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Worse Than Any Bullet
Felicia Watson
(Fidelia Mysteries, #2)
Publication date: August 25th 2026
Genres: Adult, Mystery, Thriller
Everyone thinks their mother is murder but for mafia-family renegade Lucia Scafetti, that’s the literal truth.
When she laid her hitman father to rest, PI Lucia Scafetti thought she’d finally escaped her family’s criminal clutches. Ten years later, her estranged mom blows into Philly for a short visit and within days a friend’s dad is brutally murdered and Lucia is being menaced by her cousin and his fellow mafiosi. After her mother disappears, everyone: foes, friends, and free agents, descends upon Lucia in search of the thumb-drive her mom stole from a Caribbean drug lord. Lucia learns the hard way that the criminals besieging her will gladly kill to get their hands on that thumb-drive.
With the help of an intriguing ex-soldier, Lucia employs her skills, both detective and deadly, to solve the murder and unlock the secret of that enigmatic thumb-drive before it claims another life, be it her own – or that of her recently re-discovered son.
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EXCERPT:
“Someone’s in there.”
Lucia snapped into action, ordering Robbie to stay in the car with the dogs and retrieving her Glock from the secret compartment in the back seat of the Chevelle SS 454. She shook her head, indicating to Robbie he wasn’t getting an immediate explanation about the compartment and then stealthily approached the house.
Lucia decided to go around back and enter from the kitchen. The deadbolt had been defeated and there was no sound from the alarm system. This was no ordinary burglar.
Weapon ready, she crept into the living room where she could discern the muffled footsteps of someone descending the stairs. Lucia pointed her gun at the source of the noise and at the opportune moment, flipped on the lights. A hefty, masked and armed man froze on the fourth step as he realized he was facing a cocked gun.
Lucia warned, “If you’re thinking of trying anything, you better be a better shot than I am. Which is…unlikely.”
The man held his right hand out to his side, his gun loose. In a weirdly thick voice, he rumbled, “Hey, I’m not looking for trouble.”
“Breaking into my house armed with a military-grade semi is a really strange way to prove that.”
He chuckled and moved the gun slightly in a non-threatening manner. “Military grade? Nah, this is just a—”
“A Beretta Cx4 Storm. Which means you are definitely prepared for trouble.”
Rather than refuting her point, he urged, “I just want the thumb-drive, the real one. The one your mother stole from me.”
Not recognizing the term ‘thumb-drive’, Lucia silently contemplated whether this guy could possibly be looking for a body-part from someone her mother had killed. “You worked with my mom? Who are you?”
“I’m not wearing this mask ’cause I’m ugly. Who I am is none of your business. Just hand over the drive and no one gets hurt.”
“Seeing as I have the drop on you, that’s a toothless threat,” Lucia declared. “And I don’t know what it is you’re looking for, but you’re not gonna find it here.”
“For your sake, lady, I hope you’re lying.”
“And why is that?”
“Because I’m not the last person who’s gonna come looking for that thumb-drive. And I’m sure as hell not the most dangerous.”
Nodding at his gun, she countered, “Hard to believe. And I don’t even know what a thumb-drive is let alone—”
“It’s a computer thing,” Robbie announced from somewhere behind her back, his presence until that moment completely undetected. “You use it to—”
“Robbie?!” Her eyes remained trained on the masked man as Lucia barked, “What the hell! What are you doing here?”
“I was worried about you so I came to check. Don’t worry, I left the dogs in the car. You know, so they won’t get hurt.”
“But it’s okay if you get hurt?!”
Taking advantage of the momentary distraction this argument provided, the man on the stairs suddenly leapt over the banister and dashed towards the kitchen.
Lucia followed but he was too quick for her. Standing on the back deck, listening to his footsteps retreating into the darkness, Lucia briefly considered giving chase. She quickly discarded the idea. Not only was there Robbie to think of, but Lucia was loathe to incite a gunfight that might frighten Mrs. Schwartz, the elderly widow who occupied the twin house attached to her own.
When she got back in the house Robbie held up his backpack. “I got it.” He took a deep breath and then said, “Wow, that was….”
“Terrifyingly dangerous?” she offered, while surveying the wreckage around her. The intruder had obviously conducted a very thorough search.
“Nah, exciting! I knew it was safe when I heard you handling that guy like a pro. Otherwise, I would’ve stayed in the kitchen. I swear.”
Lucia sighed heavily and impulsively put her free arm around his shoulder. “Rule number one, Rob? When guns are drawn? The situation is never, ever, safe.” She pulled him to face her and stared intently into his eyes. “Capish?”

Author Bio:
Felicia Watson started writing stories as soon as they handed her a pencil in first grade. She’s especially drawn to character driven tales, where we see people we recognize, people who struggle with their mistakes and shortcomings, acknowledge them, and use that knowledge to grow into wiser human beings.
When not writing, Felicia spends her time chasing after her not-so-brilliant, but darling and beloved dogs, is chased by her truly brilliant, darling and beloved husband, is known to friends and family as an amateur pastry chef, and still finds time for swimming and her day job as a scientist.
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Wanted: Rogues and Bards
AJ Sherwood & Jocelynn Drake
Publication date: September 11th 2026
Genres: Adult, Fantasy, LGBTQ+, Romance
Welcome to E.V.I.L! (Every Villain is Legendary.)
Mission Guidelines:
- Be evil. (Except, y’know, when someone’s in trouble, or might need a rescue out of an open grave, things like that.)
- Adopt new members. (At least, Fenric would love to keep the sexy bard, but would Lirion even want to join them?)
- Retrieve Fenric’s mother’s stolen treasures (and beat up the heroes who stole them if possible)
- Rescue Lirion’s sister and wait, what do you mean breaking up a sex ring and helping a village from being overrun by finfolk LOWERED our villain rankings overnight?
Future Goals: climb the villain rankings, find a lair, get revenge, and trash talk The Box
Welcome and try not to die (but if you do our necromancer will raise you).
This book contains: questionable baking practices, Tub Time, and emotional support pecs.
Tags:
LitRPG, gay romance, shapeshifting, high fantasy, possessed clubs, accidental poisonings, chosen family, heroes vs. villains, band of brothers, a shapeshifting rogue, an elf necromancer, a loquacious barbarian, a warlock with a talking stick, a half-merman pirate, a poisonous Puppy, quest of vengeance, Fenric’s not sure how he became the mother hen of the group, Maxie doesn’t need more seduction lessons, Lirion begs to differ, Tub Time is sacred, incompetence can be sexy, apparently, High Seas Hijinks, another example of a bard f*cking his way in AND out of trouble, if villain bad, why hot?, calling all passengers: Hop on board, the shenanigan ship is about to sail! Skelebabies
Trigger Warnings: sex ring (that they break up)

Author Bios:
AJ Sherwood believes in happily ever afters, magic, dragons, good men, and dark chocolate. She often dreams at night of delectable men doing sexy things with each other. In between writing multiple books (often at the same time) she pets her cats, plays with her dogs, and attempts insane things like aerial yoga.
She currently resides in Michigan with aforementioned dogs and cats. Being in snow country gives her the excuse to stay inside and watch bl dramas, which suit her perfectly.
Author links:
Website / Goodreads / Facebook Page / Facebook Group / Instagram / TikTok
New York Times Bestselling author Jocelynn Drake loves a good story, whether she is reading it or writing one of her own. Over the years, her stories have allowed her to explore space, talk to dragons, dodge bullets with assassins, hang with vampires, and fall in love again and again.
This former Kentucky girl has moved up, down, and across the U.S. with her husband. Recently, they’ve settled near the Rockies.
When she is not hammering away at her keyboard or curled up with a book, she can be found walking her dog Ace, or playing video games. She loves Bruce Wayne, Ezio Auditore, travel, tattoos, explosions, and fast cars.
She is the author of the urban fantasy series: The Dark Days series and the Asylum Tales. She has recently completed a gay romantic suspense series called The Exit Strategy about two assassins falling in love and trying to create a life together, as well as a MM paranormal romance series featuring a family of vampires.
She has co-authored with Rinda Elliot the following series: Unbreakable Bonds, Ward Security, Pineapple Grove, and the Weavers Circle. She has also co-authored with AJ Sherwood the Scales ‘N Spells dragon series. She can be found at JocelynnDrake.com.
Author links:
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The Champagne Crush
Caroline O’ Connell
(Les Femmes Series)
Publication date: August 20th 2026
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
Perfect for fans of Emily in Paris—with the sophistication of the wine world and a slow-burn, opposites-attract love story. A glitzy PR expert and a traditional wine president clash on a high-stakes global launch—where rivalry, reinvention, and romance collide.AUDIOBOOK PRODUCTION DETAILS:
- Format: Unabridged Audiobook
- Performance: Single Narration by acclaimed British stage actress Karen Gundersen
- Audio Features: Fully voiced character accents and deep emotional range
- Primary Tropes: Workplace Romance, Opposites Attract, Slow-Burn
- Audiobook Vibe: High-tension with a romantic, high-heat fade-to-black intimacy level (the intense build-up is on the page, but the camera pulls away before explicit details)
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EXCERPT:
Chris McDermott’s Family Ranch in Napa, CA
(Dinner after an all-day TV shoot in the vineyards)
When they were finishing the fig tart dessert with freshly whipped cream from their dairy, his dad leaned over to Chris. “Why don’t you show Catherine our current operation? It’s not much yet, but she’ll be able to say she saw a world class winery in its early stages.” He stood up and grabbed his plate. “I’ll help Maura clear the dishes. You two can take off.”
Chris didn’t need prompting. He was feeling inexplicably drawn to Catherine. The temperature outside dropped quickly, so he bundled her up in one of his warm leather jackets. It was three sizes too big, which only made her look more adorable.
They stepped onto a moonlit path and walked a short distance to the temporary winery: an aluminum-sided structure that held rudimentary winemaking equipment next to cases of empty bottles. A walk-in cooler held samples of the wines they’d already produced laid horizontally on racks. On the far end of the room, a partial wall separated the “office”—an old metal desk, a long table with office equipment and a computer, one file cabinet, shelves brimming with books and magazines, and a large bulletin board with articles and graphs clipped on it.
“I know it doesn’t look like much yet,” Chris said. “But it’s the genesis of our dream. My dad and I have been working toward this moment for many years, the chance to create our own family wine.”
He held out his hand. “Let’s go sit outside. It’s such a clear night, we should be able to see the stars.”
They sat on hay bales near the barn, and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders to keep her warm. He pointed up to the sky. “Most nights you can see the constellations and major stars, unless there’s cloud cover.” He pulled her closer. “There’s Venus . . .”
“Named after the Roman goddess of love and beauty . . .” Catherine chimed in.
Seems the beauty is right here, sitting next to me. “How about you, Catherine Reynolds? What are your dreams?”
She tucked her hands into the jacket pockets. “Unlike you, my dreams have changed over time. When Vanessa and I were teenagers, we went into modeling.” She made a face. “It’s not as glamorous as people think. Now, I’d like to pursue a career in the hospitality sector.” She sighed. “Still working that out.”
“I’m sorry I doubted you in the beginning. I think you’re a wonderful asset to the company.” And to my life.
He stood up and silently offered his hand, pulling her up to face him. An owl hooted nearby, momentarily jarring him from his intent to steal a kiss. He took a deep breath and gazed into her upturned face. Her long-lashed eyes blinked as she looked into his questioningly.
“We’d better get going.” He turned her around and draped his arm over her shoulders as they walked back. When they reached the guest cottage, he gave her a warm hug and walked off. She’s too appealing. I’m falling fast.

Author Bio:
Caroline O’Connell is the author of numerous travel guides, including Affordable Paris Hotels. The Champagne Crush is the first novel in the Les Femmes Series. In conjunction with the launch of the audiobook version, the ebook is discounted to $1.99 (from $9.99) on all platforms. Her website is https://carolinestraveltips.com/.
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Key 13: And other Stories
Rose Titus
Publication date: October 6th 2017
Genres: Adult, Dark Fantasy, Fantasy, Horror
Rose Titus, author of The Vampire Next Door Trilogy, now brings together a collection of her best short stories. Here in this book you will find tales of vampires, werewolves, witches, ghosts, space aliens, and even a few angels. These stories answer questions such as where do we go after we die? What is the future of this planet? And what is the future of humanity? There are also stories of young runaways, old hippies, worried mothers, troubled families, love gone horribly wrong, selfish billionaires, people who find themselves suddenly homeless, old men with their recollections of days gone by, and girls gone wild! There may even be a murder or two.
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble
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EXCERPT:
One day Doris found out that the old hospital building did in fact have a morgue on the lower level. This got Doris all excited and she wanted to visit the morgue just to see what it was like down there. Naturally, I had to go too. I don’t know why I felt I had to go to the morgue. Just to be brave, I suppose.
Doris went to find Agnes, who of course was the oldest staff person on our ward. Agnes had probably worked at the state hospital the longest of anyone. She knew her way around. You could really learn a lot from a co-worker like Agnes. One of the best pieces of advice Agnes gave me was on the first day I started; she was taking me up to the floor where I would be permanently assigned, and said, “Now listen, in this place, you keep your eyes and ears open, and your mouth shut.” And she was right. This advice can apply to a lot of workplaces, I suppose.
But on this day, Doris went to pester Agnes about letting us visit the morgue.
“Oh come on, can we, please?”
Agnes frowned at Doris, which was not unusual, as she generally frowned at everyone. “You want to what?”
“Go to the morgue!” Doris grinned like a big kid and pointed at me, “Rose wants to go!”
Thanks, Dorrie, “Yeah. Okay. If you guys go, I’ll go along too . . . I guess.”
Agnes frowned again, “Okay, but you two better keep it shut about this, you hear me! We are not supposed to be down there, so you both keep quiet.”
“We promise,” I said.
But Doris kept giggling.
The tree of us went down the elevator together. It dawned on me that maybe Doris wanted to see the two headed baby that was supposedly kept down there. Yes, that’s right. A state hospital is a place filled with strange things. I learned that pretty quickly, and one of those strange things was a two headed fetus that they say was stillborn and preserved in a glass jar.
At the turn of the century—I had learned while working there—the state hospital was a hospital for the poor. At that time, there was a maternity ward. That’s how the two headed baby got there, that is what was said about it—that the sad creature had been born there and didn’t survive, or was stillborn.
Now Doris is nudging me, “There’s a two headed baby down there, you know.”
“Yeah, I heard.”
Agnes gave us another look, “Don’t you two never say nuthin!”
“I promise,” I said, and I meant it.
“Nuthin!” repeated Agnes.
She led us to the reception area, and asked for “Key 13.” I didn’t say anything, but I thought to myself, well, the people who run this crazy dump have a sense of humor, at least.

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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Key 13: And other Stories Blitz
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A Strange & Terrible Wonder
Nichole Louise
Publication date: August 18th 2026
Genres: Adult, Historical
Eleanor Dare, daughter of Roanoke’s Governor John White, has no choice but to accompany her overly ambitious husband Ananias and her idealist, yet inexperienced father to England’s new colony. Manteo of Croatoan wants nothing more than to cast off his association with the English and return home. Haunted by memories of an unexplainable event, he sets out to find the truth about what was brought to Roanoke by the English two years before as a weapon against the Spanish.
Based on real people who vanished from history, Eleanor and Manteo form a taboo friendship as they work against unseen forces to end the violent and otherworldly attacks upon the settlement. In the midst of this survival scenario, both Eleanor and Manteo—once powerless and marginalized in England, emerge as unlikely leaders of the ravaged colony.
Blending 16th century science, occult, and the impacts of early colonialism, A Strange and Terrible Wonder reimagines what became of the Lost Colony.
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EXCERPT:
Prologue
“All down the church in midst of fire, the hellish monster flew, and passing onward to the quire, he many people slew.”
– Rev. Abraham Fleming, 1577
August 4, 1577
Bungay, England
At first, the congregants believe the slight rattling is only wind insisting upon the church door. A sudden summer tempest. Rain begins to patter above the nave, the sound not altogether unpleasant—soothing, even. A woman closes her eyes and exhales the stress of the morning as she focuses on the rhythm. Her peace is soon jilted by the growing tempest above, for the rain is now a wonderful force with no less violence than abundance. Her eyes snap open and roll to the vaulted ceiling. The great, forceful torrent empties above in what she imagines as glassy sheets pouring from the eaves. A low grumble of thunder. A child presses close to his mother. The two men kneeling at the altar do not flinch in their prayer; one for an abundant harvest season to pay his debts and another for a wife ailing in childbed.
Lightning flashes in brilliant brightness through the clouded, stretching windows. Silhouettes are carved out of the pews. A gust through the crack beneath the front door snuffs out the altar candles as if the tempest is compelling the congregants to sleep. They are all at once aware of
the palpable darkness, so much so that one person cannot perceive another. The only light discerned by the congregants is not from the god hanging above them, but from the intermittent great flashing of fiery bolts.
The roar of the storm is so powerful now that the congregants shift with discomfort. A chill tightens the base of their spines as sweat springs on brows with each fearful heartbeat. The men kneeling in prayer do not relinquish their positions, though they see little, and their knees begin to ache against the flagstones. Instead, they press their eyes and hands tighter and pray now for the light to return. The only answer they receive is a terrible crack of thunder with such force and might that the congregants begin to believe doomsday has come.
The doors are thrown open as if by a blast of gunpowder. Lashing wind explodes down the nave, spraying hot rain onto the necks and backs of the congregants who dare not turn from the cross. The woman who had before held a moment of peace, presuming a gentle patter could not turn tempest, winces at the scalding sensation of boiling water against her bare skin. The church seems to quake and stagger as the scent of glowing iron, not unlike a blacksmith’s shop, permeates the darkened church.
The child clutches tightly to his mother when, amid twin lightning strikes, a great shape dashes down the nave toward the altar. The drops of rainwater on the flagstones sizzle as the thing passes in a hot rush of a blacksmith’s bellows. And with another flash of fire, the child sees it—they all see it: a great black dog with one ember glowing eye running with incredible haste. The woman muffles her scream as others bend beneath the flimsy pews as if a mere board of wood will save them from this devil.
The praying men feel great heat against their backs as if a bonfire has been lit before the altar. A sacrifice. Liquid fear runs down their legs, and still they dare not open their eyes nor pry their rigid hands apart. In another crack of thunder and lightning, the great black dog wrings both men’s necks backward in one clean instant. Its movement is so violent, so swift, that the dead men still kneel in prayer.
The child gasps when the lightning illuminates the whites of dead eyes in the heads bent unnaturally back. He buries his face in his mother’s skirts as her nails dig into his narrow shoulders. The beast turns on the congregation, its low growl indistinguishable from thunder, like a thousand carts moving across cobblestones. It stalks down the aisle, its bellows as hot as the summer sun’s rays. The congregants close their eyes against the darkness, press their slick palms together, and pray for their god to save them in his very house.
The beast chooses a man who dares glance up, for he believes he can slip out the door and escape this hell. Instead, the beast’s shining obsidian claws grip the man’s back in so forceful a manner that it is as if his entire body becomes drawn together and shrunk, as if it were a piece of leather scorched by hot fire. Wordless, he topples over with limbs trailing smoke.
The beast shifts into shadow, and the woman sitting next to the burned but still living man stumbles away from the charred flesh and wheezes for help. The rector, who has finally slid out of the shadows, catches her as she falls from the pew. He prays over her—whispering first, then increasing to test the roar around them. He exhorts the terrified congregants to prayer, and in their extreme distress, do so in darkness. The hot wind and scalding rain lash them, for the tempest has now fully invaded their sanctuary. Some congregants are frozen in terror, save their lips flapping desperate prayers, while others try in vain to crawl for the door.
In a flash, the beast materializes on the main beam above the congregants. Its searing talons set the old oak to smoldering as if coaxing a fire. Its ragged back chars the angel carved into the ceiling. The demon swings down through the church. Three lightning bolts follow the dog jumping from one man to another, then a lad, killing all three instantly. The dog dashes from the crumpled boy, and a deafening crack as if the earth has split in two cleaves the roof, and with it, the steeple. The cascade of stone rumbles down the side of the church, and for one
striking moment of terror, a woman cries out that hell has opened to swallow the church whole.
The dog bounds for the next man. He dives away, yet not before his hand is burned by the scalding creature’s touch. In shock, the man lifts his charred hand to the burning sensation where his ear used to be. The creature blasts through the church doors, leaving a trail of scorch marks in the wood. The mischief thus wrought, the beast flies with wonderful force out of the churchyard in a hideous and hellish likeness.
Like a decimated forest in the aftermath of a windstorm, the congregants are left quivering. It’s clear to the man with the burned hand and missing ear that there are forces at work mightier than God, who could not protect his devout followers in His own house. Dazed, the man staggers out of the ruins with his compatriots. He looks to the rapidly clearing sky and resolves to find someone with knowledge of these unseen forces—and how to master them. A conjurer with the influence to pursue the arcane unhindered. What other reason could there be for such hell if not as a path to Providence for England? He will accept no other explanation.

Author Bio:
Nichole Louise is a speculative historical fiction writer and book reviewer (NicholeLouise.com). Raven Rock (2023), a prequel to The Legend of Sleepy Hollow, was recognized by Writer’s Digest, the Historical Fiction Company, and the CIBAs. Her articles and book reviews have appeared in the Journal of the American Revolution. Her second title, A Strange and Terrible Wonder (2026) is a historical folk horror tale exploring the Lost Colony of Roanoke. When she’s not writing, she enjoys reading, gaming, and volunteering at Philadelphia Animal Welfare Society.
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A Strange & Terrible Wonder Blitz
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