Pity Please - Pity Series #7 - Contemporary Romantic Comedy - and a Giveaway #Romance #ContemporaryRomance #RomanticComedy #RomCom #Giveaway

Whitney Dineen is here to tell us about her contemporary romantic comedy Pity Please, Pity Series #7.

There's also a great giveaway.

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Pity Please

Whitney Dineen

(Pity Series, #7)

Publication date: October 25th 2025

Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

She had a foolproof plan. He thought his future was sealed. Neither of them imagined life would take them down a different path …

Allie

I never planned to live in Elk Lake again, but here I am. I was going to get married, have a great family and career, and then I’d get my happily-ever-after stamped on the passport of my life.

But Brett cheated and got his mistress pregnant with quadruplets. Karma was my consolation and believe me when I tell you, I couldn’t have been more satisfied by the outcome.

Just as I was busy with my fresh start, Noah Riley walked back into my life. I’ve always worshipped my best friend’s older brother, but he never noticed me.

Until that one day …

Noah

What coach gets demoted after taking their high school basketball team all the way to third in the state? Me, that’s who.

I could have gotten any other job in Chicago, but my anger and hurt pride caused me to accept a position at my alma mater. That’s right, I’m the new basketball coach of the Elk Lake Crappies. Don’t think the irony is lost on me.

My goal is to make a splash with my new team, and then have my old school beg to hire me back. Of course, I won’t accept until there’s an appropriate amount of groveling, along with a substantial pay raise.

When I moved to Elk Lake, I never expected to run into my sister’s best friend from childhood.

Who knew Allie Rogers would make me reconsider my dream?

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

Instead of agreeing that I should be the captain of my own ship, my mother laments, “I always thought your life would turn out like one of those delightful romcoms from the nineteen nineties. You know, single girl meets the love of her life in a quirky, yet totally believable way …”

I’m not sure which movie she’s thinking of as I’ve grown up watching them all with her. On repeat.

“Which Julia Roberts character did you envision me being? If it’s Vivian Ward in Pretty Woman, I’ll have to move to LA and become a sex worker first.” My mom pushes out of my arms and stares at me in horror.

Instead of letting the subject drop, I feel a burst of indignant steam start to build. “If you want me to be like Anna Scott in Knotting Hill, I’ll also have to move to LA, but this time I’ll have to figure out how to become a movie star. Then I’ll need to find an abusive boyfriend so I can cheat on him with a bookstore owner in London.” How does she find these to be believable scenarios?

Hurt tinges her voice as she responds, “What about Jules Potter in My Best Friend’s Wedding?”

“She didn’t even wind up with the guy!” I shout.

“How about the Runaway Bride?” This woman is relentless.

“I would have to get engaged three times so I could dump three men before my true love showed up to write an article about my chaotic life,” I remind her.

My mom’s face screws up in an agonizing expression like she’s painfully wracking her brain. “Maybe not a Julia Roberts movie then. What about Sandra Bullock? Her romcoms were more girl-next-door, which is exactly what you are.”

Raising my hand into the air, I start ticking off fingers. “While You Were Sleeping would involve nearly killing someone in a train accident so I could lie to the victim’s family and fall for his brother. In Miss Congeniality, I’d have to be an FBI agent masquerading as Miss New Jersey. Hope Floats would get me that husband and child you so badly want me to have but said husband would have to dump me on national television before running off with my best friend. Do you want me to go on?” I demand.

Confusion riddles my mom’s features resulting in my feeling an unexpected wave of compassion for her. “I don’t want any of that for you. I just want you to have a beautiful and happy ending to your story.”

“My story is a long way from being over, Mom.” I’m not going to tell her that my vision of the future is nothing like what she’s hoping for. As in, I’m pretty sure I’ll never let myself be vulnerable enough to give love a second chance. I know for certain I will never have my own children. Three lost pregnancies are enough for me to take the hint.

My mother inhales deeply before telling me, “I’m not good at leaving things in the hands of fate.”

“No, you’re not. You’re the worst control freak I know, but that doesn’t mean you’ve been appointed God and get to make all the decisions for my life.”

“I don’t want to make all the decisions. I just want you to start living again!”

“I’m enough on my own, Mom. I don’t have to be a wife to have value.” I can tell I’ve hurt her feelings again, but what else can I do? It’s like we’re two different species with zero understanding of how the other works.

With hands on hips, she demands, “What’s your five-year plan?”

“To still be breathing,” I tell her honestly.

“Do you ever want to get back into publishing?”

I offer a brief shrug. “Can’t say.”

“Do you plan on working at Rosemary’s for the rest of your life?”

“Would there be anything wrong with that? Would you not be able to love me anymore if I don’t get the Hollywood ending you’ve always imagined for me?”

My mom’s face turns bright red, which is a sure indicator she’s about to lose her cool. But instead of screaming at me, she merely turns around and strides out of the dining room like she’s on her way to execute a military coup. Napoleon had nothing on this woman.

I take her reaction to my question to mean that her love is dependent on my capitulation to her vision. Well, too freaking bad, Margaret. I’m not going to try to make you happy when I don’t even know what will make me happy.

My phone pings before I can stand up and clear the remnants of my uneaten breakfast. Picking it up, I click on the message notification and read a text from Lorelai.

Lorelai: Noah is driving me crazy! I’ve been asking him to put my navy-blue cashmere sweater in the mail for a week, and he hasn’t done it. Would you mind going over to my parents’ house and sending it? The key is under the mat.

My nervous system responds by causing me to break out into a cold sweat. I do not want to see Noah Riley. To be honest, I hate that he’s moved back to Elk Lake. There is no place in my life for my childhood crush. He’s part of my past and I will not go out of my way to run into him again.

Having said that, Lorelai is my best friend, and she never asks for anything. Shoot! I’m going to have to do it. I’ll just have to make sure to go when Noah isn’t there.

Author Bio:

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

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

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

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

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

Finalist RONE Awards, 2016.

Finalist at the IRFA 2016, 2017.

Finalist at the Book Excellence Awards, 2017

Finalist Top Shelf Indie Book Awards, 2017

 

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / X / Instagram

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Toil and Trouble - Romantic Horror Halloween Anthology - and a Giveaway #RomanticHorror #HalloweenAnthology #Giveaway

The authors of Toil and Trouble, a romantic horror Halloween anthology are here to tell you about their tales.

There's also a great giveaway.

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This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The authors 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.

The brew is hot and bubbling over with romance and terror in this twistedly beautiful anthology that welcomes the darkness of horror and the temptation of love's veiled promises. Six remarkable tales from six incredible authors fill this book of dark shadows and ancient whispers.

Fire Burn and Cauldron Bubble - by Jennifer Patricia O'Keeffe: Enchanted pastries and spell-brewed coffee make Esmerelda's sugar-dusted counter the city's most coveted haunt—until a dangerously charming newcomer slips into her shop, immune to her magic and unraveling her carefully guarded world. As his witch-hunter heritage threatens to burn her legacy to ash, Esmerelda finds herself torn between the threat of revenge from the witch hunter's ancestors and the intoxicating truth of the connection that they share.

Silverwood - by Lynn Hubbard: A lonely rancher's daughter finds her isolated Wyoming homestead upended when an amber-eyed stranger ignites a mud-splattered passion that defies reason—until his supernatural secret and the vengeful ranch hands hunting her force her to choose between the man who saves her and the monster who might destroy her. Torn between fierce protectors and forbidden desire, she must trust the very darkness that could shatter her world to survive the wild frontier's deadliest threats.

Ivy, Lichens and Wallflowers - by James Ryan: Marketing executive Hilda finds solace from her stifling corporate life and overbearing past in the quiet companionship of Miriam, a mysterious 19th-century marble statue in a city micro-park, only to discover their connection transcends stone when Miriam begins answering her handwritten notes through cryptic poetry left in return. As their forbidden connection deepens into an intoxicating dream-bound romance, Hilda uncovers Miriam's supernatural secret: she's a cursed thaumaturge sustained by stolen life force, forcing Hilda to confront whether love can survive the devastating cost of keeping her alive.

A Mirror to Die For - by Cindy Lewis Smith: A desperate woman finds solace in an antique mirror that whisks her nightly to 1880s Arizona, where a charming outlaw named Johnny Ringo fulfills every fantasy—until her jealous fiancé shatters the glass and vanishes, leaving her trapped in an asylum screaming that he is the real monster, a man who shouldn't exist: Dr. John Henry Holliday, the gambler who killed Ringo a century ago. Now, with "MPR" carved into her cell walls and time itself unraveling, she'll stop at nothing to prove her sanity by proving time travel is real—even if it means unleashing the very darkness that destroyed her.

Flight 1031: Cosmic Turbulence - by Julian Christian: Diplomatic courier Sarah Martinez boards Flight 1031 expecting routine turbulence, not a Halloween dimensional rift that strands her at Germania International Airport—where the Greater German Reich has ruled since 1943 and perfected technology to harvest souls from parallel realities through consciousness-scanning machinery that pulses with seventeen-beat rhythms. Now trapped in a terminal that breathes like a living organism, Sarah must navigate a world where every passenger hides a secret and her resistance could either save her timeline or doom infinite versions of humanity to eternal enslavement in a Reich that spans all dimensions.

Dream a Little Dream - by Jae El Foster: After a near-death car crash rewires her brain, Sarah's nightmares bleed into reality: sugar on the counter forms glyphs, bats appear out of nowhere in broad daylight, and her own hands betray her—while the velvet-eyed stranger from her dreams appears in her waking hours, his urgency growing as Halloween's veil thins. Now, with her reality twisting into something surreal and an ancient language hijacking her voice, she must confront a dark truth: her soul isn't hers to keep, and the man who saved her in death is the very entity hunting her in life.

Read an Excerpt From ‘A Mirror to Die For’ by Cindy Lewis Smith

"May I have a glass of water?" I asked.

I'm just so uncomfortable. These clothes I am wearing are itchy and stained. I have no recollection of purchasing this outfit. It's definitely not mine nor my style. My hair feels gritty and needs to be washed and brushed. Any day now my fiancé John Henry, some people call him Doc, will be bringing me my own clothes and makeup, and a new hair brush too. I know he will. I can't wait to see him. It's been so long.

In fact, I don't know where he could be. The last time I saw him we argued, but that was the way it was for us. I'd forgive him and we would go on as if nothing happened. This chair is uncomfortable. The seat is worn out and the softness of the padding has long gone. I have to keep squirming and readjusting my body just to be able to endure the sitting.

I noticed the clock on the wall directly in front of me. It's one of those large heavy clocks, probably weighing fifty pounds or more. There's a picture of the Eiffel Tower in the face of the clock. The word Paris is written in a pretty script over the tower. I doubt anyone in this place has ever been to Paris. It's on my bucket list. John Henry and I may honeymoon in Paris once we're married, although he's been talking about going back to Georgia instead.

To distract my thoughts in the silence of this morbidly uncomfortable room, I envision the clock falling and crashing to the floor, leaving a giant hole in the wall where the nail would be. I imagine that the glass in the clock has broken into thousands of tiny pieces. Sharp pointy shards of glass are scattered throughout the room, glittering like diamonds on velvet. Aren't they so pretty?

"I'm sorry, I lost my train of thought."

"Go on," he said, "Tell me more about what happened to John Henry"

I love talking about John Henry. My story, it's all true, you know. Every single word. I wouldn't have believed it myself if it didn't happen to me.

I readjusted myself one more time in the chair and continued.

"It all started the day I purchased the mirror," I explained.

"You see, I hadn't slept but maybe four or five restless hours the entire previous week. My life had become mundane and boring. The excitement was gone between me and John Henry. His demeanor had changed. He said it wasn't him, it was me who had changed. But, I knew he was lying."

He never told me any truths. Not anything about his past or what he did when he left me. Sometimes, I felt like he was only using me. Like I was a mysterious link or something between what he used to be and what he wanted to be now. It's hard to explain, it was probably nothing more than my imagination.

John Henry was just so ruggedly handsome, I couldn't help myself, so I forgave him often when we argued. Maybe because of our fighting and torrent relationship, the headaches were coming more and more frequently. And, more intense.

I refused to take the prescription medication I was given. Those pills... those little pink and red pills! NO! No, not those pills again. I couldn't take it anymore. I tossed the prescription bottle into the trash can and grabbed the keys to my car on my way out the door. I heard the door slam behind me and I didn't look back. I was not going to think about John Henry, if only for one day.

"My old Chevy was stuttering and in need of some repairs, but it didn't stop me from driving wherever I wanted to go. And that day, I wanted to go across the border. It was a warm day in late September, with barely a breeze moving through the dry air. I was wearing a big straw hat, the same kind the Chiquita Banana woman wears on the TV commercials, a pair of dark sunglasses and shoes that flipped back and forth on my feet."

I was getting low on gas so I coasted into an old, mostly deserted town in southern Arizona. It was just a few miles or so, maybe thirty or forty minutes across the border. I didn't want to take a chance on stalling out the car. Service stations out there are few and far between. I parked my car on a dust covered side street and strolled to the downtown area of this dusty little town.

Some old-timers were outside sitting on benches that lined the wooden sidewalks of the streets. Their wrinkled cheeks were swollen on one side from a wad of chewing tobacco. A dirty brass spittoon was centered on the sidewalk between them. I could feel them staring at me. You know that kind of stare implying that I didn't belong there, that I'm out of place.

Buy the Book

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FS7DXSXX
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1849875
Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/toil-and-trouble-jae-el-foster/1148244179
Apple:https://books.apple.com/us/book/x/id6752260026
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/toil-and-trouble-17

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Free Fall: Escape from Xanadu - Lesbian Science Fiction Romance #Romance #Lesbian #ScienceFiction #SciFi #LesbianScienceFictionRomance

Lisabet Sarai is here to tell us about Free Fall: Escape from Xanadu, lesbian science fiction romance.

Read on for details...

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Free Fall: Escape from Xanadu

By Lisabet Sarai

Lesbian science fiction romance

Heat level: Explicit (5 flames)

AMAZON US - AMAZON UK

SMASHWORDS - B&N - KOBO

BOOKS2READ UNIVERSAL LINK

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Blurb:

Forbidden love lights the darkest reaches of space

Welcome to Xanadu. For its elite customers, a space-based paradise of pleasure. For the slaves who work there, hell orbiting Earth. 

Innocent and inexperienced, Mariel Linderman sells herself to Xanadu to rescue her farming family from starvation. Streetwise Rain Delgado accepts assignment as a Pleasure Rep in lieu of a prison sentence for murder. In a world that strictly prohibits same-sex relations, the passion that flares between them brings terrible risks. Their unexpected heart-and-soul connection turns their already precarious existence into a clandestine struggle for survival.

 

A Word from Lisabet:

The Mysteries of Inspiration

My new novella Free Fall began with an impulse purchase. Just of fun, I was browsing the website of one of my favorite artists, James Help (https://goonwrite.com). His strikingly original pre-made covers always impress me, while his hilariously snarky demo titles often have me laughing out loud. Most of the time, unfortunately, the genres on which he focuses don’t match my work very well. On this visit, however, I noticed a cover that really spoke to me. It featured an evocative image of two beautiful women, one blonde and one brunette, sitting close together in some sort of a futuristic night club.

I didn’t have a book for this cover, but the drama and passion lurking in that image were so strong that I just had to buy it. The JPG file sat, untitled, on my hard disk for more than a year while I worked on other projects. Finally I cleared my WIP backlog and started thinking about what to write next. I pulled up the draft cover and got the same punch-in-the-gut feeling about the women that I’d experienced when I first saw it. I realized that I had to write their story—even though, at the start, I had no idea, aside from their obvious mutual attraction,  what that story might be.

Creating Free Fall was far more difficult that most of my writing projects. Usually when I begin a book, I have at least a mental outline, with the major events and the expected ending already established. With this novella, I was feeling my way, trying to discover just who Rain and Mariel were, why they were in love, and how they were going to survive. When I sat down to write the first chapter, it flowed onto the page, desperately erotic. After that, though, I really had to dig. The fact that this was science fiction made things even harder; that genre requires a delicate balance between imagination and plausibility. And sometimes too much thought and calculation can stifle inspiration.

Now that the book’s done, I’m pretty happy with it. It captures the sense of danger I felt when I first saw the cover, as well as the love-and-lust connection between the two protagonists.

I only hope my readers agree.

Excerpt (Adult - Explicit):

They don’t speak. They can’t speak, with their mouths welded together in a feverish kiss. Rain tastes like that atrocious Martian brandy that’s become so popular. She smells of male sweat and designer aftershave. Mariel doesn’t care. She runs her hands down along Rain’s strong back, feeling the muscles shift under the synthetic smoothness of the other woman’s jumpsuit. Pressing her body against Rain’s, she holds tight as her lover pins her against the wall. Their breasts mash together, the double layer of fabric between them slippery and frustrating.

“Damn it!” Rain lets go long enough to grab Mariel’s zipper and drag it down below the waist. She pushes the one-piece garment off Mariel’s shoulders, then hones in on her throbbing nipple, sucking hard.

Mariel gasps as lightning arcs from her exposed breast to her cunt. Rain rakes her teeth across the sensitive nub of flesh before transferring her mouth to the opposite nipple. At the same time, she forces a hand into the crotch of Mariel’s coverall and slides a firm fingertip over her rigid clit.

The transition from anxiety to desire is instantaneous. After all, they have no time to waste. Mariel grips Rain’s shoulders and humps her fingers, deeply embedded now in Mariel’s slick folds. A climax swells in her depths, gathering power second by second until it launches as a fiery explosion of pleasure. Her knees buckle but Rain holds her tight, one arm around her waist while the other hand still plays in Mariel’s pussy. Those knowing fingers awaken new cataclysms of bliss. Helpless, grateful, Mariel shudders through another fierce release.

About Lisabet Sarai:

LISABET SARAI writes in many genres, but F/F fiction is one of her favorites. Her lesbian erotica and romance credits include contributions to Lambda Award winner Where the Girls Are (“Rush Hour”), Ippie-winning Carnal Machines (“Her Own Devices”), Best Lesbian Romance 2012 (“Clean Slate”), Forbidden Fruit: Stories of Unwise Lesbian Desire (“The First Stone”), Best Lesbian Erotica 2015 (“The Late Show”) and Lammy-nominated Coming Together: Girl on Girl (“Sundae, Bloody Sundae”).  She has also published a number of standalone lesbian titles including historical tale By Moonlight and high-spirited paranormal romance The Witches of Gloucester.

Lisabet holds more degrees than anyone would ever need, from prestigious educational institutions who would no doubt be deeply embarrassed by her explicit literary endeavors. She has traveled widely and currently lives in Southeast Asia, where she pursues an alternative career that is completely unrelated to her writing. For all the dirt on Lisabet, visit her website (http://www.lisabetsarai.com) or her blog Beyond Romance (http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com).

Social Links

Lisabet’s Fantasy Factory (website): http://www.lisabetsarai.com

Beyond Romance (blog): http://lisabetsarai.blogspot.com

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Lisabet-Sarai/e/B001K8PADS

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/profile/view/LSarai

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/83387.Lisabet_Sarai

BookBub:  https://www.bookbub.com/profile/lisabet-sarai

Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/lisabetsarai

Bluesky: https://https//bsky.app/profile/lisabetsarai.bsky.social

Medium: https://medium.com/@lisabet_63394

Mailing list signup:  https://btn.ymlp.com/xgjjhmhugmgh

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Jenny Kidd - Thriller - Romantic Suspense - and a Giveaway #Thriller #Romantic Suspense #Giveaway

Laury A. Egan is here to tell us about Jenny Kidd, thriller - romantic suspense.

There's also a great giveaway.

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Enter a world of glittering facades that cloak sexual perversion, art forgery & murder

Jenny Kidd

by Laury A. Egan

Genre: Thriller, Romantic Suspense

“A twisted and sinister affaire macabre.”—R.D. Hartwell

While spending autumn in Venice, a young American artist, Jenny Kidd, hopes to create a portfolio of paintings to launch her career and establish her independence from her tyrannical father. At the Guggenheim Collection, she encounters Randi, a colorful British woman, who invites her to a masked ball at the Palazzo Barbon. There, she meets the seductive Caterina Barbon and her brother, Sebastiano, who entice Jenny into a world of glittering façades that cloak sexual perversion, art forgery, and murder. As Jenny struggles between her attraction to Caterina and her growing awareness that she is in danger, Jenny discovers an inner strength and spirit worthy of her infamous pirate ancestor.

“A little gem...a top-notch thriller…Jenny Kidd spins its web as languidly as an afternoon by the canals. Egan’s descriptions of the food, the art, and the general atmosphere are as purposeful as they are evocative. Her prose is full-bodied and elegant, and she makes prosecco and prosciutto as sumptuous as the work of Titian and Tintoretto. As delicious as Egan’s writing is when it comes to describing masked balls, four-course lunches, and miniatures painted in pastels, she also knows how to propel a mean action scene. The last twenty pages or so are a breathless rush of dark passageways, tense interrogations, and perfectly executed gore that leave you gasping and satisfied.”
—Jerry L. Wheeler, Out in Print

“A very compelling suspense novel, rife with stunning imagery and shocking plot beats. An eerie, glittering world.”
—Jennica Dotson, author of “A Reaper’s Folly”

“The plot becomes…dizzying in its twists and turns. Not only does this book offer a riveting story, but her sentences have a cadence that will carry you along. Once I had reached the half-way point in the book, I found it impossible to put it down.”
—Martha Miller, G & L Review

 

Amazon * Bookbub * Goodreads

Laury A. Egan is the author of fifteen books of fiction: Jenny Kidd (revised edition); Fair Haven; Jack & I; The Black Leopard’s Kiss & The Writer Remembers; The Psychologist’s Shadow; The Firefly; Once, Upon an Island; Wave in D Minor; Doublecrossed; Turnabout; The Swimmer; The Ungodly Hour; A Bittersweet Tale; Fabulous! An Opera Buffa; and The Outcast Oracle. Two collections have been published; Contrary: Stories and a Play and Fog and Other Stories. Her short fiction and poems have appeared in 90 literary journals and in multiple anthologies. Two full-length poetry volumes, Snow, Shadow, a Stranger and Beneath the Lion's Paw, were issued in limited editions, as were two chapbooks, Presence & Absence and The Sea & Beyond. Laury is also a fine arts photographer, instructor, and former book designer. She lives on the northern coast of New Jersey.

 

Website * Facebook * X * Instagram * Amazon * Goodreads

Follow the tour HERE for special content and a $10 giveaway!

Jenny Kidd

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Ghosts of Border House - Paranormal Romances - and a Giveaway #Romance #ParanormalRomance #PNR #Giveaway

The authors of The Ghosts of Border House are here to tell us about their paranormal romances.

There's also a great giveaway.

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Experience centuries of Scottish hospitality—whether you're breathing or not.

Series Intro:

Border House has stood on the River Tweed since 1100, witnessing centuries of Scottish history and accumulating many permanent residents along the way. This ancient fortified manor, once a hunting lodge and defensive tower, now serves as both a charming hotel and an unintentional retirement home for spirits who can’t or won’t move on to the next realm.

The house is home to a medieval king, a turncoat scribe, a lonesome English soldier, two Victorian ladies, one unhappy go-go girl, a Scottish Brewmaster, and more. Each ghost brings their own quirks, complaints, and centuries-old drama to daily life at Border House. Whether you’re a living guest checking in for the weekend or a long-dead resident who’s been here for ages, everyone has a story to tell.

Welcome to Border House—where checkout time is optional, and some guests have been extending their stay for centuries.

This series features standalone paranormal romances written by various authors.

Love Lost & Found

The Ghosts of Border House Book 1

by Vanessa Victoria Kilmer

Genre: Paranormal Romance 

When a love haunts every lifetime, you have to grab it and hold on.

 

In 1566, Thomas Kincaid is murdered at Border House by agents of the Scottish King. Thinking himself betrayed by his soulmate, Sara Mae Stuart, Thomas curses her to a life of reincarnation with his dying breath.

 

When Sara Mae dies of a broken heart, she is reborn again and again.

 

After 450 years of reincarnation, Sara Mae returns to Border House to perform a séance and break her curse. She discovers a host of unsettled spirits, each harboring their own hidden agendas, and Thomas, lurking inside her crystal ball. 

 

Can love survive revenge, guilt, and a quirky spiritual divide?

 

Amazon * Bookbub * Goodreads

 

The Brewmaster’s Kiss

The Ghosts of Border House Book 2

by Leah Miles

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Fifty-five years of longing, and a love that transcends death.

 

After fifty-five years, Nova Guthrie has returned to Scotland for the annual Halloween Ball at Border House. Or that is her excuse to return to the home of her youth and bid farewell to memories of her lost lover.

What she doesn’t know is that Donnal Stuart still haunts the grand mansion, along with a few other ghostly characters—one of whom will do everything she can to keep them apart.

This story is about true love and secret ghost powers bundled up in a haunting tale of second chances.

 

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Vanessa Victoria Kilmer told her first story to an angel who visited her when she was locked in a dark, medieval attic at the age of four.

She grew up in the Salzburg region of Austria, surrounded by fortified castles, primal salt mines, and the drama of ancient places. 

Her fiction teems with murder, magic, and madness. She explores the abuse inflicted by those closest to us and the various ways people deal with the damage.

She currently lives in northern Florida with her daughter, son-in-law, grandson and two black cats. Between writing novels, she paints, takes pictures with her white camera named Traitor and embroiders tapestries.

Please visit her website at vanessavictoriakilmer.com and sign up for her newsletter to get updates on current work in progress and new release information.

 

Website * Facebook * Instagram * Bluesky * TikTok * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads

 

Leah Miles writes romance and paranormal fiction from her small-town in South Georgia, where she lives with her husband and cocker spaniel while running an insurance agency and Airbnb business.

After a dozen years in news production at CNN, Leah Miles now manages an insurance agency and an Airbnb business in rural Georgia, while writing romantic suspense and paranormal romance featuring take-charge heroes and fierce heroines.

 

Website * Facebook * Instagram * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads

Follow the tour HERE for special content and a $10 giveaway!

Ghosts of Border House

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Chains - Kiss of Death MC - Motorcycle Club Romance #Romance #MC #MotorcycleClub #MCRomance #MotorcycleClubRomance

Marteeka Karland is here to tell us about Chains, Kiss of Death MC, a motorcycle club romance.

Read on for details...

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Kiss of Death MC

 

Motorcycle Club Romance, Suspense, Age Gap

Date Published: October 17, 2025

 

Three black cats. One grumpy biker. Fate’s about to get witchy. And wickedly hot.

Elvira – Halloween’s my favorite holiday, until one teeny mishap with my practice spell. Suddenly I’m homeless, stinking of swamp gas, and dragging three black cats into a biker compound… Where I meet Chains. Big, broody, and superstitious as hell, he glares at my “demon spawn” like they’re plotting his death. But the way he looks at me? Let’s just say my spell isn’t the only thing that’s likely to combust. He’s all hard muscle and harder attitude, and I can’t tell if he wants to banish me… or bend me over the couch and have his wicked way with me. I would definitely approve of option number two!

Chains -- I don’t fear much after nine years inside, but Ellie is chaos. She’s a walking disaster. Loud, messy, and makes Halloween look like a lifestyle, not a holiday. And her damn cats have me spooked. I tell myself she’s trouble. Too naïve. Too good. Then she kisses me, and suddenly I’m ready to sell my soul for another taste. My MC brothers think it’s funny. Screw em. Elvira’s mine. And if anyone touches her, I’ll burn this place to the ground.

 

WARNING: Chains contains memories of domestic abuse and manipulation. However, there is a happy-ever-after ending that will make you feel warm and fuzzy.

EXCERPT

 

Elvira

I stood in the center of my apartment, surveying the disaster zone that used to be my living room. The cauldron, which was actually just my favorite stock pot, lay on its side on the stove. Dark green liquid dripped steadily from the countertop by the stove onto the cheap linoleum floor. My witches’ brew experiment had gone spectacularly wrong, again, filling the air with a stench so foul it made my eyes water. I’d only wanted to create a love potion. Instead, I’d concocted what smelled like a demonic skunk had mated with rotting eggs in a garbage fire.

“It’s okay, babies,” I cooed to the three black cats, who’d retreated to their carriers the moment the pot bubbled over. “Mommy just had a tiny magical mishap.”

Lucifer hissed from behind his carrier door, his yellow eyes narrowed in judgment. Binx paced in tight circles, while Salem had his paws pressed against his nose. Even my familiars couldn’t stand the smell.

“I know, I know. I should have followed the recipe.” I pulled my tank top over my nose, breathing through the fabric. “But who has time to find owl feathers and moonwater on a Tuesday night?”

I flung open every window in my apartment, the October air rushing in but barely making a dent in the stench. The smoke detector, which had been screaming for ten minutes, finally quieted. Green sludge dripped from the ceiling above the stove where the potion had splattered during its violent eruption. My carefully arranged Halloween decorations were now coated in something that looked like radioactive snot.

“We can fix this,” I muttered to myself, only half convinced. “Just need some bleach, maybe an exorcism, definitely a new carpet…”

The pounding on my door made me jump. “Miss Blackheart!” Yeah. He didn’t sound happy. “Open the door right now!”

“Coming, Mr. Peterson!” I sang out in my cheeriest voice, frantically attempting to right the fallen cauldron. Green goo sloshed over my fingers, burning slightly. “Just freshening up!”

I wiped my hands on my black jeans and pulled my long hair back into a heavy ponytail. Taking a deep breath, I immediately regretted it as the fumes hit my lungs, I opened the door with my most innocent smile even as my eyes watered.

Mr. Peterson stood there, his face the color of an overripe tomato. The vein in his forehead throbbed with such intensity I worried it might burst. His nostrils flared before he clamped a hand over his nose as the wall of stink hit him.

“What in God’s name --” He choked, stumbling backward. “The entire building smells like… like…”

“Aromatherapy!” I offered brightly. “It’s a, um, rare Eastern technique for cleansing negative energy.”

His eyes bulged as he peered past me into the apartment. “Your ceiling is green! There’s smoke everywhere!”

“That’s part of the process?” My voice lifted higher with each word, betraying my desperation.

“The Johnsons in 3B are throwing up. Mrs. Wittlesby’s cat fainted. The Andersons’ dog is howling like it’s seen a ghost.” He thrust a piece of paper at me. “This is an eviction notice. You’re out, Miss Blackheart.”

I took the paper with trembling fingers. “But Mr. Peterson, I’ve always paid my rent on time, and --”

“I don’t care if you paid your rent in gold bars! You’ve violated every health code in existence. People are evacuating the damn building!” The longer he spoke, the louder he got. And he’d been pretty damned loud to start with.

Behind me, one of my cats let out a mournful yowl. “Those damn black cats of yours,” he muttered, making the sign of the cross. “I knew they were bad news.”

I felt my cheeks flush. “Don’t blame my cats for this. They’re innocent.”

“You have until tonight to get out,” he bellowed, gesturing wildly at my smoke-stained ceiling. “Eight hours! After that, I’m calling animal control for those beasts and the hazmat team for… whatever hellbrew you’ve cooked up in here.”

“But where am I supposed to go?” My voice cracked, the reality of my situation finally sinking in. “You can’t kick me out with no notice!”

“Not my problem. And it’s my damn building; I’ll do whatever the hell I want. Take it to court if you want. Don’t care. But until you get a court date, I want you out of here!” He stepped back, pulling a handkerchief over his nose. “I’ve put up with the stink for the last time. Eight hours, Miss Blackheart. Not a minute more.”

The door slammed in my face. I stood there, clutching the eviction notice, feeling the edges of panic creeping in. Sure, I could take him to court. He’d have to call the police to force me to leave and they wouldn’t make me unless there was a court order. But, honestly, I knew it was time to move on. I wasn’t ready to leave yet. I’d hoped to save a little more money before then. But maybe this was a sign.

My hands shook as I turned to face my ruined apartment. The clock on the wall shaped like a grinning skull showed it was already noon.

“Well, shit,” I whispered to no one in particular.

I sank down onto my potion-spattered couch, the eviction notice crumpling in my grip. My eyes burned, and not just from the fumes. I really wasn’t sure where I was going to go. I had a couple thousand dollars in my savings account, and a hundred in my checking to do me until payday. If I could find a new place that wasn’t too expensive, I might have enough for a security deposit and first month’s rent. If I was really lucky. And that was assuming I could find something in the next eight hours. Right. Not a snowball’s chance in hell.

I glanced at my phone, scrolling through the pitiful list of contacts until I came to Carrie’s number and took a deep breath. We weren’t exactly close friends, but she’d always been kind to me at the coffee shop where I worked weekends. She seemed like a really nice person. She’d offered me a place to crash the last time my landlord threatened to kick me out. I hadn’t taken her up on the offer then since I only knew her from the coffee shop, but I wasn’t sure I had many options at the moment.

The phone rang three times before she picked up. “Ellie! Hey!” She sounded excited. To hear from me?

“Hey.” I tried to keep my voice steady, but it wavered. “I’m so sorry to bother you, but I’m having a bit of an emergency.”

“Oh no, Ellie! What kind of emergency? Are you all right?” Carrie sounded distressed. She was such a sweet person I had no doubt she genuinely was distressed.

“I… um… may have accidentally created a biohazard in my apartment and gotten evicted?” I laughed, the sound hollow and desperate. “I need to be out by eight tonight, and I have nowhere to go, and I have my cats, and --” My voice broke, tears threatening.

There was a muffled commotion in the background. I could hear Carrie talking and other people responding, but it was like she had her hand over the speaker or something. I closed my eyes, bracing for rejection.

“Now drop me a pin and we’ll get over there.” Carrie sounded determined and, I thought, authoritative? Like she was the one giving the orders and everyone else was doing her bidding. So, I did as she instructed. “We’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

Relief flooded through me so fast I nearly dropped the phone. “We?” My voice came out a squeak. I knew Carrie’s man was a member of a local motorcycle club called Kiss of Death. Which I kind of liked the sound of, but it was still a motorcycle club. Honestly, though, I kind of thought the guys I’d met at the coffee shop were much safer than some of the people living in this building.

“Oh yeah! The girls are gonna get you a room ready while Hannah and I are bringing Knuckles and Hawk. We’ll get you packed up and out of there in no time.”

“I don’t want to cause anyone any trouble, Carrie. It’s bad enough I’m asking you guys for a place to stay.”

“Nonsense! We all want to help!” There was more racket in the background, then Carrie was back. “We’re bringing boxes and some big contractor bags. Anything you want to keep that’s soiled or smells too bad we can put in there and wash later. Be on the lookout for a blue Bronco.”

 

About the Author

Marteeka Karland is an international bestselling author who leads a double life as an erotic romance author by evening and a semi-domesticated housewife by day. Known for her down and dirty MC romances, Marteeka takes pleasure in spinning tales of tenacious, protective heroes and spirited, vulnerable heroines. She staunchly advocates that every character deserves a blissful ending, even, sometimes, the villains in her narratives. Her writings are speckled with intense, raw elements resulting in page-turning delight entwined with seductive escapades leading up to gratifying conclusions that elicit a sigh from her readers.

Away from the pen, Marteeka finds joy in baking and supporting her husband with their gardening activities. The late summer season is set aside for preserving the delightful harvest that springs from their combined efforts (which is mostly his efforts, but you can count it). To stay updated with Marteeka's latest adventures and forthcoming books, make sure to visit her website. Don't forget to register for her newsletter which will pepper you with a potpourri of Teeka's beloved recipes, book suggestions, autograph events, and a plethora of interesting tidbits.

 

Author on Instagram & TikTok: @marteekakarland

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