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Dannika Dark is the USA Today Bestselling Author of Urban Fantasy Romance and Paranormal Romance. Her books have sold more than 1 million copies worldwide, and she is a 2016 Audie Awards finalist.


Available for purchase at
Dannika Dark is the USA Today Bestselling Author of Urban Fantasy Romance and Paranormal Romance. Her books have sold more than 1 million copies worldwide, and she is a 2016 Audie Awards finalist.


“My guardian angel is a drunk.”

“I was utterly and completely swept away by Lucian Divine. This story is sweet, swoony, so funny and unique and just downright magical. It’s pure delight.”
-Mia Sheridan
New York Times, USA Today and Wall Street Journal Bestselling Author
“Lucian delivers all the feels and heart in a beautifully clever, blissfully winged package. This story was the absolute best way to start my New Year.”
-Staci Hart
Bestselling Author
“A love story like we’ve never seen…witty and so utterly charming, Carlino’s humor shines thought in Lucian Divine. I have been swept away.”
-R.S. Grey
USA Today Bestselling Author
“Lucian Divine has redefined and set a new standard of what a must-read book is for me.”
-Carey Heywood
New York Times Bestselling Author
“Carlino pulls all the stops and gives us not only something emotional that will touch your heart and soul, but will also give readers something to think about long after reading the very last page.”
-Christina Shh Moms Reading
“This author has ASTOUNDING talent and every romance reader out there needs to experience at least one of her incredible stories. Unique, addictive, beautiful, and faultlessly written, LUCIAN DIVINE by Renée Carlino was an incredible DELIGHT to read!”
-Shayna Renee’s Spicy Reads
“A love so deep, so strong, one that will melt your heart and have you devouring word after word. Lucian Divine consumed me and I have to say that I am in awe of Renee Carlino’s talent and her ability to create a tale that brings this story and these characters to life.”
-Jen Shmexy Girl Book Blog
“This book delivers on so many levels. It questions but also reaffirms faiths. It makes you love harder and sends a hopeful message.”
-AC Book Blog
“I adored the neurotic but lovable Lucian. Everything about this book was perfect for me.”
-A Literary Perusal
Renée Carlino is a screenwriter and bestselling author of contemporary women’s novels and new adult fiction. Her books have been featured in national publications, including USA TODAY, Huffington Post, Latina magazine, and Publisher’s Weekly. She lives in Southern California with her husband, two sons, and their sweet dog June. When she’s not at the beach with her boys or working on her next project, she likes to spend her time reading, going to concerts, and eating dark chocolate. Learn more at www.reneecarlino.com
When their passion and goals collide, the crash is volatile.Sara Graham has no idea what she is getting herself into when she uses her forbidden art to protect the near-extinct elephants and their habitat in the Knysna forest, South Africa. From the minute she sets foot in the woodcutters’ bar, she endangers her life. The gift hunters who would kill for her art are not the only threat. The wood smugglers will sooner murder her than let the National Parks Board ranger stand in their way. Falling for woodcutter and ex-convict, Wayne West, only further complicates matters. Can Sara trust a man convicted of the cruelest of murders?
Danger comes to town with a green SANParks vest and a tight body. Wayne knows Sara is all kinds of trouble from the first time he lays eyes on her in the bar. Alone, she doesn’t stand a chance. If he protects her, he will not only be branded as a traitor with the woodcutters, but he may also lose his job, and worse, his land. That is to say if they make it out alive. Even then, can he forgive her for taking the only thing he has left?
(This excerpt is unedited and subject to change.)Wayne West looked up from his oxtail stew when the female walked into the bar. Her ponytail bounced as she approached the counter where Jack lifted a wary head. A few brown tendrils that had escaped the elastic band feathered over her cheeks. Green eyes, the color of a new leaf caught in the morning sun, smiled in tune with her generous lips, at no one in particular, because she wasn’t looking at him, Nelis, or Thinus. In fact, she seemed oblivious to their existence, never mind the stares from the scruff cousins at the corner table facing the TV screen.
Khaki pants stretched over a tight ass as she propped one cheek onto a barstool, resting a hiking boot on the foot bar. It was the green vest with the SANParks emblem on the breast that held Wayne’s attention.
“Diet Coke, please,” she said to Jack, dropping a day hiking bag at her feet.
Thinus nudged Nelis with an elbow, his cracked lips peeling into a grin under his blond moustache. Jack tore his eyes away from the rugby match and straightened his heavy frame. Jack had seen the logo too, even if his eyes went back to the screen as he banged a can of Coke down on the counter and slid a glass her way. Jack had eyes in the back of his head. For a mammoth sloth he was deceptively perceptive.
“Thanks.”
The husky voice was too old for her young body. She cracked open the can and took a long drink without bothering with the glass. There was something poetic about the arc of her neck and the swallows that rippled her throat, like the graceful cast of a fishing line and the peaceful bob of the fly on a stream.
She rested her arms on the counter.
“What’s on the menu?”
“Oxtail,” Jack said, his eyes glued on the game.
Her brow pleated. “Do you have anything vegetarian?” Jack graced her with an incredulous glare and said, “Oxtail,” before turning back to the screen.
“Sandwich? Anything that hasn’t been killed?”
Thinus’ voice rose from the corner. “This ain’t no fancy pansy roadhouse in the city, darlin’.”
Wisely, she ignored him.
“What do you serve with the oxtail? Salad?”
“Rice.” Jack popped a matchstick in his mouth.
“Haven’t had that in a while,” she said with sarcasm, but not without humor. “I’ll have a bowl of rice.”
Jack turned his head an inch and called, “One special, no meat,” to Johannes at the back.
The woman either didn’t notice the hostility or decided to ignore it. Either way, she was a fool walking into the Quteniqua Woodcutters Bar with a South African National Parks Board jacket. Wayne brought the fork to his mouth, watching from hooded eyes while Nelis and Thinus giggled like high school girls.
“Where’s the bathroom?” she said.
Jake threw a thumb over his shoulder.
She picked up her backpack and made her way to the ladies room at the end of the short corridor.
Nelis and Thinus exchanged a look. After a second, Thinus got up and headed for the toilets. Wayne wiped his mouth on a napkin. This was what he’d hoped wouldn’t happen. His chair scraped over the hardwood floor. When Thinus reached the corridor, Wayne was already there, blocking his way.
“Whazup, West?” Thinus said, planting his feet wide and hooking his thumbs into his belt.
“I don’t know, Thinus,” Wayne drawled. “Was just about to ask you the same thing.”
“Stand aside, man.”
Instead of moving, Wayne braced his shoulder on the wall. “Need the can so bad you’re going to piss in your pants?”
Thinus took a step forward. “I’m warning you, man.”
Wayne smirked. Thinus didn’t bully people who had their fists free. He only punched when they were tied up.
“The lady’s busy. You’ll wait.”
“It’s urgent.” Thinus grinned, exposing the perfect, artificially white teeth that had cost his daddy a fortune. “The lady may enjoy it.”
“Outside,” Wayne said with a flick of his head.
Thinus’ stance changed. His arms stood wide away from his body. “What?”
“I said piss outside, or the only thing the lady will enjoy is how far you’ll fly when I use you for discus practice.”
“I’m not a dog! Dogs piss outside.”
“Well, then,” Wayne gave him a lazy smile, “you’re going to have to hold, or it’ll be in your pants.”
“I swear to God, I’ll piss on your shoes,” a red-faced Thinus spat.
“Better take it outside.” Wayne narrowed his eyes. “Because if you soil these boots, you’ll lick them clean and polish them with this nice new shirt your mama ironed for you.” He touched the collar of the spanking white shirt.
A laughing snort came from Jack.
Thinus’ cheeks lit up like two poison apples. He slapped Wayne’s hand away and pushed a bony finger in his face. “Don’t you forget yourself, now.”
Wayne stiffened at the threat. His jail sentence had long since passed, but Thinus still held the conviction like a sword over his head.
“Yeah.” Thinus pulled himself to his full height, his stance filling with self-confidence as he sniffed Wayne’s guilt. “That’s right, murderer. Remember who you are.”
Thinus wasn’t stupid enough to push it. With that verbal victory he stalked outside. It was best to keep him in sight, in case he got it into his dim-witted skull to fetch a gun from his truck. The woman was still in the restroom. What was it with females that took so long?
Leaning in the exit, he waited until Thinus had relieved himself on the tire of his truck, like the fucking dog he said he wasn’t. The green Jeep parked next to his battered Land Cruiser had to belong to the woman. Thinus zipped himself up and gave Wayne a triumphant smile as he shouldered him on his way back into the bar. By that time, the food had arrived and the woman was back on her seat.
She stared at the plate. “There’s gravy on the rice.”
Jack lifted an eyebrow as if to say, ‘So’?
“Gravy comes from meat,” she said.
Jack crossed his arms. “Take it or leave it.”
She sighed, mumbled something about being starved, and then dug in with gusto. After two forkfuls she stopped chewing and frowned. “There’s something wrong with the gravy.”
“Is there something wrong with the gravy, West?” Jack called across the room without diverting his attention from the game.
The woman turned in her seat. She could’ve looked at Thinus or Nelis, but she didn’t. She fixed her leafy green eyes on him, assessing him as if she noticed him for the first time. Maybe she did. Not that he wanted to be noticed.
“No,” he said, a word cut out of cardboard that didn’t carry meaning or significance.
Two more seconds slurred by, the world moving slower, as she probed him in the way people did when they looked for telltale signs of lies. Her gaze wasn’t condescending, or fearful, or judgmental. It was nothing like the looks he’d gotten used to. Curious, maybe. Questioning. If the light in those luminescent eyes were any indication, he’d go as far as to say friendly. Finally, she shrugged and went back to her meal.
The sound of cheering from the flat screen on the wall and the Saturday vibe had gone flat, like the lukewarm rockshandy in his glass. No longer enjoying the game, all he wanted was the peace of the forest and the solitude of his cabin, but he didn’t dare leave until the woman was gone.
She finished every morsel on her plate and asked for the bill. When it came, she stared at Jack. “You can’t charge me full price for a bowl of rice.”
“Not my problem if you don’t eat meat.”
She shook her head but didn’t argue. She left a bill on the counter and lifted her backpack. “The day trail, where does it start?”
Jack moved the matchstick from one corner of his mouth to the other. “Yellow.”
“Follow the yellow markers,” Nelis chirped in. “The path’s well walked out. Can’t miss it.”
“Thanks.” Without another word, she headed for the forest, leaving the Jeep parked in front.
Another ten minutes passed before the cousins got to their feet. There were still twenty minutes left of the match. Ah, hell, he’d kind of expected it but had hoped it wouldn’t come to this. Trouble was the last thing he needed. He couldn’t take the cousins down in front of witnesses, not unless he wanted to risk his parole. Best to give them a head start.
“It ain’t your fight,” Jack said as he pushed his chair back five minutes later.
“Who says I’m joining?”
“She’s SAN. You saw it.”
“Doesn’t mean she deserves to get hurt.”
Jack shook his head. “You’ve got enough enemies.”
“With friends like you, who needs enemies?” he replied drily.
“Fuck you. She had no place coming in here.”
“Yeah.” Wayne tipped his leather ranger hat. “See you.”
Outside, he stopped for his eyes to adjust to the bright sunlight. The cousins’ Chevy was still there. A glance through the back window assured him the dickheads hadn’t taken their hunting rifles. Good. He started jogging toward the path.
Sahara Graham entered the coolness of the forest. Yellow and blackwood trees stretched thirty yards high into the sky, their dense foliage a canopy that threw an eternal shadow over the damp soil below where ferns uncurled delicately. Fungus and moss marked the trunks of the trees. As composting leaves and twigs crunched under her boots, birds scattered to the sky, calling out her presence in alarm. The deeper into the undergrowth she moved, the darker the forest grew, embracing her with isolation and quietness. Not a cricket chirped or a frog croaked in the heart of the Knysna sanctuary where elephants still wandered wild. Not even the highest branches rustled with a breeze.After a good ten-minute hike, she cut away from the path, following the trail of broken foliage. Not far from the forest border she found the first stump. The remains of the amputated trunk stood raw and open in a small clearing, like a severed limb bleeding sap. The wood poachers had cut away the precious cycads at the foot of the yellowwood to make space for their illegal work. She knelt next to a small grave of the dead plants, their roots shriveled and their leaves black. A cycad only grew one inch per year. These had been older than several hundred, judging by their trunks, nine hundred maybe. Dusting the soil from her knees, she moved to the yellowwood. Her fingers skimmed the rings. Four hundred years.
“Your only fault was your value,” she said into the stillness of the forest.
No sound came in reply. It was as if the trees watching over the graveyard of the massacre still held their breath. She turned in a circle, taking in the destruction, its only motivation greed. Sadness filled her heart. Not only were the poachers destroying the forest, but also the last remaining habitat of the elephants.
There were too little of the Knysna elephants left who still roamed the forest, the last of its kind who lived unfenced. Through the years, these graceful and intelligent animals had learned how to survive in the deepest and darkest parts of the protected forest. Despite their big bodies weighing several tons, necessity and survival instinct had taught them to move soundlessly. Hunted mercilessly for their ivory, the animals that had once graced this part of the western coast of South Africa had retreated farther into the dense nature, adapting from a diet of grass to one of forest foliage. Now, the Xhosa tribe living on the northern border of the forest had reported that the bull and the two calves had gone, and that only the old female, who they’d named The Matriarch, was left.
Her job was to ensure the species would survive. Her tasks were twofold–find out how many elephants were left and put a stop to the smuggling of the wood to protect their habitat. Some would say both goals were impossible. The elephants were too good at hiding, forever on the move, and the smugglers made too much money with the priceless yellowwood to give up without a violent fight. Elephant trackers before her had always failed, but she had something on her side that the trackers didn’t have. She had a special gift, an ability that made it possible for her to connect with animal spirits. As for the wood, that part of the job would be tougher.
She left the plundered clearing and ventured back to the path, an uneasiness creeping up on her. The feeling was more than a heaviness of thought and mind because of the evidence of the theft she’d witnessed. A sensation of physical unwellness had taken root in her body. It was like a faint nausea that boiled in her stomach. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it.
Usually, she’d be in her element. In nature was where she experienced her art the strongest, but for some reason she felt disconnected from the animal life. The birds, one of the easier species for her to command, closed themselves to her. They flittered away as if she was foe instead of friend. Her body started to feel heavy and her steps slow, as if gravity had increased tenfold. Wiping away the sweat from her forehead, she leaned against the wooden rail that marked the path, trying to rebalance herself, but instead the world tipped and the landscape crinkled like a heat wave.
Damn, she really didn’t feel well. The perspiration on her skin wasn’t from the exercise. It was the kind of sweat she broke into before emptying her stomach. Tilting her head back, she sucked in the pure air, but the sky started turning. She looked down quickly to find an anchor for her gaze, only to spot a nest of giant snakes around the base of a tree. Snakes didn’t scare her, but these slithered over each other in menacing twirls and loops, loops that looked like a noose meant for strangling. With a loud shriek she scurried backward, escaping the spiked, sizzling tongues that came at her. She reached into the depths of her mind, but her thoughts couldn’t reach these Medusa-like creatures. The sound of their rattle vibrated all the way to her bones. It was a song that could sharpen teeth like a metal file.
Tsssk, tsssk.
Why couldn’t she control them? What was wrong with her? What had happened to her art? The bodies advanced on her, a cesspool of squirming, sand-colored snakes. She reiterated but stumbled over the roots of a tree and fell right into the lap of a giant oak. She pushed up with her back against the trunk, the rough bark biting into her skin with a magnified intensity. Her tongue was thick in her dry mouth. The smell of plant decay and wet earth was a cool vapor that filtered through her nose. All of her senses were heightened.
A flash caught her eye. Something sifting down. It was a huge, brown butterfly. No, a moth. A big, fluttering moth. More followed. They flapped their wings around her face, the poisonous powder of their wings dust particles suspended in the wedge of sun that cut through the branches. She swatted at them, jerking her head from side to side. The roots around her lifted. They weren’t the motionless and solid roots of a tree. They were snakes that writhered under her body.
Her scream punctured the silence, and its echo was a laugh. Male laughter.
In the path, surrounded by falling moths, stood two men, the guys from the bar.
She lifted a hand. “Help. Please.”
The skinny, tall one with the moustache jabbed his friend in the ribs. “Wow, she’s trippin’ big time, man.”
“How much did you put in?” the friend said.
“Only a quarter of a bankie.”
The stickman gurgled another laugh in his throat.
“This is gonna be fun.”
In her strange state of mind, her thoughts were clear enough to realize what was happening. They’d drugged her. Back at the bar. She pushed to her feet, feeling the effort. Shit, she was heavy. Too slow. They’d catch her before she’d taken two steps.
She held up a finger, backtracking. “Stay away, or else…”
The men glanced at each other and burst out laughing.
“Come, now, darlin’,” the stickman said. “We ain’t gonna hurt ya.” His friend, a thickset man with black hair and thin slits for eyes, took a step forward. “Just gotta stay still and Thinus, here,” he pointed at his friend, “and me will show you a real good time.
” She backed away farther. “I’ll have you arrested. I work for the government.”
The fat guy unbuckled his belt. “Now, where’s the crime in sharin’? You gave us your consent,” he said as if it was a big word. “Didn’t she, Thinus?”
“Consent,” Thinus repeated.
She kept on putting distance between them. A weapon. She needed a weapon.
“What’s with the waitin’?” Thinus said. “Get her, already.”
“Nah.” His friend started taking off his shoes. “I want a good chase.”
She didn’t wait to hear more. Spotting a rock in the path, she grabbed the heavy stone and hurled it at the fat man. It zinged past his head, missing his ear by an inch.
“Oooh.” Thinus cackled like a scrawny hen and jumped up and down. “She’s got claws.”She couldn’t fight them off, not the two of them, but she was fast. At least, she was fast when not drugged. Still, flight was her only chance. She turned and broke into a sprint.
Her heart protested and her limbs refused to cooperate. It was like in a big, bad dream, running in place. No matter how hard she pushed her body forward, she was not gaining ground. Too damn slow. Footsteps followed, advancing. Closer. From somewhere farther behind there was a third voice.
“Stop!”
She worked her elbows. There was a breath in her neck and a tug on her ponytail. They had her! She jerked with all of her might, a sharp sting assaulting her scalp that had her eyes tear up, mixing with the salty sweat that ran from her forehead. It burned and blinded her, but she was free.
“Stop!” that far-off voice said again.
After relocating to Chile with her French husband, she fulfilled her passion to write creatively full-time. Charmaine has published eleven novels since 2011, as well as several short stories and articles. Two of her short stories were selected for publication in an African anthology from across the continent by the International Society of Literary Fellows in conjunction with the International Research Council on African Literature and Culture.
When she is not writing, she likes to travel, read, and rescue cats. Charmaine currently lives in Montpellier with her husband and children. Their household is a linguistic mélange of Afrikaans, English, French and Spanish.
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5. carnival
Unlike many of the other members of the sideshow, I didn’t have a specific job. My mom was a fortune- teller, Gideon did a magic show, Zeke had his tigers, Brendon and his family did acrobatics, Seth was a strongman. My best friend Roxie Smith was in two acts— she helped out Zeke, and did a peepshow revue with two other girls.
I had no talent. No special ability, making me essentially a roadie. I did what was needed of me, which usually involved helping set up and take down, and various menial tasks. I cleaned the tiger cages and emptied out latrines when I had to. It wasn’t a glamorous job, but it was crucial to our way of life.
Since Roxie worked with the tigers, Mahilā actually tolerated her. Roxie was helping me clean out the tiger cage they traveled in. The cage was open to a fenced-in enclosure Seth had built, so the tigers could roam as they pleased.
Safēda lounged in the grass, the sun shining brightly on her white fur. Whenever we stopped, Safēda seemed content to just lay in the sun, sleeping the entire time, but as the older tiger, it made sense.
Mahilā paced along the fence, occasionally emitting an irritated guttural noise in between casting furtive glances back toward Roxie and me. Her golden fur was mottled with scars from her past life in the abusive circus, including a nasty one that ran across her nose.
“So where did you go last night?” Roxie asked, her voice lilting in a sing song playful way. She was out in the run, using a hose to fill up a blue plastic kiddie pool so the tigers could play in it, while I was on my hands and knees scrubbing dung off the cage floor.
Her bleached blond hair was pulled back in a ponytail, and the sleeves of her white T- shirt were rolled up, revealing her well-toned arms. The cut- off jean shorts she wore barely covered her bum, and her old cowboy boots went up to her knees— her chosen footwear anytime she was at risk of stepping in tiger poop.
With fair skin, full lips, large blue eyes, and a dainty nose, Roxie was pretty and deceptively tough. Being a beautiful carnie was not an easy job, and dancing in the revue under the stage name “Foxy Roxie” didn’t help that. But she made decent money doing it, and Roxie never put up with anybody’s crap. I’d seen her deck guys much bigger than her and lay them out flat on their backs.
“I was just at a party,” I said as I rinsed the brush off in a bucket of bleach and warm water.
“A party?” Roxie looked over at me with a hand on her hip.
“How’d you get invited to a party so fast?”
I shrugged. “I was just exploring town, and I saw some people hanging outside of this big house party, and they invited me in.”
“So what are the people like here? Are they nice?”
Safēda had gotten up and climbed into the pool, and then she flopped down in it, splashing Roxie as she did. Roxie took a step back, but kept looking at me.
“I don’t know. The people I met last night seemed nice, and they were superrich, so that bodes well for the town, I guess.”
“Like how rich?” Roxie asked.
“Like their house is practically a mansion.” I dropped the brush in the water and sat back on my knees, taking a break to talk to her. “It was the nicest house I’ve ever been in, hands down.”
“Is that why you spent the night there?”
Roxie understood my fascination with houses. Well, “understood” wasn’t the right word. It was more like she knew of it, but didn’t understand it all. She’d grown up in an upper- middleclass family, in nice houses with basements, and thought they were about as boring and lame as she could imagine.
“Partly.” I nodded. “It was a really amazing house. There were pillars out front, and the front hall was bigger than my trailer.”
“It’s just a house, Mara.” Roxie shook her head.
“I know but . . .” I trailed off, trying to think of how to explain it to her. “You know how you felt when you first joined the sideshow two years ago? How everything seemed so exciting and fun, and I was like, ‘We live in cramped trailers. It kinda sucks.’”
Roxie nodded. “Yeah. But I still think this life is a million times better than my old life. I get to see everything. I get to decide things for myself. I can leave whenever I want. There’s nothing to hold me back or tie me down.”
She’d finished filling up the pool, so she twisted the nozzle on the hose to shut it off. Stepping carefully over an old tire and a large branch that the tigers used as toys, she went to the edge of the run and tossed the hose over the fence, before Mahilā
decided to play with it and tore it up.
She walked over to the cage and scraped her boots on the edge, to be sure she didn’t track any poop inside, before climbing up inside it.
“So what was the other reason?” Roxie asked.
I kept scrubbing for a moment and didn’t look up at her when I said, “Gabe.”
“Gabe?” Roxie asked. “That sounds like a boy’s name.”
“That’s because it is.”
“Did you have sex with him?”
“No.” I shot her a look. “We just made out a little.”
“What what what?” Luka Zajiček happened to be walking by just in time to hear that, and he changed his course to walk over to the tiger cage. “Is that what you were up to last night?”
“That’s what sucks about living in a community so small. Whenever anything happens, everybody knows about it right away,” I muttered.
Luka put his arms through the cage bars and leaned against it, in the area I’d cleaned already. Since he was rather short, the floor came up to his chest, and his black hair fell into his eyes.
His eyes were the same shade of gray as mine, but his olive skin was slightly lighter than mine. We first met him when he joined the carnival four years ago, and the first thing my mom said was that she was certain that we were related somehow.
Unfortunately, Mom knew next to nothing about our family tree to be able to prove it. All she could really tell me was that we were a mixture of Egyptian, Turkish, and Filipino, with a bit of German thrown in for good measure.
Luka had been born in Czechoslovakia, but he’d moved here with his family when he was young, so he’d lost his accent.
He had recently roped me into helping him with a trick. He’d stand with his back against a wall, while I fi red a crossbow around him. Originally, Blossom had been the one to help him, but she kept missing and shooting him in the leg or arm, so he’d asked me to do it because I had a steadier hand.
“So you made out with some local guy last night?” Luka asked, smirking at me. “Are you gonna see him again?”
“He’s a local guy. What do you think?” I asked, and gave him a hard look.
Luka shrugged. “Sometimes you bump into them again.”
“And that goes so well when they find out that I work and live with a traveling sideshow,” I said.
The floor was spotless, or at least as spotless as tiger cages can get, and I tossed my brush in the bucket and took off my yellow rubber gloves.
“We can’t all meet our boyfriends in the sideshow,” I reminded Luka as I stood up, and it only made him grin wider. He’d been dating Tim— one of the Flying Phoenixes— for the past three months.
“But you didn’t see Blossom anywhere in town last night?” Roxie asked, and Luka’s smile instantly fell away.
A sour feeling stirred in my stomach, and I looked out around camp through the bars of the cage, as if Blossom would suddenly appear standing beside a trailer. As I’d been doing my chores all morning, I kept scanning the campsite for her, expecting her to return at any moment with a funny story about how she’d gotten lost in town.
But so far, she hadn’t. And the longer she went without coming back, the worse the feeling in my stomach got. I shook my head. “No. I didn’t see her at all last night.”
“She’s gotta turn up, though, right?” Luka asked. “I mean, it’s not like there are really that many places she could’ve gone considering she has no money or car and she’s in a small town.”
The tigers were still down in the run, so I opened the side gate and hopped down out of the cage. Roxie got out behind me, then we closed the door.
“I should talk to Gideon,” I decided as Roxie locked the cage up behind me. “It’s not like Blossom to do this.”
“It’s not totally unlike her, though,” Roxie pointed out.
“When we were in Toledo six months ago, she dis appeared for a few days with that weird commune, and came back just before we were leaving, totally baked out of her mind.”
Blossom had grown up with parents who pretended to be hippies but were really just a couple of drug addicts. That— along with her unexplainable telekinesis— led to her dabbling with drugs and alcohol at a young age, before the state intervened and shipped her off to a group home.
My mom tried to keep her clean of her bad habits, but sometimes Blossom just liked to run off and do her own thing. That wasn’t that unusual for people who lived in the carnival.
“But if you’re worried, you should talk to Gideon,” Roxie suggested. “Luka’s right in that Blossom really couldn’t have gone far. Maybe you can scope out Caudry.”
“Since that sounds like a mission that may take a bit of time, can you help me and Hutch with the museum before you talk to Gideon?” Luka asked. “The exit door is jammed, and we can’t get it open, and Seth is busy helping set up the tents.”
“Sure. Between me and Mara, I’m sure the two of us can get the door unstuck,” Roxie said.
I dropped off the bucket with the other tiger supplies, and then followed Roxie and Luka away from our campsite to the fairgrounds on the other side of a chain- link fence. We always stayed close to the rides, the midway, and the circus tent, but we didn’t actually sleep there. It was much better for every one if we kept our private lives separate from the crowds.
Many of the games were already set up, and the Ferris wheel was in the process of being erected as we passed. Near the end of the midway was a long black trailer painted with all kinds of frightening images of werewolves and specters, along with happier pictures of mermaids and unicorns, and the sign was written in bloodred:
Beneath that were several smaller signs warning “Enter at your own risk. The creatures inside can be DISTURBING and cause NIGHTMARES.”
The entrance to the left was open, but the exit door at the other end was still shut. Wearing a pair of workman’s gloves, Hutch was pulling at the door with all his might. His neon green tank showed that his muscles were flexed and straining in effort. The bandana kept his dark brown hair off his face, but sweat was dripping down his brow.
“Let me have a try, Hutch,” Roxie said.
“What?” He turned to look back at her. “Door’s stuck.”
“I can see that. That’s why I said let me have a try.”
“Okay.” Hutch shrugged and stepped back.
Hutch’s real name was Donald Hutchence, but nobody ever called him anything but Hutch. He didn’t have any special powers, unless you considered being really agreeable and easygoing a super power, so, like me, he was left doing whatever else needed to be done.
Roxie grabbed the door and started pulling on it, and when it didn’t budge, I joined her.
“Luka, go and push from the inside,” Roxie commanded through gritted teeth.
Both Luka and Hutch went inside, pushing as Roxie and I pulled. And then all at once, the door gave way, and we all fell back on the gravel. I landed on my back, scraping my elbow on the rocks.
Roxie made it out unscathed, and Hutch fell painfully on top of me, so he’d avoided injury. Luka crashed right on the gravel, though, and the rocks tore through his jeans and ripped up his knees and the palms of his hands pretty badly.
“Do you need me to get a Band- Aid or anything?” Hutch asked as he helped me to my feet.
“No, I’ll be okay.” I glanced over at Luka and the blood dripping down his knees. “What about you? Do you want anything?”
“Nah. Just give it a few minutes.” Luka waved it off and sat down on the steps leading up to the museum door.
No matter how many times I saw it, I couldn’t help but watch. His knee was shredded, with bits of gravel sticking in the skin. Right before my eyes, the bleeding stopped, and the rocks started falling out, as if pushed by his flesh, and the skin grew back, reattaching itself where it had been little mangled flaps.
Within a few minutes, Luka’s knee was healed completely.
Copyright © 2017 by Amanda Hocking and reprinted by permission of St. Martin’s Griffin.
I loved Amanda Hocking and her books. And when I read the blurb to this book, I was immediately hooked. However, I did not enjoy it as much as I was expecting.
The overall story of this book was great. That’s what kept me glued to the pages. I love the idea of the sideshow and all the characters involved. They were very interesting and I wish we could have gotten to know more about them. But I get that this book revolved around Mara and her family in the carnival.
While I enjoyed the characters and their abilities, I had a hard time connecting to any of them. And it’s not that because this is a YA book, but I just don’t think any of them were as well developed as her other books. And the whole insta-love thing between Gabe and Mara just seemed to far fetched for me. I understand they have unique gifts and that’s the underlying part of how they connect so quickly, but without feeling any connection to them, everything just felt off and hard to believe.
Overall, the book is a good read. There wasn’t a point that I wanted to walk away. As I said, the overall story kept me glued and had me wanting to know what was going on. Just don’t expect to get too attached to any characters or anything along those lines.
AMANDA HOCKING Q&A
Your characters are sent into the Hunger Games. Who wins?
If it’s just the characters from FREEKS, and only one could win, I would put my money on Luka or maybe Roxie. Luka because he can heal from injuries, which gives him a crazy advantage, but Roxie is smart and she’s a survivor. Plus, she has the power of pyrokinesis, which I think I would come in handy in a battle to the death.
What do you listen to while you write? Or do you prefer silence?
I almost always listen to music when I write, unless I’m writing a really difficult scene. Sometimes the silence helps me focus, but most of the time, I prefer music. For FREEKS, I got to make a really fun 80s playlist, so I especially enjoyed working to that.
What is the most embarrassing thing you’ve looked up in the name of research – or what do you think the government has maybe flagged you for?
There are sooo many things. For FREEKS, I had to do fun stuff like, “What does a dead body smell like?” and “How much blood can a human lose?” And then after those macabre questions, I did a bunch of googling on fireflies and tarot cards. My search history when I’m working can be pretty exciting like that.
What was your favorite part of writing FREEKS?
I love Southern Gothics and I love pulpy 80s horror movies, so I was excited to be able incorporate those things in FREEKS. But my favorite part was actually Mara and Gabe. I think they complement each other well, and it was fun writing their banter and flirtations.
Which actor/actress would you like to see playing your main characters from FREEKS?
For Mara, I envisioned Cassie Steele from the start. I used to be a hardcore Degrassi fan, and I loved Cassie Steele on that. For Gabe, I like Ryan Guzman. I saw him in a Jennifer Lopez movie, and I was like, “Yep. That could be Gabe.”
Do you have a special time to write or how is your day structured?
I usually write between 11 am and 7 pm. I’ve tried to write earlier in the day and have more of a 8-5 type schedule, but I am not a morning person. My brain just doesn’t want to work much before noon.
Do you aim for a set amount of words/pages per day?
I usually have a goal in mind before I start writing, but it varies. Some days, it’s slow going and I hope to get at least 500 words out. Other days, I fly through with thousands of words. So it depends on where I’m at in the book, when it’s due, and how I’m feeling about the whole thing.
When you develop your characters, do you already have an idea of who they are before you write or do you let them develop as you go?
With all my main characters, I have a really good idea of who they are, and it’s just a matter of showing that to the readers. With the side characters, they tend to be rather one-dimensional, and they grow into the story as they’re needed.
How did writing Freeks differ from your writing your previous novels?
FREEKS was the first thing I had written in awhile that was started out just for me. For most of the past ten years, I have been writing my books with the intention of publishing them, with the audience and readers and trends in mind. I think I had gotten a little burnt out on trying to make everyone happy (mostly because it is impossible to please all readers all the time), and I just wanted to write something that for the sake of writing it.
And that turned out to be a gothic love story about a teenage girl travelling with a band of misfits in the 1980s. It was a very cathartic writing experience for me, and it reminded me of exactly why I loved writing in the first place – I love getting lost in the world, with the characters.
If Freeks had a theme song what would it be?
Either “Hush” by Limousines or “Head Over Heels” by Tears For Fears.
Can you please tell us a little bit about Freeks and where you got the inspiration to write it?
I was going through a rough patch, creatively speaking, and so I just sat back and tried to think of my favorite and what I loved most that I would want to write about.
When I was a kid, I used to get old books at garage sales all the time, and I distinctly remember getting Cycle of the Werewolf by Stephen King and a few old V. C. Andrews novels, which are pulpy Southern Gothic-esque novels. I also watched The Lost Boys and Pretty in Pink over and over again (I think I literally ruined the old VHS of The Lost Boys from watching it too much).
So I basically threw all those things together in a soup, and I picked apart the things I liked and wanted to explore more. That became a travelling sideshow in the 80s stopping Louisiana, where a supernatural monster is afoot, and a girl from the wrong side of the tracks who is smith with a local boy with secrets of his own.
Freeks is full of many amazingly talented characters and I imagine it was really fun to create some of them, but which one was your favorite and why?
Mara and Gabe are my obvious favorites, since they’re the main characters because I was drawn to them and their story the most. Both of them of them have complex feelings about family and personal identity, and their instant chemistry was fun to write.
But I think Gideon – the namesake and head of sideshow – was actually the biggest surprise, which made him fun in a different way. In the original outlines of the story, he was much a different character – very one-note and cruel – but he completely changed and evolved as I was writing.
The book is based off of a type of traveling circus that is full of many mysterious acts. If you were to attend a Freekshow, which act would you want to see most?
My favorites are usually the acrobatics, but I think if I attended Gideon Davorin’s Traveling Sideshow, I would be most excited to see Gideon’s magic act. With his skills and knowledge, I think it would be a really amazing show.
What do you hope readers will take away from FREEKS after reading it?
With some of my other novels, I deal with heavy themes like life and death, identity, honor, mortality, classism, and family. And while I do definitely touch on those themes in FREEKS, I mostly wrote it as an escape for myself, and that’s what I hope it is for other readers. Life can be hard and frustrating, and I just wanted to write a fun book that readers could get lost in for awhile.
What is something people would be surprised to know about you?
Probably how chronically shy I am. Writing is a weird profession, because a good 90% of it is perfect for introverts – you sit alone by yourself and make up imaginary friends to go on adventures. But the last 10% – which involves introducing the whole word to your imaginary friends – is the most exciting and rewarding part, but it’s also the most difficult when you’re as shy as I am.
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Never met a male siren before?
You’re about to….
I grew up as a prince…
And lead the life of a King.
There isn’t anyone or anything that doesn’t want me, that isn’t attracted to me. They can’t help it. And I sure as hell don’t want them to. I live for their lust, I crave touch like an addiction, I make them beg on their knees for one, simple, caress.
As a male siren it’s my job to feed off emotion.
And I was happy to do it.
I am happy to do it.
What I’m not happy about? Being told I have to mate with some withering human and stay loyal to that one person for the next few centuries. There’s a war coming and being the idiot I am–I offered to take one for the team in order to help a friend.
Now my sexual appetite is taking a freaking kick in the nuts.
And I’m left wondering if it’s worth it.
If she’s worth it, with messy hair and dirty human hands.
But I have a world to save.
A job to do.
Now, if only, she would just let me do it rather than fighting me at every turn. I’ve lived lifetimes as the most irresistible being on the planet.
Only to meet my match.
With one.
Measly.
Human.
They say hells hot. They’re wrong.
Because Hope, my little human, is way hotter.
And before this is over–she may just singe me alive.
To say I was pissed.
To say I was angry
To say I was intrigued.
I couldn’t decide which emotion was going to win out, which made her all the more exciting. Sirens, for the most part, kept their physical appearance at a five. On a scale of one to ten, a five meant that you were clearly above average but not to the point that a person would literally sell a kidney and spleen in order to sleep with you.
No, the selling of body parts came at six.
Seven meant they were willing to commit a crime and sell body parts.
Eight was when they neared the wailing stage. I typically called it bartering, where they asked what they could possibly do in order to gain just one taste, anything, anything at all!
Nine was a rarity. I was a nine when I was tired, when I wanted a piece of ass from someone hot, and I didn’t want to make a big fuss over it. But a nine was dangerous because showing myself at a nine made it easier to wipe the individuals’ memories. Meaning I was more than likely cursing them to a life where they would never settle down because they’d be stuck comparing me to some sad human male with a beer gut, and he’d always fall short.
Even the Toms fell short.
Tom Brady.
Tom Hardy.
You get the picture.
In my entire existence, I’ve pulled a nine maybe four times. And each time I felt regretful — after all the sex had never been worthy of ruining some pathetic human’s chance at love.
And tens?
Tens weren’t done. To become a ten in front of a human would be the equivalent of a human discovering the sweetest tasting sin, the most physical and emotional ecstasy known over and over again. Add that in with good looks that made women, men, plants, atoms — you get the picture — full-on weep, and it just wasn’t done.
Never.
In fact, some might say it was forbidden.
I’d never been tempted.
Until five minutes ago.
I was currently at an eight, flirting with a ten, and she’d finally succumbed enough to fall to her knees, but when she glanced up, she blinked a few times then stood. “Sorry, I don’t know what happened.”
The hell?
I did a double take, my eyes narrowing as she shuddered before me, but still, nothing. No weeping. No sudden burst of adoration.
Nine, here I come.
I exhaled as I allowed my hair to go pure gold and my eyes to turn a shade of amber that looked like a never-ending ring of fire around my blue iris. I released waves of energy that I could see pulsing from my body with each exhale, and I was aware that she was being assaulted with my scent, a mixture of rain, fresh air, and finally a deep sweet chocolate.
The most addicting scents known to mankind.
The most cleansing scents to a human.
Her eyes widened as she gulped and then squeezed them shut and covered her face with her hands, her knees knocked together as she swayed.
“Open your eyes, human!”
“I-I’d rather not,” she said in a weak voice.
“Now!” The walls of the room shook causing a shriek to explode between her lips, and suddenly she was moving towards me and launching her plump body into the air.
Directly onto mine.
Mine.
My body.
Without any other option, I braced myself for her impact. Not that she could physically harm me, it was more of a mental brace of, oh shit the woman might be plump, but she moved with the speed of a torpedo.
I caught her in my arms.
The shaking stopped.
Her hands clung to the front of my shirt, her breathing was unsteady, her body sweaty, hot, and curvy.
I appreciated all types of beauty.
Even hers.
I would have preferred a small mate, one that I could terrify into submission — one I had no risk of falling in love with.
Because a siren in love — was a dangerous thing.
And a part of me wondered if that was what Cassius had planned all along. In order for me to be at my strongest, I needed to be in love.
Something I’d never experienced in all of my years of living, screwing, and toying with males and females alike.
“What.” I gave her a menacing glare. “The hell, do you think you’re doing?”
“I’m scared of earthquakes,” she whispered, licking her lips repeatedly until I thought I was going to go mad with the motion of her tongue sliding across the pink of her mouth. “Terrified, actually.”
“This is Seattle.” I was still holding her, for reasons beyond my realm of understanding.
“They say the next earthquake is going to be really big and half of downtown is going to slide into the Puget Sound, so excuse me for being scared!”
“And you live downtown?”
“Well… no.” Her brown eyes focused in on mine.
“Then you must visit there often?”
“No.”
I sighed impatiently. “So your fears are completely unfounded and illogical. Simply stop fearing it.”
“Easy for you to say.”
“I tire of holding you, human.” The lie fell easy; in fact, I had forgotten I was holding her until she fidgeted in my arms like she was the offended party, when I was the one who had just been assaulted. “The only thing you need to fear is me.”
“Because you…” She sighed. “You’re going to sacrifice me?”
I tried to hold the laugh in.
But it was all too ridiculous.
“Yes.” I nodded seriously, my lips twitching with the urge to smile. “The process will be painless. I’ll tie your hands and feet to the bedposts — strip you naked, and then plunge an immortal sword into your heart. You’ll need to repeat the words ut animam meam and then once you drink my blood — if it accepts you, you will live.”
Her face paled as she struggled to get out of my arms.
And then I lost it, dropping her back to her feet, laughing so hard I felt my body shook with it.
“I don’t even remember the phrase!” Her wild eyes darted between me and the bed, clearly not catching on. Joke. It was a joke.
“Well,” I lifted a shoulder and shrugged. “Then I guess you die.”
“But—”
“Better do it quickly, less pain that way.”
“What about the plants?”
My smile froze. “Either you’re extremely simple minded or mentally ill. What the hell are you talking about?”
“The—” She tugged at her low ponytail. “The plants, you know, around the grounds. I take care of them and Cassius—” Her eyes lit up. “Cassius said I was getting a promotion, so sorry, but you can’t kill me.”
I grinned. “Okay.”
She frowned.
I was still confused how she was shielding herself from my essence, but already I was mentally drained from the energy it took to get her to worship me — instead I returned to my normal everyday state and held out my hand.
She stared at it.
“Take my hand.”
“No.” She swallowed. “I think I’ll just wait for Cassius.”
“He’s already mated.”
Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not mating him.”
“No.” This, this was my favorite part, watching humans try to logically put together all of the pieces of the puzzle only to realize their brains were too small to comprehend the different parts they held, the angles, the colors, “You’re going to mate with me.”
I expected her to cry.
Maybe throw something.
Instead, she froze and then with a scream ran head first directly into my body sending me sailing backward against the marble floor.
I was caught unaware.
Meaning, I barely had time to stop myself before my head slammed back against the hard ground.
She tried to run toward the door.
“Cat and mouse.” I sighed from my position on the ground. “I always did like foreplay.”
She jerked against the doors with fervor, I’d give her that, but they wouldn’t budge.
Not until she was mine.
Not until the doors sensed my blood running through her veins.
“Why won’t it open?” Her voice was strangled as pieces of her hair fell out of its restraint and brushed against her shoulders. “You can’t keep me here forever.”
“I can.” I yawned. “I will.”
My friend, Christine, said it best when it comes to Alex. “Le Sigh.”
Dark Surrender is Alex’s story. He’s the next immortal that needs to be mated in order for them to reach their full strength. If you’ve read the previous books, you will know that he volunteered himself so Mason could still mourn his mate. As Alex would call – It’s the Immortal version of the Hunger Games. HAHA
Alex has to choose a human as his mate, as do all immortals. But he’s a siren so choosing a mate and being able to find true love with them, for him that seems an impossible feat. Until Hope. But Hope isn’t enchanted or bewitched by Alex’s beauty. And he finds out quickly, she’s not exactly human either. And that’s something that both Alex and Hope are surprised by.
Rachel’s stories, whether they are paranormal, romantic suspense or contemporary romance, she is able to suck you into their world. You can easily picture everything that is going on around you. And Dark Surrender is no different. I saw everything single moment play out before be as if I was watching a movie. And she’s able to write the perfect mix of humor into some pretty damn serious situations. And it’s not cheesy at all!
I don’t think Rachel will ever be able to write a sh*tty story. There, I’ve said it. She’s an extremely talented writer. There isn’t a story of hers that I have no read and loved.
Another fantastic read to add to The Dark One Saga. I can’t wait to read Mason’s story next!!
Side note – you can read each book as a standalone. However, I HIGHLY recommend reading them in order to get the true understanding of each character and how they are all intertwined together. Plus there’s an overall backstory involving every character that plays out in each book.
Haven’t read this series yet?
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Untouchable Darkness (Book Two) $1.99
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Rachel Van Dyken is the New York Times, Wall Street Journal, and USA Today Bestselling author of regency and contemporary romances. When she’s not writing you can find her drinking coffee at Starbucks and plotting her next book while watching The Bachelor.
She keeps her home in Idaho with her Husband, adorable son, and two snoring boxers! She loves to hear from readers!

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Purchase PERSONAL APOCALYPSE on Amazon
ABOUT THE AUTHOR:

Nazarea Andrews (N to almost everyone) is an avid reader and tends to write the stories she wants to read. Which means she writes everything from zombies and dystopia to contemporary love stories. When not writing, she can most often be found driving her kids to practice and burning dinner while she reads, or binging watching TV shows on Netflix. N loves chocolate, wine, and coffee almost as much as she loves books, but not quite as much as she loves her kids. She lives in south Georgia with her husband, daughters, spoiled cat and overgrown dog. She is the author of World Without End series, Neverland Found, Edge of the Falls, and The University of Branton Series. Stop by her twitter (@NazareaAndrews) and tell her what fantastic book she should read next.
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About The Darkest Torment (Lords of the Underworld)Print Length: 512 pages
Publisher: HQN Books (June 1, 2016)
New York Times bestselling author Gena Showalter returns with her most explosive Lords of the Underworld tale to date, about a fierce warrior on the brink of sanity who will stop at nothing to claim the exquisite human with the power to soothe the beast inside him…
Driven to his death by the demon of Distrust, Baden spent centuries in purgatory. Now he’s back, but at what cost? Bound to the king of the underworld, an even darker force, he’s unable to withstand the touch of another…and he’s quickly devolving into a heartless assassin with an uncontrollable temper. Things only get worse when a mission goes awry and he finds himself saddled with a bride—just not his own.
Famed dog trainer Katarina Joelle is forced to marry a monster to protect her loved ones. When she’s taken hostage by the ruthless, beautiful Baden immediately after the ceremony, she’s plunged into a war between two evils—with a protector more dangerous than the monsters he hunts. They are meant to be enemies, but neither can resist the passion burning between them…and all too soon the biggest threat is to her heart.
But as Baden slips deeper into the abyss, she’ll have to teach him to love…or lose him forever.
“Gena Showalter is a romantic genius.” -San Francisco Book Review
“Showalter writes fun, sexy characters you fall in love with!” -Lori Foster, New York Times bestselling author
“The Showalter name on a book means guaranteed entertainment.” -RT Book Reviews
The Darkest Torment is book twelve in author Gena Showalter’s Lords of the Underworld series, a series I have been loving for years. I am always so exited for a new installment in this series and once again, Ms. Showalter nails it. I adored Baden and Katarina’s story!
Baden and Katarina’s relationship starts off in quite a bit of turmoil when Baden, in search of an item he must steal in order to not only attempt to find a bit of relief from the new being inhabiting his soul but also to appease his new master, bursts into her wedding and starts making demands from her new husband. Of course, as it turns out, this isn’t exactly a husband she’s thrilled to be married to and her main concern quickly goes from just getting by to surviving and keeping her beloved dogs safe. Turns out this is only the beginning of what will become a story of twists, turns, emotion, heat, and even humor.
I love the internal struggles the Lords go through. I love that in each book we get a closer look at a specific character and getting to know more of Baden in this book was so fantastic. You can’t help but fall in love with these guys. Baden was gruff and short with everyone. Pretty darn unlikable. But because we get to read what he’s thinking and what he’s going through, you’ll end up loving him and will totally understand why he is the way he is. Katarina is equally as fantastic a character. I loved her feisty, spitfire attitude and her ability to keep a somewhat level head in some seriously stressful situations. Then, she goes from all of that already awesomeness to a total badass! Baden and Katarina’s relationship is one helluva enemies to lovers that I just adored reading and I know you will to.
Another one of the things I love about this series is that not only do we meet new characters along the way, but we get to see all of our favorite characters form the very beginning of the series. They really have turned into a family of sorts and to have been able to read that from the beginning is so special. While I’m sure you can pick up each book and read it alone, I think reading the series as a whole is an amazing journey and one I highly recommend!
Thank you, Ms. Showalter, for another amazing story! I can’t wait to see what you have in store for the Lords next.
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About Gena ShowalterGena Showalter is the New York Times and USA TODAY bestselling author of over fifty books, including the acclaimed Lords of the Underworld and Angels of the Dark series, and the White Rabbit Chronicles. She writes sizzling paranormal romance, heartwarming contemporary romance, and unputdownable young adult novels, and lives in Oklahoma City with her family and menagerie of dogs. Visit her at GenaShowalter.com.
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Wednesday, November 30th: Reading Reality
Wednesday, November 30th: Reader Girls
Friday, December 2nd: Urban Girl Reader
Friday, December 2nd: Drey’s Library – excerpt
Monday, December 5th: Read Love Blog
Tuesday, December 6th: Books a la Mode – excerpt
Wednesday, December 7th: From the TBR Pile
Wednesday, December 7th: Harlie’s Books
Friday, December 9th: Books that Hook
Monday, December 12th: Lampshade Reader – Gena’s Top 10 Favorite Quotes from The Darkest Torment
Monday, December 12th: Books Without Any Picture
Wednesday, December 14th: Mom in Love with Fiction
Friday, December 16th: The Romance Dish – excerpt
Monday, December 19th: Stuck in Books
Wednesday, December 21st: Snowdrop Dreams of Books – excerpt
Friday, December 23rd: Stranded in Chaos
Monday, December 26th: 100 Pages a Day – excerpt
Tuesday, December 27th: A Night’s Dream of Books
Wednesday, December 28th: Written Love Reviews
Wednesday, December 28th: Lovely Reads
Dannika Dark is the USA Today Bestselling Author of Urban Fantasy Romance and Paranormal Romance. Her books have sold more than 1 million copies worldwide, and she is a 2016 Audie Awards finalist.



We are thrilled to bring you the Review & Excerpt Tour for MIDNIGHT UNTAMED by Lara Adrian, a novella in her Midnight Breed Series brought to you by 1001 Dark Nights. Grab your copy of this sexy novella today!

Lara Adrian’s MIDNIGHT UNTAMED – Review & Excerpt Tour Schedule:
October 12th
Hart’s Romance Pulse – Excerpt
2OCC Reviews – Review
A Fortress of Books – Review
Coffee Books Life – Review & Excerpt
Shayna Renee’s Spicy Reads – Review & Excerpt
Nice Ladies, Naughty Books – Excerpt
Reading in Pajamas – Excerpt
October 13th
Adria’s Romance Reviews – Review
Books That Hook – Review & Excerpt
Books,Dreams,Life – Excerpt
Evermore Books – Review & Excerpt
That’s What I’m Talking About – Review
Straight Shootin’ Book Reviews – Review
Hannah’s Words – Review & Excerpt
October 14th
Books, Coffee & Passion – Excerpt
Majorly Delicious – Review
Tome Tender – Excerpt
Books, Baking and Other Objects of Beauty – Review
Guilty Pleasures Book Reviews – Review & Excerpt
K&J Book Promotions – Excerpt
October 15th
Lucky 13 – Excerpt
The Reading Cafe – Review & Excerpt
Diane’s Book Blog – Review
Reading Between the Wines Book Club – Excerpt
Vagabonda Reads – Review & Excerpt
October 16th
Ramblings From This Chick – Excerpt
Loves Great Reads Blog – Review & Excerpt
Nerdy Dirty & Flirty – Review
Sofia Loves Books – Review
October 17th
Literary Misfit – Review & Excerpt
Rantings of a Reading Addict – Review & Excerpt
SnoopDoo’s Book Reviews – Excerpt
Rock Out With Sweet Reads – Excerpt
October 18th
Booknista – Review & Excerpt
Angel’s Guilty Pleasures – Excerpt
Read-Love-Blog – Excerpt
Feeling Fictional – Review & Excerpt
Wicked Babes Blog Reviews – Review
GraveTells – Excerpt
October 19th
Becky on Books – Excerpt
The Romance Reviews – Review
Queen of All She Reads – Excerpt
Lynn’s Romance Enthusiasm – Excerpt
The Silver Dagger Scriptorium – Review & Excerpt
BFD Book Blog – Review & Excerpt
October 20th
G & T’s Indie Café – Excerpt
KatyaRath – Review & Excerpt
Knotty Girl Reviews – Review
Romance Reviews and More – Review & Excerpt
Bookgatherer – Excerpt
October 21st
Romancing the Readers – Review
EskieMama Reads – Excerpt
What Is That Book About – Excerpt
Shelf Life – Review


It’s been years since Savage last saw beautiful Arabella Genova. Years he’s strived to banish to his past, along with the fierce desire he once felt toward Bella . . . and the irresistible calling of her blood that stirs in him even now, despite the fact that she belongs to another male.
But when fate throws Savage and Bella together again in a race for their lives, will his long-lost love prove to be the one woman he can’t live without, or the perfect weapon to destroy him?
Arabella knew better than to keep Massioni waiting. He’d sent her away to fetch her scrying bowl while he entertained his boot-licking cronies in the grand salon. They were gloating over a large payout from a shipment of Red Dragon to the States and the United Kingdom—a narcotic that destroyed the minds of their own kind, the Breed, creating blood-addicted monsters from just the smallest dose. They didn’t care that their sudden windfall came at the expense of both Breed and human lives. She had learned a long time ago that Vito Massioni’s greed knew no bounds.
Nor did his violence.
That her gift had helped him amass his growing fortune, and the power that came with it, made Arabella want to retch.
How often had she thought about giving him a false reading from her scrying bowl?
How many times had she dreaded that her visions would one day prove incorrect?
But she hadn’t deceived him, not once.
And, thankfully, her visions had never been wrong.
Either of those failings would come at the cost of innocent lives. Not her own, but the people she cared about most in the world. The only family she had left now.
It was those precious lives she held close in her heart as she walked over to the cabinet across the room and retrieved the hammered gold bowl she would need for her reading downstairs. In reality, her gift would awaken when she peered into any standing pool of liquid, but Massioni insisted she use the ridiculous carnival fortune-teller’s style bowl for dramatic effect whenever she performed a public reading.
Cradling the shallow bowl in her palms, she drew the empty vessel out of the cabinet. Her own face stared back at her in the reflection on the polished gold basin—but that wasn’t all.
Behind her stood the ominous shape of someone else.
A man.
Tall, immense.
An intruder dressed entirely in black tactical gear.
Bella sucked in a startled breath.
Fear streaked through her, but before her shriek could rip up the back of her throat, a broad palm came up to cover her mouth.
Oh, God.
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Direct Link: https://video214.com/play/8l51MQrU143hd56W0kagqw/s/dark
About Lara Adrian:
Lara Adrian is the New York Times, USA Today and #1 internationally bestselling author ofthe Midnight Breed vampire romance series and seven award-winning, historical romances, previously released under the pen name Tina St. John.
Lara’s Midnight Breed series is available in hardcover, mass market paperback and e-book through Random House, and in limited edition through Doubleday Book Club, Rhapsody Book Club, Book of The Month, and the Science Fiction Book Club. Unabridged audio editions are available through Tantor Media, Random House Audio, Amazon, iTunes, etc. Lara’s new releases regularly appear on all of the key bestseller lists including the New York Times, USA Today, Publishers Weekly, Indiebound, Amazon.com, Barnes & Noble, etc. There are more than 2 million copies of the Midnight Breed novels in print in the United States.



The mission was supposed to be simple. Infiltrate an enemy’s stronghold outside Rome and eliminate its leader. For a Breed warrior as lethal as Ettore Selvaggio, AKA “Savage”, stealth assassinations are only one of his many cold-hearted specialties. But the last thing Savage expects to find behind enemy lines—in his target’s bed—is a woman he once adored.
It’s been years since Savage last saw beautiful Arabella Genova. Years he’s strived to banish to his past, along with the fierce desire he once felt toward Bella . . . and the irresistible calling of her blood that stirs in him even now, despite the fact that she belongs to another male.
But when fate throws Savage and Bella together again in a race for their lives, will his long-lost love prove to be the one woman he can’t live without, or the perfect weapon to destroy him?
Midnight Untamed is the newest release in author Lara Adrian’s Midnight Breed series as well as novella number 15 in the 1,001 Dark Nights 2016 lineup. I have loved the midnight Breed series since first finding paranormal romance over ten years ago and I always look forward to a new release. Midnight Untamed is a prime example of all of the things Ms. Adrian does so well. This story was filled with heat, suspense, action, and even a bit of mystery and I devoured it in one sitting.
I love a good long-lost-love-reunited story and the reunion between Savage and Bella was done so beautifully. I loved that I got enough of their backstory to make me want a future for them and have me understanding all of the things that have gone on in their past. The pull between them was intense and meaningful and I loved going along on their journey of initial shock to an overwhelming feeling of rightness and ultimately ending with a sense of contentment no one could deny.
Along the way there was plenty of danger and suspense and we meet a character that I still have not been able to get out of my head. A man I really hope we get to learn more of because I can already tell his story is going to be heartbreaking and emotional as all get out! (I will say that when the 1,001 Dark Nights newsletter drops tomorrow, you’ll get a hint as to who this mystery man is and if we get to see more of him!) I won’t spoil anything for you but I know you will love this novella from start to finish as much as I did!
Whether you’re a die-hard Midnight Breed fan or a new reader, this is a story you’ve got to get on your bookshelf. Thank you, Ms. Adrian, for another amazing visit with some of my favorite vamps!


About the author:
Lara Adrian is the New York Times, USA Todayand #1 internationally bestselling author of the Midnight Breed vampire romance series and seven award-winning, historical romances, previously released under the pen name Tina St. John.
Lara’s Midnight Breed series is available in hardcover, mass market paperback and e-book through Random House, and in limited edition through Doubleday Book Club, Rhapsody Book Club, Book of The Month, and the Science Fiction Book Club. Unabridged audio editions are available through Tantor Media, Random House Audio, Amazon, iTunes, etc. Lara’s new releases regularly appear on all of the key bestseller lists including including the New York Times, USA Today, Publishers Weekly, Indiebound, Amazon.com, Barnes & Noble, etc. There are more than 2 million copies of the Midnight Breed novels in print in the United States.
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