Showing posts with label YA Fantasy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label YA Fantasy. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 14, 2026

BOOK BLITZ w/EXCERPT - YA ROMANTASY - BEYOND EVER AFTER by Chantal Gadoury

Beyond Ever After
by Chantal Gadoury
Publication date: July 14th 2026
Genres: Adult, Fairy Tales, Fantasy, Romance, Young Adult




BLURB

Return to the world of fairytales that readers first fell in love with in Until the Last Page in this magically charming sequel.

When Jo fell into a book of fairytales, she thought she would only have to save one prince. But now she has to save his brother, too.
In this new chapter, Jo finds herself lost once more in a world of magic, crowns, and impossible choices. The stories have changed, but the dangers haven’t—and neither has the loving a frog prince was never meant to be easy.

He thought one kiss would solve everything—but now, Prince Aneurin must stop a doomed royal wedding. With Josephine by his side, they tumble through twisting tales in search of a clever witch hiding behind a perfect disguise.

Between running from bearded kings, and avoiding unwanted betrothals, they navigate kingdoms and stories that refuse to stay neatly written. As adventures collide and hearts are tested, Jo and Aneurin soon discover that even in fairytales, the most dangerous magic of all is love.

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EXCERPT

PROLOGUE: ANEURIN

I was certain I could not tolerate another insufferable evening in these damned confining clothes. Tugging at the collar of my tunic, I silently let out a curse into the cool night air. The music from the festivities below, a gentle, enchanting melody of the celebration, drifted up to where I stood on the balcony of my chamber. I’d done my best in avoiding the gossiping members of the court who still could not cease bringing up Josephine’s name around me.

This was a night of grand celebration. My brother was finally engaged, and there was once again a promise of stability – a guarantee of a prosperous future now that he was to be wed. My brother, the epitome of regal charm, and his beautiful future bride-to-be were at the center of everyone’s attention. I was grateful for the distraction from myself.

Sliding a hand through my hair, I let out a deep sigh. It had been apparent from the ballroom floor just how much of a stark contrast I was to the idyllic scene. The years I’d spent as a cursed amphibian had only isolated me from the kingdom, and worse, my family. Sitting at the dining table night after night, left me quiet and disconnected, while my family went on as I imagined they had for years without me. The courtiers had much to say about their theories of my previous life. I couldn’t stand to hear their remarks. Memories of the long nights, being confined in a body that had never truly been mine, feeling so far away from home…from my family. My manservant Henry had tried to tend to my every whim, except for the one I’d truly wanted the most—the freedom to be a man again. In the quiet evenings, when only the sounds of grasshoppers kept me company, I had imagined myself as I once had been, and it had filled me with a sadness I’d never known how to describe. I had dreamed of my return home, to the welcoming arms of my father and mother. But the reality of my return was not one of excitement, but uncertainty and fear.

I overheard the whispers about “the mysterious woman,” who had vanished as suddenly as she had appeared. Her presence had unwittingly brought danger by luring the very man who had cursed me into the heart of the palace. Despite it being me who had bargained with the man called Rumpelstiltskin again, Josephine’s disappearance had left unanswered questions and an uneasy tension that permeated the palace walls.

The festivities below were a cruel reminder of the life I could have had but had lost.

I slid my hands over the cool stone of the balcony railing and closed my eyes. For so long, my life had been consumed by one purpose—breaking the curse with a true love’s kiss. I had never allowed myself to imagine what came after. I supposed that I would slip back into the role I had left as a young man. I would be welcomed back with open arms and take my place beside my father as his heir – his true heir. However, as that path had changed, I was forced to forge a new one —a life in which I would stand beside my brother as a symbol of unity. It was my duty to assist him in his new role, and it was an honor to do so – or so I was told. Even as I stood beside him in the glowing ballroom, I saw the hope in his eyes as he looked at me, and the quiet joy as his gaze shifted to his bride-to-be. The way he held her hand to his lips, the love that passed between them – it was clear. Charming would be a noble and worthy king, and I would serve him with unwavering loyalty.

Loosening the necktie of my tunic, I tilted my chin up towards the sky, gazing over the sparkling stars above. “Josephine…” I whispered.

In all honesty, despite my impeccable ability to keep track of the hours of a day as a frog, I had lost track of how many weeks had slipped by since the last time I had seen her. Had it been a fortnight? Longer? Or perhaps even shorter?

The memory of our last night was etched vividly in my mind. The gentle touch of her hand in mine, the sparkle of mischief in her dark brown eyes, and the softness of her laughter as I held her in my arms while we danced. I had been a fool not to kiss her then. Maybe if I had, she would have been able to stay by my side. I had ignored the silent plea in her eyes, ignored the gnawing in my stomach. I’d been so determined to fulfil the foolish bargain I’d made with Rumpelstiltskin, and it had made me so willingly blind.

I had known Josephine had been the one for me ever since seeing her with that irritating woodland man—Arch, with his untamed beard and wise eyes. For as insufferable as I found Arch to be, I knew it was because he was her friend. I had yearned for the warmth of her friendship, to be on the receiving end of her charms, her smiles.

I had also been a fool to deny the truth for so long, until it was too late. It was maddening how deeply Josephine had worked her way into my heart—only to be torn away before I could fully grasp it.

After the defeat of Rumpelstiltskin, Josephine was returned to her world by a mysterious woman. As the clock in the grand hall began to strike twelve, she dissolved before my very eyes, her form fading like mist in the morning sun, leaving behind nothing but the pair of glass slippers my mother had lent her. Instantly, my heart had been filled with longing. I had remained alone on the dance floor for several minutes until my brother pulled me away. In my manic desperation, I pleaded with my parents to allow me to search for her—to search for ‘the mysterious woman.’ They inevitably gave in to the request. Hours bled into days, and there was no trace of Josephine, nor the woman. It was as though Josephine had never existed in my world. Perhaps she hadn’t.

Since that moment, I had been haunted by the memory of her disappearance, by the ache of her absence that grew with each passing day. I missed her with a depth of longing that threatened to consume me. A yearning that gnawed at my soul and left me restless in the quiet hours of the night.

I knew I would never find her again. She’d claimed to come from another world that existed outside of my own. Many days, I found myself longing to retreat to my chambers and escape the routine of long meetings with my brother and silent dinners with my parents. I preferred to sit in the quiet darkness and bury my sorrows in a decanter of mead by my bedside. I hoped that if I stayed there long enough, the world outside would fade away, and with it, the ache in my heart.

Maybe then, the enchantress—the cruel and cunning one who had spirited Josephine from me would decide to grace me with her presence again. Many nights, I pictured her slipping into the room, her voice as dangerous as a snake’s whisper. She would look upon my pitiful state and offer to curse me back into the amphibious form I once loathed but now yearned for.

I knew I couldn’t let myself remain lost in those thoughts forever. As much as I wanted to linger in the past, I had a role to fulfill, just as I always had. It was time to reintegrate myself into my family, to reclaim my place—it sounded more noble than it felt. I had to come to terms with my brother’s ascension to the throne, and by the night’s end, I wanted to offer my congratulations to him and his soon-to-be bride convincingly. After all, who wouldn’t want to celebrate the fact that my dear brother would someday be the ruler I’d been trained to become? Duty demanded I play my part, and so I arrived, prepared—armed with charm and wit to navigate a room teeming with courtiers, who were more interested in gossip than actual conversation. I preferred the company of the men in the forest that Josephine and I had encountered to the people of my family’s kingdom.

I danced with many of the eligible women, aware that my participation would help pacify their gossip-hungry mothers. I moved through circles of small talk, offering pleasant smiles and well-rehearsed banter. With every conversation, I maintained an air of composure, masking my lingering thoughts of Josephine. It took considerable effort to hide my discomfort behind a polished facade, to act as though her absence didn’t linger like a shadow at the edge of my mind. I had learned to hide so much when I’d only been a few inches tall.

Opening my eyes, I stared out into the darkness and released a slow breath, letting the night air wash over me. I’d been gone long enough and didn’t want to give anyone a moment to question why I’d been gone for so long. I only had an hour more, and then it would be midnight, and I’d be able to depart from the festivities for good. I peered back up at the night sky, gazing at the brightest star above me. I hoped that wherever Josephine was, she too could see this star and think of me.

Perhaps it wasn’t very reasonable to hold onto that hope…to entertain such wishes. “Find me then,” were her last words to me, and yet here I was, unable to do even that.

“A drink would do me good,” I muttered to myself. I just needed a goblet of mead before I returned to the festivities. As I turned on my heel, something stirred in the shadows beside the velvet-curtained door, barely visible from the corner of my eye. I froze, my body tensing as I waited, my breath catching in my throat.

A faint rustling reached my ears as I watched the curtain sway on its own.

“Gerrit?” I asked, calling out the name of my valet. But there was nothing but silence. “I’m in no mood for games,” I continued. “Show yourself.”

Taking a step forward, I reached for the curtain. Almost on cue, a shadowed figure slowly emerged from behind. To my surprise, the figure was much smaller than I had expected, barely reaching half my height. There was a pause before the figure stepped into the faint light, illuminated by the moonlight. What I saw took me by surprise—a fairy! Her delicate wings shimmered like iridescent pearls as they caught the faint glow from above. She hovered before me, her wide violet eyes reflecting determination as she drifted closer.

“Who are you?” I asked, taking a step back. In truth, despite all the stories I had heard as a young boy, stories about witches and enchantresses, mermaids and trolls, I had never quite believed in fairies. The woman’s gown, a deep blue that sparkled under the moonlight, glistened as if woven from the very stars. Her hair, short and white, was pinned back with tiny glass baubles that gleamed faintly in the night. She looked ethereal, otherworldly—like something pulled from a dream.

“Your Highness,” she said, her voice trembling slightly, “I must speak with you.” Her words hung in the air as she paused in front of me. The timing, her sudden appearance, couldn’t be a coincidence, could it? Did she come bearing news of Josephine? My thoughts raced between hope and dread.

“I am Lunelle,” she murmured. “A fairy of the stars.”

“The stars?” I echoed, disbelief mingling with curiosity. I had never imagined fairies could exist beyond the skies, let alone among the stars themselves. Was this how wishes were granted?

“My sisters and I observe from above,” Lunelle continued, her gaze centered on me. “We hear the wishes whispered from those down below. And we see everything.” Her eyes grew wide, and she gestured at the sky. “And I have seen something perilous, Your Highness. Something you must know.” Her final words fell to a whisper, delicate yet heavy with forewarning.

I forced my brow to remain calm, though frustration flared beneath my skin. “If you could elaborate,” I said dryly, my tone clipped but measured. Mystical proclamations were of little use without answers.

“Your brother, sire…” She continued. Her delicate features were etched with genuine concern. “Your brother is in grave danger.”

My heart skipped in my chest as I peered at her with wide eyes. My brother? I looked over my shoulder, listening to the soft melody of the ball taking place below. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

“If he’s in danger, I must go to him,” I said firmly, attempting to move past her. If there were something to be done, I wouldn’t waste a moment standing idle. But before I could take another step, Lunelle’s small hand darted out, her fingers clutching the sleeve of my white tunic. Her grip, impossibly firm for her slight frame, held me fast. I pulled against her, but my feet felt rooted to the stone, as if the ground itself had conspired to keep me still.

“It is far too dangerous,” she murmured. “Neither you nor your brother is safe—at least not yet.”

My patience waned under the weight of her cryptic warnings. “You’d best explain yourself,” I snapped, my voice sharp with frustration. I leaned closer, my eyes narrowing. “Now.”

Lunelle released a shaky breath before replying, “There is an evil witch who has set her sights on you and your brother. She seeks to undermine you both, to plant herself in a seat of irrefutable power.”

“A witch?” I repeated, incredulously.

“One of the most powerful in all the land,” she continued, ignoring my question. “Her magic is dark, ancient, and fueled by envy.”

I narrowed my eyes, determination flaring in my chest. “If you release me, I can go directly to my father. Surely, he can do something about this.”

A bitter smile twisted her lips, and for the first time, a flicker of something almost human crossed her delicate features. “If it were that simple,” she said quietly, “do you not think I would have already alerted him?”

I gritted my teeth, frustration mounting. “Is this not exactly the sort of thing you’re supposed to handle? Instead of trapping me here, shouldn’t you be doing something about this witch?” If an enchantress had the power to send Josephine away with just a flick of her fingers, surely this fairy could deal with a rogue witch.

“You honor me with your compliment, Your Highness—”

“It was no compliment,” I interjected, scowling.

“But even my magic has limits.”

I let out a slow, exasperated sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. “Then what am I supposed to do?”

“There is…one person who can help you,” Lunelle said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. “One person who can save your brother from making a grave mistake.”

“A mistake?” My mind reeled at her words. What in God’s teeth had Charming done now?

“It’s the woman he intends to marry,” she continued, her tone somber, her words deliberate. “She is not who she seems. The maiden he met a fortnight ago is no longer the one with whom he plans to exchange vows.”

I stared at her in disbelief. “What are you saying?”

“You must find the one who can break the witch’s hold.”

“God’s teeth, not this again,” I muttered, frustration boiling over. Another vague warning, another puzzle without a key.

“You must find her,” the fairy pressed, her tone sharp now, cutting through my doubts.

“Her?” I repeated the word hanging in the air like a storm cloud. “Who? Who am I supposed to find?”

Lunelle leaned closer, her luminous eyes locking onto mine as she pulled her wand free from the waistband of her gown. With a simple touch against the sleeve of my tunic, I watched as my white royal finery was transformed into a simple blue tunic with a leather satchel on my side.

“What is the meaning of this?” I asked, tugging on the simple fabric.

“Remember, Prince Aneurin,” she said, “The face you seek is not the face you see.”

“Speaking in riddles does nothing to aid this situation,” I retorted.

Before I could demand more answers from her, the fairy pulled out her wand. It gleamed in the moonlight as she pointed it toward me.

“Forgive me, Your Highness,” Lunelle said softly, almost regretfully. “But you will soon understand.”

In an instant, a blinding light erupted from the wand, enveloping me completely. I tried to shield my eyes, but the brightness was overwhelming. The ground vanished beneath me, and I felt weightless, as if flung through the air by an invisible force. The rush of wind roared in my ears, and my heart pounded in a frantic rhythm. When the light finally ebbed away, I gasped for air, disoriented and breathless. My feet landed unsteadily, and I stumbled, blinking rapidly as my surroundings came into focus.

The world around me had changed entirely.


 

Author Info

Chantal Gadoury is a best selling fairytale-retelling and romance author, living in the beautiful countryside of Muncy, Pennsylvania with her mom and family yorkie, Taran.

When Chantal isn't pursuing her next writing endeavor, she enjoys spending time with her loved ones, and taking long walks to the sounds of BTS. She is a TikTok enthusiast, loves all things Disney and loves a good, romantic K-Drama.

Chantal first started writing stories at the age of seven and continues that love of writing today. After graduating from Susquehanna University with a degree in Creative Writing, writing novels has become a dream come true.

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Saturday, June 6, 2026

BOOK BLIRTZ w/EXCERPT - YA ROMANTASY - DUNE QUEEN by Amina Adamou

Dune Queen
by Amina Adamou
Publication date: June 6th 2026
Genres: Fantasy, Romance, Young Adult




BLURB

When Salima Farhan turns eighteen, she thinks she’s finally old enough to escape the absurd teachings of the cult her parents joined ever since she was a kid, but Farik Masood, the founder and leader of the Crescent Compound, has other plans for her: he wants her to join a recruitment program to bring in more cult members.

Salima agrees to join the program in order to eventually escape—but she quickly regrets that decision when she finds out Masood’s ‘program’ is actually a front for something far more sinister. Knocked unconscious before she can run, she wakes up two months later only to be told that she now has the same magic as djinn, mischievous, mythical beings who are normally invisible to the human eye. And as a reward for these powers, she’s expected to use her new abilities to help Masood take over the world.

Distraught but determined, Salima must fight for her freedom and for the innocent lives Masood wants to destroy—even if it means marrying the very djinn who has sworn to protect her enemy.

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Author Info

Amina Adamou is a Nigerien living in Niamey, Niger, where several of her books are based on. As a kid, she wanted to become a manga artist, but after suffering defeat after defeat at the hands of complicated battle scenes, seemingly endless panels of scenery, and an aching hand, she threw in the towel and decided to tell stories in a different way. When not reading or writing, she likes to watch K-dramas and listen to K-pop. You can contact her at AminaAdamouAuthor@gmail.com

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Tuesday, April 14, 2026

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

Nocturne
by Tricia D. Wagner
Publication date: April 14th 2026
Genres: Fantasy, Young Adult



BLURB

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

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EXCERPT

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

For all their savagery, though, they were brave.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Some believed those springs could stave off even death.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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



 

Author Bio:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Sunday, April 5, 2026

SPOTLIGHT w/EXCERPT - YA URBAN FANTASY - THE BOOK OF WANDS (Tarot, #1) by Lauren Louise Hazel

The cards await, ready to unveil their secrets. 

Are you prepared to witness their magic?


The Book of Wands
The Tarot, #1
by Lauren Louise Hazel
Genre: YA Academy, Urban Fantasy


The cards await, ready to unveil their secrets. Are you prepared to witness their magic?

Olivia Pembroke is in her final year of The School of Wands, where she will vie against her friends and rivals for qualification in The Final Judgment. Designed to be the ultimate test of Intelligence, Strength, Creativity and Courage, The Final Judgment is set by a mysterious figure called Rasmus, who is wrapped in secrets.

Olivia has no doubt she is going to win and claim victory and pride for her family. That is, until her grandmother dies, and leaves her with her old Tarot Deck, which she claimed could see Past, Present and Future…

**Releases July 2026 – PreOrder Now!**

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PROLOGUE  

Olivia’s head was bowed, and her neck straining in its awkward position. She had plaited her hair neatly, in a half-crown at the top of her head, at her mother’s insistence. Olivia was already regretting the decision. The weather was drizzling, the mist cool on her flushed skin, but she had no protection from its light drops. 

Nor did she have any shield from the flurry of mourners. 

Her mother was standing at the front, clad in a black suit and skirt and black boots. Her face, starting to line with age, was stone cold and remote. Her father was standing at her side, and like Olivia, he was looking at the floor. He looked hunched and strangely small. 

The casket, black and shiny, was lowered slowly into the ground. 

The priest was speaking, but his words were wrong. He was talking about Olivia’s grandmother like someone who had never met her before; he called her a bright and radiant light, kind and gentle and generous. She had not been any of those things, but Olivia had loved her anyway. She had been strong and resilient and a force of nature. She had advocated for Olivia when nobody else had – attending every school event when her parents could not. Her grandmother had stayed at the Pembroke Estate with her while her parents were travelling for work, assisting with schoolwork and answering Olivia’s many questions. She was always supportive and never judging. She always made time for her.

But now she was gone…

And Olivia had never felt so alone. The distance between her and parents was like a chasm, so far and almost unbreachable. Olivia blamed them for their part in her grandmother’s death – for all that they had done to her – and it was a thought, a feeling, that she could not shake. If they had not sent her away, maybe she’d alive... maybe she would still be with Olivia. She did not know what to do now. 

How could her grandmother leave her? She didn’t understand. What had seen done wrong? Olivia wanted to cry, the conflicting emotions bubbling beneath her skin. She felt trapped, like she was suffocating under a black cloud that only she could see.

After all, her mother was always watching – as soon as the thought crossed Olivia’s mind, her mother turned towards her, reaching, as though she hadn’t done anything wrong. Olivia swallowed and backed away. 

“Don’t let this distract you, Olivia,” said her mother, her quiet voice loud in the oppressive silence. Olivia jerked slightly, unable to suppress the flinch. She did not reply.

Her mother barrelled on. “This is the most important year for you,” she continued, oblivious to Olivia’s thoughts and feelings, as always. “You could achieve anything.”

In that moment, Olivia did not care.

Her grandmother was not coming back. 

 




Lauren Louise Hazel is a Cyber Security Manager by day and writes YA fantasy by night. She has one annoying brother and younger sister. As she was growing up, the only item her dad would buy her without demanding her pocket money was books. He’s hoping the writing is successful so he can get a Ferrari!

Some of Lauren’s favourite books and influences include the classics – like Lord of the Rings and The Hunger Games – and anything by Haruki Murakami and GRR Martin. 

Website * Facebook * Instagram * TikTok * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads


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Monday, March 9, 2026

SPOTLIGHT w/EXCERPT - YA FANTASY ADVENTURE - A SEA OF SHIPS AND SOULS by Jordan S. Keller

A Sea of Ships and Souls
by Jordan S. Keller
Date of Publication: March 9th 2026
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Cover Artist: The Wild Rose Press
Genre: Young Adult Fantasy Adventure 
ISBN: 978-1509264612
ASIN: B0GBY23QNF
Number of pages: 242
Word Count: 83,000
Tagline: A Dread Pirate’s curse. A Sea Sprite’s secrets. And one boy who dares the tides.


BLURB
As the son of two washers, Jace Kit has only dreamed of adventure—until a fabled Sea Sprite washes ashore and turns his world upside down.

The Sea Sprite needs a hero to save the Ocean Queen from a ruthless pirate terrorizing the Remos Ocean. With a legendary trinket and handmade boat to his name, Jace is her only hope—even though he knows the trinket is fake.

With Jace's skilled sailing and the Sea Sprite’s magic, the pair enters a competition to win a ship capable of catching the pirate. The only thing darker than the depths are the Sea Sprite’s secrets, and Jace realizes too late his adventure might cost a price too high to pay.

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Excerpt:

The cove was calm when Jace arrived. The horrors carried in by the damaged ship were washed away with the tides overnight. The clear waters took Jace’s breath away, as it did every time, and for a moment, he forgot his purpose for coming. Legends told of angry Sea Sprites luring sailors into the water and returning their skulls to empty offering bowls. Their mystic lullabies compelling sailors to leap headfirst off their ships.
It wouldn’t take a magic song to lure Jace. He’d followed the stunning refraction of water and sky without question. Without hesitation. Without regret. The compass needle in his soul never wavered from the water, his true north.

Jace stepped toward the shore, his leather boots sinking into the sand and his gaze unwavering from the water. I’ll stop at the waterline, he reminded his body. His soul pouted at the refrain, and his legs stopped an inch from the foamy wave cresting the sand. As the wave pulled back into the ocean, the distance returned some sense to Jace. He couldn’t walk himself into the middle of the ocean without risking ruining his boots, which his parents worked hard to get him. Nor could he get far enough into the cove with just his legs to satisfy his hunger.






Author Info
Jordan S. Keller is the award-winning author of the Ashes Over Avalon superhero trilogy, the cyber-punk dystopian Failing Gravity, and oceanic adventure A Sea Of Ships and Souls. She is a type-one diabetic, a serial dog walker, and is impatiently waiting for her favorite bands to visit. She lives in Cincinnati, Ohio with her husband and their critters. 

The Book Junkie Reads . . . Interview with . . . Jordan S. Keller . . . 


Do you feel that writing is an ingrained process or just something that flows naturally for you?

I believe writing (or story telling) was ingrained in me at a young age. I spent a lot of evenings sitting around bonfires and kitchen tables listening to the memories my family recounted. I loved finding stories within my favorite songs and fell asleep each night day dreaming about my own imaginary words. In college, I fell in love with the campus radio program because I was able to meet so many interesting people and hear their stories. I don’t think becoming an author surprised anyone.  



Do you have a character that you have been working on for a long time that still isn't quite ready, but fills you with excitement to work on the story?

Rory is a character that has haunted me for years. I’ll write a couple of pages about him every few months but can’t figure out where to place him. Sometimes he’s stealing space ships, other times he’s a casino mob boss, one time he was a girl and was in a magical high school. I see him so clear in my mind but can’t seem to figure out his world just yet.

 

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

The main character in my superhero romance trilogy, Ashes Over Avalon, is the woman I wish I could be. Fire powers and cool costume aside, Abigail is confident, unafraid to chase her dream, and powers through any obstacle. Whenever I’m struggling with something, I’ll look in the mirror and ask myself, “What would Abigail do?” 


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

Nothing is official yet, but I’m in the early drafting stages of a project close to my heat: Project: Ghost Kid. It’s a young adult paranormal novel featuring a skeptic, a non-believer, and a half ghost trying to infiltrate a secret society of ghost hunters.



If you could go ANYWhere, money is not a concern, and spend one full year. Where would you go and what would you do with this time?

If I could go anywhere for a year, it would be Japan. I feel like you’d need a whole year just to truly see everything, but to be honest, I’d spend a lot of that time and money eating. I’d want to try every ramen bowl I could get my hands on.


Thank you Jordan S. Keller for joining and giving a little insight to you and your process. Your work is appreciated.

You can visit her online at: 
https://www.jordanskellerauthor.com/  
https://www.facebook.com/profile.php?id=100089315640473
https://www.instagram.com/jordanskellerauthor
https://www.tiktok.com/@jordanskeller_author



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Friday, December 5, 2025

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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Saturday, November 8, 2025

SPOTLIGHT - YA PARANORMAL FANTASY - A BUSTLE IN THE HEDGEROW (Jiggery Pokery, #1) by Jack MacGregor

Prepare to be introduced to tantalising tales of seismic skulduggery, fervent fairytalery and flagrant frootery, as a prile of pulchritudinous practitioners of the prestige (that's three beautiful witches, to you) and their feline familiars put their world to rights with fantastical, folklorish results.

A Bustle in the Hedgerow
Jiggery Pokery, #1
by Jack MacGregor
Genre: YA Paranormal Fantasy

Merry meet! Young witch Jinny Lane adopts a beautiful black cat named Jet Jupiter Splinters and so begins their adventures with fellow witches Miss Riz and Miss Lou. A local resident causes trouble in the neighbourhood and the 3 witches retaliate with the help of some faeries....

Green Cat Books


The Shadow Cutters
Jiggery Pokery, #2


A journey is on the cards for Miss' Jinny, Lou and Riz and off they go in a borrowed campervan. Along the way they collect a few more pets, lots of Tunnock's Teacakes, a curse or 2 and some shadow cutters.

Both books are guaranteed to have you rolling with laughter!

Green Cat Books



Candy and Gore
And Other Spooky Short Stories


Brace yourself for eight stories of scary spectres (and for ghosts that try to be) written by a collection of authors who love all things paranormal...


Dreadmoor Hall by S L Saunders
The White Lady and the Headless Knight by Kram Rednip
The Long Way Home by Neil Pettifer
The Gallows Grave by Richard Tyndall
To B&B or not B&B by Kram Rednip
A Most Transparent Gentleman by Peach Berry
Paranormal Investigator by Lisa J Rivers
Too Much Candy and Gore by H L Wood 

Green Cat Books


The Day of the Spider
by Keith Wood
Genre: Dark Historical Halloween Murder Fiction


'The Day of the Spider' is a sort of sequel to the debut novel, 'One Day in May' by the author, but can be equally read as a standalone work as it is very different, though still set in the 18th century.

The novel is primarily set in the heart of the Hambleton Hills of North Yorkshire, though it starts off in Mansfield in Nottinghamshire where the heroine (or should that be anti-heroine), Nellie Chapman, a sexually abused young woman from a traditional mining family feels she has to move a long way from her past life. She has no plans but to get away and live a life on her own terms, an uncommon practice for a woman in the 18th century.
Despite Nellie's unlawful past, fate ensures that she seems to bear a charmed life. You may hate her or love her; it's for you to judge and you'll find plenty to entertain as you sit in judgement.

Amazon * Green Cat Books * Goodreads



As we all know by now, Brigadoon is a mythical, enchanted, Scottish village that appears for only one day every century.

That day was when Jack MacGregor's parents took the leap, together with their new born son, and opted to relocate to an 'earthlier' environment, having the spectral pre knowledge that Jack would, one day, become an author of note (ish). 

Were he to keep residence in the village there would not be a wide enough audience to read or even purchase his ramblings. That and the fact that there was no such thing as 'television' or 'films' or even bookshops in Brigadoon meant his literary career would have been somewhat stunted were he to stay.

Jack was therefore raised in a town in Lancashire, where he developed a strong Bolton accent and a fascination, via Pendle Hill, for witches... oh, and The Munsters and The Addams Family. 

The move also allowed his parents to spend their leisure time holidaying in such glamorous locales as Blackpool, Fleetwood and Morecambe - places that they had heard word of only in ancient folklore, back in the old village. Places they could but dream of. If only they had known the reality.

Anyway, Jack's education was undertaken in an old Salesian boys' school, or college as it was then known, where he honed the gentlemanly skills of football, fencing, athletics, music, art and of course English language and literature. He took no heed when it came to mathematics, physics or Latin studies - he already knew they would be of little use to him in his future life. And he was correct! 

(Excuse me for a moment please. After returning from her daily romp on the back field, our minx of a Springer Spaniel, Jinny (named after a character in Jack's books) has just performed the most pungent poo known to, well, anybody or anything, right outside the office door, and guess who's down for cleaning it up...)

Where was I? Apart from in the shit... so, in a nutshell (or nutcase) Jack took on many unsuitable roles after leaving college:

Lithographic printing, landscaping, butchering (no murder, mind), music repping, DJ (he invented The Headbangers Ball, which fizzled out when MTV nicked the name for their very own with no recompense to JM) working in a record shop or three, owning a record shop, working as a Placement Officer for the DHSS, then running two of the UK's finest small music venues. 

From nowhere (but allegedly, China) came a mystery 'pandemic' whilst Jack was working part time as a courier - he was now a 'Key Worker'! Ha Ha and thrice Ha! 

The peace and quiet that accompanied this outrageous farce finally gave Jack the time and head space he needed to put pen to paper (or one finger to keyboard) and commence work on the weird and weirder tales that had been rattling around for many a year. 

He had planned much of this in the Lake District, in the Valley of the Golden Eagles, surrounded by a multitude of darling red squirrels and the odd faery, but when it came to finally 'getting it all down' Jack completely ignored everything he'd planned and free-formed anew.

The only inspiration was a tiny black cat that Jack's partner had discovered sitting smack in the middle of the crossroads, outside their venue, one terribly stormy evening.

She brought him in and introduced him to their existing cat, Spike, who proceeded to boss him mercilessly until he became his slave. Still is!

That tiny black mouser was wittily christened 'Jet' and the tale of 'Jet Splinters' unfolded around him, without plan or forethought.

Two books were picked up and published almost immediately by Green Cat Books in the shire of Derby and the third has been a long time coming due to real life getting in the way.

Book 3 has definitely been birthed and should be on its way by 2026, but that's been promised for simply ages... getting Book 1: 'A Bustle In the Hedgerow' and Book 2: 'The Shadow Cutters', under the banner of 'Jiggery Pokery', to TV or Film is a priority, hopefully before Jack MacGregor's demise, because he'd like to watch them too ... and that, my patient friends, brings you all up to date. 

Website * Facebook * X *  X * Instagram * Bluesky * TikTok


Follow the tour HERE for special content and a $10 giveaway!

Enter the Jiggery Pokery Giveaway Here!




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