Friday, December 20, 2024
Desire In The Mountains Release Blitz
Wednesday, December 18, 2024
Inked in Blood and Memory
Inked in Blood and Memory
Allison Ivy
Publication date: December 3rd 2024
Genres: Horror, LGBTQ+, New Adult
Recluse Sophie Vanguard’s winter cabin retreat turns ominous when blue flowers mysteriously appear. They’re everywhere. On her front porch, in kitchen cabinets, and even on her pillow. It isn’t long before chilling whispers echo in the halls, and her journal repeats seven unsettling entries.
Enter the bloodied and beautifully eccentric Ly Thi Ren. Though Ren seems familiar, Sophie refuses to believe the girl’s insistence that they are trapped inside a book.
In a land of fiction, truth and lies blur together, clear decisions are marred by doubt, and shared family trauma lurks just below the surface.
Can Ren and Sophie make it out alive? Or will they end up nothing more than words inked in blood and memory?
With elements of gothic horror, splatterpunk, romance, and fantasy, Inked in Blood and Memory is a self-aware LGBTQ+ horror that wraps its clutches around the reader and doesn’t let go.
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo
—
EXCERPT:
You never forget your first ritual sacrifice. So why had I? That seems like something you’d remember. It’s not something most American families gather for.
Hey, Má. Could you pass the rau răm? Oh, and what time is the sacrifice tonight?
And yet, I had forgotten. I had forgotten the little things, too. My mother’s laugh, her abrupt chortles that often devolved into giggles. My childhood nickname.
We eat pho the night our own parents sacrifice one of my best friends. It’s weird what sticks with you after years of trying to forget. We eat in silence, though I haven’t yet realized the reason for the solemn mood. My nine-year-old brain doesn’t quite grasp the idea of “sacrifice.” I can’t wait to wear my new ceremonial cloak. I begged my parents to let me wear it through dinner, but they refused.
“It’s too special,” they say. “You don’t want to ruin it, do you, con gái?”
No, I don’t want that. Still, my eyes wander to the piece of clothing that hangs on the coat tree next to the front door. The intricate symbols fascinate me. The only other place I’ve seen them is on the book. Not just any book. The book.
I get to see it on special occasions during the four months out of the year our family guards it. The other eight months are split between two additional families. My best friends’, Sophie Vanguard and Jeremy Berg-Nilsen.
We’ll join them later for the ceremony or the “thanksgiving,” but not that Thanksgiving. We are not pilgrims, but our three families are special. Chosen. And today, Jeremy is the most special.
“Ông xã, are you sure this is the only way?” Má squeezes Ba’s arm.
Ba remains quiet for so long I almost ask him if he’s heard Má. I’m not sure what she means by her question or why it’s gotten even quieter than before.
Ba answers before I speak. “It’s too late to back out. Maybe we could have years ago, but not now. This is how we keep our family safe.” He kisses my mother’s hand and stands to clear the plates.
I knit my brows together. Why are they so serious? It’s like they’re sad. But it’s the day of the thanksgiving. They should be happy.
Later that night, I beam proudly in my cloak with the strange symbols, relishing the feel of the velvet hem between my fingertips. Incense burns in a corner, permeating the air with a smoky aroma that I’ve always hated, but it reminds me of the days we celebrate the four equinoxes.
The adults hug and talk amongst themselves excitedly. All but Mrs. Berg-Nilsen, Jeremy’s mom. She stands against the wall, keeping to herself. Her long blonde hair covers most of her face, but I can tell her cheeks are wet.
I ponder this as I sit cross-legged on the antique rug with Jeremy in his family’s living room. We sip Capri-Suns and talk about what we think will happen in a few minutes.
“Happy birthday, Jeremy,” Sophie says after arriving with her parents and barreling through the adults’ legs. She holds a cloak that matches mine out behind her as she runs like she’s a superhero or a bat and plops down on the rug between us.
“Thanks, Sophie,” Jeremy mumbles, staring at his Capri-Sun.
Of the three of us, Sophie is the most frenetic. I think that’s the word Ba used. The adults are always hiding the sugar from her. She channels her chaotic energy for good most of the time. At school this past week, a couple kids from our grade cornered Jeremy. Sophie took me by the hand and came to Jeremy’s aid, not letting up until the kids backed off.
“Why is your mom crying?” I ask Jeremy.
His eyes move from his drink to his shoes, and he tugs at the laces. “Dad says she’s happy, but she won’t look at me.”
“Grownups are weird,” I say, watching Jeremy’s parents lead the rest into the kitchen.
“I think I did something real bad,” Jeremy says.
The door swings closed, and I’m on my feet, ignoring Sophie’s questions and drawn to the conversation happening behind the closed door.
Author Bio:
Allison Ivy writes under a pen name and grew up reading a book a day. She graduated from Penn State with a B.A. in English and a Creative Writing certificate. She currently lives in Connecticut and listens to far too many show tunes and DVD commentaries. The Dragon and the Double-Edged Sword is her first novel.
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A Christmas Dream Book Blitz
A Christmas Dream
Shanna Hatfield
(Hudson House Holiday, #1)
Publication date: November 14th 2024
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Holiday, Romance
He came to build the house of his dreams, but found a home for his heart.
After an extensive search for the ideal location to build a house he’s spent years designing, Brant Hudson knows he’s found the perfect site the moment he sets foot on the land near Silver Bluff, Oregon. However, frustrating delays leave him laboring alongside the very crew he hired to finish the house in time for Christmas. His work leads the woman who catches his eye to believe he’s a carpenter rather than the owner of the grand manor.
Holland Drake grew up on a farm, but she aspires to secure a position as a housemaid at Hudson House. While delivering lunch to her brother at the worksite, the door opens to a job when Holland encounters a strikingly handsome carpenter whose charm captivates her. Soon, Holland discovers the enchanting man is none other than the owner of the house and her new employer.
As the holiday season arrives amid a flurry of excitement and possibilities, Holland and Brant face choices that could change their lives forever. Will fear hold them back from stepping into the future together, or will their Christmas dreams of love come true?
A Christmas Dream is the first book in the Hudson House Holiday series of wholesome, heartwarming Christmas romances full of the joy of the season.
—
EXCERPT:
Another thirty minutes passed, during which time Brant envisioned thick slices of smoky ham encased between fluffy biscuits hot from the oven as he worked. He was just about to suggest to Remington they take a break for the noon meal when a woman as pretty as any Brant had ever encountered breezed into the room carrying a large basket covered with a blue-checkered cloth.
“Denver! I thought I’d never find you in this colossus of a house. I saw Colin outside, and he said you were in the library, but so much has changed since the last time I was in here, I thought I might wander around lost until you starved to death.” The woman’s gaze shifted from the carpenter on the second floor, taking in Brant and Remington as they hastily stood. “Oh, hello.”
Denver scrambled down the ladder where he’d been working on the trim at the top of a bookcase. Brant was surprised he didn’t fall and break his neck the way he skipped the last four rungs, using just his hands on the sides of the ladder to slide to the floor. It was a trick Brant intended to have Denver teach him another day.
“Holland, I didn’t know you were coming today. I would have met you outside.” Denver glanced nervously from the young woman to Brant, and then back to the fetching female as he raced down the spiral staircase.
The woman shrugged. “We wanted to surprise you.”
Did Denver have a wife and children awaiting him at home in Silver Bluff? In the three years of Hudson House’s construction, Brant had gotten to know the names of every worker and thought he had a thorough mental list of those who were married and those who were not. How had he overlooked Denver’s family? Especially when the man had such an attractive wife?
Shiny brown hair she wore pulled back from her face, fastened with a ribbon at the nape of her graceful neck, fell in glorious waves to her waist. Freckles splattered a narrow, upturned nose. Her bottom lip, fuller than the top, rested in a natural pout that was most alluring. Her brown eyes snapped with intelligence and interest when they landed on Brant again. Her features were delicate and decidedly feminine, and she owned such a happy countenance, it made Brant want to smile just being in the same room with her.
Denver Drake was a most fortunate man if the woman holding a basket from which delicious aromas emanated was, indeed, his wife.
“Who might this be, Denver?” Brant asked, taking a step closer to the couple, curious and oddly interested in the answer.
“Holland Drake,” Denver said, taking the basket from the woman and giving her a slight nudge forward.
A wave of disappointment washed over Brant. So, she was married to Denver.
“My sister,” Denver continued.
The desire to raise his fist and cheer was almost more than Brant could contain, but he managed to tamp down his victorious feeling and school his features into what he hoped was a welcoming expression. The lovely woman was not married, at least not to Denver.
“Miss Drake,” Brant said, closing the distance between them and taking her hand in his. He raised her slender fingers to his mouth, pressing a kiss to the back of her hand while holding her gaze.
Her eyes widened slightly, though he could see curiosity lingering there, and she quickly pulled her hand away. “I haven’t seen you working around the house before. Are you new?”
It was on the tip of Brant’s tongue to tell her the truth. To say he was the one who would eventually live in the house that had once been a dream scattered across multiple sheets of paper. Instead, he decided he wanted to get to know this woman, not as the owner of a fancy home, but as one of the many men helping to build it.
“I’m not new, but help was needed in the library today.” That wasn’t a lie, but the stark truth. He and Remington would likely contribute countless hours of physical labor if the house was to get finished by his own self-imposed deadline prior to his sister’s holiday arrival.
“Mister …” Denver started to speak up, but Brant gave him a brief shake of his head along with a warning look. The young man swallowed hard and nodded once in understanding. “Mr. Hudson is hoping to be able to use the library soon. It will also serve as his office, and he’d like it to be the first room completely finished. That’s why we’re all working so hard to make that happen.”
Author Bio:
USA Today Bestselling Author Shanna Hatfield writes sweet romances rich with relatable characters, small town settings that feel like home, humor, and hope.
Her historical westerns have been described as “reminiscent of the era captured by Bonanza and The Virginian” while her contemporary works have been called “laugh-out-loud funny, and a little heart-pumping sexy without being explicit in any way.”
When this farm girl isn’t writing or indulging in rich, decadent chocolate, Shanna hangs out with her husband, lovingly known as Captain Cavedweller. She also experiments with recipes, snaps photos of her adorable nephew, and caters to the whims of a cranky cat named Drooley.
To learn more about Shanna or the books she writes, visit her website http://shannahatfield.com or find out more about her here: linktr.ee/ShannaHatfield
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Forgive Me Father
Forgive Me, Father
Erica Jaden
(The Don Series, #1)
Publication date: June 30th 2025
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Mafia, Romance
Camilla Santore was born with Don Traditions.
She is the eldest daughter to Don Santore and has been betrothed to Philip Solomon since the age of ten.
On the day of her marriage she catches her future husband in bed with her best friend and decides to run away from her wedding day, a grave mistake, as the merger that would’ve advanced her family inside the Don clan solely rested on this marriage.
Alberto Pontisello, also known as the White Rabbit, has reached more than his hundred kills and will take over the Don clans after his father.
However, he just discovered that the woman that was set to be his wife since before his birth broke a very sacred tradition. Refusing to marry her is not an option, but he is the White Rabbit and breaking rules is something Alfonso is really good at.
Camilla and Alberto met by luck on both their wedding days and went into a business agreement to marry each other.
Will the Pontisellos accept Alberto’s new wife, and will Camilla be able to handle the Pontisellos as a Don leader’s wife and Alberto’s very dark erotic fantasies?
Author Bio:
Erica Jaden is born and raised in South Africa where she’s married to her first real love, a wonderful, supportive husband.
She adores crafting worlds and creating soulless male characters who are remorseless and relentless when it comes to love, and the unfortunate heroines who fall for them.
When she is not writing, you can find her either cuddled up on her reading chair with a good story wishing she could jump into one of her morally grey worlds, or doing something highly creative.
Her stories do come with at least two pages of CW’s, TW’s & kinks. Lot’s and lot’s of kinks, so you are warned.
Brian and Mina’s Holiday Hits
Brian and Mina’s Holiday Hits
Kitty Thomas
Publication date: December 18th 2024
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Dark Romance, Romance
“Be honest with me, Brian. Are we going on a cross-country killing spree?”
“I’d hardly call it a spree.”
Brian Sloane is a pure psychopathic monster… to everyone but Mina.
She was looking for a good man to scratch a particular itch but instead ended up bought by the violent enforcer of a submissive training house.
Against all odds, the villain became her hero. She was the light to his dark until the lights went out, and the darkness inside her came out to play.
Now they’re both killers, chasing the blood lust, running toward their demons, each hit job more dangerous than the last. From a twisted Easter hunt, to an explosive Fourth of July, from a deadly masquerade ball, to an even deadlier Krampus run, culminating in the Do or Die Valentine’s Day Kill that will either seal their doom or their happily ever after.
Do killers even deserve a happy ending?
—
EXCERPT:
It’s after dark when we arrive at the Windsor Estate. The heavily guarded iron gate extends around Drake Windsor’s massive property which seems to go on for miles. I grip Brian’s arm and lean in to whisper in his ear as we walk along the well-lit path up to the front door.
“What about weapons?” I whisper.
“No weapons,” he says. “They’ll pat us down and send us all through a metal detector inside.”
“Then how in the f**k are we going to do this? Are you planning to kill him with your bare hands?”
Brian shrugs. “I could. He’s too refined to get his own hands dirty. He’s old money.”
“What does he do? Besides hiring assassins to kill all his enemies.” You’d think Brian would have listed this man’s profession on the murder wall.
“Oil magnate.”
“Is that even still a thing?”
“Apparently,” he says.
“I thought you’d tell me he was in the tech industry.”
Brian laughs. “I said old money.”
“Fossil fuel. Checks out.” Dinosaurs are for sure old.
I stop talking as we get closer to the house. It’s so big, even the word mansion doesn’t quite cover it. The security detail are all big burly guys wearing suits and electronic ear pieces. They give us both a once over, their eyes staying on me a bit longer than is actually necessary.
The first one pats Brian down, and then goes for me, but Brian closes a tight grip over the man’s wrist.
His voice is low and calm when he speaks. “Elvin, I swear to every power living and dead that if you touch her, you will not survive to see your daughter’s first Christmas.”
The guard swallows hard. “I have orders…”
“You have metal detectors. You and I both know that’s the real security. This pat down business is just security theater—a display of Windsor’s power and nothing more. You think about whether it’s worth your life to participate in this charade.”
He nods. “Go on in, Mr. Sloan.” Then he nods at me, “Ma’am.”
Author Bio:
KITTY THOMAS writes dark stories that play with power and have unconventional HEAs. She began publishing in early 2010 with her bestselling COMFORT FOOD and is considered one of the original authors of the dark romance subgenre.
To find out FIRST when a new book comes out, subscribe to Kitty's New Release List: KITTYTHOMAS.COM
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Monday, December 16, 2024
Faking The Face off
Faking the Face Off
Anne Kemp
Publication date: January 29th 2025
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Contemporary, Romance
There’s a reason you shouldn’t fake date a friend—because the biggest mistake you’ll ever make might just be falling for them… and NEVER ever wanting to let them go.
Anna: As the assistant to the coach of the River City Renegades, my life is a whirlwind of schedules, crisis management, and saving the day when things go sideways. I love my job, but sometimes I wonder if there’s more for me out there.
Then, I discovered my dad needs help. I’ll do anything to support him—even if it means stepping out of my comfort zone. So when the team’s publicist decides Ollie Decker, my long-time friend and the Renegades’ star defenseman, needs a fake girlfriend to boost his image, I volunteer. After all, it’s just pretend, it pays, and who knows Ollie better than me? But as the lines blur, I start to realize there’s more to Ollie—and us—than I ever let myself see.
Ollie: Being on the ice is easy. Off the ice? Not so much. Apparently, I’m not “relatable” enough, and the team wants me to soften my tough guy image with a fake relationship. When Anna Denault offers to step in, I figure this’ll be a breeze. But somewhere between staged date nights and late-night strategy sessions, I stop seeing Anna as just my rock and start noticing the spark that’s been there all along.
Now I’m wondering if the biggest risk of my career isn’t losing her as a friend but losing her entirely.
She could be the biggest mistake I’ve ever made…but also the only one I’ll never regret.
Faking the Face Off is a closed door hockey romcom that includes tropes like fake dating, friends to lovers, forced proximity, and found family. This is the first book in a closed door hockey series with sizzling chemistry and swoony kisses.
Author Bio:
Anne Kemp is a bestselling author of romantic comedies. She loves reading (and she does it ridiculously fast, too!), gluten-free baking (because everyone needs a hobby that makes them crazy), and finding time to binge-watch her favorite shows. She grew up in Maryland but made Los Angeles her home until she encountered her own real-life meet-cute at a friend's wedding where she ended up married to one of the groomsmen. For real.
Anne now lives on the Kapiti Coast in New Zealand, and even though she was married at Mt. Doom, no…she doesn’t have a Hobbit. However, she and her husband do have a terrier named George Clooney and when she’s not writing, she’s usually with them taking a long walk on the river by their home.
You can find Anne on her website - come say hi! She’d love to hear from you: www.annekemp.com
Book Trib Lit Picks
BookTrib Lit Picks: First Chapters from the Hottest Books
Looking for your next page-turner or a hidden gem? BookTrib has your back! For over 20 years, BookTrib.com has been the ultimate haven for book lovers, offering reviews, news, podcasts, TV interviews, book club picks, and more.
In 2023, we launched an eBook series to help you discover your next great read, featuring both current and forthcoming titles from traditional and independent publishers.
BookTrib Lit Picks: First Chapters from the Hottest Books showcases over 50 titles from rising stars and beloved favorites. Each installment is your ticket to finding your next bookish obsession! BookTrib Lit Picks Holiday/Winter 2024 includes Patricia Cornwell, Stephen King, Meg Gardiner, Sara Shepard, Jeneva Rose, David Wroblewski, Norman Reedus, Stanley Tucci, Dean Koontz, Josh Malerman, Kate McKinnon, and many more!
Go to BookTrib.com/LitPicks for your free eBook — the perfect digital stocking stuffer — available now!
Thursday, December 12, 2024
Take Me Home For Christmas Book Blitz
Take Me Home for Christmas
Tracy Solheim
(Chances Inlet Contemporary Romance, #5)
Publication date: December 12th 2024
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Holiday, Romance
In the quaint coastal town of Chances Inlet, Christmas is a time for rekindling lost connections . . .
Elinor “Elle” McAlister is on the brink of a big-time promotion that will finally put her on equal footing with her overachieving siblings. The catch? She has to babysit a notoriously prickly war reporter who’s late delivering his memoir. As if that weren’t enough, her editor banishes them both to Elle’s hometown on the Carolina coast to get the job done. Spending the holidays in Chances Inlet might have been fine—if only she hadn’t wrecked the most important relationship in her life during her visit last Christmas.
Deputy Sheriff Hayden Lovell has known Elle was his person ever since she swiped his purple crayon back in kindergarten. Through every twist and setback, her steady friendship has been his anchor, especially after he returned from combat with wounds that run deep. But everything changed last New Year’s Eve when Elle surprised him with a kiss, stirring feelings he didn’t realize he had. Now that she’s back in town and keeping her distance, Hayden wonders if that moment meant as much to her as it did to him.
Chances Inlet has a knack for bringing people together. With Christmas around the corner, can Elle and Hayden rewrite their story before the holiday spirit fades? Join them in a heartwarming tale of love, friendship, and the magic of second chances in a town that knows how to celebrate Christmas like no other.
—
EXCERPT:
“Do you know who Everett West is?” Madelaine asked.
Everyone with access to a television knew who Everett West was. He’d been a globe-trotting war reporter for the past thirty-five years.
“He’s writing his memoir,” Elle responded. “We are serializing it in the magazine. The number of readers downloading the chapters has quadrupled over the past three months.”
Helen beamed at her. “Impressive. You know your stats about other aspects of the magazine besides your own.”
“The serialization is meant to whet the appetite of readers in hopes of getting them to order the book when we release it in July,” Madelaine explained.
“The problem we have,” Helen added, “is that Everett hasn’t quite finished the manuscript despite signing a contract stipulating he would complete it by the first of this month.”
“Oh.” Elle looked between the two women, still unsure what this had to do with her.
Helen shook her head. “Mm. Men aren’t always good at keeping their promises as I’m sure you are aware, Elinor.”
Whoa!
Was Helen apologizing for her worm of a grandson?
Madelaine leaned forward in her chair. “We need Everett to finish this book by the end of the year, or the magazine will run out of material to serialize.”
“And we won’t have any way to fulfill those preorders,” Elle added.
“Exactly!” Helen slapped her palm on the table.
Elle continued to gaze at the two women, trying to divine some sort of explanation as to why they were telling her this. “That’s a serious problem for the entire company.”
“Everett doesn’t seem to be able to focus on the manuscript here in New York.” Madelaine sighed. “Too many distractions.”
“Too many cronies to go out drinking with, you mean,” Helen muttered.
If Madelaine agreed with her boss’ sentiments, she was too professional to show it. “We need him to go someplace quiet, someplace with a lot slower pace and fewer diversions so he can buckle down and get the job done.”
The man had reported from deep below the ocean inside a Polaris submarine, while rumbling along in a tank in Iraq, and even while embedded in the Afghan desert with special forces. Surely, he didn’t need a convent to finish his memoir? He already knew the ending, after all.
“Do you need me to research some potential places?” Elle asked.
“No, no, dear girl.” Helen waved a hand. “In fact, Jeremy gave me the most brilliant idea earlier this week when we met for dinner. He was reminiscing wistfully about the wonderful times he spent when you two visited your mother’s inn in North Carolina.”
Elle tried not to bristle. Why would Jeremy be “reminiscing wistfully” about the Tide Me Over Inn? He only visited there twice. Now that she thought about it, both times he found something to complain about—from the inn to Chances Inlet. He’d found the whole town to be “provincial.”
“My mother’s inn? You want Mr. West to go there to finish his book?”
Both women nodded.
“Um, sure. I’m happy to check with her to see what openings she has. Christmas time is usually as popular as the summer months in Chances Inlet, though. I can research some backup inns just in case.”
Please, Mom, don’t let your inn be full.
“No need.” Helen grinned. “I’ve already spoken with your mother. She’s arranged a suite for Everett through the end of the year.”
“Oh.” Elle was surprised her mom hadn’t said something to her. “That’s great. Do you need me to make any other arrangements for him?”
“Everything is all taken care of.” Helen stood. “You’ll both be flying out first thing tomorrow. Everett has less than five weeks to finish his damn book. I’m counting on you, Elinor, to see that he does. If it comes down to it, chain him to a chair. Stand over him twenty-four hours a day. Whatever it takes.” She gave Elle’s shoulder a gentle squeeze as she walked past. “I know you’re up to the task.”
The publisher was out of the room before Elle realized the impact of her words.
“Wait. What?” she whispered. “No, no, no.”
Author Bio:
USA Today bestselling author Tracy Solheim writes books with shirtless men on the cover. Some of them are actually best-sellers. The books, not the men. When she's not writing, she's practicing her curling. . . bottles of wine, that is. She's been known to cook dinner but no more than two nights in a row. Most days, she'd rather be reading, which to her is just necessary research. She lives in the suburbs of Atlanta with her husband and a neurotic Labrador retriever. Her two adult children visit but not often enough. (See the note above about cooking.) Check out her romantic suspense series featuring the Men of the Secret Service--shirtless, of course! See what she’s up to at www.tracysolheim.com
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Tuesday, December 10, 2024
My Best Friend Is An Eldritch Horror Blog Tour
I am thrilled to be hosting a spot
on the MY BEST FRIEND IS AN ELDRITCH HORROR (Light Novel) by ACTUS Blog Tour
hosted by Rockstar
Book Tours. Check out my post and make sure to enter the giveaway!
About The Book:
Authors: ACTUS & Kisaragipana
(Illustrator)
Pub. Date: December 3, 2024
Publisher: VAULT BOOKS (an imprint of Vault Comics)
Formats: Paperback
Pages: 256
Find it: Goodreads, Amazon, B&N, Indigo, BAM, Bookshop, Blackwells
MAGE ERRANT meets THAT TIME I GOT REINCARNATED AS A
SLIME in the bestselling LitRPG Fantasy Action Adventureseries MY
BEST FRIEND IS AN ELDRITCH HORROR - in print and as a Light Novel for
the very first time with MY BEST FRIEND IS AN ELDRITCH HORROR (Light
Novel) Vol. 1 from Vault Books!
Damien nearly ended the world. Now, his mistake might be the only thing that
can save it.
Good things come to those who wait. Damien Vale didn’t, and he ended up bound
to an Eldritch creature from beyond the reaches of space. It has lived since
the dawn of time, seen the world born and destroyed countless times, and wants
to be called Henry.
Unusual companion or not, Damien was still determined to go to a mage college
and study magic. He wants nothing more than to live a normal life as a
researcher, but if Henry’s true nature is revealed, he’ll be killed.
To top it all off, Damien’s teacher is a madman from the front lines of war,
his alcoholic dean suspects something is awry with his companion, and Blackmist
might possibly be the worst school in history. Damien has to prevent the end of
the world, but he isn’t even sure he’s going to make it through Year One at
Blackmist.
My Best Friend is an Eldritch Horror is a slice-of-life mixed with
LitRPG in a magic school setting. A slow build power fantasy from Actus, the
bestselling author of Morcster Chef.
It's perfect for fans of My Hero Academia, Will Wight's Cradle series, Iron
Prince, Mage Errant, Mark of the Fool, Steamforged Sorcery, Astra Academy
series/ Academy Aracanist, Sufficiently Advanced Magic, Sword Art Online, Is It
Wrong to Pick Up Girls in a Dungeon?, Destiny Cycle series/Forge of Destiny,
Spice and Wolf; Paranoid Mage, Morcster Chef, Mark of Ascension, Warformed:
Stormweaver series/Iron Prince, Schooled in Magic, He Who Fights With Monsters,
My Necromancer Class, All the Skills, the Gunmetal Gods Saga, The
Beginning After the End, the Solo Leveling series, Monstress (Marjorie
Liu and Sana Takeda), as well as Brandon Sanderson’s Cosmere universe, Dungeons
and Dragons, and The Scholomance Series (Naomi Novik).
ACTUS is the author of multiple bestselling, record-breaking LitRPG
adventure/fantasy progression series such as: GLEAM, MORCSTER CHEF,
MY BEST FRIEND IS AN ELDRITCH HORROR, SHATTERED SYSTEM, STEAMFORGED SORCERY,
and his latest hit fantasy progression epic: THE RUNEBOUND PROFESSOR.
from Aethon Books.
Book Trailer:
Excerpt:
1
On the day a young Damien Vale
nearly brought about the end of the world, his mother made pancakes. This
was, of course, something of a problem. You see, Damien wasn’t hungry.
However, if he left any food on the table, his mother would have known
something was wrong.
Normally, Damien wouldn’t have
found that an issue. There were a great number of things that could cause
a young boy to lose his appetite. Rune drawing practice, bullying,
contemplating the insignificance of one’s mere mortal existence, and
girls.
None of these things had even
crossed Damien’s mind on this day. Well, he might have thought about one
particular mortal with short blonde hair and sparkling brown eyes once or
twice, but that was it.
Damien’s homework had been completed the night before and stuffed under his bed where his mother wouldn’t find it, and he counted himself lucky to have no issues with bullies. In fact, he was proud of his ability to blend into the background, watching life pass him by.
Until today. Today was a fateful
day, and Damien was taking no chances. If his mother suspected the
slightest thing was wrong, she might have watched him a little
closer. She could have noticed how his untrained gaze kept flicking to
the giant wooden cabinet covered with runes.
She may have even realized Damien
had memorized the password when she’d hastily whispered it that morning
in order to get the gold to pay the tax collector. Unfortunately, she saw none
of this.
“Mom, when do I get to summon my
companion?” Damien asked, tugging on her sleeve as he stuffed the
last piece of pancake into his mouth. It tasted as delicious as
ever, light and fluffy, with a rich sugary syrup that coated the inside
of his mouth. Damien had to keep himself from throwing up.
“In four years, Damien,” Hilla
Vale said, sighing. “It’s no different than the last time you asked me.
You’re too young to have a summon, and I won’t have you romping
around Ashfall Academy this early! Just because other kids have done it
doesn’t mean it’s safe! You could die!”
“I could still die when I’m
seventeen!”
“Then you’ll die more mature. And
don’t you even THINK of bringing up your father. He was a special
case and was lucky to survive. Not to mention, look where it got
him! He hasn’t been home in months because the queen has him traipsing
around the Warfront and hunting monsters,” Hilla said, her brow furrowing
with anger.
Damien wisely chose this moment to
nod mutely. This wasn’t the first time he’d had this argument—they occurred
on a daily basis. In fact, on this particular day, Damien wanted to do
nothing more than pretend summoning didn’t exist. That wasn’t an option. His
mother would have noticed if their morning argument had passed, and
he couldn’t have that.
The two of them finished their
meal at the wooden table meant for three. Damien helped his mother move
the dishes to the sink. She sighed and shook her head, ruffling her
son’s hair with a wry smile.
“Trust me, you’ll get your
companion soon enough. It feels like a long time, but four years is
nothing. With a powerful summon, you might not even have to worry about
aging. Just enjoy your childhood while you can. You can make carefree and
stupid decisions without ending your life. If you become an adventurer, that
privilege is gone. I won’t deny it can be exciting, but it can also
be deadly,” Hilla said.
It was the most she’d spoken on
the subject in a long time. Damien jerked his head toward her, wondering
if he’d been discovered. Luckily, or perhaps unluckily, for him,
she’d turned her attention to washing the dishes. She didn’t seem any
wiser to his plans.
“I’ve got a meeting I have to
attend with Mayor Leo in a few minutes. I’ll be gone for a few hours, and
I expect your homework to be done by the time I get back,” Hilla
said sternly.
“I’ll start it right away,” Damien
lied. No matter what his plans were for the rest of the day, he couldn’t
leave homework unfinished. After all, it was his favorite subject:
Rune drawing.
Hilla rolled her eyes and dried
her hands off on a towel.
“I’m sure you will. You’re welcome
to go play with Ja cob when you finish. I’ve left some sausage and cheese
in the ice box, and there’s bread in the pantry. You two can grab
some food if you get hungry.”
Damien nodded, his nerves too
tense to allow him to say anything more. Hilla tossed her apron onto a
hook and gave Damien a quick kiss on the forehead before she swept
out of the house and gently locked the door behind her.
The young boy didn’t budge for
several minutes. His breathing sped up, and cold sweat trickled down the
back of his neck. Slowly, he walked to the door and peered out the
small window.
Hilla was nowhere to be seen. She
wasn’t one to be late for anything, so there was little chance of her
turning back now. That didn’t help Damien’s nerves much.
With a pit forming at the bottom
of his stomach, Damien dashed over to the large wooden cabinet. It
was bigger than he was, with half a dozen runes he recognized and
about ten more he didn’t.
“Lixxar, villo, antov,”
Damien said, his words just barely louder than a whisper.
The cabinet didn’t budge. He
swallowed and said the words again, this time with more
conviction.
The doors of the cabinet popped
open with a click that nearly made Damien’s heart jump out of his
mouth. He could nearly hear his pulse now. The young boy pulled the
cabinet open.
For the most highly defended
object within the Vale household, the inside was rather plain. A large
bag of money Damien cared nothing about had been set on the middle
shelf. The real prize was at the top.
He reached up, standing on his
tiptoes, and felt his fingers brush against hardened leather. A static shock
traveled down his arm as he nudged the book over the edge and grabbed it
before it could fall. Damien cradled the book like a baby as he
absentmindedly shut the cabinet.
“The Summoner’s Almanac,”
Damien whispered. His very short life’s greatest desire, the key to my
freedom, and the beginning of what should have been the end of
mankind.
Damien scurried to his room,
clutching the book to his chest. He grabbed the pouch of chalk from his
desk and returned to the dining room, slipping through the back door, and
making a beeline for the old shed in the back.
He darted inside and closed the
door behind him as carefully as possible. The warm sunlight streaming
in through the windows at the top of the barn was just barely
enough to see the stone floor.
It had been years since the barn
had been used for anything of worth. It smelled like mildew and stale water.
The barn was completely empty, aside from some crates of old
memorabilia and a wooden sword Damien had made for a school
project.
Damien knelt on the floor. He
pulled his rough shirt over his nose and brushed as much of the dust away
as he could with the back of his hand. He immediately started
sneezing as it got all over his clothes and slipped through the small
holes in the weaving of his shirt.
His sneezing fit lasted for
several minutes before the dust finally decided he’d had enough and let
him off the hook. The determined young man wiped his nose on
his sleeve. Then he picked up his bag of chalk.
He laid the Summoner’s Almanac out
on the ground before him. Despite the thick binding, the book
wasn’t particularly large. Damien opened it and flipped through the
pages.
It didn’t take long to find what
he was looking for. It came right after about five pages of warnings and
regulations, all of which Damien ignored. The page in question had a
single circle drawn out on it.
The circle was made up of hundreds
of runes. Two hundred and fifty-six, to be precise. Damien
recognized about ten of them. Luckily, recognition wasn’t a requirement
for casting the summoning ritual.
Damien scanned the book, his eyes
flicking over the runes like two grasshoppers. He only had a few hours
to do this before his mother came home. There was no room for
mistakes.
He sat there for just over an
hour, inscribing the runes into his memory. None of them were
particularly complex, so he didn’t have any doubts over his ability to
draw them. That was all he’d done for the past few years anyway. How
much harder could these ones be?
Damien reached inside his bag of
chalk with a trembling hand. When it emerged, his fear was gone. All that
remained was confidence. The type of confidence that could only come when
one knew they only had one shot at something, and failure wasn’t an
option.
He drew. He started at the bottom of the circle, sketching out each rune with a practiced hand. If he’d wanted to, he could have gone faster. He didn’t. Each line, every curve, and every dot were drawn with utter perfectionism in mind.
The young man fell into something
of a trance. His hand made the slow trip in a circle around him. He
didn’t change his pace once. Even when his fingers ached and his
wrist burned, Damien continued.
It took him nearly an hour to draw
the circle. Damien knew his time counted down, but he pushed the
thought to the back of his mind. He rose and examined his work. The
circle was large enough for him to lie in. As far as he could tell, it
appeared correct. Despite that, a slight frown crossed his face.
Damien glanced from the book to
his drawing. It looked the same, but the doubt still nipped at the back
of his mind. He grimaced and picked the chalk back up. He moved to
the edge of the circle and started drawing again.
This time, it only took him just
over ten minutes to finish with his work. He was familiar with the new
circle he’d drawn around the summoning one, so he didn’t have to
try quite as hard.
Damien stepped inside the two
circles. He swallowed and picked up the book. His mother could be home at
any moment. He narrowed his eyes and forced himself to concentrate on the
task at hand. At the bottom of the page was the Summoner’s Almanac’s
final instruction to him: Earnestly Reach out with your heart and
mind. Your call will echo throughout the planes of existence, and your
companion shall respond.
Damien drew in a deep breath,
closed the book, and concentrated. Every fiber of his being craved for a
companion. More than anything in the world, Damien wanted to be able to
cast magic. There was only one way to do that, and it was to summon a
companion.
And that was exactly what Damien
did. His desires funneled through his body, coursed through the
invisible Ether that permeated the universe, and channeled into the
first ring of runes around him.
The air hummed and crackled.
Damien’s hair stood on end, but he didn’t relent. If anything, the young
boy tried harder. His hands clenched at his sides as his very soul
cried out.
That pure, longing note of
innocent desire entered the summoning circle. The runes flared with
energy and Damien’s voice was cast into the universe.
It hurtled through the Ether,
tearing free of the Mortal Plane. It traveled through the Plane of Stars,
ducked under the Plane of Immortals, and careened straight between
the Planes of Fury and Light.
It reached the Plane of Darkness.
Then it kept going. It slowed as it passed through the Plane of the Dead,
which resided at the farthest reaches of the living universe, but
it did not stop.
Damien’s plea went where no living
mortal’s thought had ever been before. Then it kept going. It passed all
semblance of what mortals could rationalize. It fell through the cracks
in the universe. Then it slipped into the Void. The Void
answered.
A cold breeze kicked up at
Damien’s feet. The runes glowed brighter as the summoning spell called
out to his companion. All the light in the room not from the runes
dimmed as if the sun had set.
Damien took a nervous step
backward. There wasn’t a lot of area in his circle, but the summoning
ritual only established the connection between the caster and their summon.
It didn’t actually pull them into the Mortal Plane.
The air grew colder. What might
have been described as an inconsistency formed in the air in front of
Damien. The young boy peered closer at it with a mixture of excitement
and trepidation.
It wasn’t that there was something
actually there. In fact, it was more like there was nothing at
all. It wasn’t black. It just didn’t exist. A hole in reality. It
expanded, drawing a thin line of nothingness before Damien. The
line stretched, turning into a large rectangle. Damien’s head pounded as
the worst headache he’d ever had gripped his skull. He tore his eyes from
whatever he’d summoned. Then something stepped out of the rectangle.
Despite himself, Damien glanced at it.
A psychic scream tore through his
mind. Damien’s mouth dropped open, and blood burst from his nose.
What he saw could not be described. It was the beauty of the afterlife.
It was the hideous face of death itself. It was wonderous. It was
terrible. And it tore Damien apart like a house in a hurricane. Damien’s
soul was torn asunder. His body collapsed to its knees, eyes staring
lifelessly into the air.
The shredded pieces of his soul
started to dissipate into the Ether around them. Then they froze. Slowly,
almost reluctantly, they slithered back into his body. Damien drew
a ragged gasp.
The pain was gone. The memory was
already fading. It wasn’t something a human mind could comprehend,
so it was locked away in the deepest depths of his psyche.
Damien couldn’t comprehend what
had just happened, but the fading memory and his thundering head ache informed
him it would be wise to keep his eyes firmly on the ground. He didn’t
know what he’d summoned, but he knew it was something far more horrible
than he could even begin to imagine.
“Oops,” a voice said. As with the
creature’s appearance, its voice was impossible to describe. It was like
a thousand people of different ages, genders, and languages
speaking at the same time. It was gibberish, yet Damien understood
it perfectly.
“W-what are you?” Damien asked,
not moving his eyes from the ground. His voice was nasally from the
blood, and it shook so much it was practically
incomprehensible.
“I am It Who Heralds the End of
All Light,” the creature spoke. Each word thrummed through the air, threatening
to rip it apart. “You may call me Henry.”
“Why are you here?” Damien forced
out. Every word he spoke felt like a punch to the gut. “I did a
summoning ritual. You aren’t a possible companion.”
“How do you know?” The creature
genuinely sounded curious. Despite its words, there was no question
posed. It was a command.
“The ritual summons a creature
from another plane. You aren’t in any of the books.”
“I could be a demon,” Henry
said.
It took Damien several seconds to
gather the strength to respond. He weakly shook his head.
“You aren’t,” he said.
“I’m not,” Henry agreed. They sat
there for several moments, neither of them saying a word. Damien gathered his
courage. He tried to swallow, but his throat was dry, and there wasn’t a
speck of saliva in his mouth.
“C-could you leave? I made a
mistake. I didn’t mean to summon you. It was supposed to be my
companion.” “No, I don’t think I will,” Henry said in a thoughtful tone.
“Mortals got one thing wrong about time, you see. Just because I’m immortal
doesn’t mean a thousand years pass in a flash. I get bored. Very, very
bored. It’s been millennia since I last escaped the Void, and I have no desire
to return. Besides, why waste an opportunity?”
“An opportunity?” Damien
asked.
“Indeed. You asked for a
companion, and here I am.” Damien blinked. Bond with this…abomination?
The very idea disgusted him. Despite his incredibly rude thoughts,
the o er didn’t hold up logically. The more powerful a being was, the
harder it was to get it to agree to a summon. Many people went through
dozens of summons before they located something that would make a
pact with them.
To make a deal with a creature
that had literally killed Damien with a single glance, well, even Damien
wasn’t that stupid. However, the fact that Damien was still alive
emboldened him. Henry wanted something from him, and that meant he had a
chance to live.
“Bonding with a companion you
don’t know is foolish,” Damien said.
“So is summoning me,” Henry
observed. “Yet, here you are. The offer still stands, foolish one.”
A thought struck Damien. He had to
force himself to keep the sigh of relief from escaping his lips. This
wasn’t the first time a summoning had gone wrong, and the circle had
countermeasures built in.
“I refuse,” Damien said, shaking
his head firmly. “It’s time for you to leave.”
He shifted his foot and rubbed out
one of the runes on the circle beside him. The energy in the runes
instantly vanished as the power was cut and the circle broke. With out
the contract binding the companion to the Mortal Plane, it would be sent
harmlessly back to whence it had come.
“I’d rather not,” Henry said.