Wednesday 31 October 2018

Available Now: Goetia by Sam Poling

GOETIA
The Oldenrai Archives, #2
Sam Poling

$4.99

BUY HERE

99c through Sunday, 4 November
After imposing a controversial quarantine, Adelstadt Mayoress Mirabel Fairfax finds herself in the crosshairs with vengeful highwaymen. When they target her family and the vital shipments her village desperately needs, she turns to witchcraft to restore order herself. But something is wrong: her magic becomes unreliable, and monstrous images torment her mind's eye.

When gruesome murders terrorize Adelstadt, she suspects the highwaymen have turned to the occult, allying with a demonic entity. A Goetia. The hallucinations become all-too-real, and Mirabel must rely on her cunning, wrath, and what few friends she has left if she hopes to rescue her valley, her beloved, and her mind.

Felix Fairfax does the best he can as the husband of a controversial mayoress witch, but his life is once again turned into a fight for survival when he’s kidnapped by the highwaymen. They force him to help investigate his wife’s hidden lair, where they become trapped with creatures of unspeakable horror. Whatever Mirabel had locked away hunts indiscriminately—it hunts him—and if it gets out, plagues and highwaymen won’t be Adelstadt’s problems any longer.

• • •

Mirabel’s boots clicked down a stone, spiral stairway, blowing past the half-melted candles lining the steps. The candles provided the only light, at times leaving her to fumble for footing on the disrepair of the steps. The descent into darkness went on longer than she’d ever recalled experiencing before. What a time for metaphysical nonsense. An echo of raspy, hollow screams chased her, reverberating within the stairwell, challenging her to keep up speed.

She stumbled off the final steps, at last on the ground floor, and clawed her wild, deep red hair from her face. Archaic, religious candle racks illuminated the chamber. Nothing had changed down here. At least, not yet.

She sped past rows of dilapidated tables and pews, reached a laboratory-style workbench, and threw her arms against a stack of journals, scattering the research. Upon snaring a specific handful of pages, she sprinted for the tower entrance.

A bony tusk punched through a nearby wall, knocking candles from their altar. They struck silver offering plates on the floor, crashing like cymbals. Mirabel leaped back, one hand clutching her research against her body, the other gripping the handle of her rapier.

Black, viscous slime poured from the hole around the horn, crept over the altar, and dripped onto the floor. Small, misshapen hands sprouted from the goop like blooming black-fingered flowers, grasping at the stone tiles. A reek like sweet, rotting fruit flooded the air.

She closed her gaping mouth, turned away, and continued running down the hall. Her burned-orange cape fluttered and whipped, a nuisance, rescinding its value.

The entire tower quaked, followed by more disembodied shrieking. A spiny, gray tentacle as thick as a branch smashed through the wall ahead in a deafening boom, lashing and twisting like an eel out of water. She drew her rapier and severed the tip with the sharpened, distal edge of her weapon. The piece of otherworldly flesh fell away, but several more tentacles punched through imperfections in the surrounding walls, blocking her path. Each unique arm contorted at varied rates, some more aggressive than others.

Still holding her sword, she extended her arm and channeled magic through it with a rush of heat. Upon releasing her focus, the heat fled her body and flames burst in front of her, engulfing the tentacles and transforming them into crackling ash.

Vertigo crashed over her in waves as penalty for her sudden, great expenditure of soul energy. With inhuman moans drifting on the air, she shook off her fatigue and proceeded to the iron double doors ahead, ramming her shoulder against them. They opened a crack, blasting her face with freezing air from outside.

She pushed against the door, and it ground open, scraping through a layer of fresh snow. She slipped her thin frame through, dropped her research and rapier, and shoved the door closed.

“Mayoress?”

She spun and straightened her posture. “Under no circumstances is anyone to approach the tower.”

Two guardsmen clad in vermillion red, double-breasted uniforms stood at the base of the tower steps, shoulders dusted with snow. They possessed several weapons: muskets with bayonets, sabers, and crossbow pistols. All useless.

“Aye,” said the leading guard. “We thought we heard some rumbling from our post. Another quake?”

She knelt, sheathing her rapier and collecting her papers. And then she saw the ooze. Not much, but strands of it slithered under the door. She backed away and marched down the steps.

“Evacuate.”

“Excuse me, Mayoress?”

She stopped between the guards and faced the shift lead. “Evacuate. It’s a simple concept. Do it now.”

“Evacuate what? Ironsnow?”

“Yes, the entire hamlet. Get everyone to Adelstadt at once.” She looked past him at dozens of wood-framed homes at the base of the tower’s hill, billowing smoke from their chimneys. “No one goes near the tower. Get everyone out now.”

The other guard spoke. “But why? Minor quakes happen all the time. My family lives here.”

The three marched down the hill. Mirabel said nothing.

“Mayoress?”

“Miasma. I’ve discovered the tower is the source of plague-infested miasma. Likely the cause of other outbreaks around Adelstadt. Deadly strains. None can reside here any longer. I’m sorry.”

“Tordin’s mercy,” said the guard. “I’ll have my family pack right away.”

“Nay. Full evacuation. Immediately. Have the citizens take only what they can carry on their way out.”

“It’s that urgent?”

“I am the Mayoress and a syndicate-certified disease specialist. You think I give this order lightly?”

“Of course not, Mayoress Fairfax,” said the lead guard. “We’ll get everyone out within the hour.”

“Faster if you are able. Much faster.”

• • •

Sam Poling has been writing fantasy and science fiction for the thrill of it his entire life, from short stories to screenplays. His love for each of the subgenres led to dedication to writing genre-skirting fiction with all the elements that make up the human condition. He holds a strong enthusiasm for medical studies and currently works as a medical assistant in a large clinic while taking classing for nursing. He also serves on a health and safety committee, including disaster preparedness and infection control. His interest in epidemiology and medical science tends to spill over into his writing endeavors.

Find Sam online:

Website - http://www.samuelpoling.com
Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/Samuel.T.Poling
Twitter - https://twitter.com/SamuelPoling
Tirgearr Publishing - http://www.tirgearrpublishing.com/authors/Poling_Sam






Wednesday 24 October 2018

Available Now: One Knight in Stirling by Kate Robbins

Sir William MacPherson is honoured by the queen mother's invitation to protect her from her enemies. The only catch: he must reside at Stirling Castle where he will encounter Coira MacLaren; the one woman who can bring him to his knees and keep him there. Her refusal of his marriage proposal a year ago hit him hard and he has not seen her since. Can he harden himself against her, or will their insatiable lust for one another burn them to cinders this time?

• • •

Stirling, September, 1438

William MacPherson galloped hard toward Stirling Castle with the missive he’d received still crumpled in his hand. Christ. After all this time, why did it have to come now? A year ago, even two, he would have been thrilled with the news, but now the offer filled him with trepidation. Still, as a knight and member of the king’s guard, he could hardly refuse his queen.

Riding across the flat expanse with the blooming, heather-splashed mountains on his right, his heartbeat picked up once Stirling Castle came into view. Jutting up from the flat land all around it, the craggy rock on which the castle was built commanded attention and obedience. Those who had erected it long ago gave strategic thought to it as a vantage point. Soon, William would employ that same strategy without and within its stone walls.

He’d worked hard to earn his place among the guard and this opportunity was to be his reward. And rightly so. He’d been loyal to the Stewarts all through the Highland upheavals and constant challenges among the various chiefs. Long ago, he’d sought the counsel of James MacIntosh, Earl of Moray, and his advice had been sound. Stand with the Stewarts and you will be rewarded.

But then the king was assassinated. The Highland nobles had had enough. King James Stewart, first of his name, was betrayed. He hid in the sewers, leaving his queen and her ladies to fend for themselves, and was then stabbed to death once found. The queen barely escaped with her life, but that did not curb her thirst for revenge. It was a nasty business. For a time, William wondered what would become of the dynasty the Stewarts had fought hard to forge. But prevail they had. The eight-year-old King James, second of his name, now resided at Stirling Castle with the queen mother and his other siblings, and stewardship of the country had fallen to the Earl of Douglas until the king came of age.

But neither the view nor the prospect of becoming personal guard to the widowed queen was the cause of William’s apprehension.

Coira MacLaren.

Images of her heavy breasts and full hips flooded his mind, making him squirm in his saddle. Try as he might, he could not get that woman out of his head. By his estimation, he shouldn’t have to. She was his and no one, not even she, could deny it. But she had refused his proposal of marriage. That was a year ago, and she’d not left his thoughts either day or night since. From her silky black hair and crystal-blue eyes to her dainty feet, William had explored every inch of her body and knew every curve. God, how he ached to drive his cock into her one more time.

But he would resist. He’d wanted to spend the rest of his life with her and could not stand by knowing she would not have him. A wonderful lover, she’d called him. And then she tore his heart to shreds by refusing him.

Damned woman.

As one of the queen mother’s personal maids, she would be present and he would no doubt see her, though hopefully not often. He’d steel his heart against her—if only he could restrain his lust.

William rode into the courtyard and dismounted. He tossed the horse’s reins at a stable hand then made his way to the great hall. A page met him in the doorway. He took the missive and went straight to the stairs away from the hall, straight toward the queen mother’s lodgings.

William entered the long hall to await her grace. Once inside, he poured himself a goblet of ale from a sideboard and stood by the window, gazing out over the courtyard. Dozens of ladies had gathered to watch some noblemen spar with wooden swords; their manner was much like a dance. William was certain they’d topple over if they ever held a real broadsword. How dainty they were in their hose and doublets.

He smirked. Mayhap a spar could help him temper his ache for Coira. After his meeting, he’d seek out his brother, Thomas, and work off some of his frustration.

“You came straight away.”

• • •

Kate Robbins writes historical romance novels out of pure escapism and a love for all things Scottish, not to mention a life-long enjoyment of reading romance.

Kate loves the research process and delving into secondary sources in order to blend authentic historical fact into her stories. She has travelled to Scotland twice and visited the sites described in her Highland Chiefs series.

Her debut award winning novel, Bound to the Highlander, is the first of three books set in the early fifteenth century during the reign of James Stewart, first of his name.

Kate is the pen name of Debbie Robbins who lives in St. John's, Newfoundland, Canada.

See Debbie here on Canada's Back Stage Pass TV program, aired 4 March 2014.

Find Kate Online:

Website - http://katerobbinsauthor.com
Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/intothehighlandmist
Twitter - https://twitter.com/KateRobWriter
Goodreads - http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/9566304-kate-robbins
Amazon - http://www.amazon.com/Kate-Robbins/e/B00FRHRUPE
Tirgearr Publishing - http://www.tirgearrpublishing.com/authors/Robbins_Kate




Wednesday 17 October 2018

Available Now in Audio: Promised to the Highlander by Kate Robbins

Nessia Stephenson's world was safe until a threat from a neighbouring clan forces her to accept a betrothal to a man whose family can offer her the protection she needs. The real threat lies in her intense attraction to the man who arranged the match—the clan's chief and her intended’s brother, Fergus MacKay.

When powerful warlord Fergus MacKay arranges a marriage for his younger brother, William, he has no idea the price will be his own heart. Fergus is captivated by the wildly beautiful Nessia, a woman he can never have.

When the feud between the MacKay and Sutherland clans escalates, Nessia, William, and Fergus all must make sacrifices for their future. Longing and loss, honour and duty. How can love triumph under such desperate circumstances?

• • •

“For a man who isn’t eager to meet his future wife, you’ve got quite a set of nerves there lad,” Fergus said to William.

William straightened his linen shirt and smoothed his tunic as he glared at Fergus. Yet, the comment was absorbed and William ceased his pacing to sit on a chair near the fire. Fergus watched his brother adjust his belt again. The young man wore his usual dress but had taken greater pains today to perfect his appearance. Fergus glanced down at his linen shirt and sleeveless leather tunic. William’s long hair was tied at his nape while Fergus’s was left hanging loose. He recalled having to take extra pains upon his betrothal. Thankfully those days had passed and he needn’t worry overly anymore. A young lass would surely find William’s neat, respectable appearance appealing. He hoped so, but before he could dwell on it further, a servant entered and announced the arrival of Thomas Stephenson, his daughter Nessia and several of their clansmen.

William sprang to his feet and crossed the floor in a few quick strides to greet them. He continued to fidget as Fergus sauntered up from behind.

“Thomas! Welcome. We thought we’d have to send out a search party soon,” Fergus said as the stout man turned the corner leading into the great hall.

“Aye, the road was a bit rough with a wagon in tow,” Thomas said. The man’s brow was streaked with sweat and he looked weary from his travels.

“We’ve had a lot of rains this harvest there’s no doubting that,” Fergus said.

In truth he would have gone searching himself had another hour passed. Earlier that day he’d heard more rumours about Ronan Sutherland. Apparently, the lad had agreed to his father’s suggestion and would commence his campaign in the coming days. Fergus sensed William stiffen beside him as Thomas began the introductions.

“Fergus, William, this is my brother Neville and these three are my sons, Colin, Robert, and Camden my youngest. And this is my daughter, Nessia.”

Fergus acknowledged each man in turn. When the introduction came to the girl and his gaze fell on her, his breath caught in his throat. With black hair and bright blue eyes she stood proud before him with her chin lifted and all the regal confidence of a noblewoman. She displayed no fear or reservation at all, something which was unusual in most men he met, but more so in a woman. The gentler sex usually cowered before him—not this lass.

Fergus stared at the girl, his heart drumming. His guts clenched as if he’d been punched. He had to force himself from moving toward her to touch her hair which looked like spun silk, for surely it could not be real. Fergus remembered his brother then and tore his gaze from her to find William’s eyes wide and his jaw slacked. An unexpected pang ran through him.

When he turned back it was to find her still staring at him, seemingly unabashed for staring openly at a man. A bold one, then. Fergus’s drew his brows together. What did she want?

• • •

Kate Robbins writes historical romance novels out of pure escapism and a love for all things Scottish, not to mention a life-long enjoyment of reading romance.

Kate loves the research process and delving into secondary sources in order to blend authentic historical fact into her stories. She has travelled to Scotland twice and visited the sites described in her Highland Chiefs series.

Her debut award winning novel, Bound to the Highlander, is the first of three books set in the early fifteenth century during the reign of James Stewart, first of his name.

Kate is the pen name of Debbie Robbins who lives in St. John's, Newfoundland, Canada.

See Debbie here on Canada's Back Stage Pass TV program, aired 4 March 2014.

Find Kate Online:

Website - http://katerobbinsauthor.com
Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/intothehighlandmist
Twitter - https://twitter.com/KateRobWriter
Goodreads - http://www.goodreads.com/user/show/9566304-kate-robbins
Amazon - http://www.amazon.com/Kate-Robbins/e/B00FRHRUPE
Tirgearr Publishing - http://www.tirgearrpublishing.com/authors/Robbins_Kate