Sacred Legacy by Kat Flannery

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CHAPTER ONE

Jamestown, Virginia, July 1740

Tsura Harris lifted the hem of her green skirt and stepped up onto the wooden plank. She

clutched her reticule in her right hand and reached for the rope with her left. The planked bridge

swayed as the boat rocked against the seas. She stared at the water below. White-capped waves

crashed along the ship’s hull, rocking the boat. She inhaled, forced her chin up, and took another

step. She walked the short distance to the boardwalk, releasing the breath she’d held when her

boot touched land. She planted both feet upon the wooden dock and set her shoulders, but the

reminder of why she was here intensified the weight upon her chest. Despair was her shadow, and

Her brother’s deep, masculine shout came from above.

She shaded her eyes from the hot afternoon sun and peered up at him. His stature always

shocked her. Micah Walker was six foot with broad shoulders and strong arms, a spitting image

of their father, Kade. His white shirt gaped open to show the tanned skin beneath, a sign of too

many days out on the water. Long blond hair waved in the breeze. Her handsome brother had his

pick of the ladies, but still hadn’t settled down. It was a shame. She knew he wanted children and

a wife of his own, but his heart belonged to the sea and time would lend him those favors only

“You must wait,” he called and raced past his men carrying crates of goods onto the wharf.

She placed her bag onto the wooden walk and clasped her gloved hands together.

He reached her, his cheeks glowing and dark eyes lit with mischief. Before she could

discourage him, he picked her up and swung her around. Her boots kicked the bag, knocking it

over, as his strong arms held her tight.

Micah had always been affectionate. He never shied away from holding her hand, kissing her

cheek, or teasing her like a brother would. He’d come to her side when she needed him the most.

When her life had fallen apart, and she couldn’t see past her own misery to pick herself up. He

had carried her, and she loved him for it.

“You cannot go off without wishing me well.” He smiled down at her.

“If you would simply release me, I’d be able to make it so,” she retorted. He was the only

one, aside from her mother and father, who she allowed to touch her.

“Very well, nit.” He set her in front of him. The nickname he used for her was one of

endearment and came from her pestering him as a child.

“Thank you.” She smoothed her skirt before bringing her eyes to meet his.

“You do not need to do this.”

She glanced away unable to stare at him any longer.

She shook her head. The urge to leave caused her legs to shake. She couldn’t be around him

any longer. His cheerful disposition haunted her and made her think of things she’d rather forget.

“I know you don’t want to speak of this, but—”

“Tsura, you need to forgive—”

“Forgiveness is not within my heart.”

She shook her head, careful not to release the many pins holding her thick corkscrew curls in

“Do not speak to me of forgiveness, brother. My heart is cold to it.”

His dark eyes watered, and she knew her words had hurt him, but she didn’t care. It was

“Will you not reconsider?”

“Please stay. I will protect you.”

Protection was not what she needed. She could care less if she died. It’d be a relief from the

“I should’ve taken you to mother and father.”

“Do not speak to them of my presence here.”

Micah sighed. “As you wish.”

“I must go.” Anger pressed on her spine, and she straightened.

“I port back in Jamestown one month to this day. You will be here.”

It was not a question, and she didn’t know if a month would be enough. Would the time

between then and now ever fade from her soul? Would she be ready to return? She didn’t know if

she could go back and so she didn’t answer.

“Hiram knows of you coming?”

“Very well.” He straightened and smiled. “Know that I love you.”

She fought the tears. If Micah saw one ounce of sadness within her, he’d throw her back

aboard the Jade and take her with him.

“As I you.” She refused to say the words.

He picked up her bag and handed it to her.

“Thank you. Now go. You have work to do and whores to see.” She smirked.

“Ah, that I do.” He pulled her into a final embrace. “You will find your way. I am sure of it.”

He held her away from him, and his eyes searched hers. “Remember who you are.”

She pressed on his chest and stepped out of his embrace. She couldn’t help the furrow of her

brow or the set of her chin. The reminders of the life she led were never to be forgotten, and

because of that she’d be forever lost.

Micah sensed the change in her and left it alone. He bowed, and with a final kiss to her

She turned, unable to watch him go, raised to believe it was a sign of weakness, of regret to

watch one leave your life. This was meant to be. The world around her had tilted, and even

though she wanted nothing more than to go back in time to the lavish house on the hill where

she’d felt content, where laughter was but an expression upon her lips, she could not. What had

been was no more, and she’d do right to remember it. One year had passed, but the ache inside

 

 
 
Sacred Legacy
The Branded Trilogy
Book 3
Kat Flannery
Genre: Historical western paranormal romance
Publisher: Imajin Books
Date of Publication: July 31, 2016
Number of pages: 175
Word Count: 72,000
Cover Artist: Ryan Thomas Doan
Book Description:
Tsura is a Chuvani, and with that comes great power…
Desperate to escape the memories that haunt her, Tsura Harris returns to Jamestown, the very place her mother forbade her to go. A gifted Chuvani, Tsura has sworn off all magick, thus making her vulnerable to the Renoldi clan, who wish to kill her and take the pendant that is the key to her power.
Red Wolf is hell-bent on living his life on the sea, until he runs into Tsura on the docks. His pride wounded from her rejection years before, he hoped to never see her again. But when the evil Corsair, Romulus Black, demands to know where she is, Red Wolf must protect her, as is his duty.

But is duty and honor his only reason, or does Red Wolf still carry a flame of love in his heart? And will Tsura finally discover her destiny?

 
About the Author:
Kat Flannery’s love of history shows in her novels. She is an avid reader of historical, suspense, paranormal, and romance. She has her Certificate in Freelance and Business Writing. A member of many writing groups, Kat enjoys promoting other authors on her blog. She’s been published in numerous periodicals throughout her career.
Her debut novel CHASING CLOVERS has been an Amazon Top 100 Paid bestseller. LAKOTA HONOR and BLOOD CURSE (Branded Trilogy) are Kat’s two award-winning novels and HAZARDOUS UNIONS is Kat’s first novella. Kat is currently hard at work on her next book.

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Dead Girls Don’t Cry by Casey Wyatt

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Excerpt:

Suddenly, I wasn’t the biggest, baddest thing on the block.

Revenants.

They always traveled in packs. Enough of them could take me down. Revenants were

cousins to vampires, undead beings with too much spirit. Essentially ghosts with physical reality.

I picked up the pace, steering toward the middle of the street and well away from dark

corners. If I had a heart rate, it would have been pounding. My blood was rare and prized. One

sip and the revenants would keep me alive to serve as a drink dispenser.

I fished through my bag. Where was my cell? Jonathan would come. Provided I could

find the damn phone.

Meaty thwacks rang out in the alley as I passed by.

Do not look.

A soft oomph, followed by a clipped English accent, “Try that again, bastards.”

I looked.

Shit.

A lone and gorgeous male vampire had been captured. Three revenants had him pinned

against the wall. Two held his arms and one pinned his legs. Three more surrounded him like a

pack of knife-wielding hyenas.

The vampire snarled. Long fangs bared, presumably pissed off at his capture. With his

sculptured physique, he could handle the situation. Right?

None of the baddies had noticed me yet. I could leave.

Another punch landed, connecting with the vamp’s mouth. The crack echoed in the alley.

Liquid splattered, followed by cruel laughter.

The vampire hottie spat, his lip broken. Blood trickled down his jaw, seeping into the

stark white collar of his button down shirt. “Think twice before you cut me, mate. I’ll smash all

of your fucking heads in.”

“Shut up, meat.”

One added, “I’m so scared,” before swinging his knife and tearing a gash in the

vampire’s chest. The pack laughed. A revenant approached the vampire with IV bags.

Crap-a- roni, now I had to get involved. They planned to bleed him out. That’s what

revenants did. They took a vampire’s blood and drained him or her dry. The blood was then sold

to the highest revenant bidder. They believed our blood could remove the excess spirit from their

bodies, returning them to their true vampire form.

Problem is—it’s a myth. There’s no way for a revenant to become a vampire, any more

than I could become a zebra if I wanted to. These guys were zealots. Deranged lunatics.

“This is your last warning, blokes,” Mr. Sexy English accent said. I tried not to shiver at

the sound of his rich voice. Heady whiffs of his sweet scented blood drifted my way. Like a fine

wine, the smell promised a delicious and satisfying taste. Saliva pooled in my mouth. My fangs

dug into my bottom lip.

“Well lookee here!”

Damn. I should have run when I had the chance. The pack turned in my direction, their

faces eager for more blood. I cringed under the gaze of the hollow-eyed, pale-skinned nightmares

who all wanted a piece of me.

The nearest one licked his gray, rubbery lips. “Yum. Dessert.”

I was too stupid to live. Why didn’t I run? My feet were frozen to the spot. I did the

lamest, girliest thing possible. I swung my purse. And connected. A solid hit to the nuts.

The revenant shrieked, clutching his junk. “Bitch!”

The male vampire bucked, tossing the revenant off his left arm. Partially free, he ripped

the arm off the other revenant before the thing could even react. With balled fists, Mr. Hottie

crushed the skull of the captor holding his feet.

“Don’t stand there like a daft pony!” the vampire scolded. He snapped the neck of the

nearest revenant, then motioned. “Get out of my way!”

“What? Without my help, you’d still be trapped against a wall!” I ducked and stepped

aside, narrowly avoiding the gray-lipped revenant who had thought I was dessert.

“The rubbish bin would be more help than you!” Mr. English silenced two more

revenants with brutal, neck-twisting efficiency.

“Oh really?” What a prick.

The revenant recovered from the nut bash and charged me again. His fingertips knocked

off my ball cap. I kicked him in the stomach, grabbed the garbage barrel and slammed it over the

revenant’s head as he honed in on me. The plastic bin wouldn’t kill the thing, but he couldn’t see

either.

“Pathetic,” the vampire said.

Mr. English and I watched as the last revenant bounced against a brick wall before falling

over, his legs scissoring.

“Time for this one to bugger off as well.” Mr. English yanked off the barrel and snuffed

out the revenant with a bone-shattering blow to its head.

One by one the corpses disintegrated into dusty husks. A breeze blew through the alley

and scattered the remains. Gray vaporous clouds floated around before dissipating into the air.

To a passerby, the revenants’ final passage would look like dirty car exhaust.

“Well, I’m off then. Have good evening.” He brushed dirt off his tailored trousers. “Sod

it, they scuffed my shoes. And this shirt is ruined.”

“Yeah. What a tragedy. You’re lucky. You could have been a revenant Slurpee.”

He sniffed at the suggestion. “I was never in any real danger.”

“You could have fooled me,” I retrieved my ball cap from the grimy sidewalk.

A late afternoon sunbeam penetrated the alley, illuminating the vampire’s blue-green

eyes and highlighting the fine bone structure of his face. I tried not to gawk.

I gathered my tangled hair and mashed it under the hat. “Looks to me like they had you

pinned against the ropes.” Did I mention he was gorgeous? Like a cover model. An underwear

cover model. I cleared my throat. He was a total stranger, and while I bet he looked divine in

only underwear, I needed to stop ogling him.

When he stared at me and didn’t reply, I lamely added, “You know? Down for the

count.”

“I understood the reference, luv,” he said in his damn fine accent.

A man-shaped shadow shifted from across the street, forming a dark blot in the alley’s

entrance. We weren’t alone.

 

Dead Girls Don’t Cry
The Undead Space Initiative
Book 1
Casey Wyatt
Genre: Urban Fantasy/Paranormal Romance
Date of Publication: August 18, 2016
ISBN-13: 978-1534902718
ISBN-10: 1534902716  
ISBN13: 2940153402147
ASIN: B01HUFDDT2
Number of pages: 410
Word Count: 83,000
Cover Artist: Kim Killion, Inc.
Book Description:
Cherry Cordial, vampire stripper extraordinaire, spectacularly messes up her life with a single act of kindness. How could she have known when she rescued gorgeous rogue Ian McDevitt that she would be implicated in the vampire queen’s murder?
Soon, she faces the wrath of the entire vampire community. To escape retribution, she joins a settlement program to colonize Mars. Her choices are grim: hurtle through space to the red planet to face the unknown and possible death, or stay on Earth and face certain annihilation.
To make things even more complicated, a certain gorgeous rogue seems to be shadowing her every move…
Amazon     Kobo     iTunes      BN
 
About the Author:
Casey Wyatt grew up in a mid-size Connecticut town where nothing exciting ever happened. To stem the boredom, she spent plenty of time reading fantasy and sci-fi novels and imagining her own adventures in her head. Not much has changed since she’s grown up, only now she shares those made up stories with her readers and earns a coin or two.  
Twitter: @CaseyWyatt1
Instagram: caseywyattbooks

 

Cover Reveal Immortal Billionaire

 

IM

Immortal Billionaire

Jane Godman
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Harlequin Nocturne
Date of Publication: November 1, 2016
ASIN: B01EEZKX3K
Number of pages: 304
Word Count: 80 000
Cover Artist: Harlequin
Book Description:
Dark secrets and unquenchable desire collide in this captivating paranormal thriller…
Connie Lacey lives a nomadic existence. Alone. Safe. She can’t risk being found by the stalker who haunts her waking nightmares. Until an invitation from billionaire Sylvester de León—to spend thirty days with him on his private island, Corazón—proves impossibly tempting. But one look at the gorgeous host’s deep blue eyes, and Connie knows there is nothing safe about this paradise and the aristocratic man who calls it home.
The island is cursed…as is Sylvester himself. Yet something in him calls to Connie, ignites a desire that’s filled with raw, timeless need. But Corazón has many secrets, each more dangerous than the last. And in a place where everlasting love, the past and fate intersect, even death is only a beginning…
Available for Pre-Order
Harlequin     Amazon     BN    Kobo     Google Play
 
About the Author:
Jane Godman writes in a variety of genre. Many of her stories are heavily tinged with the supernatural and elements of horror, with haunted characters tormented by dark secrets.
Jane writes paranormal romance for Harlequin Nocturne. Her Otherworld Series is set in a mystical land inhabited by many races, including faeries, vampires, lycanthropes, phantoms and gods. Unfortunately, the constant battles between these warring dynasties threaten to spill over into the mortal realm.
Jane’s series for Harlequin Romantic Suspense, Sons of Stillwater, will be coming soon. 
Jane also writes steamy historical romance for Samhain Publishing and her Georgian Rebel Series features compelling heroes who fight hard for the cause they believe in and harder for the women they love.
In 2017, Jane has a new paranormal romance series coming from SMP Swerve.
Watch out for her hot Arctic werewolves!
Jane lives in Cheshire, England, is married to a lovely man and is mum to two grown up children.
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