Monthly Archives: December 2015
As an independent reviewer for Paranormal Romance and Authors that Rock, I can gladly give this five full fangs for catching my attention quickly and keeping me turning pages! The characters are well developed and interesting, the story is believable and it leaves you wanting to spend more time in this verse.
There were a few scenes that can be considered erotica, so take care with younger readers but its not excessive or unnecessary sex by any means. A wonderful feel good romance!
With a day job and a dream job, her writing is a steamy combination of real life and seeking to answer the age-old question of what would happen if…and then characters come along and completely derail the plan. Letting them have their say provides plenty of sleepless nights and an endless combination of coffee and wine, but she hopes you enjoy their stories.
Crestfall: A Novel of Earth and Fire
Lily St. John McKee
Genre: young adult/paranormal
Publisher: Posterity Press, Inc.
Date of Publication: November 23, 2015
Word Count: 64,425
Cover Artist: Robert L. Wiser
Crestfall is a dark fantasy with a heart of love—for the earth, its creatures and plants, for people who strive, care, and face down fear.
Its young heroine, Aria Andrews, interrupts her medieval history studies to attend her sister’s funeral in a town on the rugged coast of Newfoundland.
Her estranged twin was murdered, and Aria becomes a suspect before setting out to uncover the brutal truth with the help of her brother Fynn, his girlfriend Sophie (a witch), and forthright Bennet Halfnight, a handsome detective.
All three Andrews siblings have possessed unworldly natural powers; Aria uses hers to pursue an old antagonist and confront new ones: shape-shifters and werewolves in this startling romantic novel of beastly gore and human tenderness.
CHAPTER 1: STRANGER THINGS
Myths are truths buried beneath layers of speculation and obscurity. There are those who would disagree, but I have seen enough of the world beneath the veneer of civilization to know better. Legends travel in the same boat as myths. They only differ because they were once thought to be real, but the validity of such things has been shrouded by the passage of several generations.
These thoughts circled in my mind as I waited to go through the long lines at immigration and at the airport car rental. With a long drive ahead, I stopped to stock up on the necessities – food, water, and a couple of books on CD.
In northeastern Canada, an island called Newfoundland breaches the Arctic Circle. Newfoundland is a strange place. The Vikings found it, but did not stay. The Irish, English, Portuguese, Spanish and the French settled the wild land in the 18th and 19th centuries. It is a rough land, full of crags and uneven edges. The climate weeds out those who are unable to withstand colder weather. It takes a sturdy constitution to survive in the vicious winters and cool summers. The temperature rarely climbs above 70 degrees Fahrenheit. The water can be an unreal shade of blue, such as one would never see north of the tropics. The forests that line the coast are thick and green in the summer. Coral formations sit just underwater in the coves bordered by the jagged coast. Thousands of years of erosion are lined by watermarks that delineate the different water levels. And this island is where my siblings have decided to live.
I still could not believe that she finally got me to come to Newfoundland. After years of taunting me with her shenanigans, she got herself killed. I was finally free of her. My identical twin and I were as opposite as night and day. Though she and I were not always like that. Something changed when we turned thirteen. She became cruel and careless to herself and others. When we were young she was my best friend. She was the kindest person you could ever meet. Then she began to delight in crushing the hopes of those around her. She would take their opportunities for herself. Sonata was an opportunist from hell. She had the ability to ferret out my dreams, and would systematically demolish them before my eyes.
The worst part was that Mom and Dad were oblivious to her manipulations. Only our brother, Fynn, knew the real Sonata. When I tried to get our parents to see the lies she was spinning, I was punished. When I turned eighteen, I left home and never looked back. The only reason I stayed as long as I did was Fynn. My big brother was a godsend. But when one of Sonata’s friends got her claws into him, I could no longer trust him. So I hardly ever spoke to him in the intervening years while I was studying abroad.
I left to go to college on the opposite side of the ocean. I went to Cambridge and graduated with honors. Afterwards, I decided to stay to pursue a master’s. I was working on my master’s thesis, about the Black Death of 1348-1350, when Fynn called with the news that Sonata was dead. The service was being held in the Crestfall Church, in the town she called home. With everything that she had done, she had no right to be buried on hallowed ground.
Memories of the past flitted through my mind as the miles sped by. Before I knew it, I had entered the outskirts of Crestfall. I had never even heard about this town until Fynn called me. We were raised on the opposite side of Canada in Vancouver. Nevertheless, Crestfall was a beautiful town. The houses were quirky and painted in a riot of colors—one bubblegum pink and another the color of purple hydrangeas. The town itself was close to the ocean, beside a large bay with a rocky headland that made a sheltered anchorage for the dories of solitary fishermen and the trawlers that coursed offshore for the big cod and salmon. Sea gulls were everywhere and the townsfolk were obsessed with puffins. Everywhere I looked stores had “puffins” in their names. Also, on the docks were many boats advertising whale watching tours and trips to see these comical seabirds.
I would have preferred that Sonata be cremated, so that she could never come back. I never could tell with my twin, she might be having a big joke on me, forcing me to come here for her funeral only to show up and mock me. But it was not my call. It was Fynn’s, since our parents’ death in a freak accident had made him our guardian of sorts, even after we became adults.
My car squealed to a stop in front of the church. I paused to straighten my outfit: a black skirt that stopped just short of the knees, knee-high stiletto boots, a black and white V-necked shirt, and a black jean jacket. Finding nothing amiss, I walked up the steps and into the church. This was going to be hard, but I was not grief-stricken. I was sad that my sister was dead. After all, she was my second half, but I only mourned the loss of my childhood half, my womb-mate.
I had not seen Fynn for seven years and it scared me to think about seeing him so soon after Sonata’s death. I would have preferred being invisible and I dreaded the thought of being the focus of every irritated and stunned eye as I walked toward the pew designated for family. But it could not be helped. I had been traveling for so long, I could not remember what I was doing when I got Fynn’s call. I waited until the last minute to book my flight. It was not as if I wanted to come.
The service was almost over—I hadn’t thought I was that late—and my entrance caused a slight commotion as I interrupted the minister’s eulogy.
Head held high, I walked down the aisle searching for Fynn. I found him seated in the front row. He looked stoic as always, but thinner than I remembered. He must not be eating right. I made a mental note to restock his fridge before I left and to create a list of things he should continue to get. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a young woman with black hair, with streaks of pink, purple, green, and blue threaded through it. Her eyes were a strange amber color. I reached Fynn and took a seat next to him. I could hear the whispers from those who had come to mourn. I was unsure whether this had been a good idea.
When the minister did not resume his speech, but rather stood and stared at me, I felt a twinge of unease and said, “apologies.”
“Would you like to say something?” the minister asked.
I thought for a moment and stood. I turned to the congregation and said, “My mother once told me that if I didn’t have anything nice to say, don’t say anything at all.” I nodded as if that was final and sat back down.
The young minister continued to stare at me.
Sighing, I waited for him to regain the ability to speak.
“I thought Mother told that to Sonata,” Fynn whispered to me. It echoed in the now silent church.
“You only thought it was Sonata,” I whispered back.
I saw a muscle in his jaw tick and he nodded. Fynn had changed a bit over the past seven years. He was still tall, but his lanky frame had filled out. His grey eyes held a sadness that hadn’t been there before. I could see the outlines of some of his bones and that scared me. I always remembered him as being strong and healthy looking.
The minister cleared his throat, jerking me out of my reverie. “Into thy hands we commend thy servant Sonata, a sheep of thine own flock, a lamb of thine own fold, a sinner of thine own redeeming. Amen.”
As we walked out of the church to go stand by the gravesite at the far side of the cemetery, Fynn took me aside.
“Aria, it’s great to see you. I’ve missed you.” He looked sincere and my gut twisted with guilt. I hadn’t talked to him since he told me our parents had died in my freshman year of college.
“It’s great to see you too, Fynn.” I struggled to think of something else to say.
We shared a rather awkward hug.
“I’m glad that you could make it. I didn’t think you would come.”
“Thanks. I almost didn’t. I am supposed to be working on my thesis.” I would not lie and say I was glad to be here. I never wanted to be anywhere within a fifty-mile radius of Sonata.
“All the same, it’s great to see you.”
We stood awkwardly until we realized that everyone was waiting for us. I could feel their eyes on me and it was slightly unnerving.
I drove to Fynn’s house after the burial. He lived on a rambling estate, in a mansion with huge bay windows, set back from the road. It was nothing like the house we grew up in. I realized that I did not even know what Fynn did these days. Whatever it was, it paid well.
The door had been left open for mourners to come and go as they pleased. I was awestruck by the extravagance as I entered his foyer. There was crystal, gold and dark wood everywhere. The place looked slightly less extravagant than Versailles. There were waiters carrying trays of champagne and canapés. Seeing the champagne made me cringe.
I found Fynn talking to a tall young man whose broad shoulders tapered to a lean waist. He wore Ralph Lauren black trousers. From the back, the man’s dark brown curls were slightly longer than the current fashion. I immediately had the sense that he was powerful.
“I know,” Fynn was saying as I neared. “We should have told you that Sonata had an identical twin. But I didn’t expect her either. I thought she wouldn’t arrive until tomorrow. It was awkward what she said.”
For a moment I froze. Lord. I probably wasn’t supposed to hear that. I hesitated for just a second until my eyes narrowed,
“Fynn,” I said. “Are you talking about me?”
Fynn looked slightly abashed. “May…uh…er—”
“Yes,” said the man beside Fynn. “We were talking of you.”
I looked the stranger in the eye. His eyes were a strange mixture of brown and grey. I believed he was expecting me to flinch, but I knew better. To hide my shaking hands, I clasped them behind my back. I wouldn’t be undone by him.
“Well, I think it’s safe to assume that it was not good things that were being said about me,” I said.
“No indeed” the man said. “But there is an explanation.”
“Really? I would be happy to hear it.”
“Actually, I believe the explanation lies in your corner.” His eyes raked me over from head to toe. My skin felt like it would like to crawl right back to England.
“I do not have to explain myself to a complete stranger, nor do I have any wish to.” I would not defend my existence to this ass-hat.
“I have a right to know why someone would be so crass as to come late to my girlfriend’s funeral, and then refuse to speak.” The man squared his shoulders, and then looked away.
I wanted to laugh. “Why would you think I have anything, nice or otherwise, to say about Sonata?”
“Because you are an exact replica of her!”
The laughter died in my throat. A replica? Was he serious? Who was this guy?
Fynn, who noted the high color in my cheeks, spoke up. “Aria, why don’t I show you to your room?”
It was my turn to raise an eyebrow. “I’m staying here?” I said it slowly, trying to grasp the meaning of this. I had not been under the same roof with Fynn in years and he assumed that I would stay with him.
“Yes, I think that would the wisest choice, don’t you?”
I got his meaning instantly. He wanted me to stay so that we could talk. Apparently there was more to Sonata’s death than I knew.
“Sure, I would love to stay here.”
As we walked up the stairs, the entire room froze. Everyone and everything in it stopped moving. People stopped in midsentence, in mid-action. Only I was still able to move. I had never experienced this before—someone was freezing time around me! I let out a yelp of surprise and fear. Acting on instinct I dropped to the stairs and placed my hands over my head, expecting an attack that never came.
“Sonata Andrews, back in the flesh.” A derisive voice sounded behind me.
I jumped at the hostility, and turning slowly I beheld a young woman about my age. She was tall and had a willowy build. Her long curly black hair streaked with color hung to her waist in a riot. Her skin was pale and her eyes were a brilliant amber. She was the woman I had spotted in the church earlier.
“You are incorrect,” I said. “I’m Aria. She was my twin.” My eyes kept searching the room. Panic was settling in under the surface of my skin. I tried to keep a cool mask on my face so as not to display how totally weird this all felt—a place and its people frozen in time.
“I don’t believe you.”
“Believe whatever makes you happy.” My voice had no trace of panic, thank God.
“You should,” her voice held a promise of some sort.
“I should what?” I countered, feeling as if she was continuing a conversation that she had started with someone else, perhaps Sonata.
The woman stared at me, her eyes seeing things that only she could comprehend. Most unsettling was the feeling that she was not something I could understand. The ability to manipulate time was foreign to me. I had not ever thought about its existence. That is what most unnerved me.
“What are you?” I asked.
“I’m a witch,” she acknowledged. “What are you?”
“I don’t know,” I said in all honesty. Mom and Dad never explained to me how I was able to do the things that I can do. If they knew, they never said. They kept that information to themselves.
The woman appraised me. “You say that you are Aria Andrews?”
I sighed, “Yes, that is what I said.”
“Sonata knew what she was—a witch. She had figured it out a few years ago.”
“Bully for her.”
“That is not the answer I was expecting.”
“How come you have no idea but your sister knew?” She asked.
“Perhaps because I have not spoken to her in years.”
“I don’t know.” Exasperated, I wanted her to be gone. For her to just disappear and let Fynn show me to my room.
Then she broke the spell and everyone began talking once again. The sudden noise nearly deafened me. I looked around as I saw that conversations were continuing as if the last few minutes hadn’t happened. Stunned I tried to catch up to what had just transpired. It was so unreal…
“You okay, Aria?” Fynn asked.
“Yeah,” I resumed walking up the stairs. “I think.” Still shaken, I was unwilling to divulge what had just happened. The woman had melted back into the crowd.
Fynn nodded and I knew that we would talk about it. We entered one of the suites. I was not surprised, given the grandeur of the rest of the house, to see a walk-in closet, a full bath; there was a small sitting area and a large four-poster bed. Soft colors were mixed with bold accents. It was decorated exactly how I imagined a room of mine would look like if I had the choice. There were pinks mixed with browns and purples and random bold blues. It was beautiful.
Fynn eyed me with a grin. “I thought you would like this.”
“Indeed,” I told him. I wondered if he designed this room for me, but I was afraid to ask.
“I had this room made up for you when I built the place,” Fynn confessed, answering my unasked question. “I wanted to make sure that there would be a space for you if you ever wanted to…” He trailed off and stared uncomfortably at the floor. He probably thought I wouldn’t believe him.
“I’m truly touched,” I said, and I meant it. “Wait, you built this?”
“I bought the land, designed the house and hired a contractor to do the actual building. And of course Sonata was furious when she found out about the room. I tried to cover it up by saying it could be a guest room, but she saw right through it. She tried to burn it.”
“I am glad it survived.” I didn’t tell him I wasn’t staying long. Not right now. I wanted to make sure everything was in order first.
“Look, I wanted to apologize for the things you overheard. Archer is just…well. I don’t really know how to describe him.”
“Was he really in a relationship with Sonata?” The idea of her being steady with anyone seemed laughable.
“Yes, she was sweet and kind with him. The way she always was with men that she wanted something from, or to anger their women.”
“Still pulling the wool over their eyes?”
“Of course. Herding sheep was her favorite pastime,” Fynn said with obvious disgust. I thought of Sonata’s friend, Morgana, who had turned him into the untrustworthy person I left behind.
“What happened to Sonata?”
“I honestly don’t know. The police have been pretty tight lipped about it. I do know that her death was no accident…the police are investigating it as a homicide. I think Sonata was murdered. I think you’d better get ready to be questioned.”
Aria is going home, but she really doesn’t want to. Heading home for her twin sisters funeral and is regretting the decision. Its been seven years since she left home and left her family behind. An accident that almost killed her, Aria has been happy since leaving. Now coming home and finding out not only was her twin murdered but the way it happened. Aria can not leave until she knows who is behind it all.
Crestfall is a great book that I thoroughly enjoyed. The characters are a little light and the story at times jumps and drags, but all in all a fun read. The author came up with a great mystery that I didn’t figure out until almost the very end. This is a five fangs book from me!
Reviewer for Paranormal Romance and Authors That Rock!
About the Author:
Lily St. John McKee was born November 24, 1987, in Washington, D.C. Finding refuge in books from childhood challenges, she graduated cum laude from Ohio’s Muskingum University in 2011 and earned a master’s degree at Bath Spa University in England. She traveled widely—to Costa Rica, Iceland, Patagonia, Egypt, and Newfoundland, the setting for her novel Crestfall, which she finished in the autumn of 2014.
In the winter Lily McKee fell ill and passed away on March 19, 2015.
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Melted and Whipped
Genre: BDSM, Contemporary, Erotic Romance
Publisher: ARe Books
Date of Publication: December 1, 2015
Word Count: 28,000
Cover Artist: Erin Dameron-Hill
She’ll need more than a safe word to survive Porter Loughton.
Too broke to fly home for the holidays, ski instructor Emily is stuck on the slopes, giving lessons to the rich and the privileged. She doesn’t expect to see Porter Loughton, a former friend who broke her heart in college, ten years later and half a continent away. The mesmerizing billionaire suggests dinner, and Emily soon discovers how it feels to be bent across his knee, to be dominated by him. Their chemistry is hotter than in her dirtiest fantasies.
Emily knows it would be foolish to let him get too close after what happened before. She’s broke, her career nonexistent. The last thing she needs is to be in love with a man who doesn’t feel the same way. But when she receives distressing news, Porter is there to soothe her, and he won’t leave her side. Soon she has no control over her feelings.
I’m so stunned that I don’t even realize what’s happening at first, but then Porter’s tongue traces the closed seam of my mouth.
My lips soften, opening to him.
In response, his large palms cup my face even tighter, and his body rocks a little, inching closer.
A moan of longing rises in my throat. Embarrassed, I try to pull away.
Porter releases me. “Are you okay?”
All I can do is nod.
“Good.” He steps in close. His warm breath caresses my lips. “Because I’ve been thinking about doing this ever since…” He shakes his head and the next thing I know, his tongue is sliding over mine.
He tastes like the wine. Strong. Powerful. I’ll never be able to drink red wine again without remembering this, without getting turned on.
Because I am turned on. Pulsing heat throbs in my core, and I feel my pussy getting slick with desire.
I’m about to reach for him, to finally feel his perfect body under my fingertips, when he breaks our kiss.
Eyes closed like he’s savoring the moment, he continues to hold my face, then brushes his lips over mine, which are throbbing like the rest of my body. They feel swollen, lightly bruised.
“I think dinner is ready.” His voice is husky and raw.
Dinner is the last thing on my mind, but I think it would be rude to suggest we skip it in favor of doing more of the kissing thing.
When he releases me and turns his attention to the pan on the stove, I flee to my glass of wine. I don’t bother with the polite dance of asking if I can have more; it’s not like he’s going to say no.
I fill my glass and take a long swallow. Heaven help me—the wine tastes like his kiss.
“Can you carry these?” He slides two plates, two red cloth napkins, and two sets of silverware onto the counter. “It’ll save me a trip. This way.”
I follow him out the open side of the kitchen, toward the window. We enter a dining room with a table long enough to comfortably seat the entire U.S. Olympic alpine ski team.
A fancy centerpiece of candlesticks surrounded by holly adorns the end closest to us. Porter lays down two red cloth placemats and a trivet, on which he places a glass bowl of stir-fry.
I begin to distribute the place settings while Porter returns to the kitchen. He makes about six trips in all, and even though he tells me to sit, I hover uncomfortably to the side, my mind still buzzing from that kiss. Why did he do it?
The answer seems obvious: because he wanted to.
He’s not the same as he was in college. He’s even more self-assured, which I hadn’t thought was possible. It makes me unsure of myself, like there’s a predetermined amount of confidence that can exist between two people, and Porter has taken it all.
I learned a lot about men through my twenties, and while a big part of me only wants to know what Porter is like in bed, another part of me already knows I’ll be disappointed with just a one-night fling.
After all these years, it’s possible that the fantasy is better than the reality could ever be. I never thought of it in these terms before, but Porter is the perfect man in my memory, an unattainable ideal that no one could possibly live up to. What if he’s bad in bed? What if he’s a selfish lover?
Worse, what if he’s amazing, but then he disappears? He’s successful, rich, powerful. It’s insane to think his interest in me is anything more but casual. Really, with so many tourists in town with their families, and so many of the transplanted locals out of town, it’s not like there’s much choice for a man looking for fun between the sheets.
The wine isn’t helping me sort through my jumbled thoughts. As soon as I reassure myself on one front, the assault starts again from another angle.
If only this weren’t Porter, but some other gorgeous millionaire. No, billionaire. He was already a multimillionaire before college, thanks to the family fortune.
I snort. There aren’t many gorgeous billionaires to be found, and why can’t I enjoy the evening? I wish I weren’t buzzed.
Emily’s life seems to have come to a halt, giving ski lessons to rich kids, worrying about her sister, but longing for more. A man dressed in black with a perfect form catches her eye. She runs into the same sexy man later, he turns out to be the man she fell in love with in college. Porter is a gorgeous, dangerous billionaire who could break her heart again. The chemistry between them heats up quickly, opening a whole new world of dominant sexiness for Emily.
Short story of the beginning of a BDSM relationship that melts the snow off Emily’s heart.
Reviewer for Paranormal Romance and Authors That Rock!
4 out of 5 fangs
About the Author:
If Cleo Peitsche isn’t writing (or reading) erotica, she’s probably sitting on her balcony, watching the wind blow through the trees. She loves horses, snowstorms, and piña coladas. If she won the lottery, she would hire an assistant to take care of the technical side of e-publishing so that she could write all day.
Some random facts about Cleo: 1. Thinks life’s too short to forgo HEAs and HFNs; 2. Sprained an ankle joining the mile-high club. (Never again!); 3. Favorite writers include Cormac McCarthy, Junot Diaz, and Rachel Caine.; 4. Gets weak-kneed for bookish guys who know how to fix things with their hands. *swoons*
For more information on other books by Cleo, visit her website: www.cleopeitsche.wordpress.com
2 winners to receive two eBooks from ARe Books.
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Kiss of the Virgin Queen
Kiss of the Jinni Hunter Series
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Date of Publication: October 14, 2015
ISBN: 978-1-5092-0392-5 Paperback
ISBN: 978-1-5092-0393-2 Digital
Number of pages: 300
Word Count: 75K
Cover Artist: Rae Monet
Homeland Security Special Agent Eliana Solomon is on a mission to prevent terrorist attacks. Hard enough to do when the threats are human, almost impossible when it’s an evil, shape shifting jinni. Eliana needs help so she calls the sexy and beguiling psychiatrist, Arta Shahani. However, no matter how good he is at his job, the man is on her blacklist. On their last case together, the guy left her for dead.
Arta is stunned when he receives Eliana’s call. Forced to abandon the woman he loves, he now fears she won’t accept his shape-shifting skills as a Persian Lion. Eliana, in the meantime discovers she is a direct descendant of King Solomon and the Queen of Sheba with special powers of her own. But will her skill and Arta’s be enough to defeat the jinni, or will they lose the love history decreed for them as well as their lives in this battle of good versus evil?
Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/4ONWBeBZXlw
Bonus and Spotlight Material
Short intro: This full length novel is the second in the enthralling new Jinni Hunter series from award-winning author, Sharon Buchbinder. Edgy and suspenseful, this paranormal romance series explores diverse cultures and an array of supernatural beings. Join the Special Agents of the Anomaly Defense Division as they race to save humanity—and the people they love.
Tagline: No matter how far we are in the future, everything connects us to our past.
Two sentence blurb: Forced to work with sexy and secretive Dr. Arta Shahani, Homeland Security Special Agent Eliana Solomon isn’t sure she can trust him—or her heart. Will Eliana’s skill and Arta’s be enough to defeat the evil jinni—or will they lose the love history decreed for them as well as their lives?
Excerpt: Chapter One
Summertown, West Virginia, U.S.A., Present Day
A picturesque flight over the Appalachian Mountains to Summertown, West Virginia gave Special Agent Eliana Solomon of the Homeland Security, Science and Technology Directorate, Anomaly Defense Division time to process the urgent report she’d received by email. Up until this week, the existence of werewolf packs had been concealed from the general population. Now reports of the secretive shape shifters exploded in her inbox. Where had this information been all this time? Had the government monitored them all along? If so, why had her boss, Bert Blackfeather, insisted on her obtaining proof of their existence, along with the jinnis? She’d pry an answer out of that closed mouth man—someday. Right now, she had a more pressing matter at hand.
Five days ago, three nine-year-old werewolf boys and their three eighteen-year-old sisters went on a birthday expedition in the heavily wooded state wildlife area and disappeared. By day, local human authorities, volunteers, and bloodhounds brought in from surrounding jurisdictions combed the forest, the hills, and caves. By night, pack members ran through the forest using their extraordinary senses—olfactory, visual, and auditory—to hunt for their missing kin. Divers also explored the waterways, all to no avail. No clues to the kids’ whereabouts had been found, not even a backpack—until two this morning.
A night security guard discovered the boys in the middle of the Adalwolf Winery parking lot. Slightly bruised and scratched up, but otherwise alive and well, in their human forms, the youngsters had no recollection of anything between arriving at the park and waking up in the parking lot with their back packs under their heads—their five-day-old lunches untouched.
Rushed to the ER and examined thoroughly, the boys displayed no evidence of physical abuse. The blank space in their minds where the memories should have been was inaccessible to parents and psychologists. If it weren’t for the fact that the three older girls were still missing, the local authorities wouldn’t continue to press the boys for information. Over time, their memories could return, but without ransom notes, calls or clues, the clock was running down for a successful search and rescue. The local police, state troopers, sheriff’s office, and the West Virginia Bureau of Investigation feared the operation would soon become a search and recovery.
The plane touched down, bounced along the runway, and Eliana’s cell began to vibrate.
The gruff voice of her boss boomed in her ear. “New development in the case.” Blackfeather paused. “A hiker found one of the missing girls in a culvert near an abandoned mine. Bites, claw marks. Throat ripped open. Damn thing nearly tore her head off.”
She shuddered. “Black bear?”
“Based on the paw prints around the body, the first responders are saying these weren’t bear bites. More like a dog—or wolf.”
“Boss, aside from zoos and wild animal preserves, there are no wolves in the eastern U.S.”
He sighed. “I stand corrected. Werewolf.”
Her stomach lurched, and she gripped the armrest so hard her knuckles turned white. Shit. Shit. Shit. A werewolf attacking one of its own? Why? What the hell was going on?
“West Virginia Division of Homeland Security has a car waiting for you, fully loaded with everything you’ll need for the investigation. Get to that scene.” Her boss clicked off.
Bossy desk jockey.
A flush of shame rushed over her. He’d taken on the orphan Anomaly Defense Division of the Science and Technology Directorate that no one else wanted, along with a mission no one else supported or believed in. As abrupt and abrasive as he could be, the Gulf War veteran deserved credit for giving her the opportunity to pursue what everyone else thought was something out of the tales of The Arabian Nights: jinnis. With the needed proof of werewolves and jinnis from Project Aladdin, support surged into the division. A stable funding source made her jinni hunting work possible So far, it seemed wherever there were werewolves, there was jinni activity.
This case was no different. According to the report, relationships between the local humans and werewolves were more than cordial. They were so intermarried, almost everyone was family. A large non-denominational wedding facility placed Summertown on an international list of destination weddings, like Hawaii and Las Vegas, but specifically for werewolves. A thriving bed and breakfast trade supported the wedding industry, along with other leisure activities, such as biking, hiking, white-water rafting, and winery and sightseeing tours. Murder of a werewolf girl wasn’t just bad for the family, it was bad for the town.
This book leaves off where Kiss of the silver wolf ends, with special agent Eliana getting a call to go to West Virginia where a group of werewolf kids have gone missing and she believes an evil Jinni may be behind it.
Once on the scene and as more and more evidence points towards Jinnis Eliana is forced to call in the one person she had hoped to never see, the Psychiatrist and Jinni expert Dr. Arta Shahani. He makes her heart race but left her for dead there shared history makes for a tense reunion. Meanwhile Arta has secrets of his own ones he afraid will change everything with Eliana, the woman that holds his heart. As both people remember their childhood and stories are past down realizations click into place perhaps all stories have some truth.
The Jinnis and werewolves have new at war forever but with Eliana’s help the werewolves will be able to keep fighting.
All the while there is a back story of King Solomon and the Queen of Sheba that I absolutely loved and tied in beautifully with the rest of the tale.
I couldn’t put this book down sexy, smart with well-written characters that had me falling in love right along with them.
**** reviewer for paranormal romance and authors that rock
About the Author:
Sharon Buchbinder has been writing fiction since middle school and has the rejection slips to prove it. An RN, she provided health care delivery, became a researcher, association executive, and obtained a PhD in Public Health. When not teaching or writing, she can be found fishing, walking her dogs, or breaking bread and laughing with family and friends in Baltimore, MD and Punta Gorda, FL.
Amazon Author Page http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B001IODIE2
Twitter ID @sbuchbinder https://twitter.com/sbuchbinder
Goodreads author page https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4417344.Sharon_Buchbinder
Link to sign up for Newsletter http://www.sharonbuchbinder.com/contact.html#newsletter
1 Kindle ebook copy of Kiss of the Silver Wolf, Book 1 (Novella)
1Kindle ebook copy Kiss of the Virgin Queen, Book 2, full length novel.
2 Luggage tags
5 sets Romance trading cards (1 for Kiss of the Silver Wolf, 1 for Kiss of the Virgin Queen in cellophane wrapper)
10 Book marks
DIVERGENT BLOODLINE – SYNOPSIS
In the crime-riddled city of her birth, Viviane Taylor slips under the yellow crime scene tape to inspect the victim’s mutilated body. Crime scene techs give her a wide berth as she studies the scene. She’s good at her job, spots clues others miss, and is hardnosed about playing by the rules. The body turns out to be a mob goon from Julian DeMatteo’s outfit. Given the choice of staying on the cold docks or visiting DeMatteo, she opts for DeMatteo.
From the first moment she enters DeMatteo’s plush office he irritates her. His polite manner grates on her nerves. He sidesteps her questions and diverts her attention by goading her into approaching the high-rise window. Although afraid of heights, she refuses to back down. But nausea threatens to overcome her until his arm wraps around her waist to support her. An instant connection rips through her body.
He promises to answer her questions at dinner. Her attraction for the mysterious businessman with the wavy, black hair and toned body distracts her. Although he still avoids her questions, her cop sense tells her that he’s not a suspect. Unable to deny his appeal, they start dating. But growing up in an orphanage makes it difficult for her to trust him. She also wrangles over the ethical implications of seeing an investigative lead.
A snitch informs her partner that the killer will be at the docks. Ignoring backup protocol, they corner the suspect on the roof of a building. Her partner is killed. She unloads several rounds into the suspect, but he is unfazed. His large hands wrap around her throat, choking her. Before she slips into unconsciousness, she swears her attacker has glowing, red eyes.
When she wakes, she can’t remember what happened and only knows her partner is dead. Depression and guilt over his death weigh heavy on her. After the funeral she’s attacked again by the same red-eyed man who admits to killing the victim at the docks and her partner. Although she breaks his nose and almost gets away, he’s too strong and captures her.
Tied to a bed in an abandoned house, a mob boss, claiming to be an immortal vampire, drains her blood and forces her to drink his. She grows sick and weak. He tells her that when she dies, she’ll be reborn a member of his clan. She escapes and drives to Julian’s estate. Julian tells her that he too is immortal and gives her a blood transfusion. Julian’s blood contains healing properties that counteract the foreign elements contaminating her.
When she feels better, she flees his house in confusion but sickness incapacitates her. Julian again infuses her with his blood. Because his original transfusion should have healed her, Julian consults with his mage to determine Viviane’s illness. Over the centuries humans have developed a natural antibody making it difficult for immortals to continue their bloodlines. Yet, the mage discovers that Viviane is pregnant with Julian’s child. The mage insists that Viviane’s child will revive their dying race.
A battle ensues between Julian’s clan and clans who fear that Viviane’s pregnancy is an abomination. Outnumbered, Julian is about to be killed when Viviane arrives. Fear paralyzes her. The mental walls protecting her mind crumble. Although no one else can see him, her father appears. He is a fallen angel with radiant, black wings and encourages her to accept her heritage.
She absorbs the power within her. The energy is overwhelming. She kills her red-eyed attacker, but her anger is uncontrollable. Only Julian’s love keeps her from annihilating the clan members who attacked them. As they re-establish order and prepare for the arrival of their child, she finally accepts her destiny as the divergent catalyst who will save the immortal race.
As King of the Northern Clans, Julian has seen everything, and done everything in his time. But Viviane is a surprise. His beast within, long dormant, springs to life and cause Julian to put his reign into jeopardy. Viviane just wants to solve this murder. Julian is a suspect. But her reaction to him is primal, and leads her into a world she never knew existed.
Its been a while since I had a vampire (although here, they just like to be called Immortals!) book grab me. This one did. I really, really enjoyed it!!
Its dark and deadly, sexy and steamy, long held prophecies come to fruition in a way no one expected. Its bloody and violent, and its hot and passionate! Oh it has a little bit of everything for everyone.
If you like you vampires…ahem…Immortals… dark and broody, and you can see their fall coming at you hard and fast, one for you. If you like your heroines strong and independent, one of you. If you like an Immortal who is strong and will do anything for his mate, one for you.
Really, I thoroughly enjoyed it!! Cant quite stretch to 5 stars but…
The battle is on. Peter Saints thought he’d killed It. But bad people never stay down. Now the jail of his enemy is weakening. Luck is running out for Peter and the girl he saved by wagering the Earth. Only now, with each second and secret revealed, his enemy gains the answers to destroy Peter and devour the world.
I received this book to review not knowing it was the second in the series. Great read though. Very intense and well written. I found it hard to catch on in the beginning but still found it great to read. Fun, suspenseful, unique and full of adventure.
Reviewer for paranormal romance and authors that rock.
LM. Preston was born and raised in Washington, DC. An avid reader, she loved to create poetry and short-stories as a young girl. With a thirst for knowledge she attended college at Bowie State University, and worked in the IT field as a Techie and Educator for over sixteen years. She started writing science fiction under the encouragement of her husband who was a Sci-Fi buff and her four kids. Her first published novel, Explorer X – Alpha was the beginning of her obsessive desire to write and create stories of young people who overcome unbelievable odds. She loves to write while on the porch watching her kids play or when she is traveling, which is another passion that encouraged her writing.
A Late Night Bang by Douglas Esper
Drago by EJ Fechenda
Madison’s Mobster by Ginger Ring
Code of Silence by JL Drake
Infringe by JL Beck
Calabrese by Elle Raven
Gian by Lisa Cardiff
Vincenzo by Marita Hansen
One Shot by Mia Hoddell
Fatal Attraction by Sara Schoen
For Cesare by Soraya Naomi
Kinks in the Road Home
Genre: Gay, Menage, BDSM
Publisher: ARe Books
Date of Publication: December 1, 2015
Word Count: 37,500
Cover Artist: Erin Dameron-Hill
Though there be kinks, the road still leads to home.
Three years ago, Paul found Cameron beaten and clinging to life in a NYC alley. Determined to protect the man he loves, they move to a remote mountain retreat. Though Cam’s physical wounds have mostly healed, the past still has an emotional hold on them, preventing Paul the Dom and his slave from finding the third person they dream of to complete their family.
When Cam meets Matt, thoughts of a third person in his relationship with Paul resurface. His master isn’t pleased with Cam’s attraction to the other man, but the fact they’re talking about a third again is a sign they’re both ready to put the past behind them. The only thing left to do is see if Matt is the one.
Rejected by his family, Matt works at Bound to put himself through culinary school and make a life for himself. Intrigued by Cam and the life he leads as a sexual slave, Matt agrees to become their cook and housekeeper, while deep down he wants more.
Is there room in Paul’s heart for another slave?
Holy fuck! Matt fought to keep the truck’s speed under control as he drove away from Cam’s workshop, but there was no controlling his heart rate. What the fuck had Roger thought, sending him there?
From the moment he’d laid eyes on Cam, he’d wanted him. Then fuck, he’d learned about the man’s lifestyle, seen the garden where he submitted to his Master, and lust had turned to envy. He’d give anything to be in Cam’s shoes. He hoped to God the man called him to model sometime. Despite coveting his lifestyle, Matt really did feel a connection with the artist, and if he wasn’t mistaken, Cam had been attracted to him, too.
But he was a slave to another. Not that Matt wanted to be anyone’s Master. He didn’t have it in him to be dominant. Perhaps if he did he would have stood up to his dad all those years ago and told him what he thought of a man who would disown his own flesh and blood because of their sexual orientation. He hadn’t known he was submissive then, but looking back he saw the signs. When his father had held the door open and ordered him out, he hadn’t argued, hadn’t stood up for himself. He’d left with nothing but the clothes on his back. Thanks to Roger, Matt had done well for himself, but the sound of a door slamming still took him back to that day, reminding him of the terrified young man he’d been. After days of sleeping on the streets, turning tricks for enough money to eat, he’d met a guy who, after paying him for a fuck in the backseat of his Mercedes, had pointed Matt in the direction of a club where he said he might find work.
He found much more than work. He’d found salvation and acceptance his own family had denied him from a stranger named Roger. The club owner had wanted nothing from him except an honest day’s work. In return, he’d given Matt his life back. After several months of cleaning the club during the daylight hours, he’d allowed Matt to observe the workings of the club at night. He’d gradually worked his way up to a Monitor position which paid well enough for him to enroll in culinary school during the day.
Roger still joked about how little sleep Matt existed on during that time. Between classes, his job at Bound, and studying, he’d been lucky to get a nap in, much less a full night’s sleep.
Those days were behind him. He had a decent job and a fair amount of free time to help Roger out. If he lived to be one hundred, he’d never be able to repay the man for what he’d done for him, but that didn’t make him any less angry for having had his dream life dangled in front of his face like a carrot on a stick. There, but so far out of his reach, he’d never have it.
Fuck you, Roger.
Matt backed the truck up to the loading dock behind ReBound. It was time to have a talk with his friend and mentor.
Even though this is a novella I don’t feel as if the author left anything out. There’s love, hot hot hot M/M sex and characters that mesh and have interesting back stories. I love Dom/Sub stories and this author struck a perfect balance between love and control.
Independent reviewer for Paranormal Romance & Authors That Rock. 5 stars.
About the Author:
USA Today Best-Selling author Roz Lee is the author of twenty erotic romances. The first, The Lust Boat, was born of an idea acquired while on a Caribbean cruise with her family and soon blossomed into a five book series published by Red Sage. Following her love of baseball, she turned her attention to sexy athletes in tight pants, writing the critically acclaimed Mustangs Baseball series.
Roz has been married to her best friend, and high school sweetheart, for over three decades. Roz and her husband have two grown daughters (and a new son-in-law) they couldn’t be more proud of.
Even though Roz has lived on both coasts, her heart lies in between, in Texas. A Texan by birth, she can trace her family back to the Republic of Texas. With roots that deep, she says, “You can’t ever really leave.”
When Roz isn’t writing, she’s reading, or traipsing around the country on one adventure or another. No trip is too small, no tourist trap too cheesy, and no road unworthy of travel.
For more information on other books by Roz, visit her website: http://www.rozlee.net.
2 winners to receive two eBooks from ARe Books.
Genre: Gay, BDSM, Contemporary
Publisher: ARe Books
Date of Publication: December 1, 2015
Word Count: 18,900
Cover Artist: Erin Dameron-Hill
Will Finn and Jared recapture what they lost in time for Christmas?
Finnegan Gables moved away six years ago, leaving behind his friends, the city he grew up in, and his lover, Jared McNaughtly. They weren’t ready for a commitment then, but now Finn’s back and hoping to rekindle their Dom and sub relationship…if he can find Jared, that is.
Jared’s not had an easy time of it since Finn left. His one attempt at staying in the lifestyle resulted in a stalker, forcing him to change all his contact information and move to a new apartment. He’s disillusioned enough to have left the lifestyle altogether.
A chance crossing of their paths bring them together the week before Christmas. Can they move past their separation and everything that’s happened in the last six years to find a Merry Christmas together?
Finn headed up Bank Street, bypassing the leather club in his search for someplace to have supper. He wasn’t sure he was going to go into the club later. He’d been back in town about six weeks, and while he’d played a little, he just wasn’t feeling it. He knew what the problem was. When he’d been transferred, he’d been hoping to find Jared McNaughtly, his ex and former submissive.
They’d split up nearly six years ago when Finn had moved to Toronto with his job. Neither of them had really been in a place for Jared to come with him, but Finn had to admit, every man he met wound up stacking up unfavorably with the memory of his ex. There was simply something about Jared that was right, that fit, that worked for him like no one else ever had, before or since.
He’d looked Jared up the second day he was back, but the number he had was no longer in service. A search of the online phonebook had turned up exactly nothing. Not that it wasn’t easy to pay to have your information kept off the online phone book, but he’d been hoping hard he’d find it there.
He pushed his fingers deeper into his pockets, cursing himself for believing the meteorologist. No snow and well above zero Celsius had somehow become a growing snowfall that was trying to work itself into a blizzard with frigid winds and below freezing temps.
Welcome home, Finnegan Gables, welcome home.
He glanced at After Stonewall, the LGBTQ bookstore, a staple long before he’d even come out. He remembered they had the neatest window displays, and he was curious to see what they’d done for Christmas this year.
One window was a huge tree, done up in rainbows and sparkles. The light twinkled so fast, it made him dazed. That was awesome. He stood in front of it for a while, enjoying the feeling of being vaguely high on the lights before moving to the window on the other side of the door.
This one had a Christmas angel in it, a beautiful man with high cheekbones and a shock of ebony hair. He was dressed in creamy gauze, with maroon ribbons on his wrists and throat and ankles. He was stunning, and Finn admired him for a long moment.
The angel reminded him of his Jared, and Finn smiled. Then his eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open. The angel didn’t just look like Jared, it was Jared.
“Good lord.” He was surprised enough to say the words out loud.
When they’d parted ways, Jared was making his living as a model, as a living mannequin. Looked like that perfect hard body was still in demand and looking better than ever, at that.
Finn licked his lips, wondering if Jared had noticed him. He wanted to wave. Hell, he wanted to go in and find out when that fine ass clocked off so he could take it to dinner. That sounded like a plan, so he headed inside, hoping to get a chance to talk, to touch. From the other side, he could see the perfect ass, the corseted waist. God.
“You are as stunning as the day I first laid eyes on you, J.”
Finn saw the deep breath Jared took, knew Jared heard him. Good.
“I’m going to find out when you come out of the window this evening. And I’m going to be here, take you out to supper. Boy.”
The warm blush that suffused his former and hopefully soon-to-be-again lover suited him to the core. It looked like Jared still had feelings for him. Or at least was still attracted. Finn could work with that.
“If you weren’t working, I’d smack that sweet ass of yours—give you a proper hello.”
Jared needed a pink ass, deserved it. And it would peek so enticingly from beneath all that gauze he wore in the window.
Finn smiled as he approached the cash area. He got a quick grin and a nod from the clerk behind the register.
“Hey there. How goes it?”
“Hi. I’m meeting Jared for supper. Could you remind me what time he comes out of the window this evening, please?” Finn asked.
“He’s almost done. He can only stand for about an hour at a time. That pose is vicious.”
“Oh, in that case, I’ll just wait. Thank you very much.”
His gaze returned to Jared. Vicious, maybe, but stunning for sure. And the Jared he knew had been on the way to being a powerful sub. It didn’t surprise him at all to hear that Jared was holding demanding positions for an hour or so.
All he could hope was that he still had a shot to reconnect. If Jared was already taken, it would be a damn shame. Oh, not for Jared, Finn would be happy for the man, but they’d been on their way to having something special. He’d never found that with anyone else.
A short M/M romance about what everyone who’s alone at Christmas wants, love.
When Finn moves back home after 6 years he wants to find his ex-lover Jared.
Jared has had to hide because of a stalker and a chance encounter throws the ex – lovers together. Can Jared forgive Finn and find happiness with Finn again?
Kinky, sexy and even though it’s short I don’t feel like anything was lost along the way.
Independent reviewer for Paranormal Romance & Authors That Rock. 5 fangs.
About the Author:
Sean Michael, often referred to as “Space Cowboy” and “Gangsta of Love” while still striving for the moniker of “Maurice,” spends his days surfing, smutting, organizing his immense gourd collection and fantasizing about one day retiring on a small secluded island peopled entirely by horseshoe crabs. While collecting vast amounts of vintage gay pulp novels and mood rings, Sean whiles away the hours between dropping the f-bomb and pursuing the Kama Sutra by channeling the long lost spirit of John Wayne and singing along with the soundtrack to “Chicago.”
A long-time writer of complicated haiku, currently Sean is attempting to learn the advanced arts of plate spinning and soap carving sex toys.
Barring any of that? He’ll stick with writing his stories, thanks, and rubbing pretty bodies together to see if they spark.
For more information on other books by Sean, visit his official website: www.SeanMichaelWrites.com
2 winners to receive two eBooks from ARe Books.
Genre: Gay, BDSM, Contemporary
Publisher: ARe Books
Date of Publication: December 1, 2015
Word Count: 32,000
Cover Artist: Erin Dameron-Hill
Seeing him whole, perfect, and on his knees…I desired him.
One look at him told me he was a young man on the verge of ruination, of being an addict and a slave to his passions. He was on Marco’s arm, and was introduced as Marco’s boy. The next time I saw him, he was Marco’s marked and branded property. One moment he was free, the next he was not. He’s flawless, or he used to be. Now he’s just damaged goods. Just another piece of property owned by the Reaper Brotherhood drug cartel.
Chase is just another wasted statistic, or he should’ve been if not for my hasty intervention. I made the worst mistake any up-and-coming monster could’ve made. I wanted him so much that even after he’s no longer perfect, I still wanted to save him from his inevitable doom.
“Take it all, you nasty dog.” Marco’s voice cut through the crowd like a knife.
I stood beside my brother, Keith, a looming silent and scarred shadow while he spoke to the local businessman who ran a few of the neighborhood’s strip joints and to whom we had been supplying for a number of years.
The man’s name escaped me, but I didn’t need to know. I just needed to know whether he was a threat to Keith and the business. Keith was the brains of our operation, and I was just the muscle. Our arrangement worked just fine, like clockwork.
“Shut up and suck, hole.”
Finally, I spared a glance to where Marco, his men, and a group of men and women were standing at the corner of the room. With my attention on them, I could finally make out the whimpers and pleas coming from the naked young man causing all the commotion.
Marco was one of the Brotherhood’s best dealers, but I never liked him. Sloppy as hell, Marco treated everyone like shit, especially the cocks and pussies belonging to the Brotherhood. This one was no exception. On his knees, the young man struggled to suck Marco’s cock while Marco jerked the leash connected to the collar on the man’s neck.
Meanwhile, one of Marco’s men hit the young man with a flogger from behind They made one hell of a noise despite the loud music spilling through the room. Shit. A commotion had been the last thing we needed, especially with the rumors I’d been hearing about cops mysteriously getting tipped off about some of our dealers.
“Kade, could you remind Marco to keep it down?” Keith asked, clearly annoyed.
Taking a long pull of my beer, I sighed and ambled over to Marco. I shook my head when some of my men looked my way. This was my problem to handle.
“Why, if it isn’t Kade? Care to join us, big man?” Marco asked as the crowd parted for me. He took his cock out from the boy’s mouth while his associate stopped the whipping. Marco kept the leash wrapped around his arm, though.
Given my bulk and size, it hadn’t been hard to push through the crowd. Most knew me on sight as Keith’s head enforcer.
It took me a second to place the protesting and sweat-slicked boy Marco had been rutting. I remembered Chase because of his ridiculous name. Wondered what kind of mother would name her kid that. This time, there was no smirk on his young face. No teasing.
Just a thick leather dog collar on his neck with a little silver tag I had a feeling bore Marco’s name. The sounds coming out of his young, cum-covered mouth hadn’t been sounds of pleasure. Chase hoarsely pleaded, cried, and whimpered like a dog being beaten to death.
The last time I’d seen him had been a month ago. It only took thirty days for Marco to break him down from a human being to an object.
“Keith wants you to keep the noise down. He has important guests to attend to,” I said coldly. Something darted to my leg.
Chase. He’d somehow managed to pry his leash from Marco’s arm, and it now dangled to the ground. Big blue eyes too lucid for my taste looked up at me pleadingly from beneath long lashes. They’re supposed to be drug-filled eyes, the eyes of someone far too gone to notice reality. His hands clutched tightly at my left leg with surprising strength.
“Please. Please make them stop.”
Kade Michaels is a enforcer for his brother’s gang The Reaper Brotherhood. They deal a drug called Rapture among other things. Kade is a bad ass and also a dom.
Chase is a barely legal boy who gets tangled up with one of the gangs best dealers, Marco. Kade hates Marco and once he sees Chase he decodes he wants him even though Chase is Marco’s “property”. Once Kade gets Chase, he has to get him off Rapture, then he has to train him to be his sub.
This is a perfect read for a lunch break or a nice hot soak in the tub. If you’re into M/M romance then this is definitely a book for you.
Independent reviewer for Paranormal Romance & Authors That Rock. 5 fangs
About the Author:
Angelique Voisen is a bisexual, twenty-something, type-2 diabetic and multi-pubbed writer who favors LGBT and menage pairings. She likes experimenting with different sub-genres and her stories may include cogs, fangs, space battles, kinky magic systems and happily-ever-afters. When Angel’s not writing, she’s gaming, watching B-rate action movies, or enjoying teatime with friends while enviously eyeing their cake.
For more information on other books by Angelique, visit her website: www.angelvoisen.blogspot.com
2 winners to receive two eBooks from ARe Books.
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