Living The Dream by Larynn Ford

Living The Dream

The Dream Trilogy

Book 3

Larynn Ford


Genre: Paranormal Romance

Publisher: Soulmate Publishing

Date of Publication: March 28, 2018

ASIN: B07BH33N72

Number of pages: 194

Word Count: 54k

Cover Artist: Rae Monet

Tagline: Forever’s Not Just A Dream

Book Description:

Lynzi Lancaster Brady is, at long last, living her happily-ever-after with the man of her dreams. Their honeymoon bliss is interrupted when an innocent family visit drops her in the middle of the deadly situation they’ve been dodging for so long.

The troublemaking relative with a vendetta against the family forces them into a final showdown with a disastrous ending that threatens to take the elder of their family from them forever. Will an ancient sorcerer to able to bring her back from death’s door?

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Allvis grunted his disgust bringing an abrupt end to my vain attempts to gain my freedom when he pressed the blade in his other hand to my neck with a firm pressure. I sucked in a sharp quick breath and held it. One wrong move on my part was certain to send the sharp edge slicing deep into my throat. I’d be a goner for sure.

I gritted my teeth tighter. Hands clamped around his wrist, I dug my nails in deep, ripping at his skin to ease the blade away, and relieve the pressure. He put an abrupt end to my efforts by looping my hair around his fist again and jerking me at least another inch higher. The movement caused the blade to nick my skin. I dangled like a puppet from a string in his grip.

“Lynzi!” I read my name on Layne’s lips, horror and desperation carved into his face as he screamed for me, pounded the air, and begged Aunt Pet to work faster. Allvis grunted his disgust bringing an abrupt end to my vain attempts to gain my freedom when he pressed the blade in his other hand to my neck with a firm pressure. I sucked in a sharp quick breath and held it. One wrong move on my part was certain to send the sharp edge slicing deep into my throat. I’d be a goner for sure.

Allvis howled again. “Hey, boy! Where do you want me to leave her head when I separate it from her weak little human body?”

About the Author

Larynn Ford is intrigued by the paranormal. She’s a day dreamer and a romantic. She loves to let her mind wander always searching for a happy ending to her dreams.

At home in East Central Alabama, she worked as a cook and cashier before becoming a wife and mother. Earned a degree in Elementary Education, taught school, and worked in customer service. All the while her day dreams stacked up in the archives of her mind.

She put some of those ideas on paper in 2009 and she’s going to keep on dreaming and searching for those happy endings.



Soul Mate Publishing:
























The Wolf King’s Bride by C.A. Worley

The Wolf King’s Bride
Fate of Imperium
Book One
C.A. Worley
Genre: Fantasy Romance
Publisher: C.A. Worley
Date of Publication: 9/10/2018
ISBN: 9780463151723
Word Count: 73,000
Cover Artist: OliviaProDesign on Fiverr
Tagline: “No, that was never her fate. Her future was always in the North.”
Book Description:
When Kellan, Wolf King of the North, meets his fated mate, she is only a child. He immediately brokers a betrothal and, on the day after her 20th birthday, whisks her away to his castle in the Northland. Kellan is elated, believing he has everything he has ever wanted. His new wife, Nora, doesn’t quite share the same sentiment.
Before Kellan has time to court her, Nora is attacked. An ancient brotherhood refuses to allow an heir of one kingdom onto the throne of another. All four factions in the land of Imperium appear to be involved in a surreptitious struggle for power … while Nora hides a few secrets of her own.
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Nora ran for the
door and Kellan caught her by the waist. “I don’t think so, love.”
She clawed and
scratched at him, using her combat training to try and get free. Her father was
in danger. He needed help.
Kellan was
bemused by his wife’s strength. She managed to score her fingernails across the
side of his face. She drew blood and Kellan was half-proud of her.
In his stupor
over witnessing her abilities, he must have hesitated, because she landed a
hard knee to his kidney. Kellan grunted, but did not let go. He was the
strongest wolf in the pack. His little mate was no match for him.
He carried her
to the bed and held her down with one hand. He reached for his belt on the
floor and his kidney suffered another blow.
Despite his
efforts to avoid it, his cock hardened. He made note to revisit this in the
future. Battling with her in bed was something he wanted to explore.
A punch to his
mouth was enough to dampen his lust. He growled, seizing her wrists and
slamming them above her head.
Holding them
with his left hand, he looped the belt around them with his right. Nora was
bucking like a madwoman, so he flung one leg over to straddle her ribs as he
tightened the restraints.
It took longer
than it should have. Nora was a skilled fighter. Yet another secret withheld
from him.
“There,” he
proclaimed once she was secured to the bed. Her feet were still loose, but he
didn’t think she could get her arms free.
“Please, don’t
do this, Kellan. My father … please!”
“Nora, calm
yourself. I will find him. Did you think I would ignore the vision? I may be
furious with him, but I’ll not ignore my father-in-law’s need for help. Trust
me to do what is necessary.”
“But I can track
him. The earth, it will tell me where he is.”
“As will my
nose. Do not worry. I will handle it.”
“Don’t you dare
leave me like this, Kellan.”
He ignored Nora
as he started to dress, then thought better of it. He would leave the castle in
wolf form, so he could track Edward.
“I will return
as soon as I can.”
Kellan bent to
kiss Nora. Instead of allowing it, she tried to hit his forehead with her own.
“Woman, will you
calm down?” Kellan did not want to get his nose broken.
“How could you?
Are you trying to ensure you’ve earned my abhorrence? Because I can assure you
it’s working,” she seethed.
Kellan recoiled
at the vehemence in her words. “No. Do not say that.”
“How could I
not? You do not listen to me. You have no regard for me. You think of me as a
witch. Do not pretend that you’re not disappointed I’m not a she-wolf. I bet if
I was wolf you would let me go to my father. Instead, you’ve tied me to your
bed like a damned animal.”
“You are tied to
our bed, so I can ensure your safety, Nora. I will be gone from the castle and
you refuse to stay put. I cannot concentrate on whatever your father is facing
if I am worried about you. You are my mate. Nothing is more important to me
than you. Do you hear me? Nothing. I care not that you are an elemental. I
shouldn’t have called you a witch. I am sorrier than you could possibly know.
My anger got the best of me. It won’t happen again. Just as you will not lie to
me again. Mates do not lie to one another. Ever. I am hurt that you could do it
so easily. But we’ll discuss it later. I have to go.”
Kellan had his
hand on the door handle when Nora landed her final blow.
“I may be your
mate, but you are not mine. I am Gwydion. We don’t have mates.”
He bowed his
head as his heart filled with more sorrow than he had ever known. He took a
calming breath, wanting to ward off the reaction he was having to Nora’s harsh
words, but the grief inside him was too big to hide.
Kellan turned
his head towards his wife, eyes wet from the enormity of his heartache.
Nora was shocked
to see tears forming in Kellan’s eyes. One spilled and mixed with the blood
from the scratches on his face. The ones Nora had put there only a moment
“I may not have
your heart, Nora. But you have mine. You can wound it easily. Yet, I give it to
you, freely, with no expectation of anything in return. I’ll endure your hatred
to ensure your safety. For this, I’ll not apologize.”



With that,
Kellan exited the bed chamber, leaving behind the only thing he had ever truly
held onto—hope that his mate loved him.

Supernatural Central Interview

C.A. Worley

  1. Tell me a little bit about your main character of this book.

Nora is the female main character in The Wolf King’s Bride. She’s the youngest daughter of King Edward of Gwydion. Her people are elementals, sometimes called witches, though they find that offensive. She’s the only Gwydion unable to wield her magic. Her mother died while birthing Nora, and the extreme circumstances damaged Nora’s soul. Instead of compelling magic from within, she must absorb it in order to replenish the constant drain on her lifeforce. Basically, she’s leaking magic like a sieve and her family is a tad overprotective because of it. Her entire life she’s been treated as though she was made of glass.

Nora hates being treated differently. She’s adventurous and willful, rarely bowing to her older sisters wishes of social decorum and grace. It’s during one of these times, when she’s completely disheveled, that she meets Kellan, the Wolf King of the North. He finds her state endearing, despite her sisters’ reactions. Her sisters are nervous around him, but Nora finds him fascinating. When he starts speaking of her as if she’s not in the room, she snaps at him, something no one else in the royal family would dare to do.

Nora tries to think of herself as brave, and at the very least willing to make the best of things. She makes an effort to quell her traitorous temper around Kellan, but her mouth often gets the better of her. Her courage and her effort to control her disposition help make the trials she faces in the Northland bearable. Her newfound ability to channel her anger helps her survive the ultimate betrayal.

  1. Do you believe in the paranormal and if so, do you have an experience you can share?

I believe there are things in our world we can’t possibly comprehend. I don’t know they’re paranormal, but I know we don’t know everything, nor can we explain everything.

When I was in middle school, my brother, C.C., and I experienced something that rocked our little brains. Because we both experienced it, I know it wasn’t my imagination.

We lived in the country. Out by the barn, my dad had a running line for our dog, Sam. At night, we clipped him to the line and fed and watered him before our bedtime. Just past the barn was what we believed to be a small cemetery. We didn’t know one was there when my parents bought the property. We’d found small stones we thought were grave makers shortly after we’d built the house. We didn’t discuss it. It was too creepy. We all just sort of pretended there wasn’t a possibility of bodies buried less than fifty yards from our home.

One night, C.C. and I went to feed Sam. We always went together because we were scared to death to go alone. As soon as our feet left the pavement of our driveway and stepped onto the grassy path that led to the barn, we heard someone speak.

We froze, staring at one another. Then we heard other voices chattering away. It sounded like an old man and a group of children. We lived out in the country, on acreage. There were no people nearby. We were at the top of a small valley and there were homes down in the bottom. It was entirely possible voices were carrying up the road. But that was a pretty long way for sound to travel, at least to my twelve-year-old brain.

We did what any self-respecting country kid would do. We ran back inside. Dad made us go back out. Mom must have felt sorry for us because she followed and stood at the door so we could see her. This time, when we stepped on the grass, the interior light of my dad’s car came on.

I grabbed my brother’s hand and took a step back onto the driveway. The light went off. My mom yelled to wrap it up. We stepped forward, and the light came on again. My brother yanked me back onto the pavement and the light went off. He dropped the dog bowl and ran for my mother, leaving me behind. I set the other bowl down and followed suit.

We never waited until dark to go out there again. I always accused my father of having his car’s clicker someplace nearby to mess with us, but he insists he was in the living room. My mom was spooked when she noticed the light going on and off, but chalked it up to coincidence. C.C. and I have no idea what it was. But it was enough for us to wonder what was out there, especially when we started finding old children’s shoes and shoe soles in the area we thought was the cemetery.

  1. What titles are you working on now that you can tell us about?

I am working on The Vampire King’s Mate, which is Book 2 of the Fate of Imperium Series. I am also working on an untitled fantasy under the pen name Cass Alexander. It’s got a lot of humor and tons of off-color language compared C.A. Worley’s books. My brother and I are also starting another nonfiction book to follow the one we wrote last year. This is also under the Cass Alexander moniker. We think it will be about our lives in rural Kentucky growing up. Maybe we’ll even add in our “ghost” experience!

About the Author:
C.A. Worley is the alter-ego of Romance Author Cass Alexander. Where Cass tends to focus on humor in her publications, C.A. loves to write fantasy. She chose to write under the two different monikers to not confuse (or tick off) her readers.
C.A. currently resides in the Midwest, but was born and raised in the South. She spends her days working from home and her evenings are spent shuttling her kids to and fro. Her dinners are subpar, but she makes a mean dessert.
When she’s tired of living her sons’ travel sports schedules, C.A. enjoys a glass (or four) of wine. She needs the liquid courage to click the publish button for her fantasy romance novels.
Her motto is, “Be Brave,” and she tries to live it every day—it takes a healthy dose courage to get through this thing we call life.

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Cover Reveal The Sting of Victory by S D Simper

The Sting of Victory
Fallen Gods
Book One
S D Simper
Genre: Adult Dark Romantic Fantasy (LGBT)
Publisher: Endless Night Publications
Date of Publication:  September 14th 2018
ISBN: 978-1-7324611-1-6
Number of pages: 400
Word Count:  102K
Cover Artist: Jade Mere
Tagline: The cost of love is always high.
Book Description:
“When faced with monstrosity, become the greater monster. The sting of victory will fade with time.”
When Flowridia, a witch granted power by an unknown demon, deceives an alluring foreign diplomat, she is promoted to a position of power to conceal her falsehood. Thrust into a world of politics and murderous ambition, she has her gentle heart and her Familiar to guide her – as well as a drunk Celestial with a penchant for illusion.
Meanwhile, Lady Ayla Darkleaf, Grand Diplomat of Nox’Kartha, smiles with predatory charm and wields her blades with a dancer’s grace. Flowridia falls into a toxic love affair, one she knows will end in heartbreak. But as Ayla’s legacy as a vampiric creature unfolds, Flowridia begins to see the broken woman behind the monster.
When a foreign emperor dies at the hands of a mysterious interloper, one who seeks to collect the greatest sources of power in the realms, Flowridia’s kingdom is charged to stop him. But Flowridia’s devotion becomes torn between duty to her own and the woman whose claws grip her heart.
In the ensuing clash of Gods, Flowridia must choose her loyalties with care – the fate of kingdoms rest in her hands.
Moonlight brushed
the air in silver wisps, barely perceptible through the thick cover of trees.
But enough shone through to cast a shadow upon the secluded cottage, that of a
wolf coated in mud and grime.
From within,
Flowridia ripped the door open. “Aura!” she cried, weeping as her arms tangled
in the damp fur of her beloved companion – Aura the wolf, her lost friend and
familiar, had come for her at last.
Noxious odors
from the swamp mixed with the earthy, rotting scent of mushrooms and the
horrors that fed them. Aura’s golden eyes shone bright, reflecting the filtered
celestial light and the phosphorescent glow of fungi dotting the walls and
moist garden plots. More garden than room, the fungal forest grew in patches,
some of the mushrooms taller than Flowridia herself.
Aura had grown
during their three years apart, standing nearly at Flowridia’s shoulder in
height. Even matted in swamp filth, her silver fur matched the dim moonlight.
Despite the joy
at their reunion, urgency tugged at Flowridia’s panicked heart. “Aura, we have
to leave. If she hears us-”
Shattered glass
broke the fragile peace. Flowridia, her arms tight around Aura’s neck, saw a
dark silhouette in the doorframe of the bedroom and the remains of a ruined
potion on the floor. “Flower Child, what is this?” The woman spoke gently, the
eye of a storm Flowridia knew capable of tearing them both to oblivion. Odessa
the Swamp Witch stepped into view, beautiful despite her sneer, a distorted,
matured mirror of her cowering daughter. Eerie green shone from within her
eyes, her mouth, even the pores of her skin. “All of my love, and this is how
it’s returned? Slinking off in the middle of the night?”
Growling from
Aura’s throat vibrated against Flowridia’s arms. Mother merely chuckled. “Your
familiar is every bit the hero that you are the coward.” She turned her gaze
onto Aura directly, stepping forward as that same green began to swirl at her
feet, smoke before a raging fire. “Stay with us. She’ll be better with you and
I both to guide her.”
A snarl tore
from Aura’s throat. Flowridia’s grip on her neck tightened.
“No? A pity,”
Mother said, and as she stepped, Flowridia watched her form shift and elongate.
“So much wasted potential.”
Flowridia had
seen hints of Mother’s shadow, one that never quite matched her sultry figure.
Now the woman twisted and grew, her hands gnarling into vicious claws, her skin
shriveling and turning grey. Those eyes, still illuminated by sickly green,
grew large, bird-like. The woman, once beautiful, became hunched.
Flowridia tugged
on Aura’s neck, pulling her to the door, but green fire – the same shade as the
smoke swirling around Mother’s grotesque form – blocked their exit.
Aura tore
herself from Flowridia’s grip, a beastly roar at her throat as she bolted
forward. Leaping, the wolf tackled the monster and ripped at the woman’s face
with her teeth. A swipe of Mother’s mutated hand threw Aura aside. Bleeding,
cackling, Mother pulled herself to her feet in time for Aura to pounce.
This time,
Mother braced herself. Her hands dug into the wolf’s fur and skin, blood
seeping from her nails as Aura struggled in her grasp.
The light
shining from Mother’s eyes changed from green to deep purple, and the smoke
swirled to match. Aura released a pained howl, and Flowridia screamed as the
wolf’s body began to shrivel, withering away as though starved.
On the table, a
knife – encrusted with dried blood – caught her eye. Heart pounding, Flowridia
didn’t think; she grabbed the knife and threw.
Blood sprayed.
The knife embedded into Mother’s throat, soaking Flowridia and the limp wolf in
the monster’s vital fluids.
Mother shrieked,
that same purple glow bursting from the wound, the hilt protruding from beneath
her chin. The smoke, once peaceful, spun into a violent torrent. Aura fell
motionless to the ground as Mother’s cry grew higher, louder. Her clawed hands
shook as she reached toward the knife.
All at once, the
light ceased. Smoke dissipated. Mother fell to the ground, her monstrous form
dissolving into the air. A woman’s corpse, a knife jutting from her throat, lay
in a pool of her own seeping blood.
Flowridia’s sob
cut the taut string of peace. She fell to her knees, giving no mind to how her
skirts absorbed Mother’s blood. Silver fur, stained red, met Flowridia’s
fingers as she desperately pulled Aura’s emaciated form to her lap. The wolf’s
coat, once soft, had become coarse, aged by Mother’s dark magic.
No light in
those golden, clouded eyes. Already, Aura had gone cold. With that came an
awareness of the hollow in Flowridia’s soul. Her familiar, the animal companion
granting her mysterious power, lay dead, and with it her connection to the
world of magic. Muted, all she had worked for; the power she had gained gone
Three years
trapped in hell, but never had she felt so lost. She held Aura’s body to her
chest and wept.
*          *          *
“Here lies Aura
– a friend.”
The words shone
pristine, carved in stone, the last gift she could give her dearest companion.
Content to lie down and starve to death, Flowridia might have lain on the grave
forever had red eyes not shone from the woods.

The demon began
to hunt her then.
About the Author:

S D Simper has lived in both the hottest place on earth and the coldest, spans the employment spectrum from theater teacher to professional editor, and plays more instruments than can be counted on one hand. She and her wife share a home with their two cats and innumerable bookshelves.