• Home
  • Posts Tagged'paranormal'

Posts Tagged ‘paranormal’

The Prison of The Angels by Janine Ashbless On Tour #MFRWAuthor #Giveaway

CONVERSATION WITH A DEMON

We’re excited to have a visitor today – the demon who stars in the latest release from Janine Ashbless, The Prison of the Angels, has stopped by to answer a few questions!

Don’t forget to enter the Rafflecopter at the end, and stop by the other tour posts for more chances to enter!

INTERVIEW WITH AZAZEL

Your name:  Azazel
The book you’re in:  The Prison of the Angels (Vol.3 of The Book of the Watchers)
Your author’s name:  Janine Ashbless
Your role: The fallen angel released by Milja Petak. Her demon lover. The great enemy of the Heavenly Host. The harbinger of the Apocalypse.

What was your favorite part of being a character in this book?

I love Milja! She saved me from my prison … But then she betrayed me … but then she saved me again … I would fight the whole world for her, but I wish she would stop being so complicated.

Do you get along with your fellow characters?

Hah! I love Milja, but she has this other would-be lover called Egan – a mere human at that – who thinks he can lay claim to her heart. We don’t get on. Well, I enjoy teasing him; he’s so easy to provoke!

Can you share one unusual or funny fact about you readers might not guess?

When I first started interacting with the human species, tens of thousands of years ago, my preferred form was that of a gigantic black goat. That is still remembered in a twisted way – look at the Tarot card of The Devil.

Do you think your author has portrayed you accurately?

I do not think she emphasized enough how tolerant and merciful I was, throughout, to mortals who got in my way. I have been extremely merciful to Egan, and I do not get enough credit for that.

What was the hardest thing you had to do?

Learn to understand Milja. Seriously … the last time I was free was five thousand years ago. Women back then were honored if I chose them as my lovers. They were proud to bear my children. Women now? They are so difficult to please! They want choice, and respect … I have had a lot to learn.

What problems do you have to face and overcome in your life?

Five thousand years imprisoned in a cave, tied to rock, parched and starving and unable to move, all because I’d had the temerity to take mortal lovers. That injustice has lit a rage in my heart that cannot be quenched.

What are you afraid of?

Being imprisoned again. The archangels Michael and Raphael are plotting against me.

If you came with a warning label, what would it say?

“Hotter than Hell”

What do you think readers will think of you?

Why should I care what anyone thinks of me? I am that which I am. All of Heaven is lined up in enmity against me, and I will not bow down or give in. So, readers? Pah!

Have you appeared in more than one book by this author? Did things get easier or harder for you?

I appeared in all three books in this series. There would have been no series without me! Ashbless made me suffer from start to finish, but let me tell you; freedom with any amount of suffering is better than no freedom at all.

EXCERPT

From The Prison of the Angels:

The cold water flashed like white fire over every inch of my skin. It burnt my eyeballs and my lips and the inside of my throat, and beyond the white fire was a darkness so immense that it swallowed me whole.

I fell forever.

Something grabbed my wrist. Something so hot that it boiled away the darkness, so that there was suddenly light flashing in my eyes. I felt myself grabbed up bodily and lifted. I felt heat against my lips, blowing fire into my frozen lungs. I saw the wooden posts of a flight of steps, and then I pitched forward onto hands and knees in the shallow snow, choking up pond-water. In front of my blurred vision an inchoate swirl of darkness poured up the steps onto the lit porch and then disappeared. Unseen, something slammed against the door, a knock that made the house shake.

I was on the ground beneath the back porch of John’s house, I realized, shuddering.

Mama. Oh Mama. The thought seemed to come from nowhere.

Three times the knock sounded, and on the third the door burst open—outward, onto the porch—to reveal Egan in the lit room within; shaven, shirtless, and frozen mid-lunge for what I could only assume was a weapon of some sort.

He stared.

I tried to cry out.

“Milja?”

Grabbing his pistol he ran out barefoot onto the porch and looked around for enemies that were not there. Then he clattered down and pulled me up into his arms. I pressed my face to his neck and he carried me up the steps and over the threshold—not like a bride, but like a child he could hold tight against his torso, his wrists locked under my thighs. His skin blazed against mine. He hefted me into the kitchen and propped my ass on the table in front of the range.

“What the hell?” he demanded in a low fierce voice, sweeping locks of sodden hair back from my face. My hat seemed to have disappeared. “What happened, Milja? What were you doing out there?”

“Ice. I fell in the lake.” My jaw chattered. It was obvious I was telling the truth—I was soaked from head to toe, and after clasping me so close he wasn’t much drier himself.

“Feckssake, woman!” he growled. “What the hell were you thinking of?” He shucked off my coat, which lifted a sodden ton from my shoulders, then stooped to pull my boots off; ice-water spilt all over the floor.

I tried to strip off my gloves but my fingers weren’t capable of gripping anything.

“Come here, come here,” he said softly from where he knelt at my feet, grabbing my wrists and peeling away the useless gloves. He pressed my hands on either side of his warm neck, holding them there. They must have felt like ice-blocks to him, but he didn’t wince.

He looked like a knight kneeling before his queen, I thought. I could feel his pulse.

“I’ll go get towels, Milja. Are you going to be okay a sec?”

I nodded, though he probably couldn’t see it through the shuddering. He rose and hurried off, leaving me with the radiant warmth of the stove. I thought I should probably get the rest of my clothes off, but even after I struggled with my fly zipper my jeans seemed determined to cling to my bum-cheeks.

I heard the back door bang shut and I flinched.

Azazel?

Had he been gathering himself to come get Egan? Was he the one who had saved me from the black waters? Where was he now?

Egan came back in carrying armfuls of towels. “Alright?”

“I’m okay,” I told him, smiling through my shudders. He was still shirtless, and I could see the faint Ethiopian scars on his arm and chest.

He wrapped my hands one at a time in a towel, chaffed them dry, and then set them deliberately against the hard, hot wall of his torso.

Oh God.

Then he slipped all the buttons on my thick flannel shirt—the one I’d chosen this morning precisely because it wasn’t provocative or distracting—and he only slowed when he realized I was wearing just a bra-top underneath. My nipples stood in shamefully hard points under the stretch cotton. I tried to wriggle out of the long tartan sleeves of my shirt on my own, to spare his blushes, but everything clung like a freezing cold second skin and he had to help.

The shallow slash on my forearm wasn’t bleeding anymore, but each brush of his fingers felt like hot coals.

My wet garment made a slap as it struck the floor.

He draped a towel around my shoulders and another over my head. He started rubbing the water from my face and hair and scalp, his movements precise and gentle. For long moments I was buried in a soft darkness. I reached out, blind, to put my hands back on his bare ribs. I could feel his heart pounding beneath them, like a beast pacing a cage.

I have no idea when it all changed for him. When his grueling self-denial simply fell apart, like a garment worn and washed until the fabric was weakened beyond all use. All I knew was that he dropped the towel off my damp head, cupped my face in both his hands and—absolutely without warning—kissed me.

Blurb:

Milja Petak’s world has fallen apart.

Her lover, the fallen angel Azazel, has cast her aside in rage and disgust. The other contender for her heart, the Catholic priest Egan Kansky, was surrendered back into the hands of the shadowy Vatican organization, Vidimus, after sustaining life-threatening injuries.

She has killed and she has betrayed. She is alone, homeless, and at the end of her tether – torn apart by guilt and the love she has lost.

But neither Heaven nor its terrifying representatives on Earth have finished with Milja.

Both her lovers need her in order to further their very different plans, and both passionately need her, though they may try to deny it.

Milja is once again forced into a series of choices as she uncovers the secrets Heaven has been guarding for centuries. But this time it is not just her heart at stake, or even the fate of a fallen angel.

This time, the choices she makes will change everything.

This time it’s the End of the World.

The Prison of the Angels is the third in the acclaimed Book of the Watchers trilogy, following on from Cover Him with Darkness, and In Bonds of the Earth.

 

Buy links:

Amazon

Kobo

iTunes

Google Play

Barnes and Noble

 

Author bio:

Janine Ashbless is a writer of fantasy erotica and steamy romantic adventure. She likes to write about magic and myth and mystery, dangerous power dynamics, borderline terror, and the not-quite-human.

Buyer beware! If you like dark romance and a hard-won Happily Ever After, try “Cover Him with Darkness,” “Heart of Flame,” or “The King’s Viper.” If you prefer challenging erotica, go for “Red Grow the Roses” or “Named and Shamed” instead. All her other books lie somewhere on the spectrum between.

Janine has been seeing her books in print ever since 2000. She’s also had numerous short stories published by Black Lace, Nexus, Cleis Press, Ravenous Romance, Harlequin Spice, Storm Moon, Xcite, Mischief Books, and Ellora’s Cave among others. She is co-editor of the nerd erotica anthology ‘Geek Love’.

Born in Wales, Janine now lives in the North of England with her husband and two rescued greyhounds. She has worked as a cleaner, library assistant, computer programmer, local government tree officer, and – for five years of muddy feet and shouting – as a full-time costumed Viking. Janine loves goatee beards, ancient ruins, minotaurs, trees, mummies, having her cake and eating it, and holidaying in countries with really bad public sewerage.

Her work has been described as:

“Hardcore and literate” (Madeline Moore) and “Vivid and tempestuous and dangerous, and bursting with sacrifice, death and love.” (Portia Da Costa)

Author Links:

Janine Ashbless website: http://www.janineashbless.com/

Janine Ashbless on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/janineashbless

Sinful Press website: https://www.sinfulpress.co.uk

*****

GIVEAWAY!

Make sure to follow the whole tour—the more posts you visit throughout, the more chances you’ll get to enter the giveaway. The tour dates are here: http://writermarketing.co.uk/prpromotion/blog-tours/currently-on-tour/janine-ashbless-4/

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Guest Jo Tannah ~ Hidden Fates #Halloween #MFRWAuthor #eXbdd

Fellow Extasy Books author Jo Tannah has a spooky tale for you, just in time for Halloween!

Title: Hidden: Fates (The House On 16th Street)

Published By: eXtasy Books

Author: Jo Tannah

Page: 177

Word Count: 52639

Publication Date: October 20, 2017

Series: Hidden #3

Heat Level: 4

Categories: Erotic Romance, Gay, GLBT, Horror, Suspense

 

BUY LINKS

http://www.extasybooks.com/hidden-fates-the-house-on-16th-street/

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B076NN88W1

Book Series Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ttNJlGA2v2Q&t=22s

Book Trailer Link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dMUqKy15Yto

EXCERPT

Slamming the door behind him, Jonathan leaned his back against it. In short, hard gasps, he took deep breaths, not realizing he’d been holding onto it until then. Thankfully, the feeling of oppression faded and Jonathan began to relax. He stood there by the door for some time, listening for someone, or something, moving outside. When he heard nothing, he let out a sigh of relief and began to step away. He yelped when he caught sight of a movement, but when he saw his reflection staring back at him, he closed his eyes and let out a sigh to the ceiling. A wet and cold touch caressed the length of his neck.

“Jonathan.”

Jonathan opened his eyes, paralyzed as he watched himself in the mirror. His heart raced faster than before, and he couldn’t breathe. At the same time, the feeling of impending doom swamped over him. His heart beat rapidly in his throat, the sound, deafening in his ears. He was very sure that a man had spoken his name. Jonathan couldn’t recall feeling that frightened in his life. The shower in the bathroom turned off, and he heard Rafe whistling a tune, but instead of calling out to him, Jonathan continued to stare at his lone reflection, unable to understand how the voice had spoken right next to his ear. If he were to reflect on that touch, he could swear it had been a tongue. When the bathroom door opened behind him made him jump, he turned around, fist drawn up to hit whoever it was that was playing pranks on him. Rafe stood in the doorway, bare except for a damp towel around his waist. Jonathan slowly lowered his fist, fighting his rising urge to run like a coward and schooled his features.

AUTHOR BIO

I am a wife, mother and blogger by day, a writer by night. It can be difficult, to say the least, but it is a challenge that keeps me on my toes.

I grew up listening to folk tales my father and nannies told either to entertain us children or to send home a message. These narratives I kept with me and finally, I wrote them down in a journal way back when I kept one. Going through junk led to a long forgotten box and in it was the journal. Reading the stories of romance, science fiction and horror I had taken time to put to paper, brought to light that these were tales I never met in my readings.

The tales I write are fictional but all of them are based on what I grew up with and still dream about. That they have an M/M twist is simply for my pleasure. And I hope, yours as well.

Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B00RCKB5J6

Twitter: @JoTannah

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100012354600386

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/jo_tannah/

 

Out Now—New Urban Fantasy Novel, Blindsided, by K D Grace (@kd_grace) #MFRWAuthor

Blurb:

Book two in the Medusa’s Consortium series.

In New York City, away from those she loves, living with the enigmatic vampire, Desiree Fielding, Susan Innes struggles to come to terms with life as a vampire whose body serves as the prison for a deadly demon.

When Reese Chambers arrives unexpectedly from England, desperate for her help, she discovers that Alonso Darlington, his lover and her maker, has been taken captive and Reese has been warned to tell no one but her. Before the two can make a plan, Susan receives her own message from a man calling himself just Cyrus. He not only holds her maker prisoner, but also her lover, the angel Michael. If she wishes to see either of them alive, she’ll come to him and not tell Magda Gardener, the woman they all work for and fear.

With no help coming from Magda or her Consortium, Susan and Reese must turn to the Guardian – the terrifying demon now imprisoned in her body. He alone can help them, but how can she possibly trust him after all he’s done?

Available from:

Amazon (universal link): http://mybook.to/blindsidedmc

Barnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/2x7nAUk
iBooks: http://apple.co/2xstDT8
Kobo: http://bit.ly/2wpvd8O
Smashwords: http://bit.ly/2y8RB2I

Add to Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/36233244-blindsided

Excerpt:

It was a dark place where she found him, with walls so high only a small patch of starlight was visible above, but she was a vampire now. She didn’t need the light, and he, well he had never needed the light, had he? He stood naked with his back to her. He was broad of shoulder. There were white scars like latticework across muscles stretched taut over his shoulder blades. At first she thought they were from a whip, but as she drew nearer, she saw that they were more geometric in form, as though perhaps they were some sort of ancient ceremonial writing. She traced the shapes of them with the tips of her fingers, and his muscles rippled with the sensation. With a start she realized she’d never seen his body before.

“That is because I have none,” came his reply. “Only in dreams can I wear the flesh of my choosing.”

“You’ve worn flesh often enough. I would have thought it was always of your choosing,” she said, making no effort to hide her bitterness.

“It was not my own, though. That pleasure, I have never known.”

“Only in dreams, you say. Then this is a dream.”

“You know that it is.” He didn’t turn to face her but leaned toward her, and she slipped her arms around him and rested her head on the flat of his back. His belly tensed at the touch of her hands, and he caught his breath in a soft moan. “Touch is what I longed for most,” he said. “I thought the lack of it would drive me insane while I languished in my previous prison. But here, with you, I’m closer to touch than I would have thought possible. I do not mind it, you know. It is no hardship to be nestled inside you, close to your heart.”

She released him and took in their surroundings once more. “This is the place I’ve created for you?”

He pulled her arms back around him and sighed with contentment as she laid her head against him once more. “This is how I have decorated. The place you created for me was only the shape of myself, both boundless and infinitesimal. Oh, it did not matter. I could see through your eyes, feel through your flesh, even though it no longer lived as it once did, even though you never spoke to me. I hoped that someday you would.”

“And when I refuse, you come uninvited into my dreams?”

“All dreams are uninvited, Susan, and perhaps this time it is you who have come uninvited into my dream.”

She thought about that for a moment. Was it even possible to visit the dreams of a demon? Did demons even have dreams?

“Susan?”

“Yes?”

“If I had come to you more gently, if I had courted you and companioned you and been patient with you in the ways of your world, would you have loved me?”

“You never gave me that chance.”

*****

About K D Grace/Grace Marshall

Voted ETO Best Erotic Author of 2014, K D Grace believes Freud was right. It really IS all about sex—sex and love—and that is an absolute writer’s playground.

When she’s not writing, K D is veg gardening or walking. Her creativity is directly proportional to how quickly she wears out a pair of walking boots. She loves mythology, which inspires many of her stories. She enjoys time in the gym, where she’s having a mad affair with a pair of kettle bells. Her first love is writing, but she loves reading and watching birds. She adores anything that gets her outdoors.

K D’s novels and other works are published by Totally Bound, SourceBooks, Accent Press, Harper Collins Mischief Books, Mammoth, Cleis Press, Black Lace, and others. She also writes romance under the name Grace Marshall.

Find K D Here:                    

Websites: http://kdgrace.co.uk/

http://www.thebritbabes.co.uk

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/KDGraceAuthor

Twitter: https://twitter.com/KD_Grace

Newsletter: http://www.subscribepage.com/kdnewsletter

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/kdgraceauthor/

Release blitz organized by Writer Marketing Services.

 
© 2017 Adriana Kraft. All Rights Reserved.