The Brutal Time Christina Bauer (Angelbound Origins #6) Published by: Monster House Books Publication date: October 29th 2019 Genres: Fantasy, Paranormal, Young Adult
“I love the Angelbound Origins world and just can’t seem to get enough of it!” – The Avid Reader
As the Great Scala, Myla Lewis is the only being who can move Purgatory’s souls to Heaven or Hell. It’s a big job. Too bad Myla goes through assistants faster than a hot knife through brownies. Not that it bothers her much; Myla’s always been a solo fighter.
Then comes the problem of the fading angels. Millions of Heavenly residents are dying. According to a prophecy, the only way Myla can save them is by traveling back in time, meeting King Arthur, and creating her own knights of the round table. The catch? Doing so might end the after-realms in a bloody demonpocalypse.
Yipes.
Myla and her main squeeze, Lincoln, aren’t afraid of taking a few chances (in between kisses). But with so much at risk, the stakes may be too high, even for them. And the biggest challenge of all? Finding those knights.
Because Myla Lewis doesn’t play well with others. At all.
“These books don’t just capture your attention, they straight up demand it. Christina Bauer has created a fascinating and unique world that you do not want to miss out on.” – Bookhalolic Brittany
Lacing my fingers with Lincoln’s, I
guide my guy off the Arena floor. The moving spotlights make it easy to slip
off unnoticed into a nearby archway. Then it’s a matter of navigating through
the back corridors until we reach small stone room. There’s not much to speak
of here, outside of some hooks on the walls and a few large wooden trunks.
I step into the center of the space
and twirl. “Here it is. Changing room central.”
Lincoln slips off his jacket and sets
it onto a nearby trunk. “Did you come here after we met?”
There’s a certain predatory gleam in
my guy’s eyes that I’m enjoying very much indeed. “Oh, sure,” I reply. “I had
lots of matches after we first met.”
My gaze lands on a particular trunk.
Memories appear. My face turns eleven shades of red.
Lincoln notices the trunk in question
as well as my blush. He steps up to the trunk and damn, my fantasies were all
correct. The lid comes to just the right height at his waistline.
Lincoln runs his fingers over the
lid. “And what is there about this particular piece of furniture, may I ask?”
“No point telling you that I don’t
know what you’re talking about, huh?”
“None.”
“Well, I might have thought about
you, the trunk and, um, things.”
Lincoln steps closer. “Things?”
“I’d put on my dragonscale suit and wonder
what would happen if you came into the dressing room or something.”
That predatory look returns to
Lincoln’s mismatched eyes. It makes me feel all woozy inside. Not a bad thing.
“I love this story. So you’d be …
what?”
I gesture toward the trunk. “Sitting
here.”
Lincoln scoops me up and sets me
right atop the trunk. “Like this?”
“Uh-huh.”
A knowing grin rounds his mouth. “So
I could stand before you like this.” He rests his hands on my knees. His skin
is all warm and rough at once. Little by little, Lincoln slowly guides my legs
apart and presses my skirt up to my hips. Then he steps between my legs.
“Almost like that,” I say
breathlessly.
At last, Lincoln presses himself
against me. At this angle, his hardness hits all the right places. “Do you mean
this?” he asks.
Fire sparks inside my core.
“Exactly.”
“I can see the appeal.” Lincoln
slowly trails his hands over my body. Wherever he touches me, there’s an
electric zing of desire. Leaning in, he stops when his mouth hovers a breath
above mine. “You know what I want.”
“I do.” I lick along the seam of his
lips. “And I’m calling in my prize.”
Author Bio:
Christina Bauer thinks that fantasy books are like bacon: they just make life better. All of which is why she writes romance novels that feature demons, dragons, wizards, witches, elves, elementals, and a bunch of random stuff that she brainstorms while riding the Boston T. Oh, and she includes lots of humor and kick-ass chicks, too.
Christina graduated from Syracuse University’s Newhouse School with BA’s in English along with Television, Radio, and Film Production. She lives in Newton, MA with her husband, son, and semi-insane golden retriever, Ruby.
Be the first to know about new releases from Christina by signing up for her newsletter: http://tinyurl.com/CBupdates
I have been a collector of all things Unicorn for some time now, so when I saw the opportunity to read The Unicorn Key by J A Culican, I had to jump on it. I’m prancing with joy that this is a series because I want more.
I love a story with unicorns, but there are so many other supernatural and mythical creatures to fear and love, that I barely had a moment to catch my breath as the threesome set off on a dangerous quest to find the Diamond.
An unlikely duo appears at Freya’s door. Opal is a young ‘girl’ with pink and purple hair and a gruff attitude, making it hard to like her. Jet is a young ‘boy’ with blue hair and a lighthearted demeanor, making it easy to like him.
Freya’s grandfather had a stroke and had not spoken in years, but when the duo arrived on their doorstep, he told her she must join them on their quest to find the Diamond and save them from the Darkness that is taking over the land.
River volunteers his services in reading the map, which is in a code they cannot decipher. Can he be trusted…or is he after the Diamond for himself.
Trouble is sure to find them as they enter the woods, travel to distant mountains and come face to face with Baxil. They will encounter many supernatural creatures and have others join in their quest.
Unicorns are not extinct, just very well hidden. Like elephants and rhinos in our world, they are valued for their horns.
I love the Diamond twist.
The action ramps up as their journey nears its end. The characters grow, develop, and show their true colors, while forming a family of sorts, with a little romance thrown in for good measure.
The world building is magical, supernatural, and the more I read, the more I got lost in it, worrying, fretting, and wondering how the Diamond would save their world.
I love this quote:
I would never make the mistake of letting my fear stop me again. Life was too fragile, too uncertain to risk never getting the chance again.
Their quest is over, but there will more to the story and I look forward to being there for it.
I voluntarily reviewed a free copy of The Unicorn Key by J A Culican and J A Armitage
4 Stars
GOODREADS BLURB
I was born with a secret. The problem was, I didn’t know it…
Not
until two weirdoes turned up at my door asking to speak to my
grandfather. My grandfather that had been mute since a stroke five years
ago. When he uttered his first words in years to them asking us to find
Cassiopeia, I found myself leaving the comfort of the only home I’d
ever known and embarking on a quest with the strangest couple of people
I’d ever met.
As elusive as they are strange, I only followed
in the hope that whoever Cassiopeia was, she would help my grandfather.
However these two are looking for a rare diamond and my own quest means
nothing to them. They are hiding secrets of their own, secrets that
neither is willing to share.
Thankfully, they enlist a
navigator to help them through the perilous terrain, a local bad boy and
money grabber only interested in one thing…and no it isn’t me.
With
the three of them dead set on finding the diamond and me out to find
Cassie, tension is high, and it’s not helping that the dark fae know we
are looking and will stop at nothing to keep hold of the diamond. Add
unicorns, mages, evil gryphons and dragon shifters into the mix and soon
my life takes on a terrifying turn, which nothing has prepared me for.
The
Unicorn key is an electrifying first in series by the USA Today
Bestselling authors who brought you the Dragon Tamer series. Realm of
Light and Fire is guaranteed to have you hiding under your duvet with
your flashlight, turning the pages.
Scroll up and one click now for the adventure of your life.
ABOUT J A CULICAN
J.A. Culican is a teacher by
day and a writer by night. She lives in New Jersey with her husband of
eleven years and their four young children.
J.A. Culican’s inspiration to start writing came from her children and their love for all things magical. Bedtime stories turned to reality after her oldest daughter begged her for the book from which her stories of dragons came from. In turn, the series The Keeper of Dragons was born.
Blood Rose Rachael Vaughn Publication date: November 22nd 2019 Genres: Adult, Urban Fantasy
Fleeing her past and a dark tragedy that haunts her every waking moment, Rose settles for a crummy retail job in a crummy town in the middle of Indiana. Her one solace – the sprawling forest behind her apartment complex – leads her down a dizzying path into a topsy-turvy world where Rose escapes her painful memories…but finds herself at the center of a dangerous plot.
A mysterious (and frequently unconscious) stranger, a technicolor landscape, and a sinister but charismatic leader pull Rose deeper into an unexpected adventure…where nothing is as it seems.
Follow Rose on her journey through this perilous but beautiful land, as she wonders if she can save it…or herself.
The stranger was back before long, and Rose didn’t miss the flash of relief on his face when he saw her standing where he had left her. He carried with him a bowl of water, steam rising in tendrils from the surface, and an assortment of other supplies. When he reached her he continued on past, beckoning her to follow, and Rose turned to see him heading toward a small seating area near the door. A low, backless sofa ran along the wall, each end lifting to curl in a tight spiral. An equally low table stood in front of the sofa, and two matching chairs framed either side.
After a moment of hesitation, Rose took a seat on the sofa, and the stranger placed the bowl and supplies on the table before lowering himself hesitantly to sit beside her. He gave her a questioning glance as if asking for permission, and Rose offered her wounded palm. She kept quiet, not wanting her barrage of questions to break the trance she felt from his calming influence. The man chose a soft cloth from the pile on the table, dipped it in the warm water and began to gently wash the blood from her hand. She winced when the water stung the cut, and the man grimaced in apology.
As he worked, the lace cuff fell back from his left hand and the sleeve of his jacket rode up slightly. Rose caught a glimpse of something thick and dark winding around his arm. It appeared to have the texture of an old scar, thick and ridged, but jet black and stark against his pale blue skin. It grew thinner the further down it reached, tapering out into thin tendrils at his wrist, leaving the skin of his hand smooth and untainted. Rose felt his hands falter in their movements against hers, and she looked up to see him following her gaze to his wrist. He self-consciously pulled the cuff back down into place, covering the black lines, and Rose hastily looked away.
“Sorry,” she mumbled. He didn’t respond, only retrieved the cloth and began wiping blood from her other hand. Once both were clean, he let the cloth fall into the now pink-tinged water, and took a bandage from the table. He paused for a moment, before setting the bandage back down unopened.
“You must have a lot of questions,” he said softly, not quite meeting her eyes.
A startled laugh escaped Rose’s throat. That was the understatement of the century. He gave a soft chuckle and she realized she had voiced the thought aloud.
“Yes, I imagine that must be true.” He turned to face her directly, and his eyes met hers. She was alarmed at the intensity in their purple depths, and his voice was urgent when he spoke again, the words coming fast.
“Listen, I’ll explain everything, I promise. But you’re not safe here, and I need you to trust me.”
Rose opened her mouth, but he continued before she could respond.
“I know we’ve only just met, but I promise I won’t let any harm come to you. There’s so much you need to know, and so little time, and I—” he paused, seeming to exert quite a bit of effort to gather himself. He took a deep breath and lifted his eyes to hers. “Will you trust me?”
His gaze bored into her, and without the slightest idea why, Rose found herself nodding. Anything to get that look of desperation off his face.
He seemed to wilt, relief coloring his features, and he held out his hand for hers again. She placed her wounded hand in his, and he flipped it over, palm up. Lifting his other hand, he gently placed his index finger against the gash in her palm, and without warning, a burst of light emanated out of his fingertip where it met her skin.
Rose felt strangely detached, as if she were watching this happen instead of actually experiencing it. She felt no pain, only a bright, comforting warmth that grew to encompass her whole hand. He traced his finger slowly down the length of the wound, the bright light following the path of his finger, and Rose watched in surprise as the line of her blood began to glow bright, the same iridescent glimmer she had noticed when she’d touched the handle of the door what seemed like ages ago.
Rose watched in wonder as the stranger lifted his hand, the light fading. The shimmer faded from her palm as well, the wound sealing in its wake.
“There,” he said, releasing her hand. His voice sounded faint, its resonance muted. Rose looked up, sensing something was off, and found his face pale, nearly white, the silver lines practically nonexistent.
“Are you okay?” she asked, suddenly worried for this man—creature—she didn’t know, but he simply nodded and waved off her concern. She looked down at her palm again in amazement, a thin faded line all that remained of the red gash.
“What was that?” she asked, “How did you—” But her attention was caught quite suddenly by his hands, which were clutched tightly in his lap. He held his right hand wrapped protectively around the left, but past his grip Rose could see the black lines moving on his skin, creeping slowly beyond the edge of his cuff and onto the back of his hand, tendrils snaking across the pale flesh there.
Author Bio:
Rachael Vaughn is the creative brainchild of husband-and-wife writing duo, Laura Rachael Black and Trenton Vaughn Hockersmith.
Laura is the wordsmith of the pair, and a bona fide dabbler. With interests in everything from mosaics to wood carving and playing the hammered dulcimer, there isn’t much that doesn’t appeal to her insatiable need to create. When she isn’t writing, Laura stays busy as the co-owner of Firefly Tattoo–one of Indianapolis’s premier tattoo studios–where she is also a full-time artist. You can check out her professional tattoo gallery at https://www.fireflytattoo.com/f88479627.
Trent acts as the bookends of the writing process. He serves as the team’s world-builder and plot developer on the front end, and acts as an editor and proofreader (plus the ultimate voice of reason) on the backside. His educational background in English and psychology help him craft vibrant worldscapes and compelling, authentic characters. When not mired in the trenches of world-building, Trent enjoys reading, playing video games, and practicing jiu-jitsu and tai-chi.
The team shares more than a pen name. Their home outside Indianapolis is also inhabited by their daughter, Seva, and Helena, the world’s fluffiest cat.
The eerie cover of Beneath London’s Fog by Ilona Caldwell makes me think of Jack the Ripper and ghosts. Are you creeped out yet?
Jonathon has made himself a prisoner in Raven Hollow Manor, along
with his daughter, Holly. He lost his love, Anna, but her ghostly
presence lingers.
His past is coming back to haunt him when a serial killer goes wild in the foggy nights of London.
He is able to transform himself and I loved it. He becomes a cat, a
Great Dane, or a mist in the night. Being immortal allows him to see
without being seen. He is very protective of Holly and struggles to
allow her some freedom. He is easily able to ‘spy’ on her, assuring her
safety. After all, he knows first hand the monsters that lurk in the
shadows. His oasis is by Anna’s gravesite. He reads Poe and Robert Frost
to her.
Holly knows that he is an immortal. Authors have the freedom to
create the immortal they want to portray, and I love Ilona Caldwell’s
version.
I begin to wish for his happiness, for him to move on and create a new life, without Anna.
Enter…Walter Deverough, a detective on the hunt. I wonder….I feel we’ll be seeing a lot more of him.
Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned and SHE will scorch the earth with her need for revenge.
We, also, have Leland…a hero to the end.
Fast paced. Suspenseful. A vampire of a different color. Great world
building as I pictured him walking the streets of London, damp and
weary. Ilona Caldwell draws pictures with her words.
I voluntarily reviewed and ARC of Beneath London’s Fog by Ilona Caldwell.
4 Stars
Beneath London’s Fog Iona Caldwell Published by: FyreSyde Publishing Publication date: October 30th 2019 Genres: Occult Fiction, Ghost Story, British Literature
Jonathan is the immortal master of Raven Hollow Manor – a decrepit mansion riddled with superstition, murder and restless ghosts. Beneath it lies a restless malice.
Its previous owner driven mad, violently kills his guests with a rusted ax, creating the perfect venue for Jonathan to seclude himself in a prison of his own device.
When the streets of London begin to run red with blood; the bodies exhibiting disturbing signs and baffling wounds, the identity of the killer remains elusive to police.
The bodies are just the beginning of Jonathan’s troubles. A mysterious letter accusing Jonathan of committing the murders appear, raising suspicion in the police. Hidden beneath the mangled bodies, Jonathan soon realizes he is being forced to face demons he thought died in a forlorn past he attempted to escape.
One thing Jonathan knows for certain: He must deal with the demons of his past if he is to survive his future. Not only him but those he has come to love as well.
For fans of Jim Butcher, Stephen King, Darcy Coates and Nick Cutter.
I want it known before this tale begins – I am not a hero but a villain. I want no sympathy from whomever reads this recalling of my story; no mourning for the tragedy that befell my life. I am not an innocent man but a sinner forced to face the ravaging demons and ghosts of his own creation.
My story began as many do – a lie, a fire and murder. One of my kind murdered the woman I loved in the coldest of blood in one of history’s darkest times at the behest of a possessive noble.
After a run in with him in Nottingham, I soon found myself fleeing for my life from hunters, framed for a murder I had not committed.
Forgive me, I am getting ahead of myself.
Let me begin where this part of my story took place.
A bloody civil war ravaged London followed shortly by the Great Fire in 1666. A glorious time for me and those like me to take advantage of the chaos and remain hidden in the shadows.
I managed to pursue the one responsible for nearly getting me killed two centuries prior to the plague which befell London before the fire.
Within the shadows of the flickering flames of St. Peter’s Cathedral, I struck him down and departed the city, thus avoiding my demise.
I had yet to escape him, however, when his vengeful spirit devoured the souls of the innocent in a mad bloodlust.
Though greatly injured, I managed to drive his spirit to my new home Raven Hollow Manor in London, imprisoning him in stone coffin in the crypt beneath it.
Peace resumed in my life and nobles of all kinds enjoyed lavishly hosted parties within the halls of my estate.
Unfortunately, the short lived splendor at the hands of the hauntings filled the ears of the locals and my beloved home decayed into a tangled web of blood-filled rumors and superstition.
My once glorious halls became infested with dust, its crystal chandeliers covered with cobwebs, their spiders fat on the insects buzzing around the decay and mold-covered wallpaper.
Yet, there I remained as it proved a decent place to not only contain my greatest sin but served also as a castle of solitude.
The tides of time swept by in a cacophony of modernization and the movement from superstition to things only mortal science could explain.
I still needed to venture into the city, not only to feed but also to purchase other items needed for everyday living.
It wasn’t until the winter of 1910 that my silence would be disrupted in the form of a girl named Holly, a young street urchin accused of theft. I took her with me after using a bit of “persuasion” on the local officers to let her go.
They did not need to know where I would take her and she soon grew into a wonderful messenger on my behalf. She became a rather attractive young woman with bouncy blonde curls who kept me company with stories of what went on in the city.
I am sure, at one time, she became infatuated with me. It did not surprise me. To mortals, my kind held a certain allure they found difficult to ignore. I ended her infatuation quickly following a stern talking to and dousing with cold water.
One day, while in my labyrinthine garden, Holly came to me in tears.
When the people of London learned where Holly lived, the townsfolk dubbed her a practitioner of black magic.
One day, I found Holly sitting on one of the marble benches in the garden, sobbing. I picked a flower and put it in my daughter’s hair, sitting next to her beneath the statue of a praying angel.
“You need not worry about them, dearest. Mortals are always quick to place labels on what they do not understand.”
Holly sniffled and sobbed, wiping her nose and offering me a smile. “But why do they avoid this place, Jonathan?”
“Mortals fear what they cannot comprehend. Pay them no mind. You are a wonderful young woman,” I purred, brushing a blonde curl from her face.
The words appeared to have placated her as she smiled and joined me in a moonlight stroll through the garden.
***
Around midnight, after dinner with Holly, I dismissed her to bed. Once she departed, I sought out sustenance in the city.
A dense fog rolled in due to the cool winter weather and the recent days of rain.
Combined with the darkness of the streets and alleyways, I managed to meet a young working woman on the corner and wooed her into joining me for a walk to the park. As with other women, I made sure she understood I respected her body with gentle caresses and loving words murmured into her ears.
Once I placed her deep under my spell, I kissed the tender flesh of the woman’s throat and exposed shoulder, thanking her for her gift.
My fangs pierced her flesh, earning a moan of pleasure as her body surrendered its precious life force without any significant damage. Her body pressed against mine, her moans increasing with pleasure at my kiss.
I preferred this method to those of many of my other brethren who tore their victims apart during a feeding, choosing power to subdue instead of sexual allure.
When signs of weakness began manifesting I released my hold, picking her up after licking the small puncture wounds, my saliva healing them, leaving no marks or scars.
To assure she received care, I took her to the nearest hospital and deposited her on the steps without anyone noticing.
As always, I used hypnotic suggestion to erase her memory and leave her with a pleasant dream.
During the wee hours of the morning, I tended to enjoy the calls of the birds and the chirping of the crickets to help relieve the burden on my mind.
Not a soul roamed the streets near the bridge where I liked to sit and write poetry or read a book.
In the midst of the silence, a horrifying shriek caught my attention, almost startling me.
My pupils narrowed to those one might see in a viper or a cat. I let my body dissipate into the form of a black mist, hovering over the city in search of the source of the scream.
I found it in the shape of the body of a mangled man.
The whites of his eyes consumed most of the portion of the glossy orbs in his skull, mouth gaped open mid-scream.
I knelt before him, my own brows furrowed in frustration at the recognition of the familiar puncture wounds on the man’s throat. This cannot be. No other has hunted here in centuries.
The disturbing find made something clear.
Many of my kind preferred not to hunt in one place occupied by another of higher status, or in another’s territory for that matter. We changed due to the growing number of human hunters who would kill any of us they came across.
Despite the city’s size, my reputation often kept others out of my hunting grounds, for which I remained grateful.
This new kill had been malicious.
If I allowed such behavior to continue, it could draw the attention of the hunters or the local police to my home.
Whomever the responsible party, I needed to locate them and have a word with them or kill them if necessary.
My eyes closed, a heavy sigh drawing up from within my lungs. I placed my fingers over the man’s eyes, using a gentle touch to close them. “Forgive whichever of us did this to you. You did not deserve to die in such a horrific manner.”
Searching through the pockets of his trench coat, I located his identification card and vowed to send some money and roses to his family.
Sounds of sirens and the calls of the corner watchmen announced the arrival of the authorities. I left them the man’s wallet so they could inform his family of their loss.
I lurked in the shadows listening to the inspectors scrutinizing the scene.
“Bloody mystery, it is. This is the second mangled body we found this week. One has to wonder if we might be witnessing the birth of another blighter of a serial killer.” One of the inspectors scratched his head beneath the dome shaped hat.
I recognized him as Bertrand Abrams, a well-known officer and one of the only men who aided Holly during her visits to town.
From his looks, one would expect him to hail from Scotland. A bushy mustache and stringy hair with the consistency of sheep’s wool held the color of fire. Dimples set into high cheekbones and a double chin made me smile. A portly belly betrayed his affinity for too many scones and perhaps Scotch.
He had been wrong. This death held no mystery. I merely needed to find the one responsible before it resulted in too much of a personal dilemma.
Following the release of the corpse to the medical examiner, I took the form of black mist and drifted back to Raven Hollow.
The beginnings of my night would be haunted by dreams of a past filled with love, vengeance and pain.
It would be filled with shining auburn locks and eyes the color of the fresh leaves of spring.
Author Bio:
Iona Caldwell is the lover of all things arcane, folklore, nature and magic.
She is the author of the British Occult Fiction, Beneath London’s Fog set to be published by FyreSyde Publishing October 2019. Her second title, Hell’s Warden is forecasted to release in February of 2020. When she’s not busy weaving worlds of the arcane and dark, she’s spending time out in nature. An avid lover of books, Iona claims her biggest inspirations are H.P Lovecraft, Stephen King, Neil Gaiman and Edgar Allen Poe.
She believes storytellers should tell the stories they want to tell. As such, most of her titles are stand-alone novellas she hopes will leave her readers immersed in magical worlds.
She is also an extremely active book blogger who will review primarily horror, suspense, supernatural thriller, mystery, and occult/gothic fiction.
Books from the Backlog is a fun way to feature some of those
neglected books sitting on your bookshelf unread. If you are anything
like me, you might be surprised by some of the unread books hiding in
your stacks.
An appaloosa horse is
the only eyewitness to a killing, a sack of Montana sapphires is
missing, and only Heaven knows the whole truth.
In “The Man Who
Fell from the Sky,” some themes of “Ghost” meet “The Horse Whisperer” in
this full-length, paranormal whodunnit mystery that is packed with
romantic suspense, danger, dark secrets and high spiritual stakes.
Cody
Bliss, angel detective, is assigned by Heaven to the mortal body of
J.R. Wilder, a paroled murderer, in order to solve his own previous
untimely demise and take care of unfinished business with Mariah, who is
unable to move on with her life until she knows what happened to her
missing husband.
Against the backdrop of a western Montana ranch
near Glacier National Park, and in the company of Mariah and her
tight-knit family, Cody (inside the body of J.R. Wilder) must solve the
murder mystery using forensic clues and the spiritual powers of an
angel. He must also yield to J.R., whose body he is using, as J.R. falls
in love with Cody’s widow.
This full-length novel’s compelling characters are all seeking truth and redemption. Only an angel detective can set things right, and the consequences for an entire family rest in his heavenly hands.
Angel detectives, a mix of the ghost and horse whisperer…what’s not to like? Sounds like a good one to me. How about you?
I have been reading and reviewing some books that authors have requested and they have been a pleasant surprise. Nightfall on New Babylon by Carmen Taxer and Richard Wheeler is one of these books.
Nightfall on New Babylon by Carmen Dominque Taxer and Richard T Wheeler is told from multiple character viewpoints. At times I found it confusing trying to remember who was who and what’s happening to them, but I do love my vampire stories, so I read on and I’m glad I did.
Things started falling into place. Characters are being exposed for who they truly are. Horrors arise and they are not only the vampire kind.
The women seem to pay the biggest price. As I learn more about the four main characters, I find their lives tragic and frightening. There is more going on than meets the eye and the ending set me up for wanting to know what comes next.
The setting seems like the time of Jack the Ripper in England, but I could visualize the street and ruins of Italy too.
Cliffhanger ending that hooked me.
I voluntarily reviewed a free copy of Nightfall of New Babylon by Carmen Dominque Taxer and Richard T Wheeler.
3 Stars
GOODREADS BLURB
Nightfall on New Babylon (Gaslight Vamp #1)
A Gothic Political Thriller Serial in a Victorian Vampire Horror Setting
In a city built on sin, the immortal Lords of Night move all the pieces.
New
Babylon is a city of sin, built on lies told over generations. The
inhabitants may think they are the masters of their own destinies at the
dawn of the Scientific Revolution, but as night falls on New Babylon,
the true Lords of Night once again move their pieces across the playing
field in a secret war for dominance – Devika Templeton is a girl who has
it all, including a nightly visitor; Roald Black has lost it all, but
the truth is even more painful than the loss will ever be; Dalla Arnesen
must rebuild her scuttled career, a tenuous feat in a city set against
her; and Victoria Campbell has a secret that she must share with her
rich suitor if she has any hope of escaping the streets.
Binding
all four together with strings of obligation and pain is House D’Asur,
the disgraced Lords of the Glass Manor – Those who would be Lords of
Night again.
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
Carmen Dominque Taxer: Author, artist, and sometime philosopher, Carmen Dominique Taxer was born in South Africa with familial roots across the globe. She began her career with early scribblings of the dark and twisted, and this love of dark Gothic Horror, and equally dark Romance, has only grown over the years. Her first love was vampires, and to this day she cannot write without the words pouring out in the shape of roses, blood, and thorny kisses. Carmen uses the presence of vampires in a fictional setting to give voice to the struggles and successes of humanity, painting a portrait of the world that is both dark and beautifully highlighted with love conquering death above all else.
She and her husband and co-author, Richard T. Wheeler, have constructed a universe of these vampires with the affectionate title of Sanguinem Emere. All of these stories take place in the fictional city of New Babylon, a melting pot of cultures, ethnicities, and desires.
About Richard T Wheeler: Richard T. Wheeler is the co-author of the Sanguinem Emere Gaslight Vamp novel serial and runs Dauntlesswriting.com, helping writers become authorpreneurs.
I was given an opportunity to read some of this anthology and I began at the beginning with Bulwark by Brit Lunden. The short stories/novellas are sold separately and to me they read as standalones. This is the third story I have read and enjoyed.
Bulwark is a small town, where everything revolves around football. I lived in Alabama for a while and they are some of the most avid fans I have every seen, so I can easily relate to this.
The Darkness by Brittney Leigh is written like a diary. from Sophie’s perspective.
Meeting Sophie, I feel, is going to be a real hoot. She did put a smile on my face early on, so I am eager to see what kind of trouble will seek her out.
And…it being Bulwark, I knew the trouble would be of a paranormal kind.
Secrets will be revealed, bodies will fall.
We have all the teenage angst of high school as these four kids will solve the puzzle of Billy Joe’s disappearance. It is the past clashing with the present.
The Darkness by Brittney Leigh is the eight book of the anthology. Though I have only read two others, I had no trouble enjoying this one. Fast reading with characters that are forever changed.
I voluntarily reviewed a free copy of The Darkness by Brittney Leigh.
3 Stars
GOODREADS BLURB
Bulwark- a wall or stockade that protects or sometimes hides the truth from the outside world.
Bulwark, a quiet town… or is it? Four best friends, Sophia, Scott, Chloe and Chris, are just trying to manage their senior year at Bulwark high school when Sophia realizes that her feelings for Chris are really meant for Scott. Before she can deal with that though, the four friends then stumble upon Bulwarks darkest secrets when a spell is cast on Bulwark High. Students have been disappearing and no one has any clues as to their whereabouts. With a town curfew set and parents on edge, the four friends decide to take things into their own hands. Will they break the spell, or will Bulwark High and the town be changed forever? Based on Bulwark, a paranormal thriller by Brit Lunden, The Darkness is the eighth volume in the multi-author Bulwark Anthology.
ABOUT BRITTNEY LEIGH
Brittney Leigh is gracing the Bulwark anthology as a debut author. She is a proud graduate of SUNY Old Westbury College, with a bachelors degree in Media & Communications. Gifted in singing, acting, and dancing, she finds her voice reaches its highest ground in writing. She resides in Long Island where the darkness of New York City comes to sleep.
Books from the Backlog is a fun way to feature some of those
neglected books sitting on your bookshelf unread. If you are anything
like me, you might be surprised by some of the unread books hiding in
your stacks.
If you could hear the
thoughts of every person for three blocks around–the regrets,
rationalizations, commercial jingles, the lies that hide what they can’t
bear to think—how could you ever trust anyone? And if you could make
them believe anything you wanted, how could you ever trust yourself?
Max
Renn is a legend of the Soviet mind control program, a genetic
experiment, the product of three generations of psychics bred by the
state for their power. Before his first mission, the Soviet Union
collapses and he disappears.
We meet him twenty years later in
the Everglades, keeping as far from people as he can get, until his best
friend–his only friend–is murdered and he is forced to assemble a team
of people like him to fight the international conspiracy behind the
murder.
“A dead-on thriller for the decade . . . . I can’t
imagine anyone reading this and not wanting more” — Thomas F.
Monteleone, author of the NY Times bestseller The Blood of the Lamb and
The Complete Idiot’s Guide to Writing a Novel
“Ted Krever has been a writer to watch, now he’s a writer to read. Do not miss MINDBENDERS.” -F. Paul Wilson
“Ted Krever is a great storyteller but more importantly, the stories he creates and writes are ones that I want to read. In this ADD era, where even e-mails are considered too long, Ted’s work commands my attention. It is definitely worthy of yours, too.” -David Leaf, biographer and award-winner writer/director/producer of such films as ‘The Night James Brown Saved Boston,’ ‘The US Vs. John Lennon’ and ‘ BEAUTIFUL DREAMER: Brian Wilson and The Story of SMiLE.’ (less)
I love the subject matter and have read more than one book about mind control and government programs. Add in the Everglades and this one was a no brainer.
Book Title: Come the Eventide by Chris Riker Category: YA Fiction / Adult Fiction, 330 pages Genre: YA Eco-Sci-Fiction / Fantasy Publisher: Lanier Press Release date: June, 2019 Tour Dates: October 14 to October 25, 2019 Content Rating: PG (There are mature themes, but nothing graphic or gratuitous)
MY REVIEW
An original and unique novel of life after the destruction caused by human. Humans, dolphins, and octopodes work together for survival. Told from all characters POV, whether human, dolphin or…
I love any books that relate to water and ecology and the creatures that live there.
Man’s inhumanity to man and everything else on the planet is nothing new. Nothing they won’t do to get what they want and the critters do hold grudges…so beware.
I was entranced, enthralled, disgusted and horrified, tense and frightened, hopeful and dismayed.
Man poisoned the earth and ecologies and species have been decimated and destroyed.
I didn’t see the twist in Chapter 14, but it makes perfect sense. And I love it. I read Come Eventide by Chris Riker in one sitting…because I had to know.
I read slower than normal, not wanting to miss a thing. I had to concentrate to follow and be surprised.
I voluntarily reviewed a free copy of Come Eventide by Chris Riker.
4 Stars
BOOK DESCRIPTION: A century has passed since the fall of
humanity changed the natural landscape. The oceans are poison, and a
fraction of Earth’s magnificent creatures remain. The only surviving
humans squabble over limited resources as they cling to a fragile peace.
Yet in this bleak landscape hope lives on in Earth’s other intelligent
life. It all begins when Septielle, a seven-armed octopod, has a vision
of a world restored—a world she will not live to see. Inspired by her
vision, a dolphin named Muriel shoulders her mission and enlists any
humans who will listen—including Anadare, a young islander with an ax to
grind against the oppressive ruling class of tourists turned
bureaucrats. An invasion of cannibalistic pirates complicates things as
they declare war on a world that rejects them.
As tensions rise to a crescendo,
islanders, tourists, and pirates alike must put aside their differences
to send Muriel on her greatest journey yet—beyond the sea, beyond form,
beyond time itself.
In his first novel, Chris Riker
conducts an opus in voce giocoso that grins at the inevitable, but
reminds us of the heart that all life shares.
Chris Riker is a writer, father, and
journalist. He grew up in Rhode Island and now makes his home in Georgia
with his wife, Ping. He has always loved books, from science-fiction
and fantasy to historical novels and biographies. Building on a
background in broadcast news, including a stint at CNN, he is now
focused on telling stories with strong characters and moral resonance.
His premiere effort blends a love for our beautiful Earth and her myriad
life-forms with a sense of wonder at our shared purpose and fate.
Books from the Backlog is a fun way to feature some of those
neglected books sitting on your bookshelf unread. If you are anything
like me, you might be surprised by some of the unread books hiding in
your stacks.
When teen psychic Dawn Christian gets involved with a fortuneteller mentor and two girls who share her mysterious talents, she finally belongs after years of being a misfit. When she learns her new friends may be tied to freak accidents in town, Dawn has an important choice to make – continue developing the talent that makes her special or challenge the only people who have ever accepted her. This novel is aimed at young adults, and at adults who enjoy paranormal YA such as the Twilight series, House of Night, and The Vampire Diaries series, Meg Cabot’s The Mediator series, or Lois Duncan books.
I love a good paranormal young adult story and when I saw they compared
it to the Twilight series, House of Night, and The Vampire Diaries
series, Meg Cabot’s The Mediator series, or Lois Duncan books, I thought
it was hard to go wrong.
