Happy October, Book Monsters!
Some of my favorite fall quotes, a story excerpt, and a brand new anthology for Halloween.
Hello, hello, beautiful reader beasts!
How the heck are ya these days? The temps are dropping here in the Rockies and it’s giving me a sense of renewed energy for some story love. Tell me, what are you excited about reading this month?
Right off the bat, I want to share with you that I’m doing some work on my Monsters & Mystics site. I’m adding sections to it so that I can provide more fun content without overloading my normal newsletters. For starters, I’m moving some of my older blog posts from my website over here. I have some articles I’d like to bring over, and also some beautiful image quote lists that I enjoyed putting together, and I thought why not make a home for them over here on Substack too? If you love fall like I do, you’ll really like my “Favorite Fall Quotes list.” I had a lot of fun putting that one together in honor of the season. I also have a Spooky Romantic Halloween quotes list that I’ll put up probably some time next week too. If you’d like to be notified when I put content in these sections, you’re welcome to subscribe to them directly (I can’t recommend the app for this enough) or just keep an eye out for the links in my regular newsletters. Here’s that Fall Quotes post again:
Alright, now for some big news! I have a really awesome book for you that’s coming out this month, just in time for Halloween. The Booktober 2022 anthology is full of sexy Halloween themed PNR stories, and it features some of my best author friends. It’s also a charity anthology for the National Domestic Violence Hotline so it’s an awesome cause to support. And just take a look at this cover!
Grrr. Amiright?
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There is a chill in the air and the scent of pumpkin spice on the wind. So take a seat by our fireside, my pretties, because Booktober is back.
All Hallow’s Eve is when our bookish fantasies come to life. This spicy paranormal romance collection is packed full of spooky twists and tantalizing turns. Each page will suck you deeper into a world filled with vampires and demons–shifters, aliens and witches, too.
Join us as we discover the sexy creatures lurking in the shadows who will raise the hair on your arms and warm your blood to boiling.
This year’s Booktober charity anthology features original work from:
Mariah Thayer
K. O. Newman
Miri Stone
Shelly Ferguson
T. K. Eldridge
Amanda V Shane
Shanna Swensen
N. J. Johnson
Jade Bones
Dallas E. Love
All intimate scenes in this book are consensual, however, the depictions of adult activity may be graphic. As such, this anthology is for an adult audience only. 18+ readers.
All proceeds will be donated in support of the National Domestic Violence Hotline.
I just have to share a little bit about my Booktober 2022 story, then I have the first chapter for you to read.
Get ready for: Who’s Afraid of the… Sexy Villain?
Story blurb -
Angel waited and waited for her power as a magickal to make itself evident. When she reached adulthood and it never did, she gave up hope. The legacy of her family would die with her. All she’d ever wanted was for a way to prove herself useful to the witches, warlocks, and other magickals that hold evil at bay to present itself. Will a run in with the infamous Big Bad Wolf on Halloween night help her find it?
Trigger warnings:
Gropy-ness upon first meeting, a fair amount of pushy-shovy-ness from the alpha male type in the beginning, a tragic past, fear topics, and facing fears.
As you’ve probably figured out by now, I based my story on the infamous, fairy tale villain, the Big Bad Wolf. Why? Because Halloween and sexy wolf-shiter MCs just seem to go together, duh! But is the Big Bad Wolf really all that bad? Especially, when he’s been falsely imprisoned in a cyber jail by the magickal community for centuries? I mean, what if the wolf himself is the one snared in a trap? Read on for the opening of my ode to the Big Bad Wolf character.
*Little note - My story is actually set in a modern day fantasy world. This first chapter goes back in time purely to set the stage. I had a great time writing it!
1
Black Forest Kingdom, 1792
The path darkened, day’s light waning in the forest as evening approached. Dried leaves and pins crunched beneath their feet as they walked, his companion’s falling much lighter than his own.
“Thank you for your escort, Lord Warvorecht. It’s very kind of you.”
“My pleasure, miss,” it was only then he realized the raven-haired beauty hadn’t offered him her name. “These woods are known to grow dangerous after dark.”
She smiled over her shoulder at him, the long black fringe of her lashes shading her eyes.
“Mm, I suppose,” she mused, the humor in her tone admitting she didn’t quite believe him. Of course she didn’t. The humans in the villages surrounding his lands didn’t realize the war that raged involving those beyond their understanding. They had no idea the battle he waged with other magickals, even his own kind. “I’m normally not out so late. My pursuits made me forgetful of the hour, I’m afraid.”
She lifted the covered metal pail she held. Warvorecht lifted a brow, the barest hint of a smile crossing his lips. She was a pretty thing, and alone in an area where ill forces, both human and otherwise, prowled, especially on full moons.
“Your efforts were fruitful then I hope.”
She dipped her head; her smile flashing as she did.
“Indeed, my lord, very. There is a great bounty to be found in an elderberry patch just over the rise at the edge of the forest. They have medicinal properties, I am told. I’m taking them to my ailing grande mere, to brew a tea for her.”
When she spoke, her plump red lips had the most mesmerizing effect.
“Elderberries.” He heard his voice repeating the word. Her smile brightened.
“Are you fond, my lord?”
He blinked. What was he doing? He had dire matters to attend to. A meeting with the leaders of his own kind was set to take place as soon as night fell. His decision for them and their brethren was sure to be ill met. And yet here he stood, allowing himself a moment’s beguilement at the hand of a mere maid.
“Ah, I can’t say that I’ve ever had the pleasure.”
“Never? Why…” she stopped walking and faced him. She lifted the pail again, her hand dipping under the lid only to reemerge with a plump, round, black-purple berry. She stepped closer to him, stretching her arm out as she went. When she stopped, the tips of her fingers were a breath away from his lips. “Try it.” She coaxed.
She stood so close that all he saw was her face, her shapely lips forming the words she spoke. Her eyes entreating and alluring at the same time. Ranulf opened his mouth, and she rolled the fruit onto his tongue. The berry popped as soon as he bit down, its juices sweet and tart with an underlying bitterness all at the same time. The liquid trailed a distinct burn down his throat that he allowed his keen senses to dismiss as eyes lit on the maiden’s blush when his lips brushed her flesh. She pulled her hand down.
He watched as she moved past him, a shy smile on her face. Her eyes held his until, finally, she tilted her head toward the path.
“My grandmother’s cottage is just here, my lord.”
Ranulf glanced down the lane, through some trees. Out of nowhere, it seemed, a small stone house with a thatched roof upon it appeared. How had he missed it? It stood not twenty paces away. As soon as he saw it, his vision blurred. A tightness seized his throat and chest, bitterness burned in his mouth so sharp he gasped for breath.
“My lord, are you well?” The girl’s mottled figure stood at the cottage door. “Come inside, sir.” She pushed the door open, stepping inside.
Ranulf stumbled forward, his limbs leaden. The sounds of his own wheezing breath met his ears as he trudged a drunkard’s path forward to the house.
“Wha…” he rasped, his voice grating out of his throat as he stumbled through the doorway after the girl for an accounting of what she’d done to him. The blurry flicker of flames in a hearth deep within the tiny abode seared his vision, but he didn’t catch sight of the maid. When he swung his head to search for her, it shook his already precarious balance and sent him crumbling to the floor. A shadow fell over him.
Bringing his head up, he found a new, hazy figure hovering over him.
“At last, dread wolf, you’ve met your end.” As his watery eyes focused, an elderly woman came into view. Most likely the aforementioned ‘grandmother’, though she did not look ill or weak. Her image wavered in and out of Ranulf’s focus while he gasped for air, one hand stretched out, pointing an Elder wand at his chest. A dark red cloak to match the girl’s obscured the rest of the old woman’s figure, though its hood rested back on her shoulders. Spittle rolled down Ranulf’s chin in a wet trail when he tried to speak. All he managed to emit was a thin, pained noise from his throat.
“Rabid beast!” The grandmother sneered. “You and your ilk will ravage these lands no more, Lord Warvorecht. Your lack of restraint, inability to control your brethren, and your bloodlust have upset the balance. Dark magickals such as you have no place in this world.”
A female voice spoke softly to someone behind him at the open cottage door. More voices, those of men, muttered in response.
“What is happening?” Ranulf rasped.
“The decree of the magickals’ Order of the Red Cloak is that you are hereby stripped of your powers, Lord Warvorecht, and relegated to imprisonment for all time.”
Ranulf’s head came up, eyes flashing as he stared at the witch. Could she do this? Who were the others? He could not see them.
“As for your clan. They will haunt these woods no more.”
He dare not think what she meant. He’d been on his way to meet with the clans that night. By the light of the full moon, the pact was to be instituted. The weres would give up their power willingly. There was no need for this! And at the hands of witches, no less.
“Bring me the book, dear one.” The grandmother reached her free hand out to the side. Immediately, the dark-haired maid came into view. Those eyes he’d thought so lovely on the path outside flashed malice his way. She placed a thick leather-bound spell book in her grandmother’s hand. Before Ranulf’s eyesight went bleary again, he caught sight of a symbol burnt into the tome’s binding. The grandmother swung back around to him, the book falling open in a flash of movement. She turned her stare directly at him one last time.
“Goodbye, Lord Wolf.”
Then her eyes lit. A glow burst forth from the pages of the spell book as the old witch began an incantation. Ranulf’s whole being was racked with tremors as a whirlwind circled round him. He tried to rise, but his efforts proved futile. He was no match for this witch of the Red Cloak and her treacherous granddaughter. That was his last thought before lightning seared his vision. Then all fell into darkness.
Oh, dear. Poor wolf! If you want to see what happens when Lord Ranulf Warvorecht— the OG Big Bad Wolf—is set free on the modern world and one unsuspecting, redheaded witch-in-training in particular, pre-order your copy of Booktober 2022.
Well, that’s all I got for now, Monsters. Be sure to stay in touch as we head into the busy days ahead. I’m only an email or a comment away and I love hearing about all the fun your getting into.
Till next time,
Stay in the magic!
Amanda V Shane