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Book Blitz & Excerpt: Thunderstruck + Giveaway

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Thunderstruck
by Wren Michaels
(The Thunderbird Brotherhood, #1)
Publication date: March 10th 2022
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance

Reseda Juarez is dead. Though she functions as a human, inside she’s an emotionless weapon, trapped between the living and the undead. Cold and unrelenting, she’s used as a super-soldier by the government in a special task force to hunt preternatural beings to the brink of extinction.

One night, five years ago, Kane killed an innocent and his brother lost the love of his life. The aftermath forces Kane to become the alpha of the legendary Thunderbirds. He now must protect what’s left of his family from the tribe of wolf shifters who ripped them apart.

When Reseda’s mother is bitten by a wolf, she and Kane are forced to work together to find the Mayan Pul Yah stone to heal her—the same stone that gifted Reseda to the life she now lives. But the journey is riddled with more than wolves, also searching for the stone. Something strange happens to their powers when they’re together, and they struggle to fight the intense attraction between them. The deeper they go, the more secrets unravel, until love is the only thing that can defeat an enemy no one saw coming.

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EXCERPT:

Kane turned, thrusting his hands in the air. “I don’t even know who this Reseda is. How am I supposed to find her?”

“I’m sure I have a picture of her around here somewhere. But it’s quite old. She must be in her twenties by now.” Maquinna pressed the last of the herbs into the open wounds along Glenda’s arm and a phone slipped out of her apron pocket, crashing to the floor. The screen flashed with Reseda’s name.

“So, I’m just supposed to shout her name into the woods or something? I’ve got nothing to go on.” Kane stilled. Hair along his arms danced on an electric wave humming in the air around him. Closing his eyes, he inhaled a slow breath.

Adrenaline? No.

Sweat? No.

A scent he’d never encountered before, crisp and pure. Not fear, not heat, nor blood. Yet something distinctly feminine, clouded by wolf.

Kane shot out of the house in a blur. Following the scent, he kicked up speed as he dodged the enormous redwood trunks. The smell of rage and blood lust covered the faint scent of the female. The wolves had closed in on whoever it was. Triumphant howls rang out from the forest floor, and Kane zeroed in on the sounds.

Hair, long and dark as midnight, shone beneath the shimmer of moonlight as he caught sight of her. The same four wolves that he rescued Glenda from now chased this female, Castos out in front. She glanced over her shoulder, and for a moment Kane swore he caught a smile on her face before terror flickered in her eyes and she turned back around, increasing her sprint.

The thought disturbed and distracted him. He didn’t have time to transform into the Thunderbird as he caught up to one of the wolves. Continuing his chase, he stiffened his forearms and the edges of his tattoos lit up. A streak of lightning flashed from the ink, splitting the wolves’ path down the middle, singing the paws of two as they flipped over, rolling down the rim floor.

Castos glanced behind him. His yellow eyes pulsed blood-red as he released an ear-splitting howl catching sight of Kane. The wolf launched himself into the air, toppling the female to the ground. Kane leaped headfirst for the other wolf, barreling him to the Earth in a plume of dirt and pine needles. He gripped the creature by the head and twisted it in his hands, snapping its neck.

Castos walked around the female face down in the dirt, glaring at Kane from a distance. “You’ve now made yourself a true enemy, Kane. This was not your business.”

“What happens on my land is my business, Castos. Let the girl go.”

Castos howled with laughter. “You sound an awful lot like your father. Those same words got him killed.”

Rage boiled beneath Kane’s skin. Curling his fingers into his palm, the edges of his tattoos once again lit, brighter than before as he channeled everything into his powers. Something blurred to his right, and Kane snapped his focus to find the source of it. Castos released a whimpering growl as he flew through the air, soaring over Kane’s head, landing in a puff of dirt behind him on his back.

Kane whipped his head back to the girl. She stood facing him, bathed in moonlight, arms thrust forward ready to attack. The most intense and haunting blue eyes he’d ever seen flickered between the rays of light and darkness shadowing her face. Kane scrambled up from the ground to a stance, glancing back to where Castos landed, only to find him gone.

He turned back to the girl. “Are you hurt?”

“Are you?” She cocked her head, slanting a hip to the side.

He couldn’t tell if she was confused or teasing. “What kind of question is that?” Why would she ask if he was okay? He was the one saving her. Did she completely miss where he took out three of the four wolves?

“A valid one. I don’t know what happened to the other two, but I saw you tussling with Gage. He’s no easy match. That was Castos’ number one. So, again, are you hurt?” she asked.

“You’re on a first name basis with the wolves?” He sniffed the air around her, stepping closer. “You don’t smell like a wolf.”

“Chanel. It hides everything.” She circled in turn with his steps around her. “But no, of course I’m not a wolf. Thanks for the insult.”

He stifled a laugh. “Many pardons, ma’am.”

“Ma’am? Do I look that old?” Her lips fell into a pout. “It’s the moonlight, isn’t it? And the fact that I forgot to moisturize this morning.”

Kane cocked a brow. Who the hell was this girl making jokes moments after being savagely attacked by not only wolves, but the Alpha? She looked far from old. Dark hair that could rival the finest silk draped her shoulders, almost as long as his own. Olive skin that shone flawless under the light of the full moon was only put to shame by those stunning eyes.

Kane stepped back. “No. That’s not what I meant.”

“You hesitated. I do. I look old.” Her shoulders slumped as she folded her arms. “I’m too young to use night cream.”

Kane shook his head. “What the hell are you talking about? You just got jumped by a pack of wolves and you’re worried about wrinkles?”


Author Bio:

Wren hails from the frozen tundra of Wisconsin where beer and cheese are their own food groups. But a cowboy swept her off her feet and carried her to Texas, where she promptly lost all tolerance for cold and snow. Fueled by coffee, dreams, and men in kilts, Wren promises to bring you laughter, heart-fluttering romance, and action that keeps you on the edge of your seat.

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Book Blitz & Excerpt: Time Lies + Giveaway

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Time Lies
by Rowena Tisdale
Publication date: March 4th 2022
Genres: Adult, Romance, Time-Travel

She thinks he’s crazy, he thinks she’s a witch.
Of course, they fall in love.

Shannon Kellogg is a spoiled heiress. She’s shallow and self-centered, but after her third divorce, she vows to become a better person. Practicing kindness and empathy is her prescription for self-improvement.

As if on cue, a young man with a strange accent, dressed as a colonial cosplayer appears in her yard during a thunderstorm. He’s lost and confused, and something about him tugs at her heart. She sees an opportunity on her path to change, and decides to help him.

It turns out to be more of a challenge than she anticipated. Azariah Scott was unwillingly tossed through time and the only way to help him is to send him back to 1750. She doesn’t know how to honor her commitment to him; despite his belief she’s a witch, she doesn’t believe in magic.

As they work together to find a gateway to the past, love blossoms, and Shannon comes to regret her promise.

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EXCERPT:

He cried out, and jerked away from her outstretched hand, falling to the floor, cracking his head on the corner of the island. He went still.

“Well, damn,” she muttered, closing the door.

A puddle had formed where he’d been standing. Much to her relief, a glance down confirmed water, not blood, covered the floor. Barefoot, she stepped gingerly on the well-polished tiles.

Shannon squatted next to him, picking up his wrist and checking for a pulse. His eyes were closed, but his lips were moving. Unable to hear what he was saying, she leaned in, her nose crinkling with distaste as she got closer. Such a heavy costume in the hot weather required far more deodorant. Holding her breath, she put her ear near his mouth.

“I am cursed…”

Straightening, she pursed her lips. The whole situation was bizarre enough to be intriguing. She was curious about this strange man. What was his story? An actual interest in another was a bit foreign to her. A sign, no doubt, she was already becoming a better person.

Okay, but what did she do now? If she called the police, first, they would send someone to her house. It might be the same hot officer who had come a couple of months ago, and after assuring her no bobcat lurked in her backyard, had left a few hours later with more than a grateful “thank you.”

He’d come back once or twice, to play Criminal & Lady Cop, but she’d soon tired of him. Officer CuffMe was the last person she wanted to see when she had an unknown young man passed out in her kitchen. Awkward and uncomfortable at best, of questionable legality at worst.

Second, it would be straight to the psych ward if the police got involved. Probably the right call, but if he were whisked away, she’d never learn his story. Making up her mind, she strode decisively to the liquor cabinet. Bryce had kept an extensive, and expensive bar.

“Brandy, brandy, brandy,” she chanted as she skimmed the labels. She smiled as she wrapped her fingers around the neck of a bottle. She’d read enough romances with bare-chested sea captains on the cover to know when the heroine fainted dead away, the thing to revive her was a bit of eau-de-vie. Singing a Spanish song about brandy she opened her crystal cupboard.

How much?

The lines never said anything like, “He poured four ounces of cognac into an eight ounce snifter and lifted it to her trembling lips.” It couldn’t be much. The unfortunate lass was usually “spluttering and gagging at the first taste of the amber fluid.”

Settling next to the stranger on the floor, she assumed the Lotus position. He had stopped mumbling, but was still quite pale. She set the glass down, then shifted to her best approximation of “cradling his head in her lap,” and wondered how the mechanics of this worked.

She decided to check his pockets before reviving him. If she found his license, the mystery would be solved. His apparel was odd, she wasn’t sure where to look. A pat down revealed a muscular body but no phone or wallet in the expected places. There was a slight bulge over his chest. In the small pouch she pulled out, she found some old coins, and some paper which might be foreign currency, though she didn’t recognize it. There was also a large, intricate antique key. None of this was helpful. She slid the purse back into the concealed pocket.

Putting a hand on the back of his head, Shannon, surprised by the weight, carefully lifted it and angled him, as best she could, into a drinking posture. Then, she brought the glass to his mouth—

a very sensuous mouth—

and poured the tiniest bit of alcohol over his lips. She laughed when he actually spluttered.

His head jerked, and his eyes flew open. Shannon drew back her hand, brandy splashing over the rim. She dropped his head, which unfortunately did not land back in her lap, but thumped heavily to the floor. A grimace of pain crossed his face, and she felt a tinge of guilt.

He fixed her with a baleful stare.

“What do you want of me?” he asked.

Author Bio:

Rowena Tisdale was born and raised in Michigan, sort of all over the state. As an adult, she moved south to Texas, and after living there for a bit, headed east, eventually returning home to her beloved “Mitten State.” She now resides nearby her favorite city, Detroit, with her son and a pair of feline companions.

A reader of romance from an early age, she remains an avid fan of the genre. Over the years, she began to wonder why the feisty heroines she’s always loved haven’t aged with her. Her stories are about older women, because she knows romance is not solely the purview of youth. Whether a single mother in her 30s, a crone who makes goddesses smile, or a spoiled socialite in her 40s, Rowena writes female characters who have the beauty and confidence of experience. She writes across genres, romance, chick-lit, and women’s fiction, but all her novels are love stories.

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Spotlight & Excerpt: For the Murder + Giveaway

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For the Murder
by Gabrielle Ash
(The Murder, #1)
Published by: City Owl Press
Publication date: February 22nd 2022
Genres: Adult, Urban Fantasy

A lone crow is a dead crow.

That’s what Diana Van Doren, exiled crow shifter, has always believed. The last murder of crow shifters known to exist wouldn’t accept her into the flock, leaving her vulnerable. Worse, her kleptomaniacal father’s schemes put them in a demon’s crosshairs. Without the support of the murder, Diana fears death will come all too quickly. So when an opportunity to steal a rare blade that can kill anything—even demons—crosses their path, she decides to play her father’s games one last time.

However, she isn’t the only one hoping to take the blade. Sasha Sokolov, a clairvoyant, has been forced from childhood to serve the very demon hunting Diana and her family. After two decades of service, his boss finally offers him what he can’t refuse: freedom. All he has to do is bring in the knife and the Van Dorens, and his bloodline will be free from serving the demon forever.

When Diana and Sasha meet at the auction, they strike an uneasy alliance. Diana sees a way to finally be welcomed into the murder. Sasha sees an opportunity to get his freedom. To get what they want, only one of them can walk away with the blade. But when their magic inexplicably links as they reluctantly work together to steal the knife, betraying each other for their own ends may no longer be an option.

Goodreads / Amazon

Excerpt:

All crow shifters had the same eyes—dark brown, practically black. Unless the crow was old, anyway. Her father, despite all his mistakes, somehow still lived. His irises, once so dark they looked like caves, were now slate gray.
He leaned forward and propped his elbows on the old desk across from him. “But this knife can kill anything.”
Diana Van Doren narrowed her eyes at her father lounging in a decrepit chair. Charles couldn’t ignore shiny objects, especially expensive ones. But his crippling addiction aside, she didn’t much care to be used in his schemes to acquire them either. “Most knives can.”
“No.” Charles’s chest rose and fell in a steady, quiet wave. His salt-and-pepper hair had been swept back in an arc, which made the collar of his thick coat seem impossibly tall. Charles Van Doren was important, damn it, and everyone around ought to know. “It can kill…anything.”
It took longer than she liked to admit, but when her father’s true meaning sank in, it rendered her immobile.
“You’re joking.” The words left her mouth in a whisper so faint she almost doubted she spoke at all. Had her father actually located something with use beyond lining his pockets? “There’s no way. No such thing exists.”
“It does, and I found it. Forged in the fires of Hell. Very old and very powerful.”
The chill that raked over her arms had nothing to do with the breeze flitting past the broken glass in the window frame and into the room. A knife that could kill any sentient being? If they got a hold of something like that, then all their problems would be solved.
“Where did you find it?” Diana dared ask. The shallow ceiling seemed to creep closer with every breath as the possibilities seeped into the wrinkles of her brain. She could be safe. Finally.
“Dallas,” her mother, Amelia, spoke up from her place on the wall before taking a few strides toward her husband.
Diana had often wondered why her mother tolerated her father all these years, but she supposed Amelia had no choice. Magic made murders. Once a crow shifter was bound to a murder, they were always bound to that murder. Being kicked out of the flock didn’t change that. Her mother had once described the separation from the rest of the crows as carving out half her heart and leaving it behind in a field. Diana figured staying with Charles was a way to assuage the pain.
When she said nothing, Amelia cleared her throat. “The knife is being auctioned.”
Dallas. A couple hours by car, but shorter by air. She’d be able to get there quickly, but once she had the knife, it would be impossible to fly all the way back. She’d have to drive, which would keep her in the open longer.
A demonic knife that could kill anything. It would be going for thousands, if not millions, of dollars. Dollars they did not have.
Diana pulled the rest of her inky hair over her shoulder and started to braid it, an action done more out of a desire to busy her hands than a real need. “Auctioned?”
“Some anthropologist has it. He’s dying though, allegedly from cancer, and he wants the funds to pay for treatment.” Her father sighed and steepled his fingers as he leaned on the desk. Even though he no longer remained a leader in the murder’s assembly, his arrogant demeanor followed him. “He’s invited people in his immediate circle and work colleagues.”
Diana froze midbraid, her fingers stiff with irritation.
“We’ve…arranged for you to meet with someone on the list to gain admittance tomorrow night.” Amelia tucked a thick lock of hair behind her ear.
“I’m sure you have.” Annoyed, Diana finished her braid with a snort.
“All you’ve got to do is steal the knife and bring it back. Your mother and I wouldn’t survive the auction, or we’d go.” Charles’s voice, soft and pleading, rattled down her ear canals. Her father had always been a good liar. “We can fix this. All of it. We just need that knife.”

Author Bio:

Gabrielle Ash is an author and perpetually tired mom of four from the great state of Texas. Born into a family of mischievous storytellers, she grew up listening to tales of the chupacabra, ghosts, and other things that go bump in the night, never entirely confident that she wouldn’t get eaten if she went out to the creek after sunset.

She earned a Bachelor of Arts in English, which ultimately landed her in a high school classroom to teach writing and coach the debate team. Dismayed at her inability to wear sweatpants to work, she left the classroom and now dedicates her brain power to books and taking care of her daughters.

When not writing, she spends time with her husband, four daughters, and their dog. The Family Cross is her debut novel.

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