Showing posts with label Release Day Blitz. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Release Day Blitz. Show all posts

Thursday, April 22, 2021

RELEASE DAY BLITZ & GIVEAWAY ~ THE PHYSICS OF GRIEF by Mickey J. Corrigan


I am so excited that THE PHYSICS OF GRIEF by Mickey J. Corrigan is available now and that I get to share the news!

If you haven’t yet heard about this wonderful book, be sure to check out all the details below.

This blitz also includes a giveaway for some a $10 Amazon GC courtesy of MIckey & Rockstar Book Tours. So if you’d like a chance to win, check out the giveaway info below.

About The Book:

Title: THE PHYSICS OF GRIEF

Author: Mickey J. Corrigan

Pub. Date: April 22, 2021

Publisher: QuoScript UK

Pages: 210

Formats: Paperback, eBook

Find it: Goodreads, Amazon, Kindle, B&N, TBD, Bookshop.org

Seymour, a down-and-out former teacher and semi-alcoholic who is haunted by the death of his girlfriend, tells the story of how he lifted himself out of grief and apathy. The catalyst is a mystery man - Raymond C. Dasher - who enters Seymour's life via a chance encounter and persuades him to accept a job as a professional griever. A series of adventures follow, some macabre, some sinister, some extremely funny, as Seymour encounters an improbably diverse but highly credible set of characters united only by the fact that all are interacting in some way with death. Most complex is Milton Lasker, a former mobster whose relationship with Seymour is ambivalent, to say the least - even his overtures of help are terrifying. But then there's Yvonne, who reminds Seymour what it's like to feel alive. The Physics of Grief is a unique, quirky crime novel presenting the upside of funerals and a hopeful look at second chances - and at death.

Book Trailer:


 

Excerpt:

"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," the man said. "I've seen you in here a few times this week and … if I may be frank? You look like you need something to do. It just so happens I have a bit of work that might interest you."           

His lips smiled while his eyes stared out coldly from some unknowable interior space. In the crowded café, he was closer to me than the pandemic six-feet regulation allowed, but that didn't faze me. At this point in my life, an early visit from the grim reaper would've been welcome.

"Shall I tell you about the job?" he asked.           

His solicitous demeanor gave me the kind of creeps I got around priests and undertakers. For good reason, it turned out. The man slid his business card across the stained Formica table. Raymond C. Dasher, Professional Grievers, Inc. was printed on a laminated white card with a local phone number in the same basic block font.           

"Here's how it works," Raymond said. "My service is unique, and I have built my reputation on the promise of complete discretion. My clients come to me reluctantly when they are desperate for help, desperate enough to pay top dollar for my services. And with what do I provide them? I provide them with peace of mind at a time of utmost vulnerability. I provide them with a means of exiting the stage to a standing ovation. A way to say farewell with the kind of royal fanfare they think they deserve. Especially now that funerals are less populated. In the modern era, virus or no virus, we should give the dying whatever they desire. Don't you agree?"

He glanced around us at the café crowd and smiled in a patronizing way before he continued to pontificate. "In Nigeria when a relative dies you shave your head and refuse to answer the telephone. Can you imagine anyone in our society willing to make such a sacrifice? In certain Australian tribes after the death of a spouse the widow never speaks again. She uses sign language for the rest of her life. No American wife would ever consider shutting up to mourn the loss of her husband." He shook his head in disapproval. "The Canadian Ojibwa would pour ashes on their heads after a loved one died, and the men pushed knives, needles, or thorns through the skin of their chests and arms. The LoDagaa of Ghana are said to bind up the relatives of the deceased in order to restrain their grief. Many cultures once buried alive those closest to the recently departed. Women and slaves were walled up in tombs, some with a view of the church conducting the funeral. Victorians dressed in black and behaved like living monuments to the dead for years afterward."

The café manager wore a thick double mask. He circled, waiting to come in for the kill. He wanted his table back. When he flapped the check at me, I waved him away. "Go on," I said to Raymond. 

About Mickey J. Corrigan:

Originally from Boston, Mickey J. Corrigan hides out in the lush ruins of South Florida to write pulp fiction, literary crime, and psychological thrillers. Her stories have been called "delightful pulp," "oh so compulsive," "dark and gritty," and "bizarre but believable."

 

Website | Tumblr | YouTube | Goodreads | Amazon

Giveaway Details:

1 winner will win a $10 Amazon GC, International. 


Friday, March 19, 2021

Release Day Blitz & Giveaway ~ PROTECTED BY THE SPIDER’S WEB by Aria Winter & Jade Waltz


I am so excited that PROTECTED BY THE SPIDER’S WEB by Aria Winter & Jade Waltz is available now and that I get to share the news!

If you haven’t yet heard about this wonderful book, be sure to check out all the details below.

This blitz also includes a giveaway for a $10 Amazon GC courtesy of Rockstar Book Tours, Aria, & Jade. So if you’d like a chance to win, check out the giveaway info below.

 About The Book:

Title: PROTECTED BY THE SPIDER’S WEB (Cosmic Guardians #3)

Author: Aria Winter & Jade Waltz

Pub. Date: March 19, 2021

Publisher: Purple Fall Publishing

Formats: Paperback, eBook

Pages: 153

Find it: Goodreads, Amazon

Read for FREE with a Kindle Unlimited Membership!

In my dreams, I remember bits and pieces of my past life. I was a queen and in love with my guard.

All the queens before me had harems, both for protection and to help them wield their elemental powers. I was the first to refuse this, wanting only one man to be mine.

It led to my death.

Now fate has granted me a second chance. Five men are destined to become my guards and join my harem.

With lavender eyes that seem to stare straight to my soul, Davin intrigued me from the moment we first met. Part of me wonders if he is supposed to be mine.

The High Mage says I’ll recognize my guards by touch. I’ve already found two, but there are still three more.

The prophecy says that one of them is destined to betray me. And as I find myself growing closer to Davin, I cannot silence the lingering doubt that he could be the one.

Can I trust him with both my life and my heart?

Protected By The Spider's Web is the third book in Cosmic Guardians, a sci-fi-fantasy superhero series where the heroine has to find her destined guards… and fall in love with them before time runs out! This is the third book in a medium burn series that’s meant to be read in order.


Grab the rest of the Cosmic Guardians series now!

 

About Aria:

Aria Winter loves to write romance. Especially science fiction and fantasy since that's pretty much all she reads. She lives with her husband, 2 cats and 1 dog near Ft. Worth, TX.

In addition to reading and writing, she loves biking, travel, and sitting on the deck drinking coffee or tea when it rains.

 Website | Twitter | Facebook | Instagram | BookBub | Amazon | Goodreads

About Jade:

Jade Waltz lives in Illinois with her husband, two sons, and her three crazy cats. She loves knitting, playing video games, and watching Esports. Jade’s passions include the arts, green tea and mints — all while writing and teaching marching band drill in the fall.

Jade has always been an avid reader of the fantasy, paranormal and sci-fi genres and wanted to create worlds she always wanted to read.

She writes character driven romances within detailed universes, where happily-ever-afters happen for those who dare love the abnormal and the unknown. Their love may not be easy—but it is well worth it in the end.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Instagram | Pinterest | BookBub | Amazon | Goodreads

Giveaway Details:

1 lucky winner will win a $10 Amazon Gift Card, International.


a Rafflecopter giveaway

Friday, February 19, 2021

Release Day Blitz & Giveaway ~ HEALED BY THE EARTH DRAGON PRINCE by Aria Winter & Jade Waltz


I am so excited that HEALED BY THE EARTH DRAGON PRINCE by Aria Winter & Jade Waltz is available now and that I get to share the news!

If you haven’t yet heard about this wonderful book, be sure to check out all the details below.

This blitz also includes a giveaway for a $10 Amazon GC courtesy of Rockstar Book Tours, Aria, & Jade. So if you’d like a chance to win, check out the giveaway info below.

 About The Book:

Title: HEALED BY THE EARTH DRAGON PRINCE (Elemental Dragon Warriors #4)

Author: Aria Winter & Jade Waltz

Pub. Date: February 19, 2021

Publisher: Purple Fall Publishing

Formats: Paperback, eBook

Pages: 167

Find it: Goodreads, Amazon

Read for FREE with a Kindle Unlimited Membership!

We left Earth on the colonization ships and ended up crashing on a strange new world full of dragon shifters.

Now that we’re here, I’m trying to find my place. I was one of the ship’s doctors and now I’m studying to be a Healer.

When disaster strikes, members of the Earth Clan Healers are called upon to help. Little did I know their Prince would be among them.

As soon as we meet, he claims I am his fated one—his Linaya. But we barely know each other and I’m afraid to rush into something so soon.

But the more time we spend together, I find myself drawn to Kaj. I trust him with my life, but can I trust him with my heart?

Grab all the books in the series here!





About Aria:

Aria Winter loves to write romance. Especially science fiction and fantasy since that's pretty much all she reads. She lives with her husband, 2 cats and 1 dog near Ft. Worth, TX.

In addition to reading and writing, she loves biking, travel, and sitting on the deck drinking coffee or tea when it rains.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Instagram | BookBub | Amazon | Goodreads

About Jade:

Jade Waltz lives in Illinois with her husband, two sons, and her three crazy cats. She loves knitting, playing video games, and watching Esports. Jade’s passions include the arts, green tea and mints — all while writing and teaching marching band drill in the fall.

Jade has always been an avid reader of the fantasy, paranormal and sci-fi genres and wanted to create worlds she always wanted to read

She writes character driven romances within detailed universes, where happily-ever-afters happen for those who dare love the abnormal and the unknown. Their love may not be easy—but it is well worth it in the end.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Instagram | Pinterest | BookBub | Amazon | Goodreads


Giveaway Details:

1 lucky winner will win a $10 Amazon Gift Card, International.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Sunday, February 14, 2021

Release Day Blitz & Giveaway ~ THE WISDOM OF BLOOD by A.G. Howard


I am so excited that THE WISDOM OF BLOOD by A.G. Howard is available now and that I get to share the news!

If you haven’t yet heard about this wonderful book, be sure to check out all the details below.

This blitz also includes a giveaway for some AWESOME prizes courtesy of A.G. & Rockstar Book Tours. So if you’d like a chance to win, check out the giveaway info below.

 About The Book:

Title: THE WISDOM OF BLOOD (Nocturnus #1)

Author: A.G. Howard

Pub. Date: February 14, 2021

Publisher: Golden Orb Press

Pages: 431

Formats: Paperback (available in March), eBook (out now!)

Find it: Goodreads, Amazon, B&N, iBooks

The gaslit gothic atmosphere of a Victorian penny dreadful meets the dangerous romance of Hades and Persephone in A.G. Howard’s newest lush adult vampire fantasy fraught with passion, horror, and mystery.

In 1832 England, to fall from the peerage is the kiss of death. Yet penniless Mordecai Dureance still has a life worth living: an honest vocation and a humble cottage where he, his new bride, Lynora, and his little brother, Isaac, can be a family. But Mordecai knows he’s meant for more than gardening, if only society wouldn’t shun the unholy byproducts of his horticultural experiments. When an ancient sect of vampires lures him into their hidden city, Nocturnus—an ornate labyrinth of tunnels deep beneath Tatabury’s substratum—they promise wealth and acceptance beyond his imaginings. Discarding his human trappings, Mordecai embraces the darkness and its foundation of sins and blood. Yet he can’t forget his light: the woman who loved him, poverty notwithstanding. To contact Lynora on topside is forbidden, but to live an eternity without her is unthinkable. So, Mordecai will break any laws—natural and unnatural alike—to bring her down into his monstrous world.

Lynora Dureance’s life has crumbled under her blue-stockinged feet. Her wealthy family turned away when she married beneath their class. And now, mere weeks after abandoning Lynora and his young brother, her groom returns to claim her. When Lynora awakens, a victim of Mordecai’s bite, she finds herself cloistered in a castle outside of Tatabury. Her rescuers, a clandestine group of women who raise bats, share her gruesome fate—not yet full vampire but starving for blood. By isolating themselves and holding galas to entrance men, the Sisterhood survives without resorting to murder. In contrast, the vampires’ lethal feedings mark them as monsters. Each sister learns to defend herself, honing combative skills that will help Lynora reclaim her humanness and retrieve Isaac from the local orphan house. The one caveat: she must kill the seductive creature who tainted her blood—if she can see past his face and forget the brilliant gardener she once loved.

Lynora’s and Mordecai’s conflicting paths converge on one explosive night as they discover a strange blood-related illness infecting the children at the orphanage. Only by violating the laws that separate them, and bridging the broken trust between their worlds, can Lynora and Mordecai uncover the real monster and stop the evil force behind the plague—before it claims Isaac as its final victim.

 Excerpt:

Ah. Vampire bats.” Sitting across from her, the priest studied the crackling fire and took a sip of tea. Lynora watched his clear, olive complexion, glazed to shadows and light by the flickering flames. “I have been studying them for some time. At first by choice. Now . . . by necessity.” His square jaw twitched, carving shrewd lines into his masculine profile. “Today I had resolved my studies futile. Had just raised a prayer for guidance and strolled outside to watch the children play, when I saw this . . . statue of gold . . . hiding in the hedges.”  He shifted to look at her. “You may be made-up to resemble an idol carved of precious metal. But I believe God sent you to me.”

“God sent me?”  Taken aback, Lynora swallowed a bitter laugh.

“Angels take many forms in biblical accounts,” he added.

“I assure you, I’m nothing of the kind. I lack the wings . . . and the halo of light.”

His mouth drew to a wide, straight-toothed smile even more inviting than one of his youthful half-grins. Before he could reply, the thunk of children’s footfalls drummed up the steps to the second floor, indicating the children had finished their meal.

The ample Miss Plum muddled into the game room with a porcelain teapot in hand along with an extra silver cup. She took one look at Lynora and nearly dropped the piping hot brew. Her double-chin bubbled beneath her neck as she gritted her teeth. She wobbled to the hearth to pour fresh tea into the silver kettle. The extra cup settled with a clink on the tray, unfilled. Wiping the side of the silver pot with a cloth napkin, the woman mumbled, “Shameless. In a house full of children, seducin’ a priest.” Her tongue clucked in resounding agreement. “Foreigners. Rag-mannered mollies, all of ye.” Then out the door she shuffled.

Lynora’s host arched his brows at her.

Try as she might to hold her tongue, Lynora couldn’t stop from defending the ladies of the castle. “Believe what you will, Father. Rumors abound. But we are not wanton or solicitous. We’re merely entertainers. A means to an income so we might keep the castle that provides us sanctuary from a nightmare existence few others could ever conceive.” She pinched her wrist, missing the protection of her bracelets, of the tall, stony walls and the iron gates. The realization of how truly foreign she was now, in this world to which she once belonged, crackled through her chest like ice forming on water.

Placing his saucer at his feet, the priest leaned forward. His compassionate expression melted some of the frost gathered around her heart. “Earlier, you asked who I am. I’m Father Lucien Tanden. My home parish is in London. I’m not here to judge you, nor to be your confessor. I’ve come to help these children, nothing more.”

“Oh.” Lynora stroked Rime in an effort to regain some composure. “I am Starling, of Gwyndolaire.”

He surprised her by cupping a palm over the hand that protected Rime. “Be you an angel, an idol, or even a songbird, you are an answered prayer. For you hold within your grasp what I suspect might be the key to an illness isolated to the children within this home. And you have knowledge beyond any I have met, as you have tamed the desmodus.”

She tamped the urge to flinch at the word. “This is no vampire bat. He’s a pipistrelle. He feeds on bugs . . . moths, lacewings. Not blood.”

A tiny crinkle etched between the priest’s brows. “Of course.” His hold on her hand grew warmer. “The pipistrelle. I remember reading of them. No. They aren’t of the desmodus genus, are they? But perhaps similar enough to give us some insight into their habitudes?”

“You say you have been studying them?” 

“I’ve collected many books over the years.” He gestured to an avalanche of biology and zoological tomes piled in a far corner. “Only recently have my studies brought me to this home, where I find words in print are nothing to life experience. I borrowed two of the viscount’s groundmen today. Sent them to the cemetery. They returned with stories of a haunted mausoleum. Of ghostly bats . . . one such as yours, white with shimmering pale wings and a chain upon its leg. I thought they had gone mad. Then you turn up with the little culprit in tow. God sent you to me. I’m sure of it. The only question is, are you willing to share your command of these creatures to help me solve this ghastly riddle?”  As he released Lynora’s hand, his gaze caught on the bulge at her knuckle where her wedding ring resided.

“Why you?” she asked, tucking her left hand beneath Rime’s furry body while keeping her right palm securely atop his folded wings. “Where is the physician? An ordinary priest is ill-prepared to solve the mysteries of the flesh. Your expertise lies within the realm of the spirit.”

“Ah. But you see, this illness is both spirit and flesh, yet neither—all at once. And I,” his attention flitted to the bat and back again, “am not your ordinary priest.”

His words held a cautionary note, reminding Lynora of the danger she was putting herself—the entire Sisterhood—in by being here. From the window behind him, she could see the rains had slowed. She began to gather up Rime, halting abruptly when a child’s piercing cry from upstairs shattered her eardrums. Like a chain reaction, several other screams broke loose along with a rush of slamming doors.

Rime’s head shot out from beneath her hand and her host’s complexion drained deathly white. The next few minutes swam in chaos. Father Lucien scrambled for his cane and took the stairs two at a time, making up for his lack of grace with gritty determination. Cradling her shivering bat, Lynora followed.

Miss Plum nearly bowled them over when they reached the upper floor. Her lips writhed like a gasping fish. “It’s happen’ again, Father.” She indicated a cross from her forehead, shoulder to shoulder, then her chest, before kissing her crucifix. “I-I was puttin’ the younger snips down for their naps. Then, one began to levitate. Had t’hold her to the mattress. Next came the markin’s on her skin . . . Oh, sainted spirits!” 

Father Lucien clasped her hands to calm her. “The other children?” 

“Shut up in the rooms, afeared to come out. Tis little Amelia . . . the furthest door down the hall. She’s restin’ now. Poor lil tot. Just gettin’ over a cold, and now this. Oh, Father, I don’ want to send another child off to London. . .”

“First we send for the physician. We’ll notify the bishop only if we must.” Father Lucien limped toward the one door ajar in the dark hallway. Faint yellowish light streamed from the room. Without looking up, the housekeeper bustled around Lynora and descended the stairs, her shoes pounding a staccato rhythm.

Lynora hesitated, wondering which room was Isaac’s—terrified he might see her. Taking the maid’s word, that the children wouldn’t come out, she hurried to catch the priest. Father Lucien paused at the partially opened room and glanced over his shoulders as she caught up to him in the gloomy corridor.

“I hope you’re as inured to strangeness as you appear to be,” he murmured. “Few people can witness such an event as this, without trading their dreams for night-terrors.” He tugged a crucifix from beneath his collar and stepped within.

 About A.G. Howard:

International and NYT best-selling author Anita Grace Howard lives in the Texas panhandle. She is most at home weaving the melancholy and macabre into settings and scenes, twisting the expected into the unexpected. She’s inspired by all things flawed, utilizing the complex loveliness of human conditions and raw emotions to give her characters life, then turning their world upside down so the reader’s blood will race.

Married and mother of two grown children (as well as surrogate mom to two Guinea pigs and two sweet cats), Anita divides her days between spending time with her family and plodding along or plotting on her next book.

When she’s not writing, Anita enjoys rollerblading, biking, snow skiing, gardening, and family vacations that at any given time might include an impromptu side trip to an 18th century graveyard or a condemned schoolhouse for photo ops.

Website | Twitter | Instagram | Facebook | Tumblr | Pinterest | Goodreads | Amazon | BookBub

 Giveaway Details:


All tour prizes US Only:

1-Signed special edition PB with blood sprayed edges

1-8X11 Gothic art print

1-Vampire cookbook

1-Albino bat plushie

1-Fang bookmark

1-Vampire-lips mug

6 separate winners!


a Rafflecopter giveaway

Tuesday, January 15, 2019

Release Day Blitz: THE LEOPARD WHO CLAIMED A WOLF by Sarah Mäkelä with Giveaway


I am so excited that THE LEOPARD WHO CLAIMED A WOLF by Sarah Mäkelä is available now and that I get to share the news!

If you haven’t yet heard about this wonderful book by Author Sarah Mäkelä, be sure to check out all the details below.

This blitz also includes a giveaway for a $5 Amazon Gift Card and 2 eBooks, International, courtesy of Sarah and Rockstar Book Tours. So if you’d like a chance to win, enter in the Rafflecopter at the bottom of this post.

Mandatory post info:
About the Book:

Author: Sarah Mäkelä
Pub. Date: January 15, 2019
Publisher: Kissa Press LLC
Formats: Paperback, eBook
Pages: 179

Find it: Goodreads, Amazon, B&N, iBooks, Kobo, Google Play Books

When a wolf loves a leopard…

He’s her protector...
Caitlyn Fraser, a wereleopard who has always hated cruel werewolves, is the former prisoner turned mate of Dougal Sterling, Alpha of the Scottish pack. She’s courting jeopardy with her determination to attend the funeral of her brother’s father, since the Pack blames her for Alistair’s death. But still Dougal protects her from his wolves.

Her defender...

Short of allies, Dougal struggles to balance loyalty and attention between the Pack and Caitlyn. When the Pack’s stability crumbles, he’s faced with the return of his older brother, the rightful Alpha, who shirked his duty after their father’s death. However, Ewan’s challenge will be a battle to the death. Sheltering Caitlyn can only lose Dougal more friends, but he knows she’s the mate he’s longed for.

But survival takes two...
 
Menace lurks in every corner of the Highlands; Alistair and Ewan’s supporters and haters of shapeshifters abound. Caitlyn and Dougal must stick together, pushing back fiercely when they are attacked. Even if that puts them in mortal danger…
 
Excerpt:
 
Chapter One

Caitlyn
The driveway leading up to the Scottish Pack’s massive headquarters stretched almost half a mile. I rested my chin on my arms and stared out of the Alpha’s window on the second story, overlooking the circular section of the drive. The Pack’s castle came complete with its very own dungeon, but at least they weren’t keeping me in there anymore. The memory of Alistair’s craggy face haunted my dreams each time I closed my eyes. His brutal fists hammered away against my face, ribs, and stomach, until I could no longer sleep.

Tension radiated through my shoulders, and I balled my hands into fists. No, Alistair—Colin’s father—was dead. Dougal had protected me, and my brother, from that monster when I didn’t have the strength to fight back.

Not that it mattered.

Two days had passed since my brother’s sudden departure. Now Colin was on his own with no one to watch his back. How could he leave without saying anything to me? I flexed my fists again, welcoming the anger as it bubbled up in my chest and replaced my sadness.

The heavy weight of a man’s hand descended on my back. I twisted around, my knuckles connecting with a solid jaw lined with dark, coarse stubble. A familiar jaw. Shite.

Dougal stumbled back half a step, but then he planted his feet like a tree with strong roots, not budging any further. Sharp power flared outward from him before he squelched it, stretching the muscles in his jaw. A frown tugged at his lips, and the corners of his eyes creased, either in pain or displeasure.

“Dougal! I’m so sorry.” The sudden movement of punching him had shot a searing ache through my battered ribs again. The pain stole my breath away, but I tried to force it down. How could I have been so careless? If he’d been anyone else in the Pack, I would’ve caused World War III.

“Dinnae fash. The punch bloody well hurt, though. I didn’t realize you were so strong.” Dougal’s frown melted away as he pulled me closer and pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Seems like you’re recovering your strength.” His gaze drifted past me to the long gravel driveway of the estate. “How are you doing, love?”

The emotions I’d been stomping down now bubbled to the surface again. “I cannae believe Colin left me. He left before I even regained consciousness. How could he?”
With anyone else, I wouldn’t show weakness, but I rested my forehead against Dougal’s chest, needing his touch and savoring his warmth. “I barely had time to talk with him, and when I did, it wasn’t a good time to ask how he was doing after the months he’d spent in that bloody research facility—or even to ask where he would go to heal…”

Tears welled in my eyes, but I held them back, refusing to cry. “I gave up so much—my job, my flat, my life—while trying to track him and bring him home. What if my sacrifices were all for naught?”

“Nae, they weren’t for naught, love.” Dougal kissed the top of my head. “I know you’re hurting. You have plenty of reasons to be, but the man who came back wasn’t the same one who left for the United States.” He lifted my chin, forcing me to see the sincerity in his clear blue eyes. “Whatever those scientists did affected him in ways neither of us will probably ever know. Waiting at the window won’t make him return any sooner.” He wrapped his arms around me and gently pulled me against his chest again. “Let me draw you a bath. Remember, I’m here if you need to talk.”

He was right, even if I didn’t want to admit it. Waiting for Colin’s return wouldn’t help, but what else could I do? “I know, but that doesn’t make this any easier for me. He’s my younger brother. I feel helpless that I cannae be there for him…again.” A heavy ache settled on my heart, and I pulled away hating the awkward emotions crushing me.

“Sorry.”

Dougal turned away from me and stared out of the window again. His jaw clenched and unclenched, as if he were trying hard to hold in his words. A lot was going on in his life too, and yet he was making a strong effort to support me through my problems. Things had become increasingly strained between him and his Pack since my arrival and Duncan and Alistair’s subsequent deaths. He didn’t talk about what he faced, and I didn’t want to pressure him.

After a few moments of silence, he released a sigh and turned back toward me. “You’ve done what you could for him, lass.” The ghost of a grin spread across his lips. “Do you still want the bath?”

I couldn’t help but nod. When I’d awakened from unconsciousness, Dougal had been there for me. We’d made love, and he brought me to new heights of pleasure. We also became intimately acquainted with the fancy Jacuzzi bathtub that could easily fit three or four humans…or one big, scary werewolf. The perks of being mated to the Alpha of the Scottish Pack.

“Aye, a bath sounds delish.” I wrapped my arms around his waist, bringing him back to me and drawing in his musky lupine scent. “Thanks for the talk. I wish I could’ve spoken with him before he took off. It would’ve made me feel better about him going.”

“Love, I talked with him.” He trailed his fingertips over my back in light, soothing strokes. “If I weren’t confident that he presented no danger to others, I wouldn’t have let him go. He would’ve stayed here whether he favored the idea or not.” The muscles in his lower back tensed beneath my touch, and his hand paused over my spine.

Something didn’t feel right. I lifted my gaze to meet Dougal’s. Was he not telling me something? We hadn’t known each other for long, but my sharp, feline instincts knew when someone spoke an untruth. He wasn’t outright lying, but he was holding something back. What could it be?

I bit my lower lip, regretting it as my teeth sank into one of the nearly healed spots where Alistair had punched me in the face. Instead of confronting Dougal, I turned my attention toward the window. “You would tell me if he was dangerous to himself, wouldn’t you?”

“Aye, I would.” His tone of voice wasn’t as convincing as I’d wanted. He leaned away, putting me at arm’s length. “Enough of that, I suppose. I’ll draw the bath for you.”
Without another word, he strode to the en-suite bathroom. His hands clenched and unclenched at his sides all the way. The door snapped shut behind him, and he started the water running a few moments later.

Nausea churned inside me, and I held my stomach. Should I believe Dougal? Something about his words didn’t feel right. The Jacuzzi tub would take a few minutes to fill, and I needed to get out of this bloody bedroom and away from him. The strain of standing there and trying to keep myself calm was becoming too much.

My stomach growled, and I glanced up at the round wrought-iron clock on the wall. It was almost one o’clock in the afternoon.

Many of the werewolves didn’t like that their Alpha was mating with a wereleopard, so I usually skipped the mealtime rushes to keep my distance. It wasn’t easy, because several of the wolves lived here in this honest-to-God castle full time. Apparently, that was how many Packs operated. The thought boggled my mind. How did they stand to be around one another all the time? How would I survive being the sole feline in this house full of wolves?

Every urge for solitude within me roared to run as fast and as far away from this place as I could. Too much held me here, though. Besides, if Colin returned from his trip, I wanted to be around to greet him. Maybe throttle him, too, but it’d be a greeting nonetheless…

I slid my leather jacket on over the white tank top, not wanting to reveal too much bruised skin, then headed for the kitchen to grab leftovers. Dougal had tried to convince me to eat with him and everyone else. He wanted me to get to know the wolves and socialize. Getting friendly with the Pack might be a nice idea, but I couldn’t do it. Not with how his Pack watched me when they thought I wasn’t looking. Even Dougal’s second-in-command wasn’t a fan of mine. The sentiment was mutual. For as long as I could remember, I’d hated werewolves. One of my main reasons would soon rest six feet underground. Their hatred of me for Alistair’s death just added to my reluctance to get friendly with them.

Shaking away those thoughts, I turned the corner to enter the kitchen. If my sharp feline reflexes hadn’t kicked in, I would’ve run straight into a towering werewolf. I leapt back at the last minute to prevent Kerr from spilling his plate of food. The already agonizing ache in my side intensified from moving so fast, but I kept my arms at my sides and my face neutral.

“Afternoon, lass. Ye look like yer recoverin’ well.” Kerr nodded, looking curiously at me.

“Thanks, Kerr. I’m trying.” I flashed him an uncomfortable smile, then edged past the broad, barrel-chested man into the kitchen. Maybe he wasn’t as bad as the others, but I couldn’t shake the overwhelming feeling that he disagreed with Dougal’s decision to mate with me.

Kerr placed a heavy hand on my shoulder. My spine stiffened, and I gripped the sleeves of my jacket to keep from swinging on him too. “Keep tryin’, then.” His deep voice rumbled through the kitchen. I glanced pointedly at his hand, but he didn’t move it.
 
“Sooner or later ye need to overcome yer fear, hatred, or whatever it is ye feel toward my kind. If ye cannae, ye won’t last long here, lass.” With that, he walked down the corridor toward the massive grand hall where the wolves held their meetings and ate.

My shoulders slumped. Suddenly, I didn’t feel so hungry, but my leopard still needed to eat. We couldn’t skip any more meals. It hindered our healing process and weakened us too much. Right now, I couldn’t afford weakness, not while I was amongst a pack of wolves.

If only I weren’t continually looking over my shoulder with the Pack, but such was life for now.

Shite. I didn’t have much time before Dougal noticed I’d left the bedroom.

The leftovers were neatly arranged on the clean countertop. There wasn’t much food left, but I grabbed a bag of crisps and one of the last club sandwiches. A female wolf—Mairi, I think—ran a catering company, so she always brought by food to keep the Pack well fed. She was one of the nicer wolves.

Instead of following Kerr toward the dining room, where I would probably find the rowdy werewolves laughing and talking, I remained in the kitchen. I sat on the counter farthest away from the entrance, hidden from anyone who might walk past.

As I finished my sandwich, footsteps in the hall became louder as someone approached the kitchen. The sound of soft sniffing tensed every muscle in my body, then Dougal stepped into the room. His gaze slid over me, and desire darkened his eyes.

“Your bath is ready. If I’d known you were hungry, I would’ve brought something earlier when I ate.”

I shrugged a shoulder. “It’s all right. I’m eating now.”

“Aye, so you are.” He looked down the hallway as if checking to make sure no one else was near. When he turned back, he wore a frown that creased the corners of his lips and eyes. “You shouldn’t be in here all alone, love. Things within the Pack are tense right now. Let’s go back to the bedroom.”

I tilted my chin up, not in the mood to be bossed around again. “I’m not alone. You’re here.” I opened the bag of crisps and munched on one.

His nostrils flared, and he crossed his arms over his broad chest. The move might’ve been scary as hell if it wasn’t him doing it. “That’s not the point. Come on.”

Bloody hell.

First, I’d been his prisoner in the cage, and now I’d become a prisoner in his bedroom. Not in a fun way, either. Why was this happening?

I clenched my fists, crushing a few of my crisps as tears burned in my eyes, but I refused to let them show. The flood of emotions I’d experienced over the past week was becoming too much to all push down at once. As soon as I dealt with certain fears or emotions, others popped up to take their place, like some horrible version of whack-a-mole.

Life just wasn’t fair. All I’d wanted to do was return to Scotland and be here for my brother. In that time, I’d been reintroduced to a childhood nightmare, imprisoned in a dungeon, and now I was the prisoner/mate of a werewolf Alpha. When would the roller coaster end?

Dougal crossed the space between us in a few long strides. He pulled me from the counter into his arms.

A feline hiss ripped from my throat, sounding every bit as feral as I felt. Once again, anger rescued me from my moodiness. “Set me down this minute!”

About Sarah:

New York Times Bestselling Author, Sarah Mäkelä, has received her Bachelor’s degree in Creative Writing. She has been inspired to read and write since reading a collection of her mother’s poetry as a child. Her real passion for writing began after receiving an Excellence in Writing award for a children’s story her seventh-grade English teacher encouraged her to enter for a school contest. Her love of romance novels became evident after picking up her first Harlequin, Chateau of Flowers by Margaret Rome, shortly thereafter.

She lives in North Carolina with her husband and cats. In her spare time, she enjoys reading, computer and console games, and traveling all over the world. She is a member of Romance Writers of America, as well as the Heart of Carolina Romance Writers and the Fantasy, Futuristic, and Paranormal chapters.



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