New Dark Romantasy Release: Blood of the Blackthorn (The Eternal Curse Book 1) by Rocio Carranza

We're celebrating the release of Blood of the Blackthorn this week! Available March 11th!

 

Blood of the Blackthorn (The Eternal Curse Book 1)

by Rocio Carranza

March 11, 2025 

Genre: Dark Romantasy 

🥀Forbidden Love 

🩸Magic & Witchcraft 

🥀Unreliable Prophecy 

🩸Political Intrigue 

🥀Secrets & Betrayal 

🩸Feminine Rage 

HOW FAR ARE YOU WILLING TO GO TO KEEP YOUR SECRETS?

 

After years of living as a lady in the Givensmir court - a life of luxury and opulence - Eve's past has slowly come back to haunt her. One of secrets and magic that courses through her veins, thought to have been long forgotten. Now, a princess lies mysteriously dead before her in the great hall. The eyes of the duplicitous court are everywhere. And there is nowhere left to hide. In a realm known for its witch hunts and the ongoing conflict with the Blackthorn, the kingdom of witchcraft across the treacherous Dallise Sea, Eve now finds herself on the wrong side of this war. And the time to escape is running out.

 AVAILABLE ON AMAZON 

 

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Excerpt: Stone Guardian (Masonry, Magic, and Love, #1) Gayle Katz + giveaway

Stone Guardian (Masonry, Magic, and Love, #1)
Gayle Katz
March 4th 2022
Genres: Paranormal, Romance
No Steam! No Spice! Gargoyles are immovable statues of stone. Lifeless, the librarian thought, until one of them takes flight to save her from an untimely demise.

A kindhearted but lonely librarian. Nancy is drowning under the weight of an abusive boyfriend, failing grades, and looming unemployment. While at work, she confides her deepest, darkest secrets to the gargoyle perched near her desk. But she’s unprepared when the strange stone statue comes to life.

A gentle gargoyle born under a curse. Treyton can’t believe it. In the past century that he’s been guarding the beloved Victorian library he calls home, the lonesome man never had anyone notice him until now. And he’s enchanted by the beautiful woman yearning for true love under his watchful gaze. But the witch who gave him life wants him back. And she’s willing to kill anyone who stands in her way.

As his vile witch plots against them, will Nancy and Treyton be torn apart forever, or can they overcome the evil threatening their love — and their lives?

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Get the complete series HERE!

EXCERPT:
It was the screams that woke Nancy.

They were bloodcurdling, gut-wrenching howls filled with nothing but pain. It was unlike anything Nancy had ever heard before.

Gasping for breath, Nancy’s eyes flew open. She pitched forward and peered around her with bleary eyes, trying to figure out which of her neighbors must have been shrieking … but instead of her ceiling and her warm blankets, she found herself lying in a heap on the side of a dirt road.

Above her, gray clouds swirled through the frigid night. Snowflakes drifted down and clung to her lashes and her hair.

Why was she outside? The last thing she remembered was diving into bed after Diana left.

Panic filled her as she rolled clumsily onto her arms and knees, finding her legs twisted and tangled in endless yards of fabric. It was only when she managed to drag herself to her feet by gripping a lantern-lit street post that she realized she was no longer in her Wonder Woman pajamas. She was dressed in a long-sleeved frock that swirled around her ankles. She grabbed at the thick fabric, tugging and pulling at it, until she realized that she was wearing some sort of antiquated dress and a petticoat.

“I must be dreaming,” Nancy whimpered, but she was hardly able to hear herself over the screams still echoing around her.

Her chest heaving, Nancy stumbled down the dirt road. She had to find someone, anyone, to tell her where she was and what was going on. This place was unrecognizable to her. There were only ten houses on this small road, as well as a building Nancy assumed was some sort of general store. There was also something almost familiar about the budding town, though Nancy could not put her finger on what it was—especially when she realized that flames licked up toward the sky from most of the buildings. Heat emanated from them, battling with the wintry chill of the air.

Nancy froze. She could only stare as the townspeople ran around wildly and begged for help. Suddenly, men on horses charged through the village, some swinging swords and guns while others aimed flaming arrows at people and homes.

“The outsiders are attacking!” someone screamed before getting cut down before Nancy’s very eyes.

“No … no!” shrieked Nancy. “Wake up, please! I don’t want to be here anymore!”

About the Author:
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Daring Women. Dangerous Worlds.

Gayle is a fan of zombies, sci-fi fantasy romance, and psychological horror—though not necessarily in that order. She writes the kinds of books she wants to read but often can’t find. Hoping to scare you, make you swoon, and root for her characters, her love of kick-butt heroines and sassy snark shines through in her work.

Born and raised outside of Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, Gayle lives with her husband and they are currently working on their own happily ever after.

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Excerpt: Kestrel's Dance (Mad Kestrel #2) by Misty Massey + giveaway

Kestrel's Dance (Mad Kestrel #2)

by Misty Massey

June 24, 2022

ASIN:‎ B09YC8JSP5
Publisher:‎ Lore Seekers Press
Print length:‎ 319 pages

Kestrel, the King's Privateer, is preparing to wait out the annual storm season when she receives an unexpected royal order to capture and deliver a rare creature for the king’s menagerie. Before she can weigh anchor, news reaches Kestrel of a long-ago friend in desperate need of help—in the opposite direction of her assigned voyage. In addition, her ship may be haunted by something big, loud, and terrifying.

Before Kestrel can plot a course, she crosses paths with an enigmatic dancer who offers an enticing bargain: sail her home to the Continent, an ocean away, and she'll reveal the mysteries of magic Kestrel has longed all her life to know.

The temptation of answers endangers her crew and might ruin her privateer status. Worse, taking on this passenger could thrust her into the clutches of the ever-watchful Danisoban mages who lie in wait for her to make the perfect mistake.

Every decision is fraught with danger. Each wrong turn may mean her death or the death of her crew. And Captain Kestrel can walk away from none of them.

Kestrel, the pirate who can whistle up the wind, returns in book two of the Mad Kestrel Series. Captain Kes will defy the king, gamble with her friends' lives, and run the risk of capture by evil mages to get her hands on the magical knowledge so long denied to her.

Review from Booklist for The Mad Kestrel Series:

Massey debuts with a colorful romp through strange lands and stranger seas. In a world in which magic is a monopoly of the Danisobans, and all children showing signs of power are taken from their parents and raised by that order, young Kestrel had hidden her talent and eventually escaped to sea, where magic is cancelled by water. Now risen to the post of quartermaster of a pirate ship, she loves her life. But to keep it, she must never let anyone know that she can magically control the wind. When her captain is entrapped and arrested, the young quartermaster must gather and command the crew for a rescue. That takes all the strength and wit Kestrel can command—and guarded use of her magic. This Errol Flynn–ish swashbuckler features loads of action and larger-than-life characters, plausibly grounded in the realities of life at sea. A real page-turner, and a successor is in the works.

Amazon

Excerpt One

“I’m waiting for someone.”

The man pulled out a chair with his foot, and seated himself, pushing a mug to her. “I’ll wait with you, then. Name’s Tooley.”

Direct, this one. No flowery poetry to try and sweep her off her feet. He probably didn’t know enough words to call a pup to heel, much less to romance a woman. Back at the table, several of his fellows were smirking and nudging each other. One fellow reached into his jerkin, pulled out a paper bill and laid it on top of a growing stack. A betting stack, but no one was tossing the cubes. There was only one other chance they might be betting on. If there was a wager on his success, someone was about to be disappointed.

Kestrel watched the foam in the mug dissipate in slow, languid pops. “Best if you press on now, lad.” He cleared his throat. “There’s a right lot of wicked fellows about. What kind of gentleman would I be if I left a lady undefended?”

She leaned back in her chair, and laid her hand on the leather dagger scabbard strapped to her thigh. “A lady I’m not.”

He waggled his eyebrows in a way that he must have thought was appealing, but only reminded Kestrel of wooly worms writhing in the sun. “You’re going to be more of a challenge than I thought, Captain.”

 

“You know me.”

Tooley scooted his chair closer, and took a swig from his mug. “Aye, sweeting. I’m the man what’ll be winning you.”

The others were huddling closer to each other, their laughter now unmistakable. She wondered whether he was the best they had, or whether they were hoping to embarrass their companion by watching him fail so publicly. It didn’t matter much either way. Kestrel pushed the ale back toward her suitor. “You’ve lost your bet. I’m not interested. If I was, I wouldn’t choose a man who’d lay money on my knees parting.”

Guffaws exploded from the crowd behind him, and money began changing hands. Kestrel didn’t join in. She kept her gaze fixed on Tooley.
Color drained from his face. His jaw tightened. Slowly, he rose to his feet, took another swallow of ale, and set his mug down on the table. “No woman tells me what I can bet on,” he said, his voice measured. “Think you’re above me, do you?” Reaching down, he grabbed his mug and flung the contents in her direction. Ale splashed across the table, filling the air with its pungent tang.
Kestrel rolled out of her chair, drew her dagger and dropped into a fighting crouch. There was nothing for it now. 

“You’ve spilled your beer,” she said.

Tooley growled, low in his throat. He drew his own weapon. A knife, with a wicked serrated blade. She’d read the signs aright. And now he was between her and the door.

About the Author:

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Misty Massey is the author of Mad Kestrel, a rollicking adventure of magic on the high seas, Kestrel’s Voyages, a collection of short stories featuring those rambunctious pirates, and the upcoming Kestrel’s Dance. She is a co-editor of The Weird Wild West and Lawless Lands: Tales of the Weird Frontier, and was a founding member of Magical Words. Her short fiction has appeared in many anthologies and she’s working on a series of Shadow Council novellas for Falstaff Press featuring the famous gunslinger Doc Holliday. When she’s not writing, Misty studies and performs Middle Eastern dance and will, on occasion, surprise everyone with a batch of home-baked snickerdoodles. She’s a sucker for good sushi, African coffee, SC Gamecock football, and the darkest rum she can find. You can keep up with what Misty’s doing at mistymassey.com, Facebook and Twitter.​

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Exclusive Excerpt: Kestrel's Dance by Misty Massey + giveaway

Kestrel's Dance
by Misty Massey
June 24, 2022
Kestrel, the pirate who can whistle up the wind, returns in book two of the Mad Kestrel Series. Captain Kes will defy the king, gamble with her friends' lives, and run the risk of capture by evil mages to get her hands on the magical knowledge so long denied to her.

Kestrel, the King's Privateer, is preparing to wait out the annual storm season when she receives an unexpected royal order to capture and deliver a rare creature for the king’s menagerie. Before she can weigh anchor, news reaches Kestrel of a long-ago friend in desperate need of help—in the opposite direction of her assigned voyage. In addition, her ship may be haunted by something big, loud, and terrifying.

Before Kestrel can plot a course, she crosses paths with an enigmatic dancer who offers an enticing bargain: sail her home to the Continent, an ocean away, and she'll reveal the mysteries of magic Kestrel has longed all her life to know.

The temptation of answers endangers her crew and might ruin her privateer status. Worse, taking on this passenger could thrust her into the clutches of the ever-watchful Danisoban mages who lie in wait for her to make the perfect mistake.

Every decision is fraught with danger. Each wrong turn may mean her death or the death of her crew. And Captain Kestrel can walk away from none of them.

Amazon-B&N

Book 1

Exclusive Excerpt Four:
Shadd climbed up from the lower deck hatch. His shaggy hair was more disheveled than usual, soot stained his cheeks and his homespun tunic was hanging loose.
“What the hell’s happening?” she bellowed, not waiting for him to come any closer.
“I thought you said a storm’s comin’, but there ain’t no wind nor chop.” He shoved the ends of his tunic into his breeches.
“Gundeck secure?”
“As the Mayor of Pecheta’s strongbox, Captain, aye.”
The sudden moaning was long, and loud, an eerie wail raising gooseflesh on her arms. It shuddered up through the decks and vibrated her very bones. No way this was thunder. At the same instant, the ship’s timbers groaned in wooden agony. The Thanos began shaking. Mildly at first, increasing in intensity until the barrels tied to the mast rattled against the wooden deck. The ship tilted, and Kestrel skipped a few steps, fighting to maintain her balance. Oil splashed out of the lanterns on that side, throwing the deck into heavier shadow. She grabbed onto Shadd’s shirt, trying to keep from tumbling to the deck. Men in the rigging cried out at the unexpected lurch. The ship righted itself, and Kestrel let her quartermaster go.
“Earthquake?” she asked.
“At this depth?” He frowned, clearly puzzled. “Most we’d feel would be a heavier roll.”
“If that’s not it—” she stopped, confused. They stared at each other helplessly.
Deafening clanking exploded over the thunder. The capstan, the huge spool on which the messenger rope was wound, began to spin, slowly at first, then building up speed. It unwound its long rope, the anchor chain to which the rope was attached banging against the hull loud enough to be heard on deck. Two men were standing nearby, watching helplessly as the spokes shot past in a blur. The rope whined dangerously.
Kestrel took the ladder two steps at a time, sprinting across the deck toward the capstan. “Why’s it playing out so fast?” “Don’t know, Captain,” David DeadEye cried. “The bight slipped right off, and around she went.”
“Like a fish with a hook,” yelled Hudee.
Shadd caught up to her, panting. “What’s happenin’?”
“We have to stop the anchor!”

About the Author:

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Misty Massey is the author of Mad Kestrel, a rollicking adventure of magic on the high seas, Kestrel’s Voyages, a collection of short stories featuring those rambunctious pirates, and the upcoming Kestrel’s Dance. She is a co-editor of The Weird Wild West and Lawless Lands: Tales of the Weird Frontier, and was a founding member of Magical Words. Her short fiction has appeared in many anthologies and she’s working on a series of Shadow Council novellas for Falstaff Press featuring the famous gunslinger Doc Holliday. When she’s not writing, Misty studies and performs Middle Eastern dance and will, on occasion, surprise everyone with a batch of home-baked snickerdoodles. She’s a sucker for good sushi, African coffee, SC Gamecock football, and the darkest rum she can find. You can keep up with what Misty’s doing at mistymassey.com, Facebook and Twitter.​

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Cover Reveal + New Release: Kestrel's Dance by Misty Massey

Kestrel's Dance
by Misty Massey
June 24, 2022
Kestrel, the pirate who can whistle up the wind, returns in book two of the Mad Kestrel Series. Captain Kes will defy the king, gamble with her friends' lives, and run the risk of capture by evil mages to get her hands on the magical knowledge so long denied to her.

Kestrel, the King's Privateer, is preparing to wait out the annual storm season when she receives an unexpected royal order to capture and deliver a rare creature for the king’s menagerie. Before she can weigh anchor, news reaches Kestrel of a long-ago friend in desperate need of help—in the opposite direction of her assigned voyage. In addition, her ship may be haunted by something big, loud, and terrifying.

Before Kestrel can plot a course, she crosses paths with an enigmatic dancer who offers an enticing bargain: sail her home to the Continent, an ocean away, and she'll reveal the mysteries of magic Kestrel has longed all her life to know.

The temptation of answers endangers her crew and might ruin her privateer status. Worse, taking on this passenger could thrust her into the clutches of the ever-watchful Danisoban mages who lie in wait for her to make the perfect mistake.

Every decision is fraught with danger. Each wrong turn may mean her death or the death of her crew. And Captain Kestrel can walk away from none of them.

Amazon-B&N

About the Author:

Website-FB-Twitter

Amazon-Goodreads

Misty Massey is the author of Mad Kestrel, a rollicking adventure of magic on the high seas, and the long-awaited sequel, Kestrel’s Dance. She is an acquisitions editor for LoreSeekers Press, and is currently accepting submissions. When she’s not writing, Misty plays Malibu, the cheerful, sun-drenched cleric, on the Authors and Dragons podcast sister show, Calamity Janes.

Excerpt: The Black Diamond and the Witch’s Curse by T-Pot

The Black Diamond and the Witch’s Curse

by T-Pot 

October 27, 2021
Genre: Urban Fantasy/ Fantasy/ BIPOC
To most people, it appears as if Derek James is a typical college freshman. Yes, he is on a football scholarship at one of the most prestigious universities in the country, but other than that, he appears quite ordinary. But there is an extraordinary secret that Derek is harboring: he is a warlock! When he runs into fellow freshmen Matthias, Omar, and Tre’Vell, he is surprised to learn that they are also warlocks! Shortly after they all meet, however, the freshmen start getting attacked by terrifying monsters. Now, the four fast friends must overcome doubts and disagreements in order to discover the source of the attacks. But it may go deeper than any of them realize.

Amazon

Arrival

It was hot. This had to be the hottest day of the summer. Even though Move-In Day for the rest of the students was still two weeks away, Derek James was moving into his dorm early, as was the case with the rest of the football team.

He was excited to be starting his first year of college at Word University, especially because he was finally getting out from under his mother’s overprotective eye.

“Mom, I really didn’t need you to help me move in. I got it,” Derek said. “Boy, if I let you move in by yourself, who knows what your room’s gonna look like? Besides, I want to meet your roommate,” his mother, Valerie James, responded.

“Dad trusted me. I asked him not to come, and he didn’t.”

“Well, I’m not your dad,” Valerie said. “And I gotta make sure that my baby is all right.”

“Mom, I’m eighteen. Can you not call me ‘baby’?” Derek sighed.

“I’m your mother. You will always be my baby, no matter how old you get.” “That don’t mean you gotta call me that,” Derek grumbled.

“Whatever. Don’t back talk. Now, are we gonna put these things in your room or are we gonna stand here at the car talking all day?”

Derek’s room was on the fifth f loor, the highest f loor in the dorm. Derek looked up at the stately building, with the sun glistening off the windows, and thought that maybe he could use the help. “Okay, I’ll carry the minifridge up. You can take that trunk of clothes. I’ll meet you up there. Remember, it’s room 510B,” Derek decided. As he watched his mom carry the trunk into the building, he wiped the sweat from his brow. Man, he just couldn’t believe how hot it was!

Just as he was about to pick up the fridge, he noticed a couple of girls watching him, probably cheerleaders, also moving in that day. He took his shirt off, which by now was drenched, and revealed his impressive athlete’s physique. He heard the girls start to giggle. Satisfied, he smirked, tossed the shirt into the car, picked up the minifridge, and made his way up the steps to meet his mom at his room.

As he made his way up to the top of the stairs, Derek could see his mom standing at the door of what he could only presume was his room. As he walked down the hallway, he saw his mom give him a look that made him feel this big. When he got to his room, Derek dropped the fridge with a thud! and glanced up at his mom.

“Derek, what are you doing with your shirt off?” Valerie admonished. “Man, it’s burning up outside! My shirt felt like I just took it out the washing machine!” Derek said.

“It ain’t that hot outside. You know I ain’t raise you like that. You ain’t the only person out here!”

“Mom, it’s like one hundred degrees outside and I ain’t want my shirt to be sticking to me. It’s not that big a deal,” Derek pleaded.

She sighed. “Just open the door,” Valerie said as she shook her head in disapproval.

Derek took the key from his pocket and opened the door to his dorm. Inside the room were two wooden desks, two dressers, and two closets. The walls were stark white. It was plain, but Derek had to admit that it was bigger than he had expected. It was bigger than his room at home. He had to keep in mind, though, that unlike at home, he had to share this with another person.

“How much more stuff do you have to bring up?” Valerie asked.

“Well, I got my TV, book bag, the rest of my clothes, and the book,” answered Derek.

“Oh my god! I don’t feel like going back up and down those steps,” exclaimed Valerie.

“Look, you the one that wanted to help me move in. Besides, I could be up and back by myself real quick,” suggested Derek.

“No.”

“But since I been up here, I can do it. It’s not that far and—” Derek started. “No, Derek! What if somebody saw you? Don’t risk it. It’s just one more trip.

I’m just getting old, is all. Don’t mind my complaining,” Valerie said. “Come on.” After bringing up the rest of Derek’s stuff, it was time for Valerie to go. “Okay, are you sure you got everything?” “Yes, Mom.”

“Laptop? Toothpaste? Deodorant?” “Yes, Mom.”

“Razor?”

“Yes.” “Condoms?”

“What? Come on, Mom!”

“Well, like you said, you’re eighteen. I went to college. I know what’s up,” Valerie said.

“I’m gonna act like we ain’t really talking about this,” said Derek, desperately wishing his mom would change the subject.

“Okay, I can take a hint. And you’re sure you have the book? And anything else you would need?” Valerie inquired.

“Yeah. Positive.”

“I still can’t believe your dad let you take it with you,” Valerie said.

“I guess he figured that I’m old enough for the responsibility,” said Derek. “Guess so,” Valerie said as her eyes began to well up with tears.

“Aw come on, Mom, don’t start crying.”

“I can’t help it. My baby is all grown up and leaving me.”

“Mom, it’s not that far away. And you know I can always pop in whenever I want. It’s close enough for me to make the trip.”

“I know. Okay, give me a hug before I go.” Derek gave his mom a big warm hug. She got into her car and Derek waved as her car slowly faded into the distance.

Derek turned to go back up to his room. As he began to make his way up the steps leading to the front entrance, a black Nissan Altima rolled past a couple of cars filled with other students in the process of moving in and pulled up in the fire lane in front of the building. What was intriguing to Derek about this car was that the driver had Kendrick Lamar’s “Backseat Freestyle” blasting from the speakers. Derek could appreciate this guy’s taste in music! He walked up to the car as the driver, a stocky-looking guy, got out.

“Ay yo, you ride with Kendrick Lamar?” Derek asked, impressed. “Of course, my brotha. You a fan?” the driver asked.

“Man, I got Good Kid, M.A.A.D City in heavy rotation on my iPod,” Derek responded.

“Oh a’ight. I been a fan of Kendrick since Section.80,” the guy said. “I assume you’re on the football team.”

“Yeah, wide receiver. You?” “Running back.”

“Cool, cool. I’m Derek, by the way,” Derek said as he introduced himself. “I think my roommate’s name is Derek. My name is Bruce. Bruce Graves.” “Yup, I’m definitely your roommate. Well, I just got done putting my stuff up in the room. If you want, I can help you carry some stuff up,” Derek offered. “Okay, good looking out,” Bruce said, relieved he had some help.

After Derek and Bruce were finished unloading Bruce’s car, they decided to arrange the room to their liking. Bruce said, “Let’s put my bed on that wall and yours on the opposite one. That way, we could put the desks right near the windows and the TV can go on the refrigerator in the corner.”

“Okay, I’m good with that. I’ll put my dresser by my bed. I kind of figured that these walls were gonna be bare so I brought us some posters to liven up the place,” Derek said. He threw up some posters of scantily clad chocolate-skinned models and celebrity females.

“Definitely better,” Bruce said approvingly. Derek laughed. “I thought you’d approve.”

As the two started to unpack their belongings, Bruce noticed a strange- looking book that fell out of Derek’s backpack. “What type of classes are you taking?” Bruce asked. “You already got some of your books?”

“Why?” Derek turned and asked.

Bruce pointed to Derek’s backpack. “Did you get to register early? What class takes that book? That jawn looks cool,” Bruce said. The book was large and looked about four inches thick. It was a hardback, yet bound in black leather. On the cover was a picture of a majestic roaring golden lion, with a clawed paw raised toward the sky. Bruce thought the book looked old.

Derek quickly moved to pick up the book and put it back in the backpack. “Nah, this book is mine. My dad gave it to me. It’s kind of a family heirloom,” Derek nervously said.

“Heirloom?” Bruce asked perplexingly.

“Yeah,” Derek responded. “It’s been passed down in my family since we was brought over from Africa. It means a lot.”

“Yo, that’s cool. Can I see?” Bruce asked.

“Um,” Derek hesitated. “It’s just my dad has this thing about nobody else handling it. Like I said, it’s real old and real important.”

Bruce looked slightly disappointed. “Oh. No problem. I understand.” An uncomfortable and awkward silence settled between the two.

“So where you from?” Derek asked, trying to lighten the mood.

“I was born in Pittsburg,” Bruce answered. “I’ve lived in Philly for the past twelve years though. You?”

“Oh, I’m from right here, Pottington. I actually live, like, a couple miles from here.”

“Oh, so you know your way around this city. Know all the places to go where all the honeys at, am I right?” Bruce joked.

“Of course. This is my city. I got you covered,” Derek said. “But I got a feeling that you won’t have to go far to find a lot of bad chicks, if you know what I’m saying,” Derek suggestively offered.

“You think the girls at this school got it like that?” Bruce asked.

“Look, dawg. Not only do they look good, but you gotta remember that Word U is the best HBCU in the nation. These chicks got their heads on straight and the looks to match,” said Derek.

“Shit, well, if that’s the case, I think I’m gonna have a very fun year,” Bruce said.

Bruce’s stomach began to growl. “I’m about to go get something to eat,” he said.

“Okay, I already ate. I’ll holla at you later,” Derek said.

As soon as Bruce left the room, Derek booted up his laptop. Once he was logged on, he opened a Skype chat; and soon enough, a man appeared on the screen on the other end of the call. In the background were a few portraits and a TV. It appeared to be a living room. The chocolate-skinned man, the same complexion as Derek himself, was wearing a white undershirt and looked to be in his mid-forties. He had sprinkles of gray in his hair and a neatly trimmed goatee. A thin pair of reading glasses covered a pair of eyes that would lead someone to believe that this man had seen a lot in life.

The man smiled. “I was wondering when you would finally get around to calling me,” he said.

Derek laughed. “What’s up, Dad?”

About the Author
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Terrence, born to Shawn and Clarence Potter in 1990, lived in Wilmington, Delaware, until the age of seven, when he moved to New Castle. He graduated from Howard High School before moving on the University of Delaware, graduating in 2012. He decided to begin his writing career a year after that. He chose to create fantasy stories featuring characters from under-represented and minority populations. His first book in the Black Diamond series, The Black Diamond and the Witch’s Curse, was published in 2016. The second, The Black Diamond and the Magic box, was published in 2019.

Twitter Tags: @TheBlackDia @RRBookTours1 #RRBookTours

IG Tags: @rrbooktours #rrbooktours #TheBlackDiamondSeries #TheBlackDiamondandtheWitchsCurse #Fantasy #BIPOC

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Pre-order: Becoming Crone (The Crone Wars Book 1) by Lydia M. Hawke

Becoming Crone (The Crone Wars Book 1)
by Lydia M. Hawke
June 17, 2021
She wanted purpose. She found dark magick and war.

For Claire Emerson, there is nothing ordinary about turning sixty.

First, there are the crows. Then, a pendant that unlocks a gate to a house in the woods--which comes with a snarky gargoyle, an entirely too-sexy wolf shifter claiming to be Claire's protector, and a legacy that turns her reality upside down.

Because divorced, menopausal grandmothers with creaky hips and hot flashes? They don't just randomly discover they're next in a long line of powerful women protecting the world from the dark magick of Mages.

Claire's first instinct is to turn tail and run back to the safety of baking cookies and reading bedtime stories. But when it becomes clear the Mages have targeted her, she may have no choice but to accept her calling. There's just one problem: she never got the lifetime of training she was supposed to have, and her magick is... well, unreliable would be an understatement.

With the Mages threatening everything she loves, can Claire learn what she needs to in time to become Crone? Or will she be the one to lose an ancient war—and her life?

Amazon

A Gathering of Crones (The Crone Wars Book 2) 

Coming January 18, 2022

About the Author:

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Lydia M. Hawke is a writer possessed of both a light side and a dark one. On the dark side, she’s the author of the Grigori Legacy, an apocalyptic urban fantasy series featuring a hard-as-nails cop caught up in the war between Heaven and Hell. In her lighter moments, she writes romances (contemporary and suspense) as Linda Poitevin. And when she’s not plotting the world’s downfall or next great love story, she’s a wife, mom, friend, coffee snob, gardener, walker of a Giant Dog, keeper of many pets, and an avid food preserver (you know, just in case that whole Zombie Apocalypse thing really happens).

Book Review: Grave Destiny (An Alex Craft Novel Book 6) by Kalayna Price

Grave Destiny (An Alex Craft Novel Book 6)
by Kalayna Price

April 2, 2019
Publisher: Ace

Pages: 383

The thrilling sixth book in the USA Today bestselling Alex Craft series.

Grave witch Alex Craft can speak to the dead, and that makes her a dangerous enemy for anyone with something to hide. . .

Alex is still trying to come to terms with her changing powers and her growing ties to Faerie when a case she’d rather avoid falls right into her lap. A fae prince desperately needs Alex to investigate a politically sensitive murder. She reluctantly agrees to the case, taking FIB agent Falin Andrews along as her backup.

But as Alex begins to delve into the mystery, she realizes that the intricate web of alliances and intrigue in the Faerie courts is strained to its limits. War is about to break out, one that threatens to spill over into the mortal realm. This murder is tied right to the center of centuries-old arcane unrest, and if Alex isn’t careful she may follow the twisting path ahead of her right into her grave end.

As a grave witch Alex can speak to the dead, which she uses to run her investigative agency Tongues for the Dead which has been dying a slow death lately. When Dugan, a prince of the shadow court shows up unexpectantly with a case she decides to take the case with Falin as her backup. As the trio investigate the murders, things in Faerie go from bad to worse in a matter of time.

Alex has many mysteries surrounding her and her magic which makes the stories intriguing. She has a tender heart and is a loyal person which makes her the perfect heroine for this series. Book 6 sets the stage for the future and what hopefully will lead to more.

Review: Grave Witch (Alex Craft #1)
Review: Grave Visions (An Alex Craft Novel Book 4) 
Review: Grave Ransom (An Alex Craft Novel Book 5) 

Getting 5 sheep

Denise B

About the Author:

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USA Today Bestselling author Kalayna Price writes the Alex Craft Novels, a new dark urban fantasy series from Roc, and the Novels of Haven from Bell Bridge Books. Her works have been translated into several languages and are available (or have been contracted for release) in the US, UK, Australia, New Zealand, France, Poland, Russia, and Germany. Kalayna draws her ideas from the world around her, her studies into ancient mythologies, and her obsession with classic folklore. Her stories contain not only the mystical elements of fantasy, but also a dash of romance, a bit of gritty horror, some humor, and a large serving of mystery. Kalayna is a member of SFWA and RWA, and an avid hula-hoop dancer who has been known light her hoop on fire.

Fantasy Author Sam Poling: That time I wrote a humorous play with my characters + giveaway

The Oldenrai Archives: Play

I've never shown this to anyone before, but I once started writing a play addition for my novel series. The play was to take place between books one and two, and feature an adventure had by Felix and Mirabel.

It started with Felix on the stake being burned for heresy and witchcraft, before Mirabel rescues him only to scold him for being careless. I didn't revise what I'd written at all, and scrapped the idea early on, but I do still have the opening scene saved. I both love and hate it, and I didn't intend for it to see the light of day in this state. Read it with that in mind.
Also important to note: this was written in a more humorous tone. My novels often have humor incorporated into them, but generally follow are darker tone than advertised here.

Overall, my favorite aspect is how cool it would be to not only open a play with a heretic burning, but to involve the audience. The idea was to pull them into the scene, by treating them as though they were the townspeople onlookers. Foam rocks would be passed out to them, and they'd be encourage to toss them at the Felix (even though it's clear he's innocent by today's standards).
Please enjoy!

OLDENRAI PLAY

FELIX, PRIESTESS, SABLE, and ESTER stand around a staged pyre in a town square. Felix is strapped to the pyre, his hands behind his back. Priestess stands off center, reading from a scroll. Sable stands guard nearer Priestess, while Ester stands guard nearer Felix.

PRIESTESS

Praise Tordin, for he loves us all, even the heretics. We commit you to the pyre of righteousness, so that you might experience his glory upon your death. We commit you to fire, for with fire, Tordin purifies, and Tordin forgives.

FELIX

i’m not a witch, do I look like a witch?

SABLE

Strapped to that pyre you do.

FELIX

You put me on the pyre!

SABLE

Of course we did; that’s where you put witches.

FELIX

This is absurd. I don’t have any magical powers, and witches are women.

PRIESTESS

Nay. As it is written, witches may fall anywhere on the gender spectrum.

FELIX

What sort of chance does that give me?

PRIESTESS

Ester, prepare the torch.

ESTER

Aye. [Prepares torch.]

FELIX

[Kicking and squirming.] Wait, wait, wait! I never had a trial.

PRIESTESS

This is your trial. God’s trial.

FELIX

Then I’d like to call a witness.

PRIESTESS

God is the only witness we need.

FELIX

How did I know you’d say that. Listen, fair trials generally to begin with the accused already adhered to their perspective punishment.

SABLE

Did he just say blasphemy? Priestess, was that blasphemy?

PRIESTESS

Calm yourself, Sable.

SABLE

But he questioned the trial.

PRIESTESS

Felix Eggland. Do not question the trial. It is a sin.

FELIX

Oh, right. Wouldn’t want to do that. Might get burned.

PRIESTESS

As per the writ, you may speak your final testimony.

FELIX

I’m not a witch. I’m an alchemist. I mix medications using herbs and science. Just innocent herbs and science.

ESTER

Half of the time science is witchcraft, Eggland.

FELIX

No it isn’t. Where in the Tordin’s Glory the Order does it say that?

SABLE

Heresy?

PRIESTESS

[To Sable] Calm yourself, Sable. [To Felix] It says it in Light’s Radiant Rising Dawn, fourteen eight, From the corrupt sciences of man is born the technology of thine own destruction. They, those men of the ancient tech, through their hubris do they blaspheme the Lord.

FELIX

But I was just fighting the plague. No hubris.

ESTER

Plagues are born from only one of two things: Tordin’s will, or witchcraft. You either defied Tordin’s nature, or you created the disease to begin with.

FELIX

Tordin doesn’t just want you to die without fighting back.

SABLE

Heresy!

FELIX

No, stop! Shut up! Listen, the church uses science all the time. You use math, don’t you?

PRIESTESS

The only math we require is Tordin’s love.

FELIX

Huh? Excuse me? Run that by me again.

ESTER

If you’re so good at math, Eggland, count to one. Because whether you’ve made peace or not, that’s how many witches we’re burning today.

FELIX

I think we should leave it at zero.

SABLE

Did you hear that, Priestess?

PRIESTESS

Zero is a demonic number. An unholy concept.

FELIX

Wait, no, but you can’t have math without zero. How do you keep count of things?

PRIESTESS

Confusion is a sign of doubt. Doubt is a sign of heresy.

FELIX

Okay, so you have two hens, then you sell two to your neighbor. How many hens do you have left?

ESTER

You have none.

FELIX

Yes, none. Synonymous with zero.

SABLE

[Shouting manically and pointing at Felix.] Heresy! Heresy!

FELIX

No, no heresy! Stop that! No heresy!

ESTER

You’re only adding to your sins, Eggland.

FELIX

What does that matter? You’re already killing me.

ESTER

Fire burns hotter the more evil it has to feed on.

FELIX

See, that’s what I’m talking about. That isn’t good science.

SABLE

Blasphemy!

FELIX

No blasphemy, no blasphemy anything!

PRIESTESS

Your testimony has concluded, alchemist.

FELIX

I thought I was supposed to be a witch.

PRIESTESS

Whatever. Ester, commence the heretic burning.

FELIX

[Frantic] Wait, this is miscarriage of justice. I appeal. I demand a retrial. Jury by peers. A thirty day grace period. A last meal.

ESTER

This is why we used to gag and bag heretics. Try to die with a little dignity, would ya?

FELIX

I’m allergic to fire.

Ester drops the torch onto the pyre at Felix’s feet. A small fire starts. Felix panics and squirms away from the flame, blowing in its direction and shouting desperate pleas.

Sable picks up a basket of rocks (foam chunks) to distribute to the audience. Sable and the priestess encourage the throwing of rocks at the heretic. Audience members may elect to throw them at other characters. The characters react accordingly, including the priestess threatening to hold a trial to those who throw them at her again.

Goetia (The Oldenrai Archives Book Two)
by Sam Poling10/31/18
Genre: Fantasy / Dark Fantasy
Publisher: Tirgearr Publishing
ISBN: 9780463828861
ASIN: B07GKYH54D
Number of pages: 180
Word Count: ~74,500
Cover Artist: Cora Graphics
Integrate your shadow

After imposing a controversial quarantine, Adelstadt Mayoress Mirabel Fairfax finds herself in the crosshairs with vengeful highwaymen. When they target her family and the vital shipments her village desperately needs, she turns to witchcraft to restore order herself. But something is wrong: her magic becomes unreliable, and monstrous images torment her mind's eye.

When gruesome murders terrorize Adelstadt, she suspects the highwaymen have turned to the occult, allying with a demonic entity. A Goetia. The hallucinations become all-too-real, and Mirabel must rely on her cunning, wrath, and what few friends she has left if she hopes to rescue her valley, her beloved, and her mind.

Felix Fairfax does the best he can as the husband of a controversial mayoress witch, but his life is once again turned into a fight for survival when he’s kidnapped by the highwaymen. They force him to help investigate his wife’s hidden lair, where they become trapped with creatures of unspeakable horror. Whatever Mirabel had locked away hunts indiscriminately—it hunts him—and if it gets out, plagues and highwaymen won’t be Adelstadt’s problems any longer.

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Excerpt:
Mirabel’s boots clicked down a stone, spiral stairway, blowing past the half-melted candles lining the steps. The candles provided the only light, at times leaving her to fumble for footing on the disrepair of the steps. The descent into darkness went on longer than she’d ever recalled experiencing before. What a time for metaphysical nonsense. An echo of raspy, hollow screams chased her, reverberating within the stairwell, challenging her to keep up speed.

She stumbled off the final steps, at last on the ground floor, and clawed her wild, deep red hair from her face. Archaic, religious candle racks illuminated the chamber. Nothing had changed down here. At least, not yet.

She sped past rows of dilapidated tables and pews, reached a laboratory-style workbench, and threw her arms against a stack of journals, scattering the research. Upon snaring a specific handful of pages, she sprinted for the tower entrance.

A bony tusk punched through a nearby wall, knocking candles from their altar. They struck silver offering plates on the floor, crashing like cymbals. Mirabel leaped back, one hand clutching her research against her body, the other gripping the handle of her rapier.

Black, viscous slime poured from the hole around the horn, crept over the altar, and dripped onto the floor. Small, misshapen hands sprouted from the goop like blooming black-fingered flowers, grasping at the stone tiles. A reek like sweet, rotting fruit flooded the air.

She closed her gaping mouth, turned away, and continued running down the hall. Her burned-orange cape fluttered and whipped, a nuisance, rescinding its value.

The entire tower quaked, followed by more disembodied shrieking. A spiny, gray tentacle as thick as a branch smashed through the wall ahead in a deafening boom, lashing and twisting like an eel out of water. She drew her rapier and severed the tip with the sharpened, distal edge of her weapon. The piece of otherworldly flesh fell away, but several more tentacles punched through imperfections in the surrounding walls, blocking her path. Each unique arm contorted at varied rates, some more aggressive than others.

Still holding her sword, she extended her arm and channeled magic through it with a rush of heat. Upon releasing her focus, the heat fled her body and flames burst in front of her, engulfing the tentacles and transforming them into crackling ash.

Vertigo crashed over her in waves as penalty for her sudden, great expenditure of soul energy. With inhuman moans drifting on the air, she shook off her fatigue and proceeded to the iron double doors ahead, ramming her shoulder against them. They opened a crack, blasting her face with freezing air from outside.

She pushed against the door, and it ground open, scraping through a layer of fresh snow. She slipped her thin frame through, dropped her research and rapier, and shoved the door closed.

“Mayoress?”

She spun and straightened her posture. “Under no circumstances is anyone to approach the tower.”

Two guardsmen clad in vermillion red, double-breasted uniforms stood at the base of the tower steps, shoulders dusted with snow. They possessed several weapons: muskets with bayonets, sabers, and crossbow pistols. All useless.

“Aye,” said the leading guard. “We thought we heard some rumbling from our post. Another quake?”

She knelt, sheathing her rapier and collecting her papers. And then she saw the ooze. Not much, but strands of it slithered under the door. She backed away and marched down the steps.

“Evacuate.”

“Excuse me, Mayoress?”

She stopped between the guards and faced the shift lead. “Evacuate. It’s a simple concept. Do it now.”

“Evacuate what? Ironsnow?”

“Yes, the entire hamlet. Get everyone to Adelstadt at once.” She looked past him at dozens of wood-framed homes at the base of the tower’s hill, billowing smoke from their chimneys. “No one goes near the tower. Get everyone out now.”

The other guard spoke. “But why? Minor quakes happen all the time. My family lives here.”

The three marched down the hill. Mirabel said nothing.

“Mayoress?”

“Miasma. I’ve discovered the tower is the source of plague-infested miasma. Likely the cause of other outbreaks around Adelstadt. Deadly strains. None can reside here any longer. I’m sorry.”

“Tordin’s mercy,” said the guard. “I’ll have my family pack right away.”

“Nay. Full evacuation. Immediately. Have the citizens take only what they can carry on their way out.”

“It’s that urgent?”

“I am the Mayoress and a syndicate-certified disease specialist. You think I give this order lightly?”

“Of course not, Mayoress Fairfax,” said the lead guard. “We’ll get everyone out within the hour.”

“Faster if you are able. Much faster.”

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Tirgearr Publishing
Sam Poling has been writing fantasy and science fiction for the thrill of it his entire life, from short stories to screenplays. His love for each of the subgenres led to dedication to writing genre-skirting fiction with all the elements that make up the human condition. He holds a strong enthusiasm for medical studies and currently works as a medical assistant in a large clinic while taking classing for nursing. He also serves on a health and safety committee, including disaster preparedness and infection control. His interest in epidemiology and medical science tends to spill over into his writing endeavors.

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