Wednesday, May 20, 2015

Twisted Fairytale Confessions

So, I had a lovely blog post scheduled using the multitude of information put together by the author and apparently all my work disappeared straight down a rabbit hole! Not a single word or image has survived despite my best efforts at resuscitation, I'll blame my recent switch from Mac to Windows, and to avoid the White Rabbit being even more late I've decided to put up a brief promo style post about the Twisted Fairytale Confession set in hopes that you can see the imagination, creativity, and fun for yourself, with my sincerest apologies to the author for jacking up this portion of the blog tour. These are highly recommended NA/YA fantasies with strong characters, inventive storytelling, and a fair amount of kickass behavior! The imagery alone is worth the double take and I rather enjoy the sass treatment each retelling gets from the very talented Sarah J. Pepper. ~Anna

"Evil poisons everyone. Period. Our mouths water when we sink our teeth into what we have always craved. Surrendering to our desires by biting off a delectable piece of the forbidden fruit is nothing more than a meager confession: Poison tastes sinfully sweet,"-Confessions of teh Big Apple Debutante, by blogger Miss Snow White. Genre: NA fantasy romance

Rapunzel isn't the stereotypical Damsel in Distress. Her Bad-Boy Prince Charming is a renowned mercenary, and their Happy Ending plays out like a bad movie. However, she is determined to breakout from her tower prison- love be damned-and do it in a fabulous pair of heels. Genre: NA romance fantasy
Falling in love with Alice Mae was like stumbling down a rabbit hole and seeing a magical world. Whereas, her betrayal was like tripping on a guillotine.
Heads will roll, and hearts will break, so does it really matters who reigns? Genre: YA fantasy romance

Be sure to stop by the Sarah J.Pepper Facebook page to enter the Rafflecopter giveaway! Click here.

All sorts of magical reading goodness can be found by visiting Sarah's author site too!

Friday, May 15, 2015

Dinner at Deviant's Palace

DINNER AT DEVIANT'S PALACE (1985), by Tim Powers, is even weirder than his epic historical novel THE STRESS OF HER REGARD (and considering the silicon-based vampire species in that novel, that's saying something). He sets DINNER... in a post-apocalyptic Los Angeles, a generation after nuclear bombs devastated civilization. It comes across as a dark, dangerous place, with futuristic slang to set the tone. As the main medium of exchange, the economy bases its currency on a type of high-proof brandy. Poisonous levels of radiation linger in some areas. Mutants, marauders, and "trashmen" (makeshift cyborgs assembled from miscellaneous scraps) prowl the blasted wastelands. Deranged women called "pocalocas" dance in the streets of the city. The action centers around a private club, Deviant's Palace, notorious for drugs and perversions, and a mysterious cult run by a man named Norton Jaybush. Middle-aged, hard-boiled musician Greg Rivas, a retired "redemption" agent, gets hired by the wealthy father of his first girlfriend, Urania, to rescue her from Jaybush and his "Jaybirds." As for vampirism, the novel includes energy draining, a reddish-brown powdered drug called Blood (derived from guess what), and translucent, floating, bloodsucking monsters something like balloons or jellyfish, called "hemogoblins," which take on vaguely human shape when fully fed.

In search of Urania, Rivas tries to go undercover in Jaybush's cult. He's sidetracked by several harrowing encounters but finally makes his way to the Holy City. Fortunately, he knows ways to accept the "sacrament," a literally electrifying touch that engenders an experience labeled "merging with the Lord," without suffering its full effects. Some worshipers who endure this process too many times become the "far-gone," their individuality irretrievably lost. Subjected to an accidental overdose of Blood at one point, Rivas links with the mind of a far-gone and gets flooded by the memories of Jaybush himself. Rivas ultimately discovers the connections among Deviant's Palace, the cult, and Blood and learns the origin and nature of hemogoblins and the truth about Jaybush. It's not too much of a spoiler to reveal that the "Lord," despite his outward appearance, isn't remotely human; he's one of the most repellent alien vampires I've ever encountered. At the climactic dinner with Jaybush and Urania, Rivas manages to render the villain powerless without being able to destroy him. Rivas succeeds in his quest but doesn't win a happy ending for himself. Instead, he takes on a lifelong burden.

DINNER AT DEVIANT'S PALACE has one drawback as an SF horror novel. In its surrealistic future California, where everything is strange and threats lurk almost everywhere, it's hard to tell we should accept as "normal" for the setting and what's paranormal. Everything is scary—and as madly creative as you'd expect from Tim Powers.

Margaret L. Carter

Carter's Crypt

Monday, May 11, 2015

Bewitching Book Tour: Town From Hell

Town from Hell
Dagger and Brimstone
Book One
T.W. Kirchner

Genre: Young Adult Paranormal/Horror

Publisher: Short on Time Books

Date of Publication: April 19, 2015

ISBN: 1508982635
ASIN: B00V0R61H8

Number of pages: 274
Word Count: 76,636

Cover Artist: Tony Bryson

Book Description:

Seventeen-year-old Racer and his girlfriend Arloe want to be together despite resistance from her parents. In defiance of an upcoming separation, they run away for the summer, going totally off the grid to a remote town in the Nevada desert.

The teens think no one knows where they are—but they couldn’t be more wrong. Racer’s well-orchestrated plan for freedom turns into a nightmare from hell.

Lies, deception and betrayal blur his lines of reality, and he discovers everyone in town is hiding a terrifying secret, including Arloe.

Available at Amazon

The town appeared as a dot over the hill.  Five miles max.  Anticipation overtook my shaky nerves.  We passed several road signs that promoted ‘going green’ and ‘recycling.’  Another sign boasted Winthrop’s claim to fame: Home of the World Famous Green Links Heath Food line. 
     An ancient gray truck with Nevada plates lumbered up the road.  We passed it on the left side like it was standing still.  The old dude driving the clunker stared at me through the open window, a cigarette clenched in his yellowed teeth.  Just as much smoke billowed from the cab as sputtered from the exhaust.  I wondered how the truck made it that far from town…or the old dude for that matter.  Neither he nor his truck modeled ‘going green’ with all the pollution they created.  
     Any other time, I’d have ignored his stare, but it made me uneasy, more so after the gut-wrenching incident moments before.  I reassured myself it didn’t mean anything—no different than all the other stares I’d received though my seventeen years. 
     I pulled off the highway into a run-down gas station on the edge of town, a half mile past the faded wooden ‘Welcome to Winthrop’ sign that likely would topple over in the next stiff breeze.  It didn’t surprise me when Arloe hopped off my bike and flew around the side of the mini-mart toward the ladies’ room.  She didn’t even wait to take off her helmet.  Her urgency made me laugh because I’d always kidded she had the bladder of an ant.  What amazed me was that she hadn’t asked to stop at all in three hours on the road.  For her sake, I hoped the bathroom didn’t require a key. 
     The midday sun blazed hot, yet the intense heat didn’t seem to affect the flies swarming around the overflowing garbage can placed between the two retro pumps.  As I stood up, my butt peeled in layers from the leather seat.  My jeans and boxers fused to my legs from sweat.  I’d never traveled that long a distance on my bike before without stopping, and my aching legs paid the price. 
     Even after I took off my sweltering black helmet and hung it on the handlebar of my once black, now gray-looking bike, the slight breeze didn’t give me any relief.  In fact, it was worse.  The breeze simulated a blow drier set on hot, pointed at my face. 
     A few stray flies abandoned the trash and went on the attack, buzzing around my sweaty head and biting my arms.  I hoped the attraction didn’t indicate I smelled worse than the trash.  One black fly landed on my right bicep inside of my new dagger tattoo.  My hand nicked the annoying pest, but it had already bitten me and buzzed away.  The skin around the tattoo immediately tingled and itched.  Damn.  I ran my hand across my hair.  It was sticky and wet because I sweated faster than the air could dry it.
     As I staggered toward the door to pay for a fill-up, I tried to stretch the stiffness out of my legs while I pulled areas of my soaked jeans away from my skin.  Halfway across the parking lot, the heat from the asphalt felt like it had eaten through the soles of my boots.  It wouldn’t have surprised me if they melted like crayons into a waxy puddle.
     The desert excursion proved interesting at best, so far.  My dark blue jeans had lightened by two shades of dust, my white T-shirt had darkened by two shades of dust, and sandy grit crunched between my teeth even though the helmet’s face shield had been down the whole time. 
     When I pulled open the glass door of the mini-mart, a rusted cowbell clanked across it.  The metal made an ear-splitting slap, and I expected the murky glass to shatter or at least crack, but it didn’t.  I slinked through the door thinking I’d attracted unwanted attention, but the place was almost empty.  The top of the attendant’s head showed behind the counter, but my presence went unacknowledged.  What did I expect in a town of fifty residents that boasted a twenty-foot rattlesnake fashioned from beer bottles as the main attraction?  I ducked into the first aisle.  The half-stocked shelves carried very few of the usual mini-mart snacks but a lot of the Green Links Health Food products.  A half-filled refrigerated section stretched across the back wall. 
     I walked up the second aisle before approaching the faded, red counter, covered almost entirely by paper ads and signs.  The middle-aged attendant relaxed on a wooden barstool with her feet resting on a two-foot stack of magazines piled on the floor.  She slumped over to browse through a magazine spread out on her lap.  The tabletop, portable fan behind the counter blew her frizzy hair all around.  It made an annoying click each time its blades completed a rotation. 
     The attendant ran her knobby pointer finger along the page while she read.  She must have reached the end of the article because she looked up and pushed her wire-framed, granny glasses down on the bridge of her pointy nose.  “Kin I helps ya?”
     This time, I stared.  Her dental work looked like she’d tried to stop a bowling ball with her face.  She lacked every other tooth, and the remaining few resembled gray and yellowish nubs.  She only needed a wart on her chin and a long black dress.  The broom already leaned up against the wall behind her.
     I placed a twenty on the counter.  “Yeah, I need a fill-up.”
     The attendant slid off the barstool and set the magazine down.  The legs on both her and the stool creaked and wiggled.  She tugged at the bottom of her black, oversized tee and pulled up her baggy jeans.  They hung pathetically off her emaciated frame and were frayed at the bottom where they dragged the floor.  She picked up the money, sniffled loudly, and wiped her nose on the back of her vein-popping hand.  “Which pump?”
     I gazed out the huge, front window.  The station only had two pumps, and my bike was the only vehicle around for at least a mile.  I bit my lip and choked back the smartass comment that popped into my mind.  “Pump two, please.”
     Witch Hazel pushed a gold button on the ancient cash register and the drawer barely slid open.  With the swiftness and grace of a baboon wearing a baseball glove, she placed my twenty in the drawer.  I tried to figure out how that register could possibly be connected to the pump when she enlightened me.  “Go on and pump.  Lemme know how much it comes to, and I’ll give ya your change back.”  She slammed the drawer closed.  She looked me up and down.  “You ain’t from around here, are you?”
     I wiped my forehead on the sleeve of my T-shirt, exchanging a layer of sweat for sand.  “No, how’d you guess?”
     She pointed from the cubic stud in my nose, to the gold ring through my eyebrow, and at the three tattoos on my right arm.
     I shrugged.
     She smacked her cracking lips and turned away, only to pick up the magazine and plop back on the creaky barstool.
    I’d already forgotten about the cowbell, and it smashed into the glass again when the door closed behind me.  As I headed over to my bike, Arloe came from around the corner, swinging her helmet back and forth by the chin strap.  She smiled like she’d won the lottery.
     I pushed the nozzle into the gas tank and flipped the lever, unable to hold back my grin.  “Feel better?”
     Arloe hung the bright purple helmet I’d given her on the bike’s handle and snuggled up against me.  She smelled sweet from the freshly-applied cherry lip gloss.  When she smiled, her eyes sparkled as much as her pink, shiny lips.  “Lots.”  Arloe ran her hands through my damp hair to spike it up and took a step back to admire her handiwork.  “But now I’m thirsty.  Can we get something to drink?”
      She had me so totally captivated that when the pump clicked off, I jerked.  Arloe smirked, but I pretended not to notice and replaced the nozzle.  “Sure.  Witch Hazel will hook us up inside.”
     She stared at me with her eyebrows lowered and shoved her hands in the back pockets of her acid-washed, body-hugging jeans.  “Who?”
     I shrugged.  “Never mind.  Bad joke.” 
     She gently slapped my hand.  “Racer, stop.” 
     Without realizing I’d done it, my stubby fingernails had scratched the area around my dagger tat to a bright red.  I shoved my hand in my pocket. 
     While she examined my bicep, she grimaced.  Her smooth fingers glided along my skin, but her voice had lost its sexy edge.  “Racer Roane.  You should’ve gone back to the tattoo shop.  It’s been two weeks and you’re still messin’ with it.”  She leaned back and stared into my eyes.  “Maybe it’s infected…or the ink was bad.”
     The first two tattoos never bothered me like that one had, and it did concern me.  I just didn’t want Arloe to know it.  Besides, I couldn’t do anything about it now anyway.
     Arloe pulled her silky hair back into a ponytail and swatted at a fly that attacked her face.
     I shooed the fly away and pushed a few stray strands of hair from her eyes.  “Just think, you could be in Spain taking classes right now, but you gave up the opportunity for all this.”
     She surveyed the empty desert and turned back to me, holding my calloused hands in her delicate ones.  Her eyes showed determination and a spark of renewed energy.  “No, I gave it up for you.  For us.  We’ll see Spain one day.  Together.”

 About the Author:

T.W. Kirchner is the author of the Pirates Off middle grade series and The Troubled Souls of Goldie Rich young adult series. Besides writing, she loves tennis, yoga, painting and gardening.  She lives in Las Vegas with her husband, two children, and furry menagerie known as the Kirchner Zoo.

Twitter: @TinaInLV

Check out the Tour giveaway for a $10 Amazon Gift Card:

Monday, May 4, 2015

The force is strong today...

Who doesn't love Star Wars? When I was about 3 years old there was a phase when I would only answer to the name Princess Leia and my outfit of the day was a flowing white shirt belonging to my grandmother with one of her belts around my waist. On the really good days she would even do my hair in the classic Leia side buns. Later, I switched to the action figures, dolls, and even some Underoos (which are making a strong comeback), and no matter my age I remain a Star Wars nerd to this day.

For more details about this unofficial holiday, visit the Star Wars website:

Monday, April 27, 2015

Finishing a deadline, reading for fun, and J.R. Ward

My April reading for RT included some fantastic titles and I cannot wait to share my reviews with you once the July issue of RT Book Reviews magazine comes out! It's something new that I thought I'd add to the blog since my review reading will be done primarily for the magazine from now on and I can only read so many books in a given month. I'll still review the occasional book that's sent my way, but not nearly as often as I used to.

So here's what I was reading this month (no ratings since they haven't been published yet):

Falling For Her Husband
A Matter of Sin
Escaping Reality- Lisa Renee Jones (Yes, it was as amazing as I had hoped!)
The Silenced- Heather Graham (I love the Krewe of Hunters!)
Knight on Ocean Lane
The Wrong Hero

Plus, my monthly Harlequin Desire series, which featured some excellent choices this month:

The Billionaire's Daddy Test
Seduced by the Spare Heir
Pregnant by the Cowboy CEO
Lone Star Baby Bombshell
Claiming His Secret Son
A Royal Amnesia Scandal

I highly recommend that you give these titles a try, and if you haven't already...get a subscription to RT or stop by the website. Hands down the best way to keep track of what's new in the world of romance.

Since I was able to finish my deadline early I picked up a few books off my TBR pile. Yay! The first book was The Shadows by J.R. Ward and let's just say that it had been awhile since a booked completely wrecked me so I must have been long overdue. At times, I wasn't even aware I was crying until giant tears hit the page, and at other points I just sobbed like my heart was being ripped away. Only Ward can create characters that are so truly alive with a vividness that makes their heartache and pain feel just as real as their love. The BDB are forces unto themselves and each person in her world has a history with so much depth that a reader can't help feeling connected somehow. Every emotion feels so very real and picking up one of her books guarantees you the best kind of reading roller coaster ride, complete with the sexiest alpha men surrounded by the brightest strong women, plenty of ass kicking action, and the sweetest demonstrations of love and family. Nothing is ever easy and it's impossible to predict exactly what will happen in each book...I love every single minute!

Next up on my reading list is The Liar by Nora Roberts, my beloved go-to author when I want a beautiful romance that will leave me feeling refreshed and smiling when I'm done.

After those I plan on Beauty's Kingsdom by Anne Rice, a sentimental choice since once upon a time Flyboy bought me the original trilogy (long before erotica and retelling fairy tales became popular) and I'm curious to see if Rice can recapture the magic and allure after all these years.

What are you reading?

Thursday, April 23, 2015

It's all about the books

One of these days I'm gonna get to one of these conventions, especially since I've been reviewing for them for a couple of years now, and the more I hear the more jelly I get about missing out. Not flattering, but true all the same. So many books and authors all in one place! It's almost too much to hope for!

My other drawback to attending, besides trying to leave town during the school year, is that I am incredibly shy around strangers which makes talking to authors an awkward experience all around. Seriously, it's quite an overwhelming idea for me which is probably why I blog and review, if you think about it. I get to talk with people about books without managing the crowded rooms that come with book signings and conventions. I would just hate to embarrass myself by going all fangirl or not knowing what to say. Anyways...I'll get over it because I really, really want to go!

The 2015 Convention is only a few weeks away and I would love to hear from anyone that plans on attending. Feel free to share your expert tips or talk about the authors you're most looking forward to.

All the deets can be found here.

Wednesday, April 22, 2015

It's Our Turn to Lead

I'm lucky enough to live in a state that gets plenty of sunshine, yet I'm always surprised at how long it took for the solar movement to take hold, and at how hard electric companies work to convince consumers to stay firmly attached to the grid. More baffling are the folks that water sidewalks and run faucets when we are living in a desert that faces horrible drought conditions. Politics aside, caring for planet earth is our responsibility and I hope you'll take a moment to learn more about how easy it is to get involved and make one small change towards saving the planet.

Here's an interesting article from my local paper about the relationship between the rise in population and the many endangered species on our planet, and the creative way they've chosen to get that message out on college campuses. Hint: involves sustainable condoms.

For more information about how you can get involved or to find events in your local area, click here.

Wednesday, April 15, 2015

A Terrible Beauty

In A TERRIBLE BEAUTY (1996), Canadian vampire author Nancy Baker adapts "Beauty and the Beast" with the sexes reversed in a modern setting, the wilds of Canada. A dying professor, Simon Donovan, gets a letter from Sidonie Moreau, a woman from his past whom he hasn't seen in decades. She wants restitution for the wrong he did to her. Simon confesses to his sons that Sidonie had served as his research assistant on a project involving esoteric documents. They had shared a brief love affair, while she did most of the work in unraveling the scholarly puzzle that had baffled him. Then she had mysteriously vanished from the university, with no record of ever being enrolled. Simon published the work without giving her credit, and now she demands that he visit her to deliver some unspecified compensation.

Simon's youngest son, Matthew, a penniless artist, makes the journey in his father's place, just as Beauty in the fairy tale offers herself to the Beast to save her father. Matthew travels to the distant northern forest, where Sidonie Moreau lives on an isolated island. There he meets a young woman who claims to be the daughter of his father's old lover. She dwells in a huge mansion with many locked doors and no mirrors. Inhabitants of the nearest village, two of whom work for her, avoid answering his questions. Soon enough, of course, his hostess reveals herself as the original Sidonie—a vampire. Two thousand years old, she is the only surviving native speaker of the language she helped his father translate. In payment for his father's betrayal, she requires Matthew to stay with her until she chooses to let him leave.

Each night, she will ask him the same question: Will he give her his blood, even though the donation might kill him? He wonders, since she can feed on the blood of animals, why does she need his? Eventually scenes from her viewpoint reveal to the reader (but not to Matthew) that she cherishes a secret belief about the benefits of blood freely offered, not taken by force or seduction.

Although a figure of allure and pathos, Sidonie also projects an aura of danger. She has killed human victims in the past, and she doesn't let Matthew forget what she could do to him and his family if he defied her (though at first her threats focus more on disgrace and ruin than physical violence). Once she allows him to see her true self instead of the human mask, her beauty has an alien quality he can't ignore. After futile attempts to find her daytime resting place or to escape, he resigns himself to remaining her prisoner until his death. When a small group of other vampires comes to visit with their mortal slaves, Sidonie appears benign in contrast. Little by little, as she and Matthew learn about each other's lives, his fear, revulsion, and hostility transform into friendship. He spends his free hours painting, his creativity flourishing under her influence. When he gets a letter announcing his father's imminent death, the tale plays out as we'd expect from the "Beauty and the Beast" parallel, yet with a surprise or two.

This enchanting story is guaranteed to enthrall fans of either vampire romances or fairy-tale retellings.

Margaret L. Carter

Carter's Crypt

Monday, April 13, 2015

Zombies meet Mad Max

Our friend Angie has reviewed a couple of Wellington's books in the past, so for those of you that enjoyed his work, here is a new title that releases later this month. Of course, since this combines two things that scare me to death, the apocalyptic Mad max environment and a zombie outbreak, I'm going to hold off on reading this until Flyboy can hang around to protect me. But for all you crazies out there... Happy reading! ~Anna

POSITIVE (on sale in hardcover from Harper Voyager April 21, 2015) mixes the explosive action of Mad Max with sweeping storytelling, engaging human characters, and incisive social commentary

Finnegan’s life is nothing special. Living in the ruins of New York City, he spends his days scavenging for food and supplies, respecting but not really understanding the First Generation’s fear of the threat of zombies and longing for their old way of life. As a Second Generation citizen, born after zombies overran the country and then were beaten back, he has only known the world as it is: devastated. But New York hasn’t seen a zombie in years.

Until one day the infection rears its ravenous head and Finn learns in the most horrible way possible he is a carrier for the virus. Marked with a tattoo on his hand identifying him as a “Positive,” he is exiled from the city, sent to a special facility in Ohio for those like him while he waits out the viruses incubation period. If he’s still human in two years, he can return.

But Finn’s escort is attacked before he can even reach them. He is left alone to find his way across an America transformed, populated by heroes, villains, and madmen. And though zombies are everywhere, Finn discovers that the real danger may be his fellow humans.

David Wellington was born in Pittsburgh, PA, where George Romero shot his classic zombie films. The acclaimed author is most famous for his online serialized zombie novels, the “Monster Island” trilogy, then published by Three Rivers. In 2006 he began serializing 13 Bullets. He lives in New York City.

More info:

Thursday, April 9, 2015

The Need to Feed guest post with Robyn Bachar

Some of my favorite sexy reading has been courtesy of Samhain Publishing and Bite Me looks to be another paranormal goodie. How can you go wrong when you've got vampires, demons, and a little bit of kink? You can't! This promises to be one super hot read, and just perfect for thawing out after months of freezing temps. Don't say I didn't warn you! Happy reading, my friends. 

Don't forget to click this rafflecopter link for your chance to win a $25 Amazon gift card. ~Anna

The Need to Feed 

What happens when you cut off a vampire’s food source?

Modern vampires have it easy—plenty of people to feed from in the big city, and they can always get take-out from a blood bank. The urban vampires in my Bad Witch books never have to worry about where they’re getting their next meal, and my evil author brain began pondering ways to change that. I couldn’t end the world in that series (yet), so Bite Me was born.

It sucks to be a vampire during the end of the world. After the zombie apocalypse wiped out most of humanity, vampire Lizzy Addams is faced with a serious food shortage. She never really liked people and preferred to feed from blood bags, but the blood banks are no longer delivering. 

Lizzy needs to find survivors to drink from, or die trying.

Of course it’s not that simple. If someone came up to you and claimed that they were a vampire would you believe them? Would you trust them? Could you put your life in their hands? Lizzy has a long way to go to win over the survivors she rescues, and as an evil author it was my duty to make that journey as hard as possible. Cranky werewolves? Check. Evil vampire brother? 

Yup. Zombies, zombies, and even more zombies? Oh yeah.

Bite Me was a ton of fun to write, and I hope that readers enjoy it. 

Consumed by the need to feed…
After an out-of-control spell triggers the zombie apocalypse, Lizzy Addams is left in the ruins of Chicago with only the slightly unhinged commentary—and endless erotic appetites—of her inner demon for company. Her blood supply dwindling, she is forced to find survivors to feed from, or die trying.
Officer Angela Kinney was on duty when hungry corpses overwhelmed the city. The survivors look to her for leadership, but nothing prepared her for a beautiful monster who offers safety in exchange for blood.
Sean MacMillan never expected to see Lizzy again after she rejected his attempts to lure her back to the vampire fold. But with his flock threatened by the horde and his murderous vampire brother, Lizzy is the only one he can trust to keep them safe.
The veil of secrecy shrouding the supernatural world torn apart, humanity’s only hope is to forge an alliance with vampires, werewolves, and things that go bump in the night. Though accepting their aid could be a devil’s bargain that puts humans at the bottom of the food chain.
**Product Warnings**
Contains vampire orgies, angsty demon sex, a frisky lesbian werewolf, light kink, and enough sex toys to start a store.

Buy the book:

Amazon    BN    iTunes    Kobo   Samhain Publishing

About the author:

Robyn Bachar enjoys writing stories with soul mates, swords, spaceships,vampires, and gratuitous violence against the kitchen sink. Her paranormal romance Bad Witch series, historical paranormal romance series Bad Witch: The Emily Chronicles, and spicy space opera romance trilogy Cy’ren Rising are available from Samhain Publishing. 

Her books have finaled in PRISM Contest for Published Authors, the Passionate Plume Contest, and twice in the EPIC eBook Awards. As a gamer, Robyn has spent many hours rolling dice, playing rock-paper-scissors, and slaying creatures in mmorpgs.

Author info:

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I opened my mouth to ask for a volunteer, and noticed just a fraction too late that a priest’s collar peeked out from under Manuel’s overcoat and that he was eyeing me in an unfriendly manner. 

He spat at me in Latin and pulled a cross that exploded with blinding light. The image seared into my retinas as holy fire hit me full blast.

I’d rescued a damn priest. What a fucking way to die.

My inner demon shrieked, and I hissed like a pissed-off alley cat and bolted. I slammed against the roof ’s edge and toppled over it like a drunk after the bars close, then crashed through the plastic top of a Dumpster in the alley. For a moment I was relieved to be out of the burning, but it was quickly followed by the sudden onset of the what-the-fuck pain of my landing.

The world had ended before garbage day, so I was up to my ass in trash bags that stank like rancid vomit. Mobs descended on my Dumpster in a sea of arms outstretched to grab and devour me. Like sharks in a feeding frenzy, they were programmed to bite first and ask questions later. My pink Chucks had no traction as I tried to climb atop the Dumpster, and I slipped and struggled. Ugh. Death by fashion. I should’ve gone for the Doc Martens.

Mobs weren’t good at ladders, but they could handle climbing short distances, and two toppled over the edge and into the garbage. I tried to kick myself into flight, but my magic fizzled and refused to cooperate. No fuel, no magic. One of the trash zombies’ rotted teeth sank through my jeans and into my leg, and I screamed at the top of my lungs.

I ripped my leg away, losing a chunk of flesh and muscle in the process, and with a rush of pure terror I vaulted out of the garbage and into the alley. When I hit the ground my wounded leg buckled and I collapsed. The dead closed over me like an ocean wave and clawed at my cashmere coat with frostbitten fingers until I wriggled out of it and broke free. I booked it as best I could, ducking and weaving through the crowd.

Despite my fear, I had enough sense left to run down the alley away from the spot the humans had been. I emerged into the street opposite, found it likewise occupied by mobs, and cursed as I headed into the next alley. A metal fire escape clung to the side of the building to my right, and leapt, pulled the ladder down and hustled up it as my wounded leg fought me the whole way. 

When I reached the roof I sighed with relief and lay flat, staring up at the full moon as hunger raged through me like a slavering, rabid dog.

I needed to feed, and the only living humans in Chicago were traveling with a priest with a grudge. I wouldn’t make it home without blood—hell, I wouldn’t make it off this rooftop. In a few hours the sun would rise and I’d be Lizzy Addams flambĂ©.

It sucked to be a vampire at the end of the world.