Whiskey with Wolves Erica Spray Publication date: May 7th 2024 Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance
Sadie Crowe is a runaway hoping to make a better future for herself, but she soon discovers what it means to truly be on her own. While trying to survive bartending in the middle of nowhere, Sadie is swept away by promises of money and an easy life by an enigmatic stranger. The grown-up world makes one dark turn after another, and Sadie must find her way through torment into the light of her future.
Born and raised in Southwest Louisiana taught me how to spin stories naturally. The culture, the flair, and the people really made it a magical place as a child. In a lot of my writings I still use Louisiana as the location because in a place as wild and tight-knit as Southern Louisiana, the possibilities are endless.
I knew I wanted to be a writer since I was in middle school. When i was in my thirties I knew that writing was my true calling in life. Just for the record, if something is your true calling, it will never stop calling you. Writing never stopped calling me and i’m glad that I finally listened and decided to take that leap.
You’ll learn pretty quickly that my novels are mysterious and thrilling. I hope to always bring that element of surprise in each book ending. Think you have me figured out? Think again.
So Hectic Eve Dangerfield (Silver Daughters Ink, #3) Publication date: May 23rd 2024 Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
A Super Spicy, Enemies to Lovers, Playboy, standalone romance from critically acclaimed author Eve Dangerfield
Tabby DaSilva’s life sucks. Her dad’s AWOL, her Prosecco-themed music festival ‘Sparkling Whine’ bombed, and her big sister’s pregnancy means she’s officially transitioning from ‘youngest kid’ to ‘weird aunt.’ But hardest to take is her best friend Toby Tennant becoming pure evil.
Relieving him of his virginity was supposed to seal their alliance. Instead, Mr Nice Guy vanished only to resurface as a full-blown finance douche, complete with Lamborghini and a podcast shilling creatine every five minutes.
Frankly, it’s a fate worse than death.
But Tabby has the perfect solution: run away! All she needs is enough cash to start a new life in Colombia, and since Toby’s petitioning for her to tattoo him, what’s a girl to do but slowly inject ink into her enemy’s rippling Ken doll torso?
Little does she know that her ex-best friend doesn’t really want a tattoo. Toby wants her, mind, body, and soul. He’s spent the last two years becoming the Sugar Daddy of Tabitha DaSilva’s dreams, and he’s finally ready to show her that he can take care of her and dominate her in ways she can’t even imagine…
SO HECTIC is a full-length contemporary novel and is the third and final book in the Silver Daughters Ink Series.
Eve Dangerfield’s novels have been described as ‘genre-defying,’ ‘insanely hot’ and ‘the defibrillator contemporary romance needs right now’ and not just by those who might need bone marrow one day… OTHER PEOPLE! She lives in Melbourne with her beautiful family and can generally be found making a mess.
Refuge from the World Kim McMahill (The Beartooth Chronicles, #1) Publication date: March 19th 2024 Genres: Dystopian, New Adult, Young Adult
Ashley McPhee arrived in Beartooth with her mom, Sara, when she was three years old. Ever since Ash can remember, life has been simple and peaceful. She enjoyed a carefree childhood, tending honey bees with her mom and spending time with her best friend, Caleb Solomon. But, life in their idyllic mountaintop community is changing.
After learning of the government’s plan to use a geoengineering process to cool the planet, Ash and Caleb realize they need to step up and take an active role in the community. Along with fear for how the process might impact their food supply, Ash learns her mom’s health is failing.
Sara doesn’t want Ash to face an uncertain future alone and nudges her and Caleb into marriage. Even though they have known each other most of their lives, Ash and Caleb’s relationship has changed drastically in a short period of time. They embrace the challenges of learning about each other, dealing with tragedy and grief, protecting their community from deadly predators and ruthless neighbors, and experiencing epic adventures, while trying to find solutions to a rapidly changing environment and deteriorating world.
Ash fell into step next to Caleb without talking. They had known each other for so long that they could be together without saying a word, and it didn’t feel awkward. When they reached the lake, they sat down on one of the large boulders scattered around the shore and stared out at the water.
“The lake level goes down a little more each year,” Caleb said.
“I’ve noticed. It used to be up to that cluster of rocks over there when we would go fishing when we were younger.”
“Rain isn’t enough to keep it full. The last time I remember seeing snow up here was when I was seven, and it didn’t stick around. Seems kind of ironic that so much of the planet is flooded, yet many worry about having enough fresh water to drink and to irrigate crops.”
“Why did we stop fishing?” Ash asked.
“I didn’t stop fishing. I still go fishing at least once a week. When you started taking a more active role in the beekeeping and tree nursery, you were available less and less. I go first thing in the morning, and that’s when you and your mom do most of your work.”
“I miss going fishing with you. I’ll see if Mom cares if we change around the schedule a bit unless you don’t want me tagging along like I did when I was younger.”
“I miss it too. I would love for you to tag along even though you always out-fished me.”
He put his arm around her and pulled her close. Ash laid her head on his shoulder and stared out at the lake. They sat like this sometimes, not as much as they used to, and she missed this too. She loved the feel of his arm around her and the warmth of his body next to hers, but never read too much into the gesture. Today, especially, she was in no hurry to break the connection.
“Are you going to the community meeting tonight?” he asked, finally breaking the silence.
“Yes. I keep getting these unsettling feelings, and I hope to find out if it’s just my imagination or if there is something I should be worried about. First, I find out you’ve been tasked with building weapons, then I had an odd conversation with your dad, found out we’re having an off-cycle community meeting, and all of a sudden Mom is all over me about marrying Tyler Hewitt.”
“What!” Caleb shouted as he scooted away and turned his body to face her. “You’re not seriously considering marrying that old man, are you?”
“No, but apparently, they’ve talked about it. I pointed out to Mom that he’s eleven years younger than she, but eighteen years older than me. In Tyler’s defense, I can only think of a couple of other eligible women between his age and mine.”
“He has no defense. For him to even be thinking about it, is wrong. When he moved here, you were what? Three? Four? Why now?”
“I think Mom is worried about getting old and leaving me alone. I don’t think she’s been feeling well, but I don’t know if it’s anything serious.”
Caleb stood up and paced. Ash watched him, confused by his reaction.
“I don’t plan to marry Tyler or anyone else not of my choosing. But, I’m not sure why you would care anyway since you’ve got eyes on Evelyn.”
“Where’d you hear that?”
“Apparently, her mother has been telling people that you two have been spending time together.”
“That’s not true. She tagged along when I was delivering deer meat the other day to the storehouse, but that was it. I most certainly didn’t ask her to come with me, and all she did was ask me questions about Dillon. Besides, she’s just a girl.”
Ash chuckled. “If people are happy to pawn me off on a man eighteen years older, a mere four years between you and Evelyn is nothing.”
She watched as Caleb retreated to the water’s edge. He picked up a flat stone and skipped it across its glassy surface. Ash walked to his side and stood next to him.
“We’d better get back. The meeting starts in a couple of hours, and I should help Mom with dinner,” Ash said as she turned to leave.
Caleb grabbed her arm and pulled her back until she was facing him. “Let’s hear what they have to say tonight. If there is some reason why everyone needs to get married, you’re marrying me.”
“And, what if there is no need?” she asked softly.
“Well, maybe we should anyway.”
Author Bio:
Kim McMahill started out writing nonfiction, but her passion for adventure, stories of survival against the odds, and speculating about the future of humanity and our planet, soon turned her attention towards fiction. She has published eleven novels, over eighty travel and human-interest articles, and contributed to a travel story anthology. Growing up in a beautiful mountain west community, traveling the world, and enjoying a twenty-year career with the National Park Service, has given her the opportunity to live in amazing places, experience incredible adventures, and witness many changes in our world, all of which have helped shape her stories.
Keepers of Time M. N. Kinch (The Keepers of Time Trilogy, #1) Publication date: May 7th 2024 Genres: Fantasy, New Adult, Paranormal
A forgotten life.
A secret passed through generations.
A dangerous immortal with nothing to lose.
Joan Sanders is on track for a bright future at NASA, but a strange accident and even stranger dreams draw her to the Cardozas, three mysterious siblings with a charming coffee shop, a dark past, and an uncanny knack for knowing things they shouldn’t.
As Joan grows closer to the Cardozas (especially the grumpy, yet charming, older brother), she’s thrown into a world of secrets and magic that challenge everything she believes. And she realizes she may have more in common with them than she thought.
While Joan and the Cardozas race to unravel a centuries-old secret that could destroy time itself, an ancient, heartbroken drifter lurks on the edges of their lives, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
And he may know more about Joan’s past than she does.
In this funny and mesmerizing first installment of the Keepers of Time trilogy, M. N. Kinch weaves a magical story of romance and found family, with unforgettable characters you’ll love from the very first page.
Typing sentence by labored sentence, I nibble at my scone as I flip through my notes. I startle slightly when a pair of hands places a mug of steaming tea on my table, a woman’s hands with the same olive skin as the two people behind the counter. I assume it was the girl who was making my tea.
“Oh,” I gasp. “Thank you…” I look up and forget what I was about to say. It’s a different girl, mid-twenties maybe, perhaps a year or two younger than me, dripping wet, with silvery hair that falls just past her shoulders. She wears a soaked blue apron over a sleeveless flowered dress that’s thin and faded. How is she not freezing? Her lips part slightly, giving her a dazed look. My breath catches in my throat. She has the lightest blue eyes I’ve ever seen, almost the pale silver color of her hair. They stand out like shining stars against her olive skin. At first I wonder if she’s blind, but her eyes focus on me for a split second and she smiles softly before her pupils slide away from mine, looking right past me. Through me. Without a word, the girl turns and drifts away, arms limp at her sides, dripping a trail of water behind her.
This must be Luna, the girl the guy was so grumpy about. I shrug it off and get back to work, taking my time with the tea and scone. The scone is amazing. I look up at the guy in the kitchen, who’s wiping down the counters, wondering if he bakes all the cafe’s pastries and if they’re all as good as this. I could eat here every day.
Gabby, the girl from the register, carries a stack of trays past him and says something that makes him roll his eyes, but he smiles. The corners of his dark eyes crinkle. He hasn’t had a shave in a while and his nose is a little pointy, but the effect isn’t at all unpleasant.
Stop getting distracted, Joan. Work. NASA. Move it.
I drop my eyes back to my screen and drag out another sentence. My silver charm bracelet clinks on the keyboard, the tiny sun, moon, star, and rocket charms tinkling as I type. Eventually, I’m the only one left in the cafe. I’m not sure what time they close, but I get the feeling I should pack up. I finish the last sip of now-cold tea, leaving the dregs in the bottom, before closing my laptop and slipping it into my bag.
When I straighten, my heart jumps into my throat. The silver-haired girl stands by my table, holding my plate and empty mug.
“Holy sh—” I exclaim, then stop myself. I hadn’t even heard her coming. This girl has a gift for sneaking up on people. “Um, thank you,” I mumble, shrugging into my coat and swinging my computer bag over my shoulder. She doesn’t answer, but stares down into my mug, frowning. Suddenly, I’m very uncomfortable.
“Thanks,” I say again. I stand and move around her to get to the door. I look back just before I step outside. This time, she looks straight at me, eyes wide, gripping the mug so hard her knuckles are white. My stomach churns. I yank on my hood and step into the rain.
Shivering in my coat, I stride down the street to the bus stop, wishing I’d brought gloves. It’s almost May. Shouldn’t it be warming up soon? I reach into my pocket for my bus pass when I hear the screech of car tires behind me.
I don’t have time to turn or scream.
Then, someone slams into me from behind, knocking the wind out of me. We fall to the pavement. Sharp pain shears up my arm, palms, knee, and the side of my face as the sidewalk shaves off my skin. My left wrist snaps and I cry out. Behind me, I hear a crash, the crunch of metal on stone. Rubble rains down on us.
Hott Take Serena Bell (Hott Springs Eternal, #2) Publication date: April 16th 2024 Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance
The hard part isn’t acting like we’re falling for each other. It’s pretending we’re not.
Shane: My grandfather’s will has me between a rock and a Hott place. If I don’t score a celebrity wedding, my sister will lose her wedding planning business—and our family’s land. As a playboy movie star, I know Hollywood’s ins and outs. But finding two celebrities in love is tougher than it looks.
Enter Ivy Scofield—the beautiful star of one of TV’s most beloved failures. She’s hiding from her past in Rush Creek, running a community theater for troubled kids. She needs my family’s wedding barn to save her program. So we make a deal: I give her the barn—she gives me her hand in fake marriage. Lights, camera, action—and cut—right?
Not so fast. Planning our fake wedding is way more personal than I was expecting. I’m learning Ivy’s quirks, preferences, and pet peeves—and that’s before I walk in on her enjoying my most infamous on-camera scene. Plus she’s slowly peeling back my layers—the ones I’ve built up to protect myself. If someone doesn’t do something soon, we might discover that the only thing fake about this wedding is the way we keep pushing each other away.
A spicy, movie star, marriage of convenience, fake relationship standalone romantic comedy set in the beloved small town of Rush Creek.
After Nia told me that Shane Hott is an actor, I watched the first Crown of Spires movies, Lord of Every Sky. It was full of scenes where he was shirtless, badass, and bossy. He’s basically the villain of the first movie—although I get the sense that he’s going to be redeemed later from the way the camera lingers on his…assets.
Even as I watched, I questioned my life choices. I wasn’t at all sure watching the movie was a good idea because in a town as small as Rush Creek, Shane and I were bound to cross paths.
After I watched him in Lord of Every Sky, I wanted to build a small monument to his torso and worship it…with my tongue.
And now, encountering him in the hallway outside of Hanna’s office, my knees feel less solid than I would ideally like.
Never trust a guy so good looking he makes you stupid.
So I do what any self-respecting woman would do in that situation.
I pretend I have no idea who he is.
I can tell he’s waiting for me to recognize him, giving me a beat to say, Holy crap, Shane Hott!
After he got on Bridge and turned into a household name, Anthony used to do the same thing.
Seeing echoes of Anthony in this guy makes me even less inclined to give him what he wants. Another Hollywood fuckboy hopped up on fan worship. It’s the last thing my life needs.
“Nice to meet you. I’m Ivy Scofield,” I say, cool and low key, like I’m introducing myself to the manager at the bank.
Surprise flickers behind his eyes, but he hides it, extending his hand. I take it. It’s big, warm, and dry and, unfortunately for my equilibrium, attached to a toned, muscular forearm below a rolled shirt sleeve. The shirt itself is a soft-looking blue gray that clings in all the right places to his movie star–worthy shoulders, pecs, and abs. He has long-lashed dark brown eyes paired with a blade of a nose, square jaw, and lush mouth. Against my will, I admit that he’s gorgeous.
I thought I had permanently rid myself of men who were too good looking to be believed, but apparently not.
“I think we can help each other out,” he says. Actually, he whispers it. “You, um, mind walking with me?” He gestures toward the exit.
“Should I be worried that you’re a serial killer?”
The corner of his mouth turns up. “I’m not a serial killer. I’m an actor.”
“Even worse.”
He laughs, which is terrible because it makes him even better looking, all eye crinkles and white teeth and genuine amusement. Then he stops—because I wasn’t joking and he seems to intuit that.
“Even so,” he says, more seriously. “Please. Just…let me walk you out and tell you what I’m thinking.”
I give him a shrug-nod, and we walk out of Hott Springs together to the parking lot. Now I know who owns the Aston Martin Vanquish I parked next to. I know nothing about cars…but Anthony coveted that car: fast, expensive, and—his words—a dream to drive.
As we draw even with his car, Shane says, “I know you need our barn.”
I flick him a quick, confused glance as hope buys real estate in my chest. It sounds like he’s implying that it still might be possible. I will do anything to save our theater—not just for me, but for the kids. I know Nia feels the same way.
“I can get the barn for you.”
“Hanna said—”
“Hanna wasn’t looking at the whole picture,” he tells me. “I am.”
I raise an eyebrow.
“You need the barn, and I need you to marry me.”
His too-pretty-for-real-life face is deadly serious now. My mouth falls open.
Author Bio:
USA Today bestselling author Serena Bell writes contemporary romance with heat, heart, and humor. A former journalist, Serena has always believed that everyone has an amazing story to tell if you listen carefully, and you can often find her scribbling in her tiny garret office, mainlining chocolate and bringing to life the tales in her head.
Serena’s books have earned many honors, including an RT Reviewers’ Choice Award, Apple Books Best Book of the Month, and Amazon Best Book of the Year for Romance.
When not writing, Serena loves to spend time with her college-sweetheart husband and two hilarious kiddos—all of whom are incredibly tolerant not just of Serena’s imaginary friends but also of how often she changes her hobbies and how passionately she embraces the new ones. These days, it’s stand-up paddle boarding, board-gaming, meditation, and long walks with good friends.
Last Seen in Havana Teresa Dovalpage (A Havana Mystery, #4) Publication date: February 6th 2024 Genres: Adult, Mystery, Thriller
A Cuban American woman searches for her long-lost mother and fights to restore a beautiful but crumbling Art Deco home in the heart of Havana in this moving, immersive new mystery, perfect for fans of Of Women and Salt.
Newly widowed baker Mercedes Spivey flies from Miami to her native Cuba in 2019 to care for her ailing paternal grandmother. Mercedes’s life has been shaped by loss, beginning with the mysterious unsolved disappearance of her mother when Mercedes was a little girl. Returning to Cuba revives Mercedes’s hopes of finding her mother as she attempts to piece together the few scraps of information she has. Could her mother still be alive?
Thirty-three years earlier, in 1986, an American college student with endless political optimism falls deliriously in love with a handsome Cuban soldier while on a spontaneous visit to the island. She decides to stay permanently, but soon discovers that nothing is as it seems in Havana.
The two women’s stories proceed in parallel as Mercedes gets closer to the truth about her mother, uncovering shocking family secrets in the process . . .
Sarah stood under a blue pendant lamp in the middle of a huge living room. The faded grandeur of the place still impressed her as it had the first day. She approached an upright piano and played the first chords of “London Bridge.”
Though the piano needed tuning, it had a rich, warm sound. There was a blue vase on top, next to the portrait of a dark-haired woman with a pearl necklace. The frame, heavy and ornate, looked like tarnished silver. The wall behind the piano was covered in paintings. The landscapes of marinas and countryside scenes didn’t impress the blonde, but she examined the portraits trying to discover a resemblance between their faces and Joaquín’s. If there was any, it eluded her.
Through the picture window, she saw people waiting in line across the street—the same people who had stared at her when she passed them. Her new neighbors. In due time she would join them at the grocery store queue, and they would get to know her.
She smiled and two dimples appeared on her cheeks. How fast things had moved! Less than a month ago she had been a guest at Hotel Colina in El Vedado, thinking of the handsome lieutenant who had swept her off her feet after the Triumph of the Revolution parade on January first, but not believing that their relationship (if you could call it a relationship) had any future. After all, she was an American—a “Yankee,” as they said here—who had come to Havana for eight days. But the days had turned into weeks. And the weeks would turn, hopefully, into months, and the months into years . . .
The sound of footsteps downstairs made her jump. She ran down the marble staircase, being more careful this time.
“Joaquín!”
A tall man with angular features, almond eyes and a big smile had just come into the living room. He was wearing the green olive uniform of the Revolutionary Armed Forces, which, in Sarah’s opinion, fit him amazingly well. The fact that she had fallen for a military guy still surprised her. Her father, with whom she had argued for years about everything under the sun, from politics to fashion, had been in the Navy, and she thought that was why he was so pig-headed. But she loved him and was closer to him than to her mother.
“¡Mi amor!”
Joaquín handed her a bouquet of white lilies, mariposas, which by now Sarah knew were the Cuban national flower. They hugged each other and kissed so passionately that a few mariposas were crushed in the process.
“They smell amazing!” Sarah said, pressing the bouquet against her face. “Thanks!”
“And here’s this too.” He offered her a small package wrapped in fancy tissue paper.
She tore it open and discovered a perfume bottle with the cap shaped like a dome. When she opened it, the scent of bergamot blended with the mariposa fragrance. She tried to decipher the name, written in Cyrillic characters.
“It’s called Red Moscow,” Joaquín said.
“It’s lovely! But you didn’t need to—”
“Don’t you know what day is today?”
She did. She had thought of it early in the morning, but he hadn’t mention it. She assumed Cubans didn’t celebrate Valentine’s Day because that would imply a religious reference to Saint Valentine. Joaquín had told her that religion was considered an “ideological deviation.” It made sense to her. The opiate of the masses and all that.
“El Día de los Enamorados,” he said.
A day for lovers. Sarah liked that. She was enamorada, no question about it. And so was he. No, wait, he was enamorado—she still, sometimes, got her endings mixed up. They laughed, embraced again and hurried to the second floor. The mariposa bouquet and the Red Moscow bottle were left on top of the piano, between the blue vase and the silver-framed portrait.
A truck drove at high speed in front of the house. The piano shook slightly, and the ghost of a melody came from under the closed lid. The vase and the portrait stayed put, but the perfume bottle fell to the floor and shattered. A potent aroma filled the room and snuck upstairs, passed by the master bedroom and reached the library, where the lady in the painting wore an expression of disgust.
Author Bio:
Teresa Dovalpage was born in Havana and now lives in Hobbs, where she is a college professor at New Mexico Junior College. She has a PhD in Hispanic Literature from the University of New Mexico with a specialization in Latin American literature.
She has published twelve novels and three collections of short stories. Her Havana Mystery series published by Soho Crime started with the culinary mystery Death Comes in through the Kitchen (2018), set in Havana and featuring Padrino, a santero-detective. It is loaded with authentic Cuban recipes like arroz con pollo (rice with chicken) and caldosa (a yummy stew). The second novel, Queen of Bones (2019) was chosen by NBC News as one of the top 10 books by and about Latinos in 2019. The third is Death of a Telenovela Star (2020). Set on a Caribbean cruise, it showcases the dark—sometimes deadly—side of celebrity, as well as the shenanigans that often happen abroad a cruise ship. Death under the Perseids (2021) also happens on a cruise ship, at first, and later in Havana, taking readers from the streets of La Habana Vieja to the botanical garden La Quinta de los Molinos. Upcoming is Last Seen in Havana, a sequel to Death under the Perseids.
She also wrote A Girl like Che Guevara (Soho Press, 2004) and Habanera, a Portrait of a Cuban Family (Floricanto Press, 2010).
In her native Spanish she has authored the novels Muerte de un murciano en La Habana (Death of a Murcian in Havana, Anagrama, 2006, a runner-up for the Herralde Award in Spain), El difunto Fidel (The Late Fidel, Renacimiento, 2011, which won the Rincon de la Victoria Award in Spain in 2009), Posesas de La Habana (Haunted ladies of Havana, PurePlay Press, 2004), La Regenta en La Habana (Edebe Group, Spain, 2012), Orfeo en el Caribe (Atmósfera Literaria, Spain, 2013), and El retorno de la expatriada (The Expat’s Return, Egales, Spain, 2014).
Her short story collections are The Astral Plane, Stories of Cuba, the Southwest and Beyond (University of New Orleans Press, 2012), Llevarás luto por Franco (Atmósfera Literaria, 2012) and Por culpa de Candela (Floricanto Press, May 2009).
Dirty Books Carissa Knight (The One Night Stand Club, #2) Publication date: April 12th 2024 Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance
SOMETIMES, LIFE CAN BE STRANGER (AND HOTTER) THAN FICTION.
Carlie Taylor, a shy and (often clumsy) erotic romance author, decides to walk on the wild side at Club Nocté’s latest event – a masquerade party. What’s the harm in a little anonymous fun? Well, when that fun leaves you with flashbacks of a stranger’s kiss and the world’s most baffling case of déjà vu, things get interesting.
Enter Adam, a personal trainer with abs that deserve their own Instagram account (oh wait, they have one). When he starts training Carlie, the sparks fly—but not just from the workout burn. There’s something strangely familiar about those biceps, but where could she have seen them before…?
Cue the drama: Adam’s Insta-famous life is like a soap opera, complete with a villainous ex who could give Cruella a run for her money. As Carlie and Adam’s flirty banter turns into something more, the world watches, likes, and comments. But can their fledgling romance survive the glare of the spotlight and the ghost of masquerades past?
The plot thickens like a good protein shake when Carlie has her ‘aha!’ moment. That mysterious, dreamy guy from the club? Yup, it’s Mr. Six-Pack himself. Now, the question isn’t just about enduring a tough gym session, but whether they can flex their hearts into accepting that their one-night stand might just be the real deal.
Having your books published feels like being on a rollercoaster—only this one’s been designed by a mad scientist with a peculiar sense of humor and a love for dramatic twists. Imagine climbing to the top, heart pounding, palms sweaty, only to realize the next drop is actually a loop-the-loop into a pool of chocolate pudding. It’s exhilarating, terrifying, and utterly surreal all at once.’
Seeing “Dirty Plans” and “Dirty Books” out in the world is like watching my wildest dreams take flight on a broomstick—because let’s be real, cars are too mundane for this journey. It’s like hosting a party where the guests are characters I’ve conjured from thin air, inviting readers to dance in the ballrooms of my imagination.
So, how does it feel having my books published? It’s like being the ringmaster of the most enchanting, chaotic, and absolutely unforgettable circus. And honestly, I wouldn’t have it any other way.
2. This is the second book in the series – do you need to read the first book before one can read this book? Or can your books be read as standalones?
Each book in “The One Night Stand Club” series is like a decadent slice of cake from a magnificent layered confection. You can absolutely savor each piece on its own—each layer has its unique flavor and charm, after all. “Dirty Books,” while the second slice of this sumptuous dessert, is crafted to stand alone, allowing readers to indulge without having had the first bite, “Dirty Plans.”
However, just like with any multi-layered cake, enjoying it from the bottom up offers a richer, more interconnected experience. The layers—our stories—are designed to complement each other, with characters and themes that weave through the series, enriching the narrative and deepening the reader’s connection to our little universe.
So, while you can dive fork-first into “Dirty Books” without a primer, reading “Dirty Plans” first might just make the flavors of friendship, humor, and romance taste that much sweeter. Think of “Dirty Developments” as the cherry on top, waiting to complete the experience with a promise of more surprises and delights. Each book, while delightful on its own, is part of a greater, more scrumptious banquet.
3. What made you want to be a writer?
The desire to become a writer sprouted from a voracious appetite for stories and a restless imagination that refused to stay tethered to reality. As a child, I was the architect of elaborate worlds built during playtime, crafting narratives for every doll, action figure, and unsuspecting pet that crossed my path. Books were portals to other dimensions, and I was a relentless explorer, diving headfirst into fantasy lands, detective mysteries, and tales of far-off planets.
But the true catalyst was a combination of insatiable curiosity and a penchant for eavesdropping on adult conversations, piecing together snippets of gossip, secrets, and the unspoken tensions that hum beneath the surface of everyday life. These fragments of real-world drama and intrigue ignited a spark within me to weave my own tapestries of fiction, blending the magical with the mundane, the extraordinary with the everyday.
Becoming a writer wasn’t so much a choice as it was a calling—a siren song that lured me with the promise of creating universes where anything could happen, where every ending could be happy, and where the underdog could triumph against all odds. I suppose, that’s why I started in paranormal and urban fantasy, come to think of it. (In case you didn’t know, I’m also international bestselling author, Carissa Andrews.) It was the allure of playing god in a world of my own making, of breathing life into characters who could love, laugh, fight, and dream with the same intensity as the people I observed from the shadows of my youth.
In essence, I wanted to be a writer because I fell in love with the power of stories to evoke emotions, challenge perceptions, and connect us across the chasms of time and space. Writing became my way of capturing the fleeting beauty of human experience, of holding a mirror to the world and to the heart, revealing truths that we often whisper only to ourselves in the quiet of the night.
4. What do you use as inspiration when writing?
Inspiration for writing the series “The One Night Stand Club” dances in from the mosaic of life’s everyday moments, the whispers of the past, and the vibrant tapestry of human connection. It’s like being a magpie, collecting shiny bits of reality, dreams, and the myriad shades of human emotion to weave into the narrative.
Real-Life Observations: The quirks of friends, the banter between strangers at a coffee shop, or the silent stories etched in the faces of passersby—these are the threads that weave the rich fabric of my characters and their interactions. The world is a stage, and each person, a story waiting to be told.
Music & Art: A melody can paint a thousand pictures. Sometimes, a song or a piece of art captures an emotion so perfectly, it begs a story to frame it. It’s like each note or brushstroke is a breadcrumb leading to the heart of a new tale.
Books, Movies, and TV Shows: The stories that move me, make me laugh, or leave me contemplative, serve as wells of inspiration. They’re reminders of the power of storytelling and the infinite possibilities that lie within the realms of fiction.
History and Myths: The past is a treasure trove of stories waiting to be reimagined. Ancient myths, legends, and historical events are rich soil from which new stories can grow, twisted and turned into modern tales with a twist.
Nature and Travel: The whisper of leaves in an ancient forest, the cacophony of a bustling city, or the serene silence of a desert—each landscape tells its own story. Traveling or even exploring nature locally can spark ideas for settings, plots, or characters.
Dreams and What-ifs: Those bizarre dream sequences and the game of “what-if” that the mind loves to play—what if you found a hidden door in your house that led to another world? What if your pet could suddenly talk? These flights of fancy are the seeds of fantastical stories.
Emotional Reservoir: The spectrum of human emotion, from the darkest corners of fear and sorrow to the luminous heights of love and joy, fuels the emotional depth of my writing. Drawing on personal experiences and empathizing with others’ feelings provides a wellspring of inspiration.
In the end, inspiration is a wild creature, appearing in the most unexpected moments, often when I’m least searching for it. It’s a patchwork of the world’s beauty, pain, laughter, and mystery, all waiting to be stitched into stories.
5. If you have writer’s block, what do you do to get back to writing?
Ah, when the dreaded writer’s block hits, I have my own little toolbox of tricks to kickstart the creativity engines again. Here’s what I do:
Change of Scenery: First off, I shake up my surroundings. It could be as simple as moving from my usual writing haunt to a bustling café or finding a quiet nook in a local library. Sometimes, just the act of observing life happening around me—the clink of coffee cups, the murmur of conversation, the ebb and flow of foot traffic—can jog loose the words stuck in my head.
Read, Read, Read: Next, I dive into books, voraciously and across genres. Reading is my way of feeding the muse. It’s not just about the stories themselves, but the craft behind them that fascinates me. How did the author build tension here? What makes this character so compelling? Immersing myself in the works of others broadens my perspective and often sparks new ideas for my own writing.
Play the ‘What If’ Game: Finally, I play the ‘What If’ game with my own work. What if my protagonist made the opposite decision? What if the villain has a change of heart? This not only helps me explore alternative plot avenues but also deepens my understanding of my characters. It’s a fun exercise that can turn the tables on writer’s block, transforming it from a roadblock into a crossroads brimming with potential paths.
These three strategies are my go-to remedies for writer’s block, helping me to navigate through the fog and back into the clear skies of creativity.
6. What did you enjoy the most when you wrote Dirty Books?
In “Dirty Books,” crafting the awkward dance of rediscovery between Carlie and Adam was a delight, particularly because of their unexpected reunion and the layers of miscommunication that followed. Their journey begins with a clandestine encounter at an exclusive club, a night cloaked in anonymity and electric connection, only for them to later face the daylight without the masks of their alter egos. This sets the stage for a series of delightfully cringe-worthy moments that are the heart of their story.
First off, the sheer awkwardness of Carlie finding out her new personal trainer is not “Ada,” as a typo led her to believe, but Adam—the very man from her one-night stand, albeit she’s blissfully unaware of this fact at the beginning. The realization doesn’t hit immediately, allowing for a comedic ballet of blunders and misunderstandings to unfold.
Imagine Carlie, prepared mentally and emotionally to meet a female trainer, only to be greeted by Adam, whose presence stirs an inexplicable blend of embarrassment and attraction in her, even as she remains oblivious to their prior encounter. The gym sessions that follow are riddled with clumsy mishaps, misinterpreted interactions, and the kind of flirty banter that walks the fine line between playful and mortifying, given Carlie’s misunderstanding about Adam’s identity.
Their story captures the essence of rom-com gold—two people, inexplicably drawn to each other, navigating the awkward first steps of attraction under the hilarious misapprehension that they are practically strangers, all while their shared history waits just beneath the surface, ready to complicate everything in the most entertaining way possible.
Writing “Dirty Books” was an exercise in embracing the messiness of human connection, the beauty of unexpected reunions, and the laughter that can be found in the most mortifying of circumstances.
7. Do you have a favourite character in Dirty Books?
Choosing a favorite character from “Dirty Books” is like picking a favorite star in the sky—each one shines brightly in its own way, contributing to the beauty of the night. While I could easily lean into the allure of Carlie with her heart on her sleeve and her penchant for landing in delightfully awkward situations, or Adam, whose depth and warmth slowly unravel throughout the story, there’s one character who unexpectedly steals the show: Grandma Edna.
Grandma Edna is a force of nature, a whirlwind of wisdom wrapped in cheeky innuendos and eye-twinkling mischief. It’s her lovable insight, dressed up in humor and delivered with the perfect timing of a seasoned comedian, that truly captures the heart. She’s the sage guiding light, her advice laced with a lifetime of experience and a dash of naughtiness, making her utterly irresistible.
Edna brings a refreshing perspective to the table, reminding us all to embrace life’s pleasures without apology and to laugh a little louder at the chaos. Her presence in “Dirty Books” is like a warm hug from the past, a connection to simpler times when love was bold, adventures were plentiful, and secrets were shared with a wink and a nod. She’s the grandmother everyone wishes they could share a secret or a scandalous joke with, knowing she’d not only keep it but add her own twist to the tale.
8. What has been your favourite read (aside from your own) this year?
Oh, where do I even begin? This year, I’ve devoured 13 books, and it’s been a wild ride of emotions, ranging from the urge to throw a book against the wall (lovingly, of course) to wanting to cradle one to sleep. Among my conquests were “Part of Your World” by Abby Jimenez, “Love Contact” by Sophie Lark, and “Home Again” by Melissa Grace… all amazing books, in their own right.
But, hold your horses, because the crown jewel of my reading escapade, the one that truly hijacked my romcom-loving heart, was none other than “The Reason I Married Him” by Meghan Quinn. Yes, Meghan Quinn, my personal romcom guru, who knows how to stir the pot of romance with the precision of a chef.
Now, why did this book, the second in the series, manage to win me over? Simple: the chef’s kiss-worthy enemies-to-lovers trope. Imagine the tension of a soufflé on the brink of collapse, but instead of eggs and flour, we’re dealing with glares and snark strong enough to cut through the thickest of wedding cakes. This book serves that tension by the ladleful, garnished with banter so sharp, I was worried for the safety of the characters’ egos. SO good!
9. Do you picture someone or something specific when you write?
When it comes to conjuring up the world and characters of my stories, it’s less about picturing someone specific from the get-go and more about letting the characters introduce themselves to me. It’s a bit like throwing a party in my mind where I’m not entirely sure who’s going to show up. Once they make their grand entrance, however, they’re ingrained in my brain, taking up residence with the kind of boldness only fictional characters can muster.
For example, with “Dirty Books,” it wasn’t that I had a clear image of Carlie and Adam from the start. Instead, Carlie waltzed into my thoughts one day, tripped over a metaphorical rug, and spilled her personality all over the floor of my imagination. Adam, on the other hand, leaned casually against the doorway of my mind, flashing a grin that said, “I’ve got stories you haven’t even dreamed of yet.” From that moment on, their faces, their mannerisms, and their voices were all I could see and hear. It’s as if they took the wheel, steering the story through every twist and turn with me just along for the ride, pen in hand.
This process is what makes writing such a thrilling adventure for me. I never quite know who will show up or what they’ll do, but once they’re there, they become as real to me as anyone I might meet on the street—albeit a lot more cooperative when it comes to navigating the plots I throw at them. So, in essence, my characters are the ones who come to me, vivid and vibrant, and from then on, they’re the only ones I see when I write their stories.
10. What’s next? Can we expect a new book soon?
The gears of my writerly mind are already turning, churning out the deliciously complicated concoctions that will become “Dirty Developments.” This next installment in the series is gearing up to be a rollercoaster of emotions, secrets, and, of course, that irresistible pull of undeniable attraction.
Anna and Joel’s story is one I’ve been itching to tell. Picture this: a brooding musician with a heart of gold hidden under layers of mystery and a dash of arrogance, and Anna, tech-savvy, fiercely independent, with a memory like an elephant—especially when it comes to grudges. Their past is a tangled web of secrets, a mysterious event from a decade ago that Anna hasn’t been able to let go of, and Joel hasn’t been able to explain.
But as fate would have it, their paths are about to cross again, and let’s just say, things are about to go DOWN. And I mean that in every sense of the word. We’re talking fiery arguments that could singe your eyebrows, moments so tender they’ll make your heart ache, and yes, scenes that will have you fanning yourself and looking around to make sure no one’s reading over your shoulder.
“Dirty Developments” isn’t just an enemies-to-lovers tale; it’s a journey of forgiveness, understanding, and the kind of love that can only be forged in the fires of shared history and undeniable chemistry. So, buckle up, because Anna and Joel are about to take you on a wild ride. And trust me, you don’t want to miss what’s about to unfold.
The goal is to have it out by September of this year. So, get on my email list or follow me on IG if you want the latest tea. Of course, you could read along as I write, by joining my Patreon, too! All valid life decisions!
Author Bio:
Carissa Knight is all about bringing the heat in every romance she writes, but making the journey as angsty and awkward as possible. (Because come on! What could be more fun than making the characters squirm?)
While she’s a new kid around the romcom block, Carissa’s actually been kicking out books for over a decade as award-winning & international bestselling author, Carissa Andrews. If you like paranormal or urban fantasy, check her out.
In the meantime, get ready for her brand new steamy romcom series, “The One Night Stand Club!”
Be sure to sign up for Carissa’s email list to stay on top (wink, wink) of her releases!
In the Shadow of the Truth Maci Aurora (Fareview Fairytale, #3.5) Publication date: April 9th 2024 Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Romance
The secrets Scarlett Fareview has hidden from her family are finally out in the open, but not without consequences. Alienating everyone she loves, she must face the hurt and betrayal she wrought with her duplicity. And the cost is high. In this series of novellas, the Fareveiws deal with the aftermath of Scarlett’s deception. Scarlett must face Tomas and her children, Brinna must determine if she and Luc can forge a future, and Auri and Nix face the next obstacle to their forever. Along with many other familiar characters, these stories bridge the gap between the end of In the Shadow of a Dream and the final book in the Fareview saga, In the Shadow of an Obsession.
When Tomas returned from the barn that afternoon, the sound of his boots on the floor captured her attention as she stood at the kitchen counter he’d made for her. His form in the doorway—wide and encompassing—was at first a buoying relief then a crushing disappointment.
She’d failed him.
He stalled, assessing, his eyes dragging along the countertop where she stood amidst a haphazard wreck of herbs—her supplies for making tinctures and medicines she took on calls and sold at the market.
“Did you mean to leave all your tools in the garden?” he asked. There wasn’t any accusation in his tone, only curiosity. “And the laundry undone in the wash basin?”
When she didn’t answer—because she couldn’t seem to align the words with meaning—he asked, “What’s going on here?”
Scarlett looked down at the mess she’d made, opened her mouth to tell him what she was doing, but her mind went blank. She couldn’t remember what she’d been doing. She didn’t know what she was doing anymore. The longer she looked at the greens, the pestle and mortar, the boiling pot, the less sense any of the disarray made.
“It’s chaos, Scar,” he said quietly next to her. “Unlike you.”
She looked up from the mess to his face, to his kind eyes shaped with concern.
Scar. She’d always loved the way he shortened her name, the only one who ever did.
Then without warning, she burst into tears, pressing the towel in her hands against her face as her grief, pain, worry, regret, disappointment wrenched out of her with horrific gasp. She’d ruined everything.
Tomas gathered her into his arms with soothing sounds. “Hush,” he whispered, his wide, heavy hand on the back of her head.
“I’m so sorry,” she sobbed, grasping hold of his shirt, her face pressed into the strength of his chest.
He held her.
“They’re gone,” she sobbed. “I failed.”
His arms squeezed her a touch tighter, and when his face pressed into the place between her neck and shoulder, Scarlett wrapped her arms around his neck, drawing up onto her toes, needing to be closer to his comfort.
“I failed too,” he whispered, his lips against her skin. “We both have.”
She shook her head. “Not you, Tomas.” She drew back to look at him.
Raising his head, his eyes connected with hers, the sadness a deep, evergreen forest swirling inside them where he was lost. And it was her fault. She knew this. Had pushed him to go against his nature by keeping her secrets, securing the spells.
Unsure about anything but the tumult of emotions she couldn’t seem to harness, Scarlett reached for comfort she knew he provided, a comfort she could reciprocate.
She kissed him, her hands framing his face, his beard soft against her palms.
He froze, tension tightening his shoulders.
And she thought he might pull away, but suddenly he was kissing her back, capitulating, needing, seeking. His tongue sought entrance, and she granted it. It was hungry, two souls on the periphery of starvation, finding one another in the darkness.
Author Bio:
Romance author.
Lover of stories.
Maci Aurora has been writing stories since she was a child. When she was eleven, she fell in love with reading Sunfire Historical Romances about girls who made a difference in their lives and still fell in love. In high school, a friend introduced her to Lavyrle Spencer and Judith McNaught, and from there, her writing journey was cemented in telling stories about love. Having already published many novels (all of which are threaded with romance as upper YA and New Adult titles) under the pen name, CL Walters, Maci Aurora wanted to write stories that offered the same attention to story and characters but with additional steam.
Maci writes in Hawaiʻi where she lives with her husband, their children, and their fur-babies.
Lady Cosa Nostra: Victoria’s Secrets Contel Bradford (Lady Cosa Nostra, #1) Publication date: April 8th 2024 Genres: Adult, Mafia, Romance
Born to a struggling African American mother and a successful Italian American father, Victoria Russo is destined for greatness. But her journey is fraught with pain, drama, and trauma beyond her years. From the treacherous schoolyard to the shadowy depths of the mafia underworld, this coming-of-age story defies convention at every turn.
The first in a trilogy, Victoria’s Secrets: Lady Cosa Nostra spins a gripping journey of resilience, identity, and survival against all odds.
Victoria stammered into the living room, buzzed from healthy swigs of sweet and syrupy cheap liquor. She could hear her mother in the kitchen, bitching someone out on the phone. Rosaline was always in a pissy mood. No matter the time of day. The fact that school had let out hours ago meant she was probably incensed on another plateau of rage. Victoria strategically crept pass her mother and upstairs to her bedroom, hoping she hadn’t tipped off the drunken giant.
“What a day,” Victoria sighed as she flopped down on her messy bed. Physically, mentally, and emotionally drained from the events of the past ten hours, she stretched out, confident that she could sleep for another ten.
Sure, there were guys here and there, but Victoria never had what she’d call a boyfriend. On that note, she might have two to call her own in Donnell and Damon⸺—if she played her cards right. Commemorating an official relationship with either would bolster her presence by a few precious notches. Things were looking up. Well, minus whatever repercussions stemmed from that one-sided fight with big bad Keisha. Before she could further relish in the wonderful world of what-if, cold hard reality came banging at her bedroom door.
God dang it. Victoria huffed and braced for the inevitable showdown, knowing she couldn’t win this one. “Come in!”
Rosaline barged in and wasted no time in unloading a barrage of verbal fury. “I am so sick and tired of yo ole triflin’ ass! What you doin’ fightin’ in school? Huh?!”
Victoria sat up and instantly went into panic mode, mind scrambling to decipher how her mother got wind of the fight. She figured she could at least table the issue on the back burner until tomorrow. In reality, none of that even mattered. Didn’t matter who or what instigated the incident. Heads were set to roll, and her noggin was square on the chopping block.
“Ma, it wasn’t even my fault,” Victoria pleaded her case. “She the one …”
“Shut the hell up!”Rosaline had heard enough. She silenced Victoria with a slap that echoed throughout the room, daring the rebellious teen to question her authority. “I don’t wanna hear it, Victoria! They talkin’ bout expelling you from school … permanently. Well guess what … you get kicked outta school, you kicked outta my house! I’m done wit your no good ass!”
Rosaline stomped out of the room, ire raised higher than when she entered. That’s that. No chance for Victoria to appeal with her version of the truth. Rosaline flew off the handle, straight into Psycho Mom town, where she then proceeded to lay the smack down. Victoria never spoke it. Hell, she tried not to even think it into existence. But right then and there, she declared seething hatred for her very own mother. The self-indulgent, crack blazing, booze guzzling whore who never cared for anyone other than herself. Certainly not her one and only child. If Victoria made good on a single promise, accomplished one goal in life, it was to get the hell out of Rosaline’s house ASAP.
Author Bio:
Born and raised in Detroit, Michigan, Contel Bradford is a seasoned freelance writer and author of multiple fiction tales. Though he is perhaps best known for reality-based hardcore urban fiction titles such as Thug Nation, he is quickly gaining a reputation as a compelling voice in the increasingly popular genre of erotica. Boasting a unique style that combines high-level writing with energetic, engaging storytelling, Contel has emerged as that author you must have in your reading rotation!
The Omega Archives: Escalation Erik Melendez Publication date: January 31st 2024 Genres: Science Fiction, Young Adult
Alex Connors returns for a new mission in The Omega Archives: Escalation. But this time, he must take on the most dangerous man in the world: Axel. A super soldier with years of combat experience, Axel is seemingly one step ahead of Alex in every way. What Alex thought would be a breeze turns out to be anything but. He’s still fighting the brainwashing from his training in the Omega Project, which prevents him from feeling fully human. Alex must figure out a way to outsmart and stop Axel . . . without losing what’s left of his humanity.
We sprinted after the last guy who was running through the desert area. My heart pounded as I sprinted after the guy. All I could think about was tackling this guy to the ground and beating the shit out of him. The field seemed like an endless desert of sand and dried-out plants. The last guy made a hard turn into what looked like a cave entrance. The entrance hand a big concrete shaft leading inside with black water pouring out of it. We stopped and shined our flashlights into the cave, but saw nothing. Barns and I went inside. It was dark and smelled like a port-a-potty that hadn’t been cleaned in years; we heard rats squeaking and the echoes of water dripping in the distance. Being in there made my stomach feel like it was going to blow up and I felt like I would never eat again. We walked on until we arrived at a very large room. I went in, and the gate slammed shut behind me. The slamming echoed throughout the room and it froze my heart.
I turned and ran towards the gate. “Hey let me out!” I said. I tried pulling on the bars and kicking the gate down, but it was too strong. “Come on, let me out!”
I tried contacting Max on my radio. “Max, do you copy?” I asked.
“Alex… can you hear…” Max said. My radio went static.
“Long live the Union,” Barnes said as he backed off and sunk into the darkness of the cave. My heart dropped into my stomach as he backed off.
“Long live the Union, indeed!” Another man said in a British accent.
Some lights flashed behind me. I slowly turned around.
it was Axel.
“Alex Connors, we meet at last,” he said in a soft voice as he took a few steps towards me. “I have been looking forward to this for so long.”
A wave of anxiety hit me like a truck. He was a lot bigger in person, but not too big just big enough to pose a threat. I couldn’t take my attention off of how much bigger he was in person.
All around was rock and water. I could hear water flowing nearby only to pour out into a drain. I immediately pulled out my rifle and aimed it at him, ready to shoot as that feeling in my stomach came back.
“Please put down the weapons. You can’t kill all of us,” Axel said.
I looked up, and saw the next level up; a large group of Axels’ men were armed with machine guns and assault rifles. My entire body was covered with laser sight dots like a Christmas tree. My heart froze up as I pictured myself getting blown away.
“They all have armor-piercing bullets, and clear shots,” Axel said.
I put down my rifle, pistol, and knife. The clank of my rifle and pistol hitting the ground echoed in the room. I stood there feeling naked as I took some breaths, trying to calm myself down.
“So you’re Axel? What do you want?”
“Ah, straight to business huh?” he said, smiling.
“You know I have orders to bring you in, right?” I said.
Axel walked closer to me, seeming to grow bigger with each step. “Oh, I am aware of your mission, indeed,” he said “You think I don’t know you, Alex? I’ve been watching you for some time now,” he said while still speaking in his soft voice.
I started to sweat. I wiped my head while I tried to process my thoughts. I continued to try and get my mind off my feelings as I focused on Axel.
“Yeah. Well, to me, you are just another terrorist on some kind of mission. An anarchist,” I said as Axel laughed.
“Ah, so young and still so much to learn. I have been doing this far longer then you have,” he said.
“Age does have its advantages,” I said.
“As well as its disadvantages,” Axel replied.
“Why did you attack the Pentagon?” I asked as I walked closer to him.
Axel started to walk to me. “Easy. I needed to draw attention.”
“By killing innocent people?”
“Ha! Just another stereotypical word: Innocent. Please, Alex, those people were just expendable assets, just like everyone else.”
“We will see about that,” I said as I walked towards him.
At that moment, all I thought about was beating Axel to a pulp. I ran up to him and struck at him with all the strength I had. His steel-like body just absorbed the strikes, taking little to no damage whatsoever. I threw another right hook. He blocked it and threw an uppercut elbow to my face, knocking me back, then a spin kick to my chest, kicking me into a pile of bricks. I felt like someone had hit my solar plexus with a sledgehammer as I tried to breathe. All I could think about was the pain as I lay there like I was a plant being eaten by rodents. I rubbed my jaw, trying to ease the pain, and my body was covered in sweat and dust. The Mercenaries just stood by and watched.
“Your confidence has gotten the best of you. You have been fighting so much of these mere humans that you believe yourself to be unstoppable. You proclaim that you are a super-soldier. But really you are just a boy,” he said.
As I laid there, feeling like my body was crushed by a wrecking ball, I kept thinking about my training. I could still hear the trainer shouting at me to control my emotions. I closed my eyes and breathed, trying to get my mind off of my feelings.
“I’ve beaten people like you before,” I said as I got up slowly, trying to fight through the pain.
I did a spin kick to his face with Axel leaning back, slightly dodging it. I then did a spin side kick to him, with him blocking it, followed by a spin jump kick to his chest, which seemingly did nothing to him. I threw more hooks to his face with every bit of strength I had. When I went to throw the third, he grabbed my fist and started squeezing it like an empty Coke can; several snapping sounds emerged from my hand. I could feel the bones in my fist being slowly crushed like wood, and it was all I could focus on. I screamed in pain as I slowly dropped to my knees. I tried to break his grip, but it was as strong as steel. My right hand was practically destroyed.
“All this strength and no coordination. You are truly an amateur,” he said as he pushed me to the ground. He then did a powerful bottom fist strike to my back, which felt like being hit by a pipe wrench.
I took another breath, trying not to explode with anger so I don’t throw up, then got up and went to do another spinning jump kick. While I was in mid-air, Axel punched me directly in the solar plexus, knocking me down. All the air was knocked out of me again, and I could barely breathe. He then picked me up and threw me into a wall. A bang followed as I hit the floor. My body felt like all the bones were broken into bits, and I could not get up. My mind was glued to the pain as it settled. As I lay there, Axel walked up and crouched next to me.
“I understand what you are going through. You’ve spent half of your life training, and now you are split. Every day you contend with adapting to human life. These humans have corrupted your mind, but I can help you. I can save you from them. Please let me help you,” he said. His voice was pretty calm and soothing for a terrorist.
I slowly picked myself up, feeling like my body was going to break into pieces at any second. My arms felt like they were weighed down by trucks, and my chest weighed a ton. I gripped my broken wrist as I tried to find my balance.
“I don’t need your help!” I said, standing ready.
“Very well then,” he said as he did a spinning heel kick to my face, knocking me out. From there it was just blackness and nothing.
Author Bio:
Erik Melendez is a young adult novelist, graduated from t Henry Ford College, and martial arts enthusiast. He holds a black belt in Kung Fu and is skilled in firearms and other weaponry. In high school, he worked his way up to a cadet lieutenant junior grade for the NJROTC program, where he participated on the drill team, physical fitness team, and academic team. An avid fan of Star Wars, Star Trek, and Doctor Who, Erik gleans plenty of inspiration for writing action-packed sci-fi stories. He is the author of The Omega Archives and lives in Livonia, Michigan.
Dirty Books
Author Bio:
Echos Of Books 