Showing posts with label Interspecies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Interspecies. Show all posts

Release Blitz + Giveaway: Conspiracy (A New World #3) by M.D. Neu


 

Title:  Conspiracy

Series: A New World, Book Three

Author: M.D. Neu

Publisher:  NineStar Press

Release Date: 08/16/2022

Heat Level: 2 - Fade to Black Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 126800

Genre: Sci Fi, LGBTQIA+, Space travel, aliens, politics, grief, interspecies romance

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Description

A little blue world, the third planet from the sun. It’s home to seven billion people with all manner of faiths, beliefs and customs, divided by bigotry and misunderstanding, who have been told they are not alone in the universe. Anyone watching from the outside would pass by this fractured and tumultuous world, unless they had no other choice.

It’s been a little over a year since Todd Landon’s life changed with the arrival of the Nentraee. Continuing his duties as Special Envoy for Terran Affairs, Todd finally feels at home with the aliens; gaining more responsibility and influence with both races. Plans are underway for two Interplanetary spaceports and additional solar exploration. It’s an exciting time for both the humans and the Nentraee.

Not everything is as perfect as some hope. Speaker General Mirtoff and Vice-Speaker Mi’ko of the Nentraee are worried that the Liberi Dei plot additional terrorist attacks and may have inside help. Threats are clear, but who can they trust? Could Todd be helping them unknowingly or worse covertly? Will these new space endeavors continue to bring the human and the Nentraee together or will a conspiracy hiding in the shadows fracture an already shaky alliance?

Excerpt

Conspiracy
M.D. Neu © 2022
All Rights Reserved

The Security Training area appeared ordinary, especially since the space was in a secured part of the ship. Yes, the area had grass and a few shrubs outside the façade, but the endless sky feeling didn’t exist here; overall, this area had been built more for function and less for form. Still, Todd was glad he had access to the location, and the gym had everything they needed for a good workout. He had even managed to have the Nentraee bring up some human gym equipment for his use, as he didn’t want to risk his life on the Nentraee equipment. Sure, the human machines got a few odd looks from the Nentraee security when he and Dan used them, but Vi-Narm confided in him several of the security personnel had tried the pieces and used them when no humans were around.

He cracked his neck, thinking of his earlier conversation with Brad. Seeing his brother again would be a nice treat, and Brad had been correct: too much time had passed since Todd had seen Brad or the rest of his family down on Earth. The infrequent visits weren’t all his fault; so much had changed over the last year, and he had a lot of work to do, especially knowing Liberi Dei continued to lurk out there, waiting. A shudder ran down his spine. Martha’s words still haunted him.

Too bad you won’t live long enough to find out. What had she been organizing? Her death was a shame really, killed by her own people before he found out what she and Liberi Dei actually wanted. However, they were still out there planning. Which added to his frustration of late: Mi’ko and Mirtoff no longer included him in anything to do with the terrorist organization, saying keeping him detached from the matter kept him safe.

Todd had no reason to doubt them, but something tickled the back of his mind and he wasn’t sure if this was the only reason they kept him in the dark about Liberi Dei.

He missed the tick of his pocket watch.

So much has changed.

He dug through his bag, pulled out his pocket watch, and checked the time.

“Where is he?” Todd huffed and put the timepiece in his gym bag, his hand brushing along the cool surface of his datapad.

Dan should have been here twenty minutes ago; at this rate Todd would barely have enough time for their workout and for him to get changed and ready for the interview.

A chirp called his attention.

Todd reached into his bag and pulled out his datapad. Now what? He tapped the pad to activate the device.

“Dan!” Todd’s voice called out louder than he had hoped, but no one around him seemed to notice. “Where are you? You’re late.”

“I know.” Dan’s expression remained flat with no Danness to flavor his words. “Listen, I’m heading to Earth. I have to see my family and take care of some things.”

“What? Is everything okay?”

“Fine.” Dan’s tone faltered and his expression sank. “They’re fine, sorry; just a lot going on and my mom isn’t getting any younger.”

“I get it, my parents–”

“Look, I have to go. I’ll talk to you soon.”

“When you–”

The communications ended and the Nentraee seal appeared.

“What the hell?” Todd shook his head and dropped the pad into his bag.

Todd raked a hand through his hair. Well, now he would have plenty of time to get ready for the interview. He made his way over to the lockers to change into his work clothes and ceremonial robe. Once Todd cleaned up, he made his way out of the locker room.

“Special Envoy.” A deep familiar voice caught Todd’s attention as he left the facility.

He turned to see Vi-Narm standing there in the equivalent of workout wear: loose pants and a flowy top.

“Hi, Vi-Narm.”

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready to meet with GNN?”

Todd nodded. “I planned to get in some training with Dan today, but…”

“If you would like to train, I would be happy to workout with you, after your duties.” Vi-Narm tossed her long ponytail over her shoulder.

Todd picked at his deep-blue ceremonial cloak, the one given to him by Mi’ko and Mirtoff to represent his standing in Nentraee society. The cloak draped over his shoulders, and the wide embroidered collar with silver stitching sparkled as the threads caught the light. He checked the two large silver clasps with matching deep-blue stones attaching the cloak to his shoulders. The ends of the cloak fell to the floor, revealing the embroidery as the stitching continued down to each of the eight symbols representing the Nentraee clans and the one representing humans.

“Do I look okay?” Todd asked.

“You look respectable for your position and the purpose of your meeting,” Vi-Narm said.

“And with that not-so-shining endorsement, I’ll head off.” He winked at her. “Thanks for the offer to work out. I’ll have to take you up on the suggestion, especially if Dan keeps ditching me.”

On his way out, he gave one more glance over his shoulder to the facility and the surrounding area. Dan and he were supposed to work out twice a week, and yet over the last several months Dan had cancelled many of their get-togethers, not just the workouts. Each time they met, Dan appeared more preoccupied. More distant. Todd shook his head. At least he still had Brad’s visit to look forward to, even if he would be here for work and not play.

He felt the tick of his pocket watch and marched on in time with each tick. Once he found a viewport, he glanced out, seeing one of the Speaker General’s ship’s parks. A group of xĩmé flew by, the deep blue of their feathers a contrast to the yellow leaves of the nabutimaba tree. He chuckled and shook his head. Recent events seemed insane to him, like something out of some sci-fi series.

“What a year.” He sighed as he continued on.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

M.D. Neu is an award-winning queer Fiction Writer with a love for writing and travel. Living in the heart of Silicon Valley (San Jose, California) and growing up around technology, he’s always been fascinated with what could be. Specifically drawn to Science Fiction and Paranormal television and novels, M.D. Neu was inspired by the great Gene Roddenberry, George Lucas, Stephen King, Alice Walker, Alfred Hitchcock, Harvey Fierstein, Anne Rice, and Kim Stanley Robinson. An odd combination, but one that has influenced his writing.

Growing up in an accepting family as a gay man he always wondered why there were never stories reflecting who he was. Constantly surrounded by characters that only reflected heterosexual society, M.D. Neu decided he wanted to change that. So, he took to writing, wanting to tell good stories that reflected our diverse world.

When M.D. Neu isn’t writing, he works for a non-profit and travels with his biggest supporter and his harshest critic, Eric his husband of twenty plus years.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Instagram

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Returning Heroes (The Galatic Captains #6) by Harry F. Rey

Returning Heroes (The Galatic Captains #6) is out from NineStar Press! Join author Harry F. Rey and IndiGo Marketing in celebrating the new release! Enter in the NSP credit giveaway!

Title: Returning Heroes

Series: The Galactic Captains, Book Six

Author: Harry F. Rey

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 01/11/2022

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male, Male/Male Menage

Length: 83100

Genre: SciFi, LGBTQIA+, action,adventure, aliens, dark, MM romance, #ownvoices, royalty, sci-fi, futuristic, space, folklore, gods, intercultural, interspecies, war of worlds

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Description

Captain Ales has returned to the galaxy, forever changed as the powers have prepared for war. He’ll accept help from anyone if it leads to the mysterious Turo from whose cage Ales must free himself if he ever wants to return to the Red Moon.

Meanwhile Daeron has been offered the deal of a lifetime by the ruler of the Seven Suns. Marry Osvai, the Kyleri prince, and become heir to the richest star-state in the galaxy while raising an army to restore the prince to his rightful place as Emperor of the Million Suns.

But Viscamon’s grip on Jiwani has only tightened as the nobles imprisoned in the Royal Baths still refuse to bow to the immortal’s cataclysmic theology of destroying the Galactic Balance. It seems the only way for Imperial Guard Captain Antari to avoid a massacre is outright treachery.

While dynasties play galactic politics, the Outer Verge is being torn apart. From a prison cell, Mahnoor watches The Rip destroying Targuline, until the Kyleri rebels offer him the chance to save himself by flying into the heart of danger. He might even become Jansen’s most unlikely hero.

Heroes and villains run riot around the galaxy, unleashing destructive forces and sliding the great powers toward a war from which no one will be safe.

Excerpt

Returning Heroes
Harry F. Rey © 2022
All Rights Reserved

The sleek, spacious travel pod sliced through the swirling burnt-orange clouds of Bazman. Daeron edged forward on the puffed, pillowy chair that consistently failed to relax him. He tugged at the high collar of his pure-white Dalvian silk jacket—yet another gift from President Ezreal. He stared out the window at the spindly towers stretching in and out of the clouds above and below. The teeming city-world of Bazman, capital of the Confederation of the Seven Suns, supposedly the richest star-state in the Shakti Democria, was to Daeron no better than any of the thousands of worlds he’d been on. The rich lived above, flying around in these perfumed and carpeted pods, while the poor shuffled in and out of a noxious atmosphere far below.

Daeron could go anywhere he wanted on Bazman; no store, restaurant, menagerie, or cultural complex was too exclusive for President Ezreal’s new favorite son. Six weeks ago, they’d barely escaped the Kyleri fleet which had blown up Aldegar’s megacollider. Daeron and the remaining crew of the Daring Huntress chased Turo and the double-crossing Ezi into the Shakti Nebula, only to end up invited to land here by Ezreal’s security forces. On Bazman, where he could go anywhere at all, just not leave.

“What’s wrong now, Daeron?” Osvai said, relaxing in his similarly styled—but all black—Dalvian silk suit. The missing heir to the Kyleri Empire sipped on a Lactarian malt from a crystal glass while grinning at an entertainment package broadcast on the holoscreen in front of his seat. Lest His Imperial Majesty get bored in the half hour it takes to get from Bazman’s presidential palace to the restaurant opening. Daeron glanced over at the prince who was now biting his lip to keep from laughing at the holovid. Daeron watched for a moment. He’d never seen anything so stupid.

“What’s so funny about people walking into things? It’s cruel.”

Osvai wasn’t listening. He gasped in laughter as some poor unsuspecting holo-person had a pile of trash dumped on their head. Daeron flung himself against the seat, but it only absorbed the shock and began to massage his lower back. Daeron could huff all he wanted, but Osvai had stopped caring about what bothered Daeron. He stroked his thick black beard, forgetting it was still glistening in the fancy oils Osvai made him use. Daeron wiped his greasy hand on the plush arm of the chair and returned to staring out the window at the traffic lanes of pods gliding through the clouds and between the towers—with no end and no beginning.

“Are Xenia and the rest of the crew coming tonight?” Daeron asked, breathing slowly through his nose, trying to let the fury of being stuck in a gilded prison subside. It wasn’t going anywhere. Just like him.

“They left.”

Daeron spun on the chair to face Osvai.

“They…left?”

“Yeah. Didn’t I tell you?” Osvai said, not looking up from the holovid. Daeron yanked at the silk collar constricting his neck, and it let out a satisfying rip.

“No…you didn’t tell me. That was…my crew. My ship.” Daeron was doing everything in his power to stay calm, but he knew his string was about to snap. Maybe if Osvai understood that, they wouldn’t spend half their nights screaming at each other in their apartment in the presidential palace.

“I guess they went to meet your mom.” Osvai drained his glass, then stretched and placed it inside an alcove grooved into the wall where a nozzle filled it back up. “Isn’t it her crew again now she’s back?”

Daeron fell into a sulking silence at the mention of his mom. Maybe Osvai knew him better than he thought. Because the moment Captain Sanya was raised, Daeron shut down. It had been weeks since she and that Tevian girlfriend of hers, Sallah, had crossed back through the horizon point with her brat, Ales. Had they come to see him? No. Daeron had only learned their mission had been successful from the newscasts. The returning hero Captain Ales, who apparently had an Ingvarian fleet at his disposal now, as well as the entire Outer Verge, had been spotted at the Mayo resort in the Central Star States. After their collective trauma, Captain Sanya, Sallah, and Ales had decided to play happy families and treat themselves to a little vacation at one of the most expensive systems in the galaxy.

It hurt Daeron hard. He’d still not seen her. Not even a holovid call. He stretched out his hand and opened his palm-tech to flick through the only messages his mom had sent since she’d returned.

The megacollider is gone then?

Yeah, as if a rebel Kyleri fleet blowing up an ancient sphere surrounding an entire sun had been his fault. Then, loving, motherly message number two.

Why is Osvai not back on Jiwani? And you lost Turo? Can’t you do anything right?

Good point. Why was Osvai not back on Jiwani?

“Don’t you care at all?” Daeron snapped, spitting his frustrations at Osvai. The prince finally looked up from the holovid, staring back with those thin eyes and sunset skin that Daeron couldn’t deny filled him with lust. Even if he was perpetually pissed off at him.

“Care about what, Daeron?”

“Your fucking empire.” Daeron stood up, kicking the chair hard so it spun like a ship out of control. Osvai drained his glass again and, with an overly audible sigh, came over to Daeron and slid his small arms as far around Daeron as they could go. But Daeron wriggled out of his half hug and slunk to the back of the pod, watching the dusty clouds spinning like a vortex as they flew.

“What do you want me to do, Daeron? Fight Viscamon for my throne with what army, exactly?”

“My mom said to take you home.”

“Oh, your mom said. It’s always the same story with you, Daeron. Your mom says you have to stay on Jiwani with a father you never knew, and you stayed. Your mom says look after me until I’m back on Jiwani, and you blame me for staying in the one place in the galaxy no one’s trying to kill me!”

Here we go. Another screaming match.

“Can we not do this now?” Daeron said, arms folded and his back to Osvai. “The president invited us to this restaurant opening, and since he’s the one keeping you safe and letting us stay for free, we don’t need you getting drunk and making a scene.”

“Excuse me?”

“Sorry, more drunk.”

Osvai sucked in a short breath. If they’d learned one thing about each other since escaping Jiwani together on the night of Osvai’s father, Emperor Kantori’s, assassination, it was how to push each other’s buttons.

“When was the last time you saw Xenia?” Osvai asked, lathered in bitterness. “Or Tal, or Bindi? Or even Voros? When was it? Kaj’s memorial service?”

“Shut up, Osvai.”

“You haven’t asked about them in weeks. So don’t pretend you didn’t know they’d leave. You didn’t want to know.”

“I said shut up!”

“You can say I’m afraid all you want. And yes, I am afraid of going back to Jiwani when Viscamon is imprisoning nobles until he’s blackmailed enough to crown himself emperor. That’s a normal thing to be scared of. But you—”

“Osvai, I’m fucking warning you.” Daeron spun around to see him sauntering around the pod with a look of victory splashed across his face.

“You might look like a big scary man, Daeron, but you’re just a little boy. Afraid of what his mommy will say.”

Daeron had already exploded. Fury prickled his body; sweat soaked the suit. He’d throw Osvai out of this pod if he could. His fists clamped together, ready to test just how much of a punch this glass could take.

“You have arrived at your destination,” the pod’s soft female voice said with a ding. “Have a pleasant evening.”

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Harry F. Rey is an author and lover of gay themed stories with a powerful punch with influences ranging from Alan Hollinghurst to Isaac Asimov to George R.R. Martin. He loves all things sci-fi and supernatural, and always with a gay twist. Harry is originally from the UK but lives in Jerusalem, Israel with his husband.

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Plague and Ash by Sita Bethel


Author Sita Bethel and IndiGo Marketing share new paranormal release, Plague and Ash! Read more and enter in the NineStar Press credit giveaway!

Title: Plague and Ash

Author: Sita Bethel

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 12/21/2021

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 69300

Genre: Paranormal, LGBTQIA+, Magic, magic users, interspecies, mythical creatures, zombies, undead, plague, farming, hurt/comfort, illness, disease

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Description

Sarah only went to Oreburn University of Incantations so her parents would stop asking her when she’d settle down. However, after a strange plague decimates her hometown, Sarah finds herself fleeing with the undead chasing her.

As she escapes, she meets Brighid, a half orc noble, and together, they must reach Oreburn before the undead can overrun the city. Sarah discovers a decay sorcerer created the original curse, and only a wizard powerful enough to destroy him can end the plague.

But now they have to find that wizard.

Excerpt

Plague and Ash
Sita Bethel © 2021
All Rights Reserved

Something woke me. I blinked at the morning light peeking through the curtains and cutting rectangles onto the ceiling. Only a corner of the quilt draped over my legs while the rest twisted beside me. I must’ve been thrashing in my sleep again. I hadn’t slept well since I’d come home for harvest break, too worried. After slinging my feet over the edge of the bed, I tucked them into my house shoes to avoid the chilly wooden floor. I heard Mama coughing in the kitchen. The acrid smoke smacked me in the face as soon as I left my room. I waved my hand around my nose.

“Mama?”

“Burned the damn sausage. Did the smoke wake you?” Mama scraped four burnt discs out of her cast iron skillet and into the scrap bowl, but I was sure Buttermilk wouldn’t touch them.

“The coughing,” I admitted.

“Don’t worry, Sarah. It’s the smoke, nothing else. Pops and I have been drinking elderberry juice, and once we’ve harvested all the crops, we’ll hole up through the winter and wait for this to blow over.”

“Biscuits.” I rushed to the oven, using a dish rag to pull out the tin pan before they burned with the sausage.

“Sorry, my mind’s elsewhere.”

“I can help you and Pops harvest if you’re worried.”

“No. We done told you to stay inside with your brothers.”

“The only reason I came home from the School was to help with the harvest, so let me help.”

“Oh, you came home to work? And here I thought you’d want to see your family.”

“Of course I do.” I shoved my fists against my hips. “And help. Why won’t you let me be useful? The sooner you’re done, the sooner we can all spend more time together.”

“Sarah.” Mama plopped her rump onto a nearby stool and rested her elbows on her knees. “We didn’t want you to worry, but…”

“Who’s sick?” Frowning, I crossed my arms over my chest. The towel dangled in my hand.

“Aunt Flora.” Mama turned away. The gas lights made her gray streak flash and made the wrinkles around her mouth deep as weathered cracks splitting wood. “The baby’s got the Fever too.”

“Mama.” I dropped the towel. Crouching low, I roped my arms around her.

“You stay inside, all right?”

“Okay. I’m sorry.”

“It’ll…be all right. I’m sure. Will you re-cook the sausage for me? I need to help your father.”

“Go on.” I pulled a pack of butcher paper out of the ice box and set it on the counter.

“We’ll be home late.” Mama pulled me close to kiss my temple and then walked out the door.

I warshed my hands in the deep, enamel sink. It was only October, but the morning water rushing over my hands was frigid. Hissing, I grabbed another towel and dried them before shaping the ground meat into patties and getting them in a hot skillet. The view from the kitchen window was burnished, sun all orange and fiery as it struck the mist clinging to the yard. Buttermilk crept along the fence line, stalking a field mouse. I hoped she caught it because otherwise it’d be burnt sausage for her.

A shadow slipped through the cluster of pecan trees near the road. At least I thought one did, but when I squinted, I only saw a fat old squirrel cursing at something hiding in the branches above him. I snorted, shook my head, and flipped the sausages. As they browned, I fetched a jar of sorghum molasses and set it on the table with the butter dish. We grew sorghum grain, but Mama always kept enough sweet sorghum in the garden to make syrup for us.

Abel was the first to stumble out of his room. His hair sprayed around his head in dark brown wisps. They took after Mama, but I had Pops’s copper highlights. Last semester, the other girls at the School convinced me to lighten my hair with peroxide, but instead of summer-kissed and sunny, it turned a brassy off-orange, and once my roots grew out, I had Billy take his clippers to it. Now it was a shaggy mess, and I couldn’t wait until it was long enough to pull away from my face.

“Where’s Mama?” Abel asked.

“She went to help Pops. There’s sausage in the skillet.”

“Why does it smell of smoke?”

“Mama burnt the sausage, but I cooked more.” I fixed my own plate and sat on the stool next to the stove, balancing the plate on my lap.

“Did she swear?”

“Yup.”

“Only time I ever hear Mama swear is in the kitchen.”

Abel was right, so I offered a distracted laugh, but I was focused on dipping my biscuit into my sorghum syrup and not his chatter. Abel pulled last night’s sweet tea from the ice box, sat at the table, and shoved his breakfast into his mouth. He chugged half a mason jar’s worth of tea before sighing and setting the glass onto the table.

“I’m gonna go to the pond and get some catfish for dinner.”

“No, you ain’t.” I snorted. We’ve had this conversation damn near every day for three heckin’ weeks.

“I swear I won’t talk to nobody, so let me go.”

“No, you ain’t going. I promised Mama we’d stay inside.”

“Sarah, I’m fourteen. I can handle myself.”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. Was I this stubborn when I argued with Mama? With three of us giving her sass, no wonder she had a gray streak cutting through her hair like a skunk stripe.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Hey there, readers. It’s me, ya boi, Sita Bethel. And this is a biography where I tell you all the boring facts about my life- like how I have a degree in writing, and how my two cats, Odin and Anpu, will one day rule this land as your feline overlords. Enough of that same old, same old. Here’s the real dirt. Sita Bethel likes to wrap up like a burrito with a weighted blanket. They host coloring parties as a personal eff-you to anxiety, and read everything from trash British sensationalist novels like The Moonstone by Wilkie Collins to literary masterpieces like The Color Purple by Alice Walker. Had enough of Sita Bethel yet? If not, check out @sita_bethel on Twitter, or sitabethelfiction on Facebook, or even www.sitabethel.com.

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One lucky winner will receive a $50.00 NineStar Press Gift Code! 

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Stealing the Dragon (Dragon's Hoard #3) by Mell Eight

 

Join author Mell Eight and IndiGo Marketing in celebrating new fantasy release, Stealing the Dragon (Dragon's Hoard #3)! Discover more and enter in the NineStar Press credit giveaway! Good luck!

Title: Stealing the Dragon

Series: Dragon's Hoard, Book Three

Author: Mell Eight

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 12/14/2021

Heat Level: 1 - No Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 26800

Genre: Paranormal, LGBTQIA+, bonded mates, royalty, prison, interspecies, mythical creatures, dragon shifters

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Description

Stealing from a dragon’s hoard is never a bright idea, but stealing from a baby dragon’s hoard can lead to tears, sniffles, and smoke in the middle of a busy marketplace.

Jerney, a witch who does work for a well-known thieves’ guild, knows exactly who’s to blame for the brazen theft. With no other choice in the matter, he quickly becomes entangled in trying to help the baby dragon. What he doesn’t expect is his own heart might get stolen in the process.

Excerpt

Stealing the Dragon
Mell Eight © 2021
All Rights Reserved

“Tori, you’re the only one I can send. I’m sorry.”

Tori looked up from where he was carefully shining his favorite ruby necklace and glared at his human uncle Bast.

“This time you really are the only one. Rex and Jag are both out of the city, and we needed this solved five years ago.”

Uncle Bast’s expression showed real remorse at having to pull Tori from his hoard room, but that didn’t make Tori feel any better. He wasn’t human, regardless of the fact that his shape was. Both of his parents were dragons, and he was the result of an experiment on what would happen if dragons tried to procreate in human form. Instead of being born in dragon shape from an egg, as all dragons were, Tori had been born from a womb in human form as humans were.

The fact that his mother had managed to stay in human form for the requisite nine months surprised Tori every time he went to visit her. Gail was the flightiest of dragons, and sometimes she barely remembered she had two sons and that one of them, Tori, was stuck in human form until he matured enough to shift.

At eighteen, Tori was still a baby dragon. He hadn’t even reached his second decade yet! His older brother Nyle was still considered to be a child, and he had lived for centuries. But humans didn’t understand that Tori should still be cave-bound, barely starting to learn about pretties and his magic. Eighteen years old for a human was considered to be the age of adulthood when young men and women were expected to take on adult responsibilities. Raised among humans, Tori was able to act at least close to that age, but it was hard to pretend maturity sometimes.

Eight months ago, his uncle Bast had forced Tori to take command of a rank of troops. Tori had tried to treat it as an experiment, to see if a dragon could handle warring humans. Needless to say, it had failed, and the humans had blamed Tori as if Tori should have been old enough to understand what had gone wrong.

Three months ago, Bast had given Tori some basic investigation work in the castle. A servant had been stealing the silver. Tori had just shrugged off the investigation entirely. If the humans didn’t consider the silver their hoard, then they had no right to keep someone from taking it. Luckily, even the human servant stealing from the castle had known better than to touch Tori’s small hoard.

There was no way Uncle Bast was sending Tori out on another investigation. Tori would prefer to move in with his big brother Nyle, even if Nyle and Leon were a bit sickening with their snuggling all the time. Tori turned his back on Uncle Bast and went back to polishing his ruby necklace set in gold.

He held it up to his hair, admiring the fact that the red parts of his hair so closely matched the ruby and the gold parts of his hair matched the gold setting. That was another strange thing about him. Tori was stuck in human form until his magic matured enough to allow him a second shape, and instead of solely being gold like his father, Tori had both his parents’ coloring. Being bicolored, red and gold, was odd for a dragon, but it pleased Tori to be so pretty.

“There’s a witch spell casting for the thieves’ guild!” Uncle Bast tried to explain. “They’ve been getting away with crimes for almost ten years. I just need you to locate the witch; that’s all.”

Tori finished polishing his favorite necklace and clasped it around his neck. His glance around the small storeroom filled with his pretties showed that nothing was out of place or in need of polish. Tori stood with a groan and walked over to his small pile of rubies. He felt the urge to curl up on the rubies. There was one advantage to being in human shape: as a dragon, the pile would only serve as a pillow, but as a human, his entire shape would fit on it.

Tori gave into the urge without much thought. He spread a soft blanket to keep the sharp points from digging into his skin and curled up with one hand buried in red and purple brilliance.

“Tori!” Uncle Bast snapped from the doorway. Tori ignored him, and soon enough his uncle sighed as if disappointed and left. Tori snuggled deeper into his blanket and took a nap.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

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.

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One lucky winner will receive a $50.00 NineStar Press Gift Code! Competition hosted by NineStar Press. 

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Finding the Wolf (The Dragon's Hoard #1) by Mell Eight


Author Mell Eight and IndiGo Marketing share today's new release blitz for paranormal romance, Finding the Wolf (The Dragon's Hoard #1)! Dragons and werewolves fans check it out! Don't miss the $10 NineStar Press credit giveaway!

Title: Finding the Wolf

Series: The Dragon's Hoard, Book One

Author: Mell Eight

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 06/14/2021

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 24600

Genre: Paranormal, LGBTQIA+, dragons, werewolves, magic/magic users, interspecies, immortal, royalty, virgin, war

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Description

When Prince Leon disappears, his people turn to the dragons for help. Nyle is the unlucky dragon tasked with finding Leon, a duty he dreads as it forces him into the confounding human world and far away from his collection of pretties.

Locating a missing prince should be a simple matter, but if Nyle has learned anything about humans since being forced among them, it’s that they needlessly complicate everything. When he finally locates the errant prince, however, what Nyle finds is a treasure worth all the complications—and worth protecting at any cost.

Excerpt

Finding the Wolf
Mell Eight © 2021
All Rights Reserved

Nyle walked through the crowded bazaar with an eye on his coin purse. He had heard stories of humans who stole such things and did not wish to be the first of his kind to experience such ill luck.

He also kept an eye on the crowds. He doubted he would locate his quarry on his first foray into the human market, but there were clues he could find by simply being aware.

For example, the way the fishmonger in the corner stall blatantly gripped his meat cleaver as a group of ragged children exited an alleyway and dispersed into the bustle was probably a good indicator. Nyle would keep an eye on those children—they might have something to do with the disappearances of purses—but the man at the fish stall might have some interesting information. Nyle decided to head there first.

Someone jostled Nyle on their way toward a dour woman selling ribbons and beads across the way. He grimaced and held back a growl. They were humans, creatures clearly not versed in the niceties of society, and while their ignorance didn’t excuse them, it did allow Nyle to rationalize not taking the oafs who rudely bumped him to task. He had a job, and giving in to the urge to roar and breathe flames was not conducive to completing his task.

Nyle was dressed like a human. A loose pair of pants and a shirt that laced up the front comprised his costume, and if the fabric was of a tighter weave than the rest of the local class of humans, at least he looked the part.

“I’m searching for a young man,” Nyle said when he reached the wooden stall covered in fish. The fishmonger had known which children to watch. Perhaps he would also know Nyle’s target.

“Yeah?” the man asked. “Well, I haven’t seen any men around today.” He looked straight at Nyle, a male and only one of dozens who frequented the market, as he spoke.

Nyle guessed that was what humans called digging for incentives. His own kind didn’t much care for the art of blackmail.

Nyle reached into his carefully guarded purse and brought out two uncut copper coins, each enough to buy a small fish. He flashed the coins at the man and leaned forward.

“A tall man with very long black hair and blue eyes,” Nyle said as he pressed one coin to the wood surface of the stall.

The coin vanished into a gut-stained hand. “I seen him two days ago,” the man replied, eyes fixed greedily on the coin Nyle still held. “Not since then.”

Nyle set the second coin on the stall, but kept a finger on it. “Any idea where he could have gone? Or who else I could ask?”

The man tensed and kept his gaze fixed on the second coin as if he knew not to look into Nyle’s gold-colored eyes. Nyle slowly dragged the coin away from the man.

“The red-light district,” the man gasped out as if forced, his eyes stuck on the shiny coin. “You ask round there.”

Nyle released the coin, and the copper flashed in the late-morning sun. The fish man’s eyes remained riveted for another second before he shook himself free of the compulsion. The second coin vanished as quickly as the first, and the man looked up and caught Nyle’s eyes.

A mistake, but Nyle would use the fish man’s ignorance to his advantage.

“That boy ain’t right,” the man slurred, caught in the golden shine that filled the eyes of all Nyle’s kind. “Wild,” he continued, spilling everything he knew to the sheen in Nyle’s eyes, “as if a beast were trying to break free and fly away.”

Nyle blinked and looked away as the man sagged behind his booth. Nyle wasn’t feeling in top form either now. Catching someone with his eyes was more effective than using copper, but it cost him so much more magic. Nyle decided to return home for some rest before heading to the red-light district. Besides, he had heard humans preferred the nighttime for such activities.

Nyle didn’t really understand humans, but he was still young and would learn all there was to know eventually.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

 

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

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Altered Tides (The Galactic Captains #5) by Harry F. Rey

Author Harry F. Rey and IndiGo Marketing host today's blitz for the latest in science fiction series, Altered Tides (The Galactic Captains #5)! Find out more and enter in the $10 NineStar Press credit giveaway! 

Title: Altered Tides

Series: The Galactic Captains, Book Five

Author: Harry F. Rey

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 03/01/2021

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 72600

Genre: Science Fiction, LGBTQIA+, Action/adventure, aliens, dark, M/M romance, #ownvoices, pirates, reunited, royalty, sci-fi/futuristic, space, folklore, gods, intercultural, interspecies, merman, war of worlds, religious extremism

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Description

A malfunctioning STAR drive strands Captain Ales in a new galaxy. Trapped on a dry, dusty red moon where the rains fall only once every forty years, the restless population barely survives on a teardrop ration of water. Now, the rains are years overdue, and the ruling clerics view Ales as a savior—or a devil. Just as Ales and the She-King’s brother discover a secret the clerics have been hiding for far too long, this world is invaded and torn apart from a most unlikely source.

The blue moon is a world covered in water—water that flows over to the red moon as rain every forty years, thereby drying up the domain of King Sarlord. He’s finally had enough and gathers an army to sail into the sky on the waterspout, land on the red moon, and defeat the god who steals his ocean. His son, Prince Malar, will do anything to avoid staying behind, but even he gets much more than he bargained for when the world as he knows it is swept away on altered tides.

Excerpt

Altered Tides
Harry F. Rey © 2021
All Rights Reserved

The girl lifted her eyes over the dry, dusty horizon bathed in a sandy haze. She blinked through the pain, through the dryness, as she always did. On the shore of an ancient seabed, the girl kicked clumps of dust heaped on the ground like forgotten eggs that had never hatched. They fell apart with barely a touch. There was no water to hold the dust together. No rain fell to fill the sea nor waves to break against the shoreline.

She’d last had water two nights ago. Her father gave her and her four sisters their one allotted teardrop of stale, salty liquid. Two for the baby; although even her mother, Sanhelda, said it was a waste. The baby would not live till the rains came—if they ever did.

Out here by the cliffs along the empty shore, she could at least get away from the cries of thirst that haunted the village throughout the baking days and stuffy nights. Their settlement was not a wealthy one. They lived far from the city with its water vats. Although her father’s brother had returned from the city a few nights before with the news even those had run dry. Rations had fallen to one teardrop per day. Hoarders went without. Soldiers patrolled the dusty streets, but they couldn’t prevent the nightly gatherings outside the palace of the She-King. The people were thirsty, and they were starting to blame the drought on her.

The girl knew this was nonsense. The king did not control the rains. According to the clerics, the goddess Aquina sent the rain from the blue moon in the sky. Although her mother, always a practical woman, said the rains came when their world was perfectly aligned with the blue moon. The king didn’t control the movement of stars and moons, the girl knew that much, nor was the gender of the King stopping the clouds from forming and the rains from filling up the cenotes, the water pits and boreholes, despite what most people now thought.

The girl bent over and scooped a clump of dust from the ground. Gazing into the hazy sky, she rubbed the dust into her cracked lips, soothing the broken skin. The girl wondered what she would do if she were king. She’d never wondered that before she knew a woman had taken the throne.

The rains came once in forty years. The entire system of life on these dusty plains depended on this climactic event. When it did rain, the water filled the vats and boreholes, every drop saved and stored and rationed because everyone knew the water had to last another forty years. Whatever was wasted evaporated in the stifling heat. Whatever was used disappeared into the dusty ground the clerics expressly forbade any person to dig into. Disobeying the clerics meant going a week or more without a teardrop to drink.

The clerics spoke with the gods and calculated each family’s allowance of bottles. Families planned the children they could have and the crops they could grow with the aqua supply front of mind. Donating a little bit extra to the clerics was never a bad idea, though. If the gods pronounced, speaking through a cleric of course, that a person was destined to die before the blue moon rose again in the night sky, the water rations of the condemned individual would be cut to nothing. There was no water to waste on the dying.

It had happened to the girl’s uncle a few years back. He’d had an argument with their local cleric over something obscure that old men passed their time by squabbling over—the price of beets, perhaps. But the cleric won the argument by foretelling her uncle’s sudden death within the month. The family fretted; his wife and children terrified their provider would have a sudden accident. They drastically cut their own rations to keep him alive and at home, even as their crops rotted in the field. Eventually, after much scrambling and scraping and late night discussions on how much the wider family could afford to spend, they managed to sell off a valuable young calf at market in the city in exchange for a bottle of fermented beet wine. The cleric dutifully accepted the sacrifice to the gods, and after returning one night from the sacred temple, his lips stained red and speech slurred from the beet wine, had pronounced to an anxious family that he had interceded with the gods on their behalf, and her uncle would not fall foul to an accident after all. His rations were restored, although their crops went to ruin and the calf they had been counting on to provide milk for three new babies had been sold off for tender meat, but at least her uncle would live. Could live, indeed, now he had water to drink. Such were the petty tyrannies of life under the clerics.

But life was not all terrible. In the thirty-ninth year, a great celebration was held in advance of the coming rains in the fortieth year. A diligent population suffering from a generation of thirst had their rations increased. The clerics and their influential friends would feast and crack open vintage bottles of beet wine as soon the rains would come and replenish their cisterns and water bores.

That had been two parched years ago.

The old king refused to believe anything was wrong and ordered the populace to continue swigging and feasting because the rains could not be far off, the clerics had assured him. That king was dead, and his daughter now sat on the clay throne.

The girl couldn’t believe people could be so shortsighted as to blame someone who was only trying to do her best. The She-King diligently slashed the rations of the clerics and soldiers down to the same as the general populace: one teardrop per day. She’d banned all travel and commerce to prevent thirst, and called on all pregnancies to be prevented while the world remained dry.

Otherwise, there was little else that could be said or done except to gather each night and stare into the clear black sky and pray for it to darken with clouds.

Standing on the bone-dry shore, the girl could only hope. In the distance, something caught her eye. A fiery flash in the sky blazed a trail of false clouds across the blue moon rising from the horizon. She blinked away the haze in her vision, not understanding what she saw, and took a step closer to the edge of the empty sea.

Whatever it was sliced through the dusty atmosphere and left a trail of smoke in its wake. Was this rain? She did not know what rain was meant to look like, but from the stories her parents and grandparents had told her, this didn’t seem like rain.

The dusty rocks underfoot dislodged and crumbled down the cliff edge, and she held back a bare foot in caution. Yet something drew her forward. She needed to know what this fiery thing shining like a metal star was. Had their god Calini returned? Perhaps he had come from the blue moon after forging a peace with the goddesses Aquina and Terrina, and ending this long drought. The gods were fighting, so the clerics had quickly explained as to the reason why the rains refused to fall, and they must all be diligent in their prayers and listen to the men lest the evil goddesses seep into their minds and turn them wicked.

The girl glanced back at the open plain, but there was no one else around. Not in the heat of the day, at least. Biting her broken lip and tasting dust, she decided to climb down the short distance and make her way toward the streak in the sky, tumbling ever closer to the ground.

By the time she got close to the bottom, the bright shiny streak had nearly disappeared from view. As her foot landed onto the cracked ground, a shudder rumbled through the rock. Or even through the very world.

The girl peered forward, tracing the rock line of the other side of the sea shore, looking for lumps or sites of impact. Then she saw it, a plume of dark black smoke snaking into the hazy sky. It looked to be just beyond the cliff edge. Glancing back once more, the girl wondered what to do. What would the She-King do? Would she rush back to the village and alert the sleeping elders? They would just bring more people from the city to come and investigate, priests and soldiers, people who would need to drink.

She could ignore it and turn back now. Pretend like nothing had happened. But her curiosity would never forgive her. And that was a coward’s way out. The She-King would never ignore a mystery such as this.

Suddenly her throat did not seem so dry. Her vision cleared with a flush of cleansing tears, and a spurt of energy rushed through her muscles like she’d just swigged a whole bottle dry. Without trepidation, without fear, the girl put one foot forward on the scarred and empty seabed and walked toward the mystery beyond.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Harry F. Rey is an author and lover of gay themed stories with a powerful punch with influences ranging from Alan Hollinghurst to Isaac Asimov to George R.R. Martin. He loves all things sci-fi and supernatural, and always with a gay twist. Harry is originally from the UK but lives in Jerusalem, Israel with his husband.

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Review: A Dragon’s Fortune (The Magic Emporium) by Sam Burns & W.M. Fawkes

Cillian Roarke is the world’s sweetest dragon. He’s a great boss, a good person, and he spends his days making honey-glazed caramel treats in the shape of bunnies for his bakery, Honey Bunny. Still, the highlight of every day is watching the adorable college student who’s Much Too Young For Him stuff his face full of Cillian’s sweet buns.

Finnick West is a college student who dreams of baked goods, much to the consternation of his figure-skating partner. She’s not offended by the temptation, but by Finnick’s continuing failure to ask out the cute baker. With pressure from all sides, Finn knows it’s time to take something for himself, if only he can catch Hot Baker’s eye.

While the two of them work up the nerve to ask each other out, an assassination attempt reveals forces working to not only stop their interspecies romance in its tracks, but destroy everything and everyone they love.

A Dragon’s Fortune is part of the Magic Emporium Series. Each book stands alone, but each one features an appearance by Marden’s Magic Emporium, a shop that can appear anywhere, but only once and only when someone’s in dire need. This book contains dragons, ice skating, a whole bunch of sugar, and a guaranteed HEA.


Another sweet edition to this series of completely stand alone, but interconnected, novels all touched by the intervention of the peculiar Magic Emporium.

As per the blurb, Finn has been crushing hard on the reticent owner of the The Honey Bunny. Not only does Finn love every delicious concoction that Cillian creates, he’s smitten on the guy even though they’ve barely spoken a word.

Cillian in turn, is reluctant to start anything because he’s hiding a pretty big secret. He’s in the closet - not because he’s gay but because he’s a dragon, and he fears the inherent prejudices of being such could possibly interfere with his comfortable life. However, Cillian’s wish for anonymity is crushed when an assassination attempt is made on his highly public figure of a brother, so when the truth comes out, this has unforeseen consequences as Finn’s unknown shady past comes to the fore. Suddenly, both these men have some very difficult decisions to make as to whether or not they’ll allow biology to dictate their lives and whether the other is worth fighting for.

Overall, I enjoy this author duo, both together and separately (shout out to Fire and Valor!), but I typically equate a more simplistic storytelling with Burns. Though this sets up the world building and sociopolitical implications that come with in-the-know humans living with other supernaturals, I felt the plot lines regarding both Cillian being a dragon and Finn’s mysterious background were not fully realized.

Having said that, Cillian and Finn are the nicest guys around, and they’re obviously perfectly perfect for each other. This had some good bones and ends on a solid HFN for these two but leaves broader plot threads dangling which would benefit from a sequel that we probably won’t get. Regardless, fans of Burns and Fawkes should not skip their latest foray into urban fantasy! Enjoy!




Release Blitz + Giveaway: Love Logan by Tilly Keyes


Author Tilly Keyes and IndiGo Marketing visit with the Love Logan release blitz! Find out more about the science fiction romance and enter in the $10 NineStar Press credit giveaway! 

Title: Love Logan

Author: Tilly Keyes

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: 12/21/2020

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 69100

Genre: Science Fiction, LGBTQIA+, time travel, action/adventure, enemies to lovers, humorous, interspecies

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Description

Zero’s teleportation machine is the talk of the town, but opening night, it fails, leaving him a laughingstock. However, unknowingly, the machine pulls someone from the twentieth century and spits them out in Zero’s time.

Logan has strange, dull clothing and bland hair, and when he opens his mouth, it gets worse. He’s afraid of everything, but worst of all, his talk of love grates on Zero’s nerves.

He vows to fix the machine and send Logan home no matter what. Zero’s best friend, Honey, has other ideas. Despite Logan being terrified of her and labeling her a cat-person, she finds his talk of love enlightening.

With Logan about to go home, Zero needs to realize there’s more to life than going down in history before it’s too late.

Excerpt

Love Logan
Tilly Keyes © 2020
All Rights Reserved

Each shuffle of clothing and stomp of impatient feet increased Zero’s thumping heart. The curtain muffled the words of the audience, but they increased in volume until a unified grumble shook Zero’s bones. Being ten minutes late was part of his plan to build anticipation, but he hadn’t envisioned the wait would have him close to fainting from nerves.

Zero pursed his lips and exhaled slowly. He brushed his sweat-soaked palms on his suit, then removed his top hat and wiped his brow on his sleeve. He wanted to wear something more flamboyant with tassels and twinkling lights, but he softened his look and chose a stripped black-and-silver suit, and his trusty black top hat. The night was all about his invention, and he dressed down to put all emphasis on it.

“This is such a bad idea.”

Honey’s words pulled him from his thoughts, and he turned to her, widening his eyes.

“You’re here for support, not to further my anxiety.”

Zero could see her normal ellipse shaped pupils had narrowed to a line of black, splitting her lime irises in two. She was afraid for him, and he couldn’t deny that fear when his heart tried to escape his chest.

“If—If only you’d tested the machine.”

Zero pushed his hat firmly on his head. “I have tested it.”

“But never like this. You haven’t done this with a living thing—”

“It will work,” Zero said.

Honey gripped his arm. “But what if it doesn’t?”

He frowned and glanced at her paw that gripped his arm. She blinked then retracted her claws with a softly spoken apology.

“This is my moment. I can feel it in my bones. My life is about to change.”

“Dying is life changing, life ending,” she replied.

Zero shook his head. “I won’t die—hopefully I won’t die, and if I do, I hope it will be quick.”

“What if you walk through and only half of you appears on the other side?”

Zero lifted his hand and tilted it one way and then the other. “Well, if that happens, I’ll die quickly, so it’s not so bad.”

Honey hissed and flattened her ears. “Don’t make jokes.”

“I wasn’t joking,” he said, turning to face her. “If it goes wrong and I die, then you know I died doing what meant the most to me. Besides, I couldn’t live with the shame of a failure, so let’s hope it is either roaring success and I appear in the opposite arch or it’s unable to put my atoms back together and I die instantly.”

Honey shut her eyes and bowed forward. Zero rubbed at her arms, but she didn’t straighten to look at him. She sagged further.

“I can’t go out there until I see your smile,” he whispered.

She sniffled and shook her head. “I don’t feel like smiling.”

“Please Honey, for me. I need to see it. You’re my lucky charm.”

“Fine,” she said with a huff. “But you better not die.”

Zero thought better than making that promise. It was a strong possibility, not that he admitted it to her.

Honey lifted her head and twitched her cheeks. Her nose rose, and two daggered teeth showed through her narrow lips.

“Thank you,” Zero said.

The second the words left him, her smile dropped, and she breathed heavily through her nose.

“Right,” he said and clutched his lapels. “Here I go.”

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read

Meet the Author

Tilly lives in a small village in the UK, surrounded by fields, and meadows. By day, she’s looks after her two lively boys, but by night…she’s usually asleep, too exhausted to write, but sometimes she gets lucky, sometimes she settles down with a nice cup of tea and sinks into a story. 

She hopes you enjoy them. Let her know by sending her an eMail.

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Release Blitz + Giveaway: Damned If You Don't by Hairann

Author Hairann and IndiGo Marketing celebrate the release of Damned If You Don't! Find out more about the fantasy romance and enter in the $10 NineStar Press credit giveaway! 

Title: Damned If You Don’t

Author: Hairann

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: October 12, 2020

Heat Level: 3 - Some Sex

Pairing: Male/Male

Length: 94800

Genre: Paranormal, NineStar Press, LGBTQIA+, folklore, immortal, royalty, soulmates, mythical creatures, interspecies, virgin, magic

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Synopsis

All Erabus ever wanted was to stay out of his brother’s way, to let him become king after their father, and spend his life hunting in the forest outside the kingdom. That all changes when he uncovers the plot to kill his father. Erabus will do whatever it takes to save him, even forming an alliance with a strange ally named Xicuz—an incredibly gorgeous satyr he met in the forest.

If things aren’t complicated enough, Erabus soon finds himself tangled up in a deal with a devil that puts the lives of the people closest to him in danger. He learns that sometimes you have to fight fire with fire and makes a deal of his own—one that will save the love of his life, but forfeit half of his own to do so.

Excerpt

Excerpt
Damned If You Don’t
Hairann © 2020
All Rights Reserved

Warning: This excerpt may contain sexually explicit material, please proceed at your discretion.

The sun only just began to rise as Erabus made his way through the thick forest, his footfalls inaudible on the damp leaf-carpeted ground. He held his bow with an arrow notched and ready to fire as he navigated around one cluster of trees and then another. The sounds from the other hunters faded into the distance. They made far more noise than they should if they expected to catch anything.

Putting the far less skilled hunters from his mind, he paused to sniff the fresh forest air, filling his nose with the strong scents of pine and moss. He smiled at how the scents calmed him and continued in search of any deer that might have passed through the area recently. Though if the others continued to rustle around and break branches, he doubted they would remain in the vicinity for long. Erabus tuned them out once more as he crouched to the ground and removed debris from an indention in the dirt.

He traced the imperfect print with the pad of his index finger. Deer or perhaps a goat down from the mountain. The print didn’t cause a deep enough indent to tell for sure which. The only thing he was confident about was the freshness of the print. With any luck, the animal would still be nearby, and Erabus was determined to catch it before the others could alert it to their presence. Careful to walk on the pads of his feet to reduce what little noise he made, he followed the prints farther into the forest until he heard the rustling of leaves coming from the other side of a cluster of trees that grew so close together he couldn’t see through them.

He parted the branches as much as he dared, waiting only long enough to spot the horns before carefully releasing the branch and taking aim through the trees. Though his target wasn’t visible from his current position, he knew roughly where the deer stood and took aim to the right and down a bit from where its horns should end. He inhaled as he pulled the string taut and released the arrow at the same time as his breath. The arrow pierced the air with an audible whoosh.

The gentle thud of the arrow striking wood came only a moment before a voice called out in alarm, startling Erabus. He barely caught his bow as he dropped it. Had another hunter made it out farther than I realized? But he’d seen the horns. Confused, he shouldered his bow to investigate when a voice called out, “Watch what you are doing!”

“I’m so sorry, sir. I swear I saw horns,” Erabus insisted as he fell through the thicket. He took a moment to right himself before turning his eyes on the man he came inches from shooting. Only it wasn’t a man standing before him. A foot away from where his arrow struck the tree stood a creature with the body and face of a man but the legs, hooves, tail, and ears of a goat. Most importantly, the horns of one too.

Staring at him in shock, Erabus gave him another once-over, noticing for the first time the loincloth that covered his lower bits from his view. He barely managed to squeak out a stuttered, “You’re…you’re a…” before snapping his lips closed once more when he realized his mind refused to supply him with the words he searched for.

The being before him smirked before offering in a deep, warm voice, “The word you are looking for is a satyr. It’s a good thing you are as bad a shot as you are a speaker.” Erabus glanced from the satyr to where the arrow stood embedded in the tree behind him. He realized just how wrong he was. It was true his arrow missed him, but he had not been the target.

“Look again, sir, my aim was true,” Erabus said, his confidence returning. “If you were a deer, as I first thought, the arrow would have struck between your shoulder blades.” He crossed his arms and gave him a smug look.

The satyr’s silver eyes widened as he looked at the arrow. “It is a good thing I am not an animal then. Though how you ever confused these beauts with deer antlers, I will never know.”

Erabus looked at the satyr’s horns once more. The satyr was right.

Where a deer’s antlers would have been large and branched out in every direction, he had two single arches on either side of his forehead, larger and thicker than a mountain goat’s. There was no excuse for his mistake—he should have looked more carefully before he shot. However, he wasn’t willing to admit it.

“You should be careful, sir. You shouldn’t be wandering around in the human hunting area.” It wasn’t right to blame his mistake on his near victim, but in his embarrassment, Erabus couldn’t stand the thought of shouldering all the blame himself.

“Actually, sir,” the satyr countered, his sir sounding an octave higher than the rest, “you have crossed over into the land designated for the satyrs when our kings met ten years ago. It is you that should be careful.”

It took him a moment to compose himself. Was the satyr threatening him? He doubted it but couldn’t be sure. Erabus opened his mouth to insist he would have known if they crossed the border onto their land, but his words caught in his throat at the sound of the hunters’ voices coming from the other side of the trees. Some bragged about the game they caught others complaining about, being unlucky in their hunt.

One called out for him, no doubt wanting his help to carry back their game as opposed to being worried about his absence. The hunters would soon overtake them, and they would not react well to finding a satyr on “their” land.

Erabus slapped a hand over the satyr’s mouth and pushed him back against a tree, hiding the two of them in the shadows. He pressed his lips close to the satyr’s pointed goat-like ear that twitched as Erabus’s breath tickled it with each whispered word. “Do not make a sound unless you want the hunters to find you.” Erabus glanced over his shoulder, barely able to make out the hunters as they made their way passed their hiding spot.

Erabus sighed in relief once the last of them disappeared back into the forest, heading toward home. He waited another moment to be sure before he turned back to the satyr and found his face an inch or two from his own. Erabus swallowed hard when he realized how close his lips were to his own, with only his hand separating them.

Before he could find the words to assure him it was safe now, something hot and wet dragged across his palm. He jumped back in shock. “You licked my hand!” he accused in disbelief, staring down at the moist spot on his palm.

The satyr smirked. “Would you prefer I licked something else instead?” He licked his lips and looked Erabus up and down.

Was he serious? Erabus began a stuttered reply, but he was saved from having to give an actual answer by a horn blowing in the distance.

The satyr sighed in disappointment before glancing off in the direction of the horn. “Alas, I shall not be able to hear your answer this time, sir.” He gave him a slight yet exaggerated bow before smirking at him again. “Next time then.”

Erabus didn’t know if he said it as a parting or in reference to when he would be getting the answer from him. Before Erabus could respond, the satyr disappeared into the forest.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Books2Read Universal Link

Meet the Author

Hairann is the author of the Outlaw Seven series. She is an out and proud Pan who lives with her amazing family in Montreal. She’s worked as a ghostwriter on Fiverr since 2018 and has an Associate’s degree in early childhood education. She invites you to follow @AuthorHairann on Twitter.

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