Supernatural Secret Service agents Owen Sharps and Calvin Springfield meet on the train to their new assignment in St. Louis, and sparks fly between them. But it's 1897, and they need to be very careful—falling in love can be dangerous for men like them.
It's their first case together, investigating mysterious disappearances—including the two agents who preceded them. Grim evidence leads them to look for a darker purpose. Old ghosts haunt the railroad line, zombie rise, signs point to ritual sacrifice, and they suspect someone is trying to open the gates of hell.
Can Calvin and Owen stop the mayhem, thwart the vampires, and find true love, or will everything go up in smoke?
Peacemaker is a high-stakes steampunk MM romance thrill ride filled with found family, paranormal Pinkertons, intrepid reporters, mysterious disappearances, nefarious land brokers, hellhounds, zombies, vengeful spirits, dark spells, absinthe magic, a ruthless vampire railroad baron and a love that won't be denied.
Before Colt and Winchester, there was Sharps & Springfield!
Excerpt
September 1897
Chapter 1
Owen
Owen Sharps chuckled as he read his book on the train to St. Louis. He had been waiting to get a copy of Dracula, the sensational new book from England, and had found one in a New Pittsburgh bookstore before heading to the station.
It’s got flair, and I like how splashy Van Helsing is, but it’s obvious Stoker never fought a real vampire.
Owen had heard about the book and its growing reputation for being frightening and violent. So far nothing he’s written compares to being covered in blood in an ice-cold cemetery at midnight, hammering a stake through a vampire’s heart, and trying not to get bitten. Then again, maybe I have a skewed perspective.
“Pardon me, is this seat taken?” A drop-dead gorgeous man waited for an answer. He had raven black hair, bright blue eyes, and plush lips that filled Owen with impure thoughts. The stranger carried a suitcase and an overcoat, with a newspaper folded under his arm. Owen took one look and would have booted his granny to the cargo car to free up the seat for the man.
“It’s all yours.” Owen gave a dismissive wave, tearing his gaze away so he’d quit staring. It wouldn’t do to drool.
“I think this might be the last open seat on the train.” The man stowed his suitcase and coat, settling in across from Owen with his newspaper.
Owen couldn’t help giving him the once-over. He figured the man to be slightly shorter than his own six-foot-two inches, and from the cut of his suit jacket, he had a trim, muscular build. Owen made a mental note to be sure to get a glimpse of what was likely a prime ass when they left the train.
“Where are you headed?” Owen thought that a little conversation couldn’t hurt. He wanted to remember the man’s voice to go with his image on nights when he sought relief alone with his hand. This fellow would never know he’d been promoted to the lead in Owen’s secret fantasies. Owen particularly liked the contrast between the man’s dark hair and athletic body to his own rangy build, blond hair, fair skin, and green eyes.
“St. Louis.” The man returned Owen’s scrutiny with an assessing gaze.
Owen sat up a bit straighter, oddly wanting to make a good impression on this person he was unlikely to see again. He felt the weight of the man’s inspection, which made him wonder. Is he a cop? Private investigator? Or maybe...like me?
They were both dressed equally well in suits that were department store quality but not bespoke. The stranger’s hair was fairly short but more fashionable than military, and he was clean-shaven. Owen wondered what a hint of dark stubble might do to heighten those high cheekbones and accentuate the impossibly blue eyes, and he felt himself chub in his pants.
None of that, he admonished silently. It wouldn’t do to raise suspicion. He probably just wants to make sure I’m not the sort to steal his suitcase when he’s not looking.
“I’m headed there myself,” Owen said. “Business or pleasure?”
The man looked amused at the question but not annoyed, which boded well. “Business. You?”
Owen nodded, surprised that he wanted to continue the conversa- tion instead of returning to his book. “The same. I’ve heard the food there is good, but I doubt I’ll have time to do any exploring.” He found himself at ease with the stranger. “Will you be staying in the city, or going on from there?”
“I’ll meet with my boss, but I spend most of my time traveling,” the fellow replied. “I don’t get to stay long in any one place.”
So we have that in common too. Makes it unlikely that we might meet up again the next time I come back to St. Louis. “Me, too. I’m a bit of a rolling stone.”
About the Author
Morgan Brice is the romance pen name of bestselling author Gail Z. Martin. Morgan writes urban fantasy male/male paranormal romance, with plenty of action, adventure and supernatural thrills to go with the happily ever after. Gail writes epic fantasy and urban fantasy, and together with co-author hubby Larry N. Martin, steampunk and comedic horror, all of which have less romance, more explosions. Characters from her Gail books make frequent appearances in secondary roles in her Morgan books, and vice versa.
On the rare occasions Morgan isn’t writing, she’s either reading, cooking, or spoiling two very pampered dogs.
Series include Witchbane, Badlands, Treasure Trail, Kings of the Mountain and Fox Hollow. Watch for more in these series, plus new series coming soon!
Separate Development is a work of fiction inspired by real events. Many names, places and timelines have been altered to provide anonymity to third parties. Character names do not reflect anyone, living or deceased, whom I have ever known. However, I would like to thank the real-life members of the family portrayed in this book for being part of my life, and for their understanding and acceptance. I recognise that their memories of the events described in the novel may be different from my own. There was never any intention to misrepresent anyone; in fact, I am honoured to have known them.
Blurb
At twenty-five, recently qualified Dr Jonathan Conner leaves his comfortable life and love in London, taking up a charitable post during the last months of South Africa's apartheid system. Weeks from a planned visit by his long-standing girlfriend, he falls in love with a young African man in the northern homeland of Venda.
Their passionate, heart-rending love story unfolds against the backdrop of conflict between social tolerances that lag behind political freedoms. Returning to England after eight years, he’s forced to confront the consequences of his decisions for those left behind in two very different worlds.
Through this story of love's endurance beyond society's acceptance and geographical separation, can the enduring power of the human heart overcome adversity?
Excerpt
The stark beauty of Venda’s voluptuous landscape could have replaced many an artist’s requirement for naked models of either sex. Rounded hills, writhing between cleaved valleys, yearned for lustful hands to caress their contours in pleasurable embraces. Admittedly, on that solemn day, it was not a mental image to dwell on. But I was to make the journey more than once.
The last twenty miles were dirt, dust dry, following the undulating curvature of parched hillsides. Rain was a distant memory, the last breath of summer’s bounty, yet portions of verdant green interspersed the struggling rampant growth of a forgotten season. Soon the skies would fill again with heat born clouds, storage towers of sustenance, destined to release daily torrents. Today, the brightest greens picked out pockets of humanity, cultivated patches and plots, tall stands of maize, fringed with bananas and peppered with papayas. Water was available for those who worked hard enough to find it, and the rich African soil rewarded those who took the trouble. These oases were increasing in frequency, many still surrounded by round, thatched, mud-wall huts or rondavels, some supplemented by larger rectangular versions, roofs still often traditional but occasionally replaced by bright or rusty zinc. Tracks worn by years of footfall fed the settlements. Vehicular access was rare, but where it existed, the residences built of brick, though often rendered: similar modern bungalows to mine.
As the frequency of dwellings increased, so did the appearance of structures clearly having other functions. Eventually we reached a broad flat plane. Gone were the patches of green, and in their place, the straggling thorn bushes — which conquered any area where humanity didn’t — had grown to tall spreading trees; all were bare of leaf, yet in the seasons of rain, broad panoplies of shade would provide protection from Capricorn’s sun. The space, ringed with buildings of a relatively modern construction, had occasional notices of printed or hand painted letters attached. Enclosing one side of the quadrangle stood a long dormitory style block of rough plastered walls, patched and peeling paint representing the faded choices of many years, or perhaps revealing the use of colours kindly donated at the time. Windows, placed only a few inches below the rusty corrugated overhang of the roof, in some sections without frame or glass, allowed light yet probably deterred its occupants from external distraction. Three well-worn steps led to broad double doors, also reflecting the indecision or availability of bygone supplies of colour. Only the signage appeared to have received regular maintenance. Bold black lettering, written with skilled hands on a fresh blue base, told me Sarah’s directions had led me to park in front of Ha-nthabalala Secondary School, Established 1972. Headmaster: Mr Joseph Ramanala. The name had a slightly deeper blue background, suggesting it represented the most recent promotion to the post.
About the Author
David Blyth was born in Staffordshire, in the UK. He graduated from Nottingham and Wolverhampton Universities with a BSC.hon and a PGCE. He lived for many years in South Africa, where he witnessed the political and social transformation during and after apartheid.
His interests, apart from writing, include anything that helps him to stay relatively sane.
Separate Development, which is in fact, his second novel, was written at his home in the English Midlands. It is due to be published in the spring of 2023.
His first novel, The Scars of Life, was written during a two-year overland exploration of southern, central and east Africa. Much was achieved sitting under the shade of a huge mango tree on the shores of Lake Malawi, always with a beer near at hand. It will be published during the summer of 2023.
Cold cases, hot leads, a psychic psychopath, a copycat killer, cursed objects, the trial of the century—and wedding plans.
Blurb
Cold cases, hot leads, a psychic psychopath, a copycat killer, cursed objects, the trial of the century—and wedding plans.
Psychic medium Simon Kincaide and sexy homicide detective Vic D'Amato met hunting a supernatural serial killer. Since then, Simon has become a police consultant on cases involving the paranormal, and Vic has gotten over his doubts about Simon's abilities being real. Along the way, they fell in love and got engaged. But it seems like the danger never ends.
Now, the first case Simon and Vic worked together comes back to haunt them as the killer goes to court and all hell breaks loose. The killer has a crazy fan setting curses on key players in the upcoming trial. Ghosts from an old cold case suggest that someone got away with murder. And a supernatural creature attracted to fear and death is using the Grand Strand as its feeding ground. Simon and Vic feel like they're waging a war on all fronts, but with the stakes so high, there can be No Surrender!
About the Author
Morgan Brice is the romance pen name of bestselling author Gail Z. Martin. Morgan writes urban fantasy male/male paranormal romance, with plenty of action, adventure and supernatural thrills to go with the happily ever after. Gail writes epic fantasy and urban fantasy, and together with co-author hubby Larry N. Martin, steampunk and comedic horror, all of which have less romance, more explosions. Characters from her Gail books make frequent appearances in secondary roles in her Morgan books, and vice versa.
On the rare occasions Morgan isn’t writing, she’s either reading, cooking, or spoiling two very pampered dogs.
Series include Witchbane, Badlands, Treasure Trail, Kings of the Mountain and Fox Hollow. Watch for more in these series, plus new series coming soon!
Talented Serafino is apprenticed to Mastro Filargiro, one of the city's leading artists.
Serafino finds love, but his mastery takes him on a perilous journey across Italy's feuding city-states, unaware that his virtuosity is a threat to the pre-eminence of the hitherto unchallenged masters of the Renaissance.
His life must take a dramatic new turn in the hope of escaping their enmity.
Washington DC, 2008.
Parker’s first year at Georgetown High is coming to an end.
His father is appointed Consul General in Florence. Parker enthusiastically embraces his new life and befriends handsome Beppe.
But almost everyone around him has been keeping secrets. And the fifteenth-century palazzo where his family now lives unexpectedly reveals its long-buried mysteries.
Separated by five hundred years, yet united by their talent, Serafino and Parker embark on similar journeys of discovery while fellow artists, assassins, princes and envious classmates rage and scheme around them.
Excerpt
He hears the final bell. The school erupts, classroom doors slam open barely holding on to their hinges, the metallic noise of lockers being opened and shut again is deafening.
Summer break is here. A torrent of students regurgitates into the street causing an almighty traffic jam. SUVs with mothers or nannies at the wheel vie for space, right of way, and ultimately a not-too-subtle parade of the best four wheels in Georgetown.
This is no cheap suburbia, most of their husbands or employers are toiling at some desk or chairing important meetings at Foggy Bottom, on Capitol Hill or the White House. Most often all three.
Parker walks out of the front door with his hands in the tight pockets of his slacks and his rucksack on his shoulders. A few hugs with the girls and some high-fives with fellow boys ensue. His older brother is already waiting at the bike stand. When he gets there the high-five is followed by a manly hug.
‘Dude, summer break and birthday tomorrow. Lucky little bro.’
‘Bet you know what the old folks have got me.’
‘Sure I do.’
They start cycling. When Parker reached the age of fourteen, their parents went out and bought a cheap bike for his growing frame. The Hendersons’ pristine drive sports the standard two SUVs parked neatly by each other, yet their mother wasn’t fond of school runs. In their opinion he was still a bit too young to cycle all the way to school by himself but the city had finally built some decent bike lanes and Tommy was now seventeen so they made them promise to stick together on the journey.
Tommy, who finds cycling by himself rather dull - he’s not much of a loner, any activity has to involve other people - had gone out of his way to promise to look out for his little brother at traffic junctions.
They had also promised never to set off without their helmets, though Tommy had swiftly pointed out to Parker that “setting off” with them was not the same as “wearing them”. Parker, the more academic of the pair, had found the distinction clever though he had laughed while retorting that it was still cheating.
So when they are a couple of blocks away from home they stop, unlock their helmets from their rucksacks’ straps and don them before reaching the driveway. A few times Parker had remarked that one day they might get caught by their mother driving by.
He walks to the garage door to open it but he’s shouted down by Tommy who parades himself in front of it.
‘Off-limits until tomorrow, bro.’
A smiling Parker leaves his bike with his brother and heads for the kitchen door. Tommy has just narrowed down his guesses for his present. One doesn’t need a garage to hide a watch or a pair of trainers.
To his surprise he finds them both at home, sat at the kitchen table with two mugs of coffee in their hands. After kissing his mother on the cheek (Tommy is starting to cringe at that, but Parker still likes it. Tomorrow’s birthday might change that), he meets his father’s closed fist with his; they have gradually stopped hugging.
‘Why are you home?’ Parker’s face frowns in suspicion. ‘You’ve got the day off tomorrow, haven’t you, Dad?’
‘‘No worries. All free tomorrow. Left office early, not much to do at the moment. There might be a few changes in my career; new President, new direction.’
About the Author
Paolo G. Grossi was born and raised in Milan. Thirty years ago he spent a weekend in London and decided to stay. Like most Italians, opera and the visual arts are his main passions. When not writing, you will surely find him attending a performance, visiting a museum and, of course, spending some time cycling in Berlin or around the Wannsee. He lives in London with his partner David.
Blurb Pitch and Sickle have survived enraged fae queens, murderous forest guardians, walking corpses, and ghosts turned monstrous by the Blight. They been tortured by sorcerers and made playthings by enemies who have sided with the Morrigan. The ankou and his daemon prince have been forced to confront awful secrets from their pasts. Both have made terrible sacrifices to keep the other safe. And would willingly do much more to protect the unimaginable bond that has grown between them.
In the midst of the chaos and carnage a deadman and a daemon have found each other.
Now, Prince Vassago will need his Pale Horseman more than ever before. With the escape from the Fulbourn comes the truth about what lies ahead.
The journey will be perilous. The great hunt has begun. And all is not as it should be for a beleagered daemon.
Can Silas and the Order outwit the Morrigan, and deliver Pitch to where Seraphiel's secrets lie?Or will the sorcerers' Herlequin succeed where all the rest have failed?
CHECK OUT THE OTHER BOOKS IN THE SERIES
BOOK 1
Book Title: The Bandalore - Pitch & Sickle Book One
Cover Artist: Deranged Doctor Designs
Release Date: February 25, 2021
Heat Rating: 2 flames
Length: 285 pages
Genre: Historical Fantasy MM
Tropes: Slow, slow burn, opposites attract
Themes: Loneliness and friendship
It is not a standalone book. This is the first book in the Gaslamp Fantasy series, The Diabolus Chronicles.
It has an unresolved storyline rather than an outright cliffhanger.
Life as a servant of death has its challenges. But the biggest one of all is Silas’s daemonic guardian, Pitch.
Blurb
Silas Mercer is a dead man walking.
And the mysterious Order of the Golden Dawn have big plans for their newest ankou and his deathly bandalore.
Life as a servant of death has its challenges.
But the biggest one of all is Silas’s daemonic guardian, Pitch.
He may look like heaven, but he’s making Silas's life all kinds of hell.
The daemon is arrogant, egotistical and his appetite for violence and tea cakes is fast outgrowing the small village where they have been recuperating since their run-in with Black Annis.
Now, the increasingly unstable Blight is causing new havoc, and fresh monstrosities are emerging.
Pitch and Sickle are back in the saddle, and on their way to the haunted Forest of Dean.
But can Silas rely on his guardian’s protection?
Or will Pitch prove to be the most dangerous encounter of all?
BOOK 3
Book Title: The Skriker - Pitch & Sickle Book Three
Length: 369 pages
Release Date: October 20, 2021
Genres: MM Fantasy, Gaslamp Fantasy, Historical Fantasy
Silas Mercer has faced wily boggarts, mad faerie queens and enraged forest spirits. But can he withstand a daemon who is losing his mind?
Blurb
Silas Mercer has faced wily boggarts, mad faerie queens and enraged forest spirits.
But can he withstand a daemon who is losing his mind?
Pitch and Sickle are left bruised, battered and reeling after their confrontation with the Verderer.
They have learned a startling truth behind the arrowhead that wounded Silas, a truth that must be taken to the Lady Satine and the Order without delay.
But his encounters in the Forest of Dean have effected Pitch in alarming ways. The daemon’s body may have healed but his erratic behaviour and wildly unpredictable temper grow ever more concerning.
Silas owes his life to Pitch. Their experience in the forest has brought them a closeness he could not have imagined possible.
But what can he do for a daemon who is losing his way? And how long will Silas survive, if he must ride alone?
BOOK 4
Book Title: The Greensward - Pitch & Sickle Book Four
Length: 412 pages
Release Date: April 13, 2022
Genres: MM Fantasy, Gaslamp Fantasy, Historical Fantasy
The Lady’s Horsemen are riding out once more. Carrying death’s scythe to where tormented souls linger.But what awaits them in a world where divine magick has returned?
Blurb
The Lady’s Horsemen are riding out once more. Carrying death’s scythe to where tormented souls linger.
But what awaits them in a world where divine magick has returned?
Pitch is recovered from the injuries he received in the Forest of Dean, and Silas won’t soon forget the part he played in setting his guardian back on his feet.
The ankou and the daemon have been reunited in a most unexpected and intimate way, but barely have they caught their breath when a new threat arises.
A tortured spirit is frightening both the living and the dead along the roads of Devon.
But is this soul a monster that must be stopped, or another pawn in the necromancer’s mysterious game?
With Azazel’s magick re-emerging after hundreds of years, maleficium plagues the world once more. But who is wielding the forbidden arcane magick of the angels?
Do they work alone?
And why are they so intent on harassing the Lady’s Horsemen?
Silas has never felt stronger, or more determined to live up to the Order’s high expectations. He’s faced the walking dead, outwitted the enchanted Hall, and gained an ally in the skriker.
But he’s not sure he’s equipped to handle his growing attraction to a troubled daemon.
And Silas fears that getting any closer to Pitch and his tragic secrets may prove as dangerous as the monsters they are riding to face.
BOOK 5
Book Title: The Fulbourn – Pitch & Sickle Book Five
Author: D K Girl
Publisher: Lucas Publishing
Length: 133Kwords/ 458 pages
Release Date: October 20, 2022
It is not a standalone story. While it does not end on a cliffhanger, there are some unresolved issues.
When the King of Daemonkind comes to call, be ready for hell to follow.
Blurb
After Lucifer’s disturbing visit, the quest to destroy the Blight takes on a desperate urgency.
Finding Lieutenant Edward Charters is paramount.
But what role does a mortal man play in Seraphiel’s dangerous game?
The angel has sent Pitch a talisman from beyond the grave, a seemingly innocuous watch that may be the key to ending the Watcher King’s dark legacy. But to learn its secret Pitch and Silas must find the man intended to carry it.
As the search for the lieutenant begins, the Horsemen find themselves gifted with something more precious than any angelic token. An evening of unexpected freedom. A night that will deepen their intimacy and bring long-stifled feelings to the fore.
But what price will they pay for choosing breathless pleasure over rigid duty?
The Morrigan have not forgiven the destruction at the greensward. They are prepared to do whatever it takes to rid themselves of the Horsemen and heed the Watcher King's ghostly call.
The Fulbourn is Pitch and Silas's greatest threat yet. A place that will drive them into the depths of their most terrible fears and seek to tear them apart.
They are closer than ever before but will that fragile new bond be enough to save them? Or have the daemon prince and his ankou found the nemesis that will destroy them once and for all?
Excerpt from ‘The Bandalore-Pitch & Sickle Book One’
A rather pretty gentleman, sharp featured, pale and fine, stepped into the room with a flourish of raised hands. His tousled light brown hair was wild about his shoulders, and his eyes so green it was as though emeralds had been pressed into the sockets. ‘Let the amusements begin…or should I say…continue.’
His velvet coat, a red almost as bold as the woman’s lips, was unbuttoned, revealing a black shirt with a silver brocade of Chinese dragons upon it. An elaborate ruffling of silk tumbled from the collar and covered a good portion of his chest. His choice of trousers was equally curious, a rather outdated fall-front style in black silk.
The baron groaned, but his smile was ever-present. ‘Good god, man, we thought you two would never be done.’
‘Perfection takes time, does it not?’
‘Take your seat, you rascal, and stop your showmanship, at least just for a moment.’
Silas scratched his right palm absently, attempting to stymie the prickle. Like many things about himself he wasn’t certain of his age, his late twenties was likely, much the same as the man who had just swept into the room.
Mr Astaroth tilted his head, pursing lips that held a near-perfect Cupid’s bow. ‘Am I to stand aside so another showman can perform?’
‘Exactly,’ the baron declared.
As Mr Astaroth made his way to his seat with his companion, he had a notable effect on those in attendance. The ladies all at once seemed incapable of deciding how they should adjust their gowns upon their seats, and the men were equally as fidgety. All of them were fixated on Mr Astaroth’s procession across the room. The man had not spared Silas a glance yet, even when he was deriding him, and Silas had no issue with that at all. He was not sure he’d enjoy the pierce of those green eyes upon him. But he could not deny there was indeed something mesmerising about the lad, the sway of his hips, the coiled tension in his body that gave the impression he might suddenly leap unannounced in any direction.
Mr Astaroth stopped to take a glass of champagne from the tray offered by a somewhat flustered young footman. The liquid wobbled in its crystal confines, and the boy’s eyes darted so quickly between the floor and the man before him, it was as though he’d lost control of his eyeballs.
‘Thank you, kind sir. What a wonderful job you do.’ Mr Astaroth’s smile was discomfortingly suggestive, his whispered appreciation of the boy’s offering far too intimate, and the serving boy nearly stumbled over his own feet to move away.
Mr Astaroth was slender, not remarkable in height, and the angles of his face were delicate to the point of being feminine, but he held a presence that quite overwhelmed the room. Silas’s gaze moved down the length of the man’s body to his feet. He wore heeled boots, which meant he was shorter than first impressions allowed. The glean of polished leather distracted Silas from what became startlingly obvious a moment later. He tensed and closed his eyes a second, as though that might change things. But alas it was not to be.
The ground at Tobias Astaroth’s feet held no shadow.
Whoever this man was, he was not, for all intents and purposes, human. Silas took hold of the arms of the chair, filled with the sudden desire to depart. No one had thought to instruct him on an encounter such as this.
‘Stop frightening the help and get your arse on a chair,’ declared the bespectacled man at Silas’s left. ‘We know how you hate to have attention diverted from you, so do try and behave, Pitch old boy.’
Evidently the group knew the man well enough to have endowed him with a nickname. Silas could only imagine its origins.
‘Oh Brenton,’ Victoria, Mr Astaroth’s companion, said. ‘As far as I’m concerned, Tobias has been on his best behaviour all evening.’ She had taken her seat and leaned her elbows upon the table, utterly at ease.
‘Thank you, my dear,’ Mr Astaroth said. ‘You are as sensible as you are extremely talented in the art of, what were we calling it? Tarot reading.’ He tilted his glass towards her before turning to Silas. The air quite vanished from Silas’s lungs beneath the daggers of his emerald stare. ‘How very nice to make your acquaintance, Mr Mercer. I do hope we are in for a wonderful show.’
About the Author
Danielle K Girl is an Aussie who lives in stunning Tasmania with her three furkids, cats Luffy, Sweetie and Ren.
Her idea of heaven is a farm full of rescue animals, with a vegie garden that sprouts peanut M&M’s and chocolate wheaten biscuits.
When she’s not keyboard-deep in mysterious, beguiling worlds, she is binge watching K-Dramas, listening to K-Pop or hiking through the beautiful Tasmanian wilderness.
