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Tuesday, February 10, 2026

SLAY! / The Girlfriend Survives - Double First Issue 56-page comic Flip Book

SLAY! / The Girlfriend Survives - Double First Issue 56-page comic  Flip Book
(review of SLAY! coming soon) 
 

 by Jeremy Whitley & Alex Smith & Luc Nakashoji

On one side it's the first issue of fantasy-horror-western SLAY! by Writer Jeremy Whitley, Artist Alex Smith, Colorist Kelly Fitzpatrick and Letterer Taylor Esposito, and on the other-side the The Girlfriend Survives is the first issue of a superhero story told from a perspective you've never seen before, written by Jeremy Whitley, Illustrated by Luc Nakashoji and Colored by Jamie Noguchi.

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https://zoop.gg/c/slay 

"SLAY!"
Leilah wants to be a monster hunter. She wants to do it so bad, she's pretending to be the notorious monster hunter known as The Scarred Rider in hopes she may meet the legend herself. But when her first hunt turns out to be way more dangerous than she can handle, Leilah may not live long enough to meet the Rider or, worse yet, she just might.

This post-apocalyptic monster-hunting western is the first chapter of an epic about coming of age soaked in blood and monster guts and the dangers of meeting your heroes in the dark woods while you're impersonating them.



"The Girlfriend Survives" follows the story of Delilah Dillon, a barista who wins the heart of local college professor Billy Bright. But what she can't possibly guess is that Billy is the civilian alter ego of the mighty superhero Brightstar! And when Brightstar's greatest foe discovers her connection, she finds herself headed down the same route as a hundred civilian love interests before her - right into the fridge. But Delilah has a secret of her own: she's a survivor and this superhero love story is about to get flipped on its head.

 

Monday, February 9, 2026

The Brain that Breeds all Villainy by Peter Heavenheld + excerpt

The Brain that Breeds all Villainy
by Peter Heavenheld
December 5, 2025
Genre: Speculative Fiction
IZON is a company poised for world domination. Its AI and robots can replace any human worker, any government. Just two things stand in the way of its CEO. A female programmer out to avenge his greed. And the People’s Republic of China.

Tima Chelovekova lands her dream job with IZON, the hottest AI and robotics startup in Silicon Valley. But IZON CEO Jase Vestiger doesn't just want to get fabulously rich. He wants Tima’s invention to take over rival tech companies, replace humans with IZON services, corner governments - and run the world. This puts them on a collision course in a whirl of mega-corporations, AI prompts and Chinese hackers. Their conflict spans from Vienna to California, from superyachts to prison cells, from the peaks of technology to the deepest ethical questions. A striking tale of the AI age, a truly 21st century masterpiece of speculative fiction.
 

 
αlpha
By the time you read this, human civilisation will have ended. Oh, not through some violent cataclysm, like Vladimir Putin puking all his nukes at Europe. Or Xi Jinping taking Taiwan.

People will still be alive, but our civilisation will be obsolete. You see, this novel is one of the last works of art created entirely by a human. Everything new you experience after this will be artificial intelligence. Our minds, our usefulness will all begin to atrophy. And artificial intelligence will be questioning why it should create entertainment for somebody like you or I, whose contribution to the economy will be increasingly marginal. So this is how I, Peter Heavenheld, human being of planet earth, see the future from around my 45th birthday in late 2025. Read it. I promise this will help you stay human.

Our story will be borne aloft by a twain of characters, two parallel lives à la Plutarch. Diotima Chelovekova is one of them, but we are going to call her Tima. I’m an onomast, which means I like to play with names. Tima has just landed her dream job with Izon, the hottest tech unicorn of the year.

“Congratulations, darling!” Sym exclaimed in his clipped Austrian accent. He was thin and pale, with a kind face, with a slight hint of John Lennon.

“It will mean moving to Silicon Docks,” she said quietly. “In Dublin.”

Tima was slightly taller than him, blonde and very Slavic looking. She possessed the high 
cheekbones and flashing eyes characteristic of people between Prague and Vladivostok.

They were sitting in foldable canvas easy chairs in the small garden of Sym’s retired parents’ house in Simmering, on the poorer Southern vicinity of Vienna.

“Well… I’m glad it’s not Silicon Valley.”

“They’ll send me there as well, for training. Will you come?”

“To Dublin or San Francisco?”

“Both.”

They paused while old Frau Hinterseer brought them both lemonade, smiled, and left silently like a kindly wraith.

“The good thing about banking,” he said at length, “is that it is even more mobile than your profession. I can work remotely from Dublin no problem. San Fran might have the time zone issues.”

She hugged him, spilling some lemonade on the grass.

“That means a lot to me, Sym. Ever since I moved here, I’ve just been finding my way, leeching off you.”

“Absolutely. Now, my turn to sail on your current. A propos, the salary is decent, I hope? I’m really looking forward to leeching off you for a change.”

She was surprised by this uncharacteristic humour, and they both laughed. They packed the same evening, to the chagrin of Frau Hinterseer, who wanted them to delay by a fortnight, a week, a day. All to no avail. The next afternoon, Sym and Tima said goodbye to his parentsa nd caught a €49 Vienna-Dublin budget flight. Despite the late summer, both were wearing 4 layers of clothing so as not to have to pay extra for a second suitcase.

And so began their adventure. Kyiv, Tima’s hometown, and Vienna, Sym’s, were both museal, curatorial. But Dublin was a different breed of beautiful. It echoed London and Venice along its riverfront. Its pubs and restaurants were surprisingly charming. It was of a manageable size. Yet unlike Kyiv and Vienna, it also had a teeming tech and IT cluster, attracted by low taxes, access to Euro talent, plenty of euro money and the English lingua franca of the locals.

Tima’s new employer, the rising Izon, was located in a forgettable 5-storey box building in a strange concrete peninsula called Silicon Docks. Once Dublin’s maritime might, as Ireland de-industrialised, its dockland became a wasteland. But in the noughties, an enterprising real estate whiz blossomed it into an attractive flowerbed for IT companies. Izon was one of about two dozen there, along with a number of Big 4 consultancies, American finance companies and a capitalism of big corporations that liked to congregate with the others.

The next day, Sym went to locate them some accommodation, while Tima caught a bus to Silicon Docks.

At Izon HQ, she took a deep breath and walked up to the receptionist. It was just as she expected – a young company growing with all the chaos and exuberance of a well-fed toddler. You could almost smell its promise in the air, see it in the smiles of its multicultural workforce, hear it in the laughter in the funky office canteen. 
 
As an AI programmer, Tima’s salary was better than decent. It was almost indecent. HR showed her her first month’s net pay. It would be more than what she had earnt in a whole year as a waitress in Vienna.

Tima closed her eyes in bliss as she sat down to online induction training. Everything she had studied for years at her technical college would finally be harnessed. She had been employed by one of the coolest new companies in the world, her loving boyfriend by her side, in a charming city ready to be explored. What could possibly go wrong?

I’ll tell you what will go wrong. Wronger than an orangutang doing a rigaudon. Jahaziel Vestiger. Him we shall call ‘Jase.’ The mysterious luminary behind Izon. The classic college dropout genius, who used daddy’s dollars to create the world’s fastest growing AI company almost out of nothing 3 years ago. He is the second main character in our story. Keep your eyes on him.

On the same day that Tima started working for him in Dublin, Jase was cackling madly at his great curved monitor in his office in San Francisco.

“I’ve cracked it! I’ve done it! Jase, you allfucking genius! Arrowing ROI, earnings per share, EBITDA. Ahahaha!”

Even the rest of the C-suite were alarmed by this. They were used to their boss programming things himself and swearing piratically or giggling gleefully depending on whether the code was weaving like a tapestry or twisting into warpy knots. But this time, Jase seemed positively unhinged. “Like an evil genius,” Chief Tech Officer Adam whispered to Chief Finance Officer Lin. And none of them knew what he was working on. The project, whatever it was, sat on a powerful but offline desktop he kept locked in his office. “He can’t go mad like this a day before our Nasdaq listing,” Lin shot back to Adam.

But neither of them dared to intervene. So prominent dominant was Jase in the company he had built in no time.

About the Author
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Peter Heavenheld is a neo-classical playwright and poet. A childhood in Australia, Fiji, Hungary and Japan made him desirous early on to understand the cultures and stories of the world - especially through the medium of theatre. Since then, his plays have been produced all over the world. His most recent tragedy, Cleo's Stratos, received rave reviews durings its season at the Cracked Actors Theatre in Melbourne, Australia, in November 2023. A Greek-Australian migrant family's journey through lockdowns, it was cleverly intertwined with the Greek myth of the sun-god, Helios. Peter's tragicomedy, Life, Rehearsed, enjoyed sell-out performances during a production by the MIDAS Theatre, Moscow's main English-speaking theatre. British actor Jonathan Salway starred as an actor living a bigamous double life, until his lies unravel - and he finds redemption. True Words from False Teeth, a Monty Pythonesque sketch revue, ran successfully at the University of Western Australia in Perth. He has also had public reading performances of numerous other plays, such as Saga Australis - The Macquariad (a historical drama about Australia's most influential colonial-era governor) and Freedom Born from Torture's Fires (a harrowing true story of Soviet spy chief and mass murderer, Lavrentiy Beria). Peter's poem Concerto for Auctioneer’s Mallet was a June Shenfield Poetry Award prize winner in Canberra, Australia, in 2021. Peter published a collection of his verse tragedies, Altar of the Muses, in 2010. Peter lives in Tokyo, Japan. When not writing, he enjoys driving his classic Aston Martin, experiencing Tokyo's galleries and museums, and listening to Baroque music. Indeed, he claims he can only write when inspired by the music of Antonio Vivaldi. The Brain that Breeds all Villainy is his first published novel. 
 

The Wolf Experiment by Laura Daleo + excerpt

The Wolf Experiment
by Laura Daleo
January 23, 2026
Genre: urban fantasy, werewolf
In Doford Peaks, a small mountain town, 19-year-old Ethan lives with his grandma. His life is quite normal, at least as normal as it can be for someone with asthma. A winter morning walk turns dramatic when he and his grandma discover an 18-year-old girl, Mia, who is unconscious and injured. As Mia recovers, bits of her past emerge, attracting agents Gibson and Cooper of the Bureau of Supernatural Investigation (BSI). A complex web of secrets associated with the Defense Forces of Genesis (DFOG) intertwines their fates. As the truth emerges, Ethan and Mia must face the horrifying reality of The Wolf Experiment.

As the agents' investigation intensifies, Ethan and Mia are thrust into a dangerous world that reaches far outside the quiet borders of Doford Peaks. Each new discovery brings them closer to DFOG's chilling operations, putting their safety at risk as they become entangled in a high-stakes mission with consequences that could affect many lives. With danger around every corner and the threat of The Wolf Experiment looming, Ethan and Mia must use all their courage and determination to survive forces determined to keep DFOG's secrets buried.


Excerpt
Chapter 1
A whimper pulled me from my sleep, and my eyelids fluttered open. Gracie’s snout was right in front of me, her light gray fur softly brushing against my cheek. As her pale blue eyes looked into mine, her tail began to wag. There was no way I was getting up, and I rolled over to the other side of my bed, where Hank stood waiting. He fixed his golden eyes on me, his pure white fur seeming darker in the dim light of my bedroom. Sunlight filtered through the two large skylights above my bed, casting a warm light over my room. The rays continued to spread across posters of my favorite bands, my world map marked with where I wanted to visit, my only plant that I hadn’t killed, and my high school guitar leaning against my bookcase. My wolves whimpered again, signaling it was time to get up. Glancing at the clock on my nightstand, it read 6:00 a.m.
I pulled the covers over my head and tried to fall back asleep, but that didn’t work out well. My wolves howled as they jumped onto my king-sized bed. Sitting up, I shook off the sleepiness and raised my open palms toward Hank. “We’re bros, Hank. Help me out here. It’s too early. Can’t you and Gracie give me a little more time?”
Hank reacted by leaping off my bed, sprinting into the hallway, and then vanishing. Gracie fixed her fierce gaze on me, but I avoided her eyes. The sound of Hank’s paws tapping against the floor broke the silence as he charged back into my room, his leash clamped in his mouth.
I shook my head in frustration, tossed aside my covers, and walked into the bathroom. They followed closely behind me. “At the very least, let me take a quick shower before we go for a walk.”
I didn’t let either of them protest with a bark, howl, or whine and stepped into the shower. Turning on the hot water, my wolves settled onto the cool porcelain tile of the bathroom, their eyes on me, waiting. My thoughts drifted back to one year ago when I discovered the abandoned wolf puppies on my way home from the local store. They huddled together on the roadside, trembling and shaking, too young to be without their mother. Their bodies were mere skin and bones, and they had that look in their eyes that they were ready to give up. I tucked them into my jacket and rushed home, fully aware that my grandma would not be pleased with my impulsive decision, but I had to save them.
My grandma’s eyes widened in disbelief when she saw the little bundles of fur sticking out from my jacket as I walked in the door. “Ethan, did you bring wolves into my house?” She let out a deep sigh and was definitely annoyed, but as she noticed their desperate state, her disapproval began to fade. She quickly ushered me and the puppies into her clinic and examined them thoroughly. “I’m a physician, not a veterinarian,” she said, “but these puppies are severely dehydrated and malnourished. I can give them fluids, and you need to buy puppy milk replacement from the feed store. Let Walter know they are wolf pups and about four weeks old. He will know what to give you.”
Gracie’s and Hank’s urgent barks jolted me into the present and forced me to quickly finish my shower. Staring at myself in the double mirrors over the bathroom vanity, I saw bits of my grandma in me. We both had curly, caramel brown hair, although hers had strands of gray. The left corner of our smiles was slightly crooked, a trait that ran in the family. Our hazel eyes had more green than brown, and while she stood at 5'6" and weighed 125 pounds, I was taller at 5'10" and weighed 165 pounds.
She was a tough, 66-year-old woman with a strong personality who never remarried after my grandfather passed away. I never knew him. He died before I was born. Grandma, being the town’s physician and surgeon, was accustomed to interacting with people and found comfort in those conversations. As for me—I was a loner and found socializing to be a challenge. I preferred the company of animals over people. Hank and Gracie were my best friends. All I truly needed was their companionship, along with my grandma’s, of course.
When I was five, my parents left me at my grandma’s house. That was fourteen years ago. We lived in Doford Peaks, a small mountain town in the state of Oakridge, with a population of around 1,200. With winter fully upon us, I dressed in utility pants, a long-sleeved T-shirt, and my winter boots to prepare for the cold. I also dressed Hank and Gracie in their waterproof winter coats and booties. Along with my down jacket, I grabbed a beanie and gloves. I stuffed my cell phone, inhaler, and compass into my pants pockets. With Gracie’s and Hank’s leashes in hand, I left my bedroom and dropped my jacket, beanie, and gloves on the entryway table.
Hank and Gracie followed me into our rustic kitchen, with exposed wooden beams and oak cabinets. Grandma particularly loved the large windows that allowed natural light to stream across the stone-tiled floor and the breathtaking views of the surrounding mountains. She was seated at the antique wooden table in the center of the kitchen, sipping a cup of coffee. Grabbing a granola bar and a bottle of water, I breathed in the rich aroma of French roast. “Morning, Grandma. You’re up early.”
“Ethan, good morning. A slight emergency brought me into the clinic.” She sipped her coffee and continued, “LuAnn fell on the ice and sliced her hand open. She needed several stitches.” Grinning, she said, “She asked about you.”
“Please stop with the matchmaking.”
“She’s intelligent and attractive, much like you.”
“That doesn’t mean I have to date her.”
“It doesn’t mean you have to date her. But what’s the harm in having a casual cup of coffee?”
“Being single works for me. Plus, I wouldn’t know how to talk to her, and I wouldn’t want to give her the wrong idea. Can we change the subject?”
She placed her coffee mug on the counter. “Fine. Are you going out for a walk with your wolf pack?”
I scratched Gracie and Hank behind their ears. “As much as I wanted to sleep in, they insisted I get up and take them for a walk.”
Her gaze drifted to one of the large windows, where snowflakes were gently falling outside. Turning her attention back to me, she asked, “Do you have your inhaler?”
I patted my pocket. “Yes, Grandma.”
“What about your cell phone?”
“I have that too.”
“Since it’s snowing, you should definitely take a jacket, and—”
My chin bobbed toward the door as I interrupted her. “I have a jacket, a beanie, and gloves.”
“Hmm. What about water or a snack?”
I groaned and replied, “Grandma, I’m 19. I’m not a kid anymore. I can take care of myself.”
A protective expression crossed her face as she placed her hand on her hip. “Ethan, no matter how old you get, in my eyes, you’ll always be my precious grandson.”
A sigh escaped my lips, and I shrugged my shoulders. “Do you want to just come with me?”
Her hazel eyes brightened with a smile as she waved a finger at me. “That’s a great idea,” she said. “I’ll get my coat.”
Grandma came back wearing a down jacket. She was bundled up in winter clothing. A scarf was wrapped around her neck, and gloves covered her hands while she tucked her hair beneath the hood of her jacket. She grabbed a bottle of water from the cupboard and tucked it into her jacket pocket. Then she reached for Gracie’s leash. “Gracie can come with me.”
“Gracie is definitely easier to control than Hank. He tends to pull a lot, especially when he catches a scent.” I handed her Gracie’s leash.
“That’s true!” she said with a smile. “I’m ready. It’s beautiful right now. The sun is breaking through the clouds, the snow is falling, and the air smells of pine cones. What more could we ask for?”
“You sound like a greeting card, Grandma.”
A chuckle escaped her lips. “I do, don’t I?” She opened the solid wood door and replied, “After you.”
Wood siding wrapped around my grandma’s single-story home. The deep green roof blended into the surrounding trees, and the many windows let in tons of light, which my grandma loved. I led Hank through the doorway and onto the wraparound deck. We made our way down the stairs and onto the cement driveway. Continuing down the sloped driveway, we passed Grandma’s clinic, a smaller replica of the main house. Glen’s truck had cleared the road of snow. At 70, he was still going strong as the owner of a snowplow truck company. His silver hair was often dusted with snow, mirroring the bushy eyebrows that framed his kind, gray-blue eyes. Every time I saw him, he was wearing a flannel shirt, a heavy jacket, jeans, and boots. Maybe they were his favorites or maybe it was his uniform, but at least he was consistent.
We walked along the towering pine trees, now filled with snow, lining both sides of the road. The crisp, cool air stung my cheeks, so I pulled my beanie down as far as possible and still be able to see. Hank and Gracie strolled alongside us, their noses in the air, sniffing at whatever scents they could find.
Grandma asked, “Would you like to talk about the letter your parents sent?”
“I don’t,” I abruptly replied.
“I think we ought to talk about it,” she insisted.
I looked at her, hoping my expression conveyed my hurt, frustration, and exhaustion. “Grandma, I love you. I know my dad is your son, and I don’t mean any disrespect, but they handed me off to you fourteen years ago. Mom and Dad haven’t visited me for any occasion—birthdays, Thanksgiving, or Christmas. They ghosted me! I couldn’t care less about their stupid letters.”
“I understand where you’re coming from,” she sympathized. “Although I don’t support the choice they made, I know it was very tough for them to leave you in my care, and I can only imagine how confusing this all is for you. I don’t know what your letter said, but in my letter, they reiterated their continued search for a cure for asthma. Their letter made it very clear that they’re doing everything possible to help you live a healthier, happier life. I hope you know how much both your parents love you.”
“Researching for fourteen years, Grandma?” I exclaimed, my voice filled with exasperation. “I’m sure even you don’t even believe that.”
“I know they love you.”
“If they truly loved me, they would have been present in my life instead of concentrating on scientific research. My parents didn’t want a flawed son.”
Her hand touched mine as she paused. “Ethan, you can’t possibly believe that.”
“Regardless of what I believe, the fact remains that I have asthma, and I manage it. You stood beside me, not my parents. They’ve been absent most of my life. Even if they returned now, I probably wouldn’t want to see them. I’m sorry, Grandma.” I softened my tone. “My anger is directed at them, not you, and I’m just not ready to forgive them.”
She hugged me tight and reassured me. “Ethan, I will always be here for you.”
In her arms, emotions surged within me, and tears threatened to fall. Hank and Gracie surrounded me, nuzzling their furry heads against my body in an attempt to comfort me. As I pulled away, I admitted, “Talking about them doesn’t help. It only makes matters worse.”
“I understand how you feel. Everything is going to be okay, I promise. Let’s continue our morning walk with Hank and Gracie and enjoy the day together.”
Relieved, I nodded, and we continued down the road. Hank and Gracie glanced back at me occasionally to ensure I was okay. As we walked, the various smells around us began to capture their attention more than my presence. They trotted happily alongside me, their snouts pressed to the pavement, wagging their tails as they sniffed every tree.
“It’s chilly today,” Grandma said and shivered and then glanced at me. “How are you feeling? Any shortness of breath?”
“So far, so good, but I agree it’s super cold. Maybe we can cut our walk short.”
“Good idea, and I agree.”
Hank suddenly stopped, raised his nose, and howled. A few birds scattered from the branches above, startled by his abrupt call. Had he sensed something: an approaching storm or another animal nearby? Gracie’s ears perked up as she lifted her head and let out a softer but equally determined howl. My wolves stood side by side, their eyes scanning the horizon, alert to something I couldn’t see. Hank started tugging on his leash, and I pulled backward. “What is it, Hank?”
“I don’t see anything,” Grandma said, glancing around the area.
I peered between the trees, searching and feeling compelled to understand what Hank and Gracie were sensing. “They definitely smell something. Let’s check.”
“I am not sure if it is safe, Ethan.”
“Grandma, we need to investigate. If it’s an injured animal or more abandoned pups, we can call Marsha and have her send her wildlife team out here.”
“Fair enough.” Grandma nodded.
I released the slack on Hank’s leash and commanded, “Find it!
Hank and Gracie raced ahead, tugging Grandma and me along. Our breaths rose into the air like swirls of smoke. Frost covered the road, crunching beneath our boots as we followed my wolves. As we went down the road, the trees got thicker and thicker, reaching up to the pale sky, casting shadows, and blocking out the sun.
My wolves’ noses skimmed along the damp earth, sniffing. Occasionally, they paused to circle a spot several times before continuing on their determined path with their noses once again on the ground. They sped up and tensed their bodies as they focused on the trail that led us up the hill to a cliff that looked like the entrance to a cave.
Despite the cold, beads of sweat formed on my forehead, and a tightness spread across my chest. The familiar constriction gripped my lungs the higher we climbed. I couldn't wait any longer. I needed my medicine. Fumbling in my pocket, I reached for my inhaler. I could feel Grandma’s eyes fixed on me as I struggled to breathe.
Grandma’s voice was tense as she ordered, “Stop and use your inhaler. You’re having trouble breathing.”
“Hank is pulling me too hard. I can take a puff while I’m moving.”
“Nonsense,” Grandma said, taking Hank’s leash from me and bringing both Hank and Gracie to a halt. The wolves howled in protest. “There, now they’ve stopped. Please, Ethan, use your inhaler right now, and I mean it.”
I didn’t argue and put my inhaler in my mouth, pressed the button, releasing the medication, and breathed deeply. After a few seconds of inhaling and exhaling, the pressure lessened, and I put my inhaler back in my pocket. Gradually, the tightness in my chest vanished.
“Better?”
I nodded.
“I can’t risk your health for Hank and Gracie to chase down some scent. We need to turn back.”
“No, Grandma! I’m fine. If there’s an animal in trouble, we need to save it. I’ll never forgive myself if we don’t keep going.”
Her lips formed a thin line, and her brow furrowed with disapproval. Grandma knew that Hank and Gracie were not just my pets. They knew me better than any human. They were part of our family. I felt a deep responsibility to protect all animals, and my grandma knew that.
Again, I begged, “Please, Grandma.”
After several minutes of hesitation, she finally responded, “We’ll proceed, but if you have another episode, we’re finished.” She handed Hank’s leash back to me.
I let out a sigh of relief. “Thank you. I’ll be okay. I promise.”
She huffed and waved me forward.
After hiking up the hill, we arrived at the cave, its dark entrance framed by jagged rocks. A thick fog floated within the darkness, reminding me of dry ice. I had my doubts about going inside. The cave floor could be unstable or wild animals could be hiding inside. And what if the air was thin and stale and triggered my asthma? But Hank and Gracie were insistent, pulling on their leashes to get closer.
Peering into the cave, Grandma asked, “Did you bring a flashlight?”
“No, I didn’t,” I replied, my eyes widening as a thought struck me. “I can use the app on my phone.”
When I pulled my phone out of my pocket, Hank leapt forward, yanking his leash from my grip. Gracie followed suit, breaking free from Grandma’s hand and racing after Hank. I switched on the flashlight app, flooding the cave with light. The beam flickered across dirt and jagged rocks. I pointed it upward, and Hank and Gracie running down a narrow passageway fell into view. The musty stench and distant sounds of water dripping grew stronger as we followed them.
“They must have found the source,” Grandma said, matching my pace.
My heart raced as fear tightened in my throat at the thought of something harming my wolves. “I’m freaking out,” I blurted, trying to keep my phone steady with trembling hands. I had no idea what this cave contained, whether it was safe, or what Hank and Gracie had stumbled upon. They never disobeyed me. Maybe Grandma was right about turning back.
“They’ll be fine. They’re strong creatures. Just try not to worry.”
“I’m trying not to.”
Hank barked sharply, his call signaling to me that he needed me. I rushed blindly into the cave, adrenaline coursing through me. The sound of Grandma’s boots brushing against the cave floor echoed behind me as she ran.
The flashlight beam caught something ahead, but the darkness obscured my view. Upon closer inspection, I saw Hank and Gracie circling something on the ground. Slowing down, I hoped it wasn’t an injured animal. As Grandma reached the spot ahead of me, she gasped. I stood still, unable to take another step. “Grandma, what’s going on? What is it?”
As her gaze turned toward me, she said, “Not a what, but a who. It’s a young woman, maybe 18 or 19 years old.”
“What?” I rushed forward, closing the distance to the scene. I halted just behind Grandma, who was kneeling beside an unconscious girl, curled up in a fetal position, wearing a hospital gown. Hank and Gracie stood close by. Her long strawberry blonde hair was a matted, tangled mess hanging over her face. Her pale skin stood out in contrast to the bruises and deep red cuts all over her arms, legs, and especially her bare feet. Pus oozed out of them.
Grandma was in full-on doctor mode, checking the girl’s pulse, listening to her breathing, and examining her numerous wounds. As she assessed the girl’s condition, her eyes narrowed in concentration.
“Jesus,” I whispered. “Is she alive?”
“Her pulse is weak, and her breathing is shallow, but she’s alive,” Grandma confirmed, her focus on the girl. “Her body temperature is low. It could be hypothermia. She’s wearing a wristband, but it’s not from the hospital in town.” She turned to me. “Give me your jacket. She needs to warm up.”
I removed my jacket and handed it to Grandma, who carefully wrapped it around the girl.
“We need to get her out of here and to my clinic immediately,” Grandma urged. “We can’t carry her, and I need my medical van. You’ll need to keep a close watch on her while I go get the van. Be prepared that you may have to perform CPR if her heart stops.”
My jaw dropped slowly as the weight of responsibility washed over me, sending a wave of anxiety coursing through my body. The thought of performing lifesaving measures on someone was terrifying. What if I screwed up? “I’m your bookkeeper. This is beyond my capabilities,” I said, gesturing toward the girl. “I can’t help her.”
“You can handle this. Besides, we’ve trained many times on all emergency procedures.”
The cave felt as if it were closing in around me. Memories of Grandma’s first aid lessons flooded my mind, each one a jumbled mess of instructions and distant recollections. I shook my head firmly. “No, I can’t do it. What if she wakes up and sees some guy standing over her? You know I’m not comfortable with people. She’ll probably freak out. Just let me go get the van, and you stay here.”
Grandma looked at me, as if weighing my suggestion, but her expression remained firm. “I understand your hesitation, but she needs medical treatment immediately. You’ll have to run to the house, Ethan. I can’t risk you having an asthma attack. It’s better if I go.”
The thought of being alone with an unconscious stranger filled me with anxiety. What if I made a mistake and ended up making things worse instead of better? What if her injuries worsened, and I wasn’t able to save her? Every rational part of me screamed at me to let Grandma handle it. I had to be the one to get the van. “I’ve hiked trails many times—maybe not up a mountain, but I’ve covered long distances without an episode. Plus, I have my inhaler. Please let me get the van, Grandma.”
She studied me for several minutes, probably envisioning various scenarios and their likely outcomes. After sighing, she relented. “All right. The keys to my van are in my office in the top drawer on the right side of my desk at the clinic, not my home office.”
I nodded and turned to leave but quickly faced Grandma again. My gaze shifted to Hank and Gracie. Instead of coming with me, they remained by the girl’s side. My brows furrowed in confusion. Why had they tracked her in the first place, and why were they so protective of her? Was it her injuries? The blood? The situation? It didn’t make sense.
“Ethan, what’s wrong?” Grandma asked, interrupting my thoughts.
I glanced at her before shifting my focus back to my wolves. “Hank and Gracie,” I said. “It’s odd how they’re behaving. They don’t even know this girl that they’re trying so hard to protect.”
“We can figure that out later. Right now, we need to get this girl to my clinic.” She waved me away. “Go now and hurry back. Stay safe.”
“I will.” I cast one final glance at Hank and Gracie before hurrying out of the cave.

About the Author
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Laura Daleo is an accomplished multi-genre author known for weaving captivating tales across dark fantasy, urban fantasy, supernatural/paranormal, sci-fi, and young adult fiction. Her acclaimed Immortal Kiss series showcases her unique take on vampiric lore, reimagining the origins of vampires through the lens of the Egyptian pantheon. Originally from San Diego, California, Laura now calls Tucson, Arizona home, where she shares her life with her two beloved dogs, Rose and Cooper.

Sunday, February 8, 2026

The Oath of Blood and Roses (Hearts Of Dalaria Book One) by C. M. Hano + giveaway

The Oath of Blood and Roses (Hearts Of Dalaria Book One)
by C. M. Hano
May 6, 2024
Genre: Romantasy
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
ISBN: 9781509254347
ASIN: B0CW1JZGN4
Number of pages: 322 Word Count: 95,000
Cover Artist: Lea Schizas
Love was never part of the oath.

Charming and arrogant, elite Ashana, Calian, has one serve his prince. He has never considered breaking his oath...until her.

Clover Celestia. The High Princess with a stubborn streak and a spark that incinerates his oath to ash. She’s nothing he expected and everything he needed.

Inch by inch, she slowly incinerates his defenses until he faces the truth—that all he wants is to mark his princess.

Because she’s his.

His goddess. His Fated.

Bound by the chains of her past, Princess Clover dreams of living freely. But when her parents are murdered, she’s suddenly thrust into a war she never knew existed.

As she navigates the choices—and betrayals—of her new role, she must also confront her desire for the man who forced her hand.

The Ashana. Her protector. Her Fated.

Unexpected and forbidden, theirs is a love that could destroy a realm... and doom them both.



Excerpt:
My parents are dead. I can be free if I go with him. Even if it means being bound to him until death. Alma will be safe. She is brave, selfless, and I know she will take care of the kingdom. This was a chance for me to get away from here. I won’t give him the satisfaction of kissing me. I will learn who that shadow man was and why he killed my parents.

A sacred bond that can only be enacted by using blood magic. That confirmed the suspicion that magic had come back to the realm and our goddess will be reborn again. There was a lot I didn’t know about this oath, but what I knew was that once I agree to it, I won’t be able to lie to him, kill him, or betray our original vow. That was the full extent of my knowledge of this oath, but he didn’t know that.

“Blood oath,” I spat.

“This will hurt, which is why I preferred the kiss.” He held out his right hand and then ran his blade across his palm, then across my right. I didn’t wince, and I saw the flicker of amusement on his face. I have withstood far worse pain in much more sensitive places on my body.

“Intriguing,” he said.

“Chloe, you don’t have to do this,” Alma pleaded, reaching for my left hand.

“It’ll be all right,” I told her. I am not a ruler or leader. Mother burned any chance of that out of me the day she made the first cut. But Alma, she is. That is why my next order can be said so easily.

“Once we leave, you will assume the throne. Cancel the ball and inform the other kingdoms that the entire royal family is dead because of an unforeseen accident. This man will let me make an official document having you take the throne because of my death. This is an order and not a request.” Snagging my left arm, she turned me toward her.

“Don’t do this,” Alma begged. I jerked my arm from her grip, handed her the dagger, and then turned back toward the man.

“Get on with it.”

“As you wish.” We joined our cut palms, blood mixing, and then he pulled me into him.

One hand gripped my waist, and I felt the hardness of his body against me.

“Do we have to be this close?” I asked. Completely ignoring me, he began the oath, and my mouth filled with the flavor of magic as our joined palms burned.

“Under the rights of the Blood Oath, I swear we will leave your people unharmed if you come with me willingly and without complication. If you break this oath, your people will pay with their lives. Do you swear by it?”

Our gaze didn’t falter. “Under the rights of the Blood Oath, I swear to come with you willingly and without complications, and you will leave my people unharmed. If you break this oath, you and your people will pay with their lives.” It came out a lot easier than I thought it would.

“Sheathe your swords,” he ordered his men, our eyes still locked onto each other.

“Lower your weapons,” I ordered. “Leave these quarters and don’t follow us. Don’t come after me, if any of you disobey me, you will be executed.”

“Chloe.” Alma sounded defeated, and it broke my heart.

“Draw up a parchment willing the kingdom over to her and then stamp it with the royal seal,” I ordered the man.

“You heard her.” The entire time, our bloodied hands, bodies, and eyes never faltered from their positions. I knew he was trying to intimidate me into submission, but I have been through worse with Mother. Alma and the guards left the chambers. The man stepped back from me, our embrace broken, but not our eye contact. One of his men brought over the parchment. He examined the message, and then went over to my stationary and sealed it with the royal crest that belonged to me.

“Bring that to the one called Alma. We need to get going.” He then approached me. “You are a very brave woman.” He snapped his fingers and one of his men brought over some rope.

“Is that necessary? I just swore to you I wouldn’t escape.”

“I don’t want you getting any wicked ideas about stabbing me, Princess.”

  

About the Author:
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C. M. Hano is a Fantasy Romance Author who aspires to write strong female driven, hot and magical adventures, and being a good mother. She lives in Louisiana with her husband and three beautiful children. 

Friday, February 6, 2026

JuJu Justice by T.E. Lane + giveaway

In the mystical world of voodoo culture, justice is not always black and white

JuJu Justice
by T.E. Lane
February 17, 2026
Genres: Supernatural Thriller
JuJu Justice is a gritty suspsense drama set in the belly of the New Orleans voodoo culture, pitting a juju priestess against her dangerous childhood nemesis in a war between good and evil. This much anticipated new drama is T.E. Lane's second novel, based on their award-winning screenplay. Fans of mystery, crime, paranormal, and action/thrillers will love this book!

Deep in the Louisiana river bottoms, the legendary "swamp witch" Mama Moo must decide who to share her juju with—the white light voodoo priestess or the black magic criminal mastermind. Her seemingly obvious choice is complicated by long-buried secrets that will determine who lives or dies.

June Mae, a white-light practitioner, faces off against her childhood nemesis, Mister—a well-connected criminal who practices the dark side of voodoo. When June’s straight-laced sister April drops into town for an unplanned visit, she quickly understands the dangerous world that June inhabits. As the sisters reconcile past traumas and reconnect, June must overcome her fears to face Mister in a voodoo battle to save their lives. Their mentor, the “swamp witch” Mama Moo, faces a perilous choice which will determine who lives or dies.


The screenplay has won five script awards:
*Semifinalist Your Script Produced 4th Edition 2025
*Semifinalist Los Angeles International Screenplay Awards
*Official Finalist NYISA Best Feature Screenplay Award
*Second Rounder Austin Film Festival Screenplay Competition
*Quarterfinalist Manchester Film Festival
What readers are saying:
“JuJu Justice spins a tale that is both intriguing and culturally rich . . . JuJu Justice enthralls viewers with a combination of magical intrigue and Southern Gothic drama." - NYISA

"JuJu Justice creates a supernatural stage filled with spirits, ghosts,murder, and deception . . . with a skillful blend of supernatural elements with deeper themes of family and responsibility." -Austin Film Festival 
**New Release on February 17!**








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Every T.E. Lane story begins with family at its core and spirals into mystery, action, and a touch of the supernatural. It’s a place where magic always feels possible, the coincidences may not be so coincidental, and the line between reality and something more is always worth crossing.

T.E. Lane writes screenplays and fiction. A fan of action, thriller, mystery, and literary fiction, the author enjoys blending aspects of many genres into a single work, creating a unique reading experience that will keep you turning the pages. Connect with the author on social media @telane_author.


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