Esher by Felicity Heaton Cover Reveal

About the Book

Felicity Heaton

Prince of the Underworld and Lord of Water, Esher was banished from his home by his father, Hades, two centuries ago and given a new duty and purpose—to keep our world and his from colliding in a calamity foreseen by the Moirai.

Together with his six brothers, he fights to defend the gates to the Underworld from daemons bent on breaching them and gaining entrance to that forbidden land, striving to protect his home from their dark influence. Tormented by his past, Esher burns with hatred towards mortals and bears a grudge against Hades for forcing him into their world, condemning him to a life of battling to keep a fragile hold on his darker side—a side that wants to kill every human in the name of revenge.
Until he finds himself stepping in to save a female—a beautiful mortal filled with light and laughter who draws him to her as fiercely as the pull of the moon, stirring conflict in his heart and rousing dangerous needs long forgotten.
Aiko knows from the moment she sets eyes on the black-haired warrior that he is no ordinary man, just as she’s no ordinary woman. Blessed with a gift, she can see through his stormy façade to the powerful god beneath, and the pain and darkness that beats inside him—pain she grows determined to heal as she falls deeper under his spell and into his world.
When the daemon bent on turning Esher against his brothers makes her move, will Esher find the strength to overcome his past and fulfil his duty, or will the lure of revenge allow the darkness in his heart to seize control, transforming him into a god intent on destroying the world?

The special sneak preview for Esher begins on March 16th, exclusive to Felicity’s mailing list. Every subscriber is entered into the giveaway to win a signed personalised paperback copy of Esher, with a chance to win a copy in each of the four exclusive sneak peek chapters being sent out.
Not only will joining her mailing list ensure you’re in with a chance of winning one of the signed copies of Esher, it means you’ll start receiving her newsletters, where she gives away 2 x $25 Amazon Gift Cards in each issue, and rewards subscribers with exclusive excerpts, teasers, flash fiction and cover reveals, and plenty of fun! Plus, you’ll receive FOUR FREE EBOOKS in her Series Starter Library just for signing up!

Esher drew his hand away from his right side and frowned at the blood coating his palm. It caught the light of the narrow signs that jutted out from each building, running their entire height to mark what was on each floor, and reflected white, red and yellow back at him.
The wound would heal rapidly, not like the wraith wound, but he would have to conserve his strength until it had knitted back together, which meant he couldn’t teleport home. Stepping, as he and his brothers called it, would drain him, and it was only just gone one in the morning, meaning there were still another four or five hours of darkness in which another daemon could attempt to find the gate.
Or a Hellspawn, one of the accepted species in his father’s eyes and one allowed to enter the Underworld via the gates, could call on him to open it.
So, he would have to do the unthinkable.
Public transport.
He ground his molars and reached into the breast pocket of his shirt, tugged the tiny headphones out and jammed them into his ears. Instantly, the soothing melody of Bach filled him, swamping the song of the rain and the grating noise of Tokyo.
Esher took a few deep breaths, giving the beautiful classical piece time to do its work, and then trudged forwards, past the two dead daemons. He didn’t look at the dead mortal as he passed the male, kept moving onwards on auto-pilot, slowly constructing a wall of calm inside himself, a barrier that would shut the world out and allow him to venture down into the train station and tolerate the presence of the mortals as they surrounded him.
Crowded him.
As the strings rose, he spotted the airplane-wing canopy that stretched above the central entrance of Tokyo station, extending from the glass skyscraper to its right. Clouds swirled around the top of the towering structure, glowing yellow from the city lights. The rain continued to pour, soothing Esher as much as the music, but as he approached the entrance and the number of mortals rose, hurrying to catch the last trains, his grip on calm began to weaken.
He could do this.
He balled his right hand into a fist, and grimaced as the cut across his forearm stung as his muscles flexed beneath it, a flash of fire that tested him. He breathed deep, letting the flare of irritation fade without affecting his mood.
He was calm. In control.
Calm. Control.
Esher breathed through it, steeled himself and moved forwards, avoiding the busier paths into the building.
It was only a short trip. Barely fifteen minutes. He could do this.
A mortal female passed close to him and he tensed, his breath seizing in his throat as he leaned to avoid her even though she was more than ten feet away.
Calm. Control.
Keras would fucking kill him if he lost his shit and caused a bloodbath. His oldest brother had lectured him more than once about playing nice around the weak little mortals. By the gods, he tried. He could almost tolerate them now. He had even managed to speak with some when he was feeling strong, able to cope with breathing the same air as them.
But he wasn’t feeling strong.
The coppery odour of blood clouded his senses, tugging at his memories, and it was hard to keep them shut out, to hold the wall of calm in place.
He shoved the bloodied fingers of his right hand through the longer lengths of his black hair, pushing the damp strands out of his face, and scrubbed at the shorter sides.
He could do this.
He took another step towards the building, a pressing sense of urgency building inside him and driving him to move as he picked up the warning over the public-address system. It was last train time.
Now or never.
He froze as a male passed him, flicking a glance his way that turned into a double-take before he pivoted on his heel and hurried away from the station.
Esher touched his face, drew his hand away and looked at his fingers. Black smeared their pads. Daemon blood.
He huffed, grabbed the handkerchief he always kept in the back pocket of his dark blue jeans and wiped the blood away, scrubbing his neck and face, and then his hand to clear it of both daemon and his own blood.
It took barely a second for the blood to roll back down to his fingers. He buttoned his coat to hide the crimson stain on his shirt, tugged the sleeve back and wrapped the handkerchief around his forearm, covering the wound there. It would have to do.
The last of the mortals ran into the building ahead of him.
Esher strode towards it, his left hand closing over his right side again as the wound below his ribs burned. He pressed hard against it, stopping the flow of blood down his side, and trudged forwards, moving as quickly as he could manage.
The lights inside the station stung his eyes and he lowered his head, letting the hand-length ribbons of his black hair fall forwards over his brow to shield them. He kept his head bent as he hurried past the closed shops towards the Yamanote Line. It would stop at Yoyogi Park and he could walk from there. The streets in that neighbourhood would be quiet.
Unlike the immense room around him.
Someone almost ran into him as they rushed towards the ticket barriers, and he bared his teeth at their back. Keras would have to forgive him if someone bumped him, because he wasn’t sure he had the strength to stop himself from hurting them.
It was leaking from him as he passed his bloodied right hand over the card reader on the barrier, using his abilities to force it to open for him. It swung open and he passed through, scanned the area ahead of him and spotted the sign for the line. It was further than he remembered. He was going to have to use a little bit of power to make it to the train.
Not stepping. Just running.
He clutched his side and sprinted, passing the mortals with ease, and reached the platform just as the last train pulled in. He boarded at the first door, and moved down through the carriages until he found one that was quiet.
The seats near the next car were empty, so he slumped into them, arranging himself in a way that put off the mortals who were eyeing the spot beside him. He looked at his bloodied hand, felt a few mortals glancing there too, and then moving away. He was tempted to wipe it on his jacket, but since it was acting as a nice deterrent, he kept it on show. Another barrier to keep the mortals at bay.
He couldn’t believe he had been reduced to using public transport. He eyed a few of the humans, issuing glares to the braver ones who looked as if they might chance it and sit beside him on the three-seater bench. Wretched creatures. The wall of calm cracked a little, and he drew in a deep breath. Mistake. His right ribs protested, a sharp pain echoing along them from the wound, worsening his mood and adding a few more cracks to the wall.
He closed his eyes as the train pulled away, meaning to shut out the crowded carriage so he could claw back the calm.
Not meaning to fall asleep.
He woke with a jolt as the train rounded a bend, and his black eyebrows pinched in a frown as he swept his blue gaze around the carriage. It was almost empty.
“Fuck,” he muttered and peered out of the window, trying to see where he was as he silently berated himself for succumbing to sleep around so many humans. They weren’t to be trusted. Fuck knew how many of them might have taken the opportunity to kill him if they had known what he was.
Building after building whizzed past outside, none of them standing out to him. The damned city looked the same no matter where he went in it. He rubbed his tired eyes and squinted at the display screen above the doors. Broken. Just his luck.
Had he missed his stop?
He looked at the two people in his carriage, assessing them, and then squeezed his hand over his side as he leaned forwards and looked to his left, into the next one. Five people in that one, none of them a threat.
He leaned back into the padded seat.
A shriek rose from his left.
Esher edged forwards again and glared into the next carriage. A petite raven-haired female with bunches and a fringe that cut a straight line above her eyebrows swatted at a male with her black backpack. Her thick-soled patent leather shoes skidded on the floor of the car as she swung again, causing her short black dress to rise up and reveal the tops of her stripy black and white stockings.
A little Lolita with a vicious streak.
Or a terrified little Lolita.
He canted his head, trying to figure out which one it was, and growing increasingly annoyed and disgusted with everyone in her carriage as they all pretended not to notice her plight.
“Chikan!” Pervert.
A public transport one in particular.
The male grabbed her again, snapping his hand tight around her delicate wrist.
Still no one moved to help her.
Why the fuck was he forced to protect a people who cared nothing about their own kind? No Hellspawn or god would tolerate this female’s cries.
She battered the male again, but the bastard pulled her towards him, undeterred.
Esher growled and shoved to his feet, not pausing to consider what he was about to do.
He was going to save a human for the first time in his life.
Books in the Series

Book 4: Marek – Coming in 2018

About Felicity

Felicity Heaton
Felicity Heaton is a New York Times and USA Today international best-selling author writing passionate paranormal romance books. In her books, she creates detailed worlds, twisting plots, mind-blowing action, intense emotion and heart-stopping romances with leading men that vary from dark deadly vampires to sexy shape-shifters and wicked werewolves, to sinful angels and hot demons! If you’re a fan of paranormal romance authors Lara Adrian, J R Ward, Sherrilyn Kenyon, Gena Showalter and Christine Feehan then you will enjoy her books too.
If you love your angels a little dark and wicked, the best-selling Her Angel series is for you. If you like strong, powerful, and dark vampires then try the Vampires Realm series or any of her stand-alone vampire romance books. If you’re looking for vampire romances that are sinful, passionate and erotic then try the best-selling Vampire Erotic Theatre series. Or if you prefer huge detailed worlds filled with hot-blooded alpha males in every species, from elves to demons to dragons to shifters and angels, then take a look at the new Eternal Mates series.
If you want to know more about Felicity, or want to get in touch, you can find her at the following places:


Fangirl Moments and My Two Cents

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THE TRAITOR’S BRIDE by Alix Nichols Cover Reveal

Today we have a cover reveal for THE TRAITOR’S BRIDE by Alix Nichols! Check it out and you’re your copy today!


Author: Alix Nichols

Genre: Scifi Romance

Release Date: March 25

About The Traitor’s Bride:

On her untamed gift hinges the future of a planet—and her lover’s life… A month ago, ex-army Major Areg Sebi was thrown into prison. Now he’s on the scaffold, laying his head on the block. No public trial for the disgraced war hero. No cyborgs from the League of Realms to whisk him away. No help. No escape. A priestess chants a prayer for the major’s soul, even as a judge cries out, “Death to the traitor!” In the crowd below, laundry maid Etana Tidryn stares into Areg’s eyes. His lips were hot against hers last night. His hands roamed her body, worshipped her, pleasured her. She’s falling for him, hard and fast. She’s still hoping, even if he’s given up… Can Etana transcend everything she knows—transcend life itself—to save him? Can she rise to meet her destiny?




The massive lash hit Areg Sebi’s bared back anew. A gasp rippled through the crowd. Etana Tidryn had never seen a whip like that before. It had multiple tails with knots at each end. She looked closer, and gulped. The knots had claws. Every single knot was woven with small shards of glass and metal barbs to make it even nastier than it already was. Raising his arm high above his head, the flogger struck again, hard. The man on Etana’s left cheered. The two women on her right unwrapped their bread rolls, bit into them, and began to chew with a single-minded keenness. Their faces reflected a mixture of horror and fascination. “Still regret skipping breakfast?” the older of the two asked the younger one. “You joking?” The younger woman smiled. “This show is absolutely worth it!” Their gazes never left the scaffold while they talked. Etana turned away from them. To her relief, few people in the crowd seemed to share her neighbors’ enthusiasm. Many averted their heads, cringing with pity for Lord Sebi. A few brave souls even dared to hum and drone in defiance, risking jail time if the cops found them out. Clearly, they didn’t believe the charges leveled against their hero. Everything had happened so fast! Lord Sebi’s reputation had always been unmarred, as clean as the springs on Mount Crog. An heir to a long line of noble-bloods famous for their integrity, he was destined for a great future in Eia. Then Teteum invaded the realm. Lord Sebi joined the army and rose to major. His bravery on the battlefield earned him several decorations, including a Golden Double Serpent Wand—Eia’s highest honor. When his parents and younger sister died in a tragic accident, there was no end to letters of sympathy people sent him from all four corners of the realm. Everyone in Eia looked up to him, hung on his every word, admired, and even worshipped him. And then, a month ago, Police Chief Zorom Ultek arrested him. The Orogate Daily revealed “the truth” about Areg Sebi, which Etana didn’t believe for a second. Neither did her parents, or her brother and sister. Nor, apparently, many others here in Iltaqa. The flogger brandished his freak whip again. It laid a long, ragged line of red into Lord Sebi’s broad back. Etana’s cheeks flamed the instant she realized she was ogling the distinctly masculine shape of his back, despite the grim reason it had been exposed. Divine Aheya, the shame! But what with Pa being so straitlaced, and her brother Rhori so hopelessly shy, she’d never seen a grown man’s bare upper body before. And Areg Sebi’s was something to behold. Once more, the whip cracked against Lord Sebi’s back. The knots bit into his flayed skin, peeling strips of it off. Etana shuddered and gripped Rhori’s arm. But she didn’t avert her eyes. The town of Iltaqa hadn’t seen a public punishment in over a year, ever since the “space conmen” floggings. In the early months of the Teteum invasion, when things looked bad for Eia, four enterprising individuals set up a daring scam. Over several weeks, they sold hundreds of tickets to a bogus rescue transport. The transport was supposed to arrive from Norbal in the neighboring solar system and take the ticket-holding refugees off Hente. Norbal’s booming economy needed the extra workforce and talent, the conmen had explained. When no transport materialized, the swindled ticket holders—most of them proficients and noble-bloods—reported the scammers to the police. The authorities caught them, confiscated their booty for the war effort, and had them flogged in Town Hall Square. In retrospect, that punishment looked like a mother’s spanking next to Lord Sebi’s treatment. The whip came down again on the bloody ruin of his back, making him arch and grunt in pain. Letting go of Rhori’s arm, Etana scrabbled at her chest through the layers of her work apron, dress and underwear until her fingers found her Serpent Coil pendant. She began to stroke the ouroboros, her lips moving in a silent prayer. Suddenly, a buzz-like sound invaded her ears. She scanned her surroundings for its source before realizing it was coming from inside her. There were other sounds, too—sounds she hadn’t noticed until that moment. Sparrows chirped in the distance, squirrels scampered up and down the old oak trees across the square, bugs hummed in the lush flowerbeds, and a dog growled in a yard. Etana felt dizzy. The air around her, the very air she breathed, acquired a strangely sticky quality. Something invisible wheeled and eddied in the sky over her head. Divine Aheya only knew why, a childhood memory flashed in Etana’s mind. She saw herself, her parents and Rhori standing around Mayka’s high chair, watching stern-looking vestals examine her baby sister. But the memory was blurry and, for the life of her, Etana couldn’t recall what had gone down that day or why she was recollecting it now. Could it have something to do with the sultry, fog-like substance condensing above her? Whatever it was, it spun faster and faster, the whirlpool descending toward her, inexorable. Suddenly, she was trembling in its eye. When it burst into her chest like a gale-force wind, she gasped and fought for breath. Except, there was no room in her lungs for air. They were filled to the brim with the mysterious fog. Etana coughed, desperately trying to rid herself of it. No luck. Her knees wobbled, and just as she was about to faint, the substance left her body, and dissipated without a trace. A flurry of lash strokes descended on Lord Sebi’s back in quick succession, the whip leaving deep welts rimmed with blood. Etana swayed and leaned against Rhori, who wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “Only a couple dozen more,” he whispered in her ear. “It’ll be over soon.” A couple dozen more. Etana dug her nails into her palms when the next stroke landed, adding another crimson groove to Lord Sebi’s back. A man in gold-rimmed black robes stepped forward from the box on the side of the scaffold where notables sat during major events. He raised his hand, commanding everyone’s attention. Etana had never seen him before. She gave her brother a quizzical look. “It’s Lord Mahabmet, the high judge,” Rhori said, surveying the man. “I’ve seen his picture in the Gazette. He almost never leaves the capital.” Etana knitted her brows. “Haven’t you wondered why Lord Sebi is being flogged here and not in Orogate?” Rhori nodded. “I have, as have all my friends.” “Orogate is only an hour’s ride from Iltaqa,” Etana went on. “No more than twenty minutes in a motorized vehicle. Why didn’t they transfer Lord Sebi to Old Kingdom Prison? Why isn’t he being flogged in Republic Square?” On the scaffold, the high judge cleared his throat. “Silence!” “It simply doesn’t follow,” Etana said, looking up at Rhori. He pressed his index finger to his mouth. “Shush. Lord Mahabmet is about to say something.” Etana dutifully shut her mouth. She was a Tidryn, after all. A menial. Shutting up was what menials did every time a noble-born, a priestess, or a proficient opened their mouth. Etana never understood why the likes of her were considered so vastly inferior to everyone else. It was said that menials had no Ra spark left in them. Not a drop of the ancient Original Race of Xereill. Their blood was thin, all imported, all human. Except, where was the proof of that? Not a single book in the Temple Library supported that belief. Menials, just like everyone else on Hente, were cut from the same Ra-human cloth. True, they had no Ra abilities, or “gifts.” Then again, no one on the entire planet did. But it was menials who’d been pushed to the bottom and told they belonged there. It bothered her. What bothered her even more was how pliantly other menials—including her family—accepted their fate. Mother and Father believed that the rigid makeup of Hente’s society was what kept things together, what had saved their civilization from falling apart in the wake of the Cataclysm. Rhori believed that, too. Everyone she knew did… Except for Lord Sebi. “Townsfolk of Iltaqa!” the high judge bellowed. “I’ve interrupted Areg Sebi’s punishment because I’ve just received a transmission from Governor Boggond!” He held up a small device in his hand that Etana had never seen before. Her breath hitched. Could it be…? Could it be that the governor’s transmission exonerated Lord Sebi of the terrible accusations that sleazy Chief Ultek had mounted against him? She tightened her grip on her ouroboros pendant, her body tensing as if her own fate hung in the balance. “Governor Boggond, who couldn’t be present due to matters of state,” Judge Mahabmet said, “is asking me to recap Areg Sebi’s charges so that all of you present understand their gravity.” Etana’s heart sank. The high judge pointed at Lord Sebi. “The man in front of you is not who you thought he was. He is no hero. He’s a traitor. He had colluded with Teteum at the end of the war in a conspiracy to discredit Eia’s legitimate government and Lord Boggond himself.” “Prove it!” someone shouted from the middle of the crowd. “Did he confess?” a second voice joined in. Chief Ultek jumped up from his seat in the box and shouted to his men, “Find those whoresons! Bring them to me!” “There’s no need, Chief Ultek,” Judge Mahabmet said, gesturing to the cops to stay put. “Those are legitimate questions.” The crowd grew quiet. The high judge forced a smile. “I don’t blame those young men. They only voiced what many in Eia are thinking.” The silence grew laden. Judge Mahabmet firmed his jaw. “I am not going to lie to you. We don’t have a confession.” An “ah” tore through the crowd. “But we don’t need one.” Judge Mahabmet pointed to Ultek. “Chief Ultek’s investigation has uncovered evidence which proves Areg Sebi’s guilt beyond doubt. We will present it to the citizens of Eia shortly, as soon as it is properly cataloged and recorded.” Rhori gave Etana a disconcerted look as if he didn’t know what to think after that revelation. She crossed her arms. No, honestly. Her deferential brother was prepared to believe empty words just because a high-ranking lord had uttered them. Um… all right, a lord who happened to be a respected judge. And not just any judge, but the high judge of the Realm himself, a paragon of fairness and wisdom. But then why did she, a laundry maid, doubt his words? Oh, she knew why. Because of the other words spoken by Lord Sebi a few weeks ago in her employer’s house. Those words had given her wings. “Remember Lord Sebi’s talk at the Gokk House?” she whispered to Rhori. He nodded. “The wonders he described, the possibilities…” “The amazing level-two tech,” Rhori said, his expression dreamy. “Remember how harshly he spoke of the caretaker governor?” Rhori knitted his brows. “What are you saying? You can’t possibly—” “Resume the flogging!” Judge Mahabmet cried without taking his eyes off the crowd. The flogger struck with renewed ferocity. Once, twice, three times… Red stripes erupted on either side of Areg Sebi’s spine, blood oozing down their length. His face became a grimace of pain as he groaned, but kept his jaws pressed together. On the next stroke, his body surged and then fell limp, his head lolling. Etana turned to her brother. “This is so wrong! I can’t just stand here and watch.” “What can we do, Etti?” Rhori whispered softly. “What can anyone do to help the poor soul?” She surveyed the scaffold. Dozens of heavily armed cops stood all around it. Rhori was right. There was nothing anyone—even the strongest and most agile of men—could do to help Areg Sebi. Nothing at all. Then why that feeling that she should do something? That she must do something? Because she could. She screwed up her eyes. It was ridiculous. Fancying herself a rich-blood endowed with a gift she could harness to rescue Lord Sebi was a folly. For starters, no gift she could conceive of would overpower the town’s entire police force. Besides, she had no gift. No one on Hente had them anymore. After the Cataclysm, the air of the planet changed, and the radiation emanating from it suppressed all the existing gifts in the survivors. No rich-bloods were ever recorded since then, not even among noble-borns, with ostensibly more Ra blood than the others. The loss of gifts was how Divine Aheya had punished Hente for its arrogance. Everyone knew that. As did Etana. And that whirlwind she’d felt earlier? It had been just a panic attack. Or, worse—a figment of her imagination, a childish fantasy that she was special. Like the Gokks’ youngest, Benty, who would cover his eyes with his plump little hands and declare he was invisible. The grown-ups and his older siblings would humor him. “Where is Benty?” they’d ask. “He’s gone. I can’t see him. Where did he disappear to?” The boy would squeal and clap his hands in delight before opening his eyes. “Bam! I’m back!” That kind of delusion of power could be forgiven in a young child, even encouraged to an extent. But it was unpardonable in someone like her. The flogger’s final blow shook Lord Sebi’s dangling body without drawing so much as a twitch from it. He was unconscious. The high judge stepped forward once again. “We are done for today. Areg Sebi will receive fifty more lashes here in Town Hall Square in exactly one week, next Firstday, the twenty-sixth of Mid-Summer, Xer-year 701 of the New Ra-human Era.” The crowd rumbled, appalled. “The man needs to recover!” someone shouted. “You can’t do that!” Etana heard herself yell. Several heads turned toward her, and Rhori gave her a round-eyed look. “Oh, but we can and, given the gravity of his crime, we certainly will,” Judge Mahabmet said. “Unless he confesses between now and next Firstday.” He wouldn’t. Etana was sure of it. “But, confession or no,” the judge added, raising his voice, “my colleagues and I will return with a verdict on Areg Sebi by then. It will be announced here, next Firstday.” “What do you think it would be?” Etana whispered to Rhori. “For high treason?” He gave her an apologetic look as if to say, you know what. “Death,” she said on an exhale. “They never move this fast.” Rhori knitted his brows. “Even court-martials during the war didn’t move this fast.” Etana hardly heard him. Her mind was on fire, scrambling for options, for something, for anything she could do for Areg Sebi. Perhaps… She clenched her jaws, determined. Tonight, as soon as she finished work at the Gokk House, she’d go to the temple. She’d beg the vestals to let her spend the night, and every night between now and the twenty-sixth, in their library. She’d read every code and custom book, every law, every compilation of decrees and edicts they had in there. Since rescuing Lord Sebi through an imaginary gift was a nonstarter, perhaps there was a doable way to ease his suffering. Maybe she’d find a law which forbade convicting a citizen of Eia, no matter his crime, without a proper trial and without a chance to defend himself. Failing that, she might uncover a ruling which prohibited giving anyone—even a convicted traitor—more lashes than the Ra-human body could endure. Or maybe something else, completely unexpected. If there was anything at all that could help Lord Areg Sebi, even in a tiny way, she’d find it. She had to.  

About Alix Nichols:

Alix Nichols is an unapologetic caffeine addict and a longtime fan of Mr. Darcy, especially in his Colin Firth incarnation. She is a USA Today bestselling (April and June 2017) and Kindle Scout winning (December 2015) author of sexy romance novels that readers describe as yummylicious. According to Romantic Times, her books “will keep you hanging off the edge of your seat”. Kirkus Reviews claims they “deliver pure pleasure”. At the age of six, Alix released her first romance. It featured highly creative spelling on a dozen pages stitched together and bound in velvet paper. Decades later, she still writes. Her spelling has improved (somewhat), and her books have topped the Amazon charts around the world. She lives in France with her family and their almost-human dog.

Connect with Alix:

Amazon Page | Website | Facebook | Pinterest | BookBub Author Follow | Goodreads | Twitter | Newsletter Signup (and a free bundle!)



Fangirl Moments and My Two Cents

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Avalanche by Cambria Hebert Cover Reveal

Cambria Hebert
(BearPaw Resort, #1)
Publication date: March 26th 2018
Genres: Adult, Romance, Suspense, Thriller

Don’t get caught in the surge.
Through a bullet hole in a wall, I watch a man bleed to death.
Those responsible think their crime died with the victim, until I identify them.
What’s a girl to do when she’s being hunted by murderers
witness protection can’t even stop?
My only refuge is a place I vowed to never go again.
When it’s do or die, an eight-year-old heartache suddenly seems trivial.
Besides, he won’t be there anyway.
But he is.
Turns out my old pain feels brand new the second his eyes meet mine.
I can’t leave. I can’t stay.
This snowy town that’s supposed to be my shelter
suddenly exposes me more than before.
With no one else to lean on, Liam becomes my lifeline.
Now we’re both running for our lives,
trying not to get swept away.


I got up and went to the bed, yanking down the blankets in one move.
“What are you doing?” She was cautious.
“In you go.” I pointed.
“I’ll walk you out.” She glanced between me and the door.
I laughed. “Subtle. I’m not leaving.”
“Well, you aren’t sleeping with me!” She planted her fisted hands on her hips.
I tried real hard not to smile. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
A little bit of hurt flashed in her eyes, and I was a bastard because I was glad for it. I wanted her to want me—even just a fraction of the way I wanted her.
I cleared my throat and added, “At least not tonight.”
Her eyes whipped up to mine.
This time I smiled, letting some of the desire and possessiveness I felt shine through.
She ran for the bed and jumped in, pulling the covers nearly over her head. “You can see yourself out!”
I threw my head back and laughed.
Then I returned to my chair.
Making a noise, Bellamy sat up, pushing down some of the covers to glare. “What are you doing?”
“Staying ‘til you fall asleep.”
Her mouth opened. Closed. Opened again. “But why?”
“Because you want me to.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“You didn’t disagree.”
She fell back on the bed with a groan.
I grinned and settled my hands over my middle. “Go to sleep, Bells. I’ll watch over you.”

Author Bio:
Cambria Hebert is an award winning, bestselling novelist of more than twenty books. She went to college for a bachelor’s degree, couldn’t pick a major, and ended up with a degree in cosmetology. So rest assured her characters will always have good hair.
Besides writing, Cambria loves a caramel latte, staying up late, sleeping in, and watching movies. She considers math human torture and has an irrational fear of chickens (yes, chickens). You can often find her running on the treadmill (she’d rather be eating a donut), painting her toenails (because she bites her fingernails), or walking her chorkie (the real boss of the house).
Cambria has written within the young adult and new adult genres, penning many paranormal and contemporary titles. Her favorite genre to read and write is romantic suspense. A few of her most recognized titles are: The Hashtag Series, Text, Torch, and Tattoo.
Cambria Hebert owns and operates Cambria Hebert Books, LLC.



Fangirl Moments and My Two Cents

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TRAILS OF SIN by Pam Godwin Cover Reveal

Cover Reveal: A NEW series!

TRAILS OF SIN is a cowboy romance series done Pam Godwin’s way. Dark – Kinky – Lawless – Modern – Anti-heroes
Each book spotlights a different couple. No cliffhangers. Must be read in order.


Coming May 1, 2018 Preorder
I try to forget her. It’s impossible.
Growing up together, Conor and I shared all our firsts. First love, first kiss, first… Not all our firsts.
We were sixteen the night she was violently assaulted while I helplessly watched. I’ll never forget the sounds of her suffering. Or my inconsolable agony when she left Oklahoma.
Years later, she returns to honor our teenage pact. Except the boy she loved is gone, replaced by a ruthless cattle rancher knotted with secrets. She doesn’t know my dark cravings or the trails of sin that lead to her.
I don’t deserve her, but one truth remains. She’s mine.


Coming July 10, 2018 Preorder 

BOOTED, Book 3

Coming Sept 18, 2018 Preorder 

Pam Godwin

Pam Godwin Books GrayScale
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author, Pam Godwin, lives in the Midwest with her husband, their two children, and a foulmouthed parrot. When she ran away, she traveled fourteen countries across five continents, attended three universities, and married the vocalist of her favorite rock band.
Java, tobacco, and dark romance novels are her favorite indulgences, and might be considered more unhealthy than her aversion to sleeping, eating meat, and dolls with blinking eyes.

Other Books by Pam Godwin


Fangirl Moments and My Two Cents

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GETTING SCHOOLED by Emma Chase Cover Reveal

We are so thrilled to reveal the cover for GETTING SCHOOLED by Emma Chase, a brand new standalone releasing on audible February 27th and everywhere else June 26th!


Head of the class… 
Garrett Daniels has this whole life thing figured out. The cocky, charismatic former high school star quarterback is an idolized football coach and “cool” teacher in the hometown where he’s not just a golden boy — he’s platinum. He has good friends, a great house on the lake, and the best damn sidekick a man could ask for: Snoopy, the albino beagle. Then…Callie Carpenter comes home. And knocks him right on his tight end zone. 

Back to school… 
Callie has a pretty sweet life herself…on the other side of the country. But circumstances — that she’d prefer to never speak of again — have brought her back home, helping out her parents and substitute teaching at her old high school. Now she’s facing bickering, raging hormones, constant gossip, awkward weirdness, and drama galore…and that’s just the teachers. 

Just like old times… 
When Garrett offers to show his former high school sweetheart the secrets of his winning teacher ways, Callie jumps at the chance – and then has to stop herself from jumping him. Good friends are all they can ever be. Or…these teachers just might end up getting schooled — hard — by love

Includes a special bonus interview with the author! ©2018 Emma Chase (P)2018 Audible Originals, LLC. 

Preorder Now

Audible ( Exclusive Release Day Feb 27)

AMAZON | iBooks | B&N | Kobo


Emma Chase is the New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of the hot and hilarious Tangled series and The Legal Briefs series. Emma lives in New Jersey with her husband, two children and two naughty (but really cute) dogs. She has a long-standing love/hate relationship with caffeine.

Fangirl Moments and My Two Cents

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BRING ME THIER HEARTS by Sara Wolf Cover Reveal

Bring Me Their Hearts by Sara Wolf Cover Reveal
In a new series Publishers Weekly has listed as “one of the most anticipated YA’s of 2018”, we’re excited to share the cover for Bring Me Their Hearts! NYT bestselling author Sara Wolf delivers a fast-paced, gritty fantasy sure to thrill fans of Holly Black, Sabba Tahir, and Sarah J. Maas.
About the book:
Zera is a Heartless—the immortal, unaging soldier of a witch. Bound to the witch Nightsinger ever since she saved her from the bandits who murdered her family, Zera longs for freedom from the woods they hide in. With her heart in a jar under Nightsinger’s control, she serves the witch unquestioningly.

Until Nightsinger asks Zera for a prince’s heart in exchange for her own, with one addendum: if she’s discovered infiltrating the court, Nightsinger will destroy Zera’s heart rather than see her tortured by the witch-hating nobles.

Crown Prince Lucien d’Malvane hates the royal court as much as it loves him—every tutor too afraid to correct him and every girl jockeying for a place at his darkly handsome side. No one can challenge him—until the arrival of Lady Zera. She’s inelegant, smart-mouthed, carefree, and out for his blood. The prince’s honor has him quickly aiming for her throat.

So begins a game of cat and mouse between a girl with nothing to lose and a boy who has it all.

Winner takes the loser’s heart.


Release Date: June 5th, 2018
About Sara Wolf:
Sara Wolf is a twenty-something author who adores baking, screaming at her cats, and screaming at herself while she types hilarious things. When she was a kid, she was too busy eating dirt to write her first terrible book. Twenty years later, she picked up a keyboard and started mashing her fists on it and created the monster known as the Lovely Vicious series. She lives in San Diego with two cats, a crippling-yet-refreshing sense of self-doubt, and not enough fruit tarts ever.

Fangirl Moments and My Two Cents

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A sexy standalone novel from New York Times and international bestselling author Elle Kennedy!
A good bad boy is hard to find…
Seth Masterson has been lusting over Miranda Breslin since the moment he saw her on a Vegas stage. Now that he’s been asked to watch out for her as she opens a dance studio in San Diego, he’s all over it, figuring it’s his chance to get her in his bed. Except the stubborn single mom seems determined to deny their sizzling sexual chemistry. In typical SEAL fashion, Seth makes it his personal mission to prove her wrong.
Miranda got over her attraction to bad boys about the time one of them knocked her up at the age of eighteen. Seth’s mocking gray eyes and military-buff bod, though, are pure and utter temptation. And when a flooded apartment forces her and her twins to move in with him, she can no longer resist the urge to set off some serious fireworks between the sheets.
But any involvement with Seth will be strictly physical—and temporary. So when Seth decides permanent is what he wants, Miranda must steel her defenses before she does something incredibly foolish…like fall in love.
Warning: This book contains a bad boy SEAL who knows what he wants and will go to any lengths to get it. Expect graphic language, hot sex, seduction, hot sex, dirty talk, hot sex, a little man-on-man action. Oh, and hot sex.

Fangirl Moments and My Two Cents

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