Showing posts with label Sionnach Wintergreen. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Sionnach Wintergreen. Show all posts

Blog Tour + Giveaway: Carillon's Curse by Sionnach Wintergreen

 

The Carillon's Curse blog tour makes a stop here today! Author Sionnach Wintergreen and Other Worlds Ink share info on the new Western paranormal thriller! And they're hosting a $20 Amazon gift card giveaway!

 

Carillon's Curse - Sionnach Wintergreen

Sionnach Wintergreen has a new MM Western paranormal thriller out: Carillon's Curse. And there's a giveaway!

In 1888 Austin, Texas, a shy medium with clubfoot is visited by the grisly spirits of murdered children and enlists the help of a rugged Texas Ranger to pursue their killer. As the two men hunt the murderer, they find themselves not only in the grip of a taboo love that could—at best—send them to prison, but also in danger of becoming the killer’s next prey.

In the twenty three years of his life, Thomas Carillon has known nothing but unrequited love. People don’t notice him; they only notice his clubfoot. He has given himself up to a solitary existence with only the companionship of his cat and the ghosts who visit him. When a rare child ghost, her massive injuries evident, asks Thomas for help, the only law man that will listen is a hard-bitten Texas Ranger who reawaken’s Thomas’s secret desires. The two grow closer as they chase the killer, but can they hold onto their fragile, budding love in such hard times?

Hadrian Burton thinks Thomas looks like an angel, except for whatever horror he’s hiding in that strange boot. Temporarily leaving life on the range and his complicated past to track down a killer with Thomas, Hadrian finds himself doing something he vowed never to do again—falling in love. Their “congress,” as Thomas calls it, is more intense than he has ever experienced. After a lifetime of virginity, the clubfooted man is going wild, and he doesn’t balk at Hadrian’s unconventional appetites. But Hadrian fears he will only hurt Thomas in the end. And yet, he has never fallen so hard for another man. How can he keep both his and Thomas’s hearts from being broken? And how can he bring the elusive Child Slayer to justice with only the help of a medium and ghosts?

Get it On Amazon


Giveaway

Sionnach Wintergreen is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this reveal:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47216/?


Excerpt

Carillon's Curse

Friday, January 27

Austin, Texas

Thomas Carillon set down his teacup as he watched his cat, Gracie, lift up from his lap in a black and white ruffle of fur, her ghost puff. She had sensed a presence. He sighed. Ghosts never respected his privacy. He enjoyed helping them, but sometimes they demanded attention—usually when he wanted to be alone in his drawing room. “Is it more Confederates? I’m so tired of goddamned Confederates. It’s always ‘what did I die for’ and telling them, ‘not a damn thing’ doesn’t send them off to the Great Beyond.”

Thomas smoothed Gracie’s rumpled coat. It was thick and wispy at the same time, too short to call long and too long to call short. Consequently, the only time it laid flat was when Thomas sleeked it back with his hand, and then it only stayed down for a few seconds. This excited burst of hair, of course, was different. Gracie’s ghost puff. He was the medium, true enough, but Gracie always saw ghosts first, and it was this distinctive puff of hair and body that announced every spectral visitor to Carillon House.

“Show yourself, spirit. I sense your presence and will endeavor to listen to your tale.” He left out that Gracie was truly the one who sensed the specter’s presence. Gracie, for all her intuitiveness, couldn’t speak to ghosts. That was his talent.

This spirit didn’t have the distrust or sudden coyness displayed by most of the ghosts who called on him. This one appeared right beside the arm of his wingback chair. She flickered, wan and bloodless. His breath caught in his throat, and his chest tightened. Seeing a spirit rarely triggered one of his asthma attacks anymore, but the ones who had suffered terrible injuries still affected him.

“You are Mister Carillon” asked the girl. He didn’t usually see child ghosts. Something about them, perhaps their innocence, allowed them to cross over without all of the problems that burdened adults and kept them bond to the realm of the living.

She looked about five years old with duckling blonde hair done up in curls atop her head and crowned with a large red bow. Dirt and blood-stained white lace gloves were the only article of clothing she wore. She held her bowels in her arms as if cradling a large bouquet.

“Yes. Yes, I’m Mr. Carillon. Please, call me Thomas.” He tried to right himself. Whatever had happened to this child, he knew she meant him no harm. People were scared of ghosts, but the most fearful beings wore flesh and skin flushed with blood. “What is your name, my child?”

“Rebecca. The pretty painted ladies told me to come here.”

The whores. All of the whores liked him. They knew he wasn’t like the men who plagued them in life. Homosexuals spent as little time as possible with naked females—and they certainly didn’t pay to do so. He had helped some cross over and entertained with the others. A number of them didn’t want to cross over, content to haunt men and make them impotent or help him impress rich old women at séances.

“Rebecca. That’s a lovely name.” He could have used a sip of tea, but Rebecca’s condition made his stomach shiver. “What brings you to seek me out?”

“I like your cat.”

“Do you? Thank you. Yes, she is a rather nice cat.”

“What’s her name?”

He was thankful most children crossed over. He wasn’t accustomed to dealing with them. He hadn’t understood them even when he was one. At twenty-three, he should have been starting his own family, but he didn’t call on women. He knew they wouldn’t have wanted to marry him even if he had courted one. The two his mother had tried to collect for him had practically run away. “Her name is Gracie.”

Rebecca giggled, holding twists of guts as easily as she might lift a skirt. “That’s a funny name for a cat!”

“She’s a funny cat. Tell me, dear, what happened to you?”

She sobered. “He hurt me. He hurt my private places, then he cut me with his knife.”

A burst of anger flared bright and hot in Thomas’s face.

Rebecca cringed. “Please, don’t be angry, Mister.”

His grief at her condition and her fear fanned the flames of his asthma. He fought for a breath. A small wheeze escaped him. “I’m not angry at you. Not even a trifle. Tell me, Rebecca, tell me who he is.”

“His knife was the biggest knife I’ve ever seen. It was much bigger than his.... He hurt me.”

Raw fury tightened his chest more than asthma. He fought to keep his voice even, not wishing to frighten the child. A Bowie knife—that could have belonged to nearly half the men in Austin. He needed more information. “Did you know him?”

She shook her head negatively, curls bouncing. “I was playing with Sarah and Rose outside Rose’s house. Her house is next door, but Sarah lives on another street. He came up and wanted to tell us a Bible story. I didn’t like it. It was about Lot. He said I needed to come with him because my mother said so, but we didn’t go see my mother. We went to some place where cows are, and he did things to me. And chickens. There were chickens there, too. The black spotty kind. I like those.”

Thomas went ahead and helped himself to his tea. He drained his cup despite its coolness, and set it back down. “I’ll go see the Marshal,” he said gently. Maybe, if he was truly fortunate, the police would discover her corpse so her poor mother could bury her. “That was a terrible man, but no one is going to hurt you anymore, Rebecca. What happened to you in life didn’t happen to your spirit body. Think about how you usually looked.”

As she thought, her ghostly flesh righted itself, and she became well and whole, although she was still a specter, pale and flickering like a candle flame. She wore a pretty, lacy frock and was a lovely little girl. Thomas smiled at her. “There, that’s better, isn’t it?”

He was about to try to send her to the Great Beyond, when she chirped, “What about the boy?”

“What boy?”

“The boy in the barn. The man brought him there after he hurt me. Before he cut me. He hurt the boy, too. The boy was a tiddy baby, but I didn’t call him one. He wouldn’t stop crying. I don’t want the man to cut him, though.”

Thomas tapped his shoulder. Gracie, who had been quiet in his lap, leapt on his shoulder and balanced as he grabbed his cane from against the chair and stood. Even with the special boot, the clubfoot was a menace. It kept his bed empty and his heart forever yearning.

“What are you doing?” asked Rebecca.

We’re going to see the police.” He reached into his vest and pulled out his pocket watch. He opened it and showed it to Rebecca. “You can ride in here, and I’ll let you out when we talk to the Marshal.”

She tilted her head to the side. “It’s a special watch?”

He smiled. “It was my great grandfather’s. It’s very special to me. I don’t know why it works the way it does, but I can carry two spirits in it if they are so inclined.”

“And Gracie’s going, too?”

“Gracie goes everywhere I go. Always.” He actually went precious few places, preferring the quiet seclusion of his home.

Gracie blinked at the girl with a slow bat of her black lashes. A cat kiss. A blessing.

Rebecca’s face broke out in a huge grin. “Then I’ll go, too.” She turned to a white mist and disappeared into the watch. Thomas put it in his pocket and shuffled toward the foyer. Despite his confidence when speaking with the girl, a chill licked down his spine. He hoped they could find the boy before he became a specter as well.


Author Bio

Sionnach Wintergreen

I’m Sionnach (pronounced SHUHN ukh) and I’m a trans male author (he/him) of romance and fantasy. Most of my books are gay romances because they’re so much fun to write. Opposites attract is my favorite trope with hurt/comfort right behind it. Few things are as fun to me as bringing men to life and pushing them into each other’s arms. I love happily ever afters and believe true love is absolutely real.

Before I started writing full time, I volunteered as a grant writer for animal rescue nonprofits. I love animals, and they inevitably find their way into my stories. I share my life with my husband and seven spoiled cats. I’m also the emotional support human to a husky.

Author Website: https://www.SionnachWintergreen.com

Author Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/everwintergreen/

Author Twitter: https://www.twitter.com/everwintergreen

Author Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/sionnachwintergreen

Author Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15258737.Sionnach_Wintergreen

Author QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/sionnach-wintergreen/

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Sionnach-Wintergreen/e/B01FOU8PS4

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Blog Tour + Giveaway: Infernal Hope (Love Songs for Lost Worlds #3) by Sionnach Wintergreen


It's the final tour stop for Infernal Hope (Love Songs for Lost Worlds #3)! Author Sionnach Wintergreen and Other Worlds Ink share not only more info about the paranormal series finale, there is also a $15 Amazon gift card giveaway! Don't miss out!

Infernal Hope - Sionnach Wintergreen

Sionnach Wintergreen has a new MM paranormal historical fantasy romance out, Love Songs for Lost Worlds book 3: Infernal Hope. And there's a giveaway!

Ex-necromancer Frank Hope risked his life to help his demon lover Kasimir return to his homeland, a dimension humans call Hell and Kasimir calls the Eternal Realm—a beautiful medievalesque land. Now, because Kasimir is the heir apparent to a vast, wealthy kingdom, the two live in luxury in a palace by the sea. But darkness haunts them.

Necromancers, humans sworn to capture and slay demons for Earth’s energy corporations to use as fuel, continue to strike the Eternal Realm. Strife between the Eternals’ kingdoms grows as well.

When war breaks out with a neighboring land, Frank and Kasimir are forced to make hard choices that threaten their relationship—and even their lives. Is their love truly meant to be? Will the universe that once smiled upon them turn against them?

This is the final book in the Love Songs for Lost Worlds trilogy and combines elements of fantasy, paranormal, and gay romance within the framework of an alternate 1980s world.

Warnings: Violence, gay bashing, suicidal ideation, foul language, explicit sex, light bondage, vomiting, suicide attempt and sexual assault

About the Series:

Kasimir, a demon boy, secretly watched a human boy, Frank through an interdimensional window. While Kasimir struggled with an abusive father, Frank grieved his father’s death. Little Kasimir watched...and fell I’m love.

Years later, Frank, who always felt like a loser, discovers he has a special power—commanding demons. That’s a valuable skill to corporations like DemonCo who slay and process demons to be used as fuel. When fate brings Kasimir and Frank together, they meet as enemies, but Kasimir believes they are destined to be lovers.

With themes of redemption, courage, and true love, this paranormal fantasy series is set in an alternate 1980’s Texas and the mystical Eternal Realm.

Get It At Amazon

Book One | Book Two


Giveaway

Sionnach is giving away a $15 Amazon gift card with this tour:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47184/?


Excerpt

Palace of the Kingdom of the Onyx Moon

Kasimir

I hold Frank in the dark. He still has dreams of his former life, nightmares. He doesn’t usually wake up, he just fights things in his sleep, moving jerkily and making unintelligible noises. I put my arms around him and snuggle him against my chest. After a few minutes, he relaxes.

I relax, as well. I hate whatever things lurk in his past that disturb him so. We are living a beautiful life with each other. He seems happy—ecstatic even. But when he sleeps, he’s still pursued by whatever things haunt him.

Things haunt us here, but he is unaware of them.

He doesn’t know the Vanishings have increased, or that we stopped going to the village because the animosity toward him there had begun to worry me. When someone calls him a Necromancer, he corrects them happily—‘ex-Necromancer.’ He doesn’t realize that doesn’t matter to nearly everyone here. To my mother, Rahvel, Bedon, Varalica, and me, he’s a hero. To everyone else, he’s still a villain. And I know that would break his heart.

I’ve instructed Bedon and Varalica not to discuss the Vanishings in front of Frank. He’s blissfully unaware of how dangerous it is to live beyond the palace’s shields.

The only things he fears are in his dreams, and I will have it that way for as long as possible.

So I hold my beloved, and press my lips to his head, his face, and tell him ‘I’m here,’ in hopes my words create a lifeline to the pleasures he loves so much in our world.

I can’t fully partake in those pleasures myself. I love Frank dearly, but I can’t relax here like he does when he’s awake.

I’m free of my betrothal and want to frolic with Frank for as long as I can. I live in fear of the next time my father wants to forge alliances with my hand. Although I’m allowed a measure of say in such things, I still fear confrontations with my father. Frank has my heart, will always have my heart, but I worry how long our freedom will last.

However much I love being here with Frank, I never wanted this. When I Vanished from the Eternal Realm, when Frank summoned me, I was terrified. Once I learned I would not be processed for fiendium but would be his familiar, instead, I was actually happy. Not only was I with the man I had fallen in love with when we were children, I no longer had to worry about being king. I didn’t have to deal with my father’s constant mocking. All I had to do was love Frank.

Now, it’s all back on my shoulders—all of the responsibility, all of the abuse, and the prospect of being married off to someone else. Sometimes, I almost wish he hadn’t saved me. I wish he had gone to Eden and let me die.

I can’t tell him any of that. He’s haunted by enough without my adding worries. For now, there’s only us and our love.

#

Next day - The King’s Beach/center>

Frank/center>

I flop down on our blanket. “I don’t know if I’ll ever come again,” I tell Kasimir. “I’m all out.”

Kasimir turns over, his dazzling eyes alight with mischief. “Twenty minutes from now you’ll be all over me again.”

“Yeah, well...okay. But right now, I feel completely drained.”

“So do I. I wish it were lunchtime already. I’m famished!” He lifts up on one elbow. “You seemed to quite enjoy that sparkling wine yesterday. Would you like me to ask Bedon to get some more of that for us?”

Before I can answer, a man flies from the cliff above us and lands neatly next to us. He’s wearing the colors of the king, black and emerald green. Livery, I think I’ve heard Kasimir call it. I think he’s a messenger. His skin is darker than Kasimir’s, almost bronze, and his bat wings are nearly black. Like all of the eligos, he’s striking and handsome. And again, I feel like the luckiest guy alive, because Kasimir, surrounded by men who all look like underwear models, has chosen me.

It seems so weird now to think I was ever a Necromancer. That I ever worked for DemonCo and thought about killing Eternals to make fiendium. The human world runs on fiendium, on the lives of the eligos and all of the other inhabitants of this world. It’s just a world, like ours, but we somehow decided it was ours to pillage and justified our greed by saying they were demons, evil incarnate, when they’re actually just people and animals from another world.

I catch my snap, then. I haven’t actually been listening to what Mr. Bronze has been saying, but Kasimir stands up, raining sand, with an alarmed expression on his beautiful face. “I see,” says Kasimir. “I need to change clothes....”

“Wear your armor. They leave in an hour.” He turns toward the cliff and raises his wings as if to fly. “Oh,” he faces Kasimir again. “He said to bring your pet monster.” With that he flaps his wings and flies back toward the cliff.

Awww. Kasimir’s asshole father’s term of endearment for me. Great. What now? “What was that all about?”

“We need to fly back to the palace,” says Kasimir. His wings shoot out behind him. They look like giant hawk’s wings, feathered instead of webbed like most other eligos and copper striped with gold. They’re breathtaking. It doesn’t matter how fucking awesome they are, however, I still hate flying. I endure it, but it still makes me feel faint. I hate heights, which kind of sucks when the love of your life has wings.

“What’s going on?”

He spreads his arms so I can hug him while he carries me. “Father is confronting an army from the Kingdom of the Red Moon. He wants us to ride with him.”


Author Bio

I’m Sionnach (prounced SHUHN ukh) and I’m a trans male author of romance and fantasy. Most of my books are gay romances because they’re so much fun to write. Opposites attract is my favorite trope with hurt/comfort right behind it. Few things are as fun to me as bringing men to life and pushing them into each other’s arms. I love happily ever afters and believe true love is absolutely real.

Before I started writing full time, I volunteered as a grant writer for animal rescue nonprofits. I love animals, and they inevitably find their way into my stories. I share my life with my husband and seven spoiled cats. I’m also the emotional support human to a crazy husky. He/him

Website: https://www.SionnachWintergreen.com

Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100010515095870

Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/everwintergreen

Twitter: https://twitter.com/everwintergreen

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/sionnachwintergreen/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15258737.Sionnach_Wintergreen

QueeRomance Ink: https://www.queeromanceink.com/mbm-book-author/sionnach-wintergreen/

Author Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Sionnach-Wintergreen/e/B01FOU8PS4

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