The Buried Tale: The Star-Crossed Lovers (Fairy Tales from the Underworld #2) by L.C. Moon

Welcome to the tour for The Buried Tale, a star-crossed lovers fairy tale retelling by L.C. Moon!

The Buried Tale: The Star-Crossed Lovers (Fairy Tales from the Underworld #2)
by L.C. Moon
December 2025
Genre: Dark Mafia Romance

💜Dark Mafia Romance
💜Star-crossed Lovers
💜 Revenge Plot
💜 Enemies to Lovers
💜 Morally grey MMC
💜 Hidden pasts & secrets
💜 Emotional Angst

Do you know who you are?

Not all children are born equal. To say otherwise is a lie. So much is decided for us upon birth. Our name. The skin we live in. The family we're born into. A war-torn country… or a Beverly Hills ZIP code. So much of what shapes us lies beyond our control.

What of our choices? Do they not define us? Or is it the inner child we sacrificed to survive who holds the secrets to who we are?
Laura Malkin went through hell and came out crowned in flames. In the shadowed alleys of Montreal's Underworld, they all whisper the same words: "Beware the Purple Witch and her Little Wolves..."

And so, our tale begins again. Not where the last chapter ended, but where the pieces have landed. After all the lines were drawn, and the dust settled.

The Son of Snow… meets the Daughter of Sand.

AVAILABLE ON AMAZON

(Please note, this book contains graphic sexual content and deals with heavy subject matter, suitable for readers 18+.)

Please note all these topics are treated with tact and respect. They are there to help better understand the main characters, their behaviour and choices, and ultimately what shapes their dynamic.
kidnapping, captivity, dubious consent, murders and sex-trafficking, depression, self-harm, suicidal ideation, drug use and addiction. 

About the Author:
website
Canadian author L.C. Moon explores the themes of trauma, identity, and fate in her series Fairy Tales From the Underworld. A fan of Gothic fiction, domestic thrillers, character-driven stories, and epic sagas alike, Moon blends elements from various genres to craft deeply immersive tales featuring complex protagonists.

Her writing has been described as raw, evocative, and thought-provoking.

IG: @lcmoonattic @rrbooktours
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#rrbooktours #rrbtTheBuriedTale #mafiaromance #darkromancereads #enemiestoloversbooks #kindleunlimitedbooks

The Fablecastle Chronicles by Trina Spillman + excerpt

How do you report the truth when the truth could end everything?

The Fablecastle Chronicles
by Trina Spillman
Genre: Magical Realism
Publisher: Trina Spillman
ISBN: 9798649138604
ASIN:B08956JDBP
Number of pages: 252
Word Count: 47,500
Cover Artist: BrainyGeeks
Maggie McCullough is a star reporter for the Daily Mirror. In her monthly column, Setting the Record Straight, she revealed the truth behind the fables you may remember from your childhood. Those interviews brought her to the attention of someone in another dimension, someone claiming to be Lucifer.

Join Maggie and Andrew Wolfgang, her boyfriend and quasi bodyguard, as they travel to Earth and hopscotch across this strange dimension, in pursuit of a story that explains the truth behind Lucifer’s origins, the mutation he unleashed on Earth’s inhabitants, what really happened to the ark following the great flood, and why pyramids dot the planet.

Can Maggie write her earth-shattering article and escape Earth before all hell breaks loose?

Amazon

Watch the Book Trailer

Excerpt:
Maggie and Andrew approached the bar and were relieved they had arrived twenty minutes early. That is, until an attendant approached Maggie and said, “Good evening, Miss McCullough. If you would follow me, I will lead you to your private cabana. Your guest has already arrived and is waiting for you.” Maggie held up her finger and said, “I’ll be right with you.” “Certainly, take all the time you need.” The man moved to the end of the bar and waited discreetly. Maggie grabbed Andrew’s elbow and dragged him to the opposite corner of the bar. She was a little frazzled. “I am not going into a closed tent without you being able to watch me, especially since I have no idea who I’m supposed to be interviewing.” “Tell the waiter you are claustrophobic, and you need one of the side flaps on the cabana removed. That way I can keep an eye on you during the interview.” “Perfect.” Maggie summoned the waiter and explained what she needed. He seemed irritated but, without a word, walked to the cabana and unzipped the side flap, revealing an attractive man of medium build with a head of thick auburn hair lit with natural highlights of red and blond. Hair color to die for, Maggie thought. She squeezed Andrew’s elbow and whispered, “Here goes nothing.”

Andrew didn’t want her interviewee to be alerted to his presence, so keeping a respectable but short distance from Maggie, he nonchalantly whispered, “You’ll do great.” Maggie followed the attendant to the cabana where the man was sitting. He stood as she approached and held her chair out for her. She thanked him and sat. Turning toward the waiter, the stranger authoritatively commanded, “Bring the 1869 Chateau Lafite.” “Very good, sir. Will there be anything else?” “No,” he said dismissively. The waiter left. The man sitting across from Maggie said, “Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Lucifer, but you can call me Luc.”

“Pleased to meet you.” Maggie extended her hand. The man sitting across from her looked at it with disgust. She slowly withdrew her hand and placed it in her lap. A palpable energy radiated from him and made her skin crawl. Maggie quickly drew a protection spell in her notebook and was relieved when the unsettling sensation abated. Luc addressed Maggie. “There are a few ground rules that will need to be established before we commence.” Maggie said, “Absolutely. Please, continue.” “First, don’t speak unless spoken to. Secondly, there is a lot of information to cover and I will tell you what is important and what isn’t. Lastly, don’t be irritating. Keep your questions relevant and we will get along swimmingly.” What a dick, Maggie thought, but bit her tongue since she was positive such a comment would undoubtedly irritate him. “Duly noted.” “You may proceed and ask your first question.” Maggie jumped right in and asked, “What story do you want to set straight?” Luc chuckled. “I am not the figure humans have made me out to be and I would like to tell my side of the story.”

About the Author:
Website-Instagram
Goodreads-Newsletter
Trina Spillman, who also writes under the pen name Selene Greenleaf, crafts both practical witchcraft guides and immersive works of fiction that span romance, magical realism, and contemporary thrillers. Splitting her creative life between Colorado’s mountain landscapes and a growing library of story ideas, she blends current events, folklore, plant magic, and real-world rituals to invite readers into transformative experiences. Under Selene Greenleaf, she’s the author of Witchcraft Essentials: A Modern-Day Guide to Spells, Herbs, and Crystals; Cupid's Craft: Love Spells for Valentine's Day; and her forthcoming Plant Magic Encyclopedia: Rituals & Remedies, resources designed to help modern practitioners weave intention and botanical wisdom into everyday life.

Writing as Trina Spillman, she’s best known for her engaging fairy tale retellings. Upcoming projects include:

A New Dawn — a gripping political thriller of power, ethics, and love, to be released by The Wild Rose Press

Collateral Justice — the powerful sequel to A New Dawn, where a hidden alliance of the world’s elite blurs the line between justice and vengeance.

The Witches of Fablecastle— When a witch hunter’s mirror exposes her forbidden magic, Holly McCool flees through a portal to Fablecastle, only to learn she’s the one destined to stop him from tearing both worlds apart.

The Quantum Hitchhiker’s Guide to Escaping the Matrix — a witty, mind-bending manual on how to hack reality, rewrite your personal code, and manifest with humor, consciousness, and a touch of modern witchcraft.

Whether she’s exploring the ethics of power in a thriller or sharing herbal recipes for daily rituals, Trina/Selene’s work reflects her unwavering belief in the healing and transformative power of words. 

Among the Fallen (The Fallen Realms Book 1) by Makena Song

We're celebrating the new release Among the Fallen this week with a tour! If you are looking for an epic fantasy adventure without the spice, this one's for you! 

 

Among the Fallen (The Fallen Realms Book 1)
by Makena Song
Release Date: January 7, 2026
Genre: YA Fantasy

• Chosen One
• Good vs. Evil
• Found Family
• Underdog (Zero to Hero)
• Cursed MC
• Survival Story
• The Hero's Journey
• False Prophecy
• Betrayal by Friends

Remember The Fallen Ones… Accused of a crime that he didn’t commit, Lucian Roux is on the run from his hometown, Caelum, a rural village concealed deep within The Sage’s Forest. Although carrying the weight of a criminal record and the fear of an uncertain future, Lucian sees this new start as an opportunity to achieve his one-and-only dream: Freedom. His freedom, however, comes with a terrible cost... 

A price that he might never be able to pay. Luckily, Lucian isn’t alone. In the company of a delusional goddess trapped in a mirror and a snarky peer with a passion for swords, Lucian embarks on a prophetic adventure to not only figure out the true identity of the evil entity inside him but also break the chains binding him once and for all. A YA fantasy adventure with no explicit content or profanity. Includes a brief scene of domestic violence and instances of bullying. Reader discretion advised. 

GET IT HERE

About the Author:
Instagram
Makena Song was adopted from Seoul, South Korea, and was raised in Longwood, Florida. From an early age, Makena’s mother, Tina Song, read countless books to her, including: The Tale of Despereaux, The Shadow Children Series, and The Missing Series. Reading allowed Makena to let her imagination run free, as these magical scenes played out in her head.

When she was introduced to Wattpad in middle school, she gained a creative outlet to express her countless story ideas. By the time she was in high school, this vault of random ideas turned into a set of fantasy novels. After she graduated Summa Cum Laude from Furman University, Makena pursued not only a full-time writing career as a marketing copywriter but also a dream to publish Among the Fallen and Among the Risen. 

BOOK TOUR ORGANIZED BY:

R&R BOOK TOURS

Anthology: Requiem: Tales of the Undead

Death comes for us all. But for some, it doesn’t stay.
These aren’t just stories about the undead. They’re about what we remember, what we mourn, and the songs that stay with us—long after the last breath fades.

Requiem: Tales of the Undead
Edited by Lisa Mangum with Wendy Christensen
Jan 3, 2026

Publisher: WordFire Press
This collection includes stories from the alumni of Superstars Writing Seminars: Jonathan Maberry, Mary Pletsch, Carol Hightshoe, Gillian Fraser, Edward J. Knight, H.T. Ashmead, J. L. Smyser, L. Briar, Jason Kristopher, Caitlin Barbera, Aaron Canton, Kat Farrow, Lehua Parker, Mike Strickland, Victoria Rivera, Jason P. Crawford, Gabbie Gibson, Lou J Berger, Elizabeth Lowham.

With an all-new zombie story by New York Times bestselling author Jonathan Maberry
Death comes for us all. But for some, it doesn’t stay. Mythology and lore are full of undead creatures, and each one has a story to tell—of their life, their death, or their afterlife.

From a haunting melody that leads a ghost to her killer, to a piano that provides salvation during a zombie apocalypse, to a song that grants passage back from death, Requiem: Tales of the Undead offers a chilling chorus of monstrous melodies and ghostly harmonies.

These nineteen imaginative stories feature a wide variety of the undead, each woven with a distinct musical element that explores the connection between life, death, and the supernatural. A vampire working in law enforcement learns that “The driver picks the music.” A mummy trapped in a corporate cubicle struggles to break free and pursue his own song. Death takes piano lessons. And when a special song is played on a specific gramophone, the dead are allowed to answer three final questions.

These aren’t just stories about the undead. They’re about what we remember, what we mourn, and the songs that stay with us—long after the last breath fades.

So, listen closely. The dead have stories to tell. And they’re set to music.

Amazon

 

All profits from Requiem: Tales of the Undead support the various scholarship and endowment funds for Superstars Writing Seminars.

 

Quiet Spells (Spells of Life and Death, 2) by Isa Agajanian + excerpt

“This dark contemporary fantasy has a mesmerising blend of high stakes drama, magic and rivals-to-lovers romance” ―Cosmopolitan

Quiet Spells (Spells of Life and Death, 2)
by Isa Agajanian
February 3, 2026
Book 2 of 2: Spells for Life and Death
Genre: paranormal mystery, witches, supernatural
Ghosts passed through the cottage sitting on the peak of Townsend Hill like passengers in a train station. Some, Teddy Ingram knew, stayed longer than others.

More than half a year has passed since the disappearance of Gemma Eakley and Teddy Ingram still has no clue as to whether she is alive, dead or something worse. With Gemma's young daughter left in his care Teddy haunts the rural haven of Townsend like one of its many spirits.

But then Aurelia – his beloved ex-rival – returns with the news that her own mother is dead – and a ghost forms from the pages of her farewell to give the would-be lovers a message: They won’t let me rest.

One coven's efforts to reverse the looming extinction of witches involves resurrecting the dead. Meredith's old coven wants to know what secrets she took with her to the funeral pyre; did she have the key to fixing their botched attempts at necromancy?

From the acclaimed author of Modern Divination comes the dark and magical concluding part of the Spells for Life and Death duology.

Amazon

Excerpted from QUIET SPELLS by Isa Agajanian, published by Tor, an imprint of Pan Macmillan. Copyright © 2026 by Isabel Agajanian.
Water pooled around Alaric’s leather shoes, trickling towards the front door of a humble – rather bleak – South London flat. It descended from each step of a rickety staircase before him with a faint hiss. The caretaker lowered himself to one knee, enough for the hem of his trousers to droop into the water but not his kneecap. Rolling up his shirt sleeve, Alaric let the water pass through his fingers and made a note to himself: Clear.

Then again, diluted with so much of it, he’d miss even the darkest colour of witch’s blood.

A soft, distinctly male whimper trickled down from the flooding loo.

So, his witch was still alive. This, Alaric had not expected. He smothered a spiteful urge growing in his stomach.

Mercy, mercy.

He was bound to this man’s survival, to being abundantly forgiving, which wasn’t much of a stretch from his general unwillingness to overexert himself on a job. Alaric rose again, throwing his shoulders back to protest against the ache in his body. He’d endured far too many years of this profession. The caretaker role would have long since drained any good man. Who could blame him for wanting one easy job when his muscles ached as much as they did – when he’d been carrying the weight of this thankless role for as long as he had.

Much of it was tedious. His days consisted mostly of paper- work, inventory, making sure that every borrowed magical artefact was within arm’s reach and returned to his care promptly. Sometimes, a low-ranking offshoot of the royal family would call upon him with a hush-hush task like demon banishing or divinatory reconnaissance, and he would have to pretend he hadn’t been singing songs about the downfall of the British monarchy every night straight through his youth.

This particular excursion, which had him skulking cautiously around every corner, should have been rarer. But fate had been rather unkind to him lately, and the only person he knew who could have ever truly made sense of it had disappeared eight long months ago.

He knew fate favoured patterns. One peculiar house call became two, then three; and this one, which was not technically a house call because it was a flat, marked the eighth visit of the past two months. Certainly the first that would follow him home.

And spell trouble for all of them.

At least it would be quick. Alaric’s silence on the matter of the witch in question meant he wouldn’t stand any trial with the council. He’d kept the peripheral details of the shapeshifting witch Leona Sum’s case as quiet as he could. He explained with the confidence of a man past the need for concern that Leona Sum had come and gone and left little mess to clean up.

What he did not say was that his town’s resident diviner, Gemma, was still gone, and her family, waiting for her back home, were reluctant to believe that Leona worked alone. He did not divulge the specificities of Theodore Ingram’s lying low on account of the accidental shattering of London’s Tate Modern Museum, though the council had begun to take interest in the influences stealing Alaric Friedman away from his work all the time. He was hiding something – they were all sure of it – but he remained seemingly, stubbornly oblivious to any and all inquiries regarding the current instability plaguing the witches of England due to Leona Sum’s violent harvesting of magic.

Which was a difficult balance of omission on both sides. The council was eager for Alaric to devote more to them – to give his unwavering commitment, sacrifice his loves, and divulge his dirty secrets, which included the large cover-up for Townsend’s new resident reaper. On the other hand, the boy grew restless in Townsend whenever Alaric left for too long, asking for his whereabouts when Alaric wanted to keep him as uninvolved in council assignments as possible.

He’d always had a soft spot for Gemma’s family, and Teddy Ingram was no different, woven into the sordid bunch with an invisible stitch. But there was only so much he could give in reassurance that he was doing everything in his power to find Townsend’s missing matriarch and bring her home.

Trust me, thought the caretaker as he pushed himself onto the last step, I’m tired too.

A limb, hidden past the elbow, poked out from behind the bathroom door. Alaric reached for the inner pocket of his leather jacket, tracing the ridges of two bronze bangles through the fabric.

He cleared his throat. The man’s wrist twitched in response, and he choked something unintelligibly. Alaric answered presumptuously.

‘Alaric Friedman. Your resident council seat—’

The witch pitched forward as a mucus-drowned cough leaked out. Bile spilled from the corner of his mouth. He’d been poisoned. Perhaps, he’d poisoned himself. Everything Alaric had learned about the man subverted whatever his former expectations had been, and he turned from villain to victim to vulnerable. In any circumstance, he should not have been the type of person who would drink his own draught of destruction.

The caretaker crossed over the body, twisting the shrill tap until the water stilled. Surely, the man wouldn’t care for Alaric’s title, or his duty, or the fact that he was bound by magical decree to keep the man alive. More likely, the man wanted to curse him for the intrusion, for what Alaric knew that the man did not want discovered.

It was too late for the man to have secrets when those secrets affected his family.

Alaric slipped the bangles from his pocket and shut them around the man’s wrist, the pooling over of bathwater back crawling up his trousers fully. Whatever curse sat on the edge of the man’s tied tongue fizzled out ineffectively while his dark, quivering wrists were circled in those flimsy bronze bands. They were small enchantments that would stifle even the darkest spells.

There was no struggle, which gave Alaric a stricter sense of urgency. Up until now, he’d taken his time, built himself up for a slow interrogation; the man would live, after all. And from what Alaric knew of him, the suffering in-between was not entirely undeserved. He had been watching, studying him, from a safe distance, the periphery of known existence. From a shadow wedged between dimensions. And though the man had walked a careful path, Alaric knew it was because the man had created a monster.

The caretaker would concern himself with that later. The monster in question was dead now, and her maker was in too poor a state to withstand even the gentlest questioning.

The man forced a response, mustering up the strain of a hundred crushed breaths. ‘Here to . . . kill me?’

‘No, Mr. Sum.’ Alaric propped the man against the side of the tub with a groan. The man didn’t seem fazed by the sound of his surname in a stranger’s mouth, though Alaric suspected he lacked the energy to seem much of anything at all. The care- taker clasped the man by his chin, examining his eyes, then his teeth, before delivering his verdict. ‘You’re not going to die today.’

Amazon

About the Author:

website
(they/them) is a writer and illustrator in the United States. Raised in California and spirited away to Florida, then Oregon, Isabel is never writing in one place for too long. They are joined in their pursuit of good stories by a hefty grey cat named Mosse and at least one roommate at a time. Modern Divination is their first published novel at the crux of a hundred unpublished stories