Tuesday, June 30, 2020

Fireborne by McKenzie Hunter blitz

McKenzie Hunter
(Raven Cursed #1)
Publication date: November 1st 2019
Genres: New Adult, Urban Fantasy

My magic isn’t just a curse – it’s an addiction. I crave it the way some people crave chocolate. But, chocolate doesn’t kill – my magic does.

I’m Raven Cursed. When I borrow magic from someone, they die. That’s always been the case—until I met my client, the devilishly handsome and enigmatic Mephisto. He has his own brand of unique magic and a mysterious past he’s determined to keep to himself.

He knows that I’m the one to call anytime a curse goes wrong, a magical object is lost, or a rogue supernatural needs apprehending. So he offers a trade. He’ll give me his magic, and in return, I accept a job from him.

It seems like a simple deal until all hell breaks loose. We have to team up to stop a god from unleashing destruction upon the city. It leaves me to wonder: can I battle a god with the devil at my back?

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Other books in the series so far:


“She’s not what I expected,” Ava said in French. “She’s younger and more unassuming. I expected someone more menacing. Especially after the stories you told me and what I heard in passing. I was looking forward to meeting her, but it feels anticlimactic. She’s underwhelming.”

Anticlimactic? Underwhelming? I came in with a bag of weapons and accessories; what else did she want? Me stomping into the room, a sword strapped to my back, blades sheathed on each leg, and dual wielding Glocks? Dark-blue jeans and a black long-sleeve shirt was a respectable outfit. It didn’t scream total badass the way my leathers did, but I had no plans of being dragged across gravel today. Did she want me to mug her, growl like a rabid dog, hand out lollipops and slaps to everyone as I passed them? Maybe I wasn’t her image of a retrieval specialist—I really did like that title—but I was far from anticlimactic and underwhelming.

I shrugged off her comments. I couldn’t believe I cared what she thought. If I arrived in a fluffy sweater and a tutu, what did it matter as long as I got the job done?

I kept my face neutral so they wouldn’t suspect I could understand them. Spending most of my childhood at Madison’s home ensured I spoke French, although I wasn’t as fluent as I would have liked. It became a private joke in the family, that the more French spoken, the thicker Madison’s father’s Irish brogue became. On several occasions, she would grin at her father and speak French with an Irish enunciation. That he didn’t think it was as amusing as we did only increased our enjoyment.

“She’s not a merc, she’s a woman of many talents, but retrieval is her specialty,” Mephisto said in French.

True, I did a little of everything. If it made me money, I would do it. But I couldn’t put “I’ll do anything for money” on a business card or website because the calls and responses would get lascivious pretty fast. Jack/Jane of all trades didn’t work either because it cued more strange calls. People would be surprised what some considered a trade. So I kept it simple. Technically I was a bounty hunter. Merc sounded too ignoble. I operated in the many shades of gray of the human and supernatural system, but I didn’t want to advertise it. You call yourself a merc and people assume you skated right past the gray areas and went wading in the dark. Sometimes I had to, but it was never my first choice.

“That’s the beauty of her. She’s not flashy. She’s unassuming and her abilities make her tactics unique and noteworthy. That works in her favor. I assure you she’s skilled and quite impressive. After all, at this moment she’s pretending she doesn’t understand us, when clearly she does.”

My head stayed down looking at the paper, refusing to confirm his allegation. After several more minutes of looking over the contract, I looked up and feigned confusion over Ava’s scrutiny of me. Ava’s voice softened as she said something about her statements being rude before effortlessly slipping into another language that I couldn’t place.

Once I’d finished marking up the corrections to the contract, I walked over to Ava, whose presence was pleasant, although her eyes held hints of displeasure at being underwhelmed by me.

Tough. I’m not here to entertain you with a dog and pony show.

Author Bio:

McKenzie, as a child, discovered that her life could be a whirlwind of adventures by simply opening a book. To this day, reading is still her favorite activity. She has a fondness for fantasy and mystery, which is probably why she writes urban fantasy.

When McKenzie isn't working on her next book she is usually binge-watching paranormal and comedy shows, maintaining her title as "favorite auntie", or trying to create a tasty low-calorie pizza. McKenzie loves to hear from her readers. Feel free to contact her via her website, Facebook, or email.

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A Queen’s Pride by N.D. Jones

A Queen’s Pride

Feline Nation

Book One

N.D. Jones

Genre: Urban Fantasy

Publisher: Kuumba Publishing

Date of Publication: June 26, 2020


Number of pages: 220

Word Count: 71,524 (appx)

Cover Artist: Ravenborn Covers

Tagline: Revenge Is Best Taken with Claws

Book Description:

Lies. Murder. Vengeance.

For centuries, humans descended on shifters' lands, killing and claiming. They devoured all in their path--gold, God, and glory their battle cries. From the flames of destruction on the Zafeo continent, two nations emerged--the human territory of Vumaris and the feline nation of Shona.

No more wars.

No more bloodshed.

Eight decades of peace.

For eighteen-year-old Asha, traveling to Vumaris with her parents, lion alphas of the Kingdom of Shona, should've been a simple matter. Recommitting to an eighty-year-old peace treaty between their countries should've been easier still. Yet, greed and corruption know no boundaries of time and place. So when a group of mercenaries converges on Sanctum Hotel, hellbent on kidnapping Asha and assassinating her parents, her family trip turns into the bloodiest night of her life.

Will Asha lose those closest to her heart--her parents and Ekon, a young bodyguard she loves. If so, will she forgive her enemies or seek divine retribution?

Only time will tell, and it's running out for Princess Asha of the Kingdom of Shona.

Asha flipped
from one television station to the next, her mind more on the way Ekon had made
her body feel than on finding a show for them to watch before Mafdet took over
the post and sent Ekon to his suite. While Zarina had raised Asha to speak her
mind, she had also taught her to do so with forethought and care. Zarina may
have a tendency to shock people, but it wasn’t because she hadn’t calculated
the impact of her words before uttering them. But her mother had yet to teach
her how to curb her thoughts when her body wanted to do the talking for her.
Foregoing the
television, she clicked it off and dropped the remote control onto the couch
cushion beside her. She ached in places she wanted Ekon to touch. If she were
alone in the suite and in her bed, she’d close her eyes, slip her hand inside
her panties and—
Knock. Knock.
Opening eyes
that had closed of their own volition and dropping the hem of her dress she
hadn’t consciously lifted, Asha sat up—embarrassed and breathless.
The knock came again.
Asha stood.
Waited. A Shieldmane would announce himself, even Mafdet who had a key to the
suite. Her parents would call, if they required something of her, expecting
Asha to come to them, not the other way around.
By the time the
third round of knocking sounded, Asha had moved closer to the door, scenting
more than the human on the other side.
“Miss. Miss. Are
you inside? We have an emergency. We need to evacuate this floor.”
The man knocked
again--hard and urgent.
Peering through
the peephole, she saw a tall man dressed in the same uniform she’d seen the
front desk workers wear. He appeared both anxious and impatient. If there was a
fire or gas leak, the man’s emotions were justified. Asha and Ekon needed to
get out of there.
She unlocked and
opened the door. Mistake. Asha stepped backward, and the human stepped forward,
shutting the door behind him.
A gun she hadn’t
seen through the peephole pointed at her.
“Don’t scream.
Don’t fight. If you follow my directions, you won’t get hurt.”
If he didn’t have
a gun leveled at her stomach, Asha could’ve misinterpreted his smile as a sign
of kindness.
“You’re making a
“No, I’m making
the world better for humans.” Gun hand steady, the man who clearly wasn’t a
hotel employee, scanned the outer room of the suite. “Is someone in here with
you? A guard?” Green eyes tracked up and down her body. “Yeah, as pretty as you
are, there has to be a guard nearby. Where? Bedroom? Bathroom?”
Asha wouldn’t
tell a lie, only to be caught in one, but she also wouldn’t reward the human’s
threat of violence with the truth.
“Fine. I’ll take
your silence as a yes.” He drew closer, blond hair pulled back in a
shoulder-length ponytail Asha would rip from his scalp if given an opportunity
to strike. “We’ll just wait right here for whoever is in that other room to
come out.”
They waited. It
didn’t take long since Ekon had already been in the ensuite for five minutes.
Asha knew why he’d made a quick escape. She hadn’t been toying with him when
she’d asked to see him naked. She’d very much wanted to feast upon his body …
and with more than her eyes.
The door to the
ensuite creaked open.
The human shoved
the barrel of the gun against her ribs, his breath smelling of cigarettes when
he whispered in her ear. “I knew someone was in here with you. You’re too
important to be left alone. But didn’t your parents ever warn you about opening
doors to strangers?” His other hand found one of Asha’s curls and twisted it
around his finger. “I told them I could get you to open the door for me. It was
the uniform, wasn’t it? No need to answer, little girl. Now, let’s see who came
to play.”
Ekon appeared in
the living room, having reached them on soundless feet. If not for the creaking
door, the human would’ve never known he approached. As it was, though, it was
Ekon who was taken by surprise.
Asha saw the
moment her gentle boyfriend morphed into her deadly Shieldmane. His eyes
darkened, eye teeth lengthened, sharpened, and his fingernails transformed into
long, curved claws.
Ekon stalked
toward Asha, his focus on the gunman.
In a swift
upward movement, the human pointed his handgun at Asha’s head. “Calm down,
kitty, or I’ll splatter her brains all over this white carpet.”
Ekon halted.
“That’s good.
Real good. Put those fangs and claws away, friend.”
“I’m not your
friend. If you want to make it out of this room alive, you need to get that gun
away from her and leave.”
“Yeah, no,
that’s not going to happen. She’s why we’re here. Where we go, she goes. You’re
the one I don’t need.”
A lion roared,
and Asha had never heard a more beautiful sound.
“That would be
my father.”
The roar was
followed by gunfire, then what sounded like all-out war in the hall.
“Fuck! Fuck!
What in the hell are those guys doing?”
fighting my parents, which means they’re dying. If you give Ekon your gun, you
won’t have to die with them.”

About the Author:

N. D. Jones, Ed.D. is a USA Today bestselling author who lives in Maryland with her husband and two children. In her desire to see more novels with positive, sexy, and three-dimensional African American characters as soul mates, friends, and lovers, she took on that challenge herself. Along with the fantasy romance series Forever Yours, and a contemporary romance trilogy, The Styles of Love, she has authored three paranormal romance series: Winged Warriors, Death and Destiny, and Dragon Shifter Romance.

Guest post by N.D. Jones
Title: A Hero's Guide to Making His Heroine's First Time Special 
By N. D. Jones, USA Today Bestselling Author

My name is Ekon Ptah. I’m twenty-one-years old and bodyguard to Asha, heir to the Kingdom of Shona. At eighteen, Asha is not only untried as a political leader, but she has also never taken a lover. I won’t lie, while my experience isn’t much, I’m glad Asha has never been with someone else. However, Asha has made it known she wants me to become her lover. The thought thrills yet frightens me. Claiming the virginity of a young woman is a responsibility I do not take lightly. 
I want to guarantee Asha’s first time is special. So, I did what any intelligent hero would. I asked for help from bestselling paranormal romance authors. Instead of giving me a tome to read, which I feared they would because. . . well, they’re authors with a lot to say about love and sex, they narrowed their suggestions to ten helpful tips. Asha is going through a lot right now, so there hasn’t been time for sex and romance, although my love for her has never been greater. When she’s ready—truly ready—to take our relationship to the next level, I’ll make her first time as special as it deserves to be—as special as the woman. The queen of our fierce pride of lions.

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Nightmasters by Loran Holt

Doubles Talk Book 1
General Fantasy
Date Published: June 30
Publisher: Acorn Publishing
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Kelgan Defthand is used to being top dog at the Academy of Magic where he
is Senior Apprentice Mage. Compared to his peers, he’s faster, more
skillful, and well aware of it, but when he finds himself beset by fearful
voices that come in the night, his confidence is shaken.
Adding to his worries, Kelgan is summoned to the headmaster, Sargal’s
presence; it looks like he’s really in trouble. But to his
bewilderment, he finds he’s being sent on a “mission” with
two very hostile-seeming aristocratic twins, Neroma and Nevander Di
Upon embarking on this mission with the twins, Kelgan soon realizes the
world outside the cloistered Academy is a bit different than he imagined.
First of all, there seems to be women doing magic! Secondly, he’s not
the only one hearing voices.
Following a strange compulsion, Kelgan and the Di Nerrills find themselves
seeking out the source of the voices, hoping to put an end to it.
The fateful journey tests Kelgan’s underdeveloped skills to the
limit, and could come at an unbearable cost to both to him and his
companions. Once Kelgan accepts the challenge of Magehood, there’s no
going back.


The work went swiftly. Two flame-throwers—in spite of the concerned voices, Ezrael insisted on being one of the carriers. “Cain’t do better, I jes’ stand and let ’er rip.”

And two drones. Cal looked far from satisfied, but Kelgan assured him they would work for recon, as well as something else. He refused to explain the something.

“Crows, you want to use crows?”

“They’re smart, and I’ve placed a homing spell on them.”

“What’s the plan?”

“Don’t have one.”

Cal groaned. “It’s going to be like the tavern owner. We just walk in and say, ‘We’re back to save the world.’”



Cal shook his head in wonder. “They even shook our hands.”

Kelgan repressed a giggle. “Just a touch of persuasion.”

“You spelled them.”

“As I said, just a touch.”

“I keep forgetting you’re not me.”

Kelgan eyed him quizzically. “That was an ‘interesting’ thing to say.”

Cal shifted his feet, looking uncomfortable. “Let’s get busy.”

Laden with their hastily assembled equipment, they rejoined the rest of the group, who paid them no attention. So busy with their toys, the two had completely missed the combined outward gaze of the others. Turning their heads, they followed the line of sight and drew in simultaneous breaths. The enemy, who had evidently watched all, was well ahead of them. The red-and-black army stood at the ready—seeming to number in the thousands. Knowing that could simply be illusion did not reassure them. At the forefront hovered the sorcerers, wearing robes that trailed off behind them into mist and gave them the appearance of black thunderclouds. Kelgan was sure that was no illusion.

“Uh,” he said stupidly.

Only Neroma responded, swinging her head in their direction just a bit. “They wait.”

The fur of her voice blanketed him for a moment, leaving him short of breath.

He shook his head to clear it, saying, “Well, let’s not disappoint them.”

Without another word, he directed a concentrated blast of energy to the first rows of the army. Those turned out to be real, at least, as they transmogrified into twinkling atoms, which then fell like raindrops onto the now-scorched earth.

A gasp arose from the facing soldiers. For a moment, they quailed visibly. The brief flash of triumph Kelgan allowed himself was cut short by the nearly instantaneous return blast from the younger sorcerer.

Even aided by Neroma and Nevander, Kelgan barely managed to divert the energy back onto the facing army, thereby taking out another two or three rows.

No time to be cocky, he thought, that was nearly fatal.

He fired off another blast. This time the opposition was ready—as one, the soldiers dropped to their knees, and the energy sailed over their heads to knock off a corner of the gloomy castle.

However, they failed to notice Cal, who was now in command of his deadly flamethrower. A low charge, directed just above the ground, caught the red-and-blackers by another unpleasant surprise. Closing his eyes to the charred corpses that now littered the ground, he paused only when he had to refuel.

Too easy, again, too easy, too easy, beat in Kelgan’s head like a drum solo. He glanced behind him. Ez was slumped over the now empty goat-cart, and Teri was staring in horror at the now empty uniform of her sister, Cenci.

 About the Author

Recently retired from a job as a university professor, and looking for a
diversion in sunny Southern California, Loran Holt did what any Southern
California does – took up writing, of course. Feeling that sword and
sorcery fitted her personality admirably, she set her sights on that genre.
Nightmasters is the result, and her first work of published fiction, but she
is already the published author of two books on the Silent Film era, with a
third on the way. Recently

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Three Strikes by Allana Walker

My Review:
Three Strikes by Allana Walker is the first book in the Demon Disciples Series. It is also the first book I have read of hers. I am really not totally sure how I feel about this book as you will see in this review. Let me start with the language in this book, I never did figure out exactly where this book was set at, but by some of the language in the book I'm not sure it was set in the USA, I mean we just do not talk that way. Jake in the book does commute back and forth to New York a lot for work though. 

The book is written in first person alternating chapters. There is a chapter from Daria's prospective then one from Strikers. A few of the chapter endings and beginnings are confusing. They do come back around but they take you out of the moment when it switches between Daria and Striker. 

I guess I should add trigger warnings too. There are suicide attempts, domestic violence, actually lots of violence period. Attempted murder, murder, kidnapping, graphic sex scenes, and tons of fowl language. This is a very dark read. With a lot of the triggers happening at the hands of Striker I do not get why anyone would think these 2 are a perfect match. 

I personally did not find myself in love or even like with any of the main characters in this book. Daria seriously needs a therapist, and Striker needs a bullet between the eyes. 

In the book 17 year old Daria ends up at the Demon Disciples Clubhouse with her friend Jess who is dating one of the members. As she is trying to get away from one of the bikers who is pawing at her she runs into Striker's room. He basically rapes her.  

Later she finds out she is pregnant from that one night. She tries to tell Striker but is told to go away by another biker at the Clubhouse gate. Fast forward 10 years. Striker is out of prison, Emily the baby born from the one night stand is now 9. Daria married her best friend Jake and has passed Emily off as his since her pregnancy was confirmed, at his request. Daria and Emily run into Striker at the ice cream shop, after 1 look Striker knows she is his. This is where the story turns very dark. The things he does to Daria while demanding his right to spend time with his daughter is just almost to much to bare. If it had of been me I would of taken my daughter and been long gone. This is no where the end of this book but I do not want to give to much away. 

Everything about Daria's life seems dark and she never stands up for herself really. She allows physical violence, it's almost like she enjoys it. She would rather be beat on then to open her mouth and answer a simple question. And to keep going back to a person who has abused you so badly is just beyond my grain of thought. 

This book does end with a cliffhanger of sorts as there will be a continuation of their saga in book 2. I am not dying for this second book personally though. I just cannot fathom more of the happenings in this book in the next one. 

Marauder by Bella Di Corte

Bella Di Corte
(Gangsters of New York, #2)
Publication date: August 7th 2020
Genres: Adult, Romance, Suspense

He stole my heart out of revenge.

There was one thing I always thought was mine to give: my heart.

I never imagined a marauder would steal it out of vengeance—vengeance that had nothing to do with me. His greatest enemy happened to be the man in love with me, and somehow I became nothing but a pawn. I was no damsel in distress, though. More like an archer, ready to battle.

And my target? The marauder himself.

Cashel “Cash” Kelly.

Kelly might have been as gorgeous as he was ruthless, but he had no idea what I’d do to steal it back. Or better yet, get even.

She was determined to keep what was mine.

They say hearts can’t be stolen unless they’re willing to be. Tell that to the man everyone on the streets called “the marauder.”


Because by the time I was through, Keely Ryan’s heart would be mine. And my enemy’s? As good as broken. Trouble was, the archer was precise with her aim, and her arrow was pointed at my heart.

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Author Bio:

Bella Di Corte has been writing romance for seven years, even longer if you count the stories in her head that were never written down, but she didn’t realize how much she enjoyed writing alphas until recently. Tough guys who walk the line between irredeemable and savable, and the strong women who force them to feel, inspire her to keep putting words to the page.

Apart from writing, Bella loves to spend time with her husband, daughter, and family. She also loves to read, listen to music, cook meals that were passed down to her, and take photographs. She mostly takes pictures of her family (when they let her) and her three dogs.

Bella grew up in New Orleans, a place she considers a creative playground.

She loves to connect with readers, so don’t hesitate to email her at if you’d like to reach out.

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Fake Play by Carla Swafford

An Atlanta Edge Hockey Romance Novel
Sports Romance
Release Date: June 30, 2020

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Connor Ellison, one of Atlanta Edge’s best wingers and biggest prankster,
is given an ultimatum by the coaches and the PR department. He must stay
married until the end of the run for the Cup or be available for
Lily Jones wants nothing to do with the insane demand. But he convinces her
the best decision is to play along. If they remain married and pretend to be
in love, he offers to save her family’s ice rink from bankruptcy. Anyway,
it’s only until the end of the hockey season. Then they can go their
separate ways.
Easy-peasy. No way will they go to the finals. No way will they truly fall
in love.

About the Author

Carla Swafford loves romance novels, action/adventure movies, and men, and
her books reflect that. And that’s not all, she’s crazy about hockey, and
thankfully, no one has made her turn in her Southern Belle card. She’s
married to her high school sweetheart and lives in Alabama.

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Midnight Temptation by Shari Nichols

Hollow Coven

Genre: Urban Fantasy
Publisher: City Owl Press
Date of Publication: June 30,
ISBN: 1949090647
ASIN:  978-1949090642
Number of pages: 274
Word Count: 68,500

Tagline: A witch and a vampire
must work together to take down the ruthless head of a human trafficking ring.

Book Description:

When tarot card reader Gillian
Howe hosts a supernatural speed dating event, she’s hopeful to discover her
chance at love. Making the perfect match is her passion.

Too bad she can’t find one for
herself. A chance encounter with a wealthy vampire soon finds her plunged into
a secret society of trancing, blood bonds, and human escort rings. She’ll need
help to survive, but the vampire detective is the last person she wants...even
if he is scorching hot.

Garrett Mulroney’s sire tried to
force him into a life of debauchery, but he chose to uphold the law instead.
The fact that the one woman he can’t seem to get out of his lust-filled dreams
is at the center of his investigation doesn’t bode well. It's a good thing she
hates his guts, because it helps douse his growing desire for her and focus on
the case. But when Gillian’s cousin is kidnapped into the Du Sang Brotherhood,
she becomes the prime witness. Now they’re forced to put their differences
aside and go undercover by pretending to be a couple. The more time they spend
together, the more Garrett wants her in his life—and in his bed.

Will they be able to develop the
love and trust needed to take down the Brotherhood or become its next victim?

Suddenly, all
the hairs on the back of Gillian’s neck stood on end. Her whole body tensed.
The chatter and music became muffled. Her eyes flickered across the lobby in
search of who, or what, had caught her attention.
Then she saw
inches of tall, dark, and brooding stood at the front desk. Detective Garrett
Mulroney? What the hell was he doing here? Seeing him again after all these
months sent a jolt of shock rippling through her.
His gaze locked
with hers, and for a moment, she forgot to breathe. They both stood there,
staring at each other. It was as though he could see beneath her armor, the
kind she wore under the little black dress.
The word
handsome didn’t even begin to describe him. Mythological titans like Adonis and
Poseidon came to mind, males so stunning, they couldn’t possibly be real. But
then she thought of other words too, like arrogant, brash…controlling…she could
go on.
Mulroney crossed
the lobby with a confidant gait, his long legs eating up the distance between
them in a few easy strides. Her heart hammered in her chest with every step.
Every female
head turned to catch a glimpse of the vampire. The closer he got, the more her
body became hyperaware of his presence. He kept his thick head of dark hair
short on the sides and longer in the front. The cut showed off the angles and
hard lines of his face. Sexy stubble darkened a square jaw, and he looked every
bit as dangerous as she remembered. Long, and lean, Gillian could make out the
ripple of sinewy muscle beneath the jacket of his grey suit. In the past, she’d
always been attracted to the artistic types. So, there was no good reason why
she was drawn to this rough-hewn alpha.
But Goddess help
her, he was magnificent.
Laughter drifted
from the bar, and that’s when she realized she was still standing on a chair,
gawking at him like some lovesick schoolgirl. She went to step down and her
foot slipped out from one of her strappy sandals. Before she could fall
sideways onto the marble, two strong arms wrapped around her waist and caught
her in midair.
When she looked
up and into Mulroney’s ice-blue eyes, her heart gave a little flutter.
Apparently, the legends about vampires having preternatural speed and strength
were real. But then, as his gaze filled with a kind of raw, primal desire, she
had no doubt the steamy ones about them possessing a certain sexual allure also
rang true.
lucky you didn’t break your neck,” Mulroney whispered close to her ear and set
her on her feet. “What are you doing here tonight, Miss Howe?” The deep rumble
of his voice did funny things to her insides.
“I could ask you
the same question.” Gillian grabbed the scissors and scotch tape off the table,
then shoved them in her black beaded bag. “If you must know, I’m working,”
Gillian snapped. Ever since the prickly detective had been assigned to
investigate the robbery of one of her clients, a local antique dealer, their
paths had collided on more than one occasion.
Mulroney’s eyes
did a slow sweep of her from the tips of her three-inch heels to the top of her
head. Goosebumps instantly spread across her flesh. Gillian wanted to squirm
from the flagrant perusal, but remained still, refusing to give him the
satisfaction. Why would she? After all, he had tried to ruin her life. “Interesting
work attire,” he murmured.
Her hands
clenched at her sides, fighting the urge to tug on her dress again. “I’m sure
you didn’t walk over here to comment on my choice of clothing. To what do I owe
the unexpected pleasure?” she asked with a healthy dose of sarcasm.
“Trust me, this
wasn’t planned,” he said in a gruff voice, refusing to look her in the eye.
Gillian couldn’t
help remembering the day he and his partner had showed up at the coven.
Peppering her with questions and unwarranted accusations, they’d invaded her
safe space, conjuring that too familiar lash of shame, and reminding her of the
days when the neighbors used to call the cops to keep her parents from an
all-out war.     
He kept his
hands stuffed in his pockets, his stance casual, but he wasn’t fooling anyone.
There was no mistaking the predatory way he kept checking out the people
strolling by as only a cop would. She followed his gaze as it took in every
detail, restless with intensity, before finally landing on their banner. “Is
this a private fundraiser?”
She nodded, not
in the mood to elaborate. “Are you here in an official capacity? What’s the
matter, no real criminals on the streets tonight?” Or maybe this was personal
and he was meeting someone. He’d worked with Alex on several cases, and
according to Willow, he was a confirmed bachelor, not that she had inquired or
 “A quick word, please, Miss Howe. We need to
talk.” The object of her unhealthy obsession ignored her questions and reached
for her elbow, pulling her off to the side. His touch seared through the thin
material of her dress, leaving a hot flush along her skin. At five-foot-seven,
she wasn’t exactly short, but even in her heels, he towered over her.  
“Hold on. I’m
kind of busy right now. What’s this about?” Gillian demanded, catching a whiff
of his masculine scent, a blend of sandalwood and clean laundry. She fought the
urge to sigh and glared at him instead.
“You shouldn’t
be here.” Mulroney glanced over at the couple’s tables scattered with rose
petals, floating candles, bowls of heart-shaped chocolates, and the Lawrence
Charity placards. He turned back to face her and scowled. “I want you to leave.
“Excuse me?” His
words knocked Gillian off-center and before she could process them, an
attractive female vampire with dark hair pulled in a tight ponytail walked up
to Mulroney and placed a hand on his arm.
 “It’s time. We need to go.” A surge of
irrational jealousy coursed through Gillian’s veins like battery acid. 
For a split
second he hesitated, his gaze still fixed on Gillian, and she sensed some kind
of inner battle raging inside him. Then he gave her a curt nod and walked away.
Her heart sank.
approached and crossed her arms over her chest. “What was that all about?”
Not sure what to
make of their twisted interaction, or of Mulroney’s ominous words for that
matter, Gillian sucked in a quivering breath and let it out. “No idea.”

the Author:

Shari Nichols grew up in a small
town in Connecticut where haunted houses, ghosts and Ouija boards were common
place, spurring her fascination with all things paranormal. Ever since she read
her first Barbara Cartland novel, her life-long dream has been to write sexy,
romantic stories. When she’s not writing, she’s reading, going to the gym, or
hanging out with family and friends.

Shari’s a member of Romance
Writers of America, New Jersey Romance Writers, Liberty States Fiction Writers
and Fantasy, Futuristic, and Paranormal Romance Writers. Shari’s new
series,   Ravens’ Hollow Coven, is an
urban fantasy with City Owl Press.

Awards:  Beverley Award, Golden Leaf Finalist, Best
Book Finalist by a New Jersey Author, HOLT Medallion Finalist, Literary Titan
Silver Medal Winner.