A quick update from me. To celebrate the macabre mask of this month you will find lots of poppet horrors for the special price of 99c. Make sure you grab Quislings to read over Halloween (it will get under your skin).
Also, Bratva and Saving the Sacrifice are due out this month. They would already be out but I had a delay in my working schedule due to my baby boy, Dean, being sick with meningitis. But don’t fear, these books will be available in time for Halloween (thank you for your patience in this).
A harmless game of Spirit of the Glass changes their lives. Immersed head first into the ancient Mayan world, tattoos transform, prayers are caught by the greedy, and the rattlesnake comes to stake its claim.
Zohar issued a death threat on Halloween and now it’s a race against time before they all die. Usha has to open the heart of heaven in time to save the rest of them, but the key is too cryptic. Rituals, ancient and new, clash in a bid for supremacy.
A Chinaman, an Italian, a Slovenian, and an American, walk into a bar – it sounds like a joke, right? Quislings are no joke.
Good morning angels! It’s the start of a brand new week and it’s time for some good news.Seitheis back in his longest novel yet. You will find him at AmazonHERE.
If there is one thing which irks Seithe it’s a woman who is beaten down by life. It’s a man’s world, but not for long. The winds of change are blowing and a plague is on the horizon. Angels and gods are putting their feet down hard enough to shake our brains and bones.
It starts with Jamie, with a reacquainting of himself with our kind, but now Seithe has a much bigger plan for womankind. There will be enough angels for everyone, and no, it’s not raining men, it’s swarming with them!
Jowendrhan unleashes the plague, Ellie dies in order to live, and Seithe falls in love with Jamie. It’s a trinity of perfection, one which will send a shiver of lucem into your heart, it will prod your mind into thinking like an Einstein, and it will curl your toes with ecstasy. Angels are complex creatures, there’s just one problem, we have no clue what an angel is.
Warning: This novel is not suitable for Christian audiences or the religiously inclined
It’s the first book of many, and this installment is dedicated to Jamie.
The swooshing draws my attention downstairs and I spy through the gaps of my stone balcony, the wedges holding the balustrade up shaped like bowling pins. From this angle I can see between them and my heart lurches at the sight of Seithe swimming laps in his pool. Standing for a better view I rest my mug on the flat top of the balcony railing, leaning my elbows on it, slouching, greedily watching the way his body glides through the diaphanous aquamarine, muscles carved and bunched, rigid with effort, his hair still white even when wet. Looking away, fighting the urge to drop my robe and dive bomb him from above, I distract myself by closing my eyes and listening. It’s so quiet here. There’s no traffic, no mechanical hum, no dogs barking, no phones ringing or feet trampling, no cars hooting or posties delivering mail through slots in front doors, no TVs blaring from two doors down or children screaming with shrill excitement, no arguments or altercations, I can’t hear the neighbour’s toilet flushing or Bob baffing while he waters his yard before work – not even a bird tweets, no insects make a noise. It’s so peaceful it doesn’t feel real. I like it, although too much of it would surely drive me mad. The only sound is the thrumming of my heartbeat and the disturbance of his body scything through water, his long arms sliding and wheeling, as they breach the surface tension and slap water up they swoosh-splash, and I look down again, mesmerised. Like a professional he pivots and rolls, shooting off the side wall into the middle of the pool, breaking the surface to cut through the water in effortless strokes, and I stare at his naked form until my eyes dry, absently sipping my coffee, nibbling pastry, until both are consumed and I’m lost in my visual licking of his glorious body. My organs go into a tizz at seeing him so naked, recalling mystical pleasure reserved for the truly unhinged. I like this coma, it’s the best holiday of my life.