Adriana Kraft

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Fantasy

Release Blitz: The Gods of Inthya, by Effie Calvin @EffieCalvin #Giveaway #Fantasy #ShortStories #Magic

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Title:  Gods of Inthya

Series: Tales of Inthya, Book 5.5

Author: Effie Calvin

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 01/17/2023

Heat Level: 1 – No Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 38600

Genre: Fantasy, anthology, Fantasy, gods, magic, romance, short stories

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Description

At the beginning of time, the gods came together to create Inthya, a world where magic is common and hatred never had the opportunity to take root.

But the Inthyan gods are young and imperfect. With countless failures behind them and unspeakable horrors lurking outside the borders of creation, they must not allow this world to meet the same fate as the last—without alerting their mortal worshippers that anything is wrong.

Nineteen short stories from the perspectives of the gods themselves, some humorous, some horrifying, and all united by a theme of protecting the mortals who love them unconditionally.

Excerpt

Gods of Inthya
Effie Calvin © 2023
All Rights Reserved

Inthi, God of Creation and First of the Ten, does not generally manifest in cities. This is somewhat paradoxical, considering most new ideas come from places where mortals gather in large numbers. But Inthi is a quiet, thoughtful sort of god and has trouble focusing when surrounded by too much noise and commotion. Even when they are called to a mortal’s private workshop, away from shouting vendors and screaming children, they cannot block out the soft but persistent hum of countless souls going about their daily business outside, each mind a bright beacon of wants and worries and dreams.

But today, unfortunately, they must make an exception.

Inthi is intimately familiar with their own Great Temple in Birsgen, and the enormous district surrounding it. Some call it the Flame District, but others simply call it Inthi’s District. Most large cities have one, a place where smiths and artisans and inventors come together to work and exchange ideas.

As Inthi approaches their temple, they hear mortal voices raised in argument. Standing on the steps are two people—a neutroi that Inthi recognizes as their own archpriest here in Ieflaria, and a priestess of Eran dressed in silver robes. The priestess is the source of most of the noise, waving her clenched fist in the archpriest’s face.

Inthi’s archpriest, however, is unimpressed. They wave a hand dismissively and say, “Your concerns are unwarranted.”

The priestess’s cheeks redden. From the rage that emanates from her mind, Inthi can tell reason has failed and now she is about to start cursing. Inthi walks up behind her and rests a reassuring hand on the prophet-priestess’s shoulder. “It’s all right,” they say. “I will handle it.”

Eran’s priestess looks at Inthi with wide, disbelieving eyes. She takes a step back, too dumbfounded to speak. Inthi’s own archpriest has not recognized them, but she has. With more effort, they can disguise themselves completely, but Inthi is not inclined to do so today.

“I appreciate your efforts,” they add. Only rarely do Eran’s priests take an active role in events. Most adhere to the philosophy that attempting to alter the future is pointless at best and disastrous at worst. This priestess must have decided that no outcome is worse than what she’s already seen in her dreams. “Excuse me.”

Inthi walks past the bemused archpriest and enters the temple. Inside is warm from the heat of dozens of forges, and every stone is steeped in magic. Countless prayers have been uttered within these walls. Generations of priests and artisans have labored here. Even if the temple was disassembled and all the stones cast into the sea, it would take centuries for the magic to dissipate from the air.

After taking a few moments to admire the new bronze statues decorating the temple’s anteroom, Inthi takes a side door into a hallway. All around them, mortal minds buzz with ideas; mortal hands wrest iron and copper into new shapes. It is still early, but most of them have been awake for hours. Some have not slept at all.

Inthi could have manifested directly at the source of the problem, but there is time enough to enjoy being in the temple. They pass a few priests in orange robes, but most of the mortals are dressed practically, with heavy leather gloves and large aprons. Some carry boxes, or tools, or push carts filled with scrap metal to be melted down and turned into something useful. Inthi brushes each mind as they pass, appreciating every mortal’s unique focus.

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NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Effie is definitely a human being with all her own skin, and not a robot. She writes science fiction and fantasy novels and lives with her cat in the greater Philadelphia area.

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Blog Guest: Lark Westerly, with three new Holiday releases! #Fantasy #Romance

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Every time I read a story from Lark Westerly, I want to go live in the wonderful world she has invented. I’m thrilled to be hosting her today on the blog, with three brand new Stocking Stuffers from Extasy Books. I expect they’ll be just as delightful!

   

A word from Lark Westerly:

I love writing Christmas stocking stuffers. These long short stories, or maybe novelettes, are such fun because they hold a full story with some warm feel-good situations, peculiar challenges, and lots of Christmassy detail. Most of my stories begin with a situation, and since they all take place in a familiar (to me and my readers) world, they can branch off from bit-part roles in other books while standing alone. In this year’s batch of holiday fun, Anne does battle with a food critic in defence of the Lilac Ladies club, Odette runs away from the traditional Yule ball with a man who doesn’t want to be there either, and Timothea, who has been waiting for her true love’s return for over a decade, wonders if he’ll ever arrive.

About the Stories

Anne and the Lilac Ladies Spectacular. Anne Hathaway, who is not married to William Shakespeare, is an old-fashioned girl. As her house mother from the Mother Mary Christmas Children’s Home remarks, “Our Ann should have been born seventy years ago. She’d have flourished.” Now living in the country town of Delmsford, Anne has found her tribe among the Lilac Ladies, a local service organisation. Unfortunately, the Ladies are all decades older than Anne and their club is dying. Anne’s efforts to help are pushed off-course by Rafferty Kettle, a food critic, whose review of their catering could bring them down. The Christmas Spectacular is their spirited comeback. The Lilac Ladies and Raff appeared briefly in another of my books; Performing Pippin Pearmain, but this is Anne’s story.

The Tale of Timothea. Years ago, Timothea Skipton climbed the Grandpapa Yule tree on Christmas Eve. This act of valour was supposed to let her see her own true-love-to-be. While stuck at the top of the tree and awaiting rescue, Timothea sang a Christmas carol with a wandering fiddler. He was obviously the one for her, but it was years before they were brought together again on another Christmas Eve by Mihangel’s very respectable brother, Dai.

Black Swan. Odette Cygne is the youngest daughter of Cygne Manor. Her three tall, beautiful siblings are married with children, but Odette, dark-haired and buxom, is facing yet another Yule ball of dancing with spare gentlemen. She’d rather be somewhere else. So would Godfrey de Courcy, whose sister has dragged him to the Yule ball to find a bride. Odette and Godfrey run away together to the Yule grove where they complete an ancient ritual and celebrate Christmas Eve in their own fashion. Godfrey appeared briefly in Queen of the May. Timothea Skipton, Odette’s cousin, appeared in a small part in Under the Christmas Tree.

BLURBS

Anne and the Lilac Ladies Spectacular

Anne Hathaway had found her spiritual home with the Lilac Ladies of Delmsford, worthy women with saucepans, ladles and looms. Now the Ladies were under threat, but how could Rafferty Kettle be an enemy when he understood the importance of apostrophes?

BUY LINK https://www.extasybooks.com/Anne-and-the-Lilac-Ladies-Spectacular

The Tale of Timothea

One Christmas Eve, Timothea sang while her true-love-to-be played his fiddle. She gave him her name, and he called her my angel. That’s what she thought he said. It was hard to say, considering where they were. After that, of course, she didn’t see him again for a very long time.

BUY LINK https://www.extasybooks.com/The-Tale-Of-Timothea

Black Swan

Just before the traditional Yule ball at Cygne Manor, Odette’s mother gave her an heirloom necklace. Her siblings had important news, but Odette had other things on her mind, including a man who didn’t want to be at the ball any more than she did.

BUY LINK https://www.extasybooks.com/Black-Swan

EXCERPT

From Black Swan

Down the moonpath a horse was galloping. His hooves made no sound, but Odette heard the huffs of his breath.

“Grilled trout on a wheelbarrow!” she exclaimed.

Godfrey stopped whistling to laugh. “Trust you to say that—but he’s coming now.”

Odette felt her eyes trying to bug. “What is that?”

“That is Fils de Lune, Odette. My horse.”

“Your horse. Your horse.” Of course it was.  And Master Godfrey de Courcy was no more a typical courtfolk man than she was a typical daughter of Cygne Manor. He looked like one, but he just wasn’t.

The horse closed the distance rapidly, giving a twisting buck in the air before landing his forehooves on the grass.

His hind hooves followed neatly. He pranced, swished his tail, tossed his mane, and snorted.

Odette gazed, entranced. He was so deep a black that he gleamed almost silver in the moonlight. His eyes shone an eerie blue.

“You said he was a piebald,” she accused.

“He is.” Godfrey reached out his free hand and the horse switched to face him, thrusting his muzzle into the man’s palm. “I haven’t forgotten your treat, mon ami,” he said.

Odette smelled gingerbread.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Lark Westerly loves writing series where characters weave in and out of one another’s lives. She thrives on complication, rules, moonlight, trees, traditions and magic. Despite this, she is not a fairy. Mind you…she sometimes wonders about her late granny. Lark has been writing stories since someone taught her how to spell. She lives in the island state of Tasmania where she walks with her dogs, reads, cooks, adventures with her daughter and dreams up new challenges for her characters. She is often smiling when she writes her stories. She hopes her readers smile as well.

~ o ~

Meanwhile, don’t miss all the other amazing books on sale at Extasy Books.

Backlist Christmas stories are 50% off, and all other backlist releases are 40% off.

 

 

Release Blitz: When the Glow Lights the Woods by Eule Grey (@EuleGrey) #LGBTQIA+ #fantasy

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Title: When the Glow Lights the Woods

Author: Eule Grey

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 11/22/2022

Heat Level: 1 – No Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 28200

Genre: Fantasy, LGBTQIA+, alternate universe/dystopia, winter/Christmas festivity, gay, YA, coming of age, first love, teacher, animals, conflicting societies, rich vs. poor, physical difference, family drama, friends to lovers

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Description

A snowy story of healing, birds, and the magic of connection.

The Wall? Who gives a snowman’s kiss about when the wars ended, or who built the divide that goes all the way around the planet? Whatever!

All anyone cares about is Christmas, when one lucky person gets to date someone from the other side. Who will it be this year?

Eighteen-year-old Kite Ripples loves birds, animals, and gazing at stars. He’s a good brother to leader, Mal. Mostly. As teacher, it’s Kite’s responsibility to dispel the rumours about people on the other side being robots—just a myth, right? Deep down, he understands no human is better, or worse, than any other. And, if he dreams of meeting a guy like him—who wants to kiss—it doesn’t mean Kite’s a rebel. Not he!

Manu Feathers, also eighteen, lives on the other side. Gets into trouble. Likes boys. Breaks laws and wants more. Like everyone, he’s fixated on those over the divide—simultaneously scared and excited by rumours of too much sex. It’s a lot to get your head round.

Kite is selected to climb under the Wall, and it’s the best Christmas present ever. But nothing goes to plan. Instead of picking the perfect boy, all he notices is the guy on the end, acting out. Who’d choose a nuisance like him?

Can the highest Wall prevent first love? Can a kiss heal a baby bird?

Excerpt

When the Glow Lights the Woods
Eule Grey © 2022
All Rights Reserved

By breakfast time on the first day of December, I was dizzy with excitement. Drunk from the intoxicating question on everyone’s lips. Barely able to focus. More talkative than normal and in no way fit for work.

Is the Wall glowing?

I didn’t dare hope he’d allow me to skip duties, but it was worth a try.

“Mal? Can I miss work today? How about it, huh? It’s very important to be mentally ready. You know—because of representing our side. You don’t want me nodding off. I’m extremely tired from the, er, stress.”

Is the Wall glowing? Is it?

My brother remained strict and inferred I was a lazy oaf.

“Stress? Ha-ha, hee-hee. Nice try. Get out there, eighteen-year-old grandad! Sooner you start work, the sooner you’ll finish.”

Normally, I’d have stayed around to point out the scientific flaws in his doubtful logic but didn’t fancy a battle. Not so close to Christmas.

Despite sparkling frost and breaky-necky ice, duties beckoned. I fed the chickens and collected eggs—fifteen, woo-hoo. Attempted to fix their enclosure fence and forgot to close the gate. The hens squawked with glee and galloped off over the frozen parsnip fields. Not even such catastrophe dampened my spirits—I hopped over to my brother and innocently raked leaves.

“Ma-aal? Someone’s broken the fence. The hens are free. Could you?”

With herculean efforts, I survived the day, even managing a sneaky read, albeit a quickie. We weren’t supposed to read during work time. If my sister found out, there’d be trouble. Bar knocking myself unconscious, what else could a guy do? Reading remained the only certain method of calming frazzled nerves. My equilibrium, tenuous at best, was ruined by the magnitude of the occasion.

Glow day! Man-o-the-moon. After a lifetime of wishing, my dream hovered within a snowman’s breath. I, Kite Ripples, teacher—chosen to sound the annual alarm. Maybe. Hopefully. If the time was right.

A guard’s duties were fairly simple: on the first of the month, the anointed—me—trudged the length of the fruit fields and across Troll Bridge. Through Frogs Wood and onwards to the Wall, I went with the question mentally lit like the brightest fire.

Is it Glow Day?

The distance to the Wall from our caravan wasn’t far. The ground between tended towards bogginess, conditions often cold enough to freeze resolve. Still, it was a very easy journey. Just…follow the Wall. It ran through our land and on forever, covering the planet, or so people said. Not even Kite Ripples could get lost, and I was extremely talented in that particular department. My brother liked to tell stories of tying toddler me to the kissing tree because of my childish wandering habits. Always curious, even as a tiny boy.

We each got a turn to be guard, even me. At eighteen, I was the youngest of my generation and the only member not yet anointed. People said going under the Wall changed your life and perspectives. My sister, Ana, claimed the experience made her crave stability. Following anointment, she partnered Rich and produced three gorgeous kids. When I asked why going under the Wall caused such an effect, she shrugged and said I’d have to wait to find out. It was different for everyone.

According to Mal, the magic occurred during the infamous meeting between anointed and special person. Nobody agreed on the details. Many argued it manifested as immense happiness. Mal stuck with his theory about magic emanating from the glow like green, seeking fingers.

What if all I sensed was a stomachache? Kite Ripples got the sicks, ha-ha-ha.

Halfway through the tunnel, the anointed reached a metallic doorway positioned between two worlds. Some fled. My friend Luca had swivelled around at that point and headed for home.

I was determined not to run. Not me. Like my brother and sister before, I was hell-bent on reaching the other side and helping my people on their journey towards self-dependency.

Mal declared the return journey the most profound aspect of the whole process. Nobody remembered exactly what happened. Whereas most agreed the meetings were impactful, my brother claimed to have been ‘unchanged.’

Not true. Mal had been affected all right. Though normally a private fella who didn’t reveal much, following his anointment, he wept into my hair. Ever since, on the day of the glow, his eyes became starry, and he reached for the guitar. Despite my best efforts, he wouldn’t talk about what had happened over there.

The purpose of the meetings was simply to enable both sides to learn, to have experience without judgment. Our visits were strictly regulated by both sides. Elders had signed the important documents, such as aims and agreements, long before my time.

According to community histories, the elders were our parents. Who knew? They vanished when I was a baby. They’d set off with the intention of making alliances with lands beyond, far away, in the forbidden direction. None had returned. Amazingly, we survived, flourished, and expanded, even without elders. We lived off farms, orchards, rivers, and allotments, as well as a small library. Some years, we did well, others, not so good. It depended on the erratic, unpredictable seasons.

When the longest afternoon waned, Ana gave the nod, meaning I was allowed to set off. “Time to check the Wall. Be careful, Kite. Don’t trip and twist your ankle like Gurti.”

My sister always looked out for me, same as everyone in our land. I loved her and hoped to bring home good news. “I will. Don’t worry.”

Mal waited by the fence encircling our camp. He grinned and opened his arms. “My little brother. Are you ready for the glow?”

“Yeah!”

During the night, he said he wished he could accompany me. But, rules. The anointed must travel alone to check for the glow. It aided the process of ‘finding yourself’, according to Ana. Knowing me, I’d find myself and not like the person I met. Kite Ripples, anomaly.

My brother passed across a bag. “Water and emergency sandwich. Come straight home, yeah? If you’re not back by and by, I’ll come find you. Okay? If you fall and get hurt, just stay calm and wait.”

Worrying was not new. Mal, Ana, and the other older members of our camp tended to fear the worst. Because they remembered the elders leaving…

My brother had always babied me. Mal liked to be in charge, and I wasn’t as physically strong as the others. It bothered me when I was younger.

Despite a dodgy track record, I determined not to fall or do anything stupid. “I’m eighteen. Old enough to—well—tackle the world. Ha-ha. See you later.”

He watched me leave with arms crossed and an expression like a summer storm. “Be careful!”

As one, my community cheered my exit from camp. “Kite, Kite, Kite! Find the Christmas glow! Is the Wall glowing? Good luck. Don’t let robots turn you to stone.”

I tutted and laughed. “Ha, ha. Very funny. Not.”

Mal said the rumour about the other side behaving like robots wasn’t true—a night story for kids, nothing more. Still, artificial people… With a shudder, I’d hidden the only book in the library about robots with blank eyes and metallic antennae. No point in dwelling.

Despite Mal’s warning about being surefooted, I ran. My emotions ranged from high—low—extra-high—low. By Frogs Wood, I was a mess, questioning if the time was right. What if I’d made a mistake about days and times? It was possible yet not likely, since I was a community librarian and teacher. Nobody else bothered with books or dates.

Head down, so as not to spoil the surprise, I finally passed the last tree of Frogs Wood and stepped into the clearing. High—low—high-high-high.

Man-o-the-moon! Green, pink, and yellow lights arched across our dense woods in a resplendent rainbow. Sparkling stars flashed and merged with the subtle shades of nature.

For a while, I was caught by the visage of ancient forces of light and dark squaring up for a fight. I stood, frozen by a green glowing pulse battering the gloom before retreating over the Wall.

When coldness bit, I stumbled towards home with an unsteady, painful gait—run—lope—run—trip. Frogs Wood and the winding river. A stitch. Run—lope—stumble—trip—stagger onto Troll Bridge.

Ahead, I made out the shapes of our caravans and the outline of my waiting brother. Excitement burst free into a yell-cum-shout. “It’s lit! The Wall is lit by the glow. I’ve never seen anything like it. Christmastime, Mal. Woo-oo. Tomorrow, I get to go under!”

Instead of cheering as expected, my brother gazed towards the woods, hands clasped together across his heart. His expression was difficult to decipher.

“Always,” he said. “Always, my darling.”

“Mal! Puke.”

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Eule Grey has settled, for now, in the north UK. She’s worked in education, justice, youth work, and even tried her hand at butter-spreading in a sandwich factory. Sadly, she wasn’t much good at any of them!

She writes novels, novellas, poetry, and a messy combination of all three. Nothing about Eule is tidy but she rocks a boogie on a Saturday night!

For now, Eule is she/her or they/them. Eule has not yet arrived at a pronoun that feels right.

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#NewRelease: The Necromancer’s Heart, by Robin Harper @Suntail7 #LGBTQIA+ #fantasy #booklover #bookblogger

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Title: The Necromancer’s Heart

Author: Robin Harper

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 11/16/2022

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 21300

Genre: Paranormal, LGBTQIA+, fantasy, supernatural, gay, first love, HFN

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Description

Mortimer’s life is set in stone. That is until he takes the reins and rejects his crown and his namesake. Striking out on his own, he discovers a whole new world and a whole new him. But even with all of the newness, falling in love is still his greatest dream.

Then he meets Galen. He never planned on falling for a man who stands for everything he’s not. Now he just has to deal with the significance of his birthright.

Excerpt

The Necromancer’s Heart
Robin Harper © 2022
All Rights Reserved

I fell into a hole.

I know, stellar move there. I was such a graceful individual. So graceful that I’d not only fallen into a hole, but I managed to sprain my ankle. Hopefully. I couldn’t tell for sure, but based on how painful it was, and how I could literally put no weight on the joint, I was betting it was broken. Only a fool would fall into a hole and break his ankle and thus remove any hope he had of getting out of said hole.

“Help!? Anyone up there?” I called out again for what seemed like the hundredth time. The sun had gradually been crawling along the sky so I knew I had to have been here for some hours, thank the living dead that night hadn’t fallen yet.

Alas, with no sign of passers-by or any fellow travelers that might take a moment of their day to aid me, I might have to think about this pit with its dirt and worms as my bed for the night.

And hope no wolves come for a snack.

Perhaps I should have stayed home and done as I was told. Those fairy tale stories made running away from a great destiny seem simple, and easy. I guessed reality must ever grind down on the mortals of the world to remind them they are but prisoners to fate on its plane of existence.

“Please! Someone! Anyone–help!” I cried again, despair thick in my voice. No one would hear me; what was the point? I was about to slump back against the dirt walls of my pit when a shadow danced along the side–and did the wind rustle the grass? Or was that the stepping of light feet? I eagerly pressed myself up against the side of the hole where I saw the shadow milling about. “Hey! Hey down here! Please help me!”

My hopes were dashed when two furry ears and a face of white whiskers greeted me. The accompanying ‘Maow’ crushed my heart.

“Oh, hello, adorable.” The cat was striped, black and white contrasting in defined lines across its face. The white whiskers wiggled as it ‘maow’ed’ down at me again, and I smiled despite my despair.

Cats always had an affinity for death and those of us who worked with it.

“Hey, sweetie—do you have a master? Hm? Someone who can pull me out of this pit? Anyone nearby to hear your small meows?”

“Maow!” the critter called down while its striped tail swayed behind it.

I sighed, “No, I suppose you don’t…”

The cat gave a trill and wandered away. My shoulders slumped as I took in my earthy prison. I guess I’d better make myself comfortable for the night, and try to find a stick or something as a weapon… Maybe one of the tree roots was hard enough to use as a blunt force weapon…

While I was hopping over to the other side of my dirty sanctuary the cadence of someone yelling echoed down the pit. Faint—but most assuredly a human’s voice.

Oh, praise the Dead!

“Hello! Over here! Please help me!” I bellowed, attempting to make my voice go as far as possible.

“Blasted pet–what are you doing? Stop tripping me!” Did the cat find help? Was that something a cat could do?

Not possible. But despite possibilities and probabilities, a petite black and white striped head with whiskers and big fluffy ears popped up again and gave me a friendly “Maow,” while its tail swished. I smirked, awkwardly because now I heard heavier, human footsteps approaching. And while that should spell my freedom from this forsaken hole, it meant interacting with another person.

I wanted out of this pit, of course, but my social graces were rusty to say the least. The mere idea of speaking and interacting with another person was a daunting task now. Hopefully it was some old man who would offer me a ride in the back of his potato wagon so that we didn’t have to speak so much while he took me to the nearest town…

The figure that appeared beside the striped kitty was not that of an old man. Oh no, I would never be that lucky. No, my fate was cruel and instead of some crotchety old man with beady, pale grey eyes and scruff for hair, a pair of golden-brown eyes met mine, a solid frame, square jawline. Skin that had been kissed by a thousand suns, thick, dark hair…and a furrow formed between two fine eyebrows as he startled at seeing someone very much alive in this hole.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Robin Harper is a bisexual, polyamorous witch who lives with her husband and two sweet ginger cats in the cold northern state of Minnesota. She finds joy in creating stories about love, and healing, as well as weaving ghost tales and supernatural encounters. She is also an avid reader, an optician during the day, and a lover of coloring books.

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Dragon Bridge by E D Parr @Parr_books #NewRelease #MM #LGBTQ+ #MFRWAuthor

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Thank you for inviting me to your blog with my new release MM romance release, Dragon Bridge, from Evernight Publishing

I first started thinking about this story around two years ago when I saw a shadow across the full moon that looked like a dragon. It was a dark gray cloud, but it captured my imagination and for a year, I considered a plot that might work that sight into a story and so the legend of Ponte Drago, (Dragon Bridge) was born.

It still took me a year to write Dragon Bridge, weaving my legend through the love story to provide the background for characters.

I researched Italy, where the bulk of the story takes place, a little, just enough to imagine places that might exist, but not enough to describe existing towns as I wrote that might take away from the mysterious element I wanted in the story. I’d love to visit Italy for the art that exists there … maybe one day.

My lovely hero Key Alder is an ordinary guy, worn down by life as many people are. Naturally, I’m in love with him, as I am with all my characters. We meet him when he’s struggling emotionally with his work. His journey through this love story allows him to find his lost confidence and in the end, huge courage.

Claudio Di Fiore, my other hero, as Key Alder puts it, is gorgeous and enigmatic. I think, right now, he is one of my favorite characters from any of my MM romance stories. His love for Key is steadfast and fierce. He’s fearless until he falls in love with Key and then Claudio’s only fear is losing him.

The story is contemporary, gay, MM romance, fantasy, adventure, and paranormal romance.

I hope readers enjoy the legend and the love story as much as I loved writing it.

Blurb

Tired from his high stress work fighting cyber-crime, handsome, Key Alder takes a vacation on a beautiful Italian coast. He travels from one gorgeous town to another and after a perilous journey lost in the mountains, he settles into his hotel and relaxes.

In a beachside café, next to a warm pale-blue ocean, a performer hands out fliers for an arts festival in a mountain village. Lured by adventure, Key attends an evening performance of fire juggling acrobats in the legendary village piazza.

Beautiful, enigmatic Claudio Di Fiore, the star of the show, sees Key in the audience and is captured by a wonderful feeling he’s unaccustomed to.

Claudio wants Key.

Key is enchanted by Claudio.

A passionate love grows between the two men.

When Claudio’s mysterious ancient family threaten to tear them apart, will Key risk everything to stay with his loved one?

Read a teaser. Key arrives at his first vacation destination.

As he turned a corner of the high coast road, Key caught his breath as his destination came into sight. The entire hillside of a gorgeous bay housed buildings interspersed with trees and flowering shrubs. Several rooftops sprouted palms in huge pots or tubs of bright flowers. Each building climbed the sheer hillside effortlessly from a beach of white sand toward a wall of crags enclosing the bay. The sun slanted off a jade colored dome and sprinkled glitter on primary colored buildings close by. Key slowed to enter the town, already well below the speed limit in awe of the view, he crawled the car to his hotel. Key had spent hours on the internet making sure he knew where it lay. His newfound fragile lightheartedness wouldn’t stand going around in circles until he was exhausted trying to find the place.

A valet took his car keys to park his rental. A porter picked up his luggage and led him to check in. Relieved by these ministrations, Key smiled at the desk clerk. He gave his name. The young woman on duty returned his smile and keyed something into a computer, then she stood and took a keycard from one of the small rectangular openings in the wall behind the desk. Her near perfect English as she spoke to him was reassuring, but Key decided right then that he’d try to learn some Italian. Then I could at least greet people and say thank you.

Copyright E. D. Parr, Evernight Publishing July 28, 2022

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https://www.evernightpublishing.com/dragon-bridge-by-e-d-parr/

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Siren Bookstrand, coming soon

KOBO

NOOK

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COVER REVEAL! THE DEADLY RECKONINGS by Rebecca and Victoria Heap @beccaboowriter #MFRWAuthor #fantasy #shapeshifterseries #alphamale #epicfantasyromance

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The Deadly Reckonings is the first book in an all-new epic adventure fantasy series called The Tribes of Feralis.

If you like animalistic worlds, daring heroes, fierce heroines, edge-of-your-seat adventure, heartbreaking romance, and enough twists and turns to leave you wondering what on earth (or not on earth…on Feralis!) just happened, this is the series for you.

An animalistic world. A forbidden passion. A brutal contest.

The old Alpha’s time is coming to an end, and the Deadly Reckonings are swiftly approaching. The victor of these brutal trials will become the new Alpha and rule over the four allied tribes of Feralis.

Devlin, a young man with the animal aspect of a golden lion, dreams of shaping a better world and taking control from the power-hungry clutches of the cruel and dominating Reptilia.

Riva, a princess of the exiled Skylarian tribe, is doomed to be bound to her father’s preferred suitor.

Their worlds collide and Devlin’s animal immediately recognises her for what she is –  his true mate.

But their tribes are enemies. They should never have met. Their love is forbidden.

Follow Devlin as he faces the Deadly Reckonings, testing his nature and limits against other competitors, merciless monsters, perilous terrain, and his own desperate hopes.

Can he be victorious and claim the status of Alpha? Can he dare to reach for a woman who does not belong to him?

Or will a mortal foe, a misfit sister, and even fate itself stand in his way?

Available NOW on PREORDER

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0B7RKYYKL/

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0B7RKYYKL/

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/61850754-the-deadly-reckonings

Netgalley:

https://www.netgalley.com/catalog/book/264798

Author bio:

We are twin sisters and we come from Bolton, a friendly town in Lancashire, UK. We would love to tell you about all the unusual jobs we have had and the wacky adventures we had on our way to becoming authors, since that is what other authors seem to do in these bios. Unfortunately, we are somewhat lacking in that respect. However, our birth was very eventful as neither our mother nor the midwives attending realised that she was having twins until just after Rebecca was born! Our aim is to make our writing as surprising and marvellous as that!

We have always loved escaping into the limitless worlds of the written word and remember first writing stories to each to other as very young children in old exercise books. We self-published our first books, thrilling suspense duology, Dark Betrayal and Dark Secrets. We are thrilled to be with Odyssey Books for our latest labour of love, epic, romantic fantasy trilogy, The Tribes of Feralis.

If you come to read about the animalistic world we have created, you may gather that we are “cat people”. We grew up with a lovely little tabby who was an intrinsic part of our childhood. Now Rebecca has a socially awkward but loving female cat called Maisie and Victoria has two beautiful, big, ever-hungry male cats called Bert and Ernie!

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Extract:

Devlin considered her. She sounded sane enough, even though he had to strain to catch her meaning and had the disturbing feeling she was laughing at him. Her comment drew his gaze to her garment. Still wet, it clung to the delicate curves of her body, which he couldn’t help but admire. This time, when his eyes came back to rest on hers, he caught a blush rise up into her cheeks, contrasting starkly with her milk-pale skin.  The effect was ingénue and radiant and Devlin was taken off guard for a second time. The features he’d prematurely considered bizarre and disturbing, he was led to concede, were, in their own way, astonishingly beautiful.

She shivered, whether from cold or his intense regard He couldn’t be sure. She dropped her hand. He suddenly realised how thoughtless he’d been. Here she was dripping wet and clearly chilled, and all he’d done was gawp at her like a mindless idiot! The problem was, he didn’t even have a cloak to offer her, as all his clothes were as wet as hers.

“You’re cold,” he said. “Do you have anything dry to wear?”

Her eyes widened in surprise with these, the first of his words to her. She perhaps found his accent as odd as hers was to him. She shook her head.

He laughed. “Funny that,” he said, looking down at himself. “Neither have I!”

She began to laugh along with him. This made him feel good. When they stopped, he couldn’t stop himself from staring at her again. She nervously turned her head away, looking toward the forest, as if considering flight after all. He frowned. What sort of woman was she and where had she come from?

“You’re not from around here, are you?” he asked. She shook her head again.

Devlin still thought she might be some kind of madwoman, but she was clearly in need of a meal as well as a change of clothes, seeing how skinny she was. Perhaps she had taken his fishing rod with a view to fishing for herself.  But why was no one protecting her or looking after her? One thing was certain: he couldn’t leave her out here alone. She was far too young and defenceless.

“Why don’t I take you to my home, so we can both change out of these wet things and have something warm to eat? Gone are my chances of catching a fish for breakfast, but we have some oatmeal and my sister should have something that will fit you.”

She shook her head in alarm and backed away from him.

Her reaction to his offer confused him, but then what had he expected? She wasn’t exactly normal by any stretch.

“It’s very kind of you,” she said slowly, recognising the need

to do so, given their disparate ways of speaking, “but I’m fine. I’ll just be on my way.”

“And where might that be? Where do you live?” When she didn’t respond, he pressed: “Have you run away from home?” This seemed to him the only logical explanation for her silence and solitary state.

She bit her lip and lowered her head, which he interpreted as an affirmation.

“You can’t stay out here on your own, you know. It’s dangerous.”

Her head came up at that and she challenged, “I’ve made it on my own this far.”

He raised an eyebrow. “And how far is that?”

“Farther than you’ll ever know.” She began to walk away from him.

He followed, continuing to harangue her, exasperated by her reluctance to accept help and shelter. All his protective instincts were suddenly kicking in. Even his cat seemed oddly agitated and anxious to assist her.

“How are you going to eat? I’ve got the fishing tackle, remember. How do you think you’re going to survive?”

She turned to him. “Are you offering to give me your fishing device back?”

He growled in frustration at her then, and his face briefly assumed its cat-like form.

Stunned, she stumbled back, her eyes large with fright. “I don’t need your help!” she shouted. “Leave me alone!” She turned and ran, clearly keen to put as much distance between them as possible.

Surely, she must have witnessed a man in his animal form before? Or had she? He had no idea of her background or where she was from. He must have given her a good scare. He thought about letting her go. But he was too concerned by her stubborn refusal to acknowledge the perils of her situation. She reminded

him of someone; she reminded him of his sister. Kyra didn’t listen to him either and could be as hard-headed as a rock about accepting she was female and needed nurturing. The thought of his little sister, who thought she was so self-sufficient but still needed him in so many ways, persuaded him to persevere. He just needed to adopt a different strategy.

Easily catching up to her, ignoring the little gasps of distress she emitted when she realised he was back, he ran alongside her and said, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you like that.”

She did not respond but just carried on running, turning her head to cast accusing glances at him, eyes still wide with alarm.

“Please,” he persisted. “Please don’t run away. You have nothing to fear from me, I promise.”

He kept with her, smiling at her whenever she glanced his way until she must have realised that she would achieve nothing but exhaustion by continuing. She finally stopped running, frustration seeming to have superseded fear, and glared at him.

“Why do you keep following me?” she demanded. He smiled at her again.

“Look, as I’ve already tried to tell you, you’re not safe on your own around here. Who knows what monsters you might bump into?”

She must have caught his teasing as he saw her lips twitch a little at his words. “No, who knows?” she repeated. “Mad, persistent cat men for one!”

Devlin laughed. The girl smiled tentatively back at him. He was surprised by the surge of joy from his cat. It seemed even his cat wanted to please her. He much preferred this smiling girl to the frightened one.

“Come back with me, even if only for the fishing rod, if you still want the stupid thing. You need it more than I do and I can easily make another one.”

This was not exactly true, as he had spent some time sourcing the right type of wood and cord, taking pride in his efforts and resourcefulness, as he gradually improved upon its strength and pliability.

He offered his hand, replicating her own gesture from earlier. She looked down at it warily. Then she looked up into his face. He could see her eyes roving over his features, as if checking for signs of the cat he had unwisely exposed earlier. He felt the blood rush to his face at her scrutiny. By the Creator, surely he wasn’t blushing now?

She must have seen something she approved of as she slipped her hand into his. His cat purred in appreciation. The warmth from her grip seemed to spread like some kind of contagious burn all over his body. They walked back to the lakeside, Devlin feeling strangely lightheaded.

When they got there, Devlin reluctantly released her hand and went to retrieve his rod and line. He came back toward her, holding it out to her. It was then that he realised she was crying. Why was she crying? Perhaps her emotions were as cockeyed as his own. Whatever the cause, his heart flipped on him and, before he could stop himself, he’d dropped the rod and pulled her into his arms.

She stiffened in surprise but then slowly settled against him, like a small, nervous animal.

Devlin stroked her long, damp tresses in a gesture of comfort and, as she nestled her head against his chest, he felt her release a pent-up breath, half sob, half sigh. Devlin experienced an unexpected rush of hot satisfaction as her body warmed against him and their hearts slowed in time to each other’s beat.

When she pushed away from him, he loosened his grip but, in doing so, felt the oddest sensation from within. His animal, already curiously roused and usually so placid in peaceful moments, protested strongly. When she lifted her head away from his chest, the proximity of her fascinating face and compelling scent overwhelmed him. He wasn’t sure if it was he or the cat who governed his next move. His mouth was covering hers before she could make a sound in objection.

As he deepened the kiss and she submitted, Devlin felt himself losing control. The taste of her was like nothing he had ever known, leaving his human essence weak with gluttony and his cat crazed.

He tore himself away from her, feeling slightly unhinged. His cat had attempted to dominate him, in a way that he hadn’t experienced since his turning. He shook with the shock of it. How close had he come to allowing his primitive nature to possess him? He realised that he didn’t even know this girl’s name.

He stepped away from her as if she was on fire and, maybe for him, she was. Her hair was certainly the colour of flames, he thought, as he watched some stray dry strands dance and then settle back around her alluring face. Perhaps he should have taken heed of the warning. Red in nature always meant stay away.

“Who are you?” he whispered.

She answered shakily. “My name is Riva. What did you just do to me?”

Devlin almost laughed. What had he done to her? What had she done to him? “It’s called a kiss,” he said. “It was just a kiss,” he repeated, as if to convince himself, as well as her, of that fact.

Cover reveal organised by Writer Marketing Services.