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Cover Reveal: Deceiving D’Vaire by Jessamyn Kingley

Deceiving D’Vaire | Jessamyn Kingley

D’Vaire #30

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Release Date: July 7th, 2022

Cover Artist: LJ Anderson of Mayhem Cover Creations

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length: 92,990 words

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Blurb

Deception is new to Greyson and Morgen, but they’ll soon learn it has surrounded them all along.

Greyson Variusdraconis is a newly shifted dragon searching for purpose. Growing up in the Consilium Veneficus, his tutors taught him not to trust Fate. Raised by his elder brother who serves their king directly, Greyson still lives under his sibling’s roof. King Varius recently signed a treaty, so Greyson’s job is guarding wizards. Greyson finds it boring, and he worries his brother will never accept his desire to avoid a political arranged marriage.

As a child, Morgen Bassett struggled to find his footing. Two centuries later, the wizard works in a tiny library, lacks family, and has a rented room barely large enough for its furniture. Although Morgen’s early education included mentions of matebonds, the split between the Council of Sorcery and Shifters and the Consilium changed everything. With no promise of his other half or anything else, Morgen is doing little more than surviving.

On an otherwise normal trip to the supermarket, Greyson and Morgen meet, and neither man is prepared for the force of their connection. Not long after the sparks fly between them, Greyson accepts a mission to infiltrate the Draconis High Court of D’Vaire. The pair will have to find a way to stay together.

Should they be successful in gaining entry, they’ll also need to learn how to unearth all the D’Vaire secrets. However, Greyson and Morgen will soon find that nothing about their lives is what it seems.

This is not a standalone.

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Excerpt

Morgen was poking through his options, looking for the smallest cuts of meat, when he suddenly got an erection.

It was senseless, and Morgen was so hard, his mouth fell open in surprise. Before he could register any further response, the scent of Earl Grey tea filled his senses. Out of every type of tea he’d tasted, nothing pleased him more than Earl Grey. 

The package in his hand slipped out of his grasp, but Morgen never heard it plop onto a pile of wrapped meats. His gaze swept down the aisle, and Morgen didn’t have to wonder for long what he was searching for. The most handsome man he’d ever seen stalked toward Morgen with a smile gracing his overtly masculine features. 

Morgen’s brain screamed that the man was a shifter of some sort as he noted his impressive height and broad shoulders. His raven hair was messy but artistically cut and hung past the tops of his ears in the front and nearly to his collar in the back. High cheekbones drew Morgen’s attention to his scaly grey gaze, which told him the stranger was a dragon. 

For a moment, there was a flash of iridescence in his irises, but Morgen though that might’ve been a figment of his imagination thanks to the lack of blood flow to his brain. While he stared like a ninny, he had forgotten to breathe, and he forced oxygen into his lungs as the man came to a standstill a few feet from him. Morgen had ignored Fate for centuries, but she apparently hadn’t disregarded him. 

The Consilium taught their people that matebonds were silly and useless. However, as Morgen stared up at his other half, he knew that was bullshit. Sizzling through his veins was an undeniable connection, and Morgen wanted to embrace it fully.

“Hi, I’m Grey.”

“How did you know you smell like Earl Grey?” Morgen asked dumbly.

The grin on his face grew larger, and his lovely eyes twinkled with humor. “I didn’t, but that’s kind of incredible. My name is Greyson, though most call me Grey.”

“Oh.”

“Are you going to give me your name?”

“Bloody hell,” Morgen muttered. “Yes, of course. I’m Morgen.”

“I thought wizards were all colors on the rainbow, but your eyes are brown. Are you a type of dark wizard like the High Arcanist in the Council?”

Although Greyson appeared friendly rather than condescending, Morgen had dealt with too much nonsense about his lack of color in his life. 

“No,” Morgen stated coldly. “I’m a colorless wizard, and I no longer practice magic.”

The smile fell from Greyson’s perfect lips. “Apologies if I’ve offended you.”

“It’s a question I’m asked often, but no offense was taken.”

“Believe it or not, I understand a bit. I’ve shifted into a dragon, which makes some uncomfortable,” Greyson confided.

“Your eyes are grey. I know little about dragons, but I’d heard that grey and brown were the most common colors.”

“And so they are,” Greyson remarked. “But I’ve a strange belly that’s an iridescent whitish color. If the sunlight hits it, you can see a rainbow, though it’s paler than the ones you see in the sky. Perhaps Fate was trying to tell me I have a wizard mate.”

“I’ve always been fond of rainbows.”

Greyson reached out and, to Morgen’s shock, pushed aside the blond hair hanging over his eyebrows. 

“I thought when I first glanced at you that you had brown eyes. Now I see it’s not so simple. You have several shades of brown that radiate from your irises. They’re beautiful. It’s much like your hair, which is a lovely mix of browns and blonds.”

“Thanks. Everything about you is beautiful,” Morgen murmured as he tried to extract some level of intelligent thought from his flummoxed brain. 

Meeting his mate in a supermarket hadn’t been on his agenda, and he’d never given thought to having one at all. If he had, Morgen wouldn’t have pictured someone so handsome and pleased to see him. It shamed him that he’d given up on Fate, and Morgen dared not make that mistake again.

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About the Author

Jessamyn Kingley lives in Nevada where she begs the men in her head to tell her their amazing stories which she dutifully writes it all down in what has become a small mountain of notebooks. She falls in love with each couple and swears whatever book she wrote last is her absolute favorite.

Jessamyn is married and working toward remembering to start the dishwasher without being distracted by the scent of the magical detergent. For personal enjoyment, she aids in cat rescue while slashing and gashing her way through mobs in various MMORPGs. Caffeine is her very best friend and is only cast aside briefly for the sin better known as BBQ potato chips.

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Blog Tour: Rarely Pure And Never Simple by Angel Martinez

Rarely Pure And Never Simple | Angel Martinez

Variant Configurations #1

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Release Date: June 28th, 2022

Publisher: Mischief Corner Books

Cover Artist: Natasha Snow

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length: 67,000 words

Buy Links

Amazon US | Amazon UKB&N | Kobo | Apple

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Blurb

Variant children are vanishing at an alarming rate. It will take a uniquely mismatched pair of trackers to untangle a web of conspiracy and misdirection to find them.

In his isolated cabin, variant Damien Hazelwood avoids human contact as much as possible to prevent attacks of blind berserker panic. But his rare talent as a locator makes him the go-to contractor for tricky missing person’s cases and when agents bring him a troubling contract involving missing variant children, he finds it impossible to refuse.

Licensed tracker Blaze Emerson can’t help being irritated when he’s expected to follow the strange, twitchy locator’s lead on his latest case. He works alone, he’s damn good, and as a variant sparker, he has both the fire and the firepower to take on anything out there. Though he has to admit there’s something intriguing about a man who can find people with his brain.

With vastly different temperaments and backgrounds, Damien and Blaze need to negotiate quickly how to work together if they’re going to crack this case. Add in the sudden appearance of Blaze’s outlaw ex, the perils of tracking in the wilds, and a maddening lack of discernible motive or method, and they soon find themselves in as much danger as the kids they’re trying to rescue.

Variant Configurations takes place in a future Earth where humanity is reclaiming its spot in a gradually healing world. This book contains mentions of past abuse, action-adventure style mayhem, and the beginning sparks of a slow burn, series-spanning relationship.

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Excerpt

The ice around the weed bed glowed blue as first morning rays stretched tentative fingers across the lake. Even the sun was smart enough not to rush out of bed on a cold-as-a-penguin’s-pecker Vermont morning. Damien, however, apparently suffered from some intellectual deficiency since he was out on the lake already with his ice chisel, chipping away at a likely spot for a fishing hole.

His breath ghosted in front of him, every gulp of air biting into his lungs. It wasn’t that he liked the cold or enjoyed the self-sufficient, mountain-man lifestyle. He hated it. His hands always hurt. He was always hungry. It took him forever to warm his lonely bed at night no matter how many pairs of socks he put on, the frame rattling with his shaking for an hour or more.

Chip-chip-chip. The ice chisel on six-inch lake ice echoed back to him off his cabin in a strange, one-sided conversation.

The move wasn’t for his health or even part of a dream of a better life. He had left Raleigh to escape. Yes, he could have taken it a step farther and vanished. Away from the coasts, out in the abandoned wilds to the west, he might have found somewhere to hole up. Much of the land surrounding the Mississippi was still poisoned, but farther out toward Kansas, the remains of chemical skirmishes diminished.

The life of a wilding was dangerous for a lone person, though, and the constant need to be on high alert against scavengers who roamed the wastelands would have worn him down to nothing within a few months. Here, he was close enough to civilization for relative safety, far enough away for some peace. He’d given a promise for a promise, after all—his promise to Dr. Parma that he would still take the jobs he was uniquely suited to and her promise that he would be a last resort.

Mostly, the arrangement worked.

Up here, they couldn’t hound him so easily with every minute need. Up here, anyone seeking him out had to go to considerable trouble to reach him. They knew where he was, of course. The inconvenient locale enforced the mandate that they think long and hard before paying a call, and now they only showed up when they had exhausted other options.

So he pretended not to hear the crunch of the snow-crawler’s treads as it trundled up the snow-crusted hill accompanied by the whisper-hum of its solar battery engine. Then he deluded himself a few more minutes with the fantasy of late-season sport fishermen. The voices, when they reached him, shattered his careful illusion.

Chip-chip-chip. If I ignore them this time, will they give up and go away? Probably not. Please go away.

“That’s him? He’s kinda puny,” an unfamiliar voice rasped.

They hadn’t sent Cummings? What idiot was in charge now? They’d sent some stranger as the messenger, someone who didn’t understand him?

“Variants come in all the usual shapes and sizes, Wirth.”

There was Cummings. Thank God for small favors.

“But Sledge—”

“Is just one guy,” Cummings snapped, obviously losing patience with what had to be a rookie.

Footsteps crunched through the snow toward him. Damien tried to block them out, but his muscles tensed. The terrible sensation of having someone walking up behind him crawled up his back on millipede legs.

Chip-chip-chip.

“Wirth, hold up! You don’t want—”

Something touched Damien’s elbow. The millipede crawling up his spine leaped into his brain and exploded in a thousand spiny pieces. He whirled, snarling, and swept the ice chisel at whatever had put a hand on him without permission.

“Holy fuck!” A dark-haired man leaped back from the makeshift halberd. He fell on his ass and scrabbled backward on the ice, his eyes cow-patty huge in shock.

“I tried to warn you,” Cummings said calmly from the bank. A squared-off man with salt-and-pepper hair, he was the perfect bland-faced federal agent. He stood with his hands in his trench-coat pockets, stance relaxed and nonthreatening. There was a reason they usually sent him alone instead of sending a team or someone from the Guild, as they’d done once or twice. Cummings didn’t judge. Cummings understood Damien’s boundaries. “Maybe you’ll learn to listen now.”

“He tried to fucking kill me!” The intrusive man, presumably Wirth, still scrambled backward as he failed to get his feet under him.

“No. You invaded his space without warning. You don’t do that. I might kill you if you don’t stop acting like a jackass,” Cummings grated out, shaking his head. Then he gave a nod to Damien and said more evenly, “Hazelwood. Good to see you.”

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About the Author

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Angel Martinez is the pen name of a writer of several genres who writes both kinds of queer fiction – Science Fiction and Fantasy. (What? There are others?)

Currently living part time in the hectic sprawl of northern Delaware, (and full time inside the author’s head) Angel has one husband, one son, at least one cat at any given time, a changing variety of other furred and scaled companions, a love of all things beautiful and a terrible addiction to the consumption of both knowledge and chocolate.

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Release Blitz: The Fractured Fallen by Jessamyn Kingley

The Fractured Fallen | Jessamyn Kingley

D’Vaire #2

BANNER

Release Date: May 19th, 2022

Cover Artist: LJ Anderson, Mayhem Cover Creations

Heat Rating: 3 flames

Length: 89,083 words

Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |   Amazon UK

Goodreads Series Link

The Fractured Fallen

Blurb

For any chance at love, they must first be willing to trust.

A proud fallen knight, Gentry Patterson likes to take people under his wing. Gifted with an easygoing nature, he makes friends effortlessly and, thanks to his love of cooking, often invites his inner circle over for meals. Gentry’s favorite week of the year is the annual retreat for his race, where he’s reunited with the many friends and colleagues he’s met through the years. The only thing that would enrich his existence is his mate, but he has yet to meet him.

Newly resurrected Tobias Kinsler wants to put his training behind him and make his superiors proud. However, Tobias is struggling. He keeps it to himself because he lacks people he’s willing to trust. With a mere few months of life under his belt, Tobias attends the fallen knights’ annual retreat and discovers his other half.

The two men have a sizzling connection from the start and waste no time binding their souls. Unfortunately, they will soon learn that secrets lurk beneath their growing friendship, and those secrets fracture the tenuous bond between them. As they chart an uncertain future, Gentry and Tobias must decide if they’re still willing to honor Fate.

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Excerpt

Gentry relished the last bite of his dessert and grinned at Toby. “Did you want to dance?” 

The room had filled with soft music, which was perfect to sway to. Many couples were already near the stage, moving to the melody.

“I don’t know how.”

“I can teach you. We don’t have to do anything crazy,” Gentry assured him. 

Toby’s nerves and his lack of guile when it came to admitting everything he had no clue how to do endeared the fallen knight to Gentry. 

“Slow dancing isn’t too difficult,” Gentry said.

“This will sound crazy, but I’m not the best at physical stuff.”

“Oh, come on, only Juris Knights suck at physical stuff,” Gentry said with a laugh.

Toby leaned toward Gentry so no one would overhear him. “The Juris Knight at our table doesn’t seem to agree.”

“He’s frowning, but it’s true. I’m a fallen knight, I can’t lie.”

“I can’t tell if you’re lying.”

“Yeah, I think Fate did that on purpose. It’s so I can lie to you if you have on a truly horrible outfit. I’ll assure you it’s wonderful.”

“Please tell me if I’m wearing something horrible.”

“If you insist,” Gentry said. “You sure you don’t want to dance?”

“I’ll try, but I make no promises that we won’t embarrass ourselves and the entire Order of the Fallen Knights.”

“Not being perfect at something doesn’t mean we’re letting down our entire race,” Gentry said as he stood. Once again, Gentry held out a hand to Toby, who didn’t hesitate to take it after he rose. Gentry weaved between the tables with Toby in tow until he reached the cleared area that served as the dance floor. 

“Okay, what do I do?” Toby asked when they stopped.

Gentry turned to face Toby and put an arm around him. It brought them closer, and Gentry sternly warned his dick to behave. Without the need to be told, Toby mirrored his actions. Since they hadn’t let go of each other, Gentry raised his other arm so they were in the proper position to dance. 

“Just move your feet from side to side. We don’t have to do anything fancy. Follow my lead.”

“I can do that.”

Within a minute or two they synced their footsteps and were moving slowly to the lovely music piping through the speakers. 

“I told you it was easy,” Gentry said.

“I like being close to you.”

“We’re killing this mate thing so far.”

“You’re the first person who doesn’t make me nervous to be around them,” Toby confided. 

There was such earnestness in his pretty eyes that Gentry unconsciously came to a stop. 

“Are you okay?” Toby asked.

“I’d like to kiss you.”

Without a word, Toby raised up onto his toes, and Gentry wasn’t stupid enough to deny the invitation. Their lips met with exquisite tenderness. It was a moment frozen in time, and Gentry vowed to remember it for eternity. When Toby tilted his head, Gentry didn’t bother to resist darting his tongue out to deepen their caress. 

Toby moaned softly as they explored each other. While couples milled around them, Gentry lost all awareness of the outside world. He was steeped in Toby. They broke apart slowly, and Gentry stared into Toby’s stunned gaze. 

“I’m glad I waited for you to be my first kiss,” Toby said.

Gentry smiled at him. “I’m glad you did too.”

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About the Author

Jessamyn Kingley lives in Nevada where she begs the men in her head to tell her their amazing stories which she dutifully writes it all down in what has become a small mountain of notebooks. She falls in love with each couple and swears whatever book she wrote last is her absolute favorite.

Jessamyn is married and working toward remembering to start the dishwasher without being distracted by the scent of the magical detergent. For personal enjoyment, she aids in cat rescue while slashing and gashing her way through mobs in various MMORPGs. Caffeine is her very best friend and is only cast aside briefly for the sin better known as BBQ potato chips.

Social Media

Facebook | Twitter | Pinterest Jessamyn’s Ruffian’s

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