Excerpt:
I returned to the room and knocked, entering at the direction of The Chosen One... who stood in front of the mirror wearing nothing but his Chosen underwear and the tyrian purple cloak wrapped around his shoulders. His chest was puffed out, and his enormous, muscular limbs flexed this way and that as he posed himself in dramatic battle postures with his famous great sword. Every inch of visible skin was hairless and glistening. He had worked up a sweat admiring himself, and I could still smell the liquor on him.
"Um..." I mumbled, wondering if I should return at a more convenient—and less embarrassing—time. Much to my chagrin, he didn't stop flexing on my account.
"Go ahead and pack," he grunted as he clenched his stomach to make all of his tightly bound abdomen muscles pop. "I'll wait for the pressed clothes." He turned to the side and threw the cloak over his shoulder so he could admire his hips and backside, casting daring glances at his tiny embroidered face on the seat of his underpinnings through the polished brass.
I was certain my own face was scarlet as I skirted past him to gather up everything and return the items to the trunks that seemed the most appropriate. The entire time I worked, he didn't break from his posturing, and I wondered if it was a form of exercise for him, or if it merely exercised his ego. My work was hastened by embarrassment, and when I was done, I silently took up the first Tome of Tiberius. I turned my back, ignoring his grunting and wheezing, and flipped to chapter 3, skimming for the most pertinent pieces of information. I needed to know how to handle The Chosen One's finances.
I quickly learned it was my duty to draw up contracts when The Chosen One agreed to take a deal, enforce the contracts, and collect the fees. It was my duty to arrange for appraisers, auctioneers, and moneychangers to convert any "spoils" of The Chosen One's labors—those that he did not keep for his personal collection—to coin. It was my duty to ensure there was sufficient coin for The Chosen One to live whatever lifestyle he chose and to fund any campaign. Incidentals incurred as a direct result of a campaign—such as bribing furious husbands—came from funds before they were deposited into a bank and Tiberius' percentage was calculated. There was a list of "lifestyle" actions that came from the bank and were not considered incidentals; "donations and women" were on that list. Thus, I assumed him throwing coins into the crowd was not an incidental, either, but came from The Chosen One's own bank holdings.
"You need to plot a course for Vevesk," The Chosen One said between poses. "They have vampire stoats."
"What," I asked, slightly startled by the break in silence. "What is a stoat?"
"I think they said it was like a long rat." He glanced over at me. "Find out. And find out how to kill it."
I stared at him until his self-admiration embarrassed me enough to look away. "You don't know how to kill them?"
"I assume I cut them up enough, they'll die," he quipped. "You need to figure out how it happened so I can stop it. Evil wizard, ancient curse, typical vampirism, that sort of thing."
"I have to learn what caused this outbreak of blood-sucking long rats?" I asked, incredulously. Surely he was jesting. That was his job.
"Chapter 2," he said, stripping off the cloak so he could better admire his shoulders.
I grimaced and turned to the second chapter in the Tome of Tiberius. This detailed how I was to conduct necessary research for a campaign and successfully translate it to The Chosen One, for him to then implement that knowledge to complete his feats of heroism. I sighed deeply. "There is no university here to hold historical works, and many of the larger temples do not have any books in them at all. I will need to visit the Wizards' Guild, the Questers' Guild, and the Scriveners' Guild," I explained.
"Go quickly," he ordered without sympathy. "We leave soon."
I gritted my teeth and rose from my chair, throwing Tiberius' quill and a stack of paper sheets into my shoulder bag. It was all but impossible to do the kind of research this would require in only a handful of hours. So, I ran.
Deal Sharing Aunt
Tuesday, November 4, 2025
The Chosen One’s Assistant by Kimber Grey Excerpt
WHAT IT'S LIKE TO BE ME by Elizabeth Ann O'Handley
This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Elizabeth Ann O'Handley Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
Well, one thing is for certain: everyone will feel something different after reading What It's Like to Be Me!
Why you ask? It is simply because every single one of us is completely unique; that is what makes us who we are.
The young girl in this book helps us understand that the journey of self-identification is not always easy. In some cases, maybe we just have not given it much thought. I mean, how often do we check in with ourselves? At times we are more focused on what others may think about us, while we are truly unaware of what we even think about ourselves.
With reflection, it is sometimes necessary, and useful, to see ourselves objectively.
The young girl in What It's Like to Be Me has to look within to find herself. Personal growth will usually assist us in accepting the reality of who we really are. As life changes and we grow through experience, it is up to us to be the best versions of ourselves.
Living your truth is a personal suggestion for making things a little easier when embarking on the journey of knowing exactly who you are. Every experience will change us, maybe a little, or maybe a lot. Who you are going to be in this world starts with you!
I wish you all a wonderful journey!
Truth, love, and respect always,
Elizabeth Ann O'Handley
Read an Excerpt
Preface
The world we live in can be unpredictable. Life will challenge us and give us reasons to question many things. Life may make us feel uncertain of a decision … make us feel uncertain of ourselves.
Let us help one another affirm our purpose so we can live in a world where we feel more in tune with ourselves.
Life is so beautiful, precious, and filled with meaning. Let us start by finding ourselves and then watch that beauty grow.
May we all find what we are looking for.
About the Author: What It's Like to Be Me is Elizabeth Ann O'Handley's second book. It was inspired by a visit to her hometown of Glace Bay, in the province of Nova Scotia.
Elizabeth graduated from Cape Breton University with a B.A. in 2005, and received a diploma in Acupuncture from the College of Traditional Chinese Medicine Practitioners & Acupuncturists of British Columbia in 2011.
In realization of many things, Elizabeth is forever grateful for the love she continues to receive from her family and friends. She reflects on her experiences with a humble heart, and is very emotional about being true to oneself.
Elizabeth is convinced that storytelling can be an effective tool in helping anyone find their path.
Elizabeth is committed to creating positive content, in hopes that it will have an impact on all readers of her work.
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/47332435.Elizabeth_Ann_O_Handley
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/What-Its-Like-Be-Me-ebook/dp/B0FBX92WG4/ref=sr_1_1wuat
TOIL AND TROUBLE anthology
This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.
The brew is hot and bubbling over with romance and terror in this twistedly beautiful anthology that welcomes the darkness of horror and the temptation of love's veiled promises. Six remarkable tales from six incredible authors fill this book of dark shadows and ancient whispers.
Fire Burn and Cauldron Bubble - by Jennifer Patricia O'Keeffe: Enchanted pastries and spell-brewed coffee make Esmerelda's sugar-dusted counter the city's most coveted haunt—until a dangerously charming newcomer slips into her shop, immune to her magic and unraveling her carefully guarded world. As his witch-hunter heritage threatens to burn her legacy to ash, Esmerelda finds herself torn between the threat of revenge from the witch hunter's ancestors and the intoxicating truth of the connection that they share.
Silverwood - by Lynn Hubbard: A lonely rancher's daughter finds her isolated Wyoming homestead upended when an amber-eyed stranger ignites a mud-splattered passion that defies reason—until his supernatural secret and the vengeful ranch hands hunting her force her to choose between the man who saves her and the monster who might destroy her. Torn between fierce protectors and forbidden desire, she must trust the very darkness that could shatter her world to survive the wild frontier's deadliest threats.
Ivy, Lichens and Wallflowers - by James Ryan: Marketing executive Hilda finds solace from her stifling corporate life and overbearing past in the quiet companionship of Miriam, a mysterious 19th-century marble statue in a city micro-park, only to discover their connection transcends stone when Miriam begins answering her handwritten notes through cryptic poetry left in return. As their forbidden connection deepens into an intoxicating dream-bound romance, Hilda uncovers Miriam's supernatural secret: she's a cursed thaumaturge sustained by stolen life force, forcing Hilda to confront whether love can survive the devastating cost of keeping her alive.
A Mirror to Die For - by Cindy Lewis Smith: A desperate woman finds solace in an antique mirror that whisks her nightly to 1880s Arizona, where a charming outlaw named Johnny Ringo fulfills every fantasy—until her jealous fiancé shatters the glass and vanishes, leaving her trapped in an asylum screaming that he is the real monster, a man who shouldn't exist: Dr. John Henry Holliday, the gambler who killed Ringo a century ago. Now, with "MPR" carved into her cell walls and time itself unraveling, she'll stop at nothing to prove her sanity by proving time travel is real—even if it means unleashing the very darkness that destroyed her.
Flight 1031: Cosmic Turbulence - by Julian Christian: Diplomatic courier Sarah Martinez boards Flight 1031 expecting routine turbulence, not a Halloween dimensional rift that strands her at Germania International Airport—where the Greater German Reich has ruled since 1943 and perfected technology to harvest souls from parallel realities through consciousness-scanning machinery that pulses with seventeen-beat rhythms. Now trapped in a terminal that breathes like a living organism, Sarah must navigate a world where every passenger hides a secret and her resistance could either save her timeline or doom infinite versions of humanity to eternal enslavement in a Reich that spans all dimensions.
Dream a Little Dream - by Jae El Foster: After a near-death car crash rewires her brain, Sarah's nightmares bleed into reality: sugar on the counter forms glyphs, bats appear out of nowhere in broad daylight, and her own hands betray her—while the velvet-eyed stranger from her dreams appears in her waking hours, his urgency growing as Halloween's veil thins. Now, with her reality twisting into something surreal and an ancient language hijacking her voice, she must confront a dark truth: her soul isn't hers to keep, and the man who saved her in death is the very entity hunting her in life.
Read an Excerpt From ‘Silverwood’ by Lynn Hubbard
Cindy looked up from where she was brushing Pepper as she heard laughter coming from outside. Pretending to be surprised, she looked up in time to see Matt and her brothers leading in their mounts. She laughed as she caught sight of them. “You two look like you belong in a pen!” She laughed gaily at their expense. Brad and Wade glanced at each other and started to descend upon her with their muddy hands reaching out. She squealed, realizing their intent, and was grateful when Matt jumped in front of her protectively.
“That’s enough. Why don’t you two get cleaned up? I’ll rub down your horses,” Matt said, smiling.
Wade and Brad looked at each other, astounded. Nobody had ever offered to do their chores before. They quickly headed to the house before Matt came to his senses.
Garrett chuckled. “I’ve never seen them move fast unless it was supper time!” He quickly rubbed down his horse and headed off to check on his wife after Matt assured him he could handle the rest. He finished rubbing down Tremor and slowly walked over to Pepper, not taking his eyes off Cindy.
“Is she okay?” he asked, kneeling down next to her leg and unwrapping it.
Cindy, her knees weak, sank down next to him carefully so she wouldn’t get her dress dirty. He hasn’t even noticed, she thought as she watched him tend to Pepper. Their knees touched, and she glanced up at him just as he was looking at her.
“She seems to be alright; she’s putting her weight on it now,” Cindy answered.
Matt nodded, rubbing his large hands up and down the horse’s leg. Cindy wondered what that would feel like, and she almost sighed. As if reading her thoughts, Matt turned toward her suddenly, roughly bumping her knee. Since she was balancing on her feet while kneeling, she automatically reached out for balance. Unfortunately, it turned out to be Matt’s thigh. His eyes deepened with desire at the contact. He smiled as Cindy’s eyes widened, realizing her mistake. She quickly stood to regain her composure. “Um… I’m sorry,” she mumbled, looking down at her shoes.
Matt stood up beside her. “Anytime,” he said, smiling at her. “But I think you’re right—I think she’ll be fine.”
Cindy looked at him quickly. Her brothers never took her opinions seriously. It was nice to meet someone who did—especially someone as attractive and intelligent as Matt. He gently touched her cheek and smiled before reluctantly returning to Wade’s horse. Cindy grabbed Brad’s, and they were done a short time later.
“You didn’t have to do that,” Matt said after they finished.
Cindy smiled. “Yes, I did. You’re the one that rescued me, remember?”
“It must be lonely for you living all by yourself.”
He shrugged. “You get used to it. Though sometimes I wonder what it’d be like to have a family.” He looked at her purposefully, and Cindy had to look away.
The supper bell clanged, and he was grateful for the reprieve. They walked the rest of the way, both lost in their own thoughts.
Dinner passed quickly. Garrett and her brothers occupied most of Matt’s attention, and he kept sending apologetic looks to Cindy. Beth watched Cindy like a hawk, giving Matt dirty looks. Matt carefully avoided her gaze while trying to catch Cindy’s and keep track of Garrett’s questions. As the sun sank into the horizon, he hastily excused himself and headed off into the night.
Cindy watched him go, perplexed.
She waited until everyone was asleep, then dressed quickly in riding pants and a wool coat, braiding her hair back tight. Storm whined once as she reached for her saddle but made no move to stop her.
“Stay,” she ordered reluctantly. The dog obeyed with a whimper.
The forest was quiet tonight—more than usual. The wind whispered through branches, and somewhere in the distance, a howl rose that made her bones vibrate.
She pulled her horse to a stop as a chill went down her spine. I know these woods and every creature that lives in them—none would make that call. Afraid for Matt’s safety, she increased her speed. She rode fast, the moon chasing her through the black canopy of limbs above. The trail to the Miller ranch glowed like a silver scar. She could feel something rising, thick in the air like a storm about to break. And then she was there. The house was dark; only the bunkhouse held light.
Hesitating, she dismounted and tied Pepper to a fence post. Could he be asleep already? She wondered as a twig snapped behind her. She spun around, shocked to face Lester with a crooked grin.
“He ain’t here, but I’ll be glad to keep you company,” Lester said, spitting out his wad of tobacco, his brown teeth grinning.
“M-M-M-Matt!” she cried in panic as she backed away. Another man stepped from the shadows and grabbed her from behind, a dirty hand covering her mouth.
Buy the Book
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0FS7DXSXX
Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/1849875
Barnes and Noble: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/toil-and-trouble-jae-el-foster/1148244179
Apple:https://books.apple.com/us/book/x/id6752260026
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/toil-and-trouble-17
Missing at Christmas by Deena Alexander Review
Missing at Christmas (Love Inspired Suspense) by Deena Alexander
About Missing at Christmas
Inspirational Romantic Suspense
Christian Mystery & Suspense
Setting - Montana
Publisher : Love Inspired Suspense
Print length : 208 pages
Paperback
ISBN-10 : 1335957367
ISBN-13 : 978-1335957368
Digital ISBN-13 : 978-0369772435
ASIN : B0DWN1VWZC
A dangerous family legacy. A race to save a baby in jeopardy.
When journalist Lexi McKenna receives a desperate call for help, she rushes to her sister’s home, only to find her sister dead and one of her twin nieces missing. With her past mafia ties resurfacing, Lexi must go on the run with agent Noah Thompson to protect herself from her father’s enemies. Although Lexi is the daughter of the mob boss who murdered Noah’s brother, Noah will do anything to take down her family—even work with her. As danger looms from all sides, they must find the abducted baby and dismantle a criminal empire before Lexi and her nieces end up as collateral damage.
From Love Inspired Suspense: Courage. Danger. Faith.
About Deena Alexander
- Webpage: http://deenaalexander.com/index.html
- Blog: http://deenaalexander.com/blog.html
- Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DeenaAlexanderAuthor
- Twitter/X: https://twitter.com/DeenaAlexanderA
- Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/20382104.Deena_Alexander
- BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/profile/deena-alexander
- Newsletter: https://dashboard.mailerlite.com/forms/492177/92188784823633445/share
- Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Deena-Alexander/author/B08C1VKZFZ
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Wednesday, October 15, 2025
The Black Rose by Frances Paul Excerpt & Giveaway
The Black Rose
Frances Paul
Publication date: October 14th 2025
Genres: Adult, Psychological Thriller
“Intense, a little bruising, and it doesn’t let you walk away untouched.”
— ★★★★★Reader Review
Some weapons are born. Others are made.
She is the perfect operative.
A discarded orphan, remade by the very hands that broke her.
Trained to seduce. Conditioned to kill. Reborn as Elara Everhart.They gave her new names. New faces. New identities, whichever the mission required.
Now, they call her Raina.
And they’ve sent her into the lion’s den.Her target: Axel Voss. Billionaire. Powerbroker. Threat.
He’s everything she was trained to dismantle.
But he sees too much. Speaks too little.
And when he touches her, he wakes something she was never meant to feel.She is the weapon they created.
But he’s the variable they never planned for.What begins as a mission spirals into obsession.
And survival will cost more than her cover.
Because the most dangerous thing isn’t failing the mission,
It’s forgetting who the real enemy is.If you love psychological thrillers with espionage, romantic suspense, and heart‑stopping twists, The Black Rose will keep you breathless until the very last page.
“To master the art of the strike, first let the target marinate in your charm and wit, until they are ripe for the taking.” – Elara Everhart
—
EXCERPT:
I stepped out of the cab and into the gallery, the air instantly changing around me. Heads turned. Eyes followed. The black Dolce & Gabbana dress I wore fit like it had been sewn onto my skin, elegant without trying, powerful without needing to speak. My hair, sleek and black, fell in glossy waves down my back, every strand precisely where it belonged. I walked with purpose, each step measured, as I took in the room.
It didn’t take long to find him.
Axel Voss stood in a more secluded wing of the gallery where the crowd had thinned. I spotted him across the space. His back was to me, dressed in a tailored dark gray suit that fit too perfectly to be anything but custom. His frame was lean and strong, his posture relaxed, hands tucked in his pockets as he studied a painting. He wasn’t just looking. He was dissecting it.
My attention moved to the guards. Two of them. Strategically placed in opposite corners of the room, trying not to look like security. They blended in well enough with the other patrons, but their eyes told the truth. Constantly scanning.
I inhaled and adjusted the strap of my dress. I ran my hands over my curves, making sure everything looked in place. My cue had come.
Each step felt burdened, as if what I was about to do had sunk deep into my limbs.
The rhythm of my heels against the marble echoed faintly. I moved closer, slipping into his orbit. I was near enough now for him to catch the light scent of my perfume, floral, soft, meant to linger without announcing itself.
I stopped beside him, eyes landing on the painting he was analyzing. It was abstract, wild with motion. Crimson slashed across the canvas, tangled with violent blues and fractured gold. The brushwork oscillated between jagged bursts and smooth sweeps, an unsettling mix of control and chaos.
I spoke, keeping my voice soft and level. Close enough to feel intimate, just loud enough to be heard.
“The intensity of the strokes is remarkable,” I said. “The way the colors collide feels almost violent, yet there’s a strange harmony in the chaos.”
He didn’t respond. Not verbally. But I felt it. His attention was on me now as much as the art. I let the silence stretch a second longer, then continued, my tone calm, analytical. “It’s as if the artist was fighting an inner battle. Conflict and catharsis, all bleeding onto the canvas. The jagged strokes speak of anger or defiance, but the way the hues blend reveals a deep vulnerability… like they couldn’t commit to full destruction.”
I leaned in just slightly, examining the layers of the painting, voice dropping.
“It’s the tension that makes it work. The pull between restraint and abandon. It feels… raw.”
The silence settled again, delicate but dense.
Then I allowed a smirk to touch my lips.
“Or maybe they just threw paint at the canvas after a bad day and decided to call it art.”
That broke it. He turned toward me, finally.
His eyes met mine.
Heat flashed between us. The force of his gaze hit harder than I expected.
My breath caught, not out of fear but from the pressure of it. He was already trying to read me.
I knew that look. He was hunting for the truth inside my performance.
I didn’t flinch.
Even when my pulse started to climb beneath my skin, I held my ground.
For a moment, neither of us said anything. The gallery around us faded. It was just him. Just me.
Then I stepped back, breaking the moment on my terms.
I turned without hesitation and walked away, slipping into the flow of bodies beyond the archway. My retreat was smooth.
Behind me, I felt his gaze linger, and so did the eyes of his guards.
I didn’t need to look back to know he was still watching the space I had just walked away from.
Back in the main gallery, I finally exhaled. The encounter had gone as planned. I had said what
I needed to. Played the part.
But the crackle between us wasn’t part of the plan.
And I felt it. Still pulsing through me.
This was only the beginning. One step into a game layered with risk, manipulation, and consequences I wasn’t sure I fully understood.
But I had just stepped onto the board.
And Axel Voss had noticed.
Author Bio:
Frances Paul is an author of emotionally charged, high-stakes fiction that captivates readers with its mix of psychological suspense, romance, and intricate plotting. Her work explores the fine line between love and survival, delving into themes of resilience, sacrifice, and the secrets we keep.
She is the author of Sea of Scars, a moving story of loss and redemption, and The Black Rose, a gripping psychological thriller that draws readers into a world where trust is dangerous and every choice carries lasting consequences.
With a distinctive voice and a cinematic style, Frances creates unforgettable characters and layered narratives that linger long after the final page. Her passion for storytelling comes from a lifelong fascination with the human heart and its capacity to endure even in the darkest of circumstances.
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