~~Fated and Forbidden Box Set Blog Tour with Giveaway!~~
Fated and Forbidden Box Set
by
Danielle Annett, Dina Given, E.J. Whitmer, Siana Wineland, Tom
Shutt, Amy Stearman, M.S. Dobing, A.L. Kessler, Frances Pauli, Rebecca N
Caudill
Blurb:
Ten heroes and heroines are up against unknown forces of
darkness—good thing they all have supernatural skills and abilities—it's just
too bad that not all of them are sure what to do with them yet. Powerful allies
are hard to come by and lines are blurred when it becomes difficult to tell
friend from foe. Delve in to ten unique worlds full of vampires, witches,
mages, dream-stalkers, fallen deities, monsters and even super heroes!
Supernatural skills may be enough to save them... but only if they can figure
out how to wield them in time.
All stories are first in a series!
Available to purchase at
Excerpts
Cursed by Fire by Danielle
Annett
All I saw was blood. Blood soaked my hands and coated the walls. It stained the concrete
flooring of the abandoned warehouse and dripped from fixtures that hung
from the ceiling, trickling like a slow rain. My vision blurred as anguish
filled me. How could this have happened? How could I have been too late?
I stared down at the lifeless body of a child. A boy. Kneeling in a pool of congealing
blood, I ran my fingers through his chestnut hair, ignoring the now-cool moisture
seeping into the denim of my pants. His face was unrecognizable. Gone was
the child with the dimpled cheek and brilliant blue eyes. Left behind was a
mass of flesh and bone — a ruined body drained of its life force at such a young
age.
Reality snapped like an elastic band, bringing me back to the present as I sat at my desk
in Sanborn Place.
Ripped from the haunted memories of finding Daniel’s
body.
The world was a cruel place. Itwas a fact of life and even though I knew it was true, I
still had a hard time coming to terms with the atrocities people committed. The
cruelties that for some god-forsaken reason, people thought were okay.
Staring down at the wallet-sized photo now crumpled in my hands, I was
greeted by a crown of chestnut hair, bright blue eyes, a heart-shaped face, and
a brilliant smile; a single dimple on his left cheek. The face of an innocent
seven-year-old boy, cut down like he was little more than a calf brought to
slaughter. I found myself struggling to link the image of this smiling boy
to that of the ruined body I’d found less than forty-eight hours
ago.
Unhidden
by Dina Given
Cold marble pressed against my face, numbing my cheek. My stomach roiled from
the spinning of the room, threatening to release my dinner. I took a deep,
ragged breath and tried to keep the dizziness under control. A voice in my head
screamed at me to get up and defend myself, but my body wouldn’t obey. With a
herculean effort, I pulled my legs under me in an effort to rise.
I
felt the vibration in the floor before I heard the heavy thud of footsteps.
The bastard was back
for more. It must be my lucky day. A vice clamped around my ankles, and I slid along the
smooth stone floors of the mansion. Crystal chandeliers and Renaissance paintings
streaked across my vision as I was pulled through an open
doorway.
I twisted and flailed, scrabbling to clutch the doorframe to stop my
relentless slide into the darkened room. I tried to make it a rule to never be
forced into a room when I didn’t know what lay within.
I managed a weak handhold on the doorframe, but with a sharp tug, my
captor caused me to easily
lose my grip. He—because only a man could own hands that
large and strong—“accidentally” slammed me into a coffee table
before coming to a stop without releasing
me.
The concussive grenade that was triggered when I had been finishing my
sweep of the last room
in the mansion had left my temples throbbing, preventing
me from lifting my head to get a good look at my captor. I needed to pull
myself together if I was going to fight my way out of here.
Swallowing hard, I took a silent inventory of my injuries: a few bruises, no
broken bones, no
bleeding. Sweet. This was going to be easier than I’d
thought.
Power Surge
by E.J. Whitmer:
Blake sighed and pushed his empty plate away from him. “You
called me last night at about 1: 30am. The only words I could
make out were ‘jaeger’ ‘nipples’ and ‘spandex’. I hopped in my car and headed
over here to find you standing in your kitchen wearing only your underwear and
trying to stuff your entire face in a pint of ice cream. Apparently you were
out of spoons.”
That explained why I had sticky
eyebrows.
I held my head in my hands and groaned as he continued. “I
told you to get some pajamas on. You wanted my shirt. You took
it. Thankfully you turned around while you were putting it on. I made you
drink a glass of water and tucked you into bed. I wasn’t sure how much you’d had
to drink, so I checked in on you every couple of hours. I provided you
with early morning eye candy. I made you delicious cheesy eggs. I think that’s
about it.”
I opened one eye to look at him. “Did you see my boobs?”
His face split into a panty melting grin. “No. I was a
gentleman. I only gawked at your
ass.”
Emergence
by Siana Wineland:
Shivering barefoot in the darkness, Jessica hid and watched the
recovery team flip lights
on in her house. Panic tried to set icy claws in her gut,
but she pushed it away ruthlessly. The arrival of the recovery team
confirmed her worst fear: she must have started the
change.
She’d done her best to deny this possibility. But reality now walked through her home, leaving her in the cold and
dark.
She took a deep breath. Fear of what was to come had to take a backseat.
A large, lean man with shoulder-length blond hair entered her bedroom. He moved with the grace of a predator, her eyes
widened when he turned, allowing her to see the suede of his wings fall
gracefully down his back like a dark
cloak.
They’ve sent a Hunter! Her mind froze in panic. Why is there a Hunter here? Recovery teams only have unchanged people in
them.
The Valkyrie stopped and sniffed the air, scenting her, before walking over to the window and examining it. He spread
his wings, the large fan covering the glass to block the light from behind him.
Fascinated, she stared, transfixed at the way the light shone through the
membrane of his wings.
She felt her mind slowing again. Fruitlessly, she fought the lethargy that was her body’s natural response to the
changes taking place within
it.
It wasn’t long before the Hunter’s eyes found hers, their
intensity boring into her, and he smiled a slow feral
smile.
A Time Apart
by Rebecca Norinne
Caudill:
As Olivia moved
out of William’s arms, he didn’t fight her but his hands lingered as she
slid away, as if he was trying to hold onto something significant, and for the
first time, Olivia could see quite clearly he was no ordinary
man.
“What are you?” she asked, her voice barely audible above the logs crackling in the
fire.
“You know me then,” was his anguished response.
How could she respond? Prior to the extensive research she’d conducted the night before,
she would have sworn she had never seen him a day in her
life. But that wasn’t entirely true, for she knew now that she had
seen him while she dreamed. She had seen him lying beside her, touching the most private
parts of her body. And just last night she’d fantasized about
making mad, passionate love to him outside, under the stars. And now she
realized it had all happened before, perhaps hundreds of times. She knew this man
intimately … but not the nightmare version of him, the man who had killed her.
But more importantly, she realized, Olivia didn’t know herself – that woman from a
time long forgotten.
“Who ... what ... am I then?” Fear and trepidation laced
her voice.
“Unfortunately, I don’t know much about who you are today.” His voice broke with emotion.
“I only know who you were and when you
were. In the year 1658, you were Ceara, my fierce
beauty. You were my wife and I loved you more than you
can know.”
William paused, waiting for her to interrupt with more questions, but when she remained
mute, he continued speaking. “If asked when I was still the man you
remember, I would have said
I’d give anything – my life, even – for
you. Instead, I took it.”
As his memories drifted back hundreds of years, his face became a mask of loathing. He remembered, in starkly vivid detail, the exact moment he had chased his
beloved Ceara down,
broke her neck, and then sucked her body dry.
While
Olivia watched him struggle through his recollections, she wondered how he could have
turned on her. What had she done to deserve that fate? And who –
what – was he that he could force these terrible memories to
the surface?
“If I was … am … Ceara, who are you?” she asked, not quite sure she was ready to hear his
answer.
“My name is William Macauley and, as you might have guessed, I’m a
vampire.”
Familiar
by Frances Pauli:
She stared at the graffiti and centered, took a deep breath
and imagined her roots reaching down, down into the earth. Her head spun a
little. She reached for the door with her free hand and pressed her palm against
fresh red paint.
Running through dark woods. A round moon overhead that set fear in her steps instead of
awe. Why was she running again? Midnight, dogs barking behind her and the
man. Her heart seized and she tripped over her own feet, sprawled forward
toward hard roots and cold dirt. The man chasing her wanted blood
tonight.
"Ms. Wallace?"
Deirdre blinked and saw blood, red dribbles against
white.
"Ms. Wallace, are you
alright?"
Paint. She lifted her hand and stared at it. Red paint on her
skin. A voice called from behind her, but it was light out. There was no moon,
no danger. She turned around and found cops on her steps. The short one, she
knew. Officer Peg Stone had taken her call that morning, in fact, but Deirdre had
never expected to actually see the woman. Still, there was the patrol car
parked below, and behind Stone stood a policeman with dark
eyes.
Deirdre's porch rippled like water. Her hand reached again, splatted against the nasty word but held her upright
while the dizziness swirled around and
around.
No More Black Magic
by A.L.
Kessler:
I’d never met the Alpha, but I knew this was him. His black
hair was cut short and his brown gaze cut into me. He stood
tall and demanded attention. Like Simon, he was dressed in older clothes,
and I assumed it meant they wouldn’t care if they got ruined. The muscles of his
arms were solid and his chest strained against the tight muscle shirt that he
wore. Yeah, I wouldn’t stand a chance in a fight against this guy, even
if he was human.
Simon bowed his head.
“Alpha.”
“Simon, so this is her?” His eyes ran over my body and I
raised a brow. I had dressed in my normal black clothes with
boots. I had, as requested, left the gun in the car, but my blade was sheathed across
my back, hidden by my jacket.
Simon put a hand on my back and urged me to step
forward.
“I’m Abigail.” I offered my hand, but Greg grabbed my wrist
and jerked me forward. I caught myself with a hand against
his chest.
“You are a threat to my people, you offer me the back of your
neck in submission.” He growled. “Do you understand
that?”
I gritted my teeth and pulled my braid away from the back of
my neck and bowed low enough that I offered it to him. My verbal answer wouldn’t have been good enough.
He was trying to show off his strength, his power, and I was willing to bet other
members of the pack were watching from the windows of the cabin. Arguing with
him wouldn’t have done me any
good.
Brooding City
by Tom
Shutt:
“So what exactly would I do as a Sleeper? I’ve heard only bad things, and that was when I still thought you were just a
bedtime story. If even half of it is
true—”
“We do what is necessary to protect this city,” Benjamin said tightly. “There are forces that are simply too powerful
and mysterious to be handled by the police. We are the self-appointed
protectors of the people.”
“That’s
a great pitch, but I meant day-to-day, what will I be doing?”
Old
Ben contemplated this question for a long moment before answering. “There is no right or wrong in this world,
Jeremy. You must understand that in order to bring balance to others, we
must first find balance within ourselves. This will not be an easy life, nor one
filled with thanks from those you help—they will never even know you were there.
You will make hard choices, decisions that will leave others bereft of their
autonomy. But with my guiding hand, you will accomplish great deeds and protect
countless innocents during your
service.”
“That still doesn’t answer—”
“You will kill. You will maim. You will steal, lie, and
deceive. Nobody will know who you are, or what you do, or when or
where you will strike next. The people will never acknowledge your sacrifices,
and they will continue to fear and despise the myth that you
represent.”
There was a pregnant pause before Benjamin spoke
again.
“Do you have what it takes?” he
asked.
Altered
by Amy
Steaman:
The first
snowflakes of the year rode their fat bodies lazily down to the
empty sidewalk Sadie Pratt trudged along. If she looked up, the old fashioned
streetlights would illuminate their glittery brethren. But she didn’t look
up. A cold winter wind was demanding attention she didn’t care to give as she
shifted her eyes toward her destination at the end of the street. As if
irritated with her neglect, a particularly breathy gust reached out and
freed her auburn waves from a loose bun. In response, she tucked her chin deeper
into the plaid scarf wrapped around her neck and quickened her
footfalls.
Sadie’s
mood was as dark as the cloud-heavy sky hanging above her. Her boss,
Harvey McDonnell, of McDonnell and Loeb Law Office had rung her out of a
study-induced trance thirty minutes before.
“Sadie, I
need you in the office in thirty,” like it was a common request. Like
it wasn’t 9:30 on a
Thursday night. Like she wasn’t drowning in the middle of
finals!
She reached
the pristine brick façade that stood with pride in the little
college town of Weston’s historic business district and flung the door
wide. The gratuitous cowbell hanging on the handle let out its hollow ring.
Harvey was already there, so instead of turning on the lights and starting a
pot of coffee as per her usual routine, Sadie dumped her heavy bag without
ceremony at the receptionist’s desk and marched back to his office.
Harvey’s
watery grey eyes rose over the edge of his half-rimmed glasses to
meet her steely glare then traveled down her slim frame covered in an overly
long flannel, black leggings and combat boots. He chuffed. “You look
nice.”
“I’ll wear
proper business attire during proper business hours,” she shot back, fists coming to rest on
hips.
The Message Bearer
by M.S.
Dobing:
It didn’t so much as walk out of the dark - it
oozed. Its form coalesced from the gloom, a slight shimmering in the
air, a shifting of shadows, before condensing into something resembling a
human that now stood, unmoving, just at the periphery of the
streetlight.
Yet this was no
human.
Unnaturally tall, easily touching seven feet, the thing wore a
dark suit that hung loosely off a pencil-thin frame. Its head
was dipped, its face hidden beneath a black fedora with a single silver band.
As he watched, the creature’s head rose. Black eyes met his. Something cold
trickled down his spine.
It began to move forwards, its movement jerky, as if it were animated by invisible string. Its mouth opened into a
wide grin, jaw distending to almost impossible proportions, displaying a set of
dagger-like incisors.
‘You see it,
don’t you?’
He’d forgotten she was even there. He looked back at the
woman, managing the barest of nods. She reached out to him, her
hand shaking.
‘Come with me.’
About The
Authors
Danielle Annett is
a reader, writer, photographer, and the blogger behind Coffee and Characters.
You can learn more about Danielle on her website at Danielle-Annett.com or
follow her on facebook at https://www.facebook.com/AuthorDanielleAnnett
and
on twitter @Danielle_Annett
M.S. Dobing lives
in Preston, UK with his wife and twin daughters. His first novel, Message
Bearer, is the first in his urban fantasy series, The Auran Chronicles, the
sequel to which is due out in the first half of 2016. Follow him at
https://www.facebook.com/AuranChronicles?hc_location=ufi
Dina Given has been
an avid fan of fantasy in all of its permutations since childhood. She is
convinced that magic lives on in this world, and she is doing her part to bring
a piece of it to readers. Follow her at
https://www.facebook.com/DinaGivenAuthor/
A.L. Kessler is a
paranormal romance author residing in beautiful Colorado Springs, Co. Since she
was a teenager she has loved spinning tales. She can easily be won over with
gifts of coffee or chocolate. You can follow her at www.facebook.com/alkesslerauthor
Tom Shutt writes
paranormal suspense with generous helpings of humor and a sprig of mystery
thrown in for good measure. Sometimes he dabbles in fantasy, but in all cases,
he strives to push the boundaries of modern fiction in search of good answers
to hard questions.
E. J. Whitmer is
the author of the Anna Jennings Super Novels, an avid reader, amateur karaoke
rockstar and professional awkward turtle. Follow her on facebook at https://www.facebook.com/ejwhitmerauthor/
Amy Stearman is an
avid reader and writer of stories, hailing from the Midwest. She lives in the
liberal mecca of Kansas with her husband, young son, and ornery Sheltie. Find
her on facebook at https://www.facebook.com/AuthorAmyStearman/
Siana Wineland
lives in the beautiful, but soggy, Olympic Peninsula of
Washington state. She spends much of her time shepherding her young children,
or the goats and sheep she raises. Sometimes it's hard to tell them apart on
the farm, unless you hold out a vegetable. For updates on her writing please
visit her website at www.sianawineland.com
Rebecca N. Caudill
writes contemporary & paranormal romance featuring smart, kickass
females & the men who adore them. Learn more about her and her books at
www.rebeccancaudill.com or follow her on twitter
@rebecca_caudill
Frances Pauli
writes speculative fiction, usually with touches of humor
or romance, which means, of course, that she has trouble choosing sides. She's
always been a fan of things outside the box, odd, weird or unusual, and that
trend follows through to her tales which feature aliens, fairies, and even, on
occasion, an assortment of humans. More information on her work and upcoming
releases can be found on her website:
http://francespauli.com
Giveaway
Winner’s Choice Amazon Kindle Fire OR Amazon Echo
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