Spooky's Maze Of Books: July 2022

Like always I want to say a huge thank you to the publisher Harlequin Trade Publishing, Hanover Square Press, the author Madeline Martin ,and to Netgalley for the invite to join this blog tour as well as letting me read and review it Brings to life the story of how the librarians played a part in WW 2 as spies , as well as the lives of what the women of the resistance did to help their men folk against the German's.As well as the lives of the refugees or those attempting to aid them, and even brings to the front the horrors of what happened to Resistance members in France, and the ones that was sent to the prison camps .

Description

“Readers will be on the edge of their seats…. A brilliant tale of resistance, courage and ultimately hope.” –Kelly Rimmer, New York Times bestselling author of The Warsaw Orphan

From the New York Times bestselling author of The Last Bookshop in London comes a moving new novel inspired by the true history of America’s library spies of World War II.

Ava thought her job as a librarian at the Library of Congress would mean a quiet, routine existence. But an unexpected offer from the US military has brought her to Lisbon with a new mission: posing as a librarian while working undercover as a spy gathering intelligence.

Meanwhile, in occupied France, Elaine has begun an apprenticeship at a printing press run by members of the Resistance. It’s a job usually reserved for men, but in the war, those rules have been forgotten. Yet she knows that the Nazis are searching for the press and its printer in order to silence them.

As the battle in Europe rages, Ava and Elaine find themselves connecting through coded messages and discovering hope in the face of war.

“Uplifting, inspiring and suspenseful, this is one to savor!” –Natasha Lester, New York Times bestselling author of The Riviera House

“Madeline Martin is a fantastic author. The Librarian Spy is a stunning tour de force of historical fiction.” –Karen Robards, author of The Black Swan of Paris

For more historical fiction from Madeline Martin, don't miss The Last Bookshop in London.

Social Links:

Author Website

Twitter: @MadelineMMartin

Facebook: @MadelineMartinAuthor
Instagram: @madelinemmartin

Goodreads

Madeline Martin is a New York Times and international bestselling author of historical fiction

novels and historical romance. She lives in sunny Florida with her two daughters, two incredibly

spoiled cats and a husband so wonderful he been dubbed Mr. Awesome. She is a die-hard

history lover who will happily lose herself in research any day. When she;s not writing,

researching or moming;, you can find her spending time with her family at Disney or sneaking a

couple spoonfuls of Nutella while laughing over cat videos. She also loves travel, attributing her

fascination with history to having spent most of her childhood as an Army brat in Germany.

Friday, July 29, 2022

The Mother In Law

Welcome to my blog tour stop for Mother in Law which is hosted by Bookouture

Author: Karen King Book: The Mother-in-Law Publication Day: July 29th 2022 Buy link(s) https://geni.us/B09ZF1HGJHsocial

Rating: 5

Would I recommend it ? Yes

Would I read more by this author ? Yes

like always I want to say a huge thank you to the publisher Bookouture , the author Karen King , as well as to NetGalley for letting me read and review it. Psychological suspense novel that will make you never want to meet your future in laws. Plus this is a book that will make you second guess everyone , and will make you feel like everyone is out to get you right from the start as well make you wounder if what is happening really happening or if its all in Dana's mind. There was a few things I didn't like but just a few and they was how it kind of felt like Sam would make excuses for his mother .But I do have to say that the author has a way with her stories and even though this is only the second one by her that I've read , I do love how she writes a twisted character .

Description:

Today is my wedding day. And I don’t know if I’ll make it out alive…

As I put my beautiful white wedding dress on, I try not to ignore my fears. I look in the mirror and feel more beautiful than I ever have before. I know marrying Sam is the right choice. He’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.

I reach for my bright yellow roses, and I force myself to be as cheerful and sunny as those flowers. I won’t dwell on everything that’s happened recently – ever since we agreed to stay with his parents for the weeks ahead of the wedding.

Glancing down at my sparkling engagement ring, I pretend to myself I can forget about the ‘accidents’ I keep having, that I can’t believe are coincidental. Or about his mother’s barbed comments, and the dark looks she gives me.

And, just for today, while I walk down the aisle towards the man of my dreams, while I say ‘I do’, I’ll try to put the secret I know about the family I am marrying into right out of my mind.

Even though that’s one secret that – if I was my soon-to-be mother-in-law – I might just kill to keep…

Author Bio:

Karen King is a multi-published author of both adult and children’s books. Currently published by Bookouture and Headline, Karen writes about the light and dark of relationships. Her eleventh romantic novel, The Spanish Wedding Disaster, has recently been published and her third psychological thriller The Mother In Law is out in July, with a fourth one in February 2023.

Karen has also had 120 children’s books, two young adult novels, and several short stories for women’s magazines published. Her thrillers The Perfect Stepmother and The Stranger in my Bed and her romantic novel The Cornish Hotel by the Sea became International Amazon bestsellers.

Karen is a member of the Romantic Novelists’ Association, the Society of Authors, the Crime Writers’ Association and the Society of Women Writers and Journalists. She now lives in Spain where she loves to spend her non-writing time exploring the quaint local towns with her husband, Dave, when she isn’t sunbathing or swimming in the pool, that is.

Author Social Media LinksWebsite: http://www.karenking.net/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/KarenKingAuthorTwitter: https://twitter.com/karen_king

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/karenkingthrillers/

Bookouture Email Sign Up: https://www.bookouture.com/karen-king

Wednesday, July 27, 2022

The Secret Keeper by Siobhan Curham

Welcome to my blog tour stop for The Secret Keeper by Siobhan Curham which is been hosted by Bookouture

Buy Link:

Amazon: https://geni.us/B0B12NDDTDsocial

The Secret Keeper

Siobhan Curham

Rating: 4

Would I recommend ? Yes

Would I read more by this author? Yes

like always I want to say a huge thank you to the publisher Bookouture , the author Siobhan Curham, as well as to Netgalley for letting me read and review .This one had me setting on the edge of my set the enter time I was reading it because of the amazing job the author did with not only the characters but also the time period of the story , it brought to life the worries as well as the fear that the female secret agents had , plus it based on a true story of them as well. Though out the book I kept hoping that everything would turn out ok for the main character . And lets not talk about how my heart also broke more then once . It was uplifting, emotional , pulls at your heart strings , and comes to life with each turn of the page. There was times I just waited to stop reading but I couldn't because I was hooked and invested in the story too the point that I even stayed up late reading in bed to see what happened next, it also showed. Other thing I loved was that it brought to left just how imported the they where doing that time .And made me want to knew more about them .

Book Description:

Nazi-occupied Paris, 1942. “I want to create a world where we are free to be together, to be in love,” he whispered. I gulp down the sobs building in my throat. “I want that too. I’ll come back to you. I swear I’ll come back.”Elena Garcia knows that the mission she has been tasked with is her most dangerous yet. With a tearful goodbye to the man she has grown to love, the dark-eyed and warm-hearted Santiago Lozano, she hurries to catch the train to the drop-off point, the coded maps she is delivering for the resistance concealed in a pack of playing cards in her purse.As she leaves the underground meeting, she hears heavy footsteps closing in behind her. Her heart pounds, and a dark figure comes into her line of sight. Expertly fighting off her attacker, Elena races back to the station, barely making it onto the train. She is forced to confront the worst: her cover is blown and now nowhere will be safe. Somebody close to her is a traitor, but when you live in the shadows, how do you know who you can really trust?To stay alive, Elena must flee the country – and that means leaving Santiago behind. But she refuses to abandon her mission while Europe is still in the clutches of the enemy, and she will not leave Santiago to face the wrath of the Gestapo alone.But when Elena uncovers that the love of her life has been having meetings with high-ranking government officials and hears German officials greeting him by name in the street, it’s clear that Santiago has his own secrets.Elena must now ask herself: should she risk everything to save Santiago… or was he the one who betrayed her to the enemy? And now, with millions of innocent lives across Europe at stake, how can she know what is the right choice?An epic, gripping and emotional wartime novel based on the true stories of the female spies sent into occupied Europe. Fans of The Alice Network, Soraya M. Lane and Pam Jenoff will be totally hooked.

Author Bio:

Siobhan Curham is an award-winning author, ghost writer, editor and writing coach. She has also written for many newspapers, magazines and websites, including The Guardian, Breathe magazine, Cosmopolitan, Writers’ Forum, DatingAdvice.com, and Spirit & Destiny. Siobhan has been a guest on various radio and TV shows, including Woman’s Hour, BBC News, GMTV and BBC Breakfast. And she has spoken at businesses, schools, universities and literary festivals around the world, including the BBC, Hay Festival, Cheltenham Festival, Bath Festival, Ilkley Festival, London Book Fair and Sharjah Reading Festival.

https://www.facebook.com/Siobhan-Curham-Author-398343120181969

https://www.instagram.com/SiobhanCurham/

https://twitter.com/SiobhanCurham

Tuesday, July 26, 2022

THE LOST AND FOUND GIRL

Welcome to my show case for THE LOST AND FOUND GIRL which is been hosted b yPark Row Books, Hanover Square Press, MIRA Books, Graydon House, Inkyard Press ,HarperCollinsPublishers | Harlequin

THE LOST AND FOUND GIRL

Author: Maisey Yates

ISBN: 9781335503206

Publication Date: July 26, 2022

Publisher: HQN Books

Buy Links:

one

Ruby

Only two truly remarkable things had ever happened in the small town of Pear Blossom, Oregon. The

first occurred in 1999, when Caitlin Groves disappeared one fall evening on her way home from her

boyfriend’s family orchard.

The second was in 2000, when newborn Ruby McKee was discovered on Sentinel Bridge, the day before

Christmas Eve.

It wasn’t as if Pear Blossom hadn’t had excitement before then. There was the introduction of pear

orchards—an event which ultimately determined the town’s name—in the late 1800s. Outlaws who lay

in wait to rob the mail coaches, and wolves and mountain lions who made meals of the farmers’

animals. The introduction of the railroad, electricity and a particularly active society of suffragettes,

when women were lobbying for the right to vote.

But all of that blended into the broader context of history, not entirely dissimilar to the goings-on of

every town in every part of the world, as men fought to tame a wild land and the land rose up and

fought back.

Caitlin’s disappearance and Ruby’s appearance felt both specific and personal, and had scarred and

healed—if Ruby took the proclamations of various citizens too literally, which she really tried not to

do—the community.

Mostly, as Ruby got out of the car she’d hired at the airport and stood in front of Sentinel Bridge with a

suitcase in one hand, she marveled at how idyllic and the same it all seemed.

The bridge itself was battered from the years. The wood dark and marred, but sturdy as ever. A white

circle with a white 1917, denoting the year of its construction, was stenciled in the top center of the

bridge, just above the tunnel that led to the other side, a pinhole of light visible in the darkness across

the way.

It was only open to foot traffic now, with a road curving wide around it and carrying cars to the other

side a different way. For years, Sentinel Bridge was closed, and it wasn’t until a community outreach and

education effort in the mid nineties that it was reopened for people to walk on.

Ruby could have had the driver take her a different route.

But she wanted to cross the bridge.

“Are you sure you want me to leave you here?” her driver asked.

She’d told him when she’d gotten into his car that she was from here originally, and he’d still spent the

drive explaining local landmarks to her, so she wasn’t all that surprised he didn’t trust her directive to

leave her in the middle of nowhere.

He was the kind of man who just knew best.

They’d just driven through the town proper. All brick—red and white and yellow—the sidewalks lined

with trees whose leaves matched as early fall took hold. It was early, and the town had still been sleepy,

most of the shops closed. There had been a runner or two out, an older man—Tom Swenson—walking

his dog. But otherwise it had been empty. Still, it bore more marks of civilization than where they stood

now.

The bridge was nearly engulfed in trees, some of which were evergreen, others beginning to show

rusted hints of autumn around the edges. A golden shaft of light cut over the treetops, bathing the front

of the bridge in a warm glow, illuminating the long wooden walk—where the road ended—that led to

the covered portion, but shrouding the entrance in darkness.

She could see what the man in the car saw. Something abandoned and eerie and disquieting.

But Ruby only saw the road home.

“It’s fine,” she said.

She did not explain that her parents’ farm was just up the road, and she walked this way all the time.

That it was only a quarter of a mile from where she’d been found as a baby.

She had to cross the bridge nearly every day when she was in town, so she didn’t always think of it. But

some days, days like this after she’d been away awhile, she had a strange, hushed feeling in her heart,

like she was about to pay homage at a grave.

“If you’re sure.” His tone clearly said she shouldn’t be, but he still took her easy wave as his invitation to

go.

Ruby turned away from the retreating car and smiled, wrapping both hands around the handle of her

battered brown suitcase. It wasn’t weathered from her own use. She’d picked it up at a charity shop in

York, England, because she’d thought it had a good aesthetic and it was just small enough to be a carry-

on, but wasn’t like one of those black wheeled things that everyone else had.

She’d cursed while she’d lugged it through Heathrow and Newark and Denver, then finally Medford.

Those wheely bags that were not unique at all had seemed more attractive each time her shoulders and

arms throbbed from carrying the very lovely suitcase.

Ruby’s love of history was oftentimes not practical.

But it didn’t matter now. The ache in her arms had faded and she was nearly home.

Her parents would have come to pick her up from the airport but Ruby had swapped her flight in Denver

to an earlier one so she didn’t have to hang around for half the day. It had just meant getting up and

rushing out of the airport adjacent hotel she’d stayed in for only a couple of hours. Her Newark flight

had gotten in at eleven thirty the night before and by the time she’d collected her bags, gotten to the

hotel and stumbled into bed, it had been nearly one in the morning.

Then she’d been up again at three for the five o’clock flight into Medford, which had set her back on the

ground around the time she’d taken off. Which had made her feel gritty and exhausted and wholly

uncertain of the time. She’d passed through so many time zones nothing felt real.

She waved the driver off and took the first step forward. She paused at the entry to the bridge. She

looked back over her shoulder at the bright sunshine around her and then took a step forward into the

darkness. Light came up through the cracks between the wood on the ground and the walls. At the

center of the bridge, there were two windows with no glass that looked out over the river below. It was

by those windows that she’d been found.

She walked briskly through the bridge and then stopped. In spite of herself. She often walked on this

bridge and never felt a thing. She rarely felt inclined to ponder the night that she was found. If she got

ridiculous about that too often, then she would never get anything done. After all, she had to cross this

bridge to get home.

But she was moving back to town, not just returning for a visit, and it felt right to mark the occasion with

a stop at the place of her salvation. She paused for a moment, right at the spot between the two

openings that looked out on the water.

She had been placed just there. Down on the ground. Wrapped in a blanket, but still so desperately tiny

and alone.

She had always thought about the moment when her sisters had picked her up and brought her back to

their parents. It was the moment that came before that she had a hard time with. The one where

someone—it had to have been her birth mother—had set her down there, leaving her to fate. To die if

she died, or live if she was found. And thankfully she’d been found, but there had been no way for the

person who had set her there to know that would happen.

It had gotten below freezing that night.

If Marianne, Lydia and Dahlia hadn’t come walking through from the Christmas play rehearsal, then…

She didn’t cry. But a strange sort of hollowness spread out in her chest.

But she ignored it and decided to press on toward home. She walked through the darkness of the

bridge, watching as the light, the exit loomed larger.

And once she was outside, she could breathe. Because it didn’t matter what had happened there. What

mattered was every step she had taken thereafter. What mattered was this road back home.

She walked up the gravel-covered road, kicking rocks out of her way as she went. It was delightfully cold,

the crisp morning a reminder of exactly why she loved Pear Blossom. It was completely silent out here

except for the odd braying of a donkey and chirping birds. She looked down at the view below, at the

way the mist hung over the pear trees in the orchard. The way it created a ring around the mountain,

the proud peak standing out above it. A blanket of green and gold, rimmed with misty rose.

She breathed in deep and kept on walking, relishing the silence, relishing the sense of home.

She had spent the last four years studying history. Mostly abroad. She had engaged in every exchange

program she could, because what was the point of studying history if you limited yourself to a country

that was as young as the United States and to a coast as new as the West Coast.

She could remember the awe that she’d experienced walking on streets that were more than just a

couple of hundred years old. The immense breadth of time that she had felt. And she had… Well, she

had hoped that she would find answers somewhere. Because she had always believed that the answers

to what ails you in the present could be found somewhere in the past.

And she’d explored the past. Thoroughly. Many different facets of it. And along the way, she done a bit

of exploring of herself.

After all, that was half the reason she’d left. To try and figure out who she was outside of this place

where everyone knew her, and her story.

Though, when she got close to people, it didn’t take long for them to discover her story. It was, after all,

in the news.

Of course, she always found it interesting who discovered it on their own. Because that was revealing.

Who googled their friends.

Ruby obviously googled her friends, but that was because of her own background and experience. If

those same friends had an equally salacious background, then it was forgivable.

But if they were boring, then she found it deeply suspicious that they engaged in such activities.

She came over a slight rise in the road and before her was the McKee family farm. It had been in the

McKee family for generations. And Ruby felt a profound sense of connection to it. It might not be her

legacy by blood, but that had never mattered to the McKees, and it didn’t matter to her either. This

town was part of who she was.

And maybe that was why no matter how she had searched elsewhere, she was drawn back here.

Dana Groves, her old mentor, had called her six months ago to tell her an archivist position was being

created in the historical society with some newly allocated funds, and had offered the job to Ruby.

Ruby loved Pear Blossom, but she’d also felt like it was really important for her to go out in the world

and see what else existed.

It was easy for her to be in Pear Blossom. People here loved her.

It had been a fascinating experience to go to a place where that wasn’t automatically the case. Of

course, she hadn’t stayed in one place very long. After going to the University of Washington, she had

gotten involved in different study abroad programs, and she had moved between them as often as she

could. Studying in Italy, France, Spain, coming to the States briefly for her graduation ceremony in May,

and then going back overseas to spend a few months in England, finishing up some elective study

programs.

But then, she’d found that instructive too. Being in a constant state of meeting new people. And for a

while, the sheer differentness of it all had fed her in a way that had quieted that restlessness. She had

been learning. Learning and experiencing and… Well, part of her had wondered if her first job needed to

be away from home. To continue her education.

But then six months ago her sister’s husband had died.

Book Summary:

The small Oregon town of Pear Blossom welcomes the return of its prodigal daughter Ruby

McKee. Found abandoned as a baby by the McKee family, Ruby is the unofficial town mascot, but

when she and her adoptive sisters start investigating the true circumstances around her

discovery, it soon becomes clear that this small town is hiding the biggest, and darkest, of

secrets. A raw, powerful exploration of the lengths people go to protect their loved ones, for fans

of Lori Wilde and Carolyn Brown.

Ruby McKee is a miracle.

It’s a miracle she survived, abandoned as a newborn baby. A miracle that she was found by the McKee

sisters. Her discovery allowed the community of Pear Blossom, Oregon, broken by a devastating crime, to

heal. Since then, Ruby has lived a charmed life. But she can’t let go of the need to know why she was

abandoned, and she’s tired of not having answers.

Dahlia McKee knows it’s not right to resent Ruby for being special. But uncovering the truth about sister

Ruby’s origins could allow Dahlia to carve her own place in Pear Blossom history... if she’s brave enough

to follow her heart.

Widowed sister Lydia McKee doesn’t have time for Ruby’s what if’s – when Lydia’s right now is so, so

hard. Her husband’s best friend Chase might be offering to share some of the load, but can Lydia ever

trust her instincts around him?

Marianne Martin is glad that her youngest sister is back in town, but balancing Ruby’s crusade with the

way her own life is imploding is turning into a bigger chore than she imagined. Especially when Ruby

starts overturning secrets about the past that Marianne has spent a lifetime trying to pretend don’t exist.

And when the truth about Ruby’s miraculous origins, and the crime from long ago, turn out to be

connected in ways no one could have expected, will the McKee sisters band together, or fall apart?

Social Links:

Author Website: http://www.maiseyyates.com/

Facebook: Maisey Yates

Twitter: @maiseyyates

Instagram: @MaiseyYates

Author Bio:

Maisey Yates is a New York Times bestselling author of over one hundred romance novels. Whether

she's writing strong, hard working cowboys, dissolute princes or multigenerational family stories, she

loves getting lost in fictional worlds. An avid knitter with a dangerous yarn addiction and an aversion to

housework, Maisey lives with her husband and three kids in rural Oregon. Check out her website,

maiseyyates.com or find her on Facebook.

Monday, July 25, 2022

Lair , Lair

Welcome to my blog tour stop for Lair,Lair which is been hosted by Bookouture

BUY LINK:

Amazon: https://geni.us/B09ZZMHV51social

Lair , Lair

Author: L. G. Davis

rating : 4

Would I recommend it? Yes

Would I read more by this author? Yes

First off like always I want to say a huge thank you to the publisher Bookouture , the author L.G.Davis, as well as toNetGalley for letting me read and review it .A new to me author that was not a let down, fast pace and the multiple timelines helped set the tone of the story as well as helped with making the characters who they are, even though there was one character I couldn't stand at all. And the vibes at the begging of the story give it that been watched from the shadows feeling I love when its done right as well helped set up the feeling that maybe you shouldn't trust any of the characters or what your reading .

He promised to keep my secrets. He never told me his…My husband and I are the dream couple: deeply in love, the envy of all our friends. He surprises me with roses and a beautiful diamond ring, and I prepare picnics for us to enjoy in the sunshine with our adorable son. It’s gestures like this that keep our romance alive.But nobody knows how frightened I am at night. Oliver promised he’d keep me safe, but strange things have started to happen in my home.My son is convinced that someone was in his room, watching him while he slept. And the white lantern on our porch has been smashed. One evening I could swear there’s a shadowy figure watching me through the window, lurking across the street. As I triple check that the doors are locked and kiss my son goodnight, I’m terrified that someone knows what happened before we moved here, and that soon everything I love will be taken away…Then Oliver comes home with blood on his hands on the same night our neighbour, one of my closest friends, goes missing. And I realise I am not the only one hiding a terrible secret.We are both lying. But when the truth finally comes to light, who will survive? And can I keep my son safe?

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Liz's story began in a refugee camp in Angola, where she spent the first eight years of her life. After that, she spent some years in Namibia (her home country), South Africa, and Germany. She now lives in Vienna, Austria, with her husband and two children. Liz wrote her first full-length novel at eighteen and hid it in a box under her bed. Several others soon followed it. Her passion lies in writing edge-of-the-seat psychological thrillers that give readers the same rush they would get on a rollercoaster.

AUTHOR SOCIAL MEDIA

Twitter: @LGDavisAuthor

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/LGDavisBooks

Instagram: @lgdavisauthor

TikTok: @lgdavisbooks

Website: author-lgdavis.com

Author email sign up: https://www.bookouture.com/l-g-davis/

Sunday, July 24, 2022

RUTHLESS

Welcome to my show case for Ruthless which is been hosted by HarperCollins Graydon House | Hanover Square Press | HQN | MIRA | Park Row Books

RUTHLESS

Author: Gena Showalter

ISBN: 9781335474964

Publication Date: August 9, 2022

Publisher: HQN Books

Buy Links:

CHAPTER ONE

Not quite present day

Fifteen-year-old Micah spun slowly, his jaw slack. What is this place?

Spears of lightning forked across a dark sky heavy with darker clouds.

Glowing silvery orbs hung from tree branches, illuminating a forest clearing

he wished he hadn’t discovered. The eeriness of it all boggled the mind.

From the outside, thick white fog had enveloped the interlocking trees set in a wide

circle. From the inside, however, he had an unobstructed view of the dried blood that

stained the bark—and the faces carved within. Fierce expressions projected everything

from dread to malice, and he shuddered.

Someone had gone to great trouble to make the gnarled giants resemble belua.

Monsters of unimaginable strength, somehow birthed from the elements themselves.

Able to live and breathe and walk among fae.

Micah tightened his grip on a makeshift dagger—a twig he’d sharpened with his

teeth and what remained of his nails.

Beady eyes seemed to track his every movement as he trod deeper into the clearing.

A large, moss-covered stone with a wide base and a flat top occupied the center of the ring.

An altar?

A chilled breeze blustered past, rousing goose bumps on his skin. Scanning…

The vibrant moss provided the only foliage here. There were no animals or

insects. No other life whatsoever.

Death reigned here.

A crack of thunder boomed, punctuating his thought, and he almost

jumped out of his skin. The next lightning bolt charged the atmosphere; electric

currents pricked his spine. Micah dragged in the scent of ash and… What was that?

Sweetness itself?

A unique fragrance brimming with all the glories of the Summer Court. Sunshine,

flowers and citrus.

His mouth watered, and his empty stomach protested. When had he last eaten?

Twig at the ready, he approached the stone and gathered a fistful of moss.

The first bite proved bitter, the second more so. But as the greenery

settled in his stomach, some of his pains faded; he only desired more.

He shoveled another fistful into his mouth, then another and another, unable to slow himself.

For over a year, he’d wandered the wastelands of Astaria alone. Originally,

he’d traveled with his guardian. A great warrior named Erwen. A great man, period.

He’d found baby

Micah inside

a basket, and saved him from being eaten by trolls.

He bit his tongue, tasting blood. Erwen had died in battle with a belua. A massive snow

beast in the Winterlands.

Micah had expected to perish alongside his guardian. A part of him had hoped to die.

How he’d loved Erwen, his sole companion—the only person willing to be near him.

Like his guardian, Micah was a chimera. A rare fae born with dual glamaras t

hat were constantly at odds. The clash created a negative force field around them.

Unwanted by fae and humans alike. Feared by everyone. Known for scarring—

outward evidence of

weakness and a badge of shame.

Chilly wind rattled branches. Lightning peppered the sky, spotlighting—

Micah froze, his breath hitched. Were their limbs untangling? Had the one to

his left narrowed its eyes?

An illusion?

Genuine belua? Had he stumbled into a nest?

He dropped the newest handful of moss, preparing to bolt. But, from the

corner of his eye, he perceived an array of color. Smooth gold. Vivid pink.

Gleaming scarlet. He meant to glance, nothing more. A quick peek to ensure

no one sneaked up on him.

Instead, he stared and reared back, his eyes going wide.

Was he seeing what he thought he was seeing? Surely not. And yet…

Maybe.

Heart jumping, he lurched closer to the stone. Sucked in a breath. A girl. A fae.

Exquisite. She slept upon the slab, seemingly growing from the surface. Or

from the forest itself.

Lightning flashed, there and gone, showcasing a smattering of freckles, pink

cheeks and cherry lips that were bowed in the center. Other details hit him,

throwing him for loop after loop. They might be the same age. Flawless skin

the color of sunlight, vibrant with life. Delicate features usually only found on

royalty. A plain gown too short and tight to cover the abundance of shapely curves.

Who was she? Why was she here? What color were her eyes?

Excitement arced through Micah. Would she mind being friends with a chimera?

A rolling rumble precipitated the first splatter of rain. Cold droplets splashed his cheeks,

and he grinned. Let the liquid soak him. What did he care? He’d uncovered a treasure

of unsurpassed value.

The rain deluged her, too, her gown becoming transparent. Trembling suddenly more

pronounced, he reached out to brush droplets from her cheek.

A rustle sounded behind him, and he wheeled around, ready to defend his prize.

Too late. A tree loomed before him, and the truth hit, hard.

“Belua!” Hiding in plain sight.

A fat branch slammed into his head. He flew across the clearing,

dropping his makeshift weapon when he crashed into another tree.

His lungs emptied. So dizzy. No time to recover. Another branch

flung him in the opposite direction.

Ribs broke on impact, and agony seared him. Before he could rise, roots coiled around

his ankle and attempted to eject him from the clearing. He clawed at the ground,

determined to hold his position and shield the girl. Dirt and blood coated his tongue.

Bark scraped his spine. Limbs stabbed into different bones. Wheezing, fighting the

urge to vomit,

Micah rolled out of the way.

A limb pierced a vital organ, and an agonized scream burst from him. The pain! Then,

suddenly, he was airborne, soaring across the expanse. When he landed, a world of

darkness crackled open its jaw and swallowed him whole.

As Micah healed, he realized a startling truth. The monsters safeguarded the girl.

They hadn’t attacked until he uncovered her. More than that, they hadn’t struck to kill him.

Otherwise, he would be dead.

Why they guarded her—why they had shown him mercy—he didn’t know.

But he wondered. Was little Red on that stone slab of her own volition or a captive?

There was one way to find out…

Micah returned to the clearing—to her—with a firm goal in mind. Befriend these

belua. If he could join them, protect the girl until she awoke…

Was this a betrayal to Erwen and everything he’d stood for? Surely not.

His guardian had lived by four rules.

Do no harm to the innocent. Protect what’s yours. Always do what’s right

. Never be without a backup plan.

The sleeping beauty was vulnerable and in need of another fae.

Just in case the trees held her against her will.

What better path to travel than keeping her safe?

Micah advanced on the creatures cautiously, both hands lifted. “

You had every right to eject me,” he told them. In their minds,

he’d committed a terrible offense. Touching a female without her willing consent.

Or theirs. Now, he hoped to prove the innocence of his intentions.

“I did your fair lady wrong. Allow me to present her with a gift of apology.

And respect.” He revealed a red crystal he’d dug from the earth bright

and early this morning. “So much respect.”

A prolonged hesitation followed his words, anticipation stealing his breath.

Finally, the trees opened a doorway for him.

Giddy but remaining vigilant, he entered slowly, placed the present on

a step leading to the altar and backed away. Rather than exit, he faced

the largest of the bunch. “I mean her no harm, and I won’t touch her again

. If you’ll let me, I’ll help you with her protection.”

He wasn’t immediately impaled, a good sign. Micah set up camp.

As one week blended into another, the trees relaxed around him.

As their tension faded, bright leaves budded, creating a vibrant paradise.

For the first time in Micah’s life, provision without price abounded.

Various species of flowers, fruits and nuts flourished without cease,

dropping from overburdened limbs.

Nourishment rained all hours. In offering or apology, he didn’t know which.

Morning and evening, he thanked his companions for the bounty.

Never had Micah enjoyed such delicious meals. But…when will she awaken?

Fresh moss covered the girl, protecting her from sun, wind and rain.

Her sweet scent magnified daily, coating the air; he considered every inhalation a precious gift.

How did she sleep so deeply? And why? For how long?

Why did belua continue to protect her, no matter how much time passed?

Did she crave a friend? If the beautiful fae with freckles sought a fellow fae companion,

shouldn’t he oblige her?

Longing gripped Micah. But you aren’t a fae, are you? Not exactly

. He shifted in the bed he’d constructed with twigs and fallen hanks of moss.

He just…he wanted to belong to someone. To be welcomed. Maybe even admired.

What did such affection even feel like? And what was the beauty’s name?

Would she like his offerings? There were many.

Anytime a troll or centaur neared the clearing, Micah departed the ring to end the threat.

He collected supplies left by the dead, amassing a treasure trove of weapons, dried meats,

clothing, maps, coins and jewels. All for her. Well, mostly for her. He’d kept some of the clothing

for himself, exchanging a filthy, tattered tunic and ripped leathers for higher quality garments.

Even a cloak to help him hide the scars left by the tree attack.

Would she like him?

As he gathered an array of fruit for breakfast, he stole glances at her. For the first time,

much of the moss withered, baring her fully. Morning sunlight lent her golden skin an

otherworldly glow. Silken locks of auburn hair gleamed.

Curling black lashes cast spiky shadows over pinkened cheeks. Plump red lips with a

bowed center and a stubborn chin added to her captivating allure.

The girl— Wait. Had that cherry mouth parted? Micah froze, every cell buzzing.

Even the trees stilled, as if time suspended. Then…

A soft moan left her. The first sound she’d made since his arrival. Then she stretched her arms

over her head.

He dropped the bundle in his arms, pink-and-red fruit thudding to the ground, rolling away.

Startled by the noise, the girl jolted upright, auburn locks tumbling around her delicate shoulders.

She blinked to orient herself.

His mind raced with a thousand thought fragments. Even more beautiful…

jade eyes, brighter than the leaves…gown soon to tear apart at the seams…friend…

Mine?

She turned, maneuvering her legs over the side of the bed. Standing. Stretching.

As graceful as a swan he’d once spied in the Summer Court.

Micah stood in awe, utterly transfixed.

As if sensing him at last, she looked his way and gasped. Her mouth floundered

open and closed, fright overtaking her expression.

He hurried to offer a reassurance. “I mean you no—”

A high-pierced scream burst from her. The most horrifying sound he’d ever heard.

Sharp pains stabbed his brain, hot blood dripping from his ears. He slapped his palms

over the blood-soaked shells, but it didn’t help.

The trees snapped to attention. In an instant, leaves wilted. Fruit dried up. The belua army

lunged at him, and this time, they attacked to kill, stabbing and pummeling full force.

Pain wracked him, each injury teaching him a new lesson in agony.

Deserve this. He’d foolishly shown favor to an enemy. Had thought to become friends

with vessels of evil.

But the girl…

Will come back for her. The trees wouldn’t harm her. Even now, they kept her

out of harm’s way. If she required freedom, Micah would free her. But first,

he must survive.

He escaped the clearing, crawling out of range before collapsing in a beam

of sunlight, eating dirt. Then the darkness came…

by Gena Showalter. Published by arrangement with Harlequin Books S.A.

Book Summary:

Forbidden. Powerful. Ruthless.

Micah the Unwilling, fae King of the Forgotten, can tame even the most violent of beasts.

Forged on the battlefield, this iron-willed warrior considers his soldiers his family, and he will

stop at nothing to reclaim their dispossessed land. Gearing for war with a sadistic enemy, he is

disciplined and focused—until a feral beauty he encountered long ago wanders into his camp.

Viori de Aoibheall wields a terrifying ability to sing monsters to life. Having spent her childhood

in a forest, raising herself and her frightening creations—the only friends she’s ever

known—she’s ill prepared for the scarred royal and his fearsome brutality. Not to mention the

ferocity of their connection and the carnality of his touch. But the real problem? Her brother is

Micah’s greatest foe. And though the sensual king makes her burn, she must stop him,

whatever the cost.

Author Website: https://genashowalter.com/

Facebook: Gena Showalter

Twitter: @genashowalter

Instagram: @genashowalter

Goodreads

Author Bio:

Gena Showalter is the New York Times and USA TODAY

bestselling author of over seventy books, including the

acclaimed Lords of the Underworld series, the Gods of War

series, the White Rabbit Chronicles, and the Forest of Good and Evil series.

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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