Hearth or Heart by Emily Lane blitz with giveaway
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Hearth or Heart
Emily Lane
(The Bowman Girls, #1)
Publication date: July 13th 2026
Genres: Adult, Historical, Historical Romance, Romance
After her father dies, Effie Bowman and her eight sisters are left penniless, homeless, and alone. Salvation comes in the form of the new custodian of the estate, Mr Thornaby. But the more she learns of Mr Thornaby, the more she realises he needs her discretion as much as she needs his security.
In her efforts to moderate the wild Mr Thornaby, she recruits the unlikely aid of ton society’s most determined widower, Sir John Callander.
As the season progresses and Effie pulls Sir John deeper into her desperate schemes to moderate Mr Thornaby, both are forced to wonder if Effie is attempting to tame the wrong gentleman.
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EXCERPT:
Of all the consequences to befall a clutch of daughters belonging to an entailed estate, this one was quite outside the common.
‘£20 a month in pin money?! ’cried Effie.
‘Each.’
Mrs Thornaby, ensconced in a cream morning gown of twilled French silk that seemed to defy her age, smiled most becomingly upon her niece.
‘That is just for your frills and affects and whatever other small accoutrements you young girls require these days, ’said Mrs Thornaby. ‘Your dresses, gowns, and hats, of course, can be drawn against my son’s account.’
‘Ma’am, I could never.’
‘Oh, yes, you could, ’said Mrs Thornaby. ‘That boy has too much money.’
Effie’s eyes flashed, and she yanked her gaze down.
Grimacing, Mrs Thornaby said, ‘So, your mother has told you a little of it, I collect.’
‘She has, ma’am, ’Effie admitted.
Mrs Thornaby looked her up and down.
‘Your mother tells me you are an exceptionally good manager.’
Now the talk of money had faded, Effie’s calm, dark eyes levelled upon Mrs Thornaby once more.
‘Yes, ma’am, it’s true.’
‘I suppose with eight sisters, borne of a mother of my sister’s temperament, you, as the eldest, should rather be forced into such a role, even if it was not of your disposition.’
A smirk crossed Effie’s features as she declared, ‘That much is true, to be sure.’
‘But men and boys are a different matter indeed.’
Effie’s hands, trying to thread a needle, paused. She set her embroidery box down and took up her cup of tea.
‘I have no brothers.’
‘Clearly, ’said Mrs Thornaby. ‘And husbands? What thoughts have you on them?’
‘Not so many, ma’am. I can scarcely imagine having one, never mind plural!’
Mrs Thornaby did not laugh. Instead she set down her teacup with a clatter.
‘As you may have heard, my son returned last night from Brighton. ’She paused. ‘My son is… a particular kind of fellow.’
Effie’s brow arched. Having heard—during the small hours of the morning—this particular kind of fellow stumble through the upstairs hallway singing about the roast beef of Great Britain, she was inclined to agree with a great many insinuations that issued from that vague sobriquet.
‘Indeed?’
‘He is now, of course, the custodian of your late father’s estate—by some contortion of family lines.’
Society in the northeast of England was sparse. Somehow, Mrs Thornaby’s son had ended up taking title to the entail of her sister’s late husband’s estate.
‘Yes.’
‘It is all that is natural, then, ’Mrs Thornaby went on. ‘That my son should marry you, to maintain my sister’s place at Barraton.’
What little of the sisterly rivalry that had been passed on to Effie permitted her to regard this piece of charity with deep suspicion. Her eyes cinched a touch.
‘With respect, ma’am, I fail to see why Mr Thornaby should want to marry me.’
‘I do not.’
Blushing, Effie picked up her embroidery box again. ‘I mean, ma’am, that Mr Thornaby must have a great many… um, admirers. I cannot see that he will mark me with any distinction.’
‘He will not, but I shall tell him he is to marry you. Likely, the novelty of it will tickle him, and he will entertain it for a while. Thereafter, it is your duty to… charm him.’
Effie touched her nose. She looked around the cavernous room.
It was an early, grey morning, but the shiny mahogany and silk furniture, glossy wallpapered walls, and great sash windows shone under the blaze of three gilded hearths.
‘Oh. I see.’
Mrs Thornaby’s eyes followed Effie’s, and she grimaced.
‘We are family, Miss Bowman. Now more than we ever were. My son represents Barraton. He is Barraton.’
Effie’s jaw quirked.
‘To put things plainly, my dear, it has lately come to my attention that my son is very much in need of the companionship, temperance, and governance that a wife must, to some unions, bring.’
Mrs Thornaby paused.
‘Now, am I saying that my son is bereft of the faculties required in choosing or acquiring a wife? I am not. But one cannot but put more faith in one’s own family, especially a family so interconnected.’
Effie bowed her head. ‘It would be in my best interests, indeed, to… govern Mr Thornaby—as a wife or no.’
‘But as a wife especially, ’Mrs Thornaby reiterated.
Author Bio:
Emily Lane writes sweet, clean Regency Romance perfect for fans of Georgette Heyer, Sophia Holloway, and Sophie Irwin. Hearth or Heart, her debut, launches July 13th. By day, Emily is a Management Consultant in the Lifesciences industry – she hopes her novels have just as much chemistry as her job! She lives in Thailand, which would be inconvenient but for the hot weather.
The Bowman Girls is Emily’s first Regency romance series, with 3 books currently planned:
Hearth or Heart (out now)
Past or Promise (Late 2026)
Duty or Devotion (Late 2026)
Website / Instagram / Facebook / Newsletter
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After Dark by Rose Titus blitz with giveaway
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After Dark
Rose Titus
(The Vampire Next Door, #2)
Publication date: February 23rd 2018
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance
In Night Home: The Vampire Next Door Volume I, the fact that vampires truly exist was almost accidentally made public when a story presented as fiction seemed all too real to an amateur vampire hunter, who at the end, was made to remain silent about the secrets he discovered
But it doesn’t end there: the tale circulates as far as the west coast, where a small community of vampires have been quietly hiding; and to them, also, this story is too close to reality to be just a fantasy. But while they take the time to decide whether to attempt contact with their own kind so far away, they have their own local problems to deal with.
A savage and barbaric serial killer, suspected of being a vampire, lurks in their own city, stalking the innocent at night. Will the vampires be able to stop the killer before they are blamed for his acts of extreme horror?
And that’s not all. A beautiful yet tragic and suicidal young woman wanders like a lost angel from out of the darkness and into their midst, hoping a vampire will make her end swift and easy.
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EXCERPT:
Alex drifted slowly through the back door to step down into the darkened entrance to the well-kept old building’s lower levels. On the upper floors there was an exclusive restaurant that catered to the wealthy and sophisticated; below, on the ground level there was a dance club, which attracted a completely different crowd of people—many with spiked purple hair. But under the dance floor, underground, there was served another kind of people. This dining area was not well known to many above ground.
He surveyed the area. A few tables were empty, but most tables had one or two people sitting and talking. And there she was, in the corner, alone, waiting for him. His sister Alexandra looked up and nodded to acknowledge him. He went to her table and sat down. “You wanted to see me?”
“Yes,” she put her fine crystal glass down. “Jim Ellison left a message on my answering machine. I was surprised to hear from him after so long a time. He said, ‘I know you’re asleep but I’ve got some shocking news.’“
“What is it?” he knew that Jim called everything shocking, incredible, amazing, mind-boggling. That was his profession. He wrote for the tabloids, the ones that reported on flying saucers and Bigfoot.
“So, I kept calling, and finally got him,” she sighed. Alex noticed that she sighed a lot lately. “Says he’s got something he wants us to see. Well, you know, the business he’s in, he’s always looking for unusual things, searching the web for news of the odd.”
“Has he finally captured the Sasquatch?” he smirked. He did like Jim, but also enjoyed having a laugh at his line of work. That was how they met. Jim had been allowed to do “an article” for his so-called newspaper, the kind of tabloid newspaper people picked up in the supermarket checkout line and took home to read just for fun. The article was titled “Civilized Vampires Come Out After Dark.” It was agreed by the community to allow him to publish it because no one believed anything in that sort of newspaper anyway.
“No, he hasn’t captured the Sasquatch, and he hasn’t had a ride in a flying saucer either. He thinks he may have found more people like us.”
“Really? How? Someone write the editor of that cheap paper?”
“No. It’s… well, you know how some colleges have magazines that students write for? I guess nowadays they’re all online. Jim searches the internet for anything he could use, and he found this article by a college student on the East Coast. It’s a story about vampires, but not the movie kind. The characters in her story, they are very much like us, Alex. Living, breathing… and all the rest, stop aging after thirty, and then gradually lose tolerance for the sun, live to be about three hundred. He told me over the phone about it. I haven’t seen it. I asked him to send it, but he said he might be travelling through, so he might come by and drop it off. “
“Oh, well, we’ll wait until he shows up, then.”
She lowered her voice. “But that’s not the only reason I asked you to come by.”
“What?” He hoped it wasn’t bad news; her tone seemed serious.
“Someone seems to be watching us, Alex.”
Author Bio:
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.
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You Had Me at Meow by Gracie James blitz with giveaway
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You Had Me at Meow
Gracie James
Publication date: July 7th 2026
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Romance
Some girls get fairy godmothers. Abby Thompson gets a talking cat with a British accent and absolutely zero chill.
After her latest blind date—arranged by her loving (but relentless) mother—ends in a concussion, a wine-soaked dress, and enough humiliation to power Manhattan, Abby decides she’s done with dating. Forever.
Too bad her cat, Mr. Whiskers, has other ideas. And he’s suddenly sharing them. Out loud.
“Honestly, Abby, your taste in men is almost as concerning as your taste in sweaters.”
His mission? Fix her train-wreck love life and help her land her dream job. His qualifications? None. He’s a cat. His methods? Questionable at best.
But somewhere between the disastrous first dates, ruthless office politics, and the unexpectedly charming veterinarian who might actually be worth shaving her legs for, Abby starts to wonder…
Is Mr. Whiskers a miracle? Or a catastrophe with whiskers?
Either way, her opinionated feline isn’t backing down. And if Abby wants her dream life, she might have to trust the one life coach she never asked for. Her cat.
You Had Me at Meow is a sweet, laugh-out-loud romantic comedy about finding your voice, risking your heart, and one very determined cat who refuses to let his human settle for anything less than purr-fection.
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EXCERPT:
Before I even reach the fridge, Mr. Whiskers has settled into his favorite spot on the couch while I gather the essentials of a proper pity party: a pint of mint chocolate chip, my largest spoon, and one of Dottie’s cosmic brownies. Ahhh, perfect.
Curling up next to my furry little roommate, I pull our softest blanket over my legs and queue up one of our favorite movies. Maybe watching someone else’s embarrassing moments will make me feel better about my own.
As the opening credits roll, I crumble Dottie’s brownie over my ice cream, letting out a contented sigh. At least dessert never disappoints.
“Why can’t I find love like in the movies, huh, buddy?” I ask, running my fingers through his soft fur. “You know, the kind where tripping in front of your dream guy leads to true love instead of a concussion.”
Mr. Whiskers blinks up at me, his eyes reflecting the TV’s flickering light.
“I mean, look at tonight,” I continue, digging into my brownie-ice-cream creation and regretting nothing. Well… except maybe going out in the first place. “Mom sets me up with someone who’s supposedly perfect for me, and he turns out to be a complete jerk. And then when I finally meet a genuinely nice guy, he’s my cat’s veterinarian and he’s already taken.”
I scratch under Mr. Whiskers ’chin, earning a faint purr.
“Maybe I should just give up on dating altogether,” I muse. “I mean, who needs romance when I have you, anyway? We could be two crazy cat ladies together. Well, one crazy cat lady and one crazy cat, but you know what I mean. No more terrible blind dates, no more falling head over heels, literally, for the wrong guys. Just us, some yummy snacks, and the sweet escape of a good movie night. What do you think, huh, buddy? Sound good?”
“Darling, that sounds like the best idea I’ve heard all night.”
Author Bio:
Gracie James lives in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and their sweet rescue cat, Pinky, and absolutely loves the rain. When she’s not writing swoony, laugh-out-loud rom-coms sprinkled with a touch of magic, she’s usually hiking up a mountain or eating chocolate like it’s a personality trait. Her creative peak occurs somewhere between “I should go to bed” and “well, it’s basically morning now,” and she considers sunrise more of a suggestion than a deadline.
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Children of Eternity by Macaulay Christian blitz with giveaway
**This post contains Amazon affiliate links which will allow me as an associate to earn a small commission on any purchase made through the link of the products I share. This commission in no way changes the pricing of any items for the buyer.**
Children of Eternity: Being the First Part of the Apocalis
Macaulay Christian
Publication date: March 10th 2026
Genres: Adult, Science Fiction
Thirty years ago, an impossible transmission pierced the cosmos. Hidden within it were instructions for a device no one fully understood—an extragalactic Telegraph built to answer the call.
On a distant world in neutral space, humanity and its former enemies resolved to build the device, a rare moment of unity and a calculated gamble that shared purpose might overcome politics.
The answer is not what anyone expected.
The colony is devastated. Reality fractures. Technology fails. People vanish without a trace—among them soldiers, citizens, and voices no civilization can afford to lose. Aboard the warship Banterra, Captain Heron Agathon is dispatched into the unknown to search for survivors and the truth behind the signal.
Beyond the galaxy’s edge, something older than civilization is observing humanity’s first steps into the uncharted—measuring what it will become when fear, power, and principle collide. The answers lie in the dark between stars. And the truth behind the signal is older—and nearer—than anyone suspects. There is no going back.
The human adventure is about to begin.
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Bookshop
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EXCERPT:
P R O L O G U E
holindrian returns
A shimmering light fell all around Holindrian, hoisting him high into the sky, his feet dangling beneath. First, he could see just the top of the palace as he rose through the dense black smoke. A little higher and he could see the city itself. Fires burning, consuming whole wards at a time. The sounds were muffled, but he knew there would be the clanging of swords, the whizzing of arrows, and the miserable, painful screams of wretched, dying souls. Higher, Holindrian continued to rise. Boats had sunken in the harbor. The fighting on the rocky hills
surrounding the town seemed to have calmed. A haboob traveled in a northeasterly direction, a transitory wall of brown, choking death.
The light continued to shine. All the colors of the rainbow streamed down, carrying him up, up into the clouds. He was higher than the mountains! There seemed to be no limits to his ascent. The definitions, the contours, the distinctive features of the land blurred together. Muted, people vanished into minute dark specks, fields became strokes of green, the clouds white wisps overlaying the canvas. He could see the whole of the blue world from up here….
Holindrian stood alone in a hallway with concave walls of a featureless white. He could not be certain what the material was. It was surely not any metal familiar to him. Everything seemed pristine. Not a blemish or scuff mark to be found. Feeling his eyes wince, he thought the white of the walls too bright, beyond adept description by man. No marble stone or cloud or snowflake compared. They seemed to be pulsating. Flashes of an even more intense white coursed through their…veins? As though the walls were alive, as though this vessel were alive.
The ceiling was black. Not just black but the absence of all light, the deepest shade of black imaginable. It contrasted brilliantly with the sterile surfaces of the walls. The black was not uniform in its composition, but rather composed of discernible shades of navy and violet and…were those stars? Stars sparkled and glimmered, specks of diamonds in a cave of darkness. It was remarkable how similar the ceiling was to the night sky.
When he looked down, and saw that the floor mirrored the ceiling, Holindrian first thought his heart might permanently lodge itself in his throat. The feeling of panic dissipated quickly, as he reassured himself something solid and firm was indeed beneath his feet.
“His reaction was much like your own.”
Holindrian looked up. He recognized that voice. “Uilliam?”
Uilliam’s long hair fell more than halfway down his back, wavy and rigid as though carved from marble, an ethereal white bearing just the traces of its past golden color. His face narrow and accented by sharp features framed by dark eyebrows. The eyes though, those magnificent eyes, were like windows into the past as well as portals to the future. They were an electric blue, the pupil an orb of mystical energy. Holindrian could see it all, the whole of the history of Uilliam’s race encapsulated within those eyes.
The Before…the Aeternam’s eyes could not or would not reveal the secrets pertaining to the Before, though there were shadows, vague, indefinite figures standing on the edge of history…something or someone had knowledge of the Before, and they were out there, somewhere. Uilliam had met them.
What could be seen was the ending that gave rise to humanity’s beginning. Space and time emerged from oblivion, a singular fixed point of eternity. There was no sound; it had not yet been invented. There was light of untold intensity, rings of magenta and sapphire clouds that swirled, intermingling, mixing. Then came flashes, all different shades of reds, oranges, yellows, and blues, rippling throughout the nebulous clouds like the pattering of rain on a pond. A wave of warm, tender, and loving heat washed over him. Holindrian could feel the fiery heat as birthing contractions on a boundless scale shuttled the first generation of galaxies into existence, infusing them with life, spiraling engines of genesis. Ah! There was the sound. It had finally caught up. It came as a rushing roar, a wind sweeping through streets and between buildings just as it would through ageless trees and over sky-kissing mountains.
Author Bio:
Macaulay is a graduate of the University of Arizona where he received his bachelor’s degree in political science with an emphasis in American government and international relations as well as a minor in classical (Greco-Roman) history. He is also an alumnus of the fraternity Phi Delta Theta, where he served in a variety of leadership positions, including two terms as president. Macaulay received a master’s of legal studies from Arizona State University’s Sandra Day O’Connor College of Law before beginning a career in the commercial construction industry. He has worked on a variety of projects, from airports to data centers. Macaulay lives in Dallas, Texas with his wife and their two dogs. In March 2025, Macaulay released the science fiction novel “Holindrian & The Human Revolution”. He is currently pursuing a doctorate in public administration where he is researching the impacts of public education and policy shifts on the industry and investigating recommendations to rectify the on-going skilled labor shortage across the country.
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Lady Petra and the Wolf by Anna Valleria blitz with giveaway
**This post contains Amazon affiliate links which will allow me as an associate to earn a small commission on any purchase made through the link of the products I share. This commission in no way changes the pricing of any items for the buyer.**
Lady Petra and the Wolf
Anna Valleria
(Lords Fall First, #2)
Publication date: July 2nd 2026
Genres: Adult, Gothic, Historical, Mystery, Romance
In Victorian London, Lady Petra, the daughter of the powerful and manipulative Earl of Kemberley, has spent her life as a silent pawn in her father’s political games. While the ton sees a perfectly poised debutante, Petra is secretly a woman of industry who runs a sanctuary for abused servants in a derelict London theatre.
Julian, the Viscount Wolfridge, known to the world as Wolf, is a cynical rake with a secret heart of gold and a childhood spent on the Bristol docks. When he proposes a fake courtship to Petra to stir her indifferent betrothed into action, he doesn’t realize he is stepping into a web of secrets far deeper than his own. As Petra’s world of mystery and Wolf’s path of redemption collide, they must decide if a marriage born of a trap can ever survive the truth.
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EXCERPT:
She shut her mouth abruptly, the sparks in her eyes extinguished as she retreated once more into the mask of a composed, distant lady. He despised when this happened, as it did ever so often when he approached her. He lived for the moments he could tease her, to break her composure, to see those eyes light up, even if it was in disdain or scorn.
Wolf knew himself to be an unrepentant rake, undeserving of John’s friendship or loyalty. Despite this self-knowledge, a fierce, uncharacteristic longing arose in him at that moment: he wished for someone to argue so passionately on his behalf, to proclaim him a good man.
Remembering himself, Wolf discarded such a maudlin thought.
“I am not obligated to explain my motivations to you, Lord Wolfridge.” Her tone was meticulously polite, yet beneath the kindness, he detected a veiled reproach that ignited his blood.
“And yet…” he went on as if he had not heard her. “Your white knight is not here. Nor has he been here in a very long time.” In her eyes, a battle of pride, hurt, and anger raged, and for a moment, he nearly regretted his casual cruelty. Yet, there was a purpose behind his malice.
“You more than anyone know he is busy.” Petra spoke quietly, her words clipped. “I have long wondered why you do not share the same sense of industry as Lord John.”
Indolent. The word lurked in their conversation and Wolf again regretted pushing this issue to the surface. A lord does not dirty his hands with work. He takes what he wants and leaves the work to others.
Ignoring his father’s tedious voice, which always stirred a confusing mix of feelings, he redirected his thoughts to his best friend, John Longley. John possessed all the virtues he lacked: he was honorable, kind, and diligent. He would despise him if John weren’t like a brother to him. Why did the notion of Lady Petra marrying John trouble him so much? It was none of his concern.
Yet, he couldn’t let it go.
“Has he not communicated that to you himself, Lady P?” he asked, relishing the way his lips popped on the P. He could swear he almost saw a tick of her jaw at his use of the sobriquet bestowed upon her by the gossip rags.
“As we have established, Lord John is very busy, my lord. He does not have time for frivolous goings on of the ton,” she said more firmly this time.
“And yet, my lady, I can see the small seed of doubt this might cause you.” He watched her jaw almost tick again, and for a brief moment, savored the victory of being right. “Does his absence not pain you, Lady P?” He wasn’t entirely certain of the outcome he wanted from his teasing, but he relished the rare opportunity to be able to read her expression.
Her eyes met his, and he was struck again by the intensity of her gaze as it searched his face. He felt her assessing his intent, seeking any hint of malice or desire to hurt her. In that moment, he understood that such an aim was entirely absent from his heart. Wolf could not quite articulate the purpose of his banter, but an instinct told him Petra and John would not suit. It was patently clear that John possessed not the slightest inkling of the gravity with which Petra had regarded their supposed understanding.
John’s ignorance was not due to neglect; in fact, he was one of the few gentlemen who didn’t seem inclined to constantly leave his wife behind. Rather, he had been distracted by some persistent, unspoken melancholy, as though his mind and heart were fixated entirely on someone or something else. Wolf suspected, however, that the cause of this melancholy was not Lady Petra, given that the look of longing vanished whenever her name was mentioned.
Staring into Petra’s mahogany eyes, a plan came to him. Devious, perhaps, a bit underhanded, but one that would prove to Petra that she and John would not suit.
“Let me court you,” he blurted out.
For once, Lady Petra’s entire face showed what she was thinking as her mouth fell into an almost perfect “O.”
She really was rather adorable. Where did that thought come from? “Adorable” was not in his lexicon. As she began to regain her composure and start to form a reply, Wolf followed his initial, impulsive request before she could respond. “Not a real courtship, mind you, just something to shake Lord John into the parson’s trap. Fearing he might lose you should hasten the nuptials, yes?”
In truth, this ruse would not hasten the betrothal, but help free John, and ultimately free Petra.
Why he wished her to be free, he was not going to examine too closely.
Author Bio:
Anna Valleria is an award-winning historical romance author who believes that everyone deserves to see themselves on the page. Her mission is to write steamy Regency and Victorian stories featuring socially active heroines and devoted heroes that reflect windows, mirrors, and sliding glass doors for all readers, including characters of different sizes, backgrounds, abilities,
and neurodiversities. Her novel The Baron Takes a Wife was the 2025 winner of the Hearts Through History Romance Through the Ages Contest in the published Georgian/Victorian category.
Currently residing in a beautiful, historic city in the southeastern U.S. with her family and a rescue pup. If she’s not writing, she’s likely in a coffee shop, walking with her son or dog, or trivia with her team, Stone Cold Jane Austen.
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