Release Blitz & Giveaway: Three Shades Called Horace

 

Three ghosts.

One psychic.

Zero patience for corporate greed.

A hilarious, fast-paced romp through the supernatural underbelly of the Isle of Man!

Three Shades Called Horace

Witchery, Trickery, Love & Serendipity

by Jinx James

Genre: Humorous Paranormal Thriller

 

"delightfully twisted...offbeat supernatural romp" Amazon Review ★★★★★

"A unique and hilarious story with a lot of twists and awesome revenge. I loved the ending!" Amazon Review ★★★★★

They have the magic, the visions, and the afterlife on their side. But will it be enough to stop an ROI Reaper of the airwaves from hostilely taking over their dream?

Their "Super Moon Show" is the viral hit of the year. Too bad the stars are all dead.

Pansy Peonie is a psychic with a problem. Actually, three problems, and they’re all called Horace. As the host of the world’s craziest paranormal livestream, she spends her nights herding her team of opinionated ghosts and her days trying to keep her witch mother from accidentally summoning something worse.

But when you’re the top-rated supernatural show on the internet, you don't just attract spirits—you attract sharks.

Enter Rollo Mansell: a ruthless media mogul who doesn't care about the afterlife unless he can monetise it. He wants the show. He wants the ghosts. And he’s not above using a little corporate necromancy to get what he wants.

Now, Pansy is caught in a high-stakes tug-of-war between the living and the dead. To save her show—and her skin—she’ll have to outmanoeuvre a billionaire, survive a voodoo conspiracy, and figure out if Rollo’s assistant, Max, is actually on her side.

Featuring a new cover and a tighter, more suspenseful edit, this revised edition of Three Shades Called Horace will keep you on the edge of your seat, while laughing uncontrollably.

If you love fast-paced paranormal suspense with sharp wit, mysterious secrets, and un

forgettable characters, dive into the newly polished edition of Three Shades Called Horace ]

 

**Celebrate the relaunch and get it FREE until Oct 3rd!!**

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Guest Post with Jinx James:

THE SETTING FOR MY BOOK:

 

One of my favourite authors, Lawrence Durrell, wrote a series of novels set in the Greek Islands.  In one, he talks about an odd condition called Islomania. Some people find being on islands irresistible. As he put it, it “fills them with an indescribable intoxication.”

Confession time. I’ve always been one of those people.

Yes, I’ve spent a lot of time on quite a lot of islands too; from Corfu to Lord Howe Island to Anguilla, San Andrés and Puerto Rico plus a good few in between. And to round it off, now I even live on an Australian island called Tasmania! You’ve probably already spotted the hidden “mania” bit - and that brings us quite neatly to my Jinx James book entitled, THREE SHADES CALLED HORACE: Witchery, Trickery, Love & Serendipity.

 

It’s a paranormal, nutty-comedy crime thriller that mostly takes place on the Isle of Man, where (sorry) I also spent a bit of time in my misguided youth. It’s the kind of place where every time you cross the Fairy Bridge you have to say hello to the fairies. You wouldn’t dare not to acknowledge them! I met a psychic there too. The IOM is and always has been one of those fascinating super-witchy places. It’s set in the middle of the Irish Sea, where lots of weird things still always seem to keep on happening.

 

In my story, there’s a white witch, Fenella, and her daughter, Pansy, a medium (our heroine).

But first you’ll meet our Hero, Max, our villain, Rollo, and a nutty cast, including the stars of our show, the THREE SHADES CALLED HORACE.

Here’s just a taste of the opening scene, set in London:

 

“Max is in the chauffeur-driven vintage Bentley car of his autocratic boss, media mogul Rollo.

          ‘Shades did you say?’ says Rollo. ‘What the hell are they?’

Max switches neatly over to his ice-cool “can-do” mode. His boss always likes that.

‘Won’t be a sec sir, I’ll just verify the exact definition of ‘Shades’ for you.’ he says, fiddling with his phone.

‘Right. Here we are, Mr Mansell:

‘Shades - Dead people who inhabit the afterlife.’

Max reads this out, followed by the explanatory text, in a flat, colourless GPS-style voice.

‘These undead beings can sometimes be contacted and communicated with by Seers/Psychics/Mediums. Legend has it that under certain circumstances, Shades can even be brought back to life again - but only for very limited time periods.’

Rollo weighs all this up with an air of bored disbelief.

‘Dead people coming back to life again… and wandering around?’ he says, sounding and looking bewildered. ‘Has it seriously come to this, Max? You’re telling me that people genuinely want to watch this rubbish on TV?’

‘Yes, sir ... and according to Julian, sir, tens… perhaps even hundreds of millions of them!’”

 

Three Shades Called Horace has one of my favourite themes, characters taking on corporate crime and greed, and I do it the way I see life – dark humour is my weapon of choice.

Revised and re-paced for maximum suspense and a whammer of a finish! This New Edition includes an exclusive link to claim the story's "vanished chapters" as a free bonus download.

 

I really hope you’ll like it.

 

All the best,

Jinx 

    Over on the ever-lovely Isle of Man, it’s turned out to be the most sensational evening. The Three Shades, Horace Flaccus, Horace Walpole and Horace Silver are already there, hovering in the twilight, when PP and Fenella finally arrive on Pansy’s motorbike. They’re late as usual, but The Three Shades don’t seem to mind. After all, they do have all the time in the world, don’t they?

The team is getting together at dusk, at an ancient place where they like to meet when the weather’s nice. It’s in the middle of the most beautiful circle of prehistoric standing stones on the island’s southwest. This mystical place is situated on a remote hillside, one side of which looks across to the mountains and the other down towards the sea.

Hearing the vroom of a hot, racing motorbike heading up the hill towards them, the three ghosts turn their heads expectantly. Pansy, aka PP, parks behind the largest of the enormous stones.

She appears first, walking briskly towards the Three Shades, unbuckling, lifting her helmet off and shaking out her hair. Behind her, Fenella, her older, White witch partner, picks her way over the rough ground.

‘We just have to tell all you Horaces straight away!’ says Pansy, getting excited now. ‘Barrett says the ratings for the last show were amazing!’ she gushes, adding, ‘he even told us they were “Earth-shattering!” she grins.

‘Er, would it be possible for you to explain to us what exactly that means, Ma’am?’ asks the ever-polite Walpole.

 ‘What it means, gentlemen,’ says PP, grinning, ‘is that not only are we already getting a huge worldwide audience, but it’s growing bigger and bigger with every show!’

‘And after the last one,’ Fenella butts in excitedly, ‘we’ve had so many people trying to sign up that Barrett has been overwhelmed. His computers and the social media department can’t cope. He’s having to put on more people every day to handle it!’

‘Yes, but, um, what precisely does all of this mean, Ms Pansy?’ asks Flaccus.

‘Look, I’m sure we explained it to you before, Horace. Don’t you remember? The viewers of our Supermoon show all over the world are also a part of the show, right? They’re active participants with their “Cozmics”, says Pansy.

‘Well, yes, my dear, you certainly did,’ said Flaccus, with that lovely smile of his. ‘But I’m afraid that was the part I could never quite understand,’ confesses the Roman Horace. ‘I’m so sorry,’ he adds, looking seriously embarrassed now.

‘Not to worry at all, Horace,’ says Pansy gently. Flaccus has always been her favourite, even though she always enjoys teasing him.

‘Did you know that on the next show,’ she says, ‘the Supermoon is going to be the closest it’s been to the Earth for sixty-nine years! Yes! And that means that if we can add the viewers’ Cozmics together with all of that extra Moon energy,’ she tells them excitedly, making a fingers-crossed sign.

At that point, Pansy pauses, grins, and says, ‘Well, just try to imagine the power involved!’

‘The technical guys even think we might have enough energy,’ says Fenella, ‘to maybe bring you back in full colour… and all of you at the same time!’

‘All of us in colour…  and at the same time?’ says Horace Walpole, getting really excited himself now.

‘Are you sure?’ says Horace Silver, ‘In full colour?’

‘Absolutely!’ says the by-now almost gushing Fenella! ‘Bye-bye to all that fuzzy black and white stuff, eh?’

They can all feel the excitement rippling the air between them. The psychic, the witch, and the three Horaces gathered in the magic circle of prehistoric standing stones.

‘It’s called “collective mental focus”,’ says PP. ‘And that means that if it all works out, you three guys will materialise as psychic energy through me!’

‘And that’d be sooo cool, baby! Right?’ smiles jazzman Horace Silver.

Fenella grins again and nods; ‘But, how about this? If we can get enough Cozmics from the global audience, all three of you Shades may even seem to fully come back to life for a while!’

This time, all three of them just stand there, totally gobsmacked!

‘Now, nobody is certain exactly what will happen,’ says Fel, ‘but whaddya reckon, gentlemen? Let’s give it a go, eh?’ she gushes.

By now, they’re all totally in love with the idea… and it shows.

‘I’m afraid I still don’t quite understand it,’ Flaccus says to her, almost flapping his toga with excitement, ‘but wouldn’t it be wonderful if it did actually happen? Especially for me after two thousand years in the shade!’

‘Hey, you could even really “Seize the day!” says Pansy!

 

* * *

“It is charming to totter into vogue.”

Horace Walpole

1717-1797

 ⚛︎ ⚛︎ ⚛

**FREEBIE ALERT!!**

To celebrate the relaunch of Three Shades Called Horace, the author is having an exclusive giveaway of the supernatural short story The House on Via Magliocco!

The House on Via Magliocco

by Jinx James

Genre: Supernatural Dark Fantasy

 

To be beautiful forever. Would you turn down that offer?

 

A mesmerizing one-hour dark fantasy short read.

Silvia is a top fashion model who lives for the spotlight, but the camera's love is fleeting. When she’s offered a mysterious assignment at the secluded House on Via Magliocco, it feels like the ultimate canvas for her creativity and passion for dance.

But inspiration quickly twists into a feverish obsession.

As the mansion's haunting music bleeds from her dreams into her waking life, Silvia realizes she hasn't just accepted a job—she has stepped into a beautiful trap. The house demands a performance, the wealthy owner demands perfection, and the price of eternal beauty might just be her soul.

Get this exclusive supernatural short story delivered directly to your inbox.

 

Get it FREE Here!

Bestselling dark humor fiction author Jinx James was born in the UK and lives in Australia. He has worked in music and advertising, and has always been fascinated by charisma, satire, and what makes people laugh He used to write comedy sketches for a well-known Australian TV and film star, but that was after he was in the music game, as a performer. Later came writing and producing music for advertising, and for big events like the Sydney Olympics. All that time he was trying his hand at writing fiction, mostly humorous. Eventually it became his new way of living while having fun. He writes under two author names. As Jinx James his dark humor draws on his life in show business. As dog lover Kit James, his Mutt to Megastar series features Elliott, a rescue dog who becomes a TV star.

 

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Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

Enter the Three Shades Called Horace Giveaway Here

Book Teaser Tour Stop: Taken by the Angel of Death by Megan Slayer

 

(Taken 14)

Fantasy Romance

Date Published: October 2, 2026

Publisher: ChangelingPress

One touch sends her victims to hell. But he’s already been there. Would not recommend. 0 stars.

Loren knows her job. She’s an angel of death. When she allows herself to be seen, there are no survivors. She drives too fast, has no filter, and bows to no man. Then she sees a vampire crumpled on the ground. It’s not his time. She can’t leave him to die, but she won’t get involved with him. Too bad he’s cute.

Michel never wanted to be turned. Never wanted to offer his services. Terminal illness? You’re going to perish anyway? Want to do it on your terms? Then he can help. It’s part of his death wish. But he can’t die. When he finds himself in the presence of the most beautiful, moodiest woman he’s ever seen, he can’t forget her. But she won’t touch him. He makes it his mission to get to know and melt her defenses so they can both have their heart’s delight.

If nothing else, he’ll die trying.

She kills. He can’t die. They shouldn’t work, but what if they did and the results are fire?

Excerpt

Copyright ©2026 Megan Slayer

You are to report to Beelzebub immediately, a voice said in her head. Loren scrubbed both hands over her face. She hated when he called her. He never wanted anything good. Someone had to die. Always.

She rolled her shoulders, then waggled her head to stretch her neck before she ambled into the fiery man’s office.

“You called, Bubsy Baby?” she asked. She never referred to him by his preferred name. It just didn’t suit him. Or maybe it was to annoy him that she wouldn’t use the name he preferred.

“You know my name,” he snapped.

“Look up the number?” She folded her arms and sighed. “You’re not exactly menacing or scary behind that desk. You’re like a red-tinged middle management clown.”

His eyes blazed and he snarled. Flames licked his horns. He drummed his fingers on the desk. “Someone has to be in charge.”

“And you do it so well.” She sighed again. “What do you want? You only call when you want something.”

“You have a job to do.” He pointed to the screen behind him. “You have three, actually.”

“We’re still using screens? Isn’t that so last century?” She read the information and filed it away in her mind. She could be counted on to complete her mission without fail or issue.

“Why are you such a pain in my ass?” he asked. His glare deepened and he gritted his teeth. “You can’t just go along.”

“No, I can’t.” She shifted her weight from her left foot to her right. “I have to be your torture because you were a shit when you still had your wings. I’m your punishment.” She didn’t care that she gave him such grief.

“Just bring me the souls I deserve.”

“You don’t deserve anything,” she replied. “But it’s my job.”

“If I could find someone else and give you a different one, I’d do it.”

“You love me,” she snapped, knowing full well he didn’t care for her at all. “I’ve got the orders.” She turned on her heel and strode back out of his office. If he were removed from his post tomorrow, she’d be just fine. Hell, she’d be happier.

“Don’t you dare leave this office until I give you permission,” Beelzebub shouted. “Wait, I haven’t told you where your targets are. You don’t even know where you’re going.”

“I don’t?” she said over her shoulder. “Eerie, it would appear.” She didn’t turn around but kept going. She wasn’t stopping until she got out of his disgusting palace. No one should have to look at so much death and suffering.

The display of bodies and souls in distress always churned her stomach. Sure, the humans could be dicks to each other.

She flicked her hand and opened the portal to the roughest bar in Eerie. Few beings were strong enough to withstand a night at Just One More. If there wasn’t a fight in progress, there was one about to start. Bottles were routinely thrown at anyone for just about any reason. There weren’t any waitstaff. Just three vampires who tended the bar. They barely spoke but expected high tips. She nodded to Stacy, the head vampire, then closed the portal and headed out to the cooler air of the night.

The smattering of lights on the building flickered. The parking lot hadn’t been paved in years and the potholes could prove dangerous for anyone under the influence. Sweat practically poured from the interior and the sound of laughter could be heard for a good mile from the place.

A hulking figure shielded her from the glare of the colored lights. “Hi, Jack. Get out of my way.” She’d been involved with him for a whole month and he thought he owned her. The fool. She barely let anyone get close to her. Jack had been a decent roll in the sheets, but he wasn’t relationship material.

“You’re here.” Jack Robideaux stood in her path. “Who are you here to collect?”

“Not you.”

“Anyone here?” Jack asked.

“Nope.” She sidestepped him. She didn’t feel like having this conversation. She kept going until she reached the parking lot where she’d left her car, hoping no one had keyed it while she’d been gone. The vehicle wasn’t anything to look at -- a worn ‘80 Mustang with chipped paint, a woefully underpowered engine and nearly bald tires, but the old girl got her where she needed to go. She unlocked the car and slid behind the wheel.

A bottle flew over the hood and broke on the fence, sending shards of glass through the air.

She growled, then flicked her fingers, directing the glass back to the guy who’d tossed the object in the first place.

“Sorry, Loren,” he called. “Fuck, that hurt.”

“You had it coming,” she said, then drove out of the lot. Fucker needed to watch where in the Hell he was throwing things. She sent rocks flying as she pulled onto the main road.

According to her list, she was headed to the Trollville area of Eerie. The trolls never bothered her, but if it was this one’s time to go, then she couldn’t stop fate. Atropos wasn’t terribly flexible when the end of the ribbon came. The being was expected to accept her determination.

But these were chosen by Bubsy. She snorted to herself. He had to know how much it delighted her to see him squirm when she called him by that name. Call it a perverse power play. She didn’t care. It gave her a minute to best him and worked every time.

She stopped by the crossing and waited. According to the screen, this troll was meant to pass while in the middle of the street. She hated this part. Why did beings have to be so violent to each other? She fiddled with the black diamond ring she always wore.

She noticed the male and female walking toward the road. The headlights of a car shone in the distance. That had to be how he died. Loren remained in her silent vehicle and waited. The man staggered and wobbled into the woman. She laughed and sagged into him.

Loren rolled her eyes. They were going to cause an accident because they were drunk. Cute. She could shout at them and get the pair out of the road, but that’d only piss off Bubsy and string her job out. Atropos would be pissed with her, too.

Not today.

The pair lazed out to the middle of the road. The woman dropped her purse. When she bent to pick it up, the car seemed to come out of nowhere. The sound of screeching tires, the scent of burnt rubber and the shriek of breaking glass filled the air. The woman’s scream could probably be heard outside of Eerie.

“Showtime,” Loren muttered. She left the car and made her way to the pair. The woman, her face covered in blood and her hair matted against the top of her head, reached for Loren.

“Help us,” the woman begged. “Call someone.”

“They’ve been called.” Loren shrugged, extending her black wings. Her leather jacket crinkled and creaked, and her boots thudded on the asphalt. “I should say I’m sorry.” But she wasn’t. She touched the man, who’d stopped breathing not more than thirty seconds after the car hit him.

“Go home,” Loren whispered. “Time for your ultimate reward.” She left her index print on his head, sending his soul to the depths of Hell. He dissipated into dust and his body was gone.

The woman screamed. “You killed him.” She swatted at Loren but missed. “You destroyed him.”

“It was his time,” Loren said and stood. She flexed her wings before tucking them away. “Now you’ll have to live with the guilt and anger for what happened. You’ll have to accept that you’ve done this. He’ll never come back.”

“Bring him back,” she said and lunged forward, grasping the front of Loren’s jacket. “He wasn’t supposed to die. I was. I’m the one who cheated. He was just along for the ride.”

Fuck. She hadn’t thought the drunken woman would’ve been so strong or fast. She swatted her away, then stepped back. “Talk to the devil. Your boyfriend is in his hands now.”

“Boyfriend?” She flopped backward onto her ass and her matted hair fell in her eyes. “He was my john.”

“Now he’s your gone.” Loren straightened her jacket and left the scene, almost as if nothing had happened.

One down, two to go…

Loren cleaned the blood from her hands once she settled behind the wheel of her car. She didn’t bother to watch the woman or call for help. That wasn’t her job. Besides, what would she say? The Angel of Death is calling and would like an ambulance to be sent to the corner of Oak and Elm? Yeah, that wouldn’t do much good. No one would believe her.

She drove away, leaving the scene. In the regular world, she’d be in trouble for fleeing the site of an accident. But no one saw her, save for the drunken woman and no one would believe her, either. They’d think Loren was a figment of her sloshy mind.

Loren flexed her fingers on the steering wheel. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had a conversation with someone who wasn’t at Just One More. Certainly not with someone who wanted to speak to her.

Not that she wanted to have deep discussions with anyone. Most people annoyed her. She stopped at the traffic light and a thought occurred to her. If I’m not careful and don’t rein in my sarcastic attitude, I’ll turn into Bubsy.

She gagged.

No one is as insufferable as Bubsy.

She drove for two hours before reaching her next destination near Pittsburgh. She spied a man crossing the dark street. He had his hands stuffed in his pockets and his head down. His gait was quick, like he was hurrying away from someone. She kept watching. This guy wasn’t on her list. Was he perishing tonight? This wasn’t exactly a great area and people did die here.

Another being rushed up to the man. Something glinted. A knife? She wasn’t going to be a witness to this. Loren parked and surged from her vehicle. She lunged between the men, pushing the first one out of the way.

About the Author

Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary and paranormal to LGBTQ and white hot themes. No matter what the length, her works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s been nominated at the LRC for Best Author, Best Contemporary, Best Ménage, Best BDSM and Best Anthology. Her books have made it to the bestseller lists on various e-tailer sites.

When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but football is her sport of choice. She’s an active member of the Friends of the Keystone-LaGrange Public library.

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Save 15% off any order at ChangelingPress.com with code RABT15

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Book Review: The Vampire in the Potting Shed by Hailey Edwards

 

When a wolf princess finds a bleeding vampire in her potting shed, she has no idea her world is about to get blown up as secrets and revelations come out that rock her world.

The Vampire in the Potting Shed by Hailey Edwards

Series: Groom and Doom Book 1

Paranormal/Urban Fantasy novella

Release date: July 16th, 2025

Find at Amazon

My Rating for The Vampire in the Potting Shed: 3.5 Stars

Ana Satori grew up knowing she couldn't shapeshift into a werewolf and as the daughter of the Alpha, she was targeted by bullying and more from her peers. Now running a pet boarding and grooming business, she is not prepared for the bleeding vampire in her potting shed, her overprotective father and clan trying to hide her away from harm and now secrets are blowing up her world. With the new alpha trying to claim Ana and her town, Ana has a choice to make: stand and fight for her life or run to hide behind her father's back. 

My Review of The Vampire in the Potting Shed:

The Vampire in the Potting Shed by Hailey Edwards is fun, action packed and filled with characters that just seem to explode off the pages and into your living room. Hailey Edwards has a way with creating characters that are life-like, likable and more with each of her books I have read of her's. I love this author's books and with each page in The Vampire in the Potting Shed, I was drawn into Ana's world filled with an overprotective parent, wolves that seem to try to drive her bonkers and secondary characters that want me to know more about them. Her world building is so good. I loved how vibrant this world of Groom & Doom is with this first book in the series. I really want to know more about it as well as all the characters we got introduced to.

Ana Satori is what's called a latent person, one who can't shift into a wolf but has the heightened senses and strength of the wolves. But her world is rocked when she finds out there are secrets being kept from her that put her in harm's way as well as tosses a bomb into her otherwise simple life. I love Ana. She is fiesty, determined and such a sweetheart until she finds herself backed into a corner and then all bets are off. The characters are well written and multidimensional. I really loved some of the secondary characters alot and want to know more about them.

The Vampire in the Potting Shed is a shorter novella so be warned if you are expecting a full length novel. This is aimed, I believe, for a quick read. Hailey Edwards does a great job introducing her MC's and the cast of the Groom and Doom series. Just get ready to grab book 2 right away as book one here leaves a slight cliffhanger and left me with more questions than answers.

This is an objective review and not an endorsement

Groom and Doom Series:

Book 1: The Vampire in the Potting Shed

Book 2: The Goblin in the Sink Drain

Book 3: The Mermaid in the Shot Glass

Book 4: The Pixie in the Pickle Jar

Booke 5: The Ghost in the Pole Barn

Discover Salva Me by Autumn Montague Today!

Title: Salva Me

Author: Autumn Montague

Cover Art: Bryan Keller

Genres: Action Adventure, Mystery /Suspense /Intrigue, New Releases, Paranormal, Romance

Themes: Capture Fantasy, Dark Romance, Historical (Dark Ages, Regency, Victorian/Gaslamp & Edwardian), LGBTQ+ Gay, Vampires

Series: Blood Sworn (#1)

Book Length: Novel

Page Count: 196

Add to Goodreads

Synopsis

England, 1816. A nosferatu, a rogue vampire, hunts unchecked through Sussex. Jeremy Takeshi Colbourne is honor-bound by ancestral duty to find and destroy such madmen. Foremost among the vampires of England, he must find a way to ensure the safety of the English citizens and the vampires that live among them.

Then Jeremy and his blood-host Morgan Holland discover a brutally savaged girl. With this latest victim of the nosferatu, Jeremy realizes the time has come to make Morgan aware of the Colbourne responsibilities. But the situation could not have come at a worse time.

For years, Morgan has served as Jeremy's blood-host. Though Morgan adheres faithfully to his Contracted terms, he refuses to surrender to the sexual seduction that completes each feeding. He yields neither his body nor his heart, though Jeremy yearns for both.

As the nosferatu's atrocities grow, Jeremy must ask everything of Morgan to gain the strength needed to fight the ravening monster. Will Morgan relent and give up body and heart to help Jeremy defeat their enemy, or will the battle destroy them both?

Excerpt

Salva Me (Blood Sworn 1)

Autumn Montague

All rights reserved.

Copyright ©2026 Autumn Montague

Jeremy cursed at the knock on the oaken door of his study. Morgan had attempted to corner him several times today. Pure cowardice had driven Jeremy to take refuge here, a place his loyal Host rarely intruded on, since it held the Buddhist shrine housing his mother’s mortuary tablet. He glanced at the portrait standing behind the black stone, wishing for a bit of Keiko Yamakawa’s legendary strength.

Evading Morgan had taken a toll on Jeremy. The Contracted day for his feeding had come and gone. Today marked two full weeks since Morgan had wrenched himself from Jeremy’s grasp, nearly bleeding to death before Jeremy could administer the requisite clotting agent. The sight of Morgan’s injuries had seared itself into Jeremy’s mind, rendering him unwilling to risk another such incident.

It almost made him wish to return to Japan, despite the difficulties involved. Obtaining the necessary dispensation from the Tokugawa Shogunate had been hard enough when he left. Lord Matsumae had done what he could, but it had taken his mother’s personal attendance on Emperor Kōkaku and an appropriate gift to Tokugawa Ikeharu to get it done. Going back would be far worse, despite his home’s exemption from the Sakoku Edict. Even so, he was tempted. If only to avoid what he now faced.

The knock came again, harder than before, followed immediately by the entrance of Morgan Holland. “Excuse me, Lord Colbourne. While I am always loath to disturb you in your sanctum, you cannot avoid me forever.” Exasperation filled Morgan’s voice, underscored by heavy concern.

Jeremy risked a glance at his Host, unwilling to see but drawn nonetheless. The wounds on Morgan’s neck had healed; his skin flushed a healthy hue. Unlike usual feedings, the last one had left two ragged scars, visible reminders of Jeremy’s lack of control. Even now, the remnants of Morgan’s refusal echoed in his mind, invading his dreams.

“I am not convinced you are well enough to support a feeding, Holland,” he hedged, though his Host showed no lingering signs of ill effects. “Your wounds have barely healed.”

Morgan sighed. “I understand your reluctance after the debacle last time, but you cannot risk your health or your sanity by some idiotic attempt at endurance. I am prepared to meet my Contracted terms without qualms.”

“So you say. Nonetheless, your refusal made quite an impression. I’d prefer not to endure that again so soon.”

Morgan’s cheeks heated with angry embarrassment. “Then break Contract, my lord, and find someone more willing to accommodate all of your needs. Or go back to Japan.”

The slap of the words felt like a further refusal. Jeremy straightened in his chair, denying the spike of pain, determined to retain his rationality. Fear was anathema to the Barons of Colbourne and to the Yamakawa family. Being afraid to feed on his Contracted Host shamed both houses. He stood, feeling the weakness of flesh from self-deprivation.

“After twelve years? I’d rather not, thank you. You’re all I need. Or want.” Jeremy considered the irony of his irrational thoughts mere moments before. “It is far harder to return than to leave,” he added. “While my home in Matsumae is exempt from the Sakoku Edict, only my status as a noble Chi no Kami allowed me to leave in the first place. I have no wish to reverse the process any time soon.”

Morgan considered for a moment and then gave him the ghost of a smile. “Then please stop delaying the inevitable. Despite what happened before, I refuse to watch you kill yourself, however noble your ancestors may have found the practice. It would render all my efforts worthless.”

“Such things are not reserved for my ancestors,” Jeremy growled. “If I chose seppuku, who would be my second? You’d still have to watch me die.”

“At least it would not be this slow death you’re attempting now.”

Trust Morgan to know him well enough to hit so close to the truth of the matter. Jeremy allowed silence to reign for a moment and then gave a grudging chuckle. “No quarter, I see. You win, Holland. Give me two hours, and I’ll meet you in the sanguis cubiculum.”

Two hours would give Jeremy sufficient time to contact William Carter. After this long, the sexual urges would be difficult to suppress, but he could not afford another mistake like the last time.

Morgan nodded to him. “Two hours, then, Lord Colbourne. I will be ready.”

Purchase at Changeling Press

Meet the Author

Autumn grew up loving history, mythology, and all things Japanese, not necessarily in that order. This eclectic love affair has bled over into her writing, and her stories are always well spiced with the taste of Japan, strange mythological beasties, or the lords and ladies of the ton. Sometimes all three, leading to dark desires and forbidden loves. And after all, dangerous passions should lead to uninhibited love.

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Book Tour Stop: Summer and Shadows by Kathryne Lentes

Title: Summer and Shadows

Series: The Pact of the Veil, Book Two

Author: Kathryne Lentes

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 08/18/2026

Heat Level: 2 - Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 35900

Genre: Paranormal, Genre/lit, paranormal, pansexual, trans, poly, shifter, elves, witch, magic, conspiracy

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Description

Sah has gone through a lot in three years. I mean how often does a person find out their sister disappeared, meet a hot detective, get bitten by a werewolf, and discover they are part of a legacy of shape shifters? She thought her life would calm down and she could enjoy a summer vacation in LA. But now she is mixed up with the Fae and a magical serial killer. To survive she must find new allies and embrace her new self without reservation.

Excerpt

Summer and Shadows

Kathryne Lentes © 2026

All Rights Reserved

There are real monsters in the world. I know because I am one of them. After three years, I was still trying to get my head around that fact, even though I was getting ready to attend a convention full of them. The Menagerie, as they called themselves, were a group of shapeshifters who hid from the world. Still, since their discovery was always a dangerous possibility, they had created an entire intellectual property called the Façade to coax people into their world. It started as a game, and with my introduction, they had added novels to the mix. Now, I was traveling to California to try to sell my recent bestseller to a movie studio. I wondered if Dominique would ever forgive me if a werewolf novel of mine made it to the Cineplex before she did.

She didn’t speak up. She was the main character in my first book series and the voice in my head when I was doing something I knew, in most plots, would end with me dead. We’d had a really good run, and her adventures had brought me my first real success, but after most of the changes I had gone through, I had started a new urban fantasy series. It was almost autobiographical, not that anyone would ever believe it.

I mean how often does a person find out their sister disappeared, meet a hot detective, get bitten by a werewolf, find said sister, lose said sister and hot (now maybe new girlfriend?) detective, and blackmail an entire group of supernatural entities to get the pair of them back. Not to mention discover you are part of a legacy of shapeshifters and can now channel a snow leopard totem. And finish up by trying try to live happily ever after only to have to engage in a death match with a psychopathic grudge-bearing werewolf leader.

It was hard for me to believe, and I had lived through it—even if just barely. I took a deep breath and told myself to get out of bed. I don’t know why I was so focused on my past today when the future seemed so promising.

It was probably because Val was out of the house. This was the first big trip I was going to make without her, and I missed her. She was one of the only people I had ever met who accepted me for being the giant pansexual polyamorous mess of a partner I was. I looked in the closet, trying to decide on a dress to pack in my luggage. I was much more comfortable in jeans and a band T-shirt than I was in Chanel, no matter what my budget told me I could afford. I needed something more formal if I was going to meet with a movie producer. Great, now I was beginning to miss my sister Nisha. She was the clothes horse of the family and would not only have brought me six of her dresses but also tried to do my hair and makeup before I left. She was out in Montana with a pack of werewolves. My life was not the only one that had changed a lot in the last couple of years.

As I contemplated which outfit I hated the least, my phone started vibrating in my pocket. I pulled it out and saw it was Val.

“Hey, babe, were your ears burning? I was just thinking of you.”

“Well, I did have some feelings in certain parts of my body, but not my ears.”

“Don’t be a tease when you are getting on a plane and going to be gone for a month.”

“Hey, don’t complain. It’s your fault I am going out of town. I can’t believe I am going to be guarding the Speaker at a meeting of the Council of the Pact. I liked my life as a regular detective. Now, I spend most of my day standing around waiting for something to happen.”

“I didn’t tell them to elevate you.”

“Yeah, but since you stole their book of secrets, no one believes me when I say I don’t know anything.”

“Really, but you run out of the room with your hands over your ears, yelling, no, no, no, every time I try to tell you something juicy.”

“Yeah, but it’s guilt by association.”

“You do remember I stole that book to save your ass, right.” Before she could respond, I added, “I mean, it’s a lovely ass that is totally worth saving.” I wanted to make sure she knew I was joshing.

“Yeah, I remember.” She chuckled.

“You know you could quit all those jobs. I make enough; you don’t have to work.”

“I am not going to be a kept woman. I like my job, and I feel there need to be some cops who understand what it is like being an outsider on the force.”

“That reminds me, I was wondering how you are getting time off from the Saint Louis PD for a month.”

“I am on a special undercover assignment with the feds.”

“You know, sometimes I love being part of the Menagerie, and sometimes it scares the fuck out of me. They had an actual FBI agent send a request for you to be excused from work.”

“Yeah…” She let out a slow breath.

“I have to ask you. Are you sure it’s okay if I go on some dates while you are out of the country? I just thought it might be simpler if the first couple were in a different city.”

“Listen, I know your previous partners freaked out every time you mentioned something even in the neighborhood of polyamory, but I am cool with it as long as you keep me in the loop of what you are doing. You can get out there and start figuring out who you are. We will conduct regular check-ins to ensure this works for everyone. So, take the opportunity to have some fun before I come back, and your number one relationship is with Google Calendar.”

“You are the best. Thank you. You were totally worth almost getting killed by a werewolf for.” I heard Val chuckle. We certainly had an interesting “meet cute.”

“Hun, I am getting on the plane, and from here on in, I have to go radio silent. I just wanted to let you know I love you and am going to miss you.”

“Same to you and more of it.”

“Bye.”

“Bye.”

I shoved my phone into my back pocket, and now I was even lonelier. The first thing that popped into my head was chocolate, so I headed toward the kitchen.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Kathryne Lentes has been writing stories as long as she could hold a pen in her hand. She is a transwoman who, when not working on her own projects, operates Paper Phoenix Ink, a blog showcasing queer creators. She is currently living in Saint Louis with her wife, two cats, and a pile of science fiction and fantasy books.

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New Release Tour Stop: Silver Spider by Lena Austin

   

Title: Silver Spider

Author: Lena Austin

Cover Art: Marteeka Karland

Publisher: Changeling Press

Release Date: June 5, 2026

Genres: Action Adventure, Mystery /Suspense /Intrigue, New Releases, Paranormal, Romance

Themes: 2nd Chance Romance, Age Gap (Older Woman), Dark Romance, Elves /Dragons /Magical Creatures, LGBTQ+ Bisexual /Nonbinary /Transgender, Murder Mystery, Second Edition, Vampires, Voyeurism & Exhibitionism, Wolf Shifters & Werewolves

Book Length: Novel

Page Count: 122

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Synopsis

The secretive Duke of Aberystwyth has invited Madge Majesty to a murder mystery party, but he's the first victim!

Madge is a harpy, mystery writer, and amateur sleuth with a nose for murder. At her side is her faithful chauffeur, Hayden, who is a telekinetic ex-thief -- and a confirmed bachelor.

Now it's up to Madge to solve the whodunit. Her suspects are a motley assortment of inverts and very nervous heterosexuals, all of whom have more than just their sexual foibles to hide. Is it the cross-dressing vampire, the packless werewolf, the voyeuristic doctor, the gargoyle majordomo, or the promiscuous man who seems bent on getting everyone into his bed, including Hayden?

Excerpt

Silver Spider
Second Edition
Lena Austin
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2026 Lena Austin

"Madame?"

Madge Majesty looked up from her study of the papers spread on her lap and across the seat of her beloved 1912 Rolls Royce Silver Ghost Limousine. "Yes, Hayden?"

"Madame, Dunraven Castle is but perhaps half an hour away. You requested a warning." Hayden had lasted years longer than any of her other drivers, so he knew he was liked, but wasn't fool enough to take advantage of that knowledge. Harpies were not creatures to take lightly.

"Hmm. So I did." She gathered up her papers and stuffed them into her leather case. Wearily, she pulled on the gloves she'd laid to the side and put on the ridiculously large hat with an immense array of feathers decorating it. "There. I'm properly adorned." She huffed out an unladylike breath, as much as her corset would allow. "I'd give a great deal to be back in Greece where the fashions were sensible."

Hayden quirked a smile at her. "But not warm, Madame. Wales in winter is considerably chillier." As if to emphasize his point, the wind rattled the Rolls with no respect for the craftsmanship that went into it.

"I'm very sorry I agreed to be the Duke's hostess for this mystery party. Why didn't I refuse and stay in our lovely townhouse in London, where I could enjoy a party or write as I pleased?" Madge rubbed her chin thoughtfully. "Ah, well, what's done is done. We'll make the best of the weekend and be toasting our toes in front of the home fires soon enough."

"I've never been to a mystery party, Madame. How does one throw a party for a mystery?"

"Very simple. It's all in this box." Madge patted the locked strongbox beside her. "There are clue cards and the basic plot for me to follow. This one is perfect for a winter game, called The Santa Clause. Who wouldn't love to murder a solicitor or two now and again?" She shrugged. "I certainly would, upon occasion."

Hayden retreated into silence and returned his attention to maneuvering her precious new car through the few treacherous roads that Wales bothered to have at all. The ex-thief was not fond of anyone who had anything to do with the law. He was officially rehabilitated, but a mere ten years of service as her driver didn't negate a lifetime of running from authority. An extremely careful and quiet man by nature, he was -- in Madge's opinion -- the perfect companion, much better than a twittering peahen of a lady's maid.

The car lurched and slid to one side on a patch of icy mud, throwing Madge against the door. She bore it in stoic silence. Hayden wouldn't understand how much they needed the money provided by this weekend of enforced merriment. Everyone was writing books in this day and age, and she wouldn't say the money she earned was paltry, but it certainly didn't allow for a lavish lifestyle. In fact, if the truth were known, Hayden was the only employee she could afford. Thus, while on their jaunts -- often paid by those who wished for a bit of fame and glamour to rub off on them -- Hayden served as chef, chauffeur, lady's maid, and man of all work.

Since it suited her to be knowledgeable about subjects many men hadn't even the stomach for, Madge pulled out of her case one of the few books where the great Sigmund Freud appeared to change his mind on the subject of anxiety and inhibitions. Madge grinned to herself. She did love humor, especially when humans meant to be serious. "Of course we all have inhibitions, moronic little man."

Her mumble caught Hayden's attention. "Why do you bother with that mumbo-jumbo, Madame? He thinks everything has to do with sexual congress!"

"Hmm, yes, well, he does have certain prejudices, doesn't he? I'm not aberrant because I enjoy sex, and I seriously doubt the way your mother changed your nappies has anything to do with your homosexuality. Do be forgiving, dear. He's hopelessly addicted to cocaine, and trapped in a repressed society."

Sadly, everything she said was true. "You'd know more about repressed societies than I, Madame. I'm only a poor human, after all." Hayden gave her one of his infamous Mona Lisa smiles -- a smile that showed no teeth but implied much more than mischief while keeping well into propriety. Bless him, he never stepped a toe out of line publicly, unless called upon to do so.

Madge, on the other hand, had no compunctions about showing her fangs, even when she covered her retractable dagger-like talons with silk gloves. The pointed ears peeking out of dark curls and her Grecian looks marked her as a foreigner in a land notable for its snobbery, but Madge saw no need to bother hiding herself. Well, all right, she hid the wings. Blasted things got in the way if she didn't, but that was for her convenience and not propriety. She was what she was -- an expatriate harpy who told a good story and occasionally found cause to use her bloodthirsty nature to solve a mystery.

The irony was, no one ever thought to accuse her of the murders because harpies weren't known for subtlety when it came to killing. Madge acknowledged the legend with twisted lips, and didn't bother to remind anyone that she was free and no longer the slave of the Furies.

Framed by snow clouds the color of a pigeon's breast, Dunraven Castle hove up from the surrounding hills like a fairytale. Beautifully situated and scrupulously maintained by a trust none of the Duke's wastrel ancestors could touch, it was a welcoming sight in the gathering gloom of dusk. Thanks to the road conditions, if you dared call the deeply rutted mud tracks by the same noble word the Romans used for their craftsmanship, they were hours late. They'd missed tea in their haste to make up time, and now her stomach rumbled audibly. "Have we time for a biscuit, Hayden?"

"Was that your stomach, Madame? Surely I thought we were about to have a storm." Hayden pretended to study the sky very seriously. At the same time, his hand reached back imploringly. "I'd love a bikky, thank you. No doubt I've missed the servant's dinner, and I've no mind to make do with a bit of cold chicken and some bread until morning."

Chuckling wickedly because he knew she always insisted he sit with her at table, forestalling any foolish matchmaking attempts, Madge handed him a large shortbread biscuit from her hamper, and they munched companionably. Finally, the car traversed the bridge atop the dry moat and passed through the portcullis into the courtyard of Dunraven.

"Just do me one small favor, Madame?" Hayden did not move from the seat to open her door.

"So serious! Very well, what is it?" She thought she knew, but made him ask.

"Let's try not to let this weekend become a real murder mystery?" His hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, and she imagined under the proper driving gloves of his profession, his knuckles were white. Poor thing, he really had suffered at the last mysterious weekend, and had ended up incarcerated for three days until Madge had proven to everyone's satisfaction that another had committed the deed. For poor Hayden, it had been a truly miserable occasion.

Madge patted his shoulder. "Buck up, Hayden. I'm planning nothing more than a game all weekend. After all, what could happen in the Duke's presence?"

Purchase at Changeling Press

Meet the Author

Someone cursed Lena Austin with "may you have a life so full you'll have many tales to tell your grandchildren." Lena's a "fallen" society wench with a checkered past. She's been a licensed minister, hairdresser, Realtor, radio DJ, exotic dancer, telephone service tech, live-steel medievalist swordswoman, BDSM Mistress, and investment property manager. Not necessarily in that order. She never finished that degree in marine archaeology, but did learn to scuba -- she's got a lifetime of "Research material!" 

Hey, why waste these stories on kids who won't listen anyway? Writing them down is a nice way to spend her retirement. What? You expected an ex-BDSM Mistress to take up crocheting or something?

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Book Tour Stop/Giveaway: The Flames of Soulfire

 

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. La Kayshal will be awarding $10 PayPal gift to a randomly drawn winner. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Dragons fear prophecy, and love may be the final weapon in this dark, multi-POV Romantasy perfect for fans of Fourth Wing and From Blood and Ash.

Feared as the harbinger of doom, Everin Haydon is stolen, broken, and reforged by magic into a living weapon bound to a Dragon Council that calls its tyranny justice.

Across the realms, Lord Tynan, the Demon of Darkness and Chaos, returns. His awakening marks the coming of the three days of darkness, and he tears through realms to reclaim what fate binds to him, the Hell’s Fire Dragon.

But one question remains. If the demon rises, where is the immortal meant to stop him?

As the dragon world waits for divine intervention, Everin must decide whether she remains a weapon or becomes the fate of the realms.

Read an Excerpt

His control was precise and deliberate.

“Tariel—” She sucked in a breath, fear slipping into her voice. “What are you doing?”

His lips hovered above hers, so close she could taste the hint of warmth in each breath he released.

“You belong to me,” he whispered, his voice shifting, deepening, curling around her like smoke. His eyes burned brighter, molten gold spilling across the darkness of his gaze. “You always have.”

Everin’s heart thrashed in her chest. Something ancient stared back at her through his eyes—something demanding, something claiming.

She tried to pull away. “You’re frightening me.”

He leaned closer, lips brushing the edge of her jaw. “You love me,” he whispered. “You always have. And you will give yourself to me again.”

His mouth dragged slowly toward hers, teasing, commanding, his breath warm against her parted lips.

“I want you,” he said, low and certain. “I want all of you.”

“No.” Everin gasped, turning her head away as panic surged. “Stop. You’re not—”

His fingers tightened at her neck.

He didn't stop. The Tariel she loved would have.

“I am yours,” he murmured.

She squeezed her eyes shut. Then her voice broke in a whisper—

“You’re not the Tariel I knew.”

The room fell silent. And everything inside her knew she was right.

About the Author: La Kayshal is an Australian writer of romance, YA, and children's fantasy novels. She lives with her husband, daughter, and a playful Malshi puppy in the coastal plains of the Sunny State.
br> Her debut novel, The Lost Crown, is an adventure romance set in the exotic landscapes of India. She also created the much-loved Sylph Series, a whimsical children’s collection that introduces readers to the amazing world of Sylphs, with each book carrying a gentle moral lesson. A lifelong fan of wizards, magic, dragons, swords, and elementals, she poured all these passions into her YA fantasy Ariston Baker in the Weird Picture Book, a fast-paced journey filled with realms, riddles, action, and adventure.

Her latest project is the Hell’s Fire Dragon duology, a romantasy series filled with dragons, magic, and high-stakes conflict. Book 1, The Flames of Darkness, begins the story, followed by Book 2, The Flames of Soulflare.

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