Book Tour Stop/Giveaway: Resort Two Murder by Joanna Campbell Slan

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Joanna Campbell Slan will be awarding a $25 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Kiki Lowenstein heads to Florida for sand, sunshine, and family time—until a shocking death pulls her into a mystery simmering beneath the resort’s perfect surface. With craftiness and heart, she dives into a dangerous tangle of lies that only she can unravel.

Read an Excerpt

The scream ripped through the dawn and straight into my spine. I didn’t breathe until I reached the balcony.

Seven floors below, a housekeeper stood frozen at the pool’s edge, hands over her mouth. The turquoise water rippled around hair the color of fire.

Copper hair.

Floating.

Still.

My blood turned to ice.

“Mom?” Sixteen-year-old Anya whispered behind me. Pale. Too pale. “What happened?”

“I don’t know yet. Stay back. Keep your brothers inside.” My voice didn’t tremble, but everything inside me did.

I yanked the curtains closed, but not before my mind captured every detail: the purple satin gown billowing under the water, the bare feet, the drifting red hair like a drowning sunrise.

Then Brawny — my fierce, loyal Scot nanny — sprinted into the courtyard and dove in, shoes and all. She flipped the girl over, started mouth-to-mouth, refusing to accept what the water already knew.

Could this be real?

Sirens wailed in the distance. And I stood frozen on the balcony, one hand pressed to my heart, silently begging for a miracle.

It didn’t come.

The red-haired model from last night’s fashion show was gone.

About the Author:

Joanna Campbell Slan is a New York Times, USA Today, and Amazon bestselling author known for her engaging women's fiction and mystery novels. With nearly 80 books to her credit, including contributions to the original Chicken Soup for the Soul series, Joanna specializes in stories featuring strong female protagonists and the power of women's friendships. Her tagline, "Creating a better world one story at a time” perfectly captures the spirit of her work, as she has a keen interest in presenting all sides of social issues. Joanna is best known for her Kiki Lowenstein Mystery Series, which spans 19 books and 42 short works, chronicling the growth of a widowed mother who finds new purpose through crafting and sleuthing.

Living on a nearly deserted island off the coast of Florida, Joanna draws inspiration from her surroundings and her love for various crafts, including Zentangle®, crochet, and upcycling. Her accomplishments include winning the Daphne du Maurier Award for Literary Excellence for her continuation of Charlotte Brontë's Jane Eyre. Contact her at JCSlan@JoannaSlan.com

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Discover Incubus by Jonathan Wright

Title: Incubus

Author: Jonathan Wright

Cover Art: Bryan Keller

Genres: Action Adventure, BDSM, Dark Fantasy, Mystery & Suspense, New Releases, Paranormal, Romance

Themes: Age Gap (Older Man), Capture Fantasy, Dark Romance, LGBTQ+ /Bisexual, Nonbinary, Transgender, Magic, Sorcery, and Witchcraft, Military, Veterans, and First Responders, Multicultural & Interracial, Voyeurism and Exhibitionism

Series: Joseph Horn (#6)

Book Length: Novella

Page Count: 30

Synopsis

Warning: This is a Razor’s Edge Erotica short story. Expect limited plot and character development, and lots of heat. If you’re looking for a lengthy plot driven erotic romance, this is not it!

Life -- and love -- with a man who fights nightmares is bound to be… different.

Smart, capable, and lethal, Sarah Fenton never needed rescuing -- until she met Joe Horn and his horrifying nemesis, the muck-drippy-thing. Together they defeated that nightmare, and for the first time in decades Joe could stop running.

In the process, Sarah discovered her weakness -- Joe. The hard-as-nails woman becomes Joe’s willing sub -- his slave girl. Joe is a perfect Dom, but Sarah has even darker fantasies -- lurid, sensual and totally submissive. Sometimes, they even come to life.

Now one of them is stalking her, and she feels the awful temptation of nightmarish pleasure. The darker the fantasy, the more intense the pleasure. Pleasure stronger than any drug. Pleasure that threatens to drown her. The pleasure of surrender… to an Incubus.

Excerpt

Incubus (Joseph Horn 6)
Jonathan Wright
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2025 Jonathan Wright

Jongo infested her fantasies, dark, muscular, commanding. Sarah masturbated three or four times a day thinking of him coming to take her, dragging her by her hair, stumbling naked from the house, immune to his kicks and punches, honed by years of training that would kill an ordinary man.

Not ordinary, Jongo. Not him. No. Her struggles only fed his burning hunger. And hers. As now. As naked as she was, his huge cock throbbing and bouncing as he walked, his grip was casual, yet inhumanly strong.

Stronger even than Joe, whom she had called Master more often than not. But this wasn’t really about Joe…

* * *

Exhausted, struggling to keep her feet as she stumbled, Sarah gave up, then was dragged, then followed him limply, his grip in her thick hair making her walk head down, like a slave, cursing, then crying, then sobbing… please, please, please.

Please, what? The demon’s strength, already huge, increased as he stepped out of the trees onto the beach. As his foot touched the water, he dragged her upright until she stood with her head tilted back, staring up at him. He pushed her away, his hooded eyes nearly invisible in the shadows of the moon. “Kneel.” He grinned as he stroked his cock with his free hand.

Sarah stumbled and fell into knee-deep water. Rising, sputtering as water streamed down her body, defiance failed her; words choked her. She breathed heavily, staring at his cock.

“Recall how I took you before, so easily, wrapping you in my vines, my seaweed, stroking your hungry body until you begged me to take you. How I made you scream my name.”

Her legs quivered. She wanted to curse him, scream for help, for Joe to… rescue…

Sarah had never in her life needed rescuing. Except for one time…

* * *

The wind sucked her along the dirty cement floor, into the waiting maw of that THING, the muck-drippy-thing, as she steadied the pistol and emptied the fourteen-round clip into its indescribable excuse for a face as the spindly spider arms reached for her…

Then Joe was there, grabbing her by the collar and pulling her back. Stronger than any man she had ever known. Pulling her back from the edge. Saving her.

* * *

Sarah hadn’t felt weak. Not then. Not like she felt now.

Weak. So weak. Why do I feel this way? Jongo is a monster, a creature from the icy black depths of the harshest place on earth. Why do I feel so fucking hot?

She stroked her clit with one hand as she slowly sank to her knees in the warm, swirling water. She spread the fingers of her other hand and teased her nipples, shivering as she imagined being held against her will in the depths of his lair.

“You are helpless,” Jongo told her. “Helpless.” A ritual. A spell.

Yes. Helpless! Helpless! I am helpless! Her mouth fell open. She arched her back, presenting her full tits.

I have to stop. I have to be strong! “No!” she gasped in a purposely seductive parody of defiance. Wait. Purposely? Like I want this?

Jongo grinned and said nothing, continued stroking his cock. His huge, erect cock. She couldn’t stop looking at it. At him. I love cock. I love it. Joe says I’m a cock-hungry slut. I get wet when he whispers that to me.

Helpless… His voice faded, still there, still commanding. She came with a short, harsh cry as the orgasm claimed her.

Jongo laughed. “You have already surrendered. Do as I command! Keep stroking yourself!”

She did. I can’t stop. I can’t disobey him. It feels so good to obey. I want more!

“Think how my hard cock will feel in your hot, wet cunt. You will beg for it. Beg for it, woman! Beg for my cock! For when you do, when I plunge into you, you will be mine. My slave. Forever!”

Sarah came again, moaning this time, closing her eyes and thrusting hard, pushing her fingers deep into her soft tits. “Yes! Jongo, fuck me! Yes! Make me your slave! Make me your slave!”

She dropped back into the water as he fell on her, forcing her legs apart, driving his cock into her, driving her will deep down into the chill, black depths of his domain where it dissolved like tendrils of ink. She wrapped her legs around him and thrust mindlessly, screaming as she came and came and…

* * *

Sarah lay on the table on the veranda, sweating, her tits heaving, her knees spread, hips moving rhythmically up and down in time with her frantic thrusts as she came for the fifth time. “Ah, fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” She rammed the dildo into her cunt one final time before slowly drawing it out. Her whole body quivered, drenched in sweat, as she lowered her legs and stretched, groaning.

“Well, I think you must clean off that table before you use it for anything else.”

Sarah gasped in shock, but without shame or embarrassment.

Belle stood not three feet away, a gorgeous Jamaican woman of medium height and surpassing curves, dressed in paint spattered clothes and carrying various implements of artistic creation. “You missing your man Joe? He’s only been gone a day.” Belle arched one elegant brow for emphasis.

Sarah dropped the dildo and draped one arm over her sweaty face. “You have no idea…” Joe liked to watch her fuck herself like that. Imagining him doing so made it hotter for her.

Belle chuckled and began setting up an easel. “So hot for your Dom, you maybe forget we had an appointment to paint those luscious curves?”

Purchase at Changeling Press

Meet the Author

Jonathan Wright retired to the northeast, where he is surrounded by family and trees in about equal numbers. In his free time he enjoys thinking up erotically terrifying situations for his characters, who insist they don’t like that sort of thing. When he isn’t writing about slavering fangs in the dark he does weird-ass paintings.

He has a daughter who will admit to the relationship under duress. He puts up with her because she makes great cookies.

We don't know why she puts up with him.

 

Tour Stop/Giveaway: 1822 Brothers and Sisters by J.A. Boulet

 

Check out the tour stop for J.A. Boulet's 1833 Brothers & Sisters today and make sure to enter the tour wide giveaway as the author is giving away a $15 Amazon/BN Gift Card. The tour is sponsored by Goddess Fish Promotions and make sure to check out all the other tour stops HERE as the more you comment, the more entries you may get in the giveaway.

Author Interview with J.A. Boulet

Tell us about your latest book, who are the main characters and what we can expect when we pick it up.

1833 Brothers & Sisters is a story about the tumultuous period before the American Civil War. Slaves were escaping to the northern states, and Natives were being thrown out of their homes. In Philadelphia, the influential Eastman Empire is controlled by Jesse Eastman in 1833. When an estranged brother enlists a group of unscrupulous thugs to take over, all hell breaks loose.  

Taking the story from a concept to a published book is a long and involved process. How does that usually work for you?

It usually takes me 3-6 months to write the first draft. Then another 2-6 months for editing, formatting, cover, and media releases. I wrote this book at a more leisurely pace because I was feeling a lot of pressure lately. It took me slightly longer than an entire year from start to finish.

Which of your books would you recommend for readers to choose first if they’re new to you and your books?

I would suggest reading 1956 Love & Revolution or Whichever Way The Road Leads first. I believe these are my best books. There's a lot of history that you’ll learn about in these two books. But 1833 Brothers & Sisters is a good treat too! I heard from many readers that they read one book and searched for more of my books to read, so enjoy! I have 7 books available, and I’ll be writing my 8^th soon.

How do you approach character development in your stories? Do you have any specific techniques or methods that you find particularly effective?

My books are mostly character-driven. My characters come to life on their own, it seems. To keep the story from getting out of control, I follow an outline. Also, my antagonists are sometimes hard for me to write, so I listen to songs and music about what I think the antagonist would like. It helps me get into their evil minds. My favorite song for this book was The Devil Wears a Suit & Tie. Listen to it!

What do you believe sets your writing apart from others in your genre, and why should readers choose to read your books?

I write realistic romance, with a good dose of history. Not everyone is perfect, and love hurts.

Can you discuss any upcoming projects or books that you're currently working on? What can readers expect from your future works?

I will be starting my next book in December 2025. It will either be about the 1850s Gold Rush or a standalone book about letters during the Holodomor. Which one would you want to read?

1833 BROTHERS & SISTERS

by J.A. Boulet

GENRE: Historical Western Romance

Buy at Amazon

A peek into the Underground Railroad and the tumultuous period before the American Civil War.

 

In 1833 Philadelphia, the northern states of America were changing, and not everyone was keen on altering the status quo. Black slaves were being freed, and new slaves were no longer allowed.

 

But the southern states didn't always agree. Natives were being thrown out of their homes for living too close to gold, and escaped black slaves were being hunted down. Jesse Eastman controls the affluent Eastman Empire and frees a former slave, his half-sister Georgina. But some family members don't like it.

 

When an estranged brother gets the idea to let a ruthless gang of property buyers initiate a takeover, all hell breaks loose.

 

1833 Brothers & Sisters will pull you into an old western-style family saga, filled with greed, marital love, family conflict, and smoking gun shootouts

Excerpt One:

 When Zee stepped back into the mansion, several angry shouts from the office raised the hairs on her neck. She padded quickly up the stairs and turned to look down the stairs behind her. Billy stormed out of the main floor office, flanked by Jesse, Xavier, and Samuel.

 

Jesse was waving a large document in his hand. His dress shoes clacked on the marble floors as he chased Billy from the house. “This is not a legal document!” Jesse shouted, his voice reverberating against the tiled ceiling. “You don’t even have signing authority for the Empire!”

 

Billy brazenly turned and shouted back. “I am an Eastman! I can sign a bill of sale for my family business.” His voice thundered across the entire mansion.

 

Jesse’s face turned red, and his breathing expanded and contracted in his chest as he tried to control his urge to punch his brother in the face. “Get out,” Jesse calmly stated.

 

“What?” Billy shouted.

 

“You heard me,” Jesse replied quietly. Xavier and Samuel positioned themselves to quickly intervene if the two brothers began physically fighting.

 

“You’re telling me to leave?” Billy’s finger flew in the air and pointed accusingly at Jesse.

 

“Yes, Billy,” Jesse glowered, the anger still evident in his voice. “You attempted to sell the company illegally for a fraction of what it is worth to a bunch of thugs from Texas.” Jesse ground his teeth and clenched his hands into balls of anger. “You are officially extradited from the Eastman family. Father did it to me, and I am now doing it to you.” Jesse took two large strides towards his brother.

 

Billy jumped to the side to avoid a direct hit, but that wasn’t what Jesse was doing.

 

Enter to win a $15 Amazon/BN gift card.

Author Info and Links:

J. A. Boulet is a passionate historical fiction novelist weaving tales with strong romantic themes. Raised in a Hungarian refugee family, J. A. was born and grew up in Canada with strong moral convictions, which she has stood behind all her life. Ms. Boulet began writing poetry at a very young age and progressed to short stories and novels easily. She quickly became a history geek and became fascinated with ancestry and the rough path of immigration. Her university studies ranged from photojournalism to accounting. After decades of working in accounting, J. A. published her first book in 2020 and has since published one to two books annually. 

She lives in the Niagara region of Canada with her two sons, a crested gecko, a large Doberdor dog, and a small orchard of fruit trees. 

Website: https://jaboulet.ca/

Twitter link: https://twitter.com/love_walk_life

Instagram link: https://www.instagram.com/jabouletauthor/

YouTube link: https://www.youtube.com/@jabouletfiction8059/videos

Goodreads link: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/242036807-1833-brothers-sisters

Book Video: https://youtu.be/4ASTflLvjP4?si=EovjLXTEK-8Y-nLs

 

Cover Reveal: Legacy of Leather and Lace

Title: Legacy of Leather and Lace

Series: Hell's Handlers MC 2nd Generation

Author: Lilly Atlas

Genre: MC Romance

Tropes: Touch Her and Die; Forced Proximity; Hurt/comfort; MC President's Daughter; Found Family

Release Date: March 17, 2026

Beth Daniels grew up in the morally gray world of the Hell’s Handlers Motorcycle Club. Daughter of a legacy, surrounded by overprotective alpha bikers and fierce women who never backed down, she’s spent her whole life trying to prove she’s more than an MC princess. Smart, stubborn, and desperate to carve out her own identity, she left home determined to stand on her own. But independence comes at a price, and by the time she admits needing her family isn’t weakness, she’s trapped in a nightmare relationship that shatters her confidence and breaks something deep inside.

Saint knows what true darkness looks like. Raised in a militant cult, he learned early how to protect the vulnerable and fight with everything he has for the people he loves. As the second oldest of many siblings, responsibility is etched into his bones. So when he finds Beth in danger, he doesn’t hesitate; he pulls her out and becomes the one steady place in her crumbling world. And somewhere between watching over her and trying to keep his distance, the attraction he swore he’d never feel ignites.

She’s younger. She’s his president’s daughter. She already left the club once.
Wanting her isn’t just reckless, it’s dangerous.

As one of her father’s men, Saint is off-limits. Crossing that line could cost him everything, including the family he’s chosen. Beth refuses to be the reason Saint loses the brotherhood that saved him. But some connections are too strong to deny, and some temptations refuse to be ignored.

When enemies surface with Beth in their crosshairs, the biker who promised to stay away becomes the only man capable of burning the world down to keep her safe. And Beth, tired of being protected, tired of being told who she can be and who she can love, finally chooses her own life and her own man.

Their chemistry is wildfire.
Their secrets are landmines.
And loving a Hell’s Handler has never come without a price.

🚨 Content Warning: This book will have some on-page DV (NOT between H/h)

Lilly Atlas is an award-winning contemporary romance author, proud Navy wife, and mother of three spunky girls. For years, Lilly has been daydreaming and plotting characters in her head while driving, showering, and sometimes when she was supposed to be paying attention to something else. She finally decided to get the ideas out of her head and into books.

Every time Lilly downloads a new eBook, she expects her Kindle App to tell her it’s exhausted and overworked. She’s been waiting for the pop-up asking to please give it some rest. Thankfully, that hasn’t happened yet, so she can often be found absorbed in a new book.

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Tour Stop: Moon's Shadows by Shannon Blair

Title: Moon's Shadow

Series: Duskblade, Book Two

Author: Shannon Blair

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 12/23/2025

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 354

Genre: Fantasy, fantasy, elves, family, spies, sexual discovery, royalty, established relationship, revenge, betrayal, intrigue, coming out

Add to Goodreads

Description

Moranthus and Gerrick return to Dawn’s Gate in hopes of a happy homecoming, but Moranthus’s past as a duskblade stands in the way of his future. When a delegation from his native Moonridge pays a surprise visit to Dawn’s Gate’s court, Moranthus is enlisted as a guard for Prince Orthenn: a man he once tried to kidnap. With Gerrick still employed as Orthenn’s double, Moranthus welcomes the opportunity to shield his lover from harm alongside the prince he protects. Then, a familiar face reappears and calls his loyalties into question once again.

Gerrick, struggling to balance his duty with his love for Moranthus and the young daughter he’s only just returned to, hesitates to work alongside his lover. With his heart divided, he must find a way to reconcile his authentic self with his work as a false prince—all while trying to expose a suspected traitor in Dawn’s Gate’s court.

Meanwhile, in Moonridge, Matriarch Ilendra faces the consequences of her failed plot against Prince Orthenn. As she scrambles to save her reputation, both a new suitor and an old flame compete for her already divided attentions while her estranged half-brother makes an unexpected reappearance in her social sphere. With her personal affairs now as treacherous as her court, Ilendra must choose her allies carefully—or risk losing both her reign and her life.

Excerpt

Moon’s Shadow
Shannon Blair © 2025
All Rights Reserved

From the Prologue

It was not yet dawn. The bone-chilling winds that made Moonridge’s winters so infamously harsh screamed across the sea ice of Aurora’s harbor like a host of vengeful dead. Even tucked away inside her study, shielded by the fabled impregnable walls of Aurora’s palace and layers of furs, Ilendra could feel their icy bite. She should be in bed at this hour, waiting for the sun to rise and blunt the edge of winter’s chill. Instead, she sat in a hard-backed chair designed more for its regal appearance than its comfort, burning through precious firewood and candles as she pored over the contents of the most recent missive to reach her desk.

As Moonridge’s reigning Matriarch, she would be within her rights to leave the matter until morning and see to it that the courier responsible for disturbing her rest received a sharp reprimand for rousing her at this hour. But she had assumed a letter delivered in the dead of night by a goblin courier who had no business traveling so far into elven lands deserved her immediate attention. She had assumed correctly.

The courier’s letter was almost unnecessary. The red braid it contained was a message in itself. Ilendra eyed the length of hair coiled around her hand as though it were a viper poised to strike. It shone in the firelight like blood welling from a fresh wound. A fitting comparison, when she took the severed braid’s meaning into account. A meaning that she understood all too well.

Betrayal.

The image of her father as she’d last seen him surfaced, unwelcome and unbidden, from the depths of her mind. Anguish shining in his violet eyes like unshed tears as he dragged a razor across his throat, washing away any questions surrounding the legitimacy of Ilendra’s ascension to Moonridge’s throne with the rushing torrent of his lifeblood. Ten years later, Ilendra could still hear the soft gurgle of his dying breath as his features went slack and his eyes grew vacant. The soft thud of his body crumpling almost gracefully to the floor, as composed in death as he’d been in life. Exactly as an elven Patriarch should be. And exactly as Ilendra strove to conduct herself as Moonridge’s new Matriarch.

Sparing the life of her father’s lover, Moranthus, had been a mistake. In the wake of her father’s death, his declaration of loyalty to her had seemed genuine. But it had been an act of foolish weakness to believe such loyalty could last when Ilendra was responsible for the death of a man he’d been so utterly infatuated with. The moment Ilendra set him to a task of any real significance—his long-awaited chance to escape the shame of his unseemly involvement with a man above his station—Moranthus had turned on her, reducing years of immaculate planning to a smoldering ruin of folly.

A light, hesitant knock sounded on the door. Avalanche, the hulking ice bear who served Ilendra as a symbol of office, loyal mount, and steadfast companion, raised his head off his front paws and yawned. He tilted his head in curiosity as he regarded the source of the noise from his vantage point beside the ornamental fireplace at Ilendra’s back. His glossy, white coat glimmered like fresh snow in the firelight, interrupted only by the ink blots of his eyes, nose, and paws. Beneath that soft fur was a beast strong enough to kill a grown elf with a single swipe of his paw, each foot tipped with finger-long claws and jaws lined with dagger-sharp teeth. With such a stalwart guardian by her side, Ilendra hardly had need of the two frostguards posted outside her door, standing still as living statues in their slate-gray plate armor, their faces rendered expressionless by the blank visors of their helmets.

“Enter,” Ilendra called out, her voice clear and sharp. She ran a hand over her jet-black hair, woven into an eleven-strand Matriarch’s braid. As usual, not a single hair was out of place. She allowed herself a small hum of satisfaction at the knowledge. Unlike her fool half-brothers, she hadn’t been lucky enough to inherit her father’s royal-white hair—and, much to the chagrin of her advisors, had refused to have her hair powdered or magicked white to conform to her people’s expectations of what a Matriarch should look like—but at least she knew how to conduct herself with proper decorum. And speaking of fool half-brothers…

The door to her study swung open on well-oiled hinges. Corendin, the younger of their late father’s legitimate sons, stepped into Ilendra’s study, gray eyes still bleary from sleep. Still, there was no denying the concern Ilendra saw reflected in them, or the way his dusky lavender skin looked a touch paler than usual. Receiving a summons from his Matriarch at such an early hour and with so little notice had unnerved him.

And he had wasted little time tending to his appearance before answering her. He wore his ice-white hair draped over his shoulder in a loose, dismal attempt at the nine-strand nobleman’s braid that he was lucky to still be wearing. His elder brother, Vandorys, was living a life of exile in the goblin territories after refusing to accept Ilendra as his new Matriarch. Corendin’s more biddable temperament had spared him from sharing his brother’s fate.

Avalanche sniffed at the air as Corendin approached Ilendra’s desk, the beginnings of a growl rumbling in his chest. Corendin tensed at the sight of him and breathed a visible sigh of relief when Avalanche rested his head on his paws with a satisfied huff a moment later.

Corendin knelt before Ilendra, head respectfully inclined as he asked, “What is required of me, Matriarch?” His voice was low and soft but filled the room as effectively as if he had shouted all the same—almost an exact match for the way their father had spoken. The similarity never failed to send a chill down Ilendra’s spine. “I hope my actions have not displeased you.”

“They have not.” Ilendra fought to keep her exasperation at his groveling from showing as she spoke. It troubled her to see Corendin still so fearful of her a full decade after her ascension and his brother’s exile. A part of her wanted nothing more than to embrace him as the sibling he had always been to her and reassure him that she bore him no ill will. But to make such assurances was to undermine her own authority and diminish the gravity of his brother’s refusal to accept his new place in the hierarchy of Moonridge’s nobility. Surely, he understood that. “You may rise. A matter has been brought to my attention on which I would seek your counsel.” And a source of comfort in the wake of such an unexpected betrayal, though she could not say so aloud.

Corendin rose, eyebrows raised in a mix of surprise and curiosity as he regarded her with eyes that, for the first time in the last decade, were neither guarded nor wary. “Of course, Ilen—” He caught himself, pretending to clear his throat before he continued. “—Matriarch. How may I be of assistance?”

Ilendra shifted her gaze to her study’s door, shut tight behind Corendin by her frostguards the moment his feet had passed its threshold. It was thick enough to prevent her voice from reaching her frostguards’ ears, so long as she did not shout. And her frostguards were disciplined enough not to spread news of her conversations to unworthy ears even if they did overhear her. This was as close to a chance to speak freely as she could get as Moonridge’s Matriarch. “‘Ilendra’ is more than adequate in this context.”

“Very well, Ilendra.” A ghost of a smile lightened Corendin’s features. “If I may ask, why is it that this matter caused you to seek my counsel? Surely your advisors are better suited to such a task?”

Because her advisors would question why she had involved Moranthus in the matter instead of leaving it in the more trustworthy and capable hands of her frostguards. Why she had promised her father’s disgraced and unsuitable lover a pardon she had no intention of granting him as a reward for completing a mission she’d expected him to fail. And she was not yet ready to face their scorn and judgmental stares.

“Because it is, to a certain degree, a family matter.” And Corendin was the only family she had left. Her mother had not spoken to her since her father’s death, justifying herself by claiming she lacked the mental fortitude to abide the presence of the woman responsible for the death of the man she had loved. Even if that woman was her own daughter.

“I see. Has there been news of Vandorys, then?” Corendin’s expression looked almost hopeful. Ilendra chose not to hold it against him for the moment.

“No, and for that, we should count ourselves grateful. This matter concerns Moranthus.”

Corendin’s eyes drifted to the braided length of red hair still wound around Ilendra’s hand. “You’ve exiled him?”

“He chose exile for himself as the penalty for an act of treason.”

“Are you certain? That seems unlike him.” Corendin’s brow furrowed. He doubted her. Of course he did. He hadn’t shared Ilendra’s distaste for their father’s base-born lover, even going so far as to attempt to intercede on Moranthus’s behalf ten years ago, when Ilendra had sentenced him to half-exile.

It wasn’t his mother who had been disgraced by their father’s decision to set her aside for a piece of trash he’d plucked out of the gutter, after all. It wasn’t his future that had been rendered uncertain by their father’s decision to sever the bond that served as his only public means of including his illegitimate daughter in his family line. It wasn’t him who’d been forced to stage a coup against his beloved father in order to preserve his suddenly precarious political standing and forcefully lay claim to a throne that should have been freely given to him. 

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Shannon Blair is a fantasy author with a fondness for elves, goblins, and general otherworldly goodness. Their love of fiction and storytelling drove them to pursue an MFA in Creative Writing from Regis University, where a short writing exercise spiraled out of control and eventually became their first novel. When they aren’t on a quest to make the fantasy genre a more LGBTQA-friendly place, Shannon can be found inventing whimsical backstories for the colorful crafts and vendors at the craft market where they work. They live on the outskirts of the Denver metroplex with their partner and two spoiled rotten cats.

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Book Spotlight: All I want for Christmas by Will Okati

Title: All I Want for Christmas

Author: Will Okati

Cover Art: Marteeka Karland

Genres: Contemporary, New Releases, Romance, Romantic Comedy

Themes: 2nd Chance Romance, Christmas, LGBTQ+ /Gay

Book Length: Novella

Page Count: 43

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Synopsis

All James wants for Christmas is his roommate Cillian. And he might just be getting lucky this year.

Who doesn’t love the holidays? Sleigh bells racing down winding country roads. Chestnuts, open fires, Yule logs. Homemade fruitcake that’s soaked up a full bottle of brandy. James adores it all, but his long-concealed desire for his roommate Cillian runs deeper than a river of holiday booze and burns hotter than any crackling Christmas hearth. But since he’d rather not risk losing a dear friend by making any unwanted moves, he’s kept that to himself for years.

Until now. When a flight plan goes FUBAR and James doesn’t have a way home for the holidays, Cillian suggests they keep Christmas in their own way. Tree, lights, feasting, the works.

It’s tempting. Almost as tempting as Cillian himself. And when James starts to get a clue that his interest might just be reciprocated… well. That changes the entire game. Time to bring out the holly and the jolly and maybe he’ll get his man under the tree this year.

Excerpt

All I Want for Christmas

Will Okati

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2025 Will Okati

James bowed his head and thumped it gently against the windowpane. At first, he thought the quiet rattle and bang was from the shitty, landlord special, glass rattling in its frame. The much louder swearing, first frustrated and then triumphant, told him Cillian was home.

His heart rate, already nice and high, spiked a jolt or two skyward.

Cillian. His roommate. Platonic, not permanently attached, but in high demand, with a new pretty boy or big bear on his arm at least twice a month. He rattled all the windows when he had company, and James had learned to take it with a grain of salt, a snorted chuckle, and a really good pair of noise-canceling headphones -- because honestly, Cillian was one of those guys you couldn’t help but love. Some men had a gift for that. Half Irish and leaning into it, using the accent he’d gotten from his Galway mother to its full advantage. Full head of wild red curls and a day or so’s worth of stubble. Surprisingly broad shoulders, built like a Viking bard, with a cute little pillow belly when he sat down.

“Your call is very important to us. Please hold…”

James missed the rest of the robot spiel, too busy watching Cillian wander into their living room, tossing his keys in the general direction of their coffee table and his own knitted cap toward the back of the couch. No company tonight, James noticed.

Cillian grinned broadly, his teeth white and even, and mimed “phone call?” before putting his finger to his lips and plunking cheerfully down onto their couch. Yep. There was the belly. During dry spells, which happened far more often than James would like, he itched to drop down beside Cillian and rest his head on that nice little cushion to see if it was as comfortable as it looked.

“Won’t say a word,” Cillian mouthed to James. Then almost immediately, out loud: “Problems? Weren’t you supposed to be on a plane tonight?”

“Supposed to be, sure.” James gestured at his phone. “Airline says otherwise.”

“You bought your ticket weeks ago.”

“Again, airline’s website says otherwise. Trying to get an actual human on the line to convince them of that.”

Cillian winced in kind sympathy and idly rested his hand on his stomach where his Aran sweater had ridden up an inch or two. “Sucks, my friend. Wish you good luck.”

James’ fingers twitched. Their windows didn’t keep all the cold out, but Cillian ran warm. He’d be toasty as a fireplace to cuddle up with. James could rest his head or roll over to face him while they talked about a little of everything and a lot of nothing. And while he was there, possibly nose into the warm skin. Press a light kiss to Cillian’s navel. Or flip completely onto his stomach, braced on his arms, all the better to take care of the zipper on Cillian’s jeans and --

Okay, so he didn’t think about that kind of goings-on only during dry spells. More like all the time, actually.

All I want for Christmas is youuuuuu…

Click. “Your call has been disconnected. Please hang up and try again.”

James clapped a hand to his forehead and growled through gritted teeth, wondering if Androids could actually accordion up and break across the middle if you squeezed them hard enough. Either way, he was about to find out, either from travel-induced rage or sexual frustration.

“Ah, now. I know that look.”

James had closed his eyes, but he heard Cillian lever himself off the couch and clatter over before thumping a companionable hand to his back. “It’s a few days till Christmas still. You’re not going to get a human on the line during rush hour.”

“True so far.” James opened his eyes. “Suggestions?”

“Sure, easy. Call back tomorrow morning and yell at them then. Or not, because they’re humans and they’re probably at least twice as pissed at the system as you are, so be a kind fellow and go easy on the poor bastards. Figure it all out with a cool head then.”

Cillian grinned at him from inches away. He smelled of bayberries and fir and wool. “And in the meantime, I happen to know the perfect cure for a raging temper fit.”

Despite himself, a matching smile tugged at James’ lips. Cillian was just magic that way. “Don’t say drinks.”

“Drinks!” Cillian thumped him harder, then tossed an arm around James’ shoulders. “Best idea I’ve heard today. Let’s go.”

With a choice between that and listening to bubblegum caroling for another hour -- well, it wasn’t really a choice at all.

All I want for Christmas is you. He tapped Cillian’s fist with his own. “You’re on. Let’s go.”

Purchase at Changeling Press

Meet the Author

Will Okati (formerly known as Willa) has lived through a few Interesting Times, but come out the other side a little grayer, a little wiser, and ready to get writing. Still as passionate about coffee, cats, and crafts as ever, but knowing that to your own self you must be true. Also still one of the quiet ones to watch out for, but life -- like storytelling -- is always a work in progress.

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Guest Author Day with Kelli A. Wilkins: Redemption from a Dark Past

 

Love Romances? Don’t miss… Redemption from a Dark Past

A Gothic Historical Romance from Kelli A. Wilkins

www.KelliWilkins.com

 

Hi everyone,

 

Today I’m sharing a look at the making of my Gothic historical romance, Redemption from a Dark Past.

When I sit down to write an historical romance, I never know where (or when) my story will take me. I’ve written romances set in the Old West, the Minnesota wilderness, Colonial Pennsylvania, and Celtic Scotland. Redemption from a Dark Past takes place in another unique locale, the Kingdom of Hungary.

For me, the setting conjures up images of brooding castles perched on treacherous mountaintops, tiny villages, medieval stone cities, vampires, and Prince Vlad. Although the book does not take place in Transylvania specifically, this atypical location appealed to me. It seemed like the perfect place for a Gothic novel filled with secrets, danger, deception, and superstition.

Right from the start, we meet Lord Sebestyen Adrik and learn that he’s a troubled hero who has hidden himself away in his isolated castle. He’s depressed, guilt-ridden, has an unsavory reputation, and is the subject of nasty rumors spread by superstitious villagers.

The heroine, Katarina, is feisty, clever, and anything but superstitious. She dismisses tales of evil spirits and ghosts, and doesn’t have time for old wives’ tales. She’s ambitious and wants to leave her pathetic job on the goat farm for better things. When she learns that she’s about to be forced into marriage to a much older man, she jumps at the chance to be Lord Adrik’s companion—despite all the terrifying stories she has been told. Katarina’s boldness and intelligence make her the perfect person to free Sebestyen from his dark past.

When I set about creating the mysterious Lord Adrik, I wanted to make him a flawed and sympathetic hero. He has two physical ailments (one most romance heroes never have – sorry, no spoilers!) as well as several psychological scars. And as if they weren’t enough problems, he also has a reputation as a murderer (among other things). At the start of the book, he has just about given up on life and any hope of being happy. By giving Sebestyen all this “baggage” I made him vulnerable and provided him with lofty goals to reach.

As I wrote, I added layers of secrets, built suspense, and created numerous plot twists and turns. Readers follow Katarina’s adventures and are not sure what—or who—to believe. Can Magda the surly, gossiping cook be trusted? How did Lady Adrik die? Is the castle really haunted? What happened to Lord Adrik’s previous companions? Are the rumors about him true? Katarina is left alone with Sebestyen every night, should she fear for her safety? Everyone says she should!

Over the course of the book, Katarina draws Sebestyen out of his shell, and just when she thought she knew him, she uncovers a disturbing secret he’s been hiding from her. Katarina tries to make sense of it all, while following her heart.

Not everyone in this story is exactly what (or who) they seem to be, and this adds another level of mystery and intrigue to the book. Combining all these elements into a sensual, Gothic romance was a lot of fun, and I hope readers will enjoy this trip into “the Dark Lord’s lair.”

Here’s the book summary, a short excerpt, and the buy link:

Redemption from a Dark Past

Lord Sebestyen Adrik has an unsavory reputation as a madman, murderer… and worse. Lonely and searching for love, he seeks the companionship of local young women, hoping one of them will ease his torment and bring him the happiness he longs for. Katarina is his last chance—but will she fear him like all the others? Or is she the one who can lift his curse?

Desperate to avoid a forced marriage, Katarina agrees to become Lord Adrik’s latest companion, despite the rumors she has heard about him. She discovers the “Dark Lord’s” secret past and realizes he’s not the monster everyone thinks he is.

As their love blossoms, she renews his passion for life—yet they cannot escape the ghosts of the past.

When a meeting of the nobility goes horribly wrong, Sebestyen’s world unravels, and his enemies plot to destroy him. As all seems lost, a mysterious stranger arrives at the castle. Sebestyen must decide if he is a friend or a foe…and if he can find redemption in his love for Katarina, or lose her and everything else that he holds dear.

The Excerpt:

Katarina stood in the parlor doorway, clutching her skirts. The large room was lit with three candles, and firelight cast long shadows on the walls. One story about His Lordship seemed to be true; he did live in the dark. She heard a low growling noise coming from the corner. What was that? Did Lord Adrik have a vicious dog?

She stepped into the parlor and spotted a figure slumped in the throne-sized chair near the fire. A white ruffled sleeve hung over the armrest. A moment later, she realized the noise was coming from Lord Adrik. He was fast asleep and snoring.

Had she kept him waiting too long? She had eaten her fill of meat and potatoes and even tried the greens and biscuits. His Lordship hadn’t been interested in talking to her before, so why he had summoned her here?

She touched his arm. “Lord Adrik?”

He jerked awake. “What is it?”

She reeled back. “I finished eating and—”

“Your name again?”

“Katarina.” Had he forgotten about her already?

“Yes, Katarina.” He blinked up at her. “Sit here, next to me. I wish to ask you questions.”

She balanced herself on the padded arm of the chair as he instructed. Even from her perch, she couldn’t see him clearly—he was still cloaked in shadows. Why did he hide himself? Was he deformed or disfigured in some way?

“Are you afraid of me?

How should she answer? She wasn’t afraid, but she was nervous. The last thing she wanted was to make a mess out of things and displease him. “No. I’m not afraid, merely curious. I’ve never met a lord before, and I haven’t been around such finery, My Lord.” She hoped her answer would satisfy him.

“Tell me about yourself. Where do you come from? How old are you? Are you a virgin? How many lovers have you had?”

“What?” The questions surprised her, and she spun toward him. As she did, she lost her balance, toppled off the arm of the chair, and fell into Lord Adrik’s lap. She yelped and gazed up at him.

“From the expression on your face I imagine I’m not what you envisioned. What did the villagers tell you? That I had horns? That I was a troll?”

“No, nothing like that. Nobody ever mentioned your looks.”.

Lord Adrik was anything but malformed. In fact, he was the most handsome man she’d ever seen. His black wavy hair hung to his ruffled white collar, his clean-shaven face was long and lean, and his green eyes sparkled in the firelight.

“Do you wish a glass of wine or brandy? It may settle your nerves.”

“No, Your Lordship. My… my… nerves are fine,” she stammered.

“For now,” he said, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pinning her close to him. “But in a little while you may wish you had a healthy dose of liquor in you. It would dull the torment of being sacrificed to the Dark Gods.”

What did he mean by that?

* * *

Order Redemption from a Dark Past and read reviews here: https://www.kelliwilkins.com/redemption-from-a-dark-past

I hope you enjoyed this inside look at the making of Redemption from a Dark Past. I welcome comments and questions from readers. Be sure to follow my blog for the latest updates and visit me on social media!

Happy Reading,                                                   

Kelli A. Wilkins

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Kelli A. Wilkins is an award-winning author who has published more than 100 short stories, 24 romance novels, and 8 mystery/horror ebooks. Her romances span many genres and settings, and she likes to scare readers with her horror and mystery stories.

Her twenty-fourth romance, For Love’s Sake, an epic historical/fantasy romantic adventure, was published in January 2025.

In 2024, she released Surreal Escapes, a collection of 7 speculative/spooky stories. Anything can—and does—happen in this anthology.

Kelli also released her fourth gay romance, A Thousand Summer Secrets, in 2024. This tender contemporary romance takes place over a summer weekend, where two friends reconnect while seeking love and acceptance.

She published The Route 9 Killer, a mystery/thriller set in Central NJ, in 2023. Look for a follow-up story coming in 2026!

Follow Kelli on her Facebook author page: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorKelliWilkins and visit her website www.KelliWilkins.com for a full title list and social media links.