Saturday, July 25, 2026

Night Times Trilogy - Paranormal Vampire Romance Thrillers - and a Giveaway #Romance #Paranormal #Vampire #Thriller #Trilogy #Giveaway

Eileen Sheehan is here to tell us about Night Times Trilogy, paranormal vampire romance thrillers.

There's also a great giveaway.

___________________



The darkest hour is only the beginning in the world of shadows.


Night Times Book One

Night Times Trilogy 1

by Eileen Sheehan

Genre: Paranormal Vampire Romance Thriller



For two hundred years, Ethan has haunted the shadows, carrying the heartbreak of losing Judith, the wife he loved before he was unwillingly turned into a vampire.

When he meets Arabella at a costume party, he's stunned by the similarities she shares with Judith. As their connection deepens, Ethan becomes convinced that Arabella is Judith reborn. But with her returning memories come dangerous secrets—knowledge from a centuries-old vampire-hunting society that could threaten the existence of every vampire alive.

Now, hunted by both a ruthless Vampire League and relentless vampire hunters, Ethan and Arabella find themselves caught in a deadly struggle between love, loyalty, and survival. As enemies close in and the past refuses to stay buried, Ethan must choose between losing Arabella forever or offering her the immortality that was forced upon him.

Night Times (Book One) begins a captivating vampire romance thriller trilogy that is filled with, forbidden love, deadly secrets, and a passion that defies time itself.

 

What readers are saying:

 

“For fans of supernatural thrillers involving vampires, Night Times has got everything they crave... Sheehan has created yet another immersive fantastical world full of vampires, witches, and monster hunters. The book is fast-paced, and since I was enjoying it so much, the pages just flew by….You're going to love this!”

 “… Sheehan doesn’t just focus on romance. She digs into what love and trust really mean when everything’s on the line. There’s also a raw look at what it means for a vampire to lose their humanity—how turning immortal tears you away from who you used to be, and from people you once knew. Immortality in this story isn’t just sparkling and forever-young; it comes with a price: isolation, loss, and sometimes the fading of your own sense of self. Still, there’s a flip side—it can mean never-ending love and the fierce desire to protect…… If you’re in the mood for a supernatural drama that goes beyond the usual tropes—one that really leans into the pain, the memories, and the kind of love that won’t quit—this book is definitely worth your time.”

  

Amazon * AppleBookbub * Goodreads




Prologue


The rain came down in silver threads and turned the road to black glass on the night that Ethan’s reality was changed forever.

He remembered that more clearly than he remembered his own face from that time. Faces changed in memory. They were smoothed by years and grief until they became something like paintings. But weather remained exact. The smell of wet earth. The sting of cold through wool. The way the world looked when it was nearly dark and every lamp in the distance seemed to float like a warning.

He had been running then from the thing that had already happened to him.

He had not yet learned that becoming a vampire did not feel like entering a new life. It felt like being torn from the old one with enough violence to leave a permanent shape in the soul. At first there had been only pain, then thirst, then a terrifying clarity that came with the hunger. He had not completely grasped what he was but that realization was soon to come.

And because he had understood that, he had run.

He stood now beneath the branches of the elm at the edge of the lane with the rain slipping through the leaves onto his face while he watched the light in his own house glow through the windows.

Home. The word struck him with unbearable force.

Inside, his wife and love of his life, Judith, would be setting down her sewing and folding the blanket over the arm of the chair. She would be waiting for him, although she might pretend not to be. She always pretended not to wait, as if waiting was too revealing a sort of love. But Ethan had always known. He had known by the way that she paused when she heard his footstep and by the way that she turned before he spoke while already smiling.

He’d spent three hours pacing the woods beyond the property line while fighting his own body as if it was a wild animal. His mouth still burned. His throat ached with a need so vast that it felt like a second heart beating where his was supposed to be. He had torn at his own cuff, bitten the inside of his mouth until it bled, and shoved his hands into the mud to keep from running back to the house.

The problem was that he could still smell her….

 

…“Stay where you are,” he gruffly ordered.

Her mouth slightly parted with fear. “You’re frightening me.”

He could not bear that. Not from her.

The room wavered at the edge of his vision. Hunger rose up in him with a vicious, animal certainty. And for one impossible instant he saw her as prey - not Judith, not wife, not the woman who had braided ribbons into her hair and fallen asleep reading beside the fire, but a pulse of life that he could take with one movement.

He stumbled backward.

Judith’s expression changed to alarm as she exclaimed, “Ethan!”

“No!” he bellowed. The word came out raw.

The flame shivered as she set the candle down too quickly and took a step toward him. “Tell me what happened.”

He violently shook his head. The taste of his own blood filled his mouth again, although he knew there was no wound there now. “You must not come near me.”…

 

…When Judith finally spoke, her voice was broken but steady. “Ethan.”

He closed his eyes. “Yes?”

Her voice trembled as she said, “Do not disappear from my life forever.”

That was the moment when he nearly broke. He put one hand on the doorframe to steady himself. When he spoke, his voice was almost gone. “I will try not to.”

Then he stepped out into the rain and left the house before the dawn could find him.

He never forgot the sound of the door closing behind him. He never forgot the way that Judith had stood in the light, frightened and loving and still reaching for him. And for the centuries that followed, through blood, hunger, survival, and loneliness so deep that it became a second skin, he carried one unbearable truth with him - the night he abandoned Judith, he had not yet understood that immortality was not the curse.

The curse was living long enough to remember the exact shape of the love that you were forced to leave behind.





Night Times Book Two

Night Times Trilogy 2



Arabella was supposed to be dead.

After faking her death to escape the vampires who want her gone, Arabella and Ethan disappear into Las Vegas, hoping to build a life free from fear, secrets, and bloodshed.

For six months, they succeed.

Then Olive discovers the truth.

Obsessed with Ethan and unwilling to accept his love for another woman, Olive sets out to destroy everything they've built. As jealousy turns to vengeance, Ethan and Arabella are thrust into a nightmare that will change them forever.

Filled with danger, betrayal, suspense, and immortal love, Night Times: Book Two is a gripping paranormal romance about how far people will go for love—and how deadly obsession can become.

 

Amazon * Apple * Bookbub * Goodreads

 




Night Times Book Three

Night Times Trilogy 3


Arabella survived death, but immortality comes with a price.

As she learns to embrace life as a vampire under Ethan's guidance, the memories of her torture and murder refuse to fade. While vampire society struggles to accept her return, Arabella secretly plots revenge against the vampires responsible for her suffering—including the woman who wanted her dead.

One by one, her enemies begin to disappear.

As fear spreads through the vampire community and suspicion grows, Arabella must balance her thirst for vengeance with the future she's building alongside Ethan. But some wounds can only heal in darkness, and some debts can only be paid in blood.

Night Times: Book Three is a dark paranormal romance filled with vengeance, passion, secrets, and a love strong enough to survive death.

 

Amazon * Apple * Bookbub * Goodreads

 




Get the Night Times Trilogy Box Set Here!

Amazon * Apple * Bookbub * Goodreads

 




Eileen Sheehan is an Internationally published, Best Selling and Award-Winning author of paranormal romance thrillers & horror for the mature adult. A professional and full-time spiritual advisor and holistic practitioner for over 30 years, the majority of her 76+ novels feature the paranormal, but some are novels about people in love, and a very few are self-help. Eileen incorporates experiences through the years along with her imagination to provide the best believable and entertaining read possible. As the years progressed, so has her writing style. Although she still includes romance and strives for a happily ever after ending, her stories tend to have more mystery, thrills, and a touch of horror in them.

A former busy working mother (who is now a laid-back grandmother), Eileen understands the value of time. She makes it a point to write novels that are able to be enjoyed in one or two evenings.

 

Website * Facebook * FB Group * Instagram * Bluesky * TikTok * Bookbub * Goodreads

 


Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!


Enter the Night Times Trilogy Giveaway Here




Thanks so much for reading today's post. Hope you enjoyed it!

Follow me on Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/tina-donahue

Please feel free to share the post via FB, Bluesky, Linked In, and more...share buttons at the bottom of this post :)

Subscribe

Friday, July 24, 2026

The Great Inversion - Non Fiction #NonFiction

Jordi ter Woord is here to tell us about his non fiction book The Great Inversion.

Read on for details...

________________________
 



Social Science / Media Studies; Technology & Society; Philosophy / Ethics & Moral Philosophy; Popular Philosophy; Artificial Intelligence & Society; Cultural Theory; Attention Economy

Date Published: July 1, 2026



For ten thousand years, ideas needed human minds to copy themselves forward. That has ended.

The Great Inversion is a trade non-fiction book about the moment culture stops needing us as its bottleneck. From ancient stories and print culture to algorithmic feeds and generative AI, Jordi ter Woord traces how ideas learn to survive, why the mirror of the internet feels so personal, and what remains human when creation becomes cheap.

This is not a digital-detox book. It is a book about attention as the one act the machine cannot perform for us.


About the Author

 

 Jordi ter Woord is a Dutch writer, solution architect and IT lead with a background in philosophy and artificial intelligence. He has spent much of his working life close to the systems that move information through organisations, and much of his private life wondering what those systems do to the people who live inside them.

His non-fiction debut, The Great Inversion, is about the moment culture stops needing human beings as its bottleneck. From ancient memory and print culture to algorithmic feeds and generative AI, it asks what remains human when creation becomes cheap and attention becomes the expensive side of the transaction.

Jordi also writes Whimsical Weather, a children's weather-adventure series about Cloudy, storms, patience, migration and letting go. He lives in the Netherlands with his partner and daughter.

 

Contact Links

Author website

BookBuzz

 

Purchase Link

Amazon


RABT Book Tours & PR



Thanks so much for reading today's post. Hope you enjoyed it!

Follow me on Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/tina-donahue

Please feel free to share the post via FB, Bluesky, Linked In, and more...share buttons at the bottom of this post :)

Subscribe

Thursday, July 23, 2026

Field of Purple Bonnets - Speculative Fiction - Literary Fiction #SpeculativeFiction #LiteraryFiction

Dave J. Brown is here to tell us about Field of Purple Bonnets, speculative-literary fiction.

Read on for details...

________________________________
 

 


Speculative Fiction, Literary Fiction

Date Published: May 21, 2026



You've been standing in the field your whole life. You just couldn't see it yet.

 

If you've spent any time in Texas in spring, you know the bluebonnets. Now imagine a pair of glasses that shows you what you had been missing: every ultraviolet the flower had been wearing all along, a field suddenly purple, a world you had been standing inside without seeing.

That is love, for Richard Smith. That is Zin. Richard is the kind of man who learned early how to disappear. Quiet. Careful. Brilliant in ways he rarely lets anyone witness. He writes poetry in notebooks no one is allowed to open and gives his best hours to work that asks nothing of his heart.

Then Zin walks into his life—sharp, guarded, beautiful, and impossible to reduce—and does the thing he never prepared for.

 

She sees him.

All of him.

 

And instead of flinching, she stays. Together, they help bring a technology into the world that does for millions what Zin did for Richard: it lets people see what was always there.

 

Hidden color.

Hidden beauty.

Hidden power.

 

A cheap, wearable lens that reveals the spectrum just beyond ordinary sight. For a moment, it feels like freedom. But a world that profits from keeping people blind does not celebrate new sight.

 

It studies it.

Owns it.

Sells it.

Weaponizes it.

 

What began as wonder becomes surveillance.

What began as intimacy becomes empire.

And as the device they helped create starts tracking faces, movements, desires, and private lives, Richard and Zin are forced to confront the difference between being seen, being wanted, being protected, and being controlled.

The world Richard wanted to open is becoming a machine that watches everyone. And the woman who first opened him may be the only person brave enough to tear it down.

 

The Field of Purple Bonnets is a literary speculative love story about being seen versus being watched. About a man brave enough to be soft, a woman wise enough to know what that costs, and a country slowly forgetting the difference between freedom and possession.

 

 


About the Author

 

 Dave J. Brown writes fiction about love, technology, consciousness, and the strange systems people build to survive themselves. Field of Purple Bonnets is his most ambitious work to date.

He pays his bills helping organizations navigate enterprise technology rollouts, building small applications, and consulting on the kinds of complex implementations that make most people's eyes glaze over. The technical fluency shows up in his writing… not as exposition, but as texture. When Richard designs BeeVision, the engineering feels real because it comes from someone who thinks in systems.

He lives just south of Austin, not far from a field of bluebonnets that looks exactly the way you'd imagine.


Contact Links

Website

Website

BookBuzz


Purchase Links

Amazon

Barnes & Noble

Kobo

Apple Books


RABT Book Tours & PR



Thanks so much for reading today's post. Hope you enjoyed it!

Follow me on Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/tina-donahue

Please feel free to share the post via FB, Bluesky, Linked In, and more...share buttons at the bottom of this post :)

Subscribe

Wednesday, July 22, 2026

The Love Line - Rockstar Romance - Later in Life Romance #Romance #RockstarRomance #LaterinLifeRomance

Heidi McLaughlin is here to tell us about The Love Line, rockstar romance, later in life romance.

Read on for details... 

________________________

Title: The Love Line 

Author: Heidi McLaughlin 

Genre: Rockstar Romance/Later in Life Romance 

Release Date: June 10, 2026 Hosted by: Buoni Amici Press, LLC.

Book Tropes:
✔️Grumpy x sunshine bromance
✔️Who's watching ✔️Reluctant matchmaker ✔️Second act reinvention ✔️Later-in-life emotional drama ✔️After the HEA

Liam Page spent decades singing about love. Now he's ready to talk about it.

The stadiums aren't selling out like they used to. His bandmates are ready for a change. And Liam is finally okay with that because being home in Beaumont with Josie, their son Noah, their daughter Paige, and three perfect grandchildren is everything he never knew he needed.

When a producer pitches him a late-night call-in radio show, Liam is skeptical. But "The Love Line with Liam" becomes something unexpected. A chance to help strangers navigate heartbreak, second chances, and everything in between.

He's good at giving advice. It's his own life that keeps getting complicated.

Because after decades of silence, his estranged father is asking for forgiveness. And Liam isn't sure he has any to give.

AMAZON | APPLE BOOKS | NOOK | KOBO | SMASHWORDS

Heidi McLaughlin is a New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of The Beaumont Series, The Boys of Summer, and The Archers.

Originally, from the Pacific Northwest, she now lives in picturesque Vermont, with her husband, two daughters, and their three dogs.

In 2012, Heidi turned her passion for reading into a full-fledged literary career, writing over twenty novels, including the acclaimed Forever My Girl.

Heidi's first novel, Forever My Girl, has been adapted into a motion picture with LD Entertainment and Roadside Attractions, starring Alex Roe and Jessica Rothe, and opened in theaters on January 19, 2018, and is now available on DVD & Digital.

To stay connected with Heidi visit www.facebook.com/authorheidimclaughlin or heidimclaughlin.com

Stalk heading for social media links

Buoni Amici Press logo 


Thanks so much for reading today's post. Hope you enjoyed it!

Follow me on Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/tina-donahue

Please feel free to share the post via FB, Bluesky, Linked In, and more...share buttons at the bottom of this post :)

Subscribe

Tuesday, July 21, 2026

Rogue - Reckless Kings MC 10 - MC Romance #Romance #MCRomance

Harley Wylde is here to talk about her MC romance Rogue, Reckless Kings MC 10.

Read on for details...

____________________
 



(Reckless Kings MC 10)


MC Romance

Date Published: July 24, 2026

Publisher: Changeling Press



She ran from a monster. I became her shield -- and everyone else’s nightmare.

Lennox -- I was supposed to marry a man chosen by my family. Smile for the cameras. Say the vows. Do what I was told. The wedding wasn’t about love. It was a business deal, and I was the price being paid.

So I ran. Terrified. Still wearing my wedding dress. I didn’t have a plan. I didn’t have anywhere to go. Then a biker named Rogue stopped beside the road and changed everything.

Rogue -- I’ve spent years handling problems for the Reckless Kings MC. Quietly. Permanently. Picking up a runaway bride wasn’t part of the plan. Neither was getting married. One look at the bruises she tried to hide and the fear she couldn’t quite mask, and I knew one thing for certain. She wasn’t going back.

Now her wealthy family, powerful ex-fiancé, and anyone else stupid enough to come after her will have to deal with me first. The longer Lennox stays under my protection, the harder it becomes to remember this started as a way to keep her safe. She deserves freedom, a future, and the chance to choose her own path. What she doesn’t realize is that I’ve already made my choice. She’s mine. And nobody is taking her away.

 


Excerpt

Copyright ©2026 Harley Wylde

Rogue

The lot at Hadley’s sat empty -- one rusted Buick, a flickering sodium light, dead still except for the canopy buzz. I rolled the Harley under the canopy and killed the engine. The noise dropped away. The night pressed close.

I’d been on the road since nine, a pointless run Hawk sent me on to check a stretch of road south of Nashville. Two of our guys thought they’d picked up a tail last week. I’d seen nothing but dark asphalt. Now, twenty minutes from turning north for home, I was hungry, bone-tired, and needed gas. Hadley’s had it all.

I swung off the bike and stretched the road out of my shoulders. The canopy lights hummed. Inside the store, a kid in a Titans cap sat behind the counter with his face in his phone, and a country station played thin from a blown speaker mounted by the cigarette racks. I paid him cash for two gallons of regular, picked up a black coffee and a Slim Jim I wouldn’t eat, and walked back out under the buzzing light and its collected moths.

I was about to unlock the gas tank when I clocked the white.

It was a flicker, no more -- a piece of something pale catching the edge of the security light around the corner of the building, where the dumpsters sat behind a low cinder block wall the owner had built so the highway couldn’t see the trash. The Buick at the far pump still had no driver. The road was empty in both directions. The tree line beyond the lot was black. Tennessee woods in November swallowed light whole. I stayed at the pump.

I leaned against the pump, uncapped the coffee, and took a long, slow sip I didn’t want. Then I looked. The lot. The road. The tree line. I gave it two minutes. Nothing moved. The flicker of white stayed put.

I set the coffee on top of the pump and walked around the corner of the building.

She was crouched in the gravel between the cinder block wall and the back end of the second dumpster, knees up, the skirt of a dress that had cost somebody a year of salary bunched around her thighs and stained dark at the hem with whatever Hadley’s back lot had to offer. There was a veil in her hair. An actual veil. Pinned high and torn loose at the bottom edge where she’d caught it on something. Brown hair had freed itself from the pins on one side.

She was pressing her left wrist against her ribs.

The wrist was already swelling. Fresh. The skin had gone an angry red and was thinking about turning purple, the kind of mark left by a hand closing around it and yanking hard. It hadn’t happened long ago.

She heard me before she saw me.

Her head came up so fast I thought for a second, she was going to put it into the cinder block behind her. She got her feet under her in one motion. She looked around eighteen. Small. She moved with the twitchy speed of prey, getting her back against the wall, her hands flat to the block at her sides like she could push it down behind her and go through it if she had to.

I stopped several feet from her and put out my hands where she could see them. Palms open. Empty… except for the Slim Jim still in one of them, which was not the dignified detail I would have picked.

I didn’t say anything for a beat. I let her look at me. Let her clock the cut, the patches, the boots, the beard -- whatever she needed. She scanned fast, doing math on the distance between me and the road, where the gap was. She was a girl who had learned how to measure rooms.

The veil moved a little in the night air. She didn’t.

“You hurt?” I kept it short. I kept the road out of my voice -- the put-her-at-ease lilt I used on women at the bar who didn’t know me yet -- because she didn’t need a man being charming at her right now. She needed a man being quiet.

She lifted her chin.

“I’m fine.” The words came too even. Too rehearsed. “I just need a ride.”

Bruised jaw. Swollen wrist. Veil still pinned in her hair.

“Okay,” I said.

She narrowed her eyes half a degree. She’d been ready for the next question. People who looked the way she did were always ready for the next one, and the one after that, and the moment a man decided he’d earned an answer.

I tipped my head back toward the front of the building.

“Bike’s at the pump.”

I waited for the second it took her to understand that I wasn’t going to walk her to it. Then I turned and went back the way I’d come, around the corner of the building, into the buzz of the canopy lights. I topped off the tank, returned the nozzle to the pump, tightened the gas cap. I picked up the cup of coffee from the top of the pump and held it like I had reason to be standing there. I didn’t look back.

A few seconds passed. The night did its small noises. The fluorescent up by the air pump ticked through another bad cycle and gave up, then came back on.

Then I heard the gravel.

Two steps. A pause. Three more, slower, picking the path. I could hear the soft drag of a hem.

I took another sip of the now-cold coffee, and I waited.

She came up on my left, two feet of clearance between us, and stopped at the back end of the bike like she’d been told once, a long time ago, that you didn’t walk up on a man’s machine without permission and she’d never quite let go of the lesson. The dress dragged on the concrete behind her. There was gravel pressed into the white of it in a stripe across the hip. Up close, under the canopy lights, the bruise on her wrist had gone the dirty red of something the next hour was going to make worse.

I’d kept my attention on the road for the last forty seconds because something had started pulling at the inside of my chest before my thinking brain caught up, and a man in my line of work learned to pay attention to that pull or learned to bleed.

That was when the first set of headlights came up out of the dark to the south.

They came slow. Slow enough that I had time to set the coffee down on top of the pump. Slow enough that I had time to read the shape of the vehicle before I clocked the speed of it -- square, high, blacked-out, the kind of SUV nobody bought in this county to haul kids to school. It turned in off the county road without indicating, and the second one came in behind it without indicating either. They didn’t roll up to a pump. They rolled past the pumps. They stopped twenty yards from the front doors of the store, in the open part of the lot where they could see everything, and sat there with their engines running and their windows up.

I felt her go still beside me.

She didn’t make a sound or move. She froze with the instinct of someone who’d learned motion could get her hurt.

I unhooked the helmet from the handlebar.

I held it out to her without looking at her. Sideways, low, between our hips, where the bulk of my body was between it and the SUVs.

“Take it.”

She took it. Both hands. The bruised wrist came out from her ribs and caught the light, and she tightened her fingers around the foam at the helmet’s edge hard enough that the skin across her knuckles pulled flat and colorless.

The driver’s door of the front SUV opened.

A man stepped out. Dark jacket. No coat for the weather, which meant he didn’t plan to be outside long. He didn’t walk toward the store. He stood in the open door of his vehicle with one hand on the frame and the other hand down at his hip where I couldn’t see it, and he scanned the lot -- left to right, slow, taking inventory.

He took clocked the Buick, my bike, and even me.

I threw a leg over the bike.

“Get on.”

She followed the softly spoken command. She didn’t ask which side. She didn’t ask where to put her hands. She scrambled on, hiking the dress up with a clumsy heave. She swung a leg over the seat, her heel scraping against the pipe before her foot found the peg. The helmet bumped once against the back of my shoulder as she settled, grabbing for purchase.

Her fingers dug into my shirt as she held on.

It wasn’t the loose grip of a girl who’d been on the back of a bike before and remembered the etiquette. Both of her hands closed in the front of my jacket like the leather was a railing and she was a half-step from going over, and both fists pressed into my stomach through the cut.

The man in the dark jacket lifted his hand off the SUV’s frame.

I was already moving.

I twisted the throttle. The rear tire spat a plume of gravel, the back end sliding for a split second before it caught traction. We shot out from under the canopy, and I leaned hard into the turn onto the county road. She moved with me instead of fighting it. On a first ride, that was the only thing that kept you upright.

Behind us, a door slammed. Then a second door. The high beams of the second SUV swept across the front of the store, across the pumps and the spot we’d been parked in three seconds ago, and then they swung wide toward the road.

I opened the throttle the rest of the way.

The county highway south of Nashville at eleven-thirty on a weeknight was a black river with a yellow line down the middle of it, and the bike ate it. The tree line on either side blurred into something you couldn’t look at without your eyes watering. Cold came up off the asphalt, through my jeans, through the cuffs of my jacket, and somewhere behind us, in the mirror, the SUV headlights came around onto the road in a wide, scrambling arc and started after us.

They were big vehicles. They were fast on a straight. They were not fast through curves, and I knew every curve on this stretch of road between Hadley’s and the county line by the time I was twenty.

I took the first one without braking.

Her hands clamped tighter. I felt the second fistful of jacket bunch under my ribs. She made a small sound, not quite a word, swallowed almost before it started. She put her helmet against the back of my shoulder and pressed it there. That was all.

I checked the mirror.

The headlights clung to us through the first curves, too bright in my mirror. I knew a feeder road up ahead they wouldn’t expect. I took the turn hard, the tires screaming. I saw their brake lights flare red as they overshot the turn-in. They’d be back, but I’d bought us thirty seconds. It would have to be enough. I didn’t slow down.

The next exit north was a county road. From there, I could hit a web of back roads leading to the woods south of the compound. A man on a bike could get lost in those trees. The men in the SUVs would have to be born in them to follow. I pointed the bike at the exit.



About the Author

Harley Wylde is an accomplished author known for her captivating MC Romances. With an unwavering commitment to sensual storytelling, Wylde immerses her readers in an exciting world of fierce men and irresistible women. Her works exude passion, danger, and gritty realism, while still managing to end on a satisfying note each time.

When not crafting her tales, Wylde spends her time brainstorming new plotlines, indulging in a hot cup of Starbucks, or delving into a good book. She has a particular affinity for supernatural horror literature and movies. Visit Wylde's website to learn more about her works and upcoming events, and don't forget to sign up for her newsletter to receive exclusive discounts and other exciting perks.

 

Author on Facebook, Instagram, & TikTok: @harleywylde

 

Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok: @changelingpress

 

Pre-Order Today


RABT Book Tours & PR



Thanks so much for reading today's post. Hope you enjoyed it!

Follow me on Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/tina-donahue

Please feel free to share the post via FB, Bluesky, Linked In, and more...share buttons at the bottom of this post :)

Subscribe