Tag Archives: urban

Nature of the Beast Tour Banner

Title: Nature of the Beast

Author:  Aimee Brissay

Series: Tangled Bonds, Book One

Genre: Fantasy, Paranormal, MMF, Shifters

Length: Long Novella

Publisher: Wayward Ink Publishing

Synopsis

After sorceress Alexandra tries to kill her insane father, her fae uncle expels her from the Otherworld in an attempt to keep her safe. Living among humans, she keeps her connection with the supernatural by working for vampires and werewolves.

When she stumbles upon a hurt werewolf pup her efforts to heal him inadvertently break the bonds tying the young lycan to the pack, making her his new alpha.

This is the least of Alexandra’s worries though, for back in the Otherworld her father has not forgotten her. He dispatches an assassin to kill her. But just who is this mysterious foe, and what will their arrival mean not only to Alexandra but to the delicate balance of the world?

Nature of the Beast is the first book in the Tangled Bonds series.

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Excerpt

The phone rang just as I was stuffing the last of the bags into the car. I answered, swearing under my breath. “What?”

“They are coming.”

I froze, the raspy whisper giving me goose bumps. The person on the other end of the line was female, but that was about all I could identify. The voice was muffled, as if a hand or a handkerchief was placed over the microphone.

“Who’s this? How did you get this number?”

“You must save him. Please.”

“Save who?”

“My boy. Please.”

Nic. “Who are you? Where did you get this number?”

The phone went dead in my hand. My feet unfroze, carrying me to the driver’s door. A few seconds later, I was buckled in, the car in gear. The tires screeched as I charged to the main road.

My mind spun, the warning still ringing in my ears. They. Who’s they? Michelson and his goons? Nic’s parents? Someone else entirely? Whom should I save? Nicolae? Stefan’s father?

Crap. Crap. Crap! Neither perspective seemed good, but at least if someone was coming for a visit, Stefan had a whole pack at his beck and call. Chris and Sean didn’t. Oh, shit!

I pulled out my cell to call home when it started ringing again. Sean.

“I was just calling you. Something is—”

“Get home! Fast!”

Without hesitation, I floored the gas pedal. The car lunged beneath me, the engine purring aggressively. I could hear growling in the background over the still-open line, and shouting, none of which made me feel any more confident.

“What’s the situation?”

Buy Links

Don’t miss the March Sale! All Wayward Ink Titles titles are 35% off on the WIP website and 30% off on AllRomance, and 30% off on Amazon.

WIP: http://www.waywardinkpublishing.com/product/nature-of-the-beast-by-aimee-brissay/

Amazon US: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01CJ4RVYW/

Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01CJ4RVYW/

Amazon AU: http://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B01CJ4RVYW/

Amazon DE: http://www.amazon.de/dp/B01CJ4RVYW/

ARe: https://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-natureofthebeast-1993709-145.html

Book trailer

Giveaway

Prize: $4.99 WIP Gift Card

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About the author

aimee-brissayBorn in Romania, land of the Iele and Vlad the Impaler, AIMEE BRISSAY has spent all her life surrounded by books. She has ridden side by side with d’Artagnan and The Three Musketeers to retrieve the Queen’s diamonds, set sail on the Erasmus in search of the Japans, fell in love with Rhett Butler and roamed the Wild West along Old Shatterhand. She has walked on the footsteps of the Olympian Gods and searched for Zalmoxis’ sanctuary in the Carpathians. In her mind, she’s never been the damsel in distress but rather the knight in shiny armor fighting for a cause.

With a background like this, turning to writing was no surprise.

Aimee discovered erotica early on in life and has never looked back. Now she can write anywhere, even in a crowded room or a busy subway station, but she loves solitude.

When she’s not at her evil day job, she can be found writing or playing with her cat. She welcomes messages from readers and promises to answer all of them as soon as possible.

Aimee Brissay can be found at:

Website: http://aimeebrissay.blogspot.ro/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100006586754683

Twitter: https://twitter.com/aimeebrissay

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Halloween Special – Fang and Claw

What Halloween would be complete without a vampire and a werewolf? Thankfully author Markie Madden has a great story for us, introducing Fang and Claw part of her Undead Unit series…

Lieutenant Lacey Anderson of the Dallas Police Department heads up a elite new squad dedicated to solving crimes involving Immortals like herself. Lacey, a Vampire left for dead when her family was slaughtered by Werewolves, still has nightmares about the attack.

Detective Colton Scarber is her unwilling partner and second-in-command. He’s a Werewolf, a descendant of those who killed Lacey’s coven. She’s unaware of this, but she doesn’t trust him from the start. When the fragile beginning of the team is threatened by the truth, can they learn to trust one another as partners must, or will the Undead Unit be doomed to failure?

A mysterious suspect and strange physical evidence leads them to solve a case spanning decades, and leaves Lacey with no other choice but to rely on her enemy when her very life is at stake!

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Desert Son

Check out Desert Son by Glenn Maynard


Desert Son

CHAPTER ONE

Warm weather streaked through Boston for a cameo on this late

March afternoon. Mid-70’s usually did not emerge from

hibernation until April, but none of that mattered much for Carter

Spence. No temperature could affect him now. Temperature

usually made all the difference in the world to Carter, but now

springtime’s rebirth seamlessly transpired.

Carter’s mood elevated, but temperature played no role. For a

split-second, he thought perhaps his mood had a calming effect on

his body, but only because his 175 pounds felt fluffy, like he’d been

influenced by helium. Just to contradict this sensation, he

remained still. He felt silly even testing. This feeling had only

captivated him while running around the bases at the baseball

fields near his home, or even when he was a tad tipsy at the bar,

but this still overpowered those other times.

Carter questioned reality. As a recent college graduate, he’d

dabbled in binge drinking, even though not nearly as frequent as

his “crowd” did. In fact, every so often, Carter would be the one

strong enough to volunteer himself as designated driver. Carter

was able to glance beyond the average college student in an

attempt to supersede peer pressure, and assume responsibility for

his actions. He always was the responsible type.

As Carter found himself suspended in a position enabling him

to oversee earth, he knew this transcended a typical mood swing.

He unquestioningly went along with whatever life threw at him,

even in this extreme case, surprising even himself.

Surveying the earth below, feeling not an ounce of care in the

world, Carter continued wafting like a loose sheet of paper in the

wind, drifting inch by inch, contentedly, as he began keying in on

an object. He seemed more preoccupied with this new attraction

than with his sudden participation with the solar system. It would

have been cataclysmic had both his feet mixed with the earth’s

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Glenn Maynard

dirt, but that wasn’t the case.

As much a presence that this altered state should have been,

Carter began battling a continual attraction to the object. This

diversion was enough to cloud the reality and incomprehensibility

of the situation. He finally stopped moving, involuntarily; no

further elevation. He awaited the presence of normalcy, but this

delay only lengthened his journey.

He sensed that he had no encasing. He felt that he was just a

feeling, or that his existence was just a thought. He couldn’t see his

body, but never really cared to check, either. He just had a gut

feeling that his thoughts were in a mind of their own. He felt like a

breadless sandwich. However, he did not care one way or another.

Carter astonished himself when his focus zoomed in like

human binoculars. This felt so empowering, so controlling, so

consuming, and he felt that the sky was the limit. For a 26-year-old

guy who had felt so powerless in the city of Boston, this certainly

boosted his confidence, but he only wished he could have this

focus and earth simultaneously.

He began reflecting on the bullying that he’d received as a

child on his school playgrounds. He wished he could find those

punks now, even though he since had learned to defend himself

fairly well. Nobody much messed with Carter once he hit the 10th

grade and began pumping weights vigorously. Nobody was going

to offend him, and in the city it was sink or swim. He had taken it

upon himself to get in a position where he could defend himself.

He looked at it as survival of the fittest.

He did not get revenge by beating the hell out of those bullies

who had previously roughed him up. No, that was not Carter’s

style. Rather, his presence became his revenge. And with this new

image came a certain macho sex appeal that ushered in his debut

in dating. He discovered that the two scenarios were intertwined,

and that did not pose a problem for Carter Spence.

Carter did love women, but he could not be in love with them.

He believed that he had just never found the right girl, but deep

down wondered if he even had the ability to love. This disturbed

him greatly, making him, for the most part, uncomfortable around

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Desert Son

women. He had convinced himself that he was just very picky

when it came to women.

During his peak conditioning, the one-time bullies would look

up at Carter in the high school hallways, acknowledge his presence

with a nod, and then humbly mumble, “What’s up, Carter?”

Although Carter considered this sufficient sweet revenge, the

thought of toying with these bullies from above did tickle his

imagination.

Carter eventually determined that the object on the ground

resembled a body, but it wasn’t moving. Then his focus zoomed in

some more, and quickly the body took on an eerie familiarity to

him. The scene below grew chaotic. Cars jerked to the highway

side. Doors swung open, remaining that way while people flocked

to this object, which was a body lying face down in an

embankment. Carter watched this scene unfold before him as if he

was watching a movie on television.

The first man to arrive shouted in panic to an unresponsive

body. He carefully turned the body on its back, eased down by the

second and third man to arrive. Carter continued to zoom in on

the victim because he felt as if he knew this man. He recognized

the strong face attached to the muscular frame. He recognized the

worn denim jeans with the oddly-shaped tear just above the knee,

and even the tan polo shirt, which by now had absorbed blood. The

shoes that had detached from the man’s feet were familiar, as were

the blue Gold Toe socks on his feet. His eyes moved back up the

body to the face, and saw that it was his body.

Carter felt indifferent while observing his poor, lifeless body. I

look so pale, he thought, aside from the streaking blood on his

face. Carter couldn’t believe it was really him. He would have been

hard pressed to select that body out of a lineup if asked to identify

him. However, he barely was able to recognize his own facial

features below. Just how observant and aware of his own self was

he, Carter pondered. It seemed interesting to Carter, more than

anything else, to see himself from another vantage point, yet treat

the situation so matter-of-factly.

Between the lanky frame and the short, light brown hair, he

9

Glenn Maynard

thought that it had to be him. But why, he wondered, confident

that there would be no dream to awake from, or no Allen Funt to

emerge out of nowhere to tell him about a camera. Besides, if this

was a dream, he wouldn’t be wondering if it was a dream. He didn’t

think he’d be wondering if it was a dream, but what he wouldn’t

give to test this theory of his.

Carter zoomed to within about a telephone pole’s length away,

even though he felt like a satellite in space. He noticed the traffic

really starting to jam. Cars could no longer pass by. One woman

screamed hysterically after discovering an upended automobile

streaming fuel onto the ground. She placed both hands on her

head and let out a series of chilling wails. Carter watched

emotionlessly.

Some good Samaritans flocked to the car to help, while others

ran from the danger. Most drivers rubbernecked their way past.

Carter shifted his attention to directly above the car, where a solid

oak shook off contact. A penetrating scar splintered the tree,

which was evidence of a speedy impact. Carter faced all four

wheels, witnessing the last tire as it finally slowed to a stop. This

all happened so suddenly that this new scene before him appeared

almost before the previous scene had ended. A dirty, scraped arm

flopped outside of the car, limply touching the ground, and a thin

tornado of smoke rose through Carter.

Carter could see that tire marks had blackened the highway,

and then dirt marks continued off the side of the road to where the

car rested. He did remember getting into his parents car, but he

could barely make a positive identification of that car. It had rolled

and wrapped itself around the tree at the roof. The smell of

gasoline enveloped the air and the potential danger was

incalculable. However, good people still stopped.

Gas dripped at a steady rate from the gas tank vicinity. Streams

of smoke billowed from under the hood. Carter hoped the smoke

and the drips didn’t merge, but when there’s smoke, there’s fire,

and within minutes the car flickered flames. Carter felt helpless to

try to save those inside. He wondered if it even mattered as he saw

that the car’s front bumper meshed with the dashboard and the

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Desert Son

roof the car rested on met up with the bottom of the windows,

which were smashed all around.

He knew those inside hadn’t a chance, and then Carter

positively identified the car as his parent’s car, so it was his

parents who were trapped inside. My God, Carter thought. This

isn’t happening. They could die. This thought flashed through him,

but he was emotionless.

Emergency vehicles nudged a path to the wreckage, and a few

heartless people took advantage of this path to better their

positioning. This was the city life, and nothing was going to spoil

the day of some people. Cars edged closer to neighboring cars on

the left, while cars in the far right lane eased off the road, some

entirely. Sirens blared, while red and blue lights flashed through

the light of day. Carter took notice of numerous police cars,

ambulances and fire trucks.

Carter knew his parents had expired, but what about his body?

Where was he now? Was he dead? Paramedics swarmed his

physical body below, and he wondered if he would ever be

reunited with it. He wanted badly to be able to help himself, but he

could only watch, unsure if it was his unwillingness or inability to

intervene. He felt like an actor watching his own movie, but he

certainly possessed more peacefulness above than what was being

transmitted at the chaotic scene below.

Firefighters in yellow coats squelched the flames with foam,

but the people who had jumped from their cars to throw mud at

the flames controlled the spreading. These people will be the ones

dubbed heroes, but will refuse the tag on the local newscast. Carter

could envision this before it even happened. He wasn’t being

disrespectful to those trying to help his parents, but he felt his

folks stood no chance by the looks of things. Maybe the car

wouldn’t burn to a crisp, but if they did survive the impact, any

fire would be enough to finish the job.

Carter believed his ejection from the car came prior to impact

because of his distance from the vehicle, and then it occurred to

him how he had gotten into the situation he found himself in. His

thoughts moved away from the chaos momentarily, zooming out

of that scene and into another.

Buy The Book

http://www.glennmaynard.weebly.com/

http://www.amazon.com/Desert-Son-Glenn-Maynard/dp/1612963129

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/20505634-desert-son

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/desert-son-glenn-maynard/1118627014?ean=9781612963129


Strength to Let Go Blog Tour

Strength to Let Go Blog Tour

Title: Strength to Let Go

Series: Tales of the Werewolf Tribes, Book One

Author: Alina Popescu

Genre: gay romance, paranormal, werewolves, paranormal romance, supernatural

Publisher: Wayward Ink Publishing

Synopsis

After being abandoned by his mates, Shiki Kirishima, beta of the Dragons of the Fang werewolf tribe, returns to his home in Tokyo.

Crippled by grief, Shiki decides to end it all by going into the territory of the Siberian Killers tribe and challenging them to a battle to the death.

His death.

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Ganzorig, beta of the Siberian Killers, however, sees the potentially disastrous consequences of having Shiki die in battle.

Instead, he saves him.

Having suffered loss himself, Ganz takes it upon himself to help Shiki deal with his pain.

Blake, Shiki’s best friend since childhood, is as determined to show him there is life after a wolf’s ultimate loss.

Could there also be something ‘more’ for them after friendship?

Excerpt

The light in my room was on and I growled in warning as I walked past the windows, hoping Ganz would get the message and leave. No such luck, I realized, when I pushed my door open and saw him pacing the room. Leaving the door ajar, I walked in and started stripping. I needed to clean this whole fucked up night off and just get myself stupid drunk. Otherwise, there’d be no sleep for me. “Shiki, I am sorry I sprung that on you, but you needed to hear it.” “Shut up and get out,” I said, trying to keep my voice neutral. “Now, Ganz. Get out now!” He cringed as I got louder, but didn’t budge. With a shrug, I removed my boots and socks, then practically tore off my jacket and T-shirt. “Dimitri survived losing his mate, and he’s not the only one,” Ganz insisted, his voice barely audible. Running my hand through my hair, I turned to face him. “It’s not the fucking same thing! My mates are not dead. They are alive and kicking, thank you very much! They broke all bonds with me, yet I can still feel them. I’ve not lost them, they left. To me and my wolf, they are who we belong to.” He shook his head and took a step closer. “Don’t say anything else. You have no idea how this feels.” “Shiki, I don’t have to! I don’t need to have been burnt to know my skin will heal.” “Losing a mate is not a fucking flesh wound, you dumbass!” My breath hitched as I grabbed and squeezed the back rest of the one chair in my room. I feared letting go of it because I knew I might end up tearing the whole house apart. “It’s not, it just takes longer to heal.” “Ganz, I don’t care about the healing, I care about the loneliness I’d have to face for much longer than any other wolf. What the hell do you think drinking that much fae blood does? They are immortal, remember?” He placed a tentative hand on my shoulder and I promptly shook it off. “You could spend a huge chunk of that lifetime with the true love of your life, why would you want to waste it?” “Because the loves of my life don’t fucking want me. Wolves mate for life, remember? And even if you can move on after a mate’s death, mine are very much alive. They will never die!” “That’s nothing but semantics. They are gone, and you are stubbornly clinging to someone who clearly does not deserve you!” Before the words even sunk in, the aggression in them directed to the two I loved hit me head on. I snarled and pounced before I could even dream of stopping myself. In mere seconds, I had Ganz pinned against the wall, my right hand squeezing his throat and my hips keeping him in place. “Don’t you ever speak of them like that,” I snarled, watching as his eyes grew wide with both shock and the effort to breathe. He was fighting for air, but there was little of it getting through. “They are nothing but fucking morons for giving you up,” he whispered, struggling to push the words out. My grip locked tighter around his neck and I knew he’d soon pass out. I was looming over him, growling and staring him down, and right then my nostrils flared with a surprising aroma. Arousal. I gasped, my eyes widening as the scent permeated the air around me. My growl changed, a soft purr layering it, and I could feel my own dick stirring. No, that was impossible! Sure it had been a few weeks, but…. But what? Had I expected my body to stop working? I was a wolf, I should have known better.

“A future alpha who gets all hot and bothered when he’s being manhandled. That’s an interesting discovery.” I chuckled, going for mocking, but it turned out genuinely amused, maybe with a hint of surprise. “Yes, so? You seem to be equally turned on by manhandling this future alpha,” Ganz said, arching a brow. A smug smirk curled up half of his mouth and I could clearly see his pupils dilating. He was right, but it angered me that he was, so I squeezed harder and snarled. Ganz moaned, a long, drawn out sound, and pushed his hips forward, crushing his erection into my hip. “No, seriously, you like this?” Ganz placed his hand over mine and I loosened my hold enough for him to talk. “Yes, I like it. I like control over everything and everyone, except for fucking. Then I want someone else to bend me over.” He shrugged and looked away from me. “Do you imagine anyone here would dare do that? Humans respond to us naturally by submitting and… other supernaturals rarely interest me.” I nodded slowly, thinking the ways of his tribe, with their strict rules against foreign wolves, probably weren’t helping the situation much. A fresh wave of arousal hit me as my body crowded his, and I realized my rolling hips had taken the reins from me and were responding to his lust. Without trying to move my hand away, Ganz brushed his knuckles over my cheek, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. His fingers trailed farther, playing on the back of my neck and making me groan. Putting a little pressure on it, he guided my lips to his. A soft brush turned into something fierce, with tongues and teeth clashing. I moved my hand higher, my chokehold tight around his jawline, and held him in place as I explored his mouth. I nudged his legs, spreading them wide, and stepped between them, pressing our throbbing cocks together. We both moaned at the contact and I could have sworn I felt his knees give out.

Book Trailer

Buy Links

Don’t miss the Tickle Me Pink sale on the Wayward Ink Publishing site – 25% off all list prices till July 21st.

WIP: http://www.waywardinkpublishing.com/product/strength-to-let-go-by-alina-popescu/

Amazon US: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B010ITT1VG/

Amazon UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B010ITT1VG/

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Amazon DE: http://www.amazon.de/dp/B010ITT1VG/

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B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/strength-to-let-go-alina-popescu/1122233801?ean=9781925222555

Giveaway

Prizes: $10 WIP Gift Card, 3 signed Bookmarks, and 1 ecopy of Strength to Let Go

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About the author

Writer, traveler, and coffee addict, Alina Popescu has been in love with books all her life. She started writing when she was ten and she has always been drawn to sci-fi, fantasy, and the supernatural realm. Born and raised in Romania, she finds her inspiration in books of all genres, in movies, and the occasional manga comic book. She is a proud geek who needs her fast Internet and gadgets more than she needs air.

Social Links

Site & Blog: http://alina-popescu.com

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

Twitter: http://twitter.com/alina_popescu

Instagram: http://instagram.com/alinapopescuwriter

Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/alina-popescu

Google+:  https://www.google.com/+AlinaPopescu

Amazon:  http://amazon.com/author/alinapopescu


Unelmoija: Paradox

Another new release this month – time for an urban fantasy from Ella Boca. This book is out tomorrow but you can pre-order it today.

 

Amy and her friends uncover the cause of the disappearance of New Lyon, only to face their greatest challenge. Altering the past could mean the end of all humanity, while doing nothing could have dire consequences for those they love. Forced to risk everything and choose between the familiar and the unknown, even the Unelmoija may not be strong enough to evade the paradox.

Review

“Boca’s final installment in her Unelmoija series is her best book so far. Full of her unique blend of suspenseful action and all-too-human moments (especially enjoyable by this foodie), it wraps up the story in a perfect way that manages to both surprise the reader and offer us the expected closure.

Indeed, seemingly random events mentioned in the previous books find their explanation in this one in various little twists that provide readers with unexpectedly fulfilling ‘aha!’ moments. If you have followed Boca’s excellent series so far, be sure to read Paradox for the perfect conclusion to the series.”

Nicholas C. Rossis, author, Amazon best-selling epic fantasy series Pearseus