a #scifi #romance #CoverReveal for Spider, Jelvia: Not Human #3 by @TE_Kessler @louise_wise

She’d sold herself to a Jelvia, and he wanted full payment.

BLURB

Bethany Roberts was born into a privileged life, but all that was taken away when, at nine years old, a car crash killed her older brother, and her mother received life-changing injuries. Beth’s younger sister was too young to understand how the pressure affected their father and only saw him as a fun-time dad, spending money and giving them expensive holidays. But Beth was old enough to realise he was spending far beyond their means and drinking too much.
* He lost them their beautiful home and lifestyle.
* As Beth grew, she became a carer to both her parents and a mother to her sister, Lara. She gave up school and took menial jobs to keep a roof over their heads.
* Beth managed.
* But it all came crashing down when Lara, now seventeen years old, became a statistic of the Jelvian onslaught on humankind. She disappeared.
* And Beth, now twenty-five, has nothing to lose.
* Nothing what so ever. She <i>is</i> going to get her sister back.

Excerpt

She picked up the dress again and stepped into it. The material slithered over her skin. The dress was a perfect size. Sandals slipped on her feet like they were made for her. She turned to gaze at herself in the mirror.
* She looked like a different person.
* Beautiful.
* She could do this. She could be that beautiful woman in the mirror. The woman with the full breasts, nipples pointing through the silk of the dress. The woman with wide eyes, full mouth, pink cheeks, and the cute pixie cut.
* She looked like a woman knowing she was about to be made love to. No, she didn’t—she looked terrified. She closed her eyes on her reflection and tried to calm her roaring pulse and the sickness in her stomach.

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a look at my new release ‘To Be His’ #RomanticSuspense #GatewayRanch #Series

I’m happy to share with you wonderful readers my latest release!

First is some information about the series and the book…

About the Series

Nestled within the hills of central Texas is a special ranch. A place that defies the laws of physics—that of time, space, and dimensions. It’s a place where normal morphs with the paranormal and supernatural. A place that seems to know what a person’s true desires and needs are, and then allows the right circumstances to occur to fulfill those wishes.

Welcome to the Gateway Ranch.

Your gateway to all things possible…

About the Book

I’m Professor Arianna Perez, and I’ve been asked if I’ll ever trust, let alone love, another man again. After dumping an abusive boyfriend, I doubted I would. At least, that’s how I felt until fate had sexy wrangler, Gavin Bishop, reappearing in my life in a way I never expected.

Against my better judgement, I fell hard for the cowboy, believing everything he said, including how he wanted to treat me like a queen and keep me safe. Little did I know, though, that the circumstances that brought us together could also tear us apart…

And possibly claim my life.

Now a peek into the story…

Excerpt for To Be His by C.R. Moss

Smiling, I studied him some more. Every time I looked at his chiseled chest and the strip of hair going in a line from his belly button to a spot hidden by his jeans, my heart fluttered. Sure, I’d seen a lot of him in class, but this was just the two of us.

This was intimate.

I wanted to run my fingers along his skin. Play with the patch of hair. See where my caresses would lead to. I wanted to create with him. I’d felt this way with other boyfriends, even Chad, but never had the urge been so strong. Nor had I been able to gather the courage to do anything about it in the past. Except once. When my relationship with Chad had started imploding, a friend of mine gave me an art kit, one designed to help couples grow closer to each other. I’d shown it to Chad. He’d then called the gift, my idea, and me stupid, telling me I must be an idiot to think he’d be interested in such a “childish, preposterous activity.”

Asking him if he thought my career were those things, as well, spurred on a multi-hour argument that ended with him leaving and not returning for two nights. When he’d finally come home, he’d seemed remorseful and promised to do better by me. He had, too. For a couple of weeks. But we never had used the present.

Now would be a good time to make some new memories surrounding those art supplies.

After all, I seemed to have a very willing participant, who happened to be gorgeous in my opinion, beautifully proportioned in a trim, well-toned way, and desired little ol’ me. Gavin wanted me, had admitted to dreaming and fantasizing about me. Despite my concerns about our ages and how we used to know each other, I realized I felt the same about him.

I hungered for him.

“God, I want to paint you,” the awed words fell from my mouth before I could stop them.

“Thought that’s what we’re doing,” Gavin responded.

Clearing my throat, I jerked my attention from him, went to my paints, and faked looking for one. “Well, yes, but…” Spit it out, girl. Be brave. Have some fun. Gathering my resolve, I continued, “I want to get out a gift a friend of mine had given me a while back. It contains non-toxic paints. This way I can paint you. Use you as both palette and canvas. And, if you’re up for it, you can paint me.”

An impish grin stretched his face. “Sounds interesting. What do we need to do?”

Buy To Be His by C.R. Moss here…

Universal Buy Link | Amazon UK | Print version

About the author…

Author Bio

An eccentric and eclectic writer, C.R. Moss pens stories for the mainstream and erotic romance markets, giving readers a choice of sweet, savory or spicy reads, usually within a sub-genre or two — paranormal, sci-fi/fantasy, time travel, or western flare. She also has a passion for penning dark fiction. Writing as Casey Moss, she delves into the darker aspects of life in her work, sometimes basing the stories on reality, sometimes on myth. No matter the path, her stories will take you on a journey from the lighthearted paranormal to dark things unspeakable. What waits around the corner? Come explore…

Author Links

Blog/Website | Twitter | Instagram | Amazon Author Page | More Gateway Ranch

a look at The Elder Man by Katherine Wyvern #Gay #Fantasy #Romance @KatherineWyvern @evernightpub

Today we have Katherine Wyvern, an amazing artist and wonderful writer, visiting! Welcome, Katherine. 🙂 To see her art relating to her story and learn more about her, be sure to visit the link in the message below that she shared with us.

* Thank you so much for hosting me today with my new release, The Elder Man. This story is very close to my heart, and to my life!
* Over two years ago I made a drawing of my favorite model as an antlered forest god.  It sat quietly in my album for almost 12 months, but it kept pushing invisible roots all over my soul, until suddenly last year, this story began to write itself. It was light and sexy and full of humor (poking fun at city people baffled by the countryside is my revenge for how befuddling the city is to me!) but I soon became aware that there was more to it than met the eye.
* In fact it became a tapestry of all the things I love most in my life, my barely tamed garden and my woods, my animals, my sculpting and natural building, my simple, off grid lifestyle, and the beauty and antiquity of the Dordogne, the region in SW France where I have been living for almost 10 years. I wanted to give a face to the bone-deep magic that I see and feel in all this.
* My forgotten but still powerful forest god is the form I chose to express all that is wondrous, healing and grounding in my life.
* Or maybe *he* chose me, and did his own thing. My characters notoriously tend to do that. I did a number of illustrations, at different times, for this story, and I am delighted that one of them found its way to the cover of the book, thanks to Jay Aheer and Evernight Publishing. You can see them all on my blog, here: https://katherinewyvern.blogspot.com/2020/04/the-art-of-elder-man-coming-tomorrow.html

Blurb

Uncovering and divulging  an outlandish conspiracy will put a hard bump into any journalist’s career, and Armin can only blame himself when he’s dispatched from Frankfurt’s skyscrapers into the depths of rural France on the unglamorous job of writing about a cobbing workshop.
* Natural building is messy, dirty and sweaty work, but it has its consolations. For example, Van, the greying but undeniably hot master cobber teaching the workshop. Sure, the man is a hopeless tree-hugger, with embarrassing notions about ancient folklore and religions, but he’s still worth a week-long fling, right?
* When Van is revealed in all his majesty and power as a long forgotten forest god, however, the week-long fling might well become entangled with eternity, on the edge between life, death, madness, and immortality.

Official Excerpt (PG-13)

It was a recurring human figure, subtly hinted, here and there, never whole, never obvious, always just suggested in the curve of a tree trunk, half hidden in shade, and always crowned with horns or antlers, sometimes real antlers.
* It seemed almost to Armin, once or twice, that Van’s wandering, wavering shadow had antlers of its own. Enough wine, he thought, blinking. What I need is black coffee.
* “Why the antlered man?” he asked over Monica’s voice. The non sequitur took everyone by surprise.
* “Eh?” blared Monica.
* “I beg your pardon?” asked Mark, completely thrown.
* Armin felt suddenly bashful and a little stupid, not to mention rude. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt. It’s just that I keep seeing him everywhere, and I wondered…”
* Edith, Meintje and Ella looked at him quizzically, all three head tilted to one side rather comically. Rebekka looked vaguely around, as if trying to catch the shape that everyone had missed.
* Armin decided he could either explain or let them all think he was stoned, drunk, or tripping, so he pointed with his index finger to the wall. “I am not hallucinating. Look, right there by the window. And there, where the shelf meets the pillar. You can see an arm and a shoulder. And just outside the fireplace, near the table. He pops up all over the sculptures, if you look.”
* Van was smiling. Jean-Pierre harrumphed, frowning, and crossed his arms in front of his chest. Allie shot him a quick apprehensive glance.
* “Why the antlered man? Who is it?” repeated Armin, a little confused, looking at Van.
* Van shrugged. “He’s … Amun, and Silvanus and Pan, and the Leshy and Veles and Svyatibor … even the Minotaur, perhaps. There is a picture of him as old as fifteen thousand years in a cave in the Ariege, la grotte des Trois-Frères. The Sorcerer. Prancing fellow with antlers and a thumping big dong.”
* Every woman in the room, including the young girls, giggled.
* “Van!” said Allie.
* He grimaced theatrically. “Sorry. All these old horned males. What can I say?”
* “Van!”
* “Anyway, some would say he’s the Devil, too, and Baphomet. And lately, just the Horned God. It all got twisted about since the Christians started messing with the old deities. And the Wiccans just made one big stew of it all to cover all the bases and be on the safe side. They may not be wrong however. In France, the Gauls came to call him Cernunnos or Carnonos or Cerunincos, which all simply mean the horned one or the antlered one. I suppose we might go with Cernunnos.”
* He smiled.
* Allie looked at him adoringly. Jean-Pierre scoffed.
* “Wherever you look, there was always a god of the forest, the earth, the water… a god of low places, valleys, sources, meadows. His trees were always small trees. Healing trees. The willow, the elder, the rowan. Not a sky god. Not a war god. He was also, as often as not, a god of agriculture and fertility. And death and healing, even resurrection.  Fall, winter, and spring, the seasons. Nature again. It was easy in the old days to believe in such a divinity. And it was wise to pay tribute to him. Forests, fields, death, rebirth, the cycles and forces of nature were rather more … central.”
* “They still seem central enough in this place,” said Edith, smiling.
* Van bowed.
* “But why the antlers?” asked Josefine. “It seems awfully impractical, even for a forest god.”
* Van gave a wry laugh. “It sure is,” he said. But then he sobered and added, “There has always been something mystical about the stag and his antlers, in all the old Indo-European cultures. The stag was important enough to have his own constellation, roughly where modern astronomers place Ophiuchus. The Celts put it nicely, saying that the stag carried the solar disk in his crown. His antlers and his strength are greatest in the autumn, and they are lost in the winter and emerge again in the spring. He incarnates the death of nature and its awakening. He and Cernunnos are avatars of the fall, of the death of nature and its rebirth. Cycles again.”
* “Is that why he’s sculpted everywhere?” asked Armin. “Do you, like—er—believe? In this… god?”
* Van scratched his graying beard and gave him a roguish grin. “Let’s put it this way. Just on the off chance he’s still walking about in these parts, I’d rather not piss him off. Those olden gods…” He waved a hand and rolled his eyes, and everyone laughed, but Armin held eye contact with him for a moment and had a feeling Van had not spoken completely in jest.

Beautiful drawing, isn’t it? ❤

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Find it on Amazon (free sample available):

Or (with 25% discount and a hot excerpt) at Evernight Publishing: https://www.evernightpublishing.com/the-elder-man-by-katherine-wyvern/