RELEASE DAY BLITZ: The Clover Chapel by Devney Perry

We are celebrating a book birthday with this Release Day Blitz for Devney Perry's The Clover Chapel, the second book in the Jamison Valley series! To celebrate, we have a sneak peek into the book with an excerpt... AND, we have a cool blitz-wide giveaway to share with you! Check it out andorder your copy today!

Genre:

New Adult

Contemporary Romance

Series:

Jamison Valley, #2

Publish Date:

May 30, 2017

Synopsis:

She took a dare and fell in love. Truth would have been the smarter choice.

After years of living under her father’s thumb, Emmeline is ready to break free. She’s abandoned her life as a New York socialite to follow her dream of becoming a kindergarten teacher in a small, wholesome town. Seeing the man that nearly broke her was absolutely not what she had hoped to find in Prescott, Montana.

Nick hasn’t seen his Emmy in nine years, but that doesn’t mean he’s forgotten a thing about the woman he loves. After just one blissful night as man and wife, he gave her up, sacrificing his own happiness to keep her safe—far away from him. But the moment she walks back into his lonely life is the moment he decides never to let her go again. He won’t waste his second chance. All he has to do is win back Emmeline’s heart, keep her safe from the shadows in his past and prove to her that taking a wager on him is a sure bet. 

     

*Excerpt*

“What are you doing here?”

“Picking you up for dinner,” he said.

“It’s only three thirty. I prefer to put at least six hours between meals and I ate lunch at noon.”

“I’m not here to take you now, Emmy. But I’m giving you a heads-up that I’ll be back at five thirty. Don’t drive home.”

“You could have texted me all of this,” I said.

“Yeah. But then I wouldn’t have been able to do this.”

He crossed the space between us in a millisecond and captured my mouth, wrapping his arms around my waist. His lips pressed roughly against mine as his tongue swept my lower lip. Over and over he stroked until my mouth fell open. When his tongue found mine, I melted. Heat erupted throughout my body and my knees gave out.

When I started to sink to the floor, he stopped kissing me but tightened his grip on my waist.

“I’ve got you.” A crooked grin formed on his lips.

I took a moment to steady my legs and stand tall before stepping back a foot. The skin around my mouth was surely pink from the contact with his beard. But at least it would match my flushed cheeks.

“Five thirty,” he said and walked out the door.

Shit.

Thinking clearly was not an option after a Nick kiss but I really needed to pull myself together. I’d spent last night tossing and turning, replaying all the things Nick had told me these last few months.

You’ve always had my heart, Emmy.

We’re it for each other.

I thought about you every day for nine years.

And I thought about what my mother had said. That my heart had already forgiven him and I just needed to get my head straight with that concept.

Sinking into my chair, I let my head fall into my hands. “What am I going to do?”

I tried to picture what our life could be like. Me happy. Nick and I living a normal life. But every time that image popped in my head, it was immediately followed by the vision of me waking up alone to a note that said he was sorry.

Time was ticking away and I needed to make some decisions. My attorney had emailed me while I was in Italy to say he’d have my divorce papers drafted by the end of the month. Nick was not going to stop inserting himself into my life unless I made it clear we were over.

Were we over?

For nine years, I’d thought we were. But so much was different now. He was everything that I remembered. Kind. Affectionate. Intelligent.

And stubborn. Every time I tried to push him away, he just pushed back harder. But honestly, I really hadn’t put up much of a fight against his advances.

“Ten seconds ago, you let him stick his tongue down your throat with no fight at all, Emmeline,” I mumbled into my hands.

~~~

Don't miss the first title in the Jamison Valley series!

(cover links to Goodreads)

      

~~~~~

**About the Author**

Devney Perry lives in Montana with her husband and two children. After working in the technology industry for nearly a decade, she abandoned conference calls and project schedules to enjoy a slower pace at home with her kids. She loves reading and, after consuming hundreds of books, decided to share her own stories.

Stay connected with Devney Perry

   

~~~~~

***The Giveaway***

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Release Day Blitz Organized by

BLOG TOUR: The Cajun Doctor by Sandra HIll

We are thrilled to kick off this exciting Blog Tour for Sandra Hill's The Cajun Doctor...brought to you by Avon Romance. This tour will consist of various spotlight/review posts from participating blogs! Our tour stop today will be a spotlight post with an excerpt! Yup! Bestselling author Sandra Hill returns to the Louisiana Bayou, where Tante LuLu (and, of course, Saint Jude) is ready to work some magic on the LeDeux twins! With her hallmark humor, HIll dives right back into the crazy Cajun hijinks readers have come to love and expect of the LeDeux clan. Check it out and grab your copy today!

Happy Book Birthday!!!

Genre:

Adult

Contemporary Romance

Publish Date:

May 30, 2017

Publisher:

Avon Romance
(imprint of HarperCollins)

ISBN:

9780062566362
e-ISBN:
9780062566348

Synopsis:

New York Times Bestselling Author Sandra Hill delivers another Tante Lulu Adventure as twin brothers leave Alaska to discover their Cajun roots

Dr. Daniel LeDeux and pilot Aaron LeDeux travel to the swampy bayous of Louisiana, where they discover a long-lost family. The usually stoic Daniel, a burned-out pediatric oncologist, is especially startled by the interfering LeDeux matriarch, Tante Lulu, bless her crazy heart, who wastes no time in setting him up with local rich girl Samantha Starr.

Scarred by a nasty divorce from a philandering New Orleans physician, Samantha has sworn off men, especially doctors. When Samantha’s step-brother gets into serious trouble, she must ask Daniel for help. But Samantha faces even more trouble when the handsome doctor casts his smoldering Cajun eyes her way.

The steamy heat of the bayou, along with the wacky matchmaking efforts of Tante Lulu, a herd of animal rescue rejects, including a depressed pot belly pig, and some world-class sexual fantasies create enough heat and humor to make both Daniel and Samantha realize that love and laughter can mend even the most broken heart.

      

*Excerpt*

She smiled at him as he stood to follow her. There were no longer any tears in her eyes. Forget about sparkling emeralds, he decided then. Her eyes were murky green pools designed to lure a guy in and make him do things he didn’t even know he wanted to do. And he was the dumb trout who’d taken her bait. Hooked, lined and hot damn sinkered!

It was probably some Southern voodoo kind of crap. Maybe he should ask Tante Lulu for a spell to ward off Samantha’s allure. He could only imagine the old bat’s reaction. She’d be calling for a fais do do, a party down on the bayou, and the theme would be, “Daniel LeDeux Ain’t Gay, hallelejuah!”

But then he watched Samantha’s buttocks move in the red silky pants as she walked out of the room. Was there anything prettier than a heart-shaped ass on a woman? And he decided, maybe not. And those long limbs . . . man, what a creative male could do with those!

Hot damn hell! He decided he could live with the spell or whatever the hell it was, thank you very much!

Any lewd thoughts he might have been entertaining were interrupted abruptly by a loud pounding on the front door. They looked at each other in question.

He arched his brows.

She shrugged.

The dog halted in its tracks toward the kitchen.

The cougar cat stopped mid stretch.

The pig raised its head and sniffed the air.

Then they all erupted with their respective sounds of alert. Barking, growling, meowing, and oinking. A female squeak of dismay, as in, “Oh, Rhett, the Yankees are comin’!” A male grunt of disgust, as in “What next?” All of which alerted the bird to voice its opinion, and the puppies and other cats to join in the chorus.

More pounding on the door.

“Let’s just ignore it,” she whispered.

The German Shepherd let loose with a wild howl that could probably be heard a block away, definitely through a measly door. Then the old dog lay down on the floor, its muzzle between its front paws, all tired out from the effort.

“I doubt whoever is there will just go away. Let me handle it,” he offered, also in a whisper. I gotta get my Rhett on once in a while, he joked with himself. Then, he added, “Do you have a gun?”

“No. Damn, I knew I should have bought a gun. Just this evening I decided to ask Tante Lulu if she had an extra one. But I didn’t have a chance to call her yet.”

He gave her a glance of surprise; he hadn’t been serious.

That’s all he . . . she . . . needed. Southern belle with a pistol. She’d probably shoot her eye out. At the least, everyone up and down the bayou would know about it, thanks to the Mouth of the South.

Daniel was beginning to feel like Alice in Wonderland . . . or rather, Alex in Wonderland . . . and he’d fallen down some crazy-ass Southern rabbit hole. Forget Scarlett O’Hara. His Alice would be wearing some silky red short shorts. And high heels. And nothing on top. And “Pretty Woman” would be playing in the background.

He could hear Aaron laughing in his head. Twins were like that sometimes. They shared long-distance thoughts and feelings. In fact, some scientists claimed that even during sex . . . well, never mind! Suffice it to say, it gave new meaning to multiple orgasms.

To the Aaron in his head, Daniel said, Hey, it’s my fantasy. If I want bimbo Alice, I get bimbo Alice.

More Aaron laughter.

Daniel and Samantha walked softly toward the front door where Samantha peeked through the security hole and declared in a whisper, “I think it’s the mafia.”

“How can you tell?”

“Well, it’s not Nick. And there are two of them. And they look . . . mafia-ish.”

He pushed her aside to look for himself. What he saw was two men, their faces distorted through the fisheye lens in the peephole. They were scowling with impatience at their knocking not being answered. Definitely not Welcome Wagon, or Jehovah’s Witnesses, or a passing traveler in need of directions. No Gone with the Wind Yankees, either. The short one wore a tight “Sleep With the Fishes, Motherfucker” T-shirt over a muscular chest and bulging biceps; there were tattoos on his neck and forearms. The other dude . . . taller, but equally muscular. . . wore a T-shirt with the logo “Pit Bulls Rule” under an open denim shirt. There was a livid scar on his cheek that lifted one side of his mouth in a perpetual grin. The Mutt and Jeff of creeps!

Daniel could swear he saw the shine of a pistol under the denim shirt. He amended his assessment to “the Mutt and Jeff of dangerous creeps.”

Okay, definitely mafia-ish.

“Samantha Starr! You in dere, chère. We doan want no trouble here. Jist open the door, yes.” This from Mutt, the short one.

Okay, definitely Dixie Mafia-ish.

“Call 911,” Daniel advised Samantha.

She shook her head.

Daniel wasn’t convinced that her way was the best way, but there was no time to argue. He kicked off his shoes, toed off his socks, and used both hands to mess up his hair. He tugged out his T-shirt that had been tucked inside the waistband of his jeans. As an added touch, he undid the button on the fly of his pants and zipped down halfway.

“What are you doing?” she asked in an undertone.

“Pretending I was in bed.”

“Why would you be . . . oh!” Her cheeks bloomed with color.

He put a forefinger to his lips, signaling silence, then put the security chain on the door and opened it several inches. “Yeah? What do you guys want?” he snarled at the two figures on the doorstep.

Surprised, they backed up a step. They had to have seen him enter a short time ago, but apparently they hadn’t been expecting a man to answer the door, or him in particular, as evidenced by Mutt’s remark, “You ain’t Angus Starr.”

“No shit, Dick Tracey,” Daniel countered, starting to close the door.

But the taller, scar-faced dude, Jeff, stuck his booted foot into the opening. “Wait a fuckin’ minute. Where’s Samantha Starr? Bet she knows where that stupid-ass brother of hers is, guar-an-teed.”

“Angus isn’t her brother, exactly,” Daniel commented, as if that mattered. “He’s actually the son of one of her father’s—”

Scar-face made a growling noise.

“Why do you want Angus anyway?”

“None of yer damn bizness, you!” Mutt said, putting his hand inside his pants pocket, as if reaching for a weapon.

“Hold on. I’ll go get her,” Daniel said.

Stepping behind the door, he acted quickly. Messing Samantha’s hair into a sexy mess, he pressed her up against the wall and, before she could yell or kick him in the nuts, he leaned down to kiss her, hard and deep, even nipping at her bottom lip so that she would open for him.

Then he forgot why he’d made a move on her.

~~~

What Others Are Saying
"Sandra Hill will have readers laughing -- and crying! -- through the bayous of her latest Cajun novel. Thanks to her witty metaphor-galore dialogue, eclectic characters and massive pet menagerie, she'll have her audience craving sweet tea and a trip to the south in not time. The caring, pediatric oncologist hero and a wary socialite heroine are a delight to watch fall in love, and their bedroom antics are the icing on this Louisiana cake." ~ RT Book Reviews, 4-star review

~~~~~

**About the Author**

Sandra Hill is a graduate of Penn State and worked for more than 10 years as a features writer and education editor for publications in New Jersey and Pennsylvania. Writing about serious issues taught her the merits of seeking the lighter side of even the darkest stories. She is the wife of a stockbroker and the mother of four sons.

Stay connected with Sandra Hill

   

Praise for Sandra Hill

"...side-splitting dialogue and hotter-then-Cajun-spice erotica"

—Publishers Weekly

"...will tickle (your) funny bones yet again as (Sandra) writes in her trademark sexy style, the perfect accompaniment to a hot Cajun setting."

—Booklist

"Sandra Hill always delivers a fabulous read whether it's Cajuns or Vikings.  She is one of my favorite authors. She can just keep writing for as long as I can keep reading!"

—The Best Reviews

"The next time I'm in need of some belly laughs, I'll be searching out Ms. Hill's books."

—The Romance Reader

"When you are feeling down or just need a fun escape, go out and buy a Sandra Hill book.  I promise, she is "gar-ron-teed' to deliver. Simply put--Sandra Hill is...simply Hill-arious."

—A Romance Review

~~~~~

Follow the Tour

May 30th

The Book Referees

3 Partners in Shopping, Nana, Mommy, &, Sissy, Too!

A Sky Filled with Sparkling Stars

Movies, Shows, & Books

The Sassy Bookster

A Taste of Sin

May 31st

Book Lover in Florida

June 1st

The Avid Book Collector

Crazy Beautiful Reviews

June 2nd

Booklovers For Life

Read-Love-Blog

June 3rd

Read Your Writes Book Reviews

A Bluestocking's Place

June 4th

Becky on Books

Those Crazy Book Chicks

E-Romance News

June 5th

Ellesea Loves Reading

OMGReads

To Read, or Not To Read

June 7th

Broadway World Books

Deluged with Books Café

June 8th

What the Cat Read

Rambling Reads

June 9th

The Crafty Engineer's Bookshelf

Reviews by Crystal

June 10th

Crystal Blogs Books

Eskimo Princess Book Reviews

June 13th

Teatime and Books

June 14th

The Bookworm Lodge

June 16th

A Leisure Moment

Blog Tour Organized by

BLOG TOUR: Night Magic by Jenna Black

Welcome to the Official Blog Tour for Jenna Black's Night Magic, Book Two in the Nightstruck series! The will consist of excerpts, reviews, and other fun posts! Our stop will be of an exciting sneak peek into the book with a cool Chapter excerpt! Of course, we also have a tour-wide giveaway to share with you, too! Check it out and grab your copy today!

Follow the tour, HERE!

Genre:

Young Adult

Paranormal/Fantasy Romance

Horror Fantasy

Series:

Nightstruck, #2

Publish Date:

May 30, 2017

Publisher:

Tor Teen

Synopsis:

Jenna Black returns to the quarantined city of Philadelphia, where an unsuspecting seventeen-year-old has unknowingly unleashed a dark power that transforms the city into a monstrous hellscape in Night Magic.

Philadelphia is locked in the grip of an evil magic that transforms its streets into a nightmare landscape the minute the sun sets each night. While most of the city hunkers down and hopes to survive the long winter nights, Becket Walker is roaming the darkened streets having the time of her life.

Once, the guilt of having inadvertently let the night magic into the city―and of having killed her onetime best friend―had threatened to destroy her. But now she’s been Nightstruck, and all her grief and guilt and terror have been swept away―along with her conscience. So what if she’s lost her friends, her family, and her home? And so what if her hot new boyfriend is super-controlling and downright malevolent?

Mesmerized by the power and freedom of not having to care about anyone but herself, Becket is sinking ever deeper into the night magic’s grasp. But those who love her refuse to give up on her―even if she’s given up on them. If they can’t find a way to help Becket break the night magic’s hold, the entire city might soon find itself shrouded in perpetual night. But the last thing Becket wants is to be “rescued” from her brand new life, and she will fight tooth and claw to stay exactly where she is.

       

*Excerpt*

Chapter One

I was trapped in a quarantined city that went foaming- at- the- mouth crazy every night. My house was trashed so badly it was unlivable. My father was dead. I’d shot and killed my best friend.
         And I was having the best time of my life.
         I walked down the streets of Center City, Philadelphia, on a beautifully brisk winter night hand in hand with the hottest guy I’d ever seen and couldn’t stop smiling.
         Aleric grinned at me, his green eyes glittering in the darkness. The power was on— you could tell from the lighted windows all around— but the streetlamps turned into gallows every night, so the city  didn’t have the ambient glow I was used to. I loved the air of intimacy the darkness added.
         “Are you wondering now why you resisted for so long?” Aleric asked.
         “Stop being so smug” I punched him in the arm with my free hand. He laughed, letting go of my hand and putting his arm around my shoulders. I slipped my own arm around his waist, sidling closer  until our hips  were touching and we  were forced to time our steps to each other. I rested my cheek against the buttery soft leather of his jacket, inhaling its delicious scent.
         Just yesterday, I’d been almost suicidally miserable. I’d blamed myself for the darkness that had descended on the city, for all the deaths that darkness had brought, for all the suffering. I’d even blamed myself for the death of my father, though with my new, clearer viewpoint it was hard to remember why. Any idiot could see that it wasn’t my fault. Well, any idiot except the non- Nightstruck me, that is.
         I’d slipped away during the night intending to kill Piper, but I never really expected to succeed. I wasn’t depressed enough to take my own life, but I’d been in a bad-enough state that taking a suicidal risk had seemed like a good idea.  Piper and Aleric had known that, had counted on it to lure me out into the night.
         In the end, it had all been a giant trick, designed to weaken my psyche and make me susceptible to the lure of becoming Nightstruck. Turns out all it takes to become Nightstruck is to be outside during the Transition from night to day. If you’re weak and vulnerable, the lure of the night magic will call to you and you’ll be swept away to . . .  well, wherever the Nightstruck dis appeared to during the day. Even being Nightstruck myself, I wasn’t sure I understood exactly what happened to us when daylight hit.
         I’d desperately tried to avoid becoming Nightstruck, tried to get inside before the dawn Transition occurred, but I hadn’t made it.
         Thank God! It was hard to imagine why I’d fought something so wonderful. All that pain and guilt and grief . . .  Gone, in the blink of an eye.
         I rubbed my cheek against Aleric’s leather jacket again, enjoying the de cadent texture. Then I looked down at myself and frowned. I was wearing the same clothes I’d worn yesterday, obviously. I couldn’t go back to my house and get a change of clothes, seeing as Piper and her Nightstruck friends had destroyed everything I owned. It was too cold for me to be terribly rank yet, but I still felt kind of scuzzy. Not to mention that my nice warm puffer coat was hideously ugly, made even more so in contrast to Aleric’s gorgeous black leather jacket.
         “I need some new clothes,” I said, then frowned. “But I can’t exactly go shopping, can I?” Aside from the fact that I had no money, all the city’s stores were closed and locked up tight by sunset.
         Aleric snorted. “You’ll never have to shop again. Anything you want is yours for the taking.”
         “Well yeah, I know, but all the stores are closed, and the ones that didn’t have good security have been stripped bare by now.” When the city had first gone mad, packs of the Nightstruck had roamed around breaking into stores and houses willy- nilly. Those without good enough security measures had long since been picked clean, and the rest were virtual fortresses at night.
         Aleric shrugged. “That may be a problem for the more run-of the-mill Nightstruck, but you’re different. I’m the king of this city and you are my queen.”
         He whistled loudly. A group of Nightstruck who’d been hanging out on someone’s front stoop passing around a bottle of booze snapped to attention at the sound, then hurried to gather around us when Aleric beckoned with his  free hand. The Nightstruck stared at him attentively, like a pack of devoted dogs, but he didn’t speak. I gave him a quizzical look, but he just winked at me.
         We must have stood there for like five minutes, the Nightstruck never taking their green eyes off Aleric, never speaking, barely even twitching. He was the center of their universe, and I had the vague sense that the old me would have been completely creeped out by the way they were looking at him.
         “What are we waiting for?” I finally couldn’t help asking. The temperature was dropping, and warm though my ugly puffer coat might be, I was starting to shiver.     
         “Patience, Becket,” Aleric said with another of his smug smiles.
         “I’m Nightstruck, idiot,” I told him. “Patience is not one of my virtues.” It felt just a little strange to talk to this virtual stranger, this guy I’d once considered my enemy, as if we  were the best of friends. The old me had always been shy and tongue- tied, carefully thinking about every word that left my mouth. All that had changed and I felt absolutely no discomfort about calling this power ful, dangerous person an idiot.
         Aleric seemed more amused by my rudeness than irritated, and a moment later I heard the metallic clang of something approaching. Something four- footed, by the sound of it.
         Most of the city’s statues came to life at night, transformed from their daylight selves into nightmare constructs that would happily prey on any non- Nightstruck person who dared set foot outside. I figured that since we were only a few blocks away from Ritten house Square, the approaching footsteps came from one of  those statues, and it turned out I was right.
         I’d had some nasty run- ins with Billy, the bronze goat statue from the square, but what turned the corner now was about ten times more terrifying. I was pretty sure that during the day, it was a snarling lion that was as dangerous- looking as Billy was harmless, but the night had given it a serious make over. Its mane consisted of a mass of writhing, hissing metal snakes, and its tail had turned into a scorpion- like stinger. And as if that wasn’t bad enough, it also had a set of finger- sized mandibles that looked very much like a spider’s. Being Nightstruck, I was supposedly immune to the terror of the city’s constructs, but this one gave me a serious case of the shivers.
         The mutant lion sauntered right up to Aleric, the other Nightstruck moving quickly aside to let it by. Guess I wasn’t the only one who thought the creature was scary. Aleric, however, reached out to pet the damn thing’s head, heedless of the snakes and the constantly moving mandibles. I shuddered and slipped out from under Aleric’s arm when the lion made a low thrumming sound that I supposed was a purr and butted its head— very gently— against his chest.
         “Leo here would be happy to take us shopping,” Aleric said.
“Wouldn’t you, Leo?”
         Leo made a whuff of what was prob ably agreement. Aleric reached for my hand, but I shied away. I’m not one of  those girls who runs screaming at the very thought of a snake, but I had no interest in getting closer to that writhing, hissing mass on Leo’s head, and the spider jaws made my stomach turn.
         Aleric laughed at me but made a little shooing motion with his hand. “Back off and give us a little room.  There’s a good kitty.”
         Leo stepped back by maybe about ten inches. He was still way closer than I liked, but I  didn’t want Aleric thinking I was a wuss, and I knew that the construct  wouldn’t hurt me. I gritted my teeth and stepped forward to take Aleric’s hand. One of the snakes in Leo’s mane lunged at me. I squeaked and tried to jump back, but Aleric held me fast and the snake’s fangs snapped together about six inches from my nose.
         “Relax, Becks,” Aleric said. “He’s just playing with you.”
         Playing. Right.
         I was more relieved than I could say when Aleric gave my hand a  little tug and we started walking down the street again. The Nightstruck fell in behind us like an untidy army, and Leo walked beside us, his metal claws clanking against the pavement with each step.
         Our little parade made its way over to Walnut Street, one of the more fashion able shopping areas of the city. Many of the windows were boarded up, the stores having been early victims to the marauding Nightstruck before anyone knew they needed extra protection. The rest were covered by metal doors or grilles. At least, I’m sure they  were metal doors or grilles during the day. At night, they looked like age- yellowed bones or rocklike scales or swarms of small metal bugs. Unlike most of the changes that took place during the night,  these  were actually semi- helpful, making the stores even harder to get into than they would be if the window coverings  were mere grilles.
         The first store Aleric stopped in front of was a small boutique that sold ridiculous fur and leather goods, the kind of place where you could buy a pair of mittens for twenty- five hundred dollars. In other words, a store I had never set foot in and had never really aspired to set foot in. It looked even less inviting now, thanks to what had once been a set of bars but had become frothy tentacles reminiscent of a giant jellyfish.
         “How about we start here?” Aleric suggested, gesturing to his little army.
         Like obedient and highly stupid zombies, the Nightstruck waded in, grabbing handfuls of tentacles and tugging them aside. Ordinarily, the constructs ignored the Nightstruck as if they didn’t exist, but apparently these tentacles  didn’t appreciate being  under attack. The Nightstruck screamed as the tentacles wrapped around them and started squeezing. Some seemed to have sharp edges that drew blood, and some seemed to crush bones with the force of their grip.
         The tentacles were so busy crushing the life out of the Nightstruck that they left an opening through which we could see the store’s front window. Leo squeezed himself into that opening. One of the Nightstruck freed an arm and tried to grab hold of Leo’s mane, screaming for help. Leo casually turned his head and bit the poor guy’s hand off, the spider jaws eagerly shoving that hand down his gullet as blood fountained and the screams reached a new height.
         I watched all this happen with a kind of appalled fascination. These people were dying for me, screaming in fear and pain. I thought it was kind of a waste— surely there would have been some other way to get inside without getting people killed— but I didn’t feel particularly bad about it. I certainly didn’t feel any need to try to help them. If they were so blind stupid that they walked into a mass of killer tentacles just because Aleric told them to, then it was their own damn fault they were dying.
         It was an interesting feeling, watching those people die and not being overcome with horror and guilt. I wasn’t completely unmoved by their deaths, and I would have saved them if I could. At least, I’m pretty sure I would have. But it was obviously pointless to try, because if all of them weren’t enough to take on the tentacles, what the heck could I do? And realizing I couldn’t help but could only get myself hurt made it surprisingly easy to just stand there and watch.
         “You didn’t have to kill anyone to prove your point,” I told Aleric as Leo head- butted the front window and shattered the glass.
         “But how else could I prove that I would kill for you?”
         I had no answer for that. Aleric gestured for me to go through the hole Leo had created in the window, and I saw no reason not to do so. The hole was big enough that I didn’t even have to worry about being sliced by stray shards. The floor crunched beneath my feet. The Nightstruck  weren’t screaming anymore.
         I expected Aleric to follow, but he remained standing on the sidewalk, looking in at me through the broken glass.
         “Aren’t you coming?” I asked.
         He gave me a lopsided smile and raised his eyebrows. It took me a moment to remember that he was more like the constructs than like the Nightstruck. The Nightstruck  were  human—at least something very like  human— but Aleric and the constructs were creatures created by magic, and for whatever reason, they couldn’t seem to enter buildings.
         I turned away and groped at the wall until I found a light switch. I flicked it on and found I was standing next to a mannequin that was wearing a black knee- length mink coat. I reached out to stroke the sleeve, and it was possibly the softest thing I’d ever touched. Without meaning to, I sank my fingers into the fur, luxuriating in the feel of it.   

         Even if I could have afforded it, I would never have chosen to wear a fur coat of any kind before I’d been Nightstruck. I recoiled every time I saw a human being wearing fur, overcome with pity for all the animals who had died to make said human being feel important. I wondered how many cute little weasels had been slaughtered for the sake of this coat, but I realized it didn’t matter. They were already dead, and me refusing to touch a coat made of their pelts wouldn’t bring them back.
         “Try it on,” Aleric suggested.
         I hesitated. It was one thing to pet and admire the coat, another to actually put it on. “It’s a little much, don’t you think?”
         Aleric rolled his eyes. “That’s your old self talking. You can have whatever you want. If you want a mink coat, take a mink coat. If you’d like to wear evening gowns every night, be my guest. You make the rules.”
         I bit my lip and shivered. My parents were such sticklers they wouldn’t even buy me a crappy used car because they thought it would spoil me. The thought of just taking what I wanted—no working for it, no begging my parents, no disapproving looks— was so intoxicating I felt almost dizzy with it.
         “At least try it on,” Aleric urged. “See how it feels.”
         “I guess there’s no harm in that,” I muttered under my breath. I stripped off my puffer coat, dropping it to the floor, then carefully slid the mink off the mannequin’s shoulders and put it on.
         “Oh my God,” I moaned as I clutched the lapels closed then tied the belt. The coat was like a mink bathrobe, and aside from being so wonderfully soft, it was about ten times warmer than what I’d been wearing. It also weighed about ten times as much, but that was a price I was more than willing to pay.
         Thinking of price, I checked the tag that was attached to the belt— and almost choked on my own tongue.
         “This thing costs almost nineteen thousand dollars!” I screeched. My mind could barely encompass the idea of wearing something that cost more than some brand new cars.
         Aleric gestured for me to come closer, and I did. He reached out like he wanted to touch the fur, and I leaned forward through the broken window so his hand didn’t have to cross the threshold to touch me. But instead of admiring the coat, he yanked off the price tag and smiled at me. “To night, for you, it’s free.”
         I laughed with pure delight as I realized he was right, then hurried back into the store to a full- length mirror to get a good look at myself.
         I let out an involuntary gasp when I saw a pair of bright green eyes staring out of my face. It shouldn’t have surprised me. All the Nightstruck had unnaturally green eyes. But the face I saw in that mirror was not the one I thought of as mine.
         I told myself to pretend I was wearing green contacts and shook off the strangeness. The coat looked absolutely fabulous, like it was made for me. The rest of me, though . . .  
         I tugged off the knit hat I had pulled down over my ears and searched the store  until I found a white chinchilla hat that was so soft it almost made the coat feel scratchy. The white hat looked a bit weird with the black coat, but I loved it too much to resist it. It wasn’t like Aleric or the Nightstruck  were  going to look down on me for my poor fashion sense.
         A little more shopping and I found the perfect pair of shearling boots to keep my feet warm during the long winter night. I was by now sweltering inside the store— the heater was doing its best to  counter the arctic blast coming through the front window— but I  wasn’t about to take my wonderful new furs off. I looked at myself in the mirror one more time and frowned at the cheap skinny jeans that peeked out between the hem of the coat and the tops of the boots.
         “I need new jeans,” I declared. “Something with a little pizazz. And doesn’t come from someplace like Target.”
         “I can make that happen for you,” Aleric said.
         I had no doubt he could.

~~~

Praise for Night Magic

"Suspenseful and savage -- Jenna Black does horror right!" ~ Kimberly Derting, author of the Body Finder series

"Effectively blending grisly horror, teenage dilemmas, and a touch of romance, Black has built a genuinely scary city where the night literally has teeth." ~ Publishers Weekly

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Sequel to:

(cover links to Goodreads)

       

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**About the Author**

Jenna Black is your typical writer. Which means she's an "experience junkie." She got her BA in physical anthropology and French from Duke University.

Once upon a time, she dreamed she would be the next Jane Goodall, camping in the bush making fabulous discoveries about primate behavior. Then, during her senior year at Duke, she did some actual research in the field and made this shocking discovery: primates spend something like 80% of their time doing such exciting things as sleeping and eating.

Concluding that this discovery was her life's work in the field of primatology, she then moved on to such varied pastimes as grooming dogs and writing technical documentation. Among her other experiences . . .

Ballroom dancing.

Traveling all seven continents. Yes, even Antarctica.

Becoming a Life Master in Bridge.

Singing in a barbershop chorus.

Read the true story of Jenna's first trip out of the country by herself at the age of 16: Jenna's Zaire Adventure. And remember, insanity is a good thing for a writer.

She's also a proud member of the Heart of Carolina Romance Writers, and would love for her readers to support her fellow authors!

Stay connected with Jenna Black

   

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