Darkness Within by Candis Vargo

 

Chapter 1The force of the impact with the truck thrust the Jeep forward, throwing Mia deep into her

seat as they went nose first into a ditch. What was left of the back of the jeep rolled up over the

front. It continued to flip over several times before seeming to levitate in the air after rolling off

the embankment. It felt like an eternity, the world moving in slow motion, before it smashed

against the icy cold river sending shards of glass and ice throughout the vehicle. As it slowly

began to sink Mia automatically reached down to unbuckle herself. After struggling to free

herself from the seat belt she reached back for her son.

Her long, dark hair floated through the thickness of the icy water and streams of blood swam

around her face. As she turned around everything became hazy and the darkness fought to take

away her control. A panic began to set in as her heart raced. She needed to get back to Eli, to

unbuckle him…she needed to save her son.

Being a mother she couldn’t care less if she was hurt, she just needed to save her son. Like a

tiger protecting her young, it was a mother’s first priority.

As she tried to move into the back seat she reached out to Eli again.

He gently placed his outstretched hand into hers. His eyes, so soft and gentle, stared into his

mother’s, whose were full of pain and fear for him. He smiled his sweet innocent smile as if

telling her that things were going to be okay.

It was the end of February, a time the weather was supposed to be warming up as it was

readying for spring. Supposed to…but of course it wasn’t.

Mia had been trying to avoid what happened. Just moments ago she was talking to her

husband on the phone through the Bluetooth she managed to con him into installing, stating that

she was going to wait for the storm to pass.

“Hello,” Mikes groggy voice had echoed through the car.

“Hi, Daddy.” Eli’s enthusiasm rang throughout the vehicle. “Dad…Dad, I’m out of school,

Dad. And it’s snowing!”

“Oh yeah, buddy,” Mike replied. “Well, I guess I will see you soon then.”

Mia had angled her rear view mirror down to look back at Eli. She placed her index finger in

front of her mouth to shush him but smiled underneath it.

Eli puckered his lips out and grabbed them with one hand to keep himself from talking as he

gave her a thumbs up.

“Yeah, it’s snowing like crazy.” Mia took her time as she drove. She was never a fan of the

winter weather and only liked snow on Christmas Eve and

Christmas Day, any time before or after that she’d prefer it be seventy degrees and sunny.

“We’re going to be late for dinner. I think I’m going to pull over when I can manage to even see

anything so I don’t slide into a damn ditch.”

When Mia left to pick Eli up from preschool there were just a few flurries floating in the icy

wind. Now it had come to near white out conditions, causing her to curse winter even more.

“All right, just take your time and watch out for the crazy people out there. And I came up

with an awesome idea for big man’s birthday party. Turning the big five soon, eh, buddy.”

Mia looked in the mirror and saw Eli’s deep brown eyes light up. He hopped up and down in

his booster seat with excitement. “Do I get a guitar,

Dad? Daddy, I want a guitar!”

“You’ll have to wait and see, buddy, but I better let you guys go so you can get home. Maybe

this snow will be good enough to take you snowmobiling later.”

Mia rolled her eyes and shook her head in frustration. “See you when we get home.”

She was still upset with him over what had happened the night before. She could swear that

sometimes it seemed like he’d rather be anywhere but where the man of the house should be at

night…home. Gender roles were never really her thing, but to her it always seemed like the man

did a better job of protecting the family from intruders.

“Stay safe,” Mike said before he hung up.

After Mike hung up Mia had slowed down even more, trying to find a place to pull over before

she got anywhere near the upcoming bridge that crossed the river. She wanted to be out of the

way of any oncoming traffic but with the snow falling as hard as it was, it was nearly impossible

to see anything.

After a few more minutes of driving the snow let up ever so slightly, enough for her to spot a

place where she could pull over. Slowing down to a near stop, she started to turn the wheel.

The distinctive sound of a big rig’s horn snapped her attention to the rear view mirror, still

angled for her to see Eli. She snapped her head to the right side mirror and saw a tractor trailer

turned sideways, sliding towards her. Her heart raced as she pushed the gas pedal, trying to get

out of the way as fast as she could. The wheels seemed to turn in pace and the air horn blared

again, but was drowned out by the screeching of metal as it collided.

Everything went black.

 


Darkness Within
The Darkness Series
Book One
Candis Vargo
Genre: Paranormal Thriller
Publisher: Limitless Publishing
Date of Publication: March 10
ISBN:
ASIN:
Book Description:
Tragedy strikes the Roseburg family and leaves Mike struggling to help his wife, Mia. After losing their only child in an accident, Mia is far from emotionally distraught…instead, she continues on like their son is still alive.
Four months passed since the accident…
Mike begins to work with a psychiatrist to help his wife with her delusions when a darkness begins to haunt them. As this dark presence becomes violent, making itself known, Mike wonders if the illusion of their child that his wife is seeing is something far more demonic.
With the dark force looming over them, Mike is left questioning his own sanity as he tries to unravel what is real and what is not.
Soon he realizes…
Something is dreadfully wrong.
 
About the Author:
Growing up on an old dirty road in the middle of nowhere, as a child Candis used her love for books as a way to escape reality (and her brother constantly trying to kill her—literally). She blames her love of all things Horror on being born on Friday the 13th and will always find joy in scaring her friends.
You will find a little piece of her in every book she writes. She loves a good happy ending, but most of the time she prefers one she never saw coming.
When she’s not writing or reading, she can usually be found chasing her children around. She currently lives in Rome, Pennsylvania with her husband and three children. And her fat cat.

Circumstantial Evidence by Lisa Clark O’Neill

 

 
The fog was so thick you could slice it with a knife and serve it up a la mode.

Will Hawbaker scrambled over fallen logs, wading through a sea of saw palmettoes as

deep as his waist. The maritime forest was nearly impenetrable, with boggy patches of ground to

catch the unwary in its earthen grip, sucking the boots right off your feet if you weren’t careful.

Will paused, shining his flashlight around, the beam a feeble weapon against the

moonless night. It was hours yet until daybreak, when the sun would burn off the fog like the

wispy vestiges of a bad dream.

And this was definitely a bad dream. One Will wished he could wake up from.

Even at this time of night the air felt like a slow cooker, baking him from the inside out.

Sweat rolled down his temples, his back, causing his shirt to cling and his hair to drip salty tears

on the fanned leaves of the nearest palmetto. Mosquitoes droned just outside the protective zone

of the repellent he’d applied, black clouds swirling through the white.

Nearby, an owl hooted.

This was an uncomfortable environment for an adult, even one who was accustomed to

putting himself in danger.

For a child, it had to be terrifying.

“Sam!” Will called out, listening as his voice seemed to be absorbed by the soup-like air.

He heard barking, but couldn’t tell if it was coming closer to him or moving away. The

team from the Sheriff’s Department with the bloodhounds had set out at the same time he had,

but they’d all headed in different directions.

They had a lot of forest to cover, and not a lot of time. The twenty-four hour window,

that critical time after an abduction, was closing fast.

Hearing something – had that been a whimper? – off to his left, Will turned the flashlight

that direction.

“Sam?”

Even though no response was forthcoming, Will began moving toward the sound. If the

child was hurt, he may not be able to answer. If he was frightened – and why the hell wouldn’t

he be? – he may be too terrified to make his hiding spot known.

“Sam!” Will called as he shoved a small sapling out of his way. “I know you must be

scared, buddy, but I’m here to help you.”

And because the kid probably didn’t believe jack shit coming from adults right now,

especially adults he was supposed to be able to trust, Will didn’t bother to mention anything

about being a cop. That wasn’t quite the vote of confidence it once was, anyway. Better to try

something on the boy’s level.

“I hear you like dogs,” he said, his voice radiating calm even as he viciously kicked at

a vine that wanted to tangle him up in its thorny grip. “Do you hear the dogs barking? They’re

looking for you, too.”

Fingers of fog tickled the back of Will’s neck, teasingly cool against his overheated flesh.

Mother Nature was definitely female, Will thought sourly. Soothing and confounding at

the same time.

“I like dogs,” Will said conversationally, because what the hell. If nothing else, maybe

the boy would get sick of hearing him yapping and tell him to shut up. “You hear those

bloodhounds barking? They’re out here looking for you, too. Kind of like Timmy and Lassie.”

Will paused, wondering if the kid even knew who that was. Given that this was the age of

animated sponges living in undersea pineapples, probably not.

“That was an old show I used to watch, about this awesome collie that was always saving

this kid Timmy’s butt. I thought it would be cool to have a dog that could get help when you did

something dumb like fall down a well, but I couldn’t have one when I was a kid. My mom didn’t

want one. She thought it would mess up the house and was too much responsibility.”

His mother didn’t particularly want him or his siblings either, for much the same reason.

But that was beside the point.

“Your mom told me that you’ve been asking for a dog.” Will stopped, shone his

flashlight toward the base of the enormous oak tree off to the right. Was that a flash of red he’d

just seen?

“But that you two had been debating about that responsibility thing, too. And that line

about a boy who can’t even pick up after himself not being responsible enough to take care of a

dog? I heard that one too, and it sucks. But the thing is, your mom is kind of right. I think she’s

willing to give you a chance though. She told me that when you get back home, safe and sound,

she’s taking you to the pound, first thing.”

“Liar!”

Will froze. It had been the merest whisper of sound, ephemeral as the fog itself. He half

thought it was wishful thinking on his part.

“Now, I’ve got no reason to pull your leg about that, son. Dogs are a pretty serious

business. A lot more serious than putting away your Legos and getting your dirty clothes in the

hamper. You’ve got to make sure you feed them and water them and take them for walks… but

maybe you’re not ready for all that responsibility.”

“Am too!”

That was definitely no figment of his imagination.

Covering his relief with a look of exasperation, Will followed the voice with the beam of

his flashlight.

Nine-year-old Sam Bryant peered back at him from one of the branches of the oak tree.

“Pretty good climber, are you?”

The kid looked terrified, but defiant. “Yes. But my mom…” his voice trembled on the

word “tells me that I’m going to fall and break my head.”

“Your head looks pretty hard to me.”

“She’s dead.”

“Excuse me?”

“He…” the kid’s whole lower face started to quiver. “He said my mom was dead. So

you’re lying about the dog.”

Will swallowed the curse he wanted to say, but silently wished all the seven plagues to

be visited upon the man in question. Hopefully while he was naked. And staked out on a fire ant

mound. Why the hell would he say such a thing?

“He lied,” Will told the boy. “He’s the liar.”

He was Matthew Hastings, Sam Bryant’s mother’s boyfriend. After a particularly nasty

argument over Hastings’ belief that Sam’s mom was coddling him too much because she was

squeamish about Sam learning to hunt, Hastings decided to take the kid out into the woods

anyway while his mom was at work. He’d abandoned him there, with no food, no water, and

little hope of finding his way out. Apparently this was meant as an illustration of the importance

of developing survival skills.

Luckily they’d managed to track Hastings car to this area, a stretch of uninhabited

woodland used primarily for a hunting club.

Hastings seemed to have abandoned his car along with the boy, which meant he was in

the wind somewhere. But the important thing was that they’d found Sam, alive and in one piece.

At least he looked to be in one piece.

“Sam, I need you to listen to me, okay? Your mom is fine. She’s worried sick, but she’s

fine. But I need to know if you’re hurt anywhere.”

“I’m thirsty.”

“I’ll just bet.” The kid had been alone in the woods for almost eighteen hours. Given the

fact that it was August in South Carolina, dehydration was a given. Will pulled a bottle out of the

pocket of his cargo pants.

“Lucky for you I brought some water with me. Now, I have to contact the other people

who are looking for you, so that everyone knows you’re okay. Can you climb down from there,

or do you need help?”

“I can do it.”

“Good man.” But because Will didn’t want to take any chances, he moved closer

to the base of the tree even as he thumbed on his radio. “Found him,” he said, and gave his

approximate coordinates. “I’ll give you a status report on his condition just as soon as I have a

chance to check him out.”

Fog swirled, obscuring his view of the boy, the tree, and Will moved his flashlight around

in an attempt to see through it. “Sam?” he said, but received no answer.

“Sam?” he said again. “Be careful climbing down.”

That would be just what they needed at this point, for the kid to fall out of the tree and

actually break his head.

Concern niggled. “Sam? Maybe you should just stay put, buddy, and let me help you.”

Will closed the final distance to the tree, but he tripped over an exposed root near the

base and nearly went sprawling.

“Some help I am,” he muttered. “Pretend you didn’t see that,” he called out. But still the

boy didn’t respond.

“Sam?” Will aimed his flashlight toward the branch of the tree where he’d last seen the

kid sitting. Empty. He started moving the beam lower.

“Sam!” he said one more time when he saw no sign of the boy on any of the branches.

The nerves that had so recently calmed began to jump beneath his skin. Shit. Had the boy fallen?

He shone his flashlight at the ground, the boiling fog making it nearly impossible to distinguish

shapes, around the side, back toward that root he’d tripped –

“Oh Jesus. Oh no.” Will stumbled the two steps that would take him to where the boy lay,

dropping down on his knees beside him. How could he have fallen without Will hearing a thing?

“Sam?” Will reached out, turned the boy over.

And felt the blood drain out of his head.

The boy hadn’t fallen. He’d been shot.

And he’d been dead for quite some time.

 


Circumstantial Evidence
The Sweetwater Trilogy
Book 3
Lisa Clark O’Neill
Genre: Romantic suspense
Date of Publication: February 26, 2015
ISBN: 1508605998
ASIN: B00U1FH2L4
Number of pages: 475
Word Count: 95,000
Cover Artist: Brian Koch
Book Description:
As Chief of Police in Sweetwater, South Carolina, Will Hawbaker has seen more than his share of violent crime. But none of it has prepared him for the aftereffects of a young boy dead at the hand of his mother’s boyfriend. And when the suspected killer turns up dead himself, it raises more questions. Could this crime which has already shaken the town be even more sinister than it appears?
Camellia Abernathy has seen her own share of heartache following the violent death of the husband she only thought she knew. In returning to Sweetwater, her childhood home, Cam hopes to pick up the pieces of a shattered life for both herself and her young son. One piece of that life includes Will Hawbaker, the man who not only launched the investigation which uncovered her husband’s double life, but with whom she’s been in love since they were teens.
A rapid fire series of events turns both Cam and Will’s lives upside down, drawing them together even as they find themselves in the crosshairs of a killer.
Available at   Amazon    BN     Smashwords
 
 
About the Author:
One fine day in the not-too-distant past, Lisa Clark O’Neill left Wittenberg University with a BA in English, which she promptly neglected. After working as an interior designer, decorative artist, and Montessori art teacher (there may have been a BA in art as well,) she finally settled into the role of mother to two very fine children.
However, two years of doing the stay-at-home-mom brain cell melt drove her to pull out a pen and one of her old college notebooks.
That turned into six manuscripts.
Lisa spent subsequent years avoiding housework by burying her nose in just about every romance novel she could get her hands on, after completely falling in love with the genre. Her own work falls into the romantic suspense sub-genre, with strong comedic undertones.
Lisa currently lives in the Atlanta area with her family, her dog, her cat and her daughter’s pet rabbit. When she isn’t attempting to keep the rabbit from eating the woodwork, she’s hard at work on her next novel.
  

 

Foxglove In Springtime by Abigail Madison Chase

 

Care Instructions for Springtime Love

Prepare your heart for love.

Carefully weed through the dirt bags

till the best bachelor or bachelorette,

begins to shake free of those who are unworthy.

Set out each season carefully planting yourself

in your best light.

Don’t dig a hole with lies.

Sow the seeds of love and happiness,

as you watch love hop your way.

Spring Showers of Truelove

Truelove showers open hearts in the springtime,

the fertile earth gives birth to the gentle beauty of,

a blissful season of truelove.

Sweet rays of springtime

thaw the freeze heart.

Gone like the first day of winter,

Love Springs forth like the hands of time

 

 


Foxglove In Springtime
Short stories and Poems
Abigail Madison Chase
Genre: Poetry
Date of Publication: February 28, 2015
Number of pages: 30
Cover Artist: Keri Knutson
Book Description:
Foxgloves In Springtime, is a collection of beautiful lyrical expressions of love in the springtime. Lovers of romantic poetry can scarcely go wrong with this collection. 
Many of the poems reflect on longing, loss and great passion. Written from the perspective of a lover, there are poems for every mood and occasion.
This thoughtful collection of poems is a treasure for connoisseur of poetry and those who are not big poetry readers.
 About the Author:
Author Abigail-Madison Chase is a 20 something (ok, 40something) neurotic mother of two. A highly trained professional (ok, only in her mind she’s Jane Bond super heroine), along the way she writes terrible poetry and illegible books.
Abigail Madison Chase lives in the beautiful Mountains of the Western United States. Always a dreamer, Abigail has been writing since she was in Mrs. Turners 4th grade Language Arts class. There she won 1st prize in the Creative Writing Fair. Abigail holds a B.F.A and M.F.A in English and Literature.
Abigail’s family, and her writing exist in a world of make-believe harmony. Each fighting for their right to become a character she want kill off. Sarcasm, quick wit and lots of laughs are the hallmark of Abigail’s Wonderful World. A place were lots of peace and harmony descend upon, she and her two children is where Abigail-Madison Chase lives.

Becoming Andy Hunsinger by Jere’ M. Fishback

CHAPTER ONE

On my seventh birthday, my parents gave me a Dr. Seuss book, The Cat in the Hat.

I still have the book; it rests on the shelf above my desk, along with other Seuss works I’ve

collected. Inside The Cat in the Hat’s cover, my mother wrote an inscription, using

her precise penmanship.

“Happy Birthday, Andy. As you grow older, you’ll realize many truths dwell within these pages.

Much love, Mom and Dad.”

Mom was right, of course. She most always is.

My favorite line in The Cat in the Hat is this one: “Be who you are and say what you feel

because those who mind don’t matter and those who matter don’t mind.”

***

Loretta McPhail was a notorious Tallahassee slumlord. On a steamy afternoon, in August 1976,

she spoke to me in her North Florida drawl: part magnolia, part crosscut saw.

“The rent’s one-twenty-five. I’ll need first, last, and a security deposit, no exceptions.”

McPhail wore a short-sleeved shirtwaist dress, spectator pumps, and a straw hat with a green

plastic windowpane sewn into the brim. Her skin was as pale as cake flour. A

gray moustache grew on her winkled upper lip, and age spots peppered the backs of her hands.

Her eyeglasses had lenses so thick her gaze looked buggy.

I’d heard McPhail held title to more than fifty properties in town, all of them cited multiple times

for violation of local building codes. She owned rooming houses, single family

homes, and small apartment buildings, mostly in neighborhoods surrounding Florida State

University’s campus. Like me, her tenants sought cheap rent; they didn’t

care if the roof leaked or the furnace didn’t work.

The Franklin Street apartment I viewed with McPhail wasn’t much: a living room and kitchen,

divided by a three-quarter wall; a bedroom with windows looking into the rear and side yards; a

bathroom with a wall-mounted sink, a shower stall, and a toilet with a broken seat. In each room,

the plaster ceilings bore water marks. The carpet was a leopard skin of suspicious-looking stains,

and the whole place stank of mildew and cat pee.

McPhail’s building was a two-storied, red brick fourplex with casement windows that opened

like book covers, a Panhandle style of architecture popular in the 1950s.

Shingles on the pitched roof curled at their edges. Live oaks and longleaf pines shaded the

crabgrass lawn, and skeletal azaleas clung to the building’s exterior.

In the kitchen, I peeked inside a rust-pitted Frigidaire. The previous tenant had left gifts: a half-
empty ketchup bottle, another of pickle relish. A carton of orange juice with an expiration date

three months past sat beside a tub of margarine.

Out in the stairwell, piano music tinkled — a jazzy number I didn’t recognize.

McPhail clucked her tongue and shook her head. “I’ve told Fergal — and I mean several times —

to close his door when he plays, but he never does. I’m not sure why I put up with that boy.”

McPhail pulled a pack of Marlboros from a pocket in the skirt of her dress. After tapping out two

cigarettes, she jammed both between her lips. She lit the Marlboros with a

brushed-chrome Zippo, and then she gave me one cigarette.

I puffed and tapped a toe, letting my gaze travel about the kitchen. I studied the chipped

porcelain sink, scratched Formica countertops, and drippy faucet. Blackened food caked the

range’s burner pans. The linoleum floor’s confetti motif had long ago disappeared in high-
traffic areas. Okay, the place was a dump. But the rent was cheap, and campus was less than a

mile away. I could ride my bike to classes, and to my part-time job as caddy at the Capital City

Country Club.

Still, I hesitated.

The past two years, I’d lived in my fraternity house with forty brothers. I took my meals there,

too. If I rented McPhail’s apartment, I’d have to cook for myself. What would I eat? Where

would I shop for food? Other questions flooded my brain. Where would I wash my clothes? And

how did a guy open a utilities account? The apartment wasn’t furnished. Where would I purchase

a bed? What about a dinette and living room furniture? And how much did such things cost? It

all seemed so complicated.

Still…

Lack of privacy at the fraternity house would pose a problem for me this year. Over summer

break — back home in Pensacola — I’d experienced my first sexual encounter

with another male, a lanky serviceman named Jeff Dellinger, age twenty-four. Jeff was a Second

Lieutenant from Eglin Air Force Base. I met him at a sand volleyball game behind a Pensacola

Beach hotel, and he seemed friendly. I liked his dark hair, slim physique, and ready smile, but

wasn’t expecting anything personal to happen between us.

After all, I was a “straight boy”, right?

We bought each other beers at the tiki bar, and then Jeff invited me up to his hotel

room. Once we reached the room, Jeff prepared two vodka tonics. My drink struck like snake

venom, and then my brain fuzzed. Jeff opened a bureau drawer; he produced a lethal-looking

pistol fashioned from black metal. The pistol had a matte finish and a checked grip.

“Ever seen one of these?” Jeff asked.

I shook my head.

“It’s an M1911 — official Air Force issue. I’ve fired it dozens of times.” Jeff raised the gun to

shoulder height. He closed one eye, focused his other on the pistol’s barrel sight. “Shooting’s

almost… sensual,” he said. Then he looked at me. “It’s like sex, if you know what I mean.”

I shrugged, not knowing what to say.

Jeff handed the pistol to me. It weighed more than I’d expected, between two and three pounds. I

turned the pistol here and there, admiring its sleek contours. The grip felt

cold against my palm and a shiver ran through me. I’d never fired a handgun, never thought to.

“Is it loaded?” I asked.

Jeff bobbed his chin. “One bullet’s in the firing chamber, seven more in the magazine; it’s a

semi-automatic.”

After I handed Jeff the gun, he returned it to his bureau’s drawer while I sipped from my drink,

feeling woozier by the minute. Jeff sat next to me, on the room’s double bed. His knee nudged

mine, our shoulders touched, and I smelled his coconut-scented sunscreen. Jeff laid a hand on my

thigh. Then he squeezed. “You don’t mind, do you?”

I looked down at his hand while my heart thumped. Goon, chickenshit. He wants you. I looked

into Jeff’s dark eyes. “It’s fine,” I said.

Moments later my swim trunks lay in a corner and Jeff knelt before me, slurping away. Currents

of pleasure crept through my limbs, and then I felt a buzzing between my

legs. When I came, I thought I’d pass out. I closed my eyes and drew a deep breath. Then I

watched fireworks explode inside my head.

Jesus, this feels good. Why haven’t I done this before?

 


Becoming Andy Hunsinger
Jere’ M. Fishback
Genre: Historical romance, GLBT,
Historical,Edgy Young Adult
Publisher: Prizm Books
Date of Publication: December 30, 2014
ISBN: 978-1-61040-858-5
ASIN: B00RN6L8HS
Number of pages: 208
Word Count: 65,800
Cover Artist: Fiona Jayde
Book Description:
It’s 1976, and Anita Bryant’s homophobic “Save Our Children” crusade rages through Florida. When Andy Hunsinger, a closeted gay college student, joins in a demonstration protesting Bryant’s appearance in Tallahassee, his straight boy image is shattered when he’s “outed” by a TV news reporter.
In the months following, Andy discovers just what it means to be openly gay in a society that condemns love between two men.
Can Andy’s friendship with Travis, a devout Christian who’s fighting his own sexual urges, develop into something deeper?
Available at Amazon    Prizm Books

 

About the Author:
Jere’ M. Fishback is a former news editor and trial lawyer. He writes Young Adult novels, short fiction, and memoirs. A Florida native, he lives on a barrier island on the Gulf of Mexico, west of Tampa/St. Petersburg. When he’s not writing, Jere’ enjoys cycling, surfing, lap-swimming, and watching sunsets with a glass of wine in hand.

Two Princes: The Biker and The Billionaire by Victoria Danann

 

Two Princes: The Biker and The Billionaire

Sons of Sanctuary
Book 1
Victoria Danann
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Publisher: 7th House Publishing,
Imprint of Andromeda LLC
Date of Publication: June 16, 2015
Number of pages: 300
Word Count: 90,000
Cover Artist: Victoria Danann
Book Description:
Brigid Roan is a graduate student at the University of Texas. She had no trouble getting her thesis approved, but finding a Hill Country motorcycle club willing to give her access to their lifestyle had started to seem impossible. Then she got a lead. A friend of a friend had a cousin with ties to The Sons of Sanctuary.
 
What she wanted was information to prove a proposition. What she didn’t want was to fall for one of the members of the club. Especially since she had set out to prove that motorcycle clubs are organized according to the same structure as primitive tribal society.
Brash Fornight was standing in line at the H.E.B. Market when his world tipped on its axis. While waiting his turn to check out, his gaze had wandered to the magazine display and settled on the new issue of “NOW”. The image on the cover, although GQ’d up in an insanely urbane way, was… him.
 
After reading the article, Brash threw some stuff in a duffle and left his club, The Sons of Sanctuary, with a vague explanation about needing a couple of days away. He left his Jeep at the Austin airport and caught a plane for New York, on a mission to find the guy who was walking around with his face.

Two brothers, one a player, one a playboy, are on a collision course with destiny and a woman who thought she won a prize when she was allowed a look inside the Sons of Sanctuary MC.


Available at Amazon  BN   Kobo   iTunes
 

About the Author:

USA Today Bestselling Author, Victoria Danann, is making her debut into Contemporary Romance with releases in May and June 2015, after taking the world of PNR by storm.
Her Knights of Black Swan series won Best Paranormal Romance Two years in a Row (2013, 2014). ~Reviewers Choice Awards, The Paranormal Romance Guild.
Victoria’s paranormal romances come with uniquely fresh perspectives on “imaginary” creatures, characters, and themes. She adds a dash of scifi, a flourish of fantasy, enough humor to make you laugh out loud, and enough steam to make you squirm in your chair. 
 
Her heroines are independent femmes with flaws and minds of their own whether they are aliens, witches, demonologists, psychics, past life therapists, or financial analysts from Dallas. Her heroes are hot and hunky, but they also have brains, character, and good manners – usually – whether they be elves, demons, berserkers, werewolves, or vampires.
The first book of the Knights of Black Swan Paranormal Romance Series, My Familiar Stranger, was nominated for Best Paranormal Romance of 2012 by both Reviewers’ Choice and Readers’ Choice Awards. All of her books have opened on the Amazon Best Sellers list and earned Night Owl Reviews Top Pick awards.
Many have appeared on Listopia Book of the Month as #1 across all genres.
For books published in 2013, Black Swan won three awards.
1. Best Paranormal Romance Series


2. Best Paranormal Romance Novel – A SUMMONER’S TALE
3. Best Vampire~Shifter Novel – MOONLIGHT.
In 2014, Solomon’s Sieve won Best Vampire Novel.
If you’re interested in me personally, I am also a classically trained musician who defected to Classic Rock and that’s my first love. Yeah. Even more than writing.
This is Roadhouse, the very best in Classic Rock, taken near The Last Concert Cafe, Houston Texas, 2011. I was the utility player which means I played rhythm guitar, keyboards, sang backups and a few leads.
@vdanann

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