The Dead Hour - LGBT Paranormal Horror - and a Giveaway #Horror #LGBT - Paranormal - Giveaway #Horror #LGBT #Paranormal #Giveaway

Thomas Grant Bruso is here to tell us about The Dead Hour, LGBT paranormal horror.

There's also a great giveaway.

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This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by >Goddess Fish Promotions. Thomas Grant Bruso will be awarding a $10 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

PI Bradshaw receives a late night call from a client desperate to find her missing daughter. The woman asks to meet him at a storage unit in upstate New York. The woman hangs up before Bradshaw can inquire further. Woken by the jarring news, Bradshaw decides to meet the frantic, mysterious woman pleading for his help.

Working as a private investigator has its drawbacks. Bradshaw often receives prank calls from clients with run-of-the-mill requests and chooses his cases wisely. But there is something unusual and unnerving about this particular call. The hopeless plea in the woman’s voice and the anonymity of her demand ignite a maelstrom of questions.

While Bradshaw decides whether the call is worth pursuing, a young dead girl from the Other Side visits him, demanding attention and seeking help for the request he just received. Who is this spirit? What does she want? And how is she linked to the caller?

Read an Excerpt

Thunder cleaved the sky, pulling me out of my foggy dream.

In the glass, a flash of white light and a dash of movement scurried past my periphery.

I shuddered at the pale flesh of a disfigured face sneering at me.

I turned.

Nothing -- a line of locked unit doors.

Then footsteps, sprinting away, and a gaggle of laughter from around the corner, along the corridor.

“Hello?” I yelled, chasing another phantom. My legs felt like rubber bands as I dashed to the end of the long hall. I stopped at the stairwell door, out of breath.

The sound footsteps seized. But intoxicating laughter followed.

“Who’s there?” I yelled. “This isn’t funny.”

A mockery of demonic laughter filled the air and cooled my skin.

I stepped back, drew a breath.

Behind me, one of the two elevators dinged. The doors opened.

Curiosity consumed me.

I should not have turned around to the sound.

The lights went out when I did, plunging me into complete darkness.

Up ahead, the exit signs flickered.

I reached into my coat pocket and gripped the small bottle of mace I carried with me when working cases. My heart thrashed behind my ribs, like a pack of hungry rats gnawing through the lining of muscles, tendons, and intestines.

A coldness coiled in the space behind me. A round of knuckles tapped against my head, and the sound of teeth clicked close to my ear. I ran toward the elevator doors. They closed before I reached it.

I banged hard on the doors and pressed the down button several times.

In the dim light of the corridor, I noticed shadowy movement from something skittering across the wall, a chittering screech of insectile legs rushing at me in the dark.

I raced a few feet to the left of the elevators to the stairwell door.

Locked.

About the Author: Thomas Grant Bruso knew he wanted to be a writer at an early age. He has been a voracious reader of genre fiction since childhood.

His literary inspirations are Ray Bradbury, Dean Koontz, Stephen King, Jim Grimsley, Karin Fossum, and Joyce Carol Oates.

Bruso loves animals, reading books, and writing fiction, and prefers Sudoku to crossword puzzles.

In another life, he was a freelance writer and wrote for magazines and newspapers. In college, he won the Hermon H. Doh Sonnet Competition. Now, he writes and publishes fiction and reviews books for his hometown newspaper, The Press-Republican.

He lives in upstate New York.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8591689.Thomas_Grant_Bruso
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/thomasgrantbruso/
Blue Sky: https://web-cdn.bsky.app/profile/thomasgrantbruso.bsky.social

Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-dead-hour-thomas-grant-bruso/1148779270
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Dead-Hour-Thomas-Grant-Bruso-ebook/dp/B0FWBRGQBW/ref=sr_1_1
JMS Books: https://www.jms-books.com/thomas-grant-bruso-c-224_236/the-dead-hour-p-5517.html

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The Life and Times of Jim Bridger - US Western History - Mountain Man - Fur Trade - Exploration - American Indians and a Giveaway #USWesternHistory #MountainMan #FurTrade #Exploration #AmericanIndians #Giveaway

Bill Markley is here to tell us about The Life and Times of Jim Bridger, US Western history, mountain man, fur trade, exploration, American Indians.

There's also a great giveaway.

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US Western History/Jim Bridger, mountain man, fur trade, exploration, American Indians

Date Published: 08-08-2025

Publisher: Farcountry Press

The Life and Times of Jim Bridger, a new biography by Bill Markley, is a well-researched work that brings to life the story of Jim Bridger, the legendary mountain man, fur trapper, and explorer who played a key role in shaping the American West. From guiding scientific expeditions to pioneering vital emigrant routes like the Overland and Bridger Trails, Jim Bridger’s name is etched into the very landscape of the American frontier. Bridger’s contributions helped lead to the establishment of Yellowstone National Park, the first national park in the world. His life was filled with encounters with Native American tribes, fur traders, U.S. Army officers, and remarkable adventures across the wild West.

 

Reviews for The Life and Times of Jim Bridger

Bill Markley has established an enviable reputation as a western biographer. His excellent new biography of Jim Bridger will only augment his status. Crisply written and carefully researched this biography of the greatest of the mountain men will both captivate and inform readers for years to come. --Paul Hutton, author of The Undiscovered Country

 

Bill Markley has done it again with THE LIFE AND TIMES OF JIM BRIDGER. The mythic mountain man comes to life in Markley's biography and by the end you will be ready to go West and discover for yourself the West of Jim Bridger. --Stuart Rosebrook, editor-at-large, TRUE WEST magazine

 

Well researched and well told, Markley gives us a fresh look at one of the giants of the American West. I believe he has captured the man and his essence. —Bob Boze Bell, executive editor True West magazine

 

Bill Markley’s The Life and Times of Jim Bridger vividly captures the adventures of a legendary mountain man whose courage, ingenuity, and deep connection to the American West shaped a nation’s frontier. From fur trapping to guiding emigrants, Bridger’s story is a testament to resilience and cultural fluency, brought to life with meticulous research and engaging prose.  -- Jon Nelson, Board Director for the Museum of the Fur Trade, Chadron, Nebraska

 

When the tall, genial Virginian Jim Bridger ventured West as a “green” teenager in the early years of the fur trade, no one predicted that he would become known as the legendary “old man of the mountains."   Packing his life with enough adventure for at least ten mountain men, Bridger led beaver-trapping brigades, hunted buffalo, fought hostile Blackfeet, married a Shoshone woman, mapped trackless wilderness, guided the U.S. Army during Red Cloud’s War, and more.  Although illiterate, he spoke several European—and Indian—languages.  Did Bridger really leave the grizzly-mauled Hugh Glass to die alone?  Markley delves deep into his subject’s extraordinary life. Wonderfully illustrated with period maps and artwork, this book is for anyone who loves true tales of the raucous fur trading era of the early nineteenth century. Bridger once said, “Sir, the grace of God won’t carry a man through these prairies!  It takes powder and ball.”  And how.  –Nancy Plain, four-time Spur Award winner, past president of Western Writers of America.   

 

 

Excerpt

Final Thoughts

During my two-year research of Jim Bridger, my respect for him

has grown. He accepted all people, no matter who they were. Only when

they turned on him would he treat them as enemies. He tried to stay out of

fights, but if one was unavoidable, he was in the forefront.

It’s a shame—and our loss—that he didn’t learn to read and write. He was

intelligent, creating accurate maps from memory. He learned English, French,

Spanish, a variety of Indian languages, and was proficient in sign language.

After people read Shakespeare to him, he would quote passages from memory.

As to the Hugh Glass story, I believe Bridger was not the teenager who

deserted Glass. Historians have pointed to Bridger because of an 1839 article

that gave the young man’s last name as “Bridges,” based on old riverboat pilot

Joseph LaBarge’s recollection, and tradition had it on the Missouri that it was

Bridger. That’s it. When Alfred Jacob Miller sat around a mountaineer fire

and jotted down the Hugh Glass story during the 1837 rendezvous, the first

name of the person Glass confronted was Bill. If Bridger had been the young

man who deserted Glass, I believe other mountaineers would have ribbed him

about it.

As to Bridger selling Fort Bridger to the Mormons, I don’t believe he sold

it. He was an honest man, and to his dying day, he never said he sold it, continuing to

attempt to collect his rental payment from the federal government.

Bridger’s descriptions of the Yellowstone geothermal region to expedition

leaders and scientists led to its eventual exploration in 1871 by one of those scientists,

Ferdinand Hayden. The following year, Congress designated it the

world’s first national park.

Jim Bridger was loved by many people, from children to generals. He was

well liked by many tribes. Most of his adversaries respected him. He enjoyed

nothing better than to be out in nature, preferring to sleep under the stars than

in a tent. It would have been great fun to sit at a campfire and listen to him tell

of his exploits and tall tales. He was a man in love with the West.

Toward the end of his life, Jim Bridger said, “I wish I was back there among

the mountains again—you can see so much farther in that country.” 

 

About the Author

 

 Bill Markley, member of Western Writers of America and multiple winner of the Will Rogers Medallion award, has written eleven books including biographies and histories of Old West characters and events. He writes for True West and Wild West magazines and is a staff writer for Roundup magazine.

Contact Links

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The Deadly Tea - Cozy Mystery - and a Giveaway #CozyMystery #Giveaway

Rachel Dacus is here to tell us about her cozy mystery The Deadly Tea.

There's also a great giveaway.

_____________________

This post is part of a virtual book organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Rachel Dacus will be awarding a $20 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Most sleuths don’t have the advantage of talking to the murder victim for clues, but Saffron has a window into the afterlife. The problem is, she's not a detective and has no wish to be.

In the charming heart of London’s Notting Hill, Saffron juggles motherhood, running an animal welfare foundation, and counseling recently deceased spirits—the invisibles. But her peaceful routine is upended when a spirit insists she solve the mystery of his untimely death. Lucas Troy pops into her awareness claiming he was killed and demanding she figure out who did it. He wants justice before he'll agree to move on. But Saffron's role isn't to play detective, but to help each invisible plan for the next adventure in living. She asks Lucas if he suspects anyone in the circle at his aunt’s tea party where he died. He can’t imagine anyone wanting to kill him, but he persuades Saffron to interview them all.

She feels for Lucas, who had hardly begun his life, and she tries to persuade him that he can have a great future next lifetime, but finally she gives in and agrees to a little investigating. If she finds out something, perhaps he’ll agree to move forward. But the closer she gets to the possible killer, the more she’s in danger. Saffron has no wish to join Lucas in The Room Over There.

Settle in to a cozy mystery with a touch of the supernatural, the heartwarming chaos of family, and the charm of London’s Notting Hill. "Interesting characters, intriguing mystery."

Read an Excerpt

It was glorious to dawdle around the bohemian and vintage shops on Portobello Road, and the addition of rare April sunshine in London made it seem to Saffron like her spa day. Not that she ever got to have those, as most mothers of young children didn’t. But today, browsing and shopping, she indulged herself in a glorious solitude amid the crowds. This busy street was her paradise, and she needed just a few more things for the children’s Easter outfits, but hoping not to find them too quickly.

Traffic and people swirled around her, and she thrilled to the bright colors, food stalls, brushes of music wafting out of open doors. She would forever be a tourist in her adopted city of London. Notting Hill was so like her San Francisco Bay Area, but snootier. In many ways, more exciting.

Peering into windows, she thought about the perfect bow tie she wanted for Percy’s suit, so her seven-year-old son didn’t look like a tiny banker. Four-year-old Freida could use a flower pin for her pinafore dress. Focusing on these ideas was such a pleasure. Saffron tried to wipe the smile off her face, remembering that Londoners did not walk around smiling, though Californians often did.

A passerby jostled her, and as she stopped to check her bag, a low voice drifted down. “Hey! Anyone here?”

Hella damn. An invisible. Another drifting spirit.

“I’m here,” she whispered. “I’m busy, as you can see. You can see me, right?”

“I see a lot of hair. Curly. Are you some kind of animal?”

Saffron huffed. “You’re looking at the top of my head. Come down lower, so you can see my face.”

Some might call it being haunted, but Saffron called it helping invisibles. She wasn’t often contacted by newly dead people, but occasionally one popped into her vicinity. They always needed orientation and comfort after the trauma of dying.

About the Author:

Rachel Dacus is the author of eight novels and five poetry collections. Her fiction features love and relationships, exotic locations and intrepid heroines, and emotional journeys of self-discovery, all with a touch of the supernatural. Her poetry, stories, and essays have appeared widely in print and online literary journals and anthologies. She enjoys life in the beautiful San Francisco Bay Area, with its coast and trails where she walks her tiny but mighty Silky Terrier with her architect husband.

Website: http://www.racheldacus.net/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/RachelDacusAuthor

Twitter: https://twitter.com/Rachel_Dacus

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/racheldacusauthor/

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Deadly-Tea-cozy-mystery-Invisibles-ebook/dp/B0GPT7ZLFW

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Guilty Silence - Silence #3 - Romantic Suspense - Small Town Romance - on Audible #RomanticSuspense #SmallTownRomance #Audible

Freya Barker is here to tell us about Guilty Silence, Silence #3, romantic suspense, small town romance, on Audible.

Read on for details...

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Title: Guilty Silence (Silence #3) 

Author: Freya Barker 

Performed by: Drew Adams & Da Eun Yoon 

Genre: Romantic Suspense, Small Town Romance 

Release Date: June 16, 2026 

Hosted by: Buoni Amici Press, LLC.

Bess Choi is proud of what she's accomplished.

Owner of Strange Brew, a popular coffee shop in Silence, she's worked hard and has overcome many obstacles to build the life she has. It's a good life, one that includes work she loves, an apartment to call her own, and plenty of good friends.

But an unexpected phone call comes as a brutal reminder of a time she thought she'd left far behind. Suddenly, she's faced with the choice to turn her back on the beautiful life she created, or break her guilty silence.

Chief Deputy Hugo Alexander isn't sure when exactly he started seeing the quiet coffee shop owner as more than simply a good friend. It's hard to pinpoint the moment when she went from a supportive friend to him and his teenage son, to the woman who features in his dreams and fantasies.

Unfortunately, Bess Choi seems to have him firmly locked in the friend zone, and it's not until worrisome things start happening around her, she cautiously starts lowering the barriers.

But when he discovers she might be in far more danger than she's been willing to let on, he's done tiptoeing around.

AUDIBLE

Click cover above to listen to an excerpt from Guilty Silence!

USA Today bestselling author Freya Barker loves writing about ordinary people with extraordinary stories.

With forty-plus books already published, she continues to create characters who are perhaps less than perfect, each struggling to find their own slice of happy.

Recipient of the ReadFREE.ly 2019 Best Book We've Read All Year Award for "Covering Ollie, the 2015 RomCon “Reader’s Choice” Award for Best First Book, “Slim To None”, Finalist for the 2017 Kindle Book Award with “From Dust”, and Finalist for the 2020 Kindle Book Award with “When Hope Ends”, Freya spins story after story with an endless supply of bruised and dented characters, vying for attention!

AUDIBLE

 

Be part of the buzz — join The Hype Hive today!

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The Crown of Moonlight - The Five Crowns #1 - Fantasy - Romance - and a Giveaway #Romance #Fantasy #Giveaway

Martina Boone is here to tell us about The Crown of Moonlight, The Five Crowns #1, fantasy-romance.

There's also a great giveaway.

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The Crown of Moonlight

Martina Boone

(The Five Crowns, #1)

Publication date: November 11th 2025

Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Romance

She’s the Highlander who saves his life with forbidden magic. He’s the immortal stranger who falls first—one healing touch, one fierce kindness at a time.

A romantic fantasy inspired by Scottish history, where the land itself is magic and chooses a woman as its champion.

Flora Domhnall is the last of her line: a healer, a strategist, her clan’s only defence in a war neither side can win. When she finds a dying immortal warrior in her woods, saving him is a terrible risk. But if he dies on her land, her clan will pay the price.

Her choice binds her fate to his.

Chyr has spent four centuries chained by the oaths carved into his flesh—oaths that read his every thought. Violence and honour are all he knows, and Flora’s brave, impossible mercy breaks him open.

Hunted across the burning Highlands, they can rely only on each other. Their longing grows with every mile they share a saddle, every sacrifice made in silence, and every night they guard each other in the dark.

He’s hopelessly fallen. She’s fighting not to fall.

Then the ancient sovereignty magic of the Cailleach Queens awakens in Flora—and marks her as something the world hasn’t seen in four hundred years.

And Chyr’s oaths may demand he destroy the one person he can’t bear to lose.

For her, he’ll try to break his oaths. Even if it kills him.

From award-winning author Martina Boone, The Crown of Moonlight is a mythic Celtic romantasy perfect for readers who love the haunting historical romance of Diana Gabaldon’s Outlander, the soul-deep yearning of Rebecca Ross, and the dark, aching magic of Rachel Gillig’s One Dark Window. The first book in a sweeping series about ancient crowns, impossible oaths, and a love that must survive betrayal, war, and the gods themselves.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / Apple Books / Kobo

EXCERPT:

Flora

My knees shake as I crouch beside the nearest Ever, and a hot flush of magic ripples across my skin. More magic than I’ve ever felt. But that’s not the only shock. Although the ancient tales talk about the beauty of the Everfolk, seeing it in front of me makes my breath catch.

The Ever is handsome in a way that explains the warnings in the ancient stories—the blinding, dangerous sort of beauty that’s said to make humans lose their will and descend into madness. His features are too eerily perfect, his black hair has the gleam of raven’s wings, and the blue eyes that look unseeingly into the sky catch the light like layers of stained glass, revealing more colours the deeper I look.

His sightless stare unnerves me, and I brush my fingers across his lids to close them. The skin is still warm. I flinch from the contact, and my hand grazes a pale-blue crystal set in a ring on his right hand.

A jolt of pure power jars me as I touch it—so hot and bright that it pulls an answering flare from the ember of magic that burns inside me. Snatching my hand away, I wait for the sensation to ebb. But I miss it when it’s gone. My magic misses it, which makes no sense since my magic isn’t Ever magic. Careful not to touch the ring again, I bend closer to examine the crystal set within it. There’s movement inside, gold threads of magic dancing like lightning behind a thin haze of cloud.

The movement is mesmerising, holding me captive a moment too long after Ari snorts and stomps his foot. By the time the thud and the jingling of his bridle finally register, his muscles are braced as he uses his back to pull harder against the reins that tie him to the tree.

Then a twig snaps somewhere close. Behind me? To the left?

I spin around, searching. But there’s nothing. No one.

Well, I refuse to play this game.

“Who’s there? Come out and show yourself instead of hiding like a coward.”

The Wood falls unnaturally still. Then shadows stir beneath an oak tree to my left.

“I know you’re there,” I say, gripping the dagger tighter.

A voice answers me from the shadows. “Careful, little one. Taunt the things you fear, and you might just prove you were right to be afraid.”

The voice is male—slow and resonant, pitched between a growl and a cat’s deep purr. A predator’s voice, claws barely sheathed.

A shiver of awareness ripples down my spine. I draw on the cool, gritty power of the earth and fuse it with the fire that burns inside me. Needles of magic rake through bone and tissue as I force it outward, pouring it into the dagger. The blade groans, lengthening and thickening until it becomes a perfect replica of my father’s sword and rests cold, heavy, and steadying within my grasp.

An Ever steps forward, his figure cloaked in gloom, footsteps whispering over the frost-crusted moss. He’s larger than the bodies behind me seemed, taller and broader, his features carved in bold strokes beneath gilded hair that’s tied half-up in a warrior’s knot and reveals a widow’s peak. He looks gaunt, worn down, though power and command still radiate from him. He’s every bit as beautiful as the others—and devastatingly male.

He watches me with a faint, treacherous smile. “You can put that illusion away,” he says. “You’re lucky I didn’t mistake it for a threat.”

“The sword is no illusion,” I say, “and the threat is no mistake.”

Author Bio:

Martina Boone is the award-winning author of romantic fiction set in magical places. Her books blend lush writing, strong heroines, wounded heroes, atmospheric landscapes, history, folklore, family secrets, and magic woven through the ordinary world. When she isn’t writing, she can usually be found traveling, reading, studying history and folklore, wrangling wildflower meadows, or playing with Shetland Sheepdogs and tuxedo cats.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / X / Pinterest / Instagram / TikTok

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The Crown of Moonlight Blitz

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For Liberty and Love - Petticoats & Patriots #1 - Historical Romance and a Giveaway #Romance #HistoricalRomance #Giveaway

Shanna Hatfield is here to tell us about For Liberty & Love, Petticoats & Patriots #1, historical romance.

There's also a great giveaway.

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For Liberty and Love

Shanna Hatfield

(Petticoats & Patriots, #1)

Publication date: June 16th 2026

Genres: Adult, Historical Romance

Courage built a nation. Love made it worth fighting for.

Throughout 250 years of American history, a well-loved locket finds its way into the hands of eight spirited heroines—each standing at the crossroads of love and destiny, and each inspired by a true patriot. As it journeys from one heart to the next, these stories unfold with sweet romance, unwavering hope, and a deep love of country, proving that even in uncertain times, love is always worth the risk. Start reading the Petticoats & Patriots series today!

She never intended to become a spy … or fall for one.

Philadelphia, 1776

As whispers of revolution turn swell into a roar for freedom, Lucy Carlson is no longer content to simply watch from behind the counter of her father’s jewelry shop. When a mysterious woman—none other than Martha Washington—leaves behind a locket, Lucy discovers the piece is more than a pretty keepsake. The necklace is a secret vessel for the revolution that carries the promise of love.

Drawn into a dangerous spy ring, Lucy begins crafting coded messages concealed within the locket’s clever design, living a secret double life and risking everything she holds dear in a time of sacrifice and war.

Continental soldier Branch Barton is a man defined by duty. Tasked with rooting out traitors, he moves through the shadowed world of deception and divided loyalties. He’s trained to trust no one, yet he finds himself drawn into a slow-burning connection with the jeweler’s spirited daughter.

But when Lucy begins to suspect Branch may be a Redcoat in disguise, their fragile bond is tested by mistaken identity, growing mistrust, and the threat of betrayal.

In a war where even allies can become enemies, Lucy and Branch must navigate a world of hidden truths and guarded hearts. With the fate of the colonies—and their hearts—hanging in the balance as Lucy delivers a message in enemy territory, will they find the courage to trust each other and choose love?

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

Lucy rushed into the shop and drew up short at the sight of the man who had stood across the street earlier, leaning against her workbench. Despite being so taken aback by his presence, she couldn’t help but admire his muscular form and his handsome features.

When he removed his cocked hat and nodded politely, her gaze fell on the sun-kissed golden hair of his head, traveled down to expressive brows that raised slightly at her perusal, and hesitated at soulful eyes the color of moss caught in a beam of sunshine. His full lips and defined jawline added to his masculine allure. As he straightened and stepped toward her, she had the fleeting thought that he moved with strength and purpose, as though he was in full control of himself and his surroundings.

“Hello, Miss Carlson,” he said in a soft, deep voice that made Lucy’s knees feel unexpectedly weak.

Or perhaps the weakness came from realizing she’d stupidly left the ledger open and out in plain sight for anyone to read the entries. Not that she nor her father had anything to hide, but she didn’t think the tall man with a commanding bearing had any right to know who purchased merchandise in their store.

“May I help you, sir?” Lucy asked in a crisp tone as she strode behind the workbench, closed the ledger, and slid it onto the shelf where her father kept it.

“I came to retrieve something my…” He hesitated just long enough for Lucy to grow suspicious of his intentions and motives. “… aunt left here. A pair of gloves. Aunt Patsy sent me to retrieve them.”

Lucy could have easily handed over the gloves, which were sitting next to her tools just inches from where she stood, but she didn’t. Surely, he had to know she’d seen him lingering across the street, watching for Patsy.

Did the man mistake her for a complete dunce? Or did he think his attractive features and a voice that rumbled like a summer thunderstorm wrapped in velvet would leave her so captivated that she would bow to his every whim and wish?

Affronted, she stiffened and lifted her chin. “I will give … Patsy the gloves when I next see her. If that is not her preference, then please bring a note from her to indicate otherwise.”

“I assure you, Miss Carlson, I mean no harm. My aunt was quite distressed to realize she’d misplaced her gloves. They were a gift from someone quite dear to her heart, and it would be a tragedy for her to lose them.”

“And I assure you, Mister …” She paused, since the man had failed to introduce himself.

“Barton. Burwell Barton at your service,” he said with a bow, then offered her a boyish grin that caused her stomach to flutter. “But my friends call me Branch.”

“Branch,” she repeated, wondering if the name had anything to do with the series of barely noticeable moles on his left cheek that were shaped like a curved tree branch.

As though he could read her thoughts, his fingers brushed over his cheek. “A mark from birth, I suppose. Now, may I please have my aunt’s gloves?”

Lucy shook her head. “No, you may not. I intend to place them into her hands myself, sir. Now, unless I can interest you in a set of buckles or perhaps a snuff box, then I’ll have to ask that you depart. My family is waiting for me.”

“My apologies, Miss Carlson.” He backed toward the door. “My intent was not to insult or upset anyone.”

“Yes, well, I …” When she looked up into his face and caught him smiling, it was as though all the words she’d planned to say fell back down her throat. Mercy, but he was handsome with those sharp cheekbones and a bottom lip that seemed designed for passionate kisses.

Passionate kisses? Heavens above! What was she thinking? For all she knew, this man could be one of the king’s spies.

Author Bio:

USA Today Bestselling Author Shanna Hatfield writes sweet romances rich with relatable characters, small town settings that feel like home, humor, and hope.

Her historical westerns have been described as “reminiscent of the era captured by Bonanza and The Virginian” while her contemporary works have been called “laugh-out-loud funny, and a little heart-pumping sexy without being explicit in any way.”

When this farm girl isn’t writing or indulging in rich, decadent chocolate, Shanna hangs out with her husband, lovingly known as Captain Cavedweller. She also experiments with recipes, snaps photos of her adorable nephew, and caters to the whims of a cranky cat named Drooley.

To learn more about Shanna or the books she writes, visit her website http://shannahatfield.com or find out more about her here: linktr.ee/ShannaHatfield

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For Liberty and Love Blitz

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In the Wake of Gods - The Abyss Borne Gods Book 2 - Epic Dark Fantasy - and a Giveaway #EpicDarkFantasy #Giveaway

Kent Priore is here to tell us about In the Wake of Gods, an epic dark fantasy.

There's also a great giveaway.

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Seth thought God was dead...

but ideas tend to linger. 

In the Wake of Gods

The Abyss Borne Gods Book 2

by Kent Priore

Genre: Epic Dark Fantasy

“Kent Priore writes like a natural about the supernatural. American fiction has found a terrific new voice.”
—Joseph O’Neill, PEN/Faulkner Award-Winning Author of Netherland

Standing amidst the destruction of Magistrum, great sorrow and guilt weighs upon Seth as he keeps the memory of his mistake close—to continue his growth, to remain good. A concern which lingers through the birth of his daughter, Persephone, labeled a True Born God by the personification of the White Abyss. And due to the sudden death of her uncle, Persephone’s abyssal powers emerge in a destructive way, tearing a hole through the fabric of the world. Thus, solidifying Seth’s worries of managing his own struggles while being father to a god who resembles his past far too much.

Feeling Persephone’s powerful aura pulsate through dimensions, both antagonistic forces begin pursuing her, wanting to eliminate a threat, and make her power theirs. Alongside these heavy stressors, Seth must also deal with the inevitability of Sasha dying the same mysterious way as the other Guild members.

The Earth devolves into a wasteland as the gods ravish the globe, devouring every human they can find. All the while Seth, Sasha, their daughter, and others lay in hiding, waiting for the right moment to strike back, to resist the will of the Abyssian gods—but can they without sacrificing everything they worked so hard to achieve? And will Seth, so burdened by his past actions, endure this, or will he devolve into the monster he once was…the monster he fears his daughter will also become?

Fans of "Jerusalem" by Alan Moore, “The Bell Jar” by Sylvia Plath, or “The Master and Margarita” by Mikhail Bulgakovor will enjoy “The Monsters Among Us.”

 

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The pitch-black night splits apart as two dark clouds go their separate ways. A large full moon looms overhead, filtering its borrowed light through the open window of Persephone’s bedroom.

The young girl tosses and turns, with soft animalistic grunts emerging from her. Gritting her teeth, twitching, flitting about, she whimpers as a large weight festers like cancer within her. A multitude of pressures, cramping with tightness in her tiny chest. Aching for release. A god, trapped in the frame of a small girl.

Tremors ripple through her body, intensifying further and further, and—she screeches.

Persephone sits erect, her eyes closed, mouth agape. Breathing in deeply, her head arches back, her eyes peel open, and rays of white light shine out from her skull, as she begins sucking in a tremendous amount of air in one, unending gulp. The bright yellow moon distorts and wobbles and sways like water, and at one edge begins to spill into a bright golden river. Stretching further and further, like toothpaste through its tube. The stream descends toward the Earth, creating a glittering strand of moon dust, stretching across thousands and thousands of miles until reaching Persephone’s window, and spilling into her mouth—

“Persephone?” Seth bursts in. “What’s wro—”

Sasha follows in from behind, stricken in awe alongside him. “Persephone? Persephone!” she shouts, running over and throwing her arms around the girl.

Seth hurries over to the window, watching the stream of moon dust spill into his daughter’s mouth. Reaching toward the stretched-out moon, specks of dust displace from the stream, glittering its golden sheen around his fingertips. Looking out and up through the window, he finds the once full moon half dissolved, crumbled away like sand.

“What is happening?” Andes says, appearing in the doorway. Mikhail stands at his side, nuzzling his sleepy eyes with the back of his hands before waking to the commotion before him.

“She’s not responding!” Sasha says.

Seth rushes over. “That light…no, it’s happening again.” Sasha yanks her gaze toward Seth, alarmed. “It happened earlier today, while reading…this white glow—and this pressure. It’s the Abyss. No doubt.”

“My apologies,” Andes says, “But we have larger concerns at the moment. If she consumes the moon, its absence will devastate the Earth!”

Seth breathes in heavily. A doomsday event in the middle of the night. She’s my daughter, that’s for sure. “Clear the room!” he shouts, his eyes illuminated with white abyssal flame. “I’m going to try something.”

Sasha rises, inching away slowly. Her gaze locked too fiercely onto Persephone. Seth places a hand on her shoulder, gesturing with his head for her to step aside. A hollow sensation takes root in Sasha as she ambles over to Andes.

Seth hovers his right palm over Persephone’s face, curling his fingers in a circular motion. Hand shaking, the pull of the moon dust river is too severe, continuing its descent into the depths of Persephone—setting his entire body ablaze with white flame, Sasha and Andes feel a gravitation shift pulling toward Seth. Mikhail clings to Andes’s sleeve, fearing his feet would be swept up in the sudden, unnatural wind current rushing through their enclosed home. And though the fire is bright, it does not burn. It does not scorch nor warm.

The moon dust begins to retract. Rising from Persephone’s throat, she gargles and gags.

Seth’s eyes glow brighter, and a portal opens at the far end of the room, creating yet another gravitational pull. Beyond the portal lay a vast darkness, sprinkled with glimmering stars. Sasha, Andes, and Mikhail huddle together, clinging fiercely to the doorframe while Seth and Persephone’s abyssal weight holds them steady. The last of the moon dust ejects from her stomach, and the white glow of her eyes disappears. Waking up, she’s suddenly lifted into the air by the vacuum of space—she thuds against Seth’s big right arm, brought close to his side. With the flick of his left hand, the moon dust flings into the darkness, followed by a pillar of abyssal flame erupting from his palm. Gravity reverts to normal as the portal closes.

Rushing to the window, they find the wobbling moon slowly steadying itself. Aglow with abyssal flame, searing the fabric of the world back together, it reforms into the same bright full moon as before.

“I can’t believe that worked,” Andes says. Sasha stares in awe of Seth, but with an ever-deepening scowl sinking into her face.

“I had a hunch. The words she pulled from the book pages floated back into form once she snapped out of it. The abyssal flame was an added precaution.” Seth collapses onto Persephone’s bed. The young girl cocks her head in confusion at her father’s exhaustion.

Andes, noticing the looks on both parents, steps toward Persephone. “You two get some rest. I’ll tuck the youngsters back into bed.”

“You sure?” asks Sasha.

“Never more sure in my life! Now, go.”

Glancing tiredly at each other, Seth and Sasha hurry back to their room.

Andes pulls a chair up to the bed and takes the book he gave her years ago from the nearby nightstand. Mikhail hops into bed beside Persephone, both children content beneath the covers as Andes begins to read a story.

Persephone smiles widely toward her uncle. With no memory of what had just occurred, she relishes what’s to come. A story told by her loving uncle, her most favorite of things.

The Monsters Among Us

The Abyss Borne Gods Book 1

“Kent Priore writes like a natural about the supernatural, and The Monsters Among Us is a marvelously dark and true novel. American fiction has found a terrific new voice.”
—Joseph O’Neill, PEN/Faulkner Award-Winning Author of Netherland

Seth’s life until now has been a product of a diabolical, evil Truman Show, his entire upbringing a façade orchestrated for malevolent purposes. After his beloved dies, he undergoes a demonic metamorphosis, which causes the world’s fictitious walls to crumble.

As he tries to piece a semblance of his life back together and move on, he meets friends who inspire, but even more harsh truths are revealed, perhaps too difficult to cope with.

The very existence of life and reality is exposed as a machination of grotesque gods. And to defeat them, Seth will have to fill his emptiness, for which there’s only two options…
Bring the world to ruin, or learn to transmute his pain into strength.

Fans of "Jerusalem" by Alan Moore, “The Bell Jar” by Sylvia Plath, or “The Master and Margarita” by Mikhail Bulgakovor will enjoy “The Monsters Among Us.”

“I was intrigued from the first sentence, determined to spend the night speed-reading so I didn't have to remain in suspense any longer.”
-Ella Dupuie, author of Fractures of the Fallen

“Supernatural storytelling at its best, this vivid cinematic novel takes the reader on an imaginative journey through what could be considered end of days. The Monster’s Among Us is a masterful creation and a must read—even for those who aren’t fans of fantasy/horror.”
—Joni Marie Iraci MFA author of Vatican Daughter

 

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  “You've been gifted with versatile magic. Fire can destroy, but it can also create. You are a forge that bellows with hellfire. Make use of it. I have found that magic is best used in creative and unprecedented ways. Even the dullest magic knows few limits. Magic does what the mind wills it to do.”

  I start to run after Gluttony. I keep the image of those poor kids in my mind. The rage in me intensifies. My new demon body in combination with my anger makes me fast, but not fast enough. I can still see Gluttony in the distance, but he’s leaving my field of view more with each passing second.

  My mind is coated red with the image of the flattened children. Like a shark who had just picked up the scent of blood, my adrenalin surges, and I can feel a manic fit overtaking me. My perception is flooded in a crazed haze. I feel limitless, as if I can do anything. This is a feeling I know well. I felt it when I decided to return home to Crowley and burn it all to the ground.

  Where's that voice, huh? Not going to tell me to stop this time?

  {No.}

  Why not?

  There’s no answer.

  Whatever.

  With nothing to hold me back, I really am limitless. Instinct takes over. I conjure my flames, but not with the intent to attack. I stretch my arms behind me and point my hands straight back. Fire erupts from my palms, propelling me forward. I take flight at a much greater speed than my legs can reach. I hurtle through the air, struggling to maintain balance. Like a cannonball I blast my way through trees and homes alike. Planks of wood and support beams scatter about in chaos.

  I wonder about the people living in these homes. Are they safe? Have I killed them? I don’t care. I feel useful to Melphis for the first time, and my bloodlust is reaching glorious heights as Gluttony's body grows larger in my view. We are passing the border into New Mexico at intense speeds. Before I know it, we have passed into Colorado, the foot of the Rocky Mountains in sight. He appears to slow down. What is he looking for here?

  He comes to an abrupt stop, pulling up the ground beneath his tentacles as he does so. I keep my speed and make my descent. I plummet hard upon his back. His tentacles give out, causing his large body to fall to the ground. A thundering crash shakes the surrounding space.

  “Who's there?” Gluttony roars. “Wait, no—Greed? You smell like my brother!”

  For a dumb brute, he’s quick to piece things together. He rises, supporting himself with six of his eight tentacles. The other two pursue me. One slithers behind and wraps itself around me. The sludge-like tentacles are as strong as they are giant. I struggle but remain motionless. The heat rises again. I feel empty, but from that emptiness arises my rage which festers and grows ever more passionate. Flames overtake my body. I can feel the slime of his tentacles melting away, like sweat dripping off me.

    "Fuck you!" I roar. The blood-stained clothes of those helpless children rush back to me, then so do the memories of my own ruined childhood. The flames increase and grow hotter until the whole tentacle catches fire. It burns away at a fierce speed. Ashes flutter away as black sludge spills out from the now open hole in his hard shell. Gluttony roars and his tentacles squirm like a spider that has just been stepped on.

    I climb on top of his hard shell and beat down my fists with reckless abandon. It withstands my punches, at first. I can feel my strength rising alongside my rage until at last, cracks form. The fractures stretch wider with each punch. Gluttony moans as they grow deeper. Melphis called him a transporter. Just what is he protecting with this dense outer layer?

    My focus intensifies and locks onto the growing fissure in his shell. My mind goes blank. All that exists is this shell, the sensation of my knuckles bashing into it, and the white flashes of rough skin being blown away in shrouds of dust. He is mine—he'll pay—I'll make him pay—for those kids—for me—

    The back of my head is hit by a dense, wet object and I am knocked off the beast. My body shatters the trunks of a few trees as I make my descent.

    {Your lack of focus has made you blind to the monster's many tentacles.}

    "Shut u—" I choke.

    Gluttony's enormous face is now mere feet away from mine. My elation fades as I watch the skyscraper-devouring mouth open at its four hinges. A long snake-like tongue emerges out of utter darkness. It coils itself around my body before his teeth drop down, devouring me along with much of the landscape. I feel my body now coated in slime, as it slides down Gluttony’s throat. The darkness of the pit consumes me.

Graduated from Bard College with a BA in the Written Arts, Kent Priore is an author of dark literature, genre-blending epics and vignettes, where dark romanticism meets modern psychology for a macabre but hopeful depiction of inner struggle and the human ability to endure, and perhaps even prevail. He has a fascination with humanity and is one of the few to believe that despite our many weaknesses, we are far stronger than we often think. He wishes to show that strength to those darker individuals, burdened by lonesomeness, poor mental health, and other forces perceived to be out of their control, as well as show them that all is not lost.

 

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