Spotlight & Excerpt: Kept From Cages, by Phil Williams

kept-from-cages_williams_banner

kept-from-cages_williams

Kept From Cages
Series: Ikiri (#1)
by Phil Williams
Published: September 21, 2020
Genre: Supernatural Action-Thriller
Age Group: Adult
Pages: 261 (Print Length)

No one returns from Ikiri.

Reece’s gang of criminal jazz musicians have taken shelter in the wrong house. There’s a girl with red eyes bound to a chair. The locals call her a devil – but Reece sees a kid that needs protecting. He’s more right than he knows.

Chased by a shadowy swordsman and an unnatural beast, the gang flee across the Deep South with the kid in tow. She won’t say where she’s from or who exactly her scary father is, but she’s got powers they can’t understand. How much will Reece risk to save her?

On the other side of the world, Agent Sean Tasker’s asking similar questions. With an entire village massacred and no trace of the killers, he’s convinced Duvcorp’s esoteric experiments are responsible. His only ally is an unstable female assassin, and their only lead is Ikiri – a black-site in the Congo, which no one leaves alive. How far is Tasker prepared to go for answers?

Kept From Cages is the first part in an action-packed supernatural thriller duology, filled with eccentric characters and intricately woven mysteries. Start your journey to Ikiri today.

Goodreads / Amazon
Kept From Cages will be  99c/99p on US/UK Kindle from January 13th–19th.

kept-from-cages_williams_mockup

Excerpt:

“Don’t blame yourself,” Reece said, hefting Stomatt’s unconscious bulk up the dirt track. “None of us guessed he lost that much blood.”
“Even still,” Caleb replied, stooping to help. “Shoulda been me behind the wheel. Always shoulda been me behind the wheel.”
“He insisted, didn’t he? What were you gonna do, two maniacs shooting at us?”
“Insist back!” Caleb’s eyes shone in the dark. “Coulda said, ‘No, listen, Sto, I’m driving.’ Coulda got us clear with no hassle.”
“We got clear, and you did good.” Reece grinned. A grin that could charm the devil’s horns off his head, Leigh-Ann liked to say. Even in a thick boiler suit, torn and dirtied from a day’s fighting and fleeing, his hair dyed a murky green. They might be filthy and stinking and hurt in places they were yet to check, stranded on some unlit path to the middle of nowhere, but they were damn alive after taking on a billion-dollar company of thugs. Yeah, their car had flipped and they were still a long way from the safety of Stilt Town, let alone home, and Stomatt might be seriously injured – but they’d done what Reece said they would do and won. That’s what the smile said, and Caleb smiled back.
“Sure,” he said. “But we maybe shoulda switched driver. Made for the main roads after all?”
Reece checked the wood-panel house ahead again. A little further and they’d hit its two-step porch, knock and see who, exactly, lived in the empty fields halfway between Waco and Shreveport. Only an occasional tree on the black horizon told them they were anything short of stumbling through limbo itself. But lights shone yellow in the cross-barred windows, behind curtains – beacons to salvation.
“Reckon they cannibals?” Caleb said.
Reece traded his it’s-all-good smile for his that’d-be-a-laugh one. Even if this wasn’t the home of good honest farmhands, there wasn’t much the Cutjaw Kids couldn’t handle. They dragged Stomatt across a shingle drive, the scrape of boots on stone announcing their approach. Caleb grumbled, “Don’t like leaving Leigh-Ann alone back there neither.”
“She’s better than fine,” Reece said. “You wanna worry? Worry about how we’re gonna spend all that money once we get back to Cutjaw.”
The floorboards creaked as they climbed the steps. The only sound besides them breathing. All those lights on and nothing happening inside: no talking, no TV, no movement.
“Think they’re not in?” Caleb said.
“Find out, won’t we? Lower him here, easy.”
With Stomatt propped against the wall, Reece straightened out the boiler suit and patted down his legs, then twisted his gun belt round so the pistol was hidden to his rear. Caleb caught his eye like he wanted to suggest something worrisome, and Reece smiled it off before it was said. Because everyone liked Reece once he got talking. He rapped a knuckle on the door. “Excuse me, good people! I know it’s late but we’re in bad need of assistance.” No reply. “Had ourselves an accident back up the road. Damnedest thing, you wouldn’t believe – car on its roof, and we got a man down.”
Nothing. Caleb worried, “Think they heard us coming, hid away?”
“Why’d anyone hide from a couple harmless musicians?” Reece said. Caleb’s eye tracked down to the gun belt. Reece curled his nose: even if they did see La Belle Riposte holstered there, it was an instrument as exquisite as his trumpet. And they were in Texas – who didn’t have a gun? He knocked again. “Hate to be a burden, but my friend here lost a lot of blood – can’t even stand right now.” Still nothing. “We’re decent people, like yourselves – just trying to get back home.”
Caleb shifted. “We could try another one?”
“Another house?” Reece raised an eyebrow to indicate the hundred miles of nothing surrounding them. He called out, “We don’t need to stay long, just got to patch up my friend – get him some water, fresh bandages. I gotta insist on that much at least.” One last pause. “We’ll make our own entrance if we have to.”
“Better y’all go on your way!” a gruff voice finally answered – a big man.
“Gladly, with the barest assistance!” Reece answered amiably.
“Get on! What you’re looking for’s not here.”
“All the same, if you could open up, it’d save –”
The door swung in on a man with a double-barrelled shotgun. “I said –”
Reece spoke over him fast: “No need for that, sir, we didn’t come looking for trouble. Name’s Reece Coburn, horn-maestro, as reviewed in Two Shoots Magazine, and this here’s my associate Caleb ‘Low Bone’ Gray – heard of him?”
The man’s mouth hung open in surprise, his threat trapped there. He was large with over-indulgence, someone that could knock you down with a swat if it didn’t give him a heart attack. His ruddy face was partly hidden by a tangled beard, and he had on a faded check shirt, leather suspenders clipped to mud-caked jeans. Over his shoulder, in a doorway down the hall, was another man, as lean as the first was wide, snub-nosed, warty-faced, with shirt and jeans as tatty as a scarecrow’s. Unarmed and nervous.
“What?” The shotgun farmer recovered slowly from Reece’s friendliness, eyes darting to the green hair and back. “No, listen here – get on back down that road or I’ll –”
“We would kindly get on,” Reece said, “but see, Caleb and me with our tender frames, we’re not up to carrying this burden far.” Reece scuffed a foot to draw attention to Stomatt. The farmer looked at the bleached-blond oaf splattered black with dry blood.
“The hell –”
Reece stepped into the kitchen, pushed the shotgun down with one hand and drew his pistol with the other. Stunned the farmer with his speed, as his companion exclaimed, “Jesus!”
“Stay put, friend, and relax,” Reece said, grip tight on the shotgun. “I got no intention of hurting you, I mean it. Water, medicine, shelter, that’s all we want. Our priority’s keeping him alive. Anything else is a bonus we won’t assume.” Moving around the farmer, Reece sped on, “You can’t have heard of us – two parts of the Cutjaw Kids – otherwise you’d know we’re decent people, only ever hurt them that deserve it.” The slim man threw an instinctive glance back, into the next room. Blocking that doorway for a reason. Reece slowed down. “We interrupt something?”
The farmer went rigid on his shotgun, for a second seeming like he might pull the trigger just to shake Reece off. Reece warned him against it with a casual wave of the pistol.
“Caleb, you haul Sto in here?”
“I’ll try,” Caleb answered honestly, and gave the farmer an apologetic look as he started to manoeuvre Stomatt’s bulk through the doorway.
“Listen,” Reece said. “We got problems enough of our own not to interfere with yours. But I think you oughta let go of this gun now.”
The farmer didn’t shift. Caleb huffed upright from struggling with Stomatt. “Want I should cover him, Reece?”
“Wish you didn’t have to.”
“Go to hell,” the farmer said.
“That’ll be a yes.”
Caleb drew a pistol from inside his boiler suit. “Got him.”
The farmer gave him a sceptical glance. People tended to go one of two ways with Caleb; kind-faced, softly-spoken, hunched with self-consciousness, he struck people as either slow enough to take advantage of or too quietly calm to trust. After a moment, the farmer settled on the latter, and finally loosened his grip on the shotgun. Reece took it. “Now what’s the fuss?”
The slim one straightened up. “You ain’t coming through here, no way –”
The man flattened himself against a wall as Reece pushed past into the next room. The farmer called out, an explanation or a dismissal. Reece didn’t hear it. A woman on the far side of the room gasped, but she wasn’t his concern. Dead centre, with the other furniture cleared to the sides, was a girl no older than seven, sat on a wooden chair. Her arms, legs and chest were bound by thick leather belts. Her black hair hung in locks over hazel skin, the white of her eyes haloing big dark irises that fixed on Reece.
Reece glanced at the woman for an explanation; young but built big, in the same farming slacks as the men. Likely the farmer’s daughter. She cringed at the pistol, too scared to speak. Reece turned back to Slim, who raised his hands.
“Ain’t what it looks like! She’s the devil, I swear!”
“What is it, Reece?” Caleb asked.
“Like y’all ain’t involved?” the farmer snarled.
“What in hell kind of –” Reece spun back to the girl. “They hurt you? Jesus – what’d they do –”
He crouched, about to grab her bindings, when Slim pleaded, “No, don’t!” He flinched at Reece’s pistol but continued, “Look at her eyes!”
Holding his gun steady, Reece checked the girl again. Her gently dark skin was marred around the extremities: grubby at her neck, dark under the eyes and nose, scratched. She had on a white t-shirt and denim dungarees, all stained – fallen in mud a few times. Her gaze hadn’t left him since he entered. Eyes massive in her face. The irises, now he looked, were red as blood.
“You see it, don’t you?” Slim said.
“Don’t bother, Donny,” the farmer growled from the hallway. “Think they come rolling in here by chance? With all that thing’s been saying?”
“Dammit,” Caleb said, “let’s see.”
Reece frowned as Caleb pushed the farmer into the room. “That thing?”
“Ho-ly hell,” Caleb gasped, over the farmer’s shoulder.
“She ain’t right.” The farmer’s daughter found her voice, a squeak. Terrified as slim Donny, getting busted like this.
“We wanted to help her, man!” Donny insisted. “But she says things –”
“Get yourself up against that wall,” Reece said. “The pair of you. And you” – to the woman – “untie this goddamn child.”
“I ain’t staying.” Donny made a move. “Not if she’s loose.”
“Please,” the girl said, weakly. Donny winced. “Help me …”
Reece said, “None of y’all are leaving. Didn’t I ask you to untie her?”
“Don’t you dare,” the farmer rumbled, before his daughter could budge.
“You miss the part where we got guns on you?” Caleb asked. “Shit, I’ll do it –” He stepped forward and the farmer lunged for the gun. The pair of them twisted over it, the farmer’s weight bearing them to the ground. Donny sprang for the door and tripped, the stumble making Reece’s shot hit the wall where his head should’ve been. The farmer shouted murderously, grappling with Caleb, and the daughter screamed, as Donny dived out the room and Reece’s second shot hit the doorframe.
A third shot sounded, muffled by Caleb’s scuffle. The farmer’s angry shout spiked and Caleb yelled, “Get this fat bastard off me!” But Reece was running through the hallway, as Donny sprawled spider-like out across the drive. Reece aimed as he reached the door, but hit a patch of Stomatt’s blood and slid, landing on his rear. He scrambled upright and saw a last slither of Donny’s angular joints slipping into shadow. Man moved like a damn greyhound.
Caleb grunted around the farmer’s bulk and the daughter’s screams turned to fierce curses. Caleb insisted, “Ma’am, you saw him attack me! Woulda killed me!”
Reece trotted back to the living room to find the farmer inert on the carpet, blood pooling under his chest. His daughter was shuddering in a crouch as Caleb stood over her, gun at his side. “Stop screaming, please – I didn’t want to have to do it!”
And in the middle of the chaos sat the red-eyed girl, eyes locked on Reece again. Afraid. Reece holstered his gun and took a knee. “It’s gonna be alright, cher. We’ve got you.” The farmer’s daughter kept whimpering, no no no.
Rapid footsteps came over the entrance boards and both Reece and Caleb spun with pistols raised. It was Leigh-Ann, running in with a MAC-10 submachine gun and a deadly look on her face. Reece yelled, “Dammit Leigh there’s a kid in here!”
She shouted, “What in hell are y’all doing?”
The shrieked question stilled the room, even the farmer’s daughter going quiet. The trio of gun-toting criminals looked at each other, the dead farmer and tied-up girl. Reece stood, in silent admission that this had got well out of hand.
Leigh-Ann laughed. “Shit, boys, this your idea of getting help?”

 

phil-williamsAbout the Author

Phil Williams is an author of contemporary fantasy and dystopian fiction, including the Ordshaw urban fantasy thrillers and the post-apocalyptic Estalia series. He also writes reference books to help foreign learners master the nuances of English, two of which are regular best-sellers on Kindle. He lives with his wife by the coast in Sussex, UK, and spends a great deal of time walking his impossibly fluffy dog, Herbert.

Website
Twitter
Facebook
Instagram
Goodreads

 

Follow the rest of the tour here.

Book Blitz & Excerpt: The Ultimate Betrayal + Giveaway

the ultimate betrayal

The Ultimate Betrayal
by Kat Martin
Maximum Security series, #3

Romantic Suspense, Action & Adventure

Date Published: paperback release date 12/29/20

Publisher: HQN

When investigative journalist Jessie Kegan’s father, a colonel in the army, is accused of treason, Jessie is determined to clear his name. Reluctantly, she turns to former Special Ops soldier, Brandon Garrett, her late brother’s best friend–a true heartbreaker, according to her brother.

With danger coming from every angle, time is running out and the game being played is deadly. Working together, Bran and Jessie must risk everything to solve the riddle and confront the threat–before it’s too late.

Purchase Links

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

Kobo

Google

AppleBooks

The Ultimate Betrayal Blitz

Excerpt

Too much downtime always made him nervous, kind of edgy as he waited for the other shoe to drop. It had been a week since his last client had headed back to Nashville, a week of peace and quiet he should have enjoyed.

Instead, he had this nagging feeling that something bad was coming down the line.

Lounging back in the chair behind his desk at Maximum Security, Brandon Garrett looked up at the sound of the front door swinging open. A gust of cool, late October winds swept in, along with a petite, whirlwind of a woman with the prettiest strawberry blond hair Bran had ever seen.

She had a sweet little body to match her fiery curls, he noticed, outlined by the dark blue stretch jeans curving over her sexy little ass and the peach knit top that hugged her breasts.

It wasn’t tough to read the anxiety in her big green eyes as she surveyed the room, but instead of heading for the receptionist’s desk, those big green eyes landed on Bran and as she started toward him, there was something about her that rang a distant bell. Interest piqued, he rose from his chair. “Can I help you?”

You’re Brandon Garrett, right? You were a friend of my brother’s. Danny Kegan? I recognize you from the photos Danny sent home.”

The mention of his best friend’s name hit him like a blow, and the muscles across his stomach clenched. Daniel Kegan had been a member of his spec ops team, a brother, not just a friend. Danny had saved Bran’s life at the cost of his own. He was KIA in Afghanistan.

Bran stared down at the girl, who was maybe five-foot-four. “You’re Jessie,” he said, remembering the younger sister Daniel Kegan had talked so much about. “You look like him. Same color hair and eyes.”

She nervously wet her lips, which were plump and pink and fit her delicate features perfectly.

My brother said if I ever needed help, I should come to you. He said you’d help me no matter what.” She glanced back toward the door and his mind shifted away from the physical jolt he felt as he looked at her to the worry in her eyes.

I’ll help you. Danny was my closest friend. Whatever you need, I’ll help. Come on. Let’s go into the conference room and you can tell me what’s going on.” When her gaze shot back to the door, his senses went on alert.

I didn’t mean I needed your help later,” Jessie said nervously. “I meant I need your help right now.”

Gunshots exploded through the windows. “Get down!” Bran shouted to the other guys in the office as he shoved Jessie down behind his desk and covered her with his body. Glass shattered and a stream of bullets sprayed across the room.

Jaxon Ryker popped up, gun drawn, and ran for the door. Hawk Maddox and Lissa Blayne were shuffling through their desks, arming themselves. Jonas Wolfe drew his ankle gun and ran for the rear entrance, ready for any threat that might come from there.

Black SUV with tinted windows,” Ryker reported. Six feet of solid muscle, dark hair and eyes, Jax was a former Navy SEAL, currently a PI and occasional bounty hunter. “Couldn’t get a plate number.” Jax’s gaze swung to the front of the room. “Mindy, you okay?”

The little receptionist eased up from beneath her desk. “I-I’m okay. Should I call the police?” Around here, it was never good to jump to conclusions.

Bran hauled Jessie to her feet. He could feel her trembling. Her eyes looked even bigger and greener than they had before. “Are they coming back?” he asked.

I-I don’t know. It could have just been a warning.”

Bran turned to Mindy. “Unless someone’s already phoned it in, let’s wait to call the cops till we know what’s going on.” His attention returned to Jessie. “We need to talk.”

She just nodded. Her face had gone pale, making a fine line of freckles stand out across her forehead and the bridge of her nose.

Bran took her arm and urged her toward the conference room. “Keep a sharp eye,” he said to The Max crew. “Just in case.”

Jessie sank unsteadily down in one of the rolling chairs around the long oak conference table. The man she had come to see, Brandon Garrett, sat down beside her.

Okay, let’s hear it,” he said. “What’s going on?”

She thought of the men who had just shot up his office and her pulse started thumping again. “Danny said if I ever needed help–“

Yeah, I get that. Your brother knew he could count on me. Like I said, I’ll help you any way I can, but I need to know what’s going on.”

Bran was taller than Danny, around six-three, with a soldier’s lean, hard body, vee-shaped, with broad shoulders and narrow hips. Powerful biceps bulged beneath the sleeve of his dark blue T-shirt. With his slightly too-long mink brown hair, straight nose and masculine features, he was ridiculously handsome, except for the hard line of his jaw and the darkness in his eyes that contrasted sharply with their beautiful shade of cobalt blue.

Start at the beginning,” he demanded.

Since she wasn’t sure exactly where to begin, Jessie dragged in a shaky breath and slowly released it.

I’m here because of my father–Colonel James Kegan, Commander U.S. Army Alamo Chemical Depot. Just before he died a little over two months ago, my father was removed from active duty. He was charged with larceny–specifically the theft of chemical weapons stored at the Depot. Because the Army believed he was selling the weapons to a foreign entity, he was also charged with espionage and treason. I need you to help me prove his innocence.”

About the Author

New York Times bestselling author Kat Martin is a graduate of the University of California at Santa Barbara where she majored in Anthropology and also studied History. Currently residing in Missoula, Montana with her Western-author husband, L. J. Martin, Kat has written sixty-five Historical and Contemporary Romantic Suspense novels. More than sixteen million copies of her books are in print and she has been published in twenty foreign countries. Kat is currently at work on her next Romantic Suspense.

Contact Links

Website

Facebook

Twitter

Goodreads

Instagram

Giveaway

a Rafflecopter giveaway

RABT Book Tours & PR

Release Blitz: Bonded + Excerpt

BONDED

Book Title: Bonded (Latent Series Book 2)

Author: Alana Timms

Publisher: Self-published

Cover Artist: Resplendent Media

Release Date:  December 11, 2020

Genre/s: Paranormal M/M Romance, LGBT Action & Adventure

Trope/s: Fated mates, alpha/omega, rivals-to-lovers, hurt/comfort

Themes: Redemption, overcoming obstacles

Length: 174 pages

Heat Rating:  5 flames    

It is book 2 in the Latent Series.

Goodreads

 

Buy Links – Available on Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |   Amazon UK  

 

They’re bond-mates. They’re rivals.

Only one of them can take the prize…may the best wolf win.

 

Blurb

They’re bond-mates. They’re rivals. Only one of them can take the prize…may the best wolf win.

Alpha Zach Logan is taking part in the Top Dog survival challenge to secure his billion-dollar inheritance. The odds are in his favor. He has awakened his latent wolf, becoming the first verified shifter in over a century; no way can he lose. But his biggest rival is also his bond-mate, the omega he’s destined to spend the rest of his life with. Can Zach keep their conflict from spilling over into the bedroom?

Omega Sebastian Gage came to the Island to win. That trophy is his, and he will fight anyone for it. Yes, including his bond-mate, who is smart and generous and doesn’t deserve to lose. But them’s the breaks, because Sebastian needs this win to free himself from unjust suppressed shifter laws that limit omega rights.  

The Island isn’t a tame playground, however, and not every competitor plays fair. Will the deadly game tear Zach and Sebastian’s fragile bond apart, or will love come out on top?

  

Bonded is Book 2 of the steamy paranormal m/m romance series Latent. If you like high stakes, sizzling chemistry and fiercely protective shifters, you’ll love Alana Timms’s wild adventure. 

Bonded is best read after Fever, Book 1 of the Latent series. Unresolved plot elements make this story’s strong HFN ending a cliffhanger. Themes include hurt/comfort, pack dynamics, fated mates and rivals-to-lovers. Bonded contains adult material and is not intended for audiences under 18. Includes steamy scenes, strong language, violence and minor character death.

 

Excerpt 

Outside on the deck, Sebastian set the table with a crisp white table cloth, glasses, and silverware. Table for two under a waxing moon. He lit a couple of candles, placing each in a candle lantern.

Too much? Kill the candles?

Too late; Zach came into sight carrying his backpack and shopping bags. He swept his gaze over Sebastian. Then looked him over again, slower, eating him up. Sebastian shivered; he couldn’t hold the ocean breeze responsible for it. Not when his pulse raced as well. Zach dumped the bags, and prowled onto the deck. He fucking prowled, telegraphing his X-rated thoughts through a subtle change in his scent and the fierce intent in his darkened gaze.  

“You look good,” said Zach. 

His voice was laced with gravel; a near-growl that pitched Sebastian into full-blown lust. His stiffening dick pushed at the front panel of his kilt. His hole clenched hard around the butt-plug, wild for the real thing. 

“Thanks?” Sebastian heard it, the uncertainty as though he were asking a question. He injected more authority into his voice. “You too. I like the haircut.”

Zach smiled. His dimples told a lie. Cute, they said, adorable. 

Yeah, same way a tiger was adorable. Zach’s aura pulsated with barely leashed power. Raw and intoxicating, it put a dent in Sebastian’s authority. He hated this shift in their dynamics. But he loved how hot Zach made him feel.

“You’ve been busy,” said Zach, stopping within kissing distance.

So why weren’t they doing that, kissing? He couldn’t think of a good reason why Zach’s tongue wasn’t in his mouth. “Busy? You mean the table?”

“I mean busy claiming points for nailing my ass.”

He was supposed to feel guilty, but that was difficult to do given the memory of him fucking Zach through the jungle floor. “Oh, that.”

“Yeah, we’re not doing that anymore.” 

A flare of panic. “What, nailing your ass?”

“Sex points.” Zach grabbed his hips and walked him backwards across the deck until his back hit the wall. “We’re not claiming points for sex anymore, Sebastian.”

Wedged between a wall and a hard Zach, staying on topic was becoming a real problem. He curled his hands on Zach’s shoulders, his fingers twitching as a tide of sensation swept through him from Zach.

“It’s the rules, Zach. We have to put in claims for all transactions.”

A muscle ticked in Zach’s jaw. He exhaled with force. “Apart from intimate ones, those are ours. They’re between me and you. Not between you, me, and the Auditors.”

Intimate was exactly it. A tide of intimacy flowing between them. He’d swear it was the bond creating new pathways, opening them up to each other. He bent his head a little to line his mouth up with Zach’s. 

Zach kissed him softly, taking such infinite care that Sebastian lost his breath. 

“How much for that, Seb? Ten points, a hundred? How about this?” Zach asked, and kissed him again. 

No softness this time. Zach took what he wanted with the demanding sweep of his tongue. Sebastian let him in on a throaty moan, basking in pleasure. And sighing in frustration when Zach pulled back.

“Answer me. How many points?” 

He tipped his head back to rest it against the wall, all kinds of turned on by Zach’s commanding tone. “I get it, all right? Points are stupid. But can we just play the game like it’s supposed to be played? Please?”

“It’s none of their business what goes on between us, Seb.”

He recognized stubborn when he saw it. Zach wouldn’t budge on this. But neither would he, because he wasn’t about to risk getting fined for flouting the rules. 

“A foot race,” he said. “I win, we forget this conversation ever happened. You win, we quit claiming sex points.” 

Zach cocked his head. “You’re challenging me?”

“Yes, I am.”

Zach’s eyes flashed, his smile wolfish. “Challenge accepted.”

His own wolf stirred at the flashing eyes: tread carefully. But there was no risk involved here, was there? He could break free of Zach’s grip on his hips any time he wanted. 

What he wanted were more kisses.

 

About the Author

Alana is an avid fan of romance novels, mostly reading m/m romance. Drawn to growly alphas and their feisty omegas, she set out to write her debut paranormal m/m romance trilogy, Latent. Alana loves to write flawed characters and works at giving them complexity. Their paths to happiness may not be smooth, but they always get there in the end! When she’s not reading or writing, Alana enjoys hiking in the forests and beaches near her home on the east coast of England.

 

Social Media Links

Facebook  |   Instagram   |  Newsletter Sign-up

 

 

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions

Follow the tour and check out the other blog posts here