Tour Stop: Secrets of the Cryptids Cowboys and Cryptids Book 1 by Sharon Buchbinder

 

 

She never belonged to the pack—until fate led her to him.

Secrets of the Cryptids

Cowboys and Cryptids Book 1

by Sharon Buchbinder

Genre: Paranormal Romance, Romantasy

She never belonged to the pack—until fate led her to him.

Cybersecurity expert Hayil Rufus Rose has spent her life hiding one impossible truth: she’s a werewolf who has never shifted, a failure by her pack’s rules and a woman on the brink of exile. A solo hike in Glacier National Park is meant to clear her head—but instead, a chance meeting with Will Penn, a guarded federal agent with powerful instincts and secrets of his own, changes everything.

As Hayil becomes entangled in a missing persons case involving Will’s brother, she uncovers corruption, cartel money laundering, and violence threatening the Blackfeet Nation. She forms an unexpected bond with a Bigfoot family, who are not monsters, but an ancient people who recognize her latent power. Through trauma, loyalty, and near‑fatal danger, Hayil finally undergoes her full transformation, claiming her identity at last.

Secrets of the Cryptids launches a thrilling paranormal romance series about found family, fierce hearts, and the courage it takes to become who you were always meant to be.

 

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Hayil had the advantage of excellent night vision—super vision compared to other humans. Plus, she possessed an almost uncanny ability to connect with most wild and domestic animals. Hayil mentally grimaced. She could also thank her grandmother for her long overdue ability to shift. What would it take to trigger her body into the lupine version of herself? Was it like a growth spurt that hadn’t hit her body yet? Or was Hayil destined to remain the one person in her pack who wasn’t able to wolf out?

 

Once again, her mother’s constant refrain came back to her: “You’re a late bloomer, like your grandmother. She was older than you when she shifted. All in good time. You’ll see.”

 

Sure, Mom.

 

Hayil knew her mother wanted the best for her, but found her cheerfulness a bit forced. Beneath her mother’s optimism, Hayil sensed an undercurrent of concern about her thirty-year-old daughter’s ability to integrate into the red wolf clan. This missing piece of Hayil’s identity called to her like a siren’s song, demanding she complete herself. Would she ever be a true part of the pack? Or would she forever be the unmated one? What then? She was an anomaly, something the pack didn’t tolerate well. Tradition dictated that if a pack member didn’t shift by the end of their third decade, they were banished.

A chilling thought struck Hayil mid-stride.

 

If I don’t shift this year, will they force me out of the pack?

 

They were the only family she’d ever known. Her mother would fight for her to stay and would probably win. But at what cost?

 

Hayil would be an outcast. She’d never be invited to pack meetings, deliberations or celebrations. Those were reserved for shifters. If she married a non-shifter, the pack would drive her out, of that she was sure. What if her offspring were able to shift? Would that make things better? Would the pack let her stay then? It wasn’t as if she could go to a genetic counselor and ask for a DNA test for werewolves.

 

The thought of losing her extended family through no fault of her own made her gulp back tears. Angry at herself for allowing her thoughts to go down that dark rabbit hole, Hayil reminded herself she was a scientist. Review the facts, not the fears.

 

Fact one: Grandma had been in labor with Hayil’s mother when she’d shifted for the first time.

 

Fact two: The majority of the pack members had shifted when they’d hit puberty.

 

Fact three: Hormones! It had to be related to hormones! The rush of hormones at puberty and the flood of pregnancy hormones had to be related somehow.

 

Hayil was long past puberty and the associated mood swings and acne, thank you very much. She was not ready to be pregnant. For starters, she would need a romantic partner in her life. She’d had zero luck on that score so far.

 

“I still have time. It’s not too late. I won’t give up hope.”

 

Shaking her head to clear her mind, Hayil double-checked her wild animal deterrents. All in place. Then she tugged her knit cap down over her ears and pulled her hands-free headlamp into place. She zipped her fleece jacket against the breeze and adjusted her twenty-five-pound backpack. With an altitude gain of almost nineteen hundred feet, she planned to take her time, pacing herself for the strenuous four-hour hike. She grasped her lightweight hiking poles and took a last look up at the stars. Time to see that spectacular view at the top.

 

As promised by the trail blog, the dirt path was well maintained. The morning air was cold and crisp, layered with the woodsy scent of damp earth and pine needles. An owl hooted, and Hayil spotted movement in the brush between the thick pines beside the trail. Her headlamp reflected in the eyes of small critters, all of whom skittered deeper into the woods.

 

For three hours, all she heard was the crunch of her hiking boots on dirt and gravel, the rasp of her own breaths, the glug of water when she drank and the jingle of her bear bells. She looked at yet another incline on the trail and decided she needed a hiking song for inspiration.

 

“Country roads, take me home,” she sang, belting out “Mountain Mama”—and something crashed through the bushes ahead on the trail. Something large.

 

She froze.

 

An enormous black bear stood on its hind legs at the top of the hill.

 

Shit, shit, shit. If only I could shift, shift, shift!

 

The animal had its back to her, but if it got her scent, it could turn and charge at her in a flash.

 

Heart pounding like a jackhammer, she placed her hand on the bear spray.

 

A breeze sprang up, making her eyes water with its intensity. The good news was that it meant she was downwind of the bear. The bad news was that the air smelled like a wet dog had rolled in a dead animal. The worst news was that the bear turned and looked right at her.

 

Omigod. It’s not a bear. What the heck is it?

Sharon Buchbinder is an award-winning author who has been writing stories since she could hold a pen. The paranormal romance genre is her writing home, a place where the impossible is simply the beginning, where women find their power in the most extraordinary circumstances, and where love is always worth the danger of seeking it.

A Maryland-based author with a background in healthcare and higher education that has informed her vivid, grounded storytelling, Sharon is drawn to heroines who have been underestimated — women who carry something extraordinary inside them and spend the whole book learning to trust it. Sharon believes passionately that readers deserve stories where the heroine doesn’t just survive — she transforms. When she’s not writing, Sharon can usually be found unplugging in her garden, obsessing over cryptid mythology, and convincing her pets they are not, in fact, supernatural.

 

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Cover Reveal: Burnout Love Burns Series Book 7 by Isobel Reed

 

 

She thought chemistry only existed on the page, then he set her world on fire.

Burnout

Love Burns Series Book 7

by Isobel Reed

Genre: Small-Town Romance, Romantic Comedy

She thought chemistry only existed on the page, then he set her world on fire.

The only men in Lucy’s life are fictional. Which is fine. So fine. At thirty, she is happy with her life. She has a ride or die best friend. A cute little ginger cat to snuggle with. And an apartment full of books. What more could she possibly want? Well, before Jack Jones swaggered into town, with his designer suits and British accent, the answer was nothing. But now, here he is, showing up where she works, calling her beautiful and making her question everything.

Jack Jones had it all. High-powered job in the city. Fancy apartment. Women offering to warm his bed every night. Then he blew up his life. Now, he’s in small town Wyoming, doing damage control while babysitting his sister’s kids. There is one silver lining though… Lucy Mills. He felt a spark during his first visit to Woodvalley Pines, when he’d shamelessly flirted with her at the diner where she worked. Three years on, she’s somehow even harder to ignore. She’s everything he’s been searching for. If only she’d just let him in.

Return to Woodvalley Pines one last time with this swoon-worthy opposites attract romance packed full of chemistry, charm and Isobel Reed’s signature witty banter. Burnout is perfect for fans of Book Lovers by Emily Henry and The Flatshare by Beth O’Leary. Whether you’ve already devoured the other books in the Love Burn Series or are enjoying it as a standalone, you won’t want to miss this final book.

 

**Releases Sep 8 – PreOrder Now!**

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Bethany was shouting at the TV yet again while Lucy and Daisy-Mae curled up under her giant knit blanket trying not to fall asleep.

She was dangerously close to drifting off when her doorbell rang. The sound was odd enough for even Daisy-Mae to lift her cute little ginger head.

Bethany and Lucy exchanged looks. The only visitors Lucy ever had was her best friend. And she was already here. Though she supposed it could be Benny.

One way to find out.

Reluctantly, Lucy removed her blanket and padded out of the room. But as she approached the closed door, she suddenly regretted not having a peephole.

“If you’re here to murder me, you should know that I have weapons. Lots and lots of weapons,” she yelled at the door for some crazy reason.

A deep chuckle vibrated through the wood, and just like that, she was nervous for an entirely different reason.

Flinging the door open, she was met with that dangerous freaking smile. The one she couldn’t stop thinking about. Jack’s signature smart trousers and shirt had been replaced with dark jeans and a gray sweater. It was a more casual look for him. She liked it. And paired with a long charcoal fitted jacket, she was reminded that he was the finest man she’d ever seen.

“What kind of weapons are we talking about here?”

“Um. Big ones …? Knives mostly.” Wait. What are you saying? “A bow and arrow.” Oh my God, stop!

She could see him trying not to laugh, but it only made his smile wider. Even his eyes sparkled with amusement. “A bow and arrow?”

“What are you doing here?”

“What, I can’t stop by my girlfriend’s place on a Saturday night?”

“Funny. What are you really doing here?”

He tilted his shoulder until he was resting casually against the doorframe. “I figured we could work out the logistics of this new relationship. Maybe get to know my girlfriend a bit more. Feed her. Possibly grab her phone number.”

That was when it struck her … “How did you know where I live?”

Jack rubbed the back of his neck, and for the first time, he looked nervous.

He is human after all.

“Now, I’m gonna start by saying, I’m not a stalker. So no need to go grabbing your bow and arrow just yet.”

She felt herself smile, enjoying him squirm a little too much. “That’s exactly the kind of thing a stalker would say.”

“Well, I wouldn’t know that, seeing as I’m not a stalker.” That confident grin was back. “I just so happened to remember a conversation with my sister some time back where she might have mentioned her new friend Lucy. And how she lived across from Molly’s.” Why is my heart beating so fast? “I don’t know if you know this, but your apartment is the only apartment across from the diner.”

She knew. She just couldn’t believe he did. That he’d stored away passing information about her. Like a stalker.

“I’m getting my bow and arrow,” she teased as she pointed a stern finger at him.

As usual, that smooth laugh had her goosebumps causing chaos.

Still smiling, his hands came up defensively. “Is it wrong that I kind of want you to get the bow and arrow?”

A snort slipped out as she opened the door wider, making space for him to enter. When he brushed by, she absolutely did not inhale every drop of spicy vanilla, and internally whimper.

Lies.

 

Don’t miss the rest of the Love Burns series!

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Isobel was born and raised in London. While she’s a city girl at heart, she loves daydreaming about running away to a charming small town—though she’s not entirely sure her husband and son would share her enthusiasm for the move. When she’s not writing small-town romantic comedies or growing unhealthily attached to the characters in her books, you can find her reading, chasing after her very active toddler, or attempting to channel her inner domestic goddess in the kitchen (with varying degrees of success).

 

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Tour Stop: Night Times Trilogy by Eileen Sheehan

 

 

The darkest hour is only the beginning in the world of shadows.

Night Times Book One

Night Times Trilogy 1

by Eileen Sheehan

Genre: Paranormal Vampire Romance Thriller

For two hundred years, Ethan has haunted the shadows, carrying the heartbreak of losing Judith, the wife he loved before he was unwillingly turned into a vampire.

When he meets Arabella at a costume party, he's stunned by the similarities she shares with Judith. As their connection deepens, Ethan becomes convinced that Arabella is Judith reborn. But with her returning memories come dangerous secrets—knowledge from a centuries-old vampire-hunting society that could threaten the existence of every vampire alive.

Now, hunted by both a ruthless Vampire League and relentless vampire hunters, Ethan and Arabella find themselves caught in a deadly struggle between love, loyalty, and survival. As enemies close in and the past refuses to stay buried, Ethan must choose between losing Arabella forever or offering her the immortality that was forced upon him.

Night Times (Book One) begins a captivating vampire romance thriller trilogy that is filled with, forbidden love, deadly secrets, and a passion that defies time itself.

 

What readers are saying:

 

“For fans of supernatural thrillers involving vampires, Night Times has got everything they crave... Sheehan has created yet another immersive fantastical world full of vampires, witches, and monster hunters. The book is fast-paced, and since I was enjoying it so much, the pages just flew by….You're going to love this!”

 “… Sheehan doesn’t just focus on romance. She digs into what love and trust really mean when everything’s on the line. There’s also a raw look at what it means for a vampire to lose their humanity—how turning immortal tears you away from who you used to be, and from people you once knew. Immortality in this story isn’t just sparkling and forever-young; it comes with a price: isolation, loss, and sometimes the fading of your own sense of self. Still, there’s a flip side—it can mean never-ending love and the fierce desire to protect…… If you’re in the mood for a supernatural drama that goes beyond the usual tropes—one that really leans into the pain, the memories, and the kind of love that won’t quit—this book is definitely worth your time.”

  

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Prologue

The rain came down in silver threads and turned the road to black glass on the night that Ethan’s reality was changed forever.

He remembered that more clearly than he remembered his own face from that time. Faces changed in memory. They were smoothed by years and grief until they became something like paintings. But weather remained exact. The smell of wet earth. The sting of cold through wool. The way the world looked when it was nearly dark and every lamp in the distance seemed to float like a warning.

He had been running then from the thing that had already happened to him.

He had not yet learned that becoming a vampire did not feel like entering a new life. It felt like being torn from the old one with enough violence to leave a permanent shape in the soul. At first there had been only pain, then thirst, then a terrifying clarity that came with the hunger. He had not completely grasped what he was but that realization was soon to come.

And because he had understood that, he had run.

He stood now beneath the branches of the elm at the edge of the lane with the rain slipping through the leaves onto his face while he watched the light in his own house glow through the windows.

Home. The word struck him with unbearable force.

Inside, his wife and love of his life, Judith, would be setting down her sewing and folding the blanket over the arm of the chair. She would be waiting for him, although she might pretend not to be. She always pretended not to wait, as if waiting was too revealing a sort of love. But Ethan had always known. He had known by the way that she paused when she heard his footstep and by the way that she turned before he spoke while already smiling.

He’d spent three hours pacing the woods beyond the property line while fighting his own body as if it was a wild animal. His mouth still burned. His throat ached with a need so vast that it felt like a second heart beating where his was supposed to be. He had torn at his own cuff, bitten the inside of his mouth until it bled, and shoved his hands into the mud to keep from running back to the house.

The problem was that he could still smell her….

 

…“Stay where you are,” he gruffly ordered.

Her mouth slightly parted with fear. “You’re frightening me.”

He could not bear that. Not from her.

The room wavered at the edge of his vision. Hunger rose up in him with a vicious, animal certainty. And for one impossible instant he saw her as prey - not Judith, not wife, not the woman who had braided ribbons into her hair and fallen asleep reading beside the fire, but a pulse of life that he could take with one movement.

He stumbled backward.

Judith’s expression changed to alarm as she exclaimed, “Ethan!”

“No!” he bellowed. The word came out raw.

The flame shivered as she set the candle down too quickly and took a step toward him. “Tell me what happened.”

He violently shook his head. The taste of his own blood filled his mouth again, although he knew there was no wound there now. “You must not come near me.”…

 

…When Judith finally spoke, her voice was broken but steady. “Ethan.”

He closed his eyes. “Yes?”

Her voice trembled as she said, “Do not disappear from my life forever.”

That was the moment when he nearly broke. He put one hand on the doorframe to steady himself. When he spoke, his voice was almost gone. “I will try not to.”

Then he stepped out into the rain and left the house before the dawn could find him.

He never forgot the sound of the door closing behind him. He never forgot the way that Judith had stood in the light, frightened and loving and still reaching for him. And for the centuries that followed, through blood, hunger, survival, and loneliness so deep that it became a second skin, he carried one unbearable truth with him - the night he abandoned Judith, he had not yet understood that immortality was not the curse.

The curse was living long enough to remember the exact shape of the love that you were forced to leave behind.

Night Times Book Two

Night Times Trilogy 2

Arabella was supposed to be dead.

After faking her death to escape the vampires who want her gone, Arabella and Ethan disappear into Las Vegas, hoping to build a life free from fear, secrets, and bloodshed.

For six months, they succeed.

Then Olive discovers the truth.

Obsessed with Ethan and unwilling to accept his love for another woman, Olive sets out to destroy everything they've built. As jealousy turns to vengeance, Ethan and Arabella are thrust into a nightmare that will change them forever.

Filled with danger, betrayal, suspense, and immortal love, Night Times: Book Two is a gripping paranormal romance about how far people will go for love—and how deadly obsession can become.

 

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Night Times Book Three

Night Times Trilogy 3

Arabella survived death, but immortality comes with a price.

As she learns to embrace life as a vampire under Ethan's guidance, the memories of her torture and murder refuse to fade. While vampire society struggles to accept her return, Arabella secretly plots revenge against the vampires responsible for her suffering—including the woman who wanted her dead.

One by one, her enemies begin to disappear.

As fear spreads through the vampire community and suspicion grows, Arabella must balance her thirst for vengeance with the future she's building alongside Ethan. But some wounds can only heal in darkness, and some debts can only be paid in blood.

Night Times: Book Three is a dark paranormal romance filled with vengeance, passion, secrets, and a love strong enough to survive death.

 

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Eileen Sheehan is an Internationally published, Best Selling and Award-Winning author of paranormal romance thrillers & horror for the mature adult. A professional and full-time spiritual advisor and holistic practitioner for over 30 years, the majority of her 76+ novels feature the paranormal, but some are novels about people in love, and a very few are self-help. Eileen incorporates experiences through the years along with her imagination to provide the best believable and entertaining read possible. As the years progressed, so has her writing style. Although she still includes romance and strives for a happily ever after ending, her stories tend to have more mystery, thrills, and a touch of horror in them.

A former busy working mother (who is now a laid-back grandmother), Eileen understands the value of time. She makes it a point to write novels that are able to be enjoyed in one or two evenings.

 

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Tour Stop: The Belgravia Phantom The Quill & Page Victorian Mysteries Book 1 by Ellis Blackwood

 

 

Victorian mystery fiction as you’ve never read it before 

– from well below stairs.

The Belgravia Phantom

The Quill & Page Victorian Mysteries Book 1

by Ellis Blackwood

Genre: Historical Victorian Mystery

How do you prove you didn’t scare Lady Pemberton to death with a phantom?

Such is Kate Quill’s quandary. The faked séance went horribly wrong, and now Inspector Hartwell of Scotland Yard has her in his sights.

Kate’s poor. Seamstress poor. But what she lacks in the pocket, she makes up for in allies.
There are her siblings. Daisy, the actress. Ned and Vi… There’s no way around this – they’re petty thieves.

There’s Mrs McGinty, their formidable Irish landlady. There are Vi’s Whitechapel Worthies, Little Till (adorable) and the Twins (quite odd).

And there is Frederick Page, former gentleman’s gentleman, chess aficionado, lover of puzzles, and now reluctant partner in an unlikely Victorian detective duo. Please, do not refer to him as Freddie, or he’ll be grasping for the smelling salts.

Can this glorious rabble somehow band together to investigate all those lofty lords and ladies who attended the séance?

And discover who really murdered Lady Dorothea Pemberton?

The Belgravia Phantom is the first in a series of irresistible Victorian murder mysteries from the acclaimed author of the Samuel Pepys Mysteries. Expect fiendish whodunits, singular characters and vivid history. Step into London’s gaslit and swirling pea-soupers, and hear those click-clack footsteps approach...

 

**New Release on July 31!**

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When Kate closes the iron gate behind her and turns onto Settles Street, she all but barges into Constable Gibb.

“Miss Quill!” His feigned surprise would draw catcalls from a seasoned crowd.

Kate looks him up and down. His custodian helmet sits lopsided, his acne practically throbs, and his tawdry ’tache appears patchier than ever.

“Have you been here all night, Constable?”

Flushing, he plays with a brass button. “Why, no, miss, not at all. Constable Blake relieved me at… And then…” He has said too much, it occurs to him, and he clams up, transferring his attentions to his boots.

Kate cannot decide whether to be bemused or perplexed.

Passing him without another word, she strides self-consciously on, the theatre in her sights. Something tells her to stop. She does so without warning and turns.

Constable Gibb, ten paces behind, stops also, gazing up and around, whistling.

Kate blinks back her amazement. “Are you following me, Constable Gibb?”

He affects noticing her. “Not at all, Miss Quill. Not at all. Merely… strolling.”

“Then perhaps you could stroll,” she gestures back the way they came, “that way?”

He turns, strokes his chin, and after a moment’s hesitation shakes his head. “I think I’d prefer this way,” he says, pointing.

Shaking her head, she sets off apace. “Have it your way. It’s a free world, after all, Constable.”

“Well,” he returns, almost to himself. “I’m not sure about that, miss.”

 

Gibb is still following when she reaches Fieldgate Street, idly swinging his truncheon. She avoids the night-soil cart, pulled by a limping horse so glum it seems resigned to its purpose, and hurries to the stage door.

A light drizzle is falling, so fine it resembles a mist. It lends a kick to the air that might almost smell clean.

She knocks with no reply and turns anxiously. Gibb is chatting to the night-soil man.

She tries again, harder, and hears movement the other side of the door.

“Hurry up,” she urges through gritted teeth. She cannot have the police connecting Daisy with the case.

Charlie, the old stage-door keeper, blinks in the daylight. “Hmm?”

“Daisy Quill?”

“What of her?”

“I’m her sister. Remember? I was here…”

“Yes, I remember you. Daisy’s sister.”

She wants to punch him, but remembers her warning to Ned. “That’s right. Can I come in and see her?”

He gazes back into the womb of the theatre. “Can’t say as she’s here.”

“Can I check? Please. I know where she’ll be.”

He flicks something off his coat and stands aside. “Suit yerself.”

She motions behind. The cart has moved on and Gibb is barely a dozen yards distant, still affecting nonchalance. “See that copper?”

He peers through misted specs. “Just about.”

“Can you stop him following me?”

He sucks in a breath. “Don’t see how I can do that, miss. Officer of the law an’ all that.”

She pushes inside. “Tell him you saw a drunkard with a knife heading that way.”

He chuckles. “Can’t see ’im falling for that.”

“You don’t know him as well as I do.”

 

Ellis Blackwood writes very British historical mysteries: fiendish whodunits packed with singular characters, vivid period detail and plenty of wit. His completed nine-book Samuel Pepys Mysteries series is set in 17th century London. He is currently working on the Quill & Page Victorian Mysteries, featuring a found family of East End misfits investigating the crimes of the upper classes who cast them out.

A former journalist, Ellis wrote features for the UK's most popular national newspapers and magazines before escaping to Cornwall with his wife, two daughters and Spike the dog. He holds an MA in Comedy Writing, which explains a lot.

He grew up on The Hardy Boys and Three Investigators, graduated to Sherlock Holmes, and has never quite recovered from Columbo. He prefers writing female sleuths, with the odd chap thrown in, and is firmly convinced that historical settings are simply more fascinating.

"Absolutely fabulous, reek of authenticity, full of intrigue and fun" – Amazon review of the Samuel Pepys Mysteries

 

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