Tag Archives: suicide

Blog Tour: Triumph’s Ashes by Adam Gaffen

Triumph’s Ashes | Adam Gaffen

The Cassidy Chronicles Vol #5

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Release Date: August 15th, 2021

Cover Artist: Emily’s World of Design

Word Count: 143,000

Buy Links:

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Blurb

Viva la revolucion!

The Primus, Vasilia Newling, is facing her worst nightmares:

  • A revolution on Luna.
  • Titan and the Asteroids abandoning the Solarian Union.
  • Defections from within her own government.

All because of those damned Cassidys!

But she’s still as ruthless as ever.

And if Aiyana and Kendra thought she was playing dirty before? They’re going to see how filthy she really can get.

There isn’t room for both the Terran Federation and the Union.

This time, one is going down.

For good.

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Excerpt

Habitat Njord

“Commander? Aren’t you on your honeymoon?”

Commander Daniela Garcia-Kay stopped filling her coffee cup and to stare at the questioner.

“Ma’am,” she belatedly appended.

“Better, Rat,” Garcia-Kay said, finishing the pour. “And for your information, yes, I am, but I need to stay sharp.”

She added, in a much more conversational tone, “Boomer’s been after me as well. He says that he’s still trying to integrate with his new body and I should be flying him, so…”

Rat, Ensign (JG) Judith Bastin, grinned. The Epsilon-class AI’s installed in the Direwolf fighters could be nearly human in their personalities, if encouraged by their human counterparts. A good number of the pilots of Nymeria Squadron did so, reaping the benefits of the enhanced partnership, taking after the lead of their commander.

Daniela, as the first Direwolf pilot, had led the way. She’d investigated the interests the Admiral had in 20th/21st century ‘television’ and ‘movies’, eventually arriving at ‘Boomer’ as a good name for her AI. As a result, his personality tended to be cool, calculating, and confident, with a special knack for engineering his way around problems. His level-headedness complemented Daniela’s more aggressive flying style.

“I heard they salvaged your chair,” Rat said.

“They did,” agreed Daniela. “That was about all, though.”

Her face clouded briefly at the memory. Her prior Direwolf had been ruined by a mid-space collision with another fighter during an exercise in which the other pilot had lost her life. It was the first non-action casualty the squadron had faced and it still stung.

Rat picked up on her discomfort and tried to change the subject. “How’s Boomer doing? Does he like the new ship?”

“He appreciates the new capabilities, but keeps sending me messages about how things just aren’t quite ‘right’ with it. Which is why I’m here at oh six hundred instead of in bed with my husband,” she finished, raising her mug.

“Aye, ma’am,” said Rat, raising her half-empty mug in mock salute. “Do you need a wing? I’m scheduled for the mid-watch CAP, but I have a couple hours.”

“Thanks, Rat, I’m covered. Locksmith is going out with me.”

Rat nodded. Locksmith was the XO of the second Direwolf squadron under Lt. Commander Ashlyn Bontrager. Red Squadron was officially assigned to the TFS Endeavour, but only half the fighters could fit aboard at any one time for away missions if there would be a couple of the older Wolves attached for the duration. The other half remained at Njord and did drills until the Endeavour returned.

“Catch you later, Double Dip,” Rat said and strolled out.

She had to smile. For all that Starfleet was a military organization, the formality and rigidity which plagued longer-established militaries simply didn’t exist. Given the preferences of the Admiral, it probably never would.

Daniela spent the next few minutes with her thoughts before Locksmith arrived.

Lieutenant Lexie Marsh, recently promoted, was nearly a mirror image of Double Dip. She was just as tall and built in a similar, athletic manner. Her hair, which she wore in a single long braid, was dyed a pale green which set off her emerald eyes and dark skin. Her most prominent feature, though, was her smile. It was said in her division that as long as Locksmith was smiling you were doing well. If it flickered, though, you were in trouble. Nobody knew what would happen if it disappeared. Yet.

Today, it was in full force.

“Morning, Danni,” Locksmith said, already carrying her own mug.

“Morning Lexie,” Daniela answered around another sip. “Ready for today?”

“As soon as I finish my cacao.”

“You and Commander Cassidy,” Daniela chuckled. “What is it about that stuff?”

“I could ask you the same,” countered Locksmith. “Coffee, yuck.”

“Just for that I’m going to dust you,” Daniela said.

“Hello? We’re both flying the same bird?”

“Nope. I have the first of the Mark II’s.”

Instantly Locksmith was all business.

“I didn’t think they were going to be in production until next year! That’s why my girlfriend told me, and she should know; she works at HLC, testing.”

“She’s not wrong. But someone has to break them in before they start rolling them out, and since I have the most hours in Direwolves of any pilot in Starfleet, well, the decision was simple. Mine’s one of the two-seaters, too, a training model.”

“Is the scuttlebutt true?”

Daniela laughed. “I hope so! We’ll find out today anyways.”

Locksmith put down her mug, sloshing the contents onto the table, and stood. “What are we waiting for?”

Daniela took a final swallow and led the way to the bay. After they’d done the mandatory walkarounds and pre-flight checks they each climbed into their cockpits.

“About time,” grumped her AI as she settled in.

“It’s my honeymoon,” she grumped right back. “I’m permitted.”

“It’s all well and good for you, you can get out of the ship just by standing up. Me, it takes major mechanical surgery.”

“Sorry, Boomer. Admiral’s orders. I tried to delay the wedding but she wouldn’t allow it.”

“Hmmph.”

She could tell he was somewhat mollified, though, as they ran through the power-up checklists. They’d developed enough of a rapport over the previous months that they could do the tasks almost on automatic while holding a conversation.

“How does she feel?” Daniela asked now.

“It’s different,” Boomer said. “The basic systems are all the same, except where they aren’t. It’s tough to explain.”

“Anything I need to be concerned about? Anything radically different?”

“No. Most of the changes they made are incremental, evolutionary. Like the aiming mechanism on the lasers.”

“We can aim?”

“A little. About two degrees, but it’s enough so we can do some pinpoint shooting at longer ranges.”

“Awesome!”

“If you ask me, though, I’m most impressed with the new reactor, if it works.”

“What do you mean, ‘if it works’?”

“It’s a new design. The old reactor was a laser-pumped design, while the new one is a z-pinch. If it works the way it should, we ought to achieve increased thrust as well as higher power for the other systems.”

“How much increased thrust?”

“Up to 650 g.”

Daniela allowed herself a low whistle. The Mark 1 already had the highest acceleration of any sublight craft in any fleet, 500 g, and a skilled pilot/AI combination could squeeze an extra 10 g or 20 g performance. 650 g, though, was unheard-of.

“What will I feel?” she asked. She knew she could tap her implant to get the information, but one of the reasons she and Boomer were such an effective team was she treated him as a partner. Currently, at max accel, she felt 6 g, which was eight times more than the Federation standard aboard vessels and habitats. Her nanobots prevented the lower gravity from weakening her bones and muscles, but she’d been in Starfleet since the beginning. Three-quarter g felt normal now, hence her concern.

“You’ll love this. Five g.”

About The Author

AUTHOR PIC - Triumph's Ashes - Adam Gaffen

I was born in Maine, didn’t live there for long before my parents figured out that it was too bloody cold and moved south, all the way to Massachusetts. Grew up there and in Connecticut, lived in Maryland and Indiana for a while before moving back to Maine. Lived there for twenty years before I, too, decided the winters were too long. Of course, where do you to get away from long winters? COLORADO! Naturally. Married to a wonderful, inspirational, supportive woman; between us we have five kids, five dogs, and five cats.

As for my writing, well, I’ve thrown a bunch out onto Amazon. There’s a couple Sherlock Holmes stories, a few horror-ish shorts, and then you get to my longer books: Refuge, a time-traveling take on vampire stories, and The Cassidy Chronicles. Triumph’s Ashes is the fifth book in the series and completes the Artemis War story arc.

Like I said, thanks for dropping in! You can find me on Allauthor.com, Twitter, Facebook, Instagram, and on my website www.cassidychronicles.com.This month, I’ll be appearing on the Meet the Author Podcast/Vidcast on November 24th, so tune in and check it out! I

t’s an hour of Cassidyverse talk and it’s at https://indiebooksource.com/podcast/ I love interacting with fans, but be warned: I often add my fans into my books!

Social Media

Website: https://cassidychronicles.com

Facebook (Personal): https://www.facebook.com/adam.gaffen

Facebook (Author Page): https://www.facebook.com/AdamGaffenAuthor

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/adamgaffen/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6587896.Adam_Gaffen

Liminal Fiction (LimFic.com): https://www.limfic.com/mbm-book-author/adam-gaffen/

Amazon: https://smile.amazon.com/Adam-Gaffen/e/B009QMIW3K

Giveaway

Adam is giving away a $100 Restaurants.com gift card with this tour:

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Release Blitz: The Reluctant Royal by Catherine Curzon & Eleanor Harkstead

The Reluctant Royal | Catherine Curzon & Eleanor Harkstead

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Release Date: January 26th, 2021

Length: 93,492 words

Buy Links:

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Blurb

As an unseen enemy draws near, a royal bodyguard must choose between duty and love.

Risking his life to save a princess is all in a day’s work for Sergeant Joe Wenlock, a Close Protection Officer detailed to protect the royal family. After months of recovery following his brush with death, Joe’s ready to return to duties. But Alejandro Fuente-Sastre, as infuriating as he is fabulous, is the last royal Joe wants to be assigned to.

Alejandro isn’t quite the sort of queen that the British royal family is used to, but when Joe learns that Her Majesty’s step-grandson is also drag bombshell Paloma Picante, it makes his job a whole lot tougher. But is there more to Alejo than sulking and sequins?

When Alejandro’s life is threatened by an unseen tormentor who progresses from internet trolling to arson and violence, Joe must keep his charge safe from harm.

Living in close quarters with the man he shouldn’t be falling for, Joe begins to discover his true self. But as Alejandro’s enemy prowls ever nearer, Joe must make the impossible choice between duty and love.

Reader advisory: This book contains instances of homophobia and homophobic language, cyberbullying and threats, harassment, terrorism, drug use and abuse, Islamophobia and suicide. There are mentions of domestic abuse, including physical, emotional and gaslighting.

Excerpt

Joe took another sip of tonic water. He wished it contained gin, because being the only sober person at the table was hardly his idea of fun, but as he watched the bottle of champagne being passed around, he knew he didn’t really want any alcohol anyway. He couldn’t go back to work the worse for wear. Not after months of sick leave. Best foot forward, as his dad would say.

And it wasn’t only his decision not to drink that made Joe an oddity at the table. These were all Wendy’s friends, out for her birthday. Solicitors, legal types, who’d spent most of the evening already talking shop. Joe looked on, his mind on other things. Would he cope on his first day back? Would they trust him to ever do a good job again?

“So, Joe, we’re taking bets on who you’re going to be coddling next week!” Wendy put her second bottle of Prosecco on the table and settled into her seat. Her leg brushed Joe’s momentarily and she shifted, putting air between them again. “Izzy thinks one of the Fergie duo. Barnaby’s bet his bonus on Wills and Kate. I think it’s going to be the queen. The top job for a top bobby!”

“I don’t know yet.” Joe shrugged. “Maybe one of the corgis?”

“I bet you do know, and you’re teasing us!” Wendy’s friend Jemima brayed. “Have you signed the Official Secrets Act?”

Joe turned the plastic stirrer through his fizzing drink, rattling the ice cubes against the glass. He didn’t pester Wendy’s friends about confidential matters, so why did they think he was fair game? “As you know, if I had, I wouldn’t be allowed to say.”

“Whoever it is,” Wendy told them, “let’s hope they don’t put my poor old hubby in hospital again! He’s getting too old to play the action hero!”

Wendy’s friends laughed, and Joe tried to look happy, but he really didn’t want to be reminded of the accident. The headlamps coming straight for him in the evening darkness—and after he’d pushed the Duchess of Albany out of the way, there had been no time for Joe to leap aside. Just that crushing pain as the car slammed into him. Joe had slumped over the bonnet and found himself eye to eye with the idiot who’d just tried to deliberately run down the Duchess.

“He’s not that old!” Verity giggled. She patted Joe’s leg and he tried not to flinch. “And still in fine form, too, Wendy, you lucky thing!”

“Lucky old me!” Wendy’s smile looked like a grimace. How would she know what form her husband was in when it had been over six months since they’d so much as kissed, let alone more? She refilled her glass and whispered to Joe, “For God’s sake, have a real drink.”

“Come on, you know I can’t,” Joe replied. “I can’t risk it. First day back and all that.”

“It’s my birthday.” Her pink lips grew thin and she drew in a deep, sharp breath, as sharp as her fresh blonde bob. Then she put her lips to his ear and hissed, “Stop showing me up, Joe, have a drink.”

“I’m drinking a stunt gin and tonic. That’s enough.” Joe held up the glass. It had the brand name of a well-known gin printed down its side. “They do tests, you know. I want to be nice and clean when they poke through my bodily fluids, thank you very much.”

“Barnaby!” Wendy subtly turned away from her husband, the centre of attention all over again. He was dismissed, just as he had been so many times over the five years of their miserable married life. “So, we’re all dying to know how your Tokyo merger’s going. It’s all everyone’s talking about. Tell us all the latest from the front line of big money!”

Joe sat his glass down on the table. The last thing he cared about was Barnaby and his bloody merger, which he’d heard snippets of for weeks as Wendy had made business calls at home. Barnaby this, Barnaby that, ‘Barnaby’s going places.’

So am I.

Joe nudged his seat back and stood to leave. Verity glanced at him, as if she was surprised he was going, but her attention turned to Wendy and Barnaby. Joe wasn’t sure where he’d go, but he needed fresh air. He wanted to be away from loud drinkers, away from Wendy’s carping. His head was pounding and as he stepped outside the pub, a car drove by close to the kerb. He instinctively jumped back, pressing himself against the wall behind him.

Calm down, Sergeant Wenlock, he told himself.

The night was cold, as cold as the pub had been hot, and Joe took a deep breath of autumn air. London tonight seemed even more surreal than ever, the streets a curious mix of the same well-dressed professionals who filled Wendy’s group and those who had embraced Halloween, escaping the real world in the form of cats and devils, vampires and aliens, some already stumbling, others only just starting out. And there in the middle of them was Joe, who would rather be anywhere else but there.

Maybe Joe should’ve thrown aside his tweed jacket and sensible open-necked shirt for a costume. He’d have made quite a good Frankenstein’s monster, maybe, though that said, when he’d first been taken to hospital and had plaster casts and bandages in places he hadn’t thought possible, he’d have been a brilliant cursed mummy.

Joe decided to go for a wander. Once he was working again, he’d have little time to call his own. He’d take his freedom when and where he could. Music blared from pubs and bars, people laughed, taxis pulled up and disgorged their passengers. And up ahead, someone was shouting.

Bloody people, can’t hold their drinks.

“Don’t you ever, ever bloody do that again! Do you hear?”

It was a man’s voice up ahead. Joe could see two figures, one in a black suit with a skeleton painted on it in white. He was wagging his finger—jabbing it—at the red-headed woman walking beside him in heels so high Joe wondered how she didn’t fall flat on her face.

“It’s so important to me, so fucking important, and all you have to do is just nod, and instead, you’re pissing about, making a fucking joke of yourself!”

“I’m sorry!” Her voice sounded almost desperate and she recoiled from her companion’s stabbing finger, jerking away as though it were the blade of a knife. She hurried after the skeleton when he stalked onwards, scooping up the silken hem of her shimmering red evening gown to follow. “Don’t be angry, I’m sorry!”

“I’m sorry!” he mimicked. Joe could almost see him in profile. The man’s face was disguised by makeup that turned his face into a skull.

Seemed a bit rich for him to be accusing someone of making a joke of themselves.

“The man’s an investor in my film, and I wanted him to know that I’m serious about my art, and then you’re there hanging over my shoulder, interrupting and gobbing on about God knows what!” The man clenched his hands. Even they were tricked out in skeleton makeup. “Why do you wind me up like this? You do it on purpose, for fuck’s sake, then it’s all I’m sorry! Well, you bloody well will be!”

“He was laughing too,” the woman said, a fresh note of desperation in her sing-song voice. No, not desperation. Fear. “He was having a good time, you’re not thinking straight! Just—please, don’t be like this!”

“My thinking’s perfectly clear!” The man gave a long sniff then, and Joe knew exactly what was going on.

The drugs are talking.

The man stopped where he was and raised his hand at the woman. The way she flinched back told Joe that this wasn’t the first time it had happened. As she drew away, he saw her makeup clearly, a glamourous sugar skull in a rainbow of colours that nearly took his breath away.

“Please don’t,” was all she said.

Joe increased his pace. The man’s raised hand trembled, but in a split second he slapped the woman across her painted face.

Joe ran.

He was on the couple in only a few steps and interposed himself between them. He didn’t look back at the woman, but could hear her frightened breathing just behind him. “That’s enough. Time for you to go.”

“And who the fuck are you, James Bond?” the man sneered.

“I’m not going to stand around and watch a bully like you slap a woman.” Joe clenched his fists, resisting the temptation to give Skeletor a taste of his own medicine.

“A woman? That’s a fucking joke. She’s a drag queen—a bloke!”

Joe turned to look at the woman.

A bloke?

Was she?

About the Authors

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Eleanor Harkstead likes to dash about in nineteenth-century costume, in bonnet or cravat as the mood takes her. She can occasionally be found wandering old graveyards. Eleanor is very fond of chocolate, wine, tweed waistcoats and nice pens. Her large collection of vintage hats would rival Hedda Hopper’s.

Originally from the south-east of England, Eleanor now lives somewhere in the Midlands with a large ginger cat who resembles a Viking.

You can follow Eleanor on Facebook and Twitter

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Catherine Curzon is a Royal historian who writes on all matters of 18th century. Her work has been featured on many platforms and Catherine has also spoken at various venues including the Royal Pavilion, Brighton, and Dr Johnson’s House.

Catherine holds a Master’s degree in Film and when not dodging the furies of the guillotine, writes fiction set deep in the underbelly of Georgian London.

She lives in Yorkshire atop a ludicrously steep hill.

You can follow Catherine on Facebook and Twitter and take a look at her Website.

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Giveaway

Enter to win  a FREE Catherine Curzon & Eleanor Harkstead romance book

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Notice: This competition ends February 2nd, 2021 at 5pm GMT. Competition hosted by Totally Entwined Group.

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Release Blitz: Alpha’s Sacrifice by Nora Phoenix

Alpha’s Sacrifice by Nora Phoenix

Irresistible Omegas #1

Alpha's Sacrifice Cover - Final

 Release date: April 12, 2018

Cover Design: Vicki Brostenianc (Vic’s Pics)

Blurb

Four men, brought together by fate, connected in more powerful ways than they’d ever imagined.

Lidon, the powerful alpha-cop, determined to never trust another partner—until he helps the vulnerable omega through his heat and connects with him in a way that leaves him reeling.

Enar, the alpha-doctor who dedicates his life to serving omegas who need his help. He works himself to the bone, anything to drown out his inner voices that scream at him he’s not a real alpha.

Palani, the sassy beta reporter who will do anything to save his omega lover, even if it means watching another man claim him.

Vieno, the omega who suffers from a medical condition that requires an alpha’s help. It was supposed to be sex, but his attraction to the alpha goes much deeper. But how can he betray Palani like this?

When Vieno’s freedom is endangered, he needs Lidon to save him. The alpha steps up, but the consequences of his choice are more far-reaching than anyone of them had foreseen.

Four men try to figure out what they are to each other amidst political unrest, investigations into corruption and fraud, a medical issue that is far bigger and more sinister than it seemed at first, and old legends that are turning out to be real.

NOTE: Alpha’s Sacrifice is an MMMM mpreg romance and the first book in the Irresistible Omegas series. It is not a stand-alone and ends on a cliffhanger.

Please note trigger warnings for mentions of rape, sexual assault, suicide, miscarriage, and abortions and a minor storyline involving depression.

MeetNGreet-Alpha's Sacrifice

 Excerpt

Vieno hummed along to Barbra Streisand as he emptied the kitchen cupboards. It had been months since he’d taken all the china and glassware out and had cleaned the shelves with the lemon-scented cleaner he preferred. Cleaning always calmed him, and considering how twisted his insides felt, like his stomach was corkscrewed, he could do with a little soothing. 

Ten days until his next heat. Ten days until he had to make a decision all over again, to use suppressants or not. To seek a caretaker or not. To find the courage to approach Lidon…or not. 

His mind was saying one thing, his heart another, and his body, oh, his body knew exactly what it wanted. How fucked up was that? It was a lose-lose-lose situation. 

If he asked a caretaker—that’s what his mind was urging him to do—he’d lose part of his dignity, maybe even part of himself. He wasn’t sure if he would ever recover from being treated like a whore again, which was undoubtedly what would happen. His mind might be okay with it, but his soul wasn’t.

If he took the suppressants—the option his heart was telling him—he’d reset the improvement of his health and once again start on that not-so-slow decline. Plus, they were weighing heavy on their budget, and even with both their jobs they cost too much money to afford long term.

Yet if he asked Lidon—and his body was begging him to please, accept his knot again—it would chip away at Palani’s love for him all over again. How many times until there was nothing left but brokenness? 

Author Bio

Nora Logo Gold

When she was a little tot, Nora’s mom got a library subscription for her. That, as they say, was that, and a lifelong love for books was born. Nora never stopped reading and doesn’t exaggerate when she says she devours books, rather than plain reads them.

She started writing stories as soon as she could hold a pen, and wrote her first full book as a teen (on a typewriter!). It took her waaaay too long to follow her dream to become a romance author.

Nora writes M/M romance, because hello, sexy boys, and likes her men flawed, strong, and a tad broken. She appreciates a little kink but insists on a happy ever after.

Come hang out with Nora in her Facebook group Nora’s Nook where she shares previews, sneak peeks, freebies, and much more:

To stay up-to-date with new releases  sign up for Nora’s newsletter.

You can also stalk her on Twitter: @NoraFromBHR