Wednesday 6 November 2024

The Unquiet House by Ellie Thomas

NEW RELEASE 

Book Title: The Unquiet House (Regency Paranormal, Book 2)

Author: Ellie Thomas

Publisher: JMS Books

Cover Artist: in-house with publisher

Release Date: October 26, 2024

Tense/POV: Third person, past tense, single POV

Genres: MM Historical Paranormal

Tropes: Hurt/Comfort, Opposites Attract, Friends to Lovers

Themes: Haunting, ghosts, romantic suspense, peril

Heat Rating: 3 flames    

Length: 17 520 words

It is not a standalone story.

It is book 2 in my Regency Paranormal series. It does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads 

Buy Links

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In Regency England, Sam and Christian come across a ghostly disturbance at a country house. 

Can their combined skills resolve the problem before someone, including themselves, gets seriously hurt?

Blurb

After barely surviving their terrifying encounter with the spectre of the hooded monk during the previous autumn, Christian Maxwell and Sam Gillespie have consolidated their romantic relationship and are starting to gain a reputation for dealing with the unknown.

For this reason, they receive an invitation to Haverford House in Wiltshire during the spring of 1817. The owners of the historic haunted manor house, Mr. and Mrs. Huxley, are being afflicted by a series of inexplicable incidents.

With his sensitivity to atmosphere, Christian is immediately alerted to danger. Yet, despite their best efforts, neither he nor Sam can discern the cause, although their search brings them closer as a couple and as a team. As sinister events develop, can our devoted duo unmask the culprit without putting themselves in danger?

Excerpt

Christian regarded the stolid group of middle-aged people surrounding Sam, the second vicar, with a darker shade to his complexion from the Caribbean sun. Sam had already struck up an animated conversation with the colonel’s lady. His face, shaded by candlelight into fascinating planes and hollows, was alight with interest. Christian was so distracted that he lost the thread of Mrs. Huxley’s discourse.

“You’ve met my husband, of course.” Christian dragged his attention away from Sam to regard his host. “And near to him is Ernest Bell, a distant relative of mine. It’s very good of him to support us in our endeavours since our son Gordon returned to university after the Christmas vacation. Of course, Ernest’s very fond of the place. He was a regular visitor in my Cousin Grenville’s day.”

Christian placed Mr. Bell in his early thirties, somewhat younger than the Huxleys. There was little or no family resemblance to the fair and even-featured Mrs. Huxley. The man was dark haired and had a strong craggy face. He seemed completely at ease, conversing easily as though taking his cue from his hosts.

As the meal commenced, Mrs. Huxley was monopolised by the gentleman on her other side, allowing Christian to absorb the surrounding ambience. The candlelight flattered the diners and the ready supply of wine increased the merry flow of conversation.

The food is excellent, Christian thought, nibbling on a chicken leg. The dishes were removed by a small number of well-trained staff. The Huxleys clearly hadn’t stinted on the domestic sphere of their enterprise.

“Have you come far?”

A gruff male voice broke into Christian’s preoccupations.

“Not at all. Only the other side of the county,” he replied.

“We hail from Suffolk.”

Unprompted, the gentleman leaned over the lady sitting between them and launched into a treatise on the historic sights of that region. Thankfully, he required little in the way of a response. Without having to pay much attention, Christian simply interjected the occasional, “Oh really? How interesting.”

In such congenial surroundings, Christian almost forgot that he and Sam weren’t invited to enjoy the convivial atmosphere.

When the hair rose on the back of Christian’s neck, at first, he assumed it was due to a stray draught, understandable in such an ancient and large space. Rather than easing, the sensation intensified and Christian felt his shoulders tense, as if braced for attack.

He felt a sudden burst of malice like a silent cackle of mocking laughter.

Again, he couldn’t place the source of ill-intent until a footman leaned between Christian and Mrs. Huxley to place a covered salver on the table.

As the servant reached across to lift the lid, Christian hissed, “Don’t!”

His voice was low, but his urgency transmitted to his hostess and the footman, who hesitated in mid-action.

Mrs. Huxley threw a startled glance towards Christian. However, her voice was calm as she said, “Take it away, please, Simon.”

The young server obeyed without question. Mrs. Huxley murmured, “Excuse me.” She accompanied the footman from the room without attracting any attention.

Christian’s collar felt constricting and the candlelight too bright for his strained nerves. He took a sip of wine to steady himself before he glanced around the table.

There was no discernible change in the level of chatter and general merriment. Christian attempted to focus in vain. He could no longer sense the slightest whiff of the ill-feeling that had vanished like a puff of smoke in a strong breeze.

He jumped at the light touch on his shoulder.

“May I borrow you for a moment?” Mrs. Huxley asked.

Christian turned to see that his hostess was pale, her eyes wide with alarm.

“Yes, of course.”

He rose to follow her, unnoticed except by Mr. Huxley, briefly hesitating in mid-comment, and Sam, who quickly looked up before resuming his discourse.

Christian followed the lady into the service region of the house. In a pantry, the silver salver sat alone on a shelf, guarded by the footman.

“I thought you ought to see this for yourself.”

Mrs. Huxley nodded to the footman, who lifted the lid without ceremony. Instead of the expected delicacy, on the gleaming silver platter lay a dead rat with a candied cherry in its mouth.

About the Author  

Ellie Thomas lives by the sea. She comes from a teaching background and goes for long seaside walks where she daydreams about history. She is a voracious reader, especially about anything historical. She mainly writes historical gay romance.

Ellie also writes historical erotic romance as L. E. Thomas.

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Saturday 2 November 2024

The Dragon King's Assassin by Amy Sumida

BOOK BLAST

Book Title: The Dragon King's Assassin

Author: Amy Sumida

Publisher: Imaginary Worlds INC

Cover Artist: Amy Sumida

Release Date: June 24, 2022

Genres: MM Fantasy, Paranormal, Shifters

Tropes: Enemies to lovers

Themes: Fated mates

Heat Rating:  4 flames

Length: 349 pages

It's the first book in The Dragons of Serai Series. Each book features a new couple. 

 It does not end on a cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Buy Links - Available in Kindle Unlimited

Universal Link

My life changed the day I tried to take his.

Blurb 

Mhavenna is a glorious city but, like every city on the face of Serai, it's run by Dragons. As a human, I'm on the lowest rung of the racial ladder here, as far from an illustrious Dragon as I could be, and I've made my peace with that. I don't like Dragons much, but like or dislike has nothing to do with my work. So when my broker offered me the task of killing the Dragon King, I took it. It was the sort of kill that could make an assassin's career, and I was certain that I had the skills for it.

I was wrong, nearly dead wrong.

The King caught me before I could finish the job, but instead of killing me, he made me his. I'm now the Dragon King's assassin. A warning and a weapon. A way for him to bypass his own laws without personally breaking them. But that's not all. He's tasked me with guarding him against future attacks. Who better to stop an assassin than another assassin? And who better to find the one who hired us? If only the King didn't have a body that made me salivate, a face that made my knees weak, and a pair of teal eyes that made me whimper. If only he didn't stare at me with those stunning eyes as if I could be more than property to him. Maybe then I could do my job, find the person who wants him dead, and save my own life. But I don't believe in miracles.

Excerpt 

 Once I reached the terrace, I freed my wrists and crawled over the railing to land on the soles of my soft leather boots, quiet as a cat. Despite the windows to either side of the balcony remaining dark, I dropped to my belly and slithered to the solid doors. Pressing my ear to the crack between the double doors, I heard the soft sounds of even breathing and smiled. I carefully rose into a crouch and pulled the lock-picking tools out of my vest.

A few seconds later, I was opening one of the balcony doors and slipping around it. I shut it just as quickly and quietly, blocking out the moonlight to give me more shadows to hide in, then stood pressed against the wall while my eyes adjusted. I was only a human, after all. I didn't have the night vision of the other races of Racul.

When the bed came into focus, the dark mound of the sleeping king atop it, I removed my weapon. As it was with all my tools, the metal of the slim tube was blackened without gloss. It was a simple device, one that many assassins preferred for its precision, speed, and silent execution. Execution being the keyword. The problem was, it was a weapon that required proximity to your target. The barrel had to be pressed against the victim's head—anywhere on the head, but I tried to go for the base, somewhere under the chin or at the top of the spine in back—and then the pointed rod within the tube could be released. Death was instantaneous, even for an immortal Dragon. Immortal, they may be, but not invulnerable.

Did I care that killing King Tarocvar Verres would throw the entire Kingdom of Racul into chaos? That although there was some satisfaction in taking the life of one of those elitist assholes—the head elitist asshole—another Dragon would inevitably take his place. Did it bother me that this man had done some good for the kingdom and his replacement might fuck things up?

Nah. I'm an asshole too.

I crept up to the enormous bed, heading for the side he was closest to—the left. My left. The King slept on his side, curled up like a baby. Not that his position made him any less intimidating. Even asleep, the Dragon King exuded power that sent shivers down my spine. I'd studied him long enough to know his body nearly as intimately as a lover, had spent many nights watching him bathe, dress, and fuck.

I could bring an image of the King's body to mind in a second—a very detailed image of bulging muscles and golden-brown skin. Of long hair as black as midnight that gleamed crimson in the light, glittering teal eyes so bright that they seemed to glow, and a jaw that could crush rocks. But I'd never been this close to him. So close that I could smell the spice of his skin and see the cleft in his chin—a little dent, as if he had indeed tried to crush rocks with it. Damn, he was handsome. Fucking breathtaking. What a shame.

Just as I leaned forward to set the weapon beneath the royal cleft chin, those stunning eyes shot open and focused on me. The King knocked away my weapon before locking his strong hand around my throat.

A deep rumble vibrated through the air between us. “Hello, little mouse. Have you come to play?”

About the Author 

Amy Sumida is the Internationally Acclaimed author of the Award-Winning Godhunter Series, the fantasy paranormal Twilight Court Series, the Beyond the Godhunter Series, the music-oriented paranormal Spellsinger Series, the superhero Spectra Series, the Gay Fantasy Romance Soul Stone Series, the Gay Paranormal Romance Tales of the Beneath Series, the Gay Fantasy Romance Dragons of Serai Series, the Gay Why Choose Romance Wraith Lords Series, and several short stories. Her books have been translated into several languages, have won numerous awards, and are bestsellers. She believes in empowering people through her writing as well as providing everyone with a great escape from reality. Her stories are full of strong main characters paired with hot gods, shapeshifters, vampires, dragons, fairies, gargoyles... pretty much any type of supernatural, breathtakingly gorgeous man you can think of. Because why have normal when you could have paranormal?

Born and raised in Hawaii, Amy made a perilous journey across the ocean with six cats to settle in the beautiful state of Oregon which reminds her a lot of Hawaii but without the cockroaches or evil sand. When she isn't trying to type fast enough to keep up with the voices in her head while ignoring the kitties trying to sabotage her with cuteness, she enjoys painting on canvases, walls, and anything else that will sit still long enough for the paint to dry. She's fueled by tea, inspired by music, and spends most of her time lost in imaginary worlds.

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The Unquiet House by Ellie Thomas