BOOK BLITZ w/EXCERPT - CONTEMPORARY - THE MAGICAL LIBRARY (Charmed Love, #4) by Aimee O'Brian

The Magical Library

Charmed Love, #4

by Aimee O’Brian

Publication date: April 16th 2026

Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

BLURB

In the small town of Hazard, the past never stays buried—and love may be the most powerful magic of all.

Whitney Hopewell, Hazard’s newly elected mayor and former librarian, is determined to protect the town she loves. When a smooth Boston developer offers a sleek solution to Hazard’s affordable housing crisis, she’s cautiously hopeful. Derrick Cross is charming, intelligent, and undeniably intriguing. Convincing the local innkeeper to rent him a room feels practical. Helping him with his historical research feels personal.

But Derrick hasn’t come to Hazard to help. He’s returned to settle a centuries-old score. His family’s downfall is tied to the town’s founding, and transforming Hazard’s quaint charm into soulless urban sprawl is his long-planned revenge. Falling for the woman fighting to save it threatens everything.

As Whitney and Derrick grow closer, sensing a deep connection neither can explain, secrets surface. A hidden tunnel, a looming hurricane, and a magical heritage quilt that reveals dreams of true love force them to confront history, heartbreak, and desire.

This enchanting small-town, enemies-to-lovers romance weaves family feuds, magical realism, and heartfelt emotion into a story about forgiveness, fate, and choosing love over vengeance.

Goodreads

Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

EXCERPT

Whitney looked up and up at the tall, dark-eyed man before her, and her heart beat just a tad faster…well, galloped actually, even as she sought to rein in her reaction. What was it about this man?

The man of her dreams.

She shook her head at the thought. Ridiculous! Obviously, she needed more sleep. She drew in a sharp breath and gripped her desk to pull herself together.

“Good afternoon, Mayor Whit.” The quick flash in his dark eyes told her he was mocking her. But to be fair, she had mixed feelings about the moniker she’d been gifted by the town.

She gave a small headshake. “Stop.” She motioned at the guest chair. “Have a seat, Mr. Cross.”

His eyes took in the vinyl-upholstered, armless chair. It wasn’t the most inviting, looking as if it was there by design to discourage lengthy visitations.

With a glance at her, he sat, leaned back, and steepled his fingers.

Aware of his penetrating gaze, Whitney looked down and arranged the papers scattered over her desk into neat little piles. “I haven’t finished studying the bids yet. Your visit is premature.” She swallowed, hard.

He raised a brow.

Whitney cleared her throat. “What I mean…”

“I know exactly what you mean.” He directed his attention on her now neat stacks of documentation. “Do you have any questions? Concerns I might…alleviate?”

Whitney caught her breath and stopped herself from leaning forward. He was being persuasive, cajoling, and for an instant, it had worked.

And that just irked her.

Oh, not that he’d employ tried-and-true sales techniques on her, but that such behavior was beneath him. She recognized in him a strength and a clarity of thought that rivalled her own. The man exuded decisiveness. This conciliatory manner didn’t suit, not at all, and worse, it chafed at her.

Fine…he wanted to play? She would take charge of the meeting. “Tell me why you believe H.A.S. Homes is our best option for the housing mandate?”

He raised a brow and launched, running down the superiority of the company over all others. This was better; biased, certainly, but a presentation of definitive ideas on what H.A.S. would bring to the community of Hazard.

And yet, even when he was outlining all the reasons she should choose his bid over all the others, something tickled the back of her mind until, in a flash, it became clear why it wasn’t quite right. Everything he said only highlighted what Mackenna had called his designs—cookie-cutter. “Your designs are unimaginative.” The words popped out at his pause before she could edit her thoughts. With the words flung out there, his pause lengthened, and Whitney held her breath. Would he fill the silence?

Or should she?

Before she could come up with something to say to lessen the impact of her last comment, he spoke. “Is that what you need? Imagination?” She heard the subtle teasing, as if she had missed entirely what she should have been focused on. “How about, instead,” and now his tone grew serious, “how about homes people can afford?” He had a point, and Whitney was willing to concede him that, but she missed the enthusiasm he had exhibited before, and his next words dampened his entire presentation, as recrimination hovered within them. “This town has imagination to spare. What you need is the practical.”

Did she? Because Whitney felt like she lived her life in the practical and what she craved was creativity. She released a slow sigh. She couldn’t help it. She tried to keep the disappointment off her face. Ah, well, balance then, she thought. What she said was, “Is that right?”

Silence stretched between them.

Whitney felt unbalanced suddenly, talking to him alone in her office. What had been businesslike before now felt intimate, just the two of them intent on each other. She found herself hyperaware of his masculinity, seated as he was, a mere three feet from her on the other side of her teakwood desk. She gave a tiny cough. “Well, I need more time, and the council hasn’t met to discuss the bids yet. We will vote.”

“At the next city council meeting.” His gaze on her was unwavering.

“Of course.”

“In a month.”

She nodded.

“So…”

He was watching her, waiting. She shifted in her chair. Suddenly, despite the air conditioning blasting out of the vents, the room was too warm, the heat of summer overwhelming. She had no idea now what she could give him. It wasn’t her place to make promises on how the council would vote. She…needed a moment. “I’m going to walk to the library and let everything you shared with me settle in. I’ll consider your points and study the bids again tonight.”

“Over dinner?”

Her eyes jerked back up to his, even as they both stood. She placed a hand on her desk to maintain her balance. “Dinner?”

 

Author Info

Having lived in both California and Texas, award-winning author Aimee O’Brian now resides in the beautiful wine country where she writes dark, sexy, funny romance. With her three children grown and experiencing their own adventures, she and her husband are free to explore the world. When she’s not reading, writing, or planting even more flowers in her garden, she can be found stomping through ancient ruins and getting lost in museums.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram / X

GIVEAWAY!
The Magical Library Blitz

Presented by

BOOK BLIZ w/EXCERPT - YA FANTASY - NOCTURNE by Tricia D. Wagner

Nocturne

by Tricia D. Wagner

Publication date: April 14th 2026

Genres: Fantasy, Young Adult

BLURB

In NOCTURNE, sixteen-year-old Livi learns the truth of who she is—a Siren, her people known only to legends. She must learn to master her powers of influence, strength, and destruction to stop a warmongering Admiral from drafting her best friends, capturing and killing her people, and decimating her homeland of Nocturne.

Goodreads

Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

EXCERPT

Livi stood before the tavern’s bleak threshold, its heavy door cobbled of wrecked ships.

She peered through its ragged window, quieting the wiser part of her, an inner voice calling for her to turn back. And truly, she was stunned that she’d mustered the daring to try this.

There were dozens of men here—sailors all brooding over their flagons, many looking to be harboring grudges.

The tavern’s splintery walls were studded with trophies—toothy payaras, dry in their death throes, tacked beneath golden portraits of infamous Korps Mariner ships and their dread captains.

The men frequenting this sand-dusted, fish-pongy tavern—The Orphic, were the sun-beaten sailors and damaged soldiers of Merritaine, mercenaries and relieved fighters who’d reached the shore of old age still breathing.

No one dared step a toe in The Orphic unless he bore epic tales—bloody acts of acclaim on the baleful blue seas.

Many here had killed. Some for honorable causes in noble wars, yes. But they’d killed.

For all their savagery, though, they were brave.

Livi had heard enough stories to understand them as uniformly dauntless and skilled. If anyone could help her skip Merritaine’s coast and reach Nocturne, he’d be drinking here.

Through the brume of pipe smoke, she measured each face for hints of affability. Or at least for traces of good humor—signs that someone might consider her offer. If she could just single out one sailor more approachable than not, perhaps she could move to him unnoticed.

But that wouldn’t happen. Women scarcely set foot here, and sixteen-year-old girls certainly didn’t.

A few of the sailors came across as jovial—but even they harbored an undercurrent of trouble in their looks, their ease striking like a gusty southerly bathing the seaside, forecasting a typhoon’s assault.

The afternoon seemed all at once to grow late, a shaft of misted sunlight sluicing through the windows and casting the place in watery relief.

In fixing on that panorama of ocean, Livi could almost see Nocturne’s peaks in the deep west, its moonstone shores marbled with the shadowy ash given by its volcanic chain.

Those heights, she had to reach. For it was said that Nocturne’s high places were hived with sea caves—chambers shining with waters rumored to have healing properties.

Some believed those springs could stave off even death.

Livi eased from her jacket a small jar of pearls, each perfect, as plump as a blueberry—these a mere sampling of the trove she’d collected. They ought to be more than enough to buy passage to Nocturne from someone here bearing the skill, and the gall, and the ship, and the time to set sail for the Isles, along with some assurance that he could ferry her through storms, over waters where lurked sharks and killer whales and squids that tore up boats, and finally beyond the dread Maelstroms.

Livi had imagined this moment many times—making her bold approach in The Orphic, striking a deal. She’d imagined that arriving at this brink would feel like the onset of her escape.

But in finally standing here, readying to approach men alleged to be the most barbarous in Merritaine, the idea seemed beyond reckless.

Célian, her best friend—maybe more—would be sick at the thought of her here. And truly, in darkening this threshold, she felt she was skimming the rim of the Maelstroms, those great whirlpools unceasing in their churning, twisting what strayed near straight down in a tempest, claiming ships and seafarers alike as a part of themselves.

The bright Merrow Ocean glinting in, though, delivered some steadfastness. For at the sight of its rolling, Livi could gather a sense of what it might feel like, teaming with someone here, cruising on his scabrous ship to the treacherous west.

A man seated at the tavern’s back corner stood out a touch.

He looked a decade younger than the rest, and he had all his limbs, which was saying something. He seemed not resentful, or affable, or angry—just somber. His solemnity made it clear that he wanted to be left to himself.

But it also lent an impression of patience. Maybe he’d listen.

She edged open the tavern’s door and crept in. She eased behind a column in the entryway and held still.

She’d have to get to the somber man quick. If she drew too much attention, the barkeep—a tall man, his eyes sharp to check all the action, his manner busy and swift with his bottles—would cast her out before she could lay down one word of her offer.

Or worse—he’d let the men handle the disruption.

Livi stepped from the shade, into the amber light of the tavern.

 

Author Bio:

As a young reader, writers were like gods and goddesses to now author Tricia D. Wagner. She never could have imagined weaving tales like her favorite storytellers, until a fateful April dinner conversation with her husband about a lecture he attended got her mind whirling. By the end of that summer, she’d written 400,000 words: a speculative fiction trilogy. Wagner felt as if she’d emerged from a cocoon as some new sort of creature. She was hooked.

It was important to Tricia to sharpen her skills, and she immersed herself in workshops, guides, and writing communities, learning from editors how to hone her craft. She did this for years, and the result is her newly released novella The Strider and the Regulus, two independently published novelettes, four soon-to-be published novellas, and five as yet unpublished novels. She found writing to be a method for becoming the person she felt she was born to be. Wagner finds that writing inspires her to be a better person, truer to herself.

The ideas and substance of Tricia’s writing comes from a very deep place that is strongly stimulated by setting. Often, when she has completed a story, she feels as if she’s been to her story world, whether it’s on the map or not. She likes to believe all the places she writes about exist somewhere, somehow.

In writing her stories, Wagner was surprised and delighted to discover how real the characters become to an author; that for many writers, their characters end up as their most treasured friends. She loves to delve into them to mine their natures, secrets, and desires—to tell their stories with the legitimacy they deserve. In studying her characters, she finds she has the opportunity to shape herself, inching closer to the person she wants to become.

Wagner believes revision is magical in its power to make a good book great, and early drafts are only the beginning of a story’s journey. Any idea can wind up a good story, but with reflection and time and improvement, it can become art. Once Wagner completes a revision project, it feels miraculous how many fresh approaches have manifested and how much truer the story feels.

Wagner hopes her readers feel enchanted when they read her stories; that after completing one, it seems they’re drifting out from under a spell. This is exactly how she feels when she finishes writing a story. She hopes to that her writing might expand their minds, spirits, and worlds a bit, and she hope they fall in love with her characters and are moved by her artistry of language.

When she isn’t writing poignant works of literary fiction, Wagner is a Director of Adult Education – ESL Programs at a community college, a job and staff that she loves. In her spare time she enjoys refining her writing craft to discover new angles and landscapes that might enrich her writing palette. One such example is a recent course she took in learning to read ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs, something that’s sure to end up in a story at some point. Wagner lives in Rockford, Illinois, with her husband and three darling cats.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram / X

GIVEAWAY!
Nocturne Blitz

Presented by

AUDIOBOOK SPOTLIGHT - YA HISTORIAL - THEA by Genevieve Morrissey Narrator Nicole Fikes

Poverty, prejudice, her mother’s addiction…in her quest for an education, 15-year-old Thea tries to navigate them all. But will a secret ultimately undermine her efforts?

Thea
by Genevieve Morrissey
Narrated by Nicole Fikes
Genre: YA Historical Fiction, Coming of Age

2025 Page Turner Book Award winner for Best Historical Fiction & Character Architect Award

 

Oklahoma City, 1925

Fifteen-year-old Thea Carter lives in a small garage apartment—Thea’s seventh “home” in four years—provided by her alcoholic mother’s employer, the morose and enigmatic Dr. Hallam.

School is Thea’s refuge and she’s an excellent student, but the parasitic Mrs. Carter’s instability continually threatens her dream of getting a high school diploma. In an effort to keep her mother employed and the two of them housed, Thea secretly takes on much of her mother’s work while at the same time navigating adolescence, friendships, and first love.

Dr. Hallam, impressed by her drive and intelligence, becomes Thea’s unexpected ally, but in addition to wealth and position, the doctor also has a secret that could ruin him, and shatter his bond with Thea.

 

"Morrissey crafts a wise and moving coming-of-age historical novel with resonant contemporary themes, meticulous period detail, and flawed but sympathetic characters who will win readers’ hearts… Lovers of historical fiction and coming-of-age stories will relish time spent with Thea." —BookLife 'Editor's Pick' review

"Thea is a coming-of-age tale with a lot of heart and charm… Morrissey's characters truly leap off the pages." —Readers' Favorite review

"The story is one of friendship and found family, with a heartwarming conclusion… THEA is a moving historical coming-of-age novel whose characters' compassion and empathy inspires.” —IndieReader review 

**Now available as an audiobook!**

Audible * Amazon ebook * Bookbub * Goodreads

Thea is the new historical novel by Genevieve Morrissey, author of the award-winning Marriage & Hanging and the popular Antlands science fiction series. She is an avid student of British and American social history who, through one of those strange little quirks of fate, spends most of her days talking with scientists. In addition to writing, Genevieve enjoys reading obscure books, travel, and solitude.

Website * Facebook * X * Instagram * Bluesky * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads

 

Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

Enter the Thea Audiobook Giveaway Here

Presented by

SPOTLIGHT - PARANORMAL SUSPENSE - ADVERSE REACTIONS by Deborah J. Lightfoot

When your mind makes you the enemy, either your mind must die, or you will. 

Unless yours is the mind they can’t break.

Adverse Reactions
by Deborah J. Lightfoot
Genre: Dystopian Paranormal Suspense

Purity demands a bullet. Devin brings a reckoning.

Since she was six years old, Devin Perridin has been locked behind the walls of the family home to keep her hidden from those who would kill her. But at sixteen, she is exposed as a "Syke," one of an outlawed minority who possess extraordinary powers of mind over matter. Snatched from hiding, she escapes the firing squad, but only to be imprisoned in a house of horrors: the Peaceful Hills Sanatorium and Rehabilitation Center for the Treatment of Persistent Mental Disorders. After an unknown time of torture and "behavior modification," brutally designed to destroy her psychokinetic reflexes, she emerges from the asylum severely damaged in mind and spirit. Her salvation may lie in the series of crimes triggered by her release: first kidnapping, then attempted murder, and then a mustering of forbidden forces to assault the remote pseudo-psychiatric facility where she had been tortured into near-mindlessness.

Drawing upon a strength she had always known was hers but had never before been able to consciously control, Devin defies the authoritarian society with its unjust laws that demand her death. She pushes through pain, isolation, and moral quandaries to seek justice for not only herself, but all members of a maligned and cruelly persecuted minority. A post-apocalyptic, paranormal allegory for the times in which we live.

When your mind makes you the enemy, either your mind must die, or you will. Unless yours is the mind they can't break.

 

“This novel is immediately immersive, with an opening scene that sucks readers in with vivid sensory detail and a great sense of suspense.” —The Black List

“What a story! I was picked up from the first page and you never let me go thereafter. The premise is original … compelling … convincing.” —ARC Reader

“A very enjoyable read. Excellent pacing. Immersive language. Polished, effortless writing. I’d love to see a prequel (or three)!” —ARC Reader

“Relevant to the current situation in the world. Ostracizing others who are different out of fear and ignorance. Cruelty and inhumanity.” —ARC Reader

“Believable and relatable.” —The Black List

“Thematically rich, as Devin faces constant self-doubt but eventually comes to find empowerment in the unique abilities that have made her an outcast.” —The Black List

**Get it #OnSale for only $1.99 4/21 – 4/24!**

Amazon * Apple * B&N * Kobo * Bookshop.org * Smashwords * Bookbub * Goodreads

Chapter 1

 

VAPORS BILLOWED INTO the chamber in thick masses of orange. Devin choked on the sickly sweet odor.

“Don’t fight it, child,” came the voice—equally cloying—from the darkness beyond the floodlit, glass-walled chamber. “Give yourself up to it.”

The gas surged into Devin’s face, blinding, gagging her. She made it go away. By force of will, a moment’s mental reflex, she flung it back.

Fresh air flooded her nostrils and drove out the syrupy stink. She sucked in a cool, clean breath.

“No!” snapped the voice, crackling with amplified static. “You must not.”

The therapist dropped her with two thousand volts. Devin collapsed to the chamber’s floor, her body jerking, her nerves on fire. The pain was beyond enduring. A pain this intense must be lethal. But she did not die. As she convulsed, her muscles knotted in spasms, she could not scream. No part of her, not even her voice, was under her voluntary control.

“Try it again, child.” Smooth and saccharine once more, her unseen therapist spoke from the concealing shadows as the shock ended and Devin’s pain faded. “Stand up,” the torturer ordered. “And this time, do not fight it. Or your punishment will be the same: swift, sure, and severe.”

Devin struggled upright. She had to brace against the curved glass wall of the gas chamber to keep on her feet. Her muscles had melted from knots into jelly.

An orange cloud flooded the chamber and filled her nose with the stink of rotting fruit.

“Breathe it,” her therapist instructed. “You must.”

But again, Devin reacted by instinct alone. No conscious thought interposed between stimulus and response. The cloud approached; she pushed it away. Pure reflex, action of mind: act of self-preservation. The gas held back, suspended in midair, blocked by the power of her impulse.

On the instant, thousands of volts knocked her to the floor. Pain engulfed Devin, such a pain as must be lethal but wouldn’t do her the service of killing her. She writhed, silent and barely conscious.

Her therapist withdrew the punishment. Devin remained on the floor of the isolation chamber, curled in the fetal position, her long brown hair covering her face. Her body was hers to command once more, but her muscles had no strength to obey.

“You give new meaning to the word persistent, don’t you, girl?” muttered the disembodied voice. Then, more forcefully: “The first step toward healing is to admit you are diseased, Miss Perridin. You have an illness. A mental disorder. I am offering you the cure—in a pleasant aerosol spray that you need only breathe. Once inhaled, the drug acts quickly, and its effects are lasting. But you must take the first step and acknowledge that you want to be cured.”

The voice grew soft, sugary. “Child, for as long as you hold to the notion—the mistaken notion—that your disorder is in some way a strength or a benefit to you, you will continue to fail. And you will suffer the consequences of that failure. We can’t have that, can we?”

Devin gathered the remnants of her strength and rolled onto her back. To stand was impossible; she could barely shape a word.

“No,” she whispered.

She wasn’t speaking to her tormentor.

But: “That’s the spirit!” the therapist responded, sounding genuinely enthused. “Now we try again. Take your medicine like a good girl.”

The orange stink flowed in at the top of the chamber. Devin, lying face up, watched through the curtain of her hair as the cloud descended. She had time to ward it off, to make it go away. But in the soul of her being, nothing sparked. Her reflexes, her instincts, failed to respond. What had been a spontaneous force of mind over matter could offer no resistance.

Devin’s mouth filled with the sickening taste of defeat. The orange cloud enveloped her, a sticky weight, and she choked down lungfuls.

“Wonderful!” her therapist exclaimed. “My dear, I couldn’t be more pleased. This is the tipping point. Your recovery will be much easier from now on, I promise.”

Devin breathed the sickly sweet drug and felt the core of her mind go dead.

Then came the retching. Her body contorted in gut-shredding paroxysms as the drug made her vomit—or attempt to vomit. Her keepers had starved her for so long, her stomach had nothing to bring up. The dry heaves racked her with such violence that she could not breathe. After long moments, unconsciousness brought relief.

Castles in the cornfield provided the setting for Deborah J. Lightfoot’s earliest flights of fancy. On her father’s farm in Texas, she grew up reading tales of adventure and reenacting them behind ramparts of sun-drenched grain. She left the farm to earn a degree in journalism and write award-winning books of history and biography. High on her bucket list was the desire to try her hand at the genre she most admired. The result is Waterspell, a multi-layered fantasy series about a girl and the wizard who suspects her of being so dangerous to his world, he believes he’ll have to kill her … which troubles him, since he’s fallen in love with her.

Website * Facebook * Instagram * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads

Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

Enter the Adverse Reactions Giveaway Here

Presented by

PREORDER - CONTEMPORARY - BEAK INSIDE (Riot MC Next Generation) by Karen Renee

Break Inside

Riot MC Next Generation

by Karen Renee

Release Date: April 21st 2026

Cover Design: Bee at Bitter Sage Designs

Cover Model: Draven

Photographer: CJC Photography

Genre: MC Romance

Ivy

Hunting down my biological father wasn’t supposed to lead me to a broody, sexy, triplet biker.

Ryan “Nickel” Garrison ticks all of my boxes, but he prevents me from talking to my bio ‘dad.’

Determined to outsmart Nickel, I never expected to be cornered at gunpoint…or for the sexy biker to put himself between me and the gunman.

We’re captured, knocked out, and taken miles away.

Stranded in the middle of nowhere, Nickel and I work together to escape, only things go from bad to worse.

The threat looms and Nickel insists on keeping me safe even if it means I’m thrust into the world of the Riot Motorcycle Club.

I have no choice but to trust Nickel and his club to neutralize the danger.

Soon I realize, the biggest threat isn’t from criminals, it’s from a man who will break inside my heart.

                                                       

Karen Renee is the author of the Riot Motorcycle Club, Beta, and O-Town series of books. She once crunched Nielsen ratings data but these days she brings her imagination to life by writing books. She has wanted to be a writer since she was very young, but it's taken the last twenty plus years for her to amass enough courage and overall life experience to bring that dream to life. Some of those life experiences came from the wonderful world of advertising, banking, and local television media research. She is a proud wife and mother, and a Jacksonville native. When she's not at the soccer field or cooking, you can find her at her local library, the grocery store, in her car jamming out to some tunes, or hibernating while she writes and/or reads books.

HOSTED BY:

Presented by