan going on and on about his new girl, with legs up to here and long, red hair.

Christ.

Never in all his twenty-nine years had he begrudged Sloan anything—not his poster boy good looks, or his voice, or even his effortless charm. Mac had always known his own talents complemented his mate’s. He’d always been content to let Sloan have center stage.

For the first time in twenty years, he contemplated taking something of his.

Author Bio:

Nadia Blair writes steamy contemporary romance featuring outrageous bad boys and gutsy girls who give as good as they get. She has a thing for snappy dialog, humorous situations, and swoon-worthy happily-ever-afters.

When she’s not having conversations with fictional people, she enjoys summer thunderstorms, top-shelf whiskey, and rockin’ out to a classic guitar solo.

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Sirens and Leviathans
C.D. Britt
(The Reign of Goddesses, #2)
Publication date: May 10th 2022
Genres: Adult, Urban Fantasy

Goddess of the sea
Head of the Zephyr Maritime Administration.
Spymaster.

Amphitrite has always lived in the shadows of her sisters, but the shadows are where she does her best work. Living two lives was always easy enough for the Goddess; from being a pirate ship captain chasing secrets instead of gold to an upstanding government official. She has worked alongside her spies and sirens for centuries, guarding both the sea and Halcyon.

But a war has started against the Titans, and the darkness taking over the sea is now more than she can handle alone.

West Murphy has been the golden heir all his life, making selfish choices and surrounding himself with disposable people. That was until the night an act of violence forever changed his life. Now, feeling betrayed by everyone he knows, he considers himself a hollow shell of a man with no true purpose.

Until a tsunami changes the tides of his fate forever.

Sirens and Leviathans is the second book in the Reign of Goddesses series.

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

Amphitrite stepped off the gangplank and steadied herself against the sway of the ship as waves met the hull. She looked around the deck, where her ladies were well into the process of commandeering the large vessel.

She took a deep, fortifying breath of crisp ocean air. The salty breeze revitalized her in a way nothing else could. They were still far from shore, a fact belied by the lack of birds calling out to her. She’d have enough time to handle her business here and move on before the human ships found her.

The pirates, having been rounded up by her crew, were on their knees with their wrists tied behind their backs.

Good. This was going to be easier than she thought.

The captives’ dark eyes watched them with a combination of anger and shock. Another perk of a ship full of female pirates. Men never knew what to do when faced with her crew. Did they fight the lady as they did a man? That moment of hesitation was all she and her girls needed.

Her first mate moved to stand beside her and, without prompting, gave her the lay of the land.

“A dozen men here. Twenty men, including the captain, are being held below decks.” Her first mate paused and ground her teeth. “And thirty-two in cargo.”

Amphitrite almost choked.

“Thirty-two?” She tried not to let her voice rise, but she was having difficulty. Thirty-two women sat in the ship’s hull, terrified, not knowing that their future meant being sold into a slave trade where the price was innocence and flesh.

“Yes,” she confirmed. “They are in a horrendous state. This lot,” she motioned to the men bound in front of them, “is lucky I didn’t separate their heads from their necks when I found them.”

The cadence of her first mate’s normally calm voice broke, telling Amphitrite all she needed to know about how to handle this.

“Take me to the captain,” she ordered. “Hold the men here. We will let our friends of the sea handle them soon enough and I don’t want to miss that.” She let a devious smirk cross her face as the men tied in ropes visibly paled at her reference to ‘friends of the sea’.

Oh, they knew. All the better.

Her first mate led her across the deck. As she turned toward the ship’s living quarters, she heard the tell-tale grunts of her crew taking their anger out on the newly captured men. She did not begrudge them, not if what she was walking into was anything close to what she imagined.

They stopped in front of an ornately carved door, the rich wood mismatched from the rest of the battered ship, and she knew immediately a pretentious bastard waited behind it. Her hand twitched toward her cutlass, but perhaps it was better to let him think her weaker, less able to handle herself in his presence.

Amphitrite was good at misleading people. That was what made her the best spymaster on the high seas. She was unremarkable when compared to her sisters; Persephone and Hera. She could fall back into the shadows, and she knew how to stay there. Even her sisters were ignorant of the network she’d amassed over the years and her role at its head. When her spies went to Hera with information, Amphitrite often wondered if she even questioned who’d accumulated those jewels of intelligence for her. How would that thunderous sister of hers react if she knew the truth? That she spent her days as a pirate, hunting for a treasure much greater than gold: secrets.

She stepped through the ridiculous door, her first mate following behind her, and stood before a fat, bearded man. He was strapped to his seat in the center of the small chamber. A sneer pinched his bloated face when she entered.

Amphitrite knew what he saw. A petite woman in scandalous trousers and a leather corset tied over her undersleeves. A dark blue coat large enough to suit a man twice her size. A tricorn hat with a bold feather. A gleaming cutlass. Wild red hair barely constrained in a wind-swept braid.

A menace.

A pirate queen.

The bane of his existence.

“Sea witch,” he growled, straining against his bonds.

Amphitrite shrugged. “Sea witch. Water witch. It matters not what you call me.”

The captain glowered.

“You searched him?” she questioned her first mate.

“Sadly, yes. The disgusting things I do for you…” she muttered.

Amphitrite gave her a wink and assessed the briny captain coolly.

Oh, how the tables have turned.

“And whom may I presume you are?” She smiled, but it was all teeth.

He spat on the floor near her feet. Neither she nor her first mate flinched.

“Ah!” Amphitrite held up a hand. “My apologies! I haven’t properly introduced you to my first mate! A thorough search without a name. Where are my manners?”

The woman stepped forward and Amphitrite watched the man’s weariness grow at the sight of the honey eyes and skin, the dark hair braided with colorful beads from around the world. She could have been a siren had she not been born mortal.

“Captain,” she said with flourish. “This is Medusa.”

The man jerked against the rope holding him to the chair, his eyes bulging with fear.

Amphitrite smirked at her friend. “Your reputation precedes you!”

Medusa’s beautiful face held no smile. “As it should.” Her flinty gaze was trained on the captain, who trembled violently.

“Honestly, I did not receive that same reaction.” Amphitrite pouted.

“You hide the nightmares in you. I let mine free.”

Author Bio:

C.D. Britt began her writing journey when her husband told her she needed to use her excessive imagination to write stories as opposed to creating a daily narrative for him. Ever since she penned her first words, life has been a lot more peaceful for him.

She currently resides in Texas where she has yet to adapt to the heat. Her husband thrives in it, so unfortunately they will not be relocating to colder climates anytime soon.

Their two young children would honestly complain either way.

When she is not in her writing cave (hiding from the sun), she enjoys ignoring the world as much as her children will allow with a good book, music, and vast amounts of coffee (until it’s time for wine).

C.D. Britt is the author of Shadows and Vines and the upcoming book, Sirens and Leviathans.

Both books are part of the Reign of Goddesses series.

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No Ordinary Hate
Melanie Summers & Whitney Dineen
(A Gamble on Love Mom Com, #1)
Publication date: May 5th 2022
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

Life in Hollywood is easy to hate…

According to Hollywood insiders, Harper and Brett Kennedy have the perfect family life—an image that has been carefully cultivated by an army of PR experts at Galaxy Studios. The truth is, their relationship has been on the rocks since Brett cheated when Harper was pregnant with their youngest child. Four years later, he’s still cheating, but this time with the nanny.

When the tabloids find out, a media frenzy ensues, all but making Harper and her kids prisoners in their Pacific Palisades mansion. Needing time out of the spotlight to regroup, Harper rents a cabin in the last place the press or anyone else would ever think to look for her—Gamble, Alaska.

There, she finds peace, solitude, and Digger McKenzie. Will the gruff lodge owner, who goes out of his way to make Harper feel like she doesn’t belong, realize he’s about to miss out on his one chance at happiness? Will Harper’s kids adjust to small-town life and heal from the chaos of their parents’ separation? Will Harper learn how to shoot a bear?

Find out in the deliciously funny and dishy first installment of the Love is a Gamble Mom-Com Series.

Goodreads / Amazon

—

EXCERPT:

Dear Readers,

When I was just a wee lad of twelve, I, too, became embroiled in a love triangle. Me, Stacy Ferndweller, and Landon Post. I loved the sweaters Stacy wore—which at the time I mistook for lust. And Landon filled out a pair of red polyester gym shorts like nobody’s business. What was a boy to do?

I eventually decided to ask Stacy if I could borrow a sweater—baby pink with delicate chartreuse hearts all over it. I wore it to Landon’s soccer game and cheered him on like a Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader. He was less than impressed.

After the game, Landon searched me out to delicately disclose his rampant heterosexuality. He broke my heart, but alas, not my nose, so I was grateful. I decided to set him up with Stacy.

It’s for this reason that I’m so attuned to the “two humans in love with the same man scenario.” But unlike Landon, Brett Kennedy is no hero. He’s a cheater and defiler of nannies. He’s a wild card run amok in the landmine of love.

I’m not sure there’s a gesture big enough for Harper to consider taking him back. Tip: A boombox on top of your car isn’t going to cut it, dude.

I’m skipping my workout today in favor of a good, old-fashioned mud bath. My aura needs a righteous cleanse.

Dish,

Ferris Biltmore

Harper

I hurt everywhere—my head, my eyes, my belly button. Reaching under the covers I discover that I went to bed in my jeans and the button is digging into me. Popping it open, I roll over and release a world-class groan.

“Ah, you’re up.” It’s Digger’s voice but there’s no way he’s here in my cabin. “I just put on some coffee.” How is he here in my cabin?

Memories start to filter into my consciousness and the heat of embarrassment washes over me. The question at hand is, how much of what I’m remembering really happened and how much did I dream? I say the only thing that comes to mind. “Hi.”

“Good morning to you.” He walks fully into the room before sitting on the bed next to me. “How do you feel?”

“I’m … um … not great.” Lordy, this is one gorgeous man.

“You and Moira really tied one on last night.”

Okay, so the memory about him picking me up and bringing me home is real. Now to figure out what happened after that. “So, did you … uh … that is to say … sleep here?” He smiles slightly while nodding his head. “In my room?”

“Yup.” Son of a … did he sleep in my bed? I can’t bring myself to ask. He watches me closely before pointing across the room. “Over there in the chair.”

Thank God. “Why exactly?” I’m having a devil of a time meeting his gaze.

“I was getting ready for bed when Moira called, and by the time I carried you here, I was wiped out.”

“I’m so sorry,” I mumble. “I’m not much of a drinker.” I chance a glance at him from under my lashes.

The look on his face is so intense it’s practically melting me from the inside out. “Clearly.” He stands up and walks out of the room while saying, “I’m putting your coffee in a thermos. You can drink it on your way up to the lodge.”

“No, thank you,” I call after him. “I think I’ll go back to sleep for a while.”

He walks back in, shaking his head. “You’ll feel like crap all day if you do that. What you need is some fresh air, followed by a giant breakfast to soak up all the wine.” He reaches his hand out to me.

I don’t want to take it, but I do. As he pulls, I moan. “I never get drunk.”

“Sometimes needs must. I’m guessing Brett was the last person you expected to see up here yesterday.”

Author Bio:

Whitney loves to laugh, play with her kids, bake, and eat french fries — not always in that order.

Whitney is a multi-award-winning author of romcoms, non-fiction humor, and middle reader fiction. Basically, she writes whatever the voices in her head tell her to.

She lives in the beautiful Pacific Northwest with her husband, Jimmy, where they raise children, chickens, and organic vegetables.

Gold Medal winner at the International Readers’ Favorite Awards, 2017.

Silver medal winner at the International Readers’ Favorite Awards, 2015, 2016.

Finalist RONE Awards, 2016.

Finalist at the IRFA 2016, 2017.

Finalist at the Book Excellence Awards, 2017

Finalist Top Shelf Indie Book Awards, 2017

Author links
Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram

—

Melanie Summers also writes steamy romance as MJ Summers.

Melanie made a name for herself with her debut novel, Break in Two, a contemporary romance that cracked the Top 10 Paid on Amazon in both the UK and Canada, and the top 50 Paid in the USA. Her highly acclaimed Full Hearts Series was picked up by both Piatkus Entice (a division of Hachette UK) and HarperCollins Canada. Her first three books have been translated into Czech and Slovak by EuroMedia. Since 2013, she has written and published three novellas, and eight novels (of which seven have been published). She has sold over a quarter of a million books around the globe.

In her previous life (i.e. before having children), Melanie got her Bachelor of Science from the University of Alberta, then went on to work in the soul-sucking customer service industry for a large cellular network provider that shall remain nameless (unless you write her personally – then she’ll dish). On her days off, she took courses and studied to become a Chartered Mediator. That designation landed her a job at the R.C.M.P. as the Alternative Dispute Resolution Coordinator for ‘K’ Division. Having had enough of mediating arguments between gun-toting police officers, she decided it was much safer to have children so she could continue her study of conflict in a weapon-free environment (and one which doesn’t require makeup and/or nylons).

Melanie resides in Edmonton with her husband, three young children, and their adorable but neurotic one-eyed dog. When she’s not writing novels, Melanie loves reading (obviously), snuggling up on the couch with her family for movie night (which would not be complete without lots of popcorn and milkshakes), and long walks in the woods near her house. She also spends a lot more time thinking about doing yoga than actually doing yoga, which is why most of her photos are taken ‘from above’. She also loves shutting down restaurants with her girlfriends. Well, not literally shutting them down, like calling the health inspector or something–more like just staying until they turn the lights off.

She is represented by Suzanne Brandreth of The Cooke Agency International.

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First and Forever
Eve Dangerfield
(Rebirth, #3)
Publication date: May 4th 2022
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

They’ll fake it ‘til they make it and then some…

Football player Sloan ‘Willow’ Williams has been looking for The One for years. He’s checked all the right places—and some of the wrong ones—and found sh*t all. But the moment he sees Eden Jade Cartwright, he knows she’s the girl for him.

Unfortunately, her entourage won’t let him anywhere near her…

Eden doesn’t want anything, aside from an international music career. She does, however, enjoy being worshipped, which the giant redhead seems inclined to do. But with a world tour beckoning, now isn’t the time for a boyfriend…

Willow has the perfect solution; a short, fake relationship that will boost Eden’s clout and scratch both their itches. Only he’s hoping the beautiful blonde will keep him around. And Eden’s praying she’ll be able to let him go…

First and Forever is a standalone romance by the critically acclaimed author Eve Dangerfield.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

—

EXCERPT:

The thought reverberated around Willow’s head alongside the trance beat. Her trance beat. Eden Jade—better known by her DJ name, Bunny Descent, stood behind the decks on stage, one hand raised. The lights turned her white-blonde hair to pink and her ripped wedding dress was spattered neon by the leaking glow-sticks her fans were waving.

Her perfect face was screwed in concentration as she fiddled with something on the decks. The music transitioned from a hard, pulsing beat to something Willow recognised—‘Self Care’ by Mac Miller. The crowd cheered, more people rushing toward the stage, hands raised. It was three in the morning and the tiny dance floor was thrumming.

Willow had expected the crowd to thin as the night wore on, but the opposite happened. Bunny Descent was the seventh DJ of the night, and the audience was more hyped for her than anyone else. Watching the crowd dance, he felt a surge of pride. From what he’d read in interviews, Eden was scared of not breaking through, worried her sound was too erratic for main stages. But there was no way the woman in front of him wasn’t making it big. She oozed glamour and with each and every song, he grew more amazed she wasn’t famous.

“She is a goddess,” a guy slurred in his ear. “I, like, actually fuckin’ love her.”

Willow turned and saw the guy was talking to his equally fucked up mate, but that didn’t change the fact he was vocalising his own thoughts about Eden.

I’m different, he told himself.

Why?

I just am.

That had always been the only reason he needed. People called him overconfident, but that implied he tried to be confident. He didn’t. He was just lucky. He got what he wanted.

As the music surged higher, Willow danced along with the crowd, working his weight from foot to foot. A few girls smiled, looking for someone to kiss—or maybe because they recognised him, but he only had eyes for Eden. On stage she leant forward, touching the hands of the people dancing in front of her. The second she made contact, the crowd screamed fit to burst the roof. Willow knew exactly how they felt.

He’d been scoping her Instagram for ages, but there was nothing like seeing her in real life. With her long blonde hair and big eyes, she looked like Sailor Moon—his first and most powerful crush. He watched as Eden put her hands behind her head and shook, her tits bouncing in her wedding dress. Attraction burred through him like an electric current. He’d never been so into anyone. Even Sailor Moon. What could that be but true love? As he watched her dance, he made himself a promise—come hell or high water, he’d talk to her tonight.

A hard elbow bashed his side.

“Oi,” Derek shouted over the music. “What are we still doing here? Everyone’s out of their minds.”

Willow danced away from his friend. “I dunno. I’m not tired.”

“You’re never fucking tired. Where’s the patient?”

Willow glanced around. Patrick Normal, better known as Psycho, was swaying softly beside the bar, apparently having forgotten he wanted a beer. “Psycho’s… having a time.”

Derek followed his gaze. “Fuck me, he’s maggoted.”

“Yeah, he’ll be up for hours. Better we’re still out with him, hey?”

“This is all your fault. If Mara was in town, I wouldn’t be here.”

“Yeah, yeah. You’ve made it clear you’ll be dogging the boys from now on, Hardo.”

The track Eden was playing bled into a remix of that Rasputin, love machine song. The dancers packed around the stage, jumping so hard the floor shook. Eden swished her white-blonde hair over her shoulder and his cock throbbed. He could see her doing that while she rode him—looking down her nose as he worked to make her come.

His side burst with pain. He rubbed it, glaring at Derek. “What’s your problem?”

“You. You’re making gorilla noises.”

“You could hear that?”

“Of course, I…” A look of barely concealed terror dawned on Derek’s face. A look Willow knew all too well. He backed away in case Derek decided to put him in a headlock. “What have I done now?”

Derek pointed at the stage. “Please tell me we’re not here because you want to fuck that DJ?”

Willow gave him a winning smile. “Do you want a drink?”

“I wanna know if you dragged me all the way to the city to watch you fail to pick up a DJ.”

Author Bio:

Eve Dangerfield has loved romance novels ever since she first swiped her grandmother’s paperbacks. Now she writes her own stories about complicated women and gorgeous-but-slightly-tortured men. Her work has been described as ‘genre-defying,’ ‘insanely hot’ and ‘the defibrillator contemporary romance needs right now’…and not just by herself or those who might need bone marrow…OTHER PEOPLE! She lives in Melbourne with her boy and a bunch of semi-dead plants. She can generally be found making a mess.

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