Thursday, June 4, 2026

Release Day Blitz An Angel’s Treasure by Celia Breslin #ReleaseDay #PNR


An Angel’s Treasure
The Cupid Dating Agency
Book Four
Celia Breslin

Genre: Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Celia Breslin
Date of Publication: June 4, 2026
ISBN: 9798235028081
ASIN: B0GZYW11PS
Number of pages: 174
Word Count: 40K
Cover Artist: Danielle Fine

Book Description:

That moment when you realize you want your bestie…

Pastry chef Maya adores her friend group, especially a certain angel whose smile could dazzle the sun and whose heart is made of one-hundred-proof awesomeness. He’s her partner in hijinks, and the best ride or die a girl could ever have. At least he was…until the wedding reception incident. Cue hormonal fireworks and a secret crush guaranteed to splinter their carefully curated friendship—if she ever dared to tell him. Which she won’t.

Warrrior-class angel Raziel has a problem—a pint-sized fireball with a PhD in snark and sass. While he enjoys the heaven out of every moment with her, the slow burn in his soul has flared hotter than a supernova, so he’s burning to step beyond friendship into something more. Too bad she doesn’t seem to feel the same.

Cupids stick their meddling noses into the mix, sending them off with other partners. Maya welcomes the distraction from watching her flirty friend date someone else. Raz, on the other hand, has a new-found possessive streak and celestial flame sword ready to detach a certain rival suitor’s head from his shoulders.

With the cupids seeking to keep Maya and Raz apart, it may take a miracle—or thousands of party-crashing wendigos—to flip these friends into lovers…

An Angel’s Treasure is a secret crush, Friends to Lovers paranormal romance in the Cupid Dating Agency novella series. For fans of feisty, snarky heroines, big-hearted alpha heroes, otherworldly shenanigans, and steamy, slow-burn romance!

Amazon      Apple     BN

KOBO      Smashwords     Books2Read


Excerpt:

Maya smacked into a wall of muscle.

“Raz!” She palmed his hunky chest and pushed.

He didn’t budge. Instead, he covered her hands with his much larger ones, trapping them against his pecs while he backed her against the fridge.

“Move.” Wow, that order came out more like a question, and good grief, could her voice sound any wispier? All breathy and needy? But damn it, touching him was doing all sorts of lusty things to her insides, again, and they were not in the right place or time to be—

Wait. Hold the horniness. There was never a right time for them. Friends. Friend Zone. The platonic zone.

Raz towered over her, his pretty eyes practically searing into her soul. “Hey, you all right?” His warm, warm fingers stroked the backs of her hands while the cold metal of the fridge sent goosies down her spine.

Okay, fine, it’s his touch sending the chills cavorting all over me. “I’m great.” Liar, liar, cookies on fire.

“Sure, you are.” He narrowed his eyes, too in tune with her to believe her fib—the danger of being such close friends for so long.

“I’ll be fine.” She yanked her hands out from under his and attempted to skirt around him, but he planted his stupid big hands against the fridge on either side of her, towering over her, caging her in.

He arched one dark blond brow and waited.

Damn it, he smelled so good, like clove, pine, and citrus. Have to get out of here. “I need to check on the cookies.”

“No, you don’t. You just put in that batch.”

“Again, I ask, what do you know about baking? Zip, that’s what.”

“As much as I enjoy our banter, TT, something is up, and we’re not moving until you tell me.” His expression softened. “Let me help.”

Ugh, someone save me from heroic, soft-hearted warrior angels. “I’m not some problem you need to fix.” She ducked under his arm. This time, he let her go, much to her relief. And to no small amount of disappointment.

She busied herself arranging the cooled batch of cookies on a platter.

“Let me help,” he murmured again.

“I’ve got it.”  She slid the last cookie onto the pile.

“Maya.”

Oh, man. He said her actual name instead of one of the bazillion nicknames he seemed to have for her. She nibbled on the side of her lip and tore her gaze off the cookie pile to face the source of her never-ending torment.

Brow furrowed, he stared down at her, concern clear in his eyes. They always darkened to forest green when he was upset, which was a rare occurrence for the upbeat, positive man. Except when he was in battle mode, like the time a bunch of creatures from Hell invaded Petaluma, and Raziel made his fiery sword appear out of nowhere then killed every scary monster that tried to attack her—

Raz tapped her forehead with his index finger. “You’re thinking very hard. Too hard for a party. What’s going on in that clever mind of yours?”

“Nothing.”

“Mm-hm.” He scanned her face. “You have a little something on your…” His gaze locked onto her cheek, and before she could so much as blink, he stroked his thumb over her skin, right near her lips.

Lips that wanted to be kissed sooooo damn badly. By him.

Shit. She grabbed his wrist and opened her mouth to lay into him as hard as her bantering skills would allow, to stop herself before she snaked her hands around his neck and tugged his face closer to hers to kiss—

Chimes trilled.

The air around them warmed.

Fireworks burst to life near the vaulted ceiling, and a scroll winked into existence in an explosion of pink and gold sparkles.

Holy sugar sprinkles. The cupids had crashed the party.

 

About the Author:

Celia Breslin lives in San Francisco, California, USA, with her family, which includes three feisty felines who like to stalk across her keyboard while she’s hard at work crafting urban fantasy, sci-fi and paranormal romances. When not glued to her laptop, Celia likes to work out, read books (of course!), hang with her family, and binge-watch sci-fi and fantasy TV shows and movies. Matcha lattes keep her fueled for All The Life Stuff! 

 


 
 
 
 








Wednesday, June 3, 2026

Cover Reveal - The Engine in the Sky by V.G. Harrison #CoverReveal


The Engine in the Sky
The Dyson Bridge Series 
Book Three
V.G. Harrison

Genre: Sci-fi
Publisher: Mocha Memoirs Press
Date of Publication: 7/10/2026
Number of pages: 161
Word Count: 46,139

Cover Artist: Maya Preisler

Tagline: The greatest threat to Earth is the only one that can save it.

Book Description:

When Professor Meridia Vail’s space station is hurled across time and dimensions, she and the rest of the Bridgeway crew wake on an alternate Earth that's only five years into the future but looks like it's a century behind her technology. Their goal is to reclaim their crippled station, return to their dimension, and hope that a mysterious interdimensional illness doesn't kill her and her people first.

Stuck on a backwards version of her own planet, Meridia must deal with governments who want her technology and intelligence agencies who want control. Nobody trusts anyone, and the longer they delay, the closer the Bridgeway gets to a catastrophic reentry.

However, the greatest shock comes when Meridia meets her doppelganger, a brilliant mechanic with a loving family that leaves her heart aching for the life she could have had.

As time is running out for her crew and New Earth, Meridia faces an impossible mission: return to the station, save her crew, and prevent a global disaster. Duty first. Family second. When Meridia is thrust into a situation where the two become synonymous, she must decide how much she's willing to risk for a world she's sworn to save and a life she can never have.


About the Author: 

Amazon best-selling author, V.G. Harrison enjoys creating smart heroines who are more comfortable dealing with things like Fine-structure constant and quantum entanglement than the fallout from their conflict. She loves to write stories that leave her audience so engaged they can't sleep at night, thinking about the possibilities. In a nutshell, she specializes in humanity-facing sci-fi thrillers with cinematic tension and grounded physics.

V.G. holds a Bachelors in Biomedical Engineering and a Masters in Information Technology. When she's not writing, she's an IT manager in the healthcare information field.  

Her ever-growing list of hobbies include astronomy, attending comic cons, keeping an eye on the cryptocurrency and stock markets, hydroponics gardening, hiking, dabbling in technology, and connecting with her daughter, Vivi, on a cool level. 









Monday, June 1, 2026

Secrets by Izzibella Beau #NewAdult #Romance #LGBTQ


Secrets 
Izzibella Beau

Genre: Romance, LGBTQ, New Adult
Date of Publication: April 4, 2026
ASIN: B0GNRGBV3N
Number of pages: 154
Word Count: 40600
Cover Artist: Izzibella

Five voices. One lie. A harmony built to break empires.

Nat Moore arrived in Los Angeles with nothing but a voice that could crack open a cathedral and a past he swore he’d bury. Instead, he was molded into the reluctant center of Vesper Five—the industry’s newest obsession and Katarina Voss’s most ruthless creation yet.

Together they are unstoppable:

The Heart: Nat, the Oklahoma farm boy whose secrets could end the dream before it begins.

The Sky: Aydin, the billionaire heir chasing freedom in a cage of his own making.

The Fire: Harrison, the flawless prodigy whose temper threatens to burn it all down.

The Skater: Noah, street-smart survivor trading his soul for his mother’s salvation.

The Soul: Quinn, the quiet wordsmith tired of writing everyone else’s spotlight.

To the world, they’re brothers. To the charts, they’re platinum. And to the hungry media machine, Nat and America’s sweetheart Ember Kane are the ultimate fairy-tale romance—every touch, every kiss, every headline scripted to perfection.

Until the script starts to feel dangerously real.

Behind the velvet ropes and blinding lights, a forbidden pull is growing between two members of the group: one glance too long, one touch too electric, one secret capable of detonating the entire empire. As the stakes climb from sold-out arenas to career-ending scandals, the carefully constructed harmony begins to fracture.

In a city that devours the honest and rewards the fake, Nat faces an impossible choice: Protect the lie that made him a star, or risk everything for the truth…and the one person he was never supposed to want.

One band. One forbidden song. One lie away from total collapse.

Amazon

Excerpt 

But bus life stripped everything down. Back home, I had imagined late-night bonding and guitars being passed around as a show of brotherhood. Instead, I experienced relentless cramped conditions. The bunks barely fit me. I had to curl my knees and tuck my shoulders just to get comfortable. Every bump in the road rattled my spine, and the engine hummed constantly—a vibration that made real sleep impossible. You didn't rest on the road; you survived.

After the shows, we drank. At first, we played harmless games and laughed, but it never stayed that way. One night, Noah, who was already drunk, started the decline with a game of "Never Have I Ever." He wanted chaos, and he got it. When he said, "Never have I ever hooked up with someone I shouldn’t have," Quinn and Harrison drank instantly. Aydin didn't move, and for some reason, that stuck with me.

The questions grew sharper, cutting closer to things we didn’t want to say. When the topic of jealousy within the band came up, Harrison drank slowly and deliberately, making no effort to hide his bitterness. I didn't drink, but I felt a twinge in my chest anyway. Then came "Truth or Drink," which was worse because there was no hiding. When Noah asked me about my last real crush, I said Ember. It wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the whole truth, either.

Harrison leaned forward then, his eyes locked on mine. "Truth or drink? Have you ever felt something you weren’t supposed to?" The bus went dead quiet, and my stomach dropped. I thought about Aydin immediately—the bunk, the closeness, and his voice. I grabbed the drink and downed it quickly without offering an explanation. After that, Quinn watched me differently, as if he saw something I wasn't ready to admit.

By the fifth round, everything was a blur of loud voices and sharp jokes. Harrison became meaner and hinted that some people were in the spotlight too much. Nothing was resolved; it just ended in silence with things left unsaid. Hours later, I climbed into my bunk with my head spinning. I wasn't ready to admit what answering that question would have meant.

The aux cord became a nightly war zone, with everyone blasting different music just to annoy one another. The tension was always present. However, the night between San Francisco and Portland was different. The show had been insane, and I was too buzzed to sleep, so I went to the bunks to get some space. Aydin was already there.

"I’ve never clicked with anyone like this," he said quietly. When I asked him what he meant, he said it wasn't just the music; it was me. He said that I just understood him without him having to explain anything. My pulse spiked. I was instantly hit with panic; I told myself that I liked girls, that I was with Ember, and that I knew who I was. But I didn't move. I stood there with his shoulder against mine until Noah yelled for more shots from the front, and the moment vanished.


About the Author:

Izzibella Beau has been crafting stories since 2012, weaving emotionally charged narratives that explore desire, danger, and the deep connections that change everything. Now revisiting and rewriting her backlist while creating bold new material, she writes across several genres, blending cinematic tension with heartfelt romance and unforgettable characters.

 

With a background in film production and screenwriting, Izzibella brings a visual, immersive quality to her work—stories that feel as vivid as scenes unfolding on screen. Expanding her creative world even further, she is also developing original songs inspired by her books, offering readers a unique, multi-sensory storytelling experience.

 

A passionate animal advocate, Izzibella believes in giving a voice to the vulnerable—both on the page and off. When she’s not writing, she stays happily busy with her kids and pups at home in Georgia, always chasing the next story waiting to be told.

 

https://x.com/IzzibellaB

 

https://www.tiktok.com/@izzibellabeau

 

https://www.instagram.com/izzibellab/

 

https://www.facebook.com/izzibella.beau

 

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7374615.Izzibella_Beau




Thursday, May 21, 2026

Character Interview: Running with the Orc by Loretta Kendall #MonsterRomance


Character Daisy LaRue Goes Scorched Earth on the Writer of Her Story and Doesn’t Hold Back


Meet Daisy LaRue, the sassy, quick-witted burlesque comedian from the new monster romance release, Running with the Orcs. When we sat down to chat with this feisty rebel, she had a lot to say about what the author Loretta Kendall put her through in this monster romance that just might be her undoing.

Q. Daisy, let’s start simple. How are you holding up after being ripped from your life and dropped into an orc-run world like it’s just a casual Tuesday in fairy land?

Ugh, where do I start? One day, I was grabbing a caramel latte from my favorite coffee house, and the next thing I knew, I was kidnapped by Commander Hot Pants and taken to be a dancing puppet for a bunch of orc jerks. I love that I can still perform my comedy act, but being a slave to these twirps isn’t sunshine and roses. And Commander Gronk, we’ll get to him later.

As an example of the cruelty of this place, last week I was minding my own business when one of the guards started messing with me in the cabaret bar. Well, I’m not just going to stand around and let him grope me like I’m a piece of meat. So, I socked him in the family jewels and ended up in an oubliette overnight as punishment.

What do these guys expect? I’m not just going to take this stuff lying down.

Q. It seems the author, Loretta Kendall, forced you into a lot of chaos with her writing. Do you think it builds character?

Character? Are you for real right now? She had me kidnapped and forced into some fairytale nightmare version of Medieval Times. I have character out the wazoo that came long before being dumped on this rock. I’m a burlesque comedian, and my character comes from being on stage and building a tough skin when the hecklers give me a hard time. When those fans are orcs, you have to have a backbone, and fast. That’s what a true artist does. She learns to adapt, and that’s what I did.

Q. What would you like to say to her directly, if she were standing right here now?

I’d give her a piece of my mind, that’s what. I’d tell her she can take her monster story, with all the nightmare situations of being chased by orcs in a messed-up game of tag, and shove it right up her… (Insert expletives here… and here… and here…)

Okay. We’ll take a break here and give Daisy a moment to get it out of her system.

Ten minutes later…

Q. Daisy, are you good? All better now?

Yeah. I just needed to vent. Go on.

Q. So we’ve derived that you have a deep disdain for the writer of your story. She put you through a lot then?

That’s an understatement. I didn’t even know orcs existed, then I was thrown into slavery by them to work in one of the clubs on the entertainment crew. I get she’s writing something deeper about how beauty and corruption drive people to do things they think are right, but it’s been a lot on the women in these camps. We don’t even know what the men do with us as they catch us in the biannual Running of the Orcs. Are we going to be sex slaves or their next monster buffet? I don’t think I’d taste very good either way. I’m too salty.

Not to mention I’m convinced my fairy best friend, Jubilee, is losing her mind in this place. We all are.

Q. Author conflicts aside, what was your first thought when you met the orcs? Be careful, they might still be listening.

Well, I thought before that they were going to be ugly monsters from what I saw in video games on Earth. When I got here, what I saw was nothing like that, other than the tusks and grumpy demeanors. Most of them are ridiculously hot, and it can be exciting and equally unnerving. I don’t exactly like the idea that the guy over this place is the hottest man I’ve ever seen. He’s my enemy, and I can’t stop drooling over the big, green blowhard.

Q. The camp is described as only women captives, from fairies, pixies, elves, to humans. Do you find it a girlhood bonding experience?

Are you kidding me? These women are ruthless and fighters in their own right. If you turn your back on so much as one of them, you’ll not only get your rations stolen, but could end up six feet under. We have to scrape to get by here, and that’s the truth of it. There are no spa days and lunch out with the girls. It’s a game of survival.

Q.  What would you like readers to understand about your situation?

That nothing here is as it seems. Just when you think you have it figured out, Loretta goes and throws a new plot twist for me to navigate. And the biggest one of all is the commander of the orc warlords being so painfully irresistible. I think she did that just to piss me off.

I hate that I want him so much, but if you tell him, I’ll kill you.

Bramwell Gronk is the bane of my existence. He’s the reason I keep having to work out trades with the orc scavengers assigned to Earth to keep my vibrators' batteries stocked.

Q. So there’s a chance of some romance then? Maybe life here isn’t so bad.

(Blush) Let’s just say I wouldn’t mind finding out if the rumors are true about their tribal implants of a sexual nature. I heard from the other girls in the village that those men are ribbed-for-her-pleasure. And if Bram has those nods too, all the better. A girl has to have something to look forward to in this place. Maybe he’s that something for me.  

I can’t believe I just admitted having a thing for my captor. I seriously think I’m developing Stockholm syndrome.

Q. Finally, if you could say one thing to entice readers to check out your story, what would it be?

If you like orcs, fantasy, monster spice, and a lot of snark, this is the book. I’m not exactly the damsel in distress type, but I think you’ll be rooting for me in the end. 




Running with the Orc
Loretta Kendall

Genre: Monster Romance
Publisher: Loretta Kendall
Date of Publication: May 15th, 2026
ISBN: 9798234054067
Number of pages: 244
Word Count: 75,000
Cover Artist: LK Creative Designs

Book Description: 

Daisy survived two years in orc captivity with one rule: Don't get caught during the run. 

Sassy burlesque comedian, Daisy LaRue, always believed her orc captors kidnapped their pretty victims for nefarious reasons. Humans, fairies, pixies, and other beautiful beings, all taken from their homes and forced to survive in a world built on a brutal game of hunter and the hunted. 

But do the orcs want them for lunch… or love? 

When Daisy is finally caught during the orcs' quarterly run, she discovers the so-called monstrous men might not be the villains she pegged them to be. The one who caught her may turn from enemy to temptation. 

In a world where nothing feels certain, she’ll face a battle far darker than captivity when her captor, Commander Bramwell Grognak, reveals the truth of a twisted history built on the study of eugenics. With the handsome orc at her side, Daisy takes a stand against the hidden evils of a society once built on honor and tradition. 

As love becomes the greatest challenge they face, this world may be worth fighting for.

Amazon     BN


Running with the Orc: Excerpt 2

“Might as well get comfortable. We’ll be here a while.”

“You saved my life,” I blurted out. I was shocked to even say it as we settled into the cave, rain pouring down outside.

He didn’t say anything, but the knowing glance he gave me almost seemed sincere. “What good would you be to me dead?”

This asshole. “Wow. Such chivalry.”

“What do you want me to say? You’re sitting there thinking right now of a way out of this, so you don’t become my next dinner option. So what’s it going to be? Take my sword and slit my throat this time? Maybe take my other eye?”

“You act like the eye thing is worse than death.”

He shrugged, poking at the fire with a stick. “Sometimes it’s hard to see that death isn’t such a bad option.”

“That’s a little dark, don’t you think?”

“So is thinking a man’s goal in life is making a meal of you.”

He had a point. I wasn’t exactly sunshine and lollipops over all this. “You can’t blame me for being cynical. You kidnap us from our homes and force us into this barbaric game of hide and seek. Excuse me if I’m not grateful.”

He actually chuckled at that. “I guess you’re right. But not everything is as dire as you may see right now. You never know. You might enjoy being eaten, little taste.”

“You’re an ass.”

“And you’re still blushing that I mentioned it.” He sat back, resting his head on the wall with a smirk as the flame lit his beautiful face with ironic glory.

“Sometimes I really hate you.”


About the Author:

Best-selling, award-winning romance author Loretta Kendall is an Indiana girl at heart, splitting time between writing steamy, swoon-worthy love stories and keeping up with her comedic sidekick husband. When she’s not lost in a world of words, she’s probably in the movie theater watching the latest release or trying to keep her poor, defenseless Venus flytrap plants alive. ~ RIP Molly Sue, Poe, and the twins.

Outside of writing, Loretta has a soft spot for vintage horror monsters, pinup fashion, and multimedia art. As a former pageant queen, celebrity makeup artist, photographer, and talent agent spanning twenty-two years in fashion and entertainment, her life experience gives a unique spin on her stories and their lively characters. 

Loretta’s love for storytelling shines through in every book, blending real love with the perfect touch of comedy, glamour, and outright chaos to captivate her readers.








Tour Giveaway 

1- Book box giveaway of a signed copy of the 
printed edge edition with bookish merch 

Must sign up for Loretta’s newsletter between 
May 15th -22nd at www.lorettakendall.com  

Winner will be announced May 23rd 
through a random drawing. 
(Must be in the US to enter) 



Monday, May 18, 2026

Igor the Collector and Skulls on a Shelf - Guest Blog by Barry Maher #SupernaturalThriller #BookTour



A character in the next dark humor supernatural thriller I’m working on was inspired by actual events. A man was arrested in Ephrata a while back simply for engaging in his hobby. He was apparently a collector, and I don’t know when that became a crime. The stuff he collected was just sitting around. Okay, he had some jewelry. But no one was using even a single piece of it. What’s more, no one had any intention of ever using it. Everything in his collection had been abandoned. Even the pacemaker.

Our friend, and I use the term in the loosest possible sense, stored his collection in private property, so no infraction there. The whole thing, a hundred human skulls along with assorted body parts—hands, feet, bones, a couple of torsos—was tucked away in his basement, in the backseat of his car and in a rented, and paid up, Ephrata storage unit. Delaware County D.A., Tanner Rouse, explained, “The skulls were in various states. Some of them were hanging, as it were. Some of them were pieced together, some were just skulls on a shelf,”

D.A. Rouse makes it sound Like this kind of thing might be routine around Ephrata, Pennsylvania. Now, I’m a tolerant guy. Not only do I write supernatural thrillers but I’m actually married to a full-blooded Pennsylvanian. Though not from Ephrata, she has her moments. And some people might remember—or may still be trying to forget—the column I did about my body being stuffed after death and placed standing in our living room, holding the TV remote. Of course, I was joking. (I know it’s hard to tell sometimes.) I wasn’t hoping to be the centerpiece of a collection, the male Mona Lisa of a morbid museum.

To assemble his collection, the man from Ephrata, let’s call him Igor, broke into at least twenty-six mausoleums and burial vaults in the nation’s largest abandoned cemetery. I have no idea who does that ranking, or how you can get your abandoned cemetery considered. But the one to beat has 150,000 gravesites. At least it did before Igor started doing whatever the hell he was doing.  Did I mention that Ephrata is a Hebrew name meaning “fruitful” or “place of abundance?” That certainly seems to be the way Igor was looking at it.

“We’re trying to figure it out,” the D.A. said calmly. With all due respect, sir. I doubt this is one of those figure-outable things. Okay, Igor might have sold the occasional piece, but mostly he was just collecting and hoarding. He’s being charged with 100 counts of abuse of a corpse as well as burglary, receiving stolen property, and generally being so weird that nobody wants him running around loose. His initial bail was set at a million dollars and I don’t think that’s nearly enough.

A couple of suggestions for D.A. Rouse. First, register “Skulls on s Shelf” since it’s a can’t miss name for a rock group. Then, tell Igor that as soon as he explains all this in a way that makes sense to anybody—anybody at all—you’ll drop the receiving stolen property charges. (Just who was he supposed to have received this stuff from anyway?)

I’d love to hear Igor’s reasoning. But the only thing less likely than someone doing this kind of collecting, is this bozo coming up with a rational explanation for it.

Though there is this. Doing my usual exhaustive research, I only got as far as typing “When did gr . . .” into Google, when it automatically suggested “When did grave robbing become a crime?” like a terrifyingly large amount of people have been asking that question.

So maybe having my body stored safely in the living room isn’t such a bad idea.



The Great Dick and the Dysfunctional Demon
Barry Maher

Genre: Supernatural Thriller
Publisher: Crystal Lake Publishing
Date of Publication: 09/2025
ISBN: 978-1968532130
ASIN: B0FKWK2K7C
Number of pages: 464
Word Count: 125,000

Tagline: A wickedly funny, dark humor. supernatural thriller, blending horror with a thrilling murder mystery.

Book Description:

It’s 1982. Steve Witowski was once a hero. Now he’s simply a failed songwriter, running from the law. Worse, he’s just killed a man—while almost accidentally saving a woman from what seemed to be the strongest, most blood-thirsty wino in California. 

He should keep moving. But the woman, Victoria, is beyond stunning. Steve stays. And Victoria becomes just a part of a mystery he can’t unravel. Even as the face of the man he just killed slowly, gradually appears on his arm. And what starts out as a gritty crime story spirals into what author David Moody called, “A chillingly funny, hot, sweaty, magic and murder infused rollercoaster.” Complete with open crypts, dark spells, sudden death, and forces more powerful and demonic than Steve understands. Where nothing is what it seems. And Steve may be the next victim.

Excerpt 

Back in the 60s . . .

 

On Wednesday October 13th, 1968, a faculty panel recommended the dismissal of Professor John Harris—in absentia, as no one at Harvard had seen or heard from him in weeks. Harris later bragged about delivering his final lecture on “one shitload and a half of LSD.” According to the recording made available to the faculty panel, this was the sum total of that lecture:

 

“Good afternoon. Wow. American Literature, hunh? Let’s see. Moby Dick today. Right?”

 “Moby Dick?” asked a confused voice. “No. What happened to The Scarlet Letter?”

 “Right. Moby Dick,” Harris continued. “Great book. None of you have read it. None of you are going to read it. Nobody ever does. What you need to understand is that as far as I’m concerned—and I’m the fucking professor—Moby Dick is the same story as The Great Gatsby, which some of you may read. I call it, ‘the half-assed struggle of the individual to put their world to rights in the face of a failure that threatens to define their life.’ I think that’s from my thesis. Though maybe it’s not pretentious enough.”

Harris laughed. “Hey! How about this? Great Gatsby/Moby Dick: same story, different era, right? So, if someone someday tries to write that story for this generation, they should call it The Great Dick. That’d be perfect, wouldn’t it? The Great Dick. Alright, that’s got to be almost fifty minutes. See you next . . . whenever. Wow.”

 

 

SUNDAY, MARCH 21, 1982
Two Women and One Corpse


“Any fool can tell the truth, but it requires a man of some sense to lie well.”
                                                                                        —Samuel Johnson

 

CHAPTER 1

  

            Okay, let me start out by admitting that I was an asshole. I know that. The ludicrous amount of fame and acclaim and money I’ve had dumped on me since that time only makes it more glaring. The fact that we lived in a different world back in 1982 is no excuse. It was the same world. It just wasn’t the world we thought it was.

            I remember it was a Sunday night. Sundays always feel different. Looking back now and Googling a 1982 calendar, I’d guess it was Sunday, March 21st. I remember waking up and within minutes making the decision to leave. Quickly, before I could change my mind, I eased myself out of the rickety hide‑a‑bed.

            Immediately, Maria rolled over into the spot I'd just vacated, breathing loudly through her nose and mouth, not quite snoring. I hate to say it, but she looked every minute of her thirty years. Her thick dark hair clung damply to her face; her heavy arms stretched outward. The cast on her left wrist looked like a giant manacle.

The grandfather clock beside the cigar store Indian read 1:37, though a few minutes before, it had chimed four times. That made as much sense as anything else in my life. I was thirty-five years old, a Harvard grad who’d spent the previous two years faking his way through a $13,500 a year job as an territory rep for the Richmond Tobacco company. That $13,500 was the most money I’d ever made. You’re probably thinking that when you adjust for inflation and translate that $13,500 into today’s dollars, it’s a lot more impressive.

No, it’s not.

I slipped on my jersey and my jeans and gathered the rest of my things in my old gym bag. Fortunately, enough moonlight crept in around the edges of the tattered drapes to give the room a dim glow. I wondered if it would be safe to hitchhike out of there, or if Indiana had already notified the California Highway Patrol that I was wanted.

My situation was bad. But not bad enough to, say, crawl into a grave with a rotting corpse.

That would come later.



About the Author:
 
Barry Maher may be the only horror novelist who’s ever appeared in the pages of Funeral Service Insider. In his misspent youth, his articles appeared in perhaps a hundred different publications and, in order to eat, he held nearly that many different jobs. Sometimes he lived on the beach. Not in a house on the beach. On the beach. With the sand and the seagulls. 

Then he started telling his stories to audiences. More important, he started telling his stories to audiences and charging. That took him all over the country and around the world: his client list a Who’s Who of leading corporations, associations and cruise lines. You may have seen Barry on The Today Show, CNN, CBS or CNBC, or read about him in The New York Times, The Wall Street Journal, USA Today or in his own, Slightly Off-Kilter syndicated column.

On the downside, he’s also been incarcerated twice. Once for not making a left hand turn out of a left hand turn lane, and once for aiding and abetting a loiterer. 

He’s deeply repentant. 

Newsletter: www.barrymaher.com
 



 






Tuesday, May 5, 2026

Witchy Tips with Katrina Kimball #WitchyTips



1. Black (and white) candles are a witch’s best friend. Anytime energy feels off—be it collective or within my energetic space, I light a black candle and say some words to the effect of the burning candle cleansing my energetic space. This works like a charm every time. Why black? That black candle is attracting anything negative *in my space* to it and burning it away with the light (the flame) of the divine. Don’t overthink the words you say as you light the candle, a simple “I light this candle to cleanse my space” is good enough. It’s the intention that matters. Note: you can use white candles in a pinch when doing any ritual that calls for a different color correspondence. 

2. Don’t overthink your craft. If a spell calls for calendula but you want to use lavender? DO IT. If another ritual says to use a yellow candle but you feel drawn to purple, use the purple one. The magic of witchcraft lies within you, your needs and desires, and your intention. Everything else is just a tool to focus that intention. What feels right to and for you may be individual, and that’s okay because it’s your magic, working for you. 

3. Ground, witch! I cannot stress enough the importance of grounding. I highly recommend practicing grounding through visualizing energetic roots that spread from the bottom of your feet, down through the ground, and into the core of Mother Earth – on the DAILY. The more you practice this, the easier it is. It’s a simple tool that can take as little as 15 seconds, or you can sit with it for longer on particularly challenging days. 


Transcendence
Katrina Kimball

Genre: Paranormal Thriller, Dark Fantasy
Publisher: Rowan Prose Publishing
Date of Publication: April 28, 2026
ISBN: 978-1-961967-80-9
ASIN: B0F711QN1B
Number of pages: 348 pages
Word Count: 85,482
Cover Artist: Rowan Prose Publishing

Book Description: 

When a demonic entity seeking revenge starts tormenting her family, a young woman must rediscover their shared past and embrace her own divine power in order to save not only those she loves, but the creature bent on her destruction.

If you asked Alexis Ferelli what her biggest challenges are in life, she’d say it’s parenting her daughter, Luna, running her masseuse practice, and deftly avoiding conversations about marriage with her partner, Jack. At least, that was the case before she attended a séance. Now, the spirits are trying to contact her and there’s a demonic entity in her daughter’s closet.

Determined to find answers, she turns to the psychic from the séance and the spirit world for help. As she dabbles in the hereafter, she not only discovers another dimension filled with angelic guides, magic, and wonder, but also learns the shocking truth of her connection to the creature tormenting her daughter.

As the dark entity grows bolder and sets its sights on Jack as well as Luna, Alexis realizes that to save them all, she has to face the creature she once betrayed to bring it out of the darkness and back into the light.

Fans of Alix Harrow’s Starling House or Neil Gaiman’s Coraline will enjoy Transcendencs by Katrina Kimball.

Amazon     Books2Read

Excerpt:

Luna woke to a tapping sound coming from her closet. She knew closets weren’t supposed to make tapping sounds. She also knew that’s where monsters hid, in the back of dark closets or under your bed. Maybe that’s where aliens hid, too—waiting to catch you in your sleep.

The silvery light spilling through her parted curtains and pooling on the floor did little to soften the shadows. Through the gloom, she could see the outline of her closet. The door was shut. She cast a wary glance at the windowsill and the visible line of salt that gleamed in the faint moonlight. The salt was undisturbed, her window still closed against the night.

Tap, tap, tap.

She ducked under the covers and scooted to the far side of the bed. Tucked into the corner with her back pressed against the wall, she peeked out from under the blanket, her eyes glued to the closet.

Tap, tap, tap. The sound came again, swiftly followed by the soft click of the closet door as it started to inch open.

As she lay there, huddled in the darkness, too scared to breathe, a tall shadow, darker than the shades of night in which it had hidden, slowly stepped forward. Its red eyes reminded her of Aunt Dani’s cawing raven, the one with eyes like fire that scared you when you walked in the door. But these eyes were worse. Bright red flames surrounded a pupil an even deeper shade of red. And they were looking straight at her.

Frozen in fear, she watched as it glided closer, its footfalls silent, its eyes terrible and bright.

“Hello, little doll,” it whispered. 

Luna couldn’t tell if the thing had a mouth, for its entire face was black except for its terrifying eyes, but she heard the words just the same. A little voice in the back of her head was screaming at her to move, but it was too late, the thing was now between her and the door.

She remembered the bowl of salt on the nightstand next to her bed and finding her voice, tried to be brave.

“I am not a doll.”

“Oh, sweet child,” it sighed as it stepped into the puddle of moonlight, impossibly tall and darker than the nighttime shadows, “I shall make you my little doll. That’s all you’ll ever be.”

Its long arms ended in hooked fingers that looked as sharp as claws. Beneath eyes of flame ran a jagged slit where its mouth should be, as if someone had tried to draw a mouth, but had gotten it all wrong.

The scream that had been building for some time in the back of Luna’s throat finally worked its way free as the creature reached for her, talons grasping, eyes of flame leaping in the night.

She lunged for the salt next to her bed. Flinging the bowl itself at the creature, her eyes widened as it sailed right through it as if were truly just a shadow. Grains of salt flew through the air as the bowl shattered violently against the hardwood floor.

The creature jerked its head in the direction of her mother’s room and stared, its slash of a mouth widening into a gaping smile that made her stomach hurt. She could hear her mother’s footsteps racing down the hall.

Its head swiveled back in her direction, eyes alight with fire as its hideous smile somehow grew. Tears slipped down her cheeks.

“I’ll be seeing you little doll,” it whispered as it glided soundlessly back into her closet and snapped the door shut.

 

About the Author:

A horror enthusiast and lover of all things mysterious and unknowable, it was only a matter of time before author Katrina Kimball picked up her pen and mashed the paranormal, fantasy, and horror genres into one with her debut novel “Transcendence.” When she isn’t working on a novel or binge-watching shows about Bigfoot, ghosts, or aliens, she’s probably thinking about any one of those three things. She lives in the Pacific Northwest with her two children and her adorable Boston Terrier, Beaux.