Review of The Fall of Arcades (Fallen Angel, Immortal Romance #1) by Azriel Hope

“You’re a treasure I don’t deserve.” 

 

Genre: Paranormal Romance, Urban Fantasy, Horror

Length: 248 Pages

POV: Alternating First Person

Description:

Farrow Latimer, Prince of the Arcades:

I am the prince of darkness, the executioner and fallen angel royalty who is forbidden, love. No matter how many men or women I take to my bed none capture my heart.

As the Arcades teem with lust, debauchery, and destruction, I neither relish nor abhor my role as the most brutal of all and then I catch her….the small fairy halfling who seizes my world.

Rayelynn Astraides, first daughter of the Commander of Landharn’s West Shore:

The fallen angels litter the skies coming to claim us as I run from the monstrous man my father is to make me marry for failing battle school. Fallen angels are all about us and in my fear I tuck myself away.

There, beside the tree where I hide, he stands, tall, majestic, handsome… and deadly. He lets me run. I return to the battlefield to heal our wounded as I am a gifted healer. The dark angel comes again but this time to take me as his prisoner.

My world changes and I see such horror and sadness, but none greater than that which lies within the fallen prince who is disallowed love yet risks all for it.

Jennifer’s Review:

*I received this book free from the author.*

Farrow is the executioner in the Arcades. He is also the prince and lives under his father’s domineering and archaic rule. His half fallen angel side does what he is expected to do, whether it be torturing someone or cutting off their head. His half mortal side hates every second and he prays his father never notices the disgust he chokes down.

“I can’t change who I am, love. But I can try and alter the world for you.”

Rayelynn was raised by a father who despised her and brothers who tormented her, but she was strong and did not define herself by their hateful torment. She instead, took what little enjoyment she could in healing the people around her who needed it.

Everything changed they day she ran away and he captured her. Farrow’s heart is drawn to her, no matter how much he wished it wasn’t. An Rayelynn is scared of everything in the Arcades, even Farrow, but the more time they spend together the more she realizes you cannot control who you love.

“Being in the Arcades was hell to most, but I would make it a haven for her.”

The Fall of Arcades is filled with detailed horrors, overloads of sexual tension, and a very imaginative storyline. The characters are written so well you can almost feel their emotion, and in a place that is basically a hell for the Fallen there is definitely many warring emotions.

This book does end on a happy note, but by no means did it feel like an ending. More like a beginning with much more to come. I look forward to seeing what the next book has in store for Rayelynn and Fallon. Will their love conquer all? Guess I’ll have to keep reading to find out.

*Clicking on the book cover above will take you to the Amazon purchase page.

Excerpt:

“Can I not wash myself?” I squealed, softly.

“No,” he smiled, “you cannot. Now sit.” He directed me to sit on a shelf carved into the rocks. “You like this more than you’re willing to admit, Rayelynn.” There was almost a reverence to the way he said my name.

I obeyed him because I was being suffocated by the intense unfamiliar feelings in my body’s most sacred places. My sex throbbed. If only he was as kind and gentle as he pretended, I would have submitted to him … and would have willing loved him, I think. I laughed inwardly, I was no better than the wanton girls at home. I knew nothing of him but that he was a vicious killer as were all of his kind. I had to admit, despite my prejudice, there was a greatness in the Prince of Arcades and a deep understanding nature that belied a tender heart. If only he was who he pretended to be.

He slowly spread my legs and began to soap my knees.

“Please,” I begged, nearly frantic.

He lathered soap along the knobs of my joints with an excruciating deliberateness, moving slowly to my shins, then feet, giving extra attention to the hard, calloused skin around my heels. I thrust my hand forward to stop him, but he easily caught it.

“I’ve already told you, your virtue is safe. Let me do this; I wouldn’t do it for most.” His eyes were bright and loving as they met mine and he released my hand to give greater attention to my feet. “Enjoy the fact that I hold you dear.”

 

**FREE TODAY** Hunter by Eden Summers

A seductively thrilling game of cat and mouse destined to leave you breathless.

I’ve been running for ten years – fleeing my past and clawing my way toward an inescapable act of vengeance.

Until he walks into my life, sure and strong and full of secrets.

He dilutes my thirst for retribution with his touch. He obliterates my need for solitude with his kiss. But it’s his hidden agenda that makes the hair on the back of my neck prickle.

He wants something. Something that doesn’t revolve around sweaty skin and tangled silk sheets like he’d have me believe.

I have to stop falling for him, otherwise the last ten years will all be for nothing. I need to keep running, keep fighting for vengeance, even though I know he will track me down.

But trying to escape him is just another problem. Because now I crave the hunt.

I gave this book 5 Fiery Hearts! Read my review here.

And once you finish reading this you can follow it up with book 2, Decker, which I also gave a 5 Fiery Heart review. Then there is book 3, Torian, which I somehow missed, but Mindy gave it 4 Fiery Hearts. Coming out soon will be book 4, Savior. Stay tuned for the cover reveal and additional details.

Review of The Russian Thug: Abducted by the Bratva (Krasnov Brothers #1) by Rie Warren

“I want you. I want your mouth. I want your body.”

 

Genre: Mafia Romance, Action, Erotica

Length: 320 Pages

POV: Alternating First Person

Description:

I am her captor.
Her keeper.
And I don’t have a single intention of protecting her.

This mouthy tomboy is the only daughter of the O’Sullivan mafia, and they’ve been screwing us over for months. All of that changes today. I don’t like surprises but I do enjoy a challenge and, by the time I’m done with the Irish brat, the uneasy truce between our Bratva and their family will be no more than bloodstains on the streets of Boston.

I’m going to abduct her. I’m going to toy with her. I’ll control her and teach her family a lesson they’ll never forget. I can’t wait.

The Russian Thug is book 1 in the Krasnov Brothers series. No cliffhangers. No cheating. Includes sizzling hot scenes. Can be read as a standalone!

Jennifer’s Review:

*I received this book free from the author.*

Russian Bratva meets Irish Mafia, Krasnov’s vs. O’Sullivan’s, and you can guess who comes out on top.

Kirill is the enforcer for the Russian Bratva. He doesn’t hesitate in getting things done. He’ll take your head for betraying him or kidnap someone whose family is cheating them. It’s all the same to him. Just another’s day work. That is until the him he kidnaps turns out to be a her.

“When you’re in trouble, I will always come for you, malyshka.”

People referred to her as the speculative Irish princess, but she was no princess. She was a slave to her da. Just some piece of chattel. Not to her brothers though. They wanted to protect her. And leaving her with the Russian who kidnapped her was they best way they could do that.

Kirill and Jo had a chemistry that you could feel throughout the pages. Yes, she probably wanted to stab him a time or two, but honestly couldn’t blame her. However, he may have been the enforcer, but even he had boundaries. He was tough, but not once did he mistreat her.

“No man has ever given me the pleasure you just did.”

The Russian Thug: Abducted by the Bratva is an action packed, steamy-hot, and violently graphic book. From the beheadings to the shootings, from the sexual tension (between multiple characters) to the fiery sex scenes, from the mouthy lead female character to the fierce lead male character…what more could I want in a book? Absolutely nothing!

This started the Krasnov Brothers Series off with one hell of a bang and I cannot wait to see what’s next.

*Clicking on the book cover above will take you to the Amazon preorder page. The Russian Thug: Abducted by the Bratva (Krasnov Brothers #1) is scheduled to be released on April 6,2020. 

 

PROMO: Dream Chasers (Screamcatcher # 2) by Christy J. Breedlove

YA Paranormal & Urban Fantasy, YA Horror – 248 Pages

About the Book:

Seventeen year-old Jory Pike knows a thing or two about Indian lore from her half-blood Chippewa ancestry. She can trap, hunt and fish with the best of them. She has a team of three other teens friends called The Badlands Paranormal Society. Instead of bagging groceries or playing on I-pods, they think they can excel at banishing evil spirits. They hope to cleanse houses and earn fat paychecks for their services.

Dream catchers aren’t just the chic hoops tourists buy at novelty shops–they work. And sometimes they clog up with nightmares until they collapse under their own evil weight, imploding and sending the dreamer into an alternate world. Jory uses her worst nightmare to enter the dream catcher world. She’s pulled her teammates in deliberately. Everything goes right on schedule but they’ve bitten off more than they can chew. Now Jory and her friends are there, trapped between the people who have confessed their sins to the Great Spirit and are seeking a way out, and the monsters and evil spirits, which are happy to keep them trapped in the web world forever.

They were once considered Seekers in the dream world. Now they’ve become vigilantes and call themselves Pathfinders. Is it spiritual enlightenment they after? Or have they now become fatally reckless?

Excerpt:

Marie nodded and led them through a sunken living room and up a spiral staircase. As they plodded over the plush carpet, Jory heard a faint tapping sound coming from one of the upstairs bedrooms. The noise increased in volume as they entered a locked door, which Marie opened with a trembling hand. It was the master bedroom. The king-sized bed took up the back wall, flanked by white maple end tables. It included a chest of drawers and a rose-colored porcelain vanity. A nearly three-foot diameter dream catcher sat over the scrolled headboard, hanging by its rim on a decorative hook. The largest one Jory had ever seen.

As the team watched, the dream catcher oscillated, tapping the wall at times and then vibrating into a blur. Jory detected a fetid odor emanating from it that nearly made her gag. Beaded lengths of leather-like strands ended in large, dangling feathers. Jory stepped up to the side of the bed and examined it more closely.

Darcy took out a notepad and poised a pen over the first page. Red-haired, and with a short plump body, she planted her feet firmly with her knees bent. She looked determined and seriously focused.

“The feathers are real,” Jory began, “and they’re a haphazard mixture of genuine owl and eagle feathers, denoting man and woman. The four multicolored gemstones symbolize the four compass directions. The hoop is red nettle stalk and the web strings appear to be leather. It has eight, no, make that seven connection points to the eye.”Jorlene squinted, having difficulty discerning the details. “There are three teeth hanging from each strand and I can’t tell if they are bear or wolf teeth.” She sighed deeply. “It’s really a mess, a true hybrid monstrosity. They added the center feather, which symbolizes the breath of life, probably to make it look busier. The teeth are out of place, replacing ordinary charms.”I’ve seen something like you before.

The dream catcher slapped the wall hard several times and then vibrated again. Jory reached out to touch it and an arc of electricity shot out and snapped inches from her hand. The onlookers reared with a simultaneous jolt. It looked to be protecting itself or threatening them.

Jory grimaced. “I think it knows we’re here.” Even though she was half-blood Chippewa, it acted like it recognized an ancestral spirit link in her. You might have been crafted decades ago, but that means you’re probably filled with white men’s nightmares. What in God’s name infested you?

“What does it all mean?” asked Marie. “Who is it?”

“Well…” Jory blew out a sigh, still staring at the dream catcher. “It’s a mess, with everything but the kitchen sink thrown into it. It’s not fully Ojibway-Chippewa from my ancestry. It stylistically resembles the basic Lakota-Sioux from the 1960s when feathers from the eagle and owl were not yet a protected species. It’s had a lot of additions over the years and was most likely sold as a tourist piece from an original Sioux craftsman.”

Jory faced Marie square on. “Do you know if you are the original owner?” She did not feel that this woman or her husband were responsible for the dream catcher’s haunted behavior. It might have been contributory, though. The catcher acted like it had taken the worst dreams that any persons could conjure up.

“I was told there were a lot of previous owners,” said Marie. “But no details were given about those persons. I didn’t think it was something you’d ask. Do you think I did this? I have had some terrible nightmares, you know. So has my husband.”

“You seem too sweet,” said Choice, buttering her up again. “It’s got some real bad juju from some past owners.”

Correct answer, but there you go again showing off your hunky features and superior intuition. Jory was certain eighteen year-old Choice Daniels was frustrated by the fact that she’d put a halt on their physical intimacy until she turned of legal age. Besides, this assignment was all business. His dark Irish good looks were a magnet to Marie’s eyes of steel. Jory would let him play it out, knowing she’d fallen for him for the same reasons.

“Are you stocked with food and medicines?” asked Darcy.

“It’s all in the refrigerator and cupboards,” said Marie. “Help yourself to anything you need. I’ve also left the check and extra keys on the kitchen counter. If you don’t need me anymore, I’d like to catch my flight.”

Jory gave her a hug and whispered, “We’ll get your house back for you.”

Marie clasped her hands church-like. “Bless you. Bless you all!” She strode from the room, glancing back with a pained expression. Her hurried steps thudded down the staircase. A minute later, the front door slammed.

Just after tapping a dozen times against the wall, the dream catcher dripped a few syrupy globs from the bottom of the hoop. The team members stared at each other. Nothing needed to be said. Their work was cut out for them. There was no respect for the catcher’s true cultural beginnings; it had been an original at one time, crafted with care and love. What now hung before them was a collection of knockoff junk parts, like an old classic Chevy that had been loaded down with aftermarket imitations. Jory could tell what had been added or subtracted. The biggest question concerned the identity of the previous owners. It’s loaded with nasty visions from nasty people. This catcher is in terminal shock, ready to bust loose.

 

Social Distancing

Social Distancing has its definite drawbacks, but it’s best to try and find the positive. It is giving families more time together. A time for parents to re-bond with their ever-growing children. Maybe just a time to rethink your direction in life. Or get in some much needed relaxation time.

For some it is more stressful. Many have gotten laid off. Unemployment is at an all time high. But at least the government is trying to expedite everyone getting this. I know for some that isn’t much of a relief. All I can say is, “Don’t stress over things you cannot change.”

For me, I always held a great respect for teachers, but now that’s grown immensely. I can honestly say we’ve grown as a family. My children spend more quality time working together instead of fighting. It reminds me that the little things in life are important.

Anyway, I ramble sometimes.

I wanted to let all of you know that we will be adding in some extra promos throughout the next couple months. We get so many requests for reviews every day and never have enough time to get to them all. Normally if the synopsis seems like something I would read (if I had time) I’ll promo it. However, I’ll be adding in a few books that are not my normal genres in case any of you may enjoy them. Plus, I always love helping a fellow indie author if I can.

Happy reading! ~ xoxo Jenn

 

PROMO: Finding Your Voice: A Path to Recovery for Survivors of Abuse by Mannette Morgan

Self-Help (Sexual Abuse/Abuse Self-Help) – 275 Pages

This is a subject near and dear to my heart and it’s usually one that goes undiscussed by many. Don’t hide away in the shadows. Find your voice. Find yourself. And if starting with a book is your way to do that, then here is an excellent way to begin. ~Jennifer

“An excellent book which can help not only survivors of abuse, but all women who are feeling like victims.”
– Library Journal

About the Book:

Finding Your Voice is a personal, comprehensive guide for survivors of abuse making the journey toward healing. Led by an author who has walked the path for more than three decades, readers will find encouragement and hope as they move step-by-step to a place of recovery.

Part memoir, part blueprint for recovery, Finding Your Voice uses a mix of personal anecdotes, accumulated knowledge, expert techniques and good, common sense to help readers navigate a new path in the aftermath of abuse.

With clear instructions and insightful examples, the author leads readers through the five stages of healing— while teaching them how to improve and strengthen their relationships – built upon the foundation of years of self-help work, therapy, and reflection, and the author’s own transformative approach to healing.

Recognize abuse Embrace the Big 3- Self acceptance, love and self-respect Understand how your behaviors are the key to lasting change Learn how to manifest your true desire Discover the joy you deserve by applying the “Happy Booster.”

The healing journey takes time and patience. The mix of empathy, practicality and encouragement running throughout Finding Your Voice provides the ideal guide for that journey.

A workbook is available as a companion to Finding Your Voice.

*As always, by clicking on the above cover it will bring you to the Amazon purchase page.

PROMO: This Time (Nadira Holden, Demon Hunter #1) by Azaaa Davis

Urban Fantasy, Paranormal, New Adult – 250 Pages

About the Book:

Legendary demon hunter Nadira Holden paid the ultimate price to end the war between demons and hunters.

Resurrected in present-day New York, many years have passed, everyone moved on without her, and the demons she once battled have made peace with humans. Nadira no longer has a purpose here. Dying again might be her ticket back to that “next life” she experienced.

Except humans are disappearing, and Nadira’s father is one of the missing. Feeling a strong obligation to find him before sorting out her own fate, she begins investigating.

She won’t rest in peace unless she can prove the demons are behind the disappearances. But Nadira is running out of time. The darkness within her is causing her to lose her humanity while the rest of mankind is on the verge of enslavement to the demons they now worship.

Fight with Nadira in a new urban fantasy series that combines monster-slaying action, family drama, and simmering romance. Experience why not even death can stop her.

Fans of Vampire Hunter Anita Blake, Succubus Georgina Kincaid, Buffy The Vampire Slayer and Vampire Death Dealer Selene are possessed and eagerly awaiting the next book by fantasy author Azaaa Davis.

Excerpt (on behalf of the author):

Chapter One

NADIRA WOKE UP ENCOMPASSED IN EMPTINESS. It was as if she were in a void with no light or sound to give her a clue about her location. The air was musty, and her throat was scratchy. Nadira coughed.

“Hello?” she croaked, triggering more dry coughing. She cleared her throat and tried again. “Hey! Can anyone hear me?”

Nadira felt a solid surface along her back and behind her head and legs. She understood she was lying somewhere. Nadira tried to touch her surroundings and could barely move her arms before they hit the cushioned ceiling mere inches above her. As she continued to move, her elbows hit the cushioned sides, and her knees hit the ceiling. Feeling surrounded, Nadira realized she was in an enclosed space. Taking a deep breath, she tasted stale air. Some kind of crawlspace or trunk was her best guess.

After a long night of sleep, Nadira expected to feel ready to tackle another day. Summer was the peak of training season, and Nadira was looking forward to a few weeks of scrimmages that would allow her hunters to show off and make her look good as team leader. Instead of feeling refreshed, her body was sore, her head ached, and her stomach was empty. She felt a weakness and discomfort that only happened when she mistakenly slept for far too long. But, what am I doing here?

She tried to keep her breathing even and decided to feel around with her hands for a doorknob or latch. Behind the cushion that surrounded her on all sides, she felt a more solid barrier, like wood. Was someone playing a cruel trick on her? Nadira’s racing mind landed on Melissa—the girl that hated her success in class and on the training mat. Nadira usually ignored her, and all the other annoying cohorts. But, that didn’t stop them from whispering about her and occasionally playing pranks.

“Let me out!” she screamed with all her might. The sound was hoarse, almost a growl. Nadira hit the wooden ceiling as hard as she could. No response. No one ran away in fear or came closer to open this padded, wooden cage. Her breathing was no longer controlled. She practically hissed, her breathing was so rapid and shallow. Breathe deep, Nadira commanded.

This couldn’t be Melissa’s doing. It wasn’t her style. Besides, Melissa was preoccupied lately with Devon, her new boyfriend. One of Melissa’s flaws was that she couldn’t multitask, especial when a guy was involved. After ruling Melissa out, Nadira asked herself if this was a training exercise. Countless times, Nadira and her team experienced grueling trails designed to test a hunter’s lethal effectiveness against monsters. But, she was far beyond her student days of trick interrogations and unexplained battle simulations. At the very least, there would have been some whisper about her team getting tested. Nadira concluded that this couldn’t be a training exercise either.

Her shallow breathing was the only sound she could hear. It caused the air to become hot. Her heart raced again as she considered the awful possibility that an enemy captured her overnight. Although she should, she didn’t remember going to bed last night. Actually, she didn’t remember anything . . . Nadira’s hands started to shake. Cold sweat made the fabric of her nightgown stick. She felt like a disgusting mess. She was never a mess. She was strong and focused. She was a warrior.

Think, Nadira commanded herself. Someone has you trapped in a cold, dark place. For a second, she considered staying put and waiting for a rescue. That second passed quickly. Nadira preferred to rescue herself. She also considered preparing for the next time her enemy came to check in on her. Once, she escaped from a car trunk by fighting her way out when the vehicle stopped. The trick was to listen for your moment, and time it just right. Yet, somehow, she didn’t think she had enough air to wait around for anything other than death.

She was not afraid to die, no demon hunter was, but she wasn’t ready either. It was simply not her time. With that thought, Nadira ripped and tore at the ceiling of her confinement. Self-discipline and skill helped, but her genetic makeup—unique to Children of Orion—gave her the brute strength needed to destroy her cell. Silky cushy fabric gave way to wood. Wood chips, chunks, and splinters finally gave way to solid dirt.

She was panting, already exhausted. She wasn’t sure how many minutes went by, but the solid dirt indicated that she still had a long way to go. She couldn’t see her hands in front of her, but she could feel the cuts and bruises she was inflicting on herself in her effort to escape. Nadira’s hands were bloody and cramping from the repeated motion. She kept digging. Ignoring pain and discomfort was something that all demon hunters were taught. I can do this.

She took a moment to pull her nightgown over her face as a makeshift mask. With her eyes closed, she kept at it. As the hole got bigger, more dirt slid into the box she was in. The weight of the loose soil on her face, chest and upper body was suffocating in its heaviness. She was at the point of no return now that the last of her air was escaping. Yet, Nadira didn’t give in to panic. Focused, she kept digging and pulling herself upward while breathing as best she could with her face covered.

Nadira lost track of time—not that she knew what time it was when she woke up in this nightmare. Her mind was buzzing with a single thought. Survive. Nadira chanted to herself in an endless loop. She got sloppy with her arm movements, with her pulling and wiggling. However long she’d been clawing her way to freedom was too long. She paused, taking a few more shallow breaths through the cloth that was acting as a mask. She wanted to stop, to regain her strength, but she ignored her fatigue. Reaching up yet again, she pulled more dirt down. This time she felt nothing around her fingertips. Finally, there was space!

With renewed determination, Nadira pried and hoisted herself up, kicking her legs as if she was swimming through the soil. Her hands first, then forearms. Next, her head, and lastly her shoulders escaped imprisonment. Immediately, she ripped her nightgown away from her face and took deep breaths of the fresh, crisp air. With a bit of tugging and wiggling, Nadira’s waist, then her hips, her legs, and lastly her feet became unburied. She collapsed next to the hole she crawled out of and looked at the night sky. In the cool wind, fallen leaves rustled gently all around Nadira. She was panting and filthy, covered in dirt from head to toe. But, she was free.

Only when her breathing was back to normal did she move. Sitting up, she was reintroduced to her headache. It forced her to move at an even slower pace. She noticed her hands first. They were a bloody mess. Great. She won’t be holding a weapon anytime soon. The second thing she noticed was the long, soft pink dress she was wearing. It was far from the sports bras and shorts she normally wore to bed. She was filthy, homeless looking, but all in one piece and healthy enough. No time to wonder who changed her clothes, or who bothered to style her dreadlocks—formed by constantly twisting her naturally curly hair until the thick twists became permanent—with white ribbons.

Looking around, she saw that she was in a cemetery. Her sigh of relief was shushed by the wind carrying the sound away. Nadira felt safe for now, knowing she was free and unguarded. Of all the awful ways to kill an enemy, why this horrible yet passive method? To bury someone alive was a sadistic, cowardly and lacking in honor. Only one answer came to mind.

“Demons,” she growled.

                 

*As always, by clicking on the above covers it will bring you to the Amazon purchase pages.