Heart of the Storm by Valerie Storm

Heart of the Storm
Demon Storm
Book Four
Valerie Storm

Genre: YA Fantasy
Publisher: Shadow Spark Publishing
Date of Publication: 9/13/23
ISBN: ISBN: 978-1-956883-14-5
Number of pages:410
Word Count:101219
Cover Artist: @Ginkahederling

A fresh start. An old home, new again.  And a new evil to match.

Crimson eyes and dark wings. Together, they’ll be terrible. Can she break free?

Their light is broken. When a new darkness rises, will they overcome it?

Book Description:

More than night terrors keep Kari awake at night. Ari languishes beside her, broken by the horrors Raven bestowed upon him.

She hopes he heals, and soon.

When a familiar presence and an unexplainable human with magic happen upon their doorstep, Kari and Ari make a decision: leave Raziac Village in search of answers and a new home.

But the heart eater waits for them.


Kari pushed away her steak, half-eaten. “Can this place be real?”

            Rathik looked up from his turkey. “Sometimes I can’t believe it myself, and I headed the revolution.”

Ari leaned over his plate, eyes widening. “You did? How?”

“From within the town itself. I was on the guard. I hid myself, too.” Rathik looked at Kari. “My commanding officer believed I had a skin disease.”

A sudden memory pricked her attention. The day she’d run into a guard in Snow Shade—after stealing the magic book for Kiki—she’d glimpsed scales on that man’s face and forgotten all about it.

Guine snorted. “Nice.”

            Rathik inclined his head. “My position enabled me to sneak demons in. I was just trying to help sickly ones at first. Eventually my name—different than the one I used as a guard—became infamous.” He laughed, shaking his head, and took a sip of ale.

            “I…I remember your name. Rathik.” Kari wracked her brain, remembering the first bolt of lightning she had called down; it had been glorious, though it also represented the first time she had felt the burning fire of the Catalyst. She’d been attacked by a demon yelling about a Rathik.

            Rathik grimaced. “I became a rallying point for many demons in the north, and it wasn’t long until the Lord Isaac was looking for me.”

            Kari, nodded, recalling that, too.

“Lord Isaac became frantic, especially when a man and his wife were found dead in their homes. He ordered searches, and it wasn’t long before my friends were found out. One died, trying to protect the others.”

Kari’s throat tightened. Ari shifted so she could grab his arm. Guine glanced at them.

“It was me,” she muttered in a hoarse whisper.

“What?” Rathik asked.

“It was my fault your friend died. I…I was the one who killed those two humans.”

She’d had no choice, she’d told herself, yet that hadn’t been true. How many times had Kiki tried to convince her they could run away without leaving any bodies behind? And Kari had refused, sure that killing Anne and Joseph was the only true way to honor her parents.

If she’d listened, Kiki may have lived, and Rathik’s friend wouldn’t have died.

Rathik leaned over the table. “No. Trust me, Kari. It was only a matter of time before Lord Isaac snapped. Even Dorn, from Isaac’s council, said he was well on his way to madness without anyone’s help.”

“He’s right,” Ari said, rubbing her. “Even we’d heard some stories in Raziac. You aren’t to blame for his actions.”

Kari caught Guine’s eye, his expression indiscernible, then frowned at her plate.

            Rathik nodded. “His own people saw it. Some of them helped us, guiding our peaceful speeches to fellow humans, and reconciling began. Now we have this.”

            He waved his hand, gesturing at the room.

            “Even though I’d heard of the revolution, I can hardly believe my eyes,” Ari said. “This place is unimaginable.”



About the Author:

Valerie Storm was raised in Tucson, Arizona. Growing up, she fell in love with everything fantasy. When she wasn’t playing video games, she was writing. By age ten, she began to write her own stories as a way to escape reality. When these stories became a full-length series, she considered the path to sharing with other children & children at heart looking for a place to call home.

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Bittersweet Injuries by Kateri Stanley

Bittersweet Injuries 
The Dove and Snake Series 
Book One
Kateri Stanley 

Genre: Supernatural Thriller
Date of Publication: 28/09/2023
ISBN: 979-8851416583
Number of pages: 302
Word Count: 81K
Cover Artist: Kateri Stanley and Daniel Olah 

Tagline: Some secrets can last for centuries

Book Description: 

Marcus Weaving is a retired psychology lecturer and therapist. Not a man to sit around, he volunteers at his local university. Years of clinical practice are put to the test when he receives a mischievous text from somebody called L.

Intrigued and unnerved, Marcus goes to the address provided and is welcomed by a beautiful blonde woman named Lily. Their story goes way back to his tumultuous youth when he had to flee from his abusive mother and other demons skulking around.

Timing for a romantic reunion could not be any worse. Marcus is about to become a grandfather and he has ongoing issues with his estranged, drug addicted son.

Why has Lily shown up after all of this time? And, why hasn’t she aged a day?

Excerpt Prologue

The rambler puffed and panted her way up the hill. What had started off as a pleasant morning in the beautiful rustic countryside had turned into a torrential disaster of an afternoon. She’d been strolling in a loose sweater with a fleece wrapped around her waist and now, she was thankful she’d packed the waterproofs before leaving the house.
She dug her heels into the mud, pushing on two walking poles, dragging her body towards the top. Rainwater dripped off the hood of her jacket. After several minutes of intense core strength, she managed to make it to the top of the hill and was relieved when she saw the warm lights of a nearby pub. She could take shelter and fill her stomach with cider, gravy and mashed potato.  
She was not alone on the hill. Somebody else was there, mad enough to attempt to climb the rest of the mountain.

“Hey!” the rambler shouted. “I wouldn’t go up there if I were you, mate. The rain’s too heavy. You’d be better off waiting!”

The other rambler donned in the same hiking gear turned to face her. He had a druid beard which hid middle eastern features and hair so long that it spilled out of his hood. He raised his hand signifying a gesture not to be worried. Then he smiled, giving the rambler the thumbs up and continued to trudge upwards. He wasn’t wearing any walking boots. How strange. His bare feet would get cut to shreds or he’d catch some sort of infection in this weather.

The rambler glanced at the pub in a panic. She didn’t want to be responsible if the body of a man was found buried somewhere on the mountain, even though she’d tried to warn him. She turned back, the rain was hailing down. She could barely see the crown of the mountain. The strange thing was, the other rambler had vanished.

The coffee shop on the high street was one of his favourite places to unwind after a hard day’s work. Jove acquired the booth by the front window, delicately sipping his large skinny latte. He enjoyed watching people pass by; it was humanity at its best. They were lost in their own little worlds, unaware of who was observing.

He peered at his watch, his former employee was late, whereas he on the other hand… was on time. After half an hour, he sensed a presence enter the coffee shop, then a soft manicured hand lightly brushed his shoulder.

“I think you should invest in a watch,” said Jove.

“You know I don’t bother with that old fashioned garbage,” the voice replied, belonging to the woman standing before him.

Jove sighed. “I’d appreciate it if you could inform me that you’re going to be late. It’s called common courtesy. I have other places to be. You know this.”

The woman plonked her handbag on the opposing seat, disturbing the gentleman reading his newspaper in the next booth. She didn’t notice his annoyed expression, she didn’t care.

“Good place to sit,” she said. “You’ve got a keen eye. Watch my bag.”

She grabbed her purse and marched to the bar. Her sharp high heeled boots clicked and clacked on the shiny floor. Her provocative walk echoed dominance and confidence.

“Splashing out I see,” Jove commented when she returned with a large caramel macchiato and a plate of fruit toast.

“It’s a special occasion,” she replied merrily, sitting down. “Our meet-ups are important.

Oh, and by the way, it’s Lucille when I’m in this skin. Respect my pronouns haha.”

“Fair enough,” Jove replied. “How have you been?”  

She sucked the cream ravenously from her fingers. “Profits dropped slightly this month. I’m working on a strategy to increase the market.”  

“And what is that?” he asked.

Lucille smirked. “You know I don’t part with my ideas.”

“Of course, I was just venturing.”

She wiped her hands with the napkin and began to lather the butter onto the fruit toast with a plastic knife. “You know, I truly think the modern world was made for me. The secrets, the scandals, the back stabbings. Souls willing to part with their shares for a couple of thousand followers, faking chronic illnesses for attention. Social media is a wonderful thing. It’s an all-you-can-eat-buffet of human depravity. I love it.”

Jove did not need the loaded information. He already knew about it, and it troubled him.

“How come you chose Starbucks?” Lucille bit into the toast, ripping it with her teeth, the way a predator tore into its prey. “I thought you were a Costa Coffee guy.”

“I felt like a change.”

“I agree,” Lucille nodded. “See that guy outside?”

Jove watched out of the window, noticing a tall man in a long grey overcoat with receding brown hair purchasing a Big Issue magazine.

“He sold me a share because his wife left him for his best friend. Oh, and that woman, and that fat bloke there. Infidelity is a real mood killer for passion.”

Jove caught sight of each person Lucille indicated. The crowds moved similar to a fast-pacing stream. Before he could hone in on her clients, they melted into the background of the city. A soul wafted past and he pointed at the window pane. “That girl broke her leg saving her brother from a house fire.”

Lucille rolled her eyes at his observation. “Whoop de doo. Good people, so boring. Anyway, how’s everything down your way, or should I say up your way?”

“Everything’s fine.”

“Does anyone ask after me?”

“Your name pops up, now and then. Not in the most civil terms, I might add.”

“Doesn’t surprise me. I’m glad I gave in my notice, no offence.”

Jove frowned. “From my recollection Lucille, you were… cast out.”

Her gaze hardened. “I walked, actually.”

“I’m not here to argue. But, if you cleansed your heart, I’d let you back in with open arms.”

“That’s sweet, but I love being my own boss.” She wiped her mouth with the napkin, careful enough so she wouldn’t smear her lipstick. “I think all of you have your wires crossed. My job isn’t much different to yours. It’s not… bad. It’s not evil either. I collect and punish the wicked and sinful. Isn’t that a good thing?”



About the Author: 

Kateri Stanley is a dark fiction author. Her books include bestselling horror debut, FORGIVE ME and fantasy thriller, FROM THE DEEP. She lives with her partner and her cat in the Midlands, UK. 


War of the Sea – Kickstarter by Dana Claire

War of the Sea – Kickstarter
Olympian Wars
Book One
Dana Claire

Genre: Fantasy Romance
Publisher: Chamberlain Publishing House
ISBN: 9798987263563
Number of pages: 270
Word Count: 80,000
Cover Artist: Brush Media Group

Tagline: A bargain. A brigand. A battle for the sea.

Book Description:

His powers could save the ocean. Her vendetta could sink a kingdom.

Captain Elouise Farrington, the youngest pirate on the Caviar Sea, seeks revenge on her father’s killer. But when her oddly hypnotic foe proposes a pact to kill the Siren Queen and end the War of the Sea’s bloodshed, she must make a choice. Put aside her long-brewing retribution or act the underhanded pirate and use the alliance to claim the life of the man who destroyed her family?

Captain Rylander Bordeaux, the revered royal navy captain of the Isle of Cava, has one mission—kill the Siren Queen and end the War of the Sea. The ocean is the only place Rylander calls home, but to bring peace to his beloved waves, he must defeat his past so he can reshape the future. His greatest hope is Captain Elouise, who calls to him like no siren song ever has. Too bad she’s almost as bloodthirsty as the fanged heart-eaters themselves. She promises to lend her all-female crew to his war on the sirens, but can he trust a brigand—especially one who wants him dead—to uphold her end of the bargain? Or will she be his undoing?




Our mouths met once again, hungry and desperate, as I lifted her into my arms. Her chemise rose and bunched in between us. My palms cupped her exposed thighs, urging them to encircle my waist. I walked us backward to the bed, never breaking our kiss, and slowly lowered her down, careful to bear my weight against my forearm. I savored the softness of her lips, the warmth of her breath mingling with mine, as her fingers wove into my hair. Pleasure and pain radiated through my scalp as she pulled the ends with her iron grip, her moans urging me on. With my free hand, I explored her, tracing the lines of her neck, the softness of her breasts. Her body arched in response, a silent plea for more.

I continued my journey, my hand tracing the curve of her hip, slipping beneath her knee, and wrapping her leg around me once more. The connection between us grew stronger, an unspoken understanding that we were meant to be entwined, a meeting of souls. And then, with a surge of anticipation, I pressed into her, feeling her heat and the electric pulse of our bodies against one another.

She pulled back, her eyes locking onto mine, reflecting a hunger and longing that mirrored my own. A mischievous smile played upon her lips as her fingers toyed with the button on my trousers. But before she undid it, I heard a noise. Footsteps.

“It’s probably a good idea to tell you both I’m in the room.” Smitter’s voice sounded somewhere behind me, way too close to the bed, to us.

I jumped backward, lost my balance, and stumbled to the floor. My rear landed hard. Lou swathed herself in a wad of sheets.

“I had hoped you’d come up for air, but there’s really no good way to interrupt.” He waved in between us.

“I’m going to kill you,” I growled from the floor. Out of all the times my uncle had popped in and out of a room, this had to be the most invasive and humiliating.

“Why would you …? I can’t— Don’t you ever do that again,” Lou shouted, horrified. Her hands balled around the sheets. Flushed like a sunburned noble, she volleyed her gaze between me, half clothed on the floor, and Smitter. Her knotted hair stuck up on top of her head.

“Yes, I realize it’s not great timing, but the two of you need your rest. We drop anchor tomorrow on the perimeter of Anthemusa. The men have already been moved to the soundproof rooms. And we need to strategize how you’ll slay the Siren Queen, now that our first plan is no longer viable.” Smitter’s concerned brown eyes found mine. “Also, your aunt said this isn’t the right time for”—he swirled a finger in our general direction—“this.”

Lou’s brows contorted. “What? Who is your aunt?” She gaped at me.

I waved Lou off. Aunt Artemis, the goddess of childbirth, would know when Lou should abstain, but I wasn’t about to have that conversation. I bent my knees, resting my elbows on my thighs, and rubbed my temples. My family had truly outdone themselves. Not a single boundary nor a clue as to how their incessant involvement could be a nuisance.

About the Author:

DANA CLAIRE is an award-winning author whose stories explore identity, fate, and destiny in the crossroads of romance and adventure. 

Her love of romantic tension and the supernatural effortlessly translates into spine-tingling action and unforgettable characters. 

She lives in Los Angeles, CA with her adoring husband living her dreams: writing books, telling stories, and changing the world, one reader at a time. 

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