Night Blood Series by Melody Johnson

City Beneath
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Kensington Publishing/
Lyrical Press
Date of Publication: April 28,
ISBN: 1601834225
Number of pages: 256
Word Count: 91,999
Cover Artist: Kensington
Book Description:
As a journalist, Cassidy DiRocco
thought she had seen every depraved thing New York City’s underbelly had to
offer. But while covering what appears to be a vicious animal attack, she finds
herself drawn into a world she never knew existed. Her exposé makes her the
target of the handsome yet brutal Dominic Lysander, the Master Vampire of New
York City, who has no problem silencing her to keep his coven’s secrets safe…
But Dominic offers Cassidy
another option: ally. He reveals she is a night blood, a being with powers of
her own, including the ability to become a vampire. As the body count
escalates, Cassidy is caught in the middle of a vampire rebellion. Dominic
insists she can help him stop the coming war, but wary of his intentions,
Cassidy enlists the help of the charming Ian Walker, a fellow night blood. As
the battle between vampires takes over the city, Cassidy will have to tap into
her newfound powers and decide where to place her trust…
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Book 1:
Vampires Bite in
the Big Apple- notes from draft 1
Cassidy DiRocco,
I didn’t need to
believe in the paranormal to believe in monsters. I reported murders, rapes,
assaults, and robberies every day: men strangling wives, women stabbing lovers,
children shooting children. If someone had interviewed me last week—before I
was attacked and bitten and manipulated in the pursuit of everyone else’s
personal and conflicting agendas—I would have said that the world darkened a
little more with every sunset and turned a little more bloody and vengeful and
uncaring with each passing day. But I’d also have said that after almost ten
years in the business, I’m no longer surprised by anything I report.
If someone had
interviewed me last week, it wouldn’t have mattered how long I’d been in the
business; I’d have been dead wrong.
Humans aren’t
the only murderers and rapists and thieves in this city; the real
monsters—vampires and night bloods alike—have hopes and goals and desires just
like the humans. But without the limitations of a fragile human body, the
vampires achieve every goal and desire without consequence. Who can bring a
murderer to justice if the murderer can’t be arrested or detained? Who can
testify against a rapist when the victim can’t remember whether she’d been
raped or mugged? Who can stop a crime spree when no one realizes crimes are
even being committed?
No one, of
course, except for me.
Even after
everything this insane week taught me about the world, this city, and myself,
I’m still breathtakingly shocked by everything I reported—and, most especially,
by the one story I couldn’t.…
Chapter 1
Last Monday
I nearly limped
right past him, clouded by my own physical pain and the churning unease in my
gut, but the rattling hiss that growled from the alley tripped my interest. I
stopped walking. 
The night was
cool and quiet in the aftermath of sirens and flashing lights. My scalp tingled
in response to the noise emanating from the alley, and I thought of all the
things I should do: I should return to the main crime scene, I should finish my
interviews, I should write my story and submit it to print like a good,
reliable, by-the-book reporter. The hiss rattled from the alley again, but as
I’d never been one to leave questions unanswered, I slipped a can of pepper
spray from my brown leather, cross-body satchel and side-stepped into the alley
to find the source of the noise.
What I’d found
was a man, and the rattling hiss was his struggling, gurgling, uneven breaths.
His entire body was ravaged by third-degree burns. Tucked into a shadowed alley
between two buildings on the corner of Farragut Road and East 40th, he was
crouched down as if warding off an attacker—perhaps in his case a flamethrower—and
not moving. I cringed, thinking about the injury that was blocking his throat
to produce such a horrible rattling. Maybe he was crying. Maybe he was just
trying to breathe. I couldn’t decipher his expression because his burns were so
devastating. His face wasn’t really a face anymore beyond the rough
distinctions of a lump for a nose and a hole for a mouth. The unease churning
in my gut all night bottomed out. I wouldn’t have imagined that someone so
injured could still breathe.
Trading the
pepper spray for my cell phone, I dialed for Detective Greta Wahl.
“Wahl here.” She
answered on the fifth ring, just before I suspected my call would transfer to
voicemail. “I already gave you a statement, DiRocco. Let the other sharks have
a bite, will you?”
“I found another
victim, G.” I said without preamble.
“Alive? Where?”
Greta asked, snapping from friend to detective instantly.
“A block up
Farragut. He’s still breathing, but he’s different than the others. No bites.”
I swallowed the bile that clogged my throat like hot ash. “His entire body is
burned to charcoal.”
“Is he wearing a
necklace, like the ones from last week? They were gold with a wolf pendent.”
“I remember,” I
said. “And no, he’s not wearing a necklace. And he’s not shot execution-style
like those victims either. He’s burned. This is probably a different case all
Greta sighed.
“Stay with him. I’ll send a paramedic to you ASAP. It might be a few minutes,
though. We’ve still got our seven victims being stabilized here.”
“Got it. We’ll
be waiting.” I hesitated a fraction of a second before asking, “Any one of our
victims talking yet?”
“The few that
still have throats haven’t said a word. They’re all in shock. It’s not pretty
down here, DiRocco.”
“I know. Keep me
posted, and send Nathan to me if you can.”
“Will do,” Greta
I ended the call
and sat gingerly on the ground next to the man to offer what comfort I could
and to give my arthritic hip the rest it needed. Injuries were supposed to heal
with time, but the scar build-up on mine had only increased in the five years
since I’d taken a bullet. The first stakeout of my career had set a high
standard for my field performance, but it had also left a permanent reminder to
listen to my gut. My hip ached on a regular basis, and lately, it would click
and grind when put to excess use. After an entire day on my feet, interviewing
officers and tracking down witnesses, my activities had apparently escalated
way past excess.
Once I settled
on the pavement, I held the man’s left elbow—one of two visible patches of skin
not blackened or blistered—and felt an overwhelming, humbling gratitude, no
matter my past injuries or current residual pain, that none of these victims
had been me.
Last Drop
Name of series and book number in
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Kensington Publishing/
Lyrical Press
Date of Publication: April 26,
ISBN: 1601834241
Number of pages: 322
Word Count: 131,084
Cover Artist:  Kensington Publishing
Book Description:
Cassidy DiRocco knows the dark
side intimately—as a crime reporter in New York City, she sees it every day.
But since she discovered that she’s a night blood, her power and potential has
led the dark right to her doorway. With her brother missing and no one
remembering he exists, she makes a deal with Dominic Lysander, the fascinating
master vampire of New York, to find him.
Dominic needs the help of Bex,
another master vampire, to keep peace in the city, so he sends Cassidy to a
remote, woodsy town upstate to convince her—assuming she survives long enough.
A series of vicious “animal attacks” after dark tells Cassidy there’s
more to Bex and her coven than anyone’s saying. That goes double for fellow
night blood Ian Walker, the tall, blond animal tracker who’s supposed to be her
ally. Walker may be hot-blooded and hard-bodied, but he’s hiding something too.
If Cassidy wants the truth, she’ll have to squeeze it out herself… every last
Amazon     Kindle     Kobo     Apple     Google
Book 2:
Vampires Bite in
the Big Apple- notes from draft 4
Cassidy DiRocco,
Nightmares are
supposed to stay in dreams, but for the past three weeks, absolutely nothing,
not even my dreams, are as they’re supposed to be. Reality is the nightmare.
When murderers, rapists, thieves, and gangs were my choice topics to report, I
was sickened and made unendurably angry by what people were capable of doing to
other people. Now, I’m just sickened by what I’m capable of, and I can’t sleep
at all.
After sunset I
see vampires lurking in every shadow, pressing against every doorway,
committing every murder. Reality is further from anything I could have
imagined, and I feel helpless against the enormity of Dominic’s reach. What’s
the point of breaking my lease when Dominic will just demand entrance into my
new apartment? Whom can I confide in about my life after dark without putting
them at risk?
The one question
that haunts me most is ironically one that I struggled to answer long before
stumbling upon Dominic’s existence. It haunted me after my parents died and I
struggled with Percocet addiction—how long will I search for the answers before
buckling under the unbearable truth that my efforts were futile from the start?
My brother
disappeared three weeks ago. In another three months, will the agony of
Nathan’s absence still drive my efforts or drive me insane? When do I draw the
line between hope and insanity—in another three years? Unfortunately for me and
everyone’s peace of mind, I don’t think there are lines for love. Love is
already insane, so the only answer is to drive toward the truth….
Chapter 1
The bus ride
from The Big Apple to Erin, New York gradually descended from the metropolitan
area to suburbs, from suburbs to woodsy small towns, and then to nothing but
fields and sheds and, of course, cows. I’d never seen so many cows in my life.
Considering I’d never actually seen a cow in person, I suppose that wasn’t much
of a statement, but it certainly seemed like Erin had an over-abundance of
them. Their mooing reminded me of Dominic’s night blood-and-hamburger metaphor
when he’d described how my blood tasted. “You are a rare dish,” he’d said, and
I’d been terrified by his attraction.
As a night
blood, I was one of the rare humans who had the blood type necessary to
complete the transformation into a vampire, but just because I had the
potential to become a vampire didn’t mean I wanted to become one. That was only
one of many points of contention between Dominic and me, albeit one of our more
vehement disagreements.
I was still
terrified of Dominic, attraction or not, but terror could only hold so much immediacy
for so long, especially when the object of my terror was being relatively
civil. Dominic, Master Vampire of New York City, and swiftly becoming a master
pain in my ass, had visited me on numerous occasions at the hospital while I
recovered from my encounter with Jillian. He visited me at home once I’d been
released from the hospital. He visited me in the office when I returned to work
and outside the office at every starlit opportunity.
I suppose guilt
may have played a role in his consistent and regular visits, considering
Jillian had been both his vampire and the second in command of his coven, and
somehow, I had been the one to take the biggest hit when she’d betrayed him.
But I doubt that guilt was his only motivation; when he came calling, he was
always fully fed, completely gorgeous, and the ultimate gentleman.
I knew better
than to believe the illusion.
In his infinite
patience, I think Dominic was biding his time, and I suspected it had
everything to do with this very road trip to Erin, New York, Ian Walker’s
hometown, and the resting place of Walker’s abundantly powerful coven Master,
however, wasn’t the only one biding his time, although Walker had been
decidedly less patient.
“I can’t wait to
see you, darlin’,” Walker had said at least once per conversation during the
multiple phone calls we’d enjoyed daily for three weeks. I would have found his
persistence coming from someone else nauseating, but between all the darlin’s
and ma’ams, we shared an indelible bond that went beyond incorrigible
Walker was the
only other night blood I knew, the only other person who knew that vampires
existed, and the only person who could relate to the danger and drama of my
life. Meredith, photographer at The Sun Accord and my very best friend, didn’t
know anything about vampires or night bloods because telling her anything about
my life these days—or more pointedly, these nights—would only put her at risk.
But she most certainly knew the look on my face when my phone rang, and Walker
greeted me on the opposite end.
Meredith assured
me that I owed it to myself to discover how deep my bond with Walker could
grow, but I remained skeptical of both him and my feelings for him. We’d only physically
known each other for one week. How well could I legitimately come to know a
person in one week? But when I looked back at the week we’d shared and
survived, I swallowed my doubts.
 “Pu-lease, you say that to all the girls,” I
said to him. My tone was deliberately sarcastic, but I was glad we were talking
on the phone; he’d know by my ridiculous smile that I was just as excited to
finally see him, too. “You forget that I’ve seen you in action.”
“You certainly
have.” Walker’s voice deepened salaciously and I was reminded of that one night
in my office. He’d lifted me onto my desk, and his strong hands had touched me
in places I’d never thought I could feel again.
I swallowed. “My
point is that this is a business trip. Carter finally approved my piece on city
versus rural New York crime fluctuations—”
“That I
encouraged you to write,” Walker interrupted.
I rolled my
eyes. “—and as one of my primary sources, you and I will—”
“Be spending hours
upon hours alone together.”
“For interviews
on your experiences and discussions on crime rates and—”
“I have an
experience I’d like to discuss: how delicious your body felt against mine.”
I sighed
heavily. “You’re killing me.”
Walker laughed.
“I really am
writing this story, Walker, despite your ulterior motives for inviting me to
your home.” 
“You like my
ulterior motives. The most grievous crime at the moment is how long it took for
your boss to approve your damn story. I miss you, DiRocco.”
I swallowed
again and forced myself to say the words because they were true. “I miss you,
And now, after
three weeks of pitching this story to Carter, avoiding Greta—my personal
friend, and unfortunately, one of NYPD’s finest—and her stink-eyed interrogation,
bracing against Dominic’s creeping advances, and swallowing my festering doubts
about Nathan, I had finally arrived in Erin, New York earlier this afternoon
for what should have been a vacation from all those demons back in the city.
Less than twenty-four hours into our reunion, however, and Walker and I still
weren’t putting the moves on either my career or each other. He’d barely had
time to give me a proper tour of the town before we were once again staring at
a body.
Her name was
Lydia Bowser, and she was last seen by her grandmother, leaving the farm for a
walk before dinner. According to her grandmother and Walker’s detailed notes,
she left for a walk before dinner every night. She’d loved the last moments of
daylight, when the sun had already dipped below the horizon but its rays still
lit the sky with a dim, burning glow. I raised my eyebrows at the description,
both from its nostalgia and its telling timeframe. Foul play after dark meant
only one thing.
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Kensington Publishing/
Lyrical Press
Date of Publication: April 25,
ISBN: 1601834268
Number of pages: 330
Word Count: 110,974
Cover Artist: Kensington
Book Description:
Last week, Cassidy DiRocco had
some influence over the vampires that stalk the streets of New York City. She
was never completely safe, but with her newfound abilities as a night blood and
her honed instincts as a crime reporter, at least she had the necessary skills
to survive.

Now, thanks to the injuries she
sustained while saving her brother from a fate worse than death, she’s lost her
night blood status just as another crime spree hits Brooklyn. Dozens of people
are being slaughtered, and each victim bears the Damned’s signature mark; a
missing heart.

Cassidy will need the help of all
her allies to survive the coming war, including the mysterious and charismatic
Dominic Lysander, Master Vampire of New York City. But as his rival’s army
threatens his coven and his own powers weaken with the approaching Leveling,
even Dominic’s defenses might not be enough protection.

With nothing left to lose, can
Cassidy find the power inside herself to save Dominic, his coven, their city,
and survive?
Kobo      Apple
Book 3:
Chapter 1
Dominic looked
pretentious and posh, as usual, leaning against the wall in the hallway outside
my apartment. Even gazing at him through the fish-eye lens of my door’s
peephole—from the top of his immaculately cut and styled black hair to the
bottom of his shiny Cole Haan wing-tipped dress shoes—he was a hopeful-mother’s
dream, a shrewd-woman’s nightmare, and the reason I no longer bothered trying
to sleep at night. Knowing the truth beneath the pretty wrapping—that he was
the Master vampire of New York City—didn’t stop my heart from jumping and
dropping in confused anticipation and adrenaline. After I’d nearly lost him
last week, I’d come to the implausible, unwelcome conclusion that I actually
preferred my life with him in it, but since I’d completely lost the protection
and mental strength of my night blood, his unexpected presence also twisted my
gut with pure, unadulterated fear. 
I hadn’t seen
Dominic in five nights, not since he’d entranced his name from my mind and
confirmed our worst suspicion: I no longer had night blood.
Without night
blood, I didn’t have the potential to transform into a vampire, I couldn’t
reflect Dominic’s commands if he attempted to entrance me, and I no longer had
any of the qualities that Dominic held in such high esteem, that he’d planned
to leverage during the Leveling; the one night every seven years that he lost
his strength and abilities as Master to his potential successor, allowing a new
Master to rise in his stead. Without those qualities, I couldn’t help him
survive the coming battle to keep control of his coven. I was nothing but
another human.
I was nothing
but food.
Dominic knocked
a second time, this series of staccato raps on the door more insistent than the
“Who’s at the
door?” Meredith asked. Her eyebrows rose and disappeared behind her bangs.
Of course, on
the one night Dominic finally decided to confront me, I had company. I should
be grateful; he was knocking on the door rather than inviting himself in
through one of the third-story, living room windows. That would have been
difficult to explain to Meredith. Longtime best friend and wing woman at the
Sun Accord she was, but night blood she wasn’t.
“I’m hoping if I
wait long enough, he’ll give up and go away.”
“He?” Meredith
asked. A mischievous smiled curved her lips.
“It’s probably
best to answer the door of your own will,” Nathan murmured.
I stared at my
brother, surprised that he’d uttered a full, intelligible sentence beyond
“We’re out of milk” or something equally inane. Inane seemed all he was capable
of lately.
“He’ll make it
worse for you otherwise,” he added.
I ignored
Meredith and narrowed my eyes on Nathan. “How do you know who’s at the door?”
Nathan dropped
his gaze to the cereal bowl in front of him and continued spooning scraps of
shredded wheat and milk into his mouth without further comment.
Maybe he’d
actually keep the food down this time. Then we could work on gradually
introducing warm meals and protein back into his diet.
I worried the
doorknob with my thumb. Nathan might have been monosyllabic and near bulimic
since returning to the city, but he was right. If I didn’t open the door of my
own will, Dominic would probably force me to grant him entrance into my new
apartment. A tenuous spring of hope coiled in my gut. Maybe, just maybe, my
efforts to create a fallout shelter here in the city had been a success; maybe
I didn’t need to worry about entry, forced or otherwise.
I might have put
my newly fortified apartment to the test, but with Meredith sitting at my
kitchen table, a slice of sushi roll halfway to her mouth, the risk of exposing
her to the danger standing on my doorstep wasn’t worth the pleasure of denying
Dominic entrance.
I opened the
Dominic smiled,
deliberately flashing his sharp, elongated fangs. “Good evening, Cassidy.”
His voice purred
in a deep timbre that plucked at the taut cords in my stomach. I squelched the
feelings, but after weeks of denial, I could finally admit that they existed.
“What are you
doing here?” I whispered.
He raised a
perfectly arched eyebrow. “No ‘Hello?’ No ‘What a pleasant surprise?’” Dominic
tsked his tongue against the back of his teeth. “Where are your manners?”
“What a
surprise,” I muttered, deliberately omitting “pleasant.” “You should have called
before coming, Dominic.”
He inhaled
sharply. The fragile hope that softened his expression shamed me.
“Don’t,” I
warned, keeping my voice low in an effort to prevent Meredith from overhearing.
“I didn’t remember your name on my own. Nathan reminded me. It still feels like
a void, like Nathan telling me your name four days ago was the first I’d
learned it.”
His face fell.
“That’s unfortunate.”
I sighed. “Are
you only here to antagonize me, or was there an actual purpose to this visit?”
you would be purpose enough, but yes, I have a greater purpose than even that,”
Dominic said, magnanimously. “Must we converse in the hallway? I don’t believe
I’ve had the pleasure of seeing your new apartment. Won’t you invite me in?”
the Author:
Melody Johnson is the author of
the gritty, paranormal romance Night Blood series set in New York City. The
first installment, The City Beneath, was a finalist in several Romance Writers
of America contests, including the “Cleveland Rocks” and “Fool For Love”
contests. Melody graduated magna cum laude from Lycoming College with her B.A.
in creative writing and psychology, and after moving from her northeast
Pennsylvania hometown for some much needed Southern sunshine, she now works as
a digital media coordinator for Southeast Georgia Health System. When she isn’t
working or writing, Melody can be found swimming at the beach, honing her
newfound volleyball skills, and exploring her new home in southeast Georgia.


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Her Black Soul by A.J. Norris


Her Black Soul
The Dark Amulet Series
Book Three
A.J. Norris
Genre: PNR
Publisher: Limitless Publishing, LLC
Date of Publication: April 11, 2017
Cover Artist: Deranged Doctor Design
Tagline: Sometimes the fight for your soul is a battle you can’t win.
Book Description:
Humans call it Hell. She calls it home…
Evita the Warrior has no memory of the life she led as an angel before her fall. The only place she knows is the fiery world full of goat-demons and animal-headed beasts. Despite many opportunities to flee, she chooses to remain. 
Virgil the Redeemer lost his mate centuries ago and has given up all hope of finding her…
Accepting that Evita will never return to him, Virgil eases his loneliness in the arms of different females, refusing to get attached, though his selfish ways leave a trail of heartbroken and angry lovers in his wake. During a night of drinking, Virgil hooks up with a demon in disguise and is captured by the Demon Ruler, Abaddon, and taken to Netherworld.
Trapped in Netherworld, Virgil faces an eternity of unendurable torment…
But it’s there Virgil finds his lost love. Overcome by joy at the reunion, he convinces her to leave Netherworld…only to discover the true reason Abaddon lured him to his realm.
Evita has a secret buried in her forgotten past…a secret the Demon Ruler could use to lay waste to the Earth…
Abaddon knows Evita hid an amulet on Earth before she fell—and he wants it back. To thwart him, Evita must recapture her memories of her life before her fall, and remember where she hid the amulet.
Can she unlock her past and beat the enemy to the prize in time to save the Earthly Realm from falling prey to Abaddon’s deadly plans?
Author Reading First Chapter:

Evie was more
beautiful than he remembered. They sat crouched together on the ground. A
smudge of dirt was streaked across her jawline and chin. Light from a torch far
above their heads shone down. Her eyelashes cast shadows on her high
cheekbones. Her black horns hadn’t diminished her looks. Partly because he
loved her and nothing could interfere with that, and also he knew they were
actually once golden wings. Even in the dimly lit cavern, he saw her blush. She
was a fierce Warrior class angel in combat, but somewhat demure. His mate
concealed the protrusions with her hands.
He tried his
best to smile. “Do not worry about those.”
“Ohhhh,” the
Damned soul garbled. Virgil helped Evie up and shielded her with his big body.
The soul inched his way toward the cavern’s entrance on his stomach with his
head facing up, leaving a bloody trail in his wake.
“Let’s get out
of here,” Virgil said, taking her hand. The cool metal cuff reminded him they
wouldn’t be getting far. Pools of molten rock lay on either side of the path
leading to the Void cavern. Leaving her side, he searched around for something
to chip the stone wall surrounding the anchors to free her chains.
On the far wall,
near the people chained for punishment, Virgil spotted a pointed iron rod.
Trying to break Aba’s chains was useless, but the walls weren’t under the
Ruler’s control. Virgil focused on the metal staff as he approached. The
chained Damned didn’t look as disgusting at a distance, although up close…oh
Deus. Intestines spilled out onto the floor, eyeballs hung from sockets, and
one was missing its lower jaw. Strike that. Not missing. On the ground in a
pool of bodily fluids…
Virgil covered
his mouth until he realized his own hand was coated in feces and coughed in
disgust. “Yuk.” He dreamed of a hot shower. Many hot showers. He grabbed the
rod and ran back to Evie and started chipping away at the wall.
“What are you
doing?” she questioned.
us…out…of here,” he said between jabs. Stone chunks flew.
“But I don’t
want to go anywhere.”
His heart
constricted and died a little bit, except he didn’t stop chipping away. He
switched to the other side of the anchor. Pebbles and dust landed on the
she begged.
“No. You’re
coming with me.”
“But I told you
I don’t want to.”
 The last bit of wall gave way and the anchor
clanked to the ground. They stared at each other for a moment. “You wanted me
to tell you how I knew your name, did you not?”
“Yeah, but—”
“That is the
Evie narrowed
her eyes. “That wasn’t our deal.”
He splayed his
hands and shrugged. “It is now.”
“You can’t
change the rules.”
“Are you going
to come willingly or do I have to carry you out of here? Your choice, but I’m
warning you, I’m not leaving without you.”

About the Author:
A.J. Norris is a romantic suspense and dark paranormal romance author. She enjoys being able to get inside someone else’s head, even a fictional one, and see what they see. Watching how her characters deal with difficult situations or squirm with the uncomfortable ones makes the hard work of writing all worth it. However, writing and reading weren’t always in her foremost thoughts. In fact, her love affair with writing came as a shock to everyone she knows, including herself. At a young age, she rarely opened a book, unless forced to read something for school. But that’s all behind her now. She wrote her first book several years ago, which turned out to be a surprisingly cathartic process, and she hasn’t been able to stop writing since.
A.J. loves going to the movies, watching her son play baseball, and communing with other writers. She’s a member of two writer’s groups and RWA. She lives in southeastern Michigan with her family, who are extremely tolerant (at least most of the time) of all her late nights behind the computer.
Along with contributing to Magical Pages Book Blog & Reviews, she’s currently working on book two of her Tattoo Crimes Series.
Her romantic suspense novel, Tattoo Killer (Book 1 of the Tattoo Crimes series), was published by Limitless, LLC in October 2016. Her Black Wings, book one of The Dark Amulet Series, a paranormal romance, released in July 2016 and book two, Her Black Heart released August 23, 2016. The third book in her Dark Amulet series, Her Black Soul, comes out April 11, 2017.


Spellbound: A Limited Edition Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Collection


Spellbound: A Limited Edition Paranormal Romance and Urban Fantasy Collection
Bleeding Hearts
Ash Krafton
Genre: fantasy/ paranormal romance/ urban fantasy
Publisher: genreCRAVE
Date of Publication: May 2, 2017
Number of pages: 5000+
Word Count: 1.5 Million +
Cover Artist: Rebecca Frank
Box Set Description:
The Spellbound Boxed Set is a compilation of 20+ Full-Length Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance reads!
Readers of all ages will be swept away by this fascinating mix of existing titles and brand new content, full of pages brimming with faeries, witches, vampires, shifters, psychics, Greek gods, angels, demons, and even ghosts!
With over a million words of fiction, this is your one stop shop for urban fantasy, epic fantasy, sword and sorcery, shifter romance, vampire romance, elemental magic, time travel, and MORE from today’s New York Times, USA Today, and internationally bestselling authors!
Although some of these reads may be gritty and dark, this is a collection of clean reads that anyone will enjoy!
Pre-Order Sale Only .99
Amazon      Kobo      BN      Apple
The collection includes titles from…
International bestselling author Jade Kerrion
NEW YORK TIMES bestselling author Joanne Wadsworth
International bestselling author Nicole Zoltack
International bestselling author Rachel E. Carter
International bestselling author Andrea Pearson
International bestselling author Alicia Rades
International bestselling author Sophie Davis
USA TODAY bestselling author Michael J Ploof
International bestselling author Megan Crewe
International bestselling author C.E. Wilson
International bestselling author Kelly Carrero
International bestselling author Jess Haines
International bestselling author E. Blix
International bestselling author Alexis Kade
International bestselling author GP Ching
International bestselling author Gaja J. Kos and Boris Kos
International bestselling author Dara Fraser
International bestselling author Ash Krafton
International bestselling author Jim Johnson
NEW YORK TIMES bestselling author Tom Shutt
International bestselling author Emily Martha Sorensen
International bestselling author S McPherson
 The first chapters of books by each featured author are available in the Spellbound Sampler, available on Wattpad
Book Description Bleeding Hearts by Ash Krafton
Sophie Galen is an advice columnist whose work leaves her neck-deep in other people’s problems. Thanks to her compassion, her gut instinct, and her magnetic charm, Sophie really knows how to attract little black clouds.
Marek Thurzo is no little black cloud; he’s a maelstrom. Marek is Demivampire, a race with the potential to evolve into vampire. A warrior who’s taken his share of spiritual damage, he hovers dangerously close to destruction.
He seeks salvation. She’s driven to save him. But what if he can’t be saved?
Sympathy for his plight becomes true empathy as Sophie’s hidden nature is revealed. Marek suspects she may be one of the Sophia, oracle and redemption of the damned Demivampire. She alone can turn back the evolutionary clock.
All she needs is the courage to face her fears. Can she save him from Falling?
following is an excerpt from BLEEDING HEARTS Demimonde Book 1 by Ash Krafton
In the great
hall housing the Egyptian exhibitions, I immediately noted the change in the
atmosphere. The room was cool and dry, its climate controlled to mimic the conditions
in which the relics had existed in their native land.
The entire room
had been designed to resemble an Old Kingdom temple. The main lights were
dimmed while strategically-placed spotlights emphasized massive columns and
magnificent wall carvings like sunbeams through temple windows.
I scanned the
room. No other tourists. Even better. I meandered, enjoying the rare
opportunity to linger.
Craning my neck,
I ran my gaze up each of the columns, reading the images, admiring the palm
leaves carved at the tops like great stone trees. Eyes toward the ceilings, I
turned slowly around, admiring the handiwork of the ancient artists.
What was it like
to live in those lands and those times? Could an ancient version of my spirit
have been there, stepping barefoot and silently through a sandy temple like
this one?
Lost in
contemplation, I was completely unprepared for the shock of smacking into
someone, bumping him hard enough to lose my balance. I’d have fallen had he not
caught my arm. Wide-eyed with consternation, I stammered an apology to the
handsome but serious-faced gentleman.
“You are
not hurt, I hope?” His voice, deep and smooth, sent shivers marching down
my neck, between my shoulders, down my spine.
okay.” I shook my head, too shy to make direct eye contact, wishing I’d
checked my hair and lipstick before coming in. “I’m far too adept at being
He flashed a
grin and I caught a glimpse of nice white teeth. “Temples are places for
spiritual reflection. It is forgivable if your vision was turned inward, rather
than toward where you were walking.”
His expression
softened by amusement, he tilted his head toward the pillars. “Majestic,
aren’t they?”
I stole another
glance at him—black hair smoothed back into a discreet tail, clear light skin
framed by long sideburns, strong jaw culminating in a square, cleft chin. Like
the other items in the museum, something about him made me want to look closer,
inspect each detail.
A subtle flush
warmed my cheeks and ears so I quickly turned back to the heights of the
exhibition. Murmuring a sound of agreement, I circled the column, stepping a
few feet away so I could see both him and the stone. “Do you visit this
museum often?”
Furtive glances
allowed me to take in more of his appearance a tiny section at a time. Clothing
dark as his hair. Long blazer, something in between a suit coat and an
overcoat. In one hand he carried a bound book and fountain pen, as if he’d been
making notes.
His gaze was
calm and steady and entirely on me. Taking a deep breath I permitted the
contact of the direct look. My boldness was well-rewarded. His Paul Newman lips
brought to mind the sculptured busts on display in the Greco-Roman Quarters and
he wore a stern expression that cast a veil of hardness upon his features,
enhancing the impression he’d been carved from marble.
Except for his
eyes. The Roman busts bore eyes that were blank and white but this man’s eyes
were alive with bright green color. Like gemstones, they glittered and drew my
actually,” he said. “My first time here. Although, I admit, I’m drawn
to places like this.” His voice made music of the words—deep bass notes
and soothing rhythm.
I said. “A man after my own heart.” His left eyebrow arched so
sharply I thought it might disappear into his hairline and I hurriedly
continued. “Are you a professor?”
nothing like that. I do studying of my own, it’s not a living. It’s more of a
hobby. Personal research, of sorts.”
past times is one of my pastimes. It’s my preferred form of
Eyebrow cocked again, he cast a disapproving look at me and swept his hand
around the contrived temple. “Would the gods be pleased to know they are
reduced to the level of entertainment?”
“I hope
so.” I kept my tone light. Considering the seriousness of his expression,
I didn’t want to accidentally insult him. “Otherwise, they’d have to be
content with staying dead, right?”
His gaze swept
over me and I shivered again as if the touch had been tangible, a brush of
fingertips against my cheek.
“Well, I’ll
leave you to your worship. I mean, your wanderings.” He gave me a
conspirator’s wink. “Unless…”
He hesitated,
with a quiet clearing of throat as he tucked his notebook and pen into an
inside pocket. “You wouldn’t mind a companion? Sometimes one sees things
differently when seeing through another’s eyes. I would appreciate a new
I mulled it
over, listening to the rain spattering the windows and distant voices echoing
faintly from other rooms. Although I’d looked forward to a quiet afternoon, it
might be nice to spend it with someone who seemed to share my interests. He
certainly was attractive, and his pleasant voice intrigued me.
I realized I’d
become used to living inside a shell. This man made me want to step outside for
“I’d like
that.” I smiled at his pleased expression. “I’m Sophie, by the
way.” I stuck out my hand in introduction.
Instead of
shaking my hand, he bent his head over it and pressed polite lips to the backs
of my fingers. The quaint gesture would have seemed strange and out of place
had we been elsewhere. “I am Marek. Pleased to make your
Fingers tingling
from the unexpected kiss, I fought the urge to curtsy. “Well, Marek. Lead
me into the past.”
His almost-smile
sent a thrill down the back of my neck. “That’s exactly the sort of thing
I’d hoped you say. Shall we?”
He turned on his
heel and swept out a hand with a slight bow, indicating the archway to another
exhibit. For the first time since I’d been coming to this museum, I wondered
what I’d see on the other side, and was surprised to realize I wasn’t afraid to
find out.


About the Author:
A speculative fiction girl through and through, Ash writes paranormal romance and urban fantasy novels as well as poetry and short fiction. She also writes for New Adult audiences under the name AJ Krafton. Her work has won a bunch of awards and was even nominated for a Pushcart Prize. When she’s not writing, she’s practicing Tai Chi, listening to loud rock and metal, or crushing on supervillains.
Most recently, she’s re-released her urban fantasy trilogy THE BOOKS OF THE DEMIMONDE because she never really left the world of Sophie and her Demivamps. She’s also working on the next installment of her Demon Whisperer series.
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