April isn’t only the month when we’re celebrating Easter and my birthday LOL, it’s also the birthday of two of my books – Black Bird and The Lords of Lettuce. And since you can’t read The Lords of Lettuce without having read The Maddest of Men, I’ll throw that in too.
If you’re new to the blog, I’ve had some new followers lately – welcome, I’m so glad you’re here 😀 – you might have missed it, but this year, I’m running a giveaway at the beginning of each month. The giveaway is of those of my books that’s been released in that month previous years.
Since I’m in the middle of giving most of my books new release dates, we might do this again next year LOL.
How does it work?
Last month, I did a kingsumo giveaway, but this month I think I’ll draw a random winner from the comments. What’s your favourite mythical creature? Answer in the comments.
Black Bird is about a man on the run. He’s not on the run from anyone, but he’s a caladrius healer and can’t stay in a city once he’s healed someone in it. The caladrius bird comes from a Roman myth of a snow-white bird being able to heal someone by taking that person’s sickness into itself. We have Arlo, a human caladrius bird who can’t be close to anyone, who runs into a werewolf. The werewolf, Nash, recognises Arlo as his mate and can’t be apart from him. So one who can’t be apart and one who can’t be close.
The Maddest of Men and The Lords of Lettuce is about Grayham who is a living polygraph. He can sense the moment someone is lying. And then we have Creed who is an undercover agent who, of course, lies to Grayham. This takes place in a dystopian future and is pretty bloody at times.
“A large chai latte to go, please.”
Arlo looked up at the man on the other side of the counter, then he looked up some more. He had to be at least six-three, maybe more, and with broader shoulders than could be considered normal. A sizzle skidded over Arlo’s skin, immobilizing him. When he breathed out, a whimper wanted to follow.
There was something wild about the man, something larger than the body could contain. Arlo glanced at the door, wondering about the measurements of it and how he could’ve walked in here without Arlo noticing.
For once Holly went quiet as a mouse.
“Coming right up.” Arlo smiled, winked, and gave himself a mental slap. Winked? He’d winked at the giant. When had he gotten that stupid? Perhaps this would be the one town he’d have to leave because he pissed off the wrong people instead of having sucked someone’s darkness into him—it would be a first.
His hands shook as he prepared the drink, his heart pounding, and heat coursed through his body.
Why on earth had he winked, he wasn’t one to wink at people. He never winked at people. Avoidance was of the utmost importance. The longer he could live in a place without forming any ties to anyone, the longer it took before he filled up on tar.
“Here you go.” He put the paper cup on the counter without looking at the man and gestured for him to put his credit card in the card reader and punch in his code before wiping his sweaty palm on the apron.
“You’re new here?” The deep voice made Arlo tingle, and that was bad. He shouldn’t tingle. A giant, who didn’t look to be of the gentle kind and probably was ten years his senior, shouldn’t have his heart speeding just by asking a question.
He’d have to get another job, preferably in another town. He thought of his cute little red house and sighed.
“Only trying it out.” He glanced at the man whose dark eyes studied him with far too much interest and Arlo bit his lip. The man’s eyes widened a fraction.
“Yeah?” There was a smile in his voice, but Arlo didn’t check to see if there was one on his face as well. Instead, he looked at the screen to make sure the buy went through and when it did, he moved back toward Holly.
“Yep, I think I’ll keep looking.”
The silence stretched, but Arlo resisted the urge to see if the man was still there.
“Then I think I will too.” The husky tone made Arlo’s gaze snap up.
The man had already turned around and was leaving the coffee shop in determined strides. Arlo’s heart thudded in his throat, and he had to stop himself from calling out. Was he leaving already? Yes, he was leaving, and it was good because Arlo didn’t flirt with customers. Arlo didn’t flirt with anyone.
Stepping a little closer to the woman, he tilted the tray ever so slightly. “One more perhaps?” He smiled and tried to be discreet in watching as the inquisitor bent down to whisper something in Hovda’s ear.
“Thank you. Could I get a glass of champagne too?”
Creed gritted his teeth. He was obviously not the champagne guy, and he was about to enlighten her when the inquisitor stepped away from the lounge. A few more steps and he would be right between Creed and the bar. “I’ll see what I can do, ma’am.”
He straightened his back and channelled his inner waiter. With an air of nonchalance, he neared the man. Milky white skin, bright red corkscrew curls Creed wanted to pull only to see them bounce back—an evil man shouldn’t look like that. “May I tempt you with some salmon, sir?” Creed tried for flirty but holy shit that hair was distracting. Could someone so angelic looking be the feared inquisitor?
Deep blue eyes bore into his. “I’m good, thanks.” His voice had a slight rasp to it as if those had been the first words he’d uttered today. Where the shiver travelling up Creed’s back came from, he didn’t know.
“I’m sure you are.” He winked, not knowing if it was the right direction to take but hoping the intent gaze meant interest. “Champagne maybe? I’m heading to the bar to get some for the lady over there.” He nodded towards the woman who stood glaring at him.
The man grunted dismissively and turned to leave. Creeds heart sped up as he realised he was about to lose his chance. A thousand things he could say to grab the man’s attention flitted through his mind, but not one seemed right.
“Hey, Grayham! A word.” A mean-looking man dressed in black jeans and t-shirt walked towards them. Creed tried not to stare, but he was far from the only one who forgot all about manners. In a sea of fancy suits and evening gowns, ratty t-shirts and heavily tattooed arms stood out.
Creed went through every name he could remember from the files as he made his way to the bar. Cipriani, Lou Cipriani, Creed was almost sure of it. The man’s hair was jet black, his eyes glowing green, and he possessed an air of power despite his wiry frame. Creed looked at his right hand, and sure enough, the ring and little finger were missing.
He grabbed two glasses of champagne instead of a tray—if someone noticed he’d sort it later. Glancing over his shoulder to make sure the men were still talking, he zigzagged over to the woman. “Enjoy, ma’am.”
She rolled her eyes but grabbed the glass. “Do you have a death wish?”
“Not particularly, why?” Creed smiled, but his heart hammered. Does she know anything?
“Flirting with Grayham.”
Creed stopped moving. “You know him?”
She snorted and tossed her long brown hair—not a natural brown—over her naked shoulder. “Only Cham knows him.”
Cham? Could she be one of Hovda’s girls? He couldn’t see her working the streets, but prostitution came in many shapes and forms. “Why?” Creed had a pretty good idea why. Who’d want to get friendly with the torturer, right? It surprised him that he hoped the bureau’s information would be faulty.
Grayham, if that was his name, didn’t look anything like he’d imagined a torturer should look. Those full lips should smile soft smiles, and there was nothing scary about bouncy curls. His eyes, though… They didn’t frighten Creed. They didn’t have a crazy shine to them, but they were emotionless, guarded.
The woman shrugged. “People who talk to him disappear.” Huh? Right, why no one knew him. Creed should continue to speak to her, few were as willing to share information, but he could see Cipriani getting ready to leave.
“I’m going to go give him his champagne before he slips away.”
“Mhm.” She downed half the glass in one swallow as Creed left.
He came up next to the two men right before Cipriani started to turn. “Your champagne, sir.” He held the glass out for Grayham to take; he didn’t. Instead, he narrowed his eyes and gave Creed a look intense enough to make him squirm—Creed did not squirm. Okay, he totally squirmed.
“Did you do anything with it?” His voice was still raspy.
“No, of course not.”
For a heartbeat or two Grayham stared at him, then he reached for the glass with his left hand. Creed cursed mentally and tried to push the glass towards his right. Grayham dropped his left and grabbed the glass with his right. “Thank you.”
Perfect. Creed hovered with his hand over Grayham’s wrist waiting for his scanner to gather the information that should be there.
The winner will be announced on the 9th. Leave a comment about what your favourite mythical creature is below to enter the draw!
After seven years of being on the move, Arlo Barman wants nothing more than a place to call home. But unbeknownst to him, Arlo is a caladrius healer, so staying in one place has never been an option. The compulsion to separate himself from those he’s healed is all-consuming and leaves him little choice but to pack up yet again.
Nash Silver is the only werewolf in his small coastal town. Living undetected in a human world is imperative for his kind, and he and his small circle of friends—a vampire and a psychic—have done so for decades. But Nash’s anonymous existence is jeopardized when a man with an enticing scent moves into town. From the moment Nash lays eyes on the stranger, nothing is more important than being close to him. Not even guarding his secret.
Arlo isn’t interested in a relationship or even a date, his past has taught him nothing good comes from it, but the rather pushy local popping up everywhere he goes has his heart somersaulting. If his heart is somersaulting or not doesn’t matter, because when Nash gets injured, Arlo is the only one who can save him.
Having used his powers, Arlo has to leave Nash and the cozy town he wanted to make his home, but can Nash survive being separated from his mate?
Is lying to a living polygraph really a good idea?
To prove his loyalty to Cham Hovda, one of the local drug lords, Grayham is willing to do anything—and he does. He helps Cham run his empire by finding out the truth by any possible means. It’s not as hard as it may seem, all he has to do is ask the right questions, and his internal polygraph will tell him if someone is lying or not. And when they lie—well he deals with that too. Life as an inquisitor can get quite lonely, not that Grayham plans on doing anything about it. It would kill him to have to off a lover.
Creed is a retrieving agent on a mission. He is to infiltrate one of Carona’s drug organisations to get to the inquisitor. Rumour states the man with the fiery red curls has supernatural powers; it also says anyone coming close to him disappears. Creed has no idea how he’s going to make it out alive or why his supervisor sent him in without backup. But, when an opening to work as a waiter at one of the drug lord’s parties presents itself Creed sets to work.
In a world where people compensate for the years of bombings and starvation with clinic bought physical perfection a man with crooked teeth and mismatching eyes stands out. Grayham notices the waiter watching him straight away. If he’s there to harm Cham, he’ll deal with it. Creed knows he must get his hands on the inquisitor so when he is invited to the man’s flat he agrees to come even though he knows it might be the last thing he’ll ever do.
Old tunnels, lurking threats, and a race against time.
Creed wants his happily ever after with Grayham. They’ve faked his death and it should be as simple as that, right? But before his body double has had time to cool, there’s a knock on the door, and it looks like he and Grayham’s troubles are just getting started.
For reasons no one understands, a young boy has come to ask their help. He isn’t a normal boy, he’s a meta, able to see mere moments into the future, and to see how every action alters that future. He knows men are out to get him, he also knows Creed’s friend is in danger.
Grayham does not want to hunt for some wayward agent. He couldn’t care less if the agents of The Bureau of Whatever killed each other off, but then there is this look on Creed’s face, and he knows he’ll do everything he can to make him smile again. Being around Creed has made him soft, and it’s a weakness he can’t afford. But weakness or not, he’ll do anything for Creed.
Together Grayham and Creed set out to find Sal Minotti before it’s too late. They search the city of Carona, but he’s nowhere to be found, sadly that can’t be said about the gang members from the eastern side.