Book Blitz: Dilectio, by W.P. Woodbine

DELECTIO RDB BANNER

Title: Dilectio
Author: Winter Paige writing as W.P. Woodbine
Genre: Horror, Noir, Taboo
Cover Designer: Dark City Designs
Publication Date: June 18th, 2021
Hosted by: Lady Amber’s PR

Blurb:

Bound by depravity, sealed with blood, and severed only in death, Luke Greene’s bloodline continues to thrive in the Greene household. We live by our own set of rules without regret, knowing no earthly penance could ever atone for our transgressions. Our acts so vile that evil itself awaits each generation, etching its claim upon our souls at conception.

Know this: There is no hope found within these pages. No white horses or hand kisses. No light at the end of the tunnel, waiting with your feel-good, fade-to-black happily-ever-after. Our story will make most readers uncomfortable, but for the worthy few… This. Is. Home.

This is Dilectio…

 

Winter Paige is a budding author in the genre of dark romance.

Shattered Lies is her debut novel. Born in the Capital city of WV she enjoys reading, traveling, and producing audio books. She is obsessed with signed paperbacks. Winter lives with her husband, four children and a cat she despises … and is tormented daily by chickens.

 

Book Blitz & Excerpt: The Case of the Boy in Blue + Giveaway

the case of the boy in blue Banner-2

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: The Case of the Boy in Blue

Author: Amanda Meuwissen

Publisher: Amanda Meuwissen Books 

Cover Artist: Amanda Meuwissen

Release Date: February 14, 2021

Genre:  Noir M/M Romance

Trope/s:  Age gap, private investigator, noir, mystery & detective

Themes: Hidden agenda, revenge

Heat Rating: 3 flames    

Length: 33 pages

It is a standalone story.

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Buy Links – Available on Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |   Amazon UK

 

the case of the boy in blue

This kid was going to be trouble, I just knew it.

“Have a seat, Mr. Valentine. What can I do for you?”

 

Blurb

Leonard Quill, private investigator, never expected a case to walk through his door quite like this one, complete with murder, a frame job, blackmail, and powerful players, especially coming from a man with bright blue eyes behind his glasses, a crooked bow tie, and an impossible smile.

the case of the boy in blue

Excerpt 

Mr. Valentine—call me Westley—looks the part of bumbling fool, who’s too naïve to know he’s walked into the lion’s den even being near this neighborhood without packing some heat but turns out he has a few secrets even darker than mine. His old man is in the clink, doing time for killing his mother. Only Westley swears the real culprit is someone else and his father has been framed. 

Maybe that’s true, wouldn’t put much past this city, but if Westley is right about who’s behind the frame job, this isn’t a case I can take lightly. 

“Sorry, kid, but you think James Deckard is behind all this? He’s not the type of man you bring down legally.”

“I know that. That’s why I came to you. The cops laughed me out of the precinct.”

“I ain’t a hitman either,” I snarl, wondering if sweet and innocent was an act and this kid has it in him to get all murdery and scuffed up, so long as someone else does the killing. 

But those blue eyes go wide, and I know that if there is a darker side to him, it’s buried much deeper than trying to pull one over on me. “I don’t want a hitman, Mr. Quill. But I need someone willing to go the extra mile the cops turn their noses at. Someone who’ll take the risk to get real evidence and finally put this monster away. Even the worst of the worst for all the crooked cops in this town can’t cover up Deckard’s deeds if we have proof.”

An optimist. Great. 

Westley isn’t wholly off base though, with the right judge, the right amount of ammunition, but it would be life or death with my hide on the line to get it done. Usually, that’s par for the course, half the fun of the job is getting a little lost in the muck, but Deckard is the type to make you disappear real quiet like—to the outside world. You wouldn’t be gone right away; you’d stay breathing for weeks, screaming where no one could hear you. 

“You tell my secretary all this?” I ask, already knowing the answer given Roxanne’s response to the kid.

“Of course. She was sure you’d agreed. Please, Mr. Quill, won’t you help me?”

Damn this kid, and damn Roxanne too. She knows the stakes involved, but she has it out for Deckard’s business partner, Jeffrey Yacobian, who she’s suspected for a long while had a hand in her sister’s murder. This opens another avenue to investigate the scum of our city with me as the point man. 

Roxanne also knows I can’t say no. I promised her we’d catch Yacobian someday. Bringing down Deckard could pave the way for that and ease the potent grief of this kid in front of me who might be the last sunny disposition left in these dank streets. 

“The risks involved ain’t gonna come cheap. How much is all this worth to you?”

Westley looks me square in the eyes, that blushing virgin routine set aside as he sits up taller—maybe all that light was a clever mask after all. “Everything I have, Mr. Quill.”

“Leonard. You’re either turning over your life savings when this is over or paying for my funeral if it flops, so call me Leonard.” Might as well be on a first name basis considering we’re both gonna end up on ice. “Now let’s start at the beginning, and you tell me everything you know.”

 

About the Author 

Amanda Meuwissen is a bisexual author, with a primary focus on M/M romance. As author of the paranormal romance trilogy The Incubus Saga and several other titles with various publishers, Amanda regularly attends local comic conventions for fun and to meet with fans, where she will often be seen in costume as one of her favorite fictional characters. She lives in Minneapolis, Minnesota, with her husband, John, and their cat, Helga.

 

 

Author Links

Blog/Website  |  Facebook  |  Twitter

Instagram  |  Pinterest  |  Newsletter Sign-up

 

Giveaway

Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win a choice of ebook from the author’s backlist. 

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Spotlight & Excerpt: Shadow & Poison + Giveaway

Shadow and Poison

The Dark Guard, #1
by J.B. Curry
Genre: Paranormal Romance, hot paranormal noir
Publisher: Arcanic Media
Date of Publication: January 26 2021
ISBN: 978-1-7327900-2-5
ASIN: B08RLPVJGQ
Number of pages:472
Word Count: 112,000

When monsters stalk the darkness of Prohibition era Chicago, it takes a special kind of hero to kill them.

Private detective Mark Van Ryn’s supernatural power over shadow has made him an outcast his whole life. When a mutated creature starts eating Chicago’s gangsters from the inside out, Mark is the only man in the city who can hunt it down and destroy it. But a dangerous lady has a job for Mark too, one that might cost him more than his life.

Gifted perfumer Eliza Karlova needs a man. The most evil man Chicago’s got. And she needs Mark to find him for her. Because Eliza has a deadly power of her own and a family legacy she’s doomed to keep. But when forbidden passion flames up between Eliza and the angelically handsome detective, she has to decide between her destiny, and the man she loves.

War brews in the city as the Century of Progress World’s Fair draws near, and Mark and Eliza must find a way to trust each other if their love, and Chicago, are to survive.

Gritty and gripping, powerful and sexy, Shadow and Poison will have your heart racing with each kill and every searing kiss. ~ Max Watson, author of Chains of Nurture

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Shadow and Poison Excerpt 2

Eliza was trapped between Mark’s body and the wall, but strangely, there was none of the panic she might have expected from being so vulnerable. Instead, she felt . . .anticipation. She settled into the warmth of his coat and waited to see what he would do next.

His eyes on hers, he reached up to his throat. Slowly, he loosened the knot of his tie, and pulled it off in a whisper of silk. He shoved the tie in his pocket and raised his hands to his collar. He undid his top button, revealing the strong, smooth column of his throat. He slipped another button free, and another. The hollow between the graceful wings of his collarbones appeared, and the beginning swell of his chest muscles.

Her breath stuttered in her throat.

Slowly, gently, he curved his big, callused hand around hers, the one that was holding the jacket closed. He lifted it to the opening of his shirt and placed it against the firm flesh there, pressing her palm against him.

She stopped breathing altogether. It was incredible to touch another person with her bare hand like this, not to influence him with her poison, but simply to feel his skin. Warm, and smooth as silk over muscle as hard as steel. Beneath her palm, his heart beat a fast, hard rhythm.

“You see? You can touch me.”

“I’m not using my power,” she whispered.

The muscles of his chest moved as he shrugged. “Doesn’t matter.”

She ought to pull away. This wasn’t right, no matter how delicious it felt.

But his eyes held her captive, his white lashes half-veiling irises the color of melting ice. She stroked her fingertips over him. His chest heaved in an unsteady breath. “You like touching me, don’t you?” His voice was a velvety rasp.

“I . . .”

Slowly, he moved their clasped hands down, away from his throat, over his chest. The buttons of his shirt pressed against her palm. His flesh was like a furnace beneath the thin cloth. Slabs of muscle over heavy bone, and under that, the quiet storm of his breath and the thunder of his heart.

He pushed her hand lower, down the iron ridges of his stomach. She marveled at how strong he was. But he wasn’t using his strength against her as he gently pressed her hand against his body. She knew he would let her break away at any time.

She should. She should stop this right now. But she didn’t want to. She wanted . . . wanted . . .

Good God, what was she doing? She tore her hand away from his grip. He let her, but then he placed his palms on the wall above her shoulders and bowed his head down until his lips were only a breath away from hers. “You’re so beautiful, you drive me crazy. After you left me today, I couldn’t sleep. I couldn’t eat. All I could think of was kissing you again, Eliza . . .”

“N-not here. Someone will see.”

He shook his head. “No one can see us.” The surrounding darkness rippled with his power. He was drawing the shadows around them, she realized, hiding them from prying eyes. “Kiss me,” he said, his voice low and rough.

“Not here,” she said again, trying to regain her scattered wits. Not on a filthy street in the middle of a slum.

Without a word he scooped her up in his arms. The shadow rushed through her, sweeping her up into the storm of darkness. An instant later the real world closed around her again. She blinked hard, trying to orient herself. She was high in the air on top of a building, perched on the roof. She looked down into the deep shadows below and realized that five stories down was the street she had been standing on mere seconds ago. Mark had brought them straight up the wall she had been leaning against.

His arms were still around her, steadying her. She looked up into his face. “Goodness,” she managed to say.

He grinned. “Is this more like it, angel?”

She looked out over the rooftops marching off into the night, the canyons of the streets dimly glowing. A cool wind swirled over the roof, washing away the stink of smoke and concrete with the scent of the lake. She tipped her face up to breathe it in. Through half-closed eyes she saw the crescent moon sailing high overhead, and even a few brave stars pierced the city night.

She looked back at Mark. He was as wild and beautiful as a white tiger, hair ruffled in the wind, clothes half-undone, eyes full of hunger. His hands were still wrapped around her waist, holding her safe. “Amazing,” she said. And she didn’t know if she meant the city below them, or him.

“Yeah. I like to come up on the roofs sometimes and look out over it all.”

“Master of all you survey?”

He grinned. “Something like that.” He flexed his fingers over her hips. “Is this a better place for a kiss?”

“What if I say no? What if I ask you to take me home instead?”

His smile dimmed, but his eyes stayed keen on hers. “I’ll do whatever you say.”

“Because I’m the boss?”

“You’re the boss.”

She smiled. Her hands stole up to his shoulders, his flesh fever hot against her palms. “What if I say I don’t want to kiss you here? Will you take me somewhere else?”

“Where do you want to go?”

“Surprise me.”

His eyes sparked at her challenge. He wrapped his arms around her again and the world shifted into a chaos of shadows.

 

About the Author:

J.B. Curry is an artist and
writer. She has traveled to every corner of the United States, but currently lives in beautiful New England with her family and her vast collection of houseplants.

Come visit her at here.

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