Book Tour: Well Below Heaven

Literary / YA (older teen)

Publisher: Cur Dog Press

Published Date: February 7, 2019

Seventeen-year-old Kelly is in a spartan boarding school in northern Idaho, sent away for drugs—as planned. Her little brother Sammy is left home in Missouri, getting ready for high school. He is twitchy, quick, writes dark poetry and longs to play football. He’s also got a nose for trouble, and Kelly has left a sordid truckload. Her sadistic ex is involved, so is one twisted teacher, and so is the object of Sammy’s crush. He’s in deep, and Kelly’s warnings fall flat, and the consequences will be dire.

Author Interview: 

For the record, please state your name. 

Idyllwild Eliot

What inspired you to become a writer?

Life. Pain. Fascination with people. I had to get the emotions out somehow, so I just started writing. It wasn’t a lifelong plan or goal.

What are your hobbies?

Hiking, yoga, and coffee shop sitting.

What are you passionate about?

Prose. I love good prose, so I strive as much as I can to write compelling prose.

What interests are you into?

People and their actions. I’ve started reading some psychology books, the more educational kind, to better my understanding. I love to delve beneath the surface to see the real drivers to behavior.

What social media do you use to contact with your fans? Facebook, Instagram, and Twitter

Facebook and Twitter. But I’m not a fan of social media, so it’s a constant challenge.

What is your username on the different social media platforms? (do you want this information to be published) 

@IdyllwildEliot — for Facebook and Twitter

What did you do before you became a published author?

Odd jobs. I did some service industry work, like at an ice cream shop, and some office gigs as well. Office jobs helped me learn spreadsheets that I use for planning. It’s the structured side of me.

Do you have another job other than writing?

I found that if I try to write and have any sort of real job, then both suffer. So I go back and forth from temp job to writing to temp job.

How long have you been writing for?

Ten years or so. Well Below Heaven is my debut, but I’ve got partial pieces floating around.

What's your writing style like?

I hear voices, and I put them down. I don’t know what kind of style that equates to.

What's your favorite genre to write/read in and why?

I tend to write gritty life stories, and read suspense. I’m putting a little more suspense into my works right now, but it has to start with the characters.

What's your least favorite genre to write/read in and why?

Horror. Even though I think Steven King is great writer, I have no desire to facilitate my nightmares.

Some writers have something playing in the background, do you and what?

Seldom. Every once in a while I’ll put on some ambient music—the new agey kind, or classical. As long as there aren’t lyrics.

What's the inspiration behind your books?

WBH was a purging of my adolescent angst. Of course, that angst seems to reproduce itself, so this may be an ongoing element to my writing.

If you could do it all over again, would you change anything about your books?

Yes. Always.

Is there anything you found particularly challenging about writing?

Finishing is brutal. The last words before it gets sent out are the hardest by far. That’s when the insecurities seem to quadruple in size, and grow horns and fangs.

Who are your cover designers?

Cur Dog Press did the WBH cover for me.

What authors are your inspiration?

Virginia Woolf and Ernest Hemingway. I go back.

What is your take on fanfiction?

Not a fan at all. I don’t mind an homage or reference, but using someone else’s work is like sampling a song.

What advice would you give any newbie author or anyone that wants to pick up writing?

Write until you can’t write anymore. Then start again when you can. It fits any timeframe.

What are your fondest childhood memories?

Rough question. I truly enjoyed watching the neighbors play football in the snow. I actually played a few times, tackle. I wouldn’t recommend it to other girls, but for me it was wonderful.

And I liked the woods. I still do, which is one draw to the Pacific Northwest. The smell and the clean air are special.

If you Don’t mind tell us a little about your personal life?

If you don’t mind, I’d like to keep my personal life personal.

 Do you have any causes, charities, foundations that you are passionate about and donate to? if so why? how did you get involved??

I avoid causes. They tend to overwhelm rationality. But I give to cancer research. And I always check the charity to ensure that the vast majority of the money goes towards the cause. Too many nowadays are moneymakers for the charity organizers and marketers.

Do you have any pets?

Not at the moment. But I love both dogs and cats.

Some fun questions now 

What age were you when you were first kissed?

Twelve

Who was your high School sweetheart?

Too personal.

What did you want to be when you were little?

A news anchor. No longer.

What is your favourite colour??

Blue

What is your favourite food/s?

Fish tacos. Mahi Mahi #1, Cod #2.

What are you afraid of?

Liars. But it’s become more of an adversarial relationship that a fear.

How old were you when you first got drunk?

Twelve. But I think I was drunk on one wine cooler. 

What was your first car?

An old Honda Civic.

Did you live in a house or apartment when you were a child?

House

What was your favourite tv show as a child?

That 70’s Show.

What was your favorite book?

The Catcher in the Rye is and probably will remain my favorite book forever. Other Salinger I didn’t enjoy nearly as much.

Who did you have a crush on when you were in school and how old were you?

No names, but twelve. That was a big year for me.

Tell us about your Book/S?

I know this should be old hat by now, but it’s not. So if it’s okay, I’ll just leave the blurb for WBH, which is my only published novel.

Seventeen year old Kelly is in a spartan boarding school in northern Idaho, sent away for drugs—as planned. Her little brother Sammy is left home in Missouri, getting ready for high school. He is quirky, quick, writes dark poetry and longs to play football. He’s also got a nose for trouble, and Kelly has left a truckload. And it’s sordid and dangerous. Her sadistic ex is involved, so is one twisted teacher, and so is the object of Sammy’s crush. Kelly warns him away, to no avail. He’s in too deep, and the repercussions could shock the town, and cost him his life.

 for

Tell us a little about yourself. Perhaps something not many people know about? Can you share with us the best way to contact you and where to find your work? This is where you have the floor.

The full first draft of WBH was written on an unlined sketch pad, left handed. (I’m right handed)

I’m fairly private, so the best way is via the Cur Dog Press web-site or social media. 

My work can be found online at all the prominent retailers—Amazon, Barnes and Noble, Books a Million, Kobo, iBooks. A few local bookstores have picked it up. If you’re in Kalispell stop by The Bookshelf. In Carlsbad, California, try Fahrenheit 451 Books. They’re two of my favorites that sell new and used books.

Thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to do this interview with us!!!

About the Author:

After adolescence survived in the Midwest and a few obligatory years at the university, Idyllwild Eliot embarked on a journey of internal and external exploration. With stints in Houston, Louisiana, and even Thailand, where she studied yoga, Ms. Eliot has become a semi-professional vagabond. Most recently (at the time of publication) she has been experiencing the North American west. If not sipping a cocktail on a deck in the northern Rockies, she might be found bodysurfing in Southern California, watching Bald Eagles in Montana, or in some other picturesque town hiking, meditating, or sitting with her laptop open and, at its side, a stout mug of black coffee. Well Below Heaven is her debut.

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Book Blitz: The Bet Between Us

The Bet Between Us
Brandon Moore
Publication date: February 5th 2019
Genres: Romance, Young Adult

Donald Cerlino only cares about three things: money, getting girls, and gambling. His friends are so impressed with his abilities with women, they start calling him Don Juan. When senior year starts, he’s got a list of girls he wants to add to the growing number of notches on his headboard. So when his best friend, Thomas, bets Donald that his skills aren’t enough to nab the school valedictorian, Alaina Pizzo, Donald is up for the challenge. What Thomas doesn’t know is that Donald has had a crush on Alaina since kindergarten. Problem is, Alaina hates his guts.
When Donald’s feelings for Alaina start to show, Thomas begins to turn against him. Thomas wanted Donald to see the error of his ways when it comes to women, not abandon their friendship for yet another girl. The deeper Donald gets, the more he wants a future with Alaina, but that means revealing why he started talking to her in the first place. When Thomas starts threatening to tell Alaina the truth, Donald has to decide if he wants to lose the love of his life or his best friend.
Donald realizes he took a bet he can’t win. The great Don Juan may lose everything.

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EXCERPT:

Author Bio:
Brandon was born in Bridgeton, NJ in 1991. He started writing in the first grade when his teacher gave him an assignment to write a story that had to do with Halloween. He chose to write a story about werewolves and the rest is history. Since then he's written poetry, lyrics to quite a few songs, a ton of reviews on music, movies, video games, etc. He currently resides in Carney's Point, New Jersey, with his wife and cat.

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Book Blitz: Shadow Voice

Shadow’s Voice
Natalie Johanson
Publication date: January 2nd 2019
Genres: Adult, Fantasy

Rose Trewin is on the run. Pursued by memories of her father, she runs from city to city, seeking normalcy. But Rose can’t escape her past, or the magic running through her veins, the magic that allows her to slip through the shadows unnoticed. The magic her father once used to mold her into a mercenary sent to destroy his enemies.
Now her magic is growing and changing, becoming something new and untamable. Rose is unable to rest. Wolves wrapped in fog follow her relentlessly along the countryside. Desperate, she uses her magic to escape, but the shadows are pushing her towards the center of a conspiracy.
Now, her country teeters on the brink of a civil war as a Lord Governor gathers power against the king. An enemy, with magic similar to her own, emerges in the chaos of political intrigue.
Faced with a country at war and a king brought to his knees, Rose must accept who she is and harness her powers in order to save her country and herself.

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EXCERPT:

Rose stretched her neck and sighed. the low setting sun was hot on her neck and sweat trickled down her back. She groaned and pushed away from the spinning wheel, dropping the bundle of wool back into the pile at her feet.
“Miss Trewin, you haven’t finished.”
She rolled her stiff shoulders and turned to the older, white haired woman. “No, ma’am. But the sun is setting and I’m hungry.” She dusted her lose skirts free from the wool fibers. “I’ll make it up tomorrow.”
The shopkeeper glowered at her but relented with a wave of her hand. “Fine then. Business has been slow anyway.”
“Thank you, Marg.”
Rose smiled softly and slipped past the gruff woman—the first to offer
Rose a job in this small town. She wasn’t a great seamstress or spinner, but she worked hard, and Marg wasn’t a cruel shop owner.
“Are you still staying at the inn?” Marg asked as she passed.
She tucked stray hair behind her ear. “Yes. It’s clean and not too expensive.”
Marg snorted softly at her. “You should look for a room somewhere else. There are plenty of people who would rent you a room. I even know of a small cottage or two near the woods.”
“Perhaps,” she said as she dusted off her skirts.
Rose looked up when her boss cackled at her. “You’ve been here nearly six weeks. Living in an inn can’t be enjoyable.”
“No, it is not but . . .” She trailed off. “Thank you again.”
Slipping outside, she wandered down the uneven cobblestone street toward the pub and inn. It was a small building, dingy and worn. The ceiling had a haze of smoke clinging to it, but it had decent food, mostly, and clean beds. It was a small town, smaller than she liked, but it seemed to suit her. The buildings were a ramshackle collection of stone and wood, many wedged next to each other as if the city grew too quickly.
Rose settled herself at a small table in the corner. “Dinner ma’am?”
She looked up at the tired barmaid and nodded. “Some ale as well, please.”
The barmaid quickly returned with a bowl of stew and a mug of ale. Rose sipped at the thin broth and poked at the chewy chunks of meat. She wrinkled her nose at it and pulled the mug of ale closer. Leaning back in her creaky chair, she watched the room.
Her view was interrupted by a man stopping in front of her table. “Yes?” Rose drawled and slowly dropped her hand closer to the dagger sheathed in her boot.
The thin man gestured to the empty chair across from her. “Might I join you for some conversation and a meal?”
She glanced at the stranger and looked him quickly up and down.
Worn and cracked boots, old but nice clothes, dirty face but clear eyes. Before she could shake her head no, he was dragging the chair around and sitting next to her, his back to the wall.
Rose raised an eyebrow at him as he settled in the chair and waved over the barmaid. “Yes, of course . . . help yourself,” she drawled and shifted so she could face him.
He snorted. “A horse makes for stale company after so long.” He turned to the woman. “Some stew and ale, please.”
She sipped her ale and watched him. “I’m Nico.”
“Rose.”
Nico gulped down half of his ale before stopping for air. “Have you lived here long?”
She clucked her tongue and finished off her ale. “Born and raised.” She stood from the rickety table. “Now, I must be off. Enjoy your stew.” Rose walked steadily and calmly toward the narrow stairway in the corner without looking back. She didn’t care for strangers and cared for questions even less, no matter where they came from. Let that traveler think she was born in this rotting little town and forget all about the strange girl he met in the tavern when he left.
Rose unlocked the door to her small room and slipped inside, locking it behind her. She walked to her narrow bed and pulled the dagger from each boot, dropping them onto the small table next to it. She slipped off the simple skirt of browns and reds and yanked off the constricting bodice. Rose climbed into bed, ignored the sounds of a tavern below her, and tried to sleep.
The night was restless, with the wind howling outside all night. Dreams of her father and life before made for a long night. When morning came, it was gray and cold. Rose looked at the sky from her small window and thought grimly how it fit her mood. She dressed quickly in more reds and browns before heading out of the inn for another day of tedious work. She liked the flashy bright colors of turquoise or green, but those stood out. She paused as she passed the small mirror hanging on the wall. Her hazel eyes and straight brown hair were simple. Too young to have wrinkles, but life didn’t care that she was barely in her second decade and there were small lines at the corners of her eyes. Rose loved bright colors when she was young. Now, reds and browns were her col- ors. They don’t stand out. She snorted at her reflection and left her room.
Rose pulled her long jacket closed against the wind. The walk from the inn to the shop was short but the wind was cold and hard. By the time she reached the shop door, she was half running. The bell dinged softly as Rose tried to smooth her hair back into place.
“Oh, hello dear.”
She gave up pulling her hair out of her face with a huff. “Nasty wind picking up, there better not be a storm coming.”
Marg snorted and turned the page in her ledger. “Oh, someone came looking for you after you left yesterday.”
She snapped her head up. “What?” Alarm made her insides twist. No one should be looking for her. No one should know to come here. Marg licked her thumb and turned another page. She spoke without bothering to look up, “Yes, tall man. Had quite a lot of black hair. He said he was an old friend of yours.”
Rose tried to swallow but her mouth had gone dry from fear. “What did you tell him?”
Marg finally looked up. “That you’d gone for the day.”
“Anything else?”
Marg frowned at her. “No, dear. What’s gotten into you?”
She rubbed her lips with her shaking fingers. “I need to run an errand. I’ll be back later. I’ll make up the missed work tonight.”
Marg frowned at her. “You only just got here, girl. What am I paying you for?”
“I’ll be back.” Rose turned on her heel and went back out into the wind. Her hair whipped around her face as she turned down the narrow alley between the drapery next door. Her light skirt wrapped around her legs in the wind. She took another turn and headed along the back of the buildings toward the inn.
“Morning, Flower.”
Rose jerked to a stop. She turned faced the speaker. “You know I hate that name.”
A tall man leaned against the wall, his dark hair hiding most of his face. She could never tell if it was to be sensual, to hide his face, or if he simply couldn’t control his messy locks.
“I thought I’d wait around for you.”
“Why are you here, Gavin? Have you finally found someone who will hire you?”
He leaned against the shop wall, trying to look relaxed, but Rose could see the strain in his neck and the clench of his jaw.
“I’m looking for better employ, if you must know. You, however, are a long way from home. Your father must be so worried.”
Rose pulled her hands out of her pockets and kept her arms lose at her sides. The wind pulled her hair from the loose braid and it whipped around her face. “I’m sure,” she drawled. “Is that what you’re going to do, Gavin? Rush back to him with news of my whereabouts, hope that lets you back into his fold? Do you think presenting me as a gift will get you work?”
He jerked away from the wall and grabbed her hard by the arm. “He’ll be mighty pleased to know your location. Might even pay me good coin for the information. And if he won’t, others will. You know they will.”
A quick, hard whirl freed her arm from Gavin’s grip. Before he could say more, she turned away. He shouted after her but she ignored him; keeping her back straight. She slipped in through the servant’s door near the stables and used their hallways to get up to her room. She locked the door behind her and let out a deep breath.
Her little room was barren: a small bed against one wall, a short rick- ety desk along the other. She had no decorations and her few personal items were still packed in her bag. If she were to leave, no one would remember she’d been here. Her spot at the small spinner shop would be easily filled.
Rose slumped onto her small bed. This was the farthest west she’d been, had even crossed the province borders into Amora and still her past found her. She’d been here too long already, and Gavin couldn’t be allowed to sell his news of her. She curled onto the bed, tucked the scratchy wool blanket around her, and set in to wait for the night.

Author Bio:
Natalie Johanson has been interested in writing and reading since she first held a pencil. What first began a short story for her own reading turned into a world with a story to tell the world. When her time isn't being monopolized by her ferret, work as a police officer, running Dirty Dash races or reading she is writing.
Check out Natalie's website, nataliejohanson.com, for news, updates and more.

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Book Blitz: Ink

Ink
Jobie Baldwin
(Tribe, #1)
Publication date: October 6th 2018
Genres: Urban Fantasy, Young Adult

A powerful god, a magical tattoo and a rebellious teenager. What could possibly go wrong?
Christian, an unruly English teenager, stumbles onto a mysterious tattoo parlor. Possessed by the Rune God, Hagalaz, he becomes immortal, gifted with magical powers which allow him to harness the forces of nature.
Only problem? Hagalaz God of Disruption, is intent on making Christian’s life a living hell.
Oh, and did I mention the Settlers, a mysterious group with a dark and devastating secret?
It is up to Christian and his new Tribe of four, each gifted with their own celestial passenger, to uncover that secret.
But nothing is what it seems, and it will take much more than the powers of a few long-forgotten gods to stop the impending global disaster that threatens to destroy everyone and everything in its path.

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EXCERPT:

“Oh hell!”
My hands were glowing blue-white, and sparks were shooting out of my fingers. I moved them away from my sides, which turned out to be a bad idea, because forks of lightning shot out of them hitting the street below.
‘Stop!’ yelled Ben and I turned to look at him. He’d climbed off the ledge and was clinging to a drain pipe attached to the side of the building. The wind whipped at his shirt and almost tore it off his body.
‘I’m trying!’ I shouted back as more lightning flared out of my fingertips and crashed to the street below, tearing up pavement like paper. So far I hadn’t hit anyone, but it was just a matter of time as lightning was firing off left and right.
Hagalaz was really getting into his stride. I had to do something, but what?

Author Bio:
JOBIE BALDWIN is the author of the Young-Adult Fantasy novels, Ink (2018) and Flak (2018).
In 2008 Jobie joined a writers' collective, Café Three Zero and contributed short stories to their published anthologies Tales from the Cafe and Red.
She is currently working on a couple of prequel novellas to her Tribe series and is planning on starting to write the next instalment of the Tribe series this Summer.
Jobie lives near London with her husband and their two rescue dogs Lori (the Greyhound) and Monty (the Podenco). She says, "I'm vegan, I'm a biker, but the thing I love most of all is writing down the stories my characters whisper to me while I'm asleep."

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Library of Absolution Blitz

Library of Absolution
Jennifer Derrick
(Legacy of the Book Mesmer, #1)
Published by: Crimson Tree Publishing
Publication date: December 17th 2018
Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Romance

Alarick Brandon is the powerful wizard who operates The Keep, a refuge for magical people fleeing the persecution of the Ministry. A bitter realist, Alarick knows it’s only a matter of time until the Ministry succeeds in eradicating magic from the world—and exterminating all magical beings—so he has been careful to avoid any personal involvement with the people who pass through his sanctuary.
But when Elissa Stone arrives at The Keep, her village a smoldering ruin, and only her magical talent and a forbidden library left to her name, Alarick’s ordered world descends into chaos. Elissa is a Book Mesmer, a magical talent long believed extinct. She can enchant books, making them indestructible, unreadable…even deadly to unauthorized readers. But while her magic can secure a legacy for future magical generations, it’s not a skill that’s good in a fight, and certainly not one that Alarick sees any real use for. But there’s something compelling about a woman who defies the Ministry’s edicts against female literacy, and she seems determined to prove that knowledge is a weapon in its own right…
The first installment in an enticing new fantasy series by author Jennifer Derrick, The Library of Absolution is a compelling story of perseverance and determination in the face of persecution, in a Dark Age where hope is lost—and knowledge is the only thing left to fight for.

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EXCERPT:

“You told me you left to look for books,” Alarick said.
“I did, in part. That wasn’t a total fabrication. I figured if I was leaving I might as well make the effort. If I was going to get killed by the Ministry, it should be in the service of something larger than myself. Fool that I was,” she whispered.
Alarick ignored the last part. She was only stating a fact. There was no need for him to comment further on her foolishness.
“But you had no intention of returning?” he asked. “Because of something you found in my library?”
The thought of her leaving with no intention to return gutted him. It was bad enough she’d wanted to leave at all; to put her safety at risk for the sake of some books. It was bad enough that he had failed to keep her safe; to understand what she meant to do until it was too late.
But even at the worst of it, he’d believed she intended to return to him. To the Keep. That was why he’d gone after her, because he believed she still wanted to be here. That she’d intended to run away forever was unthinkable. That he’d risked his life for someone who had run from him, who wanted nothing to do with him, was galling.
He choked back his rage and sorrow, replacing them with cool disdain.
“Well, then, are you going to tell me just what was so terrible that it would make you flee and never come back? I’m aware that nothing in that library paints me in a flattering light, but you already knew of my unpleasantness. Surely the disjointed ramblings of a young man could not be quite so damning,” Alarick said.
Of course, he knew the truth. There were some secrets in there so damning he could imagine exactly why she wanted to run from him. It was why he kept that room protected. Damn her for finding it. Damn her for finding him.
She turned her head away from him. Not that it mattered. She couldn’t see him. But he wasn’t going to let her damn his soul and cast him out of her life without at least facing him while she did it. He reached over and with gentle pressure turned her chin toward him.
“If you expect me to forgive you for your trespass, you will at least face me while you tell me exactly what sort of monster you believe me to be,” he said.
“I’d rather you tell me the story as the man you are now, not the boy who did the things I read. Tell me there’s a better ending to your story. Tell me that you are not the monster.”
He laughed at that.
“Would that I could,” he said. “But since you read my books, I’m certain you know there is no redemption for me. That is why you left, isn’t it?”
“No. I didn’t leave because I feared you to be irredeemable. My time with you has taught me that there is more to you than the boy in those books. I left because I feared there was no place for me in your story. And that I could not bear.”
He was about to say something, but suddenly he couldn’t remember what it was. What had she said? She hadn’t left because of his past deeds, but because she was afraid he had no place for her? Was that possibly right? He struggled to make sense of it in his brain. He’d expected condemnation, not… Was it disappointment he heard in her voice?
Before he could sort out a proper response, she said, “I’ve read your grimoire. It’s terrifying. Start with why you took such an interest in dark magic and go from there.”
Alarick said nothing at first. Why had he taken an interest in dark magic? The question was better phrased as, “Why not?” He looked at Elissa. She might not be able to see him, but she had an uncanny ability to focus on his face as though she could. And something in her eyes compelled him to tell the story that he’d never told anyone in its entirety.

Author Bio:
Jennifer is a freelance writer and novelist. As a freelancer, she writes everything from technical manuals to articles on personal finance and European-style board games. Her interest in storytelling began when she was six and her parents gave her a typewriter for Christmas and agreed to pay her $.01 per page for any stories she churned out. Such a loose payment system naturally led to a lot of story padding. Broken Fate, her first novel, earned her $2.80 from her parents.
Jennifer lives in North Carolina and, when not writing, can often be found reading, trawling the shelves at the library, playing board games, watching sports, camping, running marathons, and playing with her dog. You can visit her at her official website: JenniferDerrick.com.

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Kingdom of Glass and Ashes Blitz

Kingdom of Glass and Ashes: A Limited Edition Collection of Cinderella Retellings
Publication date: December 18th 2018
Genres: Adult, Fairy Tales, Fantasy

A classic fairy tale- but not how you remember it…
What if the stepmother wasn’t the only one who was wicked and Prince Charming wasn’t what he seemed? What if your favourite princess didn’t make it home by midnight?
Be transported to far away lands where fantasy and magic come together and pumpkins and princes are joined by shifters and stepsisters in this captivating collection of one of the greatest love stories ever told.
From the imagination of our authors, prepare to meet Cinderella as you’ve never read before. Kingdom of Glass and Ashes is a spellbinding collection of retellings, written by multiple USA Today and bestselling authors telling their own version of the beloved tale.
Get ready for romance, excitement, enchantment and more than just a glass slipper.

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SNEAK PEEKS:

Excerpt from Holly Hook:
I’m Ellia, Syndie’s ugly stepsister. Mother knows this, so she works Syndie to the bone, but this whole time, she’s been waiting. Planning. Syndie wants us on the streets, and despite my kindness, I’m no exception.
Following her to the Courts lands me in the hands of a handsome guard, Jasper. Literally. And he doesn’t seem to notice my corset or frizzy hair. Nervous and secretive, Jasper wants to stop cruel Prince Calvin from becoming King, which he’ll do when he chooses his wife at the royal ball. And now I’m key to a plan that can save my family and the entire Kingdom.
Our weapons? Two magical slippers. One gives false beauty–but only until midnight. Then the other shows the wearer’s true nature. If Prince Calvin even holds the hand of his chosen when the clock strikes twelve, the spell hits him, too. Everyone will see the truth and he’ll never become King.
He and Syndie deserve each other.
I must make her dreams come true. But Mother, my sister, and a kingdom of jealous girls will do anything to stop Syndie from snagging the Prince. But what terrifies me the most is that trapped slipper. I can’t let Jasper see how ugly I am, but if it all goes wrong, I’ll have to give myself to its magic.
The Kingdom must be saved at all costs, even if I must sacrifice my happily ever after.

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Blurb from Emma Savant:
Hidden in the city of Portland, Oregon, is a shimmering world of magic—one faerie Olivia Feye doesn’t want to touch with a ten-foot wand. She’d rather study biology, or garden, or floss her teeth, or do literally anything except pay attention to the Glimmering world and her internship at Portland’s premier faerie godparent agency.
But when her supervisor is hospitalized after a flying pumpkin carriage accident, Olivia is thrust into the middle of a case. And this one won’t be easy: Her client is Elle, a barista whose plans don’t include an enchanted prom or Prince Charming.
The reward for a happily-ever-after is enough gold pieces to get Olivia out of the Glimmering world forever. But as she comes face-to-face with the complexities of faerie godmothering, she’s forced to wonder: How much is she willing to sacrifice for her own happy ending?

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Blurb from D.L Pitchford:
A modern day Cinderella with a twist…
High school seniors Noah Barton and Eden Prince have competed for top of their class since age seven. When their academic rivalry ruins a thermodynamics demo, their physics teacher decides to help them get along. By forcing them to be lab partners.
As graduation approaches, Noah and Eden are too busy figuring out college to deal with each other. Noah’s football-loving dad sabotages his chance to win a big scholarship. Eden’s traditional mother cares more about finding her a husband than encouraging her dreams.
Winning big at the regional science fair is their last hope.
Will Noah follow in his mother’s footsteps? Can Eden show her parents the environment is more important than a boyfriend? Will Noah and Eden finally learn to work together?
Follow Noah and Eden’s budding romance in this emotionally charged, gender-swapped retelling of Cinderella.
Blurb from Cate Dean:
Sometimes, you have to create your own happily ever after…
Elle Summers spends her days taking care of her stepmother and stepsisters, but she is secretly working on her escape. With the help of her best friend, she plans to act her way to freedom.
When she auditions for a local production, her life is turned upside down by entrepreneur and producer Henry Winters. He needs a new leading lady for his Broadway production, and he wants her. He sweeps her off her feet and to the Great White Way, where she finally has her chance to shine.
But in the whirlwind of her new life, she forgets one thing – her stepmother and stepsisters.
While she starts to live the life she’s always dreamed about, they are plotting a way to bring her home. And if their plan works, Elle will fail – in a way that not even a fairy godmother can fix.

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Once Upon the Longest Night Blitz

Once Upon the Longest Night
Publication date: December 21st 2018
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance

The longest night. A vampire’s delight.

The winter solstice, a time of birth and rebirth, life and death, waning light and rising darkness. A time when those who flee the sun and crave the taste of blood find their greatest solace.
But one never knows what the longest night might hold.
Once Upon the Longest Night, a collection of adult paranormal romances, features eight novelettes of lovers and their battles against one of the greatest legends of our time: the vampire. A 15th-century seaman and the love of his life come face to face with a vengeful manjasang. In ancient Rome, a hunted priestess captured by a loyal centurion offers her aid to the enemy. With the help of a handsome Royal courier, a reluctant Romanian princess braves the curse flowing within her noble blood. Danger awaits when a vampire in the far reaches of North Dakota must endure the lethal cold to protect the woman she loves. And in a future New York, a broken general returns home for the Longest Night Ball where he meets a young male witch who might change his life forever.
This anthology combines vampire mythos and affairs of the heart with the sacred symbolism and magic of the winter season.
Sit back and let us tell you a tale. Welcome to the Longest Night.
Heat levels: Sweet to erotic.

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SNEAK PEEKS:

From His Last Battle by Sara Dobie Bauer:
Story Blurb:
Suffering from PTSD, vampire general Devlin Frost returns home from the war on Lycans and attends the historic Longest Night Ball. Here, royal witch Elijah Crow must choose three immortal suitors to compete for his love and power. When Devlin is shockingly chosen as one of the three, his immediate attraction to the young witch coaxes him into entering the fray, but this battle is for more than Elijah’s love. The broken general might also win back his ruined heart and bruised soul—if he survives the night.
Excerpt:
Everyone knew Westwyck Coven threw the best Longest Night Ball. Devlin had been there before, six years prior, before heading off on another successful tour to battle the Lycans in Africa. Ever since they’d butchered all the humans on that continent, the werewolves had been trying to invade upon the rest of the world.
He’d only been home for a matter of weeks and had yet to remember how to be normal, although “normal” was difficult to quantify within the bounds of fae high society. As a soldier, the aristocracy frustrated Devlin. He’d spent hundreds of years fighting bloody battles with wolves, yet it was the wealthy that scared him most—with their passive-aggressive posturing and sickly sweet smiles. At least werewolves came at him with teeth bared. Now that he was back in New York, it was impossible to know who wanted to be a friend and who wanted him dead.
And, there was the matter of the posadh.
Some royal witch had apparently just turned eighteen, and as per custom, she was forced to choose three possible vampire mates to compete over her for the duration of December twenty-first’s darkest hours. Deflowering a virgin witch gave vampires increased power—whether that be physical, influential, or financial. That power could last upward of one hundred years, so competition was famously fierce. At least one of the three “suitors” usually ended up dead. It was a disgusting business but part of fae high society. The union benefited vampires, but it also granted witches a vampire’s immortality, ensuring the secrets of magic lived on and on, all part of the treaty’s give and take. Devlin wanted nothing to do with it. Already, he missed the war.
To rectify his unease, he had wandered away from the grand ballroom an hour before. He now perused the quiet back hallways of Westwyck Estate, far from the sound of an impressive all-witch orchestra that played Christmas carols arranged as waltzes and tangos. He sipped a rich mixture of blood and sweet red wine from a crystal goblet as he strolled, taking in the mansion’s interior. In homage to ancient tradition, electric lights had been dimmed for the night, replaced by tall, gilded torches standing at intervals down the endless hall. Their dancing flames cast flickering shadows on the walls, creating what he assumed should be a sensual mood. Instead, he thought of battles long past, bloody fangs in firelight. As opposed to terror, the memory afforded perspective. He would much rather have been at a twilight fight than surrounded by the cultural complexities of a fancy ball.
On the walls, papered in forest green, hung massive portraits of Westwyck witches who’d come before—men and women who’d probably died long before the treaty. For all he knew, vampires had killed some of them. Magic and blood fae hadn’t always been buddy-buddy.
He was leaning forward, almost nose-to-nose with the painting of an ugly witch named Galahad, when a hidden door sprang open to his right. A blood-soaked Lycan lunged with jaws wide.
Devlin vaguely heard his wine glass shatter. He punched the monster once in its gaping jaw, twice beneath its hairy ribs, then unleashed his own fangs, prepared to tear the monster’s throat. But a bright green light flashed through the hall, momentarily blinding him. He didn’t notice the pain until his back slammed against a wall, and he melted to the floor.
He curled in on himself, moaning. He hadn’t been hit by a spell like that in… Never. He had never felt such power in his long, long life. He tried to stand, ready to fight more and more—fight forever if he had to—but a tall, dark shape pointed a glowing finger in his face.
Eyes unfocused, Devlin at first thought the tall creature looming above him a phantom until it said, “General Devlin?”
He blinked and tried to swallow around the lingering pain rising from his gut. He tasted blood, but at least pain allowed a little clarity.
Devlin sought his werewolf adversary but saw nothing more than a heavyset thug with a bloody nose, groaning on the floor ten feet away. And the phantom wasn’t a phantom at all but a man.
Though young, he held the bearing of someone who knew how to own a room. Despite being thin and in possession of such delicate features as to appear feminine, he held his shoulders up and back, his chin high—like a soldier bracing for battle. In an all-black suit, the witch was all the more ominous due to his glowing green pointer finger, still directed at Devlin’s nose.
“I’m sorry.” Devlin pressed the heel of his hand to his throbbing temple. “I thought…” The words solidified in his throat. War had followed him home.
After his last tour—when he’d started seeing imaginary enemies everywhere—he’d been forcibly sent home to New York. The doctors said the delusions would stop once away from combat. They said to give it time. Get married. Get settled. Find happiness. But what did doctors know about being a soldier?
The phantom lowered his glowing hand and spoke over his shoulder. “Jesus, stop moping, Lucius. Some bodyguard you are. Clean yourself up.”
The injured “bodyguard” swore and shoved to his feet before disappearing through the door hidden in the wall, leaving Devlin alone with the witch.
Devlin stood slowly—no sudden moves with this witch around—and eyed the man warily. “You don’t seem like you need a bodyguard.”
With a cocked brow, the witch shrugged a slender shoulder. “I don’t, but my mother insists.”
Hand no longer glowing, he reached up to touch the long scar on Devlin’s cheek.
Devlin caught his wrist and squeezed, feeling a powerful pulse radiating into his palm. It tempted him far more than it should have. “Don’t be rude,” he said.
The witch smiled, and Devlin instantly read the question glittering in his eyes: Or what?
Hand still in Devlin’s grip, the witch’s dark eyes drifted over him, taking in the navy blue uniform and cornucopia of medals over his heart. “The great general.” A hint of admiration warmed his voice. “My grandfather used to tell stories about you. But you’ve been gone.”
Devlin still held the witch’s hand. He couldn’t seem to let go—or, perhaps, he didn’t want to. He swallowed hard, realizing how long it had been since he’d stood close enough to smell desire in someone’s blood. He smelled it now. “Only six years,” he said.
“That’s a long time. To me.”
“It would be.”
Devlin couldn’t keep from studying the witch more closely. He had the tender skin of innocent youth, the unbridled passion of a boy on the cusp of manhood, and the eyes of a fearless soul. It was almost too much. Too tantalizing.
Finally, Devlin forced himself to let go. He busied his hands with straightening his suit. “Are you even legal?”
The witch touched his wrist where Devlin’s grip had been, as though he’d felt the heat between them, too. On an exhale, he pushed black curls behind his ear and stared at Devlin, who found such scrutiny unnerving. He would have sworn the witch saw straight to the depths of his dead, empty heart. Based on Devlin’s reputation, the witch should have been scared; instead, he tilted forward, closer. He was recklessly confident for a man his age. But more than that, this magic fae carried something akin to fire beneath his skin.
And Devlin wanted to be burned.

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