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Book Title: Christmas Beau Author and Publisher: Amy Aislin Cover Artist: Morningstar Ashley Designs Photography by: Wander Aguiar Release Date: November 29, 2024 Tense/POV: third person/past tense Genres: Contemporary M/M Romance Tropes: Single dad, small town, dog dads, crafty guys, Christmas Heat Rating: 3 flames Length: 50 500 words / 220 pages It is a standalone story and does not end on a cliffhanger. Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited 
Blurb Hank Beaufort's life is a mess. Excerpt Hank joined the back of the line for the pet pics, and because his dogs were well-behaved, they sat when he told them to. The man ahead of him was trying to put a headband of felt reindeer antlers onto his Shetland sheepdog, but the dog kept ducking out of the way. It wasn’t until the man stepped into his dog’s space again and grumbled an annoyed “Fallon, will you just hold still for five seconds?” that Hank realized the man was Scott. Hank’s heart jolted against his ribs. Teddy, who’d been standing in front of Scott and thus hidden from Hank until Scott moved, spotted Hank and waved a mittened hand. “Hi, Hank.” Scott whirled, tangling himself up in his dog’s leash. The dog scrambled out of Scott’s way, but in the process of doing so, somehow managed to bump into Scott’s legs. Scott dropped the reindeer ears. His arms pinwheeled, and his eyes went wide as his body weight went backward. “Whoa!” Leaping forward, Hank grabbed a fistful of his coat and righted him before he could fall into the couple ahead of him. “Such a disaster,” Teddy whispered with no small amount of awe, seemingly to himself. “Are you okay?” Hank asked. “Talk about a comedy of errors,” Scott said with a laugh, stooping to pick up the reindeer ears. “This definitely isn’t how I imagined you getting your hands on me for the first time.” Teddy’s jaw dropped. Hank rolled his lips inward to hide a smile. Scott went as red as the Santa suit the corgi in line ahead of him was wearing. “Wow,” Scott said, passing a hand down his face. “And I thought the dog had no game.” His dog was currently sniffing the butt of Hank’s shy Australian cattle dog. Kinsey looked up at Hank forlornly, his expression a clear why are you letting this happen? “The dog is Prince Charming by comparison,” Teddy said. “Hey. Be nice,” Scott chided gently. “Yuri’s up ahead with his mom. Why don’t you go say hi?” “But I don’t want to miss the next disaster.” Obviously struggling not to laugh, Scott jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Beat it.” “Fine.” Teddy’s sigh was long-suffering, but he picked up the backpack at his feet and went. Hank had wondered about Scott this morning because he hadn’t been at the fair. Instead his quilts had been looked after by a short older lady with white hair cut into a chin-length bob. Hank had noticed Scott greet her warmly yesterday, so Hank could only assume she was his mother. His presence here explained his absence at the fair, and he looked adorably rumpled with his hair curling out the bottom of his ball cap and the laces of one of his boots halfway untied. “Yuri is Teddy’s best friend,” Scott told Hank, even though Hank hadn’t asked. “They’ve been thick as thieves for years.” He shoved the reindeer ears in his pocket. “So? What brings you here?” Amusement tickling the back of his throat, Hank looked down at his dogs. “Pet pics with Santa?” “Right.” Scott’s laugh was self-deprecating. “Obviously. Us too." About the Author Amy’s lived with her head in the clouds since she first picked up a book as a child, and being fluent in two languages means she’s read a lot of books! She first picked up a pen on a rainy day in fourth grade when her class had to stay inside for recess. Tales of treasure hunts with her classmates eventually morphed into love stories between men, and she’s been writing ever since. She writes evenings and weekends—or whenever she isn’t at her full-time day job saving the planet at Canada’s largest environmental non-profit. An unapologetic introvert, Amy reads too much and socializes too little, with no regrets. She loves connecting with readers. Join her Facebook Group to stay up-to-date on upcoming releases and for access to early teasers, find her on Instagram, or sign up for her infrequent newsletter. Social Media Links Blog/Website | Facebook | Instagram Newsletter Sign-up | Facebook Group Giveaway Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win a signed paperback of Christmas Beau 
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Raul gently broke off the connection between Brandon and him, but it didn’t matter how much he struggled to make the transition smoother. Every time Brandon went into the digital world, he sank deeper, faster and with less assistance from Raul. Getting him out from under Raul’s guidance and back to the real world was rougher each time if there wasn’t a physical release. A powerful shudder coursed through Brandon and he sucked in a few quick breaths. Letting go of the computer he moved his hands to the arms of the chair, gripping so hard his knuckles were white. Brandon was tense, his skin was clammy, and his breathing turned shallow. He appeared in shock, though Raul knew he wasn’t, it was simply a reaction to breaking their connection. Some food, water and rest followed by physical release and Brandon would be himself. “He’s done,” Raul announced. “We need more. We’re on the clock here!” Bob snapped then partially shifted and backed his words up with a snarl. Raul ignored him and cupped Brandon’s chin, turning his head so they could make eye contact. “How are you?” It was an unneeded question. Brandon’s eyes wouldn’t stay focused on Raul’s face for more than a second or two before sliding sideways. Each day it took Brandon longer and longer to return to normal. Raul had a few theories about why, but his questions to Brandon had gone unanswered. He was feeling like a pressurized bottle of soda ready to explode. “I said—” Bob made the mistake of grabbing Raul’s arm, trying to turn him away from Brandon. Raul didn’t think, he reacted. Letting go of Brandon, Raul used the momentum from Bob’s grip, spun around and smashed his fist into Bob’s face. Bob staggered back, recovered fast, shifted to werewolf and came at Raul. “Hey!” Bisset barked. He pulled a handgun from under his shoulder and fired into the ceiling then pointed it at Brandon. “The next one goes into his head.” Brandon flinched away and in one fluid movement Raul put himself between him and Bisset. The gun swung in Bob’s direction. Bob stopped but didn’t return to human form. “Stop acting like a pair of rabid dogs. Both of you!” This time Bisset’s voice was low and dangerous. Raul didn’t believe he’d put bullets in all their heads and start over, but he wasn’t going to test that conviction. Raul clenched and unclenched his fists, gulped in air to get control over his anger and stayed rooted to his spot. Bisset didn’t waver. “Even a werewolf won’t survive a headshot.” Bob growled but shifted to complete human form and stayed put.      My snippet this week is from my scifi mm romance, Strays.  In motion, going so fast he was hard for Kyle to keep track of, Daniel covered the last few feet to the person holding a gun on Kyle. Before the agent could react, Daniel had his wrist in a grip Kyle knew from their sparring as an iron-like vise. He twisted with enough force, Kyle heard bone snap. The man screamed when Daniel yanked him closer, flipped him around, and held him against his chest. The gun clattered to the ground, kicked away by Pierre. Daniel used his free hand, reached to the man’s riot visor, and tugged it off his head. “You set them up!” he growled. “Set them up and killed them the same as if you’d pulled the trigger yourself.” There are more snippets in the Rainbow Snippets Facebook group. Strays is available in eBook and through Kobo Plus.
 As he worked he let his mind wander back to the night before. Maybe he could get a look at the list of who’d been invited and figure out a way to contact Neal. Steffie turned the radio on, and Hayden started singing under his breath. “You have a nice voice.” Hayden turned around, horrified. He hadn’t heard the bell over the door jingle. “I…um…th-thank…you.” Neal burst out laughing. He leaned against the closest table and folded his hands in front of him. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I’m sorry.” “N-no, you didn’t—” God, could he simply stop stuttering and maybe make some sense? “You really do have a lovely voice.” Neal paused and tilted his head, giving Hayden another appraising look. Somehow Hayden had the idea Neal approved of what he saw despite the crappy barista outfit. Nodding at Hayden’s polo shirt with the store logo on it, he asked, “Keeping an eye on the business the old-fashioned way? I approve. What do you have that’s good?” Hayden nearly swallowed his tongue. If he opened his mouth too soon, he’d stutter and stammer and nothing he said would make sense. Instead he ran his hands through his hair and pushed his glasses up his nose. For distraction he turned and took a few steps toward the glass case next to the counter. Steffie offered Hayden a silly little smile and went to work cleaning the coffee makers. “Well…um…” Stop with the um. You sound like an idiot! Deep breaths, Hayden reminded himself. This was simply a customer asking for assistance in making a purchase. “I guess it depends on how you feel about stimulating…I mean, caffeine…” “Honestly, I can’t believe my good luck running into you here,” Neal continued. “We really are lucky. I’ll have to give extra thanks to Lakshmi.” “Who?” Hayden had heard the name, but wasn’t sure of its connection to Neal. Neal grinned. “She’s the Hindu goddess of wealth, prosperity, and good fortune.” If he’d noticed Hayden’s panic, he never let on. He glanced around the shop. “These are very nice stores. I love all the merchandise for sale.” Neal meandered to the shelves near the counter. He examined some of the items and picked up a package of coffee beans. As his long fingers grasped the paper bag, he looked sideways right at Hayden. Hayden turned and retreated behind the counter, having to make a conscious effort not to sprint.      At long last Wyatt’s plane landed. Val waited impatiently for Wyatt and couldn’t keep the silly grin off his face when Wyatt finally walked toward Val. Wyatt strode up to Val, took his hand and, holding it low by his hip, pulled Val close. “It’s good to see you,” Val said in a hushed voice. Wyatt urged Val forward and nodded at the exit. “Are you parked there?” “Yeah.” “Hmm, it’s going to be even better to feel you.” Wyatt gave Val’s hand another squeeze, then put his palm flat between Val’s shoulder blades for a few paces as they walked, before letting his hand drop to his side. “Is everything all right?” He asked as they approached Val’s truck. “It is now.” Wyatt chuckled. “I do like to hear that sort of greeting.” He tossed his bag into the bed of the truck and climbed in the passenger door. As he leaned forward to pull his jacket off, his foot shifted far enough that he hit the tire iron. Holding the iron up, Wyatt arched an eyebrow. “Are you sure everything is all right?” Val started the truck and guided it to the highway. Once they were on their way home, he sighed and moved his hands over the steering wheel a few times. “Last night when we were talking, remember my dogs were barking at something?” “Yes.” “Early this morning I went out and looked. The pasture gate was open, and I’m positive I closed it. I always check it before I go to bed. Sig leans against the gate, so I swapped out the latch for one that is more secure. The barn was fine, but the gas was siphoned out of my truck, and someone took the battery out and threw it a few feet away,” Val was careful to keep his voice even. Wyatt leaned back, pulled in a deep breath, and let it out slowly. “So, the gate didn’t blow open in the wind?” “There wasn’t any, but even if there was, it wouldn’t have happened.” “Gas gets stolen all the time, batteries not as commonly, but they do. However, someone wouldn’t just happen upon your truck at your house. So, I’m going to say that was a message. The sort of message I don’t like,” Wyatt said. “Once we’re back and have said hello the right way, there are a few things I want to get done tonight.” Val looked to the side and smiled. “Hello the right way? I think I like the sound of that.” An hour later Val was spread naked on his couch, and Wyatt covered him as they slipped and slid together. Val groaned and hung on tightly, finding comfort in Wyatt’s tenderness and touches. “Saying hello” was an excellent way to forget the message of the night before.    NEW RELEASE 
Book Title: Show No Mercy Author and Publisher: Thom Collins Cover Artist: Kelly A Martin Release Date: November 14, 2024 Tense/POV: Third person/past tense Genres: Contemporary MM Romance, paranormal thriller Tropes: Dark romantic suspense, instant attraction Heat Rating: 4 flames Length: 38 000 words/160 pages It’s a one-off standalone story. No cliffhanger. Buy Link - Available in Kindle Unlimited 
A chance encounter brought them together, but in a world of danger, it might not be for long. Blurb When a blind date ends in disaster, Hector is about to swear off dating for good, until he sees a handsome face across a bar and changes his mind. A drink with a troubled man called Callum leads to something far more meaningful. Hector offers Callum the chance to off load his problems. But when they’re attacked by two men carrying knives, Hector is plunged into a dangerous world of vengeance and retaliation. His decision to stand by Callum puts his life at risk in ways he could never have imagined. Is he prepared to lose everything for a man he barely knows? Excerpt They made it to Hector's apartment without any further incident. He turned on the lights and held the door for Callum before locking it behind him. Callum's hand, where he gripped his injured arm, was red with blood. Hector showed him to the bathroom before going to retrieve his first aid kit. “How does it feel?” he asked, pulling on a pair of rubber gloves. “It's beginning to throb, but I think the worst of the bleeding has stopped.” Hector ran warm water into the sink and poured in two cups of antiseptic liquid. “Take off your T-shirt,” he said, soaking cotton balls in the sink. “I'll give you one of mine, once we clean this up and make sure it's no longer bleeding.” Callum sat on the edge of the bath and removed his T-shirt. He winced and gave a sharp intake of breath. Hector suspected his injury was more painful than he was letting on. He flinched again when Hector applied the soaked cotton balls to his wound. “Sorry,” he said. “I’ll be gentle as I can.” “It's fine,” Callum said. “Just do what you have to.” The cut was about an inch and a half long. “I don't think it's gone deep,” he said. “You've been lucky.” “I'm sure Jon-Boy was aiming for something more severe.” “We have to report this to the police.” Callum shook his head. “That will be a waste of time.” “They'll be searching for you anyway. I'm sure the staff at the bar will have called it in. Especially when Jon-Boy pulled a knife on the premises. There must have been a dozen or more witnesses.” Callum didn't reply, and Hector didn't push it. He would try again in a while. They had a duty to report what had happened. Hector wasn't about to let those thugs get away with what they had done. Once he had cleaned the wound, Hector patted it dry then applied a fresh medical cloth and bandaged it. “I don't think it's deep enough for you to need stitches, but you'll have to keep an eye on it. You might need to visit your doctor.” “You've done a great job. Thank you.” Hector went to his bedroom and rummaged in a drawer. Callum was thicker-built he was, but he found a T-shirt that was too big for him and should fit Callum fine. It was only when he returned to the bathroom that he noticed the rest of Callum’s body. He was incredibly fit with a flat stomach and firm, well developed pecs. His torso was smooth and hairless—he must have shaved it. Hector tried not to stare at his perfect physique as he handed over the T-shirt. “Come through to the kitchen,” he said. “I'll get you some painkillers.” Hector was about to offer him a strong drink, then remembered that would not be a good idea while he had an open wound. The bleeding had stopped but it would not be worth the risk of it restarting. He got two glasses from the cupboard and filled them with water from the filter unit in his refrigerator. When Callum came into the room wearing Hector’s T-shirt, he handed him the glass and a blister pack of Ibuprofen. “Take two. They should help soon enough.” Callum nodded and gave a weak smile as he popped the pills from their packet. The T-shirt fitted him far better than it ever had Hector. The cotton spread tight across his impressive chest and shoulders. The small nubs of his nipples stood erect. Hector was again startled by how beautiful he was and told himself to stop looking. Callum was in trouble, and this was definitely not the time. About the Author Thom Collins is the author of the Jagged Shores series and the Anthem Trilogy as well as numerous standalone novels and novellas. His new series Basic Instincts launches in spring 2025 with the novel Now Comes the Dark. Thom has lived in the North East of England his whole life. He grew up in Northumberland and now lives in County Durham with his husband and two cats. He loves all kinds of genre fiction, especially bonk-busters, thrillers, romance and horror. He is also a cookery book addict with far too many titles cluttering his shelves. When not writing he can be found in the kitchen trying out new recipes. He’s a keen traveler but with a fear of flying that gets worse with age, but in 2013 he realized cruising is the best way to see the world. Check out his website for news updates and a free ebook The Night Social Media Links Facebook | Twitter | Instagram | Newsletter Sign-up 
Giveaway Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win one of five ebooks from the author's backlist. 
My snippet this week is from Endosymbiont, book 3 of The Vampire Guard.  Lucas took Jonas’s face mask from him and looked between Declan and Jonas. “You learned to Tango in South America?” “That’s what you want to know?” Blair sputtered. Looking slightly contrite, Lucas began scraping saliva off the plastic. Some he smeared on glass microscope slides and the rest he put in a small jar. “I’ll need to collect some of the liquid from Sauer’s body too. I don’t suppose you have those equations?” he asked. Jonas glanced at Declan and pulled a face. Declan scratched at the back of his head, saying, “It’s…uh, hanging on our kitchen wall.” He held his hands up a half foot apart. “That little oil painting with the hunting dogs. It was a fake.” There are more snippets in the Rainbow Snippets Facebook group. Endosymbiont is available in eBook and through Kindle Unlimited.
R.L. Merrill has a new MM contemporary rock 'n' roll romance out in the Road to Rocktoberfest series: Feuds and Interludes. From the award-winning author of Hurricane Reese, Summer of Hush, and You Can Do Magic comes a new rock star romance series inspired by legendary rock 'n' roll love affairs. Feuds and Interludes is a rivals-to-lovers, hurt/comfort love story complete with adorable septuagenarian lovebirds and beloved characters from Merrill's previous rock-inspired series. Boone Collins and Shane Butler are two of rock music’s brightest stars today. Their grandfathers founded a powerhouse rock supergroup that ruled the airwaves in the late 1970s, and the grandsons grew up in their shadows to become frontmen of their own successful bands. The epic rivalry between Boone and Shane is notorious, and it’s about to blow up. When Shane’s grandfather Bruce inducts his deceased bandmate into the Rock Music Hall of Fame, he admits to the world that he wrote the band’s biggest hit about his best friend’s widow—Boone’s grandmother Vera Jean. The two want to rekindle their relationship, and their grandsons are determined to keep them apart. Only, working together for a common goal reveals surprising similarities between the rock stars as well as a chemistry they cannot ignore. Shane sees behind Boone’s glittery facade to the secrets he hides from his bandmates, and Boone is there to pick up the pieces when Shane’s professional world implodes. Together, they plot a musical collaboration to celebrate their grandfathers’ accomplishments instead of fighting—a star-studded tribute at the storied Rocktoberfest event in the Nevada desert—but will being in the spotlight prove to be too much for their fledgling romance to handle? About the Series: Feuds and Interludes is part of the multi-author Road to Rocktoberfest 2024 series. Each book can be read as a standalone, but why not read them all and see what antics our bands get into next? Hot rockstars and the men who love them, what more could you ask for. Kick back, load up your kindle, and enjoy the men of Rocktoberfest! Universal Buy LinkGiveaway R.L. is giving away $25 Amazon gift card with this tour: Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47319/ Excerpt “Boone, honey, will you zip me up?” Vera Jean Collins had the kind of beauty that turned heads, the grace of a royal, and the unshakeable poise to shrug off even the most rabid paparazzi. And tonight, all those characteristics would be put to the test. I’d never get over how beautiful my grandmother was. The only constant in my life, she was my home, my role model, and my best friend. Wearing a form-fitting, sleeveless black dress adorned with iridescent rainbow sparkles, she had a youthful glow about her at sixty-eight years old and still commanded attention. A statuesque former actress, beleaguered rockstar wife, and now passionate philanthropist, Vera Jean Collins carried herself with an elegance that belied her years spent married to my lovable scoundrel of a grandfather. “That tuxedo is very flattering,” she said as I stepped behind her and carefully zipped her dress to the nape of her neck. She’d pulled her long silver hair into a twist that looked professionally done, and with her heels on, she stood nearly eye-to-eye with my five-eleven frame. “I love the vest, too.” I looked down at the navy velvet suit and gold brocade vest and smiled. “The tailor did a nice job taking it in. I think Papa would get a kick out of me wearing this. He loved this one.” I held up the matching tie and she took it from me, gesturing for me to let her tie it. She looped it over my head and went to work, a wistful smile on her face. “He certainly did. He bought it to irritate me, and then was frustrated when I told him that I loved how it brought out the blue in his eyes. He was always trying to pull a fast one on me.” “And you’d always call his bluff.” She handed me her diamond choker to fasten, and I winced when I noticed her hands were shaking. She was so brave, no matter the challenge before her, but I’d learned to notice the subtle traces of her struggles. Tonight her task would be smiling and waving at her deceased husband’s adoring fans and colleagues as he was posthumously inducted into the Rock Hall. I knew she missed him terribly. We both did. “Kept things fun,” she said with a little shrug. She ran her fingers over her choker and relaxed her shoulders. “Always kept him guessing.” I had my own reason for being nervous. My band, Stellar, was chosen to lead the tribute performance. In a few hours, I would be performing for an arena full of my musical heroes. With Bruce Duncan. I usually did my best when under pressure, but this was ridiculous. “It was weird seeing Bruce at rehearsal.” I’d grown up hearing the stories of when he and my grandfather ruled the world, but I hadn’t seen him in years and had no idea what to make of him as a person. “Oh? How so?” Gran stopped what she was doing and turned to face me. “He talked to everyone else in the room but me. Well, he scolded me about the timing on one of the songs.” “Relax, darling,” she said as she fastened her bracelet. “He’s probably just as nervous as you.” “I’m not nervous. I know these songs like the back of my hand.” “Right,” she said as she looked me up and down. “And that’s why your shirt is misbuttoned.” I ran my hand down my shirt, and sure enough, I’d missed a button and the thing had a big bump in the middle sticking out from my vest. I went about undoing and redoing my shirt and vest. You’d think by the age of thirty, I’d be able to dress myself. You’d be wrong, apparently. “Yeah, well, his infuriating grandson has probably told him terrible things about me.” “Oh, nonsense. Shane is a good boy.” “Boy? He’s two years older than me.” “You two have more in common than you’d think.” “He’s determined to be rude to me, so I guess I’ll never know.” She was right in the sense that we came from similar backgrounds, but that’s where the similarities ended. I put together a band of unique artists interested in playing smart rock music with a point and a backbone. Shane was a hotheaded, brilliant musician who, instead of following in his grandfather’s virtuoso footsteps, had chosen to while away his time in a mediocre albeit popular metal band, making record after record of predictable drivel. He could do so much better. “Maybe if you two walked a mile in each other’s shoes, you’d get along better. Speaking of which, do you have to wear those shoes?” I looked at my feet and back at her. “My Chucks? Of course, I’m wearing my Chucks. They’re custom-made. Most comfortable shoes I own.” I’d chosen my gold sparkly ones tonight to match the tuxedo, so they really stood out. She exhaled through her nose and raised an eyebrow at me. “You’re lucky you’re so handsome,” she said as she fastened her dangly diamond earrings. “You get away with a lot more that way.” “And you wouldn’t let just anyone escort you tonight. Right. You said that already.” She could tease me all she wanted. I knew how much she loved me. “Are you almost ready? Or do you have more metal to put in your head?” She smiled sweetly at me and I rolled my eyes. I adjusted my septum piercing and ran my fingers over the thick silver rings in both ears. I had a stud through my tongue as well. “I think I’m good.” I crossed my eyes at her and she wrinkled her nose. Then her smile morphed into that grandmotherly look I recognized. “How about you, Boone? How are you feeling?” “I’m okay. All good.” I’m not changing the shoes, though. I mentally stuck my tongue out at her. Gran slipped her hand through my offered arm and I leaned over to kiss her on the cheek. “Chin up, tits out,” she muttered. “I’ll try to remember that.” She subtly hip-bumped me and put on her most dazzling smile, no doubt practicing for the evening ahead. I loved this woman, owed her my life, and I would stand by her side no matter what. I wanted her to be happy. She deserved happy. As for me? I just needed to survive without making a fool of myself. I knew I was good enough to keep up with the likes of Bruce Duncan, but he’d rattled me more than I let on at that rehearsal. The idea that I wouldn’t do my grandfather’s music justice terrified me. Papa taught me everything I needed to know to launch my career. I would do him proud tonight. And if that meant dealing with the likes of Bruce Duncan or his aggravating grandson, Shane Butler, so be it. Author Bio
Whether she’s writing contemporary romance featuring quirky and relatable characters or diving deep into the paranormal and supernatural to give readers a shiver, R.L. Merrill loves creating compelling, diverse, and inclusive stories that will stay with readers long after. Winner of the Kathryn Hayes “When Sparks Fly” Best Contemporary award for Hurricane Reese, Paranormal Romance Guild’s Best Rockstar Romance for You Can Do Magic, and Daphne DuMaurier finalist for Connection, Ro spends every spare moment improving her writing craft and striving to find that perfect balance between real-life and happily ever after. You can find her connecting with readers on social media, advocating for America’s youth, cruising around town with Great Dane Velma, cuddling with twin black cat familiars Frankenstein and Dracula, or headbanging at a rock show near her home in the San Francisco Bay Area! Stay Tuned for more… Author Website: https://www.rlmerrillauthor.com Author Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/rochellerlmerrill/ Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/rlmerrillauthor Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/rlmerrillauthor Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/9828914.R_L_Merrill Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/stores/R.L.-Merrill/author/B00PI6Q1LI 
They gathered together their things, had the horses packed, and were on the road in less than half an hour. “There is a large train depot south. I’m betting they were heading in that direction. There really isn’t anywhere but there for them to go. The train goes to and from Fulton. There won’t be a train until later in the day tomorrow. If we travel tonight, I’m hoping we can catch them there or pick up their trail along the way if they’re going somewhere else,” Todd said. Storm clouds were gathering and Todd hoped it would blow over. The fact Nick didn’t function well in large storms aside, rain would obliterate any trail left if the people had in fact diverged from the main road. As more clouds moved in and covered the moon, the road became darker, making it more difficult to see any trail that might have deviated from the main road. There were a few smaller roads that looked more like they belonged to private farms. The road they traveled was the only main one until the train depot, where several roads from different directions met. They’d simply have to take the chance that the people they were pursuing hadn’t turned off to one of the smaller side roads. They pressed on at a steady clip. When something lit the horizon, Nick pulled Obi to a halt and looked at his watch. “What the hell? We’ve got a few hours until dawn.” “Lightning?” Todd pulled up, went back to his mate and answered his own question. “It doesn’t look like it.” “How far is the depot, do you know?” “Twenty minutes, give or take.” Todd twisted around and looked back the way they’d come. “Do you smell that?” More light erupted in the sky. The air had a tang like gunpowder to it. Nick nodded. “I don’t hear…” Todd wheeled Arenite around, reached out and grabbed Nick’s arm, and tugged on his sleeve. “I’ve got a bad feeling. Let’s get to the depot.” Biting his lip, Nick nodded and urged Obi to a gallop, keeping pace with Todd. It was risky riding so fast at night, and it was getting darker. The hair at the back of Todd’s neck was standing on end, and he had that get-the-hell-out feeling in the pit of his stomach. He decided the best thing to do was not question it.      |
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