To The Bone by J.R. Johansson blitz

To The Bone
J.R. Johansson
Publication date: August 25th 2020
Genres: New Adult, Thriller, Young Adult

Seventeen-year-old Harley Martin has been obsessed with Paris for years. Between her passion for studying architecture and wanting to spend time with her cousin, Gretchen, there’s nowhere on Earth that she’d rather go. So when Harley’s parents feel guilty enough about their constant fighting to offer to send Harley to visit her cousin, Gretchen, she doesn’t hesitate.

But Gretchen and Harley have both changed in the years they’ve been apart. In an effort to rekindle their friendship, Harley agrees to Gretchen’s suggested activity, even though it’s outside her comfort zone: a tour with Gretchen and her friends through the off-limits section of the Paris Catacombs. Miles and miles of tunnels deep under the city, filled with the remains of more than six million people.

When a cave-in kills their guide and leaves the group injured, terrified, and lost with limited supplies, they must search for a way out from the endless maze beneath the city of light. But surrounded by shadows, it’s hard to tell friends from enemies. Harley doesn’t know if she can trust anyone, including her own cousin. If they ever want to get back to the surface, they’ll have to fight for everything they hold dear–for their sanity, their humanity, their very lives–in a place that only embraces death.

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—

EXCERPT:

“Harley has skills.” Gretchen finally gives up on her phone and puts it on the table. “She can look at any building and tell you what period of style influenced it. Tell me when that wouldn’t come in handy.”

I shoot her a mock glare. “I can also tell which beam I should knock down to collapse a building on top of you.”

“Ooh, à la Wicked Witch of the West?” Henri laughs at the dismay on Gretchen’s face.

“East, dummy,” Liv says. “West is her sister that goes after Dorothy.”

I check my watch and realize it’s already past nine o’clock. It takes me almost thirty seconds to do the same math as yesterday to figure out what time it is back home.

Jet lag might not have hit me as hard as I expected, but my brain is definitely dragging a bit today.

Gretchen interrupts my thoughts. “You hear that, Harley?”

I turn to look at her, realizing I missed a significant chunk of conversation in that thirty seconds.

“Sorry.” I shake my head.

“Paolo set us up with Roland Lambert, one of the most prominent local cataphiles, to give us our tour tonight.”

“What’s a cataphile?” I ask.

Anders is the one who answers me. His Finnish accent is strong and I have to listen close to understand. “It’s what they call the people who are obsessed with the Catacombs. They like to go down and explore them.”

“Oh, cool. He sounds like he’ll be perfect.” A thrill of fear and excitement shoots through me. Now that I think about it, I remember cataphiles being mentioned a few times in that Catacombs documentary.

“I heard this creepy story once.” Paolo leans across the table like he’s telling us the most important thing ever. “The guy who was in charge of finding a way to get all the bones into the Catacombs, they say his spirit is still down there, that the owners of the bones he moved won’t let him leave.”

James groans. “Of course he is.”

Maud releases an uncomfortable giggle and swats Paolo on the shoulder. “Come on, ghosts?”

“There are a million stories like that.” Henri leans back, putting his hands behind his head. “I saw this video online from a university student who was recording down there. It’s super creepy. It doesn’t show what he saw, but he looks terrified and drops the camera. The last thing it recorded was his feet running away from whatever he saw. I guess someone found his camera later, but he never came out.”

An involuntary shiver slides down my spine, but when Gretchen starts laughing it fades away.

She holds her fork in front of her, pretending it’s a microphone, and does her best announcer voice. “No idiots were harmed in the making of this film.”

Author Bio:

J.R. JOHANSSON is the author of the Night Walkers Series (INSOMNIA, PARANOIA and MANIA) as well as standalone novels, CUT ME FREE and THE ROW. Her books have been published in over a dozen languages and more than twenty countries worldwide. She is the creator and host of the Riveting Reads podcast and the AuthorGamerGirl channel on Twitch. She has a B.S. degree in public relations and a background in marketing. She credits her abnormal psychology minor with inspiring many of her characters. She lives in a valley where the sun shines 300+ days per year with her hot tub named Valentino. Visit her online at www.jrjohansson.com.

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The Blood King by Abigail Owen blitz

The Blood King
Abigail Owen
(Inferno Rising #2)
Published by: Entangled: Amara
Publication date: August 25th 2020
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance

Ruthless dragon king Ladon Ormarr must keep his throne at all costs. And now, with war on the horizon, he’ll need a miracle. Luckily, the fates have dropped Skylar Amon right into his lap.

Except he may have met his match.

The feisty Amon sister has no fear — of him or any other dragon shifter — is brash, doesn’t stick to protocols, and regularly offends his warriors and advisers.

Skylar also has no intention of sticking around. She doesn’t believe in the whole destined mates thing and believes all dragon kings to be dangerous. But if it means taking out the High King who murdered her parents, she’ll put up with Ladon… temporarily.

But the fates have other plans. And when Skylar disappears in the middle of a battle, Ladon will burn down the world to find her.

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—

EXCERPT:

Skylar remained where she was on the floor, rubbing at her throat and glaring at the others with those bright, watercolor blue eyes. At least her skin had turned less sallow. Seconds ago, her pallor had him…concerned.

Ladon did his best to push adrenaline, along with the burning need to claim her immediately, down deep in his gut, though it tested the limits of his control. He gave the members of his guard—his closest friends—as well as the advisors who made up his Curia Regis, a sharp nod and waited in silence while they filed out.

Brand sat, too, saying nothing, probably sensing the dangerous edge on which Ladon’s emotions balanced.

“Damage my future mate like that again, and I’ll rip your arms out of their sockets.” The warning slid from Ladon. He couldn’t have held it back even if he wanted to. Not that he wanted to.

Still on the floor, Skylar’s back stiffened. “I’m not your future anything, asshole.”

“Not helping,” Kasia said pointedly, adding a glare at him for effect.

Shit. Where’d his control go? He’d just been telling himself to cool it with the claiming language. Ladon clamped down on more words.

Kasia held out her hands and pulled Skylar to her feet, allowing Ladon a view of Skylar’s face. His body tensed in reaction. Now that he had a chance to study her, he couldn’t deny her beauty. Darker and sharper than her sister, those glacial eyes a striking contrast to her midnight hair, her skin a darker shade than Kasia’s paleness, and those lips…

Kasia focused on her sister, her gaze settling. “I love you, but you got this totally wrong.”

Given her attitude so far, Ladon waited for an immediate rejection, but Skylar didn’t speak for a long beat, searching Kasia’s eyes. “My sources informed me that a rogue dragon kidnapped you and dragged you here to mate you to a king. Brand is the rightful King of the Gold Throne, right? He killed Uther, and apparently at least some gold dragons now bear Brand’s mark on their hands, which makes him king. A king you’re mated to. Am I wrong?”

Kasia sent a smiling glance at Brand. “You got it mostly right, but what you missed was that I didn’t mate the king I was intended to.”

Skylar turned those ice-blue eyes on Ladon. As realization dawned, her lips quirked. “What happened, big boy? Couldn’t close the deal?”

Ladon held her glance with an unaffected stare, hiding his reaction. Why the hell was her insulting him so amusing?

Author Bio:

Award-winning paranormal romance author, Abigail Owen, grew up consuming books and exploring the world through her writing. She attempted to find a practical career related to her favorite pastime by earning a degree in English Rhetoric (Technical Writing). However, she swiftly discovered that writing without imagination is not nearly as fun as writing with it.

No matter the genre, she loves to write witty, feisty heroines, sexy heroes who deserve them, and a cast of lovable characters to surround them (and maybe get their own stories). She currently resides in Austin, Texas, with her own personal hero, her husband, and their two children, who are growing up way too fast.

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#Surviving40 by Karen Anne blitz

#Surviving40
Karen Anne
Publication date: August 25th 2020
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Romance

Piper Quinn was more than ready to turn forty. So ready she began planning her Parisian celebration at thirty-five. That is until her life fell apart at thirty-nine. Left staring at divorce papers, Piper instantly regrets signing that pre-nup. How was she to know her husband would turn her in for a younger model?

After “accidentally” setting her Manhattan apartment on fire, Piper finds herself not only newly divorced, but newly homeless. Forced to move back home with her parents and take a job she doesn’t want, she soon discovers the gossip train in town moves faster than the subway system in New York—and she’s the hottest topic to leave the station. If matters weren’t bad enough, life in rural Connecticut seems downright claustrophobic when her sixteen year old daughter stops talking to her.

A blast from her past is the spark Piper needs to reignite her life. Owen Clarke, an old high school flame has the ability to turn back time making Piper feel sixteen again. The instant chemistry between them gives Piper hope of redeeming her second act. There’s only one teeny, tiny three foot problem: Owen’s daughter is in Piper’s Kindergarten class. With temptation lurking in every corner, Piper needs to put her emotions—and hormones— in check.

No one said getting older was easy, but turning forty just became a game of survival.

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—

EXCERPT:

#SurvivalTip: It’s not stalking if you show your face.

I was a glutton for punishment. No doubt in my mind I was in over my head and needed professional help. I had driven to the yoga studio in the next town where Avery taught. Now, I sat in my car, engine still running, willing myself to get the hell out. I watched her through the window. She was in a hot pink sports bra and soft grey leggings. Her hair was in its signature ponytail. There was a bounce in her step as she walked around the empty space of the studio pouring oil into the diffusers. She was in her zen arena, and I had no rational way of explaining my motive other than this woman had Owen and walked away. Why? There had to be something twisted inside her. Some narcissism or schizophrenia that would compel her to leave a man who was pretty close to perfect.

Convinced I had boarded the train to crazy town, I knew I had to get out of here before she saw me. A rap on my window caused me to jump and let out a yelp. I turned to my left, horrified to see Holly standing outside my car door. I lowered my window. “Oh my God! I thought that was you! What are you doing here?” She was practically bouncing.

“Um, Avery had invited me a few times, but my stomach is a little funky… bad sushi… so I think I’m going to head out.”

“Nonsense. Yoga is great for the digestive system. Come on, you’re going to freak over this class. Avery is amazing. You’ll love her.”

I doubted it, but could see no way out, so with a heavy heart, I cut my engine and followed Holly into the studio.

“Avery! Look who I found outside!” Holly grabbed my arm as if I might run away if she didn’t hold on to me. I didn’t blame her. There was a good chance I would flee at the first opportunity. Like a cat in an alley, scouring out the corners, looking for a place to hide, I was in full blown feral mode. If Avery came too close, there was a good chance I’d scratch her.

Avery was overjoyed to see me, her mouth agape as she waved her arms. It was exactly how a cult leader would look if they were trying to lull me into a false sense of security. Her eyes were the size of saucers as she ran over to me, and her beautiful features suddenly held an alien quality to them.

“No way!” She pulled me into a deep hug. Damn this chick was solid. She was smaller than me, and it freaked me out, because I was pretty sure she could kick my ass. “I can’t believe you came! This is amazing. I’m telling you, after tonight, you will be hooked, right, Holly?”

“She’s so right. I swear if I miss a session, my body is quick to let me know—total withdrawal. I need this every week.”

“Have you taken yoga before, Ms. Quinn?”

“You can call me Piper.” It was clear they were all on a first name basis, and I didn’t want to be the old lady rigid in formality. I sized up Avery, trying to decipher how old she was. Owen was my year in school so we were the same age, but this woman, with her flawless skin that had never seen the sun without being protected in SPF 50, was still soaking in the glory of a body that was barely three decades old. “Not really. A few times here or there, but nothing too advanced. I’m not very flexible,” I admitted.

“Well, flexibility comes with practice, and that’s what this is. I don’t see it as exercise so much as a way of life.” Damn she was serious. “I need water every day. I need food, I need sleep. I also need yoga.”

I currently needed a plastic bag to vomit in. This chick was too poster perfect, and the more she spoke, the more inadequate I became.

Avery glanced at her watch. “Oh! Showtime! Let’s find a spot on the floor and settle in.”

There were at least ten other women in the room, and so I walked toward the back, but Holly grabbed my arm and told me to sit next to her. She unfurled her yoga mat, and that’s when I realized I hadn’t brought one.

“I don’t have a mat.” The words were low, and I imagined I sounded like one of my students saying they didn’t have a crayon to color the picture. I didn’t have a mat because I didn’t expect to actually enter the studio. I put on leggings and a tank top like it was a costume, the intention to workout wasn’t real. It was cosplay, nothing more.

“Avery has extra.” Holly jogged over to the corner and pulled a grey mat from the box. She laid it out in front of me, revealing the turquoise lotus flower that was printed in the center. I thanked Holly and sat on the lotus flower, copying Avery, who was now seated on the floor.

“Welcome back everyone.” Avery’s voice was silky smooth.

She’d be great as a phone sex operator. Hell, I’d pay a dollar a minute to see what she had to say. I could only imagine the lewd comments that voice had whispered into Owen’s attentive ears over the years. The hair on the back of my neck bristled at the thought.

Avery folded her legs in front of her in a way I referred to in kindergarten as “pretzel style” and took a few deep breaths. Her eyes were closed, and I soon became aware that everyone around me had also closed their eyes, trusting Avery’s voice to take them on this meditative journey. That was asking a lot of me, but not about to be caught staring at her, I closed my eyes and tried my best to breathe in a way that was not natural at all.

The breathing lasted a long time, and although I was supposed to be letting my thoughts melt away and empty my mind of heaviness, I was too busy burying myself in clutter as I tacked up insecurity after insecurity. The anxiety reached new heights when we were actually expected to transition from breathing to different animal poses. I didn’t know I’d have to be a cat, cow, cobra, and dog all in one flow. We were moving from downward dog to plank to cobra when Avery tilted her head, got up, and walked over to me. Crap. I was doing something wrong.

“Come back up to downward facing dog.” I did as she instructed and was surprised when she came behind me and held my hips. “Okay, you want to open up your hips more, spread your legs a bit wider, and really fall back into this stretch.” She kept one hand on my left hip, her right hand rested gently on my back. I hoped I wasn’t sweaty.

“Your goal is to have your heels touch the ground. It won’t happen right away.” She got beside me, mimicking the proper pose. My hamstrings were burning, which caused my legs to tremble. The blood rushed to my head; I raised my gaze and caught what we looked like in the mirror. It was a bad decision. The mirror only exposed how I felt— disoriented and in physical pain, while Avery bent over beside me, modeling the pose with ease.

“You want your body to become an upside down V. See?” I nodded and prayed she’d move on to another victim. The gods must have shown pity on me because she bounced back up and went to the front to show us the next pose.

Author Bio:

Karen Anne was writing before she could read. As a toddler, she sat with a book in her hands and made up the stories, eager for the day when she'd find out if it all truly ended in happily ever after. Karen still determines the destiny of other people's lives, but this time, the characters are her own.

She is a Contemporary Romance author who lives in New York.

Coffee drinker by day, wine enthusiast by night, she loves cats and deeply misses 90's grunge.

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A Chip on Her Shoulder by R.J. Blain blitz

A Chip on Her Shoulder
R.J. Blain
(Magical Romantic Comedies #11)
Publication date: September 1st 2020
Genres: Adult, Urban Fantasy

After a deal with loan sharks sours, Darlene’s brother is permanently transformed into a chipmunk. Not one to accept impossibility as a good excuse for failure, she’s determined to rescue her brother and secure revenge against those who’d poisoned him with grade-a transformatives.

If she wants to perform a miracle, she’ll need to join forces with a divine, but the man upstairs and his angels refuse to help.

None of the other so-called benevolent divines are willing to help her, either.

Running out of time and options, Darlene prepares to storm the gates of hell for her brother.

She never expected to fall in love with the Devil.

Warning: this novel contains a woman with a chip on her shoulder, humor, and one hell of a hero. Proceed with caution.

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—

EXCERPT:

Rather than try to talk my brother out of the money he rightfully owed them, the local mafia’s loan sharks opted for a more permanent solution to their problem. They transformed my asshole brother, Jonas, into a chipmunk and saddled me with the bill.

My brother had lost his human life for five thousand dollars.

What a waste.

Since that wasn’t bad enough, the goons my brother had pissed off forced me to watch the entire process, which involved forcing him to drink a vial of clear fluid. The transformation took a matter of minutes, and he started screaming within seconds of consuming their concoction.

It took until he’d shrunk to half his true size to stop screaming, and he squealed instead.

Shapeshifting hurt like hell; I went through the gruesome process every few days, when my thin, human skin drove me to the brink of madness. Some days, I took on my more hybrid form, sporting a tail and my feline ears. Sometimes, I tossed in a light coat of spotted fur to ease my discomfort. Sometimes, I kept the thin, human skin to pretend I fit in with the rest of the neighborhood, hiding my tail and ears beneath my clothes. One day I’d give up on hiding my true nature. Every rare now and again, my hybrid transformation came with a full coat of fur, my ears, and my beautiful tail, something I loved.

My light coat was a mockery of my full glory, and one day, I’d master my magic so I decided which parts of me had light fur, no fur, or a thick coat best suited for wintry mountains.

My spots were my best assets, and I loved each and every one of them. Life would be so much better when I could wear my spots whenever I wanted.

When the mood struck me, the night was young, and the weather was cool, I ran as a snow leopard, displaying every one of my spots and hunting through suburbia for prey, typically one of the more annoying squirrels or rabbits to menace my garden.

I’d be hunting for bigger prey soon enough, and I kept my expression cold and calm. Warning my prey I would be coming for them wouldn’t do.

A wise huntress gave no warning before the ambush, and I would use every opportunity to crush the entire mafia. Unlike the local law enforcement, who played by civilized rules, there would be nothing civilized about me.

They had destroyed my family, so I would destroy their family. No, I would do far worse than merely destroy their family. I would destroy their ambition while I was at it. When I finished with them, ruin and suffering would be all I left in my wake.

Sometimes, I was not a very good person. Actually, no. Most of the time I was not a very good person.

I’d learned early on being good left me taken advantage of, alone, and miserable. When I did good, I did it because I wanted to, expecting nothing in return, for I’d learned that lesson well enough.

What went around rarely came around, and I’d gained nothing from any of the good I’d done in my life.

I kept my breaths slow and even, waiting while doing my best to detach myself from the reality of my situation. Panic would win me nothing, neither would fear. Patience might win me a lot, depending on what I learned in the next few minutes.

One of the thugs, someone who’d gotten into a fight with a fire and lost, held a rather nasty gun to my head to make sure I behaved.

I behaved, but only because we had one rule in our household of two: survival came first. Once I survived my current mess, I would add a new rule to our household of one and a rodent: revenge would come eventually.

I couldn’t win against eight men who’d cut their teeth on violence, not even if I transformed and put my sharp claws to good use. Not yet. I’d keep my claws a secret for a little while longer, and when I brought them out, I would shred their entire outfit.

Revenge would be mine, and I would enjoy obtaining it.

Revenge wouldn’t save my brother. If I had fought against the mafia he’d tangoed with, I couldn’t have saved him anyway. They likely would have killed us both. I’d find some way to do the impossible and restore my brother somehow. The man my brother had been was gone, replaced by a chipmunk with a rodent’s puny little brain.

No, he was still my brother, but he possessed a rodent’s puny little brain. He might remember me. He might even be able to understand English and allow me to keep him outside of a cage.

Maybe.

That stung.

My brother was an asshole. He probably deserved some form of punishment at the hands of the mafia, but he was my asshole brother, and nobody beat him other than me.

I would make that our third household rule, and I would adhere to it.

I took my time memorizing the faces of those who’d pay for their crimes. Their scars would make them easy to identify. I wouldn’t forget their scars, I wouldn’t forget their faces, and I gave it a week for me to learn their names.

Then the fun would truly begin.

They weren’t the only ones who could get their hands on transformative drugs. It just cost a little money or having the right ingredients available. I could get the money, and I could go where the rare ingredients grew.

So hellbent on revenge, I barely remembered the conversation leading up to my brother’s transformation into a rather small rodent. I remembered the part about the money, where they wanted me to bring it and when, but the rest remained a blur.

I needed to memorize their scarred faces so I could do what an Esmaranda woman did when she got mad.

I’d get even, and I’d charge interest.

My mother, may her soul rest in peace, had taught me that from the day I’d busted out of maternal prison and escaped her womb.

Picking my brother up by his furry little tail, the lead asshole, who had a rather ugly scar over his nose where someone had failed to slice his skull in half, tossed him my way. I forgot about the gun pointed at me, scrambling to catch my brother so he wouldn’t escape. He squealed and squeaked protests before biting the hell out of my hand.

What an utter asshole. I prevented him from running away and losing all chance of becoming human again, and he bit me? When I refused to let my brother go, he took another chomp out of the fleshy part of my hand connecting my index finger and thumb.

I bled.

The mafia goons laughed, and then they left.

They’d pay for that, too.

Come hell or high water, they’d pay.

Author Bio:

RJ Blain suffers from a Moleskine journal obsession, a pen fixation, and a terrible tendency to pun without warning.

In her spare time, she daydreams about being a spy. Her contingency plan involves tying her best of enemies to spinning wheels and quoting James Bond villains until satisfied.

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Million Miles Off by Alice Bane

Million Miles Off
Alice Bane
(Million Miles, #2)
Publication date: October 20th 2020
Genres: New Adult, Romance, Science Fiction

Just when I was destined to start a new life, a new beginning, with Korin.

Beautiful

Sweet

Endearingly awkward Korin.

Nathan, my loathsome ex-boyfriend, just stomped all over my happily ever after.

Exes are exes for a reason, they say. They belong in the past. Yeah… Try telling that to Nathan Hanway. He has quite literally put me in a place I’d rather not be.

A high-security facility with as many dark, nebulous secrets as hallways. Surrounded by people with shifty eyes. I’m forced to endure the impossible, under his supervision.

Thing is, I don’t have time. I’m sort of running against a biological clock. I need to get out of here before the colossal sacrifice I’ve made goes to complete and utter waste.

I despise you, Nathan, I really do.

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—

TRAILER:

—

Get your copy of book 1 for FREE!

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Author Bio:

Alice Bane holds a BSc and a voracious interest in all things extra-terrestrial. Self-identifying as a citizen of the universe, she has opted to travel the cosmos through her words. Million Miles Away is her debut Sci-Fi Romance novel.

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Unholy Union by Natasha Knight

Title: Unholy Union

Series: Unholy Union Duet #1

Author: Natasha Knight

Genre: Dark Romance

Release Date: August 25, 2020

Blurb

Circumstance
put Cristina on my path.

Fate bound
her to me.

Cristina
and I share a common past. A single night that changed the course of our lives.

She asked
me if I was a monster the night I met her.

I am.

She’s about
to learn I’m her monster.

Because the
countdown that began eight years ago has ended. Her time is up.

On the
stroke of midnight, she’s mine.

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Releasing September 15

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Author Bio

USA Today
bestselling author of contemporary romance, Natasha Knight specializes in dark,
tortured heroes. Happily-Ever-Afters are almost always guaranteed, but she
likes to put her characters through hell to get them there. She’s evil like
that.

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Children of Fenrir #1 & 2 by Heather McCorkle

Clawed & Cornered
Heather McCorkle
(Children of Fenrir, #1)
Published by: City Owl Press
Publication date: October 27th 2020
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance

Book 1, a novella, in the Children of Fenrir series:

When bad boy Raul Anderson walked into Sonja’s bar and plucked a dart out of the air that had been thrown at his head, she fell so fast and hard the impact could have levelled a small city. Whether it would turn into love, or just remain lust, didn’t matter. The damage had been done.

Release date is this October 20th

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--

Bitten & Beholden
Heather McCorkle
(Children of Fenrir, #2)
Published by: City Owl Press
Publication date: October 27th 2020
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance

Book 2, a novel, in the Children of Fenrir series:

Previously published as Once Bitten. Now with a new publisher, new material, new ending, and a new title!

When Sonja Michaelson’s hot date turns into something out of a horror movie, she wakes up with a chunk taken out of her neck and her body going through some strange changes. Her attacker has disappeared, leaving her a mysterious note to meet him in Montana. With her senses tipping over into the freaky, she is left with no choice but to go after him.

Instead of her attacker, she finds Ty, an alluring man who claims he has been sent to teach her how to survive the transition into her new life. He informs her she has been bitten into a line of werewolves who trace their lineage back to an ancient pack of Icelandic Vikings.

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Author Bio:

Heather is an author of historical, fantasy, and steampunk. When she's not writing or surfing her social networking sites, she can be found on the slopes, the hiking trails, or paddleboarding. As a native Oregonian, she enjoy the outdoors almost as much as the worlds she creates on the pages. No need to travel to the Great Northwest though, you can find her on her website, and Monday night's on Twitter where she co-moderates the #WritersRoad chat.

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