SPOTLIGHT w/INTERVIEW - PARANORMAL - RUNNING WITH THE ORC by Loretta Kendall

Running with the Orc

by Loretta Kendall

Date of Publication: May 15th 2026

Publisher: Loretta Kendall

Cover Artist: LK Creative Designs

Genre: Monster Romance

ISBN: 9798234054067

Number of pages: 244

Word Count: 75,000

BLURB

Daisy survived two years in orc captivity with one rule: Don't get caught during the run. 

Sassy burlesque comedian, Daisy LaRue, always believed her orc captors kidnapped their pretty victims for nefarious reasons. Humans, fairies, pixies, and other beautiful beings, all taken from their homes and forced to survive in a world built on a brutal game of hunter and the hunted. 

But do the orcs want them for lunch… or love? 

When Daisy is finally caught during the orcs' quarterly run, she discovers the so-called monstrous men might not be the villains she pegged them to be. The one who caught her may turn from enemy to temptation. 

In a world where nothing feels certain, she’ll face a battle far darker than captivity when her captor, Commander Bramwell Grognak, reveals the truth of a twisted history built on the study of eugenics. With the handsome orc at her side, Daisy takes a stand against the hidden evils of a society once built on honor and tradition. 

As love becomes the greatest challenge they face, this world may be worth fighting for.

Amazon     BN

Running with the Orc: Excerpt
“Might as well get comfortable. We’ll be here a while.”
“You saved my life,” I blurted out. I was shocked to even say it as we settled into the cave, rain pouring down outside.
He didn’t say anything, but the knowing glance he gave me almost seemed sincere. “What good would you be to me dead?”
This asshole. “Wow. Such chivalry.”
“What do you want me to say? You’re sitting there thinking right now of a way out of this, so you don’t become my next dinner option. So what’s it going to be? Take my sword and slit my throat this time? Maybe take my other eye?”
“You act like the eye thing is worse than death.”
He shrugged, poking at the fire with a stick. “Sometimes it’s hard to see that death isn’t such a bad option.”
“That’s a little dark, don’t you think?”
“So is thinking a man’s goal in life is making a meal of you.”
He had a point. I wasn’t exactly sunshine and lollipops over all this. “You can’t blame me for being cynical. You kidnap us from our homes and force us into this barbaric game of hide and seek. Excuse me if I’m not grateful.”
He actually chuckled at that. “I guess you’re right. But not everything is as dire as you may see right now. You never know. You might enjoy being eaten, little taste.”
“You’re an ass.”
“And you’re still blushing that I mentioned it.” He sat back, resting his head on the wall with a smirk as the flame lit his beautiful face with ironic glory.

“Sometimes I really hate you.”

Author Info

Best-selling, award-winning romance author Loretta Kendall is an Indiana girl at heart, splitting time between writing steamy, swoon-worthy love stories and keeping up with her comedic sidekick husband. When she’s not lost in a world of words, she’s probably in the movie theater watching the latest release or trying to keep her poor, defenseless Venus flytrap plants alive. ~ RIP Molly Sue, Poe, and the twins.

Outside of writing, Loretta has a soft spot for vintage horror monsters, pinup fashion, and multimedia art. As a former pageant queen, celebrity makeup artist, photographer, and talent agent spanning twenty-two years in fashion and entertainment, her life experience gives a unique spin on her stories and their lively characters. 

Loretta’s love for storytelling shines through in every book, blending real love with the perfect touch of comedy, glamour, and outright chaos to captivate her readers.

The Book Junkie Reads . . . Interview with . . . Loretta Kendall . . . 

How would you describe your style of writing to someone that has never read your work?

Unhinged chaos with a sprinkle of snark, love, and laughter mixed in. I love a misunderstood character with a bit of sass, and I push for my monster heroines to be independent with hearts of gold. Even when finding love, they aren’t the typical damsels in distress. They’re often rabble-rousers who give their love interests a run for their money.

I also love writing imperfect people in unexpected circumstances. Monster romance became the perfect genre for me to express how those who are different can still be beautiful in their own ways. After all, normal is boring.

By the end of my stories, I hope readers fall in love with my crazy characters’ quirks and root for them to find love.

Have you found yourself bonding with any particular character(s)? If so, which one(s)? 

Most recently, burlesque comedian Daisy LaRue from my newest novel, Running with the Orc. Despite being a prisoner to the orc hoard and a world she couldn’t escape, she found ways to keep her head up and find laughter in the darkest of times. She uses the skills of her career as a way of survival by entertaining the orc warlords. With danger lurking around every turn, she pulls out her biggest weapon, sarcasm and sass, to make her a strong leader for others in her camp to begin a rebellion. She’s a fighter where most people would find defeat. 

I believe people who can still keep a smile on their face, despite how grim their circumstance my be, are the strongest among us. Daisy certainly fits that role. 

Do you have a character that you have been working on that you can't wait to put to paper?

To keep the vibe of my previous Ghouls and Gals Series, I’ll be rolling out a swamp monster woman that will be unapologetically fierce. I’ve not hashed out all the details, but Rebel will be a bad girl with a flair for getting herself into trouble. I hope she’ll be as wild and rowdy as I plan her to be. Despite how her character arc unfolds, it will be all the drama with classic monster fun thrown in.  

Can you share your next creative project(s)? If yes, can you give a few details?

I’m currently writing a ghost romance novella that will be free to read on my website, coming this spring/summer. It was a side project before I dived back into creating a new series of monster madness.

In the coming novella, Cherry Adler was the star dancer of the Cherry Bomb, an 80s family-owned nightclub. After she’s met with an untimely death, years later, the club’s newest handsome DJ, Thorne Sterling, will be the only person who can solve a decades-long cold case. The beautiful ghost haunting the club leads him on a dance he’ll never forget in a pop culture-themed spicy romance with a lot of mystery. 

This rom-com will prove that even in death, Cherry still knows how to steal the spotlight and get her man. 

 

What are some of your writing/publishing goals for this year?

After finishing the Cherry Bomb novella, I plan to work on a spin-off standalone collection that follows the world within the Ghouls and Gals Series. So far, the stories will add to the Horror Earth universe with a matchmaking trope that I think will be fun for readers to sink their teeth into. The I ❤︎ Monsters collection will follow three ladies on the search for love in a world where monsters and humans collide.

Thank you Loretta Kendall for joining and giving a little insight to you and your process. Your work is appreciated.

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Tour Giveaway 

1- Book box giveaway of a signed copy of the 

printed edge edition with bookish merch 

Must sign up for Loretta’s newsletter between 

May 15th -22nd at www.lorettakendall.com  

Winner will be announced May 23rd 

on her blog, Facebook, and Instagram 

through a random drawing. 

(Must be in the US to enter) 

SPOTLIGHT w/INTERVIEW - SUPERNATURAL THRILLER - THE GREAT DICK AND THE DYSFUNCTIONAL DEMON by Barry Maher

The Great Dick and the Dysfunctional Demon

by Barry Maher

Date of Publication: 09/2025

Publisher: Crystal Lake Publishing

Genre: Supernatural Thriller

ISBN: 978-1968532130

ASIN: B0FKWK2K7C

Number of pages: 464

Word Count: 125,000

Tagline: A wickedly funny, dark humor. supernatural thriller, blending horror with a thrilling murder mystery.

BLURB

It’s 1982. Steve Witowski was once a hero. Now he’s simply a failed songwriter, running from the law. Worse, he’s just killed a man—while almost accidentally saving a woman from what seemed to be the strongest, most blood-thirsty wino in California. 

He should keep moving. But the woman, Victoria, is beyond stunning. Steve stays. And Victoria becomes just a part of a mystery he can’t unravel. Even as the face of the man he just killed slowly, gradually appears on his arm. And what starts out as a gritty crime story spirals into what author David Moody called, “A chillingly funny, hot, sweaty, magic and murder infused rollercoaster.” Complete with open crypts, dark spells, sudden death, and forces more powerful and demonic than Steve understands. Where nothing is what it seems. And Steve may be the next victim.

Amazon

Excerpt 
Back in the 60s . . .
 
On Wednesday October 13^th, 1968, a faculty panel recommended the dismissal of Professor John Harris—in absentia, as no one at Harvard had seen or heard from him in weeks. Harris later bragged about delivering his final lecture on “one shitload and a half of LSD.” According to the recording made available to the faculty panel, this was the sum total of that lecture:
 
“Good afternoon. Wow. American Literature, hunh? Let’s see. Moby Dick today. Right?”
 “Moby Dick?” asked a confused voice. “No. What happened to The Scarlet Letter?”
 “Right. Moby Dick,” Harris continued. “Great book. None of you have read it. None of you are going to read it. Nobody ever does. What you need to understand is that as far as I’m concerned—and I’m the fucking professor—Moby Dick is the same story as The Great Gatsby, which some of you may read. I call it, ‘the half-assed struggle of the individual to put their world to rights in the face of a failure that threatens to define their life.’ I think that’s from my thesis. Though maybe it’s not pretentious enough.”
Harris laughed. “Hey! How about this? Great Gatsby/Moby Dick: same story, different era, right? So, if someone someday tries to write that story for this generation, they should call it The Great Dick. That’d be perfect, wouldn’t it? The Great Dick. Alright, that’s got to be almost fifty minutes. See you next . . . whenever. Wow.”
 
 

SUNDAY, MARCH 21, 1982

Two Women and One Corpse

“Any fool can tell the truth, but it requires a man of some sense to lie well.”

                           —Samuel Johnson

 

CHAPTER 1
  
            Okay, let me start out by admitting that I was an asshole. I know that. The ludicrous amount of fame and acclaim and money I’ve had dumped on me since that time only makes it more glaring. The fact that we lived in a different world back in 1982 is no excuse. It was the same world. It just wasn’t the world we thought it was.
            I remember it was a Sunday night. Sundays always feel different. Looking back now and Googling a 1982 calendar, I’d guess it was Sunday, March 21^st. I remember waking up and within minutes making the decision to leave. Quickly, before I could change my mind, I eased myself out of the rickety hide‑a‑bed.
            Immediately, Maria rolled over into the spot I'd just vacated, breathing loudly through her nose and mouth, not quite snoring. I hate to say it, but she looked every minute of her thirty years. Her thick dark hair clung damply to her face; her heavy arms stretched outward. The cast on her left wrist looked like a giant manacle.
The grandfather clock beside the cigar store Indian read 1:37, though a few minutes before, it had chimed four times. That made as much sense as anything else in my life. I was thirty-five years old, a Harvard grad who’d spent the previous two years faking his way through a $13,500 a year job as an territory rep for the Richmond Tobacco company. That $13,500 was the most money I’d ever made. You’re probably thinking that when you adjust for inflation and translate that $13,500 into today’s dollars, it’s a lot more impressive.
No, it’s not.
I slipped on my jersey and my jeans and gathered the rest of my things in my old gym bag. Fortunately, enough moonlight crept in around the edges of the tattered drapes to give the room a dim glow. I wondered if it would be safe to hitchhike out of there, or if Indiana had already notified the California Highway Patrol that I was wanted.
My situation was bad. But not bad enough to, say, crawl into a grave with a rotting corpse.

That would come later.

 

Author Info

Barry Maher may be the only horror novelist who’s ever appeared in the pages of Funeral Service Insider. In his misspent youth, his articles appeared in perhaps a hundred different publications and, in order to eat, he held nearly that many different jobs. Sometimes he lived on the beach. Not in a house on the beach. On the beach. With the sand and the seagulls. 

Then he started telling his stories to audiences. More important, he started telling his stories to audiences and charging. That took him all over the country and around the world: his client list a Who’s Who of leading corporations, associations and cruise lines. You may have seen Barry on The Today Show, CNN, CBS or CNBC, or read about him in The New York Times, The Wall Street Journal, USA Today or in his own, Slightly Off-Kilter syndicated column.

On the downside, he’s also been incarcerated twice. Once for not making a left hand turn out of a left hand turn lane, and once for aiding and abetting a loiterer. 

He’s deeply repentant. 

Author Interview

1: Tell us a little about yourself and what got you in to writing?

I’m Barry Maher and I may be the only horror novelist who’s ever appeared in the pages of Funeral Service Insider. In my misspent youth, my articles were featured in perhaps a hundred different publications and, in order to eat, I held nearly that many different jobs. Sometimes he lived on the beach. Not in a house on the beach. On the beach. With the sand and the seagulls. 

Three hours into a truly excremental job—standing on a roof in the rain, holding the frayed cord of a toilet de-rooter—I thought I’d hit on a way for my writing to support me. I’d simply write a best-selling, critically-acclaimed novel. Think Sherlock Holmes meets Hamlet, if Ophelia was oversexed, homicidal and undead.

Surprisingly (to me anyway) that plot didn’t work out. But it got me to quit the rooter company. And it did lead to my first novel, which led to me being able to write and to actually afford food, which led ultimately To the Great Dick: And the Homicidal Demon. Which led to me doing this interview for author Anthony Avin.

2: Do you have a favourite time and place where you write?

Yes, my favorite time to write is when I’m awake. I get up, exercise a bit, have breakfast, then I sit down and write until lunch. After lunch, I write until dinner. Nowadays I write on my laptop in a lounge chair, looking out over Santa Barbara and the ocean and the beach which was once the only bedroom I could afford. I’ve been very lucky.

3: Where do your ideas come from?

Asia.

4: Seriously?

    That’s the short answer. The long answer is that I was speaking on an Asian cruise when I realized I could no longer figure out what the hands of the clock meant. The next day, during a presentation I introduced the ship’s captain. Twenty minutes later I picked him out of the audience and asked him what he did for a living. (The uniform did look a tad familiar.) That same day, I gave up trying to understand foreign currency. Even American money was getting tricky. In Viet Nam, I handed a vendor two hundreds and a five for a $7.00 baseball cap. It was a very nice cap.

Back home, the first thing my doctor did was have me draw a clock face at ten to three. The second thing he did was take away my driver’s license. Then he sent me for an immediate MRI. The nurse there wouldn’t comment on the results, but when I asked where the restroom was, she said, “I can’t let you go in there alone.”

I explained that bathroom visitation was a particular expertise of mine. 

“Like telling time?” she asked. “You need to talk to your neurosurgeon.”

“I have a neurosurgeon?” Just what I always wanted.

I also had a brain tumor—the size of a basketball. Or maybe the neurosurgeon said “baseball.” I wasn’t tracking too well at that point. Still, I quickly grasped he was planning on carving open my skull with a power saw. 

“I don’t really need to tell time,” I said. “Or I can just buy a digital watch.”

Everyone said my neurosurgeon—or, as I thought of him, “Chainsaw Charlie”—was brilliant. My problem was that I’ve spent my life around intelligent people, and I’ve always believed human intelligence was overrated. To me, on a scale of everything there is to know in the universe, the main difference between Einstein and Koko the Wonder Chimp was that Einstein couldn’t pick up bananas with his feet. (As far as I know.)  

Still, I went under the knife—or in this case, the power saw.  Maybe I had a seizure. The doctors weren’t sure. That might explain what happened. Because I came out of the surgery with Lady Gaga singing non-stop in my head and an unforgettably vivid story, like a memory of something that I’d just witnessed. 

Reacting to the intrusion, I suppose my brain could have given me a dream or a story, maybe even Citizen Kane or a nice rom/com or a few episodes of Seinfeld. But no, my got open crypts, bizarre spells, sudden death and the Ralph Lauren version of the Manson Family. “How did my operation go? Well, I’m doing well, but the people in my head—or wherever they were—they went through Hell.” 

Lady Gaga went away after a day or so. But the story stayed with me. And when I was able, I spent a couple of years putting it all down, working it out, trying to get it just right. And that became The Great Dick: And the Dysfunctional Demon. 

And with the cancer in remission, I’ve even lived to see the book published

4: Do you have a plan in your head of where the story is going before you start writing or do you let it carry you along as you go?

In the case of The Great Dick: And the Dysfunctional Demon, because of the way the story came to me, I knew exactly where it was going. The details and the characterization weren’t all there of course but the basic story was. 

5: What genre are your books and what drew you to that genre?

I think of the Great Dick: And the Dystfunctional Demon as suspense/horror or supernatural suspense. But it also centers around a mystery. So maybe it’s a suspense/horror/mystery. 

6: What dream cast would you like to see playing the characters in your latest book?

    Timothée Chalamet would be perfect for the main character, the guy who calls himself Steve Witowski. But if someone was willing to make the book into a movie, I’d be happy to accept Danny Devito, Roseann Barr or Donald Duck.

7: Do you read much and if so who are your favourite authors?

I read a lot. And I read everybody. I was thrilled that one of my favorite authors, Gayle Lynds, agreed to read and then endorse The Great Dick: And the Dysfunctional Demon (My brag is that fifteen authors of that caliber provided advance raves for the book.. I never miss a chance to drop that into the conversation. You’re lucky this is the first time I’ve mentioned it in this interview.) 

Other favorites of mine include Peter Straub, Edgar Allan Poe, Anne Rice, Tom Wolfe and Saki (H.H. Monroe). Saki’s writing has been described as “witty, mischievous and sometime macabre” and that’s exactly what I try to do. 

8: What book/s are you reading at present?

Like I said, I read everything. At the moment, I’ve got Stephen King’s Bag of Bones on my phone and at home I’m reading John Grisham’s The Litigators. 

9: What is your favourite book and why?

That’s a great question. No matter how you spell it, I don’t think I have a favorite book. 

10: What advice would you give for someone thinking about becoming a writer?

Write. Turn on your computer or pick up you pen or finger paint it on the wall, but write. Being a writer is a job and you should treat it that way. Write and then rewrite. Then rewrite again. That’s the only way you get better.

If you wait around for inspiration, you’re still going to be waiting while thousands, literally thousands of other writers, are finishing their books. 

11: What are the best Social Media Sites for people to find out about you and your work?  

On X I’m @barrymaher On Bluesky it’s: @barrymaher.bsky.social

Newsletter: www.barrymaher.com
 
X: https://x.com/barrymaher
Bluesky: https://bsky.app/profile/barrymaher.bsky.social
LinkedIn:  https://www.linkedin.com/in/barry-maher-a629212/
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/barry.maher.98/ 
 
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/barrymaher3/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/232546.Barry_Maher 

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COVER REVEAL - CONTEMPORARY - BURNING FOR YOU by Kasie Haley

Burning For You

by Kasie Haley

Publication date: July 24th 2026

Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

BLURB

Lainey Wells hasn’t returned home to Tennessee in ten years. When her Grandpa passes away, she’s the only one left to help take care of her Grandma and keep her safe. Returning to a town where everyone hates her and calls her a murderer is her worst nightmare, and she doesn’t plan to stay. Not unless someone from her past can convince her.

Casey Richards isn’t afraid of anything. He’s not afraid of fighting in wars overseas, and certainly not running into burning buildings. Firefighting is his biggest passion in life, except for one other thing. Lainey Wells, the girl he has loved since they were kids. Ten years have passed since they’ve seen each other and when she suddenly returns, it’s his chance to convince her to stay.

Happiness has not come easily for either of them. Will he ever be able to make her stop blaming herself for what happened in their past? Lainey knows that staying could be dangerous, but Casey is ready to go to war for her.

Will they get their second chance, or will they burn out?

 

Author Info

Hi! I'm Kasie. I'm 28 and from Saint Louis, Missouri. My home is full of lots of laughter with 5 kiddos, 2 dogs and 2 cats. Plus some animals with scales. I love writing to release stress and have fun! I hope you love my books!

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BOOK BLITZ w/EXCERPT - ROM-COM - MR. EMOTIONALLY UNSTABLE (The Seattle Svenssons, #3) by Alina Jacobs

Mr. Emotionally Unstable: A Romantic Comedy

by Alina Jacobs

Publication date: May 5th 2026

Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance

BLURB

Someone is breaking into my house… and cleaning my kitchen.
At first, I think I’ve lost my mind. Then I decide it’s kinda nice—until the death threats start.

But worrying about stalkers is for people with disposable time.
Which I do not have, thanks to my entire family showing up unannounced to move in with me.
Yay! Surprise houseguests!

As a mature adult woman in her thirties, my stalker is the closest thing to a relationship I’ve had in years. No one’s lining up for a curvy woman with a bad attitude, bras with holes in them, and zero tolerance for man-children.
And no, Mom, I don’t need you giving my number to every creepy guy you meet at the grocery store.
I’m perfectly happy being single. I have my café, my neurotic overweight border collie, and the shadowy figure peering into my window. I don’t need a man.
Except… I do need to find my newly single little sister a boyfriend-slash-meal-ticket so she (and the rest of my houseguests) will move out.
I’d toss her to my mystery stalker, but he did my laundry, and I’m not ready to give up on those perks yet. Besides, I’ve already got the perfect man for her: billionaire, hot, and way out of my league.
Better yet, I no longer have a crush on him, at least not since Fitzgerald Svensson served me eviction papers with a side of insults disguised as flirting.

Now he keeps showing up at my sister’s dates.
Yes, it’s a group activity. We’re recreating our toxic childhood dynamics here, m’kay?
Which means he must be interested… right?
Only problem—he’s hanging around me instead of her.

But it’s an even bigger problem when I wake up one night pinned by a six-foot-five male with his hand over my mouth, his knee spreading my legs, whispering in my ear, “Surprise, Creampuff.”

This is a standalone romantic comedy with a food delivery addicted dog, a hilarious Granny and a heroine of a certain age who has lowered her standards. HEA guaranteed!

Goodreads

Amazon

EXCERPT

I follow their horrified gaze. “Creampuff,” I say, voice low, jaw locked so tight it might crack, “you sicced your granny on me? And here I thought you liked me.”

I’m not flirting.

I’m furious.

Because my lobby—my tower—is full of topless senior citizens with knitting needles, terrifying half my hotel clients. I take pride in my hotels. French antiques sourced myself, bespoke carpeting, and my hand-selected marble foyer backdrop a dozen bare breasts swaying like revolutionary flags.

“I’ve cast three hundred stitches of rage!” her grandmother roars, holding up a half-finished scarf like a battle banner.

“Get rid of them,” I snarl at her.

Winnie takes a nervous step back, eyes wide.

Good—she should be nervous.

“You stole my café,” she fires at me.

“And you threw coffee on me.” My voice is cold. Sharp. “Get these women out of my tower. Now.”

She hesitates. Like she’s considering taking their side.

Of course she is.

“Maybe they have a point,” she mutters.

I stare at her.

“Are you going to whip your shirt off and join them?” I snap.

Her face goes strawberry-jam red as my eyes drag—slowly—from her chest back to her mouth.

Her breath catches.

I feel it.

I ignore it.

“I wouldn’t. This is—we’re in public.”

I give her a sharp smile. “Do that,” I offer, “and I might let the protest continue.”

She swallows hard.

I step up to her, crowding her with my height. Sure, flirting’s fun, but this is business.

Her eyelashes flutter.

“And here I thought,” I say, “I was one of your biggest clients.”

Her face blanches. Sure, the fresh-pastry budget is an insignificant line item to me, but to her small business? It’s a lifeline.

She looks like she wants to die.

Good. Let her feel the pressure. She’s not the only one who can be cornered. If she loses this hospitality contract, she’s finished. We both know it.

But only I know that I won’t rip up the contract.

Set her free?

Never. She belongs to me. Wholly.

She just doesn’t realize it yet.

I follow her as she rushes toward her grandmother, my hands jammed in my pockets, in full control as I slowly trail her.

Over by the fireplace, two elderly women string up a knitted banner.

KNOTS NOT HOTELS!

“You need to grow a pair,” her granny is shouting at her. “You can’t let a man treat you like shit and still expect to hit that.”

My eyebrow lifts.

Winnie glances back at me. “He’s not hitting anything.”

“If you don’t get these half-naked elderly women out of my tower, I might.”

“Gran…” Winnie begs.

Her granny steps into my space, hands up for a fistfight.

“You’re a bully.”

“Booo!”

“Bread, not beds!”

“Crochet, don’t pay!”

The topless women encircle us.

I squeeze my eyes shut. If they’re not Winnie’s, I don’t want to see them.

“He acts like he’s never seen tits before,” Granny Frances huffs. “Maybe you should fuck the neighbor’s son, Winn.”

My eyes snap open. Straight to Winnie.

Heat. Anger. Something darker. “Is that why you refused to go on a date with me, Creampuff?”

Her chin lifts. “No. I refused because I hate you.”

I exhale, steady, even. Then I reach up and undo my tie. Watch her eyes bug out as she realizes what I’m doing.

“NO CROISSANTS, NO PEACE!”

I twist off my dress shirt. It’s not lost on me that her gaze slides down my face to my collarbone, down my chest, down…

The chanting starts to trail off.

“Are we sure he needs to be protested?”

 

Author Info

I write the kind of books I love—romantic comedies featuring snarly guys with hearts of gold, kick-ass heroines, and a swoon-worthy happily ever after! Also wine. And cupcakes.

When I’m not writing I can be found drinking tea, surrounded by my massive to-be-read pile! So many books...

You can connect with me on social media or find information on my books at my website.

Sign up for my newsletter so that you can get information about new releases, giveaways, and more!

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Mr. Emotionally Unstable Blitz

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SPOTLIGHT w/EXCERPT - DARK PNR - A HUNDRED BLACK SUNRISES (A Friday the 13th Story) by Tamela Miles

Keeping secrets keeps you alive.

Sienna would know.

A Hundred Black Sunrises

A Friday the 13th Story

by Tamela Miles

Genre: Dark Paranormal Romance

A hundred different ways to break your heart, a hundred different ways to take your last breath. Sienna and Finn are exploring their strange attraction to each other until strange becomes something sinister. The clock is ticking as they fight to unravel the mystery of what draws them together on fateful Friday, the 13th.

 

What readers are saying:

A Hundred Black Sunrises is a haunting and emotionally charged horror short that blends reincarnation, cursed love, and inevitable tragedy. The story follows Sienna and Finn, two souls drawn together across lifetimes, only to face the same dark fate again and again. What begins as an intriguing connection quickly spirals into something far more sinister, as the truth behind their bond unravels. Though short, the narrative delivers a powerful mix of supernatural horror and tragic romance.

 – Alicia Dean, Goodreads Reviewer

 

Amazon * Bookbub * Goodreads

A loud cracking sounded across the room and a huge, sil- ver gilded mirror fractured in half, splitting apart their reflec- tions. Elijah grabbed her hand and spoke softly. "Let me get you away from here, Poppy."

As they moved toward the dining room entrance, one of the kit- chen servants appeared. Her brown eyes widened and then narrowed at the scene laid out before her. She hastily wiped her hands on her white apron and latched onto Poppy's other hand.

"Run far, far away from this cursed place. Take nothing with you. His evil was contained while he was alive, but his death means..." she trailed off and shrugged her shoulders.

"What...what did he mean by "a hundred black sunrises?" Poppy asked in a tremulous voice.

 The servant smiled sadly. "Nothing good, you can believe that." She gestured towards the hallway leading to the front door as a dozen other servants from the kitchen suddenly crowded around them. "Now, go! Take her and go!"

Elijah needed no further encouragement and pulled a dazed Poppy down the hallway, already filled with black smoke. As he opened the heavy door, she looked back one last time to say goodbye to every- thing she had ever known, and her gaze lit on Christianpaul's smiling portrait of himself as a much younger man. She shivered as Elijah led her out the front door and she clutched his arm fearfully. Poppy knew every brushstroke of that painting and never in her life had the bastard worn a smile in it.

Tamela Miles is a California State University San Bernardino graduate student with a Bachelor of Science degree in Child Development and a former flight attendant. She grew up in Altadena, California in that tumultuous time known as the 1980s. She now resides with her family in the Inland Empire, CA. She’s a horror/paranormal romance writer mainly because it feels so good having her characters do bad things and, later, pondering what makes them so bad and why they can never seem to change their wicked ways.

She enjoys emails from people who like her work. In fact, she loves emails. She can be contacted at tamelamiles@yahoo.com or her Facebook page, Tamela Miles Books. She also welcomes reader reviews and enjoys the feedback from people who love to read as much as she does. 

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