Uncategorized

The Cat Who Ate His Tail Jacqueline Simon Gunn

The Cat Who Ate His Tail

Jacqueline Simon Gunn


Genre: Animal Fiction, Women’s Fiction, Psychological Fiction

Date of Publication: November 15, 2019

ISBN: 978-1699608081
ASIN: B07ZY6VZNH
Number of pages: 324
Word Count: 76,059
Book Description:
Have you ever wondered what your pets are thinking?
Inspired by true events, this heartwarming story is told from the perspective of Sneakers, a curious cat with serious emotional baggage. Neglected and ultimately abandoned by his original owner, he compensates for the trauma by overeating and making droll observations about the crazy love life of his new owner… who also happens to be a psychologist.
Through paying attention to her work, the loving home she provides and watching her own trials and tribulations, Sneakers learns so much more about life, love and the ways of the world. Both their lives take unexpected turns, both suffer for their own inability to see their inherent worth. But just maybe they can help each other learn the most important lesson of all before it’s too late: If you let it, love can heal even the deepest wounds.
Sometimes you must be willing to take that second chance.
Excerpt:
“I love her,” he
raised his voice. His feet were right next to the couch. Please, don’t make me
kill you. I’d be the cat who ate his tail and killed a human on the Upper
Eastside. This would not look good for me. They’d judge me based on the tail
incident and assume the murder was due to my instability, never considering the
duress that preceded his demise.
That’s why he
was living with a shrink. Nut job. I heard the newscasters saying.
My eyes followed
his feet. He bent down, glaring at me underneath the couch, and yelled, “I love
her. You hear me. Just because she isn’t the girl I want to spend my life with
doesn’t mean I don’t love her.”
What kind of
catnip was he sniffing? Leave her alone then.
I stared back at
him, my heart pounding even harder.
I heard
rummaging. From his shadow, I thought he was in her desk. Probably trying to
sift through her drawers. Maybe looking for notes or things she’d written down,
so he knew what she was thinking. Then the couch bounced as he plopped down
onto the middle cushion. I wondered how this was going to go down when she came
home and found him. Which would be worse: finding him dead or alive, I
wondered. But before I had to choose, he got up, and I heard him fumbling
around in the kitchen, and then the front door closed.
I waited an
ample amount of time, inhaling to get my breathing even, then strutted into the
kitchen, sniffing around where he’d left his sour scent, the only evidence of
him being here. I knew humans’ sense of smell wasn’t as strong. I wondered if
my mom would know just by intuition that Moby had come. I thought of ways I
might communicate it to her. I was lying on my chair ruminating about this when
I heard my mom turning the doorknob, then her voice mixing with that of a
strange man’s.
I took a heavy
breath. What a stressful night. Now I had to scrutinize the new guy while
figuring out how to tell her about Moby’s appearance. I was exhausted and
crashing from the adrenalin of what had happened earlier.
“What’s wrong,
handsome?” She kneeled beside me, rubbing my head. Looking up at this new tall
man-human who had a warm smile, she explained, “He always greets me at the
door. Something feels weird in here.”
“Whadaya mean?”
“Like someone
was here.”
“Like a
break-in? “Or like a ghost?”
She looked
around. “Nothing looks out of place on first glance. Do you believe in ghosts?”
“I do, and I
think cats see them. Maybe he saw something.”
“He does look
spooked by something, doesn’t he?”
“It’s hard to
tell.” He bent down and rubbed my head. “He is a good-looking cat.” He rubbed
under my neck. “Did you see something?” he asked me.
“Maybe they see
things that aren’t there. Maybe he thought he saw something.” She wore a
perplexed looked, but it got me thinking and wondering if that ghost thing was
possible.
Maybe I was
losing my mind. Was Moby here or did I imagine the whole thing because the idea
of him haunted me?

Gosh, maybe that last catnip pillow was laced
with something.




 

About the Author:
Jacqueline Simon Gunn is a Manhattan-based clinical psychologist and writer. She has authored two non-fiction books, and co-authored two others. She has published many articles, both scholarly and mainstream, and currently works as a freelance writer. Gunn is now writing psychological fiction. Always in search of truth and fascinated by human behavior, her fiction writing, like psychology, is a way for her to explore human nature — motivation, emotions, relationships.
In addition to her clinical practice and writing, Gunn is an avid runner and reader. Gunn is currently working on multiple writing projects, including a spin-off of “Forever and One Day,” the third book in the Where You’ll Land series and a book written from her cat’s POV.

 

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Uncategorized

Demon Bound Author: Chris Cannon

Title: Demon Bound
Author: Chris Cannon
Genre: YA Urban Fantasy
Publisher: Entangled Teen
Publication Date: January 6th, 2019
Hosted by: Lady Amber’s PR
Blurb:
When a summoning goes awry, suddenly booknerd Meena’s summer job becomes something drastically different. Instead of cleaning eccentric Carol’s house, she’s bound to a demon as his soul-collector. Soon Meena discovers that the boring, pageant-obsessed, bonfire-loving town that she’s never fit in to is a hotbed for soul-sucking demons, demon-hunting witches, and vampires who just wanna have fun… And then she comes into her own powers.
Could things get any stranger? Good thing she meets new guy Jake—who gets her and still hangs around.
When Jake’s mom sends him off to his Aunt Zelda’s for the summer, he thought he’d be bored. But nothing is what it seems in this town. His aunt isn’t just odd, she’s a witch who fights demons and tries to maintain the magical balance of the town. Jake should get the hell out of there and, he would leave, except for bad-ass newbie witch Meena, who looks at him like he matters.
He never counted on sticking around, but Meena’s bound to a demon who wants to destroy her soul—and Jake’s finally found someone worth fighting for.
Chris Cannon is the award-winning author of the Going Down In Flames series and the Boyfriend Chronicles. She lives in Southern Illinois with her husband and several furry beasts.
She believes coffee is the Elixir of Life. Most evenings after work, you can find her sucking down caffeine and writing fire-breathing paranormal adventures or romantic comedies. You can find her online at www.chriscannonauthor.com.

Author Links:
Buy Links: 

 

 

Uncategorized

iHuman Othmar A. Brunner

 

 

iHuman

Othmar A. Brunner



Genre: Political Science/ Political Economy


Publisher: Writers Republic

Date of Publication: September 6, 2019
ISBN: 9781646200283
ISBN: 9781646200290
Number of pages: 420
Word Count: 120,222
Cover Artist: Othmar Brunner
Tagline: Be Fair and Enjoy Returned Kindness
Book Description:
Robert and Veronica are beginning the best times of their life yet. They are perfect for each other and have perfect children to complete their perfect union. But the world around them is getting imperfect by the day, and Veronica is scared it won’t be a safe place for their children to grow up in. Robert has to do something.
In the world where injustice seemingly prevails, Robert is driven to correct the path that his country is currently undertaking. The worsening economic status and the severity of the unfairness in the pursuit of justice by the innocent victims are becoming blatant, and no one is doing something to fix this.
Robert and Veronica have had enough, and they have thought of ways to expose and clear their backyard and their country of abuse and all forms of injustices done to its people in general. And only by running as president of the United States of America will Robert be able to correct these wrongdoings of the people in power. Will he succeed? Will Robert and Veronica be able to provide a better place for their children and for the children of other Americans?
Writers Republic     Amazon        BN

Excerpt:
Adolf Hitler was
a German politician who was the leader of the Nazi Party, Chancellor of Germany
from 1933 to 1945, and “leader” of Nazi Germany from 1934 to 1945. As dictator of
the German Reich, he initiated World War II in Europe with
the invasion of Poland in September 1939 and was a
central figure of the Holocaust.
Under Hitler’s
leadership and racially motivated ideology, Nazi regime was responsible for the
genocide of at least 5.5 million Jews and millions of other victims whom he and
his followers “sub-humans” and socially undesirable. Hitler and the Nazi regime
were also responsible for the killing of an estimated 19.3 million civilians
and prisoners of war. In addition, 29 million soldiers and civilians died as a
result of military action in the European Theatre of World War II. The number
of civilians killed during the Second World War was unprecedented in warfare,
and constitutes the deadliest conflict in human history.
Joseph
Vissarionovich Stalin was the leader of the Soviet Union from the mid-1920s
until his death in 1953. Holding the post of the General Secretary of the
Central Committee of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union, he was
effectively the dictator of the state.
Under Stalin’s
rule the concept of “Socialism in One Country” became a central tenet of Soviet
society, contrary to Leon Trotsky’s view that socialism must be spread through continuous
international revolutions. He replaced the New Economic Policy introduced by Lenin
in the early 1920s with a highly centralised command economy, launching a
period of industrialization and collectivization that resulted in the rapid transformation
of the USSR from an agrarian society into an industrial power.[4] The economic
changes coincided with the imprisonment of millions of people in Gulag labour
camps.
The initial
upheaval in agriculture disrupted food production and contributed to the
catastrophic Soviet famine of 1932–33, known in Ukraine as the Holodomor.
Between 1934 and 1939 he organized and led the “Great Purge”, a massive
campaign of repression of the party, government, armed forces and
intelligentsia, in which millions of so-called “enemies of the working class”
were imprisoned, exiled or executed, often without due process. Major figures
in the Communist Party and government, and many Red Army high commanders, were killed
after being convicted of treason in show trials. The exact number of deaths
caused by Stalin’s regime is still a subject of debate, but it is widely agreed
to be in the order of millions.
 
About the Author:

 

Othmar Brunner was born in the town of Cham Kanton Zug Switzerland and grew up in the town of Lucerne Kanton Lucerne. He studied and worked in electrical contracting and eventual engineering. He also spent one year in the military. In 1970, he immigrated to Vancouver BC, Canada. He lives in Tsawwassen, a suburb of Vancouver BC, with his life companion, Brigitte, and they have five children. They own a high-end optical store. 


 

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Uncategorized

The Lizard Queen Series – Abridged

 

 

The Lizard Queen Series – Abridged

300 years ago, in a nameless world, a prophecy passed unfulfilled. A secret society that formed to prevent its occurrence believed it was their doing, while the secret society created to ensure that the prophecy came to pass wasn’t certain it had been stopped at all. Eventually, the prophecy of Lacáruna, a female from another realm and the only being who can read the Lizard Queen’s language, fell into legend.  What no one realizes, however, is that Amy Darlidale is just a tad late.

 

 

The Lizard Queen Abridged
Book One
H.L. Cherryholmes
Genre: Fantasy
Date of Publication: 12/7/19
ISBN: 9781798589724
ASIN: B081593C32
Number of pages: 496
Word Count: 235,000
Cover Artist: Ryan Valle
Book Description:
Taking a break from a stressful workweek, Amy Darlidale, a recently divorced CEO, goes out for a morning jog, crosses paths with an orange lizard, and suddenly finds herself under a starless sky confronted by oddly marked and strangely colored people claiming she’s there to rescue the world from evil’s grasp and expand it Along with the young companions who found her, Licha and Jandro, the swaggering Colonel Dack Sangcertigre—a member of the secret society sworn to protect her—leads Amy in search of a plan to fulfill the Promise of a New Morphósis, which will save them all.
Confronted with raving rulers, military machinations, and crafty clergy, Amy quickly realizes there is much more at stake than merely finding the prophecy. Fires rage, clans and townsfolk are massacred when leaders proclaim a great evil has returned. While Amy searches for and finds clues within the first of nine mythic journals regarding this world’s origins, she begins to see visions and receive messages from forces unknown.
Even as she tries to understand the extent of her power others have become aware of it as well. Soon a new group with its own mysterious agenda believes Amy may have another fated purpose and only she can save herself from their terrifying trap.



Excerpt
Book One:
 “I saw an orange lizard today.”
“Orange? That’s
an unusual color for a lizard isn’t it? I’ve seen red ones.” 
Amy Darlidale
looked at the wall just above her therapist’s head. She’d seen the family photo
dozens of times but had never given it much attention. This was the first time
she’d noticed the pendant his young daughter wore. Was it a circle within a
circle? It was difficult to make out from a distance. “Maybe your red lizard
mated with a yellow one and produced my orange lizard.”
John chuckled.
“Maybe. Where did you see it?”
“That’s the
interesting thing.” Amy stopped bouncing the leg she had crossed over the
other. “I saw it in my office. It ran across my desk.”
“You’re kidding.
How do you suppose a lizard—of any color—made it up to the twenty-seventh floor
of your office building?” 
“Maybe it
crawled through the pipes.” Amy glanced out the window and resumed bouncing her
leg.
Pen in hand,
John leaned back in his chair. “You seem rather distracted today.”
Amy’s gaze
drifted across John’s desk. When he started seeing her alone, he’d moved from
the couple’s area to the desk. She liked it better this way.
“That damned
lizard. I saw it first thing this morning, and I can’t get it out of my head.”
She uncrossed her legs. “I feel a bit silly for saying this, but it stopped and
looked at me.”
“There’s nothing
unusual about that. A deer-in-the-headlights response. Animals often
momentarily freeze when they think they’ve been caught.”
“Probably.” Amy
pictured the incident in her mind. “But that wasn’t what it seemed like at the
time.”
“What did it
seem like?”
She returned her
focus to the pendant on the girl’s neck in the family portrait. It was a circle
within a circle. “I swear it was looking at me.” She remembered how the small
creature had scrambled up a pile of reports centered at the far edge of the
desk and stopped there. “We sort of locked eyes for a moment. I had the oddest
feeling she had been waiting for me to notice her.”
“She?”
Amy looked at
the therapist. “What?”
“You said she
not it.”
“I did?”
“Yes. Why would
you assume it was female?”
“I don’t know.”
“Was there some
sort of marking that gave away its gender?”
“No, there
weren’t any markings. She was just orange. Bright orange like a…well, like an
orange. Her underside was slightly more yellow.”
“Okay, so you
and the lizard locked eyes. Then what?”
“Then she
blinked a few times and ran off my desk. I shouted for my assistant and we
looked in every corner and under every piece of furniture but never did find
it.”
“So what was it
about this incident that you can’t get out of your head? Not being able to find
it?”
That he would
assume what bothered her was the lizard’s disappearance didn’t surprise Amy in
the least. John was a marriage counselor, which was why she’d started seeing
him in the first place; unfortunately, despite the bi-weekly appointments for
nearly a year, she and her husband, Peter, hadn’t been able to work out their
problems and eventually divorced. Peter got the SUV and the boat; she got condo
in Palm Springs and John. They sold the house in Brentwood. One issue that had
brought the (then) couple to see a therapist was Amy’s inability to let things
go. Her husband said it bordered on obsessive. Amy believed she was just
determined. As it turned out, John tended to side with her husband on that
particular topic and even after the divorce John still thought it was something
Amy needed to work on. That’s when she started seeing him only once every other
month.
“No, it wasn’t
that I couldn’t find the lizard. Although, I will admit that was frustrating.
I’m guessing I can’t get it out of my head because, for some reason, it made me
think of my father.”
“What did it
remind you of?”
He seemed
anxious to hear her answer, which also came as no surprise; Amy seldom talked
about her childhood. Something else that annoyed her ex-husband.
“I suppose it
made me think about when he married my stepmother. A few months after their
wedding I became very ill. My father said that he found me unconscious and
rushed me to the hospital. I was in a coma for three days. The doctors never
found out what was wrong with me.” She paused to clear her throat. Talking
about her childhood always made her uncomfortable, mostly because she
remembered so little of it. “But to get back to your question, the way that the
lizard looked at me was exactly how my father was looking at me when I woke
from that coma. I remember opening my eyes and seeing my dad watching me as if
he were waiting for me to notice him. That’s what the lizard seemed to be
doing.”
John tapped his
pen on the notepad. “I find it interesting that the first thing you said it
reminded you of was when your father married your stepmother and not that you
were in a coma.”
Frowning, Amy
asked why he found it interesting.
“Why don’t you
tell me?” He smiled wryly.
Amy hated that
smile; John only used it when he knew how she would respond. “Maybe it’s
because I found my father marrying Alice more traumatic than being in a coma.”
She laughed.
“All right. So
seeing the orange lizard brought this all back to you. My question then is why
do you see it as a distraction?”
As she adjusted
her jacket, Amy wished she hadn’t brought up the lizard. She’d only done so
because she hadn’t had anything else to talk about and didn’t want to waste a
session. “I don’t really know. Seeing the lizard just brought out…a feeling, I
suppose.”
“What feeling?”
 
“If I knew,” she
said, mimicking his smile, “I’d be the therapist.”
 
 
The Lizard Queen Abridged

 

Book Two
H.L. Cherryholmes
Genre: Fantasy
Date of Publication: 12/7/19
ISBN: 9781798571132
ASIN: B08159BRTX
Number of pages: 594
Word Count: 279,000
Formats available: Paperback and Kindle
Cover Artist: Ryan Valle
Book Description:
It’s become increasingly clear that an all-out war is being waged by the Arañalianza, the alliance bent on making certain that the prophecy is never brought to pass, and their opposite, the Trotéjo, which is sworn to make certain it does. Although Amy Darlidale has passed tests of wits and endurance far beyond what she thought possible, she struggles for insight into the role she is presumably intended to play in this world.
Jolted by the sacrifices her protectors have had to make, she forges ahead while new relationships surface and new truths are revealed. Forced to rely on her own instincts, along with the limited knowledge she’s gained of this world in her quest, she must find a way to acquire the remaining Extiguos to piece together the prophecy.
Despite feeling constrained in her ability to combat otherworldly forces she cannot comprehend, she must now overcome a foe that poses an unimaginably sinister threat.
Amazon

 
Excerpt
Book Two:
Amy had expected
to be taken to some sort of a cell, as had happened too many times before, but
instead Quoia and she were taken from the cliff tower into another part of the
istanté enclave. Her mind continued to reel from the events that had occurred
in the past hour. After having been abducted in Últimojo, right under the noses
of her friends, and unceremoniously carted from one end of Rescatazo to
another, she’d thought her ordeal was coming to an end when the clan’s
spiritual leader revealed that she was a Trotéjo comrade. But no. Once again,
the irony of not heeding the mysterious message sent by an unknown source while
she had been out at sea wasn’t lost on her. You didn’t think it would be that
easy, did you? Actually, she had. Silly her.
All of this had
come about simply because she’d been curious as to what an adividria—an alleged
diviner of fortunes and dreams—actually did. She had been called one, which had
also occurred while she’d been out at sea on the Pen-Mai II, because someone
had assumed only a quimera capable of evocasado, this world’s version of magic,
would be able to read the Extiguos. Just outside of the Eyes of the Ultimate
Cathedral in Últimojo was a long row of tents commonly referred to as Charlatan
Shacks and she’d visited an adividria there. What followed led the adividria,
Nayel, to believe Amy was something her Ojor Mountain clan in northern
Rescatazo had been looking for. And because of that belief, Amy had been
rendered unconscious, snatched up, and dragged unwillingly up the river and
across the land only to learn that Nayel had been wrong and she wasn’t what the
istanté clan was looking for after all.
Now, instead of
becoming the clan’s newest spiritual leader, she was to be thrown to the wolves
(in this instance, to something called a vueltó) that outsiders had never
bested. Her only consolation was that her abductor and the current spiritual
leader-cum-Trotéjo comrade’s son, Quoia, was being tossed into the ring along
with her. The broad-shouldered, pale-skinned quimero hadn’t been very happy to
learn his fate any more than she had. In fact, he probably had been even more
stunned by the turn of events than she. Amy would have felt a bit of smug
satisfaction over that, if not for the staggering sense of dread crawling up
her legs.
The enormous,
ugly istanté guards with the muscular hunched shoulders silently led Quoia and
her to a room with a floor covered entirely in pillows except for a small path
along the edges. Adorning the walls were more than a dozen swords of varying
sizes. The room opened onto a large empty yard surrounded by high walls. The
guards left them and closed the door, locking it from the outside. Quoia
immediately scanned the weapons on the wall, as he circled the pillow-covered
floor. Light from the flickering lanterns shined off the perspiration dotting
the skin of his bald head. When Amy had first seen him—well, not the first
time, the first time she’d only caught a glimpse of him before he covered her
face with a rag soaked in something called cañart that had knocked her
out—she’d noted that their pale-peach skin-coloring was very similar. With his
square jaw and button nose, he could have passed for human, if not for the
small curved horns just above his temples. The tall quimero was body-builder
big with a neck as wide as his head. When he found a sword to his liking he
removed it from the wall and held it out.
“Take this. It
should be easy for you to handle.”
Amy stared at
the sword in silence.
“We call it a
cuchelgado. Ranjeros call it a sword.”
“I know what it
is and I don’t care what it’s called. What I don’t understand is why we’re
going to a circus. Actually, let me amend that. What I don’t understand is why
any of this is happening.” 
The Lizard Queen Abridged
Book Three
H.L. Cherryholmes
Genre: Fantasy
Date of Publication: 12/7/19
ISBN: 9781798130117
ASIN: B08157XT4V
Number of pages: 657
Word Count: 309,000
Formats available: Paperback and Kindle
Cover Artist: Ryan Valle
Book Description:
With all of the Extiguos now in their possession, Amy Darlidale and her companions feel they are close to discovering the truth, but that they are also running out of time.
This world seems on the verge of shrinking much faster than anyone anticipated when the surrounding nations gather for war against Pliada. The Trotéjo and the Arañalianza also plan to assemble before the mountain upon which La Reina’s castle sits, and stakes have never been higher. The quest to learn how Amy must bring about the New Morphósis has brought her full circle and the truth about her destiny as Lacáruna finally seems within reach.
But much blood continues to be shed as all sides race toward the inevitable conclusion of the journey. Amy must summon forces from deep within if she is to save this world—or is it too late?

 
Excerpt
Book Three:
Amy looked at
the blank pages and couldn’t believe her eyes. So she closed them. When she
opened them again, however, nothing had changed. The final Extiguo was no
longer visible to her.
“It’s gone.”
Dack was giving
out instructions as to which direction the others should face while Amy read
the last third of the Extiguo.
“It’s gone,” Amy
repeated.
Dack stopped and
looked at her. “What?”
“The words are
gone.” She held up the book with the pages facing outward, even though she knew
he wouldn’t see it as she did. To anyone native to this world, the symbols that
were the written language of La Reina were still stamped upon the pages. “I
can’t see any of the words.”
Dack, Licha,
Jandro, and Madu scrambled to gather around her. Sitting as she was on the
footboard of the carriage that had delivered goods to the hundreds of Trotéjo
hiding in Naclaquí didn’t make this easy, so she stood up. Licha pulled at
Amy’s arm until the book was low enough that she could see it.
“I don’t understand,”
the quimera with the alabaster-white skin said. “I thought that the words
didn’t disappear until you’ve read all of it.”
Flipping through
the book to be certain the pages were blank, Amy said, “They haven’t until
now.”
Madu peered over
her shoulder. “Why now? Why would they disappear on you like that now?”
Amy removed the
lupercas, the pince-nez reading glasses, from the bridge of her nose. No point
in keeping them on when there was nothing to read. “I don’t know why. It’s
never happened before.”
Jandro looked up
at her. His eyes were wide and seemed to be floating in the black pools that
were the ovals encircling them on his face. His blue-gray skin was almost
silver in the glow of the moonlight. “You’ve never gone so far into one of the
Extiguos and then stopped,” he said. “Could that be why?”
Frustrated, Amy
threw the paluz to the ground. “I don’t care what caused it. All that matters
is that I can no longer read it.” She looked at Dack. “What are we going to
do?”
He stared at the
green light of the paluz at his feet. “There doesn’t seem to be anything we can
do.”
“But we don’t
know how it ends.” Madu’s voice went up an octave.
“Yes we do,”
Jandro said. “La Reina creates the—”
“Not that!” Madu
said, his voice higher still. The tall, lanky quimero began to pace. “Not
what’s in the Translation, but what’s in the actual Extiguo. None of you seem
to comprehend that nearly all that Amy read so far is nowhere to be found in
its translation. For all we know, the Winged-One really did create the Morphósis
and La Reina became Lacáruna.”
“Control
yourself, Madu,” Dack said. “Hysterics are never constructive.”
“And I can
assure you I am not La Reina,” Amy added.
Madu closed his
mouth and drew in several breaths through his long nose. He ran his hands
through his thick, dark red hair a few times and slowly his shoulders relaxed.
“I didn’t mean that literally. I’m only conjecturing that anything is
possible.”
“We shouldn’t
have left.” Licha looked up at Dack, whom she stood beside. “We should have
remained in the building when you sent out the group disguised as us. Amy
should have kept reading.”
Jandro came
between them and, surprising everyone, shoved Licha back. “Stop being an idiot.
We couldn’t have stayed. You heard what Dack said. Whoever caused the explosion
could have sent someone to storm into Winfred’s room and what would we have
done then?”
“Enough.” Amy
put Winfred’s lupercas in a pocket and rubbed her eyes. “Instead of focusing on
what we don’t know, how about focusing on what we do. I was more than halfway
through the Extiguo. We have plenty of revelations to discuss and mull over.”

 

About the Author:
H.L. Cherryholmes, author of The Lizard Queen Series, The Reminisce, Come Back for Me, and A Slight Touch was born and raised in Albuquerque, New Mexico but has spent most of his adult life in California. He has a BFA from University of New Mexico and a Master’s degree in Playwriting from the University of California, Los Angeles. Currently, he lives in SoCal with his husband.

 

 

 

Uncategorized

Dirty Ball Jungle Beauty Goddesses Book 3 Cassandra George Sturges

 

Dirty Ball

Jungle Beauty Goddesses

Book 3

Cassandra George Sturges

Genre: Fantasy, Fiction, Mythology Erotica

Date of Publication:  November 10, 2019
ASIN:  B08192Q5HZ
Number of pages:  150
Word Count:  44,790
Book Description:
The Jungle Beauty Goddesses: Dirty Ball- Book 3 is a story about love… the familial love and loyalty of family and the unbreakable bond between the seven sisters… and the power of love and how it plunges, crashes, and melds beings of different realms and realties. The Jungle Beauty Goddesses Series has been coined “Nubian Mythology a Modern Creation Story.” All life is created by sexual energy—this story is not meant to be erotic—it merely captures the sensuality of the universal powers and enthralling forces that make us human, frail, mortal, and vulnerable.

 

Excerpt
2
I know what she
needs. She needs me to adore her. She needs to see versions of herself
expressed from the perspective of another being. I will create images of her
from the elements, and this will draw unto me.
Mada painted an
image of Afar inside of a nearby cave. He painted himself in the picture
holding her hand, with the sun shining rays of love from above both of their
heads, surrounded by trees and birds. He wrote at the bottom of the painting is
a universal language, “I love you. I love you. I love you. Collapsing space and
time, you are already mine.”
When Afar saw
the painting in the cave, she pressed her body against it and attempted to hug
it—but her arms could not fit around the giant life-size painting in the
cave.  “I love you, too,” she whispered
to the picture.

 

Afar used her
goddess powers and merged into the painting, breathing life into the painting
of her and Mada on the cave wall. She animated the picture, and she and Mada
walked hand in hand along the beach, tossed pebbles into the water, only
stopping to kiss her passionately beneath the smiling sun. After saturating her
likeness with Mada’s love for her, Afar exited the painting on the cave wall
and left it as she had found it.
 

 

About the Author:

 

Cassandra George Sturges is the author of “A Woman’s Soul on Paper,” “Success and Beauty is an Attitude,” “The Illusion of Beauty: Why Women Hate Themselves and Envy Other Women,” and “Why Racism is a Mental Illness.” For many years, she was an advice columnist for Today’s Black Woman Magazine and is currently a full-time psychology and sociology professor at a college in the mid-west. She is a high school dropout who graduated with her General Education Diploma and eventually earned five college degrees including two masters and a doctorate degree. In her late forties, she began making life-size fabric sculpture, cloth dolls that turned out to be the main characters in her Jungle Beauty Goddesses coming of age, modern creation Nubian Mythology fantasy fiction, sensuous, romantic series. She is the mother of two adult children, a grandmother, and for over 20-years has shared her life with her twin flame.

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Uncategorized, Urban Fantasy

A Symphony of Starlight Abby Sinclair Book Four Allison Pang

 

 

A Symphony of Starlight

Abby Sinclair

Book Four

Allison Pang

Genre: Urban Fantasy

Date of Publication: 10/8/2019
ISBN: 978-0-9985343-4-3
ASIN: B07YDZFDFV
Number of pages: 304
Word Count: 97k
Cover Artist: Ravven
Tagline: Sometimes you have to go to Hell to give the Devil His due…
Book Description:          
The road to Hell is paved with good intentions . . . and sometimes unicorn puke.
In the span of a few months, mortal TouchStone Abby Sinclair has been trapped in a painting, had her memories stolen, and been Tithed to Hell, killed, and brought back to life by the OtherFolk. Now she’s pregnant and torn between her incubus lover, Brystion, and her elven king of a husband, Talivar. Otherworldly love triangles notwithstanding, she’s more than content to set the political drama of magic and mayhem aside and quietly settle into motherhood. But nothing is ever that easy . . .
Years ago, Abby’s best friend, Melanie St. James, virtuoso violinist and DoorMaker to the CrossRoads, lost her soul to the Devil in return for an enchanted violin. Now the magic of her violin is fading, and the Devil is calling in her debt to serve Him as His TouchStone. In an effort to escape the terms of this reckless bargain, she flees to the CrossRoads with her lover, Nobu.
But reneging on a deal with the Devil isn’t the wisest of moves, especially when He knows Abby is the only one who can bring Him what He wants. And when tragedy strikes, it’s up to Abby and her friends to find a way to stop the violin from consuming Melanie’s soul before it’s too late, even if the journey takes them straight into Hell itself.
eBook On Sale for .99

 
Excerpt:
“Well, I’m running out of ideas.
What about the thread?” I asked Kitsune. “You gave me a spool of red thread
once to help me find Talivar or my destiny or something like that.”
            Ion
and Talivar blinked at me. “Destiny, is it?” Talivar said wryly.
            “It
led me to the tent with your horses,” I explained. “I’m not sure it worked the
way it was supposed to, but you did show up afterward, so who knows?”
            Kitsune
brightened. “Ah yes. The red thread of Fate. A useful spell at times, though I
don’t know if it will work for us here. Depends on how entwined you and Melanie
are. It might not even lead you through the Gate at all.”
            She
paced, her fur seeming to shimmer slightly, and then one of her tails somehow
plucked a spool from the air and deposited it at my feet. I picked it up,
Brystion craning to see it curiously.
            “And
what is that all about?” His eyes narrowed. “I don’t like the way it feels.”
            Kitsune
cackled. “Mortals are bound by Fate more so than OtherFolk. It’s often wrapped
so tightly around them they don’t even notice it. You were never one for such
things, aye?”
            He
grunted at her and rolled his eyes. For a heartbeat, I could see his natural
form, the dark skin, the antlers, the hooves . . . the bells braided in his
hair with red thread. My mouth quirked, but I said nothing. Perhaps the incubus
was bound more by Fate than he liked.
            I
rolled the spool in my hands, taking one end of the thread. It shivered between
my fingers, almost like touching a live wire, jolts of power zipping beneath my
skin.
            “Focus,”
Kitsune snapped. “What is it you really want? Where do you want to go?”
            I
shut my eyes. Melanie, I thought. I need to find her. I need to fix this. I
need to save her.
            The
thoughts repeated over and over in my head, and as before, the spool jumped
from my hand and rolled across the ground toward the Gate. Talivar skirted out
of the way as it hurtled toward him, swearing softly.
            The
Gate lit up in an instant, the spool shunting through and disappearing in a
splash of silver and gold, the red thread trailing like a tail behind it.
            The
fox limped over to the Gate, sniffing at the corner. The corruption on her side
grew more pronounced, but her three tails lashed wildly, coating her fur with a
silver light. “Abby! Let’s go! Before it closes!”
            She
shifted slightly, her paws becoming humanoid, and she snatched at the hand
holding the thread and pulled me hard, the pair of us tumbling through the
Gate. “Wait!” We swept through the entrance, but my voice was enveloped in some
sort of film, a quiet I couldn’t seem to break through.
            I
reached for the others, but it was as though I was looking through water, a
barrier stretched between us that I couldn’t quite reach.
            The
thread. I clenched my fist. I was still holding the goddamned thread. What
happens when the thread keeping the Gate open goes through, Abby? What?
            “It
fucking closes,” I said. “That’s what.”
            I
struggled against Kitsune’s clawed grip. “We have to go back . . . The others .
. .”
            “There
is no time.” Her voice was hollow and empty as she staggered beside me. Her
tails dragged limply across the ground, the dark magic beginning to move along
her fur again. “Must make it . . . Inari.”

 

            And
then she was tumbling forward, the track we were on abruptly disintegrating
beneath our feet. I snatched at her, and the two of us fell, fell, fell, the
red thread wrapping around us.
 
About the Author:

 

 
Allison is the author of the Urban Fantasy Abby Sinclair series, the IronHeart Chronicles and the writer for the webcomic Fox and Willow. She likes LEGOS, elves, LEGO elves…and bacon.
She spends her days in Northern Virginia working as a cube grunt and her nights waiting on her kids, cat, and an obnoxious northern breed dog, punctuated by the occasional husbandly serenade. Sometimes she even manages to write. Mostly she just makes it up as she goes.

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Uncategorized

Curse Samaritan Book 1 Serafina Silk

 

Curse Samaritan
Book 1

Serafina Silk


Genre: Erotica/Supernatural/Thriller

Publisher: Serafina!

 

Date of Publication:  15 November 2019
ISBN: 9781916066427
ASIN: B081GF53QD
Number of pages: 198
Word Count: 35,000
Tagline: How far would you go to help someone get over their ex?
Book Description:
When Chris gives a deathbed kiss to her best friend her safe world is turned upside-down as a strange sexual obsession and compulsion begins.
But what is driving it? And how will it affect her safe but boring marriage?
The Sex Samaritan series combines erotica and mystery as Chris’ journey takes her into a dark and sensual world in which more than her family life is suddenly threatened.
Also Available on Amazon
Book 2     Book 3
Excerpt:
With a hand on
Evan’s shocked face, I reached in and pressed my lips against his. He was
shaking, like he was trapped. When our lips touched, he became still. Once
again, it was as if there were two worlds: the one in which we were Evan and
Min, and the one in which Evan and I were sexless old acquaintances. There
wasn’t time now to wonder how or why.
Unable to cut the Min side out, I just wanted to savour not being Chris
the Reliable, Chris the Predictable, Chris the Wife.
I could feel it.
The incredible heat between Min and Evan was something exciting I had never
experienced in my own sex life. Sure, when Arron and I first got together, he
took me to new places. Sex with him in the early days was mind-blowing, but
this was an upgrade, no question. No wonder Evan had given up trying to match
the experience in the years since she left him.
He broke from
increasingly urgent kisses to whispers. “Why did you leave, Min? God, I love
you. You will always be the love of my life.” After every line he returned to
my mouth, unable to keep from the “sweet communion of a kiss,” as Judee Sill
memorably described it.
It’s interesting
that we kiss and eat with our mouth, isn’t it? It means that you can say things
like, “we devoured each other.” It makes perfect sense – I understood that now.
We were devouring each other. Our arms pulled each other tighter. We were both
slim. Only my swelling breasts separated us. Our hands strayed across each
other’s backs, giving our arms the support they needed to pull-in a fraction
closer. The kisses, the sighs and the whispered phrases of loss from Evan,
seemed to go on, deliriously, forever. Yet, my body needed more. Min may have
been driving this, but Chris also had to know – I knew I could not carry on
without feeling what Min and Evan had felt together.
It was me who
lowered my hands first, to squeeze Evan’s arse. His soon followed suit and his
hands pushed flat against my back and dove behind my jeans, under my panties.
He tease-bit my lip, upping the ante. I groaned as, for the first time in 15
years, a man who wasn’t my husband, touched my aroused, naked flesh. And boy,
was it aroused.
Constricted by
the material, Evan could do no more than feel and knead my cheeks, but my pussy
throbbed at the thought of what I hoped was to come. Unable to wait, I brought
my hands to the front, unlatching the clasp of his trousers, pulling the zip
down an inch or two. There was just enough room to slip my right hand into the
top of his boxers.

 

 

About the Author:
Like the hero of the Samaritan series, Serafina Silk has been a highly successful reporter and journalist, working both local and national newsrooms in America and the UK.
Like Chris, Serafina has two children and is happily married.
Also like Chris, she has interviewed many celebrities.
Cursed is her first novella – Book 1 of the ongoing Samaritan series.

 

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