The road to freedom is a river of blood. I was tricked. Betrayed. And now the primordial evil has the throne. The asura and my closest friends are in his control, and the sky world is in lockdown with me trapped outside of it. Only the deva can stop him now, but the key to summoning them is inside the royal domain. Someone needs to activate it. That someone will have to be me. But the power he wields is immense, and his true goal is a mystery that I don’t have time to unravel. I need allies. I need an army. And I need a way back into the royal domain. My task feels impossible, but with the help of a few unexpected allies I might just be able to pull it off. The primordial evil stole my throne, my people, and the man I love. I plan to get them back starting with my Araz. By the time I'm done, evil will tremble at the sound of my name. Join Leela and Araz in the final thrilling instalment of the Labyrinth of Gods.
Debbie Cassidy lives in England, Bedfordshire, with her three kids and very supportive husband. Coffee and chocolate biscuits are her writing fuels of choice, and she is still working on getting that perfect tower of solitude built in her back garden. Obsessed with building new worlds and reading about them, she spends her spare time daydreaming and conversing with the characters in her head – in a totally non psychotic way of course. She writes Urban Fantasy, Fantasy and Reverse Harem Fantasy. All her books contain plenty of action, romance and twisty plots.
Strange visitors have appeared in Ethel, their clothes and mannerisms jarring
against the familiar rhythm of the coastal town. The woman in Orla and Dave's
spare room speaks in archaic phrases and marvels at electric lights, while the
silent man staying with Molly and Cormac carries a translucent device that
glows with symbols no one recognizes.
As fog rolls in from the sea, bringing with it the now-familiar whispers and
cold spots that signal another haunting, the four friends realize they must
unravel the temporal mystery before them. The clock tower strikes at midnight,
and both past and future hang in the balance.
*Contains mature themes, open door sex scenes, and mature language.
Three years ago, the small town of Ethel, VA, was rocked to
its core when the lighthouse became a beacon for something an-cient and hungry.
Every year since then, we’ve cast a protection spell, tying knots in rope while
visualizing a protective shield, at the weathered tower a week before Samhain,
our voices car-ried away by the salt-tinged wind. This year’s no different.
Cormac’s slender fingers intertwine with mine as we
ap-proach Orla and Dave across the grassy shoreline. We’ve man-aged to mostly
heal from the toxic tendencies of the past—the jealousy, the competition, the
midnight arguments that left scorch marks on the walls. Magical abilities
complementing each other have a tendency to do that, like puzzle pieces finally
finding their fit.
The mid-October sunlight glints off Cormac’s long, blonde
hair, turning each strand into spun gold against the blue sky. We don’t meet
here at night anymore, not since the shadows began to move independently of
their owners. She gently squeezes my hand in reassurance, slight crow’s feet
crinkling around her eyes with a smile that blooms one of my own in return. She
tries to continue her broody exterior by wearing a scuffed leather jacket with
silver buckles, but her face is too full of light these days to continue the
façade.
“It’s about time you two showed up,” Orla says as she wraps
me in a hug, her dark curls tickling my cheek. Her automatic soul-possessing
ability takes hold straight away, a warm honey-like sensation flooding through
my veins. I feel her anxiety—sharp and metallic—and she feels mine. While hers
is about the treacherous events three years ago, mine is about the small
vel-vet box burning a hole in my pocket, holding a moonstone ring for Cormac.
I know she’ll say yes; I hear Orla’s thoughts echo in my
mind like a whisper in an empty room. To assuage her anxiety, I push forward
images of Cormac and me from earlier in the morning. We’d stayed in bed, all
consumed with passionate kisses and bodies moving in rhythmic dance together;
sheets twisted around our ankles, the taste of her still on my lips.
Okay, okay, you’re excused for being late, Orla sends
through the connection, her mental voice tinged with amuse-ment. Then it’s gone
as Dave, tall and broad-shouldered in his flannel-lined jacket, gently pulls
her out of the hug. He com-plements her power as Cormac complements mine, his
deep voice carrying over the crash of waves against the shore.
“Did you actually expect them to be on time?” he asks her,
his breath visible in the chilly air.
Orla looks at me, her eyes sparkling, and we snicker like
schoolgirls sharing a secret.
“Some of us know how to keep a woman in bed,” I goad Dave,
watching his cheeks flush crimson.
Before he can respond, Cormac says, “Guys, I think you
should come over here,” her voice tight with tension.
She’s rounding the other side of the lighthouse, her boots
crunching on the path. I jog over to her, worried she might be in danger, the
wind whipping my hair across my face. Once I’m next to her, I’m struck with
frozen terror, my breath catching in my throat. As Orla and Dave’s footsteps
catch up, I try to count the sleeping bodies sprinkled around the remnants of a
bonfire.
Sprawled across the damp autumn ground lies a peculiar
as-sembly of slumbering figures—some adorned in woolen cloaks and flowing
medieval gowns; others draped in shimmering flapper dresses and tweed vests and
flat caps. The incongruous sight sends a chill down my spine, conjuring
memories of that haunted night years ago when phantoms in pheasant feathers and
tarnished armor materialized from the mist. Could history be repeating itself?
I draw Cormac closer, my fingers tightening protectively around her shoulder. A
bitter wind sweeps through the clearing, rustling crimson leaves and stirring
the strange visitors from their dreams.
“Oh, halloo,” calls a woman with cascading silver-streaked
hair that catches the morning light. Deep laugh lines frame her eyes as she
rises gracefully to her feet, brushing debris from her embroidered skirts. Her
button nose crinkles above heart-shaped lips as she smiles warmly. “I’m Marie.
We weren’t expecting anyone so early.”
“You’re days early for Samhain,” Orla informs her, her voice
carrying across the clearing.
“Samhain!” exclaims a younger woman with stylish curls and
bright eyes. She leaps up, clapping her hands together with enthusiasm, silver
bracelets jingling at her wrists. “I’m Florian. I absolutely adore a proper
shindig.”
Another woman glides forward, her tweed vest firmly hug-ging
her body. She loops her arm possessively around Florian’s slender waist and
extends her other hand, adorned with bangles that glint in the early light.
“Kiersten,” she offers, her voice me-lodic but guarded.
“Molly, and this is Cormac,” I reply, mirroring Kiersten’s
protective gesture by drawing Cormac against my side, feeling her warmth
through her leather jacket.
“Might there be lodgings available in your village?” Marie
inquires, her eyes scanning the distant rooftops visible through the thinning
trees.
“Not anywhere that could accommodate a gathering of this
size,” Dave responds, his weathered hands resting on his leather belt.
A tall woman with anxious eyes approaches Orla hesitantly. A
man with sandy blond hair clutches her trembling arm as she nervously smooths
out her skirt. Dave and I don’t miss her flinch with his touch, juxtaposing
their closeness. It resurfaces memories from when Dave and Orla couldn’t touch.
“Hello, I’m Claudia,” she murmurs, “and may I present Alex?” Her delicate
fingers twist together nervously while Alex soothingly rubs her
goosebump-covered arms.
“Orla and Dave,” Dave announces, nodding curtly. When Alex
extends his hand to Orla, Dave intercedes and shakes his hand, so Orla doesn’t
have to.
“Um, Orla,” Alex interjects, his deep voice surprisingly
gen-tle. “Pardon our intrusion, but might Claudia ask you something rather
personal?”
“Of course, what troubles you?” Orla asks, leaning forward
with interest.
“Do you perceive others’ thoughts when you make physical
contact?” Claudia whispers, her pale cheeks blooming with a rosy flush that
spreads to the tips of her ears.
“Perhaps we should escort this assemblage to our
home-stead,” Dave interrupts, clearing his throat. “We have several spare
rooms. Not sufficient for everyone, but certainly prefera-ble to camping
outside.”
“We’d be eternally grateful,” Marie responds, casting a
con-cerned sideways glance at Claudia’s distressed expression. “A proper rest
would benefit us tremendously after our... unusual journey.”
Ghostly Howls
Ghostly Howls Book 1
Irish folklore meets
small town USA
A heartbroken half banshee, a cockle selling soul possessor, and a town haunted
by mysteries…if they don't find the killer, Orla and Molly might die before
finding their soulmates.
Orla and Dave's love has been unrequited for as long as they can remember.
Cormac and Molly are used to drawing outside the lines. None of them are
prepared for the new ghostly neighbors.
In a town that's always ostracized them, can Molly and Orla finally use their
powers openly in order to save the citizens?
*Contains mature themes, open door sex scenes, and mature language.
*Don't miss the YA series also by Stephanie Hansen - Altered Helix &
Replaced Parts
Stephanie Hansen is a PenCraft and Global Book Award Winning
Author as well as an Imadjinn finalist. Her debut novella series, Altered
Helix, released in 2020. It hit the #1 New Release, #1 Best Seller, and other
top 100 lists on Amazon. It is now being adapted to an animated story for
Tales. Her debut novel, Replaced Parts, released in 2021 through Fire & Ice
YA and Tantor Audio. It has been in a Forbes article, hit Amazon bestseller
lists, and made the Apple young adult coming soon bestsellers list. The second
book in the Transformed Nexus series, Omitted Pieces, released in 2022. Her
debut spicy paranormal romance, Ghostly Howls, released 2023. Her debut
historical magical realism, Armored Hours, released 2024. The Armored Hours
sequel, Guarded Time, released 2025 and the Ghostly Howls sequel, Ghostly
Returns, released 2026. She is a member of the deaf and hard of hearing
community, so she tries to incorporate that into her fiction.
The cards await,
ready to unveil their secrets. Are you prepared to witness their magic?
Olivia Pembroke is in her final year of The School of Wands, where she will
vie against her friends and rivals for qualification in The Final Judgment.
Designed to be the ultimate test of Intelligence, Strength, Creativity and
Courage, The Final Judgment is set by a mysterious figure called Rasmus, who is
wrapped in secrets.
Olivia has no doubt she is going to win and claim victory
and pride for her family. That is, until her grandmother dies, and leaves her
with her old Tarot Deck, which she claimed could see Past, Present and Future…
Olivia’s head was bowed, and her neck straining in its
awkward position. She had plaited her hair neatly, in a half-crown at the top
of her head, at her mother’s insistence. Olivia was already regretting the
decision. The weather was drizzling, the mist cool on her flushed skin, but she
had no protection from its light drops.
Nor did she have any shield from the flurry of
mourners.
Her mother was standing at the front, clad in a black suit
and skirt and black boots. Her face, starting to line with age, was stone cold
and remote. Her father was standing at her side, and like Olivia, he was
looking at the floor. He looked hunched and strangely small.
The casket, black and shiny, was lowered slowly into the
ground.
The priest was speaking, but his words were wrong. He was
talking about Olivia’s grandmother like someone who had never met her before;
he called her a bright and radiant light, kind and gentle and generous. She had
not been any of those things, but Olivia had loved her anyway. She had been
strong and resilient and a force of nature. She had advocated for Olivia when
nobody else had – attending every school event when her parents could not. Her
grandmother had stayed at the Pembroke Estate with her while her parents were
travelling for work, assisting with schoolwork and answering Olivia’s many
questions. She was always supportive and never judging. She always made time
for her.
But now she was gone…
And Olivia had never felt so alone. The distance between her
and parents was like a chasm, so far and almost unbreachable. Olivia blamed
them for their part in her grandmother’s death – for all that they had done to
her – and it was a thought, a feeling, that she could not shake. If they had
not sent her away, maybe she’d alive... maybe she would still be with Olivia.
She did not know what to do now.
How could her grandmother leave her? She didn’t understand.
What had seen done wrong? Olivia wanted to cry, the conflicting emotions
bubbling beneath her skin. She felt trapped, like she was suffocating under a
black cloud that only she could see.
After all, her mother was always watching – as soon as the
thought crossed Olivia’s mind, her mother turned towards her, reaching, as
though she hadn’t done anything wrong. Olivia swallowed and backed away.
“Don’t let this distract you, Olivia,” said her mother, her
quiet voice loud in the oppressive silence. Olivia jerked slightly, unable to
suppress the flinch. She did not reply.
Her mother barrelled on. “This is the most important year
for you,” she continued, oblivious to Olivia’s thoughts and feelings, as
always. “You could achieve anything.”
In
that moment, Olivia did not care.
Her grandmother was not coming back.
Lauren Louise Hazel is a Cyber Security Manager by day and
writes YA fantasy by night. She has one annoying brother and younger sister. As
she was growing up, the only item her dad would buy her without demanding her
pocket money was books. He’s hoping the writing is successful so he can get a
Ferrari!
Some of Lauren’s favourite books and influences include the
classics – like Lord of the Rings and The Hunger Games – and anything by Haruki
Murakami and GRR Martin.
Nell Fairchild knows how to survive. How to stay quiet, stay invisible, keep the worst parts of herself hidden. She’s good at it.
She’s not good at Darius Hawke.
Her father’s oldest friend. A war photographer with a dangerous past, a talent for disappearing, and eyes that see far too much.
Darius knows better than to want Nell. She’s too young, too vulnerable, and completely off-limits. He’s spent a lifetime navigating war zones, captivity, and the darkest corners of human nature. The last thing he should do is drag his best friend’s daughter into his shadows.
But some lines were made to be crossed.
And when Darius takes a temporary teaching job at Nell’s high school, staying away isn’t an option. She’s everywhere — too close, too tempting, too determined to draw him out of the darkness. And the more he resists, the hotter the tension between them burns.
If they give in, there’s no coming back.
*****
Sparrow & Hawke is a slow-burn, high-heat romance filled with forbidden desire, forced proximity, and a love so wrong it might ruin them both.
Four years ago, Darius Hawke left his mark on Nell Fairchild — and she’s never been the same. He didn’t just change her. He ruined her for anything safer, anything lesser, anything that doesn’t burn.
Then he decided she deserves better than what he is.
She hasn’t forgiven him.
Now Darius is back, and one look is all it takes to bring everything roaring to life again.
He still wants her. He never stopped.
When the violence of Darius’s past comes for them both, the heat between them goes from impossible to incendiary. But the most terrifying thing isn’t the danger closing in.
It’s what they’ll destroy to stay together.
*****
Feather & Flame is a scorching second-chance romance of both reckoning and desire between two people who are finally out of reasons to stop.
Note: This is the second book in the Birdsong trilogy, to be read after Sparrow & Hawke (Book 1).
Everyone is telling Nell that Darius Hawke is dead.
Everyone is lying.
She knows it the way she knows her own heartbeat. His absence doesn’t feel like a loss. It feels like a locked door.
Nell knows how to open locked doors.
What she finds on the other side is worse than a disappearance. Darius has been keeping secrets — about his past, his choices, the life he kept carefully separate from everything they built together. The man she finds may not be the man she thought she knew.
She still wants him back. She can’t reason her way out of that.
To reach him, she’ll have to trust a man who frightens her in ways Darius never did. Wade into darkness she can’t walk back from. And decide, when the truth finally surfaces, what she’s willing to forgive.
Some loves are worth setting the world on fire.
*****
Wishes & Wings is the explosive conclusion to the Birdsong Trilogy — a gripping, obsessive romance of danger, devotion, and a love tested until there’s nothing left but the truth.
Note: This is the final book in the Birdsong trilogy, to be read after Sparrow & Hawke (Book 1) and Feather & Flame (Book 2).
Though she was born and raised in California, Nina Lane now lives in Wisconsin where the winters are freezing and the cheese is exceptional. Mom to two teenagers and a neurotic dog, she lives in two worlds—one world of laundry, driving, horses, Girl Scouts, and football, and the other of epic romances between hot alpha heroes and the women who bring them to their knees. Nina only cooks when she can’t avoid it (i.e., there are no frozen pizzas left), binge-watches serial TV whenever she can get control of the remote, and checks in about the weather daily with her meteorologist husband. She’s a fan of popcorn, actual print magazines, French Roast coffee, working out, and trying new things...especially if it’s food.
The Earth is compromised and forbidden. The human Imperium
stretches throughout the galaxy. It terraforms planets with indigenous life,
destroying it. An organization fights against these terraforming projects, and
it is pronounced a terrorist organization by the government and the Imperator.
JO WARWICK, the heiress of Warwick Galactic Enterprises, is
on an archeological mission on the forbidden Earth. She contracts an unknown
disease, and her expedition leaves Earth. While in space, the disease kills
everyone on board but her, as she seems protected by an invisible shield.
Captain TOSHI HUNTER and his crew are activists fighting
against the terraformation projects, and after a failed attack on one of these
projects, they are pursued by the imperial ships. The chase goes on, but they
manage to escape.
And by chance, they discover the unmoving, silent ship of Jo
Warwick. They board it and see the massacre inside, but manage to save Jo.
Jo and Toshi begin
their adventure in uncovering the truth and the origin of this mysterious
disease that now threatens the galaxy, while being hunted by the imperial
troops.
What readers are
saying:
“…Prose that is gritty, direct, and sometimes a touch
awkward powers a voyage of grand proportions as a diverse cast, ancient aliens,
sensory worldbuilding, and space battles entertain with thrilling action. In
this quick read, Gurgu reveals the foolishness of humanity, moral dilemmas, the
folly of war, and the hope of second chances in a hearty science fiction
adventure.” _BookLife Review
“…Ultimately, The Cursed delivers the pleasures
of expansive science fiction: big stakes, bigger ideas, and heroes whose
personal journeys matter as much as the fate of the galaxy. Gurgu offers an
energetic, imagination-rich ride that will appeal to readers eager for
adventurous sci-fi drama—and leaves the door open for further exploration among
the stars.” —CANREADS BOOK REVIEW
“Overall, the author has a keen knack for mixing and
melding SF and the supernatural in all kinds of intriguing ways. Clear
allusions to vampirism would be too obvious; Gurgu opts instead for more
obscure archetypes: When was the last time one read about a wendigo in outer
space? A fast-paced and fun adventure beyond the stars.” - _Kirk’s Reviews
The archeology team was busy and noisy inside the Bats Cave. The huge
boulders blocking the entrance of the dry, large, very deep cave had not been a
real deterrent for Jo Warwick. Young, strong, and
beautiful, she was not used to rejection or defeat.
The cave was a
hidden gem discovered recently in the Carpathian Mountains on Earth. The entire
place seemed to be a treasure trove. And “discovered recently” meant after
the interdiction against stepping on Earth had been put in place. After the
interdiction and especially the defense mechanism had been put into place. But
that was not something to keep Jo’s family, the powerful Warwicks, away. Not
even the imperator could stop a Warwick if they put their mind to doing
something.
The co-op students
were giggling as they worked, sometimes louder than they thought they were.
With the help of electrical lamps they were collecting and cataloging ceramic
pieces, stone tools, animal remains. Next to them, real archeologists were
slowly carving into the floor after more remains. The cave was full to the brim
with signs of a very old civilization. A civilization that Jo hoped to prove
was part of the Vinca culture. The project of her life.
Professor Hannigan, a corpulent man of about sixty, was studying some cave paintings. He
tried not to expose them to too much light, or heat, or sweat, or anything else
for that matter. He was mumbling while studying. His custom, as Jo knew, adding
to the general noise in the confined space of the cave. It was becoming quite
claustrophobic.
Jo was in her
mid-twenties, athletic, newly graduated from the university, and already in
charge of her first dig. She knew how students could get, but that didn’t mean
she agreed with the practice and the indulgences.
She approached the
walls with paintings, or more accurately, pictographs. One of them in
particular had drawn her attention. The drawn figures were vaguely human. Most
had huge round eyes and concentric circular shapes on their bodies. That was
specific to the Vinca culture, to the fashion or aesthetics of their times.
That was why she could barely contain her enthusiasm, her joy—she was
ninety-nine percent sure she’d just made the discovery of her life.
The pictograph that
had drawn her attention was part of a group, representing small humanlike
figures interacting with huge masked beings in weird, ritualistic suits. In the
first panel in the group, the humans bowed to the masked figures, obviously
their deities. There were no written sources for the Vinca culture, so nothing
was known of their religion or mythology.
Jo got closer to the
drawings.
“Silence!” she
barked over the background noise in the cave. Everyone looked at her and shut
up. She was known for a frightful temper and no one wanted to enter into a
conflict with her.
“They’re just
students on their first practicum,” said Hannigan in a low voice only the two
of them could hear. He was like a grandfather to everyone on the team, always
ready to indulge them and spoil them.
“Not on my money,
they’re not,” said Jo. “They’re students in their first practice and one day
they could brag about the experience they got here. They could brag and get the
best paid gigs because of this.”
“Yes, but young
people…” Hannigan hesitated, looking at Jo. Then, probably realizing he was
talking to a young person, he gave up.
The best practice
was to ignore the old man and leave it be. She had to put up with all his
eccentricities because he was the best in the field and expert on this period
of time in Earth’s history. And he was easy to satisfy in terms of credits and
accolades. He valued money above all else.
So Jo returned to
the pictographs. She got closer to the next one. In it, a man with a wolf head
shot stars through some sort of weapon toward one of the masked figures. The
masked figure’s body was covered in symbols and shone a bright red.
In the next panel,
the masked figure had collapsed, probably dead. His body was still covered in
unknown symbols.
Jo returned to the
previous panel. The weapon looked like a bone, a real bone encrusted in stone.
The stars shooting from it had started to sparkle and fluctuate. What the…
Jo got even closer and tried to discern what could make it sparkle like that.
There didn’t seem to be anything on the stone base but the painting. She
extended her hand and held it above the sparks. No heat. She then touched the
bone embedded in the stone. Dry, porous bone. She walked her fingers over the
sparks and the shooting stars and then, a red spark passed from the stone to Jo’s
skin.
Where it touched the
skin a red impression, like a tattoo, spread on Jo’s skin. It had happened so
fast that Jo couldn’t do anything else but watch the whole thing with
curiosity. She lifted her camera to take a picture, but froze. The tattoo had
spread up her arm and down her other arm and she realized it was all over her
body, flickering on her skin. It felt like an electric shock. Jo shuddered and
collapsed.
Costi’s fiction has appeared in Canada, the US,
and Europe. He has sold 8 books and over 50 stories for which he has won 32
awards. He was three times a finalist for the Canadian Aurora Awards.
His latest sales include the anthologies Tesseracts 17, The Mammoth Book of
Dieselpunk, Dark Horizons, Street Magick, Water, and Alice Unbound.
His bestselling novel RecipeArium has won three awards (Kult, Nemira, and Vladimir Colin) and was a 2018
finalist for the Aurora Awards.
His novels, “Servitude”, “Green Corrosion”, “Pink Corrosion”, and
“Black Corrosion” were published in 2022, 2023, 2024, and 2025. And his latest
novel “The Cursed” was launched on April 1st, 2026.
“Green Corrosion” has won four awards (Book Excellence, The Typesmith
Writers, The International Impact Book, and the Maincrest Media Award).
“Black Corrosion” has been an Amazon Bestseller for three weeks and is
a finalist for Canreads Awards 2026.
