Title: Fated and Forbidden: An Otherworldly Boxset
Authors: Danielle Annett, Dina Given, E.J. Whitmer, Siana Wineland, Tom Shutt, Amy Stearman, M.S. Dobing, A.L. Kessler, Frances Pauli, Rebecca N Caudill.
Genre: Urban Fantasy and Paranormal
Release Date: June 30, 2016
Ten heroes and heroines are up against unknown forces of darkness—good thing they all have supernatural skills and abilities—it’s just too bad that not all of them are sure what to do with them yet. Powerful allies are hard to come by and lines are blurred when it becomes difficult to tell friend from foe. Delve in to ten unique worlds full of vampires, witches, mages, dream-stalkers, fallen deities, monsters and even super heroes! Supernatural skills may be enough to save them… but only if they can figure out how to wield them in time.
All stories are first in a series!
1. Cursed by Fire by Danielle Annett: Vampires and shifters vie for control of Spokane, Washington, and Aria Naveed is right in the middle of the fire.
2. Message Bearer by M.S. Dobing: Seb is a fledging mage, able to manipulate reality, and he alone carries the message that could change the course of the conflict forever
3. Unhidden by Dina Given: It’s not always easy to differentiate between the good guys and the bad guys, especially when your heroine is a trained killer and she may be falling in love with her evil hunter…
4. No More Black Magic by A.L. Kessler: Explosions, bodies and black magic are just part of a typical day at this agency.
5. Power Surge by E.J. Whitmer: From ordinary to extraordinary in just one week. It’s a good thing she looks great in spandex.
6. Brooding City by Tom Shutt: A police detective is confronted with his own past crimes as a dream-stalker even as he takes on a greater evil.
7. Altered by Amy Stearman: A pretty law student’s life is changed forever by a mysterious stranger when desire, possession, and treachery lead Sadie down a crooked path to redemption
8. Emergence by Siana Wineland: Valkyries invade the Pacific NW, in a contagion. What’s a girl to do when she finds she’s been infected and sprouting wings happens to be a side affect.
9. A Time Apart by Rebecca N. Caudill: A vampire and a woman who couldn’t be more different, realize that destiny has brought them full circle.
10. Familiar by Frances Pauli: A beautiful small-town witch teams up with a sexy cop to take on a demon.
ABOUT THE AUTHORS
Danielle Annett is a reader, writer, photographer, and the blogger behind Coffee and Characters. You can learn more about Danielle on her website at www.Danielle-Annett.com or follow her on facebook at https://www.facebook.com/AuthorDanielleAnnett and on twitter @Danielle_Annett
M.S. Dobing lives in Preston, UK with his wife and twin daughters. His first novel, Message Bearer, is the first in his urban fantasy series, The Auran Chronicles, the sequel to which is due out in the first half of 2016. Follow him at https://www.facebook.com/AuranChronicles?hc_location=ufi
Dina Given has been an avid fan of fantasy in all of its permutations since childhood. She is convinced that magic lives on in this world, and she is doing her part to bring a piece of it to readers. Learn more at www.dinagiven.com and follow her at https://www.facebook.com/DinaGivenAuthor/
A.L. Kessler is a paranormal romance author residing in beautiful Colorado Springs, Co. Since she was a teenager she has loved spinning tales. She can easily be won over with gifts of coffee or chocolate. You can learn more at http://www.amylkessler.com and follow her at www.facebook.com/alkesslerauthor
Tom Shutt writes paranormal suspense with generous helpings of humor and a sprig of mystery thrown in for good measure. Sometimes he dabbles in fantasy, but in all cases, he strives to push the boundaries of modern fiction in search of good answers to hard questions. Follow him @TomShutt and learn more at www.tomshutt.com
E.J. Whitmer is the author of the Anna Jennings Super Novels, an avid reader, amateur karaoke rockstar and professional awkward turtle. Follow her on facebook at https://www.facebook.com/ejwhitmerauthor/
Amy Stearman is an avid reader and writer of stories, hailing from the Midwest. She lives in the liberal mecca of Kansas with her husband, young son, and ornery Sheltie. Find her at http://www.amystearman.com/ or follow her on facebook at https://www.facebook.com/AuthorAmyStearman/
Siana Wineland lives in the beautiful, but soggy, Olympic Peninsula of Washington state. She spends much of her time shepherding her young children, or the goats and sheep she raises. Sometimes it’s hard to tell them apart on the farm, unless you hold out a vegetable. For updates on her writing please visit her website at www.sianawineland.com
Rebecca N. Caudill writes contemporary & paranormal romance featuring smart, kickass females & the men who adore them. Learn more about her and her books at www.rebeccancaudill.com or follow her on twitter @rebecca_caudill
Frances Pauli writes speculative fiction, usually with touches of humor or romance, which means, of course, that she has trouble choosing sides. She’s always been a fan of things outside the box, odd, weird or unusual, and that trend follows through to her tales, which feature aliens, fairies, and even, on occasion, an assortment of humans. More information on her work and upcoming releases can be found on her website: http://francespauli.com
by Fire by Danielle Annett
my hands and coated the walls. It stained the concrete flooring of the
abandoned warehouse and dripped from fixtures that hung from the ceiling,
trickling like a slow rain. My vision blurred as anguish filled me. How could
this have happened? How could I have been too late?
of a child. A boy. Kneeling in a pool of congealing blood, I ran my fingers
through his chestnut hair, ignoring the now-cool moisture seeping into the
denim of my pants. His face was unrecognizable. Gone was the child with the
dimpled cheek and brilliant blue eyes. Left behind was a mass of flesh and bone—a
ruined body drained of its life force at such a young age.
band, bringing me back to the present as I sat at my desk in Sanborn Place.
Ripped from the haunted memories of finding Daniel’s body.
was a fact of life and even though I knew it was true, I still had a hard time
coming to terms with the atrocities people committed. The cruelties that for
some god-forsaken reason, people thought were okay. Staring down at the
wallet-sized photo now crumpled in my hands, I was greeted by a crown of
chestnut hair, bright blue eyes, a heart-shaped face, and a brilliant smile; a
single dimple on his left cheek. The face of an innocent seven-year-old boy,
cut down like he was little more than a calf brought to slaughter. I found
myself struggling to link the image of this smiling boy to that of the ruined
body I’d found less than forty-eight hours ago.
by Dina Given
against my face, numbing my cheek. My stomach roiled from the spinning of the
room, threatening to release my dinner. I took a deep, ragged breath and tried
to keep the dizziness under control. A voice in my head screamed at me to get
up and defend myself, but my body wouldn’t obey. With a herculean effort, I
pulled my legs under me in an effort to rise.
in the floor before I heard the heavy thud of footsteps. The bastard was back
for more. It must be my lucky day. A
vice clamped around my ankles, and I slid along the smooth stone floors of the
mansion. Crystal chandeliers and Renaissance paintings streaked across my
vision as I was pulled through an open doorway.
flailed, scrabbling to clutch the doorframe to stop my relentless slide into
the darkened room. I tried to make it a rule to never be forced into a room
when I didn’t know what lay within.
handhold on the doorframe, but with a sharp tug, my captor caused me to easily
lose my grip. He—because only a man could own hands that large and
strong—“accidentally” slammed me into a coffee table before coming to a stop
without releasing me.
grenade that was triggered when I had been finishing my sweep of the last room
in the mansion had left my temples throbbing, preventing me from lifting my
head to get a good look at my captor. I needed to pull myself together if I was
going to fight my way out of here.
took a silent inventory of my injuries: a few bruises, no broken bones, no
bleeding. Sweet. This was going to be easier than I’d thought.
Surge by E.J. Whitmer:
me last night at about 1: 30am. The only words I could make out were ‘jaeger’
‘nipples’ and ‘spandex’. I hopped in my car and headed over here to find you
standing in your kitchen wearing only your underwear and trying to stuff your
entire face in a pint of ice cream. Apparently you were out of spoons.”
you to get some pajamas on. You wanted my shirt. You took it. Thankfully you
turned around while you were putting it on. I made you drink a glass of water
and tucked you into bed. I wasn’t sure how much you’d had to drink, so I
checked in on you every couple of hours. I provided you with early morning eye
candy. I made you delicious cheesy eggs. I think that’s about it.”
I only gawked at your ass.”
by Siana Wineland:
barefoot in the darkness, Jessica hid and watched the recovery team flip lights
on in her house. Panic tried to set icy claws in her gut, but she pushed it
away ruthlessly. The arrival of the recovery team confirmed her worst fear: she
must have started the change.
walked through her home, leaving her in the cold and dark.
bedroom. He moved with the grace of a predator, her eyes widened when he
turned, allowing her to see the suede of his wings fall gracefully down his
back like a dark cloak.
Hunter here? Recovery teams only have unchanged people in them.
walking over to the window and examining it. He spread his wings, the large fan
covering the glass to block the light from behind him. Fascinated, she stared,
transfixed at the way the light shone through the membrane of his wings.
lethargy that was her body’s natural response to the changes taking place
boring into her, and he smiled a slow feral smile.
Time Apart by Rebecca Norinne Caudill:
arms, he didn’t fight her but his hands lingered as she slid away, as if he was
trying to hold onto something significant, and for the first time, Olivia could
see quite clearly he was no ordinary man.
voice barely audible above the logs crackling in the fire.
to the extensive research she’d conducted the night before, she would have
sworn she had never seen him a day in her life. But that wasn’t entirely
true, for she knew now that she had seen him while she dreamed. She
had seen him lying beside her, touching the most private parts of her
body. And just last night she’d fantasized about making mad, passionate
love to him outside, under the stars. And now she realized it had all happened
before, perhaps hundreds of times. She knew this man intimately … but not the
nightmare version of him, the man who had killed her.
realized, Olivia didn’t know herself – that woman from a time long forgotten.
“Who … what … am I then?” Fear and trepidation laced her voice.
about who you are today.” His voice broke with emotion. “I only know who you were and when you were. In the year 1658, you were Ceara, my fierce
beauty. You were my wife and I loved you more than you can know.”
interrupt with more questions, but when she remained mute, he continued
speaking. “If asked when I was still the man you remember, I would have said
I’d give anything – my life, even – for you. Instead, I took it.”
hundreds of years, his face became a mask of loathing. He remembered, in
starkly vivid detail, the exact moment he had chased his beloved Ceara down,
broke her neck, and then sucked her body dry.
through his recollections, she wondered how he could have turned on her. What
had she done to deserve that fate? And who – what – was he that he could force these terrible memories to the
you?” she asked, not quite sure she was ready to hear his answer.
as you might have guessed, I’m a vampire.”
by Frances Pauli:
stared at the graffiti and centered, took a deep breath and imagined her roots
reaching down, down into the earth. Her head spun a little. She reached for the
door with her free hand and pressed her palm against fresh red paint.
round moon overhead that set fear in her steps instead of awe. Why was she
running again? Midnight, dogs barking behind her and the man. Her heart seized
and she tripped over her own feet, sprawled forward toward hard roots and cold
dirt. The man chasing her wanted blood tonight.
blinked and saw blood, red dribbles against white.
Wallace, are you alright?”
She lifted her hand and stared at it. Red paint on her skin. A voice called
from behind her, but it was light out. There was no moon, no danger. She turned
around and found cops on her steps. The short one, she knew. Officer Peg Stone
had taken her call that morning, in fact, but Deirdre had never expected to
actually see the woman. Still, there was the patrol car parked below, and
behind Stone stood a policeman with dark eyes.
splatted against the nasty word but held her upright while the dizziness
swirled around and around.
More Black Magic by A.L. Kessler:
was cut short and his brown gaze cut into me. He stood tall and demanded
attention. Like Simon, he was dressed in older clothes, and I assumed it meant
they wouldn’t care if they got ruined. The muscles of his arms were solid and
his chest strained against the tight muscle shirt that he wore. Yeah, I
wouldn’t stand a chance in a fight against this guy, even if he was human.
brow. I had dressed in my normal black clothes with boots. I had, as requested,
left the gun in the car, but my blade was sheathed across my back, hidden by my
jerked me forward. I caught myself with a hand against his chest.
in submission.” He growled. “Do you understand that?”
neck and bowed low enough that I offered it
to him. My verbal answer wouldn’t have been good enough. He was trying to show
off his strength, his power, and I was willing to bet other members of the pack
were watching from the windows of the cabin. Arguing with him wouldn’t have
done me any good.
City by Tom Shutt:
things, and that was when I still thought you were just a bedtime story. If
even half of it is true—”
tightly. “There are forces that are simply too powerful and mysterious to be
handled by the police. We are the self-appointed protectors of the people.”
answering. “There is no right or wrong in this world, Jeremy. You must
understand that in order to bring balance to others, we must first find balance
within ourselves. This will not be an easy life, nor one filled with thanks from
those you help—they will never even know you were there. You will make hard
choices, decisions that will leave others bereft of their autonomy. But with my
guiding hand, you will accomplish great deeds and protect countless innocents
during your service.”
Nobody will know who you are, or what you do, or when or where you will strike
next. The people will never acknowledge your sacrifices, and they will continue
to fear and despise the myth that you represent.”
by Amy Steaman:
of the year rode their fat bodies lazily down to the empty sidewalk Sadie Pratt
trudged along. If she looked up, the old fashioned streetlights would
illuminate their glittery brethren. But she didn’t look up. A cold winter wind
was demanding attention she didn’t care to give as she shifted her eyes
toward her destination at the end of the street. As if irritated with her
neglect, a particularly breathy gust reached out and freed her auburn waves
from a loose bun. In response, she tucked her chin deeper into the plaid scarf
wrapped around her neck and quickened her footfalls.
dark as the cloud-heavy sky hanging above her. Her boss, Harvey McDonnell, of
McDonnell and Loeb Law Office had rung her out of a study-induced trance thirty
the office in thirty,” like it was a common request. Like it wasn’t 9:30 on a
Thursday night. Like she wasn’t drowning in the middle of finals!
pristine brick façade that stood with pride in the little college town of
Weston’s historic business district and flung the door wide. The gratuitous
cowbell hanging on the handle let out its hollow ring. Harvey was already
there, so instead of turning on the lights and starting a pot of coffee as per
her usual routine, Sadie dumped her heavy bag without ceremony at the receptionist’s
desk and marched back to his office.
eyes rose over the edge of his half-rimmed glasses to meet her steely glare
then traveled down her slim frame covered in an overly long flannel, black
leggings and combat boots. He chuffed. “You look nice.”
business hours,” she shot back, fists coming to rest on hips.
Message Bearer by M.S. Dobing:
form coalesced from the gloom, a slight shimmering in the air, a shifting of
shadows, before condensing into something resembling a human that now stood,
unmoving, just at the periphery of the streetlight.
suit that hung loosely off a pencil-thin frame. Its head was dipped, its face
hidden beneath a black fedora with a single silver band. As he watched, the
creature’s head rose. Black eyes met his. Something cold trickled down his
animated by invisible string. Its mouth opened into a wide grin, jaw distending
to almost impossible proportions, displaying a set of dagger-like incisors.
managing the barest of nods. She reached out to him, her hand shaking.
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