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Saturday, September 19, 2026

September Blues

 



I’m a summer person. Every year, right after the Christmas celebrations, I start looking forward to the end of winter and the start of spring. It’s much nicer to be outside when it’s warm and the first leaves begin to unfold. I enjoy working in my garden, clearing away the remains of winter, raking the dead leaves, and watching nature come alive again.

Then comes the best time. When it’s warmer, you can take longer rides through the woods. There are fewer insects, so they won't bother you or the horse. I enjoy the long daylight and warmth during summer. I don’t mind the heat either. You can relax in the sun, read a good book, or ride your bike along the river. It’s a great time!

I dread the end of August, when the nights grow cold and the days are no longer warm. My horse doesn't mind though — he’s got fur! LOL! I get the blues in September, knowing that summer is over and fall will bring gusty winds, rain, and fewer hours of sunshine. It’s time to harvest the last apples in my garden and prepare for winter. The outlook is never pretty: cold days and cold nights. I leave for work in the dark and return home after dark. It's a good time to stay home, write, or read a good book to distract myself from the nasty outside world.

Most of my books were written during the darker half of the year. Here, I present an excerpt from the final installment of my Bodyguard series featuring Jazmin and Ethan.

In this final adventure, Jazmin and Ethan face different fates, separated from each other. They must both solve the riddles that circumstances throw at them, and neither knows how the other is faring. While Ethan protects the Secretary of State, Jazmin must partner with a wounded CIA agent who escorts her from a bombing site to a safe house. There, she has to take care of him.

 

A Bodyguard in Bolivia

Excerpt

Marcus looked at her with pain in his eyes. He hadn’t changed his position on the rug in the bathroom and looked even paler than before.

She knelt beside him. “Hey, welcome back.”

“Did you run some knives through my body?”

“Yes, but only blunt ones. How do you feel?”

“Shitty. Like fucked and stepped on by some heavyweight vin-Diesel-type.” He swallowed. Briefly, a smile broke through as he looked at the sweatpants and T-shirt she had borrowed from his cupboard. “Nice wardrobe. It appears we’ve got the same outfitter.”

“Your blood ruined my Gucci two-piece. Can you get up?”

“It’s nice and warm here.” He begged with his eyes. “I always wanted to spend time on a rug. I’ve never done that before.”

In spite of her worries, Jazmin was touched. “I’ll help you up. It’s better for you to lie in a bed than on the floor, don’t you think? Come on,” she insisted when he didn’t move. “You made it this far. You’ll make the three steps to the bedroom, too.” She took away the blanket.

Marcus gasped when he tried to push off the ground one-handed. “Fuck! That’s not gonna work.”

“I said I’d help. God, you’re one stubborn mule.” Jazmin grabbed his upper arm. “Get on your knees, then slowly onto your feet. I’ll steady you.”

“That hurts, too.”

“You have a cut on your thigh. I stitched you up.”

“And took away my pants, too? That’s what I call thorough.”

“Shut up and move!”

Swearing under his breath, Marcus got to his feet, his head hanging, and panted like a runner. He leant heavily on her, but shuffled into the bedroom, biting his lips. “Home, sweet home.”

“Have you always been a sarcastic idiot?” Jazmin asked.

He sat on the bed and she arranged the pillows for him to lean against. When he strained to inch backward, she lifted his legs on the mattress, then glanced at his face and saw his grin.

“I’ve been an idiot until the day of my promotion to sarcastic idiot. But thanks for the praise.”

Jazmin lowered her chin, smiling in spite of the situation. She felt caught in an absurd scene from a Jim Jarmusch movie, where tragic and comedy walked side by side.

“It’s a good sign you aren’t slapping my idiotic face again.”

Jazmin shook her head. “I didn’t want you to collapse.”

“Not so soon. Anyway.” Marcus touched her hand gently, and she felt him shiver. “Of all the deep-in-shit things that happened today—I can’t say how happy I am you helped me out.”

“You saved my life.” Her voice was small, and the terror of the tragedy hit her with might and main. “My life, but…” She turned away and wept, her face hidden behind her hands and shoulders heaving.

“Jazmin…”

“I…I’ll get you the blanket.” She fled the room, only to stop in the corridor, blind with tears and shaken by fear. She knew nothing about the incidents at the conference building, nothing about the fate of the others, and nothing about the man in the bedroom. In all the tragedy of the day, he could be the one pulling the strings behind the bombing.

·         * * *

 

It was an editor’s choice book in the month of its release

http://www.extasybooks.com/editors-choice/?utm_source=MadMimi&utm_medium=email&utm_content=Great+deals%2C+Giveaways+and+more%21&utm_campaign=20180721_m146351109_New+releases+from+Zenina+Masters%2C+Charlie+Richards%2C+Giveaways+and+MORE%21&utm_term=eXtasy+Books+Editor_27s+Choice+Books_21

 

visit my website www.annraina.com

 

I’m on Instagram ann_raina_author

 

 

Friday, September 18, 2026

A Really BIG Day!

October 1 is the big reveal. I'm under a cone of silence about everything until then, and all I can tell you is this about a new bundle of books releasing:

GRITTY

DARK

DUBCON

BAD GUYS WITH A SOFT HEART

CHRISTMAS ROMANCE

OPEN DOOR 

EXPLICIT

Need I go on? My newsletter will have it all on Oct 1 so if you haven't signed up for it yet, do it now and you won't miss out on the reveal. It's yummy, steamy and edge of your seat.

Sign up here and receive a free read. Shana's Newsletter link





Wednesday, September 16, 2026

Looking for inspiration or a romantic setting? How about an abandoned French manor?

What’s the difference between a manor and a château? And what is a logis? A château, usually built after the 12th century, was a fortified residence that served as an administrative and judicial centre. Its thick stone walls were punctuated by towers, arrow slits, battlements, and all was protected by moats and drawbridges. Manor houses were more recent constructions. Built between the 15th and 17th centuries, unlike châteaux, they didn’t dominate the landscape but blended into it. With no defensive purpose, they were aesthetically pleasing and designed for the comfort of the lesser nobles who inhabited them and used their large reception rooms for parties and hunt gatherings. A manor was also a working farm, and was surrounded by barns, stables, worker’s cottages, a wine or cider press, and a dovecote for raising pigeons — once a seigneurial privilege. Less well known are the logis. Lacking the ostentatious features of a château and the agricultural buildings of a manor, they were the residences of lesser nobles and untitled wealthy burghers. Like manors, logis are recognizable by their lovely but understated façades, their mullioned windows, and internal spiral staircases. Some châteaux, manors and logis have been carefully restored; others are partially or totally abandoned; this is the fate of the manor of Aigrefoin. Set on the hill dominating the river valley and village where I live, Aigrefoin was built during the second half of the 15th century. It is a beautiful building, despite its neglected state. Above its granite doorway is an ogee arch with a now illegible coat of arms. The great hall on the ground floor has terracotta tiles, exposed beams, a large mullioned window, and an imposing fireplace. Behind, a granite spiral staircase housed in a tower leads to two more great halls on the second floor. Higher up, near the door to the attic, a small window not only provided light for the stairwell, but allowed the lord of the manor to survey the main east-west road far below and prepare for the arrival of visitors, or monitor the movements of roving robber and beggar bands.
Who lived in Aigrefoin? No stories have been passed down, and only a few names remain: in 1758 it belonged to Guillaume Le Duc de la Pironnaie and his wife, Louise Hamon, before being passed on to Urbain Besnier and his wife Anne Le Duc. In 1871, during the Franco-Prussian War, the manor and barns were requisitioned by Admiral Jauréguiberry — the battle of Saint-Jean took place less than a kilometre away. During WWII, this manor — like other manors, castles and logis —was probably occupied by officers of the Wehrmacht. By the time I first saw Aigrefoin in 1996, it had come down in the world. Its great hall was being used for furniture storage by a peasant family that lived in the adjoining foreman’s cottage. Then, twenty years ago, Aigrefoin was sold. The company that bought it planned to turn the surrounding fields into Equiland (an unfortunate name that smacks of Disneyland) an upscale subdivision for well-off families with horses; the lovely manor would be “renovated” into a modern clubhouse. Fortunately, that grim fate was avoided. The tasteless subdivision was never created — there are no bridle paths here, and the modern east-west road is busy and dangerous. The acquiring company vanished into thin air; the manor was left to languish. How long before it falls into complete ruin?
JIll (J.Arlene) Culiner writes Romance, Women's Fiction and more https://www.j-arleneculiner.com

Sunday, September 13, 2026

The Bear Goddess: Gods, Monsters and Forbidden Desire

 



Nymphs and centaurs collide in an epic war of gods, monsters, and forbidden desire.
(A standalone dark fantasy romance in the Arcadia series.)

 Callisto is the nymph who betrayed Artemis. This is her story.


Callisto, the daughter of the great Arcadian King Lycaon and the nymph Maia, has taken a sacred vow of purity, forsaking all others for Artemis, and attains the revered position of Bear Goddess among the nymphs. When she meets Kasin, a follower of Zeus and her sworn enemy, her life is shattered.

Kasin is a centaur prince and one of few who can take human shape. Despite having sworn allegiance to Zeus, he saves the life of one of Artemis’s nymphs. He is torn between his love for Callisto and his duty to his people and his god.

Danger and betrayal follow Kasin and Callisto after their secret, forbidden connection is exposed. To survive, they must evade a god obsessed with having Callisto for himself, as well as others who also want to keep them apart. With a devastating war looming between the centaurs and the nymphs, Callisto must make a difficult choice. To prevent bloodshed and to save an innocent life, she must die.

 

Game of Thrones meets the Iliad with more warrior women and Greek mythology with a twist. An epic ancient historical, enemies to lovers romantasy with centaurs and nymphs that rivals Outlander.

 

Feel the passion and angst of forbidden love.

Excerpt:

Everything had happened so fast—being caught with Kasin, being bound with silver, Kasin changing into a centaur—Callisto hadn’t had time to absorb the shock of discovering the man she loved was a centaur. Weakened by the silver chain still binding her hands, she couldn’t escape. All she could do was lay helpless in his arms while he galloped with her off into the night.

He came to an abrupt halt at the edge of a steep plateau, searching the darkened forest lit by faint beams of moonlight. The fierce set of his handsome face made her breath catch in her throat. His arms held her in a confident, strong grip. With some hesitancy, she admitted to herself that she found him exciting. He was a centaur, her enemy who she was supposed to hate, but he had never mistreated her and he saved her life once again. She could only stare at him, stunned.

Review Quote:

“I greatly admire Ms. Heckart’s knowledge of Greek mythology and the way she weaves it into her fictional world along with the paranormal. Her characters are deeply drawn and engaging, and the plots are fast-paced and draw the reader in on page one.”

Rochelle Weber, Roses & Thorns Reviews



Enter a world of enchantment and passion.






Saturday, September 12, 2026

Surrendering to the Beast - Erotic Paranormal RomCom - Erotic Play - Sexy Spells -Tina Donahue Monthly Newsmagazine #TinaDonahueBooks #EroticRomance #ParanormalRomance #RomCom #Giveaways #EyeCandy

 



SURRENDERING TO THE BEAST
Erotic Paranormal Rom-Com
Book Two - Taming the Beast



When she's good, she's very good...


But when he's bad, she's better.


A Bad Boy to Die for

and a Good Girl Who Longs to be Bad


Good Fairy

Bad Boy Satyr with Lust on his Mind

Erotic Play

Sexy Spells

Cast Includes a Sexy Genie Who Knows

How to Get Down & Dirty


When she’s good, she’s very good—but when he’s bad, she’s better…

It’s definitely not business as usual at From Crud to Stud, a makeover service for supernatural beings. Dare we say it? Receptionist Heather—a good fairy with a pure heart, mind and body—is on the fast track to exquisite corruption with Daemon, a satyr.

Sex has never been this good or adventurous. Half-man, all beast, Daemon’s the ultimate bad boy, a follower of the god of wine and a good time. Before, during and after his makeover to look fully human, he intends to put some color into Heather’s pale cheeks.

She’s one conflicted but turned-on babe. Especially as Mistress Jin, a genie Daemon commands, agrees to show Heather how to cut loose. Under the mistress’s tutelage and Daemon’s shameless lust, Heather’s gonna find out what love and having fun is all about.

Warning:

Not your typical bedtime story. May lead to indecent behavior, a taste for voyeurism, discipline and bondage, which will result in screaming orgasms. Proceed with caution.




PRAISE FOR SURRENDERING TO THE BEAST


"Tempting the Good Fairy"
You will Love, Love this quirky, funny, and sweet unique book and series! The story line will win your heart. The characters are amazing. This is such a fun to read book and series!
- Roxie, Amazon
"Surrendering to the Beast"
Taming the Beast series is a unique series featuring all different kinds of paranormal beings. From Crud to Stud is a very unique concept too! All together it makes for a very lively and entertaining read!
- deb1210, Amazon

TEASERS













Excerpt:

      Heather pressed her hand to her chest. She’d expected to see his socks, maybe even his bare feet, not hooves. “You’re not mortal.”

“No kidding.” He puffed out another breath. “That’s why I’m here.” He gestured to the reception area stuffed with potted plants and feathery ferns. The greenery made the coral walls seem even warmer in comparison. Faux-gas fixtures provided a dated, romantic feel, like old New Orleans.

Loud hisses and teeth snapping filled the hall.

He arched one dark eyebrow and raked his gaze over her.

Perspiration rolled down her back and between her breasts.

Pleasure sparkled in his beautiful eyes. “I take it I’m in the right place for a makeover?”

Few beings had deeper voices than his. Awe blossomed within her. A pleasant feeling. Her nipples tightened. She liked that, too, when she shouldn’t have. Given the huge bulge behind his fly, she guessed what he was. “You’re a satyr, right?”

“That’s me. Wine, women and song.” He winked.

A zombie moaned.

He looked over. “Speaking of song, you should get a sound system in here. Drown out those crappy noises with some down-and-dirty heavy metal. You like Behemoth? Their Lucifer kicks serious ass.”

His bulge got bigger, the folds between her legs damper. Fighting dizziness, Heather plodded to her computer, mystified as to why he had such an enticing effect on her when other guys had only sparked panic. Satyrs were charming, sure, and natural seducers. They had to be, considering all they thought about and wanted was sex. However, they didn’t have the power to turn a good fairy against her ingrained principles. At least, she didn’t think they could. “Do you have an appointment, Mister…”

“No Mister, just Daemon. Nope on the appointment, too. I’m hoping you can fit me in. What are you?”

Heather stopped keying. “The receptionist.”

He laughed with pleasure, not derision.

The deep, virile sound rushed straight past her bones and into her marrow. Her belly fluttered.

“I mean what kind of being are you? No, wait. Let me guess.” He tapped his forefinger against his bristly jaw.

He wore an ornate silver ring with a large black stone on his right middle finger. His hands were big and rugged rather than frightening.

Heather wasn’t certain why, but she saw good strength in them, the sort that cherished and made mortal women sigh in appreciation.

She might have whimpered in delight, but didn’t have enough breath.

He made a frustrated sound. “You’re either an elf or a fairy. Damn, I can never tell those two beings apart.”

That hurt deep. Fairies and elves weren’t similar at all. No different from mistaking a satyr for a centaur. Despite his rude comment, she couldn’t be surly or sarcastic. “I’m a good fairy.”

“That explains all the white you’re wearing.” He gestured to her peasant blouse, gypsy skirt and ballet flats.

An outfit she’d bought at Macy’s, not a uniform store for fairies. Heather knew she wasn’t cool like the babes he probably knew and had been intimate with, but he didn’t have to make her feel like a total loser. Embarrassed, she lowered her face. “I like the color. It suits me.”

“Hey, I’m not arguing.” He held out his hands in surrender. “I’m all about pleasing the ladies.” He grinned.

His teeth were white and straight, his smile raffish yet charming.

Heather shook off her arousal. “I’m sure you are and you haven’t.” She hit the computer keys harder than usual and checked the appointment book. “Zoe can see to you in twenty minutes.” Zoe, another BFF, was a reformed demon who knew how to keep guys from getting too frisky. “Please grab your boots and follow me.”

He clopped after her and stopped abruptly to read the business name and its motto, Suppressing the Beast, painted on the wall. He shook his head. “Damn shame what we guys have to go through now to snag the babes.”

“You mean mortal women.” His biceps were beyond awesome, beefy and firm. Prominent veins coursed down them. “I understand nymphs are still into satyrs.”

“True, but I want to try the other side.” He planted one hand on his flat belly and swiveled his hips. 



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Friday, September 11, 2026

Heading into “wish for” season

When I was growing up, we never bought anything that could be considered a gift unless we were hiding it away for Christmas. If you saw a scarf in a store window, you might hint at it to friends or family but you didn’t buy it lest Santa have it in mind for you. Necessities had to be purchased, of course, but nothing frivolous or extraneous. If your friends or family didn’t take the hint, well, you hoped the item you lusted after was on sale in January. So, starting in September, we began the season of wishing. It seems fitting then that Your Desire is the featured book for this month.

Wishing you all the joy of the upcoming holidays—the months will fly by!—and that you receive your desire!


Blurb:
Your Desire. A mysterious shop appears in town for one reason: to bring the spice of passion and the thrill of love to one special person. Magic is in more than the item purchased—it’s in the heart of the buyer, often hidden, usually surprising. And after enchantment takes hold and the fantasy is fulfilled? The store fades from sight and memory, only to reappear somewhere else. Maybe in your town…?

Buy links:
Amazon KU: https://www.amazon.com/Your-Desire-Dee-S-Knight-ebook/dp/B085HFRSQ9

Amazon print: https://www.amazon.com/Your-Desire-Dee-S-Knight/dp/1734761016 


Excerpt:
“Where is the damn doctor?” His truculent tone was understandable but wearying just the same, after an hour of waiting for test results.

A fair portion of that time he’d spent talking via cell phone to someone named David. That’s all she’d heard of the conversations, except Frank’s tone, which was commanding. He was definitely a man used to giving orders.

Evidently David could also give a few. When she’d checked at the desk to ask what else needed to be done in the way of paperwork for admission, the clerk had told her everything was being handled. Not only had the tedious forms been taken care of and insurance approved, the X-ray and MRI results were being sent to Frank’s doctor’s computer in Washington so he could consult on treatment.

“The doctor will be here as soon as he knows something.” She gave him her best grim nurse’s look before remembering he couldn’t see her expression. Instead she patted his hand as though he were a child. “Stop being a baby. Everything that can be done is being done.”

Three different doctors had examined him in the time they’d been at the hospital, coming in, saying as little as possible, then leaving with a “Hmm.” She knew it was the lack of information that grated on Frank’s nerves more than anything else.

While the doctors checked him over, she’d examined him herself, with as little notice as possible. He was as handsome as any man she’d ever seen, but in a rugged way, contrary to the citified, expensive clothes he wore. There was a bump at the top of his nose indicating at least one break. Long luxurious lashes swept down and up each time he blinked, hiding then revealing beautiful hazel eyes. He was tall and very fit, muscled without an ounce of fat. Brown hair, nicely trimmed, sparkled with good health and care. In the bright glare of ER lights, his face didn’t look nearly so sharply angled as she’d thought earlier, but the stubble from a day’s growth of beard made him look dark and rough.

“Tell you what. Why don’t I go and get you some ice? You shouldn’t have anything to eat, but a little ice will be all right.”

“Ice?” He said it as though he couldn’t believe anyone in their right mind would suggest such a thing, but in the end he agreed.

Ten minutes later, she approached his cubicle with a cup filled with shaved ice. Weariness dragged at her with every step, and she could hardly wait until Frank was admitted so she could go home.

“Here comes Allison now. We’ll ask her.” His voice was loud enough to be heard throughout the ER. She slipped through the opening to see Frank sitting on the edge of the bed. Walter Neeley, the ophthalmologist, stood in front of him. Mike stood apart, his arms crossed over the metal cover of the hospital chart held tightly against his chest. His face was serious but a look of mischievous glee colored his eyes as he observed the verbal sparring between the two men. Beside him stood Richard Matthews, head of neurology, who nodded a greeting to her.

“Ask Allison what?” She knew she’d have to referee something, based on the bull-headed expressions of both doctor and patient. Frank and Walt had already turned toward the opening in the curtains when she slipped in. This damn noisy dress.

“I want to hold Mr. Hughes overnight. He refuses. Says he’ll be all right at your house.” Walt Neeley arched a brow at her. “As he’s your friend, perhaps you can convince him that it’s in his own best interests to be admitted for the night.”

Unconsciously, she moved to stand beside Frank, touching his hand to let him know she was there. His head followed her every movement. “Actually he’s not my fr—”

“Tell him there’s no need for me to remain here overnight, Allison. If he’d give me something for this damn headache, I’d be fine. Well, if I could see, that is.” He practically growled out the last.

“They can’t give you anything that will make you sleep.”

“But it hurts like hell.”

“I know, but buck up,” she stage-whispered.

He snorted and turned away.

“Actually, Frank,” she stated in her most persuasive tone, “it is in your best interest to stay here. If anything should happen, the staff and equipment you need will be here.”

“No.”

Damn it! She couldn’t take him home. Besides the obvious medical risks, there was the unsettled feeling she experienced around him. It was unreasonable, but there, nonetheless. Why wouldn’t the obstinate man allow them to admit him so she could go home alone to her safe and ordered life.

“Mr. Hughes.”

Frank turned his head, his recalcitrant expression carved in stone.

“You don’t seem to realize the seriousness of your condition. You have a contusion, and as Nurse Hayes suggested, that’s bad enough. But if the swelling of your brain worsens during the night, you’ll need care she can’t give you at home.”

Frank seemed to consider this. “Dr. Matthews, is it?” He asked but continued without waiting for confirmation. “I think I do understand the seriousness of my condition. If you and the staff here haven’t explained it thoroughly enough, my own doctor, after examining the test results you sent, has told me plainly that I’m a jackass if I leave here tonight. However, he’s well aware of my nature and knows I’m a man used to taking judicious risks. I trust Ms. Hayes. She’s a well-trained nurse, is she not?”

“This has nothing to do with Allison’s capabilities,” spit out Walt Neeley. “This has to do with your welfare and the liability of the hospital if you leave and something happens.”

She sighed, knowing the men could butt heads all night without resolution. “What about the blindness?”

Walt spoke. “As far as we can tell, the problem is trauma-induced and will resolve itself when the swelling goes down. Tonight he’ll have to be checked every two hours.”

“Allison will do that.” Frank didn’t give the slightest intimation that she might say no.

She looked at him, really looked at him. He acted the tyrant, totally commanding, used to having every whim fulfilled and order followed without question. But there was an odd hesitance under it all. She’d noticed the characteristic earlier, too, when they were making their way out of the pasture. Discomfort, almost fear.

His hands fisted on his legs, his brows puckered ever so slightly in worry. Other than those tells, no one would know he wasn’t the controlling force he pretended to be. Maybe only she saw he had the false bravado of a man used to being in charge, suddenly finding himself at the mercy of fate. If so, she might not understand his attitude but she wouldn’t betray him.

She tried one more approach. “What if I stayed with you? I’d be here each time the nurse woke you up.”

He shook his head. “If you won’t take me home I’ll call my assistant. He’ll come down immediately and we’ll drive back to DC tonight.”

Walt Neeley threw his hands up and snorted in disbelief. Frank’s lips turned up in a tiny smile, probably secure in the knowledge that he’d presented an alternative worse than going home with her.

Mike gave a one-shouldered shrug when she glanced at him. “I strongly advise he be admitted.” Frank opened his mouth to speak, but Mike cut him off. “If he insists on going, we can’t stop him. You’re one of the people I’d entrust him to. If you want him, of course.”

All four men waited to hear her judgment. “I suppose he could sleep on the sofa in the office. I wouldn’t want him climbing the stairs.” She spoke out loud, but more to herself, reasoning what to do. “I can get him back here very quickly if need be.”

“Good.” Frank spoke as though her decision had been a foregone conclusion all along. His hands relaxed on his thighs.

Reviews:

I loved this book, each story was beautiful, romantic, and filled with very hot sex.” 5 stars

 “If you’re looking for a spicy escape from your everyday life, pick up Your Desire today. It’ll heat your body and singe your soul. Highly recommend!” 4.5 stars


A little about me:
A few years ago, Dee S. Knight began writing, making getting up in the morning fun. During the day, her characters killed people, fell in love, became drunk with power, or sober with responsibility. And they had sex, lots of sex.

 After a while, Dee split her personality into thirds. She writes as Anne Krist for sweeter romances, and Jenna Stewart for ménage and shifter stories. All three of her personas are found on the Nomad Authors website. And all three offer some of the best romance you can find! Also, once a month, look for Dee’s Charity Sunday blog posts, where your comment can support a selected charity. Sign up for my newsletter and have access to free reads.

 Author links:

Website: https://nomadauthors.com

Blog: http://nomadauthors.com/blog

Twitter: http://twitter.com/DeeSKnight

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/DeeSKnight2018

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/265222.Dee_S_Knight

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/-/e/B079BGZNDN

LinkedIn: http://linkedin.com/in/dee-s-knight-0500749

Sweet ‘n Sassy Divas: http://bit.ly/1ChWN3K

 

 

Thursday, September 10, 2026

#outnow - Taken by the Angel of Death by @meganslayer #newrelease @changelingpress

 

Taken by the Angel of Death (Taken 14) by Megan Slayer