Posted in Adult Fantasy, Adult Fiction, Adult Paranormal, Gay Romance, LGBT Romance, LGBTQ, M/M, M/M Romance, M/M Urban Fantasy, Mature Fiction, Mature Romance, Mature Themes, New, New Release, Paranormal, Paranormal Romance, Romance, Romantic Paranormal, Urban Fantasy, Urban Fantasy Romance, Urban Fiction

Dark Rivers

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Book Title: Dark Rivers (Witchbane #2)

Author: Morgan Brice

Publisher: Darkwind Press

Cover Artist: Lou Harper

Genre/s: Urban Fantasy, MM paranormal romance

Length: approx. 85 000 words

 

Blurb

One hundred years ago, a sheriff’s posse killed dark warlock Rhyfel Gremory, but his witch-disciples escaped, and their magic made them nearly immortal. To keep their power, each year one of the witch-disciples kills a descendant of one of the men in the posse, a twelve-year cycle that has cost dozens of lives, including that of Seth Tanner’s brother, Jesse.

Seth uncovers the cycle of ritual killings that feeds the power of the witch-disciples, and he’s hell bent on getting vengeance for Jesse and stopping the murders. His fledgling romantic relationship with Evan Malone complicates his mission, but Seth can’t walk away. Seth and Evan are learning to navigate their partnership—as lovers and monster hunters—while they chase the next witch-disciple and avoid attracting the wrong kind of attention.

When the hunt takes Seth and Evan to Pittsburgh on the trail of the next killer, they’ll have to save the intended victim and take down the powerful witch. If the skills they possess and the bond between them isn’t enough, the evil will remain unchallenged, and more people will die…

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Excerpt

“If the sun hasn’t set yet, and there’s no moon, where’s that blue glow coming from?”

Clouds covered the sky, blotting out the dull, late-afternoon sun, and the overhead branches dimmed the light even more. Yet beneath the trees, the snow reflected a twilight indigo, and the shadows all around beneath the trees seemed to have grown darker.

Seth wasn’t a medium, and he had no talent for seeing or hearing the dead. But his experiences hunting supernatural creatures attuned him to the presence of things that went bump in the night, and now he was certain that they weren’t alone.

“We mean you no harm,” Seth said to the blue glow and the empty forest around them. “We’re just looking for information about the witch. Can you help us?”

A sparkling haze gradually filled in between the leafless trees, and as it shifted on the wind, Seth thought he saw forms and faces. Evan was already laying down a salt circle around where they stood, reinforcing it with iron filings. Both substances interfered with ghosts’ ability to manifest and sapped their strength to cause harm.

“Seth, look.” Evan pointed toward the hanging tree. Where only moments ago, it had been nothing but bare branches, now, a shadowed form swung slowly, suspended by a rope around its neck, the head tilted at an unnatural angle.

“We’re here to end the killing,” Seth said, forcing himself to look away from the hanged man, pushing back the memories of Jesse’s body, suspended like that, soaked with blood. As if he could guess Seth’s thoughts, Evan placed a hand on Seth’s forearm, grounding him to the here and now. “We want to stop the witch that caused your pain, keep him from hurting anyone else.”

Overhead, a cold wind stirred the branches, and the trees creaked and rattled. Seth shivered as the temperature dropped. Figures now stood amid the headstones in the old cemetery, and their stance suggested that they were ready for a fight.

“Give me something I can use to stop the witch,” Seth begged the ghosts. “He went by many names—Thane. Carmody. Brunrichter. Wiegand. Whatever he called himself—we want to make him stop.”

The wind carried the whispers of spectral voices, and the blue mist roiled with internal energy. Evan yanked off his gloves, then withdrew a small slate writing board and a piece of chalk from the pocket of his parka. As Seth continued to talk to the ghosts, he saw out of the corner of his eye as Evan carefully drew one of the sigils he’d been practicing, a bit of rote magic that was likely to come in handy.

Seth feared they might need to fight their way clear since the ghosts seemed more interested in intimidation than supplying information.

Seth’s eyes widened as he saw movement. An invisible hand traced shaky block letters on a snow-covered embankment beside the road. W-A-T-C-H.

“Watch?” Seth repeated aloud. “Watch out? Watch for something?”

He could feel the press of spirits all around them, and Seth remembered that the ghosts of Blue Mist Road had a reputation for being unfriendly to intruders. Whatever their cryptic message meant, Seth had the feeling they had worn out their welcome.

The mist grew thick around them. Seth realized that the ominous figures from the cemetery had moved closer and that the hanged man was no longer suspended from his noose. He and Evan were safe for the moment within the salt circle, but they were also trapped inside their sanctuary.

“Ready?” Evan asked. He’d been practicing the small magicks that involved drawing arcane symbols and activating them with concentration; those had come more easily to him than the spoken spells Seth had learned. Seth recognized the drawing Evan made on the slate and hoped to hell the banishment sigil worked.

“Go for it,” he said, crossing his fingers.

Evan closed the last line on the sigil and placed his fingertips on the magical symbol, imbuing it with his will and life energy. The drawing flared gold and then white, so bright Seth and Evan had to avert their eyes as a blast wave of light radiated all around them.

When they opened their eyes, the blue mist and the spirits it harbored were gone, as was the writing in the snow.

“Come on,” Seth said, grabbing Evan by the arm and pulling him toward the truck. “Let’s get out of here before they decide to come back.

 

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About the Author

Morgan Brice is the romance pen name of bestselling author Gail Z. Martin. Morgan writes urban fantasy male/male paranormal romance, with plenty of action, adventure and supernatural thrills to go with the happily ever after. Gail writes epic fantasy and urban fantasy, and together with co-author hubby Larry N. Martin, steampunk and comedic horror, all of which have less romance, more explosions. Look for her other books—Witchbane, Burn (a Witchbane novella #1.5 ), and Badlands.

 

Author Links

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Facebook Group: The Worlds of Morgan Brice

Twitter: @MorganBriceBook

Pinterest: Morgan Brice board

 

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Posted in Apocalyptic Fiction, Mature Fiction, Mature Romance, Mature Themes, New, New Release, Urban Fiction

The Visionary

 Title: The Visionary
Author: Jo Michaels
Genre: Urban Fiction/Apocalyptic Fiction
Editor: Tia Silverthorne Bach with INDIE Books Gone Wild
Publication Date: October 22nd, 2018
Closeup shot of female face with day makeup and green pistachio colour eyes
Blurb:
It’s one year until the apocalypse of 12.21.12 is supposed to take place.
Burning buildings, screaming babies, and death will surround us.
It will be the end of the world.
That can’t be allowed.
When six powerful women come together with one goal—to save humanity—they’ll get much more than they bargained for. They join forces and learn to use the gifts hidden within themselves to battle a monster feeding off something too many of us feel in our souls: Hate. But they must first learn how to forgive—themselves as well as others.
Hate is birthing a creature dwelling under Central Park in New York, and the fiend is eager to burst forth and sink his fangs into the Earth.
The Fury, The Visionary, The Beguiler, The Siren, The Prophet, and The Mystic are our last hope, and even they aren’t sure if they can win.
The end is coming, but with it, there may be a new beginning.
 

Jo Michaels is…

Hi, I’m Jo. Let’s forget all the “Jo Michaels is blah, blah, blah” stuff and just go with it. I’m a voracious reader (often reading more than one book at a time), a writer, a book reviewer, a mom, a wife, and one of the EICs at INDIE Books Gone Wild. I have an almost photographic memory and tend to make people cringe at the number of details I can recall about them and/or their book(s). My imagination follows me around like a conjoined twin and causes me to space out pretty often or laugh out loud randomly in completely inappropriate situations.
I have a degree in graphic design, and my journey to the end was one few students who begin that program ever complete. However, this was one case where my memory and OCD tendencies helped me. Graduation was one of the most amazing days of my life. But, my most amazing day was when my now husband proposed. Every little girl dreams of being Cinderella someday, and he pulled off the proposal of fantasies.
At the risk of sounding cliché, I’m going to let it out there and say how much I absolutely adore the man I’m married to. Along with my children, he’s my whole world.
I’ve lived in Louisiana, Tennessee, and Georgia, but I’ve had my feet in almost every state. Traveling is something I adore, and have plans to someday see the Mongolia I’ve written about in Yassa.
One of my favorite things is hearing from fans! You can find me on social media most any day of the week. Connect! I’d love to hear from you.
Author Links:
Buy Links:
Chapter 1 ~ Charmed
Lily Conyers sat in her yellow BMW convertible and stared at the beach where her friends were playing in the surf. Kat fell down and came up with a red face and a scowl. Lily tossed her head back and laughed aloud; she figured Bea had tripped the girl. Those two were always going head-to-head. What silly things women do to one another out of a desire to win at nothing in particular.
After watching a few more minutes, Lily tilted her seat back and closed her eyes. She knew she led a great life. For her twentieth birthday, she’d attended no less than ten parties at various celebrities’ houses. There were a lot of people that would pay to have a model of her caliber show up at their parties, but she never accepted money for her appearances. Those shindigs were usually the ones where heavy drug use was the order of the night. There were often a lot of narcotics on hand at the cheaper parties as well, but she never partook, and no one seemed to mind. At the pricier parties, it was expected she’d use. That wasn’t her bag. She’d seen what it did to careers and wanted no part of it.
It was the people in the modeling business who weren’t successful yet that she loved being around most. They still knew how to have a good time without getting blasted out of their minds.
Being over five-foot-five was certainly an asset, but a girl didn’t have to be tall if she could project properly. Lily was considered above average with her five-foot-ten-inch frame, and she knew the other girls envied her face, hair, and body. That envy made her feel good about being Lily, but she was careful not to be a bitch about it.
Not that she didn’t work for it. She spent hours in the gym with her personal trainer every day and at least two hours a twice a month at the salon and spa near her beach house.
“There’s no such thing as natural beauty,” Denarius said every time she visited him. It had a ring of truth to it. A person couldn’t expect to put in no effort and just be fabulous all the time. Of course, the raw material had to be good to begin with. She had that in spades.
She hadn’t wanted to come to the beach, but something told her if she didn’t, she’d regret it later. So far it’d been a wash.
“Hey, beautiful,” said a male voice nearby.
Without even so much as a glance at the speaker, Lily flipped her middle finger in the direction it had come from. She didn’t need man trouble. Her boyfriend was a supermodel, too, and he’d hit the roof if he caught her with some low-life. Best not to chance it.
Figuring she looked tempting with one bare leg hanging out of the car, she pulled it in and shut the door. It was better to be incognito than invite trouble in and feed it cookies.
She sighed as she thought about Wilhelm. He had the whole package: intelligence, good-looks, loyalty, and he was in the same line of work. They’d done a number of campaigns together for high-profile clients. Every shoot was new in its own way, and they rocked their photographer’s world by coming up with interesting poses never before seen.
Wilhelm had been in her life for over three years. They’d met in their junior year of high school and had gotten their first job together not long after. Never thinking about dating him, she was surprised when he’d asked her out the day they graduated. It was a whirlwind romance, and he’d been by her side through a lot of tough times.
His mother kept asking when he was going to propose. They’d both usually blush and look away but never denied they were thinking of going in that direction. Even though he’d been great to Lily, she knew something was holding him back. What it was, only time would tell. Maybe he wanted to wait until after the two-year mark. After all, it hadn’t even been a year yet since they had that first date. She sighed and gazed for a minute at her left hand where an engagement ring might sit, imagining what a sparkly diamond would look like with her fabulous manicure.
Lily moved her seat to the upright position and stared at the waves with longing before hopping out of the car and running toward her friends in the water. They played and splashed in the surf for a little while until she started to feel the sun through her SPF sixty. She suggested they all get out of the heat for a bit by visiting their favorite restaurant on the pier, Scats.
Kat spoke up and sounded like an ambulance when she began to whine. “Guyyyyys. Noooooooooo. I don’t want go sit in therrrrre.”
Lily rolled her eyes; she hated whining. “Okay, Kat, calm down. What did you want to do?”
Bea turned away from Kat with an eye roll as well.
“I wanna go flirt with boys.” Kat had a wicked gleam in her eyes.
“No. We have that party later, and you’ll have plenty of guys to flirt with there. I can feel my damned skin melting off my bones. I’d think you wouldn’t want a sunburn on the day you’re gonna meet a bunch of, like, huge name photographers. Russell James is coming!” Lily threw her hands out to the sides to make her point.
Kat dropped her head and stuck out her bottom lip. It was that pout that landed her the modeling contract she had.
Lily wasn’t buying it; she’d seen it too many times before. “Stop that. Grow up.”
Kat shot a scathing glance, her pout turning from “poor me” to “screw you” in under a second.
Lily decided she was too tired to be at the beach anyway and begged off with the excuse she needed to rest before the late night so she’d look like the model she was. There wasn’t even a suggestion flung out for the other girls to do the same; she knew they would because they’d want to try and outshine her. After air kissing everyone goodbye, she dried off, got in the car, and pulled out of the lot.
She drove home in a good mood, listening to the radio full-blast and letting her hair get whipped around by the wind. One song later, and she pulled into the garage, closing the door behind her.
Her phone began to ring when she placed her purse on the island in the kitchen, and she scrambled for it, knowing it was Wilhelm.
“Hello, you sexy, sexy man!” she said by way of greeting.
“Hi, gorgeous; you comin’ to the party tonight?”
“You know it. I wouldn’t miss this one for the world. I just walked in. Long day at the beach with the bratty bunch.” She laughed at her own joke.
“I know what you mean. Those girls rub me the wrong way.”
For a split-second, she wondered if that was an innuendo for something else.
~~~~
After sitting for an hour with her thoughts and watching the girl next door, Lily decided to do the decent thing, and she took her beach umbrella down, stuck it in the sand, and opened it over the girl’s sleeping form before stumbling back to the house. Grabbing the empty tumbler, Lily staggered through the door, put the container on the bar, and collapsed on the couch.
She was awakened hours later by the doorbell ringing. Her head pounded behind her eyes as she fumbled her way to the door, cursed the locks, and jerked it open to find the weird tattooed girl standing there.
“Can I help you?” Lily asked.
“Yeah, are you the one this umbrella belongs to?” The girl thrust the umbrella out.
“I am.”
“Well, thanks for putting it up out there for me. I would’ve been burned to a crisp if not for you.” She winked, stuck out her hand, and introduced herself. “I’m Markaza Turner. Nice to meet you…?”
The end sounded like a question, so Lily responded, “Lily Conyers.”
“Yes! That’s what the label said. Sorry.”
She then reached her hand out and took Markaza’s. A look crossed her face like Lily had used a stun gun instead of a hand. She tried to let go, but Markaza seemed to be in some sort of a trance or something and had one hell of a grip. When she finally snapped out of it, Lily withdrew her hand and shivered. Something about that encounter was strange, and she wondered what had just happened.
She narrowed her eyes. “Just put the umbrella on the back porch, please. Thanks for bringing it back.” With that, she backed up, shut the door, and ran to a window nearby to watch what Markaza would do next.
She stood looking at the door for a long moment, as if she were willing it to open back up, before tucking the umbrella under her arm and heading around to the deck at the back of the house.
Lily followed the movements from the inside to make sure nothing got stolen.
Posted in Adult Fiction, Apocalyptic Fiction, Mature Fiction, Mature Themes, New, New Release, Series, Urban, Urban Fiction

The Fury

Title: The Fury
Author: Jo Michaels
Genre: Urban Fiction/Apocalyptic Fiction
Editor: Tia Silverthorne Bach with INDIE Books Gone Wild
Publication Date: October 8th, 2018
Blurb:
It’s one year until the apocalypse of 12.21.12 is supposed to take place.
Burning buildings, screaming babies, and death will surround us.
It will be the end of the world.
That can’t be allowed.
When six powerful women come together with one goal—to save humanity—they’ll get much more than they bargained for. They join forces and learn to use the gifts hidden within themselves to battle a monster feeding off something too many of us feel in our souls: Hate. But they must first learn how to forgive—themselves as well as others.
Hate is birthing a creature dwelling under Central Park in New York, and the fiend is eager to burst forth and sink his fangs into the Earth.
The Fury, The Visionary, The Beguiler, The Siren, The Prophet, and The Mystic are our last hope, and even they aren’t sure if they can win.
The end is coming, but with it, there may be a new beginning.
~~~
A word from the author.
ON HATE:
I wish for nothing more than a world where people understand the Golden Rule and actually live by it. As you read this series, try to understand what hate does when brought down upon the head of someone who’s different or who makes choices other than what you might have made. Try to walk a mile in someone else’s shoes. Learn how hate can grow and be nearly impossible to stop. Study how to be accepting to those who didn’t choose the path you did. Discover their reasoning instead of casting them off or putting them down. I promise you, they’re struggling anyway. Don’t make their fight more difficult than it already is.
I wrote this series in the hope of opening eyes to a few of the struggles people battle every day, and I hope it changes at least one heart or mind for the better.
Love one another, and go in peace.
Buy Link: 
Jo Michaels is…
Hi, I’m Jo. Let’s forget all the “Jo Michaels is blah, blah, blah” stuff and just go with it. I’m a voracious reader (often reading more than one book at a time), a writer, a book reviewer, a mom, a wife, and one of the EICs at INDIE Books Gone Wild. I have an almost photographic memory and tend to make people cringe at the number of details I can recall about them and/or their book(s). My imagination follows me around like a conjoined twin and causes me to space out pretty often or laugh out loud randomly in completely inappropriate situations.
I have a degree in graphic design, and my journey to the end was one few students who begin that program ever complete. However, this was one case where my memory and OCD tendencies helped me. Graduation was one of the most amazing days of my life. But, my most amazing day was when my now husband proposed. Every little girl dreams of being Cinderella someday, and he pulled off the proposal of fantasies.
At the risk of sounding cliché, I’m going to let it out there and say how much I absolutely adore the man I’m married to. Along with my children, he’s my whole world.
I’ve lived in Louisiana, Tennessee, and Georgia, but I’ve had my feet in almost every state. Traveling is something I adore, and have plans to someday see the Mongolia I’ve written about in Yassa.
One of my favorite things is hearing from fans! You can find me on social media most any day of the week. Connect! I’d love to hear from you.
 
Author Links:
 
Buy Link: 
 
 
Chapter One – Markaza
Markaza Turner gazed into her crystal ball for the fifth time since her birthday. From her dream in December, she knew she had to find five girls, but she’d only managed to see the locations of four so far. I wonder if my abilities are getting rusty. Surely, I should’ve seen the fifth before New Year’s Eve. It was January second already, and she felt like she was losing time—which she was. She shook her head to clear the thoughts bouncing around, gnashed her teeth, and concentrated harder. Her patience paid off when her ball began to fog up once more. Leaning in closer, she peered into the depths of the glass orb on the little table situated in the living room as she prayed her mother didn’t walk in.
A view of the entire United States was how the locations first appeared. Then, like on those cop shows where they say, “Zoom and enhance,” Markaza’s subject always came into view one step at a time. So far, she had young women in San Diego, California; Atlanta, Georgia; Chattanooga, Tennessee; and her very own New York, New York. The next one seemed to be in Texas, Louisiana, or Arkansas. She narrowed her eyes at the ball and sucked in a sharp breath when it panned over and zipped right down near the Gulf of Mexico into Houma, Louisiana. Great, being a mosquito feast is not on my bucket list. Oh well…
As she watched, her subject came into view. Wow, the girl is big. Markaza’s saw a bathroom and the girl slamming the door open, sending Markaza flying into the wall on the other side. She groaned and winced. Getting hit is never fun. When the scene shifted, the new girl was showing her class schedule, and Markaza could clearly see the name printed across the top: Bronya Thibodeaux. It was scrawled onto the list in the notebook nearby, along with the location and class schedule, before Markaza’s attention was turned back to the glass. Her palms got sweaty as she stared, wondering what kind of trouble she was getting herself into.
Her ball fogged up again, and she saw Bronya walking down a road with a suitcase in her hand and another very beautiful girl standing in the road, shaking her fists, and screaming. Next to the road was a sign: Thank You for Visiting Houma! Come Back Soon! Don’t Return Lezbo! The red paint and hurtful words on the sign screamed out at Markaza. As if Bronya would ever plan on going back to that. Markaza’s eyes filled with tears as her heart broke. She noted the obvious issue and turned back once again.
Another fog up and the scene cleared to showed six girls in a circle around a huge monster with green venom dripping from foot-long fangs, red eyes that glittered like rubies in a spotlight, and black skin that looked like it was formed of pieces of garbage glued together with tar. Bronya lifted a hand, and red lights began to spin around it. She made a gesture at the monster and it recoiled like it had been punched in the face. Awesome. Bronya’s my fury.
~~~~~
Markaza started to protest, but Bronya insisted, anger at not being able to voice the reason why making her a little meaner than she meant to be. She was instantly sorry, but she bolted from the car when it stopped, quelling the argument.
As she strolled down the road, she admired the deep ditches on either side that were a cacophony of life. Frogs croaking and basking on rocks and dragonflies zooming around eating smaller bugs were two of the things she loved most about Louisiana nature, and the cypress and pine trees smelled wonderful, the Spanish moss dripping off the branches as though trying to reach the water below. Suddenly, she heard gravel crunching behind her and stopped, spinning around. That damned girl was following, her eyes everywhere but the path in front of her. It seemed she was as enthralled with her surroundings as Bronya had been. She crossed her arms over her chest and waited. Sure enough, Markaza walked right into her friend.
“Just what in the hell do you think you’re doing?” Bronya thought she’d been perfectly clear about not wanting to be followed, but that didn’t seem to be the case.
Reaching into her pocket, Markaza produced her cell phone. “I forgot to give you my number and didn’t get yours.” She flipped it open and proceeded to add a new entry: Bronya Thibodeaux—and looked up.
“Fine.” Bronya rattled off the number. “Happy now?” She’d tried to keep the irritation out of her voice, and she knew she hadn’t done a good job, but Markaza smiled anyway.
“No. What about mine?”
Digging the ugly prepaid phone out of a pocket, Bronya punched in the numbers given to her along with the name. “Now?”
“Yes. Thank you.”
Bronya rolled her eyes, turned, and stalked away. She could feel Markaza watching and wondered when she was going to leave. It was bad enough she was rich; if she saw where Bronya lived, there would be no friendship to follow—of that, she was positive. Wealthy people didn’t surround themselves with the poor.