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Cursed (A Balance of Magic #2) by Jackie Keswick #giveaway

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Cursed (A Balance of Magic #2)

Author: Jackie Keswick

Cover Artist: Jackie Keswick

Release Date: March 23, 2022

Genre: M/M Fantasy

Tropes: Friends to lovers, love vs. duty, soul mates, found family, worlds in peril, two against the world, hurt/comfort

Series Themes: the world is fragile, short-term decisions have long-term consequences, gifts are given for a reason

Heat Rating: 3 flames     

Length:  77 000 words

It is the second book in a trilogy.

The book does not end on a cliffhanger. Raijin and Sandro’s story ends on a HFN. The main story arc continues across all three books.

Goodreads

 

Buy Links

Universal Link

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK  |  PayHip

Apple  |  B&N  |  Kobo

 

Two friends. Two worlds. A selfish desire that threatens them both.

 

Blurb

Two friends. Two worlds. A selfish desire that threatens them both.

Raijin killed a witch and found himself cursed.

Sandro went to Raijin’s aid and became an assassin’s target.

Neither expected that they would trigger the biggest upheaval their world had seen in a thousand years.

And that it needed the love between them to lift the curse.

 

Cursed, the second book in the Balance of Magic series, is a slow-burn m/m fantasy romance featuring friends-to-lovers who become soulmates, irate death gods, curses, inept, narcissistic politicians, curious, compassionate witches, and a found family.

 

Excerpt 

France, Summer 1920

“Poplars and plane trees, beeches and birches, or a mountainside of firs.” Sandro stared into the bottom of his wine glass and tried to keep the misery at bay. “Is it really too much to wish for a few olive and lemon trees? I’ve not been near my grove in six years. Six years, Raijin!”

“I know.”

“What if they’ve dug it up?”

“Why would they?”

Sandro set the glass down. “To spite us,” he said.

Raijin stared at him.

“I know, I know. It’s not like me to think badly of people.” He waved a hand. “But what other interpretation is there for the way Tan Hao treats us? Every time we finish a task, he finds another one that keeps us from the base. Do you really think he does that to everyone?”

Raijin wisely kept his mouth shut.

Sandro was grateful. He’d never been a maudlin drunk, but the last six years had changed many things. Being prevented from visiting the only home he’d ever known… hurt. Even if he’d barely spent a day alone while the human world tore itself to pieces.

Maybe he shouldn’t complain. Especially not to Raijin. He hadn’t been home for far longer, but… He lifted a hand to summon the waiter and order another bottle of wine, when Raijin stopped him.

“Come along. I have an idea.”

“What kind?”

“The good kind.” Raijin smiled the soft, lopsided smile that Sandro had no defences against.

“Tell me.”

“In a moment.”

They paid for their meal and left the restaurant, wandering up the street towards their lodgings. They had their own courtyard garden, had food, and even wine, but Sandro had been too restless to stay home, and Raijin had indulged him.

“You’ve been doing that a lot lately.” He tried to express his gratitude.

“Doing what?”

“Indulging me. I’m… Ignore me.”

“Never.” Raijin unlocked the gate and ushered them into the place they’d made their base since the Armistice. It was clean, comfortable, and private. But it wasn’t home.

Sandro had no idea what Raijin meant to do, but he didn’t have to wonder long. As soon as he’d locked the gate behind them, Raijin took hold of his arm, opened the veil and tugged Sandro through.

Two steps later, scents of brine and citrus hit his nose. Soft, springy turf caressed his feet, and one look at the familiar trees had him fight back tears.

Raijin had brought them to the top of the Custodia base. Had given Sandro what he’d most needed: a visit to his grove of lemon trees.

If he could have touched all his trees at once, he’d have done so. Since he lacked that ability, he wrapped his arms around the nearest tree, and hummed.

The trees responded, impressions wrapping him up like a cloak: comings and goings, hot sun and sparkling raindrops, a storm from the east. Sandro soaked it all up like a starving man and shared his own experiences in turn.

After the first sharing was done, Sandro went from tree to tree, touching, checking, renewing his connection. When he joined Raijin at the centre of the grove and accepted the glass of wine Raijin had poured him, he hummed with green energy, his watcher sight as sensitive as it had never been before.

“I wish I could explain—” he began hesitantly.

Only for Raijin to wave it away. “It’s fine. You wanted to check on your family. I understand.”

Raijin wasn’t demonstrative.

But when he chose to make a point, he took Sandro’s breath away.

 

 

About the Author 

Jackie Keswick was born behind the Iron Curtain with itchy feet, a bent for rocks and a recurring dream of stepping off a bus in the middle of nowhere to go home. She’s worked in a hospital and as the only girl with 52 men on an oil rig, spent a winter in Moscow and a summer in Iceland and finally settled in the country of her dreams with her dream team: a husband, a cat, a tandem, a hammer and a laptop.

Jackie loves unexpected reunions and second chances, and men who write their own rules. She blogs about English history and food, has a thing for green eyes, and is a great believer in making up soundtracks for everything, including her characters and the cat.

And she still hasn’t found the place where the bus stops.

For questions and comments, not restricted to green eyes, bus stops or recipes for traditional English food, you can find Jackie Keswick in all the usual places

 

Blog/Website  |  Facebook group  |  Facebook page  |  Twitter 

Instagram  |  Newsletter Sign-up  |  TikTok  |  Patreon 

 

 

Giveaway 

Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win

$10 Amazon gift card and an ebook of choice from the author’s backlist

a Rafflecopter giveaway
 

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions

Blink: MM Supernatural Suspense by Morgan Brice #giveaway AUTHOR INTERVIEW

BLOG TOUR

Book Title: Blink: MM Supernatural Suspense

Author: Morgan Brice

Publisher: Darkwind Press

Cover Artist: Lou Harper

Release Date: September 2, 2021

Genres: Paranormal/Urban Fantasy M/M Romance, action/adventure, romantic suspense

Tropes: Second chance love, hurt/comfort, true soulmates, psychic, medium, witches, ghosts, haunted theater, Mafia, mobsters, ex-cop, ex-Interpol, resort town, starting over

Themes: Learning to trust, taking a chance, making a commitment, daring to dream, letting go of the past, being haunted by the past, established relationship, ex-cop/PI, former art fraud investigator, mobsters, medium with a ghostly lover, haunted theater, awesome and heroic food truck, mystery, cold case

Heat Rating: 5 flames

Length: 65 000 words/228 pages

It is part of series but could be read as a stand alone. It does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads 

 

Buy Links

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK  

 

Ghosts always remember. Mobsters never forget.

 

Blurb 

Erik Mitchell helped Interpol bust cartels, oligarchs, and spoiled billionaires for art fraud. As an undercover cop, Ben Nolan helped bring down a Newark crime family. Now Erik and Ben have started over in Cape May, leaving their danger-filled jobs behind them, excited about a fresh start and their new relationship.

Plans to renovate a historic old theater stir up dangerous ghosts and revive interest in unsolved Mob hits. The curse of a murdered witch strikes a close friend, old movie props reveal clues to long-ago crimes, and a shakedown scheme sends Ben’s cousin running for cover. 

Time is running out to lift the curse. The Russian Mob wants revenge on Erik, and the Newark Mob is gunning for Ben. A grieving ghost seeks justice. Secrets, lies, and deception unravel in the blink of an eye. 

Erik and Ben were planning for happily ever after. But unless they can outwit witches, wraiths, and wise guys, they could go down in a hail of gunfire and a blast of dark magic—and see their plans go up in smoke. 

Blink is a suspenseful MM paranormal romance mystery-adventure filled with second chance love, hurt/comfort, true soulmates, awesome food trucks, dangerous secrets, restless ghosts, psychic visions, powerful witches, angry mobsters, and a very haunted theater.

 

 

Excerpt 

“Hi everyone. Are we going in?” A dark-haired woman in her early forties with olive skin and black hair sauntered up, dark eyes sparkling with curiosity. Alessia Mason always seemed calm and controlled, but now she clearly radiated excitement at the possibility of glimpsing the old theater.

Alessia owned the Spirit of the Sea gift shop and had married into one of the old Cape May families, but right now what mattered most was her role as the head of the local coven and the powerful magic she had inherited from her Sicilian mother.

“Right this way,” Jaxon said, brandishing the key. “The Arts Council officially owns the building, so we don’t even have to sneak in.”

He unlocked the door to the convenience store, which was a shell of its past self. All of the fixtures had been sold off, but the faded signage around the top of the walls remained, directing customers toward soft drinks, sundries, and restrooms.

They followed him inside, and Jaxon locked the door behind them. Then they headed toward the back, past the break room and offices to an unmarked door.

“The store was here for over twenty years, and most people never knew that the Regent Theater lay behind it,” Jaxon said. He gestured toward the area they had just navigated.

“Imagine coming through the big glass doors, past the ticket booth,” Jaxon said, pointing back the way they had come. “You’d enter a high-ceiling lobby with a bar, concession stand, and seating for patrons who came early to see and be seen. Then you’d move farther inside, and there would be double doors leading into the actual theater.”

Erik looked behind them, struggling to imagine the way it had once been. A grid of acoustic panels hid the original molded plaster ceiling several feet higher that he had seen in photographs. The plain walls and stained tile floor made it difficult to picture lush red carpet, velvet rope swags, cocktail servers, and a concession stand that not only had popcorn but according to the stories Jaxon shared on the drive over, also served foie gras.

Jaxon opened the door and reached inside to flip on a light. Erik hesitated to get a psychic read on the space ahead.

“Definitely haunted,” Alessia said, staring into the distance with a glazed look that told Erik her attention lay elsewhere.

His own touch magic worked differently. To get a strong reaction, Erik usually had to be in physical contact with an object. He had avoided touching anything since they had arrived, but even so, the theater itself gave off unmistakable vibes. Both he and Alessia had extra perception which included seeing ghosts, although neither was a full medium able to summon or speak with the dead.

“Bad things happened here.” Erik found himself speaking before he realized it. “Dark magic. Death. Cursed.”

 

 

About the Author

Morgan Brice is the romance pen name of bestselling author Gail Z. Martin. Morgan writes urban fantasy male/male paranormal romance, with plenty of action, adventure and supernatural thrills to go with the happily ever after. Gail writes epic fantasy and urban fantasy, and together with co-author hubby Larry N. Martin, steampunk and comedic horror, all of which have less romance, more explosions. Characters from her Gail books make frequent appearances in secondary roles in her Morgan books, and vice versa.

On the rare occasions Morgan isn’t writing, she’s either reading, cooking, or spoiling two very pampered dogs.

Series include Witchbane, Badlands, Treasure Trail, Kings of the Mountain and Fox Hollow. Watch for more in these series, plus new series coming soon!

 

Author Links

Website  |  Audible Profile  |  Amazon profile

Facebook Group  |   Facebook Page

  Pinterest (for Morgan and Gail)  |  Twitter    

 BookBub  |  Instagram

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Read a copy of my Badlands short story Restless Nights here for free

 

AUTHOR INTERVIEW PROMPTS

 

The unqualified regret you wish you could amend…

A: Not waiting in line to go inside the Cathedral of Notre Dame in Paris before the fire.

 

The temptation you wish you could resist…

A: Krispy Kreme raspberry-filled donuts!

 

The priority activity if you were invisible for a day…

A: Reading something (without interruption) that I don’t have to proof!

 

The film you can watch time and time again…

A: Clue—The Movie. Makes me laugh every time.

 

The unlikely interest that engages your curiosity…

A: I love to read about urban explorers and see the photos they post.

 

The event that altered the course of your life…

A: Signing the contract for my first book

 

Your early recollections of writing fiction…

A: I asked my grandmother to write down my story because I couldn’t spell yet. It was about a vampire.

 

The way you would spend your fantasy twenty-four hours, with no travel restrictions…

A: At the beach, toes in the sand, with a good book and an adult beverage.

 

The pet hate that makes your hackles rise…

A: People who take up two parking spaces

 

The book you enjoyed planning/writing the most…

A: Whatever I’m currently working on!

 

And the promo… 

’m very excited to return to Cape May and the Treasure Trail series. I love the real town, and I’m enjoying building out the fictional version with its locations and side characters. It’s also fun to watch Erik and Ben explore their relationship and grow as individuals and as a couple. And of course, there are ghosts galore and murderous mobsters!

Blink is a suspenseful MM paranormal romance mystery-adventure filled with second chance love, hurt/comfort, true soulmates, awesome food trucks, dangerous secrets, psychic visions, powerful witches and a very haunted theater.

The lighthouse on the cover is the real Cape May Lighthouse, and both it and the WWII bunker I mention are part of the state park. I enjoy finding and using real locations in the books, or creating a fictionalized version if necessary. Doing the research for that is fun!

There will be more stories in the Treasure Trail series! I’ve already got the cover art for Book Three and it’s amazing. So stay tuned—there’s more coming up!

Thank you, Morgan.

 

Giveaway 

Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win

your choice of ebook from Morgan’s backlist

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions

New Release – Flowers Under My Pillow by Nell Iris @nellirisauthor #giveaway

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title: Flowers Under My Pillow

Author: Nell Iris

Publisher: JMS Books

Cover Artist: Written Ink Designs

Release Date: June 26, 2021

Genre: Contemporary M/M Romance

Trope: Soul mates

Themes: Older characters (40+), instant connection, meet cute 

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length:  17 477 words

It is a standalone story

Goodreads

 

Buy Links 

JMS Books  |  Universal Link 

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK

 

Smiling brown eyes. A dark beard. Dandelions. Sunny, happy dandelions.

 

Blurb

Smiling brown eyes. A dark beard. Dandelions. Sunny, happy dandelions.

For thirty years, Frode’s had the same dream. Every Midsummer’s Eve since he was a kid accompanying his sister to pick flowers to put under his pillow, he’s dreamed of the same man. A dream he never shares with anyone, that makes him wish for impossible things…like true love.

“It’s you.”

Then one Midsummer’s Eve, the man of Frode’s dreams stands before him in the flesh. Both men recognize each other despite never having met in real life. Both men are instantly drawn to each other and want to know more.

“Who are you, Viljar? Are you even real?”

Their questions are many but do the whys and the hows matter? Or should they allow the Midsummer magic that brought them together to lead the way into each other’s arms? Into each other’s hearts?

Traditional Swedish folklore tells you that if you pick seven kinds of flowers in silence and put them under your pillow on Midsummer’s Eve, you’ll dream of the man you’ll marry.

 

Excerpt

When I look around to take in my surroundings, I realize my feet have carried me to the cottage without me noticing, and something catches my attention on the lawn on the other side of the fence.

A closer look reveals a tripod with a big, professional-looking camera attached on top. And underneath it, a man lies on his back, surrounded by a starry sky of tiny white flowers growing low in the grass. I don’t want to disturb him and I’m just about to sneak away when he turns his head toward me. 

Warm brown eyes, with crow’s feet radiating out from the corners, meet mine. But it’s his full beard, scattered with dandelions, that makes my heart tumble over itself in my chest. 

Smiling eyes. A full beard. Dandelions. 

Dandelions

My hand flies to my chest as I forget how to breathe. 

It’s him.

****

The man’s eyes widen, then he springs to his feet, banging his knee into the tripod almost making it topple over, but his arm shoots out, his big hand landing on the camera, stopping it from crashing down onto the grass.

“It’s you,” he says, his voice a deep rumble emanating from the pit of his stomach, vibrating its way to me, settling in my core.

It’s you. 

What does he mean? Does he recognize me, too? 

“It’s you,” he says again as he takes a few hesitant steps in my direction. His eyes never leave my face. 

“It’s you,” I echo, brows furrowed. 

The improbability of it all, of my recurring dream materializing and standing in front of me, makes me take a step backward. He leaps forward, dislodging a couple of the dandelions from his beard by the sudden movement, and I watch them sail to the ground. 

When I look up at him again, it’s as though I’m zooming out of my body and look at the two of us from a distance. Two men, separated by a white picket fence, staring at each other as though they’ve seen a ghost, as though they both think they must be hallucinating. His features are so familiar; I know every line radiating from the corner of his eyes, every strand of his beard. I know all the nuances of brown in his dark eyes; as though someone swirled chocolate into a deep well of coffee and then sprinkled some gold into the mix to make it irresistible. I know the sensitive setting of his mouth. I know the intense gaze.

It makes me dizzy, and I stumble but manage to keep myself upright. I take another wobbly step backward.

“Don’t go,” he says. “Please.” He stops but holds out his hand as though he wants to touch me to make sure I’m real. 

The feeling is mutual. How is this even possible? How can the man I’ve dreamed about every Midsummer these last thirty years be right here a few steps from me? As though I’ve dreamed him into existence. 

I drag my gaze away from his face and take in the rest of him. He’s tall and broad-shouldered, his biceps are straining the short sleeves of his button-down shirt. He’s got a rounded belly and meaty thighs filling out his faded jeans, and his big wide feet are bare in the grass. 

Heat stirs between my hips. God, he’s not only the literal man of my dreams, but he’s hot as sin, too. When I force myself to look away from his body, our gazes meet. 

“You recognize me, too,” he says, eyes pleading. “I can tell from your reaction.”

I dip my chin once. “I do.”

My heart flutters in my chest like the wings of a colibri. Another dandelion falls from his beard and my gaze follows it down as it lands softly on the ground. 

My mind spins with questions and it’s making me dizzy again. How can the man from my dreams stand before me in the flesh? A living, breathing human being? A living breathing human being who recognizes me too?  

When our eyes meet again, I read the same confusion in him. 

 

About the Author 

Nell Iris is a romantic at heart who believes everyone deserves a happy ending. She’s a bona fide bookworm (learned to read long before she started school), wouldn’t dream of going anywhere without something to read (not even the ladies room), loves music (and singing along at the top of her voice but she’s no Celine Dion), and is a real Star Trek nerd (Make it so). She loves words, bullet journals, poetry, wine, coffee-flavored kisses, and fika (a Swedish cultural thing involving coffee and pastry!)

Nell believes passionately in equality for all regardless of race, gender or sexuality, and wants to make the world a better, less hateful, place.

Nell is a bisexual Swedish woman married to the love of her life, a proud mama of a grown daughter, and is approaching 50 faster than she’d like. She lives in the south of Sweden where she spends her days thinking up stories about people falling in love. After dreaming about being a writer for most of her life, she finally was in a place where she could pursue her dream and released her first book in 2017.

Nell Iris writes gay romance, prefers sweet over angsty, short over long, and quirky characters over alpha males. 

 

Author Links

Blog/Website  |  Facebook Author Page  |  Facebook Profile

Twitter  |   Instagram   |  Goodreads

Pinterest  |  BookBub  |  Newsletter

 

 

Giveaway

Enter the Rafflecopter giveaway for a chance to win

one of three ebook copies from Nell’s backlist

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

Hosted by Gay Book Promotions

New Release – Xavier’s School of Discipline by S. Legend #KindleUnlimited #giveaway

RELEASE BLITZ

Book Title:  Xavier’s School of Discipline

Author: S. Legend

Publisher:  Mockingbird Publications

Cover Artist:  Nadia Polyakova and Chiara Monaco

Inner Book Artist: Artsy Ape

Release Date: April 21, 2021

Genre: Erotic M/M Romance

Trope: Soulmates 

Themes: Belonging.  Found Family.  Spanking.  Domestic Discipline. 

Heat Rating:  4 flames

Length: 83 539 words/306 print pages

This is book one in the series but can be read as a standalone.

Add on Goodreads

 

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Universal Link  |  Amazon US  |   Amazon UK 

 

“… there’s something tantalizing about trouble and me in it with him.”

 

Blurb

Follow Your Heart’s Discipline Calling

Finnegan Brighton is twenty-seven, has never moved out of Dad’s house, can’t keep a job and has to rely on his brother for continued food and shelter. In a bold move, he ships himself off to one of those new, fangle-dangle, discipline schools hoping to turn his life around. But it’s not just a whim, he’s finally answering a calling inside of him, one he’s ignored until now. The school turns out to be more than he bargained for, giving him a family of men just like him, who want to teach him that he can love himself enough to have everything he’s ever wanted. He just has to do the one thing he’s never been able to do: Surrender. 

Enter Xavier. 

Xavier is the school’s unyielding headmaster and founder. Oh, and he happens to be interested in the one Finnegan Brighton. Surely with the forces of the strict headmaster and Finnegan’s affectionate, if overzealous domestic discipline family, he can overcome himself, his own worst enemy, and surrender to who he is inside, right? Or will his crushing self-doubt chain him to old patterns forever?

Either way, much spanking ensues! A polyamorous love story with brats and Tops.

 

Excerpt 

From Chapter 6

Dammit. I know what to do. I need to do it. As much as Tops are drawn to soothe us … oh fine ‘brats’, us brats are drawn to soothe Tops. I’ve watched Grayson do it a ton, Chris, Bellamy and Johnny too. Even Bray when he’s in the mood. I swallow. “Oh, sir? One more thing. We can still have people over, right?” It’s not against House rules for each of us to have one friend from another House over. If it’s more than that, it turns into a party, which would require permission, but as the rules stand, that means one for me and one for Grayson.

His eyes narrow. “Who?”’

I shrug. “Haven’t decided yet, but there is this hot Top, Nikolage, from one of my harder classes. Maybe he can uh, help me with my homework?” I waggle my eyebrows, suggesting that yes, fucking Nikolage is what I mean. 

His chair slides out, he stands, hands flat on the desk and my heart’s beating so damn fast. I have to take a stealthy breath. Maybe I should abandon the whole thing—I’m poking at a fucking lion and I know it—but I also know in my bones it’s the right thing to do. 

“No.” 

“Why?” I dare to cross my arms at him—a, God … a brat’s red flag, okay?

“Come here, my little Finnegan.” He flashes shark teeth at me. He is predator, I am prey. 

I want to buckle, I want to tell him I’m just kidding, but I’m in too deep now. I commit. “So you can spank me? Forget it. It’s not against the rules. I was kind enough to even run it by you. I’ll be leaving now.” 

I went too far didn’t I? Yep. Too far. 

Xavier clears his desk in a smooth, panther-like leap. I’m quick to respond, gripping either side of the leather chair I was just sitting in, catapulting myself over it. But I was a hockey player, not a gymnast and though my response is quick, my catapulting skills aren’t graceful. I catch the chair and hit my knee, landing like a rock on the other side. “Fuck!” I roll on the ground behind it, licking my wounds. 

How is it I can take one helluva spanking, but this paralyzes me?

Xavier’s there fast, reminding me of Superman, with the way his jacket flares. He crouches beside me. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you. Are you hurt?”

I laugh. “I’m fine. I wasn’t scared.” 

“You were a bit, but … well I thought you wanted me to chase you.” I’ve never seen the man blush, he does now. He can’t even look at me. 

I wait until he braves my eyes again. “Xavier, I did want you to chase me.” 

He stares frozen, my words sinking in, as my heart thumps loud drumbeats into my ears. While I wait for him to come to, I rub my sore knee. It is fine, but there’s gonna be a nice bruise I’ll have to explain to Ani later. I smile thinking of the arnica he’ll insist he has to apply to it. Xavier notices my rubbing. 

“Your knee.” 

“No, Xavier—” 

But it’s too late. He scoops me up and it’s fucking embarrassing how easy it is for him to lift me. It’s not like I’m small. He’s got me bridal style and he swings me around, placing me in the chair and bending down to inspect the knee. I wore loose jeans, he’s able to roll them up to have a look. “Doesn’t look to be swelling, but you’ll ice it anyway when you’re home. Understood?”

He’s holding my knee in both of his elegant hands, which are hot against my skin. I have to look down at him. “I will, sir.” 

I’m kicking myself now. This was a disaster. One point to me on not being a brat, a real brat would have pulled this off, I end up injuring myself. 

“Now that it’s established your knee will be fine, we will address, Nikolage.” His nose wrinkles, his form takes up all the space in the room once again. 

Shit. Already forgot about Nikolage. “There’s no Nikolage. I just said that to—” 

“—I know Nikolage.” 

“I meant there’s no Nikolage for me, sir. I only said that to, never mind. May I go?”

He’s staring at me for a new reason now, a smile spreads slowly, reaching his eyes. He yanks me up. We’re close, my lips aren’t far from his. “I want to spank you so badly right now.” 

That was the goal. “You uh, you can, sir.” My voice is above a whisper. 

“I know. I can spank you whenever I want. But that would not be a good idea. It’s day eight, Finnegan.” 

“I am well aware of the day, Headmaster Harkness,” I say, boldness returning. Two can play the game of cheek, but only one of us will win, we both know it’s going to be him. 

“All right, that’s quite enough cheek from you, brat.” 

I light up everywhere. Maybe him calling me brat isn’t so bad?

“I don’t date people, Mr. Brighton. I own them. Do you want to be owned?”

 

About the Author 

Some of you know her as Mock, others as S. Legend, or Miss S.  She welcomes all names but will often go by Mock, a name given to her by her readers.

Mock is an ambitious creative, weaving the most precious aspects of her soul into stories.  She is an architect, building fascinating worlds, designed from inquiry, rooted in worldly wonderings.  It’s an intuitive process where she is the scribe, the translator, the conduit. 

It helped that storytelling was the language spoken at home.  One simply didn’t say, “We have an ant infestation. ” In Mock’s family it was, “I was on my way to the living room, when a peculiar ant crossed my path.  I looked to my right, a suspicious line of them marched toward the pantry.  In that moment I knew; my kitchen was under siege.”  The natural flow of conversation always took this form.  

And so. 

When Mock wrote her first novel, she didn’t plan it chapter by chapter, there was no outline, no “plotting” to speak of.  But she didn’t “pants” it either, she didn’t make it up as she went along.  She knew how the story felt, where it curved in places and hollowed in others; she knew the destination it rushed toward.  Instead of orchestrating, she let the world inspire her, and held space for the words to come, trusting the characters knew what they were doing.  All she had to do was tell a story, as she always had done; like breathing.  

This is her peace, her healing and solace: Gifts better shared.

Mock’s works are the comfort you seek when you need to come home.  Her unique writing style will take you, wayfaring reader, to unexpected destinations. 

She always says, “I’m not in the business of making up stories, I couldn’t if I tried.  I’m lucky enough to get picked to share someone else’s story when I ask a question to the universe.  Someone answers; I write it down.” 

 

 

Social Media Links

Blog/Website  |   Facebook  |   Twitter  |  Instagram  

Newsletter Sign-up: Can either sign up at the website or email

Pinterest  |   BookBub

 

 

Giveaway 

Enter the Rafflecopter Giveaway for a chance to win

one of two signed paperback copies

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

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