Title: The Reaping Season
Author: Apryl Baker
Genre: YA PNR/Horror
Publisher: Limitless Publishing, LLC
Cover Designer: Deranged Doctor Design
Publication Date: Nov. 30th, 2021
Hosted by: Lady Amber’s PR
A Bee In Her Bonnet
Cat’s Paw Cove Book 24
by Sharon Buchbinder
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Not all that buzzes is a bee…
Elva Boyd, an extroverted elf, uses bees and honey to treat patients in pain. Art Klarastos, an introverted demi-god, beekeeper, and inventor is her best friend. When Elva’s beehives disappear, Art beelines to her to deliver the news. Distressed, Elva pleads for his assistance with the mystery of the missing boxes. Kit Kat, his matchmaking talking cat, makes a deal with Elva: Art will help her in exchange for a real date.
Art is mortified, but Elva agrees without hesitation. While they attempt to deduce why someone might want to steal her bees’ homes, a couple arrives and claims to be Elva’s long-lost parents. An orphan raised in Cat’s Paw Cove by her aunt and uncle, Elva is ecstatic. Suspicious of these unknown elves, Art shares his concerns—but Elva tunes out his buzzing.
When her parents declare they have come to take her home to Scotland for her contractually obligated wedding, Art is devastated. Will his best friend leave with her newfound family and soon-to-be-husband? Or will he be able to convince her that he is the beekeeper of her heart?
Aside from his one trip to Rome on the way to visit his grandfather in Greece, Art had never seen so many cats in one place. Before he could begin counting them, his parents dragged him through the enormous front door with the stained-glass window at the top and a cat door at the bottom. Squealing elders clustered around him, pinching his cheeks, patting his head, shaking his hand, and peppering him with so many questions his head spun.
A silver-haired woman with a big nose inspected him like he was for sale. “Small for ten years old. Eyeglasses? No one else in the family is near-sighted. You must read too much.” She glared at him. “Well, what do you have to say for yourself, young man?”
A chubby woman in a red and green flamingo-bedecked muumuu took his hand. “Pay no mind to her, dear. Do you like desserts?”
“Come with me. I made a fresh batch of baklava.”
His mother placed a hand on his shoulder. “No sweets before dinner. Go play.”
“Okay, Mom.” Eager to escape his weird relatives, Art raced outside to the porch. Cats were everywhere. Lounging cats, stretching cats, standing cats, strolling cats, rolling cats, rubbing cats—cats, cats, cats! Two huge cats sat like Egyptian statues at the top of the banister, black tails dangling down in question marks, masked golden eyes boring holes into his forehead. Rocking chairs meant for humans seated two and three felines, in furry piles, paws splayed in all directions. All bicolor, the herd of kitties sported stripes, spots, or random patterns in an endless variation of shapes.
How many are there?
He started a mental tally, turned a corner, and immediately lost count. A girl, one foot curled under her, sat reading on a wicker bench. She pushed a strand of long blonde hair away from her eyes and tucked it behind her ear. Her pointed ear. Entranced at the sight of another kid at this old folks’ home—much less an elf—he couldn’t tear his gaze away from her.
Without taking her eyes off her book, she said, “It’s rude to stare.”
“S-s-sorry. Y-y-your ears are pointed?” As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he hated himself.
Frowning, she glared at him with ice blue eyes. “You don’t like them?”
“N-n-no—I LOVE them!”
Her face reddened. “Really? You’re not just saying that?”
He shook his head. “I’ve n-n-never met anyone like you.”
I’m an idiot. Why can’t I say anything right?
She stuck a piece of paper at her page and closed the book. “What’s your name?”
“I’m Elva. Why are you here?”
“V-v-visiting relatives.” He ventured a question. “Wh-wh-what are you doing here?”
She shrugged. “I live here.”
Sharon Buchbinder has been writing fiction since middle school and has the rejection slips to prove it. An RN, she provided health care delivery, became a researcher, association executive, and obtained a PhD in Public Health. She is the author of the Hotel LaBelle Series, the Jinni Hunter Series, and the Obsession Series. When not attempting to make students and colleagues laugh or writing, she can be found walking her dogs, herding cats, or breaking bread and laughing with family and friends.
Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!
$20 Amazon giftcard,
All 4 e-books by Sharon in her Cats Paw Cove Series:
Charlotte Redbird, Ghost Coach, Taken by the Imp, Healed with a Kiss & A Bee in Her Bonnet!
-1 winner each!
by Kinsley Adams
(Dating Monsters, #1)
Publication date: March 15th 2021
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Paranormal, Romance
The Legend. The Immortal. My… Boyfriend?
You know, I really only had two goals in life:
1) Unearth the truth about vampires and,
2) Become hella famous.
Nowhere on that list did I have “die” or “get turned into a bloodsucker.” But guess what? Life doesn’t always go according to plan. Now, thanks to an unfortunate back-alley encounter, I’m the newest member of the undead country club (fangs, coffin, and all). And my savior? Sire? Whatever…
Freaking. Dracula. Himself.
Even stranger, he claims I’m his mate. Like… eternal love. But come on! I don’t have time for that. Not only do I need to track down my attempted murderer, but I also need to learn how to be a vampire. Falling in love is the last thing on my mind right now.
Too bad Dracula has other plans for me.
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“I’m sorry,” she whispered with her back still to me. “I just…. You died, Anna. You’re dead.”
“Undead,” my savior clarified for like the third time.
“It’s still dead!” Lucy snapped.
Even I glared at him. Now wasn’t the time for his little comments.
“I—I don’t know how to handle all this. Do I grieve for you? Or celebrate the fact that you’re still walking around? You’re a vampire, Anna. For frick’s sake, do you know what that means? You drink blood, you sleep in a coffin… you aren’t you anymore. How am I supposed to handle this?”
My dead heart shattered. “You’re supposed to accept me as I am,” I said, struggling to keep my voice steady. “We’re sisters. Always. Forever.”
“Except always and forever means two very different things to us now,” she said.
I forced myself to swallow. From the sounds of it, Lucy was breaking up with me. Which almost made me laugh. She was my longest relationship ever. And she wanted to walk away from it? All because of an accident I had no control over?
I ran a hand down my face and turned toward my savior. Someone whose name I really needed to learn. I couldn’t keep referring to him as my savior or I was going to develop some major hero worship issues.
“Anna, I’m sorry,” Lucy repeated. “But I think I need some time to process all this.”
I nodded, all the while keeping my gaze trained on my savior. He was the only thing keeping me calm right now. The thought that I might lose my best friend over all this was too much. I couldn’t show her how much this hurt, because if I did, I might never recover. Lucy had stormed into a vamp club at my side, but apparently, she drew the line at death.
And honestly? I didn’t blame her. This time, tears really did spring to my eyes, but I blinked them back before they spilled. If I started crying, I had a feeling I’d never stop.
“I’m going to head back to the hotel,” she said. “I’ve been staying there the past few nights.” Wait, what? Past few nights? But before I could question that little tidbit, she continued speaking. “Do you want me to call your parents for you? Explain what happened?”
“No,” I rasped. That wasn’t her responsibility. If anyone was going to tell them about my transformation, it would be me.
“I’ll text you,” she mumbled, but her voice was already fading. She was leaving.
Text me. Ugh. Why not just tell me you hope we can still be friends?
I hated this. What happened to best friends forever? I’d like to think that if this had happened to her, I’d still be standing by her side. Lucy was my world. Nothing could have convinced me to leave her.
“I’m sorry” was her final comment before I heard the door shut.
I took a few minutes to absorb everything. Thankfully, my savior let me brood in silence. I appreciated that. I wasn’t in the mood to hear platitudes right now.
Once I was sure I had schooled my expression, I turned toward him and nodded. It was embarrassing to have someone witness a break-up, but there wasn’t anything I could do about that now.
I needed a distraction. I didn’t want to think about Lucy right now. I’d reserve that for later, when I was alone and could process everything myself. Instead, I stared up at him, once again stricken speechless when our gazes met. Why did I find him so enthralling? So fascinating? It felt like I could stare at him for hours.
Clearing my throat, I rubbed the bridge of my nose and asked, “Well, do you have a name?”
His brows shot upward, and an amused smile claimed his lips, exposing the tips of his fangs. Intrigued, I reached for my own, poking them with my fingertip. They must have been what scraped my tongue earlier. Seemed they were a permanent fixture too. I’d have to remember that when talking and laughing. Vampires might be public knowledge now, but as seen by Lucy, humans weren’t one hundred percent ready to accept them yet.
“Forgive me,” he said, his voice deliciously rumbly. “I’m so accustomed to being recognized wherever I go that I often forget to introduce myself.”
So, he was like vampire royalty or something?
Fangs still peeking out from behind his lips, he gave an old-fashioned bow, one he executed flawlessly, then peered at me through long, dark lashes. I shit you not, the boy almost breathed life back into me. He was just that gorgeous.
“My name is Vlad.” He took my hand and lifted it to his lips before brushing a gentle kiss across my knuckles. “But most know me as Dracula.”
I wish I could say I absorbed that information with grace and poise. But that would have been a lie. Instead, I burst out laughing, and said, “No shit!”
Kinsley Adams is a thirty-something-year-old author who stopped counting when she turned twenty-five. When she isn’t writing uproariously hilarious romantic comedies, she’s raising her womb-gremlin with the hopes that he might one day become the world’s first Supreme Leader.
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