Delaney Hagen’s life has spiraled into complete pandemonium. After killing the monster who turned her, she thought she’d finally escaped … only to find herself trapped with new enemies. Worse, these enemies are among the Coven – one of whom she thought she could trust.
Reid Jamison refuses to rest until his beloved mate is back in his arms. If that means organizing wolf packs around the globe and taking on the Coven, so be it. But doing so means achieving the impossible task of finding the oldest living wolf – and Reid is running out of time.
The fight to find one another reveals even greater dangers, ones that threaten the future of werewolves and witches alike. The stake of her people rests solely on Delaney’s shoulders. Reid must convince his kind to forgive a centuries-old grudge. Or there will never be peace among the chaos.
War has come to their world. Will Delaney and Reid reunite amidst the bloodshed, or will the fight for freedom send them into ruins?
Emily Cyr is a stay-at-home mom turned writer. She holds a degree in middle grades education with certification in English and social science. She has always had a love of all things paranormal and fantasy, but it wasn’t until Emily’s husband said the words, “Why not?” that she considered putting her thoughts and ideas into the book, The Lightning Prophecy. This trilogy was just the start for Emily. It seemed to open a creative door that had been locked.
Emily has always been an avid reader. Through reading came her love of writing. The more she read, the more she knew she wanted to create her own world. Many of her first works were fan fiction.
Emily and her family currently reside in Cibolo, Texas. She has an incredibly supportive husband who is also an officer in the United States Air Force. They have three sons, ages 6, 4, and 1. Somehow, even with the demands of being a parent to two little boys, she finds time to escape to her fantasies and write them down.
After the death of their parents, seventeen year old Liv Larson and her younger brother are separated by the foster care system. Her grades slip, her friends drift away, and she gives up on her plans for college. The only thing that matters is keeping the promise to get back to her brother. After months of solitude and anti-social behavior, Liv's best friend Riley drags her to their high school's rooftop solar flare party. Despite the beautiful lights dancing in the sky, Liv finds herself captivated by Zander, a mysterious boy with a crooked smile. For a few hours, she allows herself to feel normal again.
That is until what should have been a small flare erupts into a massive solar storm. Cut off from the rest of the world with no sign of rescue, fear and paranoia begin to take their toll on the group. Battle lines are drawn and their ranks are divided. Soon, those left behind must embark on a perilous journey to save one of their own…but, something sinister awaits them in the shadows and it’s undeniably connected to Liv.
Can she keep her promise to reunite with her brother? What are Liv and her friends willing to do to survive? Will their bravery and determination be enough to save them all from a rogue military unit, a terrifying virus, and the things that go bump in the night?
Or was Icarus really the KILLSHOT?
I didn't know what i was going to expect when i opened this book, but I was pleasantly surprised. A solar flare hits and a group of teens must learn to survive.
I liked the descriptions and the world building. it was like i was actually there with the characters.
I can't wait to see what happens next! 5/5 stars
Aria Michaels is the author of The Icarus Series, a bestselling young adult dystopian saga as well as a contributor to ATZ's Chronology of the Apocalypse. Aria is an avid reader, die-hard zombie fan, and enthusiastic lover of bonfires and red wine. When she is not glued to her computer pouring out the voices in her head, this busy single mom can be found playing in the dirt with her boys, painting, or binge-watching The Walking Dead. Aria is currently hard at work on the next installment of the Icarus Series and reveling in her role as instigator of literary mayhem and stealth assassin of fictional characters.
"You are never more than one chapter away from a different future." --Aria Michaels
The flames licked at my heels and without thinking, I threw my leg over the solid oak railing and pushed off. I held on for dear life as I sailed down the thick banister and landed with a thud at the bottom of the staircase. Nothing was recognizable anymore through the trenches of smoke, but I instinctively headed back the way I had come. The swinging door crashed to the ground behind me, sending shards of flaming wood my direction. I rolled to the side to avoid them and slammed my already sore shoulder into the corner of the breakfast bar.
“Ahh,” I groaned as I inched my way along the tile floor.
I oriented myself towards the only light I could see; a shred of night sky that peeked through glass doors ahead. The moonlight seemed pale in comparison to the smothering darkness of the black smoke around me. My head was buzzing and my vision was blurry. My hands and feet felt numb, but somehow I dragged myself over to the sliding door. I tried to get up but found I could not reach the handle. I shoved at the frame, but the door would not open. Desperate and disoriented, I rolled onto my back and kicked at the glass.
It laughed at me and held firm.
I felt myself sinking into the floor, my limbs no longer responding to commands. My eyes would not open but I could feel the heat closing in on me. I always heard your life flashed before your eyes just before you died, but in my case it was more of a random, fleeting thought…I died trying to save a stuffed animal.
Tiny diamonds rained down on me and a breeze tickled my face. My body floated weightlessly through the flames.
To save millions of lives, she may have to sacrifice the ones she loves…
Rie is on the run from the wrath of elvish kings. As her enemies grow and the assassins close in, she must bring a traitor to justice to save herself. But to keep one step ahead, Rie may need to leave her friends and the man she loves behind…
Her only chance of survival may lie in a hidden colony of water fae off the Florida coast. When the Fire Queen approaches with a vengeance and innocent people die, Rie faces an impossible choice: give herself up to save her loved ones or watch as the entire human realm is completely annihilated…
Sanyare: The Rebel Apprentice is the third book in the Sanyare Chronicles, a series of breathtaking fantasy adventure novels. If you like headstrong heroines, mythological creatures, and a hearty dose of magic and mayhem, then you’ll love Megan Haskell’s thrilling series.
Megan Haskell is the author of the dark fantasy adventure series, The Sanyare Chronicles, and Program Director for O.C. Writers, A Network of Published and Aspiring Authors. She lives in Orange County, California with her husband, two young daughters, and one ridiculously energetic dog. You can find her on her website at www.MeganHaskell.com, www.OCWriters.Network, and Facebook.
To get your FREE copy of Pixie Tamer, the short story prequel to Sanyare: The Last Descendant, PLUS three excerpts from the novel featuring Rie's tiniest allies, sign up for Megan Haskell’s newsletter at www.meganhaskell.com/newsletter-subscription.
The long awaited sequel to my 'whim of an idea' series is finally here! The Molten Heart Saga was born out of a few tiny sparks of ideas i had, that i then decided to join together.
I wanted to write a series about a girl who was traumatised by her past, a girl who was afraid to open up her heart to those around her, in a post-apocalyptic world that is so much bigger than she was.
Skye Montgomery was created, and a futuristic America was created. Skye's landscape is diverse, and i will confess, is actually a mash up of Sydney and the United States. It's a fictional world, so i had to give it a fictional name, while still being realistic enough that you could envision yourself walking in Skye's shoes.
Molten Heart, the first book in the series was written as stress relief back in 2014. I was between jobs, and studying and i guess the stress of it all got to me. When i did begin my new job, i couldn't stop daydreaming about this new fictional post-apocolytic landscape. I'm sorry the sequel, Wounded Heart, took almost three years to finish. But it is finally done and out in the world. I hope you enjoy it!
Scroll down to read an excerpt from Wounded Heart, and purchase your copy.
I’ve been avoiding this room for a few months
now. I walk past it every day and glance at the doorknob but never touch it. I
know what’s on the other side. It was avoidable. Until now.
Since Blossom’s death and her memorial, I’ve been putting
off gathering the precious little handmade dolls she had made for all of us.
They were her prized possessions, but she wouldn’t have wanted them to just sit
in her room like a sad shrine. Like the happy doll, she would have wanted us to
I open the door and poke my head in. The room is still
shrouded in darkness, but I know where everything is. Even though I haven’t
physically been inside the room since Blossom’s death, I had committed the
layout of the room to memory. There’s a bed
in the corner under a mirror, and above that, a sunlamp hangs to imitate a window. Since we were underground, windows
looking out to the outside world weren’t possible. So, we had to make do and
create our own sunlight. At the foot of the bed sits a black and gold carved
wooden trunk, similar to Blossom’s father’s own furniture in his compound.
Along the wall where the door is located, the one closest to
where I am standing now is a sliding
wooden door—a closet. Blossom didn’t own much. We each owned just a few sets of
clothes, only what was necessary. That was why Blossom’s dolls were so special
I enter the room and head straight for the black and gold trunk.
I’ve never looked in the trunk previously, but I know this must be where the
Blossom’s bed was always made with military precision, and
she never added any personal touch, such as colorful throws or toys on the bed.
I know this to be a product of a strict military upbringing.
I crouch down beside the trunk and lift the lid. It is heavy
but dark, and I can’t see anything. I run to the door and slap my palm against
the solar panel beside it. The sunlamp flickers to life and illuminates the
I gasp when I see what is lying inside the trunk. In a neat
row lay a collection of intricately handcrafted knitted dolls. Each character
is recognizable at once. I find Lukas, Shin, even Robbie our cook has his own
doll. I laugh and take each one out to inspect them. They are so detailed it’s
A piece of folded paper flutters down into the trunk from
one of the dolls. I put the Lukas doll down and pick up the paper. I unfold it, and a lump immediately forms in my throat
when I see what it is—a note written by Blossom. But I can’t make myself read
That’s where Lukas finds me sometime
later, curled into a fetal position on the floor next to Blossom’s trunk.
Look out for the Rebellious Heart cover reveal in August!
I have a lot of things happening over the next few months, so there may not be many book releases (ebook, paperback), but there will be audiobook releases! First Glance will be out soon, as well as The Chronicles of Blood and Stone. As of now, I don't know when Illuminate will release. I'm trying to fit that in between my signings, and the release of Rebellious Heart, and my trip to Melbourne.
They possess the power to make their dreams come true—but it won’t be easy.
Preston Knight—Elvis to his friends—loves being a vampire. The night he was turned was the first step to him becoming the kind of man he always hoped to be. Now, he’s a rock star. What could be better? But the one thing that would make his world complete is just out of reach. The woman he yearns for has some serious secrets, and despite him knowing that she wants him just as much as he wants her, she won’t let him in.
Lily Gray never asked to be a vampire. The choice was taken from her eons ago, and things never improved. Now, she finds herself peddling drugs on the streets of San Francisco and playing the part of doting wife to a possessive and sadistic vampire with delusions of grandeur. But family means everything to Lily, and she’s willing to sacrifice everything for it…even her one chance at happiness with the sexy-as-sin vampire who sets her heart ablaze.
When one night of passion opens the door for a century of secrets to be revealed, Lily and Preston must fight for not only what they believe in but also what they love.
Susan Griscom writes paranormal and contemporary romance. She's hooked on sexy romances and is a huge fan of superheroes and bad boys confronted with extraordinary forces of nature, powers, and abilities beyond the norm mixed with steamy romance, of course.
She loves those days when she gets to sit around in her sweat pants, doing nothing but writing emotionally charged stories about love and violence.
She lives in Northern California in wine country and one of her favorite weekend excursions is wine tasting with the love of her life. Together, she and her romantic husband have five great superhero kids and eight mini-superhero grand kids, so far.
“It’s up to you, Elvis.” Lincoln, the dealer, nodded in my direction and waited. I kept my eyes trained on the center of the table where chips sat in a small pile. I didn’t need to look at my cards again. I knew what I had: an eight and a queen of hearts.
There were six vampires at the table, counting both Gage and me. Gage had folded right after the deal, and so had one of the other players. I was the last to bet, and sometimes, I liked to spice things up a bit, so I matched the bet and sat back.
Heavy smoke hung in the air like delicate streams of fog, swirling in circled patterns under the light hanging from a long cord above the table. Four other lights hung on fixtures attached to the otherwise stark, tawny brown walls. Even with all the lights, the room seemed dark.
Maybe it was the darkness of the souls in the room. I wasn’t sure.
A droning sound buzzed from outside, a little annoying, but I managed to drown it out as I nonchalantly watched the faces around the table as the dealer revealed the flop.
The first card the dealer turned up was a jack of hearts, then a nine of hearts.
It was raining hearts for some reason, and I held two of them already. I held my breath, waiting for the third card in the flop. Crap, an eight of diamonds.
Not exactly what I was looking for, but a pair of eights with a queen high wasn’t completely a loss so I decided to hang in there and see if one more heart would show. There were still two cards to go, and a flush was possible.
I kept my eyes straight, my thoughts blank—or I tried—like I usually did as each card was revealed, always attempting to keep my composure, never deviating from the norm, not wanting to give away my emotions. I was an expert at reading people. Especially in a poker game. A blink of an eye, a slight twitch, a swallow, the slightest movement, anything…different could give someone’s hand away. I wanted to reach up and finger my shades that sat on top of my head. Just one little nudge and they’d be sitting comfortably on my face, shielding my eyes. But not only were dark glasses frowned upon in this high-stakes game of Texas Hold ’em, but any movement out of the ordinary might tip someone off about my cards.
This wasn’t our normal gathering with my brothers at the mansion. This was a high roller, unsanctioned but heavily guarded poker game with some seriously high-powered city officials that I’d bet my right nut were a drug cartel of some sort or another. The two thugs in the monkey suits positioned on either side of the door to the entrance had stood like statues most of the night; the bulge of a holster protruding from under their jackets an obvious clue. At least they were on the outside of the room, but they still remained at the ready if their services were required.
Gage and I didn’t normally seek out games with such high stakes, but he’d been bored lately, and when he ran into Lincoln—the game’s host—at Club Royal a couple of weeks ago, Lincoln had invited Gage and me to join. Said they’d recently lost two of their regulars and needed a couple of fill-ins.
When Gage approached me, I’d shrugged him off at first, not wanting any part of something that sounded so sketchy, but after he’d pestered me for the entire week, I finally gave in, needing a distraction from the long hours—sometimes days apart—from Lily, the sexy and sweet vampire I’d been trying to get to know better. Except, she was either playing hard to get, or just wasn’t that interested in me. Though I had a difficult time believing the latter of those two options since she continued to meet me whenever she had the time or, in her words, “could get away.” Away from what, I hadn’t been able to find out. Yet.
Getting thoughts of Lily off my mind was nearly impossible Her fair, silky-smooth skin; her mesmerizing dark coffee eyes that could hold my gaze for hours on end; the tips of her long, thick locks kissing the cleavage of her breasts where my lips longed to skim. I managed to clear my head just in time, as it was my turn to bet again. I slid my bet forward, raising the pot three thousand for appearance’s sake. In truth, without another heart or a ten, I had squat. I didn’t think the pair of eights would cut it. I had an excellent chance for a straight or a flush if either of the next two cards went my way. Since Gage had already folded, he sat still as a statue beside me, his hands together on the edge of the table. I knew he was busting a gut wondering what I held in my hand.
There were only four of us left in this hand, and I didn’t want to go home with a loss. Not against these guys. Two of them sat puffing on brown cigarettes, looking rather tough. They were tough, the sort who would drain the blood from a homeless person and leave them to die in the gutter without so much as a “thank you, ma’am.” Particularly, the one at the end with the light brown wool Stetson on his head. The word dangerous exuded from his pores. He wore that hat pulled low on his brow, shading his eyes just enough to where it was legal but not enough to reveal much about him. A neatly trimmed goatee graced his chin and his upper lip. A long ponytail made of cornrow braids hung down his back. He seemed on edge, or maybe it was just an act to throw me off.
Which he did when he raised another five thousand. That was steep, and the other two guys folded. Either the guy had something powerful, or he was bluffing his ass off and had nothing. Since I had the queen of hearts, I knew he couldn’t have a royal flush. But that didn’t rule out a straight or four of a kind. The bald-headed guy next to him folded, as did the next two. Now it was up to me, and six thousand was just about all I had left, so I shoved the entire stack I had into the middle of the table.
“I’m all in,” I said with feigned confidence.
After all the bets had been matched, the dealer flipped the fourth card.
A fucking nine of spades.
I watched out of the corner of my eye as cowboy hat’s mouth curved up on one side, the tip of his fang biting into his lower lip. Could mean he was nervous. Or cocky. Either way, my hand was dead unless a ten or another heart showed up.
My heart skipped a beat when the fifth card was flipped over. There it was, sparkling as if someone had lit it on fire. I managed to keep my composure as I chilled, though I could have sworn I heard fireworks go off outside.
The beautiful ten of hearts.
Stetson vamp chuckled and said, “Too bad. You played a nice hand.” Then he laid down his cards. A pair of nines, giving him four of a fucking kind, which would beat most hands. When he started to grab at the pile of chips, I cleared my throat.
“Hold on there, space cowboy,” I heard myself say, not sure if the cockiness in my voice would help or hinder, but that pile of chips in the center of the table belonged to me, and there was no fucking way I was letting this douche have them. I had a fucking straight flush, queen high. Beat that you fucking cocksucker. I wanted to gloat but managed to keep my cool and simply turned the two cards in my hand over and placed them face up on the table.
His face paled, if that were possible. His dark-stubbled jaw flexed. His eyes narrowed to slits. His left ear twitched, and he placed both his palms on the table as he stood, glaring at me. Everyone sitting around the table stiffened. The chips lay in a heap in the middle. He kept his large ebony eyes on mine, never faltering. I allowed myself to stare right back, not moving a centimeter. I was good at stare-out games. I’d had a cat, many in fact, and we constantly played this game. Stetson hat was no different in my mind. Though I was positive he thought differently. This guy was too fucking arrogant for my taste. I’d wondered from the moment I sat down if he was going to be trouble.
“Jace, you ready?” he barked.
The guy at the end of the table—Jace, I assumed—nodded. “Yep, I’m all tapped out. Ladies.”
Stetson hat shrugged into a light brown wool coat, generously embellished with dark brown fur at the lapel, all the while keeping his eyes glued to me. “Be sure to join us again. I look forward to the opportunity to win that back.” His eyes briefly averted to the large pile of chips in the middle of the table before returning to mine, and then he touched the rim of his hat and nodded like he was fucking Clint Eastwood. “Gentlemen.” He kept his lips tight as he turned and walked out. Stopping by another vampire on his way, he looked down at him, made some sort of gesture with his hand, and left the room. Jace, and two other large vampires went with him.
Gage cleared his throat. “Fuck, man. That was intense.” The three dudes left at the table all sighed heavily.
The vampire that Stetson hat had gestured to stood up. “Roach would like you to join him at his employer’s mansion.” Roach? What the fuck kind of person names their kid Roach? I almost laughed. The poor guy. No wonder he was so intense. “It is open to you any Friday evening. That is the night they entertain small groups. Midnight. Here’s the address.” He slipped me a card. I glanced down at the etching on the flat piece of metal.
Whatever your pleasure, we’ve got it.
Sweet Towers, Sky Deck.
When the vampire had left, Gage grabbed the card from me. “Shit. Looks like he wants a rematch.”
“Well, he isn’t getting one,” I retorted and threw the fancy card down on the table. This was over right now. I didn’t want any part of whatever the fuck that guy was dealing.
“I wouldn’t be so quick to pass on that invite if I were you, Elvis,” Lincoln, the vampire who’d hosted the night’s game, said. “That vampire works for Sweet, one of this city’s most dominant and influential business owners. He has the support of the local labor board, as well as several other highfalutin bigwigs in the city. It’s quite the honor to be invited, even if it was by his right-hand man. Sweet doesn’t give out invitations to his private parties very often. And his parties don’t have anything to do with card games, if you get my drift. Roach must have liked you.” He winked.
I raised my eyebrows up at Lincoln in question.
“You know. Sex, drugs. Those kinds of parties. Group or single, whatever you desire, so I’ve heard.”
Whatever kind of parties, I wasn’t into group sex or drugs. I had a woman, or at least a woman I wanted, as the vision of Lily’s striking brown eyes set against her smooth, deep black hair floated through my mind. I got to my feet and shrugged into my coat. “Come on, Gage, let’s split.”