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Wednesday, March 6, 2019

Straight to Hell by Jane Hinchey


Everything you think you know is about to change.
My name is Lucifer. You can call me Lucy – I’m also known as the Devil and Satan, though why my idiot brothers came up with those nicknames is beyond me. I’m an Arch Angel and I run Hell. Yup, I’m the CEO.

Hell is easy. Hell runs like a well-oiled machine. Punishment befitting your sins is carried out and once your sentence is done, voilĂ , you get to go to Heaven. Simple. Easy.

Until suddenly there’s a blip on the radar. A breach. Some numbnuts on earth are trying to open a portal to another dimension. A very bad, very terrifying, very deadly dimension. So instead of my simple life in Hell, I end up earth side, where nothing is as it seems, looking for the soul-stealing monster, avoiding the grumpy angel sent from Heaven and finding out my brothers Michael and Gabriel are twats. That last part’s not true – I’ve known they were twats all along.

With an unexpected fondness for my new human friends as a distraction, and my demonic presence stirring up a shit show of epic proportions, all I want to do is go back to my peaceful life in Hell. But someone has to save the world. It may as well be me.


About the Book

Straight To Hell by Jane Hinchey
Series Hell’s Gate #1
Genre Adult
Urban Fantasy
Paranormal Romance
Publisher Independent
Publication Date
October 31, 2017
Purchase Your Copy Today!Amazon
Also Available On



Excerpt

“Ummm. Lucy?” Ashliel stepped in beside me, electronic clipboard in hand.
“Yes, Ash?” I knew she had a long list of requests, meetings, messages. As CEO of Hell, my days were busy. I’d built my torturous dimension to great heights over the last few hundred millennia. In the last two hundred years alone, attendance of lost souls entering Hell has risen over two hundred percent, and that number looked to be on the rise.
“There’s a man who wants his punishment of having a buzzard constantly pecking his eyes out to be lessened, a man whose memories have been wiped and he wants to know who he was, and a woman who wants to warn her sister on Earth about the afterlife.” She spoke fast, knowing my time was limited.
“Buzzard man, no can do. This isn’t a negotiation. His punishment was set when he entered Hell. He knows this. Deny future requests. Memory man…good point, how can he atone for his sins if he can’t remember them? See to it that his sinful memories are returned. Only his sins, mind you. And no to the woman who wants to warn her sister—they get plenty of warnings. It’s not like this place is a secret.”
Ashliel’s fingers flew across her clipboard. By the time we reached my offices, she was done. Before stepping out of the glass box I looked down, into the fiery pit where the most heinous of sinners resided. It was eerily beautiful from this vantage point. Sighing, I turned my back on the bubbling pit of fire and exited the elevator, stepping into the opulence of Hell HQ.
I greatly admired the skyscrapers on Earth and had modeled Hell HQ on them. Over two hundred floors, soaring high into the red and orange sky, built from gleaming black marble. My offices took up ten floors alone; the very top floor was my penthouse. Yes, I lived in luxury, but I damn well earned it. Running Hell was hard work, never a moment’s peace. And now this. A breach. It niggled me. Security was tight. It couldn’t have come from the pit; I was just there. Had it come from one of the cell blocks housed on the other side of Hell HQ?
I crossed to the floor-to-ceiling windows and looked out on the cells. Row upon row of fifty- story skyscrapers, all housing sinners. They spanned as far as the eye could see, each one providing different levels of punishment. Wingless Demons patrolled the streets, their black skin and red eyes clearly identifying them. Their winged counterparts took to the skies, massive wings spanning over twenty feet, soaring around and around the buildings. Who could escape this? That is if the breach had even come from Hell in the first place. Earth was my brothers’ responsibility. They were charged with watching over the humans. I was annoyed I was being dragged into it, yet I liked the humans. I didn’t want to see them destroyed by some other dimension creature. Not if I could stop it.
A ding on Ashliel’s clipboard caught my attention. I arched a dark brow at her.
“You have a delivery.”
“Probably from my brothers.” I sighed. Had they heard the news and were already poking fun?
“They might have sent something nice,” Ashliel suggested, ever hopeful.
“Knowing my brothers, I doubt it.”
Stepping through the glass doors into my office, I spy a huge gift-wrapped parcel on my sleek black desk. Here we go.
“Thank you, Ashliel. That will be all.” I waited for Ash to leave the room, then approached my desk cautiously. What were they up to? Gabriel and Michael were archangels like me, but when Father chose me over them to head up the Hell Division, to say the boys were a little prickly was an understatement. We hadn’t spoken in over a hundred years. Why now? Today? Were they connected to the breach? Did they instigate it? I wouldn’t put it past them. They’d do anything to see me fail.
Hoping I was wrong, and that maybe, just maybe, the box on my desk was an olive branch, I tore open the wrapping and cautiously opened the lid. Inside was a single piece of paper. On it was written the name, “Emily Barlow.” Who the hell was Emily Barlow? Was she a lost soul? I reached to pull the paper from the box, but the whole thing went up in flames. Great.
With a wave of my hand I put out the flames and cleaned the debris from my desk before crossing to the giant screen across the room, one so big that I had to stand in front of it, or if I preferred, recline on the leather couch a few feet away. I could split the screen into hundreds of smaller screens and monitor Earth and Hell at the same time if I so chose. This time I raised my hand and halved the screen, keeping an eye on my own dimension on the left, and scanning through files searching for Emily Barlow on the right. There were several humans with that name and I flicked through until one caught my eye.
There. Emily Barlow. Human. Alive. Her dossier flashed across the screen, a mini movie of her life so far. She was young, a teenager, seventeen and a high school student, blonde hair, blue eyes, pretty. She was a bossy little thing, liked to be involved in community events and social activities at school. She wanted a career in Public Relations or the Media. As I watched, the screen glitched, froze, then resumed. Emily was in a graveyard. Something was there with her. Something dark. I leaned forward, watching intently as Emily was clasped in a tight embrace, held for a matter of seconds, then let go. Glowing red eyes looked up, directly at me. Then it was gone, leaving Emily’s body on the ground drained of life.
The screen flickered, a brief moment of static, before settling again. This time I no longer saw Emily, but a man. He was sitting at a table, one hand resting on the table, palm up, and in the center of his palm a deep azure blue rock. He sent the message. Did he mean to send it to me I wonder? His eyes sprang open and he flopped back in his seat as if exhausted. I looked into his eyes, magnified the screen so it focused on his face. A very handsome face: strong jaw covered in a light beard, full lips that held my attention for slightly too long. I wondered what they looked like when he smiled.
Then I wondered…why am I wondering about his lips? Okay, seriously, he’s a human, I scolded myself. But it had been a long time since I’d…you know. Had any fun in that department. Maybe a dalliance with a human would take my mind off the stresses of running Hell. As much as I loved my job, I’d yet to have a vacation. I shifted my attention from his kissable lips to his eyes. A combination of hazel and gold, they were striking with their dark lashes. And the way he was looking directly into the screen, it was as if he were looking right at me.
Decision made.



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About Jane Hinchey


Aussie author JANE HINCHEY writes sexy, snarky, badass, paranormal romances and urban fantasy novels.
Living in the City of Churches (aka Adelaide, South Australia) with her man, two cats, and turtle, she spends her days writing fantastical stories full of dark sexy vampires, hot shifters, sexy aliens, jaw dropping demons, sinful angels, and magical witches – and while they can be snarky and swear a lot, they mean well and you’ll grow to love them. Honestly.
When she’s not in her writing cave she’s usually playing the Sims, Civilizations or something similar, binge watching Netflix or upping the ante in the crazy cat lady stakes. She loves to hear from her readers, so swing on by her website at http://www.janehinchey.com and say hi.
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AESOP by Michele Packard



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Thriller, Espionage
Date Published: July 2018

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Private contractor Matti Baker’s personal quest is to keep America safe. With unwavering loyalty, she was trained to assist government and outside agencies in identifying, locating, and eliminating individuals and nations that pose as threats to the United States. Baker navigates through assignments, that on surface, appear to have no connection. Ultimately Baker finds out that they are all intertwined and will trigger global destruction if not stopped.  While sacrificing to keep her family hidden and safe; Baker enlists the help of her best friend and closest colleagues to eradicate double agents.

Whether in Texas, California, the Middle East, or even the foothills of Montana, Baker finds herself in the center of world domination. She keeps her wits about her and those that are lucky enough to be in her inside circle. 



Praise for AESOP:

"Plenty of thrillers attempt to create spunky female protagonists; but AESOP excels in its gritty, first-person observational style. It will especially delight thriller audiences who like their action nonstop and their characters not just intelligent, but self-determined, driven, and sometimes edgy in their relationships with loved ones, superiors, peers, and the world.

AESOP is highly recommended and is head and shoulders above most thrillers featuring female operatives facing high-level threats and physical and mental challenges." - D. Donovan, Senior Reviewer, Midwest Book Review

"AESOP by Michele Packard is a fast-paced novel that introduces private contractor (Hit Lady) Matti Baker whose job is to find and eliminate individuals who pose a threat to America.  Packard has created a kickass heroine that possesses beauty, brains, cunning, guts and brawn. In this novel, Matti is out to stop some very bad actors, and the job is exasperating. She doesn't know it, but someone is out for her too. She has or knows something of importance that someone powerful wants very badly.  So sometimes she is the hunter, and at other times she is the hunted....

Packard likes to use events from movies to illustrate the action occurring in her story. A memorable example is when Packard uses Stephen King's scene of Annie Wilkes smashing Paul Sheldon's feet with a sledgehammer to convey what is happening to Matti when her abductor's interrogation goes to the extreme." - Texas Authors, December 2018


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Excerpt

Chapter 10 Road Trip



Double trouble.  That’s what we were. I felt like I was in Stripes, when he said, “There’s something wrong with us, something very very wrong.”  Damn, we were cute and funny.  I was so glad Bethany was meeting me.  I needed to unwind and get her perspective on things.  She met me on the runway and was looking perfect as always.  Bitch.  It really was annoying, I was not sure how she did it, but she always looked on point.  Just once, I’d love to see her all sweaty and in disarray.  



She came beaming up to me with a full perfect smile and a mimosa for us both in her hands.  “Here’s to however you fucked up to land us this gig, cheers.”



“Missed you too girlfriend.  May be a premature toast with this road trip.”



We boarded onto a G6.  Not a bad way to fly if you ask me.  The G6 was capable of going 7,500 nautical miles, taking you from LA to Melbourne, marketed as the fastest and most expensive business jet on the market.  It would be a little out of reach to make a direct flight to Afghanistan, but we were doing a stopover in London first for supplies, both fuel and ammo from our partnering friends.  Not sure who Freddy hit up for these sweet rides, but I liked it.



Bethany and I got situated and comfy with a drink as we took off.  I filled her in on Ramiz and everything I knew and didn’t know.  We plotted potential next steps and expectations.  We were two hours into the flight before she asked me the real question.



 “Well, are you going to make me ask or are you going to spill it?” she simply stated.



“What do you mean?” My way of avoidance.



“Two guesses and the first one doesn’t count.  Spill it. I want to hear about the Greek God you are obviously pining over.”



“Ohh, you want to talk about that little nugget,” I feigned.



“Well….”  I filled her in on everything.  We spent more time on this than we did national security, that was for sure.  After I finished wrapping up, and we bounced off pros and cons, she looked at me and said, “Well, not to sound like my momma, but what’s meant to be will and this too shall pass.”  Jesus, thanks for that.  With that, I went back and passed out from exhaustion.



By the time we got to London, Freddy had sent over what they deciphered from the bottle.  The label was just one coordinate etched multiple times all over the bottle.  The label was the key to the other coordinates, but they were still unable to unlock the true significance of it all.  It was like that movie with Jodie Foster and Matthew McConaughey in Contact trying to decipher some cosmic code.  We had coordinates for Iraq, Israel…and a few other “stans” as I called them (Kazakhstan, Pakistan).  Trouble was when you were being sent signals from all over kingdom come you tended to think the worst.  True terror was not necessarily physical; it was mental.  Fear will crumble people and nations.  



The phone was clean with only that one number which was traced to Turkey.  So, that dictated our first stop.  We were going to play cat and mouse and see if we could catch a rat.  



There were some beautiful women from Turkey.  Not a lot of black people though, so Bethany was going to have to be my earpiece for this part.  Women faced significant disparities in employment, religion and education along with being victims of rape and honor killings.  Honor killings were usually committed by male family members against female members for bringing dishonor to the family.  Could be for having sex outside marriage, denouncing faith, or because you got raped (probably by your brother…see note above).  Needless to say, this country wasn’t advocating for women’s rights.  To fit in, I donned a dark brown wig and dark brown contacts and covered up appropriately.  Didn’t want to look too nice, but at the same time, hoping someone didn’t want to tag team me in any circumstance.  



We were outside their capital, Ankara, in a little town called Pursaklar.  There were 19 condensed neighborhoods with various terrain.  Our target hadn’t moved locations in over 14 hours.  I was sure they had a contingency plan in case Ramiz didn’t return contact.  How much time they’d allow to pass was going to be the key to our next step.  



When I was in position, Bethany texted the following to our mystery pal: “Clear. Time for next step.”  We had argued what would tip them off and settled for this gamble.  We had no background or history of other communication between these two parties, so took risks

with sending anything.  Bethany had eyes in the sky and it showed only one heat seeking body in the building.  Didn’t trust if the little bastards were hiding under some tarp and didn’t want to go in blind. Better to force them out onto more neutral ground, if you could even say that, since they at least would have the advantage of the lay of the land.  



One, five, fifteen minutes passed.  Nothing.  Heat sensors showed little movement and finally no movement when reached 20 minutes.  Then no heat detected.  Damn, our hands were tied and I’d have to enter.  I prayed a quick Hail Mary, as I feared this perp booby trapped the place to blow.  I couldn’t bring my fav Colt, so checked the safety and silencer on the modified FNP90 that I was carrying under my traditional Turkish garb.  P90 was compact but powerful and futuristic for the time.  It has a unique top mounted magazine with high-velocity custom 5.7mm ammunition that fragments on impact and distributes kinetic energy to the target alone. It’s a beast.  I was starting to really like it.  I surveyed to ensure no additional outsiders casing the joint and Bethany confirmed no other heat images near.  In condensed cities like this, I found that hard to believe. Almost like they knew not to be around. Definitely gave me a squeamish attitude for entering.  I made my way to the door and tested it.  It was locked so meant I was going to have to force in and pray for the best if there was someone still inside waiting on me.  



3.2.1. Didn’t need full force to kick in this weak door.  No lights.  No movement.  Something wasn’t right, and that wasn’t just because I was in Turkey tracking down who knew what.  I cleared each room until I got to the last one.  Mattresses on floor, and cheap couches littered rooms. 

Sheer shades for window treatments.  This looked like a typical home.  Nothing stood out.  Relayed to Bethany to look for any movement outside of perimeter.  Back track quickly.  How did he get out?  Where was he hiding?  



As I headed back to front door, there was a door I didn’t originally see under the staircase. It had three locks on it. Suddenly, your typical house was looking not so typical. I slowly opened it as I inspected for any wirings or riggings.  As I opened, I saw the steps leading down.  No lights.  Bad feeling about this, made me think of Silence of the Lambs where Stallings enters down to the dungeon to see the freak dancing with his dong between his legs.  Needed to shake that visual out.  Tried to relay to Bethany but signal fading out as I entered down.  Turned on light mount on my P90.  It was bright enough to show me a path and would blind them from seeing me clearly and aide so they couldn’t take an easy head shot.  Nothing on the walls, it was literally a cave with a winding hallway.  Was it rigged, or just used as an escape route? Had to go slowly in case it was the latter.   Where was it leading, how long?  Easy to become paranoid.  



The hairs on the back of my neck were standing up.  Something was off.  All living things from complex mammals to single cell organisms instinctively respond to danger.  Our hearts pound, our palms sweat.  I turned off my light and stayed put.  Listening.  Nothing.  I slowly started backing up. I had a feeling I was about to pump 900 rounds down this narrow hallway and hope to hit more than the wall.  I was almost back to the staircase when I saw a small flicker of light growing.  Oh shit.  I turned to the stairs and took them up by three.  I was out the front door when the explosion underground went off. 

Felt like an 8.2 earthquake and the whole residence started to sink in.  I was high tailing it down the street with all kinds of shit falling from adjacent buildings.  Bethany was in my ear asking for status update.  WTF?  Do you not see the sunken building or billow of smoke?  People were out now wondering what was happening.  I now ducked and moved between buildings to make my way back, praising Jesus I turned off my light in time to be able to see what was coming.  



Perp gone.  Cave demolished.  House in ruins.  F’ me.  We didn’t have time and wouldn’t send units in to see what may or may not have been.  Plausible deniability. If they were sophisticated enough to have cave and ability to blow, there would be nothing left for us to go off of in a timely manner.  



Back to square one.  Well, at least this time, Freddy couldn’t complain about me killing anyone.  



Bethany and I spent the next 10 days globe-trotting and hitting the other coordinates only to come up with nothing.  It was a rope-a-dope.  


About the Author

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Michele Packard comes from a military family and worked tirelessly as a cable tv executive before staying-at-home to raise her three children. She has written in both the fiction and non-fiction genres, utilizing her experiences and wit to share stories with others. She is a frequent traveler with her husband and is the primary caretaker of the family's beloved labs.



Contact Links


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RABT Book Tours & PR

Tuesday, March 5, 2019

House of Madness by Sara Harris


House
of Madness
by
Sara Harris

Genre:
Paranormal Thriller

Can
You Ever Truly Put the Past Behind You?
Tim
and Adelaide Smithfield are haunted by memories of loss too raw to
forget, and too painful to remember. Their 11-year-old daughter,
Michaela, has her own set of sensory processing challenges, not to
mention an overwhelming sense of guilt that she might be at the root
of her parents’ problems.
The
sprawling ranch house on the outskirts of the quaint West Texas town
of Big Spring promises a fresh start for a young family on the verge
of collapse.
But
the house is haunted by memories of its own… and a guilt that West
Texas’ famed thunderstorms can’t wash away.












Sara
is a mother of four, animal lover and advocate, and conservationist.
Little House on the Prairie, Dr. Quinn Medicine Woman, and Lonesome
Dove are among her favorite shows/movies and books. Sara holds her
B.A. in History and is the author of the historical romance series,
An Everlasting Heart, from 5 Prince Publishing and recently debuted
into the children's book realm with Chunky Sugars (5 Prince Kids),
written for her own chunky baby.









Follow
the tour HERE
for exclusive excerpts, guest posts and a giveaway!






At War With a Broken Heart by Dahlia Donovan


At
War With a Broken Heart
by
Dahlia Donovan

Genre:
M/M Contemporary Romance


What's
the perfect recipe for an emotional MMM romance?



One
autistic coffee shop owner, one morose mug maker, and a mostly
cheerful police detective.



Fie
Morogh Russell goes off to war with a broken heart and returns with a
shattered spirit. He hermits away in Bideford, Devon, making mugs,
with his service dog, Haggard, for company. Post-traumatic stress
turns every memory into a minefield, and life is dismal with one or
two rare exceptions.



Davet
Heuse drags his younger brother to Bideford for a new start. Both
autistic, the two siblings have fought hard to enjoy freedom by the
seaside. While Davet runs a coffee shop from his tiny house, his
brother pursues his dream at university.



Detective
Sidney Little has transitioned from military service to the police
force easily. His unrequited crushes and his estranged father are the
only points of frustration in his life. He hasn't quite figured out
how to deal with either problem.



When
a tragic accident brings Davet's world crashing down around him, can
Fie and Sid help him through the pain of loss?



In
this May-December romance with a twist, three men struggle through
one obstacle after the other to somehow find themselves in love on
the other side.
























Dahlia
Donovan wrote her first romance series after a crazy dream about
shifters and damsels in distress. She prefers irreverent humour and
unconventional characters. An autistic and occasional hermit, her
life wouldn’t be complete without her husband and her massive
collection of books and video games.





Follow
the tour HERE
for exclusive content and a giveaway!





His Dirty Demands by Fiona Murphy






Title: His Dirty Demands
Series: Dirty Billionaires #1
Author: Fiona Murphy
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Release Date: March 5, 2019





Blurb


Three billionaire brothers: Cesare, Enzo, and Dante
Sabatini have everything except the one thing money can’t buy. Three big
beautiful, women Alicia, Bethany, and Chloe will teach them the ABCs of love.
Follow these couples as they negotiate the riskiest deal of all, falling in
love.

It’s hard to believe
when I get the call: an offer to work for one of the Sabatini brothers. Cesare
and Dante head a real estate firm that buys, sells, and owns some of the most
spectacular real estate in Chicago. Dante Sabatini is the youngest of the brothers,
and even though he’s an arrogant manwhore he doesn’t come close to the a$$hole
level of the oldest Sabatini, Cesare. While I work for Dante, Cesare is in the
office across the hall—and too close for comfort. I’m not sure what misfiring
synapse has my stomach flipping a thousand times a minute or my skin hot and
tight when the man is around, but I’m doing my best to ignore it. Even if I
weren’t a virgin, I’m very aware getting involved with Cesare Sabatini would be
a complete disaster.
Until the moment I
find out Cesare is having the same problem. Seriously? The insanely gorgeous
billionaire wants me? I’m a plus-size woman who has grown numb to the insults I
have heard about my weight. I’m far from numb at the idea of throwing caution
to the wind and giving in to the dirty demands Cesare whispered in my ear.
Then I get a call I
never thought I would have to deal with. My little sister is being blackmailed.
I need twenty five thousand dollars or her future goes up in flames. I’m
borrowing it, I’ll put it right back.
When Cesare finds
out, he demands twenty-five days and nights of my body. Only once I’m in his
home and life, twenty-five days isn’t enough—I want forever. But what does
Cesare want?












Purchase Links

99c for a limited time!!

AMAZON US / UK / CA / AU

Coming soon to Apple Books





Excerpt

I’m barely
settled into my chair when an instant message comes through. It’s from Cesare.
All it says is:


My office


    Why the hell does my stomach
drop then twist painfully? Is it about me giving my notice? It has to be—he
can’t know, not so soon. I look to Hannah, who is engrossed in the report she’s
writing, doing that mumbling thing she does as she’s typing. Heart pounding, I
push up from my chair then make my way to Cesare’s office. I knock, I hear him
say come in. My palm is sweating as I turn the knob then push the door open.
He’s leaning back in his chair. For the first time in what feels like forever
his eyes are meeting mine. They give nothing away.
       “Yes, sir?”
     “Have a seat, Ms. Jeffries.” He
gestures to the chair in front of his desk.
     Slowly, I sink to the edge of
the chair. “Do you need something?” I feel it now: a heady satisfaction
surrounds him. He smiles, it’s blinding, it’s scary. The hair on the back of my
neck goes up.
    “Maybe I should be asking you
that. Do you need something, Ms. Jeffries? Was there a difficulty in your
personal life?” Oh god, my heart stutters. “It must have been an enormous
difficulty to run into twenty-five thousand dollars. I take it the matter has
been resolved?” His tone is of concern, of solicitation, with just the faintest
twinge of sarcasm. I don’t respond. I can’t. “The matter has been resolved, has
it not?” I don’t move an inch. “Ms. Jeffries, I asked you a question. The
reason why you needed twenty-five thousand dollars, has it been resolved?”
        I nod, just once. I hate the
tears that pour out of me as I blink. It’s clear he’s not happy about them
either. “Ms. Jeffries, this isn’t a speeding ticket where you’ll get away with
a warning if you turn on the waterworks. You stole twenty-five thousand dollars
from my company, from me.”
       “I gave it back. I only needed
it to make a trade. I can pay you interest if you want it.” The words come out
of me before I can swallow them. “Bethany was being blackmailed. If I didn’t
pay fifty thousand dollars her entire future, everything she worked so hard for
was going to get flushed down the toilet by a malicious brat.”
       His eyes narrow. “You made a
trade with that money? Are you crazy? In this volatile market, you could have
lost everything.”
      I shake my head. “I’ve made this
trade three years running every quarter and it’s never gone against me. Your
twenty-five thousand was safe—I made even more this time around. I’m sorry, I’m
already quitting. Isn’t that enough?” I plead.
        He cocks his head as he studies
me. His eyes run over me slowly, so very slowly. It’s back, the heat I haven’t
felt in so long, burning me from the inside out. “No, it’s not enough, not
nearly enough. I’m going to need twenty-five thousand dollars’ worth of
recompense in the form of you.” A plain manila folder is pushed toward me.
“Option one: I pick up the phone and make a call to the police and give them
that file that details every step of your removal of funds, unapproved, into
your grandmother’s account. Or option two: You agree to give yourself to me
when I want you, how I want you, as often as I want you.”
        This is supposed to be
humiliating, I’m almost sure of it. Yet, his words cause a rush of wet heat to
flood my core. What is the matter with me? Lydia’s words come rushing back to
me as I fight not to fall on my knees screaming option two, a thousand times
option two. Cesare needs to feel like he has the power, he needs to be in
control. I had already told him I wanted him, would take him whatever way he
was wanted me. Yet as a virgin, somehow I had the power of obligation over him;
now he has the power all over again. Forcing a deep breath, I meet his eyes, glowing
with fierce hunger. “What if I don’t meet your usual standards? With my lack of
experience and everything?”
      “Let me worry about that. All I
need from you is a willingness to please. I’ll take care of the rest.”
      Hell yes, I’m willing. God, I’m
such a slut. I nod, too embarrassed to meet his eyes. “Okay.”
       “Okay, what?” I swear he purrs
the words like the tiger Dante once compared him to. I’ve caught a tiger by the
tail—now what the hell do I do with him? No sudden movements flashes as a
shiver runs up my spine.
        “I’m yours, any way you want
me.” A dark eyebrow goes up. “As often as you want me. I belong to you.”
      “You’ll withdraw your letter of
resignation. I’ll deal with Dante. At noon you’ll leave early, to go home and
get packed. Movers will be at your home at two. Pack everything you will need
for the next twenty-five days. You’ll be living with me in order for you to be
within easy reach to fulfill the whenever I want you, as often as I want you
portion of the agreement.”
        Living with him? I get to keep
my job too? “I have a dog. I can’t leave him at home.”
      He sighs then shrugs. “Bring the
dog. He won’t be sleeping in the bed. I’m not willing to share my bed with a
dog.”
        I shake my head. “Me either, he
sleeps in his own bed at the foot of the bed on the floor. Um, how long am I
keeping my job for? The twenty-five days or…” I’m almost afraid to ask the
question, yet I need to know.
        “For now, the twenty-five days.
I’ll look into moving you into another position, where you don’t have access to
money, maybe as an admin in our legal department.” He says the last drily. I
fight not to blush and lose.
        “I’m sorry, you don’t know how
sorry I am. I have never so much as taken a penny from one of those take a
penny leave a penny things. But this was for my sister, and I can’t say I
wouldn’t do it again.” I shrug. “It was her whole world at stake—hers seemed
more important than my own at the time.”
        He’s quiet for so long, I can’t
take it anymore and look up to meet his eyes. We connect and he sees into my
soul. Every secret I have ever had he knows, every lie I’ve ever told is
revealed to him. “For the next twenty-five days, I’m your whole world.”









Author Bio

Due to commitment
issues I have lived in many different cities and my favorite is Chicago but I
have managed to settle into Austin and perhaps my commitment issues are behind
me.

I have enjoyed
reading from a very young age and it wasn't long before the children books
bored me and I read the books my mother enjoyed Stephen King and Dean Koontz
and I didn't sleep without the light on until I was about ten.

I came across my
first Harlequin by accident and it was love at first read, no one died and
happy endings? It was a whole new world and I loved it.

I wrote my first
story at eight and everyone died, of course. Since then I would like to think
I've gotten better and now I'm writing the happily ever afters I first fell in
love with, with some hot sex thrown in along the way.
As a plus size woman
myself, I have started writing the stories I always wanted to see myself in but
never did. And now I’m ecstatic to give BBWs the happily ever afters with hot
Alphas I want to read.

In Search of a Witch's Soul by D Lieber


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Urban Fantasy Noir
Publisher: Ink & Magick
Date Published: March 5, 2019

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Human, private detective Anna Caill isn’t keen on the prohibition of magic enacted by the 18th Amendment, but she won’t deny it’s good for business. The coppers couldn’t care less about the witches’ problems, giving her any number of clients to choose from.

When mysterious witch Jesse Hunt saunters into her office, he and his case will test her limits. While a killer stalks the magical underworld, Anna is hired to find Jesse’s friend, the high priest of an ancient coven.

As her case unravels, Anna is forced to confront her addiction to a dark spell in this urban fantasy noir.

Excerpt

People crowded the streets on their routes to work. Huddled in their dark winter coats with their hatted heads tucked in to keep their necks warm, they looked like a waddle of penguins as they shuffled along. The enjoyable crisp air of autumn had given way to the blades of winter wind. It hadn’t yet snowed, but I looked hopefully at the clouds overhead. 
I loved the first snowfall. Everything was so fresh, and the pure white flakes covered the filthy, scarred face of the city. I knew the grime was still there, but it was nice to pretend. My one vain belief in life was that if you pretended long enough, you could convince even yourself.
Holiday decorations already sparkled in the shop windows though Thanksgiving had only been the week before. Even in light of that, everyone seemed more excited than usual. I stopped at a newsstand. 
“What’s happening, Mac?” I asked the man next to a shrinking stack of newspapers.
“Ford released the new Model A. Want to see the photographs?” He held out a paper to me.
“No, thanks.”
I continued down Huntington Street until I hit Wilbur Avenue. As expected, the squawkers were gathered on the corner. Their leader stood on a soapbox, preaching to anyone who’d listen.
“The Devil’s got his claws in you, but you don’t have to be a witch. Come toward the light and let Jesus Christ save you. This magic you practice corrupts God’s plan for you. It tempts you away from his path…”
The tirade went on as usual, and I tried to pass as quickly as I could. They’re born witches, you imbeciles. You already got magic banned for humans. What more could you possibly want?
I knew I shouldn’t let them irritate me every time I saw them, but then I thought of how long witches had lived in the shadows and how far we’d thought society had come. Of course, while the revelation that magic exists had delighted many, others quaked in fear and felt the need to squash what they didn’t understand and could never possess.
After turning on Wilbur Avenue, I went into a large house with an unimposing sign in the window, which read, “Clinic for Internal Medicine.”
The reception area was like any other physician’s home. There were uncomfortable looking chairs for waiting clients and a commanding nurse, who doubled as a secretary. The white walls were severe against the dark, hardwood floor.
The clinic couldn’t have been open for long because there was only one patient waiting, a woman round with child.
My heels clicked on the floor as I ankled to the nurse’s desk.
“I’m here to see Dr. Zodiac.”
Though the nurse had seen me many times, including the day prior, she stared at me hard to determine my purpose. Finally, she nodded. “The doctor is available at the moment. Go to the door at the end of the hall.”
I thanked her and went through the closed door behind her. I passed a legitimate exam and surgery room before I reached the end. After entering an inconspicuous door, I climbed down a flight of stairs, dimly lit by a naked bulb overhead. A thick carpet muffled the sound of my descent.
When I reached the solid, iron door at the bottom, I knocked in three groups of three. A slot at eye level slid open.
“The archer can never shoot the flame because it’s within him,” I whispered to the eyes.
Metal scraped, and the door opened. I entered the tunnel of Starlight Avenue. Though the tunnel was raw earth, it was smooth and well-lit by electric lights every few feet. At various points, it branched off into other tunnels, all of which led to different destinations that could fulfill any magical need.




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About the Author

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D. writes stories she wants to read. Her love of the worlds of fiction led her to earn a Bachelor’s in English from Wright State University.

When she isn’t reading or writing, she’s probably hiking, crafting, watching anime, Korean television, Bollywood, or old movies. She may also be getting her geek on while planning her next steampunk cosplay with friends.

She lives in Wisconsin with her husband (John) and cat (Yin).


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