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How far is too far to go to save someone you love?
Brandon Lynch is magical. He’s a scintilla, wielder of electricity and is in love with a werewolf—or maybe he’s just in love with the idea of loving a werewolf?
Raul Fierro is a bounty hunter and a werewolf. He knows he loves Brandon. He’s made a promise to always protect Brandon and will carry out that promise at all costs.
When Brandon and Raul go head to head with human traffickers, Brandon’s morals are stretched to their limits. Will Raul keeping his promise tear them apart?
Raul continued to stare at Brandon until he dropped his gaze to the floor. Leaning close to Brandon, Raul whispered in his ear, “Get in the van, lock the door and don’t open it unless it’s me.” He pressed the keys into Brandon’s palm and whispered, “Dealing with criminals is what I do. Trust me.”
Brandon pulled his lower lip between his teeth and bit down before curling his fingers around the keys. “I do… trust you, that is.”
Raul nudged Brandon into the van. “Good. If I’m not back in ten get out of here and call Tad and Janey, tell them I need help. Fahim can have them here in minutes.”
“You know I can—”
“Ever been in a bar fight?”
Brandon shook his head no.
“Elbowed another player in a game of pickup? Shoved someone?” Raul paused, and Brandon shook his head again. “Kicked a kid on the playground?”
“Sometimes the best defense is being able to throw a punch.” Raul winked. “Stay in the van.” He gently closed the door before stripping off the rest of his clothes, leaving them in a pile next to the vehicle.
It was a common misconception that werewolves looked and acted like actual wolves when transformed. Where the term werewolf even came from Raul had no idea, though he knew it was used as far back as there was written history. He’d seen photographs of cave drawings depicting werewolves and humans—magical or otherwise—jinn and any number of other types of so-called mythical or supernatural beings he interacted with daily. None of this was new.
35 books by 35 different authors: A.D. Ellis, Annabelle Jacobs, Anne Barwell, BA Tortuga, Becca Seymour, Beth Laycock, BL Maxwell, Charley Descoteaux, Clare London, E.J. Russell, Edie Montreux, Elizabeth Noble, Emma Jaye, Garrett Leigh, H.L Day, Irene Preston & Liv Rancourt, Jackie Keswick, Jay Northcote, K-lee Klein, Kaje Harper, Kasia Bacon, Leta Blake, Lillian Francis, Meredith Spies, Minerva Howe, N.R. Walker, Nora Phoenix, Rebecca Cohen, Rhys Lawless, RJ Scott, Roan Parrish,
Talia Carmichael, V.L. Locey, Victoria Sue
Check out this collection HERE.
This week's Tuesday Teaser is from For the Long Run.
Deciding he had plenty of time to work out that problem starting tomorrow, Eric yawned and pulled into his drive, happy to be home. Getting his clothes off quickly, he draped them over a chair. He’d deal with his laundry tomorrow. Right now he was plain worn out and fighting off a dull headache. Stretching, he headed to the bathroom and turned on the shower, happy to get under the hot spray of water.
Wandering through the house, he collected something to drink, a magazine, and his phone, checking for messages. There were none. Settling on his bed to read for a bit and unwind so he could sleep, Eric couldn’t help smiling at the thought of poor Jay having fallen asleep all sticky and itchy from dried sweat and cum.
Or worse, forced to sit politely and have a conversation with his parents.
He’d make sure to make it all up to the kid tomorrow and put a bright, happy smile on Jay’s face.
He fanned through the magazine a few times, getting little more out of it than the breeze the pages moving created. When he realized he wasn’t really focusing on anything in particular, not even the pictures, he dropped the magazine onto his night table, drained his glass, and switched off the light. Shimmying under the sheet and blankets, Eric got as comfortable as possible, refusing to dwell too much on the fact he was a little bit lonely. It was only one night, and he was a grown-up; he should be able to cope much better.
The obnoxious cop-show theme ringtone Jay had put on his phone blared. Sighing and smiling, Eric rolled over and grabbed the phone, wondering why Jay got the cop-show ringtone and not him. “Hey, buddy,” he yawned out. “I just about gave up on you tonight.”
Jay’s soft, wet “Eric” had him sitting up, turning on the light, and any smart-ass comment died before it got out of his mouth.
“Jay, are you okay? What’s wrong?”
“I… God, my dad, he….”
“He what?” Eric shouted, picturing Jay’s cringe and immediately feeling guilty. He was suddenly frustrated and afraid some harm had come to Jay.
“Don’t yell, I’ve had enough of that crap for one night,” Jay snapped, though his voice was a low, raspy whisper.
Throwing the blankets off, Eric swung around until he was sitting on the edge of the bed. “I’m coming to get you. Are you at home?”
“Eric, no. Don’t come here. I—I just wanted to hear your voice. My dad went ballistic over the locks to the house, like I should be grounded or some stupid shit. He’s an asshole. My mom told me they split up, and she moved to an apartment almost six months ago. Which, according to him, is my fault too.”
“Don’t be absurd, of course it wasn’t your fault.” Eric ran his free hand through his hair and took a few deep breaths. Jay’s words were coming too fast, slightly slurred and unsteady. “Did he hurt you? I want you to come here if you don’t want me there, but you’re not staying alone with him right now. Your mother needs to be out of there too.” Images of too many domestic violence victims—adults, children, men, women, gay, straight—that Eric had seen over the years thundered through his head.
For the Long Run is available in eBook, paperback
and is in Kindle Unlimited.
My snippet this week is from Gone Away!
Staying low to the ground, Mason moved quickly back to Riece’s side. Closing his eyes and sighing with relief, Riece reached out, took Mason’s hand, and gave it a squeeze. When he tried to let go, Mason’s grip intensified, and he pulled Riece closer to him and brushed his lips over Riece’s forehead.
“We’re going to survive. Both of us. Together. Don’t think anything else, even for a second,” Mason whispered.
Riece nodded. “I know.”
“Did they take your water purifier?”
“No. They searched me and my bag and left me everything except the locator beacon.” Riece studied Mason for a few seconds. “I guess they wanted us to have some supplies to survive longer.”
Visit the Rainbow Snippets Facebook group for more snippets.
There is still time to get Gone Away at the special price of $2.99 (sale ends 10/18/2021). Gone Away is available in eBook, paperback and is in Kindle Unlimited.
Warren Rochelle has a new queer SFF anthology out: To Bring Him Home and Other Tales. And there's a giveaway!
We all need a place to call home, a place where we belong, and are safe, and loved. For the lovers in these stories, finding home is easier said than done. Quests must be taken; dragons must be slain. Rocket launchers need to be dodged. Sometimes one might have to outrun the Wild Hunt, and sometimes they have to reimagine and recreate home. But these lovers do find homes, homes in each other’s hearts.
Warren is giving away an Amazon gift card with this tour:
He found his mother in her bathroom, lying on the bathmat by the tub, like a discarded hotel towel, white and crumpled. Fletcher knelt down and touched her bruised face, tenderly traced the hand prints on her skin. Cold. He then pressed his fingers against the veins in her neck. No pulse. Wishing he could cry for her, he put the same fingers under her nose. No breath, Dead. Emptied. He picked up her arm and it flopped as if boneless, She was wearing her bathrobe. He pulled it close, to hide her body.
Fletcher knew where to look, upstairs, behind the locked attic door. Through the door he could hear what he had come to call Paul’s favorite music, soft, far away, with harps and wind chimes, and what sounded like the wind, and the rain, storms. and voices singing in a strange language he had never been able to identify. The music sort of reminded him of the wind chimes on Sam’s porch. Of course.
He tried the knob. This time the door was unlocked.
“Fletcher. You’re awake. I knew you’d come up here,” his stepfather said in his cold and dark voice. He sat at a desk facing a door frame standing in the middle of the attic. Inside the door frame: darkness. Around it, Fletcher could see the rest of the attic: the shelves, the file cabinets, the odd boxes. The skylight was open, mid-day sun streamed in. Even so, the room was cold, a cold that was coming through the door, as if blown by some faraway wind. Paul’s black staff leaned against the door frame. He closed a little carved box on his desk and the music stopped.
“What did you do with Sam? Where is he? Where are his parents?” Fletcher asked, shivering and hugging himself against the cold.
“Where they belong,” Paul said, leaning back in his chair. “The dreams have escaped for millennia—even before Her Majesty came to power—into human minds. Fairy tales, myths, story upon story. A few times, the different peoples and creatures slipped through—what was it your hero said?—‘there were many chinks or chasms between worlds in old times’?—yes, I’ve read all those stories, too; they were useful to me. That was before Her Majesty. So, there are people like you and your mother, fey-touched, gifted with Sight that lets you see through glamour. Very useful to people like me.”
Fletcher swallowed the scream in his throat, knowing he had to listen, to understand, not to let this man get to him, break him into tears. “Where is Sam? What kind of a person are you?”
“I told you: There. You can call it Narnia if you like, or what did Tolkien call it? Never mind. The Celts came up with many other names, such as Tir n’Og, the Blessed Isles. Words and sounds can be dreamt, too; echoes can linger. She can’t stop the dreams of what once was, of once upon a time—slow them down, but not stop them. But Her Majesty can and must stop those who escape her winter,” Paul said, as he sorted what looked like rolls of parchment, stuffing some back into tubes, into different parts of his desk. “I am a bounty hunter, a tracker, and you, my dear Fletcher, and your mother, are my canaries.”
My dreams. I dreamed of the neighbor, I dreamed of Sam. Now I know where his music comes from.
“They hadn’t planned on Sam falling in love and having sex quite just yet, which shattered the weak child’s glamour—and I smelled him on you, his magic,” Paul said, his words dripping disdain and scorn.
Paul shrugged and Fletcher hated him for it. “I needed her energy to open the gate—I was running a little low. A few days from now, no problem. You want him back?”
Fletcher slowly and carefully nodded his head.
“You think you’re in love. Fletcher! What do you know about love—who have you ever loved or who’s loved you? And when he asked for you, at the moment of peril, you pulled back. Don’t be a fool: you’re not in love.”
“My father loved me; I loved him. My mother—before you used her for food. Sam loves me.”
“Then go get him. Into Faerie. No happy elves, no dancing fauns, no chatty mice, no heroes with magic swords. No performing Lion, just Her Majesty’s winter. No English
children. Your boyfriend’s there, Fletcher. Or you could stay here and help me—starting with finding that sanctuary. Do you know how old I am? Her Majesty rewards her faithful: I am two hundred and thirteen of your years old. I have anything I want.”
I want Sam. “Live that long, be like you? No. I love Sam.”
“You’ve known him a week and you’re in love. That really is a fairy tale. You just think you do,” Paul said, dismissing Fletcher’s feelings with a flip of his hand. “You can have any boy you want, any way you want—like I said, Her Majesty rewards her faithful. Besides, you’re a coward,” Paul added, laughing.
Fletcher knew that Paul would never understand, could never understand, that even the uncertainty was enough, that the brightness in his heart, the geodes in his pocket, were enough, even if the week had been just the promise of what would come. Could have come. Might come. Maybe he was a coward. He certainly was afraid, and very good at being afraid. But life had found him, and being afraid didn’t mean he couldn’t go through that dark gate.
“Find yourself another canary,” Fletcher said and before Paul could stop him, ran across the room, through the door frame, into the dark, into the fairy tale.
Warren Rochelle lives in Charlottesville, Virginia, and has just retired from teaching English at the University of Mary Washington. His short fiction and poetry have been published in such journals and anthologies as Icarus, North Carolina Literary Review, Forbidden Lines, Aboriginal Science Fiction, Collective Fallout, Queer Fish 2, Empty Oaks, Quantum Fairy Tales, Migration, The Silver Gryphon, Jaelle Her Book, Colonnades, and Graffiti, as well as the Asheville Poetry Review, GW Magazine, Crucible, The Charlotte Poetry Review, Romance and Beyond, Migration, and Innovation.
Rochelle is the author of four novels: The Wild Boy (2001), Harvest of Changelings (2007), and The Called (2010), all published by Golden Gryphon Press, and The Werewolf and His Boy, published by Samhain Publishing in September 2016. The Werewolf and His Boy was re-released from JMS Books in August 2020. His first short story collection, The Wicked Stepbrother and Other Stories, was published by JMS Books in September 2020.
Both The Werewolf and His Boy and The Wicked Stepbrother and Other Stories, received strong reviews from blog tours in November 2020.
Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/warren.rochelle
Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/warrenwriter
Author Twitter: https://twitter.com/WarrenRochelle
Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/38355.Warren_Rochelle
My teaser this week is from Whiskey and Moonshine.
Colt hadn’t expected Mal to come after him. He’d hoped it would happen but was still unprepared when Mal showed up. Phillipe was meeting him at a coffee shop and then would drive Colt back to Phillipe’s apartment. It was a nice day, so Colt decided to walk the few blocks, grab some coffee and a snack, and wait for Phillipe in a small park across the street.
Hands full of his order, Colt slid out the double front door as a group of people walked in the other side. He had to hold the bag with his name on it up when a small child ran by so he didn’t bash the kid’s head with his bacon-and-cheese sandwich. Once on the sidewalk, he juggled everything in one hand for a few seconds so he could wrestle his phone from his pocket to let Phillipe know where he’d be waiting.
Someone bumped into him from behind, and he almost lost the coffee and chai. “Sorry,” he grumbled, even though he wasn’t at fault. The person behind him shoved harder against his back, and Colt thought he, or she, had stumbled and fallen, using Colt to catch themselves.
He started to turn around and see what was going on—possibly he could assist—when a second person pushed him from the side.
The cardboard tray with the hot drinks tumbled from Colt’s hand and hit the pavement. Colt barely had the chance to process that when someone grabbed his arm from behind. The second person slapped the bag of food from his other hand and grabbed his other arm. He was trapped between them and hustled around the corner into an alley.
Colt tried to yank his arms free and turn the tables with a few of the moves Mal had taught him. He failed miserably and ended up with his face slammed into a wall.
“Look at you, all dressed up. I tried to talk to you in Nashville, but I guess you’re too good for your old buddies.”
He knew that voice. The hair on the back of his neck rose, and gooseflesh pebbled his skin. A shudder ran down Colt’s spine.
“Nice clothes, fancy haircut, and little Colt thinks he’s all that and a bag of chips,” a second voice sneered.
Memory of pain accompanied the voice.
“Saw you on TV. We want in on your scam.”
Mary Rundle has a new MM paranormal audio out, Blaclwood Pack book 7: Serpent's Teardrop. And there's a giveaway!
The Blackwood Pack saga continues…
This is part of an on-going series by Amazon Bestselling Author, Mary Rundle, and catching up on previous titles is advised. Readers of the past books will enjoy meeting old friends once more as the pack does what it does best ̶ caring for one another and helping shifters everywhere.
Brian, a.k.a. “The Loch Ness Monster” has searched for his Fated Mate in vain for more than 600 years until he scents Reif in the frigid waters of the lake. But his mate seems to be purposely eluding him, so Brian turns to the Shaman of the Blackwood Pack to help find him.
Reif, one of a line of ancient shifters thought to be extinct is drawn to Brian but must focus on completing a mission to free his enslaved people from the clutches of an evil group. Despite his powerful attraction to Brian, he hides from him, believing it’s the only choice he has.
That changes when Reif surreptitiously kisses Brian while he’s sleeping, setting off a chain of events that puts both of them in mortal danger, and the powerful Blackwood pack resolves to help them stave off the wrath of vampires and witches.
Along the way, both Brian and Reif learn some hard lessons about the mutual trust necessary to achieve the happiness and fulfillment both have sought for hundreds of years.
A heartbreaking confession, an action-packed rescue, a riveting courtroom battle and many unexpected twists and turns make this passionate love story by Mary Rundle impossible to put down once you’ve read the first page.
Amazon US eBook | Amazon US Audio | Amazon UK Audio | Amazon Germany Audio | Amazon France Audio | iBooks Audio | QueeRomance Ink | Smashwords | Goodreads
Mary Rundle is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card and a “Love Queens” mug with this tour:
“Ye know it’s my Fated Mate?” Brian asked, in disbelief.
“Yes, my spirit told me,” replied Kieran. “Go ahead, I promise we’ll help you find him.”
“Him? Are you sure?” Brian asked.
“Yes,” Kieran said, softly.
Relieved to know that much at least, Brian began, “I was doing a back float when a passing boat’s wake carryin’ my mate’s scent washed over me. Shifting, I dove down, searching for it, but twas weak and quickly dissipated. That night, I searched again and the scent was stronger, but as I followed it, I realized twas at least an hour old. It led to the shoreline, where I shifted and climbed onto the bank, but there was nae a trace…even though I felt its presence.
“Every night, the same thing happened, even though I went into the water at different times…sometimes early, other times later, but twas always the same...except for last night,” Brian said. “After cruising the loch, I waited until the sky turned pink before I shifted and climbed aboard my boat. As I headed below, I felt someone watching me and I sensed my mate was somewhere near the marina’s buildings, but still I could nae see him.” Brian was getting agitated by this time, prompting Kieran to lay a calming hand on him.
After a few moments of silence, the sea serpent continued. “I decided to search the area lookin’ for a clue to help me figure out who he was, but could nae find anything. I know he was close by, because I again could feel his stare and sensed his presence,” Brian said, his frustration now evident. “Please Shaman, I need yer help. I dinna know why my mate is hidin’ from me, but I feel something is amiss and he needs me.”
“Of course, we’ll help you won’t we, macushla?” Kieran asked, glancing at his mate.
“My mate’s right, Brian,” answered Logan. “Our Alpha regards you as a member of the Blackwood Pack so whatever needs to be done, we’ll do.”
After hearing a chorus of ‘absolutelys’ and ‘count-me-ins’, Brian felt his sea serpent relax, confident his mate would soon be found. “Thank ye, thank ye, I canna tell ye how much I appreciate it,” Brian said, with a sigh of relief.
“So,” Logan then proposed, “I think the first thing is to figure out what shifter can swim and breathe underwater while disappearing when he’s on land. Slate, Ian, any ideas?”
“I haven’t ever heard of a shifter doing that,” answered Slate. “I could ask my research team to look into it.”
“Let’s keep that as an option but, right now, until we know what kind of shifter Brian’s mate is, I think we should keep this to ourselves,” Logan said.
“Sorry, Logan,” said Ian, “I’ve studied every shifter alive today and none of them can do both things.”
“Maybe he’s a myth,” Zane offered.
“But he’s real!” exclaimed Dakota.
“Yes, I know, but maybe we can find a myth or legend that describes a shifter who can do what Brian’s mate can,” Zane insisted. “Just like the stories that described someone like David and Daniel.”
“That’s a great idea,” Kieran said, clapping his hands.
“I’ll do a search,” said Zane.
“Do that, bro,” said Logan, “and I’ll talk to Maximus and Mystia to see if they can shed any light on this shifter.”
“Why don’t we help Brian search?” asked David.
“Yeah,” said Slate, “we can spread out on land while you’re in the loch, Brian. Why don’t we stake out the places where we know he’s left the water?”
“Macushla, we can fly over the loch to look for him,” said Kieran.
Logan nodded, then asked Brian, “Do you know if your mate is ever at the surface?”
The sea serpent thought for a moment before answering. “Canna tell. The scent was auld when I found it and parts of the trail had vanished.”
“Okay,” said Logan, “Kieran and I will fly over the loch tonight while the rest of you will be stationed at the previously known exit points. Since we don’t know what we’re dealing with, I’ll have Groose assign a couple of enforcers to each team.”
“Macushla, Brian’s mate is not a threat!” exclaimed Kieran.
“I know that babe, but he may view us as a threat. I want the enforcers along so it gives us time to explain who we are and why we’re there,” answered Logan. “Do you see anything wrong with that, Brian?”
“Naw, I’m fine with it,” Brian said.
The first book I ever wrote was Dire Warning in 2017 and, much to my delight, it became an Amazon Best-Seller. Readers loved it and I was on my way to chronicling the Blackwood Pack, seven brothers who are gay wolf shifters in search of their fated mates—stories about love at first sight with twists and turns, angst and humor, romance and adventure and, of course, happy endings.
As my books began to be translated into other languages, I also became an Amazon International Best-Selling author and then achieved the honor of becoming an Amazon All Star due to their popularity. My tenth book, Darkness Master has just been published and audible versions of the entire series are in progress.
I love the M/M paranormal genre because it gives my imagination a lot of territory in which to roam. My mind can really run wild and come up with some amazing stuff when it doesn’t have to stay inside the box.
My readers tell me they feel like they’re members of the pack as the stories unfold…as if they’re right there in the middle of the action. Others tell me it’s like watching a fast-paced movie. My writing style pulls no punches…readers love it and are always clamoring for the next book.
Stories come to me as if channeled by my characters, all of whom I love (except for a few villains). They are eager to recount their lives, loves and adventures and are not inhibited when it comes to revealing steamy, sexy details.
I currently live in the Northeast and love the beautiful change of seasons, my husband, and our quirky calico cat, though not necessarily in that order. I’m always happy to hear from my readers and can be reached through Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, or my website.
Author Website: https://www.maryrundle.com
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Charley Descoteaux, Elizabeth Noble, Brigham Vaughn, Anne Barwell, V.L. Locey, TL Travis, Avery Cockburn, Garrett Leigh, Kiki Clark, Amarra Skye, A.D. Ellis, Toshi Drake, Liv Rancourt, Susan Scott Shelley, Morgan Brice, Talia Carmichael, Jamie Lynn Miller, Anyta Sunday, Rhys Lawless, K-lee Klein, E.J. Russell, Jodi Payne, Louisa Masters, Con Riley, Annabelle Jacobs, Stella Shaw, Clare London, Emy Calirel, JP Sayle, Sue Brown, Lillian Francis, BA Tortuga, Lisa Henry, Rebecca Cohen, Jay Northcote, Roan Parrish, Leta Blake, RJ Scott, Kasia Bacon, Rye Cox.
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