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Release Blitz: The Empress of Xytae by Effie Calvin

12/30/2019

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Title: The Empress of Xytae

Series: Tales of Inthya, Book Four

Author: Effie Calvin

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: December 30, 2019

Heat Level: 2 - Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 83500

Genre: Science Fiction/Fantasy, LGBT, royalty, new adult, magic, paladins, gods, goddesses

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Synopsis

Crown Princess Ioanna of Xytae has kept her truthsayer blessing a secret for twenty years. In any other nation, her powerful magic would be cause for celebration. But Xytae’s patron is the war goddess Reygmadra, and the future empress is expected to be a brutal warrior. Reserved and peaceful by nature, Ioanna knows the court sees her as a disappointment. She does her best to assuage their worries every day, working quietly beside her mother to keep the empire running while her father is away at war. But when news of the emperor’s untimely death reaches the capital, Ioanna finds herself ousted by her younger sister Netheia, who has the war magic Ioanna lacks. Princess Vitaliya of Vesolda has come to Xytae to avoid her father’s upcoming wedding, which she sees as an affront to her mother’s memory. Vitaliya has absolutely no interest in politics or power struggles and intends to spend her time attending parties and embarrassing her family. But when she saves Ioanna’s life during Netheia’s coup, the two are forced to flee the capital together. Despite their circumstances, Vitaliya enjoys travelling with Ioanna and realizes that the future empress’s shy and secretive nature is the result of her unhappy childhood. Ioanna is equally unaccustomed to being in the company of one as earnest and straightforward as Vitaliya, for she has spent her life surrounded by ambitious and cutthroat nobles. Ioanna cannot allow her sister to continue their father’s legacy, and plots to rally supporters to her side so she can interrupt Netheia’s coronation. Vitaliya knows she ought to leave Xytae before the nation is ripped apart by civil war but finds she is unwilling to abandon Ioanna. But Ioanna’s enemies are always watching…and they’ve realized that Vitaliya is a weakness to be exploited.

Excerpt

The Empress of Xytae Effie Calvin © 2019 All Rights Reserved Reygmadra The Imperial Palace at Xyuluthe buzzed with anticipation. Empress Enessa had finally gone into labor, and the heir to the Xytan Empire would be born within a few hours. The archpriest of Adranus and the archpriestess of Pemele were both there to aid with the birth along with countless members of the imperial court who would bear witness to the historic event. Reygmadra, Goddess of Warfare and Eighth of the Ten, waited just outside the empress’s chambers, unseen by all who passed. She would not deny she was beginning to grow impatient. She was only here to bless the child, the future empress. Then she would be on her way. If the child ever arrived. Reygmadra had no tolerance for children, nor for the tedious conversations that always surrounded a birth—discussions of size, weight, and bodily functions. She had left the empress’s room because she had grown tired of the pointless hysterical screaming, but this was undoubtably worse. Unfortunately, she could not grant a blessing to a mortal until after it had taken its first breath. This was one of the rules she and her fellow gods had agreed upon when they’d first set out to create Inthya. Even Reygmadra could see the value in this one, for if babies could use magic in the womb, nobody would ever risk giving birth ever again. Emperor Ionnes was occupied, as always, by his campaign in Masim. He would not return to meet his new daughter for several months. Some of the members of the court were muttering about this, but Reygmadra did not see the trouble. What help could Ionnes be right now? He would only be in the way if he tried to help. At least in Masim, he was serving his nation by leading the army. She longed to be there, whispering ideas in his ear as he slept, soaking up the power she received when tens of thousands of warriors prayed to her in unison. Of course, the prayers would find her no matter where she was on the mortal realm of Inthya or in the celestial planes of Asterium. But there was nothing like experiencing it firsthand. Babies seemed to bring out the stupidest, weakest aspects of mankind. One of the Xytans was now relaying a tale of someone else’s labor, and Reygmadra decided to take a walk before she lost her temper and stabbed someone. She moved through the palace like a specter, her face unseen and heavy footsteps unheard. She was dressed as she usually did when she manifested on Inthya, as a common soldier with short sword and breastplate. If someone did somehow see her, they would think nothing of her. One of the rooms led out into a garden, and Reygmadra decided she had been indoors for too long. She stepped out into the sunlight, into the fresh air. Reygmadra didn’t think much of gardens—they were really just a waste of space—but this one was empty, so she would stay for a while. As she moved, she kept an ear to the palace, hoping she would soon hear distant cheers. “Still waiting?” A woman dressed as a Xytan noble stood there among the flowers. She had olive-toned skin and long, wavy ebony hair, and her face was impossibly, supernaturally beautiful. The dress she wore was simple but elegant, all wine-colored silk that perfectly emphasized wide hips and a narrow waist. Despite her disguise as a mortal woman, Reygmadra recognized Dayluue—Goddess of Love and Seventh of the Ten. “It will be a while yet,” said Reygmadra. “Why are you here?” “I’m feeling neglected,” Dayluue said. “You haven’t come to see me in ages.” “I’m busy.” “You’re always busy.” Crimson lips pressed together in a pout as Dayluue adjusted the neckline of her dress aggressively. “Maybe I should call on someone else. I wonder what Nara is doing.” Possessive rage seized at Reygmadra, and Dayluue began to laugh. But the sound was cut short when Reygmadra grabbed her by the shoulders. A moment later, she had Dayluue pressed between the garden wall and her own body. “I love it when you get jealous,” Dayluue said breathlessly. “Kiss me?” Reygmadra brought her lips to Dayluue’s throat. Dayluue tilted her head back, hands clasping at Reygmadra’s hair, and laughed again. “I have missed you,” she said. “I don’t believe you,” said Reygmadra because expecting strict monogamy from Dayluue was like expecting a bird to refrain from flight. “I’ll prove it, then.” Dayluue’s eyes sparkled. “No. I’m busy.” “I never took you for the sort to get excited over a birth. Or are you finally realizing what I’ve been saying about the population—” “No. I’m just giving her a blessing, and then I’m leaving.” “It might be a while,” warned Dayluue. “Labor can last an entire day.” Reygmadra shuddered. “Awful.” “Well, they wouldn’t have to do it so often if you didn’t keep convincing them to kill one another.” Reygmadra rolled her eyes. “Did you come here just to argue?” Dayluue pressed her lips to Reygmadra’s. “Only if you really want to,” she murmured into her mouth. The scent of her mortal body, flowers and sweat and pheromones, was intoxicating. They were antithesis to each other, and yet, there was an undeniable symmetry to their domains. They were two primal forces, mindless impulse given sentience. And sometimes the fiery lust Dayluue elicited from her felt identical to the thrill of battle. Perhaps that was why Dayluue always returned to her. Perhaps that was why Reygmadra did not object to Dayluue’s wandering. When they met like this in Asterium, it was a union of selves, of auras and magic, and two becoming one in the way none but their own kind could hope to understand. It was delightful to have Dayluue’s energy surging through her, to feel her own spirit within Dayluue. Reygmadra always came away from these unions feeling softer, lighter. But not weaker. Never weaker. On Inthya, with warm bodies made of blood and flesh, things were different. On Inthya, Dayluue was in control, and Reygmadra was helpless under her expert fingers. “Kiss me again,” said Dayluue. “But lower, this time.”

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Meet the Author

Effie is definitely a human being with all her own skin, and not a robot. She writes science fiction and fantasy novels and lives with her cat in the greater Philadelphia area.

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Rainbow Snippet December 28-29

12/28/2019

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​It's weekend, and time for more Rainbow Snippets. The Rainbow Snippets group on Facebook asks its members to share six sentence snippets from their work each weekend. Check out the group's Facebook page to read all the snippets and add lots of great books to your TBR. You'll find all sorts of books with the common thread that the main character identifies as LGBTQ+.

​It's the last Rainbow Snippet of 2019—how did that happen?? I'm finishing out the year with another snippet from The Merchant's Love, my warm and cozy fantasy romance set over Tournai's winter holidays. In this snippet, Maxen is walking his younger brother home from school and goes into a shop to look for a Midwinter gift for Faelen. (It's too long again. I'm sorry! I really do promise to do better next time!)
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The shopkeeper wasn’t gone more than that before he came back with a tray containing a glittering array of hair ornaments. He began explaining each piece but was called away almost immediately. Maxen accepted his apologies, happy to be left alone to look in peace. Well, as alone as he could be with Thierry hanging over his shoulder.

Maxen picked up a little silver comb. “Hmm.”

“Do you have a sweetheart? Is that who the gift is for?” Thierry piped up from behind him.

“I...I suppose I do.” He hadn’t ever thought of Faelen in those terms. “Who is she, then?”

He twisted to look at his brother. “His name is Faelen.”

Thierry’s eyes went wide. “Then why are you looking at hair combs?”

“Because he wears his hair long, and he likes them.” Maxen had

noticed that when Faelen did something with his hair other than leaving it loose, he seemed to have a fondness for combs and clips with fanciful work to them, some made of silver that stood out in his rich dark hair.

“Oh. All right.” Thierry turned to the tray and seemed to study it with interest. “What does he like? What is he like? You haven’t mentioned him.”



You can find more about The Merchant's Love here. You can also buy The Merchant's Love and all of my other books 50% off at Smashwords through January 1st. Thanks for reading today!
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End of Year Sale!

12/26/2019

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My books are all 50% off until January 1st in the Smashwords End of Year sale. It's a great time to catch up on any you might have missed, including the newest--The Spymaster's Secret. Find them all here.
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Happy Holidays!

12/25/2019

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Merry Christmas to all who are celebrating today! And Happy Hanukkah to all who are celebrating this week! And whether you're celebrating a holiday or not, I hope your day is filled with love and joy and laughter. 
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Holiday Reading Recs

12/23/2019

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I'm going to admit right now that I meant to have this post up days ago, but between day job work, editing, and holiday prep (including baking...so much baking...see below), it didn't happen. But I usually try to do a holiday book rec post, so I wanted to do it anyway. Anyone else like me, and reading holiday books starting at the beginning of the month and reading all through New Year's? If so, maybe you'll enjoy some recs. And if you have some for me, please share!

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I love holiday romances because they take all the joy and hope of other romances to a whole other level. They just give me a warm, cozy feeling I want to wallow in all month. Some of these books are old favorites I return to year after year, and some are new books I read for the first time this month...and are destined to become favorites to reread in years to come:

The Christmas Deal by Keira Andrews (and a bunch of her other holiday books too!)
One More Yule Log by Julia Talbot
Hometown Christmas by Garrett Leigh
The Winter Spirit by Indra Vaughn
Holiday Outing by Astrid Amara
Lone Star by Josh Lanyon (also Icecapade)
Merry Christmas, Mr Miggles by Eli Easton
North Pole City Tales series by Charlie Cochet
Love Around the Corner by Sally Malcolm
Holly and Oak by R Cooper
Wrapped Together by Annabeth Albert

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I'm absolutely positive I'm going to start kicking myself for not listing so many other books as soon as I post this (because there are so many good ones!), but that's a few anyway.

I haven't written a holiday romance yet, but if you're looking for a warm and cozy fantasy romance set during fall/winter/winter holidays, try The Merchant's Love. It's a warm hug of a book in which a bookish royal and the merchant awkwardly, endearingly besotted with him fall in love over books and baked goods.

​Happy reading, all!

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Rainbow Snippet December 21-22

12/21/2019

3 Comments

 
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​It's weekend, and time for more Rainbow Snippets. The Rainbow Snippets group on Facebook asks its members to share six sentence snippets from their work each weekend. Check out the group's Facebook page to read all the snippets and add lots of great books to your TBR. You'll find all sorts of books with the common thread that the main character identifies as LGBTQ+.

I have more from The Merchant's Love for you this weekend. Though it isn't a holiday book, it is a warm and cozy fantasy romance set partially over the winter holidays in Tournai. I went over the sentence limit on this snippet—I promise I'll do better next time!
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​He strolled into the city as dusk fell, coat fastened and gloves on against the cold. He could have ridden, but he and Maxen had arranged to meet near the theater and walking was easier. The streets were bustling even now, some people rushing in and out of the shops finishing their errands for the holiday. He’d purchased gifts already—little things, as that was what his family had agreed upon. Maxen’s gift had been difficult for him to choose, but he hoped Maxen would like it, even if its intended purpose made Faelen a little sad.


He bought a bag of roasted chestnuts from a cart on a corner and kept walking. The bag warmed his hand even through his glove, and the chestnuts were as delicious as he remembered. They didn’t grow in Teilo, but he used to eat them practically by the pound during the winter when he was a child. The treat warmed him inside and out, at least partly from the glow of pleasure and nostalgia.

When he approached the theater, Maxen was coming toward him from the other direction, and Faelen smiled. He kept walking until he and Maxen met, until only inches separated them, and looked up into Maxen’s twinkling eyes.
“Hello.”

You can find out more about The Merchant's Love here. Thanks for reading today, and happy holidays!
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Writing Updates and News

12/18/2019

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I'm not sure when my last writing update was, but I have the feeling this one is long overdue. First off, I finished writing the next Tournai book and submitted it to my editor. Finally. It's been a tough writing year with everything that's been happening in the world and everything that's been happening with Dreamspinner and just everything. So this book took me much longer to write than I expected, and it's the only book I finished writing this year, which wasn't the plan. But I finished it and I really like it. I hope you will too when you read Griffen and Kirill's story. More news on that when I have some for you.

In other Tournai updates, I've been polishing up the first four Tournai books--The Prince's Consort, The Artist's Masquerade, The Scholar's Heart, and The Sorcerer's Guardian—since I got the rights back from Dreamspinner and sending them to my editor over at NineStar. NineStar will be republishing them, but I don't have a timetable for you yet. It looks like The Prince's Consort may be out in February, but it's a tentative date, so don't hold me to it yet! Natasha Snow is working on a new cover for it now, and I'm working on the edits my editor just sent me. So, lots of progress and as soon as I have more news, I'll share it. I've actually really enjoyed going back through these books. My writing has definitely evolved (improved?) since I wrote them, but it's reminded me I still really love these characters and stories. 

Last bit of news for you: The Spymaster's Secret is a nominee in the 2019 #readRchat Awards! I'm so excited to be nominated among such great books and authors! If you'd like to vote for your favorites, the ballot is here, and you can vote through the rest of this week.

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Rainbow Snippet December 14-15

12/14/2019

5 Comments

 
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​It's weekend, and time for more Rainbow Snippets. The Rainbow Snippets group on Facebook asks its members to share six sentence snippets from their work each weekend. Check out the group's Facebook page to read all the snippets and add lots of great books to your TBR. You'll find all sorts of books with the common thread that the main character identifies as LGBTQ+.

​I decided to share another snippet from The Merchant's Love this weekend. I haven't written a holiday book yet, but this one is set around the winter holidays in Tournai and it has the warm, cozy feeling that goes along with it. In this snippet, Faelen and Maxen are at the city's Midwinter festival, wandering the marketplace. (Note to explain a reference in the second part of the snippet: Faelen's cousin Philip is the Crown Prince, and he married his husband Amory a few years earlier at Midwinter, so their anniversary is also celebrated during the holiday.)
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​Jumelle’s marketplace always bustled and was filled with wares from seemingly everywhere in and outside of Tournai, but at Midwinter, even more goods crowded the stalls. Faelen had almost forgotten—the capital of Teilo didn’t have near as much diversity of goods and food. With some silent accord, he and Maxen decided to look at everything, and Faelen did share his food, holding out the little bag so they both could eat from it.

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They looked at hats and gloves, at swords and knives, at leatherwork, at bound journals and stalls of secondhand books. After discovering little miniature portraits of Philip and Amory with the date of their wedding painted on them and then odd little dolls depicting the two men in their wedding finery, they made a game of seeing what other strange merchandise commemorating the anniversary they could find—and tried not to be too obvious in their laughter. Painted pottery, various embroidered items, toys, glassware. Faelen kept shaking his head as they saw ever more outlandish tributes.

If you'd like to know more about The Merchant's Love, you can find it here. Thanks for reading today!
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Release Blitz: This Christmas by JR Hart

12/11/2019

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Title: This Christmas

Author: J.R. Hart

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: December 9, 2019

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 56800

Genre: Contemporary Holiday, LGBT, gay, in the closet, holiday season, coming out, virgin, opposites attract, new adult

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Synopsis

Alex Ross can’t catch a break when it comes to Christmastime. With a long history of bad holiday experiences—like getting rejected under the mistletoe or playing referee to his mother’s divorce—he’s just trying to survive it. New in town and a stranger to everyone, he plans on ignoring the holiday altogether. That would be easier if his ridiculously cheerful new neighbor would cool it on the Christmas hype. Nicholas is annoying and loud. Worst of all, he’s also impossibly attractive and nice to everyone. It’s getting harder for Alex to deny his interest, especially when Nicholas leaves Christmas cookies at his door and wages a snowball fight against him on the coldest day of the year. Can Alex open up to him and get into the holiday spirit before he endures another ruined Christmas?

Excerpt

Christmas Spirit Peppermint. Everywhere Alex looked, on every shelf, peppermint surrounded him. Before Thanksgiving had ended, someone sneezed red-and-white stripes throughout the grocery store. Most of the year, Alex was indifferent to peppermint. He didn’t have a personal grudge against the flavor, not really. At Christmas, however, indifference became loathing. What was the point of basing an entire season around one specific flavor profile? He didn’t get the excitement of mint, the mad rush to stock up as if the ingredient were scarce. Calculating an extra ten minutes into his routine to account for peppermint mochas being all the rage and the long lines accompanying the seasonal drink? Not particularly enjoyable. Personally, Alex preferred peppermint in the summertime, stirred into a glass of lemonade. In the current season, chamomile tea was a far better option, particularly in Omaha, which may as well have been a frozen wasteland. As he loaded the chamomile variety into his cart, he looked at the peppermint tea beside the others on the shelf again. How many people buy that thinking this is the only time it’s available? It wasn’t a limited holiday tea. Do people really not know this? Peppermint tea was right there, on the shelf, year-round. But somehow, no one touched the tea in the summertime. Alex found it a little scary how some crafty marketing on the part of a few national giants—a few food brands—could push peppermint to the forefront of everyone’s minds, convincing them the one flavor was a requirement for a good Christmas. Marketing alone could make one flavor of tea, available year-round, fly off the shelves during the right time of year. “Madness.” While he could deal with the fascination—darn near obsession—with peppermint products surrounding him in the aisles, he couldn’t stand the chaos and overcrowding Christmas caused. He hadn’t realized he’d been standing in front of the tea for as long as he had until a woman bumped him out of the way—no “excuse me” or anything—to reach the tea. He watched her snatch up several boxes of the very same peppermint green tea he’d rolled his eyes over. He wanted to be home badly, instead of at the store. “You know they sell that stuff all year?” Alex asked. Stupid question. She replied with a glare, then added two more boxes to her cart before wheeling away. “Okay, then.” Comfort food. Alex stalked away in search of comfort food. Not comfort food in the way most people would define it, but rather the food he personally found most comforting. Starting with the obvious item—the largest jar of peanut butter the store had to offer. He wondered how offended the cashier would be if he grabbed a pack of plastic spoons and tore into the jar now. He needed comfort. Moving to a new city, right before the holidays? Yeah. He needed peanut butter. Bread wasn’t important. His preference was to eat the substance straight out of the jar, where the creamy—never crunchy—mass could squish in and fill the emotional void left behind from the tension of shopping at Christmastime, the internal stress from packed aisles crowding in on him, overwhelming him. He scuffled his feet along the floor, head low, set on trying to avoid eye contact with any other shoppers. Alex wasn’t in the mood to conjure the polite, Christmassy grin he was forced to give the other shoppers. The store piped in annoyingly saccharine, cheerful Christmas tunes, and the music was starting to give him a headache. I hate Christmas. He hadn’t always, but right now, he couldn’t bring himself to like the holiday. He attempted to elbow his way around a cookie display with shoppers crowded around. When he couldn’t manage to get through the crowd, he maneuvered between, reaching an arm in under someone’s elbow and above another shopper’s wrist. He grabbed two boxes, tossing them unceremoniously into his cart. Too late to put the cookies back, he noticed the words “candy cane,” printed on the label. With the crowd, there was no way he could reach in and put the packages back. What about the season necessitated peppermint added to the cream-filled center of a sandwich cookie? He didn’t understand the need there. “What’s wrong with plain Oreos?” No one heard his question. Which was fine—he hadn’t wanted an answer. He should have ordered his groceries online, he realized in hindsight. But, he was here now. Leaving the store empty-handed didn’t make sense. Saccharine tunes came through the speakers, crooning classics surrounding shoppers in the store. “On the eleventh day of Christmas, my true love gave to me…” From the next aisle, he could hear a voice singing along. The stranger didn’t bother to hum or sing along quietly as most other shoppers did. Instead, he made his presence known. “Eleven pipers piping.” His voice was booming and excited. “Ten lords a-leaping!” Whoever he was, he was getting into the music, holiday cheer annoying Alex from an aisle over. As Alex grabbed a box of cereal off the shelf, he caught a glimpse of a garish Christmas sweater, a peek of beard, and lips moving along to the song. Of course. He was desperate to get out of the store. The sooner he finished shopping, the sooner he could leave the festive hellhole and take a nap. His mind flitted to the booze aisle. Alex considered alcohol to be a decent enough solution for getting through the holiday season. Unfamiliar with the store’s layout, he wanted to find where he needed to go so scanned above him for a sign. He didn’t see it. Instead, he turned and saw a lone box of peppermint bark on an endcap. He debated grabbing some. If the candy was any good, it might make up for the peppermint overload the season itself had. Besides, it was the last box. The fear of missing out overwhelmed him. Peppermint wasn’t all bad, even at Christmas. He reached his hand out to grasp the box as a large hand wrapped around the other side. “Oh. Oh gosh.” A man, the one who had been singing, judging by his festive, candy-cane-striped sweater matching the one Alex had seen through the aisle divider, looked at him. “You can have it,” he said, but he didn’t let go of the box. He was offering with the hope Alex would decline and let him have the box. Alex could barely stifle a groan as he looked up at him. The guy looked a little too into Christmas in the sweater, and his obnoxious attire was a lot to take in. Alex wasn’t short. He rarely had to look up at anyone. But this festive giant towered over him, so he let go. “I don’t even like peppermint bark,” Alex said. “Take it.” The last thing he wanted was to get on this guy’s Grinchy side over a box of candy he didn’t actually want. “What?” The man in front of him stared, aghast, mouth open, jaw dropped in an exaggerated way Alex had only ever seen in movies, as if Alex had somehow personally attacked him with the statement. “You’re not a fan? It’s a holiday staple, man!” Alex resisted any and all temptation to tell him, “I’m not your man.” He hated when people said things like that, so overly friendly, as if they knew each other, but he bit his tongue. Instead, he tried to hide his basket behind him, remembering it was full of peppermint cookies, not that he’d wanted them either. He worried the man had caught an eyeful, but then again, did he really care? He wasn’t on trial here! Apparently, what was on trial was whether or not he liked peppermint bark. Christmas and everything related to the holiday was on his last nerve; that was certain. “No,” Alex said. “I am not a fan of peppermint bark. All it is is mint and chocolate. Go get a box of chocolate mints in the candy aisle—exact same thing, but the stuff sits there year-round, and nobody’s trying to convince you you’ll have the worst Christmas ever if you don’t have it.” “Uh…” The man cocked his head to one side. Alex considered he might have come off a little too strong, and for a moment, he was embarrassed by his mini-tirade about how awful the holidays were. He didn’t back down though. In fact, he realized he’d made a good point. Like he’d told the guy, he could go to the candy aisle if he needed chocolate and mint so badly. “It’s true,” Alex said. Frustrated with himself for getting sucked into the marketing, he was thankful some crazy person in a sweater had come along to snap him out of buying the peppermint bark—or worse, into the peppermint delusion—when he didn’t want it. “It’s not the same!” The man protested. “This has a pepperminty crunch! It’s magical! I can’t imagine not loving peppermint bark!” Alex quirked an eyebrow and backed away slowly. “Or Christmas! Or candy canes! Of course, I bet that’s because my mom set me up with the whole naming me after Saint…” Alex shook his head, muttering “Merry Christmas,” and went down an aisle before the man could finish explaining how his mother’s love for Christmas somehow translated into a desperate need for peppermint. He didn’t have the energy for any of this. Instead, he stalked away, grabbing a bag of chocolate-dipped pretzels—sans any sign of peppermint—before checking out.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Amazon | Smashwords | Barnes & Noble | Kobo

Meet the Author

J R Hart is a queer 30-something novelist passionate about telling romantic and erotic stories about LGBT+ characters. When J R isn’t writing, you can find her at the science museum with her son, cheering for her favorite soccer team, or at The Bean Coffee Co plotting her next work. You can find her on Twitter and Instagram as @jrhartauthor, or on her website at jrhartauthor.com.

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Release Blitz: Grimmer Intentions by Jodi Hutchins

12/9/2019

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Title: Grimmer Intentions

Series: Tales from the Grim, Book Two

Author: Jodi Hutchins

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: December 9, 2019

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 91100

Genre: Paranormal, LGBT, romance, paranormal, demons, ghosts, spirits

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Synopsis

She screwed up. She broke protocol. She saved a life. Grim Reaper Margo Petrov may have resurrected a drowned surfer on the brink of death, but she isn’t earning any awards or receiving employee of the month from Corporate; she’s under more scrutiny from the Grim governing body than ever before. Since she has a massive secret that could spell disaster if revealed, she sure as hell doesn’t want to be in the spotlight, in any form. Margo vows to keep her head down and stay out of trouble, reaping her quota of spirits lest she cause more problems for herself and the woman she saved with an illegal blood bond. She certainly shouldn’t be opening doors to the Fae lands or offering her neck to an Empusa woman suffering from bloodlust, but Margo’s laundry list of bad decisions keeps growing. With the threat of becoming decommissioned by Corporate looming in her periphery, Margo stumbles deeper into the politics of her people and soon realizes their intentions are far worse than she initially thought.

Excerpt

“Margo, calm down. You can’t go killing someone just because they pissed you off.” Margo Petrov pumped her arms, increasing her speed as she cut across the dead grass of the front lawn, though her initial fury had settled to a low broil. The cold metal of the baseball bat against her palm was soothing but not calming enough to ease the rage completely. The sound of Luis’s sneakers pounding the asphalt behind her indicated he’d finally caught up. “I’m not going to kill them,” she grumbled. Luis snorted. “Okay, well, when you storm out of your apartment, yelling, ‘I’m going to fucking kill ’em, Luis,’ I think I can safely assume you’re going to kill someone.” She stopped abruptly, causing Luis to run into her chest as she turned to face him. “Fine,” she said, tossing the bat into the bushes lining the sidewalk. She grabbed his shoulders, lowering her gaze to his. “Nobody fucks with my brother without consequence. Nobody,” she said, shaking him slightly to emphasize her seriousness. Headlights from a passing car gleamed in his wide brown-eyed gaze as he nodded. “Besides”—she started, as she dropped her hands from him, quirking an eyebrow—“I just want to know if they’re afraid of the dark.” She’d been livid when Luis told her the resident group of asshats from their high school decided to give Luis hell on his way back from the library. Without further discussion, Margo continued down the cracked sidewalks of downtown Philadelphia. “They still hang out at the bowling alley on Daly Ave?” Luis huffed a discontented sigh, eliciting a grin from Margo. “Dude come on. Think about this for a second; do you really want to risk another arrest? You’re almost eighteen, and you could be charged as an adult.” He had a point, and she admitted that to herself, but she continued down the sidewalk anyway, cutting across the street, her feet displacing loose black asphalt pebbles on the worn roadway. “Yeah, but they need to leave you the hell alone. This is getting ridiculous.” For years, she and her brother experienced taunting for their otherness, Luis taking the brunt end most times. The basketball team tormented Luis for merely existing; however, Margo guessed they blamed their mocking on his differences. They needed a good scare, using a bit of magic, the otherness his tormentors weren’t aware of. She wanted to scare them so bad they’d piss themselves. If all else failed, she’d just beat the shit out of them. Luis gave a shrug of nonchalance, something she instantly recognized as her brother’s passive language, which furthered the desire to teach the perpetrators a lesson. Instead of digging into his dismissal, she turned and continued her way toward downtown. Luis followed. The streets were busy even though rush hour had ended a few hours prior. Cars zipped past, a stray honk resounding a few blocks away, voices rising in a cacophonous argument. The late-night city sounds were laden with a warning, hinting at the kind of night bad things happened, stirring a deep foreboding in the air around them. Luis jabbed her in the ribs, ripping Margo from her eerie thoughts. “Hey, do you see that?” He pointed to LOVE Park on the opposite side of the crosswalk. Standing beside the water fountain was a child, their head turning from side to side in rapid succession. Luis was clearly pointing to the small person; however, the iridescent shift of air around the child indicated to Margo they weren’t alive. Before meeting Luis, she agreed with the titles given to her—weirdo, crazy, psychic—the names condensing her down to a freak who could see ghosts with the only person to possibly believe her long dead. Of course, she’d been ecstatic to find kinship in another, to prove at least to herself she wasn’t crazy. That is until Luis stopped for every spirit in sight with their Sally-sob story. “Yeah, I see them, and no, we don’t have time.” Luis scoffed just as the light turned, and he hurried across the street without waiting for Margo. She rushed after him, forgoing her planned scare tactics on the basketball team in hopes she’d convince him to leave well enough alone. They approached the park’s edge, Luis carefully watching the child. Luckily, the park held no other visitors, alive or dead. “We have to help her,” he whispered before he stuck his lower lip out. She rolled her eyes. “They aren’t stray puppies, Luis. We can’t help every single one of them.” Brows cinching, he met her gaze with an icy stare. “Maybe this is why we can see them, to help them move on.” Though reluctant to admit it, she’d come to the very same conclusion herself a long time ago. With no way of knowing why they could guide ghostly apparitions to the other side, she couldn’t come up with a better reason herself. She glanced over at the redheaded girl and sighed. “Fine, but we need to be quick, and I still want to find those idiots so I can mess up their night.”

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Jodi Hutchins is a healthcare professional by day and fanatical writer by night. They are also an avid reader, coffee connoisseur, helpless romantic, amateur artist, enthusiastic maker-upper of things, spouse, and parent. The frequent rain of western Washington doesn’t stop Jodi and their wife from gallivanting through the next trail head with their two children.

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