Showing posts with label Bewitching Book Tours. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Bewitching Book Tours. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 27, 2024

The Color of Sound by James Garcia Jr Virtual Book Tour




The Color of Sound
James Garcia Jr

Genre: Horror
Publisher: James Garcia Jr
Date of Publication: September 6, 2024
ISBN: 9798338051665
ASIN: BODGDQCHJ7
Number of pages: 337
Word Count: 86,860
Cover Artist: Maria Zannini

Tagline: This week, they all want her dead.

Book Description: 

The voice that Jewel Foster hears in her head is not her own. It tells her terrible things and has since she can remember. Often it demands she kill herself. It’s a miracle she’s made it to sixteen. One extraordinary night changes everything.

There are scales over the eyes of mortals to prevent them from seeing the immortal. Jewel loses them and can now see the angels and demons that surround and interfere. Neither side is pleased that she can see them.

She will meet her guardian angel who will explain everything to her. But what can a mere mortal hope to do with such a gift?

Now, both sides in a spiritual war press against her; a war that has raged since the Devil was cast out of Heaven.

Last week, one wanted her dead. This week, they all do.

Amazon     Kobo

Excerpt:

Jewel is humming an 80’s hair metal song to herself as she crosses the last street of the day and steps onto the sidewalk on her block. It’s a song that never gets old; however, where she has heard it recently enough to cause it to ear worm into her consciousness, she does not know. It has been a pleasant walk home. She notices no demons on her way, and if present, none challenge her.

She notices her stalker walking toward her and makes no effort to escape.

Whatever, she thinks. He’s not ruining my day.

When he reaches her, he spins and then walks beside her.

“You sound pretty full of yourself right now,” he says evenly. She detects a hint of displeasure in his voice. “I would not have pegged you for a Whitesnake fan.”

She merely shrugs.

“What’s the problem?” she asks. “It’s been a good day. Don’t try to ruin it.”

“Yes, I will be sad to do so. It has been a long time since you have been this giddy.”

“Giddy?” she repeats. “I have never been giddy.”

He makes a sound that she doesn’t immediately discern. It is something between a laugh and a grunt. “I will grant you that it is rare, but it has happened.”
Jewel lets it go.

They are halfway down the block now and neither speak for quite a while.

“You must realize that this is not a game,” he says, finally. It isn’t a question.
Jewel sighs. “I should have snuck down the alley,” she says.

“You already tried that tactic.”

“So, what do you want from me?”

“You have nothing that I need,” he replies.

“Okay, what am I supposed to do?”

“For one, you can stop poking them.”

“Poking who?”

“You know who, Julie,” he answers. “Leave them be.”

Jewel stops walking. They are near the foot of her driveway now. She turns and faces him. “How can I do that?” she asks. “They’re evil. They put thoughts in your head that aren’t yours. They lie, cheat and steal. Mine told me the vilest things. All this time I thought it was me…”

“I know that.”

She stops. “See! That just pisses me off! They put horrible things into your head, and you know all about it. Who are you?”

“You already know…”

“Don’t tell me that!” she snaps. “Just don’t! I want you to spell it out for me.”

He stands and simply looks at her.

“Sonofabitch!” she shouts. “So, you’re a guardian angel or something?”

He nods.

“Can’t you even say it?” she asks and throws up her hands

“Yes, I can. I am your guardian angel. Does that help?”

“No, it doesn’t help,” she replies, still smoldering. “That only begs further questions.”

“Fine,” he says. “Ask away.”

She glances about the neighborhood as she contemplates what to ask.

“So, no one can see you?” she asks finally. It is the first thought that occurs to her in the heat of the moment. “Anyone looking this way right now sees a crazy girl alone, throwing a fit on the sidewalk?”

“Only when I allow it. When they do, they see only a man.”

“Then do it now,” she says. “I’m tired of feeling crazy. I’ve lived a lifetime of that.”

“As you wish.”

“Do you have a name? Of course you do. What is it?”

“I am afraid I cannot tell you that.”

Jewel appears startled, as if slapped. “Excuse me?”

“I have a name, yes. But it is nothing you could pronounce.”

“Try me,” she says, but he quickly holds up his hands as if to calm her.

“Please do not misunderstand. When we are named… All of us, humans, angelic beings, otherwise, it is by others who are masters or parents. There is ownership implied. Mine has given me a name because he is my master.”

“God, huh?” Jewel says. “So, you’re a religious nut.”

“The very first kind,” he answers evenly.

She shakes her head. “So, what do I call you?”

“I have hope that whenever you call me it will be friend.”

“Isn’t that a song?”

“Yes, Kenny Loggins and Melissa Manchester wrote it.”

“It’s a very old song.”

“I promise you I am far older.”

“How come you know so much about music?”

“I spend quite a lot of time waiting. I amuse myself with music.”

“Who’s your favorite?”

“Would you believe the Mormon Tabernacle Choir?”

She frowns.

“They are quite good, you know.”

“Try again?”

“The Gregorian Monks.”

“Who? Seriously? Chanting? I don’t believe you.”

“I appreciate much, but once you have heard music in heaven there is really nothing else. Perhaps Zeppelin.”

“Get out of here,” she says, exasperated, and heads for her house.

He makes no move to follow.

When she reaches the ninety-degree angle at the walkway that leads to her door, she stops and looks back. “Are you seriously just going to stay out here forever?”

His face grows serious. “That is up to you.”

“How so?”

“You have seen demons with your own eyes, and now you know you have a guardian angel, and have had one since birth.”

“Do I know that?” she asks. “Sure, I have you to vouch for that, but all I have is what you’ve told me. And you really haven’t told me much.”

“In any event,” he continues. “What does that tell you?”

“About what, mysterious stranger?” she asks. “What does it tell me? It doesn’t tell me anything.”

“When you are ready, I will be here.”

“Ready for what?”

“I will be here,” he repeats. “But, please, leave them be.”

“Why should I?” she asks and holds out her hands.

He pauses, as if measuring his words. “Because they will soon poke back.”


About the Author:   

James Garcia Jr was born in Hanford, California. He moved up the road to Kingsburg with his family as a child. After graduating KHS, he attended Reedley College where he met his wife. The family still makes its home in Kingsburg which is typically the setting of his fiction.

He was the 1994 winner of the Writers International Network/Writers Inter-Age Network writing contest in the horror category. He is the author of the edgy Dance on Fire vampire series, and the stand-alone novels, Seeing Ghosts and Photographs.

During the day, he is the safety manager at Sun Maid Growers of California.









Monday, November 18, 2024

The Century Portal Virtual Book Tour


The Century Portal
The Sacred Stones Portal Series 
Book One
Barbara Hartzler

Genre: Urban Fantasy Portal
Date of Publication: May 14, 2024
ISBN: 979-8325107788
ASIN: ‎ B0D1WBMTLR
Number of pages: 208
Word Count: 58,600
Cover Artist:  FantasyBookDesigns.com

Tagline: Downton Abbey meets Shadowhunters as Bella portals to the 1920s to rescue the Seer from a time-traveling villain bent on changing the course of history.

Book Description:

I thought my days of magical battles were behind me—until a portal opened in my dorm room.

I’m Bella, and I’ve done my fair share of saving the world. But when two strangers from 1924 show up begging for my help, it’s clear that my quiet college life is about to be anything but ordinary. Their mission? To stop a dangerous villain from unraveling the future by tampering with the Seer’s family line.

Suddenly, I’m thrust into the magical world of time portals, glitzy debutante balls, and the underground speakeasies of the Roaring Twenties. And that’s not even the worst of it. There’s a new enemy in play—one who can manipulate time itself and has their sights set on Lucinda, the future Seer.

In 1924, Lucinda thought her biggest problem was planning her future. She couldn’t be more wrong.

Eighteen is supposed to be an exciting time for Lucinda—freedom, ambition, maybe even a little romance. But as strange powers start manifesting and a mysterious suitor takes an interest in her, life gets complicated. Add to that a time-traveling villain who’s decided she’s the key to his plans, and her once-bright future starts to look pretty dangerous.

Now, Lucinda and I are fighting across centuries to stop history from being rewritten. But with enemies closing in from every side, the battle for the Seer has only just begun...

Century Portal is the spellbinding first book in a new YA historical time-travel fantasy by bestselling author Barbara Hartzler. Downton Abbey meets Back to the Future with a good dose of Shadowhunters-like magic in this thrilling blend of coming of age romance, mystery, and urban fantasy adventure.


Excerpt 1, Chapter 1:

Out of nowhere, a gust of wind blew through the open window. Standing up, I rushed to close it.

Then stopped in my tracks.

The window wasn’t open.

My heart plummeted into the depths of my stomach as the bottom dropped out.

What was going on here? Gusts of wind rushed straight at us like a storm blowing through our room—where both the windows and doors were closed.

My knees started wobbling, and I braced myself on the edge of my desk.

With the wind came a deafening roar that sounded like giant hunks of rock ripping in half.

Turning around, I glanced at Patrick. “What the bloody—?”

“I-I, uh, don’t know. But look.” His dark eyes went wide, his jaw going slack as he pointed behind me.

When I turned around, my jaw fell open. I blinked and blinked, but the crazy sight remained.

A strange pool of light swirled around in the center of my room. It started as a tiny blue marble, then grew larger every second until the translucent sapphire circle filled the room.

Two shadowy figures appeared in the middle of the swirling light, small at first but growing larger as they walked toward the center of the liquidy blue circle.

A few seconds later, a man and a woman emerged from the sapphire portal. Both were dressed in old-fashioned clothes. The man had on a three-piece suit and a fedora, while the woman wore a silky, drop-waisted dress that made me think of the 1920s.

The man clutched a necklace at his collarbone that glowed an intense royal blue.
Maybe the Three Societies weren’t done with us yet.

Patrick gasped, then rose to his feet and put his arm around me. “It’s a Watcher, from the past.

Coming through some kind of wormhole,” he whispered in my ear.

I glanced at him, about to ask how he could possibly know that, while simultaneously calling up my internal lightning power.

As I said before—just in case.

But then one of the intruders spoke.

“Actually …” the man trailed off, releasing his grip on the necklace.

Within seconds, the portal collapsed in on itself, the wind died down, and everything returned to normal again. Well, except for the piles of papers blown around the room.

“We’re not Watchers. We’re both Guardians, like you.” The man enunciated in a crisp tone of voice that reminded me of my British homeland, but the accent was still American.

“Wh-who are you?” I stammered, even as Patrick moved in front of me.

Who knew what would happen if we told these two that the Guardians didn’t exist anymore.

“Ah, let me allow myself to make the proper introductions.” The man took off his fedora and smoothed his brown hair peppered with gray. “We are Ward and Eleanor Sinclair,” he gestured to his wife, who curtsied slightly.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance,” Eleanor said, dipping her head at us and fanning out her blue dress skirt in a half-curtsy.

I blinked at the gesture, unsure how to respond.

“I’m Patrick Rodriguez, and this is my girlfriend, Bella, Isabelle Beatrix.” Patrick held out his hand.

Ward and Eleanor took turns shaking his hand.

Then they all looked at me. I was frozen still as a statue. A blinking statue.

“I think she’s in shock.” Patrick wrapped one arm around my shoulder, nudging me forward.

“Maybe you can tell us what the heck just happened.”

“Certainly. Ward?” Eleanor arched one eyebrow and nodded at her husband.

“Ah, yes.” Ward stood up a little straighter. “This may be hard to digest. You might want to sit down.”

Grabbing Patrick’s hand, we both sat down on my bed.

The Sinclairs perched on the edge of the bed opposite us, their spines straight as an arrow.

I just stared at the couple, who looked like they’d stepped right out of Downton Abbey or The Great Gatsby. Ward wore a gray suit complete with a vest that matched the Fedora in his lap.

Eleanor wore a light blue drop-waist dress with long sleeves and a skirt down to her ankles. Her sandy brown hair was pinned into an intricate updo with some face-framing waves.

None of which helped my concept of reality. How were these people, who looked like they were straight out of the 1920s, sitting in my dorm room? And what was that giant portal they’d somehow made in the middle of the room?

I glanced at Patrick, arching my eyebrows at him—silently willing him to explain this whole thing to me.

But he just shook his head, as if he had no clue either. Small comfort.

“Where to begin?” Ward tapped absently on his chin.

Jerking my head back to the newcomers, I rubbed my eyes and pinched myself.

“Ouch,” I muttered under my breath. Guess this wasn’t a dream.

“Why don’t you tell us how you made a portal of some kind in our dorm room? With a Watcher’s Sapphire?” Patrick’s voice was louder than normal, as if volume would help in the communication process. Then he looked at me. “I didn’t know they could do that. Did you?”

“Huh-uh.” I shook my head, my curls swishing around my face.

“We didn’t either. Until someone from your time came crashing into our lives a week ago.”

Eleanor pursed her lips and folded her hands together in her lap.



About the Author:

Barbara Hartzler is an Urban Fantasy Academy author writing about Seers, Chosen Ones, sacred stones, and secret societies ... oh my! 

Her stories are full of snarky heroines, supernatural shenanigans, dreamy guys, and normal teens taking on larger-than-life quests to save the world.

As a former barista and graphic designer, she loves all things sparkly and purple and is always jonesing for a good cup of joe. 

Newsletter Sign Up:  https://bit.ly/3YyORcG










Tuesday, November 12, 2024

Release Day Blitz: The Last Portal by Barbara Hartzler




The Last Portal
The Sacred Stones Portal Series 
Book Three
Barbara Hartzler

Genre: Urban Fantasy Portal
Date of Publication: November 12, 2024 
ASIN: ‎ B0DKGCJHYF
Word Count: 50,000
Cover Artist:  FantasyBookDesigns.com

Tagline:  If you love Downton Abbey, Shadowhunters, and world-changing stakes, get ready for an action-packed finale that will keep you on the edge of your seat until the final page.

Book Description:

The final battle is here. If we fail, we could rewrite history—forever.

I’m Lucinda, the Seer. When every member of my family and the entire Chosen One bloodline shares the same vision, I know we’re doomed. Especially when the villain’s henchmen show up on my doorstep hours later, there’s no denying the truth.

We’re out of time.

It’s up to me and Bella to take charge and end the time travel villainry once and for all.

Too bad Ricky Montrose isn’t going down without a fight. He’s unlocked an alternate reality where everything I’ve fought to protect—my powers, my friends, and the world itself—is at his mercy.

Now, it’s a race against time, and we’ve got two choices:

1. Travel to the past to stop the portal book from ever being created
2. Defeat Montrose before he can put his twisted plan into motion.
It’s all or nothing. So we split up into two teams to defeat the Montrose army. My friends and I have faced impossible odds before. But this time, we could wipe out the Three Societies, erase our past, and destroy the future my family battled to protect.

But with alternate realities colliding and the line between allies and enemies blurring, I’m questioning everything—especially whether I have the strength to save the world.

Can I master my powers, protect my friends and family, and close the last portal before everything we know disappears forever?

I guess we’re about to find out...

The Last Portal is the thrilling conclusion to the historical fantasy time travel series by bestselling author Barbara Hartzler. If you love Downton Abbey, Shadowhunters, and world-changing stakes, get ready for an action-packed finale that will keep you on the edge of your seat until the final page.

Excerpt 1, Chapter 1, Book 3:

Lucinda, 1926

“We did it,” I whispered to Everett, leaning into his side. Standing at the front door, we waved goodbye to Robert and Lillian Cooper as they strolled arm-in-arm down the path to their car.

My new husband closed the door with a smile that lit up his whole face.

“Our first successful dinner party as a married couple.” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to my temple. “The start of many more firsts to come, I hope.”

It was November of 1926, and Everett and I had been married for a little over four months. In that time, we had set up our own home with the wedding money from our parents. Thanks to Everett’s real estate knowledge and financial acumen, we’d purchased a two-story brownstone in the up-and-coming but immensely more affordable Queens borough.

At the back of our quaint property was a small cottage that had once been a carriage house. It was one of the main reasons we bought this property. Now my darling husband could rest easy, knowing his sister and nephew would be taken care of.

We set up the cottage for Nora and her son Grant to live, thus ending her constant worries over rent and how to put food on the table.

Everett worked as a financial adviser at the local bank between classes while he finished his degree. But he had plans to setup his own accounting firm once he graduated, despite his father’s wishes to work for the family business.

I was still working on my degree as well. After the successful protest last year, I was allowed to run for office in my junior year. Two months ago, I was the first female in history to be elected as Vice President of the NYU Law School.

And yet, at the back of my mind, I couldn’t help but wonder—could I really balance everything before Ricky Montrose enacted his own plans?

As the Seer, I needed to have children to continue the family bloodline. Despite our newly-wedded bliss, I was still nowhere near ready for that next step.

But the clock was ticking. Ricky Montrose and Rosie Stanton had opted for a longer engagement, probably because construction on Montrose Paranormal Academy was set to be completed by the end of the year.

Even so, Rosie and Ricky were scheduled to wed in the spring of 1927.

For the time being, he’d been focused on building his namesake school. But how long would that last?

I felt like there was a ticking time bomb always lurking somewhere over my shoulder.
When would my time expire? When would Ricky come after me to end the Seer’s bloodline forever?

“You okay, Lucinda?” Everett asked, rubbing my shoulders.

I smiled up at him. “Yes. Just thinking about Ricky, unfortunately.”

He wrapped his arms around me. “Don’t worry, I won’t let him hurt you.”

I sank into the warmth of his embrace. In my heart, I believed my new husband would always do his best to protect me.

But could anyone stand up to Ricky Montrose and win? He had the power of time travel at his fingertips, and big plans to manipulate the Chosen One powers into his own hands and take over the world.

And I for one hated being a helpless puppet, waiting for him to pull the strings and set another horrible chain of events into motion.

But what else could we do?

“Let’s go to bed, Snickerdoodle.” Everett drew back, moving his hand to weave his fingers between mine as he tugged me up the stairs.

“You scoundrel.” I smacked his arm. “That was my first attempt at baking anything on my own.”

For tonight’s dinner, I decided to try my hand at making cookies. The cinnamon-sugar-coated snickerdoodles seemed like an easy choice. But they had proved more than challenging.
The edges were a little extra crispy, but our guests had eaten them anyway. Robert had nibbled out the middles and Lillian had dunked hers in her coffee.

“You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?” I asked as we reached the second-floor landing.

“No, probably not, Snickerdoodle.” He tweaked my nose as he opened the bedroom door.

I pretended to ignore him as I dressed in my nightclothes and slid beneath the quilt.

“Goodnight, Snickerdoodle,” he said, stifling a laugh.

“Goodnight, Scoundrel,” I shot back, wrinkling my nose as I burrowed further under the covers.

Everett turned out the light, and we snuggled until he fell asleep.

As I closed my eyes and drifted off to sleep, the blackness behind my eyelids didn’t stay black for long.

This wasn’t right. This couldn’t be right. I could hear myself saying in some far-off corner of dreamland.

I tossed and turned as a strange scene screamed into focus like a talking horror picture—in full, living color.

Instead of being under construction, the picturesque campus of Montrose Paranormal Academy was now completed. The entire design was built out in a giant rectangle extending from the Guardian church, now situated at the backside of the grounds.

Half a dozen impressive brick buildings with formal white columns ringed the edges of a lush green lawn, complete with cobblestone paths artfully zigzagging across the landscape.

Every wrought-iron lamppost along each path now fluttered with bright green banners that read One School. One Society.

Green? That wasn’t one of the colors of the Three Societies. What was going on here?

My heart caught in my throat as the strange dream-scene unfolded around me.

This was it. This was Ricky’s endgame, right? He had to be behind this so-called “One Society.”


About the Author:

Barbara Hartzler is an Urban Fantasy Academy author writing about Seers, Chosen Ones, sacred stones, and secret societies ... oh my! 

Her stories are full of snarky heroines, supernatural shenanigans, dreamy guys, and normal teens taking on larger-than-life quests to save the world.

As a former barista and graphic designer, she loves all things sparkly and purple and is always jonesing for a good cup of joe. 

Newsletter Sign Up:  https://bit.ly/3YyORcG











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Monday, November 11, 2024

The Hunter’s Moon by Lee K. Rogers Virtual Book Tour




The Hunter’s Moon
Unleashed
Book One
Lee K. Rogers

Genre: Urban Fantasy Romance
Publisher: Open Door Publications
Date of Publication: Oct. 15, 2024
ISBN:979-8-9871697-3-5
ASIN: B0DHLN7QW1
Number of pages:152
Word Count: 50,100
Cover Artist: Eric Labacz

Tagline: Two passionate men but she can only choose one. Will Ana surrender to the beast or the hunter?

Book Description:

Two men, one moonlit choice—will she surrender to the beast or the hunter?

Ana once found peace in her late-night walks through Rivelou, a sleepy Kentucky town where on the surface, nothing much happens. But beneath the quiet streets and old Southern charm, a mystery is lurking. 

When Ana is attacked by a vicious beast one night, she’s saved by a mysterious stranger. But as more people fall victim to the beast, she’s torn between the two men who have entered her life—one a fierce protector, the other a dangerous enigma. Both seem to know more about the dark forces at play than they’re letting on.

Caught between a deadly predator and a town full of secrets, Ana must decide: can she trust the hunter or the wolf?

The Hunter’s Moon, an enemies to lovers shifter romance, is Book One in the Unleashed Series.


Excerpt:

The animal stayed in the bushes, following along slowly and silently as it tracked its prey. He could smell it. Taste it. And it attracted him like nothing ever had before.

Do wolves think in the same way that humans do? Or do they rely only on instinct, hunting mindlessly?

Whether intellectual reasoning or animal instinct, the wolf knew it had to watch this woman. It wanted her. It needed her.

Ana breathed in the early autumn air as she headed away from the university and onto the darker streets of the neighboring suburb. It was an older neighborhood, built in the 1920s when the town of Rivelou had begun to spread from its central location on the river, south across the railroad tracks. This particular section of town had been built for the railroad workers: tiny shotgun houses lined up on even tinier lawns.

As Ana crossed Roosevelt Avenue, the streetlights ended,  and the sidewalk was illuminated only by occasional porch or walk lights. She loved sauntering home from her evening classes this time of the year. The air, while it could not yet be called crisp, had lost its summer sultriness, a welcome change from the blistering heat of a Kentucky summer.

As she strolled down Harlan Street, farther from the more heavily trafficked avenue, the road became even darker. It was too soon for most of the leaves to have fallen; they were just beginning to turn red on this last week in September and were so thick on the trees that they hid the full moon. Part of the charm of the old neighborhood was the beautiful, large, old maples and oaks, but their roots also tore up the sidewalks. Ana tripped on one of those cracks. Papers, a lipstick, her wallet, and a few other necessary items spilled out of her purse, and she shook her head in disgust. How could she always trip in the same spot, night after night? It wasn’t as if she hadn’t memorized the uneven areas in the sidewalk after years of walking this way.

The young woman bent down to gather her various belongings and froze. Was that something growling? Somewhat spooked, Ana shoved everything back in her bag and hurried down the street. After a moment she slowed, listening carefully to the night noises around her.

Nothing unusual.

She shook her head. It must have been her imagination. She had slowed her pace and continued on when she heard the sound again. A low growl nearby. A dog? No one on this block had an animal big enough to make that sort of sound. That growl had definitely come from something larger than Mrs. Ahearn’s yappy little Pomeranian. She picked up her pace again.

Only a half block until she turned onto Sycamore, then another half block until she arrived at her own home.

The growl came again. She settled her purse more securely on her left shoulder, her computer bag on her right, and doubled her pace. There were no lights on any of the houses on this part of the block, and of course, the moon took that moment to hide behind a cloud. She took a deep breath and tried to walk at a steady pace. She wouldn’t run even though she could now hear the animal behind her as she rounded the corner. She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw her own porch light on as well as that of her neighbors, Joe and Linsdey. Only a few more steps to safety.

She was almost in front of her own door when she heard the rush of paws with nails clicking behind her on her sidewalk. With a howl, the animal knocked her down. Holding her computer case in front of her face, she yelled and pushed it at the animal’s huge, dark head. “Take a bite of that, you nasty beast!” It was all teeth and glowing eyes as it loomed over her, growling.

“What do you want?” she shouted. Though it had her on the ground, it didn’t make a move, just stood gazing at her. If she did move, it would strike. She had to do something. She drew a deep breath and prepared to scream when someone came running up behind her.

“Hey, you, get back! Get back!”

She turned her head and saw a man running toward her and the slobbering animal. The man grabbed a stick from the ground as he rushed forward, waving it at the animal.

“Back! Get back, you ugly beast!” he shouted again, striking the creature who turned, snarling at him. They stared intently at each other for a moment before the canine finally dodged the stick and lunged to take a bite out of the man.

The man got in a couple of good blows before the dog suddenly grabbed the stick, tugged at it, and knocked him to the ground. Fumbling in her purse, Ana took action just as the dog leaned back on its haunches preparing to strike. Just before he lunged on the fallen man, Ana found her can of mace and hit the dog in the face with the noxious spray. With a howl of pain, it ran into the darkness.

Several more porch lights suddenly popped on to light the night, and the street was filled with neighbors coming to check on the unusual commotion.

“Are you alright?” her rescuer, still gasping and out of breath, asked. “It didn’t bite you, did it?

 


About the Author:

Lee K. Rogers has been reading fantasy since she discovered the Brothers Grimm, and her love of the genre has only grown from there. From classics such as the Narnia series and The Lord of the Rings (before the movies came out of course!) to Charlaine Harris’ series and Pamela Clare—she reads it all. When she discovered urban fantasy romance she found her new passion. She particularly loves adding a little spicy sex to her own fantasy adventures.

Lee once lived in the Kentucky/Indiana border town on which she has modeled Rivelou. While she never met a werewolf there, she was convinced there was an entrance to the land of Fae just down the street from her house.

The Hunter’s Moon is the first in her paranormal romance series, Unleashed. The next two books, coming in 2025, are titled The Artificial Witch and The Vampire’s Heart.





The Staff of Beckoning by Praneet Menon Virtual Book Tour





The Staff of Beckoning
A Symphony of Spheres 
Book One 
Praneet Menon

Genre: Epic Fantasy
Publisher: Kaaran Publishing
Date of Publication: September 18, 2024
ASIN: B0DDVVN76P
Number of pages: 437
Word Count: 115,000

Tagline: Adir Nathar’s search for safety ignites a battle against ancient forces, where survival means confronting the shadows of fate—and his own destiny.

Book Description: 

In the meticulously-crafted world of Leakarha, where epic fantasy, mythos, and ancient prophecies intertwine, the existence of its inhabitants is shaped by forces beyond their control. 

Adir Nathar's tough childhood and prescriptive, quiet life in the village of Marafel made him yearn for more. He got what he wished for, but not in the way he expected. His proximity to an inexplicable death made him the target of revenge, forcing him to flee from his family and home, seeking only safety and a fresh start. But existence had other plans. The Khasmia Shadow, a secret society with a divine purpose, is hunting Adir, unbeknownst to him. Their purpose: rid the world of a destructive creature called a venna, using the sacred Staff of Beckoning. Leakarha itself is undergoing a seismic shift. Rakhor, terrible demonspawn, are being seen in increasing numbers! 

As the Khasmia Shadow closes in on him, Adir is thrust into an existence-altering journey across Leakarha with companions new and old. As he is pushed deeper into his own shadows, Adir realizes that he may not merely be a piece to be moved but rather the key to the game itself.


Excerpt:

“Where are you going?” Tia’s eyes were wide with anxiety.

“Out.”

“But I don’t know this town at all.”

“Don’t leave the inn then!”

As soon as he stepped out into the night, all of his warmth left him. However, the wheat ales—much stronger than he was used to—had begun to take effect. That, combined with the fact that his last meal had been hours before, made the cold a distant sensation. Strapping his staff to his back, he picked a direction and wandered off—his mind getting mushier and more vulnerable to his increasingly foul mood.

Tia had always been a very supportive girl. What had changed? Or had she always been like this and her support was just an act? Did she really think that he would abandon her? I would never do such a thing, he thought indignantly. He wasn’t his father. Sure, yea, he could be a little flirtatious, he admitted. But that was harmless. Why couldn’t Tia see that? After all, he’d asked her to run away with him. Didn’t that imply he wanted to start a life with her? Didn’t that mean anything to her? His mind was plagued with too many questions and not enough answers.

Abruptly, he found himself in a dark, dimly lit alley, with buildings rising up around him.

Everything seemed ... slightly off. Hesitantly, he walked down the alley and made a few turns. A few moments of wandering later, he admitted that he was lost and decided to retrace his steps, but it all looked unfamiliar. With no other option he kept walking, hoping to find his way back, when he came upon three men in a dark corner.

“Give it up, you unworthy bastard!” said one of the men, who had a lilting accent. He was clutching another man’s collar in one hand while wielding a knife in the other. A third man stood and watched.

“I did not steal it! He gave it to me!” cried the captive man.

“Do not lie, you swinespawn!”

“I swear by the names of the Miakos. He gave it to me!”

The third man still just stood and watched.

Adir wasn’t sure what came over him. Maybe it was his anger and he just needed to let it out. Or maybe he understood how the captive man felt; after all, he had been ambushed a couple of times himself. Whatever the reasoning of his drink-addled mind, he unstrapped his staff and charged.

The man who’d been watching noticed Adir and whirled around, pulling out a knife of his own. However, knives were a poor defense against the long reach of a staff. Adir whipped his staff sideways, cracking the man in the skull, who dropped to the ground, motionless.

The man who held the captive by his collar was startled by the sudden attack and shoved his captive to the ground. The captive lay on his stomach, face cupped in his hands as if trying to shut out his current plight.

Adir felt a surge of energy course through him as he pulled his staff back, preparing for a thrust.

He lunged, briefly catching a look of horror on the man’s face, and thrust his staff square into the man’s chest. The impact sent the man flying a few paces before he slammed into a wall and slumped to the ground.

For a moment that lasted one flap of a bee’s wing, Adir saw a rain- bow-colored haze on his hand, creeping up his arm. Fearfully, he jerked his hand to his face for a closer examination, but the haze was no longer there.

The once-captive, now-free man looked up from his prone position and surveyed the scene, then stood. “Thank you, master,” he said, bowing and scraping. “I am forever in your debt.”

The man’s words seemed to tumble out of his mouth in a clatter, or maybe Adir couldn’t understand him on account of being severely drunk. “What did you steal from them?” Adir asked, eyeing the man suspiciously, his inebriation fueling his paranoia. Sure, he’d saved the bearded man, but that didn’t mean the man was harmless.

“I did not steal anything, master,” the man said, still pronouncing every word oddly.

Adir looked at him, trying to force his eyes to focus. “All right,” he said, realizing that he’d do nothing even if the man admitted to stealing something. All he really wanted to do was get back to the inn and sleep. “Do you know the way to The Soft Pillow?” he asked, trying and failing miserably to strap his staff onto his back.

“Ya, master,” the man replied with enthusiasm. “I will take you there.”



About the Author: 

Born and raised in India, Praneet’s life began immersed in a medley of cultural, linguistic, and spiritual traditions that sparked his passion for storytelling. Then, he moved to the United States and has now spent more than half his life there. The two cultural backgrounds have led him to embrace a fusion of Eastern and Western philosophies that deeply influence his writing. 

Praneet also spent the better part of two decades working as an engineer and flight instructor, which instilled in him a precision that he brings to his existence-building, pursuing that perfect blend of reality and fantasy. His exploration of philosophy and psychology at an early age allows him to imbue his stories with age-old themes of identity, purpose, and destiny. These themes play a central role in his debut novel, The Staff of Beckoning, Book 1 of the series A Symphony of Spheres. 

Praneet lives in Vermont, embracing a homesteading lifestyle, community involvement, and writing while pursuing a master’s in counseling.











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