Take Some Tahini (Real Werewolves Don’t Eat Meat 06) by Karenna Colcroft #BlogTour #NewRelease #OtherWorldsInk #LGBTQ+ #Paranormal #Gay #Romance #Giveaway

Moonbeams over Atlanta welcomes Karenna Colcroft to the blog. In their 6th installment of the Real Werewolves Don’t Eat Meat series, Take Some Tahini released on July 11th. There is a $10 Amazon gift card Rafflecopter giveaway at the end of the post. Read on and good luck!

BOOK BLURB

Tobias Rogan never wanted to be a leader. But here he is, the Anax of the United States, ruler of all werewolves in the country. Only two weeks after winning the rank in a challenge fight against his senile predecessor, Tobias and his mate Kyle are still adjusting to their new reality when a frantic call alerts Tobias to the massacre of nearly half the wolves in a pack in North Dakota–including the pack’s Alpha and Beta.

An investigation reveals that the wolves responsible for the attack are from Canada. Tobias reaches out to Silas Creighton, Anax of Canada, and finds someone like-minded in wanting peace between the wolves of the two countries. At Silas’s invitation, Tobias and his mate Kyle, along with their new guard Quinn Boucher, sole survivor of the North Dakota massacre, travel to Nova Scotia to put an end to the conflict between the American and Canadian werewolves. But not all wolves are interested in peace–and not all want Tobias to survive the trip.

Warnings: violence, gun violence, discussion of past sexual abuse, homophobia

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SERIES BLURB

Kyle Slidell didn’t move to Boston expecting to be changed into a werewolf. But that’s what happened. He can’t control whether he shifts at the full moon, but he can damn sure continue being vegan–even in wolf form.

Tobias Rogan, Alpha of Boston North Pack, never expected to fall in love with anyone, let alone a man. A male Alpha is not supposed to have a male partner. But when he meets Kyle, he’s immediately attracted. And after Kyle is changed, Tobias realizes the truth: Kyle is not only his partner, but his mate.

The werewolf world isn’t a simple place, and Kyle and Tobias are thrown into the middle of conflict within and among the packs of the United States–a conflict that extends all the way to the top of the werewolf hierarchy. Can they and their love survive what they face?

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EXCERPT

I debated knocking and decided to just try the doorknob. Kyle had better hearing than the rest of us. He knew I was here. If he didn’t want me to enter the apartment, he would have locked the door.

He hadn’t.  The knob turned easily, and I pushed the door open and entered the living room that had been mine for decades.

The light in the room was off, but the kitchen light was on. I set down my bag and walked slowly into the other room. And there, I found my mate.

Seeing Kyle sitting there, at the same table in the same apartment where our relationship had grown, felt like a knife in my heart. I’d found him. But the way he looked at me almost made me wish I hadn’t. I’d never seen such pain and anger in his eyes.

His eyes mirrored my own emotions. Pain at how he’d left me, not a word to me, not even speaking to me when I reached out. Rage at being abandoned by the one person who had sworn never to do that.

I didn’t know whether to hug him or beat the shit out of him. I did neither, just stood in the doorway, fists clenched, waiting for him to fucking say something so I could.

“Hey,” he said.

“Hey.” I went toward the other chair but stopped. If I got too close to him, I might lunge across the table and strangle him. I closed my eyes just long enough to let an image of the ocean form. It didn’t calm me as much as usual, but at least it washed away the urge to hurt Kyle for hurting me. Which was good. I would never hurt Kyle.

I had before. I hadn’t meant to, but I had. And I’d sworn I never would again.

I took a deep breath and opened my eyes. “You’re here.”

“And the sky is blue, grass is green, and werewolves have fur.” He folded his arms. “You found me. Now what?”

His tone was completely flat. No anger, which would have been a good sign if he’d shown any other emotion. But there was nothing. He didn’t want me there. I could feel that through our bond, which was actually a good sign. The bond was still intact. But the way he spoke, the way he looked at me, sent my temper on the upswing again. How fucking dare he be a sarcastic asshole after what he’d done to me?

I gritted my teeth and forced another long, slow breath. “We talk. You tell me why you left, and we decide if we can fix it.”

“And if we can’t?”

“Then at least we talked to each other!” My voice rose, and I didn’t give a shit, even though Kirk could hear and probably everyone in the other two buildings could as well. “You just took off, Kyle. You didn’t say a damn thing, just took off. I was worried.” My eyes watered, and I blinked a few times as my anger ebbed. “I love you.”

“You have a weird way of showing it.” He sighed. “Sit down, would you? Unless you’re trying some Anax intimidation tactic on me.”

“I’m not.” I sat and leaned my elbows on the table. “How could you do that? How could you just leave without saying a fucking word?”

“I didn’t know what to say. You would have told me not to go. And I wouldn’t have gone. And I would have kept dealing with all that shit.”

“What shit?”

“You know.” He waved. “I’m a weakness for you. I shouldn’t exist or whatever. Those assholes back in California.”

“So you fucking walked out on me because of them?” I was so furious I was shaking. “You left as soon as I was gone. You knew you were going. You were gone by the time I called you, and you didn’t say a goddamn word. How could you do that?”

“I should have.” This time, emotion filled his tone. “I’m sorry, Tobias. I just…I needed to get the fuck out of there. And I knew you would have told me not to go. I didn’t want to do this.”

“Do what?”

“This.” He gestured toward me. “Argue. Process our feelings. I just wanted to get away from the homophobes and the memories. Living in that house…I’m guessing you have some decent memories of the place. You went there for years for the national gatherings. A couple weeks ago was my first time being there, and I spent most of the gathering in a goddamn cage, Tobias.”

I felt like he had jammed a blade into my heart. Involuntarily, I took a step back. How had I not realized? I knew all too well what trauma could do, but I hadn’t even considered how Kyle must feel waking up every single day in the place where he’d been dragged away from me and locked in a tiny basement cell.


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Giveaway:

Karenna is giving away a $10 Amazon gift card with this tour:

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AUTHOR BIO

Karenna Colcroft lives just north of Boston, Massachusetts, and has been in love with the city since childhood, though she has yet to encounter any werewolves, vampires, or other paranormal beings in her travels. At least none that she knows of.

Karenna is a polyamorous, nonbinary human who lives in Massachusetts with her husband. She also has two adult children and three “bonus” kids, four grandchildren, and two and a half cats. (Half in terms of time the cat lives with her, not in terms of the cat itself…)

Author Website | Author Facebook (Personal) | Author Facebook (Author Page) | Author Amazon

@MyFamHrtBookRvw Cover Reveal: “Do You Believe in Magic?” by @SusanSquires #MagicissoSexy #Itsinyou #BelieveinMagic

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It’s A Brand New Cover For:

BOOK INFORMATION

TITLE – Do You Believe In Magic
SERIES – The Magic Series
AUTHOR – Susan Squires
GENRE – Contemporary PNR
PUBLICATION DATE – April 7, 2012
LENGTH (Pages/# Words) – 302
PUBLISHER – Indie

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BOOK SYNOPSIS

Tristram Tremaine has never fit in with his large and boisterous family. They believe they carry a magic gene that comes alive only when they fall in love with another who carries that gene. After disappointing his parents one too many times, Tris, the bad-boy brother, hits the road on his cycle, drifting away from his destiny.

That is, until he meets Maggie O’Brian, a spit-fire rodeo rider with a strange ability to calm wild horses. Maggie lives on the road too, avoiding relationships. Her mother left her, the boy she loved left her, even her dog left her. The last thing she wants in a man is a tomcat with “love ‘em and leave ‘em” written all over him.

But the connection between Tris and Maggie is instantaneous. After a mysterious accident nearly kills Tris, he and Maggie must learn to believe in their destiny and each other to stay one step ahead of those who will do anything to prevent them from claiming it.

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EXCERPT

The sickening crunch of metal was audible even over her Ford’s squealing brakes. Two objects flew almost over her hood in an arc of spokes and.…
Oh, God. The other flying object had a helmet on. Her truck swerved as she struggled with control. The big rig’s engine roared to life and it barreled away into the night. The semi driver must have felt the impact. The smell of burning rubber and brake lining filled her nostrils. Her chest hit the steering wheel as her truck screeched to a stop.
For a long minute she just sat there, trying to get her breath. Her sternum hurt. But it was kind of a vague feeling. The highway was empty. The semi was only fading red taillights in the distance. Her breath came fast and uneven. How had she not seen that truck? And why didn’t the driver stop to help? Help.…
The guy on the motorcycle.… Nobody could have lived through that. Could they?
What to do? No cell coverage out here. She craned around to check the highway. No lights in either direction. Oh, boy. She was going to have to get out and look for the rider. Hands shaking, she pulled her rig slowly off to the shoulder. She swallowed past a lump in her throat and got out of the cab into the cool air of the high desert night. She had to steady herself with a palm on the side of her Ford. Her knees were wobbly. She took a couple of panicky breaths.
Get hold of yourself. You weren’t the one hit, for God’s sake. She leaned back into her truck and popped the glove compartment. The flashlight felt solid in her hand. She flipped it on and began walking back, swinging the beam. It wouldn’t be him. It couldn’t.
Low moaning drifted up toward her. She swallowed. Moaning is good. At least the rider isn’t dead. She cast her light down the shallow embankment. It caught a twisted mass of black and silver metal. The cycle’s front wheel was canted at the wrong angle. It spun almost silently.
She stalked ahead, determined to be angry at being put in this situation, not weak or timid. She really, really didn’t want to see what that lump was in the sagebrush just beyond the bike. The flashlight stuttered over leather, helmet, jeans, boots. Uh-oh. One leg had an odd angle in it.
I won’t think about that. She breathed in and out through her mouth and stumbled over the edge of the asphalt, sliding down the sandy dirt. As she got closer, she quit fighting her instincts. It would be her beautiful biker guy. She knew it. She shone her light onto the figure.
Did I have to be right? He blinked against the light, the green of his eyes startling. They were swimming right now. He raised one hand ineffectually to block—what? Her? Did he think she was the one who’d hit him and was coming to finish the job? One leg was clearly bent at an unnatural angle below the knee. Was that something white poking out of his jeans? Bad. Very, very bad. She battled her rising gorge. Damn it, Maggie! You’re strong. Anger helped. Damn the asshole driver of that big rig. And damn her motorcycle guy for being in this situation.
His cheek was scraped. Blood dripped toward his jawline. Lip split, chin scraped too. “It’s Maggie,” she said stupidly. “That truck hit you.” Understatement of the year.
“Truck?”
Of course he’d hit his head with a fall like that. Probably just as well he didn’t remember. She pushed through sagebrush and knelt in the dirt. This close she could smell the rich, metallic scent of blood. “You … you need an ambulance. I’ll … I’ll.…” What? What could she do?
“You, uh, you feel any pain in your back or your neck?”
“Just …” His voice was a croak. He cleared his throat and started again. “Just the leg.”
“Well, at least you can feel your extremities. Could be worse.” Better to make light of it. “Let’s get this helmet off.” She released the chinstrap and gently lifted the helmet. “That okay?”
“Yeah,” he whispered. His eyes closed slowly and reopened, as if he couldn’t quite get it together to blink.
She tossed the helmet behind her. “Look, I can go for an ambulance. I figure you’re only alone out here for a little over an hour. Maybe three hours total to get you to the ER. Or …” She almost couldn’t offer it. “If we can get you into the truck, I can take you. Maybe an hour and fifteen total to the ER at Washoe Med.” She shrugged helplessly.
“Gee, what should I choose?” he said, lips tight. He seemed more aware now.
“We could screw you up worse trying to get you into my truck.” Truth in advertising.
“In ten minutes I’ll start to feel this,” he said through gritted teeth. “I don’t wanna be alone. Call me chicken.”
“I wouldn’t call you that.” He must know how painful getting to the truck would be. She looked up to the road. How the hell would she get him up the embankment? “Okay. How about I get my loading ramp? You roll on it and I drag you up the embankment?”
“You got a horse in that trailer to pull it? I’m six-four, two twenty-five. Plus the ramp.”
“You could push with your good leg,” she said doubtfully.
He rolled his eyes to her. “You’re what, a hundred pounds?”
“A hundred and ten, all muscle.” Well, a hundred and six. That rounded up to ten.
“Get real.” In the baleful glare of the flashlight his pale, sweating face looked green. “I can hop if you can get me up.”
That would hurt like hell. “Your funeral.” Not the best metaphor. “Let me get the truck.” She scrambled up the bank, trying not to think too far ahead, and ran for her truck, fumbled with the keys, and backed it up to where the cycle had gone over the edge.
As she slid down the bank again she could see that he’d pushed himself up on one arm. His other arm hung limp from his shoulder. Not good. He hung his head. “Go away,” he rasped. Then he vomited into the dirt. She turned away lest her own stomach rebel in sympathy. Poor guy couldn’t even wipe his mouth with one arm out of action. She stripped off the flannel shirt she wore over her tee and knelt beside him.
He turned his head away, but she cupped his cheek to pull him back around. The jolt that shot through her was like she’d touched a battery cable. Well, not quite. The charge was definitely sexual. What the hell was that? Slow down, girl. You’re kneeling in the dirt next to an injured guy who just lost it all over the desert. Not exactly sexy. She set her lips and wiped his mouth and then used the other sleeve to wipe the sheen of sweat from his forehead.
“We’d best get to it,” he gasped.
She surveyed the situation. Okay. Damaged shoulder was on the opposite side of the broken leg. Don’t think about how much this is going to hurt him.

AUTHOR BIO

Susan Squires grew up among the giant redwoods of California. She thought she was being practical by changing her major in college from theater to English literature. Immersed in a PhD. Program, she slowly realized that none of her graduating friends had work. So she dropped out after receiving a Master’s degree to take a paying job in the business world.

As an executive in a Fortune 500 company, she returned to her love of writing while continuing to hold her day-job, much to the amusement of her fellow executives. Her novel Danegeld, had already been purchased by Dorchester by the time she accepted a Golden Heart for Best Unpublished Paranormal Manuscript from Romance Writers of America. It was the first of an eclectic group of historical and contemporary paranormal stories known for their intensity. Body Electric was named by Publishers Weekly one of the ten most influential paperbacks of 2002, for blending romance and science-fiction. Book List compared No More Lies to the works of Robin Cook and Michael Crichton, but it was also a Rita finalist for Best Published Paranormal Romance by Romance Writers of America.

Susan’s Companion Series for St. Martin’s Press, continued to garner attention with admiring reviews and several visits to the New York Times Bestseller List. Publishers Weekly named One with the Shadows a Best Book of the Year, and several of the series received starred reviews. Her books have won the many regional contests for published works of paranormal romantic fiction.

Susan no longer has to use tales of romance and adventure to escape budgets and projects. She finally left her day job, and researches and writes her books at the beach in Southern California, supported by three Belgian Sheepdogs and a wonderful husband named Harry who writes occult mysteries as H.R. Knight.

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