Key 13: And other Stories by Rose Titus blitz with giveaway
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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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A Strange & Terrible Wonder by Nichole Louise blitz with giveaway
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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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His Beautiful Game by Peyton Lux blitz with giveaway
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His Beautiful Game
Peyton Lux
(Lanark Soccer Club, #1)
Publication date: August 11th 2026
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
My childhood crush is my injured captain… and I’m the physio secretly keeping him on the pitch.
Rafe Calder is everything I learned not to want: flashy, reckless, adored, and far too beautiful. He is also hurt, lying about it, and somehow mine to fix.
I catch the limp no one else sees, then make the dumbest deal of my life. Private rehab, locked rooms, my hands on him daily, and one rule I keep pretending still matters.
At first, he pushes because he hates being handled. Then he listens when pain scares him, lets me see the lonely man under the captain’s armband, and looks ready to break when Donovan Reid makes me smile.
Somewhere between treatment lights, late-night checkups, and one reckless after-hours mistake that turns into more, I fall. Not for the fantasy I used to worship, but for the man who finally stops performing.
Then his injury truth explodes, and protecting him could cost me everything.
Worst of all, loving him might end his career.
Tropes: Childhood crush, star player x physiotherapist, secret injury, forced proximity, forbidden workplace romance, jealousy triangle
Spice level: High / explicit
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EXCERPT:
Jealousy
I watch every second of that embrace. Her face when he lifts her off the ground, her laughter, the ease of it. Nothing between Tess and me has ever been easy.
He was a good player. I said that myself. But tonight he saved the game in my place, and thirty thousand people cheered him while I stood there feeling like a man who had started the match and somehow still lost it. Then I see him holding Tess, my Tess, and she’s smiling up at him like she doesn’t know exactly what that does to me.
I find her in the hallway outside the locker room. She doesn’t slow when I fall into step beside her, but I catch the way she worries at her lip.
“Great game,” she says.
“Is that what you said to Reid when he had his hands all over you?”
Her head jerks toward me. “I thanked him for the hug, yes.”
I stop her with a hand around her wrist. “I saw the way he looked at you.”
“He was thanking me. I cleared him to play on a calf knock.”
My throat tightens. “I saw the way you looked at him.”
Her expression hardens. “And what about you? What about the pictures of you with that woman? So it’s fine for you to do whatever you were doing, but I can’t accept a thank-you hug from a player I treated?”
“That was weeks ago,” I snap. “Before you and I—”
“I saw you at Halo.” Her voice goes cold. “The night after I came to your house.”
I stare at her. “I was with the lads. We go for beers all the time.”
“From where I was standing, you had a woman on your arm. Then you went off with her afterward. And you’ve got the gall to stand here and act jealous over three seconds in a football stadium?”
“Why were you watching me at Halo?” I demand.
“I was out with Donovan and Layla,” she says sharply. “I wasn’t stalking you.”
The room seems to tilt. “You were out with him?”
“With him and Layla. As friends.”
That lands like a punch. She steps closer and jabs a finger into my chest, and I let her. “Besides, you have no claim over me. You said mine into a mirror after a quick fuck in the gym and then showed up in the press with some other woman. And you know what? You’re right. We’re nothing, officially, so don’t stand here making me feel guilty for doing my job.”
“Don’t say nothing,” I say.
“What are we then?”
The anger in her face cracks for a second, and there’s fear underneath it. “I’ve been lying to my employer about you. I’ve filed false assessments. I’ve let you into places that were supposed to be professional, and you—”
“I haven’t touched anyone else,” I say. “Not since you.”
That stops her.
“The photos were nothing,” I tell her. “What you saw at Halo was nothing.”
Tears gather at the corners of her eyes. “You told me—”
“And I meant it.”
I cup her cheek. “You’re mine, Tess.”
She shudders when I kiss her. She lets me pull her against the wall, lets me kiss her hard enough to make the hallway disappear. But then she presses a hand to my chest and pushes back, just enough to stop me.
I break away, breathing hard. “I haven’t wanted anyone else. Not once.”
Her jaw tightens. “You’re injured, Rafe. Publicly now. I have to file a real assessment this week, and whatever this is, I can’t let it affect that report.”
“It doesn’t have to.”
“It already does,” she says quietly. “Every decision I make about your hip, your minutes, whether you play the Founders’ Cup or Donovan does—it’s all compromised because I have feelings. About both of you. And I can’t fix that, so I need you to give me some room.”
Room. For him, too.
I take a step back. Then another.
“Okay,” I say.
Her face flickers. “Rafe—”
“I heard you.” I keep backing away. “Do your job, Montgomery.”
She turns and walks off, leaving me standing in the corridor with the feeling that I’ve just done the right thing, and somehow lost anyway.
Author Bio:
Trading boardrooms for bedrooms (of the fictional kind!), Peyton Lux is now fully dedicated to writing steamy workplace romance that leaves readers utterly satisfied.
Her former life in marketing taught her how to craft compelling narratives – a skill she now devotes entirely to her steamy workplace romance novels.
Peyton lives and breathes romance, infusing her stories with undeniable heat and fiercely earned happily-ever-afters.
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The Ties that Bind by James Rosenberg 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.**
The Ties that Bind
James Rosenberg
(The Legacy of Lies Legal Thriller, #1)
Publication date: July 27th 2026
Genres: Adult, Thriller
Some families build empires. Others bury secrets beneath them.
Bill Simon thought marrying Sharon Green meant entering a powerful legal dynasty and finally proving he belonged. Fresh from his honeymoon and eager to succeed at his new firm, Green & DeWitt, Bill is handed a complex real estate transaction tied to the influential Green family empire.
What begins as routine due diligence quickly spirals into something far more dangerous.
Hidden behind layers of shell companies, offshore accounts, and falsified property records, Bill uncovers connections to cartel money, political corruption, and a network of powerful men determined to keep their secrets buried. The deeper he digs, the more he realizes the conspiracy may reach directly into his father-in-law’s inner circle—and possibly into his own marriage.
As Bill digs deeper, Sharon Green fights to protect her family’s public image while uncovering other sinister connections between her family and the drug cartel. As others question the legitimacy of her father’s enterprises, she tries to find answers about the empire she was born into.
As they uncover disturbing connections between her father and the Mexican drug lord,Sharon and Bill are trapped between loyalty and truth, ambition and survival.
And in a world where power protects its own, exposing the truth could cost them everything.
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EXCERPT:
The heat wafted above the scrubland. Three trucks waited in line, engines idling low in the darkness.
Each truck had a driver and one passenger, and together their primary responsibility was to get the trucks over the border less than thirty miles away.
Rafa Medina kicked at the dried ground as he waited for confirmation to move. They were still on schedule, but barely.
Luis Cortes sat in the passenger seat of the second truck, window cracked. A folded manifest lay on his lap. Medina tapped his window twice. Luis glanced over and gave a short nod.
The third truck’s driver shifted in his seat. Medina caught the movement and shook his head once. He could accept fear. Panic only caused mistakes.
Medina felt the vibration in his pocket. The signal, at last. He raised his hand.
As the trucks shifted into gear, the whine of their engines intensified. The first truck rolled forward, followed by the second, and then the third. They stayed in tight formation as they turned onto the paved road heading north.
Medina jogged to his Jeep, climbed in, and maneuvered his vehicle in behind them.
He considered moving to the front of the line to take control, but before he could decide, gunfire echoed from the brush to his right. The lead truck swerved, glass spraying off to its side.
The truck regained its footing, tires screaming, as it came out of its fishtail.
The second shot came from the opposite side of the road, from cover behind a grouping of bushes.
The muzzle flashes were sequenced and controlled. Now was not the time for panic. He knew immediately it was a rival crew, one that had studied the route and wanted it.
The first truck accelerated, pushing past the shots.
When a new round of shots burst from the right, the second truck was directly in front of it and caught a barrage of automatic fire in the passenger side door.
As the bullets tore through the truck, Luis jerked sideways, his body snapping against the window as glass exploded outward. The driver screamed and hit the gas. The truck lurched forward, out of the danger zone.
As the trucks moved ahead, Medina pulled out his Glock and aimed toward the brush where he had spotted the muzzle flashes. From his slightly elevated position, he fired twice, forcing the shooters back. They withdrew, retreating into the darkness.
Their message had been delivered.
Medina didn’t chase. The trucks came first.
He ran to the second truck. Blood was everywhere.
The driver was shaking, hands locked on the wheel, eyes wide. Medina yanked the door open and pulled him out.
“We have ten minutes. Your truck won’t make it to the border. Transfer the cargo. I’ll take care of Luis.”
The driver nodded.
Medina climbed into the cab. Luis’s eyes were open, unfocused. He checked for a pulse. There was none. This simplified matters.
Medina scampered to the other side of the truck and grabbed Luis under the arms, dragging him from the cab.
Ten minutes. That was all they had.
He pulled the body into the brush. He worked with his hands and a tire iron he grabbed from the back of the truck, digging quickly, ignoring the ache in his shoulders.
Medina lowered the body into the ground, then shoveled dirt to cover it. The land closed over the shape easily, swallowing it. He didn’t mark the grave and offered no words.
He crossed himself and then wiped his hands on his pants.
The damaged truck was next. Medina drove it behind a clump of bushes. No one would notice it for months. No one would care.
This was no man’s land.
The other trucks waited.
Medina jogged back to the road and waved the trucks forward. They didn’t hesitate. The second truck’s payload had already been transferred.
Medina climbed back into his vehicle and pulled in behind them.
The convoy moved north, engines steady.
Dust flew from their tires and then settled behind them.
Author Bio:
James Rosenberg is a 3rd generation trial attorney with plenty of stories to tell.
Inspired not only by the courtroom stories his father and grandfather used to tell
him when he was a child, but also by the wild adventures he’s encountered through
his own experience as a lawyer. James is fascinated by the intricate, interpersonal
dynamics of every trial he’s endured. Whether it’s the raw emotion on display in
court, the tension in the air that builds until someone wins, or the impact that a
case’s decision has on the parties involved, James is always paying attention and
keeping tabs on what’s happening.
In his debut novel, “Legal Reserves”, James flexes his creative muscle outside of the
courtroom to share his stories, with a fictional twist, through the eyes of archetypes
he knows well.
A native of Pittsburgh and a graduate of Taylor Allderdice High School and the
University of Pittsburgh School of Law, James has been a trial attorney in Pittsburgh
for almost 30 years. He started writing legal thrillers as a stress reducer and finds
this creative outlet to be a fun and meaningful diversion from his day job.
When he’s not trying cases, he’s either dreaming up his next book idea, spending
time with his wife and three kids, or both.
To contact James email Rosenberg@marcus-shapira.com or follow him on Facebook at https://www.facebook.com/RosenbergWrites/
Check out his website: http://www.JamesRosenbergAuthor.com
Please become part of my email list and get updates about my latest launches. https://subscribepage.io/fcVT4h
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Cover Reveal: Debts Owed by Glenn Dyer
Debts Owed
Glenn Dyer
(Conor Thorn, #1)
Publication date: November 1st 2026
Genres: Adult, Thriller
France belongs to the Gestapo. His wife is trapped inside. And the only way in is a shadow mission no one will admit exists.
Spring, 1943. Conor Thorn is sick of losing those he treasured. So after the woman he loves gets sent behind Nazi lines on a secret assignment, the frantic OSS agent is ready to move heaven and earth to get her home safe. And when British intelligence offers to send him to Paris on an off-the-books hunt for a traitor, Thorn jumps in with no backup, no cover, and no idea who he can trust.
Landing in a city where the Gestapo owns the streets and collaborators control everything else, the grief-hardened American moves forward one forged paper and one held breath at a time. But while he helps to smuggle downed airmen past Nazi patrols and tracks down the traitor, the one person he longs to keep alive remains cloaked in danger.
As Conor’s enemies close in, can the desperate agent snatch his beloved from death’s arms?
Debts Owed is the taut fifth book in the Conor Thorn spy series. If you like relentless heroes, wartime treachery, and stories inspired by true events, then you’ll love Glenn Dyer’s atmospheric World War II thriller.
Buy Debts Owed to unmask a double agent today!
Author Bio:
GLENN DYER is a former commercial television executive whose career spanned over thirty-five years. That career took him to cities such as Salt Lake City, Dallas, Washington, DC, and Denver. He returned to Park City, Utah in retirement in 2013 to write full-time. He is an associate member of the International Thriller Writers, the Author’s Guild and The OSS Society. Glenn attended Villanova University and graduated from Boston University. He and his wife, Chris, have three children, all of whom live too far away. Visit his website at http://www.glenndyer.net and follow him on Twitter @duffy_dyer and Instagram @glennduffydyer.
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