Monday, December 9, 2019

HOLIDAY EXTRAVAGANZA with D.K. DAVIS (SECRET SERIES BOOKS)



Oakly’s Christmas Present – short story
(Include characters from Secret: Of Amber Eyes)
By DK Davis

“Oakly, you’ll find someone. Don’t look so down.” Morgan, my twin brother’s soul-mate, patted my shoulder.

Rowan stepped next to her, never leaving her side for long. His arm went possessively around her waist. He punched my arm and grinned, and then led his woman toward the kitchen table.

Watching my brother and Morgan instilled the deep loneliness plaguing my cougar, like a blade stabbing my chest. I needed the forest, an escape from the crowd of family and friends sitting around the table and working on Christmas decorations for the fortress we all called home. The place, for all its space, gave me a fit of claustrophobia.

I snuck out the front door. Brisk air and tufts of falling snow threw my cougar into an adrenaline rush to run. The animal scratched against the inside of my skin. I jogged down the porch steps and into the trees, dropping my clothes next to a giant oak and shifting into my animal.

Four large paws carried me for miles away from home. I crossed a couple of dirt roads and continued through the thick forest, cutting footprints through the snow. The wind picked up, and gray clouds blanketed the rising moon. The cougar’s night vision kicked in, and I stopped to sate my thirst at a babbling brook.

When I raised my head, a force hit my senses so hard it knocked me on my butt. I shook my head to get a bearing of what drew my complete mind and body. Then a shriek followed by a snarl, close by, across the stream. I launched over the water at full speed.

Snapping jaws, growls, and yips, I scented wolves.

A cat screamed and snarled in a way to scare off a predator or to defend itself. Another scent filled my olfactory, female cat, not a cougar. I bounded through the dense shrub sounding like an army and blew through the other side with the effect of distraction.

A bobcat surrounded by three wolves. She stood her ground, but red colored the snow around her. All wolves stared my way.

I roared my deepest snarl and charged, the only thought snapping through my mind, save her.

Two of the wolves sprang toward me, leaving one for the she-cat. I caught one by the throat, shook the hell out of him and tossed him against a tree trunk. The other had jumped on my back and snapped his jaws over the back of my neck. Its claws caught my shoulders and my back haunches.

I ran straight at a downed tree, flipping into it, so the wolf caught the sharp branch. The teeth piercing the sides of my neck released, and I pulled away from its claws. It fell to the ground, the branch protruding from its back, and then it crawled away.

The she-cat held her own, snarling and clawing, but the wolf clenched his jaws on a front leg. Bones snapped, and the she-cat went into a biting frenzy across the dog-faced snout. I pounced on the wolf’s back, sinking my claws around its neck. The she-cat dropped from its mouth, and I forced the wolf away, and then gave chase until the distance satisfied me.

When I got back to the Bobcat, she lay on her side, panting and looking like a bloody mess. Her head lifted as I stepped closer. I crouched beside her and licked at the wounds. She lapped at the gouges on my neck. After a bit, we both settled together and slept.

* * *
Someone shook me awake. As I opened my eyes and yawned, the morning sun created a glistening coat of mini prisms across the snow.

“What the hell are you doing way out here? You’re miles from our territory.” Rowan eyed me. “It looks like a bloody war zone. You’re covered in blood and a significant amount of another cat’s scent, brother. A shifter. Care to explain?”

I glanced next to me. An imprint of the she-cat’s smaller body had colored the snow dark red. She’d vanished. I jumped onto my four-paws. Sniffing the air, I noticed the smaller-sized paw prints leading in the opposite direction of home.

“Come on. Everyone is worried about you. A lot of them are out looking for you.” He huffed. “You didn’t let anyone know you went for a run.”

Everything inside me said to follow the she-cat shifter, but I knew she would come back here as I would.

Rowan pulled a cell phone from his pocket. “Dad, I found him. Let everyone know. It’s going to take us a while to get home.” Then he paused, listening. I heard him explaining where we were and to use the tracking app to find his phone. It sounded like someone would be driving a vehicle to a close location.

My attention faded in and out from his conversation as my head filled with thoughts of the female Bobcat.

“I will come back to see you tonight like you want to do,” a female voice filled the inside of my mind like a loud whisper.

I instantly shifted into human form. “Hey, tell me why you and Morgan can mind-communicate.”

“Good grief. Your junk’s gonna freeze. I didn’t bring any clothes for you.” Rowan grinned and pointed.

Yea, parts of me wanted to hide from the cold, but most of my body remained hot-blooded. “I gotta know about you and Morgan.”

“Fine, but we gotta jog. Dad’s going to pick us up on a dirt road a few miles away.” Rowan picked up the pace. “Morgan and I exchanged blood, and because she’s my soul-mate, we can mind-communicate. I understand that only happens with a soul-mate.”

“Does your soul-mate need to be the same kind of shifter?” My head reeled with the thought.

* * *
“You’re not leaving the fortress tonight. Tomorrow’s Christmas and your mother will have my hide if I allow you to go for a run like you did yesterday.” Dad’s eyes narrowed, but his focus wandered. “Unless you drove the truck to the spot where I picked you up. Then I’d know you’d get back here before morning.” His intense gaze landed on me. “The only reason I’m considering this is from the questions you asked Rowan. And you can thank him that he talked about it to me.”

Dad handed me his keys. I ran out the front door before he changed his mind.

Darkness had already settled over the tree line as I parked along a small clearing off the edge of the dirt road.

As I climbed out of the truck, her presence melded into mine and shivered through my body. “Where are you?”

Her scent drew me farther into the forest, and then I saw her. Beautiful long platinum-blond hair drifted down her shoulders. Smoldering blue eyes met mine. She lifted away from the large oak tree she’d leaned against and ambled toward me in a sleek feline two-legged prowl.
My breath left me and then came back in a gasping gulp, leaving me dizzy and drunk on her scent. My legs finally mobilized, and I strode to her, wrapping my arms around her.

She slid her hands around the back of my neck. Her fingers twined into my hair. I leaned down, and she lifted on her toes, lips uniting in a crash of cracking whips and stormy lightning. My whole body blazed in fire for this meek little woman, but then, nothing about her seemed timid.

Her tongue ran across my lips, sending a tremor through me. She giggled. Her hands pushed my chest, and we broke apart.

“My name’s Sky. I believe you’re my Christmas present for life.” Her smile radiated through my chest, stealing my voice.

“I believe you’re my life Christmas present also,” my mind-communication responded.
“Let’s go meet my parents, and then we’ll meet yours. We have a lot to talk about.” Sky reached for my hand, and when our fingers wove together, my cougar agreed we’d both found our most significant other.

I drew her back to me and sealed our moment with a kiss. Sky’s tender lips sent my cougar into purr-mode, something I’d never experienced before tonight. Then, Sky’s bobcat answered with a contented purr. “Merry Christmas,” our mind-communication whispered as one.



Secret: In Wolf Lake
D.K. Davis




Genres:  SciFi, PNR


Publisher:  BWL Publishing, Inc.  

Cover Artist: Michelle Lee

Date of Publication: January 1, 2017

ISBN: 9781772993899
ASIN: B01N7O41FM

Number of pages: 120
Word Count: 41,200

Tagline: Samantha discovers a gifted creature living in Wolf Lake; now his life depends on her saving him.

Book Description:

Samantha’s dealing with a lot of emotional blow-back from her mother’s new marriage. Then she discovers a gifted creature living in Wolf Lake, and life suddenly becomes all about keeping his existence a secret, earning his trust. That is until his life depends on her saving him. But she won’t be able to do it alone…

Amazon     BN     Kobo      Smashwords



Secret: At HL Woods
D.K. Davis

Date of Publication: December 15, 2017 

ISBN: EPUB 978-1-77362-990-2
ASIN: B077ZT2H5V

Number of pages: 199
Word Count: 60,200 words

Tagline: A high school ghost-seer, an all-star jock, and a bully, cross paths, sparks spew, and lives change…

Book Description:

Bri, a seventeen-year-old ghost-seer, keeps her ability under wraps at the new school until a murdered couple from the 60’s asks for help.

Kyle, a high school jock, realizes the new girl lives next door; she’s crazy cute, goth-odd, and too convenient to ignore.

Max, Kyle’s best friend, only sees Bri as a wicked threat.

Luke, Bri’s gay best friend, moves in for the summer, escaping his abusive father.
Paths cross, sparks spew…will anyone remain the same after?

Amazon      BN       Kobo      Smashwords     Books2Read


Secret: Of Amber Eyes
D.K. Davis

Date of Publication:  November 2018 Release

Kindle 978-0-2286-0621-5
Amazon Print 978-0-2286-0623-9
ASIN: B07KGGHG3P

Number of pages: 197
Word Count:  58,500

Tagline:  Instinct draws Morgan and Rowan together, a human and a shifter, until a wildcard wildcat threatens Morgan’s life, changing her forever.

Book Description:

Morgan Redding, a seventeen-year-old high school graduate, gets sent to her aunt and uncle’s wildlife rescue and preserve, a therapeutic place for not only nature.

Rowan Marcus, an eighteen-year-old cougar shifter, helps at the wildlife refuge. He’s part of a secret society of shifters guarding the preserve lands.

Instinct draws Morgan and Rowan together.

Then one wildcard wildcat within the shifter community kills for the needy, but the killing escalates and threatens Morgan’s life, changing her forever…

Amazon      BN     Kobo       Smashwords

Excerpt from Secret: Of Amber Eyes

Word Count - 964

“Gotta’ run honey,” she said over the glass sunroof of the Cadillac. “Our flight leaves in four hours, and I still have a few things left to pack.”
I immobilized as Mom dove into the car to retrieve her phone. She tapped the screen and started the car.
I didn’t wave as she shifted into gear and drove off with her cell phone stuck to her ear. 
She never even glanced my way. 
From my peripheral, Uncle Charlie and Aunt Becka looked at each other. They weren’t smiling anymore. Mom had never said a word to either of them. She didn’t say goodbye to me, either, unless I counted the trail of dust marking her exit.
Good riddance. Oh, and have a happy life with Jack.
My stomach fluttered, and the inside of my throat tightened like it might collapse in on itself. A load of moisture gathered, blurring my vision. Some trickled alongside my nose. I’m not crying. Extra baggage doesn’t cry; instead, I go to prison.
My body relaxed as if a heavy weight shifted and slipped off. Why not make the best of this crappy situation? I was on the back burner, but not being dumped down the garbage disposal. I wiped away the water littering my face and picked up my two duffle bags. Aunt Becka scooped up my backpack; her thick long blond braid slid over her shoulder.
“This way, dear. You’ve come at a good time with the weather. We’ve got a warm streak going. It isn’t normally nice warm temperatures until much later in the summer.” Aunt Becka led the way into the house. She wore faded denim shorts with a baggy sky-blue T-shirt, short white socks, and high-top hiking boots. She and Uncle Charlie were sun-browned and looked the same age as Mom. The muscles in Aunt Becka’s calves stood out as she climbed the circular stairway.
She continued, “It’s still pretty cool in the mornings and later in the evenings, which makes for great sleeping weather.”
At the top of the stairs, I walked across the open loft to the wall-sized window, dropping my bags mid-way.
Two bright red barns stood off to one side. I recognized the green T-shirt and dark blue baseball cap Uncle Charlie wore. He pushed a wheel-barrow into one of the barns. Another guy walked behind with a huge bag of something balanced on his shoulder. The muscles in his arm bulged. He stopped in mid-step and swung around to look upward, at the window, and then at me.
My stomach suddenly churned into warm pudding as our gazes collided. The guy’s eyes glowed, amber, a trick of the sun I was sure. My breath sucked in.
Aunt Becka stepped beside me and glanced out. “Oh, that’s Rowan Marcus. He’s here pretty much every day helping with chores and with the other kids that aid us at the refuge.”
Rowan swung around and followed Uncle Charlie into the barn. A tremor slid through me, and then I exhaled, realizing I’d completely stopped my lungs from working. What the heck? Amber eyes?
Aunt Becka pointed to the other side of the barn toward tall wire fenced-in areas. “We keep recovering deer or goats in those.” Then she pointed along the outside of the barns, to smaller wire pens. “Those hold fawn or other small animals that need special care.”
I attempted to stay focused on her words, but the image of Rowan and those eyes. My brain fogged over with his image burnt on the inside of my eyelids.
She waved a finger at the dirt paths that connected everything and waited until I looked to continue, “We have cleared pathways to every area that requires our attention, and that tree line marks the perimeter into our wildlife preserve. We own a lot of forest acreage that’s a safe place for our healed wildlife to live.”
A.K.A. my prison grounds.
She squeezed me to her. “It’s wonderful here. I know you’ll love it as much as Charlie and I do.”
I didn’t know how to respond, other than to go rigid and silent. My aunt acted like this was going to be a vacation for me, not punishment. Pulling away from her, I paced the room, taking inventory. Aunt Becka watched me from near the window.
A bed, nightstand, desk, and dresser, all built of knotty pine or logs. A narrow door opened to a closet and beside it, another narrow door led into a small bathroom. Most of the walls and all of the ceilings and floors were knotty wood. No carpet, no curtains. Like being inside a sterile prison, not that I frequented the inside of a real prison cell, but this shiny clean room gave me the impression of ‘no fun, all work.’
I plopped down on the bed and bounced on it a little. Comfortable.
“So, Kate said you and your step-dad are kind of on the outs with each other.” Aunt Becka strolled over and plopped on the bed beside me. “To be honest, Charlie and I didn’t even know Kate had gotten married.”
“Let’s just say I’m used to Mom having flings with her escort men, but she’s never married one of them,” I said, the words slipping from my mouth like a spray of negative ick.
Aunt Becka frowned, and then her face softened. “You’ve had it tough, haven’t you?”
I stared at her, another question I didn’t know how to answer. My nose tingled, an itch inevitable. So, again, I blurted, “No, I’ve been just fine. Mom and I played our roles the best we knew how, and then our roles changed. That’s all.” I rubbed the crap out of my nose, jumped off the bed and unzipped one of the duffle bags.



About the Author:

DK Davis writes YA sci-fi, supernatural, and fantasy with a good dollop of all the relationships woven in between. When she’s not writing, editing, or reading, she’s hiking, RV’ing, fishing, spending time with grandchildren or her favorite muse (her husband) in Southwest Michigan.

She also writes mainstream supernatural, suspense-thriller romance as S. Peters-Davis.











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Thursday, December 5, 2019

INTERVIEW WITH S.K. GREGORY (Watcher Academy)



Watcher Academy
League of Watchers
Book 1
S. K. Gregory

Genre: Supernatural suspense/urban fantasy

Publisher: SKGregory

Date of Publication:  Nov 30th 2019

ASIN: B07ZLMDL4Q

Number of pages: 200
Word Count: 50k

Cover Artist: RMGraphX

Tagline: A Watcher is supposed to keep evil at bay, but what happens when it walks among them?

Book Description:

Adeline 'Dell' Grimm has been in training to join the Watcher Academy her whole life. A legacy, her grandfather, Edward was one of the Academy's most respected members and Dell is determined to follow in his footsteps.

An impulsive decision could destroy her new life...

Left alone one night, Dell cannot resist a quick look at the recent delivery of artefacts. Artefacts which the Watchers are duty bound to keep hidden away from the world, for they possess supernatural magic, magic that could prove deadly in the wrong hands. Which doesn't bode well for Dell when she accidentally drops one of them.

A Watcher is supposed to keep evil at bay, but what happens when it walks among them?

Soon Dell finds herself missing time and when a fellow Watcher is found murdered, she wonders if she is somehow responsible.

Turning to her fellow Watchers, Spencer and Max, Dell must figure out the truth before someone else dies.

Excerpt:

“You can do this, Dell. Your whole life has been leading up to this moment. Don’t blow it,” I muttered to myself.
Squaring my shoulders, I took a deep breath, plastered on a smile and opened the door to the prestigious Watcher Academy.
Stepping over the threshold, I heard a snap and I stumbled. Catching myself on the wall, I looked down to find that the heel on my boot was broken.
I groaned in frustration. Why did this crap always happen to me? I considered returning to my room on campus to fix it, but then I would be late for my induction.
Maybe someone has glue or tape that I can use to fix it.
Walking on the ball of my foot, I made my way down the short hallway to a second door. This one needed a key card to open it.
Knocking loudly, I waited, trying to keep my balance. Nothing was going to ruin this experience for me. I just wished that Grandpa lived long enough to see this.
There was a beeping noise and the door opened. A man with dark hair stuck his head out. “Adeline Grimm?”
“Yes, but I go by Dell.”
He pushed the door open wider and stepped back. “Follow me.”
I resisted the urge to squeal. This was it.
Limping after the man, I followed him into the Watcher Academy.
“Oh my God,” I whispered.
We entered a huge round room, filled with other Watchers bustling about. A huge oak table sat in the middle of the room, behind which stood a stone fireplace. To my left, lay an alcove leading to an office. Above me, were the stacks. I turned slowly on the spot, taking in row after row of books.
Breathing deeply, I inhaled the scent of the musty tomes. It was exactly as Grandpa described.
“Miss Grimm?” a woman said.
“Yes, sorry.” I tore my gaze from the room and turned to face her.
“Chelsea Dean. I run things around here. This is Antoine,” she said, motioning to the man who showed me in. I was shocked at how young she was. Barely older than me. Blonde, with blue eyes, she stood several inches taller than me. She wore a black blazer over a white blouse and carried a clipboard.
“Nice to meet you,” I said. “I’m so happy to be here, I’ve wanted to see the inside of this place since I was a child.”
I realized I was babbling and quickly closed my mouth. Chelsea made a note on her clipboard, while Antoine hovered nearby. Everyone looked so professional looking and here I was, holding my boot heel.
“I need to check some details,” Chelsea said. “Adeline Jane Grimm, twenty-four. Granddaughter of Edward Grimm. He was one of the best. Hope you don’t ruin his legacy.”
My cheeks burned. Grandpa spent over forty years as a Watcher, I would never tarnish his reputation.
“You studied history and anthropology in college, then a year gaining practical experience. Which means we’re missing a year.”
“I took a gap year early on. I went with Grandpa, uh, Edward, to South America on a dig.”
Chelsea made a noncommittal noise and continued scribbling away on the clipboard, while I stood awkwardly, trying not to fall over. She seemed determined to do this standing.
“And you live on the college campus?” Chelsea asked.
“Yeah, there was actually some kind of mix up and I got stuck with a student roommate,” I said. The Watcher Academy was located on the ** college campus. No one outside the Watchers knew what went on in here. As far as they were concerned, this was some kind of historical society.
“Follow me and we’ll start your induction,” Chelsea said.
“Um, would you have…” I trailed off when I realized she wasn’t listening, she had already crossed the room and opened a door. I hurried after her.
The door led to a small office where a video monitor was set up. Chelsea motioned for me to sit in the only chair in the room. Grabbing a remote control, she switched on the monitor.
“I’ll be back when this is over,” she said.
Confused, I focused on the screen. After a few seconds, a man appeared on the screen, standing in a lavish office. I recognized him instantly as Charles Landry. One of the highest-ranking members of the League of Watchers.
“Welcome to the Watcher Academy. Today you begin a journey to become a fully fledged Watcher.”
Oh my God, it’s a training video like they give employees.
I resisted the urge to laugh that they would have something so normal.
“The League of Watchers was formed in 1869 to protect the world from the supernatural and ensure magical objects do not end up in the hands of civilians.”
Grandpa always spoke of the Watchers with such reverence. He was in charge of artefact retrieval, a job I wanted more than anything.
“Watchers dedicate their lives to keeping the world safe. You may even face the ultimate sacrifice in the line of duty. Know that it will be a great honor and you will be remembered for your bravery.”
Translation – as a Watcher, there’s a good chance you will die on the job. I knew the risks, I also know that I was taught by the best.
The video ended and Chelsea returned. “Any questions?”
“No,” I said. “Oh actually…” I held up my heel but she had already left the room.
I ran after her.
“There are currently twelve Watchers situated here, along with our support team. You can learn their names in your own time, but I will introduce you to the two main people you will be working with.”
She led me to a desk under the stacks, covered in wires and computer equipment. A man with light brown hair sat behind it. He was around my age, wearing a red t-shirt with some band logo on it. Definitely not a Watcher or he would be dressed like the others.
“This is Spencer, tech support and research.”
Spencer stood up to shake my hand. “Nice to meet you. If you need anything, just let me know.”
“Thanks.” He was cute. Not that I was here to meet a guy. I would never let anything interfere with my training. Besides, I doubt Chelsea would take too kindly to any of us dating each other.
Spencer noticed the heel in my hand. “I have some tape, it that’s any use?”
“Yeah, thanks, I’ll give it a go.”
As he handed me the tape, Chelsea was on the move again. She approached a man standing in the alcove by the office. He was slightly older, maybe early thirties, with dark hair. He wore a pale blue shirt over black slacks.
“Adeline, this is Max Burrows. He is our resident expert on ancient cultures and curses.”
“Hi, I usually go by Dell,” I said.
He gave me a nod. “Has the latest shipment arrived yet?” he asked Chelsea.
“It should be here within the hour.”
He turned and went back into his office.
Nice guy.
“There are forms for you to fill out, then we can work out where to assign you,” Chelsea said, carrying on. I guessed his behavior was normal.
“I’d really like to follow in Edward’s footsteps and work in artefact archiving.”
Chelsea pursed her lips. “Miss Grimm, as a trainee Watcher, you do not get to choose your assignment. You go where we put you.”
“Of course,” I said, forcing a smile.
Chelsea took a step toward me and lowered her voice.
“Look, you may come from good stock, but you need to earn your place here, just like everyone else.”
“I understand,” I said, feeling my face heat up.
“Good, because if you screw up, I won’t hesitate to kick your ass out of here and I will see to it personally that you never get within ten feet of the Watcher Academy again.”



About the Author:

S. K. Gregory is the author of several urban fantasy, paranormal romance and young adult novels. She runs a blog that supports indie authors by offering book reviews and promotions.

She is an editor and proofreader with JEA Press.




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Wednesday, December 4, 2019

INTERVIEW WITH ROXANNE BLAND (The Underground)



As we head into the hectic Christmas festivities, it's nice to have an author drop by and say hello. Welcome, Roxanne Bland. Tell us a little bit about your main character of this book.

RB: Well really, there are four. I’ll start with the werewolf, Parker Berenson. He’s a real sweetheart, the kind of man you’d introduced to your mother, and he’ll kill you only if you deserve it. Shen’zae Melera, a badass but war-weary alien assassin, falls for Parker because she sees in him shadows of her world that is now lost forever. Garrett Larking is a mage with a noble goal but she’ll stop at nothing to reach it, no matter who gets hurt. Kurt is a powerful vampire who rules over Seattle’s paranormals. He’s cruel but his cruelty has a purpose—helping the city’s paranormal population to survive the human horde that would exterminate them without mercy.
SC: A werewolf and an alien. I think I know the answer, but do you believe in the paranormal and if so, do you have an experience you can share?

RB: Oh, yes! Up until about a decade ago, my house—well over a century old—was a hotbed of activity. Things would disappear and reappear somewhere else, things like that. But my strangest—and most memorable—experience was with time shrinkage, or whatever it’s called. I lived in a densely populated area, and I had to go to an event in a city about forty or so miles away. As usual, I was late. I hopped into my car and drove like speeding tickets didn’t exist. Along the way, I noticed how few cars seemed to be on the road, which was weird because where I lived, rush hour never really ends. As far as I was concerned though, the fewer cars, the better. So I arrive at my destination and ask the valet the time. My jaw dropped. I couldn’t believe what he told me—only ten minutes had passed from when I’d started out. I will tell you that there was no way I could make it from where I lived to my destination in ten minutes, no matter how fast I was driving, and traffic or no traffic. And returning from the event took the normal amount of time—about an hour. So I’ve no idea what happened and it hasn’t happened since, which is a shame because it would make my commute so much easier!
SC: I have had that happen to me, Roxanne. So I know exactly what you are talking about.  What titles are you working on now that you can tell us about?

RB: The first is The Final Victim, I hope to have completed by February. It’s connected to my new release The Underground, but it’s not part of that saga. Like, there are only one or to scenes where the events intersect. The daughter of the chair of Seattle’s Grand Elven Council is found murdered. Her murderer is the demon serial killer that has been stalking the city, a major component of The Underground. Like The Underground, dark themes permeate The Final Victim, the same dark themes that are so much a part of our own reality.
The second is titled When Gods Die, the sequel to a science fiction romance novel I wrote about five years ago. In this book, a deadly virus that afflicted only the common people has mutated and now afflicts the gods. Our demi-goddess heroine who’d developed the original cure now must find a cure for this one before it becomes known to the commoners that the immortal gods aren’t so immortal after all, which could have dire consequences for them—and for her.

SC: Thanks for stopping by today. Let's take a look at your novel now.


The Underground
Roxanne Bland

Genre: Paranormal Urban Fantasy/
Romance/Science Fiction Hybrid

Publisher: Blackrose Press

Date of Publication: Oct. 1, 2019

ISBN: 9780996731621 (print)
ISBN: 9780996731638 (electronic)
ASIN: B07X6RRL5B

Number of pages: 376
Word Count: 100,261

Cover Artist: Zelena

Tagline: There’s no room for morals when survival is at stake.

Book Description:

In an alternate Seattle, communities of “exotics”—shapeshifters, witches, elves and vampires—live among the murderous human population and are ruled over by the cruel vampire Master, Kurt.

The powerful alpha male of the werewolf pack, Parker Berenson, is one of the Master’s enslaved servants and he would like nothing more than to hasten the downfall of the vampire overlord who stole his love, the beautiful mage Garrett Larkin.

But in a night city already on the razor’s edge—in the midst of a spate of bloody murders—Parker’s passionate encounter with a stunning interstellar assassin could upset the very delicate balance and ignite a war neither exotics nor humans can survive

Amazon       Smashwords        Kobo      BN


Excerpt:

CHAPTER 1    

“Stay human. Stay human. Stay human.”
Parker Berenson, alpha of Seattle’s werewolf pack, slammed the door to his aging brown Chevrolet Caprice. “Stay human. Stay human.” Hands clenched into fists, his feet pounded the icy pavement leading from the driveway to his blue-gray stucco house. Though the February fourth night was unusually bitter and he wore neither overcoat nor jacket, he didn’t feel cold. Sweat streamed down his face and neck. His white dress shirt was soaked, as were his trousers. Tiny tendrils of steam rising from his muscular shoulders made him look as if he were smoldering.
His wolf’s hard push against the mental bonds that held him inside their shared body and mind made Parker stumble. Fuck staying human. I want out! he roared.
Regaining his balance, he ignored his beast as best he could and kept walking. “Stay human. Just stay human.”
I’m—
“At least wait until we get inside,” he said through his teeth.
The porch light was out again, but Parker could see by the streetlamps’ ambient glow. He shoved his key into the front door lock and gave it a savage twist. The bolt didn’t move. Using more pressure, he tried again and nearly snapped the key in two. “Open, you sonofa…” he muttered, jiggling the key in its slot.
That’s it, his wolf snarled and gave another hard mental shove. Tear the sucker off—
“No!”
The key finally turned. Parker threw the door open, stormed over the threshold, then banged the door shut.
One day, I swear-to-God, I’m gonna kill that—
“You and me both.” He leaned against the door, panting. “Now calm down, will you? Calm—”
Calm down? After what he did to us tonight? Again? Calm down my—
“Shut up. We need a drink.”
I don’t need a drink. I need—
“Shut up, I said.”
His wolf didn’t reply. That was a good sign.
Parker strode away from the small patch of faux-slate tiles that served as a tiny foyer. The room he marched across comprised nearly all of the main level. White walls supported glass and metal sculptures with jagged edges sharp enough to carve a holiday roast. These stood in stark contrast to the rest of the sparse furnishings—the clean, straight lines and ninety-degree angles formed by industrial-grade steel pipe. The black leather cushions on the sofa and chairs did little to soften the interior’s threatening appearance.
The decor wasn’t pretty but it had its uses. The lack of furniture allowed enough space for all of his wolves to sit when the pack met at his place. And in case his neighbors discovered what he was and decided to do something about it, the wall hangings and furniture could be broken into makeshift but lethal weapons.
Parker headed for the freestanding bar about twenty feet away. He grabbed the jumbo-sized Jack Daniel’s bottle from the counter and then snatched a double shot glass from a nearby rack. Pouring the glass full, he drank it in one gulp, ignoring the liquid fire searing his throat. He tossed down two more shots.
After his fourth drink, he felt at least some of the tension leave his shoulders. Holding the glass in two large, strong, and trembling—but very human—hands, he set it down on the upper counter. Leaning against the marble, he closed his eyes. “Okay. We’re okay now. Right?”
His wolf remained silent. Another good sign. The last thing he wanted was to morph into his other, a gargantuan man-wolf eight feet tall. A forced morph was triggered in werewolves by the full moon and sometimes, like now, by powerful emotions. And the greater the size differences between the human and were selves, the more agonizing the change. Parker-the-human stood six feet, six inches tall in his stocking feet. Morphing into his eight-foot were hurt like a knife-wielding bitch.
Parker had been just about to let out a sigh of relief when he caught a whiff of cologne clinging to his shirt. It wasn’t his. He ripped the still-wet shirt off and threw it across the room. His broad, hairy chest heaving with anger, he watched the discarded garment land in a crumpled heap about ten feet away.
No, we’re not okay, his wolf growled. Human, when are you going to wake up and smell the blood? That bastard is driving us insane.
“That bastard” was Kurt, the vampire Master. Old and extremely formidable, Kurt extended preternatural protection from Seattle’s human horde to just about every exotic—zot—that lived there. The smell Parker had picked up was the vampire’s favorite scent.
He poured a fifth shot of whiskey into the glass. “Quit calling me ‘human.’ Besides, what do you suggest we do about it? We’re Kurt’s servant. Bound to him by blood. Day or night, he calls, we come, and then we do whatever he wants.” He downed his drink and grimaced. “Like we’re his damned dog or something.”
His wolf’s anger surged. Guess you like it, huh? Like this, maybe? A mental picture flashed in their shared mind’s eye, one Parker would rather not have seen. Kurt’s grinning face was poised above him. He heard the seductive whispering in his ear and felt the sweet ecstasy of fangs piercing his flesh.
Parker’s face reddened. “You think I wanted to go down to Kurt’s nightclub tonight?” he shouted. “You think I wanted his hands on me? No. You know what he does. Takes over my mind and twists my head around until I’m practically begging for it.” He tossed down a sixth shot. “And while he’s doing it I sure don’t feel you trying to stop him.”
That’s bull and you know it.
“Shut up.” He poured himself an seventh shot and drained it, which was followed by an eighth. But Jack wasn’t doing the job. The humiliating images of what had happened to him and his wolf in Kurt’s office beneath the vampire’s Last Chance nightclub refused to fade.
Parker gripped the shot glass harder. His blood pressure skyrocketed. Rivers of sweat burst from his pores and ran down his face and chest. His wolf’s snarling inside their shared mind swelled into a howl. He started grinding his teeth, a sure sign he was going into a forced morph.
“Oh, shrrit!”





About the Author:

Award-winning author Roxanne Bland was born in the shadows of the rubber factory smokestacks in Akron, Ohio but grew up in Washington, D.C. As a child, she spent an inordinate amount of time prowling the museums of the Smithsonian Institution and also spent an inordinate amount of time reading whatever books she could get her hands on, including the dictionary. A self-described “fugitive from reality,” she has always colored outside the lines and in her early years of writing, saw no reason why a story couldn’t be written combining the genres she loved and did so despite being told it wasn’t possible. Today, she writes stories that are hybrids of paranormal urban fantasy, romance, and science fiction. Enamored of Great Danes, she has been owned by several and lives in Maryland with her current owner, Daisy Mae.







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