Friday, November 29, 2019

Review: Give up the Ghost by Debbie Cassidy (@amoscassidy)

Give up the Ghost
Release Date: November 19, 2019
Publisher: Self-Published
ASIN:  B07YCCBXHZ
Genre: Urban Fantasy
Review Copy Source: Author

They say not to judge a book by its cover. It's what's on the inside that counts. But what if what's on the inside could get you killed?

The secret is out. Welcome to the spot between a rock and a hard place.
A kick ass Urban Fantasy Adventure filled with fey, demons, vampires, gargoyles and golems.

The characters continue to make this series a hit. Each one brings something a little different to the story.

This is an urban fantasy, but there is some romance brewing. I was a little shocked with how things evolved between Kat and Henri, but I can't reveal more then that. I want to learn more about the formarian in the basement.

The world building is strong. The Nightwatch world is shared with The Nightwatch Academy series so there is crossover and knowing both stories is definitely a plus.

Get ready for a cliffhanger, but lucky for you, knowing Debbie Cassidy, you won't have to wait too long to find out what will happen next.

I gave it 4/5 stars

* This book was provided free of charge from the publisher in exchange for an honest review.

Thursday, November 28, 2019

Happy Thanksgiving....


Gobble Gobble US Readers!!

Tell me.... 

What book have you been thankful to read in 2019?

Wednesday, November 27, 2019

Promo + Giveaway: Rest in Pieces by Lucinda Dark (@Lucy_Smoke, @XpressoTours)


Rest in Pieces
Barbie: The Vampire Hunter #1
Ashes to Ashes. Dust to Dust. If vampires kill your entire family, vengeance is a must.
I can’t say my parents never warned me about vampires. I just never believed them. Not—that is—until six months ago when vampires broke into my home and killed my family. Thanks to all the skills my parents taught me, I managed to escape but I couldn’t save them.
Two vampires down and the rest of the world to go.
My bid for revenge is going to have to wait, though, because until I turn 18, I’m being placed in the loving care of Elizabeth and Jonathan McKnight—godparents I didn’t even know existed. The clock is ticking until I can get back to my goal of eradicating the vampire race. But something is amiss at my new high school. According to my parents, vampires can’t walk in daylight. So, why then, does Torin Priest? If he’s not a vampire, then what is he? Because unlike the obnoxious asshole, Maverick McKnight, who sees me as some sort of bloodsucking leech on his wealthy family, Torin Priest is most certainly not human.
To stake or not to stake, that is the question.
 Excerpt:

Maverick pointed his finger right in my face. “I’m watching you, Barbie,” he spat my name like a curse. “If you try to steal from them, you’ll be out the door so goddamn fast, you’ll have burns on your ass from being kicked to the curb.”
“For your information, Maverick,” I said, using the same tone he’d used with my name, “I’m not here to find a new fucking family. I’m here because the government put me here. Comprende, dumbass? As a minor, I don’t have much of a fucking choice.”
“Choice or not.” He shook his head and fixed me with an outright glare. “You will not fuck with me. You will not fuck with my parents. You will stay the hell out of my way and out of my fucking business. Do you comprende?”
“Duly noted,” I replied dryly. “And since we’re on the topic of discussion, let’s make a deal—you and I.” Before he could agree or not on any sort of deal, I continued. “You stay out of my fucking way and I won’t kick your ass. And trust me, pretty boy, I may look smaller than you, but I would have you begging in a matter of seconds. If you don’t like me now, wait until I unleash my inner bitch. Therefore, if you wish to remain breathing, I suggest you back off,” I growled. “And in case you can’t understand that, understand this”—I stopped and leaned forward, moving into his space until I could smell a hint of his spicy cologne—“thou shalt not try me. Do so at your own peril.” He eyed me with no small amount of cold-blooded hatred. I didn’t give much of a shit. I moved back once more and jerked the door handle. “Now unlock the fucking door, Deputy Maverick, or you’ll see just what my inner bitch can do.”


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Lucinda Dark is the Fantasy based pen name for USA Today Bestselling Author, Lucy Smoke.

A writer of various genres, Lucy is a young adventurer with a lust for good characterization and unique protagonists.

You can contact her or view her catalog via her website at www.Lucysmoke.com or join her newsletter to keep up to date on all the latest releases!

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Monday, November 25, 2019

Review: Nevermore by J.C. McKenzie (@JC_McKenzie)

Nevermore
Release Date: November 25, 2019
Publisher: Self-Published
ASIN:  B07ZDGY88J
Genre: Urban Fantasy
Review Copy Source: Author

Rundown waitress, part-time private investigator, and half-fae shifter, Raven Crawford, always gets the opposite of what she wants most. She works two jobs but can’t pay the bills. Her confrontation with Queen Lloth has unexpected and unfortunate consequences, and her love life is a hot mess.

With failure and disappointment honed to painful perfection, Raven’s life is riddled with complications, including her troublesome attraction to the lethal Lord of Shadows. When her latest case leads to a group hell-bent on destruction, she must decide who to trust. Will she choose wisely, or will she fail once again and become the next casualty in a war between the Mortal Realm and the Underworld?
Raven's snarky dialog and couldn't care less attitude continue to shine in book two of the Raven Crawford series.

One of my favorite things about this series has been the characters. Not only do I enjoy Raven and Cole, but her family shines through the pages too. I enjoy the relationship they share and the way they interact.


The relationship between Raven and Cole continues to grow in NEVERMORE. There is still a lot of back and forth between the two, but when they finally get on the same page great things happen. I also enjoyed seeing Raven's brother with Cole's sister. It kinda cracks me up, but they seem to work well together.

I didn't feel like NEVERMORE had as much going for it as book one. There was more storyline about everyday things than there was kicking butt.  Of course, when it was time to kick butt, Raven didn't disappoint. I especially enjoyed seeing her ex get what he deserved.

Although I thought Raven was more hot-mess, than bad-ass in NEVERMORE, I still enjoyed it and look forward to reading more.

I gave it 3.5/5 stars

* This book was provided free of charge from the publisher in exchange for an honest review.

Sunday, November 24, 2019

Week in Review: 11/17-11/23




Books I've Read

Nameless Queen by Rebecca McLaughlin
Crush the Kings by Jennifer Estep
The Queen of Nothing by Holly Black
Magic Bites by Ilona Andrews (Re-Read)


Reviews Posted

None this week!

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* New Releases for the week. Was there anything you were looking forward to reading?

* Monday- Promo + Giveaway: Wolf Rebel by Paige Tyler (@PaigeTyler, @SourcebooksCasa)

* Wednesday- Promo + Giveaway: The Abyss Trilogy by A.C. Ward (@XpressoTours)

* Thursday- Trailer Reveal: Bursts of Fire by Susan Forest (@susanjforest, @laksamedia, @XpressoTours)

* Friday- Promo + Giveaway: Blood Rose by Rachael Vaughn (@XpressoTours)

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* Did you know you can follow UFI on these other sites?


You can also add me (as in Stacy) to your friends on these sites if you're on them.
 

 * I love comments so if you see something you like (or not) please comment away and let me know.

Friday, November 22, 2019

Promo + Giveaway: Blood Rose by Rachael Vaughn (@XpressoTours)


Blood Rose
Fleeing her past and a dark tragedy that haunts her every waking moment, Rose settles for a crummy retail job in a crummy town in the middle of Indiana. Her one solace - the sprawling forest behind her apartment complex - leads her down a dizzying path into a topsy-turvy world where Rose escapes her painful memories…but finds herself at the center of a dangerous plot.
A mysterious (and frequently unconscious) stranger, a technicolor landscape, and a sinister but charismatic leader pull Rose deeper into an unexpected adventure…where nothing is as it seems.
Follow Rose on her journey through this perilous but beautiful land, as she wonders if she can save it…or herself. 
Excerpt:

The stranger was back before long, and Rose didn’t miss the flash of relief on his face when he saw her standing where he had left her. He carried with him a bowl of water, steam rising in tendrils from the surface, and an assortment of other supplies. When he reached her he continued on past, beckoning her to follow, and Rose turned to see him heading toward a small seating area near the door. A low, backless sofa ran along the wall, each end lifting to curl in a tight spiral. An equally low table stood in front of the sofa, and two matching chairs framed either side.
After a moment of hesitation, Rose took a seat on the sofa, and the stranger placed the bowl and supplies on the table before lowering himself hesitantly to sit beside her. He gave her a questioning glance as if asking for permission, and Rose offered her wounded palm. She kept quiet, not wanting her barrage of questions to break the trance she felt from his calming influence. The man chose a soft cloth from the pile on the table, dipped it in the warm water and began to gently wash the blood from her hand. She winced when the water stung the cut, and the man grimaced in apology.
As he worked, the lace cuff fell back from his left hand and the sleeve of his jacket rode up slightly. Rose caught a glimpse of something thick and dark winding around his arm. It appeared to have the texture of an old scar, thick and ridged, but jet black and stark against his pale blue skin. It grew thinner the further down it reached, tapering out into thin tendrils at his wrist, leaving the skin of his hand smooth and untainted. Rose felt his hands falter in their movements against hers, and she looked up to see him following her gaze to his wrist. He self-consciously pulled the cuff back down into place, covering the black lines, and Rose hastily looked away.
“Sorry,” she mumbled. He didn’t respond, only retrieved the cloth and began wiping blood from her other hand. Once both were clean, he let the cloth fall into the now pink-tinged water, and took a bandage from the table. He paused for a moment, before setting the bandage back down unopened.
“You must have a lot of questions,” he said softly, not quite meeting her eyes.
A startled laugh escaped Rose’s throat. That was the understatement of the century. He gave a soft chuckle and she realized she had voiced the thought aloud.
“Yes, I imagine that must be true.” He turned to face her directly, and his eyes met hers. She was alarmed at the intensity in their purple depths, and his voice was urgent when he spoke again, the words coming fast.
“Listen, I’ll explain everything, I promise. But you’re not safe here, and I need you to trust me.”
Rose opened her mouth, but he continued before she could respond.
“I know we’ve only just met, but I promise I won’t let any harm come to you. There’s so much you need to know, and so little time, and I—” he paused, seeming to exert quite a bit of effort to gather himself. He took a deep breath and lifted his eyes to hers. “Will you trust me?”
His gaze bored into her, and without the slightest idea why, Rose found herself nodding. Anything to get that look of desperation off his face.
He seemed to wilt, relief coloring his features, and he held out his hand for hers again. She placed her wounded hand in his, and he flipped it over, palm up. Lifting his other hand, he gently placed his index finger against the gash in her palm, and without warning, a burst of light emanated out of his fingertip where it met her skin.
Rose felt strangely detached, as if she were watching this happen instead of actually experiencing it. She felt no pain, only a bright, comforting warmth that grew to encompass her whole hand. He traced his finger slowly down the length of the wound, the bright light following the path of his finger, and Rose watched in surprise as the line of her blood began to glow bright, the same iridescent glimmer she had noticed when she’d touched the handle of the door what seemed like ages ago.
Rose watched in wonder as the stranger lifted his hand, the light fading. The shimmer faded from her palm as well, the wound sealing in its wake.
“There,” he said, releasing her hand. His voice sounded faint, its resonance muted. Rose looked up, sensing something was off, and found his face pale, nearly white, the silver lines practically nonexistent.
“Are you okay?” she asked, suddenly worried for this man—creature—she didn’t know, but he simply nodded and waved off her concern. She looked down at her palm again in amazement, a thin faded line all that remained of the red gash.
“What was that?” she asked, “How did you—” But her attention was caught quite suddenly by his hands, which were clutched tightly in his lap. He held his right hand wrapped protectively around the left, but past his grip Rose could see the black lines moving on his skin, creeping slowly beyond the edge of his cuff and onto the back of his hand, tendrils snaking across the pale flesh there.

__________________________________

Rachael Vaughn is the creative brainchild of husband-and-wife writing duo, Laura Rachael Black and Trenton Vaughn Hockersmith.

Laura is the wordsmith of the pair, and a bona fide dabbler. With interests in everything from mosaics to wood carving and playing the hammered dulcimer, there isn't much that doesn't appeal to her insatiable need to create. When she isn't writing, Laura stays busy as the co-owner of Firefly Tattoo--one of Indianapolis's premier tattoo studios--where she is also a full-time artist. You can check out her professional tattoo gallery at https://www.fireflytattoo.com/f88479627.

Trent acts as the bookends of the writing process. He serves as the team's world-builder and plot developer on the front end, and acts as an editor and proofreader (plus the ultimate voice of reason) on the backside. His educational background in English and psychology help him craft vibrant worldscapes and compelling, authentic characters. When not mired in the trenches of world-building, Trent enjoys reading, playing video games, and practicing jiu-jitsu and tai-chi.

The team shares more than a pen name. Their home outside Indianapolis is also inhabited by their daughter, Seva, and Helena, the world's fluffiest cat.

Find Rachael and her books
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Thursday, November 21, 2019

Trailer Reveal: Bursts of Fire by Susan Forest (@susanjforest, @laksamedia, @XpressoTours)


Bursts of Fire
Addicted to Heaven #1

Publishers Lunch Buzz Books 2019 selection. Recommended by Publishers Weekly, Booklist (American Library Association), and Library Journal.
Bursts of Fire begins an epic political fantasy of revenge, addictions, and redemption for three magiel sisters in an empire where magic has become suspect and where love and loyalty—for one’s lover, one’s family, one’s country—are tested. If Heaven desires the very earth be burned, what place can those below hope for, when the flames come for them?
The Falkyn sisters bear a burden and a legacy. Their mother, the imperial magiel of the kingdom of Orumon, protects her people from the horrors of the afterlife by calling upon the Gods with a precious Prayer Stone. But war among the kingdoms has brought fire and destruction to their sheltered world. When a mad king’s desire to destroy the Prayer Stones shatters their family, the three girls are scattered to the wilderness, relying on their wits and powers they don’t yet master.
Assassin. Battle tactician. Magic wielder. Driven by different ambitions, Meg, Janat, and Rennika are destined to become all these and more. To reclaim their birth right, they must overcome doubtful loyalties within a rising rebellion; more, they must challenge a dogma-driven chancellor’s influence on the prince raised to inherit his father’s war: a prince struggling to unravel the mystery of his brother’s addiction to Heaven.
To Survive. To Fight. To Restore Balance.

BOOK TRAILER:

__________________________________

Susan Forest grew up in a family of mountaineers and skiers, and she loves adventure. She also loves the big ideas found in SF/F, and finds fast-paced adventure stories a great place to explore how individuals grapple with complex moral decisions. Susan is also an award-winning fiction editor, has published over 25 short stories, and has appeared at many international writing conventions. She loves travel and has been known to dictate novels from the back of her husband's motorcycle. Follow Susan at http://addictedtoheaven.com/ and http://speculative-fiction.ca/

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__________________________________

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Wednesday, November 20, 2019

Promo + Giveaway: The Abyss Trilogy by A.C. Ward (@XpressoTours)


Avoiding the Abyss
 The Abyss Trilogy #1
Aubrey has always been told she isn’t special.
If only that had remained true.

Aubrey grew up as part of the rebel movement, protected but lonely. All she wants is her mother’s love, but without an ability she’s worthless in her mother’s eyes.

When she’s captured by the government, Aubrey sees an opportunity to prove her worth. Instead, she realizes that her mother has been withholding many truths. Aubrey experiences an acceptance outside of the rebels that her heart has yearned for, and a discovery. She has an immunity that has never been seen before.

But Aubrey isn’t immune, she’s absorbing powers as the key to the Abyss—a portal into the demon realm. Her mother finally sees purpose in her daughter and hopes to use it for her cause. Aubrey isn’t as certain. If she doesn’t gain control of her ability, she’ll open the gateway to hell and destroy everyone she’s come to care about. Including herself.

The first installment in the Abyss trilogy, a coming of age YA dystopian fantasy. Perfect for fans of dystopian worlds, apocalyptic prophesies, and demon lore.

Download now to find out if Aubrey will succeed in Avoiding the Abyss.
The Complete Trilogy:

Excerpt:

It wasn’t the first time her mother had punched her in the face, and Aubrey doubted it would be the last. The most frustrating part was that she saw the punch coming. Not because it was slow—her mother, the paragon of the rebels, didn’t do slow—but because it was her typical move. Aubrey had fallen for the same thing in prior training sessions. She had learned tactics to avoid it, blocking the punch or turning to the side or even ducking, but indecision led to her freezing up.
Her mother’s controlled swing hit Aubrey in the jaw. She tasted blood. Trying her best to ignore it, Aubrey kept her feet moving, managing to pull back in time to evade the second swing. She had never been able to keep up with her mother but wanted to put up a good enough fight to avoid being a complete disappointment. Again.
Sparring matches were one of the few times Aubrey interacted with her mother. It had become a form of communication between them. The way her mother’s green eyes hardened to stone, the deep crease that formed between her brows, the firming of her lips as they turned down in displeasure, Aubrey could read them all. Her mother treated only her that way. A ball of tension twisted in her stomach, the pain of it worse than a connected blow could ever be.
Aubrey swung out at her mother, the punch a surprise even to herself, and sloppy. Her mother caught it in her own fist, the crease between her brows deepening. She used Aubrey’s own momentum against her, pulling her into the next blow. Aubrey tried in vain to turn it into a glancing blow, but the force of the impact snapped her head back. Dots danced in front of her eyes as Aubrey fell. Her mother released her grip to let her.
There were ways to fall to keep in the fight. Aubrey tried to get her body to do it, to roll back to her feet, but she flopped onto the rock ground instead with a sickening thud. She blinked, and the dots whirled, creating arcs of white light. Her mother stepped forward into the glow, pressing her advantage, and behind her an image formed.
Aubrey blinked but the figure remained. It was a man, and it was not. The scowl on his face was even fiercer than her mother’s. When he crossed his arms, Aubrey thought she saw three pairs of limbs folding over his bare ridged chest. He towered above her mother at an impossible height.
Aubrey lost her breath even before her mother’s kick connected with her side. What little air was left whooshed out of her lungs and she squeezed her eyes shut, giving in to the pain. The next kick popped them open wide again. Behind her mother, the figure was gone, burst like the figment of imagination he must have been.
The third kick had her body screaming in protest. Aubrey tried to roll away, to not just sit there and be beaten. Her mother was intent on her prey. The next blow to Aubrey’s side drained the last of her resistance. She curled in on herself, covered her head as best she could, and waited for the punishment to be over.
“Myra,” a voice interjected, warm and unhurried like the man it had come from.
Aubrey’s arms tightened even further around herself, wondering just how much of her shame he had witnessed.
Her mother paused, looking back over her shoulder to where he stood.
“They are asking for you, mi alma,” Tony said, the smile on his face one he reserved for Aubrey’s mother.
Myra frowned at him, her typical response to the pet name. “I’ve told you not to call me that.” She turned back to her daughter, her stance rigid. “Not good enough.”
Aubrey let the words pierce her, forcing her grip on herself to loosen. “I know.”
“You’re already at a disadvantage with no powers. You should be putting every effort into becoming useful in the one area where you have any chance.” Her mother stepped back and picked up a towel to wipe her face, though it wasn’t needed. Myra hadn’t even broken a sweat.
Aubrey’s own sweat ran in rivulets through her short-cropped hair. She used her trembling arms to push herself to a sitting position.
Myra tossed the towel, streaked with red dirt, into her lap. “This performance was even worse than last time.”
Aubrey tensed as her mother stepped toward her, half expecting another kick.
Myra crouched, forcing her daughter to meet her sharp eyes. “You’re becoming even more of a waste of time. If it gets any worse, we’ll end these sessions.” She stood again, turning her back on Aubrey.
Tony moved to the side of the entrance as she passed through, staring after her silently. When she was out of sight, he let out a heavy sigh and glanced at Aubrey where she was still frozen in place. “Happy fifteenth birthday, nena,” he said. Then he left to chase after her mother.
Aubrey stared at the rocky ground beneath her. Her hands curled into fists, the urge to hit something coming too late. She slammed them down hard enough to raise the dirt in plumes of red dust.

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Amanda Ward is a little worried that her internet search history is on some sort of watch list. For Death Daydreams, she researched serial killers, hidden rooms, death, suicide, and third-story falls. Her next work in process is only making it worse.

Amanda lives with her husband, daughter, and various pets - dog, cat, gecko, fish, and tarantula. When she's not writing she's watching Netflix or rereading her favorite manga. She'd love to hear from her fans. You can contact her at wardabooks@gmail.com.

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Monday, November 18, 2019

Promo + Giveaway: Wolf Rebel by Paige Tyler (@PaigeTyler, @SourcebooksCasa)



Wolf Rebel
SWAT: Special Wolf Alpha Team #10
Amazon  BN  Apple  Kobo  IndieBound  BAM  Walmart
She let him get away
SWAT werewolf Rachel Bennett is hounded by nightmares after a vicious attack left her with PTSD. Not knowing who or what she can trust anymore, she's relieved to be assigned to a high-profile protective detail. Diving into work might be the distraction she needs, until she notices the mysterious hunk who seems to follow her wherever she goes—and recognizes him.
Now he needs her help...
After he's badly injured, former Navy SEAL Knox Lawson seeks out Rachel when he realizes he's turning into a werewolf. He'd once been part of the group hunting her kind, but he knew he had to quit when he found Rachel in his crosshairs. Now he desperately needs her help.
Rachel isn't sure she trusts Knox, but having him around keeps the nightmares—and the monster creating them—away. Knox might not know much about being a werewolf, but there's no doubt he'll do everything in his power to win her trust and keep her safe. 
SWAT Series:
Hungry Like the Wolf (Book 1)
Wolf Trouble (Book 2)
In the Company of Wolves (Book 3)
To Love a Wolf (Book 4)
Wolf Unleashed (Book 5)
Wolf Hunt (Book 6)
Wolf Hunger (Book 7)
Wolf Rising (Book 8)
Wolf Instinct (Book 9)
Wolf Rebel (Book 10)

Praise for Paige Tyler:
“Paige Tyler’s SWAT series hits all the right marks, blending steamy paranormal fantasy with modern day realism.”—LARISSA IONE, New York Times bestselling author
“This fast-paced procedural brims with heat and action.”—Publishers Weekly for Wolf Rising
“If you love hunks in uniform, a spitfire heroine, drama, danger, intrigue, and some really steamy moments then get your hands on Wolf Rising.”—Fresh Fiction 
“Action-packed, sizzling fun for fans of paranormal romantic suspense.”—Booklist for In the Company of Wolves
Excerpt:

She leaned against the balcony railing to do a little stargazing from the second-floor deck when two scents that were becoming overwhelmingly familiar hit her. It was the same combination of scents she’d picked up this morning at the compound.
But this time it wasn’t some slight trace carried on the breeze. Instead, it was thick and heavy, like whoever the scents belonged to had been standing on the balcony mere seconds ago. It struck her then that this was the first time she’d attributed the smell to a person. Before now, she hadn’t been quite sure.
Hand tightening on her mug, she swept the street below her apartment with her gaze, taking in every car parked on the curb and row of buildings on the other side of the street, following the smell with her nose. It was strongest in that direction and she inhaled deeply. The scents were richer and fuller than she’d sensed before. And they definitely belonged to a man. Of that she was sure. The scents possessed a subtle hint of something so tantalizing that Rachel found her eyes going slightly unfocused as she fixated on it. She’d never smelled anything so…perfect.
Suddenly, she caught sight of movement across the street, buried in the shadows of the alley that ran alongside the organic food store. She turned all her attention in that direction, her eyes shifting so she could see better. That’s when she saw a man’s silhouette in the darkness.
As if sensing her gaze on him, the man retreated farther into the alley, and while she couldn’t see him, she could tell he was still there somewhere.
Setting her cup on the small table in between the two chairs, Rachel gripped the balcony railing and vaulted over it to the ground below. Her bare feet hit the sidewalk hard, but she ignored the discomfort and took off running across the street, chasing after the shadow.
The rocks and stray pieces of glass in the alley dug into her feet, but she refused to let that slow her as she ran as hard as she could. For a werewolf like her, that was pretty damn fast. But the man ahead of her was fast, too—too fast to be a normal human.
Crap, she was chasing another werewolf. She almost stumbled to a halt at the realization, shocked she hadn’t recognized the unique scent until now. How was it possible she hadn’t known it for what it was? Maybe because it had changed since she’d first smelled it all those weeks ago. The werewolf part of the scent seemed new.
Growling, she picked up speed, her body partially shifting as she ran faster, refusing to let the man ahead of her get away. It took a while to corner him, but when her prey turned down a dead-end alley, she knew she had him.
He didn’t stop running until he reached the brick wall at the end of the alley. Then he stood there and stared at it as if trying to figure out how to go through it. Dark-haired, he was tall with broad shoulders and sleek muscles filling out the T-shirt he wore. He looked left and right, breathing hard as he searched for an escape route.
“You’re not getting out of this alley,” Rachel told him, not even trying to disguise the anger in her voice. This guy had been stalking her for weeks. He was lucky she didn’t rip him to shreds first and ask questions later. “Not until you tell me who the hell you are and what you want with me.”
Squaring his shoulders as if resigned to his fate, he slowly turned to face her. His hair was short on the sides and longer on the top, and his face carried a few days’ worth of scruff that emphasized his square jaw, making him look dangerous and even more attractive than he probably had a right to. His eyes were a deep, rich chocolate brown, piercing but somehow soft at the same time.
She was well on her way to getting lost in those eyes when she suddenly realized she recognized him. He was the hunter she’d let get away. A hunter who was a werewolf.
***
Excerpted from Wolf Rebel by Paige Tyler. © 2019 by Paige Tyler. Used with permission of the publisher, Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc. All rights reserved.


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aige Tyler is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of action-packed romantic suspense, romantic thrillers, and paranormal romance. Paige writes books about hunky alpha males and the kick-butt heroines they fall in love with. She lives with her very own military hero (a.k.a. her husband) and their adorable dog on the beautiful Florida coast. Visit www.paigetylertheauthor.com.

Find Paige and her books
__________________________________
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Sunday, November 17, 2019

Week in Review: 11/10-11/16



Books Received for Review

Nothing this week!!

Books I've Read

Dallas by Rachelle Mills
Clayton by Rachelle Mills
Cassius by Rachelle Mills
Give up the Ghost by Debbie Cassidy
Shadow Warrior by Debbie Cassidy
Boundary Hunted by Melissa F. Olsen

Reviews Posted

Serpent & Dove by Shelby Mahurin (@shelbymahurin, @harperteen)

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* New Releases for the week. Was there anything you were looking forward to reading?

* Monday- We Honor and Salute You!

* Wednesday- Interview: Flamebringer by Elle Katharine White (@elle_k_writes, @HarperVoyagerUS)

* Friday- Promo + Giveaway: Beneath London's Fog by Iona Caldwell (@IonaCaldwell7, @XpressoTours, @SydeFyre)

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* Did you know you can follow UFI on these other sites?


You can also add me (as in Stacy) to your friends on these sites if you're on them.
 

 * I love comments so if you see something you like (or not) please comment away and let me know.

Friday, November 15, 2019

Promo + Giveaway: Beneath London's Fog by Iona Caldwell (@IonaCaldwell7, @XpressoTours, @SydeFyre)


Beneath London's Fog

Jonathan is the immortal master of Raven Hollow Manor - a decrepit mansion riddled with superstition, murder and restless ghosts. Beneath it lies a restless malice.

Its previous owner driven mad, violently kills his guests with a rusted ax, creating the perfect venue for Jonathan to seclude himself in a prison of his own device.

When the streets of London begin to run red with blood; the bodies exhibiting disturbing signs and baffling wounds, the identity of the killer remains elusive to police.

The bodies are just the beginning of Jonathan's troubles. A mysterious letter accusing Jonathan of committing the murders appear, raising suspicion in the police. Hidden beneath the mangled bodies, Jonathan soon realizes he is being forced to face demons he thought died in a forlorn past he attempted to escape.

One thing Jonathan knows for certain: He must deal with the demons of his past if he is to survive his future. Not only him but those he has come to love as well.
 
Excerpt:

The Streets Ran With Blood
I want it known before this tale begins – I am not a hero but a villain. I want no sympathy from whomever reads this recalling of my story; no mourning for the tragedy that befell my life. I am not an innocent man but a sinner forced to face the ravaging demons and ghosts of his own creation.
My story began as many do – a lie, a fire and murder. One of my kind murdered the woman I loved in the coldest of blood in one of history’s darkest times at the behest of a possessive noble.
After a run in with him in Nottingham, I soon found myself fleeing for my life from hunters, framed for a murder I had not committed.
Forgive me, I am getting ahead of myself.
Let me begin where this part of my story took place.
A bloody civil war ravaged London followed shortly by the Great Fire in 1666. A glorious time for me and those like me to take advantage of the chaos and remain hidden in the shadows.
I managed to pursue the one responsible for nearly getting me killed two centuries prior to the plague which befell London before the fire.
Within the shadows of the flickering flames of St. Peter’s Cathedral, I struck him down and departed the city, thus avoiding my demise.
I had yet to escape him, however, when his vengeful spirit devoured the souls of the innocent in a mad bloodlust.
Though greatly injured, I managed to drive his spirit to my new home Raven Hollow Manor in London, imprisoning him in stone coffin in the crypt beneath it.
Peace resumed in my life and nobles of all kinds enjoyed lavishly hosted parties within the halls of my estate.
Unfortunately, the short lived splendor at the hands of the hauntings filled the ears of the locals and my beloved home decayed into a tangled web of blood-filled rumors and superstition.
My once glorious halls became infested with dust, its crystal chandeliers covered with cobwebs, their spiders fat on the insects buzzing around the decay and mold-covered wallpaper.
Yet, there I remained as it proved a decent place to not only contain my greatest sin but served also as a castle of solitude.
The tides of time swept by in a cacophony of modernization and the movement from superstition to things only mortal science could explain.
I still needed to venture into the city, not only to feed but also to purchase other items needed for everyday living.
It wasn’t until the winter of 1910 that my silence would be disrupted in the form of a girl named Holly, a young street urchin accused of theft. I took her with me after using a bit of “persuasion” on the local officers to let her go.
They did not need to know where I would take her and she soon grew into a wonderful messenger on my behalf. She became a rather attractive young woman with bouncy blonde curls who kept me company with stories of what went on in the city.
I am sure, at one time, she became infatuated with me. It did not surprise me. To mortals, my kind held a certain allure they found difficult to ignore. I ended her infatuation quickly following a stern talking to and dousing with cold water.
One day, while in my labyrinthine garden, Holly came to me in tears.
When the people of London learned where Holly lived, the townsfolk dubbed her a practitioner of black magic.
One day, I found Holly sitting on one of the marble benches in the garden, sobbing. I picked a flower and put it in my daughter’s hair, sitting next to her beneath the statue of a praying angel.
“You need not worry about them, dearest. Mortals are always quick to place labels on what they do not understand.”
Holly sniffled and sobbed, wiping her nose and offering me a smile. “But why do they avoid this place, Jonathan?”
“Mortals fear what they cannot comprehend. Pay them no mind. You are a wonderful young woman,” I purred, brushing a blonde curl from her face.
The words appeared to have placated her as she smiled and joined me in a moonlight stroll through the garden.
***
Around midnight, after dinner with Holly, I dismissed her to bed. Once she departed, I sought out sustenance in the city.
A dense fog rolled in due to the cool winter weather and the recent days of rain.
Combined with the darkness of the streets and alleyways, I managed to meet a young working woman on the corner and wooed her into joining me for a walk to the park. As with other women, I made sure she understood I respected her body with gentle caresses and loving words murmured into her ears.
Once I placed her deep under my spell, I kissed the tender flesh of the woman’s throat and exposed shoulder, thanking her for her gift.
My fangs pierced her flesh, earning a moan of pleasure as her body surrendered its precious life force without any significant damage. Her body pressed against mine, her moans increasing with pleasure at my kiss.
I preferred this method to those of many of my other brethren who tore their victims apart during a feeding, choosing power to subdue instead of sexual allure.
When signs of weakness began manifesting I released my hold, picking her up after licking the small puncture wounds, my saliva healing them, leaving no marks or scars.
To assure she received care, I took her to the nearest hospital and deposited her on the steps without anyone noticing.
As always, I used hypnotic suggestion to erase her memory and leave her with a pleasant dream.
During the wee hours of the morning, I tended to enjoy the calls of the birds and the chirping of the crickets to help relieve the burden on my mind.
Not a soul roamed the streets near the bridge where I liked to sit and write poetry or read a book.
In the midst of the silence, a horrifying shriek caught my attention, almost startling me.
My pupils narrowed to those one might see in a viper or a cat. I let my body dissipate into the form of a black mist, hovering over the city in search of the source of the scream.
I found it in the shape of the body of a mangled man.
The whites of his eyes consumed most of the portion of the glossy orbs in his skull, mouth gaped open mid-scream.
I knelt before him, my own brows furrowed in frustration at the recognition of the familiar puncture wounds on the man’s throat. This cannot be. No other has hunted here in centuries.
The disturbing find made something clear.
Many of my kind preferred not to hunt in one place occupied by another of higher status, or in another’s territory for that matter. We changed due to the growing number of human hunters who would kill any of us they came across.
Despite the city’s size, my reputation often kept others out of my hunting grounds, for which I remained grateful.
This new kill had been malicious.
If I allowed such behavior to continue, it could draw the attention of the hunters or the local police to my home.
Whomever the responsible party, I needed to locate them and have a word with them or kill them if necessary.
My eyes closed, a heavy sigh drawing up from within my lungs. I placed my fingers over the man’s eyes, using a gentle touch to close them. “Forgive whichever of us did this to you. You did not deserve to die in such a horrific manner.”
Searching through the pockets of his trench coat, I located his identification card and vowed to send some money and roses to his family.
Sounds of sirens and the calls of the corner watchmen announced the arrival of the authorities. I left them the man’s wallet so they could inform his family of their loss.
I lurked in the shadows listening to the inspectors scrutinizing the scene.
“Bloody mystery, it is. This is the second mangled body we found this week. One has to wonder if we might be witnessing the birth of another blighter of a serial killer.” One of the inspectors scratched his head beneath the dome shaped hat.
I recognized him as Bertrand Abrams, a well-known officer and one of the only men who aided Holly during her visits to town.
From his looks, one would expect him to hail from Scotland. A bushy mustache and stringy hair with the consistency of sheep’s wool held the color of fire. Dimples set into high cheekbones and a double chin made me smile. A portly belly betrayed his affinity for too many scones and perhaps Scotch.
He had been wrong. This death held no mystery. I merely needed to find the one responsible before it resulted in too much of a personal dilemma.
Following the release of the corpse to the medical examiner, I took the form of black mist and drifted back to Raven Hollow.
The beginnings of my night would be haunted by dreams of a past filled with love, vengeance and pain.
It would be filled with shining auburn locks and eyes the color of the fresh leaves of spring.




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Iona Caldwell is the lover of all things arcane, folklore, nature and magic.

She is the author of the British Occult Fiction, Beneath London’s Fog set to be published by FyreSyde Publishing October 2019. Her second title, Hell’s Warden is forecasted to release in February of 2020. When she’s not busy weaving worlds of the arcane and dark, she’s spending time out in nature. An avid lover of books, Iona claims her biggest inspirations are H.P Lovecraft, Stephen King, Neil Gaiman and Edgar Allen Poe.

She believes storytellers should tell the stories they want to tell. As such, most of her titles are stand-alone novellas she hopes will leave her readers immersed in magical worlds.

She is also an extremely active book blogger who will review primarily horror, suspense, supernatural thriller, mystery, and occult/gothic fiction.

Find Iona and her books
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