Monday, November 16, 2020

Author Titus Murphy

Black Oak 
The Loveless Chronicles 
Chapter 1 
Titus Murphy 

Genre: Horror, Fantasy
Publication Date: October 31, 2020
Publisher: Cosby Media Production 


In the town of Black Oak, nothing is ever what it seems. Besides the wrangling local country-types, the city is marred by a history of indiscretions, murders, and no-named civilians perpetrating as heroes. But beneath the surface of this "run of the mill," Midwestern locale lurks a pervasive past that is about to come full circle: like a blazing blood moon.

Mark is an unassuming trucker who has fallen for a beautiful clerk working at a “Mom & Pop” store named Sharon, and nothing else in the world matters more than stealing her heart. But after making a run into the Bayou to deliver a package, destiny steps in and serves him a plate of "the unexpected," which sparks the flames of wickedness that will set his hometown ablaze. And as the secrets buried in this town begin to unearth, the truth will fan those burning flames until there is nothing left but ashes and chaos.

In the end, the only mystery left to solve will be if this is isolated to one town or involve the fate of the entire world...

FOREWORD REVIEW: "...full of interesting characters who hold attention...the secrets of their home are a binding force that brings the tale together."

CLARION RATING: 4/5 "In the fantasy novel Black Oak, citizens across two ears reckon with strange creatures among them."

Exclusive Bewitching Excerpt:

“I don’t mean to sound pushy,” Beth started, “but earlier you said that I’m a Dreamer. Tell me more about what that is.”

Zack turned away from Frank, walked over to Beth, and took a seat back at the table next to her. “I’m going to give you the short version,” said Zack, “only because I need to get to the real reason for our visit.”

“Of course,” said Beth.

“So straight to the point, you are a Dreamer, as I said before,” Zack said. “That makes you part witch and part psychic but with an added benefit of being more powerful than both. The main difference between you and normal witches is that you can see into the future without using magic because your psychic side empowers you to do so naturally. And you don’t even need to train this skill. Where other witches fail, you succeed because they don’t have the natural psychic ability you do. They have to use magic to see into the future.”

Beth gawked in amazement at Zack’s words. “So how far into the future can I see?” asked Beth.

Zack shrugged. “To be honest, I don’t know. But what I do know is that the answers you seek can only be found in the grimoire. The grimoire is the most powerful spell book among witches and warlocks. Every spell from growing flowers in your garden to conjuring up lightning is recorded in that book. Every name of every witch and warlock, whether good or bad, down to every war, including the Great War of 1782 is recorded in that book. You can even find spells on how to create magical objects like amulets and talismans.”

“And even the mystical arts of performing magical charms and divination, on summoning or invoking supernatural entities, is also a part of that book,” Zoë chimed.

“Do you know how many supernatural beings would love to get their hands on that book?” Zack added. 

“Where is the book now?” asked Beth.

“Long gone,” Zack said. “It was given to a very powerful witch like yourself to keep safe. She also was a dreamer, the first of your kind, and the only one until now. You are the second, my sister, in our 250 years of traveling on this earth.”

“Only the second?” said Frank. 

“Yes, only the second, and we’ve been everywhere in this world, so that should tell you something. Your wife’s kind is rare.”

 “Well, the question here for you to answer now is, who and where is the first?” asked Beth.

“Her name was Tiara. And she died along time ago,” replied Zack somberly.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Did you know her? I mean were you close with her?” asked Beth.

“Yes…very. She was the one who taught Zoë and me how to use our powers,” said Zack. His eyes beat over to Zoë. “She protected us during and after the Great War. If it wasn’t for her, we would’ve been dead long ago.”

“God, I miss her,” said Zoë, finally speaking up.

“Well, now that you know everything there is to know, keep this in mind. Power is innocent. The one who wields it…” said Zack with a brief pause. He pointed directly at Beth. “Well, that is what taints it. He or she must decide to use it for good or evil. That choice makes a difference.”

“Just remember who you are,” said Zoë, cutting in.

“I will,” said Beth.

“Good, now let’s get to the real reason why we’re here,” said Zack. “After the great battle back in 1782, Jackals and witches all went their separate ways as the town was no longer viable. The fallout of the fight was tremendous; houses were burned to the ground. Bodies were everywhere, and the land was saturated in blood and rotten flesh. The stench was unbearable. It was all a complete mess. So some witches migrated to the east while others went north. Zoë, Tiara, and I headed west. After settling down for a few months, we split up again and went our separate ways. Tiara told us she was going on a journey to find someone very important and that she would be back in approximately one year.”

“If you don’t mind me asking,” said Beth, “why didn’t you two go with her?”

“We wanted to, but she forbade it. She insisted that we remain behind and give aid to any stragglers that needed assistance,” said Zoë.

“Yes, she did,” said Zack as he nodded in agreement. “There is not a day that goes by that I don’t live with the regret of my decision that day.”

“So what happened to Tiara?” asked Frank.

“We never saw her again,” said Zack, his voice raspy and soft. “But anyway, after 30 years away from Black Oak, we had grown very powerful, teaching ourselves the ways of mysticism and sorcery. And then one day in the fall of 1812, Zoë and I felt something: a surge of power we’d not yet experienced before. Not since the Great War. It was all in the air, calling out to us. So we packed our things and followed the surge to its source until it led us back here to our original home of Black Oak.” Zack took a moment to smile as Zoë placed a gentle hand over his. “I could see the town in the distance and, as Zoë and I approached, we started preparing ourselves for a fight because we didn’t know who or what was living there. But the closer we got, our minds began to calm. The visions before us were heartwarming. People were everywhere. Families and friends were bustling about. The town was good as new. It was like nothing ever happened and the magic we felt there was good and pure and untouched by evil.”

“You could sense it,” said Zoë.

“And now it’s happening again, but only this time, the magic feels different. It’s evil for sure, I know it,” said Zack.

“How can you tell?” asked Beth.

“Answer one question for me,” said Zack, staring intently at Beth.

“Okay,” she replied.

“What did you sense from my sister and me when you first opened your door?” asked Zack.

“Good. I felt good in both of you,” said Beth. “Nothing bad…not even a little bit.”

“And I too felt the same thing when I saw you. And I’m not talking only about tonight,” said Zack. “But what I feel in this town now is wicked. Mark my words. Something is coming. What’s more, is that something is already here. And that should be impossible. Do you know why?” asked Zack as he stared at both Frank and Beth for an answer. 

They were both speechless, but Beth took a stab at it anyway. “There’s some special magic protecting us?”

“Yes. A force field—placed over this town hundreds of years ago by the witches, that was supposed to stop dangerous beasts or any other supernatural creatures from passing through,” said Zoë. 

“But I’m afraid the force field failed against whatever forced its way in. Now Zoë and I need to find out who or what it is before someone gets hurt or maybe worse…killed.”

“Killed?” Beth inquired.

“Yes. On the way over here, we came across a sea of dead bodies in the woods. Most likely campers who were mauled to death, and it looked like the work of Riffs,” said Zoë nonchalantly.

About the Author:

Titus Murphy was born and raised on the streets of New Orleans, Louisiana.  From a small child, there was an overarching desire for Titus to do one thing: win. His drive and determination drove him to succeed. Armed with a strong mind, a quick wit, and a sharp tongue, he set out to emblaze his mark on everyone he would encounter. Unknown to him were the overwhelming obstacles and seemingly insurmountable tragedy he would have to endure. From this devastation came a resolve fueled by an uncompromising commitment that resonates through every aspect of his life. Forced from the city he knew and loved, Titus relocated to Atlanta, Georgia. It was there his desire and commitment came together resolutely to birth a dream that had long been held in his heart. Oblivious to detraction, and beyond all doubt, Titus would become an author. From the streets of New Orleans that marked his life, to the ink-graced pages upon which he now pours his soul, Titus Murphy has come to show the world that he is truly…something more. 

Wednesday, November 11, 2020

Author Mariah Lynne

Author Mariah Lynne

With DNA tests and family research so popular, there’s nothing better than to literally walk in the footsteps of your ancestors. My husband’s father escaped the Armenian genocide at five years of age, his family fleeing to France before acquiring safe passage to the US. Because of that, visiting Armenia was our most noteworthy trip.

A few years back, we visited The Mormon Family Research Center in Salt Lake City Utah. We were happy to learn about each of our parents’ past. We’ve been to Italy but never in our wildest dreams did we ever think we would visit Armenia. It felt so far away from Florida and it was: sixteen hours not counting connections and two flights from Miami.

Armenia is a modern thriving country especially in its capital city of Yerevan, but it is older than Egypt. Archeologists discovered a cave named Arena-1 containing 6000 year old wine making jugs along with an ancient shoe. It was home to Mt Ararat, home of Noah’s Ark, which is now part of Turkey. I recently read on “Armenian Fact of the Day” that St Nicholas, yes that St. Nick - “Santa Claus”, was born in 280 AD to wealthy parents in Antalya Turkey and his mother was of Armenian descent!

Throughout our fifteen day visit, we met so many kind and wonderful people. In the city Gyumri, devastated in the 1988 earthquake, I sat at an outdoor cafe having a cold drink with a couple on our tour from California. The husband, a college professor, was knowledgeable and fluent in the Armenian language as well as the country’s history. An elderly lady carrying a basket of sunflower seeds with a clear glass shot glass in its center walked over and sat down with us. I could see by her clothes and shoes, she was poor. The woman looked at me and told us, she wasn’t a beggar. She refused to ask for money but instead offered to sell shot glasses full of her seeds for whatever you wanted to pay. She said the money would help her family members, many of whom were out of work.

She leaned over and touched my hand speaking to me in Armenian. The professor translated. “She wishes you good health and a long and happy marriage.” The professor who had met her on a previous trip told me that locals said that if she made a wish for you, it would come true. For some peculiar reason, she only gave her wishes to me. When it came time to leave, she followed me to the bus and waved. What a sweetheart.

In the artist colony of Dilljan, a spa town often called Armenia’s Switzerland, I walked into the studio of a wood carver who carried on his family tradition. He showed me photos of ornaments he had carved for the White House Christmas tree twenty years ago. His work was intricate even on his larger pieces. You know I had to buy a carved egg to hang on my tree.

Many of the country’s modern celebrations like New Year’s take their roots from the ancient Persians. Ancient Armenians celebrated New Year’s on the 21st of March the birthday of the pagan god God Vahan preparing huge feasts to welcome and celebrate the rebirth of nature. If you have any Armenian relatives or friends, every family meal is a feast. One of the most ancient peoples of the world who respect their traditions, March 21st remained New Year’s until the 18th century, when it was changed to Jan 1st.

New Year’s remained the symbol of renewal and the rethinking the past. It is a time to begin again, to think over your mistakes to leave all the bad things in the old year and look forward to the new.

On the first day of the year, the head of the family gives gifts to every family member as was done thousands of years ago while children hung hand knitted socks on the yerdik a type of chimney, hoping their stockings would be filled on New Year’s Eve. The New Year’s table is bountiful and symbolized hope for a good year. Women baked a coin inside homemade wheat bread before dividing it into several parts as family hurried to find the coin that would give them luck in the year to follow.

We were at lunch in the Ruben School for Young Artists and cake was served for desert. One of the pieces of cake had a coin baked inside. The finder would have good luck for the next year. No one in our group found it but luckily our wonderful bus driver took a piece home to his kids and they found it.

We saw so many wonderful sights like Gerhard Monastery, a UNESCO World Heritage site carved out of the side of a mountain, the History Museum that traced the country’s origin from ancient Persia to the present, wineries, bakeries, and farms. We visited the last remaining pagan temple of Garni. We celebrated their independence day complete with fireworks and street performers. We were feted at a carpet company eating among the gorgeous and expensive Oriental rugs while enjoying a show of traditional dancing and music. We visited the Genocide memorial, and the National Theater of state folk dancing and song. We survived the world’s longest cable car ride, the Wings of Tatev. Armenia is full of life, history, and, for us, making wonderful memories as we learned about my husband’s heritage.


Author/pen name: Mariah Lynne

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Publisher: Satin Romance- a division of Melange Books,LLC

Date of Publication: November 3, 2020


ISBN: 978-1-953735-03-04 print

978-1-953735-04-1 e-book

Number of pages: 141

Word Count: 46,000 words


It’s the Holidays and Jessica Munroe seems destined for misery. Nonetheless she is trying to make the best of it. Her fiancé Jake, an emergency room doctor, dumped her for his nurse and just two weeks prior, she had to put her dog, her best friend, Mazy to sleep.

The pain of losing both the man she loved and her best friend has taken her to a new low. Jessica, determined not to stay down, is now hard at work trying to push through the holiday season by doubling up on Christmas lights and decorations she’s putting up outside her residence.

As Jessica works, a big brown scruffy dog appears in her yard and refuses to leave when she tries to shoo him away. He’s filthy, looks hungry, and seems like he needs help. A dog lover, Jessica takes him to her vet who discovers a metal bone shaped tag buried in his matted fur. The tag reveals his name, Sam, and a phone number to call if he is lost or injured.

Sam’s owner Trey Musgrove is in the hospital the victim of a head-on collision. Now Jessica’s life is about to change forever thanks to Sam, this big brown scruffy lovable dog.

Side effects of reading PAWS FOR CHRISTMAS are a happy heart, an uplifted spirit, new confidence in the future, and a smile on your face!


Buy links: 

Amazon Books & Audiobooks

Apple Books & Audiobooks


Mariah Lynne Website


Twitter @MariahLynne1




I arrived at Healthwell, picked up my pre-arranged

visitor’s badge, and headed directly to the sixth floor. I was so

curious about him I couldn’t get there fast enough. Starra was

on duty at the nurse’s station. Her face lit up like the shooting

stars that influenced her name when she saw me. She called

out, “Jess, please hurry. I told Trey you were coming. He’s

anxious to meet you. Please follow me.”

Starra walked briskly. I followed her pace into his room.

Since I studied that photo online so many times, I felt like I

already knew him. My heart pounded when I noticed the

curtain surrounding his hospital bed was half closed. Starra

walked us around to where he could see us, and we could see

him before introducing me.

“Trey Musgrove, this is Jessica Munroe. She’s the young

woman who sent you the note about Sam.”

Trey’s gaze was turned away from me as he drank water

from a straw held by another nurse. When he turned to face

me, his blue eyes took mine hostage. My body trembled from

his stare. It was as if we had known each other for a long

time. He looked a bit paler and thinner than in that photo but

still incredibly handsome. There should be a law against being

that handsome. His kind blue eyes looked tired and he

appeared weak like Jake said because he might have

“atrophied muscles.”

I remained quiet to let him speak first. He looked at me,

well, really stared at me. I wondered if my holiday outfit was

over the top. He spoke as I held up my holiday cookie bag.

“Jessica, I appreciate your visit and for taking such good

care of my Sam. I can’t tell you how relieved I felt after

reading your note since I feared the worst after no one found

him near the accident scene. I can tell by looking at you that’s

he’s a very lucky dog.”

Author bio:

Mariah Lynne takes readers on breathtaking adventures. Whether travelling through time, solving a crime, or finding love in unlikely situations, her heroines are strong willed independent women whose memorable stories keep the pages turning.

A graduate of Syracuse University, Mariah resides on a beautiful Florida Gulf Coast island, Ft. Myers Beach. Because she loves where she lives, Southwest Florida becomes the backdrop for all of her stories. Before writing fiction, she owned a business on the Beach and wrote weekly columns for two island newspapers.

Mariah is a member of Romance Writers of America and Southwest Florida Romance Writers where she served as Membership Chairman for five years. An animal lover, she served three years on the board of directors for a county wide no-kill animal shelter, The Animal Refuge Center and was honored to be selected Parade Marshall for the annual Shrimp Festival Parade 2010.

Her books include PAWS for CHRISTMAS coming this October, THE DUCHESS’ NECKLACE, SHADOWS ACROSS TIME, and THE LOVE GYPSY also available as an audio book. Her short stories “Love at First Flight” and “The Kaine Mutiny” are published in Vols. 1 and 2 of FROM FLORIDA WITH LOVE, while “Claws for Justice” is included in NINE DEADLY LIVES a mystery anthology featuring cats. Her very first book, SEABLISS, a cozy island mystery now out of print will be re-released as an e-book and in print December 2020.

When not writing, Mariah, a former video retailer, enjoys watching movies, travelling having recently been stranded because of the pandemic in Australia, swimming, and spending time with her husband Jerry. She still misses her amazing dolphin hunting dog Max, a shelter adoptee.

Tuesday, November 3, 2020

Author Elexis Bell

A Heart of Salt and Silver
Elexis Bell

Genre: Dark supernatural high fantasy romance

Date of Publication: 11/3/2020

Cover Artist: Elexis Bell 

Tagline: With eternity on the line, is love worth the risk?

Book Description: 

Ness, a demi-demon with a conscience, just wanted a peaceful afternoon in the Forest of Immortals. But Elias, a reckless mortal, went and spoiled it. Not that he wanted to be chased by psychotic vampires.

After saving his life, Ness agrees to help him find his estranged father and his Pack. But that means facing Nolan, the werewolf ex that holds her heart.

Now, Ness must decide. Use Elias to forget Nolan at the cost of his soul or crawl back to her ex and hope he still wants her even though she broke his heart.

But in a world sprinkled with immortals, broken hearts might be the least of their worries.

Fans of gritty fiction, compelling romance, and imaginative takes on magic and the afterlife will love this dark supernatural high fantasy romance.

Excerpt 1:

“Unhand us, witch!” the vampire shouts.

The mortals, apparently far smarter than this vampire, remain silent. Even the vampire’s own pledge seals his lips shut. A wave of Nether wafts off him, marking him as a Nether witch.

But fury sparks within me, and a dark grin overtakes me. I lower my arm, setting the blades down gently in the middle of the clearing.

“What was that?” I ask, daring the vampire to repeat himself.

Stupidly enough, he does. “I said, ‘unhand us, witch!’ Let us go quickly, and I might not kill you.”

Arrogant fool.

I laugh quietly, and all the birds fly away, deserting their treetop perches. A dangerous glint shines in my eyes as I saunter within arm’s reach.

“Witch? You think me a witch?”

“How else could a pitiful, puny little woman like you do all this?” He jerks his head at the other two men, unable to move his arms. Cheeks flushed with anger, he draws back and spits in my face, dark eyes flashing, all the while.

Nearby animals sense my anger reverberating on the Nether, and the woods fall completely silent. Fury roils within me, and visions of blood fill my mind. Everything in me demands his evisceration.

Or perhaps the removal of some limbs…

With eyes narrowed, I lift one hand. He flinches, and I smile, baring my teeth. His spit floats into the air, leaping happily from my skin. My spine shivers with disgust and hatred as I force the spit to smear itself over the vampire’s face, over his eyes.

Slowly twirling one finger, I tighten his bonds. Air rushes from his lungs, and his soft face goes red as he struggles to breathe.

“You underestimate me. I don’t know a single witch who can do everything I’ve done without at least three days of spell and potion preparation. Not to mention the difficulty of lugging all those ingredients out here.”

Lifting one average looking fingernail to his face, I trace one of his cheekbones, then the other, splitting the skin wide. A line drawn down the center of his nose, from bridge to tip, releases still more blood.

My eyes flutter as the darkest parts of me savor the sight.

“As for spitting on me,” I whisper, knowing my voice will carry to the others, echoing in their bones despite its low volume, “that was a grave mistake. Most of my kind would have killed you on the spot, simply for the disturbance.”

Voice suddenly a hiss, I say, “You’re lucky I’ve learned patience.”

My soul riots for revenge, and my blood boils in my veins. I fight the damnable words, hating my own weakness before my rage, but still, I say, “But ignorance must not go to seed. Your family line will end with you. You will never again create, or prolong, life.”

And I shift the Nether to make it so.

“Your kind? What are you talking about? What makes you think you can curse me?” All bluff and bluster, the vampire tries to appear brave and defiant.

But I feel the fear leaking off him. I smell it in his blood, acrid and spoiled. I hear it in his sputtering heartbeat, slightly more erratic than those of the others.

Again, I say nothing. Drawing a deep breath, I close my eyes slowly.

Thunder roars through the clearing, rumbling in all our chests. I open my eyes, glittering gold sending light reflecting back at the vampire, and my skin grows paler. Fingernails become golden talons, embedded in black skin which reveals hues of purple as it fades to white just above my wrist. My eyelids are colored similarly, pulsing with the Nether that reaches out through my skin.

Black horns burst from my skull, sticking through locks of deepest red. My horns twist as they taper off, curling back over the top of my head.

The color drains from the vampire’s face, concealed as it is by his blood. Sick glee spikes through me.

“Did you know you would feel my revelation in your blood? Did you know the very air would tremble with it?” I ask, knowing the answer to be a resounding “no.”

“You’re a…” he trails off, unable to speak for lack of air.

“Demi-demon is, I believe, the word you’re looking for,” I say, smiling malevolently. “Now, I’m going to untether you, and you’re going to run. Before I change my mind.”

About the Author: 

Elexis Bell is a quiet nerd with too many hobbies, including everything from gaming to shower-singing and even archery, weather permitting. She specializes in sarcasm and writing stories that make people feel. She's made a home for herself with her husband, their dog, and a small army of cats.

She writes dark, gritty stories, sprinkling gut-wrenching emotions over high fantasy romance, thrillers, post-apocalyptic romance, and science fiction.

For further information, follow her on Instagram, Twitter, or Facebook, or check out her blog on her website.











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