Fate of the Storm by Valerie Storm


Fate of the Storm
Demon Storm 
Book Eight
Valerie Storm

Genre: Young Adult Fantasy
Publisher: Shadow Spark Publishing
Date of Publication: 5/13/2025
ISBN: 9781956883343 
ASIN: B0F4BD7X8Y
Number of pages: 374
Word Count:  97,896
Cover Artist: @Ginkahederling

Book Description:

The shadows have retreated with Raven’s downfall, but darkness still curls at the edges of the world. For a moment, though, Kari and Ari have a moment of peace. There is a glimmer of light that threatens to wash away the darkness as they finally bind their fates together in a formal ceremony.

But Raven hasn’t given up, and there’s an older, crueler foe who hasn’t forgotten Kari – the Lord of Demons, the very one who crafted the Catalyst which Raven sought to control, still trapped in an ancient Tree.

Kari’s moment of joy comes to a halt as the world shakes and Taris is ripped apart.

Velthas has risen.

Excerpt:

The ground gave a sudden, violent shake. Kari and Essie stumbled, but managed to stay standing. All around people and demons staggered, fell, or bumped into each other. South of where they stood came a hoarse scream. Dust clouded quick and fast, obscuring the view of the southern gate and guard towers. The buildings around them quivered, shaking from left to right.

Kari held onto Essie as the ground continued to vibrate. Her teeth clattered. “What in the Yutemi is that?!”

Guine had his hand on Rathik’s shoulder to steady both of them. “Feels like a quake,” he said solemnly. “Have you had one on Taris before?”

“Not in my time!” Ari answered.

“We have to get everyone away from the buildings,” Guine said. “If one collapses—”

Rathik knocked Guine’s hand off and spun to the south gate. “NO!”

As he broke into a run, Kari, Guine, Essie, and Ari whirled. The dust cloud quickly thinned, revealing a messy shamble of splintered wood that had been Freehaven’s southern gate. And the guard tower, set beside it—

“The tower!” a demoness yelled. “It’s falling!”

Essie sprinted after Rathik.

“Essie, wait!” Kari shouted, then cursed. “Tell the council!” she ordered of the nearest townspeople before she, Ari, and Guine raced after Essie and Rathik.

The vibrations made it difficult to run; Ari grabbed Kari’s hand when she stumbled. The southern gate wasn’t far, but every shiver of the ground forced them to slow and regain their balance before they could go on. Kari’s mind roared as they ran. What was happening that could make the very ground move like this?

When they reached the south gate, they stopped and stood in silence. Essie and Rathik stood at the bottom of the guard tower, or what was left of it. The ground had cracked and lifted, and the tower had toppled, crushing part of the gate. Through a miasma of dust, splintered wood and slabs of stone made an incomprehensible pile of rubble.

“Killia!” Rathik dove for the rubble and hefted shattered planks of wood and cracked stone. Even as he coughed and waved away the dirt clouding around him, he dug for the young guard. Essie joined him, shoving slabs of rock out of the way as fast as she could.

Kari stood frozen, mind a whirl and blank all at once. Ari joined Rathik. Together they shoved aside a thick beam of wood that had snapped in half.

What is this? Why is this happening?

“They’re probably dead already,” Guine said. “That much weight…there’s no way.”

Something dark and heavy sank deep into Kari’s stomach. “Help them.”

With a short sigh, Guine stepped forward. He knelt and touched the rubble—at his fingertips, wood and stone crumbled, adding to the dust already fogging the air. Essie glanced up at him, then she and Ari pulled Rathik away. Rathik visibly trembled from head to foot before he dropped to his knees.

The new dust was grittier; Kari sputtered a short cough and waved a hand in front of her face. Maybe Killia would be okay.

 

 

About the Author:

Valerie Storm was raised in Tucson, Arizona. Growing up, she fell in love with everything fantasy. When she wasn’t playing video games, she was writing. By age ten, she began to write her own stories as a way to escape reality. When these stories became a full-length series, she considered the path to sharing with other children and children-at/heart looking for a place to call home.











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Release Day Blitz Same Place, Same Stars by Katey Taylor


Same Place, Same Stars
Katey Taylor

Genre: Psychological Mystery/Drama, 
Coming-of-Age, Adult Fiction 
Publisher: Katey Taylor
Date of Publication: 5/13/25
ISBN: 9781732750456
ASIN: B0DYK959FJ
Number of pages: 317
Word Count: 93,000

Book Description:

Twenty-one-year-old Natalia battles a rare parasomnia sleep disorder that propels her to act violently, experience night terrors, and put herself in dangerous situations—all while she’s unconscious.

After waking up covered in unexplained bruises, she lands herself back in a mental facility. Making friends has never been easy, but at Awana, she quickly bonds with her fun-loving roommate Lindsay and falls for Gabriel, a handsome yet severely depressed resident she secretly meets at night.

As Natalia wrestles with the harsh side effects of her medication, her reality unravels, exposing disturbing truths about those she trusts most. Though romantic relationships are strictly forbidden at Awana, Gabriel becomes her lifeline amidst the chaos. To be with him, Natalia must risk everything—including her sanity, and she learns some choices carry devastating consequences.

Filled with shocking twists, Same Place, Same Stars, is a psychological drama that unpacks the many layers of what happens when dark secrets refuse to be ignored.

Amazon     Kobo     BN

Book Trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QGIl0E7DhC4

 

Excerpt: CHAPTER 1

 

No sharp objects. Pack light.

My instinct is to run, but I don’t know how far my sore limbs will carry me.

Apathy is my last line of defense.

I reach for a baggy sweatshirt and leggings. This has become my uniform when I go away, not for any fashion statement but its functionality—it can be easily taken off before my body is searched by a nurse’s gloved hands. The pressure from the fabric causes me to hiss in pain. I carefully step each leg in to cover the tender scrapes and deep purple bruises along my pale white shins and thighs. The bruises are a reminder that I’ve messed up again.  

I drag my worn leather suitcase that’s on its last leg away from our cottage and into the trunk of Olga’s station wagon. She doesn’t say a word as we head out of our driveway and onto the tree-dense highway. The branches are grayer than normal, though it could be my mood filtering the world in a cloud of indifference.

Olga rolls every window down even though it’s a brisk fifty-two degrees. Long drives make her sweat. I think she would never leave our small town if it were up to her, but I remain her forcing agent.

My eyes wander from the pastures filled with cows and horses to Olga and her wild blowing hair that is unusually more silver than black for someone in their thirties.

“So, what’s this ward like?” I ask, trying to break the tense silence.

“Don’t call it that. That’s not what it’s called. This is a treatment center.”

She turns up her classical piano playlist, the one she plays to calm her nerves, then hands me a folded piece of stock paper filled with smiling faces of young adults—those who, like me, are not teenagers anymore but not quite what I would consider adults either. Much like our mental state, we’re something in between.

The brochure states this center isn’t government funded. By the looks of it, it seems far out of the budget of Olga’s ballet studio salary and my unemployed status, but it claims as part of their philosophy that they take on special cases free of charge. Just my luck, they happened to have room for a last-minute drop-in.

After the stunt I pulled last night, I’m sure Olga would be willing to pay any price.


About the Author:

Katey Taylor is a San Francisco Bay Area-based author and published poet, with work featured in online magazines such as DarkWinter Lit, SWAAY, and Fauxmoir. She’s recognized for her ability to address complex topics with sensitivity and depth.









Poseidon’s Daughters: Reckoning by Reign Reeves Pearso




Poseidon’s Daughters: Reckoning
Poseidon’s Daughters
Book 1
Reign Reeves Pearson

Genre: Sci-Fi, Thriller
Date of Publication: March 21, 2025
ISBN: B0DZNZ6QPC
ASIN: B0DZCKJBGX
Number of pages: 262
Word Count: 62,400
Cover Artist: Reign Reeves Pearson

Tagline: They wanted a ghost, she’ll give them a reckoning

Book Description: 

They trained her to be a weapon. Now, she’s turning the blade on them.

Eirianwen was Poseidon’s crowning achievement—until she walked away from everything. She’s evaded them for years, carving out a life in the shadows, leaving behind the bloodstained world they forced her into. Now, the past she’s been running from has finally caught up. A storm-wracked night. A breach in her sanctuary. Someone is watching. Someone is waiting. And this time, they don’t just want her dead—they want her to doubt herself. They want the world to believe she’s lost her mind.

They’ve been watching her. Manipulating her. Preparing for her downfall.

Now, the elite organization that built her is coming to collect. Not to kill—to control. They don’t need to break her. They just need to make sure no one believes her when she starts screaming.They want her to understand that her escape, her freedom, was all an illusion.

Erased. Discredited. Untouchable.

But Eirianwen has spent her whole life surviving. And when the walls start closing in, she doesn’t run. She hunts.

Poseidon wants her desperate. Unraveling. Helpless.

They’re about to learn just how dangerous she can be.

Amazon

Book Trailer: https://youtu.be/hpJsOfvRKxI

Excerpt 

Eirianwen ripped out the earpiece and slammed it onto the desk. Panic swirled at the edges of her mind, but she forced it down. Now wasn’t the time. She grabbed a larger bag from under the desk, slung it over her shoulder, and stormed out. In the closet, she set the bag aside, pressing a hidden panel on the side of her bed. A drawer slid open, revealing her arsenal. Her hands shook as she armed herself, snapping a knife into its sheath and loading a handgun with quick, practiced movements. Now, to find them. Moving swiftly, she ran through the house, slipping out the back door and straight into the storm-charged air. Sullivan’s workshop. If she was going to do this right, she’d need a shovel. She yanked open the heavy wooden door, eyes darting over the mess inside.Where the fuck is it? Why is this place always such a goddamn disaster?

A glint of metal under the workbench caught her eye. She crouched, snatched up a spade, and bolted back outside. The rain had started in earnest, cold drops slicing through the thick humidity. She sprinted to where the trackers last pinged, her boots sinking slightly into the softening earth, almost tripping thanks to a low spot. Looking back at the spot, it was all wrong. She knew something was buried there.

Gripping the shovel tightly, she drove it into the ground. The soil gave easily…far too easily. The clay should have been a nightmare to dig through. Someone had already done the work for her. Within moments, her blade hit something solid, and dread curled in her stomach. She dropped to her knees, clawing at the loose earth with bare hands until the objects were free. Her breath hitched. Six trackers. All of them. Cold, useless, and buried like a mockery of her own paranoia. Eirianwen sat back on her heels, mud caking her fingers as she stared at the pile in her hands. Someone knew.

Her cheeks burned hot, but the rest of her body felt frozen. Tears welled, spilling silently down her face as the questions flooded in. Why? Why would Sullivan do this? Had he done this? He wouldn’t put the kids in danger—would he? Where were they? How long had he planned this? Her stomach twisted. Then, her phone buzzed—a single notification. Hands trembling,  she wiped her palms on her pants and yanked it from her pocket. Wi-Fi restored—a new alert. Someone had just crossed the perimeter.

“It better be Sullivan and the kids.”

Eirianwen exhaled sharply, swiping at the sweat and tears streaking her face. Standing, she brushed the dirt from her clothes as best she could, shoving the useless trackers deep into her pocket. She locked her phone and steadied herself. If the kids were with Sullivan, she needed to stay calm. Normal. They couldn’t see the weapons strapped under her clothing. At least the incoming storm gave her an excuse to rush them inside. She’d get them safe first—then she’d deal with Sullivan. She turned toward the tree line, heart pounding in her throat. The property was massive, and she had built the house at its farthest edge. Finally, headlights cut through the gloom. A vehicle emerged. Not Sullivan’s truck. A cold, electric jolt shot down her spine. Every instinct screamed at her.

No one came out here. No one. She had made sure of it. For years, she had meticulously crafted the illusion of a perfectly ordinary life. She knew everyone in town—just enough to avoid suspicion, but never enough to invite curiosity. A delicate balance of friendly but distant. She never gave anyone a reason to visit. She didn’t even use their real address! She picked up all of their mail and deliveries in town. So who the hell thought they had the right to pull up to her house? The SUV slowed to a stop, tires crunching against the gravel. The doors swung open in near unison, and two men stepped out. Sheriff Ford. Deputy Pines. Ford adjusted his jacket, his gaze steady, unreadable. Pines lingered a step behind, eyes sharp, scanning. Ford closed the gap between them, and gave Eirianwen a curt nod.

 

About the Author:

Reign Reeves Pearson is a writer, storyteller, and chaos enthusiast based in Houston, where she lives with her husband, four kids, and three cats who may or may not be plotting world domination. She thrives on Kopiko, rainy days, and an endless love for Final Fantasy VII and Dungeons & Dragons.

 

She’s been writing for as long as she can remember. But in 2019, a health scare forced her to take a hard look at her life, and the answer was clear: writing wasn’t just something she did. It was what she was meant to do.

 

Her debut novel and series, Poseidon’s Daughters: Reckoning, is her first and only planned adventure into sci-fi. Going forward, expect Southern Gothic chills, cosmic nightmares, and nostalgic ‘90s horror—all infused with her signature mix of heart, humor, and a touch of the macabre.

 

When she’s not writing, she’s probably dreaming up elaborate D&D campaigns, getting emotionally wrecked by Final Fantasy VII (again), or staring dramatically out a window while it rains.

 

Follow her chaotic creative journey at:

 

https://reignvox.com/

 

https://x.com/notorious_rrp

 

https://www.twitch.tv/ReignVox

 

https://www.youtube.com/@notorious_rrp

 

https://www.instagram.com/notorious_rrp/

 

https://www.instagram.com/reignreevespearson/

 

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/48135392.Reign_Reeves_Pearson

 

https://www.amazon.com/stores/Reign-Reeves-Pearson/author/B0DZDDF88T





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