BOOK BLITZ w/EXCERPT - ROMANTASY - BOUND BEAUTY (Wylder Tale, #3) by Jennifer Silverwood

Bound Beauty

A Wylder Tale, #3

by Jennifer Silverwood

Publication date: July 14th 2026

Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

BLURB

Forgotten gods haunt her steps, and the cursed prince she left behind isn’t done fighting for her soul.

Vynasha is bound to the prince of Bitterhelm. Even if she were to die, her spirit will remain trapped with him in the castle forever. But she won’t give in to Grendel without a fight. With the aid of an oracle, a witchling, and the wolf that claims her heart, Vynasha plans to claim her power as the curse breaker.

Ceddrych guards their nephew secretly while fighting to keep the feral beasts roaming their borders at bay. But the monsters are closing in, and the madness he has struggled with drives him to one desperate, unforgivable act.

A war is about to begin between the forgotten people of Wylderland and the cruel might of Bitterhelm. Beings of prophecy and legend unite in the epic third chapter of the Wylder Tales Series, a romantic gothic re-telling of Beauty and the Beast.

WYLDER TALES is a series of romantic dark fairy tales, set in the past of the wider Borderlands Saga, and includes:
•slow burn romantasy
•forced proximity
•enemies to lovers
•found family
•magical bonds
•wicked witches
•burly beasts
•morally gray characters

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EXCERPT

IN A FORBIDEN DREAM IN WYLDERLAND…

The journey seemed to take far longer than she remembered, and part of her feared the passage of time here compared to the world her body remained behind. Ceddrych had told her countless tales of the dangers of magick, of what happened when one dwelled too long in enchanted dreams.

Here the palace looked less like a ruin wrought from rampage. Candles gave off an unnatural silver glow and the hovering lights that had been trailing Vynasha seemed to thicken and gather as she lifted a hand to push open the doors to the throne room. They cracked open before her hand could touch the intricately carved wood.

Snow filtered in through the broken ceiling and rose vines curled over every surface, crawling up the obsidian columns and steps to the throne. Surrounding the steps, the shadow-spirits of beasts of every size and shape lounged and paced. Their forms flickered about the edges, and their eyes glowed brightly, turning to fix upon Vynasha as she slowly entered the hall.

Upon the throne, the thorned vines had dug into a hunched over man. His blood gleamed luminous violet, the same shade as hers was now.

With every step she took, the full wreck of his downfall became increasingly apparent. The shadow beasts at her back pressed closer, urging her forward. Vynasha clenched her fists and refused to climb the steps to face him.

“Grendel.” Her voice echoed like a plucked lute string through the cavernous hall.

Grendel shuddered and then raised his head and looked at her with dead violet eyes. “Vynasha.” The crack in his voice echoed clearly to her ears. His eyes widened when she remained, and his vine-wrapped hands clawed at the arms of his throne. “You have come at last.”

Her feet began to move of their own accord. She barely caught herself in time. She could not, would not go to him, and certainly never pity him. “What happened here? Why are my roses taking over like this?”

“Can you not guess, Vynasha” Grendel leaned forward, ignoring the press of the rose crowning his dark hair. “Vynasha, you have no idea how your absence has undone me. It has been pure torture to sense you but never able to touch you.”

“Good.” Vynasha took a single involuntary step up the stairs leading to his throne. His violet eyes flared wide with apprehension as she growled, “You and your monsters have made our lives a living hell, Grendel. It’s only fair I repay your bloody kindness.”

Grendel’s lips parted and his gaze took in the full measure of her with all the subtlety of a starving man. “Yet you are here,” he said, a new clarity brightening his violet gaze. His hands flexed against the arms of his throne. “You are truly here, and that means the spell has been broken.”

Vynasha flinched at his sudden smile and found herself unable to take a step back. Her feet drove her forward once more, and this time she had no power over herself to stop. “What are you doing to me?”

Grendel’s hand twitched and then she was flung forward. He groaned as he caught her, the thorns digging deeper into his flesh. She cried out as the same thorns cut her palms as she braced herself against his chest. “I have you, at last, I have you,” he said, eyes bright with unshed tears.

He was mad. No, she was mad. For the instant her hands found his flesh, a roaring wave of need assaulted her. She could rage at him and claim this was his need she felt, not her own. But this compulsion was familiar, forbidden and something she had fought desperately to forget in the past three moons.

“Grendel, let me go” she pleaded as she leaned into him, the pain of his thorns forgotten as he pulled her into his lap and began to press his lips over every part of her he could reach.

“How could I give you up my beauty, my love, my queen?”

She couldn’t breathe. The scent of roses, of life and death, of him were overwhelming. A part of her was starving, had been starving for months, she realized wish sickening clarity. “I hate you,” she sobbed as she tilted her chin and gave him further access to her neck. “If you pull me back here again, I will find a way to kill you, I swear it.”

“You cannot kill me without killing yourself, love,” he said with a laugh.

“Then we both die.” She shook her head but could not help tracing her nose along his neck, to draw in more of his heady scent.

“Vynasha,” he cried as her lips pressed to his pulse. “Please, Vynasha!”

But he was no longer tangible beneath her hands, the thorns no longer piercing them both. The painful aching need to mold herself to him faded just as she did, her hands disappearing before her eyes.

“Vynasha!” He cried with an agony she felt as her spirit was ripped free from Grendel’s nightmare. And the world around her dimmed, consumed by a cloud of inky ashes.

 

Author Info

Jennifer Silverwood lives in the middle of an enchanted forest surrounded by cursed books, nosy spirits, and mischievous goblins she calls her children. After beginning several nonsensical degrees, she found her calling helping other authors bring their books to life. Jennifer is the author of two fairy tale fantasy series: the Borderlands Saga and Wylder Tales. Because she wasn't satisfied writing in one genre, she also invites you to explore uncharted space with the Heaven’s Edge Novellas—and dare to fall in love again with the standalone romance titles Stay and She Walks in Moonlight.

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BOOK BLITZ w/EXCERPT - HISTORICAL FANTASY - MAIDEN TOMB (Twelve Cursed Maidens, #1) by Cynthia Sally Haggard

Maiden Tomb

Twelve Cursed Maidens, #1

by Cynthia Sally Haggard

Publication date: February 5th 2025

Genres: Adult, Fairy Tales, Fantasy, Historical, Retelling, Romance

BLURB

Follow twelve princesses down a dark tunnel into a grove of jeweled trees to a too-placid lake, where a prince will row you across to a gleaming castle to dance the night away. This historical fantasy—a retelling of the Twelve Dancing Princesses folktale—drifts backwards in time from the Early Middle Ages of Sicily to the Bronze Age of the Trojan War. It is perfect for fans of Circe and Spinning Silver.

Sixteen-year-old Justice wants to release her sisters from the jaws of Father’s imprisonment. But what can she do? The easiest way would be to find suitors for them.

However, that is not so easy, for Justice’s elder sisters are strange. What with All-Gifted’s madness, Protectress’s hair writhing with snakes, Death-Bringer’s grief (not to mention her strange name), Shining’s scandalous doings, Maiden’s tart tongue, Shadow’s crippling shyness, no sensible man would want her sisters as wives. Which leaves Justice, the seventh daughter, the one who possesses a quiet authority.

Maiden Tomb, Book One of the Twelve Cursed Maidens series, is a clean enemies-to-lovers romance.

The original fairytale—about twelve young ladies dancing all night—sounds so jolly doesn’t it? But I don’t think Twelve Dancing Princesses is about dancing at all.

I think it is about death.

Why do I think that? Well there appear to be some elements to the tale that go back, way back, hundreds, no, thousands of years, back into the Ancient World.

First of all, being rowed across a body of water sounds like a thread of Greek Mythology found its way into this tale. It is very reminiscent of Charon the boatman rowing the souls of the newly dead across the River Styx.

Then there are those jeweled trees. Where do they come from? Several scholars believe that element of the story comes from the Tale of Gilgamesh, which may have been originally composed around 1800 BCE. It tells the story of Gilgamesh, a King of Uruk a city-state in Sumeria, who is grieving for the death of his best friend. According to scholars, Gilgamesh ruled the Kingdom of Uruk in around 2700 BCE.

Then there are the princesses themselves. Have you ever wondered why their are twelve princesses? Again, the answer points towards the ancient kingdom of Sumeria, which existed in what is now present day Iraq, beginning in around 6,000 BCE. The Sumerians were renowned astronomers who used a base-12 numerical system, unlike the base-10 or decimal system we use today.

And so, there you have it. When you dig below the surface, a charming story from Europe has roots in the Middle East and seems to be thousands of years old!

And so, when I came to write Maiden Tomb, a piece of women’s fiction that explores the all-too-often captivity of women, I put back all those elements. We have the Gilgamesh epic, and elements of Greek Mythology, complete with snakes, ancient gods, and powerful goddesses. And far from being a jolly novel about young people dancing, as the title suggests, I made it a book about death.

I hope you find this coming-of-age novella as enjoyable to read as I found it fascinating to write.

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EXCERPT

In the past week or so since we’ve arrived, life has taken on a predictable rhythm. I spend the mornings entertaining the ladies of the castle, with the lyre, my singing, playing knucklebones, and listening to their gossip. Truth to tell, nothing they say is particularly interesting as high-born ladies spend their time inside. When they are not diverting themselves with such pastimes as I provide, they are spinning, weaving, running the household, and caring for their children. They talk incessantly about their children. They know little of the outside world.

I escape after the midday meal, taking advantage of the ladies’ habit of resting as the sun’s chariot crests at the highest point of the day. While they sleep, I head out into the scorching countryside looking for Father.

We sit together in the shade, while Father does some task, usually repairing something, while I tell him everything I’ve learned the evening before. It is not that hard. Because I am small, and people are now familiar with my face, no one pays me any mind as I take my seat at the bench that runs along the side of the huge table where all the working folk of the castle eat their meals.

Father has told me never to be inquisitive, but I am dying to know more about the twelve mysterious ladies locked up in the castle tower, the ones people whisper about behind their hands when they think no-one is noticing.

As the light of the sun drains from the sky, as the king’s men sink lower onto wooden benches eating dish after dish, quail, pheasant, peacock, duck, eggs, bread, olive oil, wine, and olives, the noise of seven hundred men sharing jokes, laughing, and swilling wine reverberates around the hall.

Finally, I can take it no more.”Is it true what they say about the King’s daughters?”

The grizzled stranger on the bench next to me wipes the grease off his mouth with the back of a hand and spits out an olive pit.

“Where’ve you popped up from? You shouldn’t be here. You’re only a young lad.”

I am used to these remarks. After I left home I took a ship that was blown off course, taking me west to the land of the Italoi. I had to beg for money in the streets and in the taverns and it was not long before I heard news of Father, who was sailing to the west of this land.

And so I made my way across steep mountains before coming down to a lush plain. Playing my lyre to entertain strangers I followed their directions to the sea, to a wide bay within sight of a simmering, high, conical-shaped mountain.

And there, in a tavern, I met Father.

Now we are traveling home together. But Father is not here on the bench beside me, as he should be, but outside at a nearby farm pretending to be a stable hand.

This is one of Father’s clever strategies. He is a master at extracting information. He calls his strategy “divide and conquer” and it means that I have to use my lyre to find a berth for the night in some local chieftain’s house. This is not usually difficult, especially if there are ladies around because for some reason they always want to pet me.

Meanwhile, Father finds work on the outside as a shepherd, farmhand, or stable boy. By concealing his origins and pretending to be dumb, drunk, or both, Father is able to overhear a great many things. We have a plan to meet every day at noon, I escaping the blandishments of the ladies to visit the local farm for milk, cheese, eggs where I could happen upon the new stable boy, farmhand, or shepherd.

The only fly in the ointment is my age. I am only twelve years old and to my great annoyance, I look it. So Father made me memorize some phrases to offer when this issue arises.

“Father is here with me, but is suffering with an ache to his belly.”

One sentence is usually enough for most people. Father has instructed me never to offer explanations that are not asked for as it only makes people more curious.

But the fellow is staring at me, waiting for more.

I turn my eyes down. “Father told me to eat supper and then berth with him in the stable yard.”

“He’s the new stable hand, is he?”

I nod.

“Much good he’ll be with a bellyache.”

I look up. “Do you have a remedy for that good sir?”

Father always stresses the importance of asking for advice when a conversation turns sour, as it flatters the vanity.

The fellow hawks and spits, rising from his seat. “You’ll have to go to the kitchens for that, son.” He ambles off.

 

Author Bio:

Cynthia Sally Haggard was born and reared in Surrey, England. About 40 years ago, she surfaced in the United States, inhabiting the Mid-Atlantic region as she wound her way through four careers: violinist, cognitive scientist, medical writer, and novelist.

Her first novel, Thwarted Queen, a saga set in 1400s England with a Game of Thrones vibe, won the 2021 Gold Medal IPPY Award for Audiobook. Her second novel, Farewell My Life, a dark historical about a hidden murderer, won the 2021 Independent Press Award for Women’s Fiction and was the 2019 Distinguished Favorite for the New York City Big Book Award.

Cynthia graduated with an MFA in Creative Writing from Lesley University, Cambridge MA, in June 2015.

When she’s not annoying everyone by insisting her fictional characters are more real than they are, Cynthia likes to go for long walks, knit something glamorous, cook in her wonderful kitchen, and play the piano.

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COVER REVEAL - FANTASY FAIRY TALE - CINDERELLA'S CRIMES (Deadly Every After, #1) by KElsey Josund

CINDERELLA'S CRIMES

Deadly Ever After

by Kelsey Josund

Publication Date: October 31st 2023

Publisher: Kelsey Josund

Formats:  Paperback, eBook

Pages: 248

Find it: 

Goodreads, https://books2read.com/CINDERELLAS-CRIMES 

BLURB

Cinna would kill for the throne.

For years, Cinna has been forced to serve her wealthy cousins rather than attend society events alongside them. She has waited for the chance to prove herself and exact revenge. When a ball at the castle is announced, promising to bring many powerful people to town, she seizes the opportunity to strike.

She bets her best friend, Johann, a small-time thief and con-man, that she can land a greater score the night of the ball than he can. They embark on parallel heists. But as their plots unfold, things begin to unravel: by the end of the night, the castle’s on lock down, a duchess is dead, a mansion has burnt to the ground – and Cinna hasn’t even stolen anything.

Or has she captured something far more valuable than gold and jewels?

  Find it: 

Goodreads, https://books2read.com/CINDERELLAS-CRIMES

Author Info

Kelsey Josund is a software engineer and author of scifi, fantasy and young adult fiction, including a series of forthcoming feminist retellings of classic childhood fairytales.

Originally from Seattle, Kelsey loves getting outdoors and living in places that allow her to escape to the mountains on the weekends. She cares deeply about the ecosystems that humans impact and that impact them in return. Her writing explores these themes through the prism of the traditional coming-of-age arcs of science fiction and fantasy. Kelsey is particularly interested in stories and characters that complicate the traditional and familiar, leading her to rediscover old tales from new and unexpected angles.

With a passion for storytelling in all its forms, Kelsey approaches writing fiction the same way she approaches writing code: she likes to know where it’s going, but wants to figure out the details as she goes. She believes good software is a lot like a good story—full of neat and clever solutions to tricky problems, beautiful at a granular level but also from a distance.

Kelsey lives and works in Silicon Valley, California with her partner and their cat. She holds a bachelor’s and master’s degree in computer science from Stanford University, and is currently plotting her return to the Pacific Northwest and working on her next novel.

For more information, visit www.KelseyJosund.com.

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Giveaway Details:
3 winners will receive an eBook of CINDERELLA'S CRIMES, International.
Ends August 29th, midnight EST.
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BOOK BLITZ - CONTEMPORARY FAIRY TALES - TWELVE HOURS IN MANHATTAN by Maan Gabriel

Twelve Hours in Manhattan

by Maan Gabriel

Publication date: April 18th 2023

Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Fairy Tales, Romance

BLURB

Two worlds. One heart. Twelve hours.

Bianca Maria Curtis is at the brink of losing it all when she meets Eric at a bar in Manhattan. Eric, as it turns out, is the famous Korean drama celebrity Park Hyun Min, and he’s in town for one night to escape the pressures of fame. From walking along Fifth Avenue to eating ice cream at Serendipity to sharing tender moments on top of the Empire State building, sparks fly as Bianca and Eric spend twelve magical hours far away from their respective lives. In that time, they talk about the big stuff: love, life, and happiness, and the freedom they both seek to fully exist and not merely survive.

But real life is more than just a few exhilarating stolen moments in time.

As the clock strikes the twelfth hour, Bianca returns back to the life she detests to face a tragedy that will test her strength and resolve—and the only thing she has to keep going is the memory of a man she loves in secret from a world away.

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Author Bio:

Maan Gabriel is a mom, wife, dreamer, writer, and advocate for women’s stories in literature. She earned her BA in communications from St. Scholastica’s College in Manila and MPS in public relations and corporate communications from Georgetown University. She has lived in Manila, Brussels, Dakar, and Mexico City. During the day, she works in strategic communications. Gabriel, along with her husband and son, currently calls suburban Washington DC home. After Perfect is her first novel.

"I dream of a world full of hope, where believing is as important as life itself, and where love can move mountains. This is in the very core of my stories, and I wish in more ways than one that I can inspire you to see the world as I see it... a fairy tale."

- Maan

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BOOK BLITZ w/EXCERPT - YA FANTASY - THORNS AT SUNRISE by Janeen Ippolito

Thorns at Sunrise

by Janeen Ippolito

Publication date: March 23rd 2023

Genres: Fantasy, Romance, Young Adult

BLURB

A young queen. Her imaginary friend. A kingdom on the verge of death.

She believes she’s crazy.

Queen Usilea has a secret–and he lives in her mind. Ever since she was six years old, her imaginary friend has been her closest companion, and her arranged marriage has been a great dread. When she learns her betrothed and the royal family have suddenly died, she feels obligated to attend the funeral in the foreign land of Absteph–and perhaps learn more behind their mysterious passing.

He only wants the truth.

Petar endures great pain to protect those he does not remember. His only solace is a shadowy woman who he loves–even though she denies that he exists. When a terrible tragedy occurs in his kingdom, that mysterious woman is his only hope of bringing justice to light. For the cage that imprisons him grows harsher every day, and he is losing the fight.

But there are thorns at sunrise.

Brought together on the barest thread of reality, Usilea and Petar must discover what really happened to the royal family. But Petar’s time is running out. Soon not even a Mender like Usilea will be able to save him.

This YA romance features a gender-swapped Sleeping Beauty in an original fantasy world on the brink of doom.

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EXCERPT:

Her imaginary friend was playing a new trick on her. This time, she would discern his meaning.

Usilea set down the quill on the paper, frowning at the words mocking her from the page. She pressed her lips together in thought. Thorns at sunrise? What could it mean? What was her mind trying to tell her?

“What do you think of my riddle?”

As usual, the voice didn’t come from within her mind directly, but somewhere outside. Yet were she to glance around, all she would perceive is the vaguest sensation of shadow and soul in the periphery of her vision.

And so, she refrained from looking. Instead, she focused on the words she had written, words he had spoken into her mind at some point in the night.

I think … you’re afraid.

“And what am I afraid of, goldenbird?” Amusement teased the edges of his words. She had known her friend was a male since the first time they had met, whenever that had been. Sometime after her sixth year. “Tell me, you who know me so well.”

I know you as well as I might any figment of my imagination.

“Likewise. That is not the answer to the riddle.”

A sigh escaped her. Usilea leaned back in her cushioned chair and rubbed the tense area around her eyes. You are afraid of being lost. You are afraid of being found. You are afraid of darkness, and you are afraid of light.

No answer came from the voice in her mind. A faint smile curved her lips. He only withdrew like that when she was right and he was bewildered. She had learned that pattern over the years as they had conversed. He liked keeping his mysteries, while he equally delighted in unveiling the mysteries of others. A curious behavior for her imaginary friend.

A strange, stabbing sensation pierced through her musing.

What did it imply about her that her closest friend wasn’t real?

 

Author Info

Janeen Ippolito writes about misfits who defy expectations, whether in fairy tale, steampunk fantasy, urban fantasy, humorous paranormal romance, or poetry. She also spreads wordtastic joy in her work as a fearless book strategist, nonfiction author, and coach. In her spare time, she swordfights and posts cute animal memes.

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BOOK BLITZ w/EXCERPT - FAIRY TALES RETELLING - VEVLET CRUELTY by Eve Dangerfield

Velvet Cruelty

by Eve Dangerfield

Publication date: October 11th 2022

Genres: Adult, Fairy Tales, Retelling, Romance

BLURB

Once upon a time I was promised to a powerful man. I was raised to be dutiful and innocent. But on my wedding day, I’m stolen by four men. Men who loathe my fiancé. They’re going to use me to fulfill their vendetta.

One of them only wants my body.
One of them wants me as his wife.
Another one offers freedom… at a price.
And the last wants me dead.

I was raised to be a good society wife. Now I’m facing a battle of wits and breathless desire. My only hope is to set aside my innocence. Or learn to use it as a weapon.

Author’s Note: VELVET CRUELTY is a scorching romance between a woman and four beautifully dangerous men in which she never has to choose. Read at your own discretion.

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EXCERPT:

A girl barely old enough to be called a woman is sitting on a bench two hundred feet below me. She’s laughing, a cutesy box of cupcakes on her knees. I adjust my lens scope and her face comes into focus. Green eyes, pale skin, and a wide, soft mouth with lips as red as blood—a color I’ve seen more of than most. She picks up a cupcake and holds it away from herself, as though afraid to taste it. Knowing her stepmother, she probably is.

Terrell says something and she laughs, her long ebony black hair catching the light. People stare as they walk past, their mouths falling open. The girl’s always been pretty but since she turned eighteen no one can take their eyes off her. I move my scope half an inch to the left and find Terrell. Clean-shaven with a hint of baby fat around the cheeks and chin. He looks younger than thirty-eight. And soft. The kind of guy you’d size up if you were looking to jump someone at a train station.

My finger brushes the rifle trigger. One squeeze, the whisper-jerk of a bullet and he’d be gone. But a quick death is better than Zachery Terrell deserves.

He can’t take his eyes off the girl either. From forty stories away I can tell he wants to grab her hair and pull her mouth onto his cock. He won’t though. Two benches away, not bothering to look like anything but muscle, are her bodyguards. Kurt Whitehall and Theodore Murphy. Their Rugers are in full view at their sides as they chat and eye up female joggers. I could be killing John F Kennedy behind them, and they wouldn’t notice. They’re there to stop Terrell from grabbing teenage tits and that’s all.

I’ll see Whitehall and Murphy soon. Show them exactly how bad they are at their jobs.

The girl stops laughing and brings the pink cupcake to her lips. Her small tongue flicks at the frosting and Terrell almost nuts in his jeans.

She’s not teasing him. She’s just fucking clueless. A doe-eyed little girl. Never been on a date. Never had a friend sleep over. Her mom dresses her in shirts Mormons wouldn’t be caught dead in. Whenever anyone talks to her those big green eyes glaze over. Bobby says she’s pretending to be slow. Doc and I think she’s dumber than a sack of hair. If she had a different last name, she’d have flunked out of high school. But when you know you’ll be married before you can buy beer, why bother learning?

Terrell moves to wipe the pink frosting from her nose and the girl glances at her bodyguards. They snap to attention and Terrell’s hands fall to his sides. He’s smiling but it’s fixed. Irritable. He doesn’t like being told what to do, but rules are rules and no one touches Harlow Constantine. He’s lucky to sit next to her. When the girl graduated from Pembrooke Prep, she received her diploma offstage. She’s danced at the New York Ballet Academy since she was nine, but no one’s ever seen her perform. A kid once tried to film her riding a horse at Kensington Stables and Murphy hit him so hard, he got a concussion.

Terrell’s spent millions gaining the stepmother’s loyalty and that bitch has made sure no one’s so much as brushed up against the girl’s side. She’s as pure as snow and in four weeks she’ll say ‘I do’ and belong to Terrell forever.

Or so he thinks.

Terrell’s security team is almost invisible. Two guys in the skyscraper across the road. Two more in a Buick idling by the curb. A sniper on top of St Michael’s church. If I shot Terrell this morning, I’d have to execute five men in under a minute to get away. Not impossible, but messy. I shift my position, easing the ache in my spine as the girl finishes her cupcake. She sucks leftover frosting from her fingertips and a throb runs down my cock. There’s a body begging for corruption under those ugly clothes. It’d be fun to tear her out of them. She’d cover herself with her hands, but that’d only make it hotter, her tits jiggling as tears ran down her face. I’d feed her Orchard, so she’d be wet and writhing, whatever her prissy little mind told her. I’d pin her to the floor, shove her thighs wide with my knees, and press into her pussy. I’d watch her virgin blood smear up and down my shaft as I fucked her. She’d fight me the whole way, her little fists pounding against my back as I broke her open.

The perfect Constantine princess, ruined by a dirty lowlife like me.

But that’s not the plan. Whatever Morelli decides to do with the girl she doesn’t really matter. Terrell matters. Making him regret the day his father slimed into his whore of a mother matters.

There’s a chance I’ll fuck Harlow Constantine, but it’s more likely I’ll kill her. Kill her, cut out her heart and feed it to Terrell. And it won’t be personal. As Terrell taught us a long time ago, sometimes you’re in the wrong place at the wrong time.

 

Author Info

Eve Dangerfield has loved romance novels ever since she first swiped her grandmother’s paperbacks. Now she writes her own stories about complicated women and gorgeous-but-slightly-tortured men. Her work has been described as 'genre-defying,' 'insanely hot' and ‘the defibrillator contemporary romance needs right now'...and not just by herself or those who might need bone marrow...OTHER PEOPLE! She lives in Melbourne with her boy and a bunch of semi-dead plants. She can generally be found making a mess.

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SPOTLIGHT - FANTASY - THE BETTER TO SEE YOU (Transplanted Tales, #2) by Kate SeRine

In The Better to See You by Kate SeRine, fallen fairy godmother Lavender Seelie finds refuge in the arms of a wolf. Come check out this second novel in the Transplanted Tales series as we celebrate its 10-Year Anniversary. Be sure to enter both giveaways! 

The Better To See You

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BLURB

A fallen fairy godmother finds refuge in the arms of a wolf—until a series of murders threatens to break the spell—in this gritty paranormal romance.

Thanks to a spell mis-cast by Lavender Seelie, Cinderella’s former fairy godmother, Make Believe characters have been cast into the ordinary world. Now that the Tales are flesh and blood, their storybook lives aren’t so simple. But fortunately for Lavender, she’s about to get a second chance at a happy ending.

The Refuge, a sanctuary for wayward Tales, seems like the perfect place for Lavender to start a new life—especially when she discovers an unexpected ally in Seth, the brooding werewolf who’s been typecast as a villain ever since his run in with Little Red Riding Hood. But when humans from nearby towns start turning up dead, their bodies mutilated with archaic Tale symbols, Lavender wonders if Seth’s deep sensuality has blinded her to a deadly reality.

Read an Excerpt

It was over.

I was going to be torn apart here in the middle of nowhere by some winged demon dog. I’d never get the chance to start over. I’d never get the chance to prove I was more than just a colossal failure in every regard—as a daughter, as a woman, as a fairy.

I couldn’t believe my unbelievably shitty luck.

Shaking violently from the pain wracking my body, I lay there, the raindrops mixing with my tears as I sobbed and watched helplessly as pine needles gathered together, creating a thick rope that wound itself around my arms and torso, pinning me to the ground.

Briefly, I wondered how people would remember me after I was gone. Would they speak the name Lavender Seelie and think of the fairy godmother who’d once wielded almost unparalleled power and skill? Or would they remember only the screwed-up fairy who’d ruined their lives when that same power had betrayed her?

            After several agonizing moments, I finally heard the creature leap across the ravine and snapped out of my last-minute pity party, fear and panic once more flooding my veins.

There was no point in trying to summon my magic now—it had deserted me, that was pretty freaking clear. I just hoped like hell my death would be quick.

            The creature prowled toward me, its massive bulk a mercifully indistinct silhouette, and I swear I thought I heard it chuckle, the sound sending chills down my spine. Then from behind me came the whisper-soft padding of paws on the underbrush. In the next instant, a great white wolf leaped over me and slammed into the shadow-creature. The two rolled end-over-end in a tangle of claws and teeth, coming to rest with the wolf on top, its lips peeled back in a vicious snarl.

            I turned my head to get a better look just in time to see the wolf grab the creature’s throat in its teeth. The beast’s howl ended abruptly as the wolf gave a powerful shake of its head, tearing out a large section of demon dog’s throat.

The wolf flung the chunk of flesh into the underbrush then cautiously padded toward me, its head down between its shoulders, sizing me up. As it came closer, I realized it wasn’t an ordinary timber wolf. This animal was easily twice the size of any wolf I’d ever seen and had a distinctly human intelligence shining in its eyes.

I didn’t stand a chance.

It bit through the pine needle rope and shook its head, scattering the needles all over the ground. The rest of the needles instantly fell away, and the trees halted their brutal assault.

I raised a bloody, trembling hand, not sure if I’d just exchanged one predator for another. “Please,” I managed to gasp between the quick, shallow breathes that were all my punctured lung would now allow. “Please…”

In response, a soft shimmering light encased the wolf, and where the beautiful creature had stood, now crouched a man, his ice-green eyes still glowing. As he gently lifted me into his arms, I cried out, pain engulfing me.

“It’s all right,” he said softly, cradling me against him. “You’re safe now.”

I looked up into the grim face of my rescuer, now recognizing him. How could I not when I’d seen his face on Wanted posters and in the Tale news so often over the centuries?

As pain and nausea sent me careening toward a dark abyss, his name drifted to me:

Seth Wolf.

Transplanted Tales Series

Red

Grimm Consequences

The Better to See You

Along Came A Spider

Ever After

Better Watch Out (Fall 2022)

Kate SeRine (pronounced “serene”) is a hopeless romantic who firmly believes in true love that lasts forever. So it’s no surprise that when she began writing her own stories, Kate vowed her characters would always have a happily ever after. She’s the author of the award-winning TRANSPLANTED TALES paranormal romance series as well as two romantic suspense series: PROTECT AND SERVE and DARK ALLIANCE.

Kate lives in a smallish, quintessentially Midwestern town with her husband and two sons, who share her love of storytelling. She never tires of creating new worlds to share and is even now working on her next project — probably while consuming way too much coffee.

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