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.

______________________

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

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

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The Dead Hour - LGBT Paranormal Horror - and a 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.

_________________________

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

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

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

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Silver Spider - A Paranormal Murder Mystery Romance - Fantasy - LGBTQ+ #PNR #ParanormalRomance #MurderMystery #Fantasy #LGBTQ+

Lena Austin is here to tell us about Silver Spider, a paranormal murder mystery romance - fantasy and LGBTQ+.

Read on for details...

__________________

 

A Paranormal Murder Mystery Romance

Fantasy / Romance / LGBTQ+

Date Published: June 5, 2026

Publisher: Changeling Press

 

The secretive Duke of Aberystwyth has invited Madge Majesty to a murder mystery party, but he's the first victim!

Madge is a harpy, mystery writer, and amateur sleuth with a nose for murder. At her side is her faithful chauffeur, Hayden, who is a telekinetic ex-thief -- and a confirmed bachelor.

Now it's up to Madge to solve the whodunit. Her suspects are a motley assortment of inverts and very nervous heterosexuals, all of whom have more than just their sexual foibles to hide. Is it the cross-dressing vampire, the packless werewolf, the voyeuristic doctor, the gargoyle majordomo, or the promiscuous man who seems bent on getting everyone into his bed, including Hayden?

Excerpt

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2026 Lena Austin

"Madame?"

Madge Majesty looked up from her study of the papers spread on her lap and across the seat of her beloved 1912 Rolls Royce Silver Ghost Limousine. "Yes, Hayden?"

"Madame, Dunraven Castle is but perhaps half an hour away. You requested a warning." Hayden had lasted years longer than any of her other drivers, so he knew he was liked, but wasn't fool enough to take advantage of that knowledge. Harpies were not creatures to take lightly.

"Hmm. So I did." She gathered up her papers and stuffed them into her leather case. Wearily, she pulled on the gloves she'd laid to the side and put on the ridiculously large hat with an immense array of feathers decorating it. "There. I'm properly adorned." She huffed out an unladylike breath, as much as her corset would allow. "I'd give a great deal to be back in Greece where the fashions were sensible."

Hayden quirked a smile at her. "But not warm, Madame. Wales in winter is considerably chillier." As if to emphasize his point, the wind rattled the Rolls with no respect for the craftsmanship that went into it.

"I'm very sorry I agreed to be the Duke's hostess for this mystery party. Why didn't I refuse and stay in our lovely townhouse in London, where I could enjoy a party or write as I pleased?" Madge rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "Ah, well, what's done is done. We'll make the best of the weekend and be toasting our toes in front of the home fires soon enough."

"I've never been to a mystery party, Madame. How does one throw a party for a mystery?"

"Very simple. It's all in this box." Madge patted the locked strongbox beside her. "There are clue cards and the basic plot for me to follow. This one is perfect for a winter game, called The Santa Clause. Who wouldn't love to murder a solicitor or two now and again?" She shrugged. "I certainly would, upon occasion."

Hayden retreated into silence and returned his attention to maneuvering her precious new car through the few treacherous roads that Wales bothered to have at all. The ex-thief was not fond of anyone who had anything to do with the law. He was officially rehabilitated, but a mere ten years of service as her driver didn't negate a lifetime of running from authority. An extremely careful and quiet man by nature, he was -- in Madge's opinion -- the perfect companion, much better than a twittering peahen of a lady's maid.

The car lurched and slid to one side on a patch of icy mud, throwing Madge against the door. She bore it in stoic silence. Hayden wouldn't understand how much they needed the money provided by this weekend of enforced merriment. Everyone was writing books in this day and age, and she wouldn't say the money she earned was paltry, but it certainly didn't allow for a lavish lifestyle. In fact, if the truth were known, Hayden was the only employee she could afford. Thus, while on their jaunts -- often paid by those who wished for a bit of fame and glamour to rub off on them -- Hayden served as chef, chauffeur, lady's maid, and man of all work.

Since it suited her to be knowledgeable about subjects many men hadn't even the stomach for, Madge pulled out of her case one of the few books where the great Sigmund Freud appeared to change his mind on the subject of anxiety and inhibitions. Madge grinned to herself. She did love humor, especially when humans meant to be serious. "Of course we all have inhibitions, moronic little man."

Her mumble caught Hayden's attention. "Why do you bother with that mumbo-jumbo, Madame? He thinks everything has to do with sexual congress!"

"Hmm, yes, well, he does have certain prejudices, doesn't he? I'm not aberrant because I enjoy sex, and I seriously doubt the way your mother changed your nappies has anything to do with your homosexuality. Do be forgiving, dear. He's hopelessly addicted to cocaine, and trapped in a repressed society."

Sadly, everything she said was true. "You'd know more about repressed societies than I, Madame. I'm only a poor human, after all." Hayden gave her one of his infamous Mona Lisa smiles -- a smile that showed no teeth but implied much more than mischief while keeping well into propriety. Bless him, he never stepped a toe out of line publicly, unless called upon to do so.

Madge, on the other hand, had no compunctions about showing her fangs, even when she covered her retractable dagger-like talons with silk gloves. The pointed ears peeking out of dark curls and her Grecian looks marked her as a foreigner in a land notable for its snobbery, but Madge saw no need to bother hiding herself. Well, all right, she hid the wings. Blasted things got in the way if she didn't, but that was for her convenience and not propriety. She was what she was -- an expatriate harpy who told a good story and occasionally found cause to use her bloodthirsty nature to solve a mystery.

The irony was, no one ever thought to accuse her of the murders because harpies weren't known for subtlety when it came to killing. Madge acknowledged the legend with twisted lips, and didn't bother to remind anyone that she was free and no longer the slave of the Furies.

Framed by snow clouds the color of a pigeon's breast, Dunraven Castle hove up from the surrounding hills like a fairytale. Beautifully situated and scrupulously maintained by a trust none of the Duke's wastrel ancestors could touch, it was a welcoming sight in the gathering gloom of dusk. Thanks to the road conditions, if you dared call the deeply rutted mud tracks by the same noble word the Romans used for their craftsmanship, they were hours late. They'd missed tea in their haste to make up time, and now her stomach rumbled audibly. "Have we time for a biscuit, Hayden?"

"Was that your stomach, Madame? Surely I thought we were about to have a storm." Hayden pretended to study the sky very seriously. At the same time, his hand reached back imploringly. "I'd love a bikky, thank you. No doubt I've missed the servant's dinner, and I've no mind to make do with a bit of cold chicken and some bread until morning."

Chuckling wickedly because he knew she always insisted he sit with her at table, forestalling any foolish matchmaking attempts, Madge handed him a large shortbread biscuit from her hamper, and they munched companionably. Finally, the car traversed the bridge atop the dry moat and passed through the portcullis into the courtyard of Dunraven.

"Just do me one small favor, Madame?" Hayden did not move from the seat to open her door.

"So serious! Very well, what is it?" She thought she knew, but made him ask.

"Let's try not to let this weekend become a real murder mystery?" His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, and she imagined under the proper driving gloves of his profession, his knuckles were white. Poor thing, he really had suffered at the last mysterious weekend, and had ended up incarcerated for three days until Madge had proven to everyone's satisfaction that another had committed the deed. For poor Hayden, it had been a truly miserable occasion.

Madge patted his shoulder. "Buck up, Hayden. I'm planning nothing more than a game all weekend. After all, what could happen in the Duke's presence?"

 

About the Author

Someone cursed Lena Austin with "may you have a life so full you'll have many tales to tell your grandchildren." Lena's a "fallen" society wench with a checkered past. She's been a licensed minister, hairdresser, Realtor, radio DJ, exotic dancer, telephone service tech, live-steel medievalist swordswoman, BDSM Mistress, and investment property manager. Not necessarily in that order. She never finished that degree in marine archaeology, but did learn to scuba -- she's got a lifetime of "Research material!"

Hey, why waste these stories on kids who won't listen anyway? Writing them down is a nice way to spend her retirement. What? You expected an ex-BDSM Mistress to take up crocheting or something?

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

Save 15% off any order at ChangelingPress.com with code RABT15

Order Today

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Deceptive Inheritance - Remnants of the Lost #1 - New Adult Paranormal Romance - and a Giveaway #Romance #NewAdult #NA #Paranormal #Giveaway

Jennifer Anne Davis is here to tell us about Deceptive Inheritance, Remnants of the Lost #1, a New Adult paranormal romance.

There's also a great giveaway.

_______________________

Deceptive Inheritance

Jennifer Anne Davis

(Remnants of the Lost, #1)

Publication date: June 9th 2026

Genres: New Adult, Paranormal, Romance

Laney Lake transfers to Stonemore University with a plan: two years of freedom before real life drags her back home. After a lifetime of overprotective parents and careful rules, she’s determined to finally live by making friends, saying yes more often, and experiencing the things she’s always been told to avoid.

Then Rowan Ward notices her.

To the rest of campus, he’s the rugby captain. He’s charming, confident, and impossible to miss. To himself, he’s a werewolf barely maintaining control. Rowan is the next alpha, bound to a future already chosen for him. His girlfriend is perfect on paper. She’s from a powerful bloodline, unquestioned loyalty, and the one his father expects him to marry. It should be enough.

It isn’t.

Laney pulls at him in a way nothing ever has, stripping control down to instinct and want. He knows he should stay away. Instead, he watches her. Circles her. Fights urges that feel older than reason.

Laney doesn’t know what he’s hiding. She only knows that when he’s near, her body wakes up and she’s warm, restless, and painfully aware of how badly she wants him to touch her. As Laney leans into her stolen freedom and Rowan teeters on the edge of breaking every rule he’s sworn to follow, old laws begin to strain. Because Laney isn’t ordinary. And if Rowan’s world discovers why she matters, choosing her could cost him everything.

She wanted two years of fun.

He was never supposed to want her.

But some instincts don’t care about rules.

And some sparks are born to burn.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

EXCERPT:

I opened the door, got out, walked around the front of the car, and stood there staring at the empty field before me.

Then I fell to my knees and screamed. It seemed as if something were clawing inside me, begging to be set free. That only frightened me even more.

“What’s going on?” Sarah asked, coming to my side and wrapping her arm around my shoulders. “You’re scaring me.”

Tears streamed down my face. It took me a minute before I could answer. “That makes two of us. I have no idea what’s going on. I don’t know what I am. My own parents are lying to me.” I’d never been so afraid in all my life.

“What are we going to do?” Sarah asked.

I loved that there was a we in this. It made me feel less alone. “Right now, we’re not going to do anything. We’re still investigating because we don’t have enough information to know how to move forward.”

“Are you going to talk to your mom?”

“Eventually. But not yet. I don’t want either of my parents to know I suspect something.”

“Okay.” Sarah stood and pulled me to my feet.

And then I remembered what Adan had asked about whether my parents were my biological parents. “First, I need to see who I’m living with.”

“This is seriously like something out of a movie,” Sarah said. “Like this is insane.”

I happened to agree with her. It all seemed so surreal, that I was having trouble believing any of it myself. “I’m going to need you to be quiet about it.” We got back in the car. “Don’t talk to anyone about this. Promise me.”

“I promise I won’t say anything.”

I pulled back onto the street and started driving toward my house, wondering who and what I was.

Author Bio:

Jennifer Anne Davis is the bestselling, award-winning author of YA fantasy and NA paranormal romance. She graduated from the University of San Diego with a degree in English and a teaching credential. She lives in the San Diego area with her high school sweetheart-turned-husband and their rambunctious, spoiled GSP.

Her three adult children are in college and graduate school. When she’s not writing, Jennifer can be found reading, crocheting, or baking sourdough bread.

Jennifer has always loved writing stories where the stakes are high and the tension is even higher.

Awards:

Cage of Deceit: Winner 2018 Kindle Book Awards

The Key: Finalist 2014 USA Book Awards

The Voice: Finalist 2014 Next Generation Indie Book Awards

The Voice: Winner 2013 San Diego Book Awards

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Bookbub / Instagram / X / Tiktok

GIVEAWAY!

Deceptive Inheritance Blitz

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The Flames of Soulflare - Fantasy - New Adult - Paranormal - Romance - and a Giveaway #Romance #Fantasy #NewAdult #Paranormal #Giveaway

La Kayshal is here to tell us about The Flames of Soulflare, Hell's Fire Dragon series #2, fantasy, New Adult, paranormal, romance.

There's also a great giveaway.

___________________

The Flames of Soulflare

La Kayshal

(Hell’s Fire Dragon Series, #2)

Publication date: May 27th 2026

Genres: Fantasy, New Adult, Paranormal, Romance

Fourth Wing meets From Blood and Ash in this Dark Paranormal Romantasy where dragons fear prophecy—and love may be the final weapon.

Everin Haydon was stolen, tortured, and reshaped into the dreaded Hell’s Fire Dragon, bound as a weapon for a Dragon Council that calls itself righteous.

Across the realms, Lord Tynan, the Demon of Darkness and Chaos, has ascended. His arrival heralds the Three Days of Darkness, and he will burn heaven and earth to reclaim what fate bound to him—his power, his vengeance.

But one question if the demon has risen, where is the god meant to stop him?

As the dragon world waits for divine intervention, Everin must decide whether she will remain a weapon—or become the fate of the realms.

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

EXCERPT:

Dark themes including captivity and experimentation

Emotional conflict and intense character struggles

Violence and battle scenes

High-stakes situations involving power and survival

This book is best suited for readers who enjoy emotionally intense, character-driven romantasy.

Read Before You Decide

Before committing, please read the prologue.

This will give you a clear sense of the tone, pacing, and writing style.

Prologue:

Present Day

The moon hung quietly above Helldreth Fort, its pale glow spilling through the tall windows and brushing the chamber with soft silver. A cool breeze drifted in and stirred the white curtains, their edges sweeping lightly across Everin’s skin. She pulled her silk gown closer, grateful for the warmth of the room. It felt comforting, far more so than the terrible, dark place she had left behind.

Her steps carried her to the mirror in the corner. The reflection staring back looked thinner, as if her body had been carved down to something she hardly recognized.

The neckline of her nightie dipped too low to her liking, drawing her eye to the faint scars across her chest. The lamp light traced their uneven lines, pale and unsettling.

She touched them gently. Everin barely remembered how or when she got the scars.

She pulled the outer robe around her until it covered more of her chest. At least the scars were low enough to stay hidden unless she wore something too revealing.

A sound of footsteps behind her made her turn.

Tariel Fenwick, her first love, stood at the doorway.

Everin froze for a moment. He looked different—stronger, more defined, more man than the boy she remembered. His dark hair rested just above his shoulders with two thin braids at the sides of his head, framing a face sharpened by a faint stubble. His amber eyes, once so warm, now carried a deeper, shadowed intensity.

His shirt hung open across his chest, revealing sculpted muscle that rose with each slow breath, and a leather gauntlet, more like an open finger glove, hugged his left hand like a seamless extension of his skin.

Her gaze lingered longer than she meant it to. He saw that. A slow, knowing smirk touched his lips.

She straightened quickly. “We need to talk, Tariel.”

“Yes,” he replied, approaching her, “but not now.”

“There is a lot I want to understand,” she said quietly. “So much I don’t remember.”

“Later.” He reached her, lowering his voice. “I’ve long waited for this moment with you.”

He stepped closer.

She stepped back.

“You waited for me?” she whispered, searching his face.

“I did,” he said. “More than you know.”

He brushed a fingertip along her arm. She stiffened but felt a flicker of the old pull toward him, a warm memory trying to surface. Her eyes drifted briefly to his lips, those that she had kissed in the past, before she forced herself to look away.

His smirk deepened. “Are we shy now, Everin?” he murmured, amusement warm in his voice.

“It has been a while,” she managed. “Things are not the same.”

“We are,” he said, touching her jaw. “You still feel this.”

She backed away again, but he followed, closing in until she had no space left. Her leg hit the edge of the bed. She lost her balance and stumbled, falling backward onto the soft covers. Instantly, she pressed her elbow into the mattress as she tried to push herself upright and pull her short nightie into place, but she barely had a second.

By the time she braced herself, Tariel was already on the bed. One knee pressed into the mattress, and in a swift movement, he trapped her between his legs. His body loomed over hers, leaving her nowhere to go. His hand slid behind her back and pulled her closer. The other moved to her neck, his fingers settling at her pulse, firm enough to hold her from looking away.

His control was precise and deliberate.

“Tariel—” She sucked in a breath, fear slipping into her voice. “What are you doing?”

His lips hovered above hers, so close she could taste the hint of warmth in each breath he released.

“You belong to me,” he whispered, his voice shifting, deepening, curling around her like smoke. His eyes burned brighter, molten gold spilling across the darkness of his gaze. “You always have.”

Everin’s heart thrashed in her chest. Something ancient stared back at her through his eyes—something demanding, something claiming.

She tried to pull away. “You’re frightening me.”

He leaned closer, lips brushing the edge of her jaw. “You love me,” he whispered.

“You always have. And you will give yourself to me again.”

His mouth dragged slowly toward hers, teasing, commanding, his breath warm against her parted lips.

“I want you,” he said, low and certain. “I want all of you.”

“No.” Everin gasped, turning her head away as panic surged. “Stop. You’re not—”

His fingers tightened at her neck.

He didn’t stop. The Tariel she loved would have.

“I am yours,” he murmured.

She squeezed her eyes shut. Then her voice broke in a whisper—

“You’re not him. You’re not Tariel.”

The room fell silent. And everything inside her knew she was right.

Author Bio:

La Kayshal is an Australian writer of romance, YA, and children's fantasy novels. She lives with her husband, daughter, and a playful Malshi puppy in the coastal plains of the Sunny State.

Her debut novel, The Lost Crown, is an adventure romance set in the exotic landscapes of India. She also created the much-loved Sylph Series, a whimsical children’s collection that introduces readers to the amazing world of Sylphs, with each book carrying a gentle moral lesson.

A lifelong fan of wizards, magic, dragons, swords, and elementals, she poured all these passions into her YA fantasy Ariston Baker in the Weird Picture Book, a fast-paced journey filled with realms, riddles, action, and adventure.

Her latest project is the Hell’s Fire Dragon series. Book 1, The Flames of Darkness, is a YA Romantasy full of dragons, and Book 2 is set to be released soon.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram

GIVEAWAY!

The Flames of Soulflare Blitz

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

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The Flames of Soulflare - Dark Paranormal Romantasy - and a Giveaway #Romantasy #Paranormal #PNR #DarkParanormal #Giveaway

La Kayshal is here to tell us about The Flames of Soulflare, dark paranormal romantasy.

There's also a great giveaway.

____________________

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. La Kayshal will be awarding $10 PayPal gift to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Dragons fear prophecy, and love may be the final weapon in this dark, multi-POV Romantasy perfect for fans of Fourth Wing and From Blood and Ash.

Feared as the harbinger of doom, Everin Haydon is stolen, broken, and reforged by magic into a living weapon bound to a Dragon Council that calls its tyranny justice.

Across the realms, Lord Tynan, the Demon of Darkness and Chaos, returns. His awakening marks the coming of the three days of darkness, and he tears through realms to reclaim what fate binds to him, the Hell’s Fire Dragon.

But one question remains. If the demon rises, where is the immortal meant to stop him?

As the dragon world waits for divine intervention, Everin must decide whether she remains a weapon or becomes the fate of the realms.

Read an Excerpt

His control was precise and deliberate.

“Tariel—” She sucked in a breath, fear slipping into her voice. “What are you doing?”

His lips hovered above hers, so close she could taste the hint of warmth in each breath he released.

“You belong to me,” he whispered, his voice shifting, deepening, curling around her like smoke. His eyes burned brighter, molten gold spilling across the darkness of his gaze. “You always have.”

Everin’s heart thrashed in her chest. Something ancient stared back at her through his eyes—something demanding, something claiming.

She tried to pull away. “You’re frightening me.”

He leaned closer, lips brushing the edge of her jaw. “You love me,” he whispered. “You always have. And you will give yourself to me again.”

His mouth dragged slowly toward hers, teasing, commanding, his breath warm against her parted lips.

“I want you,” he said, low and certain. “I want all of you.”

“No.” Everin gasped, turning her head away as panic surged. “Stop. You’re not—”

His fingers tightened at her neck.

He didn't stop. The Tariel she loved would have.

“I am yours,” he murmured.

She squeezed her eyes shut. Then her voice broke in a whisper—

“You’re not the Tariel I knew.”

The room fell silent. And everything inside her knew she was right.

About the Author: La Kayshal is an Australian writer of romance, YA, and children's fantasy novels. She lives with her husband, daughter, and a playful Malshi puppy in the coastal plains of the Sunny State.

Her debut novel, The Lost Crown, is an adventure romance set in the exotic landscapes of India. She also created the much-loved Sylph Series, a whimsical children’s collection that introduces readers to the amazing world of Sylphs, with each book carrying a gentle moral lesson. A lifelong fan of wizards, magic, dragons, swords, and elementals, she poured all these passions into her YA fantasy Ariston Baker in the Weird Picture Book, a fast-paced journey filled with realms, riddles, action, and adventure.

Her latest project is the Hell’s Fire Dragon duology, a romantasy series filled with dragons, magic, and high-stakes conflict. Book 1, The Flames of Darkness, begins the story, followed by Book 2, The Flames of Soulflare.

Website: http://lakayshal.wixsite.com/my-site-1

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A Hundred Black Sunrises: A Friday the 13th Story - Horror - Paranormal - Romance - Suspense - and a Giveaway #Horror #Paranormal #Romance #Suspense #Giveaway

Tamela Miles is here to tell us about A Hundred Black Sunrises, a Friday the 13th Story, horror, paranormal, romance, suspense.

There's also a great giveaway.

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A Hundred Black Sunrises: A Friday the 13th Story

Tamela Miles

Publication date: March 13th 2026

Genres: Adult, Horror, Paranormal, Romance, Suspense

A hundred different ways to break your heart, a hundred different ways to take your last breath. Sienna and Finn are exploring their strange attraction to each other until strange becomes something sinister. The clock is ticking as they fight to unravel the mystery of what draws them together on fateful Friday, the 13th.

Goodreads / Amazon

Author Bio:

Tamela Miles is a school psychologist with an Ed.S and PPS credential and a graduate of California State University San Bernardino and California State University Dominguez Hills. She is also a former flight attendant. She grew up in Altadena, California in that tumultuous time known as the 1980s. She now resides with her family in the Inland Empire, CA. She's a horror/paranormal romance writer mainly because it feels so good having her characters do bad things and, later, pondering what makes them so bad and why they can never seem to change their wicked ways.

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GIVEAWAY!

A Hundred Black Sunrises Blitz

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