Book Blitz & Excerpt: Ira + Giveaway

Ira (Vendetta 4) by Leigh Kenzie

Book Title: Ira (Vendetta 4)

Author: Leigh Kenzie

Publisher: Self-Published

Cover Artist: Temptation Creations

Release Date: December 3, 2020

Genre/s: Dark M/M

Trope/s: Dark M/M Mafia

Themes: Captive/Captor, Forced Submission, Kink, Non-con, Obsession

Warnings: Please be advised this book contains graphic violence, torture, and murder. It also includes non-con, psychological torture, and various kinks. The book also includes significant homophobic scenes. Some readers may find this material triggering. It is intended for a mature audience 18 years of age and up.

Heat Rating:  5 flames  

Length: 50 700 words

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Buy Links – Available on Kindle Unlimited

Universal Link  |  Amazon US  |   Amazon UK 

 Ira (Vendetta 4) by Leigh Kenzie

 Out of Nightmares can come Dreams

 

Blurb

Allesandro
My fury consumes me. Nobody is safe from it. I will bring my Emilio home. I will rebuild my empire. I’ll demolish anyone standing in my way.

Emilio
He thinks he has me beat. He thinks he’s in control. If there’s one thing Master taught me, I make my own destiny. I’ll claw my own way out and when I do they’d better prepare. Nobody has ever seen the likes of me.

What happens when vengeance and fury twist together?

Trigger warnings: Contains graphic violence, extreme sexual situations, and homophobic scenes. Please see inside for more warnings.


This is a continuous series. The first three books must be read prior to this one. Book 5 releasing early 2021.

 Ira (Vendetta 4) by Leigh Kenzie

Excerpt

Peter POV

I wake up from my nap gasping. The memory of Daniel dying is rushing through me as I push through the last remnants of sleep. I lie there for a moment, trying to reconcile everything. I’m not sure who to be the most pissed at. I knew he wasn’t happy, he said I shouldn’t have taken him out of the hospital. His urges were too much for him to handle, but damn, he could have talked to me. I bite my tongue hard enough to draw blood when I think of Eamon. Fucker put Daniel in that situation to take that bullet, hiding the knowledge that they were real, because if I’d known then, fuck no, I wouldn’t have allowed it. He never understood brotherly love, though. I shouldn’t have waited. I should have taken Eamon out first. But it’s too late for that.

Lio. Lio pulled the fucking trigger. A deep growl builds in my chest. I loved him. I gave him everything, and he repaid me by killing my brother. Daniel’s voice echoes in my brain about needing to keep calm, not to punish Lio for not being perfect, but damn it, Lio has always been perfect. It’s why he’s mine. It’s why I found him, took him, and did everything I could for him. I take deep breaths, trying to rein in the anger and the poisonous hate that wants to spread. Maybe I just need to push him more, make him earn his forgiveness. I’m not fucking sure at this point if that’s possible, but maybe it’ll work. Maybe I can recapture our love. Maybe…

I startle when I notice he’s not in bed with me. I’ve been so lost in my head. Memories of what I did earlier float in my mind, and I quickly move to look at the floor. I exhale forcefully when I see him. I feared for a split-second that he’d escaped, but he didn’t. It means he knows he needs to be punished, he needs it the same way I do.

He doesn’t raise his head even as I move. I know kneeling for so long must be hurting his knees, but I don’t give a shit. I reach out and grab his hair, forcefully bringing him up and onto the bed. The way he scrambles slowly to move tells me how stiff he is from holding the same position for so long. I violently push him on his back and straddle him, grabbing his throat with my hand and squeezing. He doesn’t fight back, although I wish he would. His face steadily changes color, and tears roll down his face, making a pathway through the dried cum, but still, he doesn’t fight. The most he does is tilt his head back to give me better access. I wrench my hand off his neck, letting him draw in huge gasps of air. I punch the pillow by his head, barely missing his face. That, at least, draws a reaction from him. The flinch and fear. I want his fear. I need it.

 Ira (Vendetta 4) by Leigh Kenzie

About the Author 

Leigh is a dark M/M romance author from Texas with two needy terrors of terriers and a chaotic family. She considers coffee a major food group and her family fears broken coffeemakers. She writes in her spare time, forced to the keyboard by characters entirely too vocal in her opinion and often falls victim to plot monkeys. In between creating mayhem with her characters and friends, her hope is to transport readers to fictional places and provide darkness with a twist.

 

Author Links

 Amazon page  |   Facebook Group  |  Facebook Page

Newsletter Sign-Up  |  BookBub  |   Goodreads 

 

 

Giveaway 

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Spotlight & Excerpt: Forsaken Island + Giveaway

Banner - Fantasy for Christmas


Forsaken Island
(The Dancing Realms #2)
By Sharon Hinck
Christian Fantasy
Hardcover & ebook, 272 Pages
September 15, 2020 by Enclave Publishing

On an uncharted world, happiness is effortless and constant … but can true joy exist without sacrifice?

The people of Meriel have long believed their island world floats alone in the vast ocean universe, so they are astonished when another island drifts into view. With resources becoming scarce, Carya and Brantley quickly volunteer to search the new land for supplies.

After navigating a barrier of menacing trees, the pair encounter a culture of perpetually happy people who readily share their talents and their possessions. But all is not what it seems. At the core of the island is a horror that threatens everyone, including Brantley and Carya.

Freeing the villagers of the bondage they’ve chosen may cost Carya and Brantley more than they could have imagined. Even if the two succeed, they’ll have to find a way to return to Meriel quickly … or be cut off from their home forever.

(Affiliate links included.)
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Excerpt

Chapter One

Across a sweep of waves, the new world called to me. The tangleroot shore of Meriel’s rim rocked beneath my bare feet, daring me to leave the island’s safety and venture to the smudge on the horizon. Sea breezes tickled my skin, stirring my excitement and making my muscles twitch.

Beside me, Brantley rolled a cloak and stuffed it into his pack. “We should have left at first light.” Wind brushed fair curls across his eyes, and he tossed his head like an impatient pony shaking his mane. A mottled brown tunic stretched across his broad shoulders, and a longknife rested at his hip.

I folded a sheet of parchment and tucked it into the tiny pouch hanging around my neck. “Saltar Kemp kept adding to the list of supplies she wants us to search for. She’s hoping we can find seeds to bring back, so the villages can develop new orchards.”

The possibility of such bounty still felt surreal. The notion of an uncharted land like a child’s fanciful dream. To think, for centuries we had believed our island floated alone on an endless ocean, and now a mere speck amid the vast expanse of blue had proven our wisest elders wrong.

We were not alone.

And the thought made me shiver.

Excerpted from Forsaken Island by Sharon Hinck. Copyright © Sharon Hinck. Published by Enclave Publishing.

Other Books in the Series


(Linked to an Amazon affiliate link.)

About the Author

Award-winning author Sharon Hinck writes “stories for the hero in all of us,” about ordinary women on extraordinary faith journeys. Known for their authenticity, emotional range, and spiritual depth, her novels include the ground-breaking Sword of Lyric fantasy series and her imaginative new Dancing Realms series, that begins with Hidden Current and continues with Forsaken Island. She has been honored with a Christy finalist medal, and three Carol awards for her novels. When she’s not wrestling words, she enjoys speaking to conferences and retreats, and is an adjunct professor for Creative Writing M.F.A. students at Concordia University. She drew on her background as a dancer, ballet teacher, and choreographer for her new Dancing Realms series.

Website | Goodreads | BookBub | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram

Tour Schedule
(Posts go live on the day they’re scheduled.)

November 29th: Launch
November 30th: R.J. AndersonSwift
December 1st: Ralene BurkeArmor of Aletheia
December 2nd: Michelle Diener – Breakaway
December 3rd: Sandra Fernandez Rhoads – Mortal Sight
December 4th: J.M. Hackman – Burn
December 5th: Sharon Hinck – Forsaken Island
December 6th: Ronie Kendig – Dawn of Vengeance
December 7th: Carla LaureanoOath of the Brotherhood
December 8th: Belle MaloryDeviant Descendants
December 9th: Sara SchallerThe Genesis of Seven
December 10th: Jennifer SilverwoodStay
December 11th: Anne Wheeler – Treason’s Crown
December 12th: Melissa Wright – Between Ink and Shadows
December 13th: Morgan WylieSilent Orchids
December 14th: Kristen Young – Apprentice
December 15th: Grand Finale

Tour Giveaway

One winner will receive a $75 (USD) Amazon eGift Card

Open internationally
Ends December 19, 2020

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Book Blitz & Excerpt: Link By Link + Giveaway

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Link by Link: An Anthology of Haunted Holidays
Publication date: December 2nd 2020
Genres: Holiday, Paranormal, Supernatural, Young Adult

“‘I wear the chain I forged in life,’ replied the Ghost. ‘I made it link by link…’”-Charles Dickens, A Christmas Carol

Link by Link is a collection of 9 stories of ghosts, spirits, and creatures unnamed, all come to teach lessons we won’t soon forget. From sweet Christmas tales to terrifying holiday hauntings, these stories take a dive into the past in the hopes of creating a better—or at least different—future.

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Excerpt

Between the Quiet
By Candace Robinson

Hand. Invisible brick. Hand. Invisible brick. Slide hand, and twirl. Tuesday Collins pressed her hands against an invisible brick wall that she imagined was a bright, blazing yellow. Tilting her head at a young woman with red hair pulled into two braids, Tuesday lowered herself in a crouched position and felt around an illusioned box. The redhead arched a brow at Tuesday, paused, and scrambled on by. Tuesday sighed and slumped her shoulders in mock disappointment.

As a man with salt-and-pepper hair walked her way, Tuesday’s fingers fumbled up inside her black-and-white striped sleeves and plucked out a glittery pink orchid. She hopped off the stairstep in front of the man and held the flower out to him.

The corners of the man’s eyes wrinkled into a smile. “No thanks.”
Tuesday gestured to her dark bowler hat resting on the ground, filled with mostly pennies.

“Oh.” He dug into his pocket and pulled out two crisp one-dollar bills, dropping them into her hat.

That’s what I’m talking about. She gave the man a widening smile and a hasty bow in thanks. Behind her came the soft clinks of a few more coins being released into her hat.

Every Saturday, and most Sundays, Tuesday spent her weekends performing mime tricks right outside the edge of the subway at Grand Central Station. In the background, the subway swished on by, gathering passengers as bagpipes, a saxophone, and a violin were played. Other entertainers inside were breakdancing, painting portraits, doing anything they could to break out and get noticed.

All Tuesday wanted was to be the next great mime artist, like Marcel Marceau. However, she felt as though she’d been born decades, or even centuries, too late. It was a mostly dead trade. But she didn’t care, because this was the weekend, her weekend. And one day, she would get that Broadway play, or that film, or even join Cirque du Soleil.

The morning sun was already beating down on her heavily-painted face. Not breaking character, she pretended to pick up heavy boxes as she searched around the walking civilians, the leafless trees of autumn, the glass buildings. Her pantomime partner was nowhere to be found. Where the hell was Francis? Francis was always late for everything. She was late every Saturday. Hell, half the time Francis forgot the day was Saturday and didn’t show up. It was as though she didn’t take this as seriously as Tuesday, even though it had been Francis’s idea to start coming out here on the weekends in the first place.

Tuesday bet it had to do with Francis’s new boyfriend, or possibly an old one… She placed her hand in position, as if she was holding a glass, and chugged the invisible drink. As her head lowered back down, she wiped a gloved hand across her mouth and her heart stopped. Literally stopped. There was a microsecond where she broke character, but no one noticed except for her.
Before her stood a boy, a boy she knew incredibly well, one from school. Maybe not “knew” in a close friend sense, but he was Francis’s cousin. Her very, very cute cousin. Becker Barber. Beck. Why was he here? His bleached hair hung right at his pitch-black brows. He wore a long-sleeved Guns N’ Roses shirt paired with tight black jeans and checkerboard Vans.

She wanted to topple over and die right there. Seriously, just vanish. But she kept miming, hoping he wouldn’t notice that the mime was indeed her.

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