Tag Team Review: The Parable of the Mustard Seed by Lisa Henry

John Faimu is an Australian-Samoan police officer who deals with hurt kids every day. Caleb Fletcher was the teenager John saved from a cult eight long years ago, and he’s now the young man John wants in ways that neither of them should risk.

Eight years after his rescue, Caleb is still struggling with PTSD and self-harm. John has always been his rock, but now Caleb wants more. Can he convince John to cross a line and love him the way they both crave? And when the monsters from Caleb’s past come back seeking to silence him for good, will John’s love be enough to save him?

averaged rating!

Adam - 4.5 Hearts

Every once in a while I come across a pair of characters that I just know I’m going to be thinking about for a while. Caleb and John are now in that category.

Their love story is a fragile yet hopeful one.These two men go through tragedy and one hurdle after another.

And yet there is never any doubt that John and Caleb are absolutely committed to each other, no matter what happens.

Caleb and John are already in love when the book starts, the years of friendship having progressed to more at some random point. I’m not usually a fan of this setup, as it often means that readers don’t really see the relationship development.

But that definitely wasn’t the case here! Between the flashbacks and the two men taking things step by step, I never felt that I missed any part of their romance.

My heart hurt for Caleb. What he goes through as a boy is shattering, but his inner strength was undeniable. The book pulls no punches. Caleb’s recovery and setbacks are an on-going process. But he does get better, and a big part of that is John.

I loved how absolutely devoted John was, both as a friend and then as a lover. Regardless of what was going on, Caleb always came first. And Caleb reciprocates that, in his own way.

The two have an unwavering bond that bends and morphs, but never breaks. I think that’s what stood out the most for me - just how constant their love for each other was, no matter what form it took throughout the years.

Family also plays a major role in Caleb and John’s relationship. John’s big clan and Caleb’s father are just as much a part of the story as the two main characters. As someone who comes from a very tight-knit family myself, I quite liked the dynamic!

That being said, this isn’t an easy romance, despite the support of family and the love the two men have for each other. It’s acknowledged that there’s no magic solution for Caleb and the psychological scars from what he went through.

However, there is a happy ever after for John and Caleb, and a brilliant one at that! It takes a lot of work, and a reckoning with the past, but they get all the sunshine and joy that they so deserve!

If you’re looking for an angst-heavy yet brilliant love story, I’d highly recommend ‘The Parable of the Mustard Seed’!

R *A Reader Obsessed* - 4 Hearts

Angsty but not torturously so, Henry delivers a heartfelt and hard won love story.

As per the blurb, John and Caleb meet under the worst of circumstances, and though it's been many years later, their connection is stronger than ever. There’s definitely been slow healing with plenty of setbacks, all of which have shaped these two into who they are today. John has always been a solid force, often showing unconditional support for Caleb and his dad Darren, through the many ups and downs they’ve faced together.

However over time, John’s initial concern for the once teenage Caleb has slowly morphed into so much more. It comes as no surprise that his caring feelings have evolved, but John knows he must keep them close to the vest, mainly because he doesn’t think he’s good enough for Caleb but also, should things not work out, the possible repercussions could be devastating.

What John doesn’t know is that despite Caleb’s many many issues, his traumatic past has obviously and inevitably shaped who Caleb feels most safe with and that person of course, is John. Caleb (though we don’t get his point of view) knows he’s forever altered because of the appalling circumstances he was subjected to for over a decade, but that doesn’t mean he can’t or won’t try to make his life something more than fear and nightmares. He wants a chance to move on, he wants John, and he makes himself perfectly clear on such.

This was a thoughtful and what I assume, realistic look at PTSD and anxiety, where there is no easy fix and definitely, no easy answers. At times both frustrating and heartbreaking, beware triggers for religious oppression, physical and emotional abuse, awful parents being unforgivably evil, and murder. It’s understandable that Caleb is scarred, and while he’s made many strides in overcoming brutal conditioning, sometimes even the smallest obstacles can have huge consequences and stall progress, but not all is lost.

More importantly, despite the overwhelming worry and doubts, one has to take a leap of faith. There's a fine line between wanting to shield and protect and also allowing one to attempt some progress despite the possibility of failure. This was emotional but never unnecessarily overdramatic. There are brief flashbacks consistently scattered throughout showing the past and the evolution of John and Caleb, doling out what has transpired over time. Intermix that with the present and the fallout when Caleb’s tormentors are released from prison, and this becomes more than just a romance. There's good guys to root for and bad guys to get their deserved punishment, and Henry delivers.

Overall though, this is a journey about two men who love each other desperately and at long last, bravely try to make it work. Henry accomplishes a difficult win that’s as tenuous as it is strong and leaves the reader with confidence that John and Caleb will undoubtedly triumph. Whatever challenges they‘ll for sure face, they'll do it together with the support of their friends and family. Again, this was touching and intimate and just very sweet in and amongst the maelstrom of apt turmoil. Highly recommended!

Blog Tour: The Qinali Virus by Valerie J. Mikles

The Qinali Virus blog tour visits today! Find out about the queer science fiction from today's hosts, author Valerie J. Mikles and Other Worlds Ink!

The Qinali Virus

Valerie J. Mikles has a new queer sci fi book out: "The Qinali Virus."

Rage. Poverty. Disease.

They’re gone. Every last one.

The cost was great. The population has been devastated. But for the survivors, utopia has arrived.

Then the suspicious death of a young person forces Amber to question her world like she never has before. The Contentedness Council is after her, determined to protect their perfect society. Now Amber must unbury her city’s repressed past, expose the crimes that led to their utopia, and find a way to stop the Council from killing the world… again.

Join astral-projecting asexual Amber and her telepathic sister as they fight to save the human race from extermination!

Get It on Amazon


The Qinali Virus Meme

Jenise gasped. “Don’t do it.”

“Don’t call for help?” Amber asked, setting the tablet aside. “This is an astral injury. Maybe someone back home can help you.”

“No, please,” Jenise whimpered.

Amber felt her body vibrating and heard a ringing in her ears. The world became hazy and she saw her physical body collapsed on the ground. She hadn’t moved, and when she reached to the side, her hands passed through everything. This was how her book had described the astral plane.

“I did it! I’m here,” she squealed. Then she saw Jenise lying on the ground. A needle-like splinter pierced Jenise’s brain, and her aura seemed to ooze from the wound.

“Oh, this… this is bad…” Amber stammered, gathering the oozing essence back toward Jenise. Her hand went right through the glowing ooze and Jenise’s body. “How can I help you if I can’t touch you? What did the book say?”

“She’s coming for me,” Jenise murmured. Her physical form twitched, the red welts spreading as the needle dug deeper into her brain. Amber tried to clamp Jenise’s chin, but Jenise’s body passed through hers, so she grabbed the needle, and suddenly Jenise went still. She saw the needle because Jenise had described the needle. It was a manifestation of an injury; not a physical injury.

“I can manipulate a manifestation,” Amber murmured. Moving gingerly, Amber extracted the needle from her sister’s brain, and Jenise started to scream.

“Do you want me to stop?” Amber asked. Jenise kept screaming, oblivious to the question.

Gritting her teeth, Amber removed more of the needle, and her sister’s essence gushed from the wound. Amber blew gently on the oozing liquid and it seemed to dissolve into her sister’s skin. Once the needle was out, she molded her hands around her sister’s head, trying to close the wound. Her hands kept passing through Jenise’s skull, making her twitch. Amber didn’t like astral surgery, and she hoped she was helping.

“They’re coming,” Jenise murmured, her hands flailing, passing through Amber’s astral body. She felt her form vibrate and a ringing sound filled her ears.

“No. No, I’m not finished!” Amber cried, feeling an anchor pulling her back to her physical form. She curled into a fetal position, fighting to get back to the astral plane.

Jenise rolled onto her side and spooned behind Amber. “We have to run,” she rasped. “Someone’s coming.”

“Who? Is it Parey? Someone from the Council?” Amber asked. Amber heard the truck now, its wheels crushing the dirt and gravel as it came down the road from Highmere.

“I can’t tell,” Jenise rasped. “Don’t give up, Amber. Don’t go back.”

Amber sensed Jenise’s urgency, but when she saw the truck, she felt relieved. Running meant more isolation and uncertainty. What if Jenise wasn’t really better? Going back to Highmere made sense.

“Let’s go home,” Amber said. “You were scared, Jenise. We were scared. We can say… I don’t know. They’ll give us counseling and then we can go back to our lives.”

“I don’t want to go to brainwashing therapy,” Jenise said.

“Stop calling it that,” Amber explained.

“You don’t even know, do you?” Jenise said. “You don’t remember how you were before Cenn died. What “therapy” did to you.”

“It helped,” Amber insisted, looking hopefully at the truck ambling toward them. “I was a mess. I needed to be able to talk to someone without dumping it on all of you.”

“But you stopped feeling,” Jenise argued. “Not just the grief; you stopped feeling joy. You used to make twittering noises when you read books. You used to get so excited about things that Cenn had to sit you down so you wouldn’t pass out.”

“I’ll be fine. I’ll be calm,” Amber said, fighting for a reason to trust her people. “They want the tablet with Chenna’s research. That’s all this is. A misunderstanding.”

“I was almost misunderstood to death!” Jenise cried, kicking at Amber, and rolling out of reach.

“Jenise, unless you can move, we can’t outrun them,” Amber said. “I am not leaving without you. I—oh, no.”

The stress of the argument made her dizzy and she dropped to her knees. A moment later, she was standing by the road, watching the truck roll by. Her voice caught in her throat, but she didn’t need to call out. The husky man in the passenger seat saw her and hollered, and the truck screeched to a stop. She recognized him from the Council—Tobin Wauld.

“I know we’re not supposed to be here. We’re scared. Can you take us home?” she asked. The weight of fear lifted for a moment, but then Wauld hoisted himself out the window, and drew a long-barreled weapon.

“Well, well, Discontent Delouise. This was too easy,” he smirked.

Amber’s lips quivered and her legs froze. She’d never seen a weapon like that in Highmere, but she’d seen them in that zombie movie. Run, you idiot, her brain shouted. She’d muttered it at the characters in the movies often enough.

He shot Amber with an orange-tipped weapon as he stalked past. She felt the sting of the puncture and a thin stream of liquid dripping into her astral form.

“Tobin, you shot her!” his companion cried.

“We came with tranqs for a reason. We don’t have time to argue with discontents,” Wauld said.

Amber still couldn’t believe a councilperson had shot her. Pretending to faint, she turned and dropped, rolling down the embankment. The moment the truck was out of sight, she willed herself back to her physical body.

“How’d it go?” Jenise asked.

“They shot me,” Amber said. Her whole body was trembling from adrenaline and she could feel the spread of the tranquilizer dart pushing against it.

“Misunderstanding?” Jenise taunted.

“Oh, no. Very clear,” Amber said, blinking away the spots in her vision. She had never experienced violence in Highmere, and she didn’t even know her people had dart guns. The feelings of shock and betrayal hit her in waves, as did a profound sense of loss. This wasn’t a short camping trip that ended with a meek return home anymore.

Author Bio

The Qinali Virus - Valerie J Mikles

Valerie loves dancing, writing, astronomy, sci-fi, and grapes. She’s agender, aromantic, and asexual, and even though her labels describe many things she is not, her motto in life is “I can be everything I want, just not all at the same time.”

Although she has yet to get paid to eat grapes, she was delighted to learn that people would pay her to study black holes, and spent much of her twenties as a black hole hunter. She was rewarded with an astronomy PhD, which promptly inspired her to move to L.A. to be a screenwriter. How she ended up working on weather satellites for NOAA, we may never know.

Her passion for story-telling extends back to before she could write, and in fall 2017, she achieved a life dream and published her first book, “The Disappeared.” Valerie currently has six books published in her New Dawn series You can learn more about Valerie’s books on her website: http://www.valeriejmikles.com

An asexual activist, Valerie has written and produced a series of comedic short films featuring asexual characters. You can watch her films online at: http://www.aces-sitcom.com. Her third book ‘Trade Circle’ features an asexual protagonist, and interestingly, she created this character before she even knew there was a word to describe it. She is super-excited about the release of the Qinali Virus, featuring an asexual, aromantic astronomer (and a weather satellite for good measure).

Author Website: http://www.valeriejmikles.com

Author Facebook (Author Page): http://www.facebook.com/vjmikles

Author Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/valeriebean

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16941635.Valerie_J_Mikles

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Valerie-J-Mikles/e/B074K2QCHG

Author LibraryThing: https://www.librarything.com/author/miklesvaleriej

LOGO - Other Worlds Ink

Release Blitz + Giveaway: RJ Scott Starter Pack by RJ Scott

RJ Scott and Signal Boost Promotions promote the release of the RJ Scott Starter Pack, which features three popular romances. Discover more and enter in the giveaway to win two back list eBooks from the author!

Three best-selling stories in one bundle!

If you’re new to the gay romance genre, or simply new to RJ Scott, this box set is a great way to sample RJ Scott's writing. Family stories, single dads, cowboys, ranchers, murder mystery -- these books have it all, and every story has a happily ever after.

Over 900 pages, and 200,000 words of “male/male gay romance at it's best.

Single (Single Dads #1)

Reeling from the painful rejection of a man he thought he loved, Asher is left holding the baby.

Ash wants a family, and is determined to continue with a surrogacy he’d begun with his ex. Bringing baby Mia home, he vows that he will be the best father he can be. Nothing in this world matters more to him than caring for his daughter, not even accidentally falling in lust with the doctor next door. Challenged by his growing attraction to Sean, and confronted by painful memories of his family, Ash has to learn that love is all that matters.

When ER doctor Sean moves in with his friends next door to sexy single father Ash, he falls so quickly it takes his breath away. The sex they have is hot, but Ash is adamant his heart is too full with love for his daughter to let anyone else in. Why is Sean the only one who sees how scared Ash is, and how can he prove to his new lover that he desperately wants the three of them to become a family?

Crooked Tree Ranch (Montana #1)

When a cowboy, meets the guy from the city, he can't know how much things will change.

On the spur of the moment, with his life collapsing around him, Jay Sullivan answers an ad for a business manager with an expertise in marketing, on a dude ranch in Montana.

With his sister, Ashley, niece, Kirsten and nephew, Josh, in tow, he moves lock stock and barrel from New York to Montana to start a new life on Crooked Tree Ranch.

Foreman and part owner of the ranch, ex rodeo star Nathaniel 'Nate' Todd has been running the dude ranch, for five years ever since his mentor Marcus Allen became ill.

His brothers convince him that he needs to get an expert in to help the business grow. He knows things have to change and but when the new guy turns up, with a troubled family in tow - he just isn't prepared for how much.

The Heart of Texas (Texas #1)

Riley Hayes, the playboy of the Hayes family, is a young man who seems to have it all: money, a career he loves, and his pick of beautiful women. His father, CEO of HayesOil, passes control of the corporation to his two sons; but a stipulation is attached to Riley's portion. Concerned about Riley's lack of maturity, his father requires that Riley 'marry and stay married for one year to someone he loves'.

Angered by the requirement, Riley seeks a means of bypassing his father's stipulation. Blackmailing Jack Campbell into marrying him "for love" suits Riley's purpose. There is no mention in his father's documents that the marriage had to be with a woman and Jack Campbell is the son of Riley Senior's arch rival. Win win.

Riley marries Jack and abruptly his entire world is turned inside out. Riley hadn't counted on the fact that Jack Campbell, quiet and unassuming rancher, is a force of nature in his own right.

This is a story of murder, deceit, the struggle for power, lust and love, the sprawling life of a rancher and the whirlwind existence of a playboy. But under and through it all, as Riley learns over the months, this is a tale about family and everything that that word means.

USA Today bestselling author RJ Scott has written over one hundred romance books. Emotional stories of complicated characters, cowboys, single dads, hockey players, millionaires, princes, bodyguards, Navy SEALs, soldiers, doctors, paramedics, fire fighters, cops, and the men who get mixed up in their lives, always with a happy ever after.

She lives just outside London and spends every waking minute she isn’t with family either reading or writing. The last time she had a week’s break from writing, she didn’t like it one little bit, and she has yet to meet a bottle of wine she couldn’t defeat.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Release Blitz + Giveaway: Broken Warrior (The Weavers Circle #1) by Jocelynn Drake & Rinda Elliott

Authors Jocelynn Drake & Rinda Elliott, as well as IndiGo Marketing, return to promote new fantasy release, Broken Warrior (The Weavers Circle #1)! Learn more about the fast paced romance and enter in the $25 Amazon gift card giveaway!

Title: Broken Warrior
Series: The Weavers Circle #1
Author: Jocelynn Drake & Rinda Elliott
Publisher: Drake and Elliott Publishing LLC
Release Date: April 24, 2020
Heat Level: 4 - Lots of Sex
Pairing: Male/Male
Length: 97,304
Genre: Romance, Fantasy, Paranormal romance, urban fantasy romance

Add to Goodreads


Clay Green

A brotherhood? Monsters? Goddesses? Magic?

The world has become a strange place.

After a life on the run, Clay Green is rescued by a crazy old lady with a shotgun and an even crazier story about monsters, goddesses, and a secret brotherhood.

Gifted with the power of the earth, Clay must locate his missing “brothers” before invading monsters can destroy everything.

As if that’s not enough to contend with, Clay can’t keep his hands off the man trying to rebuild the plantation house he’s temporarily living in.

Dane Briggs

Something strange is going on…

Dane knew restoring the old plantation house wasn’t going to be an easy job, but at least none of the clients were going to be underfoot. Since losing his wife and child, the only way Dane can keep going is to focus on the work.

But that focus crumbles the second Clay appears covered in blood and barely hanging on to life.

Mystery and danger cling to Clay and the other men who suddenly show up. A smart man would walk away.

Dane chucks smart out the window in favor of hungry kisses and the silken slide of skin against skin. He doesn’t understand what’s happening, but there’s no question that Clay needs him.

He’s just not sure his heart can survive being broken again if something happens to Clay.

Broken Warrior is the first book in The Weavers Circle series. It includes fast-paced action, explosions, hurt/comfort, sexy times, animal shenanigans, wounded hearts, three crazy old ladies, and magic!


“And were you attacked on your walk? Some kind of flying suckerfish? Because that’s definitely not a hickey on your neck,” Baer continued.

Grey lifted his mug of coffee to his lips again, but he paused long enough to agree. “Definitely not a hickey.”

Without thinking, Clay slapped his hand to the spot Dane had sucked on during round one—or was it round three? Fuck, he’d come so many times last night, his balls should need a week to recover, but his dick was refusing to take orders from his brain or balls. The damn thing wanted to say “Fuck coffee” and crawl back into bed with Dane.

Laughter rang out in the kitchen, and Clay groaned. He’d never had a roommate, but he sort of imagined this was what it was like. Fuck, when all six of them were in the plantation house, it would be like a goddamn frat house.

Grabbing a mug out of the cabinet, Clay continued to ignore the duo at the table as he poured himself a cup of liquid sanity. He took his time, adding a little sugar, and then turned to the table. Before he took one step, he lifted a hand, and whatever Baer had been about to say stopped in his throat.

“I won’t discuss it. Not one word,” Clay said firmly.

Baer’s shoulder’s slumped, and his mouth snapped shut. He looked like a sad puppy for all of two seconds before he was up and happy again.

“I’m sure Grey is one of us,” Baer announced, moving on to an entirely new subject. At least this was one Clay was willing to tackle, even if he wasn’t sure he had the brainpower for it yet. If anything, it gave him something to think about besides Dane.

“Yeah, I kind of thought that last night too.”

Clay settled into a chair across from Baer and Grey. He could use a long, hot shower and a clean set of clothes, but one look at the eager expression on Baer’s face and he knew the man would follow him to the bathroom to discuss this. He could do without them sharing the bathroom with him.

“When I saw him running with you toward the Jeep last night, I swear I got the weirdest feeling of déjà vu. I know we’ve done this all before. Well, maybe not at that club, but the running together, the fighting together.” Baer rested his forearms on the table and leaned forward. “Even when we got back to the house, I felt like I knew him. Known him my whole life.”

“The same way you feel with me?”

Baer nodded.

Clay looked over at Grey, who had both hands wrapped around the dark-blue coffee mug resting on the table in front of him. A deep frown was pulling at the corners of his mouth and drawing lines between his thick eyebrows. Without the threat of death and destruction looming over their heads, Clay took a moment to actually look at the man. Gray hair highlighted his temples, and more of it flecked the closely trimmed beard lining his jaw and chin. He was paler than himself and Baer, as if he were more likely to spend long hours inside the house, but there was no missing the lean muscles that filled out his wrinkled button-down shirt. Maybe a swimmer. Or a runner.

“What do you think?” Clay prodded when Grey remained silent.

“That this is all stupid, ridiculous, and utterly impossible,” Grey grumbled. His hands tightened on his mug, but he didn’t lift it back to his mouth.


“I can’t deny I have the same feeling of déjà vu with both of you. Something-something inside of me keeps claiming that I know.”

Clay glanced over at Baer. “Did you tell him?”

“Oh, he fucking told me so much,” Grey answered for him with a rough bark of laughter. “Powers and goddesses and other dimensions with alien monsters trying to kill us so they can destroy the world. I heard plenty last night.”

Closing his eyes, Clay pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed heavily. Yeah, that was pretty much how it all sounded. Insane and impossible. That was his life now to a T. Opening his eyes again, he stared at Baer. “And you told him all this stone-cold sober?”

Baer’s chest puffed up and he grinned broadly at his friend. “No!”

Clay rolled his eyes.

“I found that cheap bottle of whiskey we lost. I think Jo hid it. But anyway, we killed that bottle, and I explained about the pestilents, Weavers, and the Circle.”

Clay looked over at Grey, waiting for his response on how the hell he took this information while loaded up on cheap whiskey.

“And then he turned into an ostrich,” Grey said in a deadpan voice.

“I was trying for a peacock. Something flashy,” Baer commented in a low voice.

“Broke the coffee table.”

“I panicked!”

“You were drunk!” Clay shouted.

“Birds are hard,” Baer muttered under his breath, his eyes locked on his coffee mug in front of him in a pout.

Purchase at Amazon

Meet the Author

Jocelynn Drake and Rinda Elliott have teamed up to combine their evil genius to create intense gay romantic suspense stories that have car chases, shoot outs, explosions, scorching hot love scenes, and tender, tear-jerking moments. Their first joint books are in the Unbreakable Bonds series.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | eMail


a Rafflecopter giveaway

Blog Button 2

Guest Review: The Butcher of Oxford (The Jake Weston Mysteries #2) by Marko Realmonte

Timothy Ashlock risks everything to travel back in time and save his true love, Jake Weston-- but almost immediately someone is murdering the musicians in the Oxford Student Orchestra.

Who is the Butcher of Oxford?

DCI Carl Bridges thinks the couple may be involved in the crimes.

Can the boys uncover the Butcher before they end up in jail, or worse?

This thriller has twists and turns that will keep the reader guessing until the final surprising outcome. It presents a whole new take on time travel and an unapologetic look at modern LGBTQ relationships in college.

Reviewer: Annery

I guess I’ll start by some housekeeping first:

  • You really should read Murder at White Oak first
  • I’m not sure that this is a romance proper or a murder mystery in the traditional sense
  • I’m not the target audience for this

The ending of the first book left a giant question as to how the series would proceed given where we left the title character. The author’s solution is one I didn’t expect and one that seems like it will be a recurring device in the series. Nothing about this series has been what I expected and I’m not sure how I feel about it.

Book 2 picks up about a year and a half later and Timothy, now a student at Oxford, is missing Jake fiercely. A murder happens and, as we’ve come to expect, the same oafish DCIs make an appearance and that’s as much of a traditional murder mystery as we get. The rest is a bit of a dive into esoteric matters relating to time travel and “infinitely diverging timelines”, which results in Jake coming back and it’s not a moment too soon. His irreverent voice it the best part of this series. The murders of course continue but their resolution is almost sidenote to Jake & Tim’s pursuit of a life of bliss.

This book has all the strengths and faults of the prior installment though the writing is cleaner, more cinematic, and perhaps sharper. The under 20 protagonists continue to sound like characters in a poor man’s Noel Coward play, the so called adults are bumbling fools out of the better teen movies and, going by vocabulary, Jake somehow became completely British. Very little of what transpires is rooted in reality and, perhaps in an effort at inclusivity on ALL FRONTS, the book feels a bit overstuffed with characters who, IMO, don’t bring much to the story itself but a nod, but not much dwelling, at representation. However I did resolve to accept the story on its own terms, where its not so much a romance or a murder mystery but more like the adventures of two boys, perfect specimens of course, through time and space. I don’t know if it will hold true on any day of the week but despite everything I was charmed, mostly because I can imagine some gay teen somewhere reading this and seeing there’s a whole world open for them. That’s not a small thing.

Blog Tour + Giveaway: To Target the Heart (Spellster #2) by Aldrea Alien

Author Aldrea Alien and Gay Book Promotions make the final blog tour stop for fantasy romance, To Target the Heart (Spellster #2)! Discover more and enter in the giveaway for your chance to win an ebook copy of In Pain and Blood or one of two ebook copies of An Unexpected Gift!


Book Title: To Target the Heart (Spellster Series Book 2)

Author: Aldrea Alien

Cover Artist: Leonardo Borazio

Release Date: April 15, 2020

Genre/s: M/M Fantasy Romance

Trope/s: Hurt/Comfort, Man in Peril, Cultural Differences, 

Big Bottom/Little Top, Bear Bottom, Dysfunctional Family, Opposites Attract

Themes: Love, Attempted Suicide, Engagement Challenge

Heat Rating: 4 flames

Length: 226 000 words

It is a standalone book.

Buy Links - Available on Kindle Unlimited

How can he win with the odds stacked against him?


Prince Hamish has no interest in fulfilling his duty of marrying. Not to a woman, at least. That doesn’t stop his mother, Queen Fiona, from presenting him with every eligible noblewoman that enters their castle. He’s certain it’ll be no different with the representative of the Udynea Empire.

So when they do arrive, Hamish is relieved the imperial prince, Darshan, is not the woman everyone expected. Until the man kisses him and Hamish is confronted by the very emotions he has been forced to conceal or be punished for. Emotions he is eager to explore.

But the kiss proves to be a little too public and leads his mother to take drastic measures to ensure Hamish adheres to her family vision. The contest of arms will force Hamish to make a choice: give up his happiness for convention’s sake or send the kingdom spiralling into civil war for the right to love his own way.


The whole pub seemed to grow still the longer Darshan stared at the man, his expression blank.

“Bill,” Hamish hissed at the dockmaster. “That’s enough.” The man must have realised it would be the grandsire of all bad ideas to piss off someone capable of setting things on fire with a thought.

Ignoring Hamish, Billy continued to give the spellster a smarmy smile.

Darshan returned the grin, his tongue snaking out to run along the underside of his teeth. He calmly unhooked his glasses from behind his ears. “Hold these, will you?” he asked, waving the frames in Hamish’s general direction.

Hamish took a cautious step backwards. He couldn’t be certain if Darshan was merely posturing or actually planned to attack the man, but it would be better if he stayed out of it. After all, he couldn’t haul Darshan back to the castle if they were both unconscious.

He delicately reached for the glasses.

Darshan barely waited for Hamish to properly grasp them before he swung at Billy, clearly aiming for the man’s head.

Billy jerked back, too late in mounting a defence against the attack.

The spellster’s fist—heavily bedecked in jewelled rings—connected with Billy’s face like a hammer. The definite snap of breaking bone was almost an exhalation.

The dockmaster fell back, howling. Blood poured from beneath the man’s fingers, staining his blonde beard. At first, Hamish thought the ambassador had only broken Billy’s nose, until he caught sight of the dockmaster’s jaw. One side bulged alarmingly, whilst the right, the side Darshan had hit, was caved in.

The two men flanking Billy lunged at the spellster.

Sneering, Darshan flicked both his hands as if brushing the dust from his outfit. The men went flying, smashing into the walls. Neither one got up.

More men jumped up from their seats, agog. One ran out the door screaming. Not a one of them seemed to know what to do about the spellster who had made short work of three men; a foreigner who still stood over Billy without a care as to the bleeding state of his hand. Hamish wasn’t entirely certain it was even Darshan’s blood. Surely, with the force he’d hit the dockmaster, he must’ve broken something.

Darshan turned. He squinted at Hamish, then held out his bloodied hand. The fingers and knuckles seemed normal enough. No twists or swelling that suggested any harm had come to them. “My glasses, if you please?”

Hamish returned the item in question back to their owner. “I think this might be the best time to leave.” There’d be trouble once word of this got out—and a lot of questions Hamish wasn’t looking forward to answering. But if they returned to the castle now, then Gordon might be able to help him wrangle a more palatable version of events for his mother.

With the glasses once more firmly in place on his face, Darshan glared at Billy. “One moment.” He strode over to the howling man and grabbed his head. “Do not move or I will leave you injured. And I would advise against trying to talk.”

Billy stilled. Panic and fear flashed in his tear-redden eyes.

It had been some years since Hamish had last been in the presence of healing magic. But he’d been in no position to objectively watch either. Seeing the man’s face slowly reform to its previous state was something he’d never thought he would witness.

Billy’s cheeks shifted alarmingly, like a bubbling pot of porridge. The skin constantly changed colour, from the pinkish-red of freshly-struck to the bruised rainbow hues of blue, purple and green, then fading to trout-brown before regaining its natural wrinkled and heavily-tanned state.

Throughout it all, Billy’s eyes grew wider. He whimpered and fisted at his trousers. If Darshan hadn’t already stipulated stillness, he likely would’ve bolted from the spellster’s grip.

When Darshan was done, he released Billy’s head and let the man tumble onto the floor. “Call me that again and I shall do the same,” he snarled as he bent over the dockmaster. “Only next time, you can keep the broken jaw. Understood?”

Billy nodded. “Aye, your lordship.” He back-crawled across the flagstones, pausing only to rub his jaw and standing once Darshan was well beyond physical reach.

Dusting his hands, the ambassador returned to Hamish’s side. “As entertaining as that was, I think you are right, we should return to the castle.”

About the Author 

Aldrea Alien is an award-winning, bisexual author of fantasy romance with varying heat levels. Born and raised in New Zealand, she lives on a small farm with her family, including a menagerie of animals, who are all convinced they're just as human as the next person. Especially the cats. Since discovering a love of writing at the age of twelve, she hasn't found an ounce of peace from the characters plaguing her mind with all of them clamouring for her to tell their story first.

Social Media Links


Enter the Rafflecopter giveaway for a chance to win

an ebook copy of In Pain and Blood or

one of two ebook copies of An Unexpected Gift

Release Blitz + Giveaway: Scarlet Gaze by Foster Bridget Cassidy

Author Foster Bridget Cassidy and IndiGo Marketing host today's release blitz for fantasy new adult, Scarlet Gaze! Learn more about the romance and enter in the $10 NineStar Press credit giveaway!

Title: Scarlet Gaze
Author: Foster Bridget Cassidy
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: April 20, 2020
Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex
Pairing: Male/Male
Length: 69300
Genre: Fantasy, LGBTQIA+, MM romance, new adult, virgin, college students, British setting, magic, demons, time travel, teleportation

Add to Goodreads


After a paranormal encounter in his youth with someone from his future, Collin Frey sets his sights on getting to Marke Staple University. Now eighteen and with a full scholarship to the prestigious university, Collin hopes to find an explanation to that life-changing event. Unfortunately, it only leads to more questions.

Finding out he’s there to study magic is the first surprise. The second is his roommate, Terrence, looks identical to the person who started him on the path to Marke Staple.

Collin’s more than willing to sell his soul to get closer to Terrence and uncover all the secrets hidden there. Can knowing a man will change after making a horrible mistake ease the pain of betrayal? Collin is going to find out.


Scarlet Gaze
Foster Bridget Cassidy © 2020
All Rights Reserved

Chapter One
Mom and Dad chatted softly as I gazed out the taxi window. Occasionally, the driver would point out a well-known sight, or something of interest. My parents oohed and aahed, but I barely registered the words. My thoughts focused inward, to the red-eyed man, his desperate pleas for forgiveness, and the total absurdity of the situation. When my mind dwelled on the event from my youth, the rational side wanted to dismiss it as a daydream, or some sort of hallucinated episode. The man had disappeared. That sort of thing didn’t happen in real life.

Yet here I was. Following the clues that could easily turn out to be nothing more than a figment of my imagination.

“And ’ere we are,” the cabbie said, pulling the car to a stop. “Marke Staple University. Very prestigious.” He turned around and smiled at me. “You’re a lucky one to get in.”

Mom leaned forward eagerly. “Not lucky at all! Collin got a full scholarship! He’s very bright.”

I wrinkled my nose and unbuckled my seat belt. “Thanks for the ride.”

I climbed out and gazed upon the school’s gothic spires. They sent ominous shadows stretching across the school grounds. One at the center of the campus stood higher than the rest. I recognized it from the school’s website. And the coin. The familiarity of it made my heart ache. So close.

The driver got out of the car and opened the trunk. He lifted our bags out and set them on the sidewalk. Dad slipped him a few American dollars, which he took with a wink. “Thanks a lot. And good luck in your studies.” He waved before climbing back inside and disappearing the way we came.

“So, here it is,” Dad said, following my gaze to the spires. “Kinda creepy.”

Mom lightly smacked Dad’s shoulder. “Travis! Don’t say things like that. It’s an old school, with old architecture.”

“And old ghosts,” Dad muttered, then shot me a mischievous grin. “I hope you don’t venture out at night.”

I laughed, and the tension filling me lessened. A bit.

Dad threw his arm over my shoulder and pulled me in for a side hug. “Come on, kiddo. Let’s check this place out.”

A man in a butler-type uniform headed our way, a trolley in front of him. He stopped in front of us and gave a formal bow. “Mr. and Mrs. Frey? I’m Stephen, Mr. Helmer’s coordinator. We sent a car to pick you up, but apparently they were stuck in traffic and didn’t make it on time. You’ll be compensated for the fee, of course.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Dad said.

Stephen dipped his head, graying hair falling over his eyes, but when he rose, he didn’t look happy with Dad’s dismissal of the taxi fare. “Mr. Helmer will be here shortly, but he sent me ahead to collect your luggage.”

“Thank you,” Mom said as he loaded our bags onto the trolley.

“I’ll get them delivered to your rooms.” Another bow, then he scampered off.

“That’s awful nice,” Mom added. “A car to pick us up—even if we missed it—and a butler to carry our things. What else will they do for us?”

“Well, they’re giving me a full scholarship,” I said, walking forward. “That should be plenty.” The tuition here was enormous. I had been lucky they’d offered me a scholarship, or else I never could have afforded this place. Millionaires sent their children here. Mom and Dad barely made enough to send Mindy—my older sister—to Florida State. This was on the other side of the Atlantic.

Mom and Dad followed my lead. We stepped past the stone gate and onto campus. As soon as my foot touched the ground on the other side, a tingle ran up my spine. I glanced around, wondering if they had a laser or infrared camera pointed at us. Nothing looked out of place. No obvious surveillance. With the next step, the chill vanished, so I dismissed it as a fluke and pushed it from my mind.

The campus was constructed of stone buildings, most sporting tall spires. Nothing in Florida even came close to this. In age or in design. An odd sensation permeated the air, almost like the change in air pressure on an airplane. A hum sounded just a decibel below hearing.

“Which way should we go?” Dad asked.

Mom pointed to a small sign in the grassy area in front of us. “Freshman orientation. That way.” She gestured to the right.

We started in that direction, but an older gentleman jogging toward us slowed our steps. I recognized his face—Patrick Helmer, the dean.

“Mr. and Mrs. Frey,” he called out, waving his hands over his head.

We stopped and allowed him to catch up. When he did, he smiled broadly, adding more wrinkles to his kindly face. “And Collin, of course,” he said to me. “I’m glad you made it in safely. I’m Patrick Helmer, the dean.” He shook all our hands enthusiastically. “I must apologize for the mix-up with the car. We must have copied your flight time incorrectly.”

“It was no problem,” Mom said. “The cab driver got us here quickly.”

“We wanted to do more, Mrs. Frey, to show how excited we are to have Collin here.”

Mom smiled, happy for someone to be singing my praises.

“We were just heading to orientation,” I said, gesturing in the direction we’d been going.

Helmer waved his hand dismissively. “No, that’s for the ordinary students. You don’t need to listen in. If you don’t mind, I’ll give you a tour of the campus.”

“That would be lovely,” Mom said. “Are you sure you’re not too busy?”

“Never too busy to assist our new literature students. We take pride in both our programs, but literature is the jewel in our crown. Collin won’t want for anything while he’s in our care, Mrs. Frey.”

Some of the tension left Mom’s shoulders at his words.

“Now, this way.” He led us deeper onto campus. “Marke Staple is a very old, very selective school.”

“I know,” I said. When we’d returned home from Colorado, I had looked into this place. I had the whole history of it memorized. And when I’d found out they only had two degrees—literature and business—I had applied myself to my studies and set my sights on getting here. “You only select five students a year to be in your literature program.”

The dean grinned. “Correct. And we are very happy you selected our school, Collin. I know you had plenty to choose from.”

I nodded, but it wasn’t true. Oh sure, my grades were so fantastic I could have gone to almost any I chose, but Marke Staple was the only place for me. My encounter with the red-eyed man cemented it.

“This”—Helmer said, lifting his hand toward the closest building—“is Lapris Hall. It’s the administrative building. My office is in there, as well as all the other teachers’. If you have any problems, you can find your solutions there.”

The building was two stories, with a dozen windows on this side. At each corner, elegant spires rose twice the height of the building. Atop each spire was an animal statue. A dog. A cat. A bird. A turtle. Curious. Most ancient buildings like this put statues of people or crosses, or at the very least gargoyles.

Helmer noticed my study of the spires and leaned close to me. “Wards,” he said softly. “They protect us.”

I shivered again, wondering what a university would need protection from.

He continued walking. Mom and Dad followed, but I lingered. Something about the building…wasn’t right. There was a haze that drew the eyes to the top, to the spires.

“Come on, Collin,” Dad called.

I pulled my gaze away and hurried after.

“This,” the dean said at the next building, “is Regalia Hall. All your classes will be in here. Besides the Staple Spire, it has the most original stonework. Only the west wall was affected by an earthquake in 1734.”

This building had one spire over the entrance, although several cats sat atop the buttresses. If four protecting Lapris Hall were enough, why did this building need a dozen?

“English departments are all the same,” Dad said, lifting his chin to study the detailed stonework. “And I bet the teachers all look like Dracula. That’s how it was at my college.”

Helmer laughed. “We don’t have any vampires on staff. A few hybrids, perhaps, but nothing dangerous.” Then he met my eyes and winked.

We continued around the rectangular campus, passing the café, and then the math building, the economics building, and other places the dean said I would have no use for. With only five students in each year, the literature program hosted twenty students total. The business program had four hundred. Naturally, most of the space would be devoted to their courses.

Finally, we reached the dormitories. There were three: lined in a row on the south side of campus. The school’s rock-wall perimeter stood just a few feet from the rear of the buildings.

“The men’s dormitory is on the left,” Dean Helmer said, gesturing. It was two stories, lacked any spires, and was identical to the one on the right. “The women’s dorm is on the right. The staff’s in the center.” The staff’s building was taller, and had two enormous statues peering down at the students’ dorms.

“Let me guess,” I said, nodding up toward the statues. One was a lion, the other a tiger. “They’re meant to keep us in after curfew.”

The dean chuckled and clapped a hand on my shoulder affectionately. “Ah, Collin. I do wish we could set them to that task. Unfortunately, we rely on resident assistants to enforce the curfew. Our statues are simply meant to ward off any danger.”

“Ah,” I said as if that made perfect sense.

“Now, why don’t we leave you to get settled into your room. You’ve got your room assignment?”

I wiggled my phone. “Yeah, it’s in my email.”

Helmer nodded, then turned to my parents. “Mr. and Mrs. Frey? If you’ll join me in my office, I’ll go over the finer points of Collin’s scholarship. Give you our emergency contact information. Get yours in return. That sort of thing.”

Mom looked at me, hesitating. “Will you be okay on your own?”

“I’m fine, Mom. I don’t want you and Dad being overbearing when I meet my roommate.”

Helmer glanced at his watch. “We can meet in an hour at the cafe for dinner? Will that suit you, Mrs. Frey?”

She nibbled her lip, but dipped her head. “All right. We’ll see you in a bit.”

The dean smiled. “Wonderful! Michael is your RA, Collin. Ask him if you have any questions.”


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

Meet the Author

Foster Bridget Cassidy is a rare, native Phoenician who enjoys hot desert air and likes to wear jackets in summer. She has wanted to be a fiction writer since becoming addicted to epic fantasy during high school. Since then, she’s studied the craft academically—at Arizona State University—and as a hobby—attending conventions and workshops around the country. A million ideas float in her head, but it seems like there’s never enough time to get them all down on paper.

For fun, Foster likes to take pictures of her dachshunds, sew costumes for her dachshunds, snuggle her dachshunds, and bake treats for her dachshunds. In exchange for so much love and devotion, they pee vast amounts on the floor, click their nails loudly on the tile, and bark wildly at anything that moves outside. Somehow, this relationship works for all involved.

While not writing, Foster can usually be found playing a video game or watching a movie with her husband. While not doing any of those things, Foster can usually be found in bed, asleep.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram


a Rafflecopter giveaway

Blog Button 2

Review: The Infinite Onion by Alice Archer

The truth is harder to hide when someone sharp starts poking around.

Grant Eastbrook hit the ground crawling after his wife kicked him out. Six months later, in Seattle without a job or a place to live, he escapes to the woods of nearby Vashon Island to consider his options. When he’s found sleeping outdoors by a cheerful man who seems bent on irritating him to death, Grant’s plans to resuscitate his life take a peculiar turn.

Oliver Rossi knows how to keep his fears at bay. He’s had years of practice. As a local eccentric and artist, he works from his funky home in the deep woods, where he thinks he has everything he needs. Then he rescues an angry man from a rainy ditch and discovers a present worth fighting the past for.

Amid the buzz of high summer, unwelcome attraction blooms on a playing field of barbs, defenses, and secrets.

Having been profoundly moved by Everyday History with its unique concepts, I obviously wanted a repeat performance. This was another book about self discovery but sadly, it was more an exercise in frustration for me.

Grant finds himself in dire consequence of his own making. Definitely down on his luck, definitely at the end of his rope, he’s bitter and resigned with very little hope to make his desperate situation better. When he retreats to his ex brother in law’s vacation property to squat in their shed, survivor’s instinct makes Grant ask for bare basics help from an eccentric stranger so that he can regroup and formulate a plan.

Oliver sorta kinda loves a challenge. An artist and an unqualified quasi therapist, his free spirit and need to help others allows him to offer aid. With conditions. The surly dirty man needs a shift in his axis to discover why he’s the way he is, and Oliver knows he can help Grant, if only Grant would just let go and try his 5 week no fail plan.

It’s no surprise that Grant and Oliver’s personalities clash, each aggravated and fascinated, each pushing the other’s buttons to the max. Neither will back down, and as Grant gradually “grows”, he realizes he’s not the only one with issues. It’s soon apparent that Oliver has buried something deep inside, causing his own personal stasis in life, all of which has been holding him back for many many years.

I get it. This was almost like a self help book featuring an enemies to lovers theme and both these men had some major baggage (duh) and both these men had to confront some very harsh truths. Credit for a slow burn. Grant and Oliver get under each other’s skin like an awful annoying rash, bringing out their worst, making their painful soul dissection just not all that much fun.

So as a warning, these characters many times throughout, weren’t very likeable. There’s also an open relationship involving Oliver, and though not much sexual goes on, the 3rd wheel hangs around almost to the very end. However, Archer succeeds at the vivid imagery mostly in the setting of Washington's Vashon Island, making me want to visit its picturesque natural beauty. The descriptiveness of Oliver’s daydreams were interesting additions showcasing his artistic mind, and how the author put Grant's own revelatory creations to page, came to insightful life. Despite all that, the few times this story truly moved me weren’t due to the romance, but Grant’s interactions with his tween nephew and his gaggle of friends he takes on as his own.

Overall, this was too difficult of a win for me but again, if you like that sort of conflicted realism and if you like Archer, then this should be fulfilling as evidenced by the many other readers who’ve rated this book already. The hard fought happy ending was just not enough, though I appreciated the reveal as to why these men were who they were. Unfortunately, it’s just difficult for me to not compare an author’s works amongst themselves, because how can I not? While one evoked so many swoony feels, the other calls for my own 5 week recovery program to be able to move on and let go.

Thank you to the author for a copy in exchange for an honest review.

Release Blitz + Giveaway: Dragon Consultant (Supernatural Consultant #1) by Mell Eight

Dragon Consultant (Supernatural Consultant #1) is out from NineStar Press! Join author Mell Eight and IndiGo Marketing on today's release blitz and enter in the $10 NSP credit giveaway today!

Title: Dragon Consultant
Series: Supernatural Consultant, Book One
Author: Mell Eight
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: April 20, 2020
Heat Level: 1 - No Sex
Pairing: Male/Male
Length: 33300
Genre: Paranormal YA, LGBTQIA+, YA, dragon shifter, mage, men with children, magical detective agency

Add to Goodreads


Dane, a supernatural consultant, is hired by the FAA to look into a series of reported dragon attacks on their planes. What Dane finds in the wooded area where the attacks took place is not quite the problem he expected: a group of dragon kits and their sick father hiding from the authorities.

When he learns the real reason the family was in the woods, his case grows more dangerous, and though Dane is experienced at both crime solving and watching his own back, taking care of baby dragons and their ill father makes everything else look easy.


Dragon Consultant
Mell Eight © 2020
All Rights Reserved

The phone started ringing out in the main office just as Dane was finishing up with his last client of the day. He had to suppress an eager smile—Dane could only think of one reason for the phone to ring so late—and refocused his attention on his current client. Dane had been expecting the client on the phone to call a week ago; he could wait ten more minutes.

“Mrs. Hempstead, I assure you the pixies are not the ones harming your prized roses. In fact, I’m fairly certain that the pixies are the only reason your roses are still alive, given the extensive damage in your garden.” Dane tried to speak slowly and calmly so the elderly Mrs. Hempstead would understand and hopefully not get angry. It was probably a lost cause, though. She screamed pretentious and arrogant from the large pearl necklace around her wrinkled neck to the expensive mink coat she was wearing on a warm spring evening. She was used to hearing yes to everything she asked, so Dane telling her she was wrong would probably not go over well.

“If it isn’t those disgusting pixies, then what is destroying my roses?” she snapped, her back regally straight and her eyes flashing with anger. Dane was shivering with fear in his chair…not. “You are supposed to be the premier consultant on everything supernatural. I expect results!”

Dane kept his face pleasant through sheer force of will. He had known this reaction was coming, but that didn’t make it any more fun.

“The teeth marks on the bushes were quite distinctive,” Dane continued gamely. “I would suggest that you keep your dog away from that part of your garden if you want your rosebushes to bloom at all this year.”

She gasped, one silk-gloved hand flying to her chest as if Dane had uttered the most offensive thing she had ever heard. “Diamond would never do something like that!” The Chihuahua in question chose that moment to fart loudly in its carry-purse on the floor next to her chair, an action Mrs. Hempstead completely ignored.

“I have found the pixie family from your garden a new home where their abilities will be properly appreciated. You shouldn’t be bothered by their presence any longer.”

She sniffed in disdain. “Well, at least you’ve done as I asked. I’m sure my rosebushes will recover now that they’re gone. Contact my solicitor for payment.” She got to her feet smoothly, turned, and walked out of his office without a single word of thanks. Her roses would be dead by the end of the week; he’d bet that damned ankle-biter currently destroying her designer purse would ensure that.

Mrs. Hempstead didn’t dawdle on her way out of the office. Barely thirty seconds later, Dane heard the outer door shut with a click. The phone on his desk lit up, and his secretary’s voice sounded through the speaker.

“You have a call on line two. It seems important; he insisted on holding until you were done with your meeting.”

“Thanks, Becky,” Dane replied into the speakerphone. The lights on the phone all vanished as Becky hung up, except for the button blinking for line two. Each line belonged to a different type of client thanks to a nifty spell that made his life so much easier. Mrs. Hempstead would have gone to line three, as an ordinary human. Supernatural creatures lit up line one. Line two was for anything remotely associated with the government.

Dane picked up the phone, hit the button, and held the handset to his ear. He already knew who would be calling and why, but a touch of professionalism never hurt.

“This is Dane, your local supernatural consultant,” Dane said, his voice stiff with formality. “How may I help you today?”

“Why aren’t you already traveling to the mountain in question?” the voice on the other end snapped.

“Why, hello, Jacobson. So nice to hear from you!” If he was going to give Dane flack, Dane would give it right back. Jacobson was the ignorant fool in charge of the local division of the SupFeds, or the Federal Bureau of Supernatural Investigation, the branch of the federal government that oversaw all supernatural issues that had to do with the police or military. Jacobson was a human without the slightest magical ability. He relied on those who had power, like Dane, with far too little foresight. He simply didn’t understand just what he was dealing with whenever he called Dane.

If he did, he would be a whole heck of a lot politer.

“You know exactly why I’m calling. The FAA is talking about calling up the Air Force for a strike.”

“All for a dragon harassing a couple of airplanes?” Dane asked, skeptical that things would be so bad for such a little problem.

“How about multiple dragons? We’ve had sightings of at least one red and one blue dragon in the area.” Now that was an interesting fact that hadn’t made the news. “They’ve attacked three planes and forced an additional dozen to turn back. We’re diverting flights right now, but it’s not sustainable. We need those dragons contained as soon as possible. If you don’t step in, we’re going to have to take drastic action. I’ve sent all the information we’ve been able to gather to your email.”

The phone clicked and Jacobson was gone. He had hung up on Dane. What a bastard. One of these days someone was going to eat him, and Dane would get a nasty phone call from his successor asking Dane to figure out how, who, and why. Dane occasionally wondered how he would explain that Jacobson was an ignorant dick while still maintaining his professionalism. It really wasn’t a phone call he was looking forward to.


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

Meet the Author

When Mell Eight was in high school, she discovered dragons. Beautiful, wondrous creatures that took her on epic adventures both to faraway lands and on journeys of the heart. Mell wanted to create dragons of her own, so she put pen to paper. Mell Eight is now known for her own soaring dragons, as well as for other wonderful characters dancing across the pages of her books. While she mostly writes paranormal or fantasy stories, she has been seen exploring the real world once or twice.

Website | Facebook | Twitter


a Rafflecopter giveaway

Blog Button 2