Book Blitz & Excerpt: Artifacts + Giveaway

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Artifacts by Bailey Bradford

Book 1 in the Intrinsic series

Word Count: 54,742
Book Length: NOVEL
Pages: 215

Genres:

CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
GAY
GLBTQI
THRILLERS AND SUSPENSE

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Book Description

Aldric Beamer thought working in an antique shop would be safe and boring. He never expected to find his life—or his heart—in danger…

Being the low man on the totem pole is nothing new for Aldric Beamer. The youngest of three siblings, he was always the afterthought in his family, but Aldric’s trying hard not to let the little confidence he has sink any lower.

Aldric loves the job he managed to land at Intrinsic Value, so much so that he often works off the clock—or maybe he doesn’t want to go home to his empty apartment. Just as he’s slowly learning to trust his boss and co-workers, he’s attacked outside the store, and all the security he thought he had vanishes with the force of a blow to the head.

San Antonio cop Darrell Williams takes one look at the beautiful, bruised man he finds in a dingy alley behind an antiques store, and something in his heart melts. This weakness scares him, making Darrell gruff and indifferent when he should have been—and longs to be—compassionate and caring.

Aldric’s no pushover, though. He’s had enough of being ignored and treated like he doesn’t matter as much as everyone else. And he’ll make damn sure Patrol Officer Williams doesn’t dismiss him in any way…

Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of violence and assault. There are expressions of homophobia by several characters, mentions of non-nurturing parenting, references to addiction and a scene of attempted abduction.

Excerpt

The Help Wanted sign in the window stopped Aldric in his tracks. He’d been walking along San Antonio’s Pearl District, somewhat lost in his thoughts and worries, so why he noticed the sign, he couldn’t have said.

Maybe because it stood out in the day of internet-everything. All the job boards that he’d scanned and the applications for employment that he’d sent in had been online. That was just how it was done nowadays…except not at the business he’d stopped in front of.

Aldric stared at the sign for a solid minute while trying to calculate his chances of being hired if he went in and applied before going home and changing. Not that he had any fancier clothes. Jeans, T-shirts and one button-up were all that was in his wardrobe.

What are the chances someone else will apply and get hired by the time I go home, shower, shave, change and come back?

Whatever the odds were, his empty stomach didn’t want to risk them. Blinking away his musings, Aldric pushed his glasses farther up his nose, then caught himself screwing up his face to re-settle them exactly where they’d been. He attempted to smooth down his hair—being thick, it tended to tousle, even though it wasn’t long—and reached for the door handle, which was when he saw the name of the place that was hiring.

Intrinsic Value Antique Shop. At least shop wasn’t spelled all funky. It was a silly pet peeve he had, people adding extra letters onto words to make spellings like shoppe rather than shop. An antique store might have a better reason than most businesses or services to use an old spelling of the word, and he had no reason to be judgmental of anything—something he needed to keep in mind.

Even though he knew nothing about antiques, Aldric opened the door and stepped inside to the tinkling of chimes. He glanced down at the door handle inside and saw strings of silver and copper bells dangling from it.

“Good afternoon. May I help you?”

Aldric pivoted so quickly that he almost tripped over his own feet—nothing unusual for him. Heat rushed to his face, and he gulped as he spotted the older man standing with one hand on an ancient-looking cash register. “Er, yes, I, um, I—” Aldric took a deep breath and exhaled to the count of ten. If he didn’t get himself calmed down, he’d stumble over his words as well as his feet, as he tended to do when he was flustered.

“My name is Elliot Douglas. I’m the owner of Intrinsic Value. Please call me Elliot.” Elliot came around the counter and stopped in front of Aldric.

“Aldric Beamer.” Aldric offered his right hand to shake. “Nice to meet you, Elliot.” His mouth was dry, and a tickle started up in his throat.

“Nice to meet you, too.” Elliot pumped his hand one more time, then let go. “Are you here about the job? I noticed you standing outside and thought you might be considering it.”

Aldric covered his mouth and turned his head before he coughed. He lowered his hand and faced Elliot again. “Sorry, the mountain cedar is kicking my allergies into high gear. Yes, sir, I’m here about the job. Surprised me to see an actual sign in the window. Everything’s done online, it seems. I’ve been told to go home and apply online so often, I’ve quit thinking about actual signs.”

“Ah yes, the internet is an amazing tool for many things, but I prefer to meet people in person first, rather than online.” Elliot smiled, and Aldric realized the older, taller man, with his tawny-brown eyes and thick mane of slightly long, wavy light-brown hair that was just starting to silver, was quite handsome.

“Why don’t you come back this way and tell me what makes you think you’ll be a good fit at Intrinsic Value?” Elliot gestured in the direction of the cash register. “I was cleaning off my baby and would like to finish as we talk.”

“Yes, sir.” Aldric coughed again and wanted to melt into the floorboards.

“Would you like some cold water or hot tea?” Elliot offered. “I have both available.”

Aldric wasn’t sure about hot tea. He’d only ever had Texas tea—cold, with lots of sugar and ice in it. But maybe tea was a thing with Elliot. “Er, tea, please?”

Elliot glanced back at him. “You sound uncertain. Have you tried hot tea before?”

Lying wasn’t something Aldric did if he could help it. “I haven’t, but I thought a warm drink might help with my scratchy throat.”

“That it might. I have a few different kinds, but how about you try the chamomile? It’s good for all sorts of ailments.” Elliot stopped by an elegant-legged wooden table that had a silver tea kettle and several mismatched cups and saucers sitting on it.

A white ceramic dish held glass jars of tea and cubes of sugar, and a clear container was filled with what appeared to be honey. Delicate silver spoons were laid out as well. Aldric tucked his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. Everything on that table looked delicate, not only the spoons, and he was afraid to touch anything.

Which had to mean he shouldn’t apply for the job.

“Aldric?” Elliot arched one thick eyebrow. “Is chamomile okay?”

Realizing he’d more than likely made sure he wouldn’t get hired, because Elliot had to think he was on the dense side, Aldric shook his head. “It’s okay, thank you. I’ll just—” He started to take a step back.

“Just what?” Elliot asked, scooping tea from a jar before he put it into a little oval-shaped strainer. “Are you not interested in the job after all?”

Aldric bit his bottom lip and pondered whether he should stay or not. For one thing, he’d already made some kind of impression, good or bad. For another, Elliot hadn’t run him off. That has to mean I still have a chance, right? Until I tell him I know nothing about what this shop sells. Damn it.

“I’m interested, but I don’t have any experience with antiques,” Aldric rushed out, watching Elliot pour hot water over the strainer holding the tea. Elliot had put a lid on it so the tea leaves didn’t flow out.

Aldric took a step closer, unable to resist getting a better look at what Elliot was doing. He took off his round-framed glasses, polished them and shoved them back on.

“The tea needs to steep for a few minutes,” Elliot explained. “The infuser keeps most of the bits of tea leaves from escaping, but you still might have a few pieces in your cup. Those will usually settle at the bottom.”

“That’s the infuser?” Aldric asked when Elliot nudged the strainer holding the tea.

Elliot smiled at him. “Yes, it is. Do you like honey?”

“I—” Aldric’s stomach picked that moment to let out a rumbling growl. He dropped his gaze and pressed a fist to his belly. “Sorry. Skipped breakfast.”

“Well, that won’t do. It’s almost time for dinner. I’ll order us something to eat, then you and I will sit down for a proper interview—if you’re interested in the job?” Elliot picked up the jar of honey.

“Oh, I…I am, I just thought I’d blown any chance I had at it.” Aldric ducked his head and stared at the worn toes of his tennis shoes. “I don’t have any experience for it. I’ve only worked at fast-food places. I don’t know anything about antiques. I didn’t even know what that thing—the infuser—was.” His ignorance was embarrassing, and he hated that he didn’t know more.

“So,” Elliot drawled, one corner of his mouth curving up. “No experience at all? That would mean I’d have a clean slate in you, if I were to hire you. Wouldn’t have to rid you of bad habits and misinformation.”

Aldric was almost too afraid to believe he might have a chance of keeping his shitty apartment and not going hungry for much longer, after all. “Are you serious?”

“Utterly. Here, let me fix your tea, then I’ll order something from the restaurant across the street. It has a little of everything. I have a menu for it behind the counter. This won’t take a moment…” Elliot took the infuser out, then added honey to the tea.

“Thank you.” Aldric should have refused the offer of a meal, but the truth was, he was too hungry to let pride cost him sustenance. He took the warm cup of tea from Elliot and inhaled the fragrant steam rising from it. “Oh! This smells good.”

Elliot smiled at him, a delighted expression, if Aldric wasn’t reading him wrong. “I hope you’ll like the way it tastes as well. Let me grab that menu, then you can peruse it with me.”

“Okay, thanks.” Aldric took a sip of the tea. It was hotter on his tongue than he’d expected, and he winced as he swallowed. He was glad Elliot hadn’t seen him do that. The next sip he took was slower. The taste was as pleasant as the smell of the tea, the honey sweet but not overpowering.

“Here we go. I haven’t had anything bad from here yet, but then again, I always order the same thing. I’m a creature of habit in many ways.” Elliot’s smile had turned rueful.

“What do you get?” Aldric asked before taking another drink. He could get addicted to hot tea.

“Nothing adventurous, just the grilled salmon with steamed vegetables and mashed sweet potatoes.” Elliot handed him the menu. “I think the burgers should be good, though. Whenever I’m in the restaurant and see and smell them, they remind me very much of the ones my brother used to love.”

“Younger or older brother?” Aldric flipped the paper menu open to scan the selections.

Elliot froze for a second, as though something were wrong. Before Aldric could ask him if he was okay, Elliot drew in a breath, then touched his temples, where he had a few strands of gray. “Younger. Chris is thirty-two, Natty is thirty-four and I’m the old man at forty-something. Do you have any siblings?”

Aldric decided he’d get the bacon burger and sweet potato fries. He’d never had the latter before. “I have two, like you. Twins. They’re almost twenty years older than me.”

Elliot’s eyes widened. “That’s two whole decades!”

“Yeah. I was a surprise,” Aldric muttered. That was a nicer description than his family had called him at times. “Gregory and Simon are forty. I’m twenty-one.” He hoped Elliot wouldn’t ask any more questions about them, or Aldric’s family, period. Hoping to avert such possibilities, Aldric tapped the menu. “Can I get this? The bacon-mushroom burger?”

“Of course, of course.” Elliot moved back behind the counter and picked up something black. He stuck one finger in a silver ring that had smaller holes in it, and it took Aldric a moment to realize Elliot was using some kind of old phone.

Aldric had vague memories of his parents having a landline, but by the time he’d been old enough to care about it, they’d had cell phones. Even so, none of the phones Aldric had ever seen had looked like the one Elliot was now speaking into.

Elliot grinned as if he knew what Aldric was thinking, making Aldric look away and take another drink of his tea. When Elliot had looked at him then, it had occurred to Aldric that his potential boss was not only quite handsome, but very attractive. He’s about the same age as my brothers, so gross. Aldric needed a job more than he needed to get laid, and he’d never been attracted to older men, either—and he wasn’t about to start down that road now.

Not that Elliot would be interested in someone like him. Even though he’d only spent fifteen minutes in Elliot’s presence, Aldric could already tell that the guy was much classier than he’d ever be. There was also the very real possibility that Elliot wasn’t gay, despite the vibes Aldric was reading. Well, it didn’t matter one way or another.

Elliot hung up and tapped the black phone. “It’s an ancient rotary phone. My grandparents and parents had these, way back when, although we’d upgraded to a push-button phone by the time I started school. Want to see how it works?”

Aldric was itching to do just that. “Yeah, I mean, yes, I’d like that.”

The lesson taught him more than how to dial out on the phone—it taught him that Elliot was a patient and kind man. He encouraged and answered any questions Aldric had, which was freeing in a way that Aldric hadn’t experienced before. The old saying about children being seen but not heard had been a rule in his parents’ home.

“You have an inquisitive nature and a good brain.” Elliot propped a hip against the counter. “I think you’ll do well here.”

Aldric blinked in surprise. He was glad he’d set the teacup down, or else he might have dropped it, considering how much his hands trembled. “I have the job?”

Elliot nodded. “You do.”

“But…what about references and work history?” Aldric regretted asking as soon as the words were spoken.

“I like to believe I have excellent judgment when it comes to people,” Elliot said. “Am I wrong in regard to you?”

Aldric shook his head. “No. It’s just, I don’t know anything about antiques, or what I’ll be doing.”

“You can learn. Someone gave me a chance a few years ago and made this”—Elliot swept a hand toward the antiques in the shop—“possible. I’m still learning, one might say. That’s one reason I keep alphabetized cards on every item in the store, as well as those in the back. If someone asks about, say, this…” Elliot walked over to the second row of shelves and pointed to a silver tray. “What does it look like to you?”

Sweat broke out on Aldric’s brow. He knew what the object looked like to him, and it seemed obvious—was Elliot trying to trick him? No, Elliot had been nothing but kind to him. Aldric couldn’t let his own insecurity get the better of him now. “A-a silver tray?”

Elliot’s smile could have lit up the room. “Yes! So you’d just open the gold-leafed book under the register—go ahead and find it. Open it and look up ‘silver tray’.”

Aldric did as directed and was delighted to discover that most of the cards also had a small image of the item on the right corner. “It’s an eighteenth-century silver salver.” He read off the rest of the information, relief coursing through him even as he stumbled over some of the words. He could do this job.

“You won’t be alone in the store often, not at first,” Elliot said. “I’ll be out on the floor with you or, once you’ve been here for a while, in my office. Sometimes I’m away for a day or so, for instance at a fair or auction, or I might have to leave the city, to procure or sell an antique or attend an event, but I close the shop then.”

Aldric’s excitement fizzled out. “Oh. How…how long would you be gone? How often does that happen?” He’d lose out on work, and if he couldn’t support himself—

“I’d have you come in and work in the back while I’m gone. There will always be plenty of cleaning that can be done. I’ll show you how to polish silver and clean antiques—the ones that should be cleaned,” Elliot added before the door opened, and a young woman carrying a box entered. “Meredith! You are an angel of mercy.”

Meredith shook her head, making her brown hair ruffle over her shoulders, and chuckled. “Hardly. I’m just the delivery chick from across the street. Who’s this?”

“Aldric Beamer, my new employee,” Elliot answered, glancing at Aldric. “Right?”

“He’s not sure?” Meredith asked before Aldric could answer. She winked at him. “You should work for Mr. Douglas. He’s cool, and I bet he pays well, judging by the tips he gives me.”

Aldric hadn’t even thought to ask what his wages would be. The whole job-thing had happened so fast it felt like a dream.

“We haven’t discussed his pay.” Elliot took out his wallet and removed several bills from it. “But, of course, I believe in paying a livable wage.”

Aldric knew first-hand that minimum wage wasn’t a livable wage. He’d worked just under full-time and had often skipped meals to make rent. More than once, his electricity had been cut off. No fast-food joint he’d worked at had wanted to employ him full-time—that would have meant offering him health insurance. Then things had taken a turn for the worse and he’d found himself unemployed and hovering at the edge of homelessness.

“Aldric?”

Aldric lifted his glasses with one hand and rubbed a knuckle of the other into his eye. “Sorry. I sort of drifted off. I promise I won’t do that while I’m on the clock.”

Elliot held out a box and a drink. “I have utter faith in your ability to work well. Here, take this and head to the back. Second door on the left is my office. We’ll dine in there.”

“Fancy,” Meredith said, her brown eyes alive with humor. “Nice meeting you, Aldric.”

“Nice meeting you, too,” he replied, his face heating because he’d mentally checked out in front of her and Elliot.

He found Elliot’s office and was almost afraid to sit down in the plush leather chairs. The whole room looked like something out of an old-time movie, with its shiny wood surfaces, smooth leather seats and framed black-and-white photos from decades ago on the walls.

“Have a seat. Well, scoot closer to the desk if you want to use it for a table.” Elliot came around to the other side of his desk and sat, placing his own food on it. “There’s a coaster for your drink in the wood tray to your left.”

Aldric found the coaster and set his drink and boxed meal down before moving one of the leather chairs closer. “This is a very nice office. Is everything in it antique?”

Elliot began removing his food from the box it had come in. “Yes, except the pens and paper. Although I do have a quill pen!” He pointed at a long white feather. “It’s not quite an antique, but I like it.”

Aldric took a bite of his burger, and his stomach gave a happy rumble. “This is good,” he muttered after he’d swallowed.

Elliot grinned. “I’m glad you like it. My salmon smells amazing, as always. Before I start in on it, though, I want to cover salary, hours and health insurance.”

Aldric almost choked on the sweet potato fry he’d just bitten into. “Health insurance?” No. His ears were playing tricks on him.

But they weren’t. Elliot explained how he’d make sure Aldric was covered, without a waiting period. Aldric would have a full forty hours a week, would be paid at time and a half for any hours over that, and while he wouldn’t get rich working at Intrinsic Value, he’d earn that much-longed-for livable wage. It seemed too good to be true, and Aldric quickly and gratefully accepted everything he was offered, hoping that nothing happened to make this dream-come-true come crashing down around him.

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About the Author

Bailey Bradford

A native Texan, Bailey spends her days spinning stories around in her head, which has contributed to more than one incident of tripping over her own feet. Evenings are reserved for pounding away at the keyboard, as are early morning hours. Sleep? Doesn’t happen much. Writing is too much fun, and there are too many characters bouncing about, tapping on Bailey’s brain demanding to be let out.

Caffeine and chocolate are permanent fixtures in Bailey’s office and are never far from hand at any given time. Removing either of those necessities from Bailey’s presence can result in what is known as A Very, Very Scary Bailey and is not advised under any circumstances.

You can follow Bailey Bradford on Twitter and Facebook.

Giveaway

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Bailey Bradford Artifacts Giveaway

BAILEY BRADFORD IS GIVING AWAY THIS FABULOUS PRIZE TO ONE LUCKY WINNER. ENTER HERE FOR YOUR CHANCE TO WIN A LOVELY GIFT PACKAGE AND GET A FREE EBOOK FROM THE AUTHOR! Notice: This competition ends on 27TH April 2021 at 5pm GMT. Competition hosted by Totally Entwined Group.

Cover Reveal: Destination Don’ts, by Shyla Colt

DESTINATION DONTS CR BANNER

Destination Donts

Title: Destination Don’ts
Author: Shyla Colt
Genre: Multicultural Romance
Editor: There for You Editing
Cover Designer: Covers In Color
Publisher: Inspired Ink
Publication Date: April 22nd, 2021
Hosted by: Lady Amber’s PR

Blurb:

Destination Don’ts

Don’t overindulge in alcohol on the flight

Don’t make out with the hot stranger next to you

Don’t think you’ll never see the sexy as sin make out partner again

Don’t fall in love in paradise 

There are rules and etiquette for destination weddings. Kisi and Agustin broke them all.

 

USA Today Bestselling author Shyla Colt is a chaos wrangler, chronic crafter, and imaginary friend collector. The mom of two and a wife road trips with her weird brood when she’s not taking on a new hobby or bingeing on spooky podcasts and documentaries. She writes strong women with sass, plenty of nerdy tendencies, and the intriguing intense males who love them.

 

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I can’t shake the bit of sorrow that burrowed into my heart the moment I watched K get swallowed by the other travelers in the airport. I need a minute to get my head right and prepare to engage with my parents.

After unpacking my clothing, I hop in the shower. The white tiled showed is massive. The rain showerhead and view of the ocean from the window help me get into a vacation mindset. Washing away the travel, I let the negative energy go down the drain along with the dirt. This is a happy time, and I’m not going to dampen it in any way. My best friend is marrying the woman of his dreams, who’s perfect for him. That means there might be hope for me as well. Forty is the new thirty, and I’m starting to feel the desire to put down roots.

I’ve had wanderlust for so long it took me time to figure out what this new feeling might be. It’s not that I want to stop traveling altogether. I’m just sick of always doing it alone. Won’t Pierce get a kick out of hearing this? Refreshed, I step out of the shower, dry off with a fluffy white towel, and dress. The tropical theme in the room continues with a green leaf covered bed spread and matching curtains. I’m running a brush through my hair when a knock sounds on the door. Tossing my soft-bristled brush onto the counter in the bathroom, I hurry to the front door.

“Brother, it’s so good to see you.” Pierce engulfs me in a hug, and I laugh.  His sandy blonde hair has been tamed for the wedding. Shorter on the left side, it’s got a nice fullness in the front he’s brushed back in a nod to the fifties pompadour. I swear his hazel-colored eyes glow with joy. Nova has been good for him.

“Likewise, my friend.” I pat his back, and he steps into the room, closing the door behind him.

“You look good, Gus.”

“A life on the road doing what you love will do that for a man.” I grin, laying it on thick to hide the twinge of jealousy at his impending domestic bliss.

“I’ve always admired your ability to go after your dreams and make them come true.” Pierce smiles. “We’re going down a bit early to meet the maid of honor since you’ll both be working closely together over the next week.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

“Nova asked me to put in a request.”

I arch an eyebrow. “What can I do to make Nova’s special day even better?”

Pierce clears his throat. “Can you tone down the Casanova vibe with the wedding party? She doesn’t want any room for mishaps or hurt feelings.”

I chuckle. “My friend, it’s not my fault women are pulled to me like bees to honey.”

“More like flies to shit.”

I cringe and hold a hand over my heart.

“I don’t want her pissed off this weekend.”

“I get it.” I hold my hands. “I’m here to support you two and celebrate your union. Not troll for a hookup.” I feel a stab of pain. That’s never my intention. I’m not a man who falls often, but I do enjoy carnal pleasures. I never lead anyone on, though.

“I know that’s not you. You never intend to leave a trail of broken hearts behind you, Agustin. Your charm is like gravity. It’s impossible not to be pulled toward you in some way.” 

“It’s my curse to bear.” I sigh dramatically, and he chuckles.

“You ready?”

“Let’s do it.” I pocket my room key and follow him out the front door.

Is this how everyone sees me? Some sort of Don Juan who never sticks around?

We reach the elevator, and my heart stumbles in my chest. Standing beside Nova is my mystery woman, K. Her lips part, and I remember their taste and feel. She casts a worried glance from Nova to Pierce. I wink.

“There you are.” Nova steps forward, pulling me into a hug and blocking K from my line of vision.

“It’s good to see you again, Nova. Congratulations.”

“I’m so glad to have our two favorite people in the same place for the first time.” Nova steps back and turns to K. “Kisi, this is Gus. Gus, this is my best friend since middle school, Kisi.”

Kisi. I roll her name around in my head. A beautiful, unique name for a woman with the same qualities.

“It’s nice to meet you, Kisi.” I smile.

“Same, Gus?” She tilts her head.

I chuckle. “Short for Agustin.”

“We do hugs around here.” I pull her into my arms. “Hello, Cinderella,” I whispered into her ear. “I appear to have found the one who fits the glass slipper she left behind.” I pull back, amused by the fire that flickers to life in the depths of her dark eyes. There’s the woman who kissed me on the plane.

“Pretty confident to assume the role of Prince Charming,” she mumbles.

“Did you prefer Snow White? You did look adorable sleeping on my shoulder.” I cast a glance at the soon-to-be newlyweds whispering to one another as I press the elevator button.

“Stop.”

As the car arrives with a ding, and the doors roll open, I admire her hips in the off-the-shoulder white dress with the light blue floral pattern. I stand close to her while the others enter, occasionally brushing our arms as we travel to the main floor. I’ll play along for now, but the fact that we ran into each other again is fate at work. The Garcia men have the zing when we meet the woman we’re supposed to be with. Like our body goes up in flames, and our heart syncs with them. I’m peering at Kisi, feeling lovesick and frightened as hell. Is this where I get taken down by the Garcia zing? No. Be careful what you wish for. You’ve been thinking about settling down for a couple of years.

“Mijo.”

I jerk to the left and spot my mother and father directly in front of us.  He still towers over me at six foot four, though age has taken some of his mass. His shoulders are still broad, but over all he’s slender, and his facial features are sharper. The square jaw and wide forehead are nearly identical to my own.

“I’ll meet you inside in a moment,” I tell Pierce, who nods.

“Hey, Mom.” I bend down and hug the petite woman with a slender frame to me.

“Finally, I see my son with my own eyes.”

“It’s only been nine months.” I smile as I kiss her cheek.

“Dad.” We shake hands.

“Skype is not the same, Agustin.” Mom humphs.

“How’s playing in the dirt coming along?”

“The excavation went well. We’re going to be featured in Nat Geo for the discoveries we found at the Roman soldier site. It’s revealed some previously unknown information.”

“Aren’t they less than reputable these days after the whole Mer people debacle? And that super shark.”

“Megalodon,” I mumble. He always finds a way to snatch the joy from me. “And that’s television. We’re going to be interviewed and published in their magazine and speak at one of the conventions later. It’s a big honor.”

“That’s wonderful.” My mother fixes my father with a cold stare. “Isn’t it, Mateo?”

Dad’s never gotten over the fact that I didn’t want to join his firm or follow in his footsteps like Tomas and Diego. There’s a reason why they’re still single and slightly disgruntled. The weight of pressure is heavy. They can have that crown because I never wanted Dad’s kingdom in the first place. But I do miss his approval and affection. Of the three of us, I favor Papa most, but we couldn’t be more different.

“Yes. I’m glad they’ve recognized your hard work and brilliance.” It’s the closest I’m going to get to a ‘job well done’ from him.

“Thanks, Papa. I need to catch up with Pierce and see what they’d like me to do this evening. I’ll see you later at dinner.” I can’t get away fast enough as I turn on my heel and leave them behind.

 

 

Cover Reveal: From Blood to Ink + Giveaway

from blood to ink cr BANNER (1)

 

Title: From Blood to Ink
Author: Brynn Myers
Genre: Fantasy/Paranormal
Editor: Liz Ferry at Per Se Editing
Cover Designer: Emily Wittig from Emily Wittig Designs
Publisher: Indigo Ink Publications
Publication Date: April 30th, 2021
Hosted by: Lady Amber’s PR

Blurb:

Indigo James was a successful author until the day she got writer’s block, and everything changed. Weeks turned into months without anything but fleeting thoughts and half-ass ideas. That is until the day she met Mila Aeress—aka the Goddess of Chaos. Suddenly Indigo is thrust into a world she only thought existed in books. Now she’s bound to her writing for a completely different reason. Her life and her works are more than labors of love; they’re a matter of life or death. Each new manuscript becomes a book of sacrifice when her blood literally turns to ink.

 

Brynn Myers is a paranormal romance author. After considering writing a hobby for years, she finally turned her passion and talent into a career. She came into the paranormal genre later than most but has always loved fairy-tales and all things magical. Using that love, she creates charmed worlds by writing stories involving passionate, strong-willed characters with something to discover.

 

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They should be simple enough. I mean, everything begins with them, right? A single letter can be a word. A series of words become sentences. A series of sentences become paragraphs: papers, short stories, novellas, novels. Sounds easy, and yet as I sat there staring at a blank page, I couldn’t for the life of me seem to put my thoughts into a cohesive flow.

I was suffering from a severe case of writer’s block, and my muses seemed to be on the longest coffee break ever. This would have been all well and good if I weren’t under a deadline with my publisher. Naomi had been kind enough to give me three extensions but had made it clear there would not be a fourth. I sent her some pages in hopes she’d take pity on me, but instead, she emailed them back to me in a bold, harsh font and told me they lacked my usual passion and fire and to go back to the drawing board.

Nine hours later, I was still staring at a blank screen. Hope of any inspiration knocking me over was as cold as the cup of coffee and a half-eaten chicken sandwich sitting on my desk. Nothing was working—not the junk food or the
caffeine. Maybe I should grab some chocolate and alcohol, I thought. Wasn’t it Ernest Hemingway who said, “Write drunk, edit sober”? Hell, what did I have to lose at this point?

 

 

 

 

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