It’s giveaway time!!! We’re in October, do you know what that means? It means Halloween and horror LOL.
How does it work?
It’s quite easy. Every month, I’m running a giveaway of books published in previous years during the current month, and to make it easy on everyone, I’ve set up a Kingsumo giveaway. You enter your email address, you’re not subscribing to anything by doing so, but make sure to sign up with an address you check regularly since it’s on that I’ll contact you should you win.
To enter hop on over here!
We have four books this month. Three years in a row, Amy Spector and I gave out a horror double feature in October, so we have Deadly Sugar followed by Deadly Lies. The third year, I wrote The Snowflake, which is one of my favourite stories, but it’s quite bloody. And last but not least we have Soul Eater, which isn’t horror; it’s paranormal romance. Ghost Dater, which will be released on the 13th, is with the characters from Soul Eater.
Deadly Sugar and Deadly Lies are about Jett and Josh. In the first book, their relationship is on rocky grounds, and Jett buys a house outside of the city and moved without Josh. The next-door neighbour keeps men in his root cellar, an unusual hobby, but Jett figures it out. The second book builds from there.
The Snowflake is about my favourite ice sculptor. He’s insane, no question about it. But even disturbed people can fall in love, and Theophile is in love. To prove the depth, he’s gonna make the most breathtaking sculpture ever made, and he does… too bad people have to die to make it work LOL
And Soul Eater is the first story in Rockshade’s PID series, I have yet to write the third and last story, but I will. It’s about Thaddeus who is a wizard and police. While trying to solve a case, he accidentally brings a werewolf back to life. Or not to life, he summons the ghost of a werewolf, and he just happens to be that werewolf’s mate. There is a lot going on and it all happens on Halloween when the veil between the living and the dead is at its thinnest.
Jett felt more alive than he had in a long time. His kitchen smelled of chocolate and vanilla, and the sticky cake looked perfect. Not even the white blob of whipped cream that fell to the floor when he lifted the whisk out of the bowl too quickly could dampen his mood.
He put on his shoes, not wanting to wait another minute before he handed over this magnificent chocolaty creation to his neighbour. It would make any man melt, and he felt giddy at the thought of trying it on the thin, brown-haired man next door.
Cake in one hand, the bowl of whipped cream in the other, he was ready to go. Slowly, he made his way around the cardboard boxes to the front door. As he tried to open it with his elbow, the tune of Def Leppard’s ‘Pour Some Sugar on Me’ cut through the air. Jett froze. He was dying to hear Josh’s voice, had been longing for it all day, for several days, but he needed to put some distance between them. The ache in his chest was overwhelming; he didn’t think he’d ever been this lonely in his entire life. He put the cake down on top of one of the moving boxes and took his phone from the pocket of his jeans. The butterflies in his stomach wouldn’t stop fluttering around, even though he tried to tell them it was over. Unless Josh changed his mind, they would never go back to being an item.
The display was lit, Josh’s name written in stark white over the black screen. Jett let his thumb hover over the green icon, the butterflies urging him on, but he managed to put the phone down without answering. He reached for the cake and hurried out the door. That didn’t stop him from hearing the phone start to ring again as soon as it had quieted. What’s making Josh so eager now?
The knot that had replaced the butterflies in his stomach made it hard to smile as he neared the neighbouring house. So typical of Josh. Jett had managed to forget about him for a few hours, had been excited about baking for the neighbour, and now all he wanted was to run back and fetch his phone so he could talk to his partner. His former partner, he reminded himself.
He tried to shut down his brain as he gazed up at the house. In the dark it almost looked like his, the white façade spooky in the moonlight, but still hauntingly beautiful. He shivered. He was being silly; this was the kind of house he’d always wanted. The fact that it was dark outside didn’t change that. It would’ve been better if Josh had wanted it too, but he hadn’t, and now here Jett was—in front of another man’s house.
With a deep breath, he raised his hand to knock on the door, but then he hesitated. Not a single lamp was lit. Maybe he wasn’t home. Jett listened. The wind rustled in the trees, and he thought he heard a soft clinking noise from the garden. Maybe he’s out working on something. Jett had seen some kind of garage on the side of the house, maybe it was a workshop of some kind.
He started to walk around the house. An owl hooted in the dark, making Jett flinch. He hesitated. He’d never been afraid of the dark, not really, but it was very dark. Raising his head and squaring his shoulders, he started walking, the gravel crunching beneath his feet. It’s just a few metres in the dark.
“Where are you going?”
Startled by the harsh voice, Jett whirled around and almost dropped the bowl of whipped cream. “Oh, erm…I thought you were in the garage. Thought I heard a sound.”
“As you can see, I’m not.” The neighbour stood inside looking at him, the door opened just a crack.
Jett tried to read his facial expression, but all he could see was the eyes glinting in the dark. “I brought cake this time.” He raised the plate and smiled.
The silence went on for a little too long before the man opened the door some more. “How lovely, why don’t you come in?”
“Are you sure?” Jett suddenly didn’t feel certain about going inside, cold washed over him as he waited for the man to answer.
“Of course, do come in. My name is David, by the way.”
Jett walked inside, carrying the cake as a shield. “Nice to meet you David. I hope you like chocolate.”
Silence filled the barn, making its walls belly out from the pressure of it.
“Still playing with ice?”
The chainsaw grew heavier in his hands. Theo searched for something to say, but, as usual, no words came to mind. “Sculpting.”
Dad snorted. “Still trying to be an artist?”
“I am one.” And soon, when he’d figured out what his next piece would be, his dad along with the rest of the world would be awestruck by his talent, his innovation, his…another good word that would make the masses bow in reverence.
“Theophile.” He tsked and shook his head. “The world has enough of queer artists trying to milk the stereotype. Grow up and get yourself a real job. You don’t have the grace to play the role.”
Theo couldn’t say what was happening. His mind clouded with black smoke, a roar sounded in his head, and in the next second, he pressed in the two start buttons on his chainsaw.
Blood splattered over the swan as the blade cut into his dad’s skin and continued through muscle and sinew. There was a small kickback as the nose of the blade severed the spine, but Theo gained control of the saw at the same time as the head thudded against the ground
The body collapsed, blood sprayed in pulses, turning the wood shavings almost black. Theo stared for a moment, unable to take it all in.
He’d beheaded his father.
For some reason, he’d always assumed death would be quieter, more…unique.
“Do you think the customer will appreciate the dye?” Cat tilted his head to the side as he watched the sculpture.
The ice was melting, no faster than it should, but talking to Dad had given it a few extra seconds. The blood glimmered like rubies around the swan’s neck and down its chest. “I think it’ll melt away.” Sadly.
Would it be more morally appropriate to bring out the other ice block and start over? But if they didn’t know the swan had been baptised in blood, did it matter?
Cat shrugged the way cats sometimes do and left the barn. Theo followed him with his gaze and then continued to look out through the open door after he’d disappeared from sight.
Filling his lungs with air, he looked down at his father’s head. He came across as so much nicer when he was quiet.
Sandulf Hunter howled. Indescribable pain had stolen his mind and a terrible realization of no longer being sane haunted his heart. Fire licked at every part of the body he no longer had. Fear mixed with hope of this being the end made him scream.
Little by little, a world formed around him. He didn’t know how long he’d been trapped in the darkness, fighting to get out, but now he could see.
It was night, and there were candles…
Memories threatened to drown him, and he snarled. Standing, he shifted into his human form. The wizard had forced him into his wolf form and had kept him there no matter how much he’d struggled to shift back.
A whimper had him whirling around. There, by one of the candles, was a man. He had his back to Sandy, swaying where he stood. Sandy didn’t recognize him, but it didn’t matter. All wizards needed to die.
His teeth grew, claws formed at his fingertips, and he relished having the power to change at will again. He leaped, ready to snap the man’s slender neck.
Right as he was about to make contact, the man turned. His chestnut hair falling into his eyes, his face contorted in pain.
Sandy didn’t care. He opened his mouth to tear out the man’s larynx and placed his clawed hands on his shoulders, only to fall through. The impact never came, and one confusing second later, he was sinking his teeth into thin air.
The man fell to his knees, screaming.
Had he bitten him? There was no taste of blood. He pulled in a breath, trying to scent blood—there was no blood, no fresh blood at least. Those candles smelled disgusting.
He scented the man again—divine. No!
The world spun around him. Clouds twirled on the night sky. His blood was on fire, but not in a painful way anymore. Instead, he was pulsating with need. He needed the wizard; the wizard was his.
But all wizards must die.
It didn’t matter what he smelled like. It didn’t matter who he was. Sandy pulled in another breath and groaned. His. The murderous little wizard was his. His cock grew hard and his teeth ached with the need to mark him.
The man cradled his head and sobbed.
What the fuck?
The wizard flew to his feet, his mouth agape as he stared at Sandy. He shook his head. “No.” The shaking increased. “No. It’s not true. It’s all a dream.” He looked around as if he hoped he was elsewhere. It had Sandy’s brain short circuiting.
He wanted the wizard dead; he wanted the wizard to never leave his side. He wanted the wizard gone, but he didn’t like it when it looked like he wanted to be elsewhere.
How had they gotten here?
Sandy could have sworn he’d been underground the last time he’d been conscious. Had this wizard stolen him from the other wizard while he’d been out cold? But could he have carried him all the way outdoors?
Sandy must outweigh the man by quite a lot, and while looks could be deceiving, he didn’t look very strong.
Memories of a narrow stair and dark tunnels flashed before his eyes. The wizard was on the small side, Sandy was not. He was big for a shifter. Maybe he’d used some spell to make him lighter…or smaller. He glanced down at himself and frowned at the black T-shirt. Hadn’t he been wearing a shirt, a charcoal dress shirt?
Studying the wizard with narrowed eyes, he tried to remember. He’d been on a date, hadn’t he? But not with the wizard. No, he’d have known if he’d met his mate on a blind date—right, it had been a blind date. Ric had set it up. He couldn’t remember who he was supposed to meet, though.
“Who are you?” Sandy crossed his arms over his chest and glared at the wizard. His mate couldn’t be a wizard.
A quick look around told him they were alone. He couldn’t see anyone and there were no scents other than the repulsive candles. Hadn’t there been another man?
“Thaddeus Ezax.” Thaddeus followed his gaze and looked around the circle too, then he waved his hand and extinguished the candles.
After six years of a relationship going nowhere, Jett Thompson has moved away to start over. Maybe his new neighbour David can help distract him from the ache left by his ex’s absence. To get closer to David, Jett invites himself for a cup of tea, but things don’t go as planned. David is standoffish and secretive, and when Jett asks about the strange noises coming from the back of his garden, he gets no answers.
David’s life is good. He has a whole root cellar full of lovers, and he doesn’t need a nosy neighbour meddling in his business. He doesn’t need a friend, but maybe he can make room for another lover. Jett might make beautiful cakes, but David knows nothing tastes as good as thin feels.
After being betrayed by his husband in the most unimaginable way, Josh Thompson has only three things on his mind; grab his son, find help, and get out. When Josh can’t get to his son, the plan to save them both becomes a little more complicated.
Injured and afraid, Josh doesn’t know where to turn. When he finally gets hold of the police, the bodies he could’ve sworn he saw are gone, and no one believes him. Did he see them? His husband, Jett, tells him he’s been in an accident and is imagining things, but Josh doesn’t trust him. He has to get out of there before it’s too late, but how to get his son away from Jett when he guards their every step?
Nothing inspires art like love.
Theophile Lekas has spent the last seventeen years trying to build a name for himself as an ice sculptor. Ice is his world, but he lives for Dylan Mincer.
But loving from afar isn’t enough, and if Theo wants to win Dylan’s heart, he’ll need to sweep him off his feet. And what better way to do it than with a sculpture that will leave Dylan breathless and the world in no doubt of Theo’s genius?
After an argument leads to murder, Theo is hit with true inspiration. And he has the perfect block to begin his project. For Dylan, Theo will create his masterpiece. And it will be as unique as a snowflake
Great art requires the perfect muse.
Detective Thaddeus Ezax is in over his head. He’s the only wizard in Rockshade’s Paranormal Investigations Department, and it was his name that got him the job. The Ezaxs are known as some of the most powerful wizards in the world, but Thaddeus isn’t your average Ezaxs. Is it any wonder his family shuns him?
When a kidnapping case is dropped into his lap, Thaddeus must act fast. While most five-year-olds can cast a location spell, Thaddeus can’t and is forced to get creative. When he finds himself in possession of a black market werewolf skull with a ghost trapped inside, accidentally releases the spirit, and somehow forms a connection with it, things get even crazier.
Sandulf Hunter doesn’t remember dying, but he remembers the last thing he saw before everything went black — a wizard. All wizards must die! The only problem is, the wizard standing next to him smells too damned good, so good Sandy thinks he might have to keep him.
And since wherever Thaddeus goes, Sandulf finds himself yanked along, he might not have a choice in the matter anyway.