Book Spotlight Tour Stop: Cupids' Flight by Mell Eight

Title:  Cupids' Flight

Series: Wings, Book Two

Author: Mell Eight

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 09/22/2026

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 18800

Genre: Paranormal, MM Romance, Halloween, Samhain, anthropomorphic, interspecies, magic/magic-users, Japanese mythology and folklore

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Description

Betrayed by love in the worst possible way, Leo spends his days alone. He works alone, lives alone, and that's the way he prefers it until he rescues a strange creature named Hei from the goblins, and Hei refuses to let Leo be. During Samhain, a time of transition, falling into Hei's embrace is all too easy. However, Hei's wish to stay with the cupids requires they embark on a quest to fulfill love, a quest that might prove unsolvable as Hei's past comes calling with a vengeance.

Excerpt

Cupids’ Flight

Mell Eight © 2026

All Rights Reserved

The quarter moon overhead glowed, but the streetlights glowed brighter. In fact, every house in the suburban neighborhood Leo was walking through was bright and welcoming with pole and porch lights, and every other outside light on and illuminating the yards and driveways. Fake cobwebs, blow-up spiders, and plastic graveyards dotted lawns everywhere Leo looked, and throngs of kids walked the sidewalks in elaborate costumes. Leo estimated only some of the costumed people were actually still children. That said, no matter their age, everyone seemed equally happy to hold out open bags already full of candy to get more sweets at every door.

Halloween. Leo honestly didn’t mind this particular human holiday. Normally when he traveled to Earth from his home in the clouds with the rest of the cupids, he was forced to conceal his wings. He hated feeling so restricted, as if someone had tied a band around his chest and squeezed. To do his job properly the wings had to be hidden, so he endured the discomfort. The one exception was on Halloween.

“Dude! Your animatronics are sick!”

One of the boys, whom Leo really thought ought to have grown out of costumes and candy, jogged over with his group of friends following. He wore a green mask representing some sort of Earth superhero, jeans, and a black shirt. His friends also only wore the bare minimum of a mask as their nod to the holiday, but they all wore something different so at least there was some effort.

“Do they move?” green mask asked.

“They do,” Leo replied. He stuck a hand in his jeans pocket, trying to act like he thought the movement was covert, which ensured they all saw him and thought he was palming a remote, before straightening out his wings. He flapped slowly twice before folding them along his back again.

“I have got to get me one of those!” another member of the superhero group said, sounding awed.

“They’re expensive,” Leo warned, although he honestly had no idea what animatronics actually cost.

“A worthy goal!” green mask declared.

Before anyone could say anything else, another superhero ran up to the group.

“You’ve got to hurry!” he said. “The Artogos are giving out full-sized candy bars, but I think they’re starting to run out!”

With a parting wave, the group ran off, heading to yet another brightly lit house. Leo continued on his way, dodging sugar-hyped, overstimulated kids and their suffering adult chaperones until he reached the only house on the block that was completely dark. Only a dim light through a crack in a window shade indicated anyone was home. Leo headed up the driveway, then ducked around the side of the house where he found a nine-foot privacy fence separating the front yard from the back. None of the bright light from the neighboring houses reached the fence. Hidden within those shadows, Leo jumped and flapped his wings just enough to get him over the fence and into the backyard.

The shades had not been pulled closed over the French doors separating the back deck from the dining room inside, letting light spill out into the overgrown yard. In the kitchen, a woman leaned heavily against the counter, a mixing bowl full of something in front of her, although she wasn’t stirring. She looked thin and wan, bone-tired, and generally not well.

To the left of the dining room, Leo found a living room. The TV flickered on commercials, shedding their glow over an easy chair where a man lay, snoring. The table in front of him was full of empty, half-crushed beer cans.

Leo’s mission tonight was simple: help the woman find the courage to leave her drunken fool of a husband.

His power as a cupid was the best way to help her. Two types of cupids lived up in the clouds that Leo called home. Love cupids helped couples find each other, and encouraged people to take the next step in building a beautiful relationship together. Leo couldn’t stand them. The only thought filling love cupids’ heads was how to make people happy, but they never bothered to dig deeper to see where true happiness lay. Actually… Leo shook his head. That thought was wrong. He had recently met love cupids who weren’t that foppish. His nephew, Sable, was married to one, and since Sable seemed happy, Leo tried hard not to judge all love cupids the same. He found it extremely difficult though. After nearly three thousand years of fixing love cupids’ mistakes—where they thought they had brought about true love and instead caused pain—finding a handful of love cupids who were actually capable wasn’t nearly enough to fully change his mind.

For Sable’s sake, Leo was trying, but he definitely wasn’t finding it easy.

Leo was the opposite of a love cupid; he was a loss cupid. Where love cupids brought people together, loss cupids like Leo helped to separate them. When a relationship needed to end, a loss cupid was able to help convince people it was time to move on. In a perfect world, Leo would then deliver the newly separated couple to a love cupid to help them find a new love. That was why Sable and his husband Wynn worked so well together. Love and loss cupids were working together more often these days, but Leo worked alone for a reason. Most of the cases assigned to him just weren’t suitable for a love cupid.

The couple he was looking at separating right now was a perfect example of when the influence of a love cupid would only cause harm. Most of the woman’s bruises were emotional, but abuse was abuse. Words were far more painful than fists, but far less visible. What she needed was the courage to free herself and then take the time to heal. A damned love cupid wouldn’t give her that time, instead attempting to match her with her true love before her heart was repaired enough to be ready to try again.

His simple recurve bow appeared in his hand, and an arrow appeared in his other hand. Leo nocked the arrow and lined up his shot, waiting a moment to be certain the woman wasn’t going to suddenly move, then let the arrow fly.

The glass doors were no impediment to his arrow, which slid through as if they weren’t even there. The arrow landed with a solid thud in the left side of her chest, right in her heart. She didn’t move, as if she didn’t notice, or care enough to notice. The arrow shimmered for a moment and then faded away, leaving behind a completely unblemished shirt and no sign of blood.

The woman suddenly shook her head and pressed one hand to her forehead, but then her jaw firmed and she stood up straight. She briefly glanced over at her snoring husband, and a sneer tilted her lips as she strode away from the kitchen, vanishing from Leo’s view. When she returned a few minutes later, she carried a large suitcase. She vanished from view again, and a moment later a light came on in an upstairs window.

She would pack what she could carry and likely go to stay with her sister. Within a week, divorce papers would be served. Leo’s work here was clearly done.

He hopped the fence again and melded back into the crowd. Fewer very small children were out and about now, and more of the older ones who should have grown out of the holiday had appeared. Leo wended his way through them, trying to return to the secluded park at the end of the street where he could call on a portal to take him back up to the clouds. He would report his success and then head to his house. The first Samhain celebrations back home had no doubt already begun. Sable had invited Leo to the party his husband Wynn was throwing, but Leo had politely declined. After tonight’s mission, what he really needed was some time to relax in the peace and quiet of his own home. Maybe tomorrow he could stop by the main square in town to see the decorations, although going alone to see the intricately carved pumpkins and turnips lining the square had lost its shine a long time ago. The last time Leo had any fun at a solstice event was when Sable was still a child and Leo could bring him along. These days, Leo found it better to just stay home.

“Purple, it’s been a long time,” a voice said from Leo’s left.

Leo looked over, but he already knew who he would see. Only one bastard called him “Purple” after the color of his wings.

“Giblets. It’s been five hundred years, I believe?”

Leo tried not to remember what event had occurred five hundred years ago that had resulted in him being somewhat friendly with a goblin, but when your ex-lover had tried to destroy cupid society and killed your brother in the process, it was hard to forget. Leo had thought his ex was a gentle soul, but Elder Ortho was only using Leo to further his plans to become king of the cupids. Never mind that cupids didn’t have kings and lived in a fairly socialist society, Ortho believed he could unravel their societal structure and place himself on top. Giblets was one of the goblins who had helped the cupid elders bring Ortho’s reign of terror to an end.

“I hope you’re not out shopping for dinner right now,” Leo continued. “Even though it’s Halloween, I suspect the people running around will be missed.”

Giblets snorted. “You know we only eat the flesh of evil souls, and kids might be evil-hearted at times, but not properly evil enough to make a good meal. Only one truly evil person lives around here,” he added, throwing a thumb in the direction of the only dark house. “But now that you’ve been by, we’re happy to let the meat stew a little longer while he gets some comeuppance. He’ll be very tender soon.” His grin showed off all his pointed teeth, flashing bright in the streetlights. “No, I’m here for another reason, Purple. We raided an underground nest of nasty demon worshipers last night for some good eating and found something. Or someone. We’re not really sure what he is, just that he’s got wings. Since you’ve got wings too, maybe you can talk to him and figure out how to get him home again?”

“Lead the way,” Leo replied, his answer immediate.

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NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

When Mell Eight was in high school, she discovered dragons. Beautiful, wondrous creatures that took her on epic adventures both to faraway lands and on journeys of the heart. Mell wanted to create dragons of her own, so she put pen to paper. Mell Eight is now known for her own soaring dragons, as well as for other wonderful characters dancing across the pages of her books. While she mostly writes paranormal or fantasy stories, she has been seen exploring the real world once or twice.

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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.

Purchase

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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Discover Your Priceless Advice by Celeste Castro

Title: Your Priceless Advice

Author: Celeste Castro

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 08/11/2026

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 304

Genre: Contemporary, contemporary, romance, sapphic, soulmates, small town, conflict of interest, workplace romance, social justice, school setting, BIPOC, anxiety attacks

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Description

Sophie Turner, an equity consultant and former high-powered attorney, is used to standing up for those who need a powerful advocate on their side. When it comes to her own self-interests, that’s a different story. When Sophie takes on a new client—helping an elementary school in a conservative, rural state work through an open display of racism—she’s ready for battle. Complicating things is Sophie attended this school thirty years ago, and she hadn’t counted on coming face-to-face with her past.

Benita Carlos, a teacher at the school, puts her career on the line in supporting her students in their stand against racism. When their new equity consultant turns out to be one of the most influential people of Benita’s past—and her first crush—everything becomes much more difficult. It’s preposterous to think that after so many years they’d still have anything in common. But Sophie and Benita’s intense connection rekindles and heads toward a conflict of interest, risking the well-being of students, families, and their community.

Sophie and Benita take on external pressures and professional hurdles, while wrestling with hardships from their past. Their shared journey hints at the promise of something more, but will their past issues and outside forces drive them apart?

Excerpt

Your Priceless Advice

Celeste Castro © 2026

All Rights Reserved

“Reservation under Sophie Turner,” Sophie said as she approached the restaurant host. She balanced her cell phone in one hand, her purse over her shoulder, and her laptop bag slung over the other arm.

“For two?”

“Correct. He’s on his way.”

“Of course. Right this way.” The host walked her to the table.

“Thank you,” Sophie said as she settled in. She welcomed a few moments to herself. She’d just started reading an infuriating article in the Washington Post about a group of elementary school teachers in the state of Idaho who had dressed up as stereotypical portrayals of Mexicans for their school Halloween party, and another group had dressed up as Trump’s border wall. As a Latina herself, this kind of shit pissed her off and fueled her drive to fuck shit up. In Sophie’s line of work as an equity consultant, stories like this weren’t out of the ordinary, unfortunately.

She continued reading, feeling something familiar. “What?” she muttered. “No way.”

Valley View Elementary.

A light flickered in her mind. Sophie had gone to school there. Ages ago. Her family had moved shortly before her freshman year of high school. She caught glimpses of her life way back when and of her childhood best friend. She smiled as she always did when she remembered that time in her life.

Sophie continued reading, shaking her head at the stupidity, and the absurdity—the unapologetic display of racism and the degree to which the administrators defended their staff.

“Was this in poor taste? Sure,” Principal Dennis Wheeler had stated. “Was it done with malicious intent? No.”

Sophie was heartened to read about a small but growing group of teachers, parents, and community members asking for resignations and changes at their school.

What this school needed wouldn’t come about easily or cheaply, not to mention the culture shock shake-up this type of change would require. Sophie wished she could offer her services, but she didn’t have the bandwidth to take on something else this year. She should hire another consultant—yet another to-do on her never-ending list—especially if the work kept coming in at its current pace.

“Hi, honey.”

“Hi, Dad.” Sophie stood and gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Have you been waiting long?” he asked, sitting opposite her.

“Just got here. I was reading about—”

“I ran into a bit of traffic on my way, and parking was a nightmare.”

“Good afternoon,” their waiter said cheerfully, filling their glasses with ice water while another waiter set down a basket of sourdough bread. “It seems your entire party is here. Are you interested in something else to drink besides water?”

“Actually,” her dad said after sipping his water, “there is one more person we’re waiting on.”

“What?” Sophie asked, her chest tightening.

“Surely, I told you.” He tore off a piece of bread and shoved it in his mouth.

“You know you didn’t.”

“What’s one more?” Her dad brushed the crumbs off his fingers.

“This is a table for two. Clearly.”

“Oh, that’s no problem.” Their waiter smiled eagerly, oblivious to the growing friction. “So, one more?”

“One sec. Dad?”

“Odette’s coming.”

Sophie closed her eyes and rubbed her forehead. “How many times do I have to tell you this is wildly inappropriate? We aren’t together anymore. This isn’t the first time we’ve had this conversation. You of all people need to accept that we’re getting a divorce.”

“You’re not divorced yet.”

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“You can work it out, honey. If you really want to.”

“Dad.”

“So, a chair?” the waiter asked through a perfect grin.

“Hold on.” Sophie’s dad raised a finger in the air.

“No chair,” Sophie pleaded.

“No chair?” The waiter eyed them suspiciously.

“It’s not like I planned it. We were talking, and I invited her. I didn’t think you’d mind.”

“Then you weren’t thinking.” Sophie didn’t usually make it a habit of talking to her dad so boldly, but this warranted it.

He gave her the look, and she dropped her gaze and slumped her shoulders.

“You know she lives in the area. I thought that was why you chose this place. It’s rude not to invite her. What’s the harm?”

“Why are you still talking to each other?”

“You two were together for nine years, Sophie. She’s like a daughter to me.”

“Chair?” The waiter shifted from foot to foot while rubbing the back of his neck.

“Please, another chair would be great,” her dad said, sending the waiter on his way. He returned a short while later with another chair and an additional place setting.

“Fuck’s sake,” Sophie muttered under her breath.

“Excuse me?”

“Nothing.”

“You can still be friends with her, Sophie. You can still be decent to each other.”

“Dad, I can’t be friends with an abusive—”

“Stop. Right now.” Her dad shot his hand up so quickly he almost knocked over his glass of water. “You’re being dramatic. You can’t blame Odette for being strong in her convictions.”

Sophie scoffed. “Strong in her convictions? Try verbally abusive, controlling, and manipulative.”

“Okay. Okay. You made your point. Can we move on? Please?”

Sophie placed her hand over her chest, trying to calm her racing heartbeat. A dull pain stabbed behind her eyes. To top it off, Odette arrived at that moment, all swaying hips and smiles, as if the last time they’d talked hadn’t resulted in a screaming match.

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NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Celeste Castro is from small-town, rural Idaho, where most of her stories take place. She grew up with learning differences, though she always kept a journal. Her characters are a little like her, completely versed in the art of Chingóna and speaking Spanglish. When she’s not glued to her laptop, Celeste’s digging in her garden, practicing tai chi, or looking for something to deep clean. Celeste currently lives with her wife in Chicago—the best city on Earth!

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Tour Stop/Giveaway: Aidan and the Alien Invasion by Damian Serbu

Title: Aidan and the Alien Invasion

Series: Arrival, Book One

Author: Damian Serbu

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 07/28/2026

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 286

Genre: Sci Fi, Sci-Fi, futuristic, new adult, aliens, college, coming of age, geeks, nerds, interspecies, slow burn/UST

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Description

Aliens seize control of Earth, descending without warning, cutting off communication systems and crushing military resistance. Aidan and his friends flee home from Chicago to rural Michigan, but learn the aliens control the entire planet.

Their leaders have dark intentions that Aidan and his friends uncover when they fall in with a revolutionary faction of aliens who desperately seek to save humanity. Human aid to the revolutionaries’ cause is essential but dangerous. As secrets and surprising histories are revealed, Aidan adds to his own chaos when he drifts into an unlikely romance.

As if ADHD and dealing with young adulthood weren’t enough stress, Aidan has to navigate his role in the conflict, as well as embrace his heart’s desire with an unexpected ally.

Excerpt

Aidan and the Alien Invasion

Damian Serbu © 2026

All Rights Reserved

Chapter One

Visitors

“What the heck!” Jarvis exclaimed as he stared at the television when Aidan walked into the common area. “Have you seen this?”

Aidan glanced at the TV, wondering why his quad mate called his attention to some disaster movie he decided to watch in the middle of the day. Aidan ignored him and went to the fridge to grab an energy drink. He glanced out the window at the Chicago skyline, glistening in the afternoon sun.

Aidan squinted into the bright light, confused to see a Star Destroyer instead of an airplane heading for downtown. Maybe Ellie had a point last night when she told him to stop watching so much Star Wars.

“Dude!” Jarvis shouted, startling Aidan and turning his attention away from the window and back to the TV. Aidan grew alarmed at Jarvis yelling at him, for the first time he could ever remember. “Look!” Jarvis jabbed his finger toward the screen over and over.

Aidan walked over and stood behind Jarvis, who let his arm fall to his side as he sat on the couch, mesmerized.

Okay, so the movie impressed Aidan with its realistic scene. Everything appeared as if they watched one of the major news networks reporting on an alien invasion of Washington, DC. The news logo was prominently displayed in one corner with the time of day, the scroll across the bottom ran with the latest news, and in a tiny inset box, the anchor talked in a somber tone about the main event on the screen.

Speaking of Star Wars, most of the TV screen showed a lame rip-off of a Star Destroyer hovering over the US Capitol and stretching all the way to the White House. Shaped in the same triangular fashion, the movie Jarvis watched only bothered to change the appearance with a smooth, shiny gold surface and no other extended pieces of ship, guns, or protrusions. So they went with a golden Star Destroyer phallic kind of shape.

But the newswoman looked scared shitless. Seemed realistic. Aidan was impressed the movie producers got an actual anchor to appear in the film, and she could act well enough to sound believable.

“What are we gonna do?” Jarvis asked Aidan, his usual authoritative voice quivering.

“Huh?”

Jarvis pointed to the TV again. “We need to get out of here. But where can anyone be safe? They’ll come here too. They could go anywhere.”

“Have you been drinking?” Aidan asked. “What movie are you watching, anyway?”

“Dude!” Jarvis screamed even louder. “That’s not a darn movie! Real, dude. Real. Happening now.”

Aidan scrutinized the television more closely, and his heart raced. He grabbed the remote and hit the guide button to verify his fear. Jarvis was watching the actual news, not a movie.

“Holy fuck! They really invaded Earth? Are you sure? What are we going to do?” Aidan took his turn to shout in alarm as he dropped the energy drink.

“I asked you those questions already!” Jarvis launched off the couch. “Okay. Stay calm.” He pointed toward the spilled drink on the carpet. “Clean up, dude. No. Scratch that. We gotta go. Now.” He returned to his more staid and thoughtful self, but his body language gave off a sense of urgency.

Which was good, because Aidan prepared to lose his shizzle. “Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit. Two major problems.” Aidan and Jarvis stared at each other across the couch as Aidan spoke in an increasingly high-pitched whine. “We don’t have a car. And they’re almost here.” Aidan pointed toward the window.

Jarvis and he turned their attention to the skyline, where the supposed airplane of earlier flew at a slow rate toward downtown Chicago, coming close enough to show them the truth. An enormous gold triangular-shaped craft loomed on the horizon. It matched the spaceship taking over Washington, DC.

Jarvis clutched Aidan by the shoulders. “Pack a bag. Fast. Take whatever you need. Like we got two minutes to get out of here.”

Aidan loved a man in charge, even if the particular man commanding him was straight, so he launched into motion without thinking. He hurried to his room, grabbed his backpack, and threw in his computer, a couple of sentimental items from the top of his desk, and his favorite clothes from a drawer. The flurry of activity helped alleviate a little of his ADHD reaction to a major stress event. His mom’s voice in his noggin also reminded him to take deep breaths. He’d crammed in as much as possible and scanned his belongings when Jarvis yelled from the living room.

“Now, dude! Aidan?” Jarvis ran into Aidan’s room and pulled on his arm. “We gotta go.”

Aidan followed Jarvis into the common area as they sprinted toward the door, but Jarvis lurched to a stop.

“Wait.” Jarvis stared down at Aidan. “Where are we going?”

“Shit!” Aidan screamed. “I was following you. I assumed you had the next move figured out! You plan months in advance. You have your life all dialed in for, like, the next thirty years!” He knew he sputtered along like an unhinged lunatic, but rising to an emergency never was one of his strengths. He pointed at Jarvis. “You sounded like you had a plan. I thought you had a plan!”

Jarvis jabbed a finger toward the window. “Well, I forgot to factor major alien invasion into my future. I’ll recalibrate for these visitors, but for now, I doubt we have time to do much more than get out.”

Aidan nodded as they stared with vacant, fearful expressions at each other.

“We don’t have a car.” Aidan shrugged. “I doubt the El will get us far enough away. Uber. Taxis.” Aidan shook his head. “Not gonna work. I mean, I assume they all roared out of town or got riders already. I got nothing.”

Jarvis nodded agreement. “Yeah. Me neither. But staying here seems like a super bad idea.”

“Why?” Aidan asked. The safety of the residential hall and ignoring the crisis had a certain allure suddenly.

“Why?” Jarvis shot back. “Why? Aliens!”

“I know. I know. But are we fleeing because of danger or because we think we should flee?”

Jarvis squinted at Aidan. “You gotta make sense if you want an answer.”

“I mean, are they Sigourney Weaver nasty aliens or E.T. coming for a visit and some tea? How do we know if we should panic?”

“How would I know?” Jarvis’s eyes grew enormous.

Aidan pointed to the TV. “What’d the news say?”

“Oh. They said the spaceship appeared over Washington without communicating to the people below. There are no signs of massive explosions or blowing the crap out of the Capitol, like in a disaster movie. But the spaceship is hovering over everything, and all electronics have fizzled out. None of them work: no cell phones, no satellite communication, no computers, like, nothing but a few people calling from old-school landlines.”

“Landlines?” Aidan scrunched his brow.

“Phones. Don’t you ever watch old movies?”

As if on cue, Aidan’s phone rang with the “Imperial March” from Star Wars as his ringtone.

“Well, that’s fitting,” Jarvis muttered as Aidan grabbed his phone.

“Yes!” Aidan yelled as he looked down at Ellie’s smiling face. “She always knows what to do. Always.” He held up the phone and showed Ellie’s picture to Jarvis.

“Answer!” Jarvis ordered him.

Aidan tapped the screen and held the phone to his ear. “Ellie! What the fuck? Have you seen?”

Her calm voice on the other end immediately took Aidan’s blood pressure down several points. “Yes, I saw. I can’t imagine many who haven’t. I need you to listen to me and get control of yourself.”

Aidan took a deep breath. “I’m in control.” Shit, his voice quivered.

“You sound about ready for a major panic attack. Don’t lie. Is someone with you, in case you freak?”

Aidan nodded his answer.

“She can’t see you,” Jarvis said aloud.

“Right.” Ellie chimed in from the phone. “Aidan, who’s with you? Can he help?”

“Oh, yeah. Jarvis. You know, my roommate.”

“Let me speak with him.”

“You already are. I put you on speaker.”

“Jarvis, you can hear me?”

“Yep. Shoot.” Jarvis grabbed the phone from Aidan’s shaking hand before he dropped it.

“You two need to haul ass downstairs, fast. Don’t take the elevator because electrical systems are starting to fail like in Washington. Did you see the news? I assume the same will happen in Chicago and anywhere else these assholes go.”

“Yes, we know.” Jarvis answered again. Aidan decided to stay quiet and concentrate on remembering to breathe.

“So,” Ellie continued, “hit the stairs like you’re running a race, and I’ll pick you up in the alley. The alley out back, near the kitchen. Guys, roads are packed. People are fleeing. We have like two seconds to get out of downtown before this place goes to shit.”

“Gotcha.” Jarvis hung up and handed Aidan his phone. “Follow me.”

Jarvis opened the door and hurried into the hallway, where they saw a group of people waiting for the elevator. Aidan started to move, but Jarvis grabbed his arm.

“Don’t forget your bag.” Jarvis pointed to Aidan’s backpack, sitting inside their doorway.

“Yeah, yeah.” Aidan slung the backpack over both his arms and adjusted the straps to fit on his back as Jarvis hurried down the hall.

“Where are we going?” Aidan asked Jarvis because they moved away from the growing throng at the elevator.

“You want to be in the elevator when all the power goes out?” Jarvis asked him as he pulled on his arm to hurry Aidan along. “Did you hear a thing Ellie said?”

“I listened but can’t process very well. But no, I don’t fancy getting stuck in an elevator though.”

A few other students pushed past them in the opposite direction, but one looked at them for a second, then spun to follow after they passed him.

Jarvis slammed open the emergency staircase door and rushed into the stairwell, Aidan following close behind. Far below, they heard an emergency alarm sounding because someone had opened the exterior fire exit. Others ran down the stairs with them, a group of jocks pushing past as they leapt two stairs at a time without concern for shoving into people.

“Fuckers,” Aidan muttered under his breath as he concentrated on going fast without falling. His backpack must weigh ten thousand pounds, and he already had started to sweat.

Jarvis, taller and speedier, stopped at every landing to make sure Aidan was following. He carried his larger bag in one hand and did not seem to exert any effort whatsoever to move fast. At each floor, additional students packed onto the landing, pushing bodies more and more tightly into the stairway. Aidan stuck to the edge to lessen the feeling of claustrophobia beginning to set in. The white wall’s brightness felt more open visually than getting stuck in the middle of a crowd of panicked people, even though he knew they could just as easily smash him into the drywall as much as a body.

On the third floor, with Aidan feeling the breeze from outside rushing into the building, a woman moved slower with her foot in a cast. With one hand, she gripped the stair railing as she hopped down one step at a time, while the other hand held tight to two crutches.

Jarvis hurried down to her. “You need help?”

“I’m good,” she answered. “Protect yourselves.”

Unconvinced, Jarvis stayed beside her to block people from blasting into her, so Aidan took the cue and remained two steps behind him to create more space and make sure no one fell into either one of them. A few people bumped into his backpack before swerving around him and then Jarvis. Jarvis took the crutches from her, handing one to Aidan. Aidan’s heart thundered in his chest with fear, wanting to get out of the building faster but knowing he, and Jarvis more so, could never live with themselves if they abandoned her.

The last two flights felt as if they took an hour to traverse, but their efforts paid off with people slowing and going around them with more care.

Aidan noticed his armpits sweating as if he’d run a marathon and hoped he had remembered to wear deodorant today. How weird, he thought, to worry about body odor when he needed to concern himself with trying to survive.

At the bottom on the first floor, Jarvis held the door open for the crutches woman as she and Aidan got to the bottom. They emptied onto a side street to find the sidewalks bustling with people and the roads full of honking cars because traffic moved at too slow a pace.

“Thanks.” Tears welled in her eyes.

“You got someplace to go?” Jarvis asked.

Before she could answer, a group of girls raced over. “Penny!” two of them shouted in unison. Another grabbed her arm to lead her away with the group.

“Wait!” Aidan shouted after them. “Don’t forget these.” He held up one crutch as he took the other from Jarvis and handed them to one of the other women.

“Oh, yeah!” Penny smiled wearily. “Thanks again.”

Two of the women pulled Penny along, one explaining as they walked away, “We tried getting in, but too many people were streaming out.”

Jarvis tugged Aidan’s arm. “She said the alley, remember?”

“Penny?”

“No. Ellie. Focus.”

“Right. Alley. Fast.” A drip of sweat trickled down his side from his armpit.

Aidan stayed close behind Jarvis as they went as fast as possible through the people toward the corner. As with the staircase, people bunched onto the sidewalks going in every direction, most seeming to follow some decorum of not shoving into people or trying to harm their fellow humans, though Aidan spotted a few who pushed into folks and shoved through the crowd. Aidan had expected chaos and found, to his surprise, a more respectful atmosphere, unlike movie versions of panic where everyone trampled each other in a mad dash to save themselves. A few selfish jerks cared for no one else, but the majority attempted to survive with a certain amount of dignity.

Jarvis and Aidan rounded the street corner, a car horn blaring so loud Aidan’s ears hurt. Fewer people rushed along the side street, Aidan assumed because these roads did not lead to paths out of the city. A couple of yards ahead Aidan could see their next turn, free of cars, yet darker and narrower.

Proving, as always, how one must always listen to Ellie, Jarvis and Aidan sped into the alley to find a row of parked cars but a lane otherwise free of traffic. Up ahead, Aidan breathed a sigh of relief to see the red brake lights on an old black SUV.

“There!” Aidan pointed to the two-door SUV and ran forward, taking his turn to tug Jarvis along. Aidan yanked open the passenger door and threw in his backpack before jumping into the vehicle. After an awkward shove with his left foot against the door frame and hanging onto a seat belt with his right hand, he landed face-first in the back seat with his limbs flailing everywhere. By the time he faced forward, Jarvis sat in the passenger seat with his bag in his lap.

The minute Jarvis slammed the door shut Ellie revved the engine. “Fasten your seat belts,” she said, as if she were a flight attendant preparing for takeoff.

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NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Damian Serbu is an author of gay horror/speculative fiction. After over twenty years of teaching history at the collegiate level, he now writes full time. He lives in the Chicagoland area with his husband and two dogs.

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New Release Spotlight: You Make Me Feel by R.D. Airam

Title:  You Make Me Feel

Series: Love is Stronger, Book One

Author: R.D. Airam

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 07/21/2026

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 334

Genre: Contemporary, Romance, contemporary, family-drama, gay, mechanic, photographer, motorcycle club, singer, cross-dressing, long-distance relationship

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Description

Theo Lowe is a freelance photographer who agrees to face his fear of motorcycles and escape his hometown by hopping on the back of his best friend’s bike. Fate brings them to Kurt Hart who owns a garage in Santa Barbara.

Boredom brings Theo and Kurt together when they match on Grindr, even though the two men couldn’t be more different from each other. Theo’s life is in Sacramento, CA. He gets to spend a memorable summer with Kurt during which they learn how to deal with a long distance between them and their blooming relationship.

The strength of their new and fragile love is threatened when Theo is offered a once in a lifetime opportunity that will take him to Japan. Is their relationship doomed before it has even begun?

Excerpt

You Make Me Feel
R.D. Airam © 2026
All Rights Reserved
Chapter One

The salty smell of the ocean and the blue skies calmed Theo’s nerves somewhat from being on a motorcycle. He had always considered motorbikes to be unsafe and death traps, but in a desperate attempt to change the scenery and clear his mind, he’d accepted his best friend Valerie’s invitation for a road trip.

Theodore Lowe had befriended Valerie Carter in preschool, when she was the only kind child to him. Theo had always been extroverted and independent. He had never cared about anyone’s opinion regarding his choices in life.

At the age of five, he got into his mother’s drawers and chose a flowery dress, the tallest heels, and the bright-pink nail polish. The moment he clumsily painted his nails he knew this would become part of his daily attire at one point.

His love for vibrant colors and wearing clothes not designed for his gender had brought him tears and heartache during his teen years, but once he left all that behind and stepped into the world with his flame burning brightly, he was unstoppable.

Ree, as he loved to call Valerie, had stood by his side, sometimes acting as his personal bodyguard, other times as his cheerleader. But she was his biggest supporter in everything he did.

Theo’s love for photography made him stop Valerie several times during their trip so he could snap photos of the landscape and the sky. It was the best tactic to feel the ground under his feet for a few minutes.

He was relaxed enough to enjoy the beauty of the road they were speeding down toward Los Angeles. When Ree had suggested he should accompany her for one of her music gigs, Theo was all for it until he found out they were taking the bike. Only the idea of the beauty of their country and the photos he could get out of this adventure had convinced him to accept the invitation.

He also needed to get out of his head and away from Sacramento. After yet another failed attempt at finding a partner, Theo was excited about their trip. He planned on simply living in the moment during this vacation. For once, he didn’t want to find someone to spend the rest of his life with. He wanted to have fun.

They were in Santa Barbara, a couple of hours away from their destination, and Valerie reduced the speed considerably due to early evening traffic.

Theo became aware of how agitated his friend was. One of Ree’s legs was bouncing while her hands gripped the handlebars. It made him feel sick, because there had to be something wrong with the bike.

As she veered right, leaving US 101 behind, Theo noticed smoke coming from the engine. His grip on Valerie tightened, because he wasn’t sure what that meant.

Not long after, she stopped and shrugged him off before dismounting. Theo followed her, watching thick white smoke coming from the engine.

“Fuck,” she spat, taking her helmet off. She crouched to see the damage and Theo took a step back, pulling her with him.

“What if it catches fire?” he asked, trying to hide his anxiety.

“It won’t.” She stood and looked around. “Amazing…no one nearby.”

Theo pulled his phone out and googled “bike garage in the area.” He thumbed through the results, checking them on the map, until he found one not far from where they were.

“I found a garage. Let’s have it checked out,” he suggested.

Valerie nodded, handing him her helmet. “I’ll push. You tell me which way I go.”

“Isn’t it too heavy for you? I can help.”

Ree flipped her long black hair over her shoulder, looking offended. She was a five-foot-tall firecracker. She kicked the stand, then steered the bike ahead. Theo hurried after her, holding both their helmets against his chest while also keeping his eyes on the virtual map on his phone.

The ocean’s breeze helped with the heat, but the short walk to the garage felt like a long trek through the desert.

“There!” Theo shouted when he spotted the sign indicating the location to a building on the other side of the road.

Bike Doctors was a concrete structure with a large rolling door coiled up. There were several motorcycles parked outside, and a couple more inside the garage.

The crosswalk wasn’t far from where they were, but judging by the traffic, Theo expected they’d have to wait a while for someone to allow them to reach the other side. Of course, he tended to forget how confident and fearless Valerie was.

She pushed her bike on the crosswalk, steering it into the traffic. All incoming cars had to come to an abrupt halt so they wouldn’t crash into her.

“Jesus Christ, Ree! That car nearly ran into you,” Theo chided her, walking alongside her.

“But it didn’t.” She side-eyed him. “Trust me, Theo. I know how to handle situations like these when men tend to be dicks. I’m the main man in a man’s world.” She winked.

He laughed, shaking his head. “Whatever you say, honey.” Although he knew Valerie could take care of herself and that she was tough, Theo had always been protective of her. They had each other’s back. “What do you think happened?” He sensed his friend was calm enough to discuss her beloved bike.

“I just told you. They wouldn’t have driven over us.” She sounded somewhat aggravated.

He laughed. “No, I meant with the bike.”

“Oh.” She shrugged, struggling to veer right on the gravel in front of the garage. “I hope it’s not the engine.”

Two men came out of the garage, heading to their bikes, but they stopped when they noticed Theo and Valerie. The taller of the duo approached them. His bald head shone in the blazing sun and Theo tried not to laugh. He couldn’t imagine ever shaving his hair, unless he had some condition that required it. His hair was part of his personality, and its color often changed, but he had been platinum blond for the past half year.

“Hello! Can we help?” The bald man stopped by their side.

His friend approached slower, due to a limp in his leg. His Hispanic features were accentuated by the thick mop of black hair and the mustache and goatee combo. His dark eyes were sunken in, the wrinkles around them showing his age.

“Hi,” Valerie said, smiling. “I hope you guys aren’t closing. I need someone to check out my bike. It broke down a few minutes ago.”

“What happened?” The Hispanic man stopped on their other side, assessing the bike. “Engine failure?” he guessed. There was smoke still coming from the engine, but only thin clouds, unlike earlier.

“I hope not. I have to be in Los Angeles tonight.” Ree ran a hand through her hair.

“You’ll find Kurt inside. Unfortunately, we have to leave,” the bald man said in a hurry.

Theo thanked them as Valerie jerked her head toward the opened door of the garage.

The two men got on their bikes, as Valerie pushed her motorcycle up the path with Theo hot on her heels.

They stopped in the doorway, and Theo looked around, finding something about the place very aesthetically pleasing. There were two bike skeletons not far from them, an engine on a worktable, various parts on a bigger worktable, more tools hanging from the walls, and many oil and grease stains on the concrete floor.

Then the most attractive man Theo had ever seen came into their line of sight. He was tall, with his muscles defined and ripped. He was wearing a white tank top with grease stains on it, along with a pair of ripped blue jeans, also with stains on them. His hair, caught in a man bun, was the color of melted caramels.

Theo forgot how to breathe for a moment, and only a jab in the ribs from Valerie made him shake his head from daydreaming. Clearly, this fine specimen wasn’t gay. But Theo could dream, and it was such a beautiful vision of him bent over one of the worktables with the hunky man working him.

“Theo,” she hissed, stepping on his foot.

He winced, but there was no time to explain why he was acting like a lovestruck tool.

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NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

R.D. Airam has always loved creating alternative endings to her favorite books which soon turned into writing her own stories. Her dream has always been to become a published author and share the worlds living rent-free in her mind with readers around the world. The author is currently working on the next installments of the Love Is Stronger series, You Make Me Feel being the first book.

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Book Spotlight: A Fragile Spell by T.M. Kirk

Title: A fragile Spell

Series: Magical Mishaps, Book One

Author: T. M. Kirk

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 02/17/2026

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 226

Genre: Paranormal Fantasy, FF romance, witches, magic/magic users, artist, glassblower, businessperson, Oregon Coast

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Description

Sangria Christmas Lewis, or “Ria” to literally everyone except her mom, never wanted to be a witch. So when she gets fired from her dream job in marketing and is forced to move back home to Seacliff, she’s less than thrilled. That is, until she gets the idea to offer destiny love spells online: marketing and magic combined. If only she hadn’t screwed up her first spell and made her client fall in love with her. That’s what a witch gets when they abandon their magic for years though.

The small coastal town of Seacliff has captivated the heart of glassblower Lissa Parker. Unfortunately, the marketing company her studio hired to save their failing business dropped them days before they were supposed to launch a secret campaign. With six months to save her studio, Lissa considers it fate that she stumbles across a woman she recognizes from the marketing company. The fact that the woman claims to be a witch only adds to her curiosity. How exactly does one go from marketing to magic?

Lissa needs to find out what Ria knows about her old company's secret marketing campaign so she can save her studio. And Ria needs to figure out how to remove the love spell from her first-ever client. Both women need to learn how to stop keeping secrets and embrace the passion they can’t help but feel for each other.

Excerpt

A Fragile Spell

T.M. Kirk © 2026

All Rights Reserved

Chapter One

Ria

“You’re fired.”

Ria blinked at the curmudgeon across the desk from her. A jaunty rendition of “Jingle Bells” was blaring throughout the office, so perhaps she hadn’t heard her boss correctly.

“I’m sorry,” she replied, “but I don’t quite understand. Could you repeat that?”

Frank Mercer furrowed his already profusely wrinkled brow. “Apologies. You’re right. That damn memo just went out last week too. What was I supposed to say?”

He tapped a finger on his desk, his yellowed nails strangely longer than even Ria’s. She focused on that gnarled old finger as if her fate lingered in the milliseconds between each tap. The blinking glow from the red and green lights hanging outside his office cast his face into a disturbing contrast of holiday cheer and demonic horror, each tap coinciding with a shift in color.

Flash of green. Happy Holidays.

Flash of red. Steal your soul.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Flash. Flash. Flash.

Her own fingers itched to give a little flick toward Frank. Nothing major, just a tiny little spell to nudge his brain toward whatever he’d actually meant to say. Surely he couldn’t be firing her. Nobody fired a person in the middle of the office holiday party. Not even the Grinch was that callous.

She twisted a finger through one of her long red curls as the itch in her hand grew stronger the longer her boss appeared to war with himself on word choice. She might have given in if it weren’t for the firm knowledge that handcast spells were not her forte. More often than not, they went horribly wrong. Handcasting was a “use it or lose it” type of magic, and Ria locked herself on the “lose it” track years ago. Right about the time she joined Mercer Marketing and put her witchy ways in the past. Potions were pretty much the only thing she could manage these days, since those were only a slight step beyond basic science, but she didn’t exactly carry little vials of revenge in the pockets of her pencil skirt.

“Oh, right,” Mr. Mercer finally said. “Now I remember. You’re not fired.”

Ria breathed an audible sigh of relief.

“We’re letting you go.”

Ria sucked every last bit of oxygen back into her lungs. “You’re doing what?” she protested, still unable to fathom the words she was hearing. “But it’s Christmas, sir!”

“Oh, we don’t say that anymore either. It’s ‘the holiday season’ now.”

That’s what he was focusing on?

“But it’s the holiday season, sir!” she shot back.

“Yes, yes, I understand it’s in poor taste to let someone go around this time of year, but the reality is that the world is changing, Miss Lewis. Big marketing firms like ours are losing out to these new young influencers. They’re cheaper and will shill anything for a few bucks. We have to cut costs, and unfortunately, that comes in the way of junior marketing agents like yourself.”

Of course she would be the one on the chopping block. She was just the person who did all the work for none of the credit. That alone should have been enough to have her shouting at Frank about how stupid and short-minded he was being. She willed herself to find that inferno deep within, the anger she knew existed at least a little bit even if it rarely came out. If she was going to be fired, then surely this was the time to tell her wretched little goblin of a boss exactly what she thought of him.

“But sir… I’ve been here almost five years.” Her words came out meek and pathetic. So much for the inferno. She’d summoned less fire than a matchstick in a windstorm.

“Almost being the keyword,” Mr. Mercer replied.

Almost. Ria turned the word over in her head. Why would almost matter… Then it hit her.

“Are you telling me I won’t get any severance pay?”

He didn’t even look the slightest bit ashamed. “Severance is only available after five years of employment,” he replied. “I’m afraid the holiday bonus is also only available to those still employed as of the December twentieth paycheck.”

Ria’s eyes flickered to the calendar on the wall behind her boss. December nineteenth. No severance. No holiday bonus. She was completely and utterly screwed.

Mr. Mercer reached into a drawer, then slid an envelope across the desk. “You’ll find Mercer Marketing isn’t completely without heart though. There’s a little something in here as a thank you for your years of loyal service.”

She glanced down at the envelope, at the handful of visible words peeking through the little plastic window.

Sangria Christmas Lewis

Termination Notice

She had been holding onto a tiny sliver of hope that everything was some huge mistake. Frank Mercer barely knew her name after all. She was just Jim Ginatti’s assistant. Maybe he confused her with some other low-level employee. One who didn’t single-handedly design and execute over forty successful marketing campaigns in only five years.

Seeing her name on that slip of paper, though, popped the hopeful balloon inside her, leaving only the tattered remains of a long-held dream. When she’d gotten the call to report to Mr. Mercer’s office, she’d thought it was for a promotion. She’d assumed Jim finally told everyone how she was the real brains behind his success, and she was about to get some much-deserved recognition along with a pay increase. Something she desperately needed, given her current situation.

Instead, she got fired. No, not fired. “Let go.” As if the softer verbiage in turn somehow softened the blow. One would think a marketing firm could have been a little more creative. Knowing they would suffer without her ingenious ideas did little to improve her mood though.

“What about my clients?” She had just put the finishing touches on a campaign that would catapult a small business in her hometown into a whole new level of growth. Without her there to implement it…

“Jim has your files and will handle everything,” Mr. Mercer replied. “All the worthwhile clients will be assured of their continued representation. We will ensure the transition is seamless.”

Nodding, she took the envelope and rose from the chair on unsteady legs. It killed her to think she wouldn’t be around to see her hard work pay off, but as long as Jim followed her plan, the campaign would still be effective. A small consolation, but something to cling to when she had nothing else.

Don’t slink away, a little voice in the back of her head whispered. Make a scene. This asshole ruined your life.

She lingered in front of Mr. Mercer’s desk, debating.

Don’t do anything irrational, another voice whispered. You’ll need to get a good job reference at least.

Frank steepled his hands and eyed her warily. “Once again, Miss Lewis, I do apologize for the timing of this news. Based on your middle name, I’m sure the holidays are something you find much joy in. Perhaps embracing that will help soothe some of the sting.”

It wouldn’t. In fact, Ria hated Christmas. Despite her mother’s frequent declarations that it was truly the most wonderful time of the year, Ria found the pressure to be cheery and bright far too overwhelming. An opinion currently being cemented as she warred with the decision to ease out of her old life quietly or go down swinging.

Cast a spell, that naughty voice urged. Who cares if it goes wrong? Make his hideous crook nose even larger.

Her fingers tingled again, like tiny little pinpricks under the skin.

You don’t cast anymore, the other, more rational, voice protested. Keep your dignity and exit gracefully.

“Now, if you don’t mind,” Mr. Mercer said, nodding toward the door, “please clean out your desk quietly and efficiently. I do have other matters to attend to.”

He waved his hand in a clear dismissal, and it was that small gesture that snapped something inside her. Five years of hard work reduced to a simple flick of the wrist.

“You know what, Mr. Mercer?” she said, the spark inside her growing, her rage finally begging to be unleashed.

“What, Miss Lewis?”

The words hovered on the tip of her tongue. All the things she could finally say. She could tell him he was making the biggest mistake of his life. She could tell him his company would crash and burn without her doing all the work of three executives. She could tell him he smelled like moldy brie, and people took a roundabout way to the break room just to avoid the stench from passing his office.

In the end, the fire blazing in her green eyes fizzled out. She wasn’t a fighter and would never be the type to make waves.

“Happy holidays,” she said meekly, her shoulders drooping in disappointment that she couldn’t even manage a simple “Screw you.”

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NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

T. M. Kirk is the author of the fantasy romance Onyx Palace series as well as the paranormal rom-com Don’t Bite Me series. Originally from Alaska, she is a rolling stone constantly on the move, eternally searching for that perfect place to call home. Currently residing in California with her partner and two fur babies, her days are spent riding her motorcycle, traveling to new places, and creating fantasy and paranormal worlds as a much needed escape from reality.

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