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Book 1 of Sawyer Shepherd Chronicles

Young Adult Supernatural Thriller

Date Published: 2/4/2020

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Sage City, Colorado is a beautiful but struggling town. Its mining history has dried up, leaving it only with a dark local legend that may just be more history than myth. But an East Coast developer named Lucius Furr and his team, including Lennox Dupree and Elena Cordova, might just bring salvation- or awaken a long-dormant evil.

Sawyer Shepherd is on a road trip of self-discovery- and running from a tragic past. He hopes to find himself and healing from the loss of his parents while in the deadly beauty of the Colorado Rockies. He soon finds himself caught up not only in Furr’s plans for the small town, but also an ancient and epic battle between good and evil. Guided by locals Eli Romer (the 'town drunk' that knows more than he lets on) and Mandy Jane (college intern with the Parks Service), Sawyer will seek to overcome the demons of his past while also trying to survive a real-life demon that seeks only to consume.

Or is it also trying to open the door for an even greater and more powerful evil?

Excerpt

Steve shrugged and launched into the story. “Hezekiah Romer was a prospector that came to Sage City- or the loose collection of people that would become Sage City- during the Silver Boom here in the 1870s. A lot of folks came, and it was a rough town. In the fall of 1876, an early snowfall and subsequent avalanche blocked the township off from aid. The blizzards were relentless, and food got scarce. Some folks started to turn up dead and apparently...somewhat consumed by something or someone. Then more and more. Before long, there wasn’t many folks left. One was a local pastor that had come to town to save them from “greed and damnation.” Name of Horace Goodley. People started to suspect it was Goodley that was killing and eating folks. Legend has it, the town asked Hezekiah-” Eli laughed a dark laugh and looked at Steve, shaking his head. “--Okay, volunteered?” Eli looked back to the rubble, still shaking his head. While Eli had been showing his disapproval of this revisionist history, one of the “geologists” walked to the rubble. He then inspected it close enough to touch- which he did despite Eli’s warning- near the mineshaft opening. Sawyer caught this quick approach, but he was the only one. By the time Eli turned back to his vigil, the man was a reasonable distance away. And backing up.

“Anyway,” Steve continued, “Hezekiah acted as bait and got the pastor to chase him up the mountain to this mineshaft they had just opened before the snow started. We only have Hezekiah’s account, but apparently, there was a struggle, and Goodley was knocked into the open mineshaft. Then Hezekiah blew it shut with dynamite. Apparently, they felt guilty about outright killing him, so they decided to lock him in a cave and let him starve to death far enough outside of town they couldn’t hear his screams.”

Furr was shaking his head. “Human nature. It’s a funny thing. Of course, the irony that they killed the cannibal by starvation has a nice poetry to it. So, how did you happen to get this land where your ancestor proved himself such a hero, Mr. Romer?”

Eli clearly wouldn’t answer, so Steve did. “When Sage City was incorporated, the town charter decreed that as long as an heir of Hezekiah Romer lived and wanted it, this land was theirs for a homestead. Eli here is the fifth generation to call this land home. You could say it us his birthright.”

Sawyer noticed that Eli was looking at him, and in a flash of realization, he understood that Eli was the man in the dream he had just had. There were no snowdrifts, but it was the location, and Eli was the man.

Just then, a single snowflake landed on Ranger Steve’s shoulder. It was followed by a couple more friends, then a full-on snowfall.

Ranger Steve looked up at the white stuff coming in from the sky. Then he looked at his watch. “Yep, October 25th, right on time for the first snowfall. And by the looks of it, it’s going to be a big--”

An explosion from the mineshaft cut Ranger Steve off. In slow motion, Sawyer saw everyone around him seem to lift off the ground and fly away from the flames and advancing rubble flying through the air. He hit the ground about ten feet from where he was and slid into a pine tree trunk. As he lost consciousness, he saw the hole where the mineshaft and scratched stones had been.

He thought he saw eyes-green eyes- from inside the dark hole.

Then everything was just dark.

About the Author

The only child of a family that lived on a ranch in the Central Texas Countryside, Chad Lehrmann learned early on to use his imagination to entertain himself. Creating stories in his head and acting them out eventually led to him entertaining the idea to write stories. He began this process in his teens, but life got in the way. After eleven years in ministry, Chad became a public school teacher in College Station, Texas. Working with teenagers (and raising two of his own), he began to read young adult fiction like Harry Potter and Percy Jackson. Combined with his love of the works of Stephen King, Chad began to recall those stories and ideas from his youth, but with a new perspective. Tired of explaining to his students that if he was not a teacher, he would be a writer, but doing nothing to validate that- he penned his first novel, The Sawyer Shepherd Chronicles: Rites of Passage. It would be the culmination of characters and story beats that had been germinating in his head for over twenty years. He hopes you will join him on this journey!

Chad still teaches at College Station High School, where he is currently the Psychology, Sociology, and Debate teacher. He is married and has two teenage daughters and as a family they love vacationing in the mountains (which are a strong inspiration for the stories he writes). He also has hobbies of woodworking and collecting action figures.

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Savor This by Ariella Talix Release Blitz

5/14/2020

Lovers in Louisville, Book Three

Contemporary Romance

Published: May 2020

Publisher: Ringmaster Publishing

In this passionate and unpredictable story, Halden Dahl is a successful glass artist and total ladies’ man. Handsome and talented with an ego as big as all outdoors, has he finally met a woman who will bring him to his knee?

Madison Lassiter is the new girl in town, and as soon as Halden lays eyes on her, he wants her. Halden has always been a thrill-seeker with a strong sense of wanderlust, so Madison has her doubts that he’s the man for her despite their obvious chemistry.

From the age of seven, Madison has been laser-focused on establishing a successful millinery business. It’s time now for her to branch out from her tiny hometown of Honeybee Hollow to the big city of Louisville, Kentucky.

She’s ready for new experiences, but is she ready for Halden?

Suitable for adult readers due to HOT content.

Previous Books in the Series

About the Author

Ariella Talix is the nom de plume of a genteel and creative lady who lives in America's Heartland.

Her goal is to preserve the dignity of family members who would rather not be associated publicly with a woman who writes such scandalous and stimulating novels. She's not going to stop writing them though.

She loves her family, pets, great books, not-so-great books that still entertain, and art.

Born and raised near the beaches of southern California, Ariella Talix traveled the world extensively and then found her true home in the Midwest. She has a second-degree black belt in Karate and has been a professional artist for many years. Her work is displayed in countries all over the world.

A sudden brainstorm prompted the first of her novels, Make Believe, and since then the ideas just keep tumbling out like an avalanche.

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Fire & Ice by Victoria R. Maybury Book Blitz

5/13/2020

Young Adult Fantasy

Date Published: April 15, 2019

Publisher: Halo Publishing International

Fire and Ice is a fantasy young adult novel that follows a young woman on a big adventure, filled with love, mystery, and suspense.

Ash is forced into an arranged marriage, which does not turn out for the better, causing her to take refuge with the man she was supposed to marry. From there, she tries to find her parents' true murderers while surviving their attempts to find her. During this journey, she must fight her feelings for the man she believes to have killed her parents and his friends who accept her with open arms.

Excerpt

It was another bright and pleasant day, and yet the mood was somber despite the many voices that tittered happily in the Cartier Castle. The castle was very old and had not been overtaken for many centuries. It was maintained very well, and its many well-washed windows were in perfect condition. It was through one of these windows that a young woman was staring from her bedroom into the fields beyond the black onyx walls. The young woman normally hated black, but today it felt right that the walls were weeping with her. Her hair was in a shaggy double braid that she had slept in. She pulled on it with a scorched and scarred hand while she gazed at the sky. She was hoping He would heed her silent prayer for peace and protection as she entered a new and unwanted phase in her life. Her name was Ash Cartier, and it wasn’t the first time she wished that she wasn’t the daughter of a wealthy and important chieftain in Dasica. Her country promoted itself as a place of peace and prosperity, but Ash knew better.

When she was younger[LB1] , she had accompanied her mother to a local market to look at unnecessary baubles that her mother, Marie, wanted for a festival. Her mother had found some strange pin that “talked to her,” as she would always say when she wanted something. While waiting for her, Ash had gone exploring and had met an old man with a face that spoke of many happy times as well as of hard times.

He had looked at her with a twinkle in his green eyes. “Do you want to hear something beautiful, little one?” he had asked her. A sweet smile had crossed his face, showing a mouth of clean teeth, although a few were missing.

She had nodded and he had told her of a man who was not just a man but who had loved everyone in the world. This man had wanted to save them from what was to come so he had died to protect them. The man’s green eyes had moistened as he told this story, making Ash think it was more than a fictional tale.

At the end of the story, Ash had asked if they were safe because of what this man, named Joshua, had done. The man had shaken his head sadly and replied that there was something that they had to do if they wanted to be safe forever. He had said that they had to relinquish their control over their lives and become part of His family. Confused, Ash had questioned how they could be part of a dead man’s family, but the old man had smiled and tapped her head, praising her as a thinker. He then had explained that even though Joshua had been a man, he was also something else. The man then had looked around them to see if anyone was listening and pulled Ash close enough to whisper in her ear that Joshua is also the Creator!

Ash had sucked in a breath. Even though she had only been five years old at the time, she knew that talking about gods could get you into serious trouble, and could even be viewed as treason against the leaders, because it affirmed that they weren’t in total control.

The man had slipped a giant book into her small hands, telling her to read it in order to learn more about Joshua. He also had warned her to not show anyone the Book. She had nodded and had just hidden the Book when her mother had called for her. (After Ash’s departure, her mother had bought three other pins aside from the first one that had “spoken to her.”) The man had grabbed her arm as she turned and had told her to find him if she ever wanted to talk more about the story.

She had nodded again and run to where her mother was standing, looking for her. Marie admonished Ash not to wander off and they soon had returned home to the twelve-towered castle. Once there, Ash had run to her room and locked the door, in order to start reading the interesting book in safety.

From that book, she learned about how the world came to exist, and much more. It had taken her an entire month of reading to go through it one time. Not satisfied with that, she continued to read it over and over, sprawled on her bed, trying to understand the Creator better. As she learned more and grew up, Ash continued to meet with and talk to the old man as much as possible.

Ash looked at the bed and smiled seeing the indent of where she had always sprawled to read the Book. Then her smile faltered as her blue eyes turned to look at her hands covered in white, luminescent scars. They were slightly lighter than her already-fair skin. She had gotten the scars from being burned, as a punishment for disobeying her father. Her eyes released a few rivulets of water that she let drip down her face. There was a knock at her door, and she looked at the clock on her wall above the writing desk. It was time. She sighed and straightened up. She was nineteen, not six, and slouching would not be acceptable.

“Come in, please,” she said in her soft, lilting Glaydin accent, mimicking how a lady should speak, or at least as her mother said ladies should speak. Since the royal court was situated far away in the capital of Dasica, Ash had never actually heard someone from the court speak.

Ash was not surprised when her mother came in with her three ladies’ maids. However, she was surprised to see Carmel Baum, the woman who had been her trainer until the day before, as well. Her old trainer smiled at her gently. “Gillith Preslar sends his condolences for not being able to come to the wedding today, but wishes you all happiness on your special day,” Carmel informed Ash in her thick eastern accent.

Tears of fear and anguish pricked Ash’s eyes, but she nodded to Carmel. She met her trainer’s red eyes in the mirror while the maids took off her shift and began to usher her to the steaming tub of water with essential oils to cleanse her. The trainer clapped her hand on Ash’s now-bare shoulder and left. Ash smiled, feeling some warmth enter her. That small action held more meaning than anything the old fighter could have said, which wasn’t surprising since Carmel had been hired for her fighting ability, not for her way with words. Ash realized that she was much like that, even though she had a fiery temper that needed to be constantly reined in.

Ash finally focused on her mother, who was delivering commands to the maids at a rapid pace. Marie wore a dress that left her shoulders uncovered, with the straps hanging just off the shoulders very fashionably. The bodice hugged her mother’s tall, but slim, body and puffed out into a ballroom-like skirt that fell almost to the floor. The dress was a green velvet with silver thread that matched her short bob and which was woven into the material in order to create fancy designs that meant absolutely nothing. Marie also wore a tripled-tiered necklace with jade beads and figurines, as well as a matching brooch, earrings, and hair comb. Ash rolled her eyes at the excessive nature of her mother, which she had never understood. The maids were also wearing their special clothes under protective white aprons.

“I guess everyone is waiting on me to get clothed and be led to the slaughter,” grumbled Ash.

Her mother’s dark brown eyes shot toward her. “Do not say such things, child! You should be happy. This is your wedding day. At least pretend to be,” said Marie, her dark eyes twinkling with something akin to joy.

Ash met her gaze as the maids finished cleaning her from head to toe. “I’ll pretend to enjoy it as much as you pretend to care for me,” she replied, her anger unleashing slightly. “If you did care, you wouldn’t have encouraged Father to accept this horrid man’s proposal. You simply want to get rid of your embarrassing daughter who believes in such treasonous thoughts. So, what better way of accomplishing that than by throwing her into the hands of a man who is loyal only to himself?”

Marie’s eyes flashed dangerously, and the maids paused nervously before continuing their work. “First, you have never met him. However, it is true that I would rather die than spend another day knowing you believe in such stupidity! Third, you were never a lady! You would rather learn about swordsmanship than the rules of court. You are too reckless, Ash, and I will not have you in this house. So, yes, I helped encourage your father to ally with the most powerful man on this side of the mountains. Trading you for substances we needed was an easy decision to make,” admitted Marie as she swept out of the room. “Make sure she’s ready!” was all she said, and then she was gone.

Ash’s jaw dropped. She knew this was a political alliance and a way to silence her, but she didn’t know she was being sold! The maids dried her off and added creams and lotions to her skin in order to cover her scars for the day. Then Ash finally spotted the dress, and her heart sank. It was a monstrosity of white satin and tulle! She didn’t mind dresses and liked to look nice, but this dress was floor-length and filled with little fancy baubles that could pay off all the debts that the Cartier family had! More than that, it looked like a prison, to keep Ash from trying to escape.

She sent up a quick prayer for guidance as the maids applied makeup to her naked body. It was a vain attempt to cover the rest of the scars from the accidents during training under Carmel, as well as from other times. The maids then put her in the three pairs of underclothes, and, lastly, the dress. They finished the fine makeup work last of all. When they were finally done, the maids ushered her to the floor-length mirror, where she finally got to see herself. Ash gasped at what she saw. Though the dress was huge, it made her look like a princess, and the makeup made her blue eyes look like burning spheres. Her hair was kept down but had a braided crown with small blue flowers woven in.

Ash turned to the maids, who were beaming. “Thank you!” she said as she took their hands. “You did a wonderful job, and I will pray for you when I go to my new house.”

The maids smiled and nodded, quickly filing out of the room; the last one wiping her eyes a bit. Ash smiled. She was going to miss them, even though they didn’t believe what she did. They were kind, but distant, as if she would infect them with treasonous thoughts. Ash knew she could not do so, but everyone seemed to fear that she would.

She stared at her room and then glanced out the door to see if anyone was coming. For once, the ornate hallway was silent. She crossed to her desk and took out of a secret compartment the Book the old man had given her so long ago. She slipped it into a hidden pocket and turned as she heard muffled footsteps coming down the hall. A few moments later, her father, Lucas Cartier III, appeared in her doorway. She resembled her dad more than she did her mother. She had her father’s brown hair, though his hair had turned fully silver now, along with same fair skin and tall build. Her stubbornness came from her mother, but that was about it. Her father also had a burn scar that ran from the left side of his forehead to his left nostril, and they shared the same energetic blue eyes. Ash looked into her father’s eyes now and saw a look that she had only seen once before: pity. It chilled her to the bone, and she took a slight step back to gather her thankfully-plain-white gloves. She met his gaze once again, and Lucas nodded. It was time.

Their walk through the old castle to the throne room was oddly comforting to Ash. She had walked through these halls many times, normally so quietly that she was like a shadow, which gave her the title “Shadowwalker” in warrior circles. Unfortunately, she wasn’t a warrior now, but rather a mess being handed over to someone who could “clean her up.” Ash shuddered at the thoughts those words brought her, but she knew there was nothing she could do. She had to honour her family’s wishes and pray that she could hold on to what she knew to be right. Soon they were at the large double doors of the throne room and she could hear the music swelling. In a few seconds, her father would escort her into the hands of her new husband. Her stomach twisted at the thought of being with that man, and even though she hadn’t heard much about him, what she had heard made her nervousness skyrocket. She inhaled and exhaled slowly, trying to rid herself of the feeling, and prayed for the third time that day for guidance and safety. Her stomach settled slightly. The heavy doors were open, and the one who was supposed to care for and protect her led her like a lamb to the slaughter.

Ash looked at the throne room. She had been in here many times but every time it amazed her, and this time it was decorated for the occasion. There were lustrous braziers that circled the sixteen columns and cast a golden light on the walls of the room, which was decorated with garlands of lilacs and lilies. A sanguine rug ran down the centre of the room to the doors, splitting the round room in half, with long wooden benches on either side of it. There was a chestnut throne at the front of the room but it was not in use that day.

The rug seemed endless as Ash and her father slowly walked down it. Ash turned and looked at the ceiling, where there was a small skylight that was surrounded by legends and stories telling the Cartier history. Ash finally looked at the people on the raised dais. There was Adam Firedraft at the front: the head elder under her father, the chieftain. He had brown dreadlocks that always fell over his full-but-charming face. He had brown, almost black, eyes that were set far back in his head, making him seem like a snake. He stood a head shorter than the man beside him.

Ash turned her gaze toward the man who she was to call husband and saw shuttered brown eyes that gave her an icy chill. He possessed caramel skin and long, wavy, brown hair that was tied with a simple, black-leather tie. He was half a head taller than her and wore a black suit with a white vest and blue cravat for the occasion. He did not look like the monster that she had imagined, but rather like a man who simply wanted to finish the deal and leave.

Behind him were three people—guards, most likely, due to the fact that they were bristling with weaponry. First, there was a man taller than her almost-husband, with shaggy but well-groomed golden hair and a half-feral face. His golden eyes resembled a griffin’s as they watch their prey, and he stood with the grace of one who understands power. The lady behind him was at the opposite end of the spectrum. She had wavy, green hair that fell into a low bun, with a few strands framing her naturally cheerful face. She was quite short compared to her companion, with the top of her head only reaching his shoulder. Ash wondered if she was a half-elf, but her eyes gave away that she was a full elf, due to them being a violet colour. She winked at Ash and gave her a smile, which buoyed her spirit slightly. Given the situation, Ash responded with a slight smile and looked to see the man beyond her. He had silver hair that had nothing to do with his age and had a set of piercing amber eyes that made him seem insightful as he continued to gaze around the room. He was closer to the height of the golden-haired one than the girl but looked to be just as deadly as the other two. All three were dressed in black clothing with cravats, or a sash in the girl’s case, that matched the groom’s clothing.

Finally, Ash and her father made it to where Elder Adam stood. Lucas smiled and nodded at the elder and proceeded to place his daughter’s gloved hands into her future husband’s. Lucas went and sat with his wife, and the ceremony began. It started with the story of how George Cartier I had chosen his bride by lining up all the village women and choosing the one who was the most gentle. This story Ash knew by heart because it had always been told at any event that she had ever gone to. George had decreed that every child in the Cartier line must be wed in the throne room, whether male or female. Ash wished that he had decreed that they must consent to the marriage, but it seemed like the days of chivalry were a thing of the past. She focused on her breathing, and the elder’s droning became background noise.

She almost missed it when he asked her the only question in the entire ceremony that she had to answer. “Ash ‘Shadowwalker’ Cartier, will you promise to care for Fross ‘Slayer’ Arcop for as long as you have breath?”

She sucked in a quiet breath and looked up from where her gaze had been burning a hole into the floor, and looked at the elder and then at Fross. Fross is a stupid name, she thought. When she met his gaze, he raised his eyebrows, looking slightly perplexed at her hesitation, and she realized that this man should be approached with care. Keeping her gaze there, she began to answer the elder, but just as she opened her mouth there was a loud, resounding crash, followed by the sound of an explosion.

The throne room shook and was filled with smoke, dust, and the screams of people. Ash was roughly handed off by someone and dragged through the mess.

There were the sounds of gunshots and of swords cutting people down as Ash was taken away. By the time she saw who had grabbed her, they were almost to her room. The green-haired lady pushed her into her room and locked the door, not saying a word, and ran away, the carpet muffling her footsteps.

Ash was in shock. Who would want to ruin the wedding? she wondered as she started to react. She slipped out of her dress and threw the Book and a few other items into a knapsack that she tied to her waist, on top of the pants and long-sleeved shirt that she had thrown on. They were mismatched, but at that moment Ash didn’t care. She was getting out, and fast! Then she tied her bedsheets together to form a makeshift rope, tied the rope to a bedpost, and stepped out of the window. She quickly scaled down the tower and was able to jump to the outer black wall and slide down into a grassy plain.

Ash was free. She quickly walked away, pulling her hood and scarf up over the masterpiece that the maids had done. They are probably dead now. The thought popped into her head and she quickly shoved it away. Ash had to stay free. She could mourn the dead later. They probably were dead even if Ash didn’t want to accept that just yet. Her father had always been light on guards and warriors due to the fact that they would like to get paid for their work. So they had only had four guards, Carmel Baum, and a young warrior, Gillith Preslar, who had become Ash’s best—and only—friend. She and Gill had grown up together under Carmel’s training, and he was like a brother to her.

Now she worried about him. If he comes back, what will he do? Should I leave a message for him or just pray that he finds his way? She decided to go to the old hunting house, which she knew was nearby, and, hopefully, he would figure out where she was. She smiled a real smile for the first time that day and slowed down a bit to enjoy her newfound freedom, even though it had come at a terrible cost.

Then there was a shout. “Hey, you! Come back to your wedding!” a rough, male voice shouted.

Ash froze. Was she caught? How had they found her? Then she looked at her hands and saw that she still wore the gloves. She chided herself for her stupidity and bolted into the woods. As she reached the entrance to the forest, an ironic thought popped into her head: She was now being in hunted in the woods where she had once been a hunter.

About the Author

Upcoming teen author Victoria R. Maybury grew up in Togo, West Africa where she learned about many cultures and ways of life that can be seen in her writing today. After she and her family moved to Canada, Maybury was inspired by a dream to compose her first book.

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His Small-Town Girl by Lacy Williams Book Release Blitz

5/12/2020

Sutter’s Hollow Book 1

Sweet Romance

Date Published: May 12, 2020

She’s sweet and wholesome. And hiding something.

He’s back home, resurrecting old ghosts.

One of them is going to get hurt.

Molly arrives in Sutter’s Hollow out of gas and out of options. The rundown ranch seems like a perfect place to hide. Except the man who owns it seems just as dangerous as what’s chasing her.

Cord’s mantra growing up? Get out of Sutter’s Hollow. Now he’s back in town, but only long enough to get rid of his grandma’s ball and chain—the ranch. He doesn’t need a complication like Molly, who reminds him of an injured baby bird. He’s no protector. So why can’t he tell her to get lost?

Excerpt

Molly strummed her guitar lightly, the squeak and pull of the strings familiar and comforting.

But not enough to relax her to the point where she could close her eyes and sleep.

Nothing was these days.

She had her shoulder wedged against her driver's side door, her body turned sideways, and one booted foot up on the seat. Counting the minutes until they turned into hours.

It wasn't that late. Eight. Maybe eight-thirty.

From where her truck had died in his drive, she'd seen the rancher's truck—its headlights, rather—drive up behind the ranch house and then shut off. Lights had gone on inside the ranch house in a sort of pattern. Her imagination told her he'd stopped in the kitchen to wash up. Maybe feed the dog. He'd moved into the living room next. Watched a sitcom. No, a cop drama. A sitcom might make him smile, and that wouldn't do.

The living room light had gone off, too, and then an upstairs light had gone on.

Lots of nightlife for the rancher. Cord.

She let her head loll back against the seat, her fingers going lax on the frets so the next strum was a jangle of wrong notes.

It was going to be a long night.

Her thoughts began to unravel. Her breathing sped up as her anxiety spiked.

No.

She was safe here.

No one knew where she was. No one except the rancher.

She was parked plenty far back from the road. If anyone turned in the drive, she'd see them. She'd have time to react.

There were two empty fields on either side of her truck. Grass as far as the eye could see. No one could sneak up on her here.

She could worry about her future tomorrow. Figure out what to do about the dwindling loaf of bread and jar of peanut butter she'd been rationing for days.

She jumped when a flash of light came through the windshield. It glared right in her eyes, temporarily blinding her.

She scrambled to get the guitar out of the way. It echoed discordant notes as it hit the dash. She'd picked up a small canister of pepper spray at a gas station a hundred miles ago. Where had she put it—?

The light was gone, and she blinked against the hazy afterimages burned into her vision.

It was the rancher. His shoulders filled the driver's side window, and he tapped the butt of his flashlight on the glass.

She took her sweet time rolling it down—the hand crank helped with that—using the moments to try to slow her frantic breathing.

"What're you doing out here?"

His voice was harsh and demanding. And somehow comforting. He'd been gruff and dismissive earlier. She'd trusted him. Maybe that was stupid.

"You can't stay here," he said.

"I can't leave." She tapped the steering wheel. "This puppy is dead."

Skepticism was written all over his face.

"You want me to prove it?" She gave the key a twist. Nothing happened. Not even a click.

His expression didn't change from the frown he'd appeared with. “Call a tow truck."

He had to be kidding. A tow from the little town she'd passed would be expensive.

"Who's gonna come all the way out here tonight?" she asked. "Plus, I'm dead broke."

"Well, you can't stay out here." Was that her imagination, or was there a little bit of the same desperation she felt leaking out of the man.

"It's fifteen miles to Sutter's Hollow," she said. "You want me to walk? In the dark?"

"What about your family?"

"Don't have any." It wasn't a lie. She didn't have any family that would help her.

Even in the dim light from the flashlight, she could see a muscle jumping in his cheek. He ducked his head and mumbled something too low for her to make out.

"Get out of the truck."

She bristled at this order. She wasn't walking down those winding dirt roads in the dark.

"You're not sleeping in your truck. You can stay the night. Tomorrow morning, I'll drive you to town. You're on your own from there. And you better figure out a way to get your truck off my land."

"Really?" She grabbed her backpack and guitar from the passenger floorboard and then juggled both on her lap as she rolled up the crank window. The door made an awful metal creak when she moved to hop out. She caught the cowboy's wince in the dim light from his flashlight.

"That truck is older than you are."

"I know. Ain't it great?" She tried to cover up her nerves by giving the hood an affectionate pat as she shifted her backpack onto her shoulder. Maybe he wouldn't see how white her knuckles were as she clutched her guitar. "She was my mom's. Back before I was born."

He mumbled something else. Maybe he had a mumbling problem. Or maybe he just didn't like her.

"Just because something is old or needs work doesn't mean you give up on it," she said.

He sent her a sideways glare but didn't say anything else. She followed him toward the sad old farmhouse, careful to keep a good yard between them.

From the porch, his farm dog wagged its tail.

Seeing it helped settle the nervous energy jangling through her. Animals were a true judge of character. The farm dog was lean but groomed. It's teeth were good. And it was friendly.

Maybe she couldn't trust herself to judge a man's character, but she'd grown up on a ranch. She could trust the dog. It wasn't as if she was going to sleep a wink anyway. Might as well be warm inside instead of freezing in her truck.

Author Lacy Williams

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Bear with Me by Marilyn Barr Book Teaser

5/12/2020

Strawberry Shifters Book 1

Paranormal Romance

Date Published: 6/3/2020

Publisher: The Wild Rose Press

Blue eyes, dimples, and silky brown hair; Grant Luther has all of Alison's weaknesses.

When he asks for one last chance to save their marriage, she agrees to relocate their family to isolated Strawberry, Kentucky in pursuit of his career dreams. Grant views Alison's sensory issues as limitations and protects her from outside threats. When he finds his new job includes changing him into a shifter in a war against the soul-sucking Sluagh he vows to keep the changes a secret. What he doesn't know is Alison has been hiding a magical secret of her own. One that makes her a target of the Sluagh.

Will Alison emerge from Grant's shadow to protect her family? And can Grant learn that being different can be a strength not a weakness?

#Strawberryshifters

Strawberry Full Moon is coming 6/3/2020-6/5/2020!

Excerpt

“You look perfect. I mean perfectly healthy. I mean mostly uninjured,” she stammers. She places her tiny hand over her eyes.

Feeling braver than ever, I walk right up to her. I gently remove the hand from her face and hold it to my own. “See, I’m fine,” I whisper as I gently rub my thumb over her tiny knuckles.

Her eyes lift to mine and lock our gazes. I have always found the golden color of her eyes fascinating but never studied them up close. They are light brown with a golden star in the middle. I am literally star gazing as she takes in the injuries to my face. We stand there for about a minute, lost in time.

I wonder if she is thinking about when we first started dating, the hard times that followed, the present, or the future. I search her face for clues but don’t want to break the spell by opening my mouth. I decide to put said mouth to better use by lowering my head toward hers.

About the Author

Marilyn Barr currently resides in the wilds of Kentucky with her husband, son, and rescue cats. When engaging with the real world, she is collecting characters, empty coffee cups, and unused homeschool curricula.

She has a diverse background containing experiences as a child prodigy turned medical school reject, biodefense microbiologist, high school science teacher, homeschool mother of a savant, and advocate for the autistic community.

She would love to hear from readers via her website: www.marilynbarr.com.

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World for the Broken by Elexis Bell Blog Tour & Giveaway

5/11/2020

1 Comment

Dark Post-apocalyptic Romance

Date Published: 4/21/2020

Fading into unconsciousness, Christian watches psychotic thugs drag his sister-in-law and nephew away to suffer in the city they just escaped. Left for dead near his brother’s corpse, he has but one hope for survival, rely on the pretty stranger who stumbled across him. Not exactly smart after the apocalypse.

Encumbered by the lingering effects of her own violent past, Chloe struggles against her need for independence. Trusting a stranger found lying in the snow is risky, to say the least. Yet, she patches him up.

As they strive to rebuild their hearts, the harsh world they’ve been thrust into promises to tear them apart. Because Christian’s rescue attempt can’t wait. Every second in Chloe’s idyllic hometown means another second of pain for Christian’s family, leaving Chloe with a choice. Risk her life to help Christian save his family? Or condemn them all to a slow death?

About the Author

Elexis Bell is a quiet nerd with too many hobbies, including everything from gaming to shower-singing and even archery, weather permitting. She specializes in sarcasm and writing stories that make people feel. She's made a home for herself with her husband, their dog, and a small army of cats.

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End Average by Ryan Hansen Blog Tour

5/11/2020

Christian, Personal growth

Date Published: March 3, 2020

Publisher: Lucid Books

Everything we do either gets us closer to or further away from becoming the husbands our wives deserve, the fathers our kids need, and, ultimately, the men God intends us to be. 'End Average' is a reality check for men identifying as Christians. Ryan Hansen dives into what it takes to achieve permanent heart change that leads to balanced and consistent growth in faith, relationships, health, and finances. Through examples from his own hard-learned lessons and from wisdom found in the Bible, you'll see what faith in action looks like between Sunday sermons. 'End Average' will challenge you to start living with intentionality and purpose as you seek to glorify God in everything you do.

About the Author

Ryan Hansen is a coffee-loving author and speaker with a calling to help those around him find Jesus. He is married to his lovely wife, Jenna, and together they are raising their four children in California. After growing up as a missionary kid in Italy and Germany, Ryan joined the U.S. Army and spent eight years as a paratrooper with the 82nd Airborne Division and as a psychological operations staff sergeant. After leaving the Army, he earned an MBA while pursuing a sales career in the medical industry. Aside from daydreaming about being able to one day play the guitar well, Ryan spends his time playing with his kids, improving his beer-brewing abilities, and (unsuccessfully) talking his wife out of more Disneyland trips.

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The Last Siren by EE Sample Book Blitz

5/11/2020

Literary Fiction

Published: September 2019

Publisher: Luminare Press

He watched her go and felt the chill of the mist blowing in from the Gulf. It fell on his face and mingled with the faint tear that he couldn't suppress. An elderly couple made their way up the sidewalk and past him on their way inside. They held each other close, huddled beneath a large golf umbrella. He wondered how long they had been together and how long they had left to share their lives. "Think it will rain?" he asked, trying his best to sound cheery. "If it doesn't, it's missed a good chance," the old man replied as they trudged past. Matthew St. James stood in the rain and contemplated missed chances as the Florida sky echoed with the roll of faraway thunder. He had never felt so empty.

About the Author

EE Sample is an accomplished musician and composer of film music. He currently resides in Florida with his wife and son. This is his first novel.

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In My Dreams by T.A. Moorman Release Blitz

5/10/2020

Underlayes, Book 3

Supernatural Suspense, Paranormal Romance

Release Date: May 10, 2020

Publisher: GothicMoms Studios

Reina and Ricardo have a relationship that’s as close to perfect as one can get. Coming home after a romantic honeymoon, they’re ready to settle down and begin their life together.

But when Reina literally bumps into someone from her past, their future turns into a thing of uncertainty, and her life begins to unravel. Things are no longer as they seem when this dangerous stranger embeds himself into their lives.

Will this vampire and his bride survive a wizard bound and determined to recreate his obedient mate from a past life? Or will they show him that sometimes the past is best left buried?

***Part of the Underlayes series, but can be read as a standalone.***

Excerpt

I don’t know why so many people always wish they had a do over in life. I mean, I guess I get it in a way. And probably more-so would if what happened to me hadn’t happened. But it did.

I have no memory of the life I led before being turned. Ricardo, my Fated One, and I had been together for only a year, but it felt like I knew him for much longer than that. He said that memory loss was something that sometimes happened to the newly turned. I took his word for it, since that’s not exactly something you can just look up on Google without finding a bunch of nonsense. And we stayed in a pretty tight-lipped community, amongst others like us. But no one delved into anyone else’s business. There were some we were friendly with, but not really friends. He said the night he turned me I had been on the brink of death, that he had found me in an alley left for dead. That he knew me before in passing, and couldn’t just let me die. We’ve been together ever since.

I woke up after having yet another dream that felt like much more than just that, with my entire body feeling as if I had just done an entire triatholon the night before. I sat up and put my head in my hands, my head feeling like it was in a vice grip from hell. It had been happening for the past few weeks, and had been getting worse instead of better.

I climbed out of bed, careful to not wake Ricardo. It was early still, but I had no intentions of going back to sleep, no way was I risking having another one of those dreams. They hurt too much to wake up from. They weren’t nightmares, far from it, but when I woke up they were fragments I couldn’t manage to piece together. But for some reason I almost always found myself if not in pain, then in tears when I woke up from them. And not just that, there was some form of power inside of me trying to break free, but I had no idea what it was or how to access it, yet.

Stepping into the bathroom I didn’t bother with turning on the light, just slipped my black lace chemise over my head and stepped into our large, walk-in shower, and turned the water as hot as I could bare it. As I stood there directly under the spray flashes of a man kept appearing behind my eyelids. I could barely make out his features, but for whatever reason not being able to recognize him made me more than just sad, but hollow inside like something was missing.

“Rena, why are you up so early love? The sun has just barely set.” As quiet as I had been getting out of the bed I must have still woken Ricardo. I was so lost in thought that I hadn’t even heard him open the shower door. He stood directly behind me and pulled my body flush against his own, swept my hair to the side and gently grazed his fangs along the crook of my neck before letting them sink into my skin.

Ricardo was not a male of many words, but what he lacked in syllables he made up for in sensation. His cold body grew warmer as he fed from me, I could feel his shaft growing and hardening against the crease of my ass. The water cascaded down both of our bodies as he licked the bite marks closed, and his large hands began to work their magic. With one hand, he began kneading my breast, squeezing right to the borderline between pleasure and pain as his other slid down to my hips then around my waist until it found the shaved, heated entrance that was waiting for him. He slipped his fingers, not inside of me, but only slid them along my tight, wet folds, then to tweak and tug at my clitoris, the sensation of that alone enough to put me on the verge of climax.

I whimpered as he removed his hand, but he was by no means done with me yet. Ricardo bent me slightly, splaying his pale ivory hand over my own, much smaller mocha one, interlacing our fingers along the tiles of the shower as I grabbed onto it for purchase. He then entered me in one swift, hard stroke. I screamed out as the feel of his long, wide shaft filled me so completely that if he wasn’t an expert at using it, it would have hurt, instead it felt so good that my juices were already flowing around him. I came again as he found that perfect rhythm, his heavy length sliding up against my walls, the sensation making me so dizzy I would have lost my grip on the wall had he not still had hold of my hand. The water from the showerhead only added to the sensations.

Just as I felt myself coming to a full-on climax, the lightning bolt shaped mark on my outer thigh began to burn. The pain of it made me bend over further, making him not only go deeper, but also made me tighten even further around him. I became a mixture of both pleasure and true pain all at once, I could barely recognize which of the two my moans reflected. Ricardo slid out of me then, and before I had a chance to feel the emptiness of his shaft no longer there, he had me turned around, lifted up with a crushing grip on my hips, and was impaling me once again. As though he felt a sense of urgency, he pistoned in and out of me even harder and faster than before, which took my mind away from the flaring pain in my thigh.

As Ricardo gave me another stroke so deep inside of me I felt his sac rubbing against my entrance I screamed out with one last climax as he jettisoned inside, the warm trickling feel of it making me come that much harder. But when I closed my eyes, I was looking into the metallic silver irises that haunted my dreams, and they looked angry as hell. I could almost hear a faint, foreign, yet familiar voice in the back of my mind saying, I will find you.

When I opened my eyes, Ricardo was staring straight into mine, but it felt like he was seeing right through me to somewhere else, especially when he said, “She’s mine.”

Before I could ask him anything or think any further, he claimed my lips in a claiming, almost punishing kiss. Then I felt a tiny pinprick on the side of my hip and promptly blacked out.

***

Halfway across the world from where Ricardo and Rena were, a warlock wearing only a pair of black shorts, knelt down on the ground in the rain in the dark of night in a cemetery, the droplets shimmered down his muscled, ebony chest and back. He summoned the lightning to the palms of his outstretched hands, letting it empower him further, as he called out to his ancestors. “Ancestors, my foremothers, and forefathers, I come to you tonight, the anniversary of the night you gifted me with one of my greatest gifts, to ask your help in finding her. Help me bring her back to where she belongs, at my side.”

The storm became malevolent then, lightning struck around Jonathan left and right, which both fueled and empowered him. He threw his head back as he soaked it all in. As he closed his eyes, his haunches rose when he finally saw her, with the vampire that had somehow ensnared his powerful, beautiful mate. He tried yet again to communicate with her through their mark, but something was blocking him still, but he felt it slipping, and that little slip was all he needed to learn her location.

Reaching into his back pocket, Jonathan pulled out his phone and dialed his brother. Without bothering with any pleasantries, all he said was, “It’s time to hunt us down a vampire, and bring home my mate.”

About the Author

When you become a Mom, you begin to put yourself last, and your combat boots begin to collect dust. Going to your child's PTA meetings in full Gothic, especially industrial, regalia is pretty much frowned upon. Especially by your own children, and your teens would die of a heart attack. But, one should not have to completely stop being themselves, uniqueness is greatness. So all of that darkness is put into words in her books, and designs in her jewelry sold in her Etsy shop, GothicMoms DarkCharms.

A single mother of five beautiful children, but by far more than just that. T. A. Moorman is an artist, a violinist, a lab assistant, a seamstress, a crafter, a writer, a blogger, a reviewer, a dark confidant and a darkly dangerous, fiercely protective friend.

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Guilty Photographs by S.I. Taylor Book Blitz

5/9/2020

Thriller

Published: April 2020

Publisher: S.I. Taylor Publishing

She was sore and in pain. When her eyes focused, she realized that the thick liquid on the wet floor was her blood. When Barbara saw the photographs; revenge was next on her list.

Barbara Wolf was not always a loner, paranoid, or greedy but she wasn't dealt a good hand in life or so she wanted to believe. When she woke up half naked, bloody, and bruised she knew that her situation had to improve. She sought out the only untrustworthy man she knew who could get her out of her misery only to be absorbed in a web of lies and death. But when her past actions caught up with her future, she must remember that not everything is what it seems and not everyone is who they say they are. The only way to really know is to identify the Guilty Photographs.

Because now, the photographs of the dead are calling for justice.

Guilty Photographs is a full-length gripping page turning thriller packed with suspense, pulse-pounding scenes, and unbelievable twists that will have you holding your breath. Fans of L.T. Vargus, Tim McBain, Mary Burton, and Mike Omer will enjoy this book.

Trigger warning: This novel contains adult language, graphic violence, and sexual encounters.

About the Author

S.I. Taylor is a Hispanic thriller author and showcases her experience as a law enforcement officer and as a biology teacher in her first thriller suspenseful book.

She currently lives in Miami, FL with her two children, husband, and Romeo her Bichon Frise.

She enjoys the outdoors, cooking, writing, and has started her own candle making business.

She's independent, motivator, creator, and goal setter/getter.

If you want to learn more about her follow her on her social at Instagram and Facebook @sitaylorwrites or @aromaandrosescandle

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