Book Tour Stop: The Netherworld Witch by Lisa Acerbo

Title: The Netherworld Witch

Author: Lisa Acerbo

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 08/25/2026

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 79600

Genre: Fantasy, Romance, fantasy, young adult, bisexual, interracial, high school, fantasy world, elves, witch

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Description

Mina Rubenstein has a secret. She doesn’t just sketch elves; her drawings transport her into the kingdom of Auralon. Once there, the princely Callon informs her the king has vanished, dark forces are rising, and Mina is the Netherworld Witch. According to the prophecy, only she can shape the ethereal darkness into anything imagined, find the missing monarch, and save the realm. Mina never asked for magic, let alone a destiny, but refusing Callon’s plea to save his father could doom Auralon.

The only thing worse than her possible death at the hands of mythical monsters is junior year at St. Benedict’s Catholic School. When bullies target her, Mina’s best friend Ayden becomes her sanctuary and first love. But as the torment escalates, Ayden reaches a breaking point. Desperate and angry, she buys a weapon and begins talking about revenge.

Trapped between two worlds, Mina searches for peace in both. One world is filled with family, Ayden, and school. The other full of wild magic and Callon. As Mina’s existence at St. Benedict’s descends into pandemonium, she wonders whether her quest in Auralon is fate or a way to avoid the pain of reality.

Excerpt

The Netherworld Witch
Lisa Acerbo © 2026
All Rights Reserved

Prologue

Snow fell. Mina contemplated how she wanted to show this in her drawing. Snow changed the world. Everything quieted, boundaries blurred, soft edges seeped. A white hush cloaked streets, trees, entire towns. Familiar places were reinvented.

Snow was symbolic. A fresh start, a clean surface, a new beginning, but Mina’s snow, once pristine, ephemeral, and gossamer, was laced with blood. Black dots on the white sheet of paper made flakes heavy and unyielding. She continued to sketch. The flurries fell into Callon’s eyes, drenched his cloak, and hindered his success. The bands of white muffled the anguished cries and the death falls. It made horror beautiful from far away, but up close, evil was anything but pretty.

Mina pressed her charcoal pencil hard against the pristine paper. The elf’s now familiar features appeared intense, smeared with dirt and rage. Pain illuminated his eyes with each new line she rendered. “This is not what I want to draw.”

Chaos ensued. Warriors and mythical monsters clashed as snow and sleet slashed sideways. The princely elf battled goblins. Not one, not three, but four short, stocky, incredibly ugly creatures. Their faces were leathery; hair bulged from large bat ears and curled over most every other part of their bodies. Damp, sweat-soaked strands protruded through chinks in their misshapen armor. Sleet matted tangles down in abstraction over squat, muscular arms. Small and fast, furious, and deadly, the monsters surrounded the prince.

Mina wanted to stop sketching as much as she wished her heart would cease violently rattling in her chest. It was a drawing for God’s sake, but her pencil felt like a prediction and the outcome dire. She couldn’t see Callon hurt.

His gorget and leather armor were splattered with muck and mud, dripping and heavy. His hefty sword sliced through the first goblin’s skin as easily as it carved the white falling flakes. He staggered when another monster’s sword pierced his leg. She etched a gash down his thigh. Callon’s shoulders rounded with fatigue, yet Mina drew on. She couldn’t stop sketching, as much as she tried to pull herself away.

Ice amassed under the prince’s feet, sending him skittering. Blood and mud sprayed the ground burgundy. The warrior struck out, slashing in a circle to keep the remaining goblins at bay. He thrust his sword at one, giving another the chance to use his weapon as a spear. Callon parried and drove his sword into the gremlin’s chest. The monster squealed and fell.

The other two were upon him.

Callon’s blade pierced the winter storm of white. He was not the soldier his sister was, but a calm descended. He’d trained for this equally as hard as she had, and while she excelled at horsemanship, he did so in ground combat. He preferred to face his opponent and stare into their eyes, seeing the evil and feeling as if his sword carried out justice rather than violence. He locked eyes with one of the remaining two goblins, already envisioning its demise.

One monster, more reckless than the other, growled, spit, and swore in a language as rough and rude as itself. The stench of death from the slain devils warred with the odor wafting off the living ones. It brought tears to Callon’s eyes even as he attempted to breathe through his mouth. He assumed the goblin across from him was male, but it was nearly impossible to tell. The foul creature jerked forward, swinging a curved sword with ease, aiming at Callon’s midsection, ever so happy to gut him.

“I’ll see you join the others in eternal sleep.” He screamed above the battle roar that surrounded him and kicked away the fallen dead by his feet.

The two remaining demons moved into fighting range. He wielded his sword with muscle memory from all the long, intense training days with his sister, who had pushed him beyond exhaustion to hone his skills. Callon thanked Elarona for that practice now as he cleaved down and across, hitting the portly monster’s arm and severing it. The creature howled in pain and sank to its knees. The prince kicked out, his boot meeting the beast’s face. It fell over and he stabbed, ending its miserable existence.

The other goblin jumped on Callon’s back, ready to plunge a dagger into his neck. The elf grabbed the monster’s arm, blade slicing his cheek. He wrenched the weapon away and fell backward. He hit the packed snow hard, the impact jarring, and squashed the monster to the ground. The prince’s sword flew from his fingers. He twisted off the creature and scurried away.

The goblin crawled on arms and knees after him, yellow teeth chomping, moving faster than Callon could have ever imagined. Its claws grabbed at his pant leg and pulled him close. The elf pawed the slick and slimy ground littered with remnants of both elven and goblin warriors. His hand closed over a rock and when in range, the goblin’s teeth ready to sink into his leg, Callon smashed the stone against its head. The force of impact reverberated through him. He repeated the motion. The rock slammed into the monster’s skull, the squelch and shatter loud, the squeal of the beast deafening, until it fell limp.

Callon pushed away, stood, and scanned the battleground. It was no longer white even though snow continued to fall. Elarona cheered. The other elven warriors joined in the joyous war cry before turning to help the injured or collect bodies of the fallen for burial. The prince limped closer, anything but delighted. The battle was far from over.

Mina put a hand to her mouth, tears in her eyes, and stopped. She crumpled the drawing into a ball and hid it and the paper and pencil under her mattress. No one could know about it.

She stood, opened the door, exited her room, and waved to the orderly standing guard by the locked doors. She walked down the sterile hallway and into the waiting office.

Mina’s tongue stuck to the inside of her chapped lips, as dry as midsummer sand well above the tideline on a beach. The young and overeager doctor sat behind an organized desk where she attempted to interact, but Mina found the bookshelves overladen with psychology texts, including The Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders, more interesting.

“I have no idea what to talk about.” Mina slouched lower in her chair and battled through her first individual session. She was grateful her parents cared enough to find a place where she’d receive help but mortified that everyone at her high school probably couldn’t stop gossiping about her downfall.

“Tell me why you’re here.” The doctor in the shiny white lab coat had an equally pearly grin. She pushed a tissue box her way.

“It doesn’t make a lot of sense to me.” Mina pushed her tortoiseshell glasses up her nose. “I guess it all got to be too much.”

“Your parents said you were brave coming to them. They’re proud of you.”

“I wish I had talked to them earlier. The bullying was bad, the breakup hard, and it was all stressful, but the other stuff spiraled.”

“What do you mean?”

“The imaginary world with the elves.” Mina focused on the plant at the edge of the desk. “It all seemed real.”

“That’s a good place to start. Let’s explore what happened. There’s no judgment in this room. You can relax.”

She wanted that too, but her knees shook, and her leg refused to stop jumping up and down.

“How’s the journaling going?” the doctor asked.

“Fine.” Her gaze skipped around the room trying to find a focus, but all she saw were possible future sketches. Her pointer finger painted along her jeans, creating circles, ovals, and swirls.

“Tell me a little more. I asked you to put aside drawing and focus on writing down your thoughts and ideas to avoid confusing the real with the imaginary. Has it helped? Any misperceptions?”

“I let my imagination run wild in the past. I get it.”

“It’s much more complicated than that. It’s what we are going to try and figure out here.”

She understood everything the doctor was saying but missed Auralon so much and wanted to continue to sketch Callon, the pixies, Buddy, and the other world she longed to return to.

Her life here was a huge, hot, steaming pile of horse dung, and Mina had no idea what she was going to do about it.

*****

Session over, she walked back to her room, hand skimming the wall. It pulsed in response. A portion in front of her blurred and faded. A figure stood behind it.

The shadow held out its hand but then disappeared.

The wall solidified in front of her.

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NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Lisa Acerbo is the Director of General Education and Liberal Arts at Post University. Her short stories and poetry appear in Scarlet, Sagebrush Review, Moonstone Arts, Poor Yorick Literary Journal, Ripples in Space, Universe in a Bottle by Flying Ketchup Press, Whatever Happened to Hansel and Gretel? by Fathom Publishing (a finalist in the 2024 Best Books Awards in the category of Fiction: Anthology), and Birds of Vermont Museum. When not writing, you can find her walking in the woods with her rescue dogs.

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Release Blitz & Giveaway: Tell Them Goodbye by E.R. Sanchez

Tell Them Goodbye
E. R. Sanchez
(Third Death Series, #1)
Publication date: December 17th 2025
Genres: Thriller, Young Adult

16-year-old Sino and his 17-year-old cousin, Martín, run away from their family’s ranch—El Petaco—after witnessing their cousin Adal murder their cousin Javier over Adal’s marijuana business.

Not wanting to be forced into Javier’s job, Sino and Martín plan to run, knowing that Adal will come after them and anyone they tell. Although running away will leave people confused, Sino and Martín agree that leaving will protect both them and their loved ones from Adal’s wrath.

The pair realize the journey ahead of them is going to be rough, so before leaving they hatch a plan that includes stealing two goats, making it to Arteaga, getting on as many buses as it takes, and paying a coyote to smuggle them across the U.S.-Mexico border.

Sino and Martín don’t know much about life in 1970s America due to their sheltered life on El Petaco, but they’ve heard of a potential better life waiting for them in America and assume it’s the only option for freedom. The harrowing path ahead of them has them constantly looking over their shoulders for Adal’s assassins, fighting off robbers who attempt to take what little possessions they have, and weaving their way through Mexico’s class prejudices, violence, and exploitation.

“Tell Them Goodbye” is an unflinching, gritty immigrant story based on true events. It’s more than just a tale about two cousins trying to get to the United States; it’s an offering to all immigrants who only make it as spirits and an offering for humanity’s unstoppable determination to risk everything to accomplish any goal or dream.

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Author Bio:

E. R. Sanchez is the author of Fried Potato Press’s first full-length novel, Tell Them Goodbye. He also has poems and stories published online and in print.

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GIVEAWAY!

Tell Them Goodbye Blitz

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Tour Stop/Giveaway: Nocturne by Tricia D. Wagner

Nocturne
Tricia D. Wagner
Publication date: April 14th 2026
Genres: Fantasy, Young Adult

In NOCTURNE, sixteen-year-old Livi learns the truth of who she is—a Siren, her people known only to legends. She must learn to master her powers of influence, strength, and destruction to stop a warmongering Admiral from drafting her best friends, capturing and killing her people, and decimating her homeland of Nocturne.

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EXCERPT:

Livi stood before the tavern’s bleak threshold, its heavy door cobbled of wrecked ships.

She peered through its ragged window, quieting the wiser part of her, an inner voice calling for her to turn back. And truly, she was stunned that she’d mustered the daring to try this.

There were dozens of men here—sailors all brooding over their flagons, many looking to be harboring grudges.

The tavern’s splintery walls were studded with trophies—toothy payaras, dry in their death throes, tacked beneath golden portraits of infamous Korps Mariner ships and their dread captains.

The men frequenting this sand-dusted, fish-pongy tavern—The Orphic, were the sun-beaten sailors and damaged soldiers of Merritaine, mercenaries and relieved fighters who’d reached the shore of old age still breathing.

No one dared step a toe in The Orphic unless he bore epic tales—bloody acts of acclaim on the baleful blue seas.

Many here had killed. Some for honorable causes in noble wars, yes. But they’d killed.

For all their savagery, though, they were brave.

Livi had heard enough stories to understand them as uniformly dauntless and skilled. If anyone could help her skip Merritaine’s coast and reach Nocturne, he’d be drinking here.

Through the brume of pipe smoke, she measured each face for hints of affability. Or at least for traces of good humor—signs that someone might consider her offer. If she could just single out one sailor more approachable than not, perhaps she could move to him unnoticed.

But that wouldn’t happen. Women scarcely set foot here, and sixteen-year-old girls certainly didn’t.

A few of the sailors came across as jovial—but even they harbored an undercurrent of trouble in their looks, their ease striking like a gusty southerly bathing the seaside, forecasting a typhoon’s assault.

The afternoon seemed all at once to grow late, a shaft of misted sunlight sluicing through the windows and casting the place in watery relief.

In fixing on that panorama of ocean, Livi could almost see Nocturne’s peaks in the deep west, its moonstone shores marbled with the shadowy ash given by its volcanic chain.

Those heights, she had to reach. For it was said that Nocturne’s high places were hived with sea caves—chambers shining with waters rumored to have healing properties.

Some believed those springs could stave off even death.

Livi eased from her jacket a small jar of pearls, each perfect, as plump as a blueberry—these a mere sampling of the trove she’d collected. They ought to be more than enough to buy passage to Nocturne from someone here bearing the skill, and the gall, and the ship, and the time to set sail for the Isles, along with some assurance that he could ferry her through storms, over waters where lurked sharks and killer whales and squids that tore up boats, and finally beyond the dread Maelstroms.

Livi had imagined this moment many times—making her bold approach in The Orphic, striking a deal. She’d imagined that arriving at this brink would feel like the onset of her escape.

But in finally standing here, readying to approach men alleged to be the most barbarous in Merritaine, the idea seemed beyond reckless.

Célian, her best friend—maybe more—would be sick at the thought of her here. And truly, in darkening this threshold, she felt she was skimming the rim of the Maelstroms, those great whirlpools unceasing in their churning, twisting what strayed near straight down in a tempest, claiming ships and seafarers alike as a part of themselves.

The bright Merrow Ocean glinting in, though, delivered some steadfastness. For at the sight of its rolling, Livi could gather a sense of what it might feel like, teaming with someone here, cruising on his scabrous ship to the treacherous west.

A man seated at the tavern’s back corner stood out a touch.

He looked a decade younger than the rest, and he had all his limbs, which was saying something. He seemed not resentful, or affable, or angry—just somber. His solemnity made it clear that he wanted to be left to himself.

But it also lent an impression of patience. Maybe he’d listen.

She edged open the tavern’s door and crept in. She eased behind a column in the entryway and held still.

She’d have to get to the somber man quick. If she drew too much attention, the barkeep—a tall man, his eyes sharp to check all the action, his manner busy and swift with his bottles—would cast her out before she could lay down one word of her offer.

Or worse—he’d let the men handle the disruption.

Livi stepped from the shade, into the amber light of the tavern.

Author Bio:

As a young reader, writers were like gods and goddesses to now author Tricia D. Wagner. She never could have imagined weaving tales like her favorite storytellers, until a fateful April dinner conversation with her husband about a lecture he attended got her mind whirling. By the end of that summer, she’d written 400,000 words: a speculative fiction trilogy. Wagner felt as if she’d emerged from a cocoon as some new sort of creature. She was hooked.

It was important to Tricia to sharpen her skills, and she immersed herself in workshops, guides, and writing communities, learning from editors how to hone her craft. She did this for years, and the result is her newly released novella The Strider and the Regulus, two independently published novelettes, four soon-to-be published novellas, and five as yet unpublished novels. She found writing to be a method for becoming the person she felt she was born to be. Wagner finds that writing inspires her to be a better person, truer to herself.

The ideas and substance of Tricia’s writing comes from a very deep place that is strongly stimulated by setting. Often, when she has completed a story, she feels as if she’s been to her story world, whether it’s on the map or not. She likes to believe all the places she writes about exist somewhere, somehow.

In writing her stories, Wagner was surprised and delighted to discover how real the characters become to an author; that for many writers, their characters end up as their most treasured friends. She loves to delve into them to mine their natures, secrets, and desires—to tell their stories with the legitimacy they deserve. In studying her characters, she finds she has the opportunity to shape herself, inching closer to the person she wants to become.

Wagner believes revision is magical in its power to make a good book great, and early drafts are only the beginning of a story’s journey. Any idea can wind up a good story, but with reflection and time and improvement, it can become art. Once Wagner completes a revision project, it feels miraculous how many fresh approaches have manifested and how much truer the story feels.

Wagner hopes her readers feel enchanted when they read her stories; that after completing one, it seems they’re drifting out from under a spell. This is exactly how she feels when she finishes writing a story. She hopes to that her writing might expand their minds, spirits, and worlds a bit, and she hope they fall in love with her characters and are moved by her artistry of language.

When she isn’t writing poignant works of literary fiction, Wagner is a Director of Adult Education – ESL Programs at a community college, a job and staff that she loves. In her spare time she enjoys refining her writing craft to discover new angles and landscapes that might enrich her writing palette. One such example is a recent course she took in learning to read ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs, something that’s sure to end up in a story at some point. Wagner lives in Rockford, Illinois, with her husband and three darling cats.

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Nocturne Blitz

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Book Spotlight: Arranged Marriage to a K-Pop Idol by Bianca Rowena

Arranged Marriage to a K-Pop Idol
Bianca Rowena
Publication date: April 28th 2026
Genres: Dystopian, Romance, Young Adult

He who controls the media, controls the world.

In a world where a young woman only has two choices, marry by age 18 and procreate naturally, or be thrown into a fertility prison, AnAn finds herself in an arranged marriage to K-Pop Idol Taejung, who is running from the paparazzi and his government.

Can Taejung and AnAn stop the One World Nation’s plot to use K-pop concerts and fans, to win the world election, or will Taejung be pulled back into the K-pop world he left behind, and AnAn lose her first love?

Author Bio:

Bianca Rowena was born in Romania, Transylvania and has enjoyed writing from a young age. She now lives in Canada, which is the setting and inspiration for her novels. Bianca studied Cinema/Television/Stage/Radio at the Southern Alberta Institute of Technology.

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Series Spotlight/Giveaway: The Occult Series by Lauren Louise Hazel

 

A shuddering, thrilling urban fantasy series

The Reign of the Occult

The Occult Series Book 1

by Lauren Louise Hazel

Genre: YA Urban Fantasy

The Reign of the Occult is a shuddering, thrilling, urban fantasy for Young Adults. Filled with hair raising chases through shadowy streets, frightening fights and mind-blowing magic, it's sure to keep many a different genre loving reader happy.

The battle between the Underworld, full of darkness, and the Overworld, full of light, has been evenly balanced for millennia. Caught between them is the mortal world, where humans have become so afraid of a magic they cannot understand or control that they allow the Occult to rule them. After the Occult joins forces with the Underworld, the balance shifts and the Overworld is decimated.

But still, in the mortal world, the magic won’t die. It appears when a supernatural being and a human have a child, like Prue.

This is the first volume in an epic new fantasy series that spans the three richly detailed worlds as Prue, her non-magical half-brother Everett, and all Magic Users, fight to survive. They are being hunted by the Occult, who turn the Magic Users they capture into tools to eliminate their own kind and, eventually, to destroy all traces of magic.

 

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Chapter 1 – Run

“Prue!” Everett gasped, unable to disguise the desperation in his voice. His legs were aching, his lungs burning, and his heart was pounding erratically in his chest – a reminder that, despite everything, he was still alive.

Maybe not for much longer.

He wheezed, attempting to inhale more air, but from the weakness in his legs, he knew he wouldn’t last much longer.

“Prue! Which way?” he cried, casting a panicked glance at his sister. He imagined he could hear them, the cocking of their guns, drawing near. Every flicker of movement in the streetlight, every sound, felt magnified, as though even the shadows were poised and ready to pounce.

“Both ways are blocked,” Prue replied at last, her feet pounding the pavement beside Everett, faltering only as they approached the junction. She frowned, eyelashes fluttering, and clenched her fists, her nails leaving angry red indentations in the palms of her hands. She was very pale.

“What are you talking about?” Everett gasped, slowing to a canter.

“Nothing is certain.”

Everett, while used to his sister’s cryptic remarks, was not in the mood for games. “That’s not helping!” he cried, skidding to a halt as they reached the turning. He cast a glance over his shoulder. “Are we going left, or right?”

Prue froze and her eyes did too, as they often were when she saw things nobody else could. “I told you,” she said, in a detached tone. “Both ways are blocked.”

Everett cocked the gun he’d held loosely in his palm, trying to ignore the way it slipped slightly in his grasp, dampened by his sweat-slick skin. “Does that mean we’re dead either way?” he asked, with a carelessness he didn’t quite feel. He checked his ammunition, if only to busy his shaking hands, knowing it would probably make little difference in the end. Maths had never been his strong point, but he knew one gun against hundreds were never favourable odds.

“They’re coming,” Prue informed her brother, although she did not meet his eyes. She was staring into the blackness at the other end of the street; Everett followed her gaze, but as always, saw nothing.

“Where—?” he began, before freezing. He couldn’t see, only hear, the rapid pounding of footsteps along a cobbled street. Low at first, the sound was growing louder, clear in the otherwise silent night. The hairs on the back of his neck were standing up in warning. “Ok, you’re right,” he conceded, in a generous tone, “They’re coming! No foresight needed for that. Which way do we go?”

Prue shook her head, dark hair clinging to her bowed face, her eyes crunched in concentration. She was covered in sweat.

“Wait— wait—” Everett muttered, in a panicked breath, realising his sister was going to be of no help. He could see them now, shadows moving in the darkness, emerging at the end of the street. The Officers of the Occult. He shot three times in quick succession – one, two, three – and something must have found its mark, from the strangled cry of pain that followed. They were still alive, then. Good.

Everett had only a moment to feel relief before the others swarmed. They were closing in on them. Although in range, they had yet to fire a single shot; as he expected, their aim was to capture, not to kill.

“Something is changing,” Prue said from beside Everett. She clutched her head, fisting her fingers into her hair, as though physically trying to remove something from her mind. “Another factor is clouding things. His choices are unclear. He’s conflicted already.”

“Prue!” Everett cried, trying to pick something of use from her incoherent ramblings. He pushed her sideways, behind the wall of a garden and out of sight – at least for the moment. They were running out of time – the Officers would be upon them in less than a minute, and then there would be no escape. “Pick a way! Which way has more chance of survival?”

Prue gazed up at the sky, but she was seeing nothing. “Left,” she replied at last, “Maybe he will spare us.”

Without taking a second to contemplate what his sister might mean, Everett grabbed her slippery hand and pulled, turning a sharp left, the Officers of the Occult temporarily vanishing from view. 

Guest Post with Lauren Louise Hazel: My Author Story

As a kid, my dad would always take my sister and I to Waterstones. He always said that the only thing he would always buy us, would be books. While my sister was more interested in numbers, I was more interested in creative subjects. My mum bought me a first edition of Harry Potter and The Prisoner of Azkaban, which would be worth a fortune if my cousin hadn’t torn out the front page. I’m still mad about it… 

During school, my friends and I were obsessed with fantasy shows and novels, which has never faded. We used to have sleepovers, watch Buffy and Angel all night long. We also saw every Harry Potter in the cinema – at least a dozen times when they first came out and theorised about the ending of the books. I read the books so fast that I always knew the endings before everyone else, and everyone was mad when my sister told them that Dumbledore is murdered by Snape before anyone else got to it. 

I started writing more seriously in 2010. During my first year at university, I had health issues and had to have an operation. In the following months of recovery, I was reading a lot and decided to write something. I was stuck indoors and so I wanted to do something more productive. I chose to start a fantasy novel, because that is what I loved. I had read The Wind-Up Bird Chronicle, and I wanted to capture a modern world, but with a magical twist. 

The Reign of the Occult was born. The first in The Occult Series, it’s a fast-paced urban fantasy. In the Mortal Realm, magic is outlawed and hunted by a mysterious and sinister organisation called The Occult. The protagonist is Prue, a girl who is cursed to see the future but never to change it. At the time, a female lead in a fantasy adventure was reasonably rare. The Hunger Games had just come out, which I loved, and the genre boomed following its release. Like me, a lot of writers followed suit and it’s much more mainstream now. 

I took inspiration from Dante’s Inferno to create the 3 different worlds. I was studying history at university, so I’m really interested in myths and legends, and I included myths from all over the world to create the Demons in The Underworld and The Fae in The Overworld. The Occult in the Mortal Realm is grounded much more in reality – based on dictatorships I had studied, including The Third Reich. A big part of the story is the teenagers overcoming incredible odds to defeat evil. I absolutely love this theme in The Lord of the Rings, that you don’t need great power to overcome great evil. 

The theme of teenagers fighting to reclaim their freedom and discover their own power, is present in all my stories. It’s something that comes from my own experiences, overcoming health issues and pushing through against the odds. 

Following the original release of The Reign of the Occult, I was in a significant road accident, and I had ongoing injuries. I had to pause my plans to release the second book in the series, The Queen of the Underworld.

 Since then, I’ve worked hard on my recovery. One, not to lose my day job. And two, to get The Queen of the Underworld completed. The editing was very difficult with my injuries, but I did not give up. I completed the edits and released the second book in 2024. 

Now, I’m fighting fit and ready for my next series, The Tarot Series. The first novel is called The Book of Wands and it’s due for release in 2026. The protagonist, a girl named Olivia, inherits a Tarot Book following the death of her grandmother, which she claimed could predict Past, Present and Future… I picked a female protagonist, which I could relate most to, and had the Tarot Deck be passed down through the female line. I think it’s important for young women to understand and claim their own power. 

Pieces I have removed from the main piece, placed here – keep these so that you can use in your newsletters and content marketing: 

Her brother Everett is her protector – although he doesn’t possess any powers, he is street smart and savvy. The story is their journey through the 3 worlds – The Mortal Realm, The Underworld and The Overworld – fleeing from The Occult. My sister claims that Everett is based on my baby brother, Ben, but I did not realise that while I was writing it. 

It took me about 8 years in total to finish The Reign of the Occult. I started working for a small company in HR, and eventually asked me to move over and build their security function from scratch. While personally I’m much more creative – interested in Art, History and English – my job is much more technical. I’m a Cyber Security Manager now in a role that is mostly dominated by men. It has been a successful career, and I’ve done the writing on the side. It was only during Covid, when I didn’t have to travel to work, that I had more time to work on the manuscript. 

I finally decided I was going to finish a book if it killed me! Once I finished the first manuscript, and realised that I could finish one, the manuscripts that followed were much, much faster. In my mind, the writing has changed from a hobby to a job and now I treat it seriously. If it’s in my calendar, then I’ll do it.

 

The Queen of the Underworld

The Occult Series Book 2

The Queen of the Underworld is the second novel in the award-winning The Occult Series by Lauren Louise Hazel.

Following the fall of The Occult and its Head, Prue receives visions of The Queen of the Underworld—a powerful Demon who was once overthrown by her allies and exiled from her homeland—rising in its place.

Prue sees that the Queen is connected to Prue’s best friend, Lily. This leads Prue and her half-brother, Everett, on their mission across worlds to destroy the Queen and save their friend. But nothing is what it seems.

The Queen is ready and waiting for them—and she will stop at nothing to secure her future and wipe out anyone who opposes her.

 

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Lauren Louise Hazel is a Cyber Security Manager by day and writes YA fantasy by night. She has one annoying brother and younger sister. As she was growing up, the only item her dad would buy her without demanding her pocket money was books. He’s hoping the writing is successful so he can get a Ferrari!

Some of Lauren’s favourite books and influences include the classics – like Lord of the Rings and The Hunger Games – and anything by Haruki Murakami and GRR Martin.

 

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Cover Reveal: The Bone Singer by Abigail Owen

 

Check out the wonderful cover for Abigail Owen's upcoming book, The Bone Singer, which looks amazing from Entangled Teen and coming September 1st, 2026!!

#1 NYT bestseller Abigail Owen delivers The Bone Singer―Riverdale meets The Craft in a town where secrets don’t stay buried and the dead won’t stay quiet.

Full book blurb coming soon.

To preorder The Bone Singer go to: https://geni.us/thebonesinger 

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Paranormal/Urban Fantasy Romance, Teen/Young Adult

About the Author:

Abigail Owen is the #1 New York Times, #1 USA Today, and International bestselling author of 30+ books that range from upper YA (18+) epic romantasy to new adult modern mythic romantasy to super spicy adult paranormal romance. She loves magical worlds with plots that move hot and fast, feisty heroines with sass, heroes with heart, a dash of snark, and oodles of HEAs!

Abbie has a degree in English Rhetoric (Technical Writing) from Texas A&M University (gig’em Ags!), and an MBA from California State University-Sacramento. Prior to becoming a published author, she spent 15+ years using the other side of her brain in various tech- and business-related roles.

Other titles include: wife, mother, Star Wars geek, ex-competitive skydiver, AuDHD, spreadsheet lover, Jeopardy! fanatic, organizational guru, true classic movie buff, linguaphile, wishful world traveler, and chocoholic.

Abbie currently resides in Austin, Texas, with her own swoon-worthy hero, their (mostly) angelic teenagers, and an adorable fur baby.

Book Tour Stop/Giveaway: Vermont Paradise by Natalie Monteiro

Title: Vermont Paradise

Author: Natalie Monteiro

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 01/06/2026

Heat Level: 2 - Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 71200

Genre: Contemporary YA, Romance, contemporary, young adult, family-drama, lesbian, family vacation, campsite, vanlife, dogs, sisters

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Description

A camping trip with her family is what Maria was expecting. Long walks with her dog, Maggie, the usual banter with her sister, Tanya, receiving unsolicited survival lessons from her dad, and pep talks of positivity from her mom. But her predictions were only half correct. Never would she expect to spend so much time with anyone else. Especially not a total stranger. A stranger with such a pretty smile and beautiful green eyes. Because that’s the thing about people who you don’t know. They can teach you things that you never knew about yourself.

Excerpt

Vermont Paradise

Natalie Monteiro © 2026

All Rights Reserved

I threw my backpack into the backseat of our blue Subaru Outback and closed the door. I really wanted to slam it, but I had recently taken it upon myself to be less passive-aggressive. Regardless, I shouldn’t show my cards. Mom had practically begged us to be on our best behavior. For Dad’s sake, she had said. It was his idea to go on this family camping trip. Our first one ever. I didn’t know what inspired this idea of his. All I knew was that he thought it would be a good idea to teach us kids about the outdoors. In case we ever got lost in the wilderness or in case there was total collapse of society. The latter seemed to be his greatest fear.

“All set?” my mom asked as she approached the Subaru.

“Yes, my bag is all packed,” I responded.

“Do you know if Tanya is ready?”

Tanya. My lovely older sister. She was the main reason I was dreading this family trip. I tried my best to keep my composure.

“Probably not. You know how she is. Waiting until the last minute to get ready just like Dad.”

“Ugh, I know,” Mom said with a huff. “Your father is still in the shower.”

We were supposed to be on the road by 8:00 a.m., but here we were at 8:20 a.m., still waiting for them. Getting up early was not an issue for me. If anything, I woke up too early. Like today. Five-thirty a.m. was a bit too much, even for me. I knew it was because I had too much on my mind… I just wanted to get this camping trip over with already.

I gave my mom a half smile before passing her by to go back inside. I wanted to say goodbye to my cat, Remy, while I still could. I bet he would enjoy the house all to himself. If anything, he would enjoy being free from Maggie, our four-year-old Australian Shepherd who still had the energy of a puppy. Which, unfortunately for Remy, meant that she wanted to play with him whenever the rest of us were too busy.

It was one of my favorite things about Maggie. How much she loved to play. We could do it for hours. Fetch with her favorite tennis ball or playing with my old, beat-up soccer ball. She even knew how to play hide and seek! But for her, she didn’t really care what we did, so long as we were doing it together. That was why I made sure she was included in this family trip. But truthfully, it was just as much for her sake as it was for mine.

That the one good thing about camping, at least. It was dog friendly.

I opened the kitchen cupboard, hoping to find Remy there. It wasn’t his typical hiding spot, but it definitely wasn’t his most unusual. He was usually to be found under my parents’ bed, but with all the extra commotion this morning, I figured he wanted somewhere quieter.

I was right. There he was, curled up in a tight ball, staring up at me with his bright-green eyes. He gave me a look of “please just let me sleep some more.” Not this time. If only he could understand that he could go back to sleeping in a few minutes, once all of us had left.

He let out a soft meow as I scooped him up and plopped us onto the black pleather couch. I held him tight against my chest, and he nuzzled in, making himself more comfortable. I stroked the long dirty-brown fur on his back, and I could feel him relaxing more deeply. Soon, he closed his eyes as if ready to return to sleep.

If only he knew how lucky he is, not having to endure the family trip that lies ahead.

“Morning, sis!” Tanya screeched from over my shoulder. My entire body jumped in surprise as my heart rate increased. Remy too was disturbed. His eyes jolted open, and he looked direly afraid. I didn’t know if it was from Tanya’s yell or my reaction to it. Either way, it didn’t matter. I was just lucky that he didn’t run away.

“Ready for some family bonding?” she asked with an overly sarcastic tone. It took every bone in my body to not get upset with her. She knew that I startled easily, and I knew that she got pleasure from seeing it happen. I couldn’t fault her for it this time. I could only wonder how I had missed her coming down the stairs.

“Yeah, I’m ready for it if you are,” I said, trying to gauge just how bad of a mood she was in. Out of all the vacations we could have gone on, at least we could agree that this would be very low on the list. Though I knew she wouldn’t handle camping as well as I would.

She mocked me under her breath. “I’m ready if you are,” she muttered to herself in a voice that made me sound stupid. “You think you’re so clever, don’t you?”

I stared at her without an answer. Was she really starting this already?

“God, you’re so annoying. I can’t believe I’m going to be stuck with you in a car, for, what, like four hours?”

“Like three and a half,” I corrected, wanting to add a splash of fuel to the fire.

“Whatever.” She rolled her eyes. “Close enough.”

I stared at her in make-believe confusion. “Oh, I thought you’d be delighted. It’s less time than you were expecting to spend with me in the car.”

She stared back at me with a dirty grin on her face. “No one likes a know-it-all, Mar. And that’s only one reason why people don’t like you.”

I instinctively clenched my hand into a fist. I usually tried to ignore comments like these from her, but I was getting sick of being her punching bag. Camping would be bad enough on its own. I didn’t need her comments on top of it.

“Aw, what a real shame Tommy didn’t want to come with us. I can’t imagine why. You’re such a charmer. Hey, well, since he’s not coming, why don’t you take all that makeup off? Or are you too insecure to even let your family see what you really look like?”

Remy wasn’t having it. I could only assume he felt the tension. He jumped off my lap and ran up the stairs, probably to hide elsewhere. Anywhere far from here. It made my skin boil hotter. Tanya had ruined my goodbye with him.

She gave me a smirk. “Okay, one: you know Tommy couldn’t take the time off work. And two: you sound like a jealous bitch. It’s not my fault you’re incapable of obtaining a meaningful, long-term relationship. One that’s filled with connection. One that’s filled with love.”

“Yeah, yeah. I’m sure he really loves you. I totally haven’t noticed him flirting with anyone else. Never.”

“That’s it!” She lunged in my direction with her arms at full stretch.

“Girls!” Mom yelled, swinging the front door open and accidentally slamming it into the wall. She stared at where it had hit, clearly upset that it had happened. She turned to give us an angry look of “see what you made me do?”

Tanya’s eyes were locked on mine as she slowly took a step backward. She maintained a glare at me while doing so, making me believe that she really was about to beat the shit out of me. What retaliation had Mom just saved me from?

“It is too early for this much animosity! Please!” Mom seemed unsatisfied that our ongoing tension hadn’t miraculously disappeared into thin air.

“She started it!” Tanya yelled, breaking our deadlock. I felt like I had teleported back to when we were kids. Her five and me four.

“I don’t want to hear it! We have been over this already! I need you two to get along for the sake of your father. This vacation is very important to him.”

I let out a heavy sigh, knowing she was right. “Yes, Mom. It won’t happen again,” I agreed, really hoping that this would be the last of our fighting. But knowing Tanya, Mom’s interference had merely delayed her retaliation, and she didn’t even have a chance to respond.

It was as if Dad had heard his name and was arriving on cue. He bounced down the stairs with a big bag of God knows what in either hand. “All right, all right, all right!” he hummed. “Who’s ready for some camping?” He expressed it in such a way that made the only appropriate answer to be one agreeing with him wholeheartedly.

“Me!” Tanya said, convincingly, taking the words right out of my mouth. It was officially time to put on the good girl show for Dad.

“Me too, Dad!” I said, sounding equally excited.

Mom looked like a wave of relief had been taken off her shoulders. She had nipped our fighting in the bud before Dad could even become aware of it. It was lucky for her, and it was lucky for us. There was no reason to make Dad upset.

“Great! Let’s pack up the car,” he said.

“I already threw my stuff in there,” I explained, alluding to the fact that I had been ready for a while now.

“Okay, well then, you can help me load these bags into the car, and Tanya, you can help your mother fill the cooler.”

I was pretty sure that Mom had already filled it, but I wasn’t going to correct him, and apparently, she didn’t want to either. She just gave him a smile.

I stepped outside. The cool air of the summer morning hit my face. I could already feel the heat from the sun beaming down on top of my head, which meant regardless of the brisk morning air, today was going to be a hot one.

Dad opened the trunk to the Subaru, looking displeased as he noticed the various items that were already loaded in there. He pulled them all out and placed them onto the pavement. I knew too well what he was doing. He needed to load everything in a specific way, making the most space possible. I stood there, watching him, letting him do his thing.

“I’m leaving space here for the cooler,” Dad said, letting me be privy to the inner workings of his mind. He started putting everything back inside, leaving the left side of the trunk open. “Normally, I’d want to put that in first, since it’s so big, but I guess we are going a little wild today.” He paused for a moment, turning to look at me with an amused grin. “Wild! Ha!”

Oh, Dad.

“Good one,” I said with a soft chuckle, mainly because of his reaction to the pun and not the pun itself. Off to the wilderness we went.

Mom and Tanya came out the front door of the house. They each had a handle to the cooler in one hand as they walked carefully toward us. Dad rushed over to meet them. He swiftly took it into his possession, carried it the rest of the way to the car, and slid it into its rightful spot.

“Great,” he said, satisfied. “Now to get the last-minute items.”

“I’ll open up the garage,” Mom said, as if she also knew Dad’s process. I let them handle the rest as I went back inside to retrieve Maggie.

“Mags!” I hollered, entering the house, but she was already patiently waiting at the door for me. Her eyes were wide, and she panted. She started doing circles around me. She hated being alone. Even if it was for a second.

“Do you want to go for a car ride?” I asked, and she stopped in her tracks. This devolved into her running around me even faster than before. She threw in some kind of silly-looking bunny hops. I let out a wholesome laugh at her utter cuteness.

“Okay, good girl! Sit,” I commanded. Her listening skills were great, just like I had trained them to be. I connected her turquoise collar to its matching leash. Together, we did a final walk around the house making sure that I had packed up everything Maggie would need. Her water bowl, her container of food, the bag of treats, and her blanket. They were nowhere to be found, which meant that I had successfully packed them all into the car.

I eyed her bin of toys, opting to bring one more with us. I hadn’t wanted to get it dirty, but I changed my mind. She’d be happy to have her favorite stuffed pickle available to chew during the car ride, so I picked up the soft green blob, and she excitedly mouthed it out of my hand. I smiled down at her, letting her carry it the rest of the way.

“Does anyone need anything else from inside?” I hollered to my family as I opened the front door once more. With overwhelming nos from the family, I locked the door behind me and joined the rest of them at the rear of the car.

They had made fast work. The trunk was now stuffed, with the cooler barely visible behind all the additional items around it. From what I could tell at a glance, they had added in the tents, a propane stove, and camping chairs. With how full the trunk was, it looked like we were going on a two-week trip, but luckily for me, we’d only be gone for the next five days.

With everything all set, we hopped into the car. Dad as the driver, Mom as the copilot, me sitting behind Dad, and Tanya seated behind Mom. Then, of course, there was Maggie, who was half on my lap and half on the middle seat. She shoved Pickle in my face, making me do nothing but smile.

I said a mental goodbye to Remy, and the house at large, as the garage door closed and we began to drive away.

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NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Natalie Monteiro lives in Central Massachusetts where she enjoys embracing her creativity in whatever form it takes. From writing, to singing, to painting. Natalie also works as a biological research scientist in her daily life. She achieved a Master of Science in Pharmacology from the University of Minnesota and a Bachelor of Science in Neuroscience from the University of New Hampshire. Throughout her years of schooling, her creative roots never stopped calling to her, which ultimately resulted in her debut novel Vermont Paradise. It is her hope that Vermont Paradise can serve as a reminder for all to follow their passions. May the process bring much happiness.

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Book Spotlight/Giveaway: Swallows of Mostar by Neira Fazlovic

Title: Swallows of Mostar

Author: Neira Fazlovic

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 11/04/2025

Heat Level: 2 - Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 216

Genre: Contemporary, YA/NA, sports, LGBT, sapphic, Sports romance, cliff diving, summer read, college, contemporary, Bosnia, Herzegovina

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Description

Two years after she moved to Mostar, a historic small town in Bosnia and Herzegovina, eighteen-year-old Franka Garcia still struggles with loneliness, language barriers, and terrible grades. After she accidentally falls off the famous Old Bridge, Franka is rescued by Mirna, a wickedly intelligent, but exasperated teenager obsessed with cliff diving.

Despite training all her life and frequently besting her peers, being a girl means Mirna can never participate in the centuries-old tradition of diving off the Old Bridge. But stubborn and determined Mirna won’t give up so easily.

After Franka’s near-perfect accidental dive, Mirna reluctantly takes on the challenge of teaching her all she knows about cliff diving. If Franka and Mirna want to compete, they must enact their unorthodox plan to take down the patriarchal system forbidding them from diving. Falling in love was never part of the plan.

Excerpt

Swallows of Mostar

Neira Fazlovic © 2025

All Rights Reserved

Čudna jada od Mosta grada

The morning sun was warm against Franka’s skin, and the pleasant summer wind ruffled her hair. Her lungs eagerly took in the first wisps of fresh air after weeks of being stuck inside with nothing but textbooks and math equations to keep her company. She leaned against the cold, stone wall of the ancient street that led to the Old Bridge, as the sweet and nutty taste of her ice cream caused her brain to produce some much-needed serotonin. With the River Neretva carrying away her worries, Franka looked up at the bright sun and smiled for the first time in weeks.

The scene in front of her was a common sight in this part of Mostar. The lanky guide was probably barely out of high school, with a subtle Slavic accent in his English and a vocabulary that could use a bit more work. Still, his flock of tourists (Canadian retirees, if Franka was correct) seemed interested in what he had to say about the city of Mostar, the often overlooked jewel of Southern Europe, as he called it, even if they probably could have read most of his speech on Wikipedia. Today, Franka didn’t mind because, only moments ago, a miracle happened: after two years of living in this city, she finally effortlessly understood a single sentence of the language.

The sentence was uttered, or to be more precise, yelled, through a thick accent by a tall young woman in a traditional Bosnian costume who sold trinkets to the tourists at the store closest to the Old Bridge. To be perfectly honest, the sentence wasn’t overly complex, but it was more than a hello or a plea to buy some souvenirs Franka would have recognized even before she was so cruelly punished by the gods and forced to live in Mostar. It wasn’t even directed to Franka or any other tourist, but to Ado, a short young man (at least, short for the land of giants that was Bosnia and Herzegovina) who was now running past Franka in only his bikini bathing suit, sporting a very smug grin on his youthful face. The sentence was simple, but it might as well have been poetry to Franka. “Ado, idiote, ne naginji se na ogradu, neki kreten ju je jučer razvalio!”

Some jerk busted the fence yesterday, and Ado was a fool for leaning against it. What a lovely statement!

Croatian was needlessly complicated, in Franka’s humble American opinion. So was Bosnian. And Serbian. Mostly because they were the same language with a few subtle differences, no matter what the native speakers would like to argue. Declinations, verb changes, and grammar cases, not to mention genders were all entirely unnecessary. Who decided “river” was female and “bridge” was male, and can their descendants pay for making Franka’s life in the city of Mostar somehow even more miserable?

But on this sunny summer morning, as she made her way to the Old Bridge, Franka at least got this one sentence correct. Maybe Mom was right. She really needed to leave the house.

*

“Franka, I just heard from a reputable source that it is summer outside. Can you believe it?” Mom had announced last night. She had walked into Franka’s, what could in the most generous terms be called “room,” without knocking and skipped over a pile of textbooks on the floor.

Franka sat behind her desk, a few days away from being completely taken over by the chaos that spread far and wide. Math, chemistry, and physics textbooks covered most of the available surfaces, other than the bed with messy covers that were probably supposed to be changed a few weeks ago. The seemingly endless quantity of mugs and bowls of cereal that kept appearing, but never disappearing, were very close to developing their own civilizations in this hot and moist environment. Franka didn’t have time to care. She had more important things to worry about.

She had finished studying chemistry for today (the urea cycle) and turned to math practice, littering her desk with scraps of paper filled with math formulas she understood perfectly. In English. Croatian was a different story.

“Really?” she asked, not even looking up at her mom, checking her result in the back of the textbook instead. It was correct, as was every single result she’d gotten for days had been. “I haven’t noticed,” she added in Croatian when she remembered this was her “no English summer.”

“Go out, please,” Mom said, switching back to English. “I beg of you. You have been in this house for a month! You will pass your exam.”

“I thought so last time, but here we are now!” Franka said. She was so lucky Bosnian colleges worked differently than the American ones, giving her an opportunity to retake her entrance exam in September and actually get in. The whole schooling system was unlike the one she was used to, where specialized colleges for pharmacology (as well as anything else) allowed her to skip undergrad studies and become a pharmacologist in just five short years. That was, if she could pass her exam.

“You have been stuck in this filth since June! That’s not healthy,” Mom continued, looking around as Franka suddenly became aware of the mess, the faint smell of stale air, and the boxes of stuff she should have unpacked two years ago. Still, she shook her head “no” and picked another math problem to focus on instead.

“Neither is not getting into college,” she said and tried to get back to her linear systems with two variables. Every list of questions from previous entrance exams for the Faculty of Pharmacy at the University of Mostar had at least one of those. If she wanted in, she had to be proficient, so god help her! “Very bad for the thyroid gland.”

“So, you want to cram two years’ worth of studying that you didn’t do into two months?” Mom asked, perfectly aware Franka might pull it off by any means necessary.

“That’s the plan,” Franka said and turned back to her math problem, but Mom wasn’t quitting.

“Go out. Please,” she begged again, but Franka wasn’t listening. “One hour?” she asked. “Can’t you spare one hour, so I don’t think you are losing your mind with all that science? One hour and you can get me off your back for at least a week.”

Franka paused for a moment. She was wasting time arguing right now, as she did for the past few days. It probably added up to an hour or so in total. Maybe this was the solution.

“You are in one of the most popular travel destinations in Eastern Europe. Enjoy it for an hour,” Mom continued. “Pretend to be a tourist. Grab some ice cream. Please. Mostar is a beautiful city. I promise you.”

“Very overrated,” Franka scoffed. When she was a kid, Franka had loved coming to Mostar for a few weeks every few years. Then she would go back home to Atlanta and tell her friends she went all the way to Europe and to this small country called Bosnia and Herzegovina in the Balkan Peninsula where her mom was born. Now that she was stuck here, it was hell. The city didn’t change, but everything else did. Mostar was a picturesque town, filled with history, world-famous for the sixteenth century Old Bridge that connected both sides over the gorgeous River Neretva that divided them. It was also too hot, too touristy, and too small (both in its size and the mentality of its people).

“Because our suburban hellhole in Atlanta was so much more fun,” Mom said, making Franka frown. If nothing else, Mostar was a living, breathing, organic city, even if half of the buildings were destroyed in the War and never fixed.

“I have to study. I don’t have time to mess around,” she continued. Tomorrow was the time to tackle the Krebs cycle again. Last time she lost at least ten points on that question. She knew it in English, but when she tried to explain it in Croatian, panic took the wheel of her brain and drove them both straight into a ditch.

“You want to practice the language? Go out, talk to an actual Herzegovinian other than me! It will do you wonders,” Mom continued, closing the textbook right in front of her.

That was the second argument that had given Franka pause. Coming to Mostar with barely any knowledge of the language despite her mom being born and raised here and then going to a school that was in English for two years really didn’t make any of this easier. Every time she thought she had the hang of it, someone would drop a new slang word or speak too fast and she would get lost again, so it was easier not to try at all.

“And you know, Isabella would love a selfie from the bridge. You know she loves bridges,” Mom added in her sweetest voice because she knew bringing up Aunt Bella would work.

And it did.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Neira Fazlovic is a writer of books about lesbians, ghosts and science. Veterinarian by trade (and soon to be a PhD), she has been writing since she was thirteen. She is a great fan of cats, typos and Bosnia and Herzegovina.

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