Showing posts with label Dark Fantasy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dark Fantasy. Show all posts

Saturday, August 22, 2026

"Justice, Or Something Like It," by: Doc Blalock — Book Tour & Giveaway!

 Hello readers and friends. Today I am featuring one more book tour for you all to check out. This book belongs to Doc Blalock and is titled "Justice, Or Something Like It." Dive into a sneak peek below and find out all the book details provided by the author. Find out how to purchase your copy of book 2 and book 1 today. Happy reading everyone :).

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A private eye with a badge, a bottle, and a little bit of magic…

Justice, Or Something Like It
The Jake Bishop Files Book 2
by: Doc Blalock
Genre: Noir Paranormal Sleuth Suspense



“Secrets. Everyone has them. Some folks keep them for good and noble reasons, others, not so much. All kinds of secrets. Personal, professional, valuable, harmful or embarrassing. People will go to extremes to keep them safe. Some folks have been willing to die for them. Some will kill to protect them. I’m Jake Bishop, private investigator. Secrets are my job.”


BLURB:

In Solomon City, everybody keeps secrets. Secrets are Jake Bishop’s job.

When a harmless old drunk is caught standing over a corpse, murder weapon in hand, the case looks open and shut—but he won’t say why he pulled the trigger. Just that it had to be done.

Bishop knows better. Digging deeper, he uncovers a blackmail scheme, a shadow war in the Irish underworld, and a threat aimed at the one person his old friend has left to lose—forcing Bishop to bend the law, and his own conscience, to see something like justice done.

Purchase your Copy Today!

Add to your TBR List!

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A Damned Dirty Thing
The Jake Bishop Files Book 1


BLURB:

The explosion should have killed him . . .

Jake Bishop is back on the streets of Solomon City, ten months after a mob bombing destroyed his office and murdered his partner and secretary. But Bishop isn’t just any private detective—he’s a “ditch wizard” able to step through shadow and bend reality to his will.

When the beautiful and mysterious Portia Vance answers his ad for a new secretary, Bishop thinks his luck might finally be changing. Together, they begin hunting Vito Morelli, the mob boss who ordered the hit that nearly ended Bishop’s life.

Their investigation leads them through the city’s darkest corners—from strip clubs to shadow banking operations, from corrupt cops to magical wards. But in a world where bullets and spells are equally deadly, and where everyone has secrets worth killing for, Bishop discovers that the line between hunter and hunted is thinner than he thought.

Some cases require a gun. Others need magic. This one demands both.

In the shadows of Solomon City, justice comes with a price—and revenge wears a beautiful face.

A gritty noir fantasy that proves sometimes the most dangerous magic is the human heart.

Purchase your Copy Today!

Add to your TBR List!

Check out Reviews and Recommendations!

Check out the Book Trailer:


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Christopher “Doc” Blalock is a US Navy veteran Corpsman and retired counselor. He is a prolific fine artist, illustrator, musician, sculptor and writer, cursed with the itch to create. He draws inspiration from sources ranging from JRR Tolkien to Tom Clancy. He additionally draws from his love of classic black-and-white noir films, infusing their moody aesthetic and storytelling into his writing. A helpless coffee addict, he lives in the Atlanta suburbs with his childhood sweetheart and a dog of dubious moral character.

Learn more about Doc...



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Enter to Win:

Print or eBook copy of "Justice, Or Something Like It,"

$20 Amazon or PayPal Gift Card

— 1 Winner Each!

Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

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Saturday, July 25, 2026

"The Lesitha Veil Tales," by: CM Dawson — Book Tour & Giveaway!

 Hello everyone. Today is another day for some fun bookish posts. I am going to feature a book tour for CM Dawson's two books in her "Lesitha Veil Tales." You can dive into both of the books with sneak peeks, and book details. Don't miss out on these two books in this series. You won't want to miss them and book 2 is on sale for 99¢ for a limited time. Make sure to grab your books today. Happy reading :).

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Every choice echoes across worlds. Freedom or Chaos; Stability or Control?

The Edge of Oblivion
The Lesitha Veil Tales Book 1
by: CM Dawson
Genre: Epic SciFi Fantasy Adventure


Then there was the Great Xan Janal, who claimed to have gone over the Edge and slayed a mighty beast to save a village. He boasted that there were many worlds, all separated by the Veil. There were people of different races who spoke weird languages. Some were tall and fair with long, flowing, silver hair. Others were short, squat, covered in fur and grunted a lot. Those stories always made me laugh. My eyes blurred as tears welled up, thinking of him. Whether they were real or figments of his imagination, Xan had given his life to sharing his stories of adventure. And I wasn’t about to let him down.

As I crawled on, I wondered which world I would find on the other side of the Veil. Would it be a world of thick jungles, filled with loud, screaming creatures jumping from one towering tree to the next? Or would it be a crystalline world overflowing with unimaginable colours? I was hoping for the water world, for Muut’s sake, except for the whole swimming thing. That scared me.

I looked back again and then beyond Muut. I scanned the horizon and watched as the heat rippled off the scorched ground. The only things that stood as high as a man here were the boulders that dotted the landscape. There was no lush green foliage, and the rivers were more often dry more than filled with water. I dreamed of seeing the leaves of a plant that was as big as me. I fantasised about dipping my fingers into a cool running stream and carrying the refreshing water to my lips; skipping stones across its surface and seeing splashes instead of puffs of dust.

I didn’t know if Xan’s stories were real or made-up fantasies to impress the ladies. But what I knew was that I didn’t want to die without at least attempting to find out. I owed him that much. So I turned back and faced the Edge. I checked the straps that held my knives tucked against my wrists. I placed my right hand out in front of me and then my right knee, then my left hand, left knee. I slowly crawled to the Edge.

The fingers on my left hand reached it first. I stopped and looked at my hand. The tips of my fingers curved over an edge. My breath caught in my throat. I moved my right hand up to match my left and swallowed deeply as the tips of both hands were now bent joyously over the Edge of our world. I slowly lowered myself down to the rough ground and felt the sharp rocks poking me in my chest and belly. 

Carefully, I pulled my body up to the Edge and peered over. The air coalesced into a swirling mist of obscurity, roiling and bulging, causing my vision to slide and refocus as I tried to peer through it. 

I pulled myself up to the Edge, raising onto my elbows and stretching my neck as far as I could. The grey mist swirled around my head forming dewdrops on my cheeks. I blew into it, watching as it whirled madly away from me, quickly folding back in on itself. I extended my arm and felt a cool dampness cover me like a second skin. The further I extended it, the less I could see of it. 

I pulled myself up and swivelled around to sit on the Edge with my legs now dangling freely. My feet disappeared into the swirling mist that roiled below me. Then I leaned out as far as I could and swished my arms back and forth, trying to clear a view through the grey wall. 

I either leaned too far or whipped my arms too wildly, because I tumbled off the ledge into the mist. My heart leapt as I felt myself sliding down the edge of the world. Suddenly, I jerked to a stop when the rope tied to my ankle caught me tight. My breath gushed from my lungs and my heart pounded my ribs. 

I heard Muut calling to me, his cries distant, muffled. 

I hung for a moment, dangling upside down against the edge of the world. I released my fear as I pushed myself up away from the rough rock face. Curling my knees beneath me, I crouched for a moment, waiting to see if I would fall. Nothing happened. The cool mist swirled around me; my head swooned with the mesmerising movement.  

I filled my lungs with the moist air and stood. Fully expecting to topple over, I stretched my arms wide to catch myself when I did. I stood there as rigid as a boulder with my arms spread, knees locked, breath held, eyes tightly closed.

Nothing. 

I slowly opened my left eye, peeking, face scrunched tight, awaiting the imagined impact. Both eyes sprang open, and the air exploded out of my lungs. A breathtaking view assaulted my eyes. 


BLURB:

"We were younger than we realised and equally naïve."

Dive into The Edge of Oblivion — a coming of age fantasy of secret map books, a dying storyteller’s last wish, and a crystal key that reveals tears in reality. Discover a richly imagined world, fast paced adventure, and a hero who must choose between duty and destiny — buy now and step over the Veil.

The veil is weakening and shreds between the worlds are becoming more frequent. Darkness is spreading. A new Rysyn is sought to replace the Torsoma before it’s too late and the veil fails, releasing chaos across the facet worlds.

Bex Gartan has no desire to follow her father into the Grinders Guild – or die of stone lung like he did. A rebellious 17-year-old, just weeks before her Liberation Day, a brutal encounter shatters her world. In a shadowy alley, she faces a tragedy and finds her destiny.

Bex's determination to find the truth pulls her into a conflict that spans multiple worlds. She becomes the target of assassins, the pawn of questionable advisors, and now the unlikely successor to the leader of the Facet worlds. Bex must learn to temper her impulsive nature and trust her instincts if she’s to save her friends, and the Facet worlds.

Will she be the saviour they seek or the herald of chaos?

Purchase your Copy Today!

Add to your TBR List!

Check out Reviews and Recommendations!


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Dark Side of the Veil
The Lesitha Veil Tales Book 2


“Come,” the ‘naut commanded. 

I turned my attention back to the wall where a trickle of moisture ran down a groove, around a rivet, and disappeared behind the bench.

The white-hot tearing of my scalp ripped a scream from my chest as the ‘naut yanked me to my feet by my braid. He held me, dangling in the air for a moment before releasing me. My hands went to my head and returned covered in blood.

“Come or be dragged.” 

The warmth of the blood running down my back held me for a moment. Then Tar was at my side, gripping my elbow to guide me.

“Walk,” he commanded.

My legs felt like they were full of sand, but I made them move as he guided me out of the cell and we followed the ‘naut through the maze of passages. “Where are you taking me now?” I whispered.

Tar ignored my question, but I felt a tightening on my elbow.

“Why are you helping someone like him?”

Again, no response, but this time there was a tug on my elbow. “Okay, at least tell me where you’re taking me?”

The massive head of the ‘naut glanced back at us. “No speak. Walk.”

We rode up out of the cells in an open lift. The fresh air felt good against my sweaty face. I studied the bleak world of Vrellum as we rose and wondered if my friends were somewhere lost in the labyrinthine maze of metal gantries and yellow haze.

The platform stopped and the ‘naut led us out into brighter, well-lit passages. We were back in the fortress of Urbo’Krk. We weren’t led to the main assembly chamber. This time the ‘naut led me past the big wooden doors with the familiar motifs etched on them. Instead, I was taken to a smaller chamber. As we entered, a light came on above a large metal chair that sat in the centre of the room. There were straps on the arms and the footrest. I stopped short, making Tar bump into me.

The ‘naut pointed. “Sit.”

I threw my head back, catching Tar off guard and smashing his face, just missing his already flattened nose. My elbow connected with his ribs, and I heard a satisfying grunt. Turning to run, I wasn’t quick enough. The one-eyed Omaj blocked my exit, and the ‘naut grabbed my shoulder, pinching me, and I screamed at the crushing of my bones. He threw me into the chair, slamming my head against the upper backrest. I left a bloody imprint from his earlier threat of dragging me. I tried to get up but felt pressure on my chest. It forced me back into the chair.

“Enough.” Urbo’Krk stepped out of the shadows with Cog at his side. He’d removed his cape and the silver breastplate. He now wore a black vest that allowed him to display his mechanical arms. Beneath the close-fitting fabric, I could see that his neck and chest were flesh. There was a seam where the augmented arms attached to his shoulders. The join was smooth and had a natural appearance as if the black mesh were just another type of skin.

He leaned over me. His presence felt heavy. The pressure built on my chest, and I tried to take a deeper breath, but could only sip the air. I turned away and refused to acknowledge him.

“Ah yes, you feel my strength.” He stood and pointed at Tar. His energy pushed against me, pressing me into the metal seat. Tar remained standing against the wall and motioned for Omaj to strap my wrists and ankles to the chair.

“I wish to examine you.” He spoke calmly as he turned and walked to a table that ran the length of one wall. “It isn’t every day a Rysyn passes through my world.”

My teeth felt like they might pop out as I spoke through my clenched jaw. “I’ve never heard of a Rysyn and don’t know why you think I’m one. I was only looking for the truth.”

I glared at Tar as I spoke my defiant words. His stoic face drew tight as he stared at me and shook his head. Cog had stepped further into the room and now sat at my side. His quizzically tilted head indicating his attention.

Urbo’Krk’s broad back hunched over the table now straightened as he slowly turned back to look at me. “I will learn what makes you a Rysyn,” his eyes flicked to Cog, “or I’ll make the cog suffer for your defiance.”

Cog tilted his head as he gazed from me to his master. I couldn’t be certain if he understood the threat that Urbo’Krk had made, but I also wouldn’t be the reason that he suffered any further abuse under this monster.

My jaw remained clenched as I slumped defeated into the chair. Tears welled in my eyes as Urbo’Krk came toward me carrying a mesh of wires.

“That’s better. Now sit still; this will hardly hurt.”


BLURB:

When Bexlin Gartan is kidnapped into a world of metal and gears, the impulsive daughter of a storyteller must reclaim a stolen Lesitha Crystal and learn why her blood marks her as the next Rysyn—before a tyrant uses her power to shred the Veil and destroy everything.

Bex crossed the veil for adventure - now she may never return home, may never see her ma again or laugh with her friends. Stranded in a dark Facet, ruled by a tyrant set on seeking revenge and using her to fulfil his vengeance, she must decide whether she will become his pawn or fight to save all she loves.

Separated from her friends, she convinces the strange mechanically augmented half-lifes to help her find them and to return home, but not before she tries to stop the demented ruler, Urbo'Krk. Uncertain who to trust or what the rising energy building within her means, she must learn to control her impetuous ways and calm her mind. Only then can she face the truth of her destiny - saviour or destroyer.

Will she bring stability or usher in chaos?

*** ON SALE FOR ONLY 99¢ ON AMAZON & KOBO! ***

Purchase your Copy Today!

Add to your TBR List!

Check out Reviews and Recommendations!


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CM Dawson is an indie fantasy author and the founder of Crystal Path Publishing, writing multi-world adventure fiction from the rolling green hills of Wiltshire, England. Her debut series, The Lesitha Tales, follows Bex Gartan — a headstrong, impulsive 17-year-old who finds herself thrust into a power struggle that spans multiple worlds. Compared to Samantha Shannon, Brandon Sanderson, and Suzanne Collins, the series blends fast-paced action, vivid world-building, and a fierce coming-of-age heart. She crafts immersive multiverse fantasy filled with emotional stakes, dark magic, and lore rich worldbuilding. The first two books — The Edge of Oblivion and Dark Side of the Veil — are available now. A space opera trilogy, a short story collection, and a dystopian novel are all in development. When she is not writing, she can be found gardening, editing the local parish magazine, playing skittles, or being bossed around by her two English Bulldogs, Sage and Bubba.

Learn more about CM Dawson...



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Enter to Win:

Swag pack with a signed first edition of "The Edge of Oblivion," 
bookmark, stickers, cog mug & postcards,

$20 Amazon or PayPal Gift Card,

— 1 Winner Each!

Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

Next Stop on the Tour:

































Saturday, July 11, 2026

"Mystics in Hell," compiled by: Janet Morris — Book Tour & Giveaway!

 Hello readers. It's a busy Saturday and I got one more book post for you all to enjoy. Check out this book tour featuring author A.L. Butcher and the box set "Mystics in Hell," that was compiled by Janet Morris. You will find details on all the stories within the collection along with a sneak peek into A.L. Butcher's story itself. Hope you snag a copy and enjoy the read. Happy reading everyone :).

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No heaven can save them from their own twisted visions—welcome to a side of the underworld you have never dared to imagine.

Mystics in Hell
A Heroes in Hell Anthology
Compiled by Janet Morris
Genre: Dark Fantasy Anthology


From The Abode of Woe by A.L. Butcher


Paradise’s dim light grew ever dimmer as the hell-lights began to glare with the blue glow of sulfur. It was an unforgiving light for the unforgiven. Word had got around, and crowds had begun to gather for the evening’s entertainment. Calchas had started a book on the outcome of the battle, and the diablos were rolling in.

“Two to One for the Pig Man!” yelled a grifter clad in the sharpest suit of the evening. 

“Seven to Four for the Prince!” bellowed another voice, shrill in the crowd.

Kevin the fiend grinned. He was having the time of his unlife; he’d read the small-print.

“Are they ready?” Calchas asked, eying the large and sinister cloth-covered mounds on opposing sides of the temple.

“Yep. Ready for mayhem, master.” A smiling fiend is not something to stir the heart with confidence or joy and Calchas sobered. He wondered if he should feel guilty, but he had enough of that to last a thousand lifetimes and these New Dead had brought it on themselves. At least that is what he told himself and Cassandra.

“Ego fighting ego will bring no good for either. A temple built in haste to honor mere vanity and lies will surely fall to dust.” Cassandra stared at the mounds, hoping these fire-spiting death machines would not bring them all to the Undertaker’s door. Were they too close? She closed her eyes and let her mind wander.

“Will we be punished for this venture?” He’d asked, thinking too late they may have erred and voicing both their fears. He hoped nothing would backfire; plans in hell oft went awry. And he knew that sooner or later he’d pay the price for this deceit.

“This is Hades. Punishment is inherent. But I think not . . . at least not on this day. ‘Rue thy former life, and revel in thy afterlife, for thou art damned.’ Is that not the advice you once gave me? We are the damned. We must survive as we may. But those infernal and wicked weapons of the new-dead — Surely the walls of Ilium would have fallen on the first day.” She paused, “Would we have fought with such demon-weapons of war?”

Calchas gazed over to the two looming cloth-bound shapes. “Probably. Priam and Agamemnon would have found some means to destroy one another, no doubt. Man’s capacity for war outweighs his capacity for reason — and this place is full of the testimonials to that.”

“They will fall in dust as vain men are wont to do.” Cassandra told him.

“They won’t go through with it. It would be suicide. That building will fall down in the next hell-storm,” Calchas replied, doubtful.

They’d watched the crowd assemble from a reasonable distance. “Pack up. In case. And I will try to steer the mayhem from our door to be on the safe side, should the range of those war-weapons be enough to hit us. Make sure you are careful where you stand.

“Look there’s old Assisi. Out for the entertainment, along with everyone else by the looks. Let’s see — drinks are half-price.” Calchas would not let this opportunity pass. 

Cassandra nodded, “Where did you get the fire-spitters?”

“Che Guevara owes me a favor. It might be useful to keep one—just in case. How hard can they be to use? Look, come there are our two brave heroes.” Calchas separated himself from Cassandra, still in the guise of the department man, and wandered over to the two Prophets.

“So, gentlemen, are we ready to settle this? Remember the winner gets control of that site, should it still be standing. The loser, or losers . . .will have more immediate issues to deal with.” Calchas motioned to the nearer of the covered shapes. “Who would like Big Bertha?”

The Reverend Henry Prince stared doubtfully at the shape. “That’s not a sword, or a firearm.”

“Give that make a Heck-Cookie!” Kevin chortled. He’d been milling and warming up the onlookers. With a flourish he tugged the cloth away — to reveal a howitzer, pointing towards the Temple of Woe. It was an evil-looking device, as were many man-made machines of death. “Humans, they do like to kill one another in all sorts of inventive ways! Welcome Big Bertha. She’s a friendly girl!”

“And the other?” Smyth-Pigott asked, his voice tremulous.

They walked across to a lower-slung shape. “Gentlemen, meet Roaring Meg, the deadly maiden of the English Roundheads,” Kevin chuckled.

“Not your era, I suppose, but they do the job. They are primed for combat. Meg has helpers: she fires but one ball at a time, yet she’s a fiery lass and one of the more knowledgeable operatives of hell has evened the odds.” Calchas held his palm out, containing dice. “Whoever rolls snake-eyes gets first choice, but Meg is a little slower, and older, and thus she fires first.”

“What happens if we refuse this ridiculous plan?” Henry Prince could not take his eyes from the cannon.

“Refuse? I wasn’t aware that was an option.” Calchas feigned surprise.

Kevin murmured something in Calchas’ ear, “My associate says it is an option but if a refusal is forthcoming then all rights are revoked to build now and for infernity, Sentence will be the six-hundred and sixty-five years of cleaning Perish sewers, and you must publicly affirm your rival as the true Chosen One, the true heir and the ultimate seer. And as both are equally guilty you will have to work together, and your women too, forever. If both refuse, then it must be done at exactly the same time. Whomever speaks first is deemed the greater coward.”


BLURB:

Mystic Madness!
Join the doomed on their vision quests in eleven stories by the damnedest writers in Perdition: Janet Morris; A.L. Butcher; Joe Bonadonna; Andrew P. Weston; Gustavo Bondoni; Seth Lindberg; Tom Barczak; Michael H. Hanson; Louis Antonelli; Christopher Crosby Morris.

Mystics in Hell is the latest volume in the notorious Heroes in Hell series of anthologies and novels created by Janet Morris.

A Frame of Mind by Janet Morris & Chris Morris
Kit Marlowe treks back from exile, where he has encountered three witches. Carrying a skull which he found on a blasted heath, he arrives at the Globe, where Satan and the angel of death accost him. At their displeasure, he’s banished once more, this time to return instantly via the powers of the Fates. Satan meets him at a cast party and decrees that Kit not only will spy for him, but play Banquo, beheaded in each subsequent performance of Macbeth.

The Come Right Inn by Andrew P. Weston
Where we meet up with one of Satan’s most secretive agents. A charming woman with a finger—and most other body parts—in every pie. She’s bewitching, beguiling, and bedeviled to be sure, but won’t think twice about skinning you alive if you cross her.

Abode of Woe by A.L. Butcher
When the self-proclaimed anti-messiah builds a temple on their doorstep and ruins business, Calchas and Cassandra look to some devious means to bring down the walls. Dueling mystics and misinformation bring mayhem to the underworld.

Fool’s Gold by S.E. Lindberg
A tale of the Egyptian god of mysticism, Thoth, who seeks conspirators to retrieve the Philosopher’s Stone; with it, Thoth could usurp Satan’s control of the realm of Duat. Taking up the charge is Howard Carter, infamous antiquarian and tomb raider, and the disgraced evolutionist Ernst Haeckel. They discover that King Midas’s alchemical ability to transmute flesh into gold relies on the stolen stone, and Midas is producing Hell’s new gastro-currency: buttcoin. They infiltrate the Mortuary Mint and sabotage the currency’s production. Instead of returning the stone to Thoth, the duo uses it to build up their own fortune. The auditors of Hell, namely the First and Second of the Sibitti, police the matter.

The True Believer by  Lou Antonelli
Few national leaders of the 20th century had as much of a negative and controversial impact on history as Hendrik Frensch Verwoerd, prime minister of South Africa from 1958 to 1966, when he was assassinated. Commonly referred to in South Africa as “Dr.” Verwoerd, he had a PhD in psychology, and went down in history as The Man Who Invented Apartheid. Now in Hell, Dr. Verwoerd refuses to acknowledge his infernal fate and gets a special visit to set him straight.

By Any Means Necessary by Gustavo Bondoni
Umberto Eco knows he’s in Hell; the suffering and multiple deaths that never kill him permanently are more than enough of a clue for a man of his learning.  But when he gets forcibly recruited by Nazi Commando Otto Skorzeny to prove the theories of one of history’s greatest charlatans, he thinks things can’t get any worse.  He’s wrong.  Hell can always get worse.

Excalibur by Tom Barczak
When dealing with the harsh reality of the Afterlife: Hell can be hard. But Rasputin has something even harder, and Lafayette Ronald Hubbard desperately needs it if he is going to pull off the greatest magic trick Hell has ever known.

On The Run by Michael H. Hanson
Tells of Sufi mystic Rumi, Zen Buddhist Dōgen, and Charlatan Spiritualist Mina Crandon using their new-found magics on the grandest of all quests, to find powerful talismans that will allow them to escape Hell itself.

The Sorcerous Apprentice by  Andrew P. Weston
Daemon Grim learns new tricks from an old dog. And just as well. There’s a fallen saint to bring to heel, and she’s not known for playing ball . . . crystal or otherwise.

The Colossus of Hell by Joe Bonadonna
Doctor Victor Frankenstein and computer scientist Alan Turing want to build a cyborg. Quasimodo wants to win the hand of the French fortune teller, Marie Anne Lenormand. Rasputin and Cagliostro want to open an exclusive, private club. And a mysterious damned soul, known only as the Orange Ogre, wants revenge against anyone in Hell who ever cheated or betrayed him, laughed at and humiliated him, or even ignored him—especially His Satanic Majesty himself.

Strange Arts by Janet Morris and Chris Morris
In a Tower cell, Marlowe’s head struggles to regain consciousness and rejoin his body. Here he finds his Elizabethan spymaster, Walsingham, waiting with J the Merciful and three mysterious Sisters. After painfully stitching together his body and soul, the five entreat him to join their most secret conspiracy.

Purchase your Copy Today!

Add to your TBR List!

Check out Reviews and Recommendations!


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A.L. Butcher

British-born A. L. Butcher is an avid reader and creator of worlds, a poet, and a dreamer, a lover of science, natural history, history, and monkeys. Her prose has been described as ‘dark and gritty’ and her poetry as ‘evocative’. She writes with a sure and sometimes erotic sensibility of things that might have been, never were, but could be.

Alex is the author of the Light Beyond the Storm Chronicles and the Tales of Erana lyrical fantasy se-ries. She also has several short stories in the fantasy, fantasy romance genres with occasional forays into gothic style horror, including the Legacy of the Mask series. With a background in politics, classi-cal studies, ancient history and myth, her affinities bring an eclectic and unique flavour in her work, mixing reality and dream in alchemical proportions that bring her characters and worlds to life.

She also curates speculative fiction themed book bundles on Pubshare - for the most part - the Here Be Series

Alex is also proud to be a writer for Perseid Press where her work features in Heroika: Dragon Eaters, Heroika Skirmishers – where she was editor and cover designer as well as writer – as well as Lovers in Hell and Mystics in Hell – part of the acclaimed Heroes in Hell series. http://www.theperseidpress.com/

Learn more about A.L. Butcher...

X | X

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Enter to Win:

Choice of Print or eBook copy of Mystics in Hell,

$20 Amazon or PayPal Gift Card,

— 1 Winner Each!

Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

Next Stop on the Tour:
July 12th





















Saturday, July 4, 2026

New Release: "Where Dragons are Captured," by: Fran Zuid

 Hello readers. Welcome back to a bookish Saturday with more tours for you to enjoy. Today I am featuring Fran Zuid's new release "Where Dragons Are Captured." You can check out the sneak peek she provided for us below and find out why you should purchase this epic grimdark dragon fantasy adventure today. Happy reading everyone :).

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How much would you wager to save a dragon?
Your safety, your friends, your people?
How about your life?

Where Dragons Are Captured
Where Dragons Are Book 1
by: Fran Zuid
Genre: Epic Grimdark Dragon Fantasy Adventure


The girl showed up with their tankards and a jug of homebrew. The man’s attention went straight to her cleavage. The hairy man pinched her behind for good measure before tipping her. Skye used the distraction to nick a card from the pack, a prince, hiding it in her coat sleeve. She waited for the girl to leave before dealing. The cards were soft, faded, and stained from nights of gambling.

Skye watched the three players as they scrutinized their cards. ‘Stupid’ smiled, Sid’s left eye twitched. The hairy man downed his tankard of homebrew.

Skye looked at her cards, she had two of pawns and a prince. On the table were a five and a seven of shields, a castle, and a three of pawns. Skye wasn’t sure what ‘Stupid’ thought he had, but Skye was pretty sure Sid had a castle, giving him the highest pair from the table. 

Skye’s attention turned to the hairy man. The more she watched him, the more he seemed a ‘Stupid’ and in that case, no threat to Skye. He was only lucky with the previous hand.

Skye had the winning hand if she switched her two of pawns for the prince in her sleeve. ‘Stupid’ started the bets, throwing half his coin in, four silvers. Sid saw the bet and the hairy man added a silver. 

She didn’t want to chase away Sid, so she also raised with only a silver coin. Keep it modest, keep it moving.

As the bets evened out around the table, Skye shifted her weight slightly and slid one hand under the edge of her sleeve. A quiet motion, a simple flick. She switched her cards—replacing a dud with a prince. Now she had two.

But just as her fingertips closed over the edge of the second card, a hand clamped down on her shoulder.

Steel. Not touch. Not pressure. Just steel.

“That is enough. We know what you are,” a male voice said. “Good call, Jim, you will get your reward. And you,” the man’s grip tightened slightly, “Finn Skylar, just won yourself a meeting with the gambler’s guild.”

Her heart jumped. Breath caught halfway up her throat. The hairy man had a smug cat-smile. He’d caught his mouse.

Her gut twisted. A setup. She should’ve seen it. Should’ve felt it. No wonder he was unreadable—he wasn’t here to play. He was here for her. Cold flooded her limbs.

What did they know? That she was a cheater? A woman? An alitur?

Or all three?

She relaxed her face into neutrality, but her mind raced. Could she run? No. Not yet. Too many eyes, too close to the table. No one had drawn steel, which meant they still wanted her alive—questioned, not killed. Yet.

“What? You have nothing to say?” the hairy man–Jim–said. He leaned over and took Skye’s tankard of homebrew and downed it. “Cheers.”

Skye didn’t answer. She reached down, slow and measured, and picked her tricorne up off the floor. Her hat was just fabric—but it made her feel armed. Steady. Like herself.

She rose to her feet.

“I don’t know what this guy told you,” Skye gestured towards Jim, “but I didn’t cheat. I haven’t seen him before in my life.” She truly hoped that was the only reason they were confronting her.

The house-muscle behind Skye chuckled, or that was what she assumed the rumbling noise was. 

“We have been watching, and you have an appointment with the gambling guild.”

“No one told me,” Skye said with a shrug.

“I did. Just now.”

Skye looked over her shoulder at the house-muscle looming over her. Tall. Broad shoulders. A scar cut down his right temple, hugging the cheekbone like a crack in old stone. His stance was heavy, but not rooted. A bit off balance. Good.

The short one would be slower, maybe better in a brawl, but easy to outmaneuver. The tall one could be clumsy. The real problem was her coat—it would get in the way if she had to move fast. If she had to fight.

But—

She ran through options. Surrender. Fight. Flee. None was good. She shifted her weight, breath held shallow in her chest.

“Where is this meeting?” Skye asked.

“At the boss’s office, at the pits,” the tall one answered.

Skye scanned the room. No escape. Everyone watched. Waited. Sid had crushed his cards in his hands. Only Jim kept drinking, he found his entertainment for the night.

“I don’t go to the pits,” Skye said. 

The tall one rumbled again from behind, “I don’t care, you are going.”

The room inhaled.

Jim smirked at Skye and lifted his tankard off the table. With a flick and a flash of her hand, a knife plunged into Jim’s eye. 

Gasps. 

The cup fell, and Jim followed. 


BLURB:

How much would you wager to save a dragon? Your safety, your friends, your people? How about your life?

Skye, an alitur—elf as the small-minded humans would degrade her—is a gambler hiding in the skin of her enemy to escape capture, her past and her true identity.

However, her fragile safety shatters when she's caught cheating. Thrown into the corrupt world of gambling, where animals and creatures are pitted against one another for sport, Skye witnesses something she thought long extinct: dragons.

Determined to save and connect with the dragons, Skye is drawn into a web of deceit, loyalty, and love, impelling her to face her past and reclaim her heritage.

With unlikely allies, Skye must confront the soul-devouring priestesses and their ruthless general, One-Eye-Nic, before the last dragons—and her own soul—are lost forever.

This is an enthralling tale of lies, rebellion, and the price of freedom…

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Fran Zuid lives in a village on the outskirts of Cape Town, South Africa, with two dogs and four parrots (her personal dragons, without the fire-breathing part—which is a bonus). If she is not submerged in a creative fantasy world, or playing old games, she is fiddling in her garden, sipping wine at a vineyard or conquering a hiking trail somewhere—that is, if her “dragons” allow it.

Where Dragons Are Captured is her debut novel.

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