SPOTLIGHT - SCI-FI PNR - UNDISCIPLINED CATALYST (Coletti Warlord, #19) by Gail Koger

I was sixteen when I found out not only am I an alien hybrid, 

but monsters called the Tai-Kok were getting ready to invade our world. 

Guess who gets to stop them? Me.

Undisciplined Catalyst
Coletti Warlord, #19
by Gail Koger
Genre: SciFi Paranormal Romance

I was sixteen when I found out not only am I an alien hybrid, but monsters called the Tai-Kok were getting ready to invade our world. Guess who gets to stop them? Me. How?

My uncle, the mad scientist, created a machine called the portal that instantaneously sends a test subject from one location to another by converting them into energy. His idea is to port me onto a Tai-Kok ship. All I have to do is leave a bomb, hit the retrieval button on my spiffy traveler’s belt and poof! I’m back on Earth before the Tai-Kok ship goes kaboom. Sounds simple, right?

Wrong. Uncle Ben doesn’t have a clue where I’ll actually appear on the ship. It could be the engine room, the crew quarters, or even the bridge. It’s like playing Russian roulette. The Tai-Kok don’t like surprises or uninvited guests.

To make things even more fun, I have an alien battle commander stuck in my head and I’m related to a powerful Coletti warlord. Yippee. The chances of me living to see eighteen aren’t good.

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“Give ‘em hell.” A wild look in his eyes, Uncle Ben tapped on the portal's control console.

The circles of light surrounded me, but this time it felt like a zillion fire ants were crawling over my body. Holy hell! Something had gone wrong! I appeared in midair and dropped like a rock. Smack! I slammed into someone, and my Glock went flying.

My eyes bugged. I was on the bridge of a futuristic warship, and the viewscreen showed one hell of a space battle that was going on. To make things even more fun, I was lying across the lap of a huge, muscle-bound male wearing black battle armor. Since he was sitting in the captain’s chair, I was assuming he was the boss.

A very angry-looking boss. I blinked. Holy cow was he good looking, if you were into the whole merciless predator thing. Huh? The red chains woven into his black warrior’s braids matched the communication device on his left wrist. Who knew aliens accessorized and why did I care? I took a deep breath trying to control the panic streaking through me.

A low growl rumbled in his chest

One look into his disturbingly hostile amber eyes and I knew I was in big trouble. I reached for my retrieval button.

His arms clamped around me painfully and he spat a bunch of gobbledygook.

“Sorry, I don’t speak that language,” I replied mentally. Somehow, I knew he was psychic.

A harsh voice sounded in my head, “How did you get through our shields.”

“Dunno. My uncle is the scientific genius, not me. I’m just the delivery girl.”

“What do you deliver?”

Did I look stupid? The minute I told him bombs; he’d kill me. I pasted a friendly smile on my face. “Stuff. I’m Lexi and you are?”

“Battle Commander Kaelen. I serve Zarek the Coletti Overlord.”

I had no clue who Zarek was, nor did I want to meet him. “You must be so proud.”

“Do you have a death wish, female?”

I grimaced. “Some people would think so.”

Howdy. My name is Gail Koger and once upon a time I was a 9-1-1 dispatcher. Too many years of wild requests, screwy questions, bizarre behavior and outrageous demands have left me with a permanent twitch and an uncontrollable craving for chocolate. I took up writing science fiction romance to keep from killing people. So far, it has worked. 

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Presented by

SPOTLIGHT - HOLIDAY PNR - FURS, FNAGS, & MISTLETOE (Christmas Cove, #1) by Jessica Coulter Smith

When a struggling single mom and her adorable toddler get snowed in with a grumpy wolf shifter, Christmas magic starts working overtime.

Fur, Fangs, & Mistletoe
Christmas Cove, #1
by Jessica Coulter Smith
Genre: Paranormal Holiday Romance

Escape to Christmas Cove, a cozy small town where magic, shifters, and holiday romance collide.

After a painful breakup, Riley is ready for a fresh start in Christmas Cove. All she wants is a peaceful life for herself and her two-year-old daughter, Sabrina. Love isn’t on her holiday wish list. When she’s stuck in a blizzard, help arrives in the form of Alex Conors -- a protective, brooding werewolf.

Snowed in with a grumpy shifter and a crackling fire, Riley begins to see the gentle heart behind Alex’s fierce exterior… and Alex finds himself falling for the brave single mom who awakens something he thought he lost long ago.

Hot cocoa and toddler giggles turn strangers into something more. But when Riley’s past resurfaces and threatens the safety she’s found, Alex will have to prove that loyalty, love -- and pack -- are forever.

A warm, emotional holiday romance filled with shifter charm, second chances, and the magic of Christmas. Ideal for fans of protective alphas, found family, and heartfelt happily-ever-afters.

 

🏠 Small-town charm & found family
🐺 Grumpy wolf + sunshine single mom
👩‍👧 Adorable toddler moments
🎁 Snowed-in & forced proximity
💕 Fated mates and holiday magic

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The sedan’s engine rattled -- a sound Riley had learned to distinguish from its other mechanical complaints over the past three states. This particular rattle meant she’d make it another fifty miles, maybe more if she kept her speed steady. Her knuckles had gone white on the steering wheel somewhere around the state line, and she couldn’t remember now how to relax them. The GPS showed their arrival in Christmas Cove, and Riley’s shoulders tensed further, an automatic response to any declaration of reaching a destination.

Dusk had settled over the town. Main Street stretched before her, lined with Victorian storefronts that belonged in a Thomas Kincade painting. White lights twisted around lampposts, and wreaths hung at precise intervals, each decorated with the same combination of pine cones and red ribbon. Fresh snow dusted the sidewalks in a way that seemed too perfect, too deliberate. Riley checked her rearview mirror again -- the same compulsive glance she’d made every thirty seconds for the past six hours. Empty road. No one following. No one cared where she went.

She drove slowly past the Sugar Moon Café, noting its warm glow and the silhouettes of people inside. Past a bookstore with a display of holiday romances in the window. Past a hardware store already closed for the evening, its owner probably home with family, sitting down to dinner, living a normal life. The thought made something twist in Riley’s chest, but she pushed it down. Normal was a luxury she couldn’t afford to want.

The residential streets branched off from downtown. Riley followed the GPS directions, checking the crumpled paper in her cup holder against the street signs and the directions from the GPS. One too many times, it had taken her the wrong way. Oak Street. Maple Avenue. Someone had named these roads with an almost nauseating wholesomeness, as if determined to prove the town’s charm. She turned onto Pine Ridge Road, where the houses grew sparser and the forest pressed closer to the road.

A small sound from the backseat made Riley’s gaze dart to the mirror. Sabrina stirred in her car seat, her head rolling to the side as she woke from the nap that had mercifully consumed the last hour of driving. Riley watched her daughter’s eyes flutter open, adjusting to the darkness and the strange lights outside.

“Mama?” Sabrina’s voice carried that quality of toddler confusion. Not quite upset, but teetering on the edge of it.

“We’re here, sweetie.” Riley forced warmth into her voice, though her jaw ached from clenching. “Look at all the pretty lights.”

Sabrina pressed her mittened hands against the window, leaving tiny smudges on the glass. “Lights!” She bounced in her seat as much as the straps would allow. “Pretty, Mama! Pretty!”

“Very pretty.” Riley’s smile felt tight on her face. She wanted to share her daughter’s uncomplicated joy, but she kept scanning the streets, cataloging escape routes, noting which houses had lights on and which sat dark. Old habits. Necessary habits.

The GPS announced their final turn, and Riley’s breath caught. The cottage stood at the end of a short gravel drive, a small structure someone’s grandfather had most likely built and barely maintained enough to keep standing. A single porch light illuminated the front door, and beyond it, the forest loomed.

Riley pulled into the driveway and killed the engine. The sudden silence felt heavy, broken only by Sabrina’s humming as she kicked her feet against her car seat. Riley sat motionless, her hands still gripping the wheel, and studied their new home.

The cottage was smaller than the photos had suggested. Single-story, with a chimney that leaned slightly to the left. The windows were dark, revealing nothing of the interior. Snow had drifted against the front steps, undisturbed except for what looked like animal tracks, probably a deer or raccoon. The porch railing needed paint, and one shutter hung at an angle.

But for now the house was theirs. For six months, at least, with the first month paid in advance with money Riley had saved from extra shifts and skipped meals. Six months to figure out what came next. After that, she’d have to either renew the lease, or move on to another town.

“Out, Mama!” Sabrina had moved past patient and into demanding. “Out now!”

“Just a minute, baby.”

Riley scanned the neighboring properties. The nearest house sat quite a distance down the road, its windows dark. On the other side, nothing but forest. The isolation should have comforted her. Fewer people meant fewer questions, fewer chances of being found. But instead, it made her hyperaware of how alone they were. No witnesses if something went wrong. No one to hear them scream.

She shook her head, dislodging the thought. Nothing was going to go wrong. This was a fresh start in a quiet town where nobody knew her name or her history. Where Sabrina could grow up without her mother constantly looking over her shoulder.

Jessica Coulter Smith is an acclaimed romance writer with a passion for storytelling. Her works showcase the power of love and its ability to transcend boundaries, capturing the hearts of audiences worldwide. With a unique writing style and perspective, Jessica continues to inspire and entertain readers from all walks of life.

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SPOTLIGHT - EPIC FANTASY ADVENTURE - DRAGONSONG by Michael Forester

Sometimes, nothing but the death of your father will do

Dragonsong
by Michael Forester
Genre: Epic Fantasy Adventure

Rebekah, noblewoman of Albion, has been driven to madness by the murder of her lover Vidar. In her torment she bargains with the Prince of Demons to turn her into a dragon. Thus transformed, she seeks to take revenge upon her father, Merlin, whom she is fooled into believing is responsible for Vidar’s death. To save the world from the ravages of Dragonsong, Merlin is forced to banish his beloved daughter to hell, regardless of the consequences for him personally. 

Behind the subterfuge stands Oberon, Captain-King of Elves. He does not foresee the devastation his jealousy and unrequited love for Rebekah will unleash upon Gaia when he frees her from Merlin’s spell and summons her from hell to support his war against Albion.

To save Gaia a second, Merlin is forced to travel back in time to prepare a warrior capable of overcoming the dragon through the power of the Sleep Stone. But he does not foresee the bond that will develop between the dragon and his own assistant, the Seer, Michael of Albion. If Lady Attie and Michael prove unable to return the Sleep Stone to the mouth of Hell in time, the Demon Army will be swarm out of Hell and overrun Gaia.

Time. Time is the key. Time is the only solution to Gaia’s destiny – but only if the gods of Asgard can find a way to stop it.  

 

What readers are saying:

“On a par with the epic of Beowulf, this modern day classic never ceases to amaze. Gripping, thrilling, twisting and turning, the plot of this epic piece of verse (an achievement unrivalled in the 20 the century, I'd say), will have you gripped from start to finish. Don't just dream of dragons and elves, Kings and Warriors, heaven and hell: read about them and allow the mythology to soak deep into the fibre of your being! You, and your deepest soul, will be thrilled.” -Rod Boothroyd

 

Absolutely beautiful book I loved this book. It is a tale of wizards, demons, dragons, elves, love and treachery set around the Arthurian court but written in rhyme. I have not read any poetic literature for over 40 years since studying Beowulf and Sir Gawain and the Green Knight at university so this book intrigued me. I am full of admiration for anyone who can write beautiful poetry but when they can also tell a story at the same time I find that quite remarkable. It is about the battle between elves and men, love stories ending tragically and deceit and treachery. I would urge people to read this even if they haven’t read poetry in a long time, I just found it so beautiful and the story will entrance you. The last lines as written by the Scribe are “Or wilt thou, reader, now persuade me once again to take my pen And make another story come to be? All I can say is that I really hope so!  - A 5 Star ***** Review By Breakaway Reviewers

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Michael Forester is a deafened author who lives between the New Forest and the sea. He is a full time author and public speaker, travelling both in the UK and internationally, speaking inspirationally and signing his books for readers in locations as far apart as the UK, Thailand, Cambodia and the Philippines. He is the author of ten published books to date, on subjects as diverse as business strategy, spiritual inspiration and epic fantasy poetry.

Michael’s own journey has taken him from early years in academia into middle years in management training and Neuro Linguistic Programming. It has taken him from normal hearing to near-profound deafness and the life-changing arrival of a hearing dog, Matt. It has taken him through a miraculously survived suicide attempt in 2002, into a spiritual awakening.

He has travelled to over forty countries, from the Amazon Rainforest, encountering ecological devastation, to South Africa, experiencing post-Apartheid forgiveness; from a personal pilgrimage in search of the singing bowls of Nepal, to a first-hand examination of the darker side of economic modernisation in the Philippines, besides many other destinations. 

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Presented by

SPOTLIGHT - SCI-FI HISTORICAL - AMARANTHINE by Delia Strange

Eternal Life. 

Endless Love. 

Infinite Cost.

Amaranthine
by Delia Strange
Genre: SciFi Time Travel Historical Paranormal Vampire Romance

Eternal life comes at a cost

For centuries, Amaranthine has walked through time—an immortal bound by a gift she never asked for. From the opulent halls of the Roman Empire to the decadent jazz clubs of 1920s London, to the futuristic floating city of New Francisco, she has lived countless lives, loved deeply, and lost more than most could ever bear. With each new era comes new faces: lovers, rivals, and those drawn to the mystery of her eternal existence. But immortality comes with a price, and as the world changes, so too does the weight of the centuries she carries.

Torn between living for the future and haunted by the choices of her past, Amaranthine must confront the question that has followed her for an eternity: What does it mean to live forever when everything and everyone else fades away?

 

“This is the first book in a while that I have continued to mull over even after I'd finished reading it as it's definitely a story that gets you thinking.”
~ Lynne Stringer, Goodreads Review

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Amaranthine’s fingers twitched by her side, betraying the stillness of her posture. She had spent her days wrapped in the quiet routines of the villa, the tasks so small, so predictable, that she’d almost believed herself invisible. But when Marcellus looked at her, she felt herself unravel. There was an invitation in his eyes, a challenge wrapped in dark curiosity, and she found herself unsure whether she wanted to turn away or step forward, closer to whatever unknown waited in that gaze.

Marcellus straightened from his lean against the archway, the lazy elegance of his movement drawing her in further. He hadn’t spoken to her yet, not directly, but there was a thread that wove between them ever since his first arrival. It was dangerous, this game they played without words. She could feel it in the pit of her stomach, a low thrum of something like fear—no, not fear, something deeper, as though she were standing at the edge of something vast and unknowable. He took a step toward her, his expression flickering behind the ease of his smile.

“I’ve seen you here before,” he said, his voice low. The words stretched across the courtyard as though meant for her alone. She’d watched him from the corner of her eye for weeks but hearing him speak felt like breaking the surface of water after holding her breath too long. Amaranthine’s lips parted, the instinct to respond quick and simple, but instead she found herself locked in place, caught in a silence that felt too revealing, too fragile. He smiled, and a small pulse of recklessness responded, helping her forget for a moment the weight of her life here. “You’re always watching,” he added, the edge of a tease in his voice.

Amaranthine’s cheeks flushed and she smiled—a soft, shy thing she felt immediately foolish for. She pressed her lips together, trying to stifle the expression, but the warmth remained, coloring her face. She struggled to think of something, anything, to say in response. The way his presence filled the space between them left her fumbling.

Before she could gather herself, Aurelia tugged at her sleeve. “We’re thirsty,” the little girl announced, with the certainty only a child could have in such a moment. Lucius, the younger of the two, nodded vigorously, eyes wide. Grateful for the interruption, Amaranthine quickly turned her attention to the children. “Of course,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt. She threw one last glance in Marcellus’ direction—he was still watching her, a knowing smile playing on his lips—before hurrying toward the kitchen.

She returned a few moments later with a cup of posca, the watered-down vinegar drink common in the household. The children eagerly shared it before dashing off to chase each other once more, leaving Amaranthine standing alone again. She smiled at their carefree joy, until a familiar shadow crossed her peripheral vision. Marcellus had moved closer, lingering at the edge of the courtyard.

“I didn’t mean to scare you off,” he said. “You’ve been quiet, but I’d like to hear your voice. What’s your name?”

Amaranthine’s fingers tightened around the empty cup in her hands, the warmth of her earlier embarrassment still clinging to her skin. She glanced up at Marcellus, his presence feeling heavier now that he was so near. Her name—it should’ve been an easy answer. It was a simple thing to give, but the moment his question reached her, it felt as if the very air around her shifted, a reminder that she didn’t truly know who she was. Amaranthine. That was the name the family called her when she’d found herself in their home. It was the only word she had to hold onto in the strange emptiness of her memory.

“Amaranthine,” she finally said. It felt unfamiliar on her tongue, even after all these months, like a word borrowed from another’s life. She looked down, embarrassed again, unsure if her name sounded odd to him, a name without the history or lineage so valued in families like his.

Marcellus tilted his head, his smile softening. “Amaranthine,” he repeated, as if testing it out for himself. “It suits you and your golden hair.” His hand moved as if to touch it but then he pulled it back to his chest. He stepped a little closer, and she felt her breath catch. “I’ve been wanting to talk to you, but you always seem so far away.” His words made her heart race. She wasn’t used to being the center of attention—certainly not from someone like him. “Do you always keep your distance, or is it just with me?” he teased lightly, though his gaze stayed steady on her, curious, expectant.

An only child with an active imagination, I created many stories in my head. My bookcase was overflowing, and I loved visiting the library. I'd always been a reader, but I hadn't considered writing until a childhood friend said we should write our ideas down. Once I started writing my stories, I couldn't stop.

I gravitated to stories of peculiar places and happenings. I loved twists and dark reveals, so my writing didn't stray far from that. I was a fan of fantasy—of ancient Greek myths or contemporary paranormal stories. They captured my imagination and opened me to worlds of possibilities. There were no constraints on fantasy, no wrong or right answers; anything I dreamed up was acceptable. And then came H. G. Wells and science fiction, which also opened the door to paranormal and speculative fiction, my three favourite genres.

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Presented by

COVER REVEAL - YA ROMANTASY - MISS FORTUNE by Ashley Bustamante

Miss Fortune

by Ashley Bustamante

Publication date: March 31st 2026

Genres: Fantasy, Romance, Young Adult

BLURB

The moonlight gave her luck…love might take it away.

Since childhood, eighteen-year-old Nia has relied on the fortune stone—a gift from a boy who once saved her from drowning. Its magic, tied to the phases of the moon, brings her extraordinary luck… at the cost of a life spent in hiding from those who would exploit her.

But on the night of the dark moon, Nia is attacked by a nightmare creature and left for dead—only to awaken in an enchanted castle ruled by the enigmatic Neilos. He offers her a bargain: he’ll heal her damaged lungs, but only if she remains within the castle’s walls until the next dark moon.

There, Nia discovers the boy from her past, Enitan, now serves as Neilos’s guard. In stolen moments with Enitan, Nia uncovers a devastating truth: whenever he is near, her fortune stone falls silent. She can have her luck or Enitan… never both.

As Nia uncovers the castle’s twisted secrets, she realizes the cost of staying may be more than she’s willing to pay. Nia must choose: keep the magic that has protected her, or risk everything for love.

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Author Info

Ashley Bustamante has created stories from the moment she could scribble and staple sheets of paper together. She simply cannot recall a time when writing was not a force in her life. When not running through lines of dialogue in her mind, she enjoys taking photographs and spending time with her husband, three children, and any furry, feathered, or scaly creature she can find.

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