Search for the Lost (Chaos and Order 02) by J. Scott Coatsworth and Kim Fielding #BookBlast #NewRelease #OtherWorldsInk #LGBTQ+ #Romantasy #Comedy #Gay

Moonbeams over Atlanta welcomes J. Scott Coatsworth and Kim Fielding to the blog. This is a new release for Search for the Lost the second book in Chaos and Order series. This is a romantic fantasy with bouts of humor, road trip vibes, and body swapping. Lets check it out.

BOOK BLURB

Leopold Lane—after being “collected” for the Office of the Lost by Crispin Eladrin Moss’caladin—is tucked away cozily with his beloved office fae in their treehouse. Happily ever after, right? Not so fast.

Before Leo can even get settled, Crispin’s mother disappears, leaving Crispin in charge and his brother Aspin in a panic. As Queen of the Fae, she has also left them a little surprise: a bit of oxymoronic magic that turns their world upside down.

Crispin and Leo set off in search of the queen and a solution to their predicament. Aspin tags along, with some less-than-helpful friends. On the way they will discover important family secrets and learn new things about each other… and themselves. Nothing is simple when Chaos and Order get involved. Besides, it wouldn’t be a proper quest if it was straightforward, would it?

Series Blurb:

Crispin and Leopold are poorly matched. They’re nothing like one another – Crispin is Order personified, while Leo’s nothing but Chaos. So of course, they are perfect for each other. Now they just have to figure out why the Universe has thrust them together – and how not to get themselves killed (or murder each other) in the process.

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EXCERPT

A sharp banging at the door brought Crispin back to the present. Or rather, to the past, when Leo had been taken away from him by Juzir and Qyl.

They shared a look. Leo was clearly thinking the same thing.

Wordlessly, he gathered up his clothes and disappeared into the bathroom, snicking the lock closed.

We have a bathroom lock now? Crispin brushed away the thought. “Coming!”

He hoped Leo wasn’t in trouble again. After all, they’d fixed everything. There were no more flattened citizens aimlessly lying about. Well, except on Tarkon, where most of the wildlife and half of the people were naturally pretty flat. And they’d thrown a big party to smooth the waters with all their new friends, including the Mucklins, even though Molly the moth-woman had planned to feed Leo and Crispin to her children. But that was all in the past.

He opened the door, half expecting an angry mob. Instead it was his annoying older brother, Aspin, staring at him forlornly. “Hey, Elly….”

The old much-hated nickname—derived from his middle name, Eladrin—brought a rebuke to Crispin’s lips, but it died when he realized how dejected Aspin looked. “All clear!” he called over his shoulder. Crispin made way for Aspin to enter. “Come in. What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

Aspin nodded, looking as if he’d eaten a canary—or Minkis, Crispin’s pet squirrel.

“Who is it?” Leo had appeared, dressed formally for company—which for him meant flip-flops and a loose white T-shirt that he’d made a half-hearted attempt to tuck into his jeans. His hair, which usually stuck straight up, was slightly more tamed. “Oh, hey Aspin!”

Even though Aspin clearly despised him, Leo never held a grudge, one of the many things Crispin loved about him.

Aspin threw his arms around Crispin. “She’s gone, Elly. She’s gone.”

“Who?” But then it dawned on him: Aspin had only one her. And Aspin confirmed it with a single word. “Mother.”

Crispin stiffened. “Mother is dead?” Oh sordid heavens. I’m not ready to take over yet.

Aspin ended the embrace, returning to form. “No, you idiot. I said she was gone, not dead. Three days ago, and no one knows where she is or if she will come back. You have to help me find her.”

“Gone.” Crispin eased himself down onto their newest piece of furniture, the hideous old couch from Leo’s Earth apartment.

Leo stared at him, blinking, then sat on the cushion next to him. “She’s gone. So that means….”

Aspin sank down onto one knee. “Hail to Crispin Eladrin Moss’caladin, King of the High Holy Fae.”

Oh flack. If there’s one thing that Crispin was positively absolutely emphatically five-thousand-percent not ready for, it was to take his mother’s throne. He had no aspirations to power, and he certainly didn’t share his mother’s proclivities for seducing mortals. Well, maybe just the one.


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AUTHORS’ BIOS

J. Scott Coatsworth

Scott lives with his husband Mark in a small Italian villa outside of Sacramento, California. He was indoctrinated into fantasy and sci fi by his mother at the tender age of nine. He devoured her library, but as he grew up, he wondered where all the people like him were.

He decided that if there weren’t queer characters in his favorite genres, he would remake them to his own ends.

A Rainbow Award winning author, he runs Queer Sci Fi, QueeRomance Ink, Liminal Fiction and Other Worlds Ink with Mark, sites that celebrate fiction reflecting queer reality, and was the committee chair for the Indie Authors Committee at the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA) for almost three years.

Kim Fielding

Kim Fielding is very pleased every time someone calls her eclectic. She writes fantasy, mm romance, science fiction, horror, and whatever else her muse demands.

Winner of the 2021 BookLife Prize for Fiction, a Lambda Award finalist and Foreword INDIE finalist, she has migrated back and forth across the western two-thirds of the United States and now lives in Oregon, where she will never have enough bookshelf space.

She’s a university professor who dreams of being able to travel and write full time. She also dreams of having two daughters who fully appreciate her, a husband who isn’t obsessed with football, and a house that cleans itself. Some dreams are more easily obtained than others.

Search for the Lost (Chaos and Order 02) by J. Scott Coatsworth and Kim Fielding #ShadowPost #NewRelease #OtherWorldsInk #LGBTQ+ #Romance #Fantasy #Gay #GuestPost

Search for the Lost - J. Scott Coatsworth & Kim Fielding

J. Scott Coatsworth and Kim Fielding has a new MM romantasy book out, Chaos and Order book two: Search for the Lost.

SOMETIMES ORDER BECOMES CHAOS…

Leopold Lane—after being “collected” for the Office of the Lost by Crispin Eladrin Moss’caladin—is tucked away cozily with his beloved office fae in their treehouse. Happily ever after, right? Not so fast.

Before Leo can even get settled, Crispin’s mother disappears, leaving Crispin in charge and his brother Aspin in a panic. As Queen of the Fae, she has also left them a little surprise: a bit of oxymoronic magic that turns their world upside down.

Crispin and Leo set off in search of the queen and a solution to their predicament. Aspin tags along, with some less-than-helpful friends. On the way they will discover important family secrets and learn new things about each other… and themselves. Nothing is simple when Chaos and Order get involved. Besides, it wouldn’t be a proper quest if it was straightforward, would it?

Series Blurb:

Crispin and Leopold are poorly matched. They’re nothing like one another – Crispin is Order personified, while Leo’s nothing but Chaos. So of course, they are perfect for each other. Now they just have to figure out why the Universe has thrust them together – and how not to get themselves killed (or murder each other) in the process.

Note: Book One is on sale everywhere for just 99¢ from October 1st-31st.


Excerpt

Search for the Lost Meme

A sharp banging at the door brought Crispin back to the present. Or rather, to the past, when Leo had been taken away from him by Juzir and Qyl.

They shared a look. Leo was clearly thinking the same thing.

Wordlessly, he gathered up his clothes and disappeared into the bathroom, snicking the lock closed.

We have a bathroom lock now? Crispin brushed away the thought. “Coming!”

He hoped Leo wasn’t in trouble again. After all, they’d fixed everything. There were no more flattened citizens aimlessly lying about. Well, except on Tarkon, where most of the wildlife and half of the people were naturally pretty flat. And they’d thrown a big party to smooth the waters with all their new friends, including the Mucklins, even though Molly the moth-woman had planned to feed Leo and Crispin to her children. But that was all in the past.

He opened the door, half expecting an angry mob. Instead it was his annoying older brother, Aspin, staring at him forlornly. “Hey, Elly….”

The old much-hated nickname—derived from his middle name, Eladrin—brought a rebuke to Crispin’s lips, but it died when he realized how dejected Aspin looked. “All clear!” he called over his shoulder. Crispin made way for Aspin to enter. “Come in. What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

Aspin nodded, looking as if he’d eaten a canary—or Minkis, Crispin’s pet squirrel.

“Who is it?” Leo had appeared, dressed formally for company—which for him meant flip-flops and a loose white T-shirt that he’d made a half-hearted attempt to tuck into his jeans. His hair, which usually stuck straight up, was slightly more tamed. “Oh, hey Aspin!”

Even though Aspin clearly despised him, Leo never held a grudge, one of the many things Crispin loved about him.

Aspin threw his arms around Crispin. “She’s gone, Elly. She’s gone.”

“Who?” But then it dawned on him: Aspin had only one her. And Aspin confirmed it with a single word. “Mother.”

Crispin stiffened. “Mother is dead?” Oh sordid heavens. I’m not ready to take over yet.

Aspin ended the embrace, returning to form. “No, you idiot. I said she was gone, not dead. Three days ago, and no one knows where she is or if she will come back. You have to help me find her.”

“Gone.” Crispin eased himself down onto their newest piece of furniture, the hideous old couch from Leo’s Earth apartment. Leo stared at him, blinking, then sat on the cushion next to him. “She’s gone. So that means….”

Aspin sank down onto one knee. “Hail to Crispin Eladrin Moss’caladin, King of the High Holy Fae.”

Oh flack. If there’s one thing that Crispin was positively absolutely emphatically five-thousand-percent not ready for, it was to take his mother’s throne. He had no aspirations to power, and he certainly didn’t share his mother’s proclivities for seducing mortals. Well, maybe just the one.


Author Bios

Scott lives with his husband Mark in a small Italian villa outside of Sacramento, California. He was indoctrinated into fantasy and sci fi by his mother at the tender age of nine. He devoured her library, but as he grew up, he wondered where all the people like him were.

He decided that if there weren’t queer characters in his favorite genres, he would remake them to his own ends.

A Rainbow Award winning author, he runs Queer Sci Fi, QueeRomance Ink, Liminal Fiction and Other Worlds Ink with Mark, sites that celebrate fiction reflecting queer reality, and was the committee chair for the Indie Authors Committee at the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA) for almost three years.

Kim Gielding

Kim Fielding is very pleased every time someone calls her eclectic. She writes fantasy, mm romance, science fiction, horror, and whatever else her muse demands.

Winner of the 2021 BookLife Prize for Fiction, a Lambda Award finalist and Foreword INDIE finalist, she has migrated back and forth across the western two-thirds of the United States and now lives in Oregon, where she will never have enough bookshelf space.

She’s a university professor who dreams of being able to travel and write full time. She also dreams of having two daughters who fully appreciate her, a husband who isn’t obsessed with football, and a house that cleans itself. Some dreams are more easily obtained than others.

Other Worlds Ink logo

Night Home (The Vampire Next Door 01) by Rose Titus #BookBlast #OtherWorldsInk #LGBTQ+ #Paranormal #SciFantasy #NewRelease

Moonbeams over Atlanta welcomes Rose Titus to the blog. This is a new edition for Night Home, the first book in The Vampire Next Door trilogy. This is a speculative fiction novella with genres of fantasy, horror, thriller, and mystery. Check it out below.

BOOK BLURB

Then Muriel finds the research notes that had been hidden away in the old Victorian; and she discovers what the professor was researching: vampires. It isn’t long before Muriel meets residents of the small town who knew the professor almost a century ago, and learns that everything he wrote in the notes he kept is true.

And then she finds herself stalked by a vampire hunter.

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EXCERPT

There was the usual convenience store stuff on the rack: Tabloids, celebrity gossip, fashion magazines, newspapers. The store sold lottery tickets, junk food, candy, beer, a few grocery items, even a few small appliances. She noticed the guy who owned the place was watching her. It made her nervous. Not because he watched her, but because he was so pale. He did not look unhealthy. It was like he just never got out into the sun. 

“You must be the new girl.”

“Huh?” She spun around to face him.

“You’re new in town. You just moved into that old house.”

“H-how do you know?”

“Well, how could I not know? I live across the field and saw the light was on for the first time in a long time.”

“Oh,” she felt silly. “Yeah. That’s right. I’m new in town. The house will need some work, but it’s not really that bad. My eccentric old uncle owned it a long time ago and—”

“I know. Professor Aubrey. He was a good man,” there was sadness in his voice.

“Yeah, that’s what they say—” how the hell would he know if he was a good man? This guy looked no more than thirty. The old guy had been dead for at least since 1936, according to the old newspaper clipping.

“Elton.” He seemed to smile as he introduced himself. “Elton Masaryk.”

“Muriel Aubrey.”

“That’s a pretty name.”

She went up to pay for the magazine she picked.

“You let me know if you need anything over there, all right? I live just across the field. If you need anything, don’t hesitate. Really.”

“Thank you.” She went for the door but turned around. “You sound as if you know something about Professor Aubrey?”

He hesitated. “A little. Why?”

“He was related to me, but I hardly know anything about him. I heard he was murdered by his colleague from the University and—”

“Yeah. That’s right. The same guy who murdered your uncle also killed three other people too. They gave him the chair. Bastard deserved it.” But then he was silent. He was beginning to sound as if he knew more than he could tell. As if it still angered him somehow. “Oh well.” Then he went silent.

“Okay. Thank you.” She left. She returned home as the sky began to brighten, and finally slept.


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AUTHOR BIO

Rose Titus

Rose Titus resides somewhere in cold, dreary New England with two manipulative cats and a very out of date computer with which she creates horror and fantasy fiction. She also has a restored classic Buick to ride around in while in search of adventure.

For travel she has stayed the night in an allegedly haunted castle, has taken a boat ride on Loch Ness, and has visited the Bermuda Triangle — without getting lost.

Her work has previously appeared in Lost Worlds, Lynx Eye, Bog Gob, Mausoleum, Weird Terrain, Descend, The Dead River Review, and other literary magazines. She also writes regularly for Blood Moon Rising Magazine.

When she’s not working or writing or messing with her old car, she waits by the mailbox for her Fortean Times to arrive.

Fire’s Ally (The Ervuan Firecycle 01) by D. M. Kannapan #BlogTour #OtherWorldsInk #LGBTQ+ #FF #NonBinary #ScienceFiction #Fantasy #YA #NewRelease

Moonbeams over Atlanta welcomes D. M. Kannapan to the blog. Fire’s Ally, book one of The Ervuan Firecycle series, which was released January 3rd, 2026. It’s a young adult, cozy-adjacent fantasy novel Here we go!

BOOK BLURB

She belongs to a gentle, bookish society, and her people have been fighting the fire back for decades. But they are not ready for the turmoil it is about to unleash.

Eleg understands the fire better than most. She has already once failed to protect the innocent in its path.

Though she would rather be alone with her charts and graphs, Eleg must become the unlikely hero her people need, and bring the continent together in an ambitious technological endeavor to save their home.

Fire’s Ally is a YA fantasy climate-fiction with queer characters, sci fi elements, and coming of age themes. It is cozy-adjacent but has high stakes. You’ll like it if you like deep, immersive worldbuilding and political intrigue.

Warnings: natural disasters, high control groups

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EXCERPT

Eleg followed Aizl and Ovvet, glad to be in motion, and glad to be walking with Aizl. She wondered how much Ovvet had intuited about her desire to see the fire. For Eleg, insight came in short flashes and incomplete information. It was probably the same for Ovvet.

He didn’t act worried about Eleg wanting to observe the fire, though, as she suspected most adults would.

Her cousin Zott skipped beside her. The Pavilion Plateau touched the front of Urmetten, their village, and the hill it was built into, from the north.

From there, the children followed an eastward path into a narrow ravine. It was filled with towerlike rock formations that Aizl loved to climb.

As they approached the ravine from above, they had a view of its twin stony walls zigzagging into the distance, and between them, irregular rock pillars growing like stalks out of the ground.

Another few steps, and they were in the cool, craggy depths with the clear sky above and a network of paths ahead, among the bases of towers. The quiet dialect of the ravine creatures surrounded them. Eleg should come here more often. Maybe with Aizl.

There wasn’t usually much reason to come to the ravine. Its hardy denizens survived without any particular tending from the Urmettians. Nearly everywhere else, the villagers studied the soil, rock, and the water, gleaned insight about the health of their continent, Ervu, and offered whatever service a plant may want from their human hands.

And the gatherer parties didn’t favor the canyon for foraging when richer groves were a short walk away. Gathering for the kitchens was one of the few activities that pulled Eleg away from her hiding places.

“This is the best place to practice climbing!” Aizl said. She dashed ahead, her wavy hair bobbing, pointing out towers she’d scaled and the challenges each posed to even a skilled climber.

Eleg smiled at her enthusiasm and quietly hoped there weren’t too many good climbing towers ahead of their destination. The shapes in the fire wouldn’t wait for Aizl, even if Eleg wanted to.

Ovvet walked more slowly, his long robes dragging on the rocks, and looked back to check that Eleg and Zott were keeping up.
“This is the one!” Aizl rested her hand on an imposing tower, both taller and wider than its neighbors. Its lumpy shape formed natural steps. “Best to climb from this side.”

They scrabbled up with Aizl’s supportive guidance. Ovvet boosted Zott the first step. Eleg stopped on the second to adjust the drawing materials strapped to her side.

After a short but invigorating climb, they sat on the smooth top and gazed out across the expanse.

Aizl spread her arms. “Isn’t it marvelous?”

They were above the surrounding stone pillars, and each was sliced cleanly by the early-afternoon sunlight into a bright section and a deep shadow cast by the canyon walls.

Behind them were the vast hill ranges, with decorative stonework marking the entrances of the carved rooms that made up Urmetten.

On the Pavilion Plateau, which abutted it, small figures were still hanging art. The sacred river of Paclellic, lined with chirp-filled amber-and-yellow foliage, meandered into the valley. Along its banks, groups of visitors to the village made their camps, resting before entering the pavilion for the feast. A distant herd of goats made its way across the grassland, rippling the green around it.
And beyond it all, that fire, looming over so many lives with its tower of black smoke and stark flames. It was partially obscured by the mountain range that it intertwined.

Where it wasn’t obscured, its base was ringed with dead earth and black ash, and gray and yellow liquid leached into the earth in fine rivulets.

In the flames, the jagged shape Eleg had seen was still there, unlike in any of her previous sketches. She unrolled her drawing paper and looked over her shoulder at the others. They were looking the other way, toward the village.

Eleg followed their gaze. The air that filled the canyon was shimmering and changing. Thin tendrils formed, like corn silk blowing in the wind, but made of light or mist. The tendrils drew closer to each other in a bundle and began to cohere in an image.

“Look, it’s Puvvel!” said Ovvet, pointing out the image to Zott. The tendrils formed a cloud with a faintly recognizable expression—not quite a face, and yet it left the sense of looking at one. The expression was of playful excitement.

Zott took a look. “He looks like a cactus today!”

Eleg gave Zott some of her paper and charcoal to draw what he saw. Ervu’s Messengers looked a bit different to everyone, but Zott was still learning his plants and probably hadn’t actually meant a cactus. Aizl reached out a hand toward Puvvel, as if coaxing a butterfly to land on it.

Eleg took a deep breath. The visible presence of Puvvel must mean Ervu’s patterns were especially understandable to humans now—a brief moment of clarity, insight, and connection.

More often, when a Messenger didn’t appear, the land’s signals were mixed. Even then, the village scholars’ gentle lives of peace and study sharpened their ears, trained their eyes, and deepened their understanding, creating a sensitive perception that reached across Ervu and into her perennial workings—through the vibration of the earth, the ripples of the river, and the currents of the air.

It fell to the Urmettians to use their understanding to tend to the ailing land. They led the efforts of Ervu’s many peoples to beat back the fire and evade its effects, to replan their walking routes so they weren’t choked with smoke, and to heal landscapes when they were ravaged by ash.

The village youths had years of study ahead of them to develop their perceptual reach. But Eleg couldn’t wait that long—not when there were questions to be answered about the fire now.


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AUTHOR BIO

D. M. Kannapan is a writer, engineer, and climate activist in the Los Angeles area. Apart from books, she works on space technology, paintings, and cartoons.

She gave a TEDx talk in 2023 titled The Climate Movement Needs Your Creativity, Not Your Guilt.

#BookBlitz Wild Ride by Will Okati #NewRelease #LGBTQ+ #MM #DarkFantasy #Mystery #Romance #ChangelingPress

Please welcome returning author Will Okati to the Moonbeams over Atlanta blog. This is a book blast for the new release Wild Ride box set of four stories in one book: Wild Ride, Hell at One Dark Window, Blood Red, and Sidetracked. It involves time traveling, storytelling, and wild west. Enjoy!

Title: Wild Ride
Author: Will Okati
Cover Art: Marteeka Karland
Genres: Action Adventure, Box Sets, Dark Fantasy, Mystery, Suspense, Intrigue, New Releases, Paranormal, Romance, Wildest West
Themes: Capture Fantasy, Dark Romance, LGBTQ+ Gay, Magic, Sorcery, Witchcraft, Second Edition, Vampires
Book Length: Box Set
Page Count: 220

Book Description

Time traveler, highwayman, beast, and storyteller — it’s going to be a wild ride.

Wild Ride — Strange dreams tell Nikos he’s meant to be more than a Secret Keeper, tracking the predatory Nightlings. Alexei, a time traveler from the past, has come to find Nikos and take him back to the year 2007. It’s going to be a wild ride…

Hell at One Dark Window — It’s the end of the world as we knew it. For most folk survival is all that matters, and the only justice to be found comes at the end of a pistol or the point of a stake. Barrett, a vampire and a highwayman, gets his kicks out of stealing from robber barons. He’s going to take his human lover, Nathaniel, and getting the hell out of Dodge. So to speak. All he needs is to pull off one last big job…

Blood Red — On the coldest night of the year, Ros is cast out of a village for the sin of lying with another man. He’s meant to go to his death, but stumbles instead into the enchanted garden of a Beast… a vampire Beast. Will the Beast find the salvation he’s sought for so long in the arms of a wise and willing story teller?

Sidetracked — An escort-for-hire, Devon’s just been humiliated and stiffed by his patron of the evening. When the subway taking him home switches tracks, Devon finds himself alone with a man in a white mask and gloves, a man who embodies every sexual fantasy Devon’s ever had. Is this a dream, or has he found himself Phantom Night Rider?

Excerpt

Wild Ride (Box Set)
Will Okati
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2026 Will Okati

Excerpt from Hell at One Dark Window

Look for me by moonlight;
Watch for me by moonlight;
I’ll come to thee by moonlight,
Though hell should bar the way!

Alfred Noyes
“The Highwayman”

“You’re quiet tonight, lover.”

“Am I?”

“Not a word’s passed your lips except ‘harder,’ ‘more,’ and ‘oh, God…’ and those I recall being spoken in the heat of passion. You’ve not made a peep since. Being the smart type myself, despite all appearances, this tells me you’ve got something going on in that busy mind of yours. You care to share?”

“I don’t know yet.”

“Well, that’s fair.” Cool, strong arms wrapped around Nathaniel’s waist, pulling him backwards against his lover’s body. “Of course, you know I don’t plan to let up until you spill the whole pot of beans.”

Nathaniel gave a soft laugh despite himself. “I know you won’t.”

“So? Save us a little trouble, and tell me what’s on your mind right now.”

“Not yet.” Nathaniel raised his hand and placed it palm-down on the cold window glass, where he stood staring out into the night, down to the abandoned stretch of cracked pavement running past his apartment. “There aren’t words, so far.”

“Hmm. Never known you to be at a loss before.” Nathaniel’s lover jostled him gently, playfully. “Never did meet a man who liked so much to talk about anything and everything. Apples to anthills. That’s why I took a shine to you in the first place — well, aside from an ass you could bounce quarters off and your pretty face. Sing for me.”

“O figlio perdito –“

Nathaniel’s lover jostled him. “Smarty-pants.”

“Yeah.” Nathaniel leaned into his lover’s firm, gentle hold, savoring the feel of being held strong and sure by someone who’d never let him fall. Life taught gay men an early lesson: don’t trust anyone unless you know for a fact they won’t turn on you, and that they mean it when they say they love you. His partner had it all, did it all, said it all, and meant it all.

Nathaniel should have been able to be open about what was worrying him. Yet somehow, he found that he couldn’t put his thoughts into words. Not yet.

His lover seemed to accept that. One thing about him, he did know when not to push. He simply held Nathaniel and rocked them soft and easy against one another, sexy yet comforting. “It’ll be all right,” he murmured after a moment. “Whatever’s got you fretting, it’ll be just fine.”

Nathaniel’s lips curved in a smile. “I know.”

He reached down to lay his hands over his lover’s, feeling the same mild shock as he had the first time they touched, finding them to be cool and satin-slick despite a few calluses. They held still as if carved from marble. No human could ever hold such a pose without so much as twitching.

Nathaniel had learned that there were more things on heaven and earth, Horatio, and so forth, but even he’d had a hard time accepting that the gorgeous man, all tousled hazelnut hair, twinkling blue eyes, and ready wit, was, of all things, a vampire.

Honestly, weren’t vampires supposed to at least give a nod to tradition? He’d seen enough wannabes in his time to know the accepted look was unrelieved black from hair to clothes to boots. This man — vampire — on the other hand, gloried in wearing a soft flannel shirt, molded-on and faded blue jeans, and clean but battered sneakers. No thick, chunky jewelry, save for a cross necklace.

Yeah, a cross.

When he’d leaned back against the bar counter in the sports watering hole where they’d met, arms crossed, grinning broadly, Nathaniel had cracked up and told the man he had a hell of an imagination.

The vampire had shrugged, and asked for one night to prove himself.

Nathaniel didn’t usually go for one-night stands, but this man had the look, he had the wit, and you had to admire someone with balls big enough to tell such outrageous stories.

He’d taken the vampire up on his offer.

And back in his apartment, when sharp fangs that were in no way fake pierced the soft skin of his neck, where throat met shoulder, and the vampire drank deep of his blood, Nathaniel had realized this was no lie. He’d found an honest-to-Satan vampire, and brought him home to bed.

What a bedding it had been, too! Tangled, sweaty limbs, lips and tongues fighting for dominance in wet, devouring kisses, and hands everywhere, from pinching nipples to gently rolling balls to stripping heavy, swollen cocks. Cool fingers, slick with oil, slipping inside Nathaniel, stretching him open with more patience and tenderness than any mortal had ever shown. The feel of the vampire’s cock splitting him open, making him ache for more even as it was given to him, and then the blissful burn of being totally filled… well, Nathaniel hadn’t minded the blood loss by then.

To his surprise, it still hadn’t bothered him when he came down from his orgasm, when he and the vampire lay tangled together in a mass of sweaty sheets, stained with one another’s come, marked by new-forming bruises and love bites. He’d let the vampire rest atop him, not breathing but still quaking in every muscle from the force of his climax, and thought, So, this is a vampire. If this is a creature of the night, I’ll take him over a human any day.

The vampire had chuckled, as if reading Nathaniel’s thoughts. He’d raised his head and grinned. “Barrett,” he’d said, stroking Nathaniel’s cheek. “My name’s Barrett. D’you believe me now?”

Barrett. Nathaniel let himself fall into the soothing, rocking rhythm. When Barrett began to hum, some old tune by Johnny Cash that just fit his raspy voice, Nathaniel almost closed his eyes and purred with the pleasure of it.

Yes, his lover was a killer. More, he was a thief, a gambler, and an all-around bad guy. But Barrett loved Nathaniel with all his un-beating heart, would do anything for him, and that was what mattered in the end.

Soft lips brushed Nathaniel’s ear. “So,” Barrett murmured, “you feel ready to talk yet?”

Nathaniel stared out the window, at the lonely stretch of highway beneath them. He took in a deep breath, and nodded. “Yes,” he said. “Don’t leave me tonight. Promise you won’t leave me.”

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Meet the Author

Will Okati (formerly known as Willa) has lived through a few Interesting Times, but come out the other side a little grayer, a little wiser, and ready to get writing. Still as passionate about coffee, cats, and crafts as ever, but knowing that to your own self you must be true. Also still one of the quiet ones to watch out for, but life — like storytelling — is always a work in progress.

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Children of Anzulla: Draxton & Kellan (New Beginnings Trilogy 01) by Kashel Char #BlogTour #OtherWorldsInk #LGBTQ+ #Sci-Fantasy #Romance #Paranormal #NewRelease

Moonbeams over Atlanta welcomes Kashel Char to the blog. On April 2nd, 2026, they released Children of Anzulla: Draxton & Kellan, the start of a trilogy called New Beginnings Trilogy. It’s a portal, sci-fantasy and I do find this subgenre fascinating. Let’s see what it is all about.

BOOK BLURB

Have you ever looked for something you know is there but can’t find it?

I was born to explore caves, and when it comes to finding the door to another reality, I become a tire-screeching, hyper-focused maniac.

When I use my charm, I know, no one can refuse me, especially when I’m wearing my sexy jean shorts and wide-brimmed hat, even if I pair them with flip-flops.

I will do anything to secure an extension to explore the Star Caves, nestled in the Cradle of Mankind, South Africa.

With my grandfather’s map in hand, I set out to barter for more time.

The plan was simple. Entice, seduce, and bribe the man responsible for my future. He accepted the bribe, my priceless map, but as soon as he started showing up at the site, he refused my body, three times!

KELLAN:

How do you keep a bubble from popping when you want to catch it? Easy, don’t try to catch it at all.

I’m so in love with Draxton that I’d do just about anything to keep him around a little longer—even if it means shoving him into another guy’s arms! It’s my way of saying, I’m not trying to build a Draxton prison over here!

But, how will I do that if I have to protect him while he’s going on all these missions to help my brother free Atlas, a dragon who was the only one who could take us back home?

Recommended pre-read: New Beginnings Trilogy.

Warnings: Themes of rescue missions, human oppression, invasion, slavery

Buy Links:
Universal | Goodreads | QueeRomance Ink


EXCERPT

His eyes flicked to mine. “You know, Mr. Dubois, I call bullshit. You didn’t preserve it. You were hiding something.” He was correct. I hid my great-grandfather’s code that he had written with milk on the side of the map.

I waved off the statement. “Look, the passages on the map turn left upon entry and pass in front of the chimney, but then it turns sharply down and to the right. We need more time because we’ve been scanning that wall repeatedly. We can’t go right. We need time. Here, Tobias and I found a fine line. I call it a line, but he insists it’s a crack. It’s unusually straight and long. No human could have scraped that with a piece of rock. It’s not rock carvings. Look, the door has to be there, somewhere in this exact spot, either up or down. You know the rock carvings look just like these.” I pointed to ladders, triangles, and squares. “I know the door is there. All I need is time, Professor. Once I find the door, all the credit goes to you and your faculty. You won’t have to spend a cent. All you have to do is say yes. Let National Geographic pull out, as they planned to today. I need space to work without any interference or distractions. Give me three months. That’s all I ask. If there’s no sign other than what we’ve found up until today, I will gladly pack up and call it quits. I’ll go home and start my research all over again. Because then I’m wrong. So wrong.”

I tipped my head down to catch my breath and waited. Usually, people hated it if I stayed quiet for so long, it made them uncomfortable. My grandfather told me it’s not my fault if people got impatient and thought I was rude. The silence in the office finally doused my echoing words. When I looked back up, he sat patiently waiting for me with a smile. This man was really at the top of the food chain.

He pointed a finger at me. I wanted to sink to my knees for him. Not to beg, but to crawl closer and smell him like a dog. I bet he smelled like soap and tasted sweat. “I will give you three months, but I will be visiting and checking on your progress. No one else goes into those caves but you and Tobias. You work for me now. Without pay, of course. Anything new—be it the door, any bones, or anything, I don’t care if it’s just a hair. It belongs to the Wits, to my department.”

A broad smile spread across my face. “Thank you.” I stood up weak in the knees, to shake his hand. “You just made the best deal of your career. I won’t disappoint you.”

“Famous last words, Mr. Dubois.” He unfolded his new map, then rolled it back up and slipped it back into the protective tube.

“Famous indeed, as you’ll see. You are about to become very famous.” I chuckled. “I was about to flirt with you and persuade you with my body.” I laughed, awaiting a reaction.

“No need for that. We’ll see more of each other, Mr. Dubois.”

“Please, I asked you earlier to call me Draxton.”

“Only if you call me by my name, Kellan.” He looked like a Kellan. I liked the alliteration of the k’s.

“Professor Kellan Kilroy, I look forward to working with you.” We shook hands longer than necessary. His long, slender fingers were surprisingly callused for a man who spends his days in an office. I shivered at the thought of those rough calluses scraping against my skin down my spine on their way to separate my butt cheeks.

Gods, I have to stop gazing into his all-knowing eyes. I can’t…I can’t look away.

He beamed at me knowingly, and we paused for a moment. In that instant, for the first time ever, my entire world went silent as I made eye contact. It didn’t make me nervous—no buzzing noises urging me to find silence—just a profound and unexpected comfort that settled deep within my bones. All the usual frantic chatter in my mind faded, replaced by a singular, unwavering focus as we shared the understanding of mutual attraction.

“We’ll see each other again the day after tomorrow. Please tell Tobias I said hello.” He patted my arm, and my skin prickled where he had touched me.

Swirls of heat detonated inside me. “I…I will, until then,” I said hurriedly, opening the office door, flustered and eager to resume my trek through the Johannesburg traffic—with a victorious grin.


Buy Links:
Universal | Goodreads | QueeRomance Ink

AUTHOR BIO

Kashel is a Canadian speculative fiction author, writing in the genres of science fiction, fantasy, and paranormal.

Their writing explores who we are, where we come from, and where we are heading as a human race on Earth, by weaving unpredictable, twisted stories with a dash of humor, centered on gay characters.

Author Website | Author Facebook | Author Goodreads | Author Liminal Fiction (LimFic.com) | Author QueeRomance Ink | Author Amazon

Forrest House by E.M. Hamill #BlogTour #OtherWorldsInk #LGBTQ+ #Fantasy #Mystery #Thriller #Romance #NewRelease

Moonbeams over Atlanta welcomes E.M. Hamill to the blog. On January 11, 2026, she released Forrest House, a standalone Mystery-Thriller, romance novel. Enjoy!

BOOK BLURB

Ander Forrest renounced blood magic to become a nurse-healer in his rural hometown, far from the drama of wizardry and espionage his sister Kate craved. When Kate goes missing in action, Ander finds himself the legal guardian of her gifted twins and receives a cryptic warning from Kate’s husband to protect them before he, too, disappears.

Six months later, his former lover crash lands in the kids’ bedroom via a spell only Ander’s sister could have cast. Druid Cai Piper doesn’t remember how he got there, but he knows he never stopped loving Ander, and that he was sent to protect him and the twins. Cai is strangely drawn to Forrest House and the land it stands upon.

With the secrets of a clandestine wizards’ order hanging between them, Cai and Ander must remember how to trust each other as sinister forces move against the Forrest family—magical terrorists who want to exploit their rare sorcery and bring the world to its knees.

Buy Links:
Universal | Goodreads


EXCERPT

Cai slept the rest of the afternoon. Ander managed to distract the twins from sneaking into their uncle’s room by helping them make chocolate chip cookies. As snow-blue darkness began to gather in the valley, he peered into the guest room again.

His bloodstained long coat was draped over the footboard. Cai sat on the side of the bed, his drooping head leaning in his hands. It was a disconcerting flashback of the night Ander left their flat. That scene was seared into his conscience like a brand.

“Headache?” Ander asked softly. Cai startled, raised his head quickly, and winced.

“Blinding,” he admitted.

“Here. You need to drink water.” Ander uncapped the bottle and handed it to Cai. “You took a nasty hit to the head. I healed the cut, but it’s a bad bruise. I have some acetaminophen—paracetamol—if you want it.”

“Not yet.” He drank deeply and stood, unfolding his tall frame with caution. “The vertigo is gone.”

“Good.” They stared at each other for a long moment. Ander’s insides still did flip-flops beneath Cai’s golden-brown gaze, bringing warmth to his cheeks.

Cai cleared his throat. “You said I’m in America?”

“Yeah.”

“And if I was sent by a bloodspell, does that mean Remy and Raven are here?”

“Well, of course.” Ander blinked as Cai closed his eyes and sighed. He wasn’t sure if it was relief or defeat. “You didn’t know,” he said.

“No. Edwyn kept it a secret, even from me.” His fingers touched the blood-matted knot at the back of his head in tentative exploration. “I must have been out. I would never have let him send me otherwise. He was bleeding badly.” His hand tapped an area high and to the outside on his left leg. “Shot in the thigh.”

Ander thought of all the major blood vessels there and breathed a plea to the Goddess that none were severed. “I didn’t think the Fellowship used bullets.”

“We don’t. We were on a joint mission with intelligence agents. Someone started lobbing spells at us and our allies turned and shot each other. He was hit in the crossfire.”

“A Judas spell?” Ander frowned.

“I think so.”

“Were you working with British intelligence?”

Cai opened his mouth to answer, then flinched and rubbed both sides of his head. “Some of my memories are missing. It’s painful to think about.”

“I think you might have a concussion.”

“Maybe. But this feels more like it was blocked by a spell.”

“By Edwyn?”

“I don’t think he would have had time. Not surrounded by guns and magic.” His breath became uneven again, and he sat unsteadily on the bed. “The harder I try to think about it, the more it hurts.”

“Don’t try right now.” Ander came closer and put his fingers under Cai’s jaw, forcing him to look up so he could peer into his eyes. Still no signs of a more serious head injury, but he wasn’t satisfied until he ran his fingers under Cai’s clotted hair to cradle the bruised lump beneath his palm, his senses open for new bleeding. He didn’t discover any.

Cai stared at him as he pulled away, his face inches from Ander’s. They both became aware at the same time of how close he was standing, his hands gentle on the back of Cai’s head as if he were going to draw him into a kiss. Ander slowly stepped back.

“I have to find a way to get back to…” Cai frowned. “To…damn it! They took that, too. I don’t know where we were.” He looked to Ander with a desolate gaze. “I don’t even know if Edwyn’s alive.”

“You can’t ask the Fellowship?”

He stiffened. “No, I can’t.”

“I’d feel better if I could get you to a hospital.”

“I’ll be fine. I think it’s clear I’m meant to protect you and the twins.”

“Protect us from what?” He sat on the bed next to him. “What’s going on, Cai? Why wouldn’t Ed tell you where the kids were?”

He didn’t answer, his gaze slipping sideways.

Ander had not missed this infuriating silence. Kate had pushed Ander away with it, Edwyn maintained it, and Cai had used it to shut down questions when they were together.

He’d left Wales and come home because the people he loved most in the world could barely talk to him unless he was inducted into the Fellowship.

Fury rose in scarlet floods with Cai’s refusal to speak. Ander let it crest. “That’s fantastic. Of course you can’t say anything. Then tell me how to protect them and get the fuck out.”

“You don’t—”

“They’re all I have left of Kate! I need to know how to protect them!”

“If you’re going to shout at me, then I will take that paracetamol now.” His voice was soft, defeated. A crease furrowed the skin between his brows, and the tight lines of his body spoke of more pain than a headache. Ander didn’t have to imagine the grief of not knowing if his brother was dead or alive. He knew only too well.

“I’m sorry.” Ander exhaled, forcing himself to calm. “We aren’t done,” he said in a less strident tone. “You will tell me what’s going on. Fuck the Fellowship and your code of secrecy! Those kids are my priority now. They’ve already lost their mother, and now maybe their father. No more.”

To his surprise, Cai nodded. “I promise I will tell you what I know.”

Disconcerted by his unexpected victory, Ander reluctantly let his anger drain away.

“Are you hungry? I’m making dinner.”

“Starving. I can’t recall when I last ate anything.”

“It’ll be ready in half an hour. Make sure you drink the rest of that water.” He turned to go.

“Ander.” Cai’s expression was gentle as Ander looked back over his shoulder. “It’s good to see you.”

“Good to see you, too.” The flutters inside were ridiculous despite the tug of war between Ander’s anger and worry.


Buy Links:
Universal | Goodreads

AUTHOR BIO

Award- winning author Elisabeth “E.M.” Hamill is a nurse by day, unabashed geek, chocoholic, sci fi and fantasy novelist by nights, weekends, and whenever it’s possible to steal quality time with a laptop.

Lisa lives with their family, two dogs, and a cat in the wilds of eastern suburban Kansas, where they fend off flying monkey attacks and prep for the zombie apocalypse.

Author Website | Author Facebook (Personal) | Author Facebook (Author Page) | Author Instagram | Author Goodreads | Author Liminal Fiction (LimFic.com) | Author QueeRomance Ink | Author Amazon

The Talking Cure (The Sean Joye Investigations 02) by Kathy L. Brown #BlogTour #OtherWorldsInk #LGBTQ+ #Fantasy #Mystery #Supernatural #NewRelease

Moonbeams over Atlanta welcomes Kathy L. Brown to the blog. On November 25th, 2025, she recently released The Talking Cure, which is the second book in The Sean Joye Investigations series. You do not need to read the first book in the series, The Big Cinch, to enjoy this one.

BOOK BLURB

Haunted woman claws her way back to reality by reconnecting with her magical powers in The Talking Cure, a supernatural Yuletide follow-up to The Big Cinch.

Committed to an insane asylum, Violet Humphrey is isolated on the Illinois prairie with only her own thoughts and a persistent new voice in her head for company. When she is accused of murder, Violet suspects her road to both freedom and recovery lies through confronting her painful past and solving the crime. Magically summoned, Sean Joye skids through an ice storm to help Violet, but can they catch the killer and defy an eldritch horror before Violet loses her tenuous grasp on reality?

“The Talking Cure is a marvelous story—an Agatha Christie-style murder mystery infused with a strong sense of the Weird… and a hearty dose of magic on the side. It’s ideal for all fans of the sinister, the surprising, and the strange.”

—Cherie Priest, award-winning author of Boneshaker

SERIES BLURB

The Sean Joye Investigations series embeds readers in a magic-laced 1920s era St. Louis. The world has barely survived a brutal global war, disease pandemic, and rampant ethnic violence. The cosmic balance is off kilter, and corrupt energies seep through widening cracks in reality. That foul rot has touched Sean Joye in myriad ways. A disillusioned veteran of 1922’s Irish Civil War, he traveled to America to escape supernatural attention, forget his assassin past, and forge a clean new life. Can Sean now master the magical abilities he has rejected for so long in time to protect the innocent and save his own skin?

Warnings: suicidal ideations, references past harm to child

Buy Links:
Universal


EXCERPT

Cold air invaded the room, and the flames crackled in greeting. Out in the foyer, I could hear Carrie as she passed off the arriving board members’ coats and bags to an orderly dragooned into footman duty—“Good evening, Doctor. Ah, Doctor, you remember Doctor? And here’s Doctor, right on time.”

I scooted as far away from Dr. Elsass as I could, making for the Christmas tree in front of the parlor windows. Its sharp green scent tried its best to counter the guests’ stench. As much as I avoided the director, I could still hear him chirping in the background. “We’ll talk about that, of course.” His voice dropped to a whisper, but the words flew across the room to me like bright budgies. “Do you think that wise, Emerson? She is in a most fragile state.”

I found Nurse Martin leading my other roommate, Berta, and two additional patients in tree decoration. “Ah, Violet, thanks for joining us.” She held out a sturdy cedar ornament. “Care to help?”

I took it and clung to its warm scent for protection, but despite knowing better—the men would just upset me—I couldn’t help watching their dispute. Dr. Elsass was a chess master, and we were all merely pieces in play. Even this Emerson fellow.

“Don’t you believe in your Talking Cure? She seems much better to me.” Emerson glanced down at his wife and grinned, showing lots of teeth.

The rumor among the maids and kitchen staff was that Blanche was besotted with our therapist, Dr. Ibrahim Cole. Although she was here for “female hysteria”— whatever that was—I had never met a less hysterical female.

Blanche diligently ignored her husband and Dr. Elsass, engrossed as she was in the sketchbook that was never far from her side.

“Aren’t you, darling?” Emerson said, paying no attention to her activity. “Wouldn’t you like a break from chewing off Cole’s ear? You can talk to me if you feel down in the mouth.”

Blanche looked up. “I would like to see my dog.”

Ah, I thought. She was paying attention. I bet she notices more than she lets on.

“See? She’s fine.” Emerson exclaimed to Dr. Elsass, as if he’d cured her female hysteria himself.

“Perhaps a weekend pass,” the director mused, pretending to consider the matter. “We’ll discuss it at the staff meeting. Mrs. Emerson has made remarkable progress, it is true.” He glanced around the room, caught my eye, and beamed. Damn. “And speaking of remarkable progress, you know Mrs. Humphrey, I’m sure.”

Emerson strode across the room and held out his hand. “Percy Emerson. We’ve met, but you may not remember. I knew your father from the Piasa Club.”

I made myself take his hand, briefly, despite his rotten odor. And the maggots I could see writhing about on his palm. Not real, I told myself. Not real. “Please call me Violet.”

“And you should call me Percy. I’m…Sorry for your loss.”

I nodded and made for the tea cart, aiming for a napkin to wipe his stench off my skin. My losses were many. To which did he refer?

Percy drifted back to Dr. Elsass and winked. “Nice try. As I was saying, Blanche is much more…tractable…than before.” He patted his wife on the head. “But your cure takes an awful lot of time and buckets of cash—who’s to say she wouldn’t have snapped out of it on her own?”

For her part, Blanche seemed oblivious to the conversation that was transpiring, intent as she was on sketching the Christmas tree. Percy at last noticed the sketchbook on his wife’s lap. “That’s nice, honey. Gonna puts some colors on there? Lots of green and red?”

She looked up at him, her face blank. Eventually, she said, “Do you think I should? I was interested in the pattern, you see, the way the light—”

“Oh, yes, definitely. Christmas trees are green. With red balls. That might be good enough for a holiday card, if you color it up right.” To Dr. Elsass, he said, “Nice little scam you got going here, doc.” His voice boomed over the chittering noise of the room. “Well played.”

The guests ceased their conversations and turned to the two men. Dr. Elsass and Percy stared at each other for a long minute. At last, the director laughed out loud. “Ah, Mr. Emerson. Always a kidder, as the young people say.”

The room grew darker as the afternoon faded, with just the glow of the hearth and the  lights on the Christmas tree. When a fresh contingent of board members lumbered into the parlor, the parrot squawked, and the elderly tree trimmers equally took fright. Dr. Elsass approached the new arrivals, arms outstretched. “Come in, gentlemen. Have a hot drink. There will be ‘something stronger,’ and a fine meal presently.”

Suddenly, a passing shadow blocked the glow from the fireplace, a darkness that smelled of decaying fish, sulfur, and algae bloom. Then Berta, who’d been so calm, sank to her knees, her eyes darting about, and croaked in a wavering voice, “Dagon lives. Mighty Dagon. Dagon. Dagon. Dagon.”

The bird joined in as a chorus, “Dagon, Dagon, Dagon.”

Having no idea to whom or what they referenced, I was struck for a moment with total conviction that Berta, and perhaps the parrot, knew some secret of infinite portent. I utterly believed them, the words a carillon to my ears. I took a deep breath. This wouldn’t do at all. I’m sure it was just what Carrie had been worried about, one of us crazy people acting crazy at the normal-people party.


Buy Links:
Universal

AUTHOR BIO

Kathy L. Brown writes speculative fiction with a historical twist. Her hometown— St. Louis, Missouri, USA—and its history inspires much of her fiction.

The haunted 1920s world of the Sean Joye Investigations book series was conceived in a creative writing workshop in 2004. The idea wouldn’t go away, and Kathy published two Sean Joye novellas while working on her first novel, The Big Cinch, released by the Montag Press Collective in December 2021. The Big Cinch won the 2022 Imadjinn award for best urban fantasy novel.

After spending the pandemic editing and publishing a secondary-world young adult fantasy, Wolfhearted, Kathy wrote the next Sean Joye investigation, The Talking Cure. It will be published in November 2025. A Sean Joye short story, “The Pixie Job,” appears in the 2024 Marathonarium Anthology: Volume II.

Currently she is preparing a high fantasy novella in the Wolfhearted world for publication in 2026. Learn more at kathylbrown.com.

Author Website | Author Facebook (Personal) | Author Facebook (Author Page) | Author Instagram | Author Goodreads | Author Liminal Fiction (LimFic.com) | Author Amazon

Down the River (River City 02) by J. Scott Coatsworth #BlogTour #NewRelease #OtherWorldsInk #LGBTQ+ #Contemporary #Gay #Lesbian #Secrets

Moonbeams over Atlanta welcomes back J. Scott Coatsworth to the blog with a stop on his blog tour for the new release of the second book in the River City series, Down the River. Read on to discover in this latest installment.

BOOK BLURB

Nine years have passed since a group of strangers first met at a magical little restaurant in East Sacramento called Ragazzi. They have all been touched by its subtle magic, and have become a family.

With the tragic death of one of them, the ripples spread through the entire group, exposing secrets and revealing truths that many of them would rather not face.

Dave and Marcos are battling their own demons. Matteo seeks an embezzler at Ragazzi, while Diego struggles to hold on to his son, Gio. Carmelina fears Daniele won’t take no for an answer. And both Ben and Sam are dealing with tragic losses that have turned their lives upside down. Into the mix come a few new characters—Ainsley, a Sac State student studying to be a doctor; a mysterious stranger who is stalking someone in the group; and a few new love interests who may have agendas of their own.

It’s 2024, and the cast of River City is back. What secrets will be revealed before the last page turns?

Warnings: Death of several characters.

Series Blurb:

The River City series is a heady blend of secrets, friendships, a little bit of magic, and a bunch of Italian cooking that will warm your heart.


EXCERPT

Chapter One
Ragazzi

Ainsley Kim stared out of the window at the cars as they passed on Folsom Boulevard in a steady row of sparkling red and white, their lights scattering and twinkling like fairy dust across the rain-splattered glass. It was mesmerizing—so much life out there… and in here, as she was rudely reminded by the diner clearing his throat behind her.

“So sorry!” She spun around, reaching for the Toast point-of-sale device that hung from a custom-made pocket in her clean white apron that said Ragazzi in neat black letters. She turned her attention back to her customers. “Are you ready to order?”

The one who’d cleared his throat was a sharply dressed man in his mid-fifties—lawyer if she’d had to guess—his neatly trimmed black hair turning silver on the sides. He glared at the menu as if it were opposing counsel, squinting through his wire-framed glasses and scowling. “Damned print is so small on these things.”

His dining partner, another man in a black suit and tie, but without a hair on his head, chuckled. “You’re just getting old, Andy. Order the tagliatelle. It’s what you always get.” Bald Head offered her a warm smile. “So sorry for my partner’s behavior. Rough day in court today.”

Ainsley hid a grin. She was good at reading people. “Not a problem. So… the tagliatelle?”

Andy nodded. “Sure. With arrabbiata sauce. And ask the chef to make it a little extra spicy.”

She tapped it into the POS, feeling more like a glorified data entry clerk than a waitress. “You got it. And you, sir?”

“Don’t let him fool you. Kel knows what he wants. He just likes to play with his prey.” Andy grimaced, then managed a weak smile. “Sorry for the foul mood. I hate losing.”

Rich, white, and a lawyer to boot? You have no idea what losing is. “Not a problem.” She flashed him her best you’re the customer so I’ll pretend I like you smile.

“I’ll have the gnocchi in a ragu sauce, and an appetizer of your delightful burrata.” Kel flipped the menu over. “Add a glass of Chateau Ciel. I, unlike my friend here, had a lovely day. Signed a new artist for the gallery, a talented Korean painter named Jun Seo Jang.” His eyes fixed on her. “Do you know him?”

Ainsley blinked, caught between the casual racism of assuming that all Koreans knew each other—maybe he didn’t mean it that way?—and the fact that she did actually know them. Or of them, anyhow. Jang was one of her idols.

Customer service won out. “Yes. They are very good. I studied them in art class.”

Kel grinned. “Then you must come see his… their pieces. Sorry, old dog, new tricks. I’ll be getting the first of them next week.” He pulled out his wallet and extracted a card. “Kelton O’Malley, Red Roof Gallery.”

She took it, staring at it. It seemed to sparkle under the restaurant’s mood lighting. She blinked and the sparkle went away. She stuffed it in her pocket.

Nobody used business cards anymore. So old school. “Thank you. I’ll try to come by. It’s a bit busy, with school and work and all…” And taking care of her mother.

“Ah, what’s your major?”

“Molecular biology.” It came out automatically. Her father had wanted her to “make something of herself,” not just be another poor immigrant like himself, working at minimum wage jobs. She’d been at it so long, doing what her parents wanted her to do, that it almost seemed like she wanted it, too.

“Impressive.” He winked. “Still, it’s good to hear that you have an appreciation for the arts as well.”

She blushed. That comment hit a little too close to home. “I’ll find some time to stop by.”

“Wonderful. Jun Seo will be there next Thursday night, if you want to meet… them.”

Ainsley touched the edge of the table to steady herself. “They’ll be here… in town?” She was already calculating how she could rearrange things to be at the gallery.

“They personally supervise the set-up at all their new galleries.” He grinned. “See, that whole pronoun thing’s not so hard.”

She suppressed a snort. Boomers were always making such a big deal about it. “Let me get those orders in for you.” She gave them a small bow—ingrained behavior from two decades growing up in the Kim household—and slipped away.

“Need anything here?” she asked her next table, a young gay couple from the looks of it, who were busy staring rapturously into each other’s eyes like a couple lovestruck teenagers.

“Just some water,” the blond said, never breaking his gaze, his hand wrapped tightly around the other man’s. A single plate of pasta sat between them.

“You got it.”

A two-for-one, or twofer, they called it—when two clients shared a dish, usually to save costs.

Matteo had needed to raise prices again last month to account for inflation. Luckily Ragazzi was doing well enough that they’d expanded into a new addition, taking over the old bar next door for Diego’s cooking classes.

She twirled through the restaurant like a ballerina, checking on tables, her footsteps lighter than they’d been in months. Jun Seo Jang was coming to town. She had so many questions for them.

How did you find your inspiration? When did you know you wanted to be an artist? How did you let your parents down gently?

Ainsley Kim had a secret.

She wanted to be an artist more than anything else in the whole wide world. She wanted to create things, pieces of art that would make people frown and smile and nod knowingly as they stood in front of them, stroking their chins. Like her father did as a hobby.

She wanted to meet Jang, but she also wanted to become them.

The thought of life as a medical researcher left her cold, but her parents had invested so much in that dream, both money and hope. How could she bear to disappoint them?

Maybe it was better if she didn’t go to the gallery on Thursday. Better for everyone involved.

Right?


Buy Links:

Universal Buy Link


AUTHOR BIO

Scott lives with his husband Mark in a yellow bungalow in Sacramento. He was indoctrinated into fantasy and sci fi by his mother at the tender age of nine. He devoured her library, but as he grew up, he wondered where all the people like him were.

He decided that if there weren’t queer characters in his favorite genres, he would remake them to his own ends.

A Rainbow Award winning author, he runs Queer Sci Fi, QueeRomance Ink, Liminal Fiction and Other Worlds Ink with Mark, sites that celebrate fiction reflecting queer reality, and was the committee chair for the Indie Authors Committee at the Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America (SFWA) for almost three years.

Website | Facebook (Personal) | Facebook (Author Page) | Mastodon | Instagram | Goodreads | Liminal Fiction (LimFic.com) | QueeRomance Ink | Amazon

Chaos Kin by Sheryl R. Hayes (Jordan Abbey 03) #BlogTour #NewRelease #OtherWorldsInk #LGBTQ+ #Paranormal #Fantasy #Giveaway

Moonbeams over Atlanta welcomes Sheryl R. Hayes to the blog. Chaos Kin is the third book in the Jordan Abbey series. The release date for it was January 14th, 2025. There is a Rafflecopter giveaway at the end of the post. Good luck!

BOOK BLURB

In the town of Rancho Robles, can one werewolf protect the Children of the Wolf and the Bat? Chaos Wolf Jordan Abbey has made friends among the Black Oak Pack even though she refuses to join it. The same can’t be said of the vampires, but her life has taken a turn for the better.

That is until Enya Blevins, sister to the werewolf who turned Jordan, arrives in Rancho Robles. She wants to know who killed her baby brother and is less than impressed by the Chaos Wolf. Enya wants revenge, starting with Jordan and ending with the vampires infesting the area.

Jordan is prepared to flee, but a technicality makes her an Alpha Werewolf. Now she must stand her ground to protect her nascent Pack and those she loves.

The past has come back to bite her. Does she have the fangs to bite back?

Series Blurb:

In the Northern California town of Rancho Robles where the Children of the Wolf and the Bat share an uneasy coexistence. One werewolf woman threatens to upset that balance.

Buy Links:
Universal | Goodreads | Liminal Fiction (LimFic.com


EXCERPT

“You ready for this?”

Jordan nodded. She and Montgomery had pulled over three blocks from the entrance to the Black Oak Pack’s compound for one last quick discussion. “Got the Uber request programmed in to meet me here. If things go wrong, we run.”

Montgomery shook his head, hand tightening on the steering wheel. “No, you run.”

Jordan’s expression tightened. “I’m not leaving you.”

“Jordan, you have to run without me.” Montgomery stared at her until she looked away. “I know you’re afraid of what will happen to me. But they won’t harm me. To do so is to risk open conflict with Elder Marcus.”

Jordan bit back her response. Alpha Shane may have a vested interest in living in peace with the Elder of the Conclave of Rancho Robles. That didn’t mean that these strangers who came from far away would have the same desires. Add to the fact things were personal between Montgomery and Enya, and the odds were that they wouldn’t be thinking about insulting the vampires in the area.

She sighed and recited the plans they had come up with the night before. “If things go south, I run back to the Cataluña and wait for you or Thorn. If after twenty-four hours, neither of you show up, I ask Elder Marcus for help getting someplace safe. You and Thorn will join me once you’re able to.”

Montgomery smiled and nodded. She noticed a tear in the corner of his eye. “Hopefully, it won’t come to that.”

She didn’t bother to say that he didn’t sound like he believed it any more than she did.

Jordan closed her eyes but lifted her head as she and Montgomery drove up to the gate of the Black Oak Pack’s home territory. As if by mutual consent, neither of them spoke as Sentry Rodriguez waved them through. There was no point hashing out their plans further. In the next ten minutes, they would know if she would have to run and hide with her tail between her legs.

The silence continued as they walked to the front door. Angela opened the door before she had a chance to knock on it, focusing on Jordan instead of Montgomery. The blonde blond werewolf arched her eyebrows in a question.

Jordan shook her head ever so slightly.

Angela’s lips pressed together as she narrowed her eyes. Jordan could hear her thoughts. Why am I not surprised? Instead, she gestured them inside. “This way please.”

The entire pack was gathered, clumping together in little knots around the room. Pamela met her eyes and then turned her attention back to her conversation with Tran. Alpha Shane, Envoy Blevins, and Talespeakers stood by the cold, dark fireplace. Angela took her place with the rest of the younger people in the room. The tension in the room ramped up as the four highest-ranking werewolves focused on her and Montgomery. Alpha Shane dipped his head in greeting. “Chaos Wolf Abbey, Mr. Cooper.”

Enya was far less formal, not giving Montgomery and Jordan a chance to greet them. She assessed Jordan, head lifted so she stared down her nose. “Were you able to retrieve the fangs?”

Jordan drew herself up to stand straight and as tall as she could. “No.”

Everyone around her tensed, which she expected.

“This isn’t her fault,” Montgomery said. “She didn’t know—”

“Silence, vampire!” Enya snapped. Her focus was on Jordan as she paced forward. “It’s not completely your fault. I blame you as much as I blame him.” She nodded towards Alpha Shane. “And him.” Her gaze turned towards Montgomery.

Alpha Shane’s shoulders hunched. He shifted his weight but said nothing.

She felt her ears flatten, an impressive trick as she was in her human form. Jordan opened her mouth, trying to force her words through her snarl. To her surprise, Billy, Juan, Tran, and Maria surrounded her and Montgomery with Angela taking the point in front of Jordan. Jordan couldn’t see her expression, but the young woman stood stiffly, legs apart, and fists braced on her waist.

Confused, Jordan looked at Billy on her right, eyes wide. “What’s going on?” she whispered as Montgomery put a hand on her shoulder.

“We’re saving your skin,” he said. “Now, shush.”

Angela looked at Enya. “Jordan shouldn’t be treated as a chaos wolf. She is—”

“Angela!” Alpha Shane barked, glaring at her.

His daughter didn’t stop speaking. “—An alpha wolf in her own right.”


Universal | Goodreads | Liminal Fiction (LimFic.com

Giveaway:

Sheryl is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card with this tour:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Direct Link if unable to see the above embedded Rafflecopter: http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/b60e8d47323/


AUTHOR BIO

Sheryl R. Hayes can be found untangling plot threads or the yarn her three cats have been playing with. She is equally likely to be shooing one of them off the keyboard as she is working on her novels and short stories. In addition to writing, she is a cosplayer focusing on knit and crochet costumes.

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