Showing posts with label Kathleen Harryman. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Kathleen Harryman. Show all posts

Monday, August 8, 2022

SPOTLIGHT - PNR - HUNTED (Vampwitch Novel, #1) by Kathleen Harryman


Hunted
Vampwitch, #1
by Kathleen Harryman
Date of Publication: February 2021
Cover Artist: Kathleen Harryman
Genre: Paranormal Romance
ISBN: 978-1637603239
ASIN: B08RDYSRD
Word Count: 73988


Tagline: Loving a werewolf is complicated. When everyone wants you dead, complicated is easy.


BLURB
Secrets can kill you…

For twenty-five years, Alice Quinn, believed she was human. That was until a fire demon killed her mother, and her father walked back into her life. As a vampire, being dead is not an acceptable reason for staying out of Alice’s life. 

Forced to accept her heritage and the dormant power she possesses as half-vampire and witch, Alice becomes submerged into a world of danger, where deadly forces threaten to strip away her humanity.

Stuck with a newfound family that doesn’t understand her. A ghost who doesn’t want to be dead, and a grumpy gnome, sent by her grandfather from Faerieland, to spy on her, life is more than challenging.

Alpha werewolf, Ethan Jefferies, has a choice, bring Alice back from the Ghost Plane or allow her to die. Ethan’s wolf has its own agenda, claiming Alice, he binds them together. But Alice wants more—she wants the man. 

Excerpt
“You sure that’s him?”
Polly leans over me, “yep, that’s him alright.”
The man doesn’t fit my preconceptions of a thief. Money drips off him. From the expensive cut of his trousers to the confident manner in which he strolls down the street.
Polly’s vibrant red hair flies about her face. I can taste her excitement as it floods her system. Her pink neon leggings clash with her lime-green coat and vivid orange gloves. Not quite the getup for prowling about undetected. It is, however, conservative for Polly.
No one wears colour like Polly Palmer. She’s the vivacious member in the Palmer clan. Her older brother Richard is a lawyer. His jollity left when he hit puberty. Ben is a computer nerd who has a knack for making me feel uneducated. It’s not my fault he talks gibberish.
Polly and I have been friends since nursery. Her fashion sense and easy-going nature haven’t changed at all.
She’s a remarkable lady and friend.
“Look at the brazen bugger, Alice.”
Gripped within the soft leather of his gloves is the package containing the stolen antique.
The box might appear plain, but what’s inside will set you back a small fortune.
“Right, remember the plan, and stick to it.” Shadows prevent my stern glare from reaching her.
“I still don’t understand why you can’t just zap him.” My eyes roll at her words.
“Pol, I’m a Vampwitch, not a superhero. I swear you watch too much TV.” Polly flashes her teeth at me.
Six weeks ago, I found out I wasn’t human, thanks to a fire demon called Aeden. For twenty-five years I have been oblivious of the preternatural DNA within my makeup. It’s fair to say I am not dealing well with my newfound knowledge. Deception and lies hurt when uncovered.
Unable to kill me, Aeden, the candy-floss-haired monster, killed my Mum. Grief is a hard emotion. It requires acceptance in order for the person to move on. Time is also a factor, allowing the mind and heart to heal. I am in a place right now which won’t grant either. This, I blame on my father, Nathaniel, and take out on my half-brother, Julian, as he is around more than my father.
Throw in the fact I have little control over my new powers, being part vampire, part witch with a dash of fae isn’t helping the situation. Like I said, lies and deception hurt.
As the first of my kind, no one knows what to expect. I have no desire to wrap my mouth around someone’s neck and suck out their blood. A plus for me. The dormant vampire is awake and its effects on me are startling. I now possess enhanced hearing and sight. And speed and strength. There is also a need to feed on violence and strong emotions, or anything else that increases the tempo of the heart.
The witch stuff I remain uneducated about and unstimulated to find out more. I know it involves a lot of studying.
Mum’s death has changed me. I no longer dream of finding my dad alive and full of regret. Instead, I harbour feelings of resentment and wish he had stayed dead, rather than undead. I now have more relatives than I can shake a bat at, and all have my best interest at heart. It’s an appalling way to say, control you.
My tears hadn’t dried on my face when Nathaniel, Julian, and Mum’s sister Dot, informed me of my lack of humanity (supernatural birthright).
As the only daughter of a single parent, with no relatives taking them for trips to the ice-cream van or park, I find my present situation overwhelming and unwelcome.
The time for additional family sailed with Noah and his arc.
What puzzles me is their reaction to my unenthusiastic response and open hostility. They were ill-prepared for my anger when I found out the truth. Their confusion at my emotional discord leaves me baffled. What did they expect?
My attitude isn’t helping my relationship with my brother, Julian.
As a master vampire, he’s used to obedience and hates the constant challenges I raise.
Announcing my supernatural status to my best friend, sent him into a frenzy of frustrated anger. How was I supposed to know that ‘not telling anyone’ also included Polly? We share everything.
To maintain family life balance, as we all live at Roseley, Julian and I have reached a mutual understanding by agreeing to disagree.
“Your eyes are sparkling green and gold fire.” Polly’s words yank me back to the present.
“Sorry, I was thinking.”
“You know what I’ve told you about that. It’s dangerous.”
“Hm…”
Polly’s sense of humour and breezy outlook never alters. Julian will lock us up in separate cages if he finds out we’re prowling the streets with a death threat hanging over my head.
Polly nudges me. “It would be good if you could zap him.”
“Even Vampwitches have their limitations, Pol.”
“It wouldn’t happen to Supergirl.”
“What about kryptonite?”
“She can still zap.”
Mr Hobson Solicitor is inching closer. “Hm… right, time to go.”
Polly grabs my arm as I move out from the shadows.
“Be careful, Alice.”
I flash her a toothy smile. “I might be no superhero, but I’ve got some awesome moves.”
Running at a speed too quick for human eyes, I make a beeline for the thief. We collide, hitting the rain-soaked floor. The guy groans as I let out a scream of surprise – playing the part of the unsuspecting victim. The solicitor is on top, so there’s no argument of whom ran into whom.
“What happened?” His voice is like velvet, a good reassuring quality for a man in his profession.
You walked into me stupid! is what I want to say.
Instead, I let a flicker of a smile cross my lips, my brows furrowing. “I think you tripped us up.”  
I arch my eyebrows, wondering when he’s going to move, so I can get off the damp stones. The hat I’d been wearing is dancing across the cobbles, and I am blinded by a mass of black curls, as the wind plays with my waist-length hair.
A flicker of surprise lights his face. “Sorry, I didn’t see you.”
“Well, I was there. Large as life.” My arms float in the air and I sound grumpy. “If you don’t mind moving so I can get up.” Dampness is soaking through my coat into my jeans, causing me to shiver.
Vamps are cold-blooded creatures.
As a living vampire, low-body temperature makes your teeth rattle. Winter is a season of dread and rattling bones.
“Oh! Y- yes sorry.”
Polly slithers from the shadows in exaggerating moves and exchanges the boxes. She throws me a thumbs up, and a big grin, hopping from foot to foot as she disappears down the street.




Author Info
Kathleen Harryman is an award-winning storyteller and poet, living in historically rich city of York, North Yorkshire, England.

Kathleen was first published in 2015, a romantic suspense, The Other Side of the Looking Glass. Since then, she has developed a unique writing style, which readers enjoy, and is now a multi-published author of suspense, romantic suspense, psychological thrillers, historical romance, paranormal romance, and poetry.

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Monday, August 10, 2020

BOOK BLITZ w/EXCERPT - SUSPENSE - THE OTHER SIDE OF THE LOOKING GLASS by Kathleen Harryman


THE OTHER SIDE OF THE LOOKING GLASS

by Kathleen Harryman
Publication date: June 29th 2020
Genres: Adult, Romance, Suspense




BLURB
She wakes up to a life she doesn’t recognize…

And to a husband she can’t imagine loving.

Kate find herself in a hospital with no memory of who she is or anything about her life. Everything is blank.

An attractive, well dressed and obviously wealthy man stands there claiming to be her husband. Yet, as she first looks into his cold eyes, she wonders how she could have loved and married the man.

As Kate is taken home to her luxury mansion. She realizes her ordeal is just beginning. Life with the controlling Liam, her husband, is more than she bargained for.

Then, her memory starts to come back and the truth emerges…

“A well written, thought-out, intriguing and beguiling story by the author, as told by the characters involved.” ~ Goodreads Review 

“The Other Side of The Looking Glass by Kathleen Harryman was intense, intriguing, well paced and an absolute pleasure to read.” ~ Goodreads Review

Read this romantic suspense thriller from the author of Hidden Danger and When Darkness Falls, The Other Side of the Looking Glass is a tale of subterfuge, mystery, mistaken identity and true love.
EXCERPT:
Chapter One
KATE
He clinical smell of detergent penetrates my senses and my eyes flutter open. I find myself staring at a white-tiled commercial ceiling, questioning if I am awake or asleep – though it does seem like a rather strange dream to have. I blink. The ceiling remains. My senses give my brain a nudge and it fires up but provides no answers. Brows wrinkling in confusion, I begin trying to determine what is going on.
One thing I am certain of, is that my body is sore and stiff. Muscles aching, I remain as I am, twisting my head to the right. The sun glares through a wide, steel window. From the sun’s height in the sky, I estimate it has been there some time.
A feeling of guilt settles over me. It appears sleeping in isn’t something I indulge in.
To my right, between the bed and window, is a small white cupboard and a plastic-coated armchair. Sunflowers sit in a vase on the bedside cupboard. I like sunflowers. Though at this moment, I fail to recall why.
An irritating beep-beep sound comes from my left, and I swing my eyes in that direction, lifting my head slightly. Wires litter my body and a pink cellular hospital blanket covers me. The beeping begins to make sense, along with the plastic-coated chair and wires. I am in a hospital.
A sigh escapes my lips as I resist the urge to panic. Instead, I acknowledge my dislike of hospitals. Then again, name a patient or visitor who likes them. There is that clinical smell that lingers long after you have left, and they are full of sick people. At present, I am reluctant to place myself in the ‘sick people’ category, even if my brain is screaming at me, telling me I wouldn’t be here if I was fit and well.
Tentatively, I sniff the air. This hospital does smell nicer than the ones I have stayed in and visited before. At present, I am unable to remember ever spending time in or visiting a hospital, though I’m sure I have done so.
My eyes widen and adrenalin is released into my bloodstream. Hands shaking, my breathing quickens. Panic grips me. Why can’t I remember anything? My eyes fly round the room, unseeing. What has happened to me?
If I am in a hospital, I am safe and cared for. Quantifying this fact allows reason to be heard. Though my heart still hammers, its beat is more regular than it was. My memories are in there, somewhere, I just need to find them. It’s probably the drugs they have given me, clouding and confusing my brain.
Closing my eyes, I demand that my brain starts its cognitive processing. My demand falls into a black hole of nothingness. Not giving up, I decide to think about the sunflowers, as they’d triggered a feeling of happiness. Unfortunately, this simple request is met with vacuity, and a hollow feeling takes up residence in the pit of my stomach. The only mental input I receive is that sunflowers are bright, cheery plants.
My eyes fly open and I face the frightening fact that my life is a blank.









Author Info
Kathleen Harryman is a storyteller and poet living in the historically rich city of York, North Yorkshire, England, with her husband, children and pet dog and cat. 
Kathleen first published a suspense thriller in 2015, The Other Side of the Looking Glass. Since then, she has developed a unique writing style which readers have enjoyed and is now a multi-published author of suspense, psychological thrillers, poetry and historical romance.
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