Tag Archives: war


Title: Legacy (Joey Santana Book 3)
Author: Karina Espinosa
Genre: Urban Fantasy
Cover Designer: Orina Kafe
Publication Date: Mar. 31st, 2022
Hosted by: Lady Amber’s PR

Humans vs Supes. The war has finally begun.


With our faction leaders taken by the humans, we are left to fend for ourselves in a locked down supernatural district with limited supplies. Great. How long can we survive without the outside world?


In my desperate attempt to rescue my friends, I make a deal with both Magdalena and the seelie. Unfortunately, that plan backfires and the consequences are dire. Leaving me in a predicament in which I can’t solve on my own.


With my family curse looming over my head, and the need to help the supes, I desperately try to fix everything. But when it all comes crashing down, will I be able to survive?

Karina Espinosa is the Urban Fantasy Author of the Mackenzie Grey novels and The Last Valkyrie series. An avid reader throughout her life, the world of Urban Fantasy easily became an obsession that turned into a passion for writing strong leading characters with authentic story arcs. When she isn’t writing badass heroines, you can find this self-proclaimed nomad in her South Florida home binge watching the latest series on Netflix or traveling far and wide for the latest inspiration for her books. Follow her on social media!

STAR CROSSED – The Truth Will Set You Free

Don’t expect an easy read.

What you will get is a brilliant, well- written novel on such a contraversial subject that still triggers many.

502 pages that will have you glued to the book.


Klara Bergmann, a Jewish woman and former journalist, witnesses her grandfather’s cold-blooded murder by the hands of a Nazi soldier. This loss marks the beginning of an odyssey that – with the help of the Klein family – will force her to travel through Germany and find shelter in Warsaw, but her peace is short-lived: as the shadow of Nazism looms heavy over Europe, Klara soon finds out that no place is safe. Alone and once again forced to escape across a war-torn world, will she be able to find safety?

Johannes Neumann is a high-ranked SS soldier whose ruthless ambition has brought him to a close friendship with Himmler and Adolf Hitler himself, to the point of becoming Dachau’s concentration camp only real leader – cold and ironclad as his own faith in the Third Reich. And yet, bearing witness to the destruction of Warsaw and receiving shocking news about his past puts his whole world to the test, forcing him to ask himself the question that, sooner or later, haunts every one of us: who am I?

In the middle of World War II, their paths will move towards one another time and time again without never really crossing until a conclusion in which everything loses significance and living is the only option.


“It’s a fascinating read that draws you straight into the setting along with the characters. I enjoyed Klara, one of the main characters in the story, and was amazed at her ability to overcome debilitating fear and stand up to monsters. I could also understand her frustration in being forced to hide while the men fight and I believe her principle in defending the innocent againt the sick Nazis was what drove her to become as bold as a lion. Neumann, the other main character, is as brutal as it gets when it comes to villains. Without spoiling anything, he learns of a life changing secret that turns the story into a whole new yet exciting direction.”


Klara hated being a woman. More than that, she hated that they didn’t let her take part in the battle because she
was a woman. They wanted to protect them, and she could even understand if that was just for mothers or
pregnant women, but her? And what about all the teenage girls who wanted to fight and help?
“They should let us out.” She said, staring at the ceiling with open eyes. “Leaving us here was a mistake.”
“They’re just protecting us.” Said one of the many people there.
“No, she’s right.” Replied another one. “But go tell Mordechai.”
“They’re just protecting us.” Said one of the younger girls there.
“Yes, but who’s protecting them?” Klara asked, shaking her head. “Can’t you see this makes no sense?”
“I agree with Klara. We should be able to go out there and face the Nazis together as a community. A true
resistance can’t involve just half of us.”
“And would you die and leave your daughter alone?” An old woman asked her, but Lucja clenched her jaw.
That answer bothered her.
“If our men lose, we’re all going to die anyway. Daughters included.”
Klara nodded. “No doubt.”
“But they’re men. War is for men. They’re stronger.”
“Wrong.” Klara looked at the woman next to her. They were about the same age. “They’re weak and hungry.
They’re thin, malnourished, just like us… even worse than us, sometimes.”
“What if they hope the German soldiers spare us if we don’t take part?”
Klara laughed, openly making fun of that idea. “I lived in Germany. I come from Munich. They broke into
our homes, and they didn’t spare any woman there, nor did they show mercy for kids.” She explained, her voice
harsh. “When they deport us, they don’t deport just men. They take everyone. What are you talking about?”
“Klara is right.” Johanna said, sitting up and looking around. “And it’s even worse for us: we can make
children, and they knew that every human being that comes out of our bodies will forever be an enemy of the
Reich. Saving the women would be the last thing I would do if I was them.”
A long silence followed.
“What do we do, then?”
“Nothing.” Klara replied to their surprise. “They locked us here, and we have no weapons. If we had them, we
don’t know how to use them. We can just wait.” She declared, huffing as every woman around her felt the same
rancor she was experiencing towards their own men, their people.
If I have to die, Klara thought, at least I want to die fighting for me. She looked at the women around her: for them—
that made sense. That, and trying to kill every Nazi in sight


Sebastian Hidalgo is a Venezuelan author born in 1995.
In 2005, after the Venezuelan government violated the secrecy of vote in a referendum and persecuted several citizens, he was forced to move to northern Italy with his family. He lived there for fourteen years: during that time, he obtained a certificate in hostage negotiation and bachelor’s degree in International Relations and never stopped pursuing his true passion—writing.

In 2019, Hidalgo ultimately decided to abandon Italian as his writing language and pursue his long-time project of transitioning to English, a decision that pushed him to write the currently unpublished fantasy novel “Nightcrawlers” in 2020. That year he translated and published “Star-Crøssed: The Truth Will Set You Free”, another historical novel set in WWII that marks his independent debut in the English-speaking market and that is currently available on Amazon worldwide.



Cover reveal – Deception

Award-winning author Victoria Saccenti delves into the genre of erotic and light BDSM in this thriller of revenge and manipulation.

Cover design by Scott Carpenter.

It’s awesome to find a cover for an erotic novel that doesn’t have a naked man on the front but can still give off that sexy dom vibe. I love it!


Pre-order now for just $0.99 – £0.99  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08B1DGSBS

Her submission is his sweet revenge…until the truth detonates his plans.

When Joe learns Hunter’s name, his inner Dom’s lust turns to black rage—he’s convinced it’s her fault a teammate committed combat suicide. He embarks on a plan to seduce her, but by the time her sweetness ensnares him, the truth threatens what could be the love of a lifetime.





For The Love of Science



“Fiction based on imagined future scientific or technological advances and major social or environmental changes, frequently portraying space or time travel and life on other planets.”


Check Dr Wesley’s hard- sci-fi short story, The Fates Of Evil Men. Available on Amazon for just 99c.

It’s nearly 40 years in the future. Planet Earth has been decimated by both climate change and horrific biological weapons. The U.S. has divided into four countries giving many states independence from Washington D.C.

Captain Mary Carpenter has to investigate the hideous murder of an Islamic informer to her Dallas, Texas police department. There are two roads she must explore.

Was it Islamic followers of the Holy Allah Movement taking out a traitor to their cause? Or was it the Tex-Zis, the Texas-Nazis wanting to purify their state of all non-whites?

Either way, the danger of an incurable skin-splitting virus threatens Dallas. Can Mary Carpenter stop the cold-blooded mass killers?




Spy-Fi fans should enjoy Wes Britton’s new short story, “The Alien Who Never Was.” (Spy fans likely know what the title alludes to.) This tale of espionage on Beta-Earth is ready for your hungry Kindle at–

“If you know where your enemy is going to attack from, that is a great advantage to you, is it not?”
“An immense advantage.”

But what if that advantage is a clever ruse dreamed up by a half-alien using a trick he learned from the history of his father’s home planet? Throw in a diverting sexy spy to spice up the action and you get “The Alien Who Never Was,”


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The Blind Alien is a story with a highly original concept, fascinating characters, and not-too-subtle but truthful allegories. Don’t let the sci-fi label or alternate Earth setting fool you–this is a compelling and contemporarily relevant story about race, sex, and social classes.”
Still priced at just 0.99c for the ebook.


The epic opens when Malcolm Renbourn, a young history teacher, walks into an ordinary bank on an ordinary day. Suddenly, he feels excruciating pain. Unexpectedly, he loses his sight and discovers he has been drawn against his will across the multi-verse to a slave-holding country on a parallel earth. He doesn’t understand a single word he hears, but he soon comprehends that he is the focal point in the quest to end a plague that kills three out of four male babies their first year on Beta-Earth.
Branded state property, he must escape, but where can a blind man in a strange world dominated by desperate scientists run? And on a world where polygamy is the norm, how can Malcolm Renbourn adapt into becoming the husband of five independent wives who never expected to be the mothers of a generation a planet hopes to carry the genes that will change everything? And that’s just part of the story.





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Excerpt from The Wayward Missiles. Hard-scifi by Wesley Britton.

Available on Amazon 99c

The following scene was culled from the short story, “The Wayward Missiles” set during the Alman Civil War. We see Larakey Rimudas, the leader of a Kirip resistance cell, and Jolcolm Renbourn, the half-alien son of the “Blind Alien” from Alpha-Earth, hunting missile parts the Almans are manufacturing to create new and more deadly weapons.


Less than an half-hour later, Larakey, Jolcolm, and their company laid low in the brush along a gravel road where a giant tree had fallen across the gravel. Waiting for the Alman transports was now a matter of quiet patience.

As their wait continued for longer than they expected, Jolcolm speculated, “It could be that they have finished their move. We may be too late to grab a missile from them.”

Larakey softly replied, “There will be another. We know at least one transport is on the move. Patience is our only weapon right now.”

“While we have this time to burn, there’s something I want to ask you, Larakey, something important, regarding your daughter, Hiqqa.”

“You’d like her to be your first wife. I think everyone knows that, young Renbourn. On one finger, I like that idea. On another, what would happen to Hiqqa if you are killed? Her heart would be shattered.”

“All I can do is try to get killed not.”

“That is a good thing to hope for. So we can resume this conversation when the fighting is over.”

Suddenly, the company heard the motor of an Alman truck pulling up in front of the fallen tree.

The rebels saw one soldier run up to the passenger side of the driver’s cabin, get orders to move the obstruction, and saw five Almans go up to move the tree while two others guarded the truck from one side of the road, two others did the same on the other.

But, very quickly, the tree-movers realize they needed more muscle to dislodge the tree. So one soldier from each side of the road abandoned guard duty to help out.

Nah Olot, not the only rebel feeling itchy trigger-fingers, whispered to her commander, “Larakey?”


Jolcolm whispered with conviction, “We can take them.”

Again Larakey ordered, “Wait. One more minute.”

The Almans moved the tree a foot or so, but that was not nearly enough clearance. So they called for the two remaining guards to help.

The guards shouldered their chrons and headed for the tree. As their sergeant commanded everyone to “Lift!”, the twenty rebels stormed out of the bushes and trees and mowed down all the Almans they could see.

Nah Olot ran behind the truck and stopped, his chron pointed into the covered bed. He paused, a big smile forming on his face.

At the same time, Jolcolm stood at the commander’s window, his chron pointed at the commander’s head. Flancono covered the driver on the other side of the truck.

Jolcolm ordered the commander to come out quietly, and the haughty woman complied.

“You make a big mistake,” the commander said. “My Colonel expects this truck soon. If it arrives not on schedule . . .”

Smiling, Jolcolm replied, “Take off your clothes.”

“What? I will do no such thing. I am an officer of the Alman Land forces . . .”

In response, Jolcolm fired a dart between the commander’s feet. The commander started undressing.

While Jolcolm watched the Luntaist, Larakey stepped up to the back of the truck, several of her soldiers joining her.

Her eyes widened with disbelief when she saw Nah Olot in the back of the truck next to stacks of pravine cases. He popped a bottle open and took a big chug.

Looking at Larakey’s face, Nah Olot observed, “It seems we have captured their pravine provisions!”

While most of the soldiers let loose with a big cheer as Nah Olot began passing around bottles, Larakey’s shoulders slumped as she turned away. If she didn’t fear being seen, she wanted to cry with disappointment and torment. All those corpses lying in the road over pravine? War was such an abominable waste. She would never forget her decisions this day. Would her sleep ever be peaceful again?

Near the front of the pravine truck, the Luntist commander dropped her pants and stood rigidly in her underpants and not much else.

Nodding with acceptance, Jolcolm instructed “Now, run!”

The Alman started running in the direction the truck was heading before Jolcolm stopped her and ordered her to run back where the truck had come from. As she ran past the back of the truck where the exhilarated Kirippeans were enjoying their unexpected bounty of potent drinks, she got a rousing round of cheers, laughter, and applause.

Larakey approached Jolcolm and told him what the truck contained. She complained, “No missile parts, no secret components, just pravines. Those bodies up there died for pravines!”

Jolcolm looked intently into Larakey’s eyes, knowing what he would find. That haunted expression of those who had made important judgment calls that resulted in catastrophe.

He had known that expression all his life – his family had been at the center of more than their share of earth-shaking events.

So he knew he should speak of things much less intense than slaughtering Almans to distract Larakey. “From what I hear back there, the troops are enjoying this cargo. And, at least, we have another truck. We need to get it off this road and around that tree. Could be a major pain considering the difficulties the Luntaists had with it.”

Suddenly his ears perked up and he stood stock still. “Listen,” he advised as he heard a distant whistle in the sky. Both Larakey and Jolcolm were innvigorated by the sound, both knowing what it meant.

Larakey cried, “Come with me!” The pair raced up the hill on the one side of the road.

At the hill’s top, Larakey looked up and pointed, “There!”

A beam or so away, a missile zoomed through the sky. But, it looked like it was wobbling as it swerved to the left and fell to the earth in a fast descent. After it disappeared behind some distant trees, Jolcolm and Larakey wore puzzled expressions. For there was no explosion.

“It exploded not,” Jolcolm mused.

With enthusiasm, Larakey replied, “Let’s go find it! Hurry!” They dashed back down the hill to the truck.


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