Tuesday, November 12, 2024

#OnTheBlogToday #BookBlitz...Baylor's Saints...#MC #Fantasy #Romance @RABTBookTours

(Balor’s Saints MC)

Fantasy Romance, Motorcycle Club

Date Published: November 15, 2024

 

 Tap into the magick, feel the heat, and ride along with the Balor’s Saints MC on this unmissable journey of danger and desire.


Belladonna: My father, the leader of my coven, is a monster. When I hear him talking about selling me in marriage to another coven, I know I need to escape. And there’s only one hope. I have to find the mage who prophesied to father the most powerful child seen in centuries and get him to sleep with me.

I knew tricking the notorious dark mage Balor Hades into bed was risky. But I’d planned to be gone before my spell wore off. Just one problem… He woke up before I did. Now he’s confined me to his house… and he’s beyond pissed.

Balor: The witch should have never darkened my doorstep. She definitely shouldn’t have cast a spell on me. But she did, and now I know she’s mine… my fated mate. I’ve waited two hundred years, and now that I have her in my grasp, I’m not letting her go. I’ll put everything on the line to protect her, even from her own father. But can the town of Darkwood survive a battle with her coven?

My brothers in the Balor’s Saints MC have my back, even if they aren’t too sure about Belladonna just yet. With them on my side, I know we’ll get through this. Except I’ve been keeping something from them -- my real identity. When they find out, will all hell break loose? Or will they still stand with me to fight against the supernatural storm brewing?

Dive into this supernatural romance that mixes spicy passion with pulse-pounding action.

 EXCERPT

Balor

Adjusting my leather jacket, I stepped into the clubhouse, letting the door swing shut behind me. Casual attire suited my alter ego -- jeans, a plain T-shirt, and the jacket that was more than just a piece of clothing. It was a symbol.

The low hum of conversation filled the room, mingling with the scent of leather and beer. The clubhouse had an air of camaraderie, the kind that came from shared secrets and mutual respect. Balor’s Saints MC -- my club. My men. Even if they didn’t realize it yet.

I nodded to someone across the room, my gaze sweeping over the familiar faces. Collin lounged on the couch, his eyes fixed on the TV screen. The crime drama playing out seemed a bit too close to home. I’d heard the whispers when he’d come to town. Seen the warrant myself. He’d seemed genuine when he’d said the crime had been justified. Still. I liked to make sure he wasn’t killing anyone while he was here.

I’d built this club gradually, but the idea had come to me about twenty years ago. Maybe slightly longer, or shorter. As long as I’d been alive, forget days blurring together. Entire years did. Collin had joined us about five years ago. I knew for a human that was a decent amount of time. For the rest of us, it was barely a blip on our radar. None of these men had known one another before I’d brought them into the club, and they hadn’t all moved to town even close to the same timeframe. But somehow, we worked well together, even though we all had a darker side, including the human. My club brothers weren’t saints -- despite our club name -- but we didn’t harm the innocent.

I took in the sharp angles of his face, the pale blue eyes that seemed to not miss a thing. I didn’t think anything in the room escaped his notice. Collin was always watchful. I’d wondered if it was because of the life he’d led running from the law, or if it was something else. Right now, he seemed at ease. His dark hair was short, the faintest hint of a five-o’clock shadow along his jaw. He didn’t bother to look my way as I crossed the room to take a seat beside him.

I watched Clay and Jackson play a game of darts. My gaze moved to the TV. I didn’t need to look at Collin for what I had planned. I doubted he’d even realize what I was doing. My magick slid along my skin, like the soft caress of a lover. I let it slither out, searching. When it brushed against Collin’s thoughts, I felt the familiar tingle in my fingertips. He didn’t even flinch. No indication he knew what I’d done. I’d gotten better at being subtle. No images of blood or fear. I did see a few images of him fucking one of the strippers down the road. I wouldn’t deny it made my dick hard. I’d never claimed to be a saint. Even my club brothers didn’t know how true that was.

“Show any good?” I nodded to the TV.

He snorted. “It’s crap. But it’s better than nothing.”

The low hum of the TV nearly drowned out the sound of the darts hitting the board. Someone had turned off the lights in the front of the building, and shadows crept along the walls in the great room.

Collin shifted on the couch. “Didn’t expect to see you tonight.”

I offered a faint smile. “Had some business in town. Thought I’d stop by, have a drink with my club brothers.”

Clay pulled a dart free from the board a few feet away. I watched as the muscles in his back bunched under his shirt. He threw the dart, and I heard the thud as it hit the target.

“Not bad,” Jackson Mays said. He pulled his own darts free and stepped back.

Jackson’s gaze lingered on me for a moment, and I saw his eyes darken. Not with lust. No. The necromancer didn’t want to fuck me. He wanted to pull me apart and see what made me tick. I’d have to watch him. I’d never admit it, but I didn’t know everything he could do. I’d need to look into his kind a bit more, see how much of a threat he could be. Another thing I’d been putting off. It wasn’t like Jackson hadn’t been here for about a decade already. Then again, there was a chance I wouldn’t be able to dig up much, regardless of which contacts I used. He seemed like the type who knew how to keep his secrets buried.

His raven hair was neatly trimmed, his clothing immaculate. I’d noticed he preferred darker colors, and today was no different. The shirt and jeans he wore were black, even his boots.

“Think you can do better?” Clay asked.

“I can try.” Jackson’s tone remained calm and measured.

Clay threw his last dart and joined us, grabbing a beer from the fridge before he settled into a chair. “You’ve got to be cheating. There’s no way you’d consistently win against me, not when my reflexes are better.”

“Just lucky.” Jackson’s lips twitched.

Ben, who’d been sitting at the table, looked up from his phone. He seemed to see right through me. His dark hair was mussed as if he’d run his fingers through it repeatedly. A perpetual smirk played on his lips, and I could see the appeal he’d have for a lot of people. He had a roguish charm and oozed danger. His looks and confidence didn’t hurt either. I knew better than to assume he was harmless. I could see it in the way he carried himself. The others didn’t seem the least bit concerned about him.

I’d heard a little about him before he joined the club nearly twelve years ago. Not enough to satisfy my curiosity. He kept to himself a lot. I’d considered trying to read his thoughts but worried it might scare him off. I’d wait it out. If he was a threat, we’d figure it out sooner or later. I’d hoped it would be later. I liked him, and I knew the others did too.

He stood and made his way over to us. His movements were almost ethereal in their grace. There was something almost intimate about it, and it made me understand why so many people offered up their necks to him, or any other veins he wanted to sink his fangs into.

“This is what we’ve come to? Watching bad TV because we’re too lazy to find the remote?” he asked.

I chuckled. “It’s not so bad. Beats staring at a wall.” These men were my brothers, not by blood but by choice. And yet I lied to them every fucking day. If they ever found out… No, it wouldn’t do me any good to go down that road. Not until I had to. Sooner or later, my identity would come out. Nothing remained a secret forever.

Clay took a swig of his beer. “Heard some weird things going on in town. You hear anything?”

I shrugged. “I hear a lot of things. Some of them might even be true.”

Ben snorted. “You’d think people would have better things to do than gossip.”

“Humans have always gossiped,” I said. “It’s in their nature. But supernaturals are even worse.”

Collin leaned back, stretching his legs out. “So, what’s the word on the street, then?”

I let my gaze drift over him. “I hear there’s a human in town who likes to play house with a bunch of supernaturals. As in keeping them like pets.”

Jackson’s eyes darkened, and I wondered if he’d be seeking out that person and liberating the enslaved people. Our people. There weren’t a lot of humans in this town, not compared to the number of supernatural beings, but the ones we did have didn’t typically cause trouble. But this person was new and clearly didn’t know the rules yet.

“Know what else I heard recently?”

 About the Author. . .

Harley Wylde is an accomplished author known for her captivating MC Romances. With an unwavering commitment to sensual storytelling, Wylde immerses her readers in an exciting world of fierce men and irresistible women. Her works exude passion, danger, and gritty realism, while still managing to end on a satisfying note each time.

When not crafting her tales, Wylde spends her time brainstorming new plotlines, indulging in a hot cup of Starbucks, or delving into a good book. She has a particular affinity for supernatural horror literature and movies. Visit Wylde's website to learn more about her works and upcoming events, and don't forget to sign up for her newsletter to receive exclusive discounts and other exciting perks.

Author on Facebook, Instagram, & TikTok: @harleywylde

 Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok: @changelingpress

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#NewBlogPost #Spotlight...The Contraption...#Psychological #Thriller @RABTBookTours @SexyNerdRevue

Psychological Thriller

Date Published: 03/25/2024

Publisher:  Great Whale Books

 

The wedding was weeks away for two young lovers, who had counted themselves lucky to have found one another. Then, it was over, as one of them abruptly disappeared. Audrey was not abducted. Not exactly. She was not taken against her will. Rather, her will itself had been taken. Coerced and controlled. Deceived and derailed. Matthias cannot walk away from the catastrophe, though he has nothing to go on, and is in the dark beyond all personal darkness he has ever known . . .

The Contraption is a novel that deals with the challenges faced by a woman who has been recruited into a dangerous, coercive religious cult. Her fiancรฉ is left not knowing even where she is. Her name has been changed and she has been relocated to another state. The cult, Church of the Mountain of Radiance, is an all-controlling psychological prison.


About the Author. . .




The author, Barton A. Stewart, is a long time student of the cult phenomenon, and literary fiction. The Contraption marries together his two long time interests. Stewart has lived all over the United States, is presently single, and currently calls Metro Boston home. His book will be among the most realistic fictional depictions of the kinds of things that can happen in cases like this. Avoiding the sensationalism of so many novels on this subject, Stewart offers a look into another world, which unfortunately exists in the here and now.

 




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Sunday, November 10, 2024

#BookReview #NewBlogPost...Schroeder...Horror #Psychological #Thriller #NealCassidy #MentalHealth @SexyNerdRevue

 

A gripping new psychological thriller by author Neal Cassidy, SCHROEDER, weaves together elements of the literary thriller/horror genre, stream-of-consciousness narration, and critical social commentary.

When an ordinary young man wakes up in his quiet neighborhood on a day seemingly like all the others, the city he’s lived in all his life has no idea what’s about to befall it once he sets out on a day-long bike ride carrying a purposefully packed backpack and a definitive plan.

Who is Schroeder, and what motivates his brutal killing spree? As he cycles from one victim’s home to the next, keeping pace with the rhythm of a city that burgeons to life under an increasingly dazzling sun exposing both its beauty and vivacity and its dark, dirty, underbelly, Schroeder lays bare his dreams, disappointments, delights, and dismays, establishing himself as a compelling contemporary antihero. The day rolls ominously towards its climax through hectic city streets, lush suburban gardens, stately mansions, and decrepit housing projects, punctuated by Schroeder’s reflections on a society in shambles and a deeply damaged, if not broken, humanity—but not without revealing life’s boundless wonder and infinite possibilities for joy and redemption through moments that are within—and yet tragically beyond—Schroeder’s grasp. A tell-all denouement brings Schroeder out of the shadows of his actions, the pathos of his questions about the kind of world we live in lingering long after.


The Sexy nerd's Review. . .

I often wonder when I hear about people who go on killing sprees, what in the world would make a person do such a thing? What kind of mind must you have to just suddenly wake up and decide, “hey, today I feel like killing a bunch of people.” Who does that? His name is Schroeder.

Yes, Schroeder woke up this morning and decided very methodically about how he would go about killing people. His routine was basic. He bathed himself, ate his breakfast, listened to his favorite tunes, and headed for the outdoors with bike in tow and while he pedaled and enjoyed the sights and sounds of the beautiful day that lay ahead, he had a sense of peace come over him. All was right with the world because Schroeder had a plan.

There’s something to be said with how we treat each other as human beings. Sometimes we get so caught up in our own little worlds that we forget there are other living and breathing creatures besides us. One would think it shouldn’t matter what color you are or where you’re from or how much money you have in the bank. At the end of the day, all any of us really want is to be noticed, acknowledged, loved, and respected. Why is that so hard?

Schroeder asked those very questions and when he measured up where his life was at this time compared to where he had once come from, it all boiled down to this exact moment in time. Schroeder had a mission, a map, and a plan on how to chronicle his life’s work. He was going to get noticed come hell or high water. Everybody was going to know Schroeder, especially his victims. What they couldn’t possibly know was just how close to death they really were coming in the wake of Schroeder’s wrath. Oh, but when fate would have them meet, all will be revealed.

Schroeder was a simple person. He didn’t ask for much and what he did ask for he never got. This story demonstrates what happens when you break the human spirit to the point of no return. Does this give any of us the right to do what Schroeder did? That’s not for me to say. Only you can make the determination after you read it.

I absolutely loved this story. I know, my fans think I’m crazy for reading books like this, but I do love my horror stories and especially one that has substance like this. I could relate to Schroeder, as crazy as it sounds. When you journey along with Schroeder, your jaw will hit the floor. I found myself grunting and grasping my invisible pearls. I must warn you, Nerds, this novel is not for the squeamish at heart. If you have a very weak stomach, you most definitely will not be able to handle the gore that you’re going to get. So, reader be warned! But, for my soldiers out there who like a bit of blood and guts and can handle it, you most definitely want to sink your eyes into this one. Hell yeah!

The Sexy Nerd gives Schroeder five additional days to ponder on a different outcome. Wow! This book was incredible. It is out now at your favorite book retailers or wherever books are sold. You can read this book in one setting. It’s not that long but the story is deep, and it will open your mind into places you might not want to go. Are we all just one step away from becoming Schroeder? Hmm…? Until next time, Nerds, you know how we do!

Open a Book and Get Mind Blown!



Thursday, November 7, 2024

#NewBlogPost #BookBlitz...The Pope's Jew...@RABTBookTours #RABTBookTours #ThePopesJew #EvaMekler #HistoricalFiction @SexyNerdRevue

Historical Fiction

 

 Paris 1980

Who is Luc Kasten? A wealthy French industrialist? A wanted man? A Jew from Avignon who has led a forged life? Or is he all three? Now, 35 years after the end of WWII, he is ready to unburden himself and hires a veteran journalist, Diane Jameson, to write his memoir. But years of hiding his identity make him hesitate to share his grim secret. A chance encounter with a past enemy spurs him to violence, and Diane, who finds herself falling in love with him, joins Kasten in his struggle to outwit the man who can expose him. What ensues is a cat-and-mouse thriller and a love story set against the somber background of France during and after WWII.

Praise for The Polish Woman:

 "A meticulous .. raw study of the relationship between Catholic and Jewish Poles..." ~ The New York Times

 

"Vividly drawn characters ... compelling, combining romance and mystery and reminding us of the difficulty of unearthing personal truths when one of history's great cataclysms has buried them." ~ The Wall Street Journal

 

“A haunting portrait... Strongly evoked ... The understated and moving story of a woman whose memories open so many old wounds." ~ Philadelphia Inquirer

Praise for Sunrise Shows Late:

"A deftly written story, full of danger, intrigue, suspense and passion ..." ~ Christian Science Monitor

 

"An austerely beautiful novel ... love blossoms amid the chaos, rubble and danger in a tale narrated with a calm restraint that adds to the passion. " ~ Publishers Weekly

 

About the Author. . .

Eva Mekler was born in Poland after WWII and lived in a displaced persons camp in German until she was four years old. Ms. Mekler worked as a psychologist and is a former actor. In addition to fiction, she is the author of eight books on psychology and theater. She lives in New York City.






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Tuesday, November 5, 2024

#NewBlogPost #BooksandBooks... Dreams Eclipsed... @RABTBookTours #RABTBookTours #DreamsEclipsed #KiraStone #ScifiRomance @SexyNerdRevue

Sci-Fi, Futuristic Romance

Date Published: November 8, 2024

 

Janet's orgasms are earth-shattering. At least they are when she's Dreaming in the Zodiac, a virtual reality world created by Dr. Archer Tate. The problem is that, technically, a system shutdown shouldn't be possible, especially not from a mere cyber-orgasm. Gamely, Janet reveals every intimate detail of her Dreams for the team's troubleshooting analysis but several weeks later, the cause of the anomalous malfunction remains a mystery.

Archer blames Janet for the Zodiac's glitch. He just can't figure out how she's triggering it. Doesn’t help that listening to her reveal her lusty Zodiac Dreams, orgasm by orgasm, is driving him insane with lust for her. For the sake of the project and his sanity, he decides to Dream with her so he can catch her in the act and put this business to rest.

There's more to Janet's orgasmic Zodiac Dreaming than mere mechanics. It takes someone who knows Janet's heart as well as her mind and body to create the disruptive orgasm. When the team psychologist, Liam, insists he's better suited for the job, Archer realizes he could lose something more precious to him than Zodiac. Will sharing Janet with Liam solve their problems, or will he lose her forever?
 

EXCERPT

Janet Widgeon sauntered into the smoky jazz club, her stiletto heels clicking on the varnished wood floor. Notes of sweet, sassy blues rolled down the dimly lit hall to welcome her. She was early, far earlier than she normally arrived at the Zodiac Club, but pacing in her apartment hadn’t lessened her anxiety.

Is he as excited about tonight as I am? Is he already here, waiting for me?

The burly bouncer stationed at the entrance greeted her. “Evenin’, Miss Janet.” His thin black lips curved slightly upward as he took in her skintight, siren red dress. High praise coming from the stoic man.

Though she wore three-inch heels, she had to stretch to kiss the beefy man’s cheek. “Evening, Trent. How’s the mood tonight?”

“Hotter than Maria’s gumbo.”

Janet chuckled. “Don’t let her hear you say that, or her next batch will violate our fire code.”

Trent ducked his head in agreement. “True that.”

She fingered her slim, sequined purse -- it was the same shade as the dress and shoes -- as she surrendered to her curiosity. “Any messages for me?”

“None of the friendly sort, if that’s what you’re asking.” Even in the dim light she could see his brown eyes sparkle with amusement.

With a nod, she deftly spun on the points of her shoes and headed toward the bar’s crowded interior.

“Going to your office, Miss, or should I ask one of the girls to bring a glass of white wine to your table?”

Her gaze roamed the dim interior as she considered her answer. “I’m far too restless to concentrate on paperwork tonight. I think I’ll mingle first, and then find a seat when Jim begins his first set.”

“You have yourself a fine evening then, Miss Janet.”

Janet penetrated the hazy atmosphere where a broad mix of patrons congregated around small tables in front of the stage. Tonight’s headlining act was a real coup for the club. Jim Byrnes owned a nightspot in Vancouver and rarely played anyplace else. How her manager had sweet-talked him into taking a trip to her little place in bayou country was a secret that man wasn’t telling.

A relatively new kid on the national jazz scene, Chris Thomas King was currently warming up the room with good, old-fashioned songs. Janet hummed along with his rendition of the old Blues classic John Law as she circulated through the crowd, exchanging pleasantries with old and new friends.

Jim’s name was a big draw, and Janet was pleased to see her staff keeping up with the clientele’s high demand for fresh, full glasses. Most of the customers wouldn’t want a meal so late at night, just a few Cajun snacks to keep the alcohol company. Janet noted that Maria and her kitchen staff seemed to have those requests under control as well.

There was only one question remaining on her mind. By the time she completed a full circuit of the room, Janet had that answer too. He’s not here.

Instead of being disappointed, a tremor of excitement rippled along her spine. He wasn’t here. Yet. But he would come. She was sure of it.

Janet signaled for a barmaid to bring over a drink as she sat down at an empty table, the one reserved for her exclusive use, in a dark corner at the right edge of the stage. Usually, she invited others to join her, but not this time. The only person whose company she desired now knew where to find her -- and would, sometime before the night was over.

It had been exactly a month ago that she’d first met him, a friend of a friend who shared her fondness for delta blues and late-night conversation. They’d talked until dawn threatened to cross the line from speculation to fact. He’d left her with a passionate kiss and a promise to return the following Saturday.

In fact, he’d come back again and again to the Zodiac Club, never staying beyond closing, never asking if he could take her home or inviting her to his place. But after their last encounter, she knew their next meeting would end differently. The sexual tension between them had hit a boiling point. Next time, they’d either turn up the heat until their rising passion was finally given a chance to burn, or they’d shut off the gas for good.

And now that night had arrived.

Janet sat alone and waited for him to appear through the blues of Chris Thomas King and then Jim Byrnes’ opening set. She enjoyed both musicians thoroughly, yet part of her remained aware of the lingering emptiness beside her.

As Jim’s second set began, Janet succumbed to a trickle of doubt. Had he forgotten about their date? Lost interest? Met someone else? Normally she didn’t allow the presence or absence of a man at her side to cast doubt on her self-worth, but this man was the exception to every personal rule she had about dating. She’d been so sure he felt the same way and now…

“Why do you wear such a sad face, cherรจ?” a rich, masculine voice asked from the shadows behind her.

She gasped in surprise. She’d never heard him approach, but somehow he stood beside her, a living advertisement for sin.

Inside the dark club, his face looked chalk white. The rest of him was encased in black from neck to toe. A lightweight ribbed turtleneck tucked into a pair of pleated pants. A sports coat hung over one arm, the opposite hand rested in his pants’ pocket. So much the man she remembered, still more shadow than substance. The only part of him that vibrated with life was the pair of quicksilver eyes which now pierced her soul.

Irritated that he’d made her doubt herself, she snapped, “You’re like a damn ghost.”

“You didn’t answer my question,” he pointed out, moving to her side.

Janet knew his courtly manners wouldn’t allow him to sit in the empty chair until it was offered. She’d keep him on pins and needles for a few more seconds to satisfy her moment of pique. “You’ve missed most of the show. Jim Byrnes, for heaven’s sake!”

“Is this transgression so severe you’d rather I go?” His whisky-smooth voice whispered against her ear.

Pure lust snaked down her spine. How could she be inches away from orgasm just from the sound of his voice?

 About the Author. . .

Kira Stone has been around the block…the writer’s block, that is.

From vamps and witches to historical heroes, from futuristic scientists to paranormal corporate executives, from Canadian werewolves to off-world shifters, Kira has written about them all. Manlove has sparked hot and heavy in many of her plots, but Kira also finds a lucky lady to keep the sexy heroes company from time to time. While Scotland remains her favorite place in the world, Kira is constantly in search of new adventures to add to the creative primordial ooze where her best stories are born.

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#OnTheBlogToday #BookBlitz...Memories of MK - Ultra...@RABTBookTours #RABTBookTours #MemoriesofMKUltra #HistoricalFiction #thriller #BillYarborough @SexyNerdRevue

Coming of Age / Psychological /Historical Thriller / Metaphysical

 

Memories of MK-ULTRA traces the development of three siblings from their early childhood—marred by harrowing mind control experiences in the CIA’s MK-ULTRA program—through their coming of age during the turbulent 60s and into their early adulthood in the 1980s. As the story develops, an incredible chain of events uncover the dark forces shaping their lives . . . until an unexpected source of light appears.
 


About the Author. . .

Bill Yarborough has enjoyed writing for many years. Manhattan Book Group will publish his debut novel, Memories of MK-ULTRA, in September 2024. The story is inspired by repressed memories from his young childhood where he, his brother, and his sister recall undergoing experiments of the CIA’s MK-ULTRA mind control program. Bill is also working on a sequel to his first novel, and his short story “Night Mother” was published by Prolific Press in an anthology of short stories, Jitter Issue # 8. Bill also co-authored emotional health articles in The Diablo Gazette Magazine, and he and his wife, Inge, are working on a book entitled EFT on Steroids.

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Friday, November 1, 2024

#OnTheBlogToday #ReleaseBlitz...Deadline...@RABTBookTours #RABTBookTours #Deadline #WilliamGHylandJr #Thriller @SexyNerdRevue

Fiction Thriller

Date Published: 11-01-2024

Publisher: SIMON & SCHUSTER/ARCHWAY

 You may not believe in ghosts, but you cannot deny terror.

To uncover the truth about her mother’s mysterious disappearance years ago, the estranged daughter of a renowned illusionist must overcome her fear and spend three nights in her father’s secluded gothic mansion, where he has vowed to return from the grave. Helped by an adventurous reporter, she discovers a terrifying childhood secret that thrusts her into a world of deception and jeopardy, confronting a haunting supernatural presence and dark family secrets.

 DEADLINE is a supernatural, suspense thriller with a strong female protagonist, a deeply terrifying antagonist and a series of disturbing surprises that build to an ultimate shocker of an ending, blurring the lines between reality and illusion.


 

 

About the Author. . .

WILLIAM G. HYLAND JR. is the award nominated author of four widely praised historical biographies, published by St. Martin’s/Thomas Dunne Books, (2009) and Regnery Books (2019). He is also a member of Mystery Writers of America, the American Screenwriters Association and has attended numerous writing seminars including Harlan Coben’s and Lee Child’s Master Class Fiction Writing Courses on BBC MAESTRO. He holds a B.A. from the University of Alabama and J.D. from Samford University. Before law school, the author held a TOP SECRET security clearance and worked for the Arms Control and Disarmament Agency.

 




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Wednesday, October 30, 2024

#NewBlogPost #BookBlitz...Bog Hag...@RABTBookTours #RABTBookTours #BogHagAnthology #Horror #DarkFantasy @SexyNerdRevue

Dark Fantasy, Lovecraftian Fantasy, Horror, Occult and Supernatural, Witchcraft and Magic

Publication Date: October 14, 2024

Whether she’s crawling across a sweltering bayou or swimming languidly through a swamp, the bog hag watches and waits.

Join sixteen AuthorTubers as they explore the allure and mystery of the Bog Hag, turning her from a villain to a gal with a social calendar, a vendetta, or even a need to be the best she can be.

Any and all proceeds from the sales of this anthology go to Quill Cottage Wildlife, a 501C3 nonprofit.

Featuring A Murky Reckoning

Garwick Greedgill is a fisherman desperate to become a legend in the realm where he dwells. When he pulls a horrific creature up from the polluted sea, he sacrifices it to the legendary sorceress who is said to live at the center of the bog near which he dwells.

Yadira of the Roots is said to be the daughter of Nyarlathotep, the Wish-Bringer From Beyond the Stars. Will Garwick’s actions earn favor from the storied Bog Hag, or does another fate await him?

 

Excerpt

An Aquatic Reckoning



Back at the dock, the fisherman hurried to the stables, paying the stable hand four Electrotokens to rent a cart and a pair of mules to haul his catch away. He promised to return the cart and the animals the next day.

Garwick Greedgill was thick around the midsection and had a sunken chest and narrow frame that belied the strength of his wiry arms. His leathery, tanned skin bore witness to many years spent on a boat's deck under the sun's harsh glare. His hair was a bristly mix of silver and gunmetal gray, poking through the many holes in a threadbare red cap embossed with the emblem of a long-forgotten fishing guild. A heavy forehead and scowling brow framed eyes a sickly shade of murky green, reminiscent of a polluted ocean. His broad nose bent slightly to one side courtesy of a mishap with the sail boom. Countless hours spent retrieving catch after catch left his calloused hands stained with fish scales and innards as he searched for the grand haul that always eluded him.

Garwick wore frayed puce trousers held up by a filthy, tattered flaxen rope belt. His once-bright cerise tunic, covered in various colored patches where he had mended it over the years, was threadbare. It hung loosely over his prominent belly. The soles of his scuffed brown boots were worn thin, leaving his feet vulnerable to the cold and damp. He wore a necklace of oddly shaped stones and bones that he believed would attract good luck. The longed-for luck seldom materialized.

Garwick drove the cart as close as possible to the bog extending beyond his property's edge. He lived in a ramshackle hut between the bog and a twisting, moss-covered path that led to a meandering creek. Near the hut was a dingy shed. Every corner held remnants of his profession—a collection of rusty hooks, tattered nets, and an old, cracked barrel filled with miscellaneous items of dubious worth. A box containing lucky tokens collected over the years sat on a dusty shelf. Best of all, there was a wondrous grimoire. An odor of decay emanated from the book's brown hide cover. Garwick did not mind the strange texture or unpleasant scent of the tome. Based on today's catch, the grimoire's magic had already begun to work.

About the Author. . . 

C. L. Hart, the owner and sole employee of Naughty Netherworld Press and Ornery Owl Ventures, is spoken of in hushed tones. She is an editor who writes or a writer who edits. She is also described as The Mad Scribe of the Northeastern Colorado Plains, The Terrible Old Woman, and The Author That Should Not Be. She is a member of ACES Editing Society, the Denver Horror Collective, First Coast Romance Writers, the H. P. Lovecraft Historical Society, Passionate Ink (writing as Lil DeVille), Regency Romance Writers, and Rocky Mountain Romance Writers.

Ms. Hart shares a home in a remote rural town of 134 souls with her adult son and three cats. Her sense of fashion is best described as Early Twenty-First Century Unmade Bed. This disabled former nurse can usually be found arguing with herself about subplots or rehabilitating eldritch horrors.

When not penning sanity-destroying works of dystopian fiction, Lovecraftian fantasy, or old-school horror with the occasional sweet romance thrown in to upset the cosmic apple cart, Ms. Hart enjoys creating baked goods she hopes will be considered palatable by someone besides eldritch horrors.

 

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Tuesday, October 29, 2024

#OnTheBlogToday #Book #Thrill...Ryder...@RABTBookTours #RABTBookTours #RyderHoundsofHell #JamieTargaet #RomanticSuspense @SexyNerdRevue

(Hounds of Hell MC)

Motorcycle Club Romance, Suspense

Date Published: November 1, 2024

 

Margot -- I've loved Ryder since we were kids, but he's never been the type to stick with anyone for long. Being a deputy sheriff means I see the world differently--by the law. He’s the opposite. The Mafia took my father from me. When they return to threaten everything I care about, including Ryder, I realize the line between right and wrong isn’t so clear. If we’re going to survive this, I’ll need Ryder’s strength. Maybe this time, we’ll face danger together.

Ryder -- Margot’s been right in front of me for years, but I’m the guy who never sticks around. Commitment? Not for me. Now she’s all I see. When the Mafia comes after the Hounds, everything is at stake. Margot’s not just a deputy sheriff -- she’s the woman I’ve always needed. The woman I love. I’ll die before I let anything happen to her.

EXCERPT



Ryder

The next day Ryder smiled to read the text from Margot Donner.

Margot: If you still think Razor is okay with it, I’ll come see you later today.

They’d become close after her mother’s death. She was the only woman he’d ever kept as a friend for years and never fucked. Yeah, she was a cop, but she was one of his favorite people.

“What are you grinning about?” Beast asked, shifting pillows behind Ryder’s back.

Ryder wasn’t admitting to shit. He had a reputation to maintain. “Just waiting to hear Axel got these fuckers,” Ryder told him, groaning as the bigger biker hauled him up into a sitting position on the bed.

“That’s it, huh?” Beast went over to the desk in Ryder’s room at the clubhouse, lifted off a tray that held his lunch.

Beast’s dark-eyed gaze was filled with humor. His muscular friend, with his wild fringe of dark hair, towered over Ryder in the bed. Once he situated the tray in front of Ryder, his beefy arms folded across the wide expanse of his chest. The face of the dark wolf inked on his friend’s forearm drew his attention with its sinister gaze.

“Maybe,” Ryder said, steadying the tray on his lap, shaking his head. His MC brothers were still feeding him soup and applesauce. “Can I get something solid?”

Beast shook his head. “Nah, you need to heal up.”

Ryder snorted. “I’m full of fucking holes. I’m surprised this shit isn’t running right out of me the minute I eat it.”

The chime of Beast’s phone had him fishing his device out of his pocket. “Yep?”

The deep voice on the other end of the phone sounded like Hero.

Ryder tried hard to listen -- he knew his twin brother was handling things, especially with his girl in danger. Still irked him greatly that he couldn’t be there to fight at Axel’s side. To have his back. That had always been the deal between them. To always have each other’s back.

As Beast listened to whatever Hero said, Ryder let his head fall back against the pillows with a deep sigh. Alex, now Axel, had been born first by seven minutes. A fact his twin had never thrown in his face, never used at all. And Axel certainly earned the part of the older brother even though they were identical. Axel could be counted on when Ryder needed him. If he was hung over from a night of partying, Axel let him stay home and took up the slack at work. When he got himself into the occasional fight, Axel tipped the scales if he’d underestimated the other guy. Or came to bail him out.

Ryder also had spent years watching his brother earn everyone’s respect. His brother and Hero made all the business decisions for the garage. When it came to dirty jobs the club needed doing, Axel was among the first approached. Cool-headed and calculating, Axel didn’t miss a damn thing.

Ryder didn’t command the same respect. He wasn’t disrespected. And he got important jobs from the club. Okay, maybe Ryder wasn’t as cool and calculated as his twin. But he was a good shot, a damn good fighter with any weapon or hand-to-hand combat. And when crazy was called for? He could do crazy all day long.

Yes, Ryder was a ladies’ man. Axel took comfort from the occasional sweet butt although not to the extent Ryder did. He liked the ladies and didn’t limit himself to the ones who came to every party fishing for a Hound to claim her as his old lady. He liked his women fast and flashy, like his bikes. Ryder appreciated a nice ride.

Unlike his bikes, he never stayed with any woman more than a few weeks. “Love” was amazing the first few weeks. But as attachment tried to take hold, Ryder felt himself being strangled by those thin vines of commitment.

“It’s done,” Beast told him, ending the call. “Sounds like a fucking free-for-all. Sheriff Sawyer got to the Mafia guys first, then once our guys got there, Axel beat the shit out of his girl’s ex. Probably the same fucker who shot you and killed Elsie and Clyde over at Cowboy Pete’s.”

Ryder smiled. He knew Axel would deal with it.

“The guy dead?” Ryder asked, bracing for regret. It would have been nice to put down the guy who shot him full of holes -- or gave the order -- himself.

“Nah,” Beast told him. “Sawyer took him in.”

That could spell trouble down the road.

“At least Axel’s old lady is a little safer,” the other biker told him as he wandered out of his room. “Until they let him out.”

Axel’s old lady.

Everyone called her Angel but if he remembered rightly, her name was Sadie. Was she his twin’s old lady?

Yeah, the way it started out, Ryder’d assumed she was some sort of pity thing his brother had taken on. But weeks went by after she decided to hide in Mercy, and his brother stayed close to her all that time. By the time her ex and his men found her, yeah, he had to admit they’d felt like a couple. The young woman looked at his brother like a knight in shining armor. That wasn’t anything new. Ryder had seen that before. His brother had a soft spot for women and kids.

It wasn’t until the party Saturday night when Axel brought her to the clubhouse that it hit Ryder. The way his twin looked at her. Damn. He should have noticed before. His brother had found love, and he knew next to nothing about the woman except she’d been horribly abused by her ex and looked at his brother like he hung the fucking moon.

Shouldn’t he know something about his brother’s girl? If she was in Axel’s life, she’d be in his too. Hell, they’d brought her to the clubhouse a couple of days ago to keep her safe. Ryan heard her hustling around beyond his door. She never popped in to check on him though.

Lying still with the pain bleeding vividly into his awareness, Ryder reached for his pain meds, taking a double dose now that he knew his brother was safe. His brother had saved his girl and beat the fucking bad guy. Axel had to be feeling pretty good about things about now.

Ryder tried to shift on the bed to make himself comfortable, willing the pills to take the pain away sooner rather than later.

He and Axel couldn’t have been further apart in life right now. His brother was the conquering hero, setting things right for his girl and his dumbass twin brother. Ryder went home with a girl, and she got shot in the face, killed. Ryder got shot with her, providing the enemy with a weak board in the fence. They had to take him out of the hospital to keep him safe from the Mafia until Axel resolved it. Didn’t that make him a useless pile of shit?

Before his eyes slid shut, his gaze fell on his phone. He realized he’d never answered Margot, and he wanted to before he crashed. Lifting the phone in his shaking hand, he read back over the conversation.

Margot: If you still think Razor is okay with it, I’ll come see you later today.

About the Author. . .

Jamie Targaet is the author of the Hounds of Hell MC. She's anxious to introduce you to this club of gorgeous, dominant men and the lucky women who surrender to them. The ride is going to get wild at times, not going to lie. But there's thrilling action, scorching hot sex scenes, and all the feels.

Jamie writes erotic romance for Changeling Press, a little fanfiction on the side, and she's an aspiring horror writer in another life. She enjoys time with her family (including the fur babies). She likes good horror movies and shows, emo metal and classic rock, and time spent in other worlds writing and reading. She loves hearing from readers and is looking forward to hearing from you.

 

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