Thursday, July 27, 2023
When fire meets ice, romance sizzles. The Demon’s Fire by T. M. Smith
Spectral Paranormal Investigations by S. Peters-Davis #ParanormalSuspense #ParanormalRomance
Excerpt
Bri’s point of view
“We’re fine but a bit rattled.” Kyle glanced at me and then back at his father. “Sorry for the late visit, but I wanted you to hear what happened firsthand. Let’s sit at the kitchen table.” Kyle grabbed my hand and pulled me to a chair.
Miles shook his head as he pulled off his outside gear and settled into a chair across from Kyle and me. “I had no idea the weather would turn into a snowstorm, more like a blizzard. It took some time for you to get back here, didn’t it?” Without waiting for an answer, he continued,
“Sorry about that. Glad you made it without incident.”
“Well, about that…” Kyle nodded toward me. “Tell Dad everything.”
I did, not leaving out the woman in the window or the scary-looking man in the mansion doorway, or how the appearance of the building went back in time to brand new. Nor did I skip describing the sign I saw that disappeared or the distance we’d driven when we saw the last two women and how something must be keeping them stuck there.
“Wow, I had no idea that kind of history was attached to the old mansion. It makes me think of the bordello stories my grandparents shared. Turned out more of a horror story.” Miles stared at me. “Did you open doors to any of the rooms upstairs?”
“None. The vibe came across as pure evil.” A chill zipped up my spine like a sawblade, making me shiver, and my eyes slammed shut. Everything went dark.
Then suddenly, I popped back to the mansion, reliving each moment there. Only this time, my trip ended with me standing in front of the black-eyed man at the door. His arms reached toward me. My paralyzed body couldn’t move as he grabbed my shoulders with stabbing force. I said, “I have no fear,” repeating the mantra. His mouth stretched open, long and wide, and his pointed teeth lengthened. The familiar stench coated my face, the same as my earlier visit. Then I said, “I am filled with love and light; the Divine is my shield.” Before I could repeat the mantra, his mouth closed, and he vanished into a cloud of black smoke.
Voices called my name, echoing inside my brain until I forced my eyes open to Kyle’s handsome face. His warm hands released each side of my head.
“What happened to you? It’s like you passed out in the chair, then after a bit, you’re repeating a mantra. Dad and I hollered your name, but you couldn’t hear us.” Kyle studied my face. “You did pass out, didn’t you?”
“I’ve never experienced anything like what just happened. I’m not sure how it happened, but I returned to the mansion and got a good picture of that man’s appearance. I believe his clothing dates back to that of the 1885 plaque. That’s a starting point for research of when the place was built and who owned it.” My heart beat like a mountain of drums in my chest. “Some horrific trauma must have happened to that man to make him so vile. He wanted to hurt me, maybe even kill me.”
Tuesday, July 18, 2023
Release Day Blitz & Giveaway Death’s Reckoning by Quinn Thomas
Available on Amazon
Tuesday, July 11, 2023
Henbane and Halibut by E. R. Blackwell and Cass Blackwell #CozyMystery
Chapter 1
It had been years since I’d been home to Seaglass Cove, probably since Waverly was three years old about eight years ago. After the divorce a couple of years ago, John, my ex-husband became deathly ill and passed, so there wasn’t any reason to stay in Medina, OH any longer.
Fall is my favorite time of year. I love the sweaters but let’s face it, most of the time was sweater weather on an island off the coast of Nova Scotia, pumpkin spice everything and cozy fires.
At ten in the morning, I had already had been working for three hours on the newest book cover art I was hired to do. The cover was for a popular YA fantasy author who Waverly was crazy about-
Well, at least for now. It was time for coffee. I looked in the mirror. Pumpkin colored sweater, faded jeans, Ugg boots, and I was good. I pulled my brown hair up into a tight ponytail, put on light make up and I was ready for a walk on the green.
On my bed lay Piper, my Jack Russell Terrier. She looked like she was half Dalmatian with all her black spots on the white coat.
“You want to go for a walk?” I asked her. She picked her head up, cocked it to the side and wagged her stubby tail. I guess that was an enthusiastic yes.
I opened my door. The house had a beautiful hardwood oak floor. In the hall sat Moira, my mom’s ragdoll cat and like most cats, very judgmental. Piper immediately went to say hello to Moira but she wasn’t having any of it. Moira hissed, showed her claws and ran through the wall. Piper gave chase, hit the wall with her head, and looked confused. Did I forget to mention that our house was magical? It gave me a little excitement in my stomach every time I saw it.
“Where’s everyone?” I asked Moira, looking at the wall; I knew she could hear me.
Piper tore down the steps and I laughed. Moira walked out of the wall halfway down the steps and continued making her way down, just expecting me to follow. Cats.Sheesh. I found my sister, Sidney, in the kitchen, a beautiful, warm and cozy room. She was gathering her things; apparently she was late as usual. She worked as a librarian; she enjoyed being surrounded by books. My family was Hope Crafters, when someone say’s ‘I hope that’ we need to grant that hope. There were many types of crafters in the village I just didn’t know who they were.
“I’m late but the Mirror is having a special halibut dish tonight you want to go?” she asked.
“The library isn’t going anywhere and sure,” I answered. I loved my sister.
“I’ve never opened the library late and I don’t intend on starting,” she replied.
She nodded her head on the way out the door. I smiled, shaking my head. Somethings never change. I grabbed my tote, hooked Piper’s leash on and we followed her retreating form.
In mid-October off the coast of Nova Scotia it was a bit nippy. I walked with a purpose towards Voodoo Coffee shop. Piper didn’t pull on her leash but constantly had her nose to the ground. I took in a deep lungful of the Atlantic Ocean, the sweet scent of baked goods and something else I couldn’t put a name to. On my walk people milled across the green some window shopped and others walked their dogs. Piper, was happier here than back in Ohio.
As we reached the parking lot for the Magic Mirror restaurant, Piper starting whining and pulling me so I just followed her. She dragged me towards the open backdoor of the restaurant, and there on the floor lay Stephen Stewart, the Chef with an herb box from my mom’s herb farm lying next to him. Piper got close to the door but didn’t cross the threshold. His eyes were staring at nothing, and he was fully dressed in his chief uniform. I felt sick and my hands started to shake.
I got my cell phone out of my tote and dialed the police. It was 10:10, I noted. Why I needed to know that was beyond me. Sirens broke the silence and Piper sat down next to me. I squatted down next to her, rubbing her soft ears. The wind picked up and the sound of snapping twigs and crunching leaves came from behind me as if someone was walking in the woods. I got the heebie jeebies and Piper gave a warning bark.
My cousin, Kyle, was the first officer to show up. Navy cargo pants and pale yellow jacket is the uniform of our police department. Kyle was a few inches taller than me but who wasn’t? He gave me a big smile when he saw me.
“Sorry I didn’t get by to see you before this but no rest for the wicked,” Kyle said, walking towards the body.
“Do I stay or can I go?” I asked hoping it was the latter.
“You need to stay, sorry,” he apologized.
He gave a nod, walked over to a close stump and sat down. As if Piper didn’t want any part of the body, she followed close and even tripped me.
“I know; I don’t want anything of that body either but we have to wait,” I told Piper. She looked at me and I swear she stuck out her tongue. I shook my head and hoped we weren’t here too long.
I watched as more people arrived. A couple of the men put up something that looked like a tent, so now I didn’t have to look at the body, which was fine by me.
The one thing that I missed while I lived with my father in Medina was family. My parents were divorced so I only visited once in a while and then not at all. I had a life in Ohio and it wasn’t the best. I was lonely.
More sirens were on their way. The onlookers started showing up from the parking lot where a female officer was doing her best keep people back. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a figure. I turned around and about two feet away stood a man, making me give a little yip of surprise.
“I’m sorry for startling you,” he said.
He stood about six foot, with short wavy brown hair and piercing blue eyes. He wore the town police department uniform and wore it with authority.
“That’s okay,” I replied, looking at him.
His name tag on his coat said Chief of Police, and from Kyle I knew his name was Scott Sullivan. He asked me what I saw, I told him and it wasn’t much.
“Sorry that I couldn’t tell you more,” I said, standing up and hoping to just escape.
“If I have any other questions, can I get a hold of you at Nessa’s house?” Chief Sullivan asked.
“Yeah, we’re staying there until we find a house of our own,” I answered. My feet were frozen. I looked down at Piper and she was ready to go.
“Thank you for answering my questions,” he said, walking back to the tent opening.
Quietly I stood there observing for a couple more moments. “You ready to go?” I asked Piper. She woofed, which I took for yes.
Leaves crunched with every step we took walking away from the scene. I needed coffee now more than ever. The scent of fresh coffee in the air spurred me on. As we rounded the side of the building, I plowed into someone. Piper got her leash tangled around my legs, my arms flailed looking for something to grab onto and I found it. Someone was steadying me, I peered at the face and my heart thudded in my chest.
“I’m sorry,” I stated as I tried to get untangled.
People walked on the green, so it was like it was just me and him.
“No, it was my fault. I wasn’t paying attention,” he explained. He stood six foot, lean, yet you could tell that he worked out. Sandy, short hair and the most beautiful blue eyes I’d ever seen.
Why was I noticing this after a rough marriage and divorce? I’d put a wall around my heart and sworn off of men.
Finally, I got untangled and just stood there like a deer caught in headlights. “Sorry to bump into you,” I said again, trying to get around him to the door to the cafe. I mean really, he stood between me and my coffee.
He turned, going in the same direction, so when we got to Voodoo Coffee we both grabbed the handle at the same time. It was like a tingle went right up my arm. I jerked my hand away, looking at him and the problem was, he was staring at me too. We stood there until someone from inside tried to get out. We both stepped aside; I slid past the person coming out and finally made it to the counter.
The walls were painted a soft butter yellow, complementing the boysenberry purple couch and two overstuffed chairs. It was an odd combination but it worked. Beautiful photos of the village hung in silver frames on the walls.
Agnes stood behind the counter. Her short, gray hair was styled back over her head, her flawless skin the color of a good tan and her make-up was applied perfectly.
“It is good to see you and how have you been?” Agnes asked with a twinkle in her eyes.
“I’ve been doing okay, and you look great,” I said with a smile.
“I’m good. What can I get for you?” she asked.
“Pumpkin spice latte to go,” I answered, breathing in the scent of vanilla, pumpkin spice, apples and the best smell of all- fresh ground coffee beans. Instantly I felt calmer.
Agnes peered over the counter and saw Piper. “Can she have a homemade pumpkin dog biscuit?”
“Yes, and thanks,” I responded, watching her give Piper what I call a cookie. Piper took it so gently from Agnes’s hand I wondered if it was the same dog I knew. Piper munched it right down.
I paid and stepped aside to wait for my order so others could place theirs. Someone handed me a steaming paper cup and armed with fresh coffee and breathing in allspice, ginger and cinnamon, I was on my way back out the door.
“Thanks, Agnes and have a good day,” I called over my shoulder.
Experience had taught me to give my coffee a little time to cool down so I wouldn’t scorch my tongue. The green seemed to be bustling with people carrying pumpkins and long strands of garland of silk leaves in red and orange, even store owners were getting into the act. Shop windows were decorated with anything that represented fall. I’d only been back for only ten days or so, but I could feel myself tuning into the magic of the village.
I was going to drop off Piper at home and maybe look around for houses for sale. Strolling back to my mom’s house, I saw Ms. Coddington- affectionately known by everyone as Ms. C- walking along greeting people. She was the town’s self-proclaimed greeter. She was a logical choice. I mean, she does have a background in theater.
Piper started pulling, which brought me out of my thoughts. She was quite literally headed straight for the man that I had plowed into. I veered around him and walked towards Hocus Pocus Lane. Without incident I opened the gate, we went through, and I closed it. I let Piper off her leash; she tore around the yard and lay in the grass, a white butterfly landing on her nose. I was shocked and amazed that she just lay there and did not try to remove it. I stood there and watched her, then shook my head. It was the cutest thing.
“Piper, you’re silly,” I told her as I walked past her to the house. She got up and followed me.
I opened the door and Piper pranced to her water bowl. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a woman in eighteenth century skirts walking into the office. I stood there for a moment then went to investigate. Standing in the doorway, I looked all around the room and there was nothing. I mean there wasn’t even a closet to hide in. I shrugged my shoulders I had to check and make sure Piper had enough water. When I walked into the kitchen, Piper was nowhere to be found. I just assumed she went upstairs to my room to lie down on my bed. It was nap time for her.
I threw away my cup and was ready to head back out. I stopped at the door and looked back. “Be nice,” I said to the house and left.
Sidney, my sister, said that there was a house for sale by Prophecy Forest. I intended to walk a few of the side streets just to look for homes with sale signs. Back outside, the scent of dry leaves filled the air. The sun warmed my face and made all the fall colors more magnificent. I started walking looking for homes for sale; the first one didn’t hit any chords, so I continued. Some people were out raking leaves, decorating and just enjoying the weather. Some gave a wave or bobbed a nod. A few faces looked familiar but it had been too long to place names. I wasn’t used to such friendly people. Back in Medina everyone was in a big hurry to go about their lives.
At the other end of Hocus Pocus Lane stood another house and I stopped to study it. From what I could see it would need a lot of TLC. I took a picture of it with my cell and moved on. I cut through the field to get to the next street over. Alchemist Trail was a cul-de-sac. Some of the houses were pink, lavender, and pale yellow, and I loved all the colors.
The last house sat on a large lot maybe even a double lot with a fenced in yard and attached garage. This house called to me. It was a beautiful shade of teal with a purple door. The sight made me grin. In some traditions a purple door meant that a witch lived there. Goddess Moon Realty held the listing. Again I pulled out my cell from my tote, which held everything, and called the number on the sign.
“Goddess Moon Realty, Abby McKay speaking. How can I help you?”
“Abby it’s Wyllow.”
“Hi, Nate said you moved back,” she said.
“Yes, and I’m looking at a home right now that you have listed and I would like to see it,” I stated with butterflies in my stomach. I knew this was the house. “I would like to put a deposit on the house.”
John had left us a huge amount of money to make sure that we wouldn’t be scraping by.
“Okay, have your bank call me, I’ll set it up and call you back at this number,” Abby instructed.
I said a thank you to the Goddess and decided that I found this house. It was a bit big for only two but that was okay. I called the bank and gave them my instructions, then headed towards Bell, Book and Bakery to get a piece of Nate’s Key Lime Pie, my favorite at the moment.
The Care & Feeding of a Black Blood Slayer with Kharma Kelley
Book
Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/embed/RSmH_nVg41w
Excerpt:
Tristan no sooner entered the foyer of his home when he heard the rustling of metal upstairs and bared his teeth to attack. His gun drawn from his holster, he snarled at the thought of someone invading sanctuary. Someone had the gall to invade his home after the shit I've been through today? His body tense, he leaped to the top of the stairs, checking around the hall until he focused on his bedroom door closed with light shining under from under it. His senses still buzzing from the alcohol, he paused to get his bearings, letting the adrenaline stomp down his buzz. Ready to eliminate the threat, Tristan kicked down his bedroom door. With his gun drawn, he froze as his eyes met with the stark, violet eyes of a woman on his bed.
His mouth gaped open as she pulled against the glowing chains that were shackled to her wrists and ankles, the metal brushing against the bare flesh of her stomach, and lace-covered breasts.
Her abundant auburn hair cascaded down her back as she struggled to get to her knees as she faced him. She was breath-taking among the black satin of his bed and Tristan's eyes lingered over her from the full pout of her lips all the way down to the lacy black triangle at the meeting of her thighs.
Okay...It isn't his birthday...and what was in that fucking drink?
Her scowling face was less than pleased at Tristan's ogling. She pulled against the chains with a loud clink that brought Tristan back to earth.
"Take this off of me now!" Her eyes were thin slits as she glared at him.
Tristan moved closer to her, looking around the room for anyone else that decided to drop in on him. The only anomaly there was the woman wearing nothing but strange chains and underwear on his bed. His gun still drawn and aimed at her, he finally responded. "Who the hell are you?
And why the hell are you here? I didn't order a blood-bag stripper."
Zoë sneered at him viciously. "I'm not a stripper, you asshole! Now turn me loose or I'll rip your heart out!" She barked out through gritted teeth.
Tristan gave her a smirk. "Woo hoo, strong talk for a woman who can't move three inches from where she is." He chambered a round in his gun. "Now I'll ask you once more. Who the hell are you?"
He paused as she suddenly took a deep breath and inhaled him and the air around him.
"Damn it," she cursed under her breath as she realized what he was. Her senses reeling, she desperately tried to focus on her lucidity as her body primed itself for the hunt. NO! Not until I find out why I'm here in this jerk's room, she pleaded with herself. Focus. Focus. But it was too late. He was so close now, so very tempting and her body would not listen to reason. It was the nature of her kind, and yet she despised herself for it.
Tristan tried to shake the cloudiness from his head as he stared at her. All he could think of was ripping that delicate fabric from her body and plunging deep into her, then sinking his fangs into her lush, radiant skin and sampling her life force. He moved closer to her as she leaned back against the bed, her ethereal eyes seductive and enchanting. Tristan stopped at the edge of the bed, nothing but the iron rail to stop him from moving even closer.
But something in the back of his mind urged that it wasn't right. The need to sate himself with her made him want to tear the heavens down just to have her. This maddening, clawing sense of urgency that was so hot, it threatened to burn away all sense of reasoning. Even his stopping against the railing made his body burn for her. An insatiable need to taste her, to take her, as some unknown force drove him to her like a rabbit in a snare. The feeling was so innate and primal, Tristan could eagerly walk through all the flames of hell just to taste her now. It was what some would call, pure insanity.
He lowered his gun.
She crooked a finger to him to come closer and he obeyed, moving to the side of the bed, finally dropping his gun to the floor. Reaching for him, she closed her mouth on his, pressing her body against him. Tristan growled at her bare olive flesh rubbing against the folds of his clothes. He could feel all of her now as if there were no clothing between them. It made his body rigid, and throbbing. Never had he wanted to be inside someone with every fiber of his lost soul with such a hunger. Her full lips plundered him, greedy and lustful. He was already painfully erect, pulling at his coat to remove it as her mouth assaulted him in the most sinful way possible.
Zoë, you have to get a grip. She called within herself, as her tongue darted into his mouth, brushing against his fangs. He had the metallic taste of blood on his tongue as if he just came from feeding. The ripple of his flesh beneath his clothes begged her to strip him to see all of the sinew he hid from her gaze. When his erection poked against her stomach, she groaned at the promise of it. Every molecule in her body was honed to seduce him. To take him and make him hers...
The bastard deserves to die. He had just fed, probably off a human. Kill him now!
She shook her head, trying to dismiss the huntress in her clawing to get out. If she let it take over, this vampire was as good as dead. If she would reject it, the enthrallment would tear her soul to pieces. But this was not a 'stake the vampire, ask questions later' kinda situation. He's the only one who could help her out of the chains and probably out of this mess she somehow found herself in. She hated to admit it, but she needed the stupid vamp.
Just a little more, then you can kill him. Bite him!
"NO!"
Hissing, Zoë broke away, pushing him away from her. "Get away damn you!" Tristan shook the haze from his head as he saw her writhe on the bed in pain. His bedroom suddenly filled with the tortured screams of the woman as she convulsed and shook on his bed. He started to reach for her, when he saw her back as she pressed her stomach against the bed, screaming. Then she collapsed.
He went cold at what he saw.
Tristan stepped back as he saw the elaborate tattoo on her back. Wings were so beautifully crafted, one would have sworn the black feathers on her bare skin were actually real. But he knew exactly what those wings represented.
Oh, fuck me!
They were the symbol of the clipped wings of the league of angels who chose to fall to protect mankind.
Vampires were never at the top of the food chain, as much as they'd like to think so. They also had slayers; stronger and more gifted than any Buffy or Van Helsing a human could conjure up in their fantasy world.
They, and they alone were the true rulers of the night.
Black Blood Slayers, demons that had the power to lure a vampire from miles away if they chose. They could draw anything without a soul and bend some of those creatures to their will.
The supreme angels of death to vampires and the lesser demons on earth. They were beautiful, cunning, and absolutely lethal. Vampires unfortunate enough to encounter one did not live to talk about the experience.
And here was one, right in his bed.
Yeah, the night just keeps getting better.