A lone soldier on night watch. A single bullet through the heart. Every light in Paris flickers—the city’s thundering silent scream.
When Commander Raimond Banitierre was assassinated, French Revolutionaries lost their gallant leader. After a villain’s offer of eternal life condemned him to slavery, Raimond rebelled again, driving his vampire comrades to freedom.
Raimond escapes to Savannah, Georgia where his dream of becoming a doctor comes true. During his trial-by-fire residency on the Civil War’s battlefields, he discovers his true calling—the power to preserve memories and dignity in the face of death. His chance meeting with a beguiling mortal nurse ignites passionate nights and a long overdue crack in the door to paradise.
Vicious flames and an unholy miscalculation deliver Raimond back to the depths of hell. Being arrested for treason makes him wish for death and the arrival of Prince Draven Norman appears to be the final nail in Raimond’s coffin. Will the prince’s eccentric judgement grant Raimond a true reprieve? Is Draven’s invitation to join New Orleans mystical royalty an extension of his own treachery, or the next step in Raimond’s miraculous journey?
Has the legendary Crescent City found a spirit noble enough to protect her future?
A Monsters & Angels Novel
Where The Power Hides
A Glimpse Of The Monster
From the creators of the #1 bestseller The Box Under The Bed horror anthology comes Dark Visions, 34 horror stories from 27 authors.
Tag along on a con man’s New Orleans vacation where he gets more than he bargained for from a mysterious voodoo shop. A collection of family photos reveals an eerie secret about a beloved grandmother’s true nature.
A child’s horrifying memories haunt her into adulthood. A new camp counselor learns that the camp has secrets she might not live to reveal.
Edited and compiled by Amazon bestselling author Dan Alatorre, this anthology of horror brings together the minds and pens of more than two dozen amazing authors. Dark Visions will take you into the realm of the eerie and macabre, with thrills and chills!
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Between Two Wolves
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Hosted by: Lady Amber’s PR
Having your throat cut has a way of changing a girl…so does being bitten by one of your two lovers.
Luscious and curvy, that’s what they called me, as they shared me. Jericho behind me, his viking-huge hands on my hips, and Colt in front of me, his muscular thighs parted, generously saluting, taking what was his, with fingers weaved through my fiery red hair…. So my ex-fiancé had cheated. Who cares?
Well, I’d cared. For months. His betrayal had eaten me alive, filling me with resentment fueled rage. I’d stopped seeing beyond the past, at the cost of the present, and the future. My world had crashed down around me, and I couldn’t breathe.
Black Wolf Mountain was my answer. So, I went, leaving everyone I knew and loved behind as I searched for myself in the wilderness. Instead, death found me lying in a bed soaked with my own blood.
But death is no match for a wolf…not my wolves.
But what about me?
Is there more to me than death can take?
Is there enough of me for two to love?
Note To Readers: This is a stand-alone novel, a complete story, and free of cliffhangers.
NEW YORK TIMES and USA TODAY bestselling author Catherine Vale writes urban fantasy stories of magic and mayhem and paranormal romance.
MY LIFE TO TAKE
by Magali A. Fréchette
A Demon’s Love Book #2
Everything Celina thought she knew was a lie.
Her husband’s murder, her family’s religion…nothing was what it seemed. The avenging blood on her hands is barely dry, but she’ll do whatever it takes to save this unshakable proof of their love. Even swallow her terror to fulfill the bargain that was sealed on a bed of lies.
But there’s little time for tender reconciliation. Demons are being murdered, their mutilated bodies marked with cryptic threats only Celina can decipher. When visions of the massacres plague her at every turn, Kai sends her back to the human world in the care of the demon she fears most.
Secured in Shiriki’s high rise, she must uncover her own shrouded history. The key to saving the dark realm lies in her past, but an angel with a diabolical mind may lead to their destruction.
When his mere presence bends iron, does her broken soul stand a chance?
She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. “I’m fine.”
“And how are you feeling about us?” he asked quietly.
She took a deep breath. “We have a lot to work on for the next while, but we’ll do it together.”
“We will certainly do many things together,” he said with a lewd grin.
In less than a second, he stood naked, his muscles rippling in the low lighting of the room. She ran her hands against his hard chest, her pulse racing as she stared at his pale skin.
The word resonated inside her mind as she felt him invade her thoughts. He growled as he pressed her body against his, kissing along her neck as she closed her eyes. He felt so good, and he was hers as much as she belonged to him.
“Your body, soul, and life are mine.” His tone darkened. “And although I never had a soul of my own, though my life is endless, you have all of me.”
Before she could respond, he took her mouth, thrusting his tongue inside. She moaned as he cupped her breasts, her nipples hardening under his touch. When he tugged at the hard peaks, their lips parted, and she let out a harsh breath.
“I want you.” The words left her in a whisper, a plea from the need pulsing through her.
He lifted her in his arms and carried her to their bed, sitting her on its edge. Despite his gentleness, an animalistic expression flashed across his face as he stared. He crouched in front of her and glided his hand along her thigh.
Heat filled her, burning so hot she was sure she’d combust. Licking her lips, she parted her legs. Her throbbing increased when his gaze traveled to her sex. He stared with such carnal desire, she was sure she’d orgasm.
“You are so beautiful … and no one else will ever touch you.” He kissed her inner thigh and trailed his tongue across her skin, nipping along the way as she gasped.
Letting herself fall onto the bed, her chest heaved as her stomach fluttered. He licked her swollen lips, and she trembled under the pleasure of his touch. He flicked her clit, and she whimpered. “Please.”
His muffled groans against her wetness had her trembling, and she writhed as he sucked hard on her pink flesh. She grabbed hold of his hands holding her hips, digging her fingernails into his flesh, crying out.
“Your screams are as delicious as you are, dove.”
Running her fingers through his hair, she tugged, so he’d look at her. He growled at being denied, his gaze darting to her sex as he licked his lips.
She panted. “I want you.”
He stood. Feathers flew around him, black as night. Within seconds, the feathers falling around him dissipated into smoke, leaving Kai in his true form. Her demon.
The horns on his head held the same red arcane symbols, glowing brightly. He folded his black wings as he took a step closer, the darkness behind his red irises sending a shiver down her spine. Her chest heaved as she crawled farther onto the bed and reached her hand out to him. She wished she had the words to tell him how much she loved him, but showing him would be better.
He chuckled as he got onto the bed, even kneeling he towered over her like a looming shadow waiting to pounce. “You do not need to use words. I can feel it radiating off you as easily as I smell your lust.”
Where to find Magali…
Evernight Publishing: https://www.evernightpublishing.com/magali-a-frechette/
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Ever since I was a kid in Upstate New York, the magic of going to a baseball game was something I’ll never forget. We had a AAA team in our town and they were the farm club of the New York Yankees. The post World War II stadium was small and quaint. It was also a bit rundown.
I remember opening days when snow had to be plowed from the tarp so the game could take place. I also remember humid summer nights where the mosquitoes were so dense, you had to brush them away from your face.
When I set out to write Extra Innings, I wanted to capture the feeling of that magic, but add another element to the story. What emerged is a story of a sad man, Joe McLean, who’s trying to capture some of his youthful memories as his beloved baseball stadium is being demolished to make way for a new one.
He buys a piece of memorabilia and receives more than he bargained for. He then sets off on a journey, using his newfound power, to change his life and undo some of the mistakes he made in his past.
The results are surprising.
Please enjoy Chapter 1 of my new book, Extra Innings. If you enjoy it, you can purchase a copy by clicking HERE.
Extra Innings – Chapter 1
Triple–A baseball is just one step below the majors. For Joe McLean and his family, being fans of the Langerton Chiefs was a legacy passed down through multiple generations.
Langerton is located in a no-man’s land part of Pennsylvania that forms a small barrier between Western New York and Eastern Ohio and butts up against Lake Erie.
Langerton’s sports scene consists of baseball during the all-too brief Spring, Summer, and Fall along with minor league hockey during the seemingly endless winter. Hockey was a great diversion in the winter, but it was baseball that added a special magic to the brief period of warm summer nights.
The Langerton Chiefs had a long history going back to the 1940s. The United States was hungry for normalcy after the horrors of World War II. The wholesomeness and pure sensibilities of the American spirit that baseball offered were just the cohesive forces the country needed to pull itself together.
The minor league system for baseball, with its A, AA, and AAA teams, gave fans an outlet for inexpensive entertainment that showcased talented players before their potential ascent to the Major League. Many of the stars of the AAA Chiefs went on to be well-known players. Also, players on the mend or those looking for a comeback, often made appearances in minor league parks to sharpen their skills with the farm team before, hopefully, heading back to their major league clubs.
The parent clubs of these teams tended to shift from time to time. Joe McLean remembered, with great fondness, the days when the Chiefs were a New York Yankees farm club. The Yanks would come to Langerton each year for an exhibition game. Joe and his brother, Mike, had stood in line for autographs from greats like Don Mattingly, Dave Winfield and other stars of the 80’s and 90’s. Joe’s dad had a baseball card for Thurman Munson that had the late, great catcher’s signature.
Now, as Joe passed into middle-age, the Langerton city council had voted to tear down the old Maxwell Stadium and replace it with one of those brand-new but old-fashioned venues that had become popular when the Baltimore Orioles built Oriole Park at Camden Yards in 1992. Joe was not happy with this development.
“I can’t believe they’re going to tear the old place down,” Joe said to his brother Mike as they downed a huge breakfast at the Little Star Diner.
“It’s just progress. Maxwell is a dump.”
“A dump? It’s the place where we saw some great players and some great games. How can you call it a dump?”
“Yeah. We did have some great times there back when the Yanks were our team instead of the Blue Jays. They’re not even an American team.”
“How many Americans make up a team these days, anyway?” Joe half-joked. “You’re right. Most American kids play soccer now. I don’t understand a game where, after three hours, there’s no score,” Mike said.
“Sounds a lot like baseball?”
It was different though, the brothers agreed. A scoreless baseball game was a nerve-wracking event where, with each pitch, a million different outcomes were possible and strategic decisions could turn the momentum in a game. Both McLean brothers believed this to be true.
“I’m going to miss those old metal and wood seats. Something about that place made me feel at home,” Joe said.
“The new place will be fine. It’s the game that counts,
not where it’s played.”
“I know, but still, the ambiance is going to be missed.”
“Ambiance? Look at you Mr. Fancy College Boy. If you miss it so much, why don’t you go grab some pieces of the stadium and put them in your apartment?”
Mike was the older brother by eight years. He was approaching fifty, but looked older. He had a husky build with a strong upper body balanced out by a substantial beer gut. His grey curly hair topped a roundish head with an Irishman’s ruddy complexion. He was taller and wider than his younger brother, but they had the same piercing blue eyes inherited from their mother. Mike went to work in the local auto plant right out high-school. Joe had gone to college and was now a CPA.
Joe was silent.
“I don’t like that look, little brother. I was joking, but your face says you didn’t get the joke.”
“Well, what are they going to do with the seats and the signs?”
“Trash them. After they salvage what they want, they’ll come in with dozers and backhoes and tear the place down, load it in dump trucks, and haul it away.”
“So what’s the harm in taking a seat or some signs if they’re going to just dump them?”
“There’s no harm if you don’t mind the breaking and entering or the theft charges that go along with your plan.”
“Listen to you. You always had a drawer full of candy bars and cigarettes in our room when we were kids. Did you pay for those? Besides, I was going to ask if I could take something, or even buy it.”
“Hey, we were kids back then and, even though Mom and Dad dragged us to church every Sunday, I didn’t know any better.”
Joe smiled at his brother’s comment. He remembered those Sundays when Father McDougal would give a homily filled with parables about the evils of money and material goods. This was always followed by the passing of the basket so that the church could collect some of that evil money.
“I’ll call the team office and see who I need to talk to. You never know, they might just let me take some stuff,” Joe said.
“Well good luck with that. I’ll be looking forward to those padded box seats in the new Price Choice Stadium.”
The stadium was to be named for a grocery store chain owned by Lackawanna Specialty Services, a holding company with rumored ties to the mob in Western New York. LSS owned the land that the stadium was on and
decided to name the stadium after its discount grocery store chain and obliterate Maxwell name that the stadium carried for nearly 70 years honoring a World War II hero from the area.
“I’ll be there too, but I sure will miss old Maxwell with its leaky roof and smoky field.”
The concession stands that sold burgers, hot dogs, and other grilled items were close to the field at the third base side. When the wind swirled off of Lake Erie, it often took the smoke from the old-fashioned grills and covered the field in a thick, wonderful smelling, carcinogenic haze.
The brothers finished their breakfast and went their separate ways. Mike, to one of the few remaining auto parts manufacturers in the northeast, and Joe, to the accounting firm of Romano, Provenza and Bianchi. The brothers got together for breakfast every Tuesday morning and had done so every week of their adult lives barring sickness, vacation and holidays. The Little Star, a 55 year-old greasy spoon was always their destination.
Joe pulled into his firm’s parking lot. The building that housed R, P, & B was a circa 1960 cinder block box with plate glass windows. Joe had worked here for 20 years. He was a hard worker and would have made partner in any other firm by now. Nepotism and the lack of an Italian last
name, however, kept that from happening in this firm. He was content. He lacked the drive and the nerve to strike out on his own. R, P,& B was the only accounting firm in town and virtually every business and many individuals in Langerton made up their client base. Joe walked past the offices along the wall to his half-walled cubicle.
It was Johnny Provenza III, one of the new junior partners that was just one year out of college and the son of one of the partners.
“Good morning, John.”
“How about those Steelers last night?”
“I missed it. The Yankees were playing the Red Sox in the ALCS last night.”
“Baseball. What a snooze fest. Does anybody watch that anymore?”
“I still do,” Joe said feeling his age more than ever.
“Oh yeah, of course. By the way Joe, do you have the Healthway numbers for me yet? Dad’s been asking for them.”
“I’m just checking some last minute figures and should have it to you by the end of today.”
John noticed others in the firm beginning to watch the exchange between him and Joe.
“See that you do, Joe. I won’t tolerate missing a deadline,” the young Provenza said in a voice that had doubled in volume.
Healthway was one of the accounts that Johnny had been handed when he joined the firm as a junior partner. It was a lucrative medium-sized account with minimal complexity, but was way above Johnny’s abilities. Joe had offered to help and found the account totally dumped on him. He was doing all the work and would receive none of the credit. He wondered if John Provenza II. knew the work was not being done by his son. Joe would never tell. He just did his job without passion day after day. He was content. His only passion these days was baseball.
Baseball was an obsession that led to Joe tracking every statistic of every player on the Langerton team as well as the Yankees. He went to every Chiefs home game and weekend away games when they were within a three hour drive. It the game was more than three hours away, he was at home glued to the radio with a baseball score book recording every pitch, swing, score and out. And now, they were tearing down old Maxwell Stadium. The place where so many of his memories were made. He needed to get a piece of those memories for himself before they hauled everything away, but how?
Joe put it out of his mind. He had the Healthway numbers to finish and he had to focus and set aside his childish notions. He didn’t think about it again until lunch time.