Excerpt from Diamond Moon Rising by Celia Breslin
A thump from outside on his deck, heavier than the staccato taps of the hail, halted him in his foyer. More offbeat thuds sounded near the front door.
Company in this weather?
No one would venture up his private road uninvited…
He stalked to his door and released a bit of power in warning. If they were a shifter, they would likely take the hint. And if they didn’t… Well, he was a dominant wolf, a Beta, and one of the alpha’s enforcers.
They don’t stand a chance.
The feedback froze his fingers on the doorknob.
Female.
He inhaled. Damn, she smells good.
Human. Wolf.
Wait…both?
The copper tang of blood hit his nose. She’s injured.
He flung open the door and caught his visitor off guard, one small, white fist raised to knock. The woman startled then fell forward. Ross caught her in his arms then pulled her inside, kicking the door shut with one booted foot.
The petite female sagged against him, a shivering bundle of sopping wet woman. Underneath the dampness, her scent drop-kicked his gut.
Fresh and sweet, like apples dipped in cinnamon and honey.
His body perked up, taking extreme notice. A growl of possession threatened to tear out of his throat, and an ancient, primal energy stirred to life inside him, accelerating his pulse.
Holy hell, she’s my potential mate.
The scent of her blood spurred him into action. He lowered her gently to the floor. “Are you okay?”
His instincts urged him to check her for wounds everywhere, but he was a stranger and didn’t want to spook her. But goddamn, he wanted to touch her. Peel off her wet clothes. To see all of her and warm her with his body.
With a jacket covering her torso, baggy jeans hiding her legs, and a ball cap pulled low over her face, all he could see so far was her quivering pale chin, full red lips, and delicate, trembling fingers peeking out from her coat sleeves.
“S-s-sorry, d-dripping all ov-v-ver your f-f-floor,” she said, her teeth chattering.
Her snow-white fingers curled into fists, her arms trembling with the effort to keep herself upright. Blood droplets dotted the floor plank near her hip.
To hell with propriety. “You’re injured. Let me help you.” He pulled up her cap and damn near swallowed his tongue.
Big green eyes blinked up at him from a face so pale it made him think of moonlight. Drenched, short black hair lay plastered to her head, the ends framing features reminiscent of the fairies his sister loved to draw.
Ethereal beauty. Want her to be my beauty.
She flinched and batted his hand away. “Stop,” she rasped before listing to her side, her body trembling.
With the cold or fear?
He desperately didn’t want her to be afraid. “Sorry. Please, let me help you. I’m Ross. You’re safe here. I promise.”
A Bewitching Guide to Halloween
Pre-Order Blitz - Lunar Seductions: A Limited-Edition Collection of Paranormal and Fantasy Romance Stories #Shifters #PNR
Bewitching Book Tours Conjures the Second Annual Spooktastic Haunted Book Fair
A Festival of Oddities is This Weekend!!!!
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Visit the Macabre Marketplace with over 100 peddlers of the peculiar, grab lunch on Food Truck Row, adopt a new familiar in our Creature Cavern, visit the Living Library to meet your favorite true crime and horror authors, tour the haunted Courthouse Square Museum and peruse exclusive exhibits, and so much more!
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Guest Blog- MalaBrava by Carol James Marshall #Horror #DarkHumor
Excerpt:
Griselda grew up in Malabrava. Her family founded the town. The streets, the smells, the houses, the people, and even the squirrels with knives run through her veins. She loves Malabrava and all its quirks.
Grizzy is a Del Monstruo. Not the youngest, not the oldest. She’s the middle-aged one. The Auntie. The one who never married, never wanted to. Grizzy’s the one people call when something needs to be handled. Because that’s what Grizzy does. Grizzy handles things.
Nobody asks how. It’s understood. Grizzy is what some might call sketchy with a heart of gold. She’ll go to war for the people she loves, and she has a clean, no-fuss method of decapitation for the ones she doesn’t.
She lives in the family home, dead center in the town of Malabrava. Her parents retired to a smaller place on the outskirts, saying they needed more land for at-home burials. Her sister Gracie prefers her condo near their parents. Gracie said that the convenient burial space is a plus. Makes cleanup easier.
They left Grizzy the house. You’d expect a gothic mansion, right? This is Malabrava, where things creep in broad daylight. A home for someone called Del Monstruo should come with bats, cobwebs, a gong, a butler who only groans, and a maid with wild frizzy red hair and access to the gong.
But no.
Grizzy’s grandfather was a modernist. Way ahead of his time. He wanted to be a supervillain, and in his mind, supervillains needed sleek, sprawling homes with underground bunkers, hidden rooms, and plans for a moat.
He never made it to “super.” He was a decent villain. He refused to recycle and regularly flipped off children, but he lacked the follow-through. He couldn’t commit to one evil scheme long enough to earn the title.
Grizzy’s grandmother was the true force. A science-minded woman with dangerous ideas. She adored the modern mansion. It gave her room for her lab.
That lab became Grizzy’s favorite place in the world.
Grizzy the fixer, the inventor, the one always tinkering away in her lab is deeply loved by her family. But her mother, a devout occultist with a dramatic streak, had other hopes. She wanted Griselda to be witchy. Ideally, a Voodoo Priestess. She always said Griselda looked striking in white. Though, in the end, she would’ve settled for a kitchen witch with a solid essential oil game.
Her father, a known vampire, had his hopes too. Gracie inherited the thirst. Gracie was the one born with a taste for blood.
But not Grizzy.
Instead, she snuck into her grandmother’s lab as a child. Touched everything labeled “Do Not Touch.” Sniffed everything marked “Hazard.” Dreamed of beakers and blueprints. She ignored every warning.
At twelve, she came out to the family as a Mad Scientist.
Her parents told her they loved her. Accepted her, a little reluctantly. Gracie grinned. She had another reason to be the favorite now.
They threw a family barbecue for her official announcement. The cousins came. The uncles, the aunts, the vaguely-related lurkers. Grizzy cut a cake shaped like a beaker and declared, “I’m a Mad Scientist, like Granny.”
There was a pause.
Some awkward glances.
Then applause.
The Del Monstruos were known for monsters...being them, birthing them, bargaining with them. But Grizzy wasn’t rattled by the hesitation. She knew the truth.
What was better than being a monster?
Inventing them.




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