Showing posts with label Angels. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Angels. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 5, 2025

November Author of the Month is....Elizabeth Briggs

 ** Special Note: Elizabeth Briggs is battling Cancer and is now in hospice at home. Please check out her books here and on her website as she is a wonderful storyteller and her books are in Kindle Unlimited if you have it. She posted an update on her cancer battle HERE on facebook.**



My Author of the Month for November is...Elizabeth Briggs. 


Check out their Author of the Month page HERE.


I hope you can check out her website, books and help support this author and her family during this trying time.




Thursday, December 22, 2022

New Release Spotlight/Giveaway: Stone and Chains by Aurelia T. Evans

Stone & Chains by Aurelia T. Evans

Book 1 in the Meridian series

Word Count: 86,428
Book Length: SUPER NOVEL
Pages: 313

Genres:

ACTION AND ADVENTURE
ANGELS AND DEMONS
BONDAGE AND BDSM
CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
FANTASY
PARANORMAL

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Book Description


The fates of an angel’s daughter, a reformed gargoyle and an unrepentant incubus are bound together in a city where a deadly demon is rising.

Abby Stone, a night-shift nurse with healing powers and a secret demon-hunting habit, has been saving victims of demons and their cults ever since she left home to search for her father—an angel turned to stone and trapped in the mystical hotspot of Meridian.

As Abby starts making an unwelcome name for herself in all the local demon haunts, she crosses paths with earnest ex-demon Zekiel, a gargoyle who fights against evil for his redemption, and charming incubus Charles, who calls her nephil offspring—daughter of an angel who has fallen.

Charles’ attempts to convince her that she’s meant to be a demon confuse and infuriate her, but now that an incubus has set his sights on Abby, there’s no denying how tempting he is—and how dangerous.

In the meantime, with a demon prince’s ascension rattling the city of stone and chains, Abby could stand for things to be a little less interesting.

Reader advisory: This book contains BDSM sessions with beating and humiliation, MM interaction, child endangerment, scenes of bloody violence, and sexual coercion.

Excerpt

Abby closed the book, glancing between her two charges. “I think that’s all for now. I’ll be back on Wednesday for chapter four. That’ll be exciting, won’t it?”

There wasn’t enough tea in the world to get her through reading aloud another two chapters, although she loved the young adult fantasy series and wished she could read it forever. Her charges, about the same age as Abby herself, never complained that they were too old for the reading material.

Abby smiled and patted the two hospital beds on either side of her. Two young women—one of them quite pregnant—reclined supine, their monitors beeping softly in a steady rhythm. Neither of them could tell her if they enjoyed the books, but it wasn’t about the stories so much as the women knowing someone was there to do more than give them sponge baths and prevent bed sores.

The pregnant woman’s baby was getting more human care than the woman herself, out of the belief that Maggie wasn’t really there anymore after the car accident that had put her in the extended care ward. Then there was Kara on Abby’s right, who had simply lost consciousness one day and never awakened, cause unknown.

Coma patients still experienced the world around them, just not in the same way that they did when conscious or even when asleep. Like infants in the womb, the lost sometimes remembered it like the shadow of a dream, but it was still something. They knew the difference between caring and concern versus the cold, clinical indifference and abandonment they often experienced in a hospital environment. Just as most people didn’t like the reminder of mortality from the elderly, they didn’t like the stark blankness of the comatose.

But Abby felt their presence in the way some sensed the passing of a ghost—except she experienced it as warmth on the back of her neck instead of a chill. And that warmth was the reason she came to the hospital several times a week in the middle of the night to read to her two friends, although they’d never formally met.

No handsome doctor was going to wake them up with a kiss. All they could really depend on within the mortal realm was divine intervention and an overworked, underpaid woman who wanted to give them some kind of connection, even though she couldn’t help them any more than that.

Abby was tired, always tired, pulled between day life and the night shift, making money and helping people. There weren’t nearly enough hours in the day for everything she needed to do, so she depended far too often on free coffee refills in twenty-four-hour restaurants. There were other things more important to her than sleep, and it was easier to get out of the house more often when her bedroom—which was actually just the storage closet under the stairs—barely held the bed, and she shared living space with two other girls who didn’t share her hours.

Still, life could be so much worse. She could be trapped in her own head like Kara and Maggie. Abby tried never to forget what she’d been blessed with. She’d been born with so many gifts, gifts she couldn’t keep to herself, even if she tried. Volunteer hours and night shifts meant she didn’t have much of a life, but Abby could live with that if she could give other people the life she didn’t allow herself.

And here in Meridian, she felt like she could finally put down some roots after these last two years of seemingly aimless wandering from city to city.

She felt like she might have finally found what she’d been looking for.

“Life could be worse,” Abby whispered into Kara’s ear before kissing her cheek. Kara’s skin was cold from the hospital air, but underneath the surface was the heat of life, and within that life, there was still hope.

She sent that hope to Maggie as well, and to Maggie’s eight-month pregnant belly and the baby within. “Stay safe.”

Abby carried mace and a switchblade in her purse to go to and from her night shift at the Cemetery Grove clinic downtown, but just because Kara and Maggie were in a bright hospital ward and supervised by security cameras didn’t mean that they were safe, even if the only thing they weren’t safe from was their own minds—what dreams and nightmares haunted them, the kind of horrors that machines couldn’t measure.

Buy Links

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First For Romance

About the Author

Aurelia T. Evans

Aurelia T. Evans is an up-and-coming erotica author with a penchant for horror and the supernatural.

She’s the twisted mind behind the werewolf/shifter Sanctuary trilogy, demonic circus series Arcanium, and vampire serial Bloodbound. She’s also had short stories featured in various erotic anthologies.

Aurelia presently lives in Dallas, Texas (although she doesn’t ride horses or wear hats). She loves cats and enjoys baking as much as she dislikes cooking. She’s a walker, not a runner, and she writes outside as often as possible.

Giveaway

Enter for the chance to win a $50.00 First for Romance Gift Card! Competition hosted by Totally Entwined Group. 


Thursday, September 1, 2022

New release Spotlight: Paleem's River Hag

River Hag by Pelaam

Book 5 in the The Devil's in the Details series

General Release Date: 30th August 2022

Word Count: 32,322
Book Length: SHORT NOVEL
Pages: 137

Genres:

ANGELS AND DEMONS
CONTEMPORARY
GAY
GLBTQI
PARANORMAL

Add to Goodreads

Book Description

Sometimes, a friend in need can be deadly in deed.

Keegan has an abusive stepfather, Frank, and is bullied at college. He dodges bullies, led by Owen, by hiding close to the river. He tells his friend about the attacks and his narrow escape. The next day in college, pondweed is found in Owen’s locker, and he blames Keegan. The pondweed is sent to John Bull, and on examination is found to have a paranormal resonance, so he sends Emery, Alex and Kadin to investigate.

When Owen is found drowned in a bathtub, secured with pondweed, the team believe they’re dealing with a grindylow—a river hag. They need to establish whether the creature is acting for its own ends or at someone’s direction. Circumstances point to Keegan, but the team can’t find the connection and feel time is running out.

The next victim is Keegan’s stepfather, and with Keegan missing, Kadin decides to try to communicate with his spirit. He learns that the grindylow is protecting Keegan, but the team know that its nature means that Bo, now Keegan’s lover, will be the next victim.

But first, they need to find Keegan.

Reader advisory: This book portrays the deaths of two secondary characters.

Excerpt

From his bedroom doorway, Keegan winced as he listened to his mother and stepfather argue. He hoped it didn’t end as so many of them had before, with his mother sporting a new bruise and claiming she’d walked into a door, tripped and fallen or inadvertently punched herself when changing the duvet.

The rows had increased in frequency and intensity over the last couple of years. He wants me out of the house, but I didn’t get the qualifications I needed to go to uni. I spent too much time babysitting. At least with my brother Jonnie now being at school, he doesn’t have to see or hear this.

“He needs a fucking job, not this stupid college thing.” Frank’s voice boomed up the stairs, and Keegan cringed closer to the doorframe.

Getting into college had been his one saving hope. That by studying there, he’d upgrade his qualifications enough to secure a place in university. But the college was no haven. The class bully had found Keegan to be a suitable victim, and his life there was being made a misery. And that homophobic prick of a principal has done nothing to stop it.

“He’s been bullied.” Keegan’s mother’s voice was starting to waiver, and Keegan clenched his hands into fists.

“Then he needs to be a man and deal with it, not run and hide behind you. Pathetic little pansy. You’ve made him soft.”

That was the last straw. Keegan ran down the stairs and into the living room.

“Don’t you dare diss my mother.” Anger sizzled through Keegan’s veins, even though Frank had several inches and almost a hundred pounds on him.

“Well, maybe if you were as quick to defend yourself, you wouldn’t get bullied.” Frank stuck his meaty fists onto his hips. “She says you’re taking a mental health day. Well, fuck that. Either you go to that college like you’re meant to or you drop out and find somewhere else to live. I’m not having a freeloader living here. I work, she works and either you study and move out or quit and move out. I don’t care which.”

“It’s too late to go in now, and the college allows students to take odd days off, so there’s no issue with today. I’ll be back there tomorrow, and as soon as I can, I’ll be out of here.”

“Keegan, no.” His mother looked devastated, and he hurried to clasp her hands, leaning in to whisper in her ear.

“And as soon as I have somewhere settled, you and Jonnie are coming to live with me. Don’t think his fists will stop at you. You have to think of Jonnie.”

“Why don’t you go out for a nice walk by the river?” Ellie smiled at him, even if her lips trembled. “There are fixings for sandwiches in the fridge and a couple of cans of soda. Maybe some friends will join you after class.”

“Too fucking soft.” Frank scowled as he pushed his way past Keegan and his mother, and Keegan let out a silent sigh of relief.

“Go. Hurry.” Ellie jerked her head toward the kitchen and moved as if to shield him from Frank’s view.

It didn’t take Keegan long to make up a set of cheese and pickle sandwiches for himself and some tuna ones in a separate wrapper. Adding a packet of chips and a can of soda to each, he bundled them up securely

Keegan packed the two separate sets of food into a rucksack and went out through the kitchen door. The last thing he needed was to run into his stepfather again. Keegan didn’t have to think where he could go. He already had a favorite part of the river.

This wasn’t the part of the wall and river that tourists frequented. It was in a quiet and secluded area. There was a secondary trail worn where people had left the main pathway and which disappeared into a mix of undergrowth and trees that overhung the river.

After a few minutes of determined ducking and weaving, Keegan emerged at a comfortable place to sit, hidden from the walkers along the top of the wall and from the few equally dogged fishermen who lined the riverbank.

Several meters to his left was a thick overhang of trees, impossible to penetrate, but Keegan gave a whistle, which was answered a moment later.

“Hi, Ginny. How are you, today?” Keegan settled down and dug into his rucksack.

“Very well. I didn’t expect you.” The voice was soft and slightly accented, and Keegan sighed.

“Yeah, well. I should be in college, but I took the day off. There’s a class bully who has decided I’m fair game, and I just couldn’t handle it today. Here… I made you up a snack pack.” Keegan tossed the well-packed tuna sandwiches, chips and drink over the impenetrable foliage.

The rustling noise confirmed that Ginny had it, and he chuckled softly at the rapid crunching noises.

“You really like chips. You can have mine, too. The sandwiches will be enough for me.”

“Chips are good.” There was a suitable pause before the crunching resumed.

“You know, we’ve talked for a long time. It’s nice to have a friend I can chat with. I wish you didn’t keep your distance, though.” Keegan peered into the bushes, but it was impossible for him to see through to the other side. “I wish you didn’t have to live this way.”

“I’m not like you.” Ginny finally whispered. “I don’t want you to not talk to me anymore.”

“Why would I do that? Because you’re homeless and live rough? That doesn’t bother me.”

“Tell me about this bully.” Ginny spoke the word as if it were unfamiliar, and Keegan took a bite from his sandwich while he considered her request.

“Usual story… He’s big and brash, has a couple of sycophants who hang off his every cruel word and mean joke. Look… You have your secret about living here, and I have mine. I’m gay. I like boys. I always have. There was never a time when I wanted a girlfriend. Do you still want to be my friend?”

“Yes. Boy, girl, all the same. No difference.”

“I’m glad to hear you say so. There are a lot of people who wouldn’t agree with that sentiment at all. Well, anyway, Owen found out I was gay. He has left stuff in my locker, on my desk and would have probably given me a beating on one occasion if one of the other students hadn’t noticed something going on and come over to investigate.”

“Hurt you?” Ginny’s voice grew sharper, and Keegan shivered as a cool breeze disturbed the normal sheltered aspect of his hiding place.

“Don’t worry. He didn’t.” Not yet anyway. Keegan had no illusions that while Owen remained at the college, there would inevitably be a confrontation. But I need this course to get to uni. Better to go as a mature student than to never go at all.

“He shouldn’t hurt you.” Ginny stated firmly.

“No, he shouldn’t, and neither should anyone else, but haters gotta hate. Maybe someday they’ll see that the color of your skin, or who you love, doesn’t make you any more or less human. We’re all equal. All the same.”

“Same.” Ginny echoed the word, then fell silent. “Someone’s coming.”

Almost as soon as Ginny had spoken, Keegan heard indistinct voices. No one comes down here. Unless you know about it, there’s no way to see any of this from up on the wall. Then Keegan’s blood ran cold.

“You sure this is where he comes?” Owen’s voice boomed out, filled with anger and irritation. “There’s nothing here. Nowhere he could go.”

“This is where I was told he came.”

Keegan recognized the second voice as one of Owen’s hangers-on and groaned softly.

“Ginny, it’s Owen, the bully I told you about. He’s looking for me.”

“For you?” Ginny whispered. “Stay still. Say nothing.”

“I can’t risk it.” Keegan tugged on his beanie, tucking his distinctive auburn waves inside it. “I don’t want him coming down here. I don’t want him to find out about you and that this is where you live. It would never be the same again or safe for you.”

“You’re willing to protect me?” Ginny’s voice sounded so much like a lost child’s that Keegan’s heart ached for her.

“Yes, I would. Now you stay here.”

“No. You stay.” Ginny’s sharp hiss surprised Keegan, but it did the trick. Halfway to his feet, Keegan dropped back onto his ass with a muted grunt.

“What are you doing?” he asked, but there was only the rustle of foliage as Ginny moved. “Ginny!” Keegan whispered a little louder then fell silent at the approaching crunch of booted feet on resilient foliage.

“He’s not gonna walk along this. It’s too difficult for a fag like him.” Owen‘s increasingly irritated voice was gut-churningly close, and Keegan held his breath, turning his face to hide it.

“Maybe he walks along the bank, then.” Another voice. “There may be a niche down there. After all, the fishermen go there.”

“He probably tries to pick them up.” Owen’s callous sneer jabbed into Keegan’s heart.

Better he thinks that than tries to come this way. There’s no escape if he finds me. And no one would know my body was here except Ginny. Who’d believe her over Owen and his gang? Even if she dared to report it to the police.

Keegan’s increasingly dark thoughts were disrupted by another shout from Owen. He held his breath, hoping that his choice of drab colors for clothing worked their usual magic and let him go unnoticed.

“What’s that? I thought I saw something…in the water.”

“I can only see weeds. The river’s really dingy down here. Can’t imagine anyone fishing in this.” A third voice responded to Owen. “It’s slippery. Watch out!”

Even as they called out, there was a splash, followed by Owen’s loud cursing.

“Don’t fucking stand there gawping. Get me out. Fucking weeds are everywhere. I’m fucking soaked. My trainers will be ruined, and they cost a packet. Dad’ll be furious.”

“You can come back to my place.” The second voice offered. “Dry off there. We’ll come up with some excuse for what happened.”

“Yeah.” The third voice added. “A good reason why you’d be near to water.”

The voices grew fainter, and Keegan began to breathe easier. Then Ginny’s voice startled him, coming from the right rather than the usual left.

“They’ve gone now. It’s safe for you to finish eating.”

“Thanks, Ginny. I need a minute or two to calm down. I thought he had me, then.” Keegan opened his soda and took a couple of deep swallows, before setting it down again. “Thank goodness Owen slipped into the river.” Keegan could help but giggle. “Serves him right.”

“Eat.” Ginny insisted, and Keegan drew out his sandwiches and ate them, realizing just how hungry he was once he’d started.

“Sorry. I haven’t been much company today, thanks to Owen’s unwanted visit. It’ll be better next time.” Keegan stood and brushed off the breadcrumbs decorating his gray hoodie. “I don’t think Owen will come back here after his dip in the river.”

“He won’t be back.” Ginny sounded so assured that Keegan smiled.

“You saw him fall in, didn’t you?” he chuckled. “Wish I could have seen it, too. But I needed to make sure he didn’t spot me or find out about our little sanctuary.”

“Sanctuary?” Ginny asked and Keegan nodded, unsure of whether she could see him or not.

“Somewhere I can come and feel safe, be myself now you know I’m gay. Well, I’d better go. I have homework to do, and I want to read up on a few things to be ready for my class tomorrow.”

Keegan dodged his way through the foliage and was just in time to see Ginny duck behind one of the thicker trees beside the riverbank. Fuck, that sludgy-green blanket she has looks disgusting. Maybe I can bring her a new one—even some of my old T-shirts.

“I’ll see you soon, Ginny.” Keegan waved toward the tree as he made his way up to the wall.”

“Soon.” Ginny called after him, but when he glanced back, there was no sign of her—just the foliage, the river and the weeds that floated in its center.

Buy Links

Choose Your Store
First For Romance

About the Author

Pelaam

Living in clean, green New Zealand, Pelaam is a multi-published author of gay romance and erotica. When not working at writing, Pelaam likes to indulge in her other passions of cookery and wine appreciation.

Giveaway

Enter for the chance to win a $50.00 First for Romance Gift Card! Competition hosted by Totally Entwined Group. 

 a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

Tuesday, June 28, 2022

New Release Spotlights: Red on the River by Chistine Feehan and Harmony of Fire by Brian Feehan

 Check out the newest book below from NYT author Christine Feehan and debut book by her son, Brian Feehan that are OUT today!!! Paranormal at its best and the perfect summer beach read! Berkley is thrilled to announce the second generation of Feehan with a riveting new paranormal romance that adds a fresh voice to the genre and a fascinating take on angel mythology, and Christine’s latest sexy, standalone romantic thriller will be sure to keep readers glued to the page as well.



DEBUT AUTHOR RELEASE!!!

HARMONY OF FIRE by Brian Feehan (Berkley Mass Market; June 28, 2022) 
Buy at Amazon


Debut author Brian Feehan, son of #1 New York Times bestselling author Christine Feehan, delivers an electric paranormal romance novel, HARMONY OF FIRE. Brian adds a gripping new voice to the genre and explores a fascinating take on angel mythology which will appeal to fans of Laurell K. Hamilton and Patricia Briggs. New York Times bestselling author Anne Elizabeth calls the novel, “hauntingly compelling, uniquely lyrical, and intensely memorable.

 

The story follows Owen, a musician running from his past and trying to keep his people safe from the Hunters who would destroy them. Alice is one such hunter hell-bent on revenge and willing to take down anyone in her path. They are both Etherealists, rare humans born with magic and a target for the We, beings who existed long before humans and feed off Etherealist power. When their paths explosively collide, Alice and Owen are unable to ignore the undeniable chemistry between them—even with the dangers coming at them from all sides.



RED ON THE RIVER by Christine Feehan (Berkley Hardcover; June 28, 2022) 

Buy at Amazon


#1 New York Times bestselling author Christine Feehan delivers another pulse-pounding, sexy romantic thriller this summer, in which a high-stakes gambler will have to use all the luck at her disposal to outrun a killer in the Neon Capital of the World.

 

Set in Nevada’s breathtaking landscape, the story follow Vienna Mortenson after she is invited to a prestigious poker game with some of the world’s best players. With an intuition that borders on psychic, she prefers to stay under the radar and keep her wins anonymous, but she is suddenly thrust into the limelight when her winnings garner national attention and puts a target on her back. With the help of the mysterious and alluring Zale Vizzini, a man with whom Vienna had an unforgettable few weeks before he disappeared from her life completely, Vienna will have to unmask a deadly enemy if she has any hope of making it out of Nevada alive. A starred review from Publishers Weekly raves, “Feehan continually ratchets up the breathless danger and sexual tension…This dazzling thrill-ride proves impossible to put down.


About the Authors


Christine Feehan is the #1 New York Times bestselling author of many novels, including the Carpathian series, the GhostWalker series, the Leopard series, the Torpedo Ink series, and the Shadow Riders series. Learn more online at christinefeehan.com.

 

Brian Feehan lives in his mind, creating vibrant characters who talk very loudly and far too often. He lives in the northern coast of California with his wife and son. Brian is fascinated by both the written word and learning new subjects. He is always up for a laugh, a game, or a drink with friends and family. Harmony of Fire is his debut novel. Learn more online at brianfeehanauthor.com.

 

Friday, December 31, 2021

New Release Spotlight/GIVEAWAY: Fallen Angel

Fallen Angel by Katy Hunter

Book 2 in the Half Blood series

Word Count: 17,268
Book Length: NOVELLA
Pages: 83
Heat Rating: Sizzling

Genres:

ANGELS AND DEMONS
BONDAGE AND BDSM
CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
MÉNAGE AND MULTIPLE PARTNERS
PARANORMAL

Add to Goodreads

Book Description

We all have our demons, but some women have a warlock and an angel too…

Cal’s really not having a good day.

She convinced her lovers, Travis and Max, to leave their safe house in Montana and fly over to Budapest to save someone, but it was a trap.

And her relationships haven’t exactly been harmonious since Max found a new lover and Travis got a little too hot and heavy in the bedroom.

Now she’s tied up, she’s only got a handsome, weakened angel for company and she needs all her energy to defeat Seth Shaw once again.

Can Cal summon her lovers, escape from her binds and fix her love life before she comes face to face with her nemesis—or has this angel fallen for good?

Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of violence.

Excerpt

I squirmed as Max traced the feather across my chest, brushing it between my trussed-up breasts and down to my crotch. He stopped short of my pubic area, apparently deciding instead to skip the interesting bit and trail it up my inner thigh instead.

Cheeky bastard.

I couldn’t see it, my head down, my hands bound, but he had to have that satisfied smirk on his face—the one that said he was in charge.

Damn it and him. I hated it, but I loved it too—playing, teasing, longing. It was what kept our love life from tipping over into domestic boredom. I knew that. I knew why we’d set up the damn swing in the first place.

It’d be worth it. Of course it would. The man was a maestro. But, God, the frustration was killing me. I needed to come.

I closed my eyes, concentrated hard on Max’s body and zeroed in on his dick, already hard and ready for me. I swirled my tongue around my mouth, opened my lips…

“What the fu…Cal? When did you learn to do that?”

“I’ve been practicing,” I replied, losing my concentration for a second.

“Well, stop. It’s weird. Hot, but weird. Damn.”

I let out a throaty giggle. “Stop teasing me then.”

“That’s half the fun,” he murmured, slowing it right down.

I inhaled, taking in as much of him as my astrally projected mouth could manage.

“Okay, okay. Damn, you’re going to make me come, and I haven’t even started yet.”

The crank clicked, tick, tick, tick, as he lowered me down to his level. The feather gone, and I felt the soft touch of his favorite flogger circling my butt.

“Spanking?”

“Well, you don’t seem to want to behave today.”

A shot of adrenaline ran up my body simply at the idea of it. It wouldn’t hurt, not hurt hurt.

Max had gone soft since the three of us had moved there and fallen more in love. The days of using my safeword were gone. Ever since the incident where Travis and I had nearly died, Max had become wary of our pain. It no longer brought him joy—not in that way.

He gripped my thigh with one hand, swung my prostate body toward him and rested just the very tip of his cock against my core. The warm sensation of his tongue swirled around my clit.

“How…?”

He paused. “Two can play at your game,” he whispered, licking his lips and getting back to what he was best at.

Slowly, sweetly, he sucked and nibbled at me, entering me as I warmed for him. The ends of the flogger brushed across my butt as he filled me. Tickling… Caressing…

I let out a gasp as he thrust into me, propelling me forward, only to swing me back onto him. The flogger slapped down onto my cheek, the sting bursting through my body. “Yes!”

“Quiet,” he whispered once again, the individual strands of leather tracing their way up my spine.

I writhed underneath him, fighting against the restraints at my wrists, desperate to touch him, to feel his hard, smooth body as he pummeled into me, bringing me closer and closer.

“Please,” I begged, desperate for release. Once again, the sensation of his tongue hit my clit…frenzied, slapdash.

My ass cheeks stung as he thwacked them once again—one side, then the other, then the first again. I threw my head back and came on his cock as he filled me, clenching tightly as I trembled and shook beneath him.

“Fuck, Cal.” The flogger clattered to the ground as he grasped the chains, holding me to him, his legs giving way. I would never tire of the thrill of bringing this strong, confident man to his knees.

Buy Links

Choose Your Store
First For Romance

About the Author

Katherine E Hunt

Katy Hunter lives on a mountain in France with her husband, kids and two dogs.

When she's not writing you can find her curled up in front of the fire, book in one hand and a glass of chardonnay in the other.

Follow Katy on Instagram and sign up to her Facebook reader's group. You can also find her on Facebook and follow her on Twitter

Giveaway

Enter for the chance to win a $50.00 First for Romance Gift Card! Competition hosted by Totally Entwined Group.  

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

Wednesday, October 27, 2021

New Release Spotlight: Dream Demon #PridePublishing #Giveaway

Dream Demon By Samantha Cayto

General Release Date: 26th October 2021

Word Count: 33,173
Book Length: SHORT NOVEL
Pages: 123

Genres:

ANGELS AND DEMONS
BONDAGE AND BDSM
CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
GAY
GLBTQI
HALLOWEEN

Add to Goodreads

Book Description

Sometimes nightmares turn into dreams come true.

Colby is new to the BDSM scene and longs for a Master to take control and show him the pleasure that can be found in pain. When he receives a Halloween invitation to play from a mysterious man, he takes the risk of delving into an unknown world.

Sebastian is a blood demon masquerading as a human Dom. Unlike others of his kind, he strives to fill his need ethically instead of preying on humans. He seeks consent to satisfy his urges and knows how to woo Colby with patience. The only thing he fears is whether or not his new sub will be able to accept him as he truly is.

Trusting Sebastian is easy, even as Colby’s dreams are plagued by an unknown shadow that attracts him as much as it scares him. Sebastian needs to build trust before revealing his true nature. He thinks he has all the time he wants, but he’s about to learn that even demons cannot control their fate.

Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of blood, pain and wax play.

Excerpt

The creature gained on him. As Colby dashed through the winding, narrow alleys, the sound of the steady, measured steps behind him grew louder. No matter how fast he ran, his heart thumping, his breath labored, his pursuer grew closer, not farther away. He bit back a whimper, determined not to show the terror that wanted to scream out. There was nowhere to escape to, no end to the twisting path he traveled. He would not make it. He would be caught. Then what? A shiver racked his body. Pain with a hit of pleasure weaved within. That reaction scared him more than anything else. He strained to run faster. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up as hot breath wafted over him. The scent of it should have been repulsive, fetid and evil, yet it wasn’t. It smelled exotic, like toasted spices for mulled wine. Instead of shivering with fear, he felt almost cocooned in some safe, warm place—with a spike of arousal. It made no sense.

What is wrong with me?

Colby bolted up into a sitting position, his breath caught and pain lanced through his chest. His heart pounded in a skipping tattoo that scared him into thinking he might be having a heart attack. He rubbed his palm over his sweat-coated pec and tried to rein in his breathing. Just a dream. Just a dream. That reassurance wasn’t enough to calm his body. Logic and truth be damned. The dream had felt so real and vivid, both the fright and the excitement. The evidence of the conflicting effects was on display. Below his ribcage against which his heart knocked, the twisted bedsheet was tented by his cock. That was nothing new. It was how he woke every morning—hard. But he wasn’t usually so achingly so, his balls cramping with the need for release.

Instead of waiting to deal with his dick in the shower, Colby wriggled his hand under the covers and clasped the shaft with clammy fingers. A few quick tugs had him coming with such force that he doubled over. Fragments from his dream danced inside his head as he worked his cock, goosing the pleasure and forcing him to stifle a moan. He didn’t want his roommate to hear—not that Marquis would care. Colby had never met anyone less inhibited than him. He could hear Marquis puttering in the kitchen, the apartment being small. If it were summer, the guy would be buck-naked, wearing only an apron to protect his precious assets. Colby was different, though. He couldn’t quite shake all the primness of his Midwestern upbringing.

Besides, it was almost shameful how aroused he’d been. Although he’d worked hard to accept his submissive and masochistic needs as nothing to feel guilty about, something about how he’d almost welcomed the nameless, faceless thing that had chased him in his dreams brought back those early feelings of remorse. BDSM was a consensual and often loving form of play. There wasn’t supposed to be real fear. Doms weren’t truly predatory, and yet…whoever had chased him in his dreams was different from any man he’d ever seen playing with ecstatic subs. There had been a menace that he’d instinctively felt and fled from. He should have only wanted to escape, but part of him had wanted to be caught.

“It’s just Halloween,” Colby muttered.

The pseudo-holiday had been a verboten day in his childhood, an alarming celebration of the devil and all that was evil. His family had prayed for those foolish people who thought it was a silly night for dress-up and getting free candy. For him, however, it was liberation day. Six months ago, he’d finally come out of the one remaining closet in his life and had declared that he was a masochistic sub yearning for a Master to take firm control of him. He’d spent an amazing night in the one local dungeon in the Boston area, watching others play and longing to join them—not that he’d had the courage to approach any of the enticing men dressed in black leather… They’d all been occupied with boys of their own. It had still been thrilling. Too bad they weren’t holding another open house this night. Things might have been different. As it was, he hoped to find some similar fun being held somewhere—or perhaps if he dressed in the clothing he’d purchased a few days ago at a sex shop, he might attract the right kind of man.

“Yeah, right. As if you’ve gotten any braver over the summer.”

The self-admonishment chased away the last remnants of his dream. Colby untangled himself from the sheet and stripped it off the bed before heading to the bathroom. He stuffed the soiled bedding in the hamper and hopped into the shower. That hot spray beating down perked him up and he would have loved to have lingered there. But water cost money and he and Marquis had precious little, so, he washed quickly and got out.

Wiping away the condensation on the mirror, he stared at his own reflection. Even wet, his nearly white-blond hair color was visible, and there was still a smattering of freckles on his pale cheekbones. Marquis had said when they’d first met that Colby was the whitest white boy he’d ever seen. There was no denying that, but Colby also knew that he was prettier than perhaps a boy should be. Certainly the bullies back home had thought so, jeering at him while they’d tried to push his face into their laps. It’ll be just like having a girl blow me, the instigator had said to be clear that, unlike Coby, he wasn’t gay. The taunting echoed in Colby’s head as it did from time-to-time, even though he was miles away from that life and comfortable in his own skin now. And he’d escaped—that assault and others, the endless praying of the congregation trying to make him ‘right’ with the Lord, as well as his family’s condemnation. He was an adult, living on his own and making the rules by which he lived. Looking back accomplished nothing.

He returned to his literal closet of a room and threw on jeans and an old sweater. The apartment was chilly. Heat was another expense they had to manage and growing up on a Nebraska farm meant that he could handle the cold. Marquis, poor guy, would be miserable for the next six months. Following delicious smells, Colby found his roommate plating up breakfast.

“Is that French toast?” Perhaps the smell of cinnamon had influenced his dream. Yeah, that’s it. Appreciation for his friend’s cooking had infiltrated the more menacing aspects of his visions.

Marquis put the plates on the counter that separated the galley kitchen from the rest of the room that served as their communal living space. “What can I say? I woke up with a fierce taste for it.”

Colby poured a mug of coffee, laced it with a cheap cream substitute and sat in his usual spot. He downed half of his coffee before forking a piece of his meal. “Hmm, thanks. This will fortify me for work and keep away the temptation to get something there.” He had a late afternoon shift at the coffee house he worked in, and even with his employee discount, the pastries cost more than he could budget for.

Marquis joined him. “Yeah well, I’m due at the gym in an hour. I’m going to have to get in some extra workout time of my own if I want to keep this off my hips. No one likes seeing a chunky guy mixing their healthy smoothies.”

Colby snorted. As thin as he was, Marquis was even more so without even trying that hard. A few pieces of French toast weren’t going to change that. “And I should go for a run before starting my shift.” He wouldn’t be done until closing at ten at night, and there was no way he wanted to run by himself so late. The South End of Boston was a pretty safe neighborhood, but still…

“Mm-m.” Marquis gestured toward the front door with his mouth full. After swallowing, he said, “I got the mail earlier and there’s something interesting for you.”

“Me?” Colby frowned. The only mail he got was junk. His bills were paperless, and no one wrote to him…ever.

“Yup, I was tempted to open it myself. If it’s junk, someone spent a lot on it.”

Curiosity had him leaving his delicious breakfast and going to the small table where they put the mail. He spotted the envelope immediately. It was black and thick, with gold lettering in a fancy script with his name and address clearly written. It was obviously for him unless some other Colby Taylor had lived in this very apartment at some point. He reached for it, then paused. A strange feeling stole over him, as if he were about to take some monumental step—that once he opened this letter, his life would never be the same.

Ridiculous.

He snatched up the envelope before he could think any more of it and flipped it over. The back flap was sealed in an old-fashioned way with black wax and short red ribbons dangling below. A stylized S and R were embossed within the wax. Colby held it close to his face to study the unusual markings. As he stared at them, he felt as if he were falling into some dark tunnel, being pulled into the seal, into the envelope itself. His world tilted for just a second before he blinked the feeling away and took a deep breath to ground himself.

Too much caffeine, too quickly, that’s all.

“What’s it say?” Marquis’ impatient voice called from the counter.

Colby broke the seal quickly before he could think better of it and pulled out a stiff invitation written in blood-red ink on cream paper bordered in black.

Mister Colby William Taylor,

You are hereby invited to play at a party, to be held at the Mayflower Dungeon this All Hallows’ Eve at 9 p.m. Dress optional

Come if you dare

Sebastian Reeves

There was no address given. Then again, there didn’t need to be. He knew where to find the place. His heart pounded, much as it had in the aftermath of his dream. The French toast sat heavy on his now slightly queasy stomach. But that wasn’t the only reaction to seeing the invitation. His dick had hardened instantly, pressing painfully against his fly with aching balls, as if he hadn’t come a mere fifteen minutes before. His hands shook slightly as he grasped the card and the envelope fluttered to the floor.

“Come on. What’s it say?” Marquis snatched the invitation from Colby and whistled. “Holy shit! Isn’t this the place you went last April?” When Colby could only nod, his roommate gave him a sly smile. “You didn’t tell me you made a friend there.”

Colby blinked slowly. “I didn’t. I-I just watched. I don’t know who this guy is or why he’d send me an invitation to play.” He remembered something. “Oh, I did give my contact information, because you can’t get in without filling out a waiver. I never heard from them, and I didn’t expect to.” The prices for joining the club were too steep for him, so it had been a relief not to get solicitations in the months since. There was no sense in torturing himself—ha ha—with something he couldn’t have.

“You must have met this Reeves guy. Why else would he invite you?” Marquis pressed.

Colby shook his head. “No, I didn’t. Other than the man at the entrance, I didn’t speak to anyone. I have no idea who he is.”

Marquis handed him back the invitation. “Huh. Well, you obviously made an impression on this dude. I can’t imagine why it would take months to contact you, though. Maybe he just got out of a relationship or he’s a Halloween freak.”

“Is there such a thing? I mean, is it a fetish or something?” There was a lot about the world of BDSM that Colby still didn’t know about.

His roommate shrugged. “How would I know? But isn’t there a fetish for everything? What are you going to wear?”

Colby frowned. “I’m not sure I’m going.” As tempting as it was to check out the party, there was a distant alarm bell ringing inside his head.

“Seriously? I thought this was your jam. Why wouldn’t you?” Marquis stooped to sweep the envelope off the floor and waved it in front of Colby’s face. “And this takes bank. I bet the dude’s from Beacon Hill or one of the flush suburbs. It couldn’t hurt to have a rich boyfriend.”

“Oh, please. You know I’m not looking for a sugar-daddy.” But he was looking for a play partner, if only for one night. His cock pulsed at the idea of finally being under a man’s control and feeling the exquisite pleasure of pain inflicted by someone who knew what they were doing.

'Oh please’, yourself,” Marquis scoffed. “Aren’t you the one longing for a husband and a dog in some nice condo around here?”

Colby smacked the guy in the arm without any heat. “That’s not the same thing.”

“Isn’t it? In those dreams of yours, do you still sling lattes for minimum wage and measly tips? Just because he’s put a ring on it, doesn’t mean he isn’t a sugar-daddy.”

“You’re such a cynic.” Even as he laid the charge against his friend, Colby had to admit there was truth in it. When he thought about his future, the idea of kneeling and taking punishment in a home that Colby kept for his Master made his heart stutter with joy.

“I’m not sure I’m going,” he reiterated, even though, before the last word was out of his mouth, he knew that was a lie.

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About the Author

Samantha Cayto

Samantha Cayto is a Boston-area native who practices as a business lawyer by day while writing erotic romance at night—the steamier the better. She likes to push the envelope when it comes to writing about passion and is delighted other women agree that guy-on-guy sex is the hottest ever. 

She lives a typical suburban life with her husband, three kids and four dogs. Her children don't understand why they can't read what she writes, but her husband is always willing to lend her a hand—and anything else—when she needs to choreograph a scene.

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Friday, October 22, 2021

New Release Spotlight/GIVEAWAY: La Petite Mort

La Petite Mort by Pelaam

Book 4 in the The Devil's in the Details series

General Release Date: 19th October 2021

Word Count: 45,548 Book Length: SHORT NOVEL Pages: 195

Genres:

ANGELS AND DEMONS CONTEMPORARY EROTIC ROMANCE GAY GLBTQI HORROR MÉNAGE AND MULTIPLE PARTNERS PARANORMAL

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Book Description


The little death… Sometimes you never wake up. 

 When Samael, an incubus-possessed witch, escapes Garen and Luke, leaving not just another victim but also one of their own injured in the process, Garen is determined to track down the demon. Its trail vanishes when it leaves New Zealand, only to be eventually picked up again by a team working in the UK. Invited to assist them, Garen and Luke travel to England to meet the other team of investigators—Emery, his husband Alex and their friend Kadin. They also meet an unusual and unofficial team member, Grim. The incubus has gone to ground in the country home of Steven Huntleigh, rich playboy and president of the Hellfire Club. Emery, Luke and Kadin infiltrate the club and Kadin risks flirting with the incubus. When the time comes to battle the demon, will the team be able to resist its lure—or will they become additional victims of its insatiable appetite?

Excerpt

From his vantage point at the back of the room, Luke watched Garen as his husband paced back and forth, gesticulating sharply and trying to get the woman across the table to engage with him. But, far from cooperating, she looked increasingly more irritated. Luke stifled his sigh, knowing that the sound would only annoy her further. It’s not like I’m surprised. Melani-Leigh Waru-Richards was a socialite—rich, attractive, at least superficially, and used to others doing what she wanted, not vice versa. Her reputation had preceded her—arrogant, spoiled, demanding and downright rude. But she’s also one of our three prime candidates for dying at the hands of a demon or demonic entity on the night of the upcoming full moon. With Thomas’ approval, Garen had brought her to their headquarters where he and Luke were hoping to persuade her of the danger and have her agree to protective care until the moon waned. The full moon is just two nights away. As much as she’s proving to be a stupid, stubborn fool, I still don’t want her to be another victim. “We wouldn’t be wasting your time, our time or anyone else’s if we didn’t believe the threat was very real, Ms. Waru-Richards.” Garen stopped pacing, slammed his hands down on the table and leaned toward the woman. It was a tactic that had worked many times in the past, but not with Melani-Leigh, who pursed her lips tightly and glowered at him before rising slowly from her seat. “Inspector Morloc—” “The name is Warnock.” Garen growled the words and Luke quickly went to his husband’s side, laying a hand at the small of his back, wanting to defuse the situation. Now that he was closer to the woman, he could see why she’d been described as a ‘plastic princess’. Although her face appeared wrinkle-free, her hands told another story. Luke already knew her hair owed more to extensions than natural tresses. False eyelashes, fake tan, synthetic nails, artificial hair and silicone breasts. But for someone who’s in her late forties, from a distance she could pass as still in her twenties. “All we’re asking you to do is to allow us to put you somewhere safe for the duration of the full moon. It’s just for a couple of nights.” Luke turned on all his persuasive powers, but Melani-Leigh simply folded her arms, her posture ramrod straight. “You don’t even know for sure that I’m even in any danger, do you? Well, do you?” She looked from Luke to Garen then back at Luke. “Exactly as I thought. No, you don’t. You don’t know anything.” “We know two people have already died, and we’d like to prevent a third.” Garen drew himself to his full height and glared down at Melani-Leigh. “If we could be more specific, we would be,” Luke added as he rubbed soothing circles on Garen’s back. “I have two very important functions to attend.” Melani-Leigh flicked at imaginary dust on her designer jacket sleeve. “Both involve charities that I personally sponsor—and not only am I expected to be there, I shall be. There will be top celebrities in attendance. Look… I’m no fool. I have a hand-selected team of expert security personnel who will be with me at all times. I can assure you that I won’t dismiss your concerns, but they won’t stop my life, either. No one but those closest to me, or most trusted, are permitted anywhere near me. I take it that this…creature doesn’t attack in full view of hundreds of witnesses.” “No, but—” Garen started, and Luke winced as Melani-Leigh held up a perfectly manicured hand. “No. You said it yourself. I will invite no strangers into my home. I’ll even salt the doors and windows and burn sage.” She cocked an eyebrow at Luke. “See? I’m aware of protections.” “There’s nothing we can say to persuade you otherwise?” Luke asked. We can hardly threaten to lock her up if she won’t accept our help, and it is possible that she isn’t the intended victim. “No. And if I thought I was in danger I’d have already done something about it. In my position, I have to be mindful of stalkers, overzealous fans, potential thieves and would-be kidnappers. Tell you what…” Melani-Leigh reached into the Gucci purse that she’d set on the table and drew out two gold-embossed invitations. “I’ll have you added to the guest list, Inspector.” She scribbled quickly on each card. “There we are, Inspector Warnock and guest. You can keep an eye on things right through the evening.” “Thank you.” Garen accepted the invitations, passing them straight to Luke without as much as a glance. “We won’t keep you. There’s nothing more to be said.” “Look… I appreciate you have a job to do, but believe me, my security is second to none. I pay for them to be the best.” Melani-Leigh hooked the purse over her wrist and sauntered to the door. “See you on Friday night.” Without a backward glance, she left the room, the door closing softly behind her. For a moment there was silence in the room and Luke finally allowed himself the heavy sigh he’d previously banked. “Fucking arrogant idiot.” Garen snapped out the words, his expression a mix of irritation and concern. “‘I pay for them to be the best’.” “I suppose we could have shown her the desiccated corpses we have.” Luke sat on the edge of the table. “But she’d have probably put in a complaint against us. At least we can be on hand.” Luke fanned the invites and Garen snorted. “But we can’t have a protective circle or a backup team ready to support us.” “No.” Luke ran his hand through his hair. “Or can we?” “What?” Garen turned to face Luke. “How?” “If Thomas will throw his weight behind us, I’m sure that we can arrange with the hotel manager to allow us to have a room where we can set up a protective circle…just as a precaution. She was right in one respect. Neither of the victims were attacked in the open. One was in bed, and the other was sprawled across a kitchen table.” “And both were naked.” Garen cocked his head. “Which suggests to me that sex may be involved. We couldn’t tell anything useful from the bodies. They were far too desiccated. “Which could point toward a succubus or an incubus.” Luke sighed. “One that doesn’t care whether its victims are male or female. So many ifs, buts and maybes. We need to narrow down the search for ‘what’. Then we may find the ‘who’.” “No signs of forced entry. Nothing out of place or missing. In both instances the victim’s friends even described them as very happy.” Garen rubbed his chin. “No. There was another phrase.” “A new lease on life.” Luke snapped his fingers. “Yes.” Garen nodded slowly. “That’s it. Over the past few weeks, they’d had a new lease on life—almost identical in both cases.” “Then I suggest we find a few close friends of Melani-Leigh’s and see if she’s having a new lease on life. If so, then she’s the one we’ll target, and I’ll organize teams for the others.” “Perfect.” Luke pecked a kiss to Garen’s cheek. “And I’ll make sure we have protections and spells for dealing with an incubus or a succubus.” “Take care out there. Keep in touch. I’ll see you later. Come back here when you’ve got what you need.” Garen pulled Luke into a tight hug, and Luke wrapped his arms around his husband’s waist. “I will.” Luke tilted his head and Garen gave him the kiss he craved. For a moment Luke lost himself in the feel, taste and scent of his husband. Reluctantly he slowly eased back. “I won’t be too long.” “Good. By the time you return, I’ll have the teams organized and get Thomas to deal with the hotel hosting our potential victim.” “Get schematics. We can map the place out and ensure we have everything covered.” Luke grinned up at Garen. “If the demonic force strikes there, we’ll have enough protections in place to deal with it.” “Will do.” Garen gave a curt nod, then spun Luke around, swatting his ass to make him move forward. “Let’s get this started. I’ll feel happier when you’re back here.’ “I won’t be long.” Luke set off at a trot. The sooner I get going, the sooner I’ll be back.

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About the Author

Pelaam

Living in clean, green New Zealand, Pelaam is a multi-published author of gay romance and erotica. When not working at writing, Pelaam likes to indulge in her other passions of cookery and wine appreciation.

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Enter for the chance to win a $50.00 First for Romance Gift Card! a Rafflecopter giveaway Notice: This competition ends on 2nd November 2021 at 12am EST. Competition hosted by Totally Entwined Group.

 

Thursday, October 5, 2017

WRITERS WRITE... WRITING PARTNERS FEUD ~ Israfel’s Song 2


Over the next several weeks, we will be sharing excerpts of the angelic characters from a work in progress, THE DARKNESS WITHIN, Book Three by Angelica Hart and Zi.

continued

ANGEL WINGS OF HOPE
London, England - Israfel’s Song
        If I cannot fly, let me sing. - Stephen Sondheim

Carole thought placing her Auntie Millie in a nursery home that was once a spacious Terraced house would make her Aunt feel less like she was in a facility. Carole had been wrong. Her aunt was despondent, just like those around her in the open visitor’s lounge. The residents sat like tombstones with palled epitaphs. Staring like unmovable gray stones in the midst of festive Christmas tinsel, poinsettias, an opulently dressed fresh tree, colorfully sprinkled cookies and swags of holly. Even the nurses and assistants appeared more like sterile robots than ministering care givers. There wasn’t just a lack of Christmas spirit, there was no motivation. Sadness felt like an oppressive cloud, joy had been siphoned from the nursing home as if invisible gremlins had a vacuum and sucked up every scrap of happiness.

"Humbug," was whispered. By whom? An unhappy entity.

Carole noted, especially, the sadness in her aunt. That pain wrenched, "This is so unfair. Someone please help." Had she prayed? Possibly.

At ninety-years old, most of Auntie Millie’s friends had passed or were living far away in other sterile places like this. She had no family her age, and those that visited did so as a yearly constitution. Carole was the only one who was faithful and came often. She loved her Auntie, and bemoaned the loss of their laughter and even their tears. They were once lively friends, but the onset of dementia had begun to steal even that. Carole saw those moments when her aunt slipped into the foggy tunnel of confusion. At least Millie still recognized Carole, still smiled at her approach.

“Hi dear, you well?” Millie managed.

A hug was exchanged, one of those fragile ones that could be barely felt. “Well, and you?”

She shrugged. “Good. Your Mum? Mike? The kids? Bet they can’t wait to see Father Christmas!” The tiniest spark of enthusiasm ignited at the last word. Gas burped from her seat. "Damn frogs!"

“Can’t wait,” Carole said, not reminding the woman that her kids weren’t little any longer but university age, and that her husband’s name was Andrew. She divorced Mike sixteen years ago. Mum had passed two years hence. "I chase frogs, too!"

Carole sat next to her Aunt, patted her hand. They both stared for a moment, and then Carole began to tell her all about one person or another, one funny event or another, and all in a falsetto happy tone. Her aunt nodded as if she got every word, but Carole could tell she wasn’t really listening. She was fading, slipping into a place where Carole didn’t exist. One day she’d come and Auntie Millie wouldn’t be there. Just her shell. Tightness in Carole's throat forced her to swallow as she suppressed tears and tamed her chin's quiver. That point of demarcation, total loss of reality, haunted.

Such profound sadness overcame Carole, she had to still inner tremors.

Then, from just behind her was a UPS man, known to everyone as Israfel. The man started humming a Christmas Carole, Joy to the World. Auntie Millie loved that song. Carole, who wouldn’t recognize a note if it kissed her, who would be a beat behind even if someone drummed it on her head, used to sing it to Auntie Millie before Carole understood she couldn’t sing. But Auntie Millie didn’t care, she’d laugh and sing with her, encourage her. She tell her, “To our good Lord, it’s all about making a joyful noise. Now, there it is.”

Gathering her courage, Carole belted out the song, didn’t even hesitate or start quietly. She stood in front of her aunt, stretched out her hands and started. Joy to the world, the Lord is come! Let earth receive her King; Let every heart prepare Him room, And Heaven and nature sing, And Heaven and nature sing, And Heaven, and Heaven, and nature sing….

Auntie Millie suddenly looked truly alert, her shoulders pushed back into the chair and miraculously her voice rose as well. A quivery old voice, but she still held the sweet clarity of song that she had when she was young. After a stunned pause, other weak voices joined in. Those ambulatory and in wheel chairs scooted closer. The voices grew louder. Who would have known? Angels would have.

At first the staff was startled, and the administrator walked over with every intention of quieting the group. After all, in her mind, the old should not be disturbed. But when she arrived, Carole linked her arm with the other woman’s and got her swaying. Something touched her deep inside and her surprisingly strong, soprano voice broke into the melee of sounds.

The head nurse walked by, paused, stared, and then smiled. She put her arm around two of the residents and sang, loud and off-key.

The atmosphere changed.

Joy exploded.

People began to laugh amidst the song. Some had tears in their eyes as other memories of Christmases past emerged.

The gloom that had darkened the visitor’s area dissipated. It was as if blinds had been opened and spears of sunshine splintered inward. None of that had happened. Just an invisible Israfel touching one person after another, encouraging the music within, and the combined voices brought light where demons once pressed for darkness.

All imps and gremlins scampered away, and wouldn’t return as long as music remained. Israfel saw those mystical beings flee being spanked by music.

The zaftig administrator, seeing how the song enlivened the elders, decided to instituted a music hour each day. The residents began to have energy again, participate in life, again. An oxygen delivery person who witnessed the impromptu sing-a-long noticed the change. His own sour mood with having to work extra hours to buy Christmas gifts altered. He had even stayed a few minutes to sing with everyone. On his next stop, he began to hum. Israfel's spirit washed over him and his voice became loud in song, encouraging those around him to do the same. A person who had a talented voice picked up the tune and soon the entire floor began to sing. The pharmacy delivery man sang it back at his job. It became infectious, from one person to another, from one nursing home to another, from one home to another. 

Through Israfel’s efforts, the entire community began to lift their voices. In time, music programs sprang up, uplifting the entire community. Schools offered their choirs. Churches encouraged their choirs. And local radio stations began to spend one day a month doing live broadcasts from these elderly havens. A bond of hope clung onto a community, sullying everyone with far too much joy to whisk away.

***
About the Story: The Darkness Within is a fast-paced supernatural thriller involving, kidnapping, romance, gypsies, and supernatural beings. The tale revolves around private detective Brie (Gabriella) Tyler's investigation of several missing young women believed to be runaways. Somehow, it connects to a past she cannot remember.   While trying to find his missing niece, Jake Marlo, the owner of prestigious private detective agency, crosses path with Brie. Independent and feisty, Tyler resists Marlo's help and romantic attention. The two collide as heinous henchmen and supernatural forces threaten to destroy their lives.


***
We'd love to hear from anyone interested in what we do. Anyone who writes us at writingteamcw@yahoo.com (Write - Blog Dawn - in subject line) and leaves an s-mail address, we will send you a free ebook (choose erotic or romantic thriller) and add you to any future mailings.



Angelica Hart and Zi ~ Vixen Bright and Zachary Zane
www.champagnebooks.com - www.carnalpassions.com - angelicahartandzi.com










Book Blast & Giveaway: Heidenröslein: The Little Rose on the Heath

 This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions . Christopher Whittaker will be awarding a $10 Amazon/BN gif...