*PreOrder Blitz & Giveaway* The Healing Heart

 

 The Healing Heart is a second-chance, forced-proximity romance where he falls first and hardest, complete with a hilarious girl squad who keep it real, plenty of witty banter, and a protective, "touch-her-and-die" Alpha hero fighting to break his family's curse—one swoon-worthy, heated night at a time.

 

The Healing Heart

Boys of Bragg Book 5

by Randa Knight

Genre: Military Romance

One tragedy changed everything.

Lizzy
One reckless night. One unforgettable taste of him.
The moment I broke my rules and gave in, I knew I was playing with fire. His smoldering cerulean eyes and the way he whispered my name? Irresistible. He didn’t want forever—but I needed more.
Now, he’s back, acting like the boyfriend dreams are made of. Sweet. Attentive. Protective. Maybe even ready to love me the way I crave.
But how do I trust a man who’s made walking away into an art form?
Is a second chance worth the burn?

Josh
I left her. Not because I didn’t want her—but because I wanted her too much.
Marriage. Kids. The white picket fantasy. I told myself I couldn’t be that man… because I’m my father’s son. And he broke my mother in ways I can never forget.
So I let Lizzy go.
But fate had other plans. Now I’m here, ready to fight for her, to protect what’s mine—with teeth, fists, and fury if I have to.
She says she doesn’t trust me.
But I’ll prove it—one kiss, one promise, one heated night at a time.

 

**Releases Sep 14 – PreOrder Now!**

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“Hey, did you have a good run?” Lizzy asks, looking me up and down like I’m a dessert she can’t wait to eat. I love that she can’t hide how much she still wants me. 

Maybe this will be easier than I thought. “It was… therapeutic.” She nods, knowing running is how I clear my head. “I’m going to shower.” Smooth, dumbass. You have better game than this. 

But Lizzy has always made me into a babbling idiot stumbling over my words. My therapist told me it’s because I actually give a shit about Lizzy and care what she thinks. Halfway down the hallway, I stop, remembering I decided to change things with Lizzy, beginning with a date. “Do you have plans tonight?”

She glares at me and snarks, “What, do you have a hot date and want the apartment to yourself?”

I shouldn’t mess with her like this, but she’s asking for it by thinking I would look at, let alone be with, anyone but her. “Weeellll, I’m not sure yet. It depends on her.”

“Such a fucking gentleman. I can stay with Dee. Actually, I probably should’ve moved out by now. I’ll do that while you’re on your hot date.” Anger oozes from her even though she’s trying to hide it, but I know her too well. After slapping her laptop closed, she heads to the guestroom, but I stop her when she’s within arm’s reach. 

Fuck. I’m messing this up already. 

“I didn’t ask if you had plans, so you’d leave. The last thing I want is for you to leave tonight… or any night. I was hoping you would be my hot date.” I brush my palm against her cheek and see her take a deep breath. I haven’t lost her yet. I whisper, “I’m going to shower and get ready for this smokin’ hot blonde who makes my heart race.”

“Makes your heart race? Too bad it’s not enough for you to make a long-term commitment to her.”

Wrapping my arms around her, I breathe in her light scent and say in a gravelly voice, “If I did, she’s the only one I would ever think about making any type of commitment to.”

“If. I can’t live in a world of ifs. I need—” 

I interrupt her with my lips. At first, her lips are stiff, but in mere seconds, she melts into me. Thank God. 

My body relaxes into the kiss. Her lips soften and mold to mine, followed by her arms gripping the bottom of my shirt, showing me she’s trying not to get lost in this kiss—lost in us. She changes the kiss from soft and languid to desperate and demanding as she slips her hand under my shirt, skimming her fingertips along my abs. 

I break the kiss only so I can feast on her beautiful neck. I need to taste her—remind myself of everything about her. Those subtle sighs. Quiet moans. How she melts in my arms. 

I should stop us. Change our old patterns of falling into sex. But damn, I can’t think straight when she touches me. I always cave to her.

After Lizzy pushes my shirt up, I whip it off and she immediately runs her hands up my chest, causing my dick to become a steel rod. My lips continue to attack her neck and suck on that little spot right below her earlobe. Working my way down to her cleavage, pulling her tank top down, she gives me access to her beautiful tits that I need to cherish and ravish. I wrap my mouth around her nipple to suck, kiss, and flick her desire from her. 

“I hate you,” she moans, directing my head back to her mouth.

“I can tell you hate me so damn much.”

“I hate how sexy you look after a five-mile run.”

“Try thirteen miles today since I couldn’t get this gorgeous woman off my mind.” I groan and swirl my tongue around her nipple, causing her to give me a long moan. 

Her fingers dig into my hair, further turning me on. I love it when she marks me with her nails, even when I used to get counseled and lectured for allowing my girl to damage government property. Instead of telling her to stop or at least mark me where my uniform covers, I rewarded her with more orgasms. I pray she does the same tonight. 

Switching to the other side with the same fervor, I wrap her legs around my waist and grind myself to her warmth. I can feel how turned on she is through her tiny athletic shorts. 

“I hate how sweet you are to Cristian.”

“Let’s not talk about our godson right now.” That kid has a knack for killing a boner. He’s been a cockblock a few times when we were babysitting him. My dick is trained for Cristian being a no-fly zone until he goes to sleep. 

“We shouldn’t—” 

I interrupt her with my lips, knowing she’s trying to talk herself out of being with me in any capacity. If we stop, she won’t go to dinner with me either. She’ll shut me out. I can’t do that again. I need this woman with every fiber of my being. 

As I’m about to roll my hip into hers, she pushes my shorts down, releasing my hard cock. Her lust-filled eyes tell me what she wants from me, and no way am I going to deny her anything. I have her shorts off in a matter of seconds. I almost shoot my load when she wraps her hands around my dick, strokes me a few times, and rubs me along her wetness. Fucking teasing me. I smirk, pulling her right nipple into my mouth and doing a combination of flicking and sucking, which I know drives her wild. 

“I hate that you know me so well.”

I thicken my accent, knowing how much it turns her on. “Back at ya, darlin’.” 

She continues rubbing my dick up and down her slit, but when she moves me down, I slip into her completely, causing her nails to dig into my shoulders and down my arms. I didn’t realize her hands moved until I felt them. Yeah, that’s going to leave a mark. 

“I hate—right there, sexy… God, yes—how you fuck me.”

“Obviously,” I say, kissing her neck. I can feel her tightening around me, and I pray I can hold out until she finishes. Jesus, she’s fucking heaven. 

“I hate—”

“I hate how much you’re talking.”

“Then shut me up.” She flashes me a challenging look. 

 

Don’t miss the other Boys of Bragg!

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Randa Knight was born and raised in a small town on the Ohio/Indiana border. Her love of reading began when her grandmother curled up together with a new book every weekend. She studied Literature with a Creative Writing minor at Indiana University (Go Hoosiers!) where she fell in love with writing. The idea for the Boys of Bragg series began during a creative writing course and has evolved over the years.

 

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*Book Tour & Giveaway* Secrets of the Cryptids

 

She never belonged to the pack—until fate led her to him.

Secrets of the Cryptids

Cowboys and Cryptids Book 1

by Sharon Buchbinder

Genre: Paranormal Romance, Romantasy

She never belonged to the pack—until fate led her to him.

Cybersecurity expert Hayil Rufus Rose has spent her life hiding one impossible truth: she’s a werewolf who has never shifted, a failure by her pack’s rules and a woman on the brink of exile. A solo hike in Glacier National Park is meant to clear her head—but instead, a chance meeting with Will Penn, a guarded federal agent with powerful instincts and secrets of his own, changes everything.

As Hayil becomes entangled in a missing persons case involving Will’s brother, she uncovers corruption, cartel money laundering, and violence threatening the Blackfeet Nation. She forms an unexpected bond with a Bigfoot family, who are not monsters, but an ancient people who recognize her latent power. Through trauma, loyalty, and near‑fatal danger, Hayil finally undergoes her full transformation, claiming her identity at last.

Secrets of the Cryptids launches a thrilling paranormal romance series about found family, fierce hearts, and the courage it takes to become who you were always meant to be.

 

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Hayil had the advantage of excellent night vision—super vision compared to other humans. Plus, she possessed an almost uncanny ability to connect with most wild and domestic animals. Hayil mentally grimaced. She could also thank her grandmother for her long overdue ability to shift. What would it take to trigger her body into the lupine version of herself? Was it like a growth spurt that hadn’t hit her body yet? Or was Hayil destined to remain the one person in her pack who wasn’t able to wolf out?

 

Once again, her mother’s constant refrain came back to her: “You’re a late bloomer, like your grandmother. She was older than you when she shifted. All in good time. You’ll see.”

 

Sure, Mom.

 

Hayil knew her mother wanted the best for her, but found her cheerfulness a bit forced. Beneath her mother’s optimism, Hayil sensed an undercurrent of concern about her thirty-year-old daughter’s ability to integrate into the red wolf clan. This missing piece of Hayil’s identity called to her like a siren’s song, demanding she complete herself. Would she ever be a true part of the pack? Or would she forever be the unmated one? What then? She was an anomaly, something the pack didn’t tolerate well. Tradition dictated that if a pack member didn’t shift by the end of their third decade, they were banished.

A chilling thought struck Hayil mid-stride.

 

If I don’t shift this year, will they force me out of the pack?

 

They were the only family she’d ever known. Her mother would fight for her to stay and would probably win. But at what cost?

 

Hayil would be an outcast. She’d never be invited to pack meetings, deliberations or celebrations. Those were reserved for shifters. If she married a non-shifter, the pack would drive her out, of that she was sure. What if her offspring were able to shift? Would that make things better? Would the pack let her stay then? It wasn’t as if she could go to a genetic counselor and ask for a DNA test for werewolves.

 

The thought of losing her extended family through no fault of her own made her gulp back tears. Angry at herself for allowing her thoughts to go down that dark rabbit hole, Hayil reminded herself she was a scientist. Review the facts, not the fears.

 

Fact one: Grandma had been in labor with Hayil’s mother when she’d shifted for the first time.

 

Fact two: The majority of the pack members had shifted when they’d hit puberty.

 

Fact three: Hormones! It had to be related to hormones! The rush of hormones at puberty and the flood of pregnancy hormones had to be related somehow.

 

Hayil was long past puberty and the associated mood swings and acne, thank you very much. She was not ready to be pregnant. For starters, she would need a romantic partner in her life. She’d had zero luck on that score so far.

 

“I still have time. It’s not too late. I won’t give up hope.”

 

Shaking her head to clear her mind, Hayil double-checked her wild animal deterrents. All in place. Then she tugged her knit cap down over her ears and pulled her hands-free headlamp into place. She zipped her fleece jacket against the breeze and adjusted her twenty-five-pound backpack. With an altitude gain of almost nineteen hundred feet, she planned to take her time, pacing herself for the strenuous four-hour hike. She grasped her lightweight hiking poles and took a last look up at the stars. Time to see that spectacular view at the top.

 

As promised by the trail blog, the dirt path was well maintained. The morning air was cold and crisp, layered with the woodsy scent of damp earth and pine needles. An owl hooted, and Hayil spotted movement in the brush between the thick pines beside the trail. Her headlamp reflected in the eyes of small critters, all of whom skittered deeper into the woods.

 

For three hours, all she heard was the crunch of her hiking boots on dirt and gravel, the rasp of her own breaths, the glug of water when she drank and the jingle of her bear bells. She looked at yet another incline on the trail and decided she needed a hiking song for inspiration.

 

“Country roads, take me home,” she sang, belting out “Mountain Mama”—and something crashed through the bushes ahead on the trail. Something large.

 

She froze.

 

An enormous black bear stood on its hind legs at the top of the hill.

 

Shit, shit, shit. If only I could shift, shift, shift!

 

The animal had its back to her, but if it got her scent, it could turn and charge at her in a flash.

 

Heart pounding like a jackhammer, she placed her hand on the bear spray.

 

A breeze sprang up, making her eyes water with its intensity. The good news was that it meant she was downwind of the bear. The bad news was that the air smelled like a wet dog had rolled in a dead animal. The worst news was that the bear turned and looked right at her.

 

Omigod. It’s not a bear. What the heck is it?

Sharon Buchbinder is an award-winning author who has been writing stories since she could hold a pen. The paranormal romance genre is her writing home, a place where the impossible is simply the beginning, where women find their power in the most extraordinary circumstances, and where love is always worth the danger of seeking it.

A Maryland-based author with a background in healthcare and higher education that has informed her vivid, grounded storytelling, Sharon is drawn to heroines who have been underestimated — women who carry something extraordinary inside them and spend the whole book learning to trust it. Sharon believes passionately that readers deserve stories where the heroine doesn’t just survive — she transforms. When she’s not writing, Sharon can usually be found unplugging in her garden, obsessing over cryptid mythology, and convincing her pets they are not, in fact, supernatural.

 

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*Universe Tour & Giveaway* The Fractured Arcana-GUEST POST

 

Two series, one shattered universe: 

an ancient war that forged magic, 

and the modern invasion that it made possible.

Mother of Trees

Thaumatropic Roots Book 1

Part of the Fractured Arcana Universe

by Steven J. Morris

Genre: Epic Fantasy

A dying goddess. A fractured prophecy. A magicless elf who shouldn't exist.

Elliah has spent her entire life being told what she is—bereft, wrong, a mistake the world would prefer to correct. Drifting from town to town with a mother who won't explain why they keep running, she has no magic, no place, and no future. Then a single misstep draws the attention of those who've been looking for her, and everything her mother was hiding comes apart.

She isn't ready for what she learns. But ready was never an option.

Mother of Trees is the thrilling first book in the Thaumatropic Roots epic fantasy series. Enter a world of dangerous magic, ancient powers, and one impossible girl who refuses to stay down.

 

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Elliah ~ 1

My mother told me many times that all adolescents feel like they don't belong, but… I really didn't. So I spent my free time away from other elves, on my own but for the animals… they didn't understand how broken I was. And I was quite pleased with my current find, so I snarled when a noise behind me scared away the drakeling that had settled in my hands. Black with a pattern of red scales along its spine, its body the thickness of my finger, it took flight with a flurry of thin leathery wings and disappeared behind a massive brown trunk.

"The real ones are much more intimidating," said an unfamiliar voice.

Time slowed as I tensed to run, shocked that I'd let my guard down so much that anyone had gotten that close. How many lurked behind me? On the outskirts of town, in the thick of the woods near the river, I had expected solitude.

"Stay, Bereft. I am not afraid," said the voice. His words provoked me.

"No one's afraid of me," I blurted. Bitterness stained my words as surely as the pollen of the bloodcups had stained my ragged clothes.

I turned away from the vanished drakeling to focus on the intruder who'd scared it away. A man. No, I corrected myself, someone my age. Someone not quite old enough for adults to consider one of their own, but too old to call a child.

But not Bereft. No other elf shared that with me.

The newcomer was slightly taller than me with a thin frame, his light hair hanging long, wild, and tangled. He was new to the village—I would have noticed an elf with skin so light. I'd heard whispers of him at school. Kethryllia had called him Salt-kissed, and I'd wondered what that meant, but his light skin answered that question. He'd undoubtedly caught whispers about me, heard of my… condition. Bereft. Yet at that moment, I thought only of the hours of coaxing I'd spent to draw the little drakeling into my grasp, and that the stupid elf had scared it away. I wanted to punch him.

"Maybe they should be," he said, taking a step back, though it would have taken me two leaps to get to him, and he'd have me pinned in one, if he had any skill with magic at all. But I'd prepared a leap already, only not in his direction. As I sprung away, he continued, raising his voice, "And you're right, they're not afraid of you."

I landed with a tree between us. His magic wouldn't be able to snag me there. Unless he was very good at it.

"They're afraid of what you represent."

Continue the Thaumatropic Roots Series

Magic is as natural as breathing in Elliah's world — except to her. Born without a single spark in a war that runs on it, she has nothing but her will and her refusal to accept the limits everyone else has already decided for her. This is what happens when the world writes you out of the story, and you refuse to leave.

 

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Mother of Trees

Bones of Cenaedth

Secrets of Deara

Shepherds of Truth

The Guardian of the Palace

The Guardian League Book 1

Part of the Fractured Arcana Universe

by Steven J. Morris

Genre: Urban Fantasy

Magic isn’t real.
Red Hernandez is very sure of that.

She wants a quiet life after Special Forces—just a steady security job at a half-finished Manhattan skyscraper.

But then a sister tower implodes in a way physics can’t explain.
Witnesses report creatures in the smoke.
And something hunts her in the tunnels beneath.

Red wants answers. What she gets instead is an elf with a sword, a troll with a wry sense of humor, and a dwarf who believes every battle requires an audience. They insist an ancient enemy has crossed into our world—and Red becomes an accidental gatekeeper simply because she’s standing on the fault line when it cracks open.

As a hidden war erupts in the shadows of New York City, Red must decide: run from the past that nearly destroyed her… or fight for a world she’s only just beginning to believe in.

A veteran with nothing left to lose.
A threat born of magic and shadow.
A team she never saw coming.

The Guardian of the Palace launches the action-packed Guardian League series—perfect for fans of urban fantasy, modern-world magic, found family, and heroines who refuse to back down.

 

**Get it FREE!**

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Prologue

Corpses patterned the ground as far as my eye could see, a patchwork quilt of death.

I stood atop a skeletal tower, overlooking the broken ruins of an ancient civilization, so very far from home. I envisioned the beauty that the soaring arches once held, the bridges between the constructs reaching out with broken arms, buildings leaning against one another like ancient lovers in a final embrace. Crumbled remains powdered the bases of former statues, and, everywhere, all of it was littered with the dead.

Like a phoenix, I stood, bathed in fire. An Angel of Death. Not the Angel of Death—he was an ass.

A part of me wanted to go down and see for myself. Maybe just to make sure… to make sure I had done my job… and killed everyone that used to inhabit that world. The magic I was wielding should have destroyed them all—something inside of me could feel that it had—but I wanted to see it.

Yet I knew that was unrealistic. I didn't have the time. There were other worlds that needed my infection, and Earth was on my shortlist.

  

Chapter 1

Red - Day 20, Sunday, the day after the attack

"Ms. Hernandez?" a muffled voice called from a distance, accompanied by a gentle rapping on a door. My consciousness registered the interruption as a nuisance and pulled me back under.

What seemed like seconds later, the rapping came again, more insistent. "Ms. Hernandez."

Ms. Hernandez was my mom… why were they bothering me?

Then a scraping sound, and an alarmed voice. "Ms. Hernandez! Are you okay?"

Some scrambling, some grunts, more scraping… shit, I was going to have to wake up. Why couldn't they just let me sleep?

I tried to answer, but my throat was dry and nothing came out. Coughing, I attempted to sit up, not wholly returned from my trip to dreamland. "I'm here. I'm okay." Was I though? I wasn't sure.

I was in my flat. Not the desert. My door was partway open, and a slightly overweight man had paused in the act of pushing his way in. I recognized him, but his name escaped me. Swinging my legs off my cot, I did a quick modesty check. I was fully dressed, though rather tragically, in some semblance of civilian fatigues—muddied, disheveled, and a little bloody.

The reason came screaming back to me. There had been creatures, unearthly monsters, in The Palace. They'd done things I could not explain by any of the rules I knew. And they'd beaten the hell out of me and then patched me back up in a matter of seconds. I'd blown the head clean off of one of them and fled the scene.

Not my smartest move.

Continue The Guardian League Series!

Earth, through its technological advances, supports nearly eight billion souls; from a cosmic perspective, that makes it ripe for the picking. 'Red' Hernandez, trying to put a questionable military life behind her, finds herself caught in the middle of stopping an apocalyptic invasion of Earth. But to do that, she has to figure out who the good guys are, and how she can combat forces in which she does not believe.

 

Get them:

The Guardian of the Palace

Stars in the Sand

We’re Going On An Elf Hunt

The Song Unsung

Get the Box Set Here

Steven J. Morris writes fantasy where magic runs deep and the consequences run deeper. By day he's an engineer and father of three in Austin, Texas. He's the author of eight novels across two completed series — the epic Thaumatropic Roots and the urban Guardian League — both set in the shared Fractured Arcana universe. Find him at sjmorriswrites.com.

 

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GUEST POST

As a writer, what would you choose as your mascot or spirit animal?

A dragon would be the obvious answer, but probably a crow. They are intelligent, curious, persistent, attracted to interesting objects, and willing to make a considerable amount of noise when they think something matters.

What do you think about the current publishing market?

It is simultaneously exciting and overwhelming. Authors have more ways to publish, distribute, market, and connect directly with readers than ever before. That freedom also means authors are expected to master a bewildering number of skills.

The challenge is remembering that every new platform or promotional strategy is secondary to writing books readers care about. Marketing may help someone discover a story, but the story must make them stay.

Do you prefer to write in silence or with noise?

Usually silence, or something unobtrusive without lyrics. But sometimes I need music that I think the characters would listen to. Thousand Foot Krutch for Red. Lindsey Sterling for Elliah.

Pen, typewriter, or computer?

Computer, without hesitation. My handwriting would be an unnecessarily cruel puzzle for future generations.

What advice would you give new authors?

Finish things. An unfinished first chapter can remain perfect forever because it never has to confront the problems waiting in chapter twenty. A complete imperfect draft can be revised.

Also, learn to separate different kinds of feedback. A reader may correctly identify where they became confused or bored without knowing the right solution. Listen carefully to the problem, but remember that the solution still belongs to you.

Describe your writing style.

I write character-driven fantasy with layered worldbuilding, moral ambiguity, hidden history, and mysteries that gradually alter the reader’s understanding of earlier events. I enjoy action and large-scale conflict, but I want those events to matter because of the people caught inside them.

What are common traps for aspiring writers?

Waiting for confidence is a major one. Confidence often arrives after the work, not before it.

Another is revising the beginning endlessly rather than finishing the draft. The opening may need to change once the author understands the ending, so polishing it repeatedly can become a sophisticated form of avoidance. I still fall into this one quite often.

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*Book Tour & Giveaway* The Half Kasst

 

An ancient bloodline.

A forgotten war.

A woman destined to awaken both. 

The Half Kasst

by Delilah Belvedere

Genre: Paranormal Vampire Romance, Urban Fantasy 

After a charged encounter ignites something ancient in her blood, Sarai Davis becomes entangled in a world of hidden magic where pleasure and danger are inseparable.

A shocking prophecy shatters her reality: Sarai is a Half Kasst, descended from an erased bloodline and born to stand against a secret network of aristocratic vampires.

Now hunted, Sarai must reclaim a legacy meant to be wiped from history, and embrace her power before the forces hunting her finish what they began millennia ago. But power always demands payment.

 

**NEW RELEASE!**

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Kate adds, “She is right, Sarai. You must feed. If Half Kassts are anything like vampires, you don’t want to experience what starvation is like. My father…”

She pauses, looks around the room, then continues.

“My father punishes vampires who don’t follow his rules by locking them up, and he does not provide them any blood. It’s terrible. They wither away for years; their screams get weaker in just weeks, and after a few months, you don’t even hear them anymore.”

Delilah Belvedere is a Kenyan-born, Washington, D.C.–based author and keynote speaker whose stories weave together mythology, sensuality, and power. Her writing blends African-inspired mythology with nontraditional vampires, witches, immersive worldbuilding, and unapologetically sensual storytelling, exploring themes of identity, legacy, and self-discovery through bold, unforgettable characters. Drawn to the spaces where ancestral magic, forbidden desire, and hidden histories collide, Delilah creates worlds where passion is transformative, power is inherited, and destiny is written in blood. Through every story, she champions authenticity, body positivity, curiosity, and the courage to embrace one’s truest self. When she’s not writing, Delilah is exploring new cuisines, hosting backyard BBQs, or binge-watching her next favorite series.

 

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