Book Blitz & Excerpt: All Hell + Giveaway

All Hell by Katy Hunter

Book 3 in the Half Blood series

General Release Date: 7th June 2022

Word Count: 15,059
Book Length: NOVELLA
Pages: 64

Genres:

ANGELS AND DEMONS
BONDAGE AND BDSM
CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
MÉNAGE AND MULTIPLE PARTNERS
PARANORMAL
REVERSE HAREM

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Book Description

When all hell breaks loose, you call in the angel…

Cal, Travis, Max and new-guy Suriel are on the case. The paranormal convention is in town, and they are the star attraction.

But under the surface, tensions are bubbling. Max feels pushed out, Travis is dealing with a horny little problem and Suriel is in love.

Plus, there’s the little issue of Cal’s evil nemesis trying to take over the depths of Hell, one demon at a time.

Can Cal find harmony in her harem while once again saving the world?

It’s going to be a devil of a job…

Excerpt

The future had been on my mind recently. Right now, for example, unbeknownst to me, imminent death was what fate had planned—and not for the first time today.

“Just tell us where you hid the damn gold.”

I slammed my hands down onto the rickety old wooden desk and peered into his devious little green eyes.

“Fuck you. And fuck your boyband, too,” cackled the little green asshole. “I’ll see you in Hell.”

“Not if I see you f—” The spray hit me in the back of my mouth as I shouted my reply. At first it tickled, almost like a feather or a fluttering butterfly, then bam, my throat seized up. I uttered a mumbled ‘crap’ and fell to the ground. Again.

Damn it. How many hidden poison sprays did one leprechaun have?

I imagine Suriel stepped in to do his magic, because before I knew it, I was staring into his piercing blue eyes as he loomed over me, his mouth on mine, his tongue removing the last of the poison…very, very slowly.

I peered over his curls to see two very pissed off boyfriends. This was the second time that Suriel had needed to give me the literal kiss of life today, and they were not amused. Not least because, as they probably suspected—something I knew to be true—that no tongues or even bodily contact was needed for him to do his thing. A click of his fingers and I would be back in the world of the living. Such was the strength of this devilishly cheeky angel.

“Suriel…” I said into his mouth, making him jump away. “I think I’m good, thank you.” I sat up and looked at Connor, the aforementioned leprechaun. Time to get back to work.

“I’ll take it from here,” said Travis, my delicious demon and crime-solving partner. He rolled up his sleeves and revealed his very impressive biceps. The man only had to look at a bench-press for them to grow another inch wider, much to Max’s chagrin.

My lady parts did a little flutter of admiration. Those deliciously ginormous arms. Sigh. I don’t know if it was due to the life-threatening situations we’d been through over the last couple of years or the fact that we were all going through some stuff at the moment, but I was in love with my boyfriends, like deeply, deeply in love with them.

I couldn’t be in a room alone with any one of them without wanting to just rip their clothes off and ravage them then and there. But this wasn’t the time or the place, and damn it, we really needed to find that gold.

“I’m fine,” I replied, trying to stand up then falling down when everything went a bit pear-shaped.

“Clearly not,” said Max. He helped me to my feet, stuck an arm around my waist and escorted me, rather brusquely, from our makeshift interrogation room. “Travis will get it out of him. He always does.”

I peered over my shoulder to see Travis holding Connor up by the tip of his beard. Maybe Max had a point.

I turned to Max and grinned at him suggestively.

“Really, Cal? You just died…twice. You’re not even a little tired?”

I shook my head and played with the buttons on his shirt. “Is it my fault that I’m in love with the most handsome warlock on the planet? No. It’s your fault for existing.”

He rolled his eyes and feigned exhaustion. “It’s possible to have too much of a good thing, you know?” Then he opened a door, checked to see what was in the room then whisked us both in, throwing me up against the wall and slamming the door behind us. “A quickie—and I’m in charge,” he said before gripping my hair, yanking my head back and smacking his lips onto mine. Oh, bless him. As if he were ever going to be in charge.

He pulled away and snarled a little in delight. His eyes darkened and a sparkle of magic twinkled in them as my G-string tightened around my pussy before slowly gliding down my inner thigh and dropping to my ankles.

He spun me around, pinning me just a little too hard against the cold brick wall. Unzipping himself, he pushed his cock between my butt cheeks and thrust it against my pussy.

He slid his fingers up my back, glided them around my body and grabbed onto my nipples, pulling and flicking them until they hardened to his touch.

Mmm-m…heavenly.

We knew each other’s turn-ons, each other’s erogenous zones, completely. I didn’t think I could love this man more.

He sank his lips down onto my neck and bit me, making my head jerk up. Max and I had been playing with pain for a while, pushing each other, going a little too far. My endless desire for him gave us all the time in the world to experiment. Our carnal knowledge of each other expanded with every slap-filled, nibble-induced orgasm.

He traced his fingers slowly up to my wrists then lifted my hands above my head and thrust himself inside me. There was never a need for fussing with condoms and lube when Max was around. He’d worked out how to magically cover his ass—or his dick, in this case—a long time ago. Nobody was getting pregnant on his watch.

I gasped as he plunged into me harder and harder, pummeling into me. There might not be anybody in this room, but someone walking down this corridor would have no doubts as to what was going on in here. I was most definitely getting the banging I’d desired.

He got off on PDA, but I preferred to keep it in the bedroom. My father—as my mother loves to remind me—was a bit of a prude. Mum, on the other hand, coming from a magical family, had no such qualms. Sex, when you’re a witch or a warlock, involves no shame, no judgment. I like to think I inherited a bit of both worlds.

Max let out a gasp. I recognized what it meant. It was his ‘I’m about to come’ sound.

He knew damn well that I needed clitoral stimulation. It wasn’t our first rodeo. He hadn’t even grazed my clit, and this was going way too fast for my liking.

So much for being in sync sexually.

“Max,” I cried out, between gasps. “Touch me!”

He giggled in my ear. “First she wants to be fucked. Now she wants to come, too?” He slowed his rhythm but didn’t make any move toward my clit. “And what if I don’t want to make you come?”

The fight for dominance in our relationship was endless. Max liked to think he was the commanding force between the two of us. Unfortunately, I quite liked to believe that I was the commanding force, too.

I twisted my hands around, grabbed his wrists, thrust back my hips hard enough to make him withdraw, swung myself around and threw him onto the floor with me sitting astride him. “I don’t come, you don’t come,” I said as I sank down onto his dick.

He laughed and pulled his wrists from my grip, putting his hands behind his head and enjoying the ride. “I thought you said I could be in charge.”

“I said no such thing,” I replied as I twirled my pussy against the very base of his cock, rubbing my clit against him and bringing myself to fruition all by myself.

I slowed down as the waves of pleasure coursed through my body, and he sped up underneath me, bouncing me up and down, groaning with pleasure as he brought himself to conclusion.

I flopped down onto him as he lay prostrate on the dusty floor. “Are we fucking or fighting? I can’t quite tell.”

“Both? Neither?” His smile waned. “If you’d just let me dominate you, I wouldn’t have to seek it elsewhere.”

“And where would the fun be in that?” I sat back on my knees and heaved myself up, searching for my underwear. I turned to look down at him. “You’re happy, right? You’d tell me if something was wrong?” He liked our little power struggle, didn’t he? Wasn’t that what it was all about? It had always been like that. Sometimes I held the whip, sometimes he brought out the nipple clamps. He got his need for submissives elsewhere, and that had always been the case. It was what he did—what he’d always done.

Making love to Max was harder than a work-out. The constant play-fighting was what made it different, special. It was what made it ours.

“It’s nothing. I’m being silly. Don’t listen to me,” he said, with a touch of remorse. I gave him a hand and pulled him to his feet. He leaned down and kissed me on the nose. “I love you. I’m sorry. It was great, and I ruined it.”

“Forgiven,” I replied instead of pushing it further. I should have done it. I should have said something then and there.

Before it was too late.

Before I’d almost lost him for good.

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About the Author

Katherine E Hunt

Katy Hunter lives on a mountain in France with her husband, kids and two dogs.

When she’s not writing you can find her curled up in front of the fire, book in one hand and a glass of chardonnay in the other.

Follow Katy on Instagram and sign up to her Facebook reader’s group. You can also find her on Facebook and follow her on Twitter

Giveaway

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March 12, 2022

Book Blitz & Excerpt: Cold Blood + Giveaway

Cold Blood by T. Strange

Book 2 in the Bound to the Spirits series

General Release Date: 8th March 2022

Word Count: 86,043
Book Length: SUPER NOVEL
Pages: 350

GENRES:

BONDAGE AND BDSM
CONTEMPORARY
CRIME
EROTIC ROMANCE
GAY
GLBTQI
PARANORMAL
THRILLERS AND SUSPENSE

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Book Description

Ghost wards are failing. Mediums are vanishing. Someone—or something—is stirringup the ghosts of Toronto. It’s up to psychic medium Harlan Brand to find out why.

After defeating a serial killer who could control ghosts, psychic medium Harlan Brand is feeling much more confident in his abilities working for the Toronto Police Service with his partner, Hamilton, as they protect the city from dangerous spirits.

He is expanding his social circle, however reluctantly, to include the other police mediums and Morgan Vermeer, another graduate from the Centre—a school for training psychic children.

Harlan and his boyfriend, Charles Moore, are continuing to explore BDSM, their relationship and Charles’ strange ability to shield people from ghosts.

Hoping to find answers about Charles’ power and the serial killer, Harlan returns to the Centre only to find that one of its ghost wards—magical symbols that spirits can’t cross—is broken, and it’s a mystery as to how and why.

The calm and order that Harlan has been building up in his life are shattered when wards start failing across the city and mediums begin to disappear, including one of his new friends and a student from the Centre.

Someone—or something—is stirring up the ghosts of Toronto.

Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of violence and murder. It is best read as part of a series.

Excerpt

Hamilton sighed as he lowered himself into the driver’s seat of their police cruiser, settling in much more heavily than usual. “Matthew wants to meet you.”

Harlan was relieved that he was already struggling with his seatbelt. It gave him a moment to think about what Hamilton had just said.

Matthew? Do I know a Matthew? Hamilton’s—and, by extension, Harlan’s—sergeant was named Matthews, but Harlan had already met her.

The seatbelt clicked into place. He was out of time.

Hamilton sighed again, this time with an edge of laughter. “Matthew is my…” He mumbled something Harlan couldn’t make out. “You haven’t met him,” he added in his regular speaking voice.

Harlan waited, hoping Hamilton would elaborate, repeat himself or that the words would finally click into place as he ran them over and over in his mind.

Silence. Silence that he had to break if he was going to get anything else.

“Sorry… I didn’t quite—”

“Boyfriend!” Too loud this time, loud and sudden enough that it startled Harlan. “Matthew is my boyfriend. He wants to meet you.” Hamilton slid his gaze over to Harlan, a sly smile on his thin lips. “You can say no,” he added, making it clear he would prefer that.

Harlan would prefer that as well, so it worked out nicely.

Before Harlan could assure him that he was, of course, in complete agreement, Hamilton shook his head and sighed for a third time that morning. “Nah, I think we’re past that. At this point, it would just be a delaying tactic. He’s made up his mind.”

Harlan glanced sideways at Hamilton. Is Hamilton actually blushing? He hadn’t thought Hamilton was physically capable of doing that, never mind imagined that it might actually happen.

“And I’ve met your boyfriend,” Hamilton shot back, even though Harlan hadn’t spoken.

Technically true, but they hadn’t exactly met over dinner or another social event. Did life-and-death situations count more or less than sitting down for a meal together?

“And, by the way”—the blush Harlan had probably imagined was gone, and Hamilton was definitely smirking now—”I knew I recognized him from somewhere.”

Shit. Harlan had been dreading this conversation, hoping it wouldn’t happen. He’d hoped that Hamilton wouldn’t connect Charles, Harlan’s ghost-repelling boyfriend, to Mr. Moore, owner of Rattling Chains, a formerly haunted BDSM club. Apparently, that had been too much to ask for.

Hamilton opened his mouth, started to say something then seemed to reconsider when he saw Harlan’s pained expression. “I’m glad you’ve got someone,” he said, just as gruffly as usual, but with a hint of genuine fondness and even warmth. “You don’t have a lot of people.” He looked away while he took a left-hand turn, then laughed. “Of course you’d meet someone on the job.”

Harlan looked down at his lap. Yeah. It was pretty pathetic. Sure, he’d started going to the occasional police-medium group—basically a coffee klatch, not everyone sitting in a circle sharing their feelings the way he’d been dreading—but that was still connected to the police. He hadn’t even realized that Charles had the same connection. Fuck. Somehow, without realizing it, he’d become one of those adults who only lived for his job.

He blinked. Maybe it isn’t just me.

“What does Matthew do?” he asked, fully expecting he already knew the answer.

He was wrong.

“He’s an advertising consultant.” Hamilton shrugged. “I don’t know what that means, either.” He paused, then added, as though he’d read Harlan’s mind—more likely his expression—“I did meet him through a case, though.”

Harlan wasn’t sure if that made him feel better or worse. He didn’t know exactly how old Hamilton was, but he guessed his police partner was at least a few years older than he was. Was that what he had to look forward to—all his personal connections coming from his work for the rest of his life? He wasn’t sure why it bothered him, but it did. Maybe it was like that for everyone, and he just didn’t know—not that there was anyone he could ask.

Maybe Charles… He’d met a few of Charles’ friends, more or less in passing. He certainly hadn’t sat down and had dinner with any of them, the way Hamilton seemed to be proposing that he do with Matthew. He’d always assumed it was because he and Charles were still fairly new as a couple and—knowing Harlan—Charles hadn’t wanted to overwhelm him with a bunch of people all at once—but maybe he’d been wrong. Maybe he just didn’t want to introduce Harlan to anyone else in his life.

Knowing he was starting to spiral, he was relieved when Hamilton continued.

“I told him you don’t do phone calls and you wouldn’t want to text someone you don’t know”—Wow, Hamilton really will make a great detective one day—“so you can just let me know when you decide. Here.” He fished a piece of paper out of his breast pocket and handed it to Harlan. “This is Matthew’s number so you can give it to Charles. He’s invited too, if he’d like.” His smirk was back. “I think he still has a choice, unlike you.”

“Where are we going today?” Normally Hamilton didn’t tell him, and he didn’t ask, but it was the only change of topic Harlan could think of. “Is it another one of Samuel’s ghosts?” Killing the warped medium and serial killer Samuel Harkness had released most of the spirits under his control, but even eight months later they were still finding stragglers, like the ones that had led Harlan to their killer in the first place.

Interestingly, Harlan and Hamilton had found—and freed—almost three times as many wanderers as the other three medium pairs put together. It was as if even though he’d never met them, these spirits felt a connection to him for killing the man who had been controlling them.

This part of the job was a lot less glamorous when the ghosts they worked with weren’t leading him to a serial killer.

“Kid,” Hamilton had laughed after a sweaty, dusty and frustrated Harlan had snapped something along those lines after a very long, hot day crammed in the crawlspace of an old house, trying to coax an especially nervous ghost close enough for him to either grab or calm it down enough for it to cross over on its own, “that’s the job. It’s not bringing down bad guys and epic showdowns. It’s…this. Hey, you’ve got a cobweb on your face.”

Harlan couldn’t help feeling that he’d peaked too soon, experienced more police-medium excitement than most of his colleagues got in a lifetime.

Crucially, he’d survived. Most police mediums didn’t live long enough to retire.

He still liked his job and found it fulfilling, rewarding and blah blah, but he couldn’t help feeling a little…let down. Restless, maybe. Not that he wanted to face anything like Samuel ever again! But…something. Something more than finding ghost, freeing ghost, next. Day in, day out, week after week. Just a little.

“Nah. Well—not as far as I know,” Hamilton amended. “Though apparently this is kinda a weird one.”

Harlan couldn’t help brightening, sitting forward in his seat a little. In light of what he’d been thinking, ‘weird’ was good. “Really?”

“Yeah, yeah, keep it in your pants.” Hamilton laughed.

“You gonna tell me or is it gonna be a surprise?” Even a few months ago Harlan wouldn’t have dared ask for information about the scene they were going to, and he certainly wouldn’t have expected an answer.

Now, it was almost like a game between the two of them—if Harlan really wanted to know, Hamilton would tell him, and if Hamilton really wanted to keep him in the dark until they got there—and Harlan was beginning to think that, sometimes at least, walking in without any preconceptions was helpful—he wouldn’t. And, occasionally, Hamilton himself knew very little or nothing about the haunting situation. Harlan was starting to suspect that was one of the reasons Hamilton hadn’t filled Harlan in ahead of time in the past. Hamilton didn’t like admitting when he didn’t know something.

“Mmm, this time I think I’ll let you see for yourself. Besides, we’re almost there.” Hamilton pulled up beside a record store, one of those hipster places that had been popping up in the most gentrified parts of the city. He got out, coming around the other side of the car and opening Harlan’s door when he didn’t get out immediately.

Harlan stepped onto the sidewalk to take a better look around. Hauntings—the ones not related to violent crime, which he doubted was the case here—tended to be in residential buildings. People died where they lived, not where they bought vinyl.

He glanced across the street—more shops, and they didn’t look like they had apartments over them. Neither did the record store or the others around it.

“There’s a haunting here?”

“I can double-check the address if you’d like,” Hamilton offered, smirking a little.

“No. That’s fine.” As far as Harlan knew, Hamilton had never got an address wrong.

Maybe the dispatcher had been wrong?

A young white man stepped out of the shop, waving at them. “Are you with the Graveyard Crew?”

It was a nickname for Toronto police mediums that Harlan didn’t really like—and, by the look on Hamilton’s face, he didn’t care for it either.

Hamilton pointedly glanced down at his uniform and badge. “We’re with the police.”

“Oh, good! C’mon in. We’ve been expecting you.” He turned and disappeared into the shop.

Harlan shot Hamilton a questioning glance.

Hamilton shrugged one shoulder, extending a hand to say after you.

He was suddenly hit by a barrage of noise—apparently the door was surprisingly soundproof. Harlan always thought the music in these types of places sounded bad, but this was bad.

Hamilton, never one to fuck around, headed straight to the man who’d welcomed them. “Can you turn the music down? Or off, maybe?” He had to raise his voice to be heard over the din.

The man shook his head. “No! That’s the problem.” He didn’t have Hamilton’s loud ‘cop voice’ and he was practically screaming.

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First For Romance

About the Author

T. Strange

T. Strange didn’t want to learn how to read, but literacy prevailed and she hasn’t stopped reading—or writing—since. She’s been published since 2013, and she writes M/M romance in multiple genres, including paranormal and BDSM. T.’s other interests include cross stitching, gardening, watching terrible horror movies, playing video games, and finding injured pigeons to rescue. Originally from White Rock, BC, she lives on the Canadian prairies, where she shares her home with her wife, cats, guinea pigs and other creatures of all shapes and sizes. She’s very easy to bribe with free food and drinks—especially wine.

Find T. Strange on Instagram.

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Enter for the chance to win a $50.00 First for Romance Gift Card! Competition hosted by Totally Entwined Group.

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December 29, 2021December 27, 2021

Book Blitz & Excerpt: Fallen Angel + Giveaway

Fallen Angel by Katy Hunter

Book 2 in the Half Blood series

General Release Date: 28th December 2021

Word Count: 17,268
Book Length: NOVELLA
Pages: 83
Heat Rating: Sizzling

Genres:

ANGELS AND DEMONS
BONDAGE AND BDSM
CONTEMPORARY
EROTIC ROMANCE
MÉNAGE AND MULTIPLE PARTNERS
PARANORMAL

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Book Description

We all have our demons, but some women have a warlock and an angel too…

Cal’s really not having a good day.

She convinced her lovers, Travis and Max, to leave their safe house in Montana and fly over to Budapest to save someone, but it was a trap.

And her relationships haven’t exactly been harmonious since Max found a new lover and Travis got a little too hot and heavy in the bedroom.

Now she’s tied up, she’s only got a handsome, weakened angel for company and she needs all her energy to defeat Seth Shaw once again.

Can Cal summon her lovers, escape from her binds and fix her love life before she comes face to face with her nemesis—or has this angel fallen for good?

Reader advisory: This book contains scenes of violence.

Excerpt

I squirmed as Max traced the feather across my chest, brushing it between my trussed-up breasts and down to my crotch. He stopped short of my pubic area, apparently deciding instead to skip the interesting bit and trail it up my inner thigh instead.

Cheeky bastard.

I couldn’t see it, my head down, my hands bound, but he had to have that satisfied smirk on his face—the one that said he was in charge.

Damn it and him. I hated it, but I loved it too—playing, teasing, longing. It was what kept our love life from tipping over into domestic boredom. I knew that. I knew why we’d set up the damn swing in the first place.

It’d be worth it. Of course it would. The man was a maestro. But, God, the frustration was killing me. I needed to come.

I closed my eyes, concentrated hard on Max’s body and zeroed in on his dick, already hard and ready for me. I swirled my tongue around my mouth, opened my lips…

“What the fu…Cal? When did you learn to do that?”

“I’ve been practicing,” I replied, losing my concentration for a second.

“Well, stop. It’s weird. Hot, but weird. Damn.”

I let out a throaty giggle. “Stop teasing me then.”

“That’s half the fun,” he murmured, slowing it right down.

I inhaled, taking in as much of him as my astrally projected mouth could manage.

“Okay, okay. Damn, you’re going to make me come, and I haven’t even started yet.”

The crank clicked, tick, tick, tick, as he lowered me down to his level. The feather gone, and I felt the soft touch of his favorite flogger circling my butt.

“Spanking?”

“Well, you don’t seem to want to behave today.”

A shot of adrenaline ran up my body simply at the idea of it. It wouldn’t hurt, not hurt hurt.

Max had gone soft since the three of us had moved there and fallen more in love. The days of using my safeword were gone. Ever since the incident where Travis and I had nearly died, Max had become wary of our pain. It no longer brought him joy—not in that way.

He gripped my thigh with one hand, swung my prostate body toward him and rested just the very tip of his cock against my core. The warm sensation of his tongue swirled around my clit.

“How…?”

He paused. “Two can play at your game,” he whispered, licking his lips and getting back to what he was best at.

Slowly, sweetly, he sucked and nibbled at me, entering me as I warmed for him. The ends of the flogger brushed across my butt as he filled me. Tickling… Caressing…

I let out a gasp as he thrust into me, propelling me forward, only to swing me back onto him. The flogger slapped down onto my cheek, the sting bursting through my body. “Yes!”

“Quiet,” he whispered once again, the individual strands of leather tracing their way up my spine.

I writhed underneath him, fighting against the restraints at my wrists, desperate to touch him, to feel his hard, smooth body as he pummeled into me, bringing me closer and closer.

“Please,” I begged, desperate for release. Once again, the sensation of his tongue hit my clit…frenzied, slapdash.

My ass cheeks stung as he thwacked them once again—one side, then the other, then the first again. I threw my head back and came on his cock as he filled me, clenching tightly as I trembled and shook beneath him.

“Fuck, Cal.” The flogger clattered to the ground as he grasped the chains, holding me to him, his legs giving way. I would never tire of the thrill of bringing this strong, confident man to his knees.

Buy Links

Choose Your Store
First For Romance

About the Author

Katherine E Hunt

Katy Hunter lives on a mountain in France with her husband, kids and two dogs.

When she’s not writing you can find her curled up in front of the fire, book in one hand and a glass of chardonnay in the other.

Follow Katy on Instagram and sign up to her Facebook reader’s group. You can also find her on Facebook and follow her on Twitter

Giveaway

Enter for the chance to win a $50.00 First for Romance Gift Card! Competition hosted by Totally Entwined Group.

a Rafflecopter giveaway