Wednesday, January 31, 2024

Blog Tour: Mages & Magic Series


Fantasy Adventure (All Ages)

Date of Publication: 1 September 2023


Rojo Siete Φωτιά

The red dragon full of chaos fire magic must serve the human mages for seventy years.

Leslie Μάγος

Orphaned human child of slaves, sold to the Magesterium to train as a mage, and paired with a fire dragon.

Ruven Σκιά

Shadow assassin elf turned tracker with a hellhound who eats the undead.

Heista Νεκρός

An undead priest risen and controlled by the most powerful necromancer

Tiamat is a demon god from Earth now banished to a world full of magic and dragon. Lucky for him, his dragon form is a six-headed dragon. The magic here is not like on Earth, it comes from dragons, not from souls.

To be a god on this world, he must learn how to harness the power of the dragons. So, pretending to be less than he is, he joins the Magesterium to train as a mage. He masters this ability easily but is paired with a dragon who was once a human. Her dragon mate has died and if he doesn’t pair with her, the other dragons will kill her.

Her magic is weak, but Tiamat can fix that. He can show this world that the dragons banished from their clans can find a new purpose, just like him. Until his past catches up and demons from Earth arrive to take a soul from Tiamat that they feel is theirs. Turns out, necromancy is easy to do on this world and the other demons have no qualms about using it.

To defeat the other demons, Tiamat must give up the new life he’s found, and become the god he was destined to be.

This story is told from multiple viewpoints and is available in both an all-ages friendly adaptation (Mage & Magic) and the original (Mages and Mates) which has a heavier focus on romance.


Purchase Link



Fantasy Adventure (All Ages)

Date of Publication: 8 September 2023


Olje Ιππότης

Dedicated Goblin Paladin of the Sun Deities, raised as an undead protector to Tiamat

Gruillie Καλόγερος

Religious Goblin Monk, fierce warrior, and bound to Mage Tiamat as his dragon.

Tiamat ψόφιος

Six-headed demon god dragon sworn to protect the inhabitants of this world.

Neo Νερό

Water Dragon, bound to Mage Peter and entangled with demons.


Goblins have secrets. Their knowledge of science has created the sun deities and given them the power to harness the holy sun power from another plane of existence. Their methods of creating the coveted gold is unethical. Their practices drive a wedge in their alliance to the six-headed demon god Tiamat and soon elves, humans, dragons, and goblins are divided in who they will trust in the coming war against the undead.

New mages and dragons become trusted allies, while others are lost. Neo, a water dragon, despises elves and undead, yet vows to help Tiamat in order to protect his clan. Olje, a goblin monk, once faithful to Tiamat, shifts his priorities when an unwitting mage comes into possession of a clutch of goblin gold. This gold must be acquired and kept safe at all costs, even if it means asking the elves for help.

This story is told from multiple viewpoints and is available in both an all-ages friendly adaptation (Mage & Magic) and the original (Mages and Mates) which has a heavier focus on romance.

Purchase Link


“The fire sprites,” I said before Gruillie could answer my question. “Your sun deities are female goblins?”

“No-no,” Gruillie quickly denied, but I could see the fear in his eyes.

“What did you call them?” Olje asked.

“I saw them,” I said. I glanced at him briefly, not wanting to bring up the memory. “When you turned me into a dragon the first time. They took me to another astral plane or something. They looked like sprites to me, but I figured out they were the things you worship as sun deities. They were the same size as goblins. Same shape. I can’t believe I didn’t figure it out sooner.”

“Okay, okay, let’s pretend aye agree with ye,” Gruillie said.

“Let’s drop the pretenses, monk,” I snapped. “Have they always been sun deities or was that a side effect from all your experiments? The men got the ability to turn into dragons, and the women became fire creatures?”

“They don’t like to be called creatures,” Olje said.

“Monsters, then?”

They both gasped, like they thought I’d be smited for saying such a thing.

“Deities. They are sun deities.”

“You’re terrified of them.”

“Of course, we are. All our power comes from them. They are the gods of this world.”

“Born or made, Gruillie. Tell me.”

He clenched his jaw, refusing to speak.


“Made.” This earned him a swift whack from the staff Gruillie held. “Aye can’t help it. He’s my necromancer. Aye have to obey.”

“You didn’t think you should tell me about this?”

“Do ye know what would happen if word got out? Imagine the elves becoming sun deities? Or dragons? We have to keep our secrets close-hold.”

“Your women are running around pretending to be gods.”

“They aren’t pretending,” Olje said. “They are gods.”

“They are your daughters,” I growled. “They are suffering from a side effect of your people’s experiments.” It took me a few swipes but I managed to yank Gruillie’s staff from him. “So, your women are sun deities and somehow you’re able to channel their power through gold objects?”

“Aye,” Gruillie said.

“Did you ever try to fix them?” They were both silent. “Did you ever ask them if they want to be normal again?”

“They aren’t exactly talkative,” Gruillie said. “When they are on our… as ye put it astral plane… they light things on fire and sing songs. So, when they hatch, we banish them.”

“You banish them. Of course, you do.” I put both hands on the staff and tried to focus on the sun power residing in it. I had more power now, thanks to the elf, so it was possible I could shift to the other plane. I’d gone there before, and I hadn’t been nearly as powerful as I was now.

My world filled with a golden haze, and my body burned with pain like it had on that first day. In the flames that danced around me, I saw the figures slowly become distinct. I grabbed the nearest one and held onto them, pulling them into a bearhug and shoving my darkness into them. It snuffed out their light and I shifted back to the plane we belonged in, still holding her tightly.

I held the staff in front of us, channeling what remained of the sun powers into it, then dropped it. I couched and released the goblin I held. She stumbled and wobbled in circles for a bit, completely naked, with disheveled red hair that was so long it kept tripping her. She saw the two men with us and hurried to cover herself with the hair.

“A woman,” Gruillie said. He looked at me. “How did ye do that?”

“I don’t think I could have without the elf bond.” My head throbbed, and my body was exhausted. “It’ll be a bit before I can do it again.”

“We need to get out of here. We can’t stay on this beach.” Olje glanced wearily in the direction of Dragon Isle. We were a bit too close to that. “Can ye make us a portal?”

“Only to the Magesterium… but, I know a guy.” I reached out to Mage Peter and told him to come. Instead of shifting to smoke and flying to us, he opened a portal. Because of course, portals were easy for him to make.

He stepped through, bringing his dragon with him.

“What is this?” the blue dragon asked in his human form.

“You’re going to keep your mouth shut about all of this,” I said. “Do that, and I’ll put in a good word about you to Leslie.”

The dragon nodded.

“I need you to make a portal to Benchual Temple,” I said.

“You called me here to make you a portal? You’re a mage, can’t you do that yourself?” Peter asked.

“Oye, ye be a new undead. Welcome,” Olje said, strolling over with his hand extended.

“Undead.” The dragon looked at Peter. “When did that happen? You died? He’s your necromancer?”

“Want to join him?” I asked.

“I did not say I had a problem with it. No problems. No, sir.” He politely stepped back and clasped his hands.

“Is yer dragon a juvenile? He looks to be wee one of ten,” Olje said.

“I’m not as short as you,” the dragon snapped.

“Stop it. Portal now. We need to get her somewhere and I…” I couldn’t stand. “Need to rest.” I shot a glare at Peter. “I better not wake up in a dungeon.”

“Oh, aye knew there’d be a reason he killed ye,” Gruillie said. “Give me one of yer robes. The lass be naked.”

As Peter obliged, helping to cover the nude goblin, it was the water dragon who came to me and offered to help me stand. He was remarkably short, not even reaching my shoulders, but he was stout and easily took my weight.



About the Author

Nina Schluntz is a native to rural Nebraska. In her youth, she often wrote short stories to entertain her friends. Those ideas evolved into the novels she creates today.

Her husband continues to ensure her stories maintain a touch of realism as she delves into the science fiction and fantasy realm. Their three cats are always willing to stay up late to provide inspiration, whether it is a howl from the stray born in the backyard or an encouraging bite from the so called “calming kitten.”


You can find Nina at:





Queer Romance Ink




Series Purchase Link



a Rafflecopter giveaway 

RABT Book Tours & PR

Tuesday, January 30, 2024

PROMO: The Body



Poems and Stories

Poetry, Women

Date Published: Jan 31, 2024

Publisher: Bookbaby


How do you stitch yourself back together after trauma, loss, grief, heartbreak? By inviting what is broken to become what is breathtaking. THE BODY is a collection of poems and short stories written in lyrical prose during the hardest moments of the author's life. This collection explores themes of love, loss, grief, seduction, creativity, consciousness, female empowerment, post- traumatic expansion, and the collective human experience. Because when words are not enough, art is the container that holds what the body cannot. And as the heart breaks open, the soul can be set free.

About the Author

Artist. Two-time TEDx talker. Singer-Songwriter. Entrepreneur. Novelist-Playwright. Ghostwriter. Mental Health Advocate. A no-holds barred journey of transformation and recovery from PTSD, Holly's story is a raw and honest testament to the power of creative resilience. Forged from the heartache of personal trauma, she's spun her pain into a wealth of creative prowess, shattering societal norms, and challenging the idea of 'spiritual bypassing.'

Holly's lyrical prose combines self-hypnosis with carefully crafted wordsmithing to ignite the senses and the soul through their musical cadence. Holly wrote, produced, and starred in her debut musical BLOOD SUPPLY: A ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE LOVE STORY premiering in Los Angeles January 2023 to stellar reviews. She releases music under the artist name HOLLY HOLLOWS and resides in Los Angeles, CA.

Contact Links


Instagram: @hollyanne_mitchell

Youtube: @hollyannemitchell

Tiktok @hollyanne.mitchell


Purchase Link



a Rafflecopter giveaway 

RABT Book Tours & PR

PROMO: Love or Lies



Christian Romance

Date to be Published: 01-31-2024

Publisher: Pen It Publications


This touching Christian Romance follows Elizabeth’s journey to rediscover her connection with God and to unlock the true power of love

When El’s prestigious position in the company she helped to build is eliminated, she loses both her boyfriend and her place to live. Facing an uncertain future, she agrees to return home to settle her deceased aunt’s estate. But her trip down memory lane comes with a few surprises.

Her high school sweetheart turned pastor is officiating the funeral. Her antisocial aunt regularly hosted a rowdy church youth group. And mysteries hide not just in letters stashed away in a safe deposit box but also in the very pages of her aunt’s novels.

As the secrets and lies unravel, El must confront the ghosts of her past relationships, the distance between her and God, and the truth about real love. But will she give any type of love a chance?

In Love or Lies, El takes an emotional journey of self-discovery and faith to make sense of her past and look beyond the lies she’s been told. This touching Christian Romance explores what it means to rediscover a connection with God and to unlock the true power of love. 

Chapter One

With hands clenched so tight my fingers might break, I scowl at Josh as he holds up his hand, stopping me in mid-sentence … again. “El, stop. Don’t get all emotional about this. I’ve heard your opinion and have made my decision. It’s 2002, and the dot-com world is expanding quicker than anyone expected. We need to strike now or risk being passed by. Just because it’s not your idea doesn’t mean it’s not good for the company. You refuse to consider the full potential of this.” He sighs as he picks up a red folder with black trim from his desk. These are his ‘For his eyes only’ folders. “I need—” 

 There’s a knock at his open door, and Poppy, the young, perky intern, bounces into the office. All that’s missing is her cheerleader outfit, although her normal attire is far from suitable for any professional office. Why is she still here this late? 

 “Excuse me, J … uh, Mr. Baker, it’s the call you’ve been waiting for. Mr. Abernathy is on line one.” 

 Josh smiles at her. “Thank you, Poppy, and thanks for staying late. You’re free to leave and take care of that other task we discussed.” He drops the folder on his desk while picking up his phone. 

 Did his gaze linger as she pranced out? Her tight dress leaves little to the imagination. How can she even sit down in it? I shake my head and concentrate on Josh. The name of his caller is familiar from the many discussions we’ve had. “Is this about the IPO?” 

 “We’re done here. I’m not discussing this anymore.” He waves toward the door and pushes the phone button as he turns his back to me. “Jack, thanks for returning my call. How are you doing tonight?” Knowing he’s dismissed me outright, I storm out, with the clack of my Jimmy Choo high heels on the tile floor echoing along the hallway. I grab my bottle of Pellegrino off the desk and collapse into my desk chair, staring out at nothing. My cherished view of the San Francisco skyline doesn’t help calm me as I rehash this latest altercation with Josh. 

He’s my boss and has been my significant other for several years. I was here when he started this company, and we worked together over the years to make it the success it is. 

 Ever since he got this idea about an IPO, our work relationship has become rocky. The outside-of-work relationship is less ideal than I want, but what relationship is ever perfect? There’s never time for walks in the city, a night out on the town for dinner, or visiting a favorite nightspot. No more Sunday brunches, Saturday afternoon picnics, attending concerts in the park, or the other events I so enjoyed where we could relax and be a couple. 

 My office door opens, breaking my stupor, and Josh walks in. It’s later than normal, as tonight’s not the usual Friday evening for us. I’m Josh’s ride to the airport to catch the red-eye to DC. Is he here to apologize or just to get a ride? But something is off as he strides to the window without even making eye contact with me. He stares stone-faced out the window as he holds the same red and black folder out in my direction. These are for his private use. Why is he bringing it to me? 

 “What is it, Josh?” His hand seems to tremble while holding the folder out, but he still won’t glance in my direction. I take a sip of my Pellegrino while glancing at the old pendulum clock on my wall. I found it in a little secondhand shop right after I graduated. When I moved in with Josh, it didn’t fit the décor of his apartment, so I brought it here. The swinging pendulum and steady tick tick have always calmed me in the past, but they aren’t helping now. I stand and step toward him, forcing my fingers not to quiver as I take the folder. 

He’s still avoiding my gaze. “Is this about the IPO?” 

 He continues to peer out the window with only the sound of the clock reverberating through the room like it’s counting down to an inevitable tragedy. Josh’s heavy sigh interrupts this. “El, my team needs to support me and my ideas. It’s important for everyone to back the decisions I make with enthusiasm. We need to be a cohesive, solid group, putting the company’s needs first.” 

 That’s not the tone of voice I was expecting. He’s using one he reserves for delivering practiced speeches. I remove the sheets of paper from the folder. The subject line on the first page jumps out at me. 

 Termination of employment. 

 My knees go weak, and I struggle to keep my balance as I read the letter. This can’t be happening. When we first met, our visions were on parallel tracks—the same hopes, dreams, and ideas—but now we differ more than we agree. He’s always appreciated my input from a female viewpoint, knowing it’s based on solid business perspectives. But this … I finally find my voice. “You’re firing me? Are you serious?” 

 Still staring out the window, he shakes his head. “It’s not a firing. With the reorganization of the company, your position is no longer viable or sustainable. We can outsource the work for considerable savings. It’s nothing personal.” 

 “Nothing personal!” I slam the empty folder down on my desk. “Even with all your double-talk, it sounds like a firing to me, and how is it not personal?” No. I’m not losing it over this. I take a deep breath. “Is this because I don’t agree with the IPO?” 

 “Here you go again. You need to set your opinion aside and quit letting your emotions blind you to the logic of my decisions. You refuse to understand the big picture. This is the perfect time for an IPO. The expansion will put us in place with the big tech companies.” 

 I shake my head, glaring at him. “No, Josh. It’s not a mere opinion. I stand by my position. An IPO is too risky. You don’t have the financial backing you’ll need, and you could lose control of the company.” I hold out the letter, shaking it. “Is this why you’re firing me? You don’t like what I’m telling you because it doesn’t fit your grand vision?” 

 He moves from the window, now inspecting the items on my wall, still not facing me. “Again, it’s not a firing. You’ve done such a fantastic job setting up our financial foundation that everything is working great. Because of this, eliminating your position is one change we’re able to make.” 

 With one hand on my hip, I grimace while waving the letter in my other hand at him. “That’s absurd. You’re saying I no longer have a job because I was so good at my job? Even for you, that’s quite a stretch, Josh. If I’m so good, why won’t you listen to me? Let me make it clear. You don’t have the finances for an IPO.” I huff in disgust and toss the pages on my desk. 

 He moves to my credenza and picks up the framed picture of the two of us with the Golden Gate Bridge in the background. He waves his other hand in my direction. “I’m giving you two weeks’ notice, but I’d like you to use this weekend to clear out your office. It will be less disruptive if you don’t return on Monday. You know, make a clean break. It’ll be best all the way around.” 

 I struggle to keep my dignity intact. He’d want nothing more than me throwing a fit. This would justify all his comments. I take several deep breaths as I frown at him with crossed arms. “Best for the company or for you?” 

 He sets the picture down and picks up the one of us at the bottom of Lombard Street. “For all. It will give you time to decide what you want for your future. You can make plans and research your options. You’ll get the two weeks’ pay and credit for any accrued vacation time as noted, plus the full severance package detailed in your contract. I’m not shorting you anything in this separation.” 

 Wait? What? He doesn’t mean more than the job? He can’t be. I take a step back with my head to one side and scrutinize him. “We’re still talking about the job, correct? How do I want to move forward regarding a job?” 

 He sets the picture down and gives a quick glance my way. “There’s also a letter of reference. You’re good at what you do, El. One of the best I know, but it’s no longer workable or conducive to this company.” 

 He’s still avoiding eye contact, a sure sign there’s something else going on. After all the meetings we’ve attended, I know him well. “You didn’t answer my question.” While staring daggers at him, I shift my stance. “Is this only concerning the job or something more?” 

 With another sigh, he steps away from the credenza and stops in front of my desk, straightening my nameplate. “Let’s be honest. Things outside of work aren’t going well for us either. It’s like we want different things. We’re no longer on the same track, and this decision will complicate things even more.” He glances at the Rolex I gave him on his last birthday. “This is the perfect time for us to make a clean break. The timing couldn’t be better. You can use the two weeks I’m in DC to pack and find your own place.” In disbelief, I slam my fists on the desk, bouncing my nameplate. With another deep breath to control my anger, I lean toward him. “You’re telling me this now? Right now? As we need to leave for the airport. You’re firing and dumping me?” 

 He takes a quick step back and shakes his head while holding his hands up. “I’m not dumping or firing you. It’s more us parting ways.” He gives another slight wave. “Plus, I’m taking my car to the airport, so you don’t need to bother.” Still, without ever making eye contact for long, he steps toward the door to leave. 

 “Josh, wait. That’s it? Thank you for your service, and it’s been fun, but time to move on. Are you kidding me?” 

 He stops and, with another heavy sigh, glances back my way. “Don’t get all emotional and make a big scene over this. This is nothing but a business decision. I’m sure you sensed it coming as much as I did. We’re not the same people we were when we met. I’ve grown, and so have my ideas and plans for this company. This is the time to expand. 

Two weeks should be enough time to pack your things and find another place. You can still use the car during this time and park it in the garage at the end.” 

 The end. Is this really happening? “You’re taking away my job, my car, and my home? All on a Friday night as you fly off for two weeks?” 

 His gaze lowers to the floor. “El, it’s not me. I’m not taking anything away. It’s for the corporation. The position is being cut, and the company leases the car. As for the other … I’m not sure you could call it a home, more like a place to live. Believe me, this is best for both of us. Once you get past your emotions, you’ll see that.” 

 His expression is as familiar as his tone of voice. He wants to appear reluctant and disappointed in the decision he’s forced to make, but in reality, he isn’t. How long has he been planning this? 

 “Best for the corporation, huh? Don’t try that on me. You’re getting ahead of yourself. There is no corporation or corporate board yet. I’m the one who helped set up this company. There’s only the company. Guess I should be glad you made the ultimate sacrifice and told me in person. Couldn’t bring yourself to do it in an email? ‘El, it’s over. Move out.’” My laser-focused eyes could cut him in half, but he never raises his gaze. “I appreciate the personal touch.” 

 “Like I said, I’m sorry it’s come to this. My decision to do an IPO makes sense, and I know you don’t agree. My team must be behind this one hundred percent, and you’ve made it clear you can’t support my decision. Division in the company is not helpful as we make the announcement. It’s a sign of weakness.” His phone beeps, and he checks it before putting it back in his coat pocket. “I’m sorry, I need to go. Leave the keys to the car and the apartment on the kitchen counter once you’ve finished moving.” He turns and opens the door to leave. 

 “Josh, wait. You’re walking out after telling me this like it’s nothing more than a minor disagreement?” 

 He stops in the doorway, finally glancing back at me. “No, I know it’s not a minor thing, but I’ve made my decision, and I don’t have time to discuss it further. By the time I return, I’m sure you’ll have thought it through and will agree. It’s for the best.” He gives me a slight smile. “You take care.” 

 The sound of the door closing underscores my feelings of anger and frustration. I’m in disbelief. Did this happen for real? My gaze finds the pages of the letter spread across my desk. It’s true. It happened. I should run after him and make him talk this through. But I can’t move. After seven years working with Josh to build this company and almost six years as a couple, the last three of which we lived together, I’m out. I’m thirty-two years old with no job, no car, no home, and I’m alone. Almost halfway through, and 2002 is not going how I thought it would. Where did things go off the rails?

About the Author

Born in Muncie, IN, Craig is as typical middle-America as they come. He was young when his parents divorced and his grandmother came to live with him, his mother, and two sisters. Seeing his grandmother’s faith in God on a regular basis led him to accept and know everything is okay, God’s in charge.

Craig served 20 years in the U.S. Air Force and followed this as a DoD contractor where he had multiple tours overseas and around the U.S. While there were events in his life that tested his faith in God, nothing compared to when his first son was born with major medical issues. As a twenty-one-year-old father with a young devastated wife, his faith had never been tested more. After enduring several surgeries, some considered experimental, his son passed away at six months and two weeks. But even in his brief life, he had a tremendous impact on Craig and others.

Since then, God has blessed Craig with two more sons and has been a constant guidance in his life. Craig’s time in the military and as a contractor afterward included over 20 years overseas, where he was part of local mission churches. On their last return to the states, God led him and his wife to Oklahoma, where he teaches Bible studies and serves in a local church.

The memory of what God did to help him through his parent’s divorce, his son’s illness and death, and many other events in his life, has led him to want to share what impact God had and has with him.

Nowhere are we promised a life without tragedies, setbacks, problems, or devastating events we have no control over, but God’s word does promise, ‘It’s okay, God’s in charge.’


Contact Links



Twitter: @ch875299_craig




Purchase Links



a Rafflecopter giveaway

RABT Book Tours & PR

PROMO: Ornery's Gambit


Ornery Owl's Poetry Collection


Date Published: 02-15-2024

Publisher: Naughty Netherworld Press


The poems, story, and thoughts included in this brief volume were inspired by the independently produced album Wayward and Upward by Spinoza Gambit. The story Prodigal Moon and the poem 401 Rush were included in the Wayward and Upward anthology published by Off Topic Press.

I opted to publish this book on my 59th birthday. It would be a wonderful gift to learn that my work inspired you or led you to learn more about the Wayward and Upward album and anthology.


With love,

Ornery Owl 


About Prodigal Moon

I was inspired by the idea of something that disappears and returns on a predictable schedule (the visible moon) and something that cannot return (a lost love.)

Prodigal Moon

Prodigal moon

You can spin me a silent tune

But you can’t return my love to me

I dare you to try

Catch him on the fly

Before he escapes ‘cross the sea 

Prodigal Moon

A short story about a long-lasting friendship.

Deborah Virgo and Valentins Hines met on the first day of summer 2017. The youngsters lived at the wrong end of Fox Avenue. The electricity had been turned off in Valentins’s house, but he didn’t mind sitting on the covered porch painting figurines. His mother, Doriend Hines, was gone most of the time, working at the Daily Grind Bistro or The Zealous Whistle Tavern or staying overnight with old folks who paid her under the table for her caregiving services. Doriend was a workaholic who would have been thriving monetarily if not for being a functional alcoholic and opioid addict with a love of gambling. 

Valentins was sitting on the porch at dusk, painting a vampire figurine for his haunted house, when a wraithlike girl with an alabaster complexion and waves of xanthic hair flowing to her mid-back entered the gate. She was wearing a knee-length olive-green gown that looked like it might have been all the rage in the 1920s and a pair of shiny, malachite-green shoes. 

 “Hello,” the girl greeted.

 “Hi yourself,” Valentins returned. 

“I’m Deborah Virgo. My family just moved into the house across the road from you.” 

“Valentins Hines.” 

“Could I see what you’re working on?” 

“Sure. Come on up.” 

The girl appeared to float just above the ground as she crossed the lawn. Her rose-colored lips bowed in a reserved smile. As she drew closer, Valentins noticed her unusual eyes. At first, he supposed that the rufous shade was a trick of the light, but the color remained constant when the battery-operated lantern shone directly on the girl’s face.

About the Author

Ornery Owl is a wise old bird who seeks the truth behind the lies. She uses her observations to heal the wounded soul. In essence, she is the spirit of an odd little bird whose wings were clipped at a young age. She is at once a whimsical manifestation of poetic expression and a fierce protector of those targeted for derision by an angry and unsympathetic world. Depending on how you perceive her, she can be either a goddamned delight or your worst nightmare.


Contact Links






Preorder Link




a Rafflecopter giveaway 

RABT Book Tours & PR

PROMO: Profitable Usherpreneur



How To Start And Grow A Successful Ushering Business


Date Published: 09-06-2022

Publisher: MagicWand Publishing


Profitable Usherpreneur: How To Start And Grow A Successful Ushering Business is a book for anyone who wants to build a successful and profitable ushering service business. The book aims to promote ushering service as a business.

In this book, Clementina explains the concept of Usherpreneurship, misconceptions about the ushering business, pricing, and more. PUBook provides practical insights on team building, pricing, and client attraction strategies.

The book offers a way for new and existing agency founders to build a profitable ushering business.




Chapter 1

Green Grass


The grass is greener where you water it

-Coming Up Roses Blog


Being a sales representative with one of the fastest-growing food and beverage companies. I learned from my boss what it's like to treat both clients and employees with excellence.

The company invested its time into getting potential clients to taste their products for free to get leads for sales.

My Boss did not just focus on the big events, he further extended the allocated free sample product to lots of social events by individuals.

In case he learns that someone is getting married, he approaches the individual saying, "Congratulations, our company will like to provide free sample drinks at your event".

For the times I served with him I haven't heard anyone turn down his offer.

Then he proceeds to say we have table water, and we could provide them to you at a discount if you buy more than twenty packs.

He still doesn't stop there, he further goes on to say, "we can also customize the table water to bear your names and pictures or any details you like".

What I found is that, so many customers follow through with all the offers he provides, others may not but no one has ever denied him access to their events.

He then approaches the sales representatives and says we are attending this event and we will have not just our free samples displayed but our products.

Also, we will tell people that visit our product stand what other products they can buy.

So when an attendee visits our stand to get a cup of cold or hot drink. We tell him that if he buys three canned drinks, he gets one free. Plus, we have table water for purchase.

Furthermore, each sales representative gets a commission payment based on the number of purchases he or she closes out aside from the basic pay for showing up to the event.

Many times, at the end of these events we end up not only raising awareness for our products or telling people to invite us for their next events.

We also sell out our products and have people who were only attendees at those events call or refer us for other jobs.

The above principle can work for any Ushering business when service is treated as a two-way street.

I will be back with the story of where I got my ushering business idea from.

Remember: Service is both, how you treat your clients and how you treat your team.

About the Author

Clementina Busayo is an Author, Usherpreneur, & Project Manager.

She is the Founder of Gloriouswills Ushering Services GWUS an ushering agency that teaches the business of ushering, trains ushers to be professionals, and provide ushering service for corporate and social events.

When she is not teaching about the business of ushering via Clementina Busayo's YouTube channel, She loves to moderate events and learn the French language. Clementina believes in

"Service A Tangible Experience" she co-founded Professional GroomsMen - a place for grooms to choose their wedding groomsmen. Through these businesses she is addressing the

sustainable development goal 8 of providing decent Jobs and economic growth. She is the convener of Usherpreneur Summit and she is open to cross-country collaboration.


Contact Links






Purchase Link




a Rafflecopter giveaway 

RABT Book Tours & PR

PROMO: Grimdarke


Maw of Mayhem MC, Book 1


Shifter Romance

Date to be Published: February 2, 2024

Publisher: Changeling Press


Out of options and on the run after her psychotic father’s released from prison, Kit Parson heads to the only place she might be safe from him, the Maw of Mayhem MC. The unexpected move buys her time, but also puts her at risk. Surrounded by shifters, her inner cat begs to be released, and after witnessing a brutal attack on her mother as a child, she refuses to let the monster out. Totally doable, provided no bodily fluids are ever exchanged.

That takes the MC’s hot-as-hell VP, Grimdarke James, officially off the table. Mourning the recent murder of the club’s alpha and struggling to control his inner cat, the tattooed Viking god is on thin ice. If he goes feral again, he’ll be put down. Which makes his cat’s insistence that Kit belongs to him problematic, upsetting the delicate balance of the MC’s internal politics, and the woman blackmailing Grim.

But when Kit’s father catches up with her, Grim has no choice but to trust his cat, and Kit can’t deny their chemistry. Can they hold on to each other when everything is trying to tear them apart? After a gruesome triple murder propels them deeper into the paranormal world, they find themselves with unlikely allies, even as their enemies threaten to destroy everything they hold dear.


Copyright ©2024 AK Nevermore


Upstate New York in the fall was beautiful, and it made Kit want to puke.

She gripped the steering wheel tighter, her sweaty palms slicking the leather, and glanced in her rearview, then at her phone’s GPS. No service -- again. Damn it. This was not where she wanted to be…

Wait. Signs for a trailhead were coming up. Thank you, sweet baby Jesus. She pulled onto the shoulder, staring blankly at the plexi-covered map tacked onto the tiny shelter in front of the car. Woodbine Swamp Trail. Shit. She’d missed the turn-off for the house. Ugh! How could everything in this shit town look the same and so frickin’ different all at once?!

Fifteen years will do that, genius.

Her forehead dropped to the steering wheel, bumping it thrice. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. She couldn’t do this. She couldn’t --

Goddamnit, girl, grow a pair!

Enough. Wasn’t like she had a choice. She pushed back in her seat and slapped the car in reverse, hoping like hell there wasn’t anything behind her. Frickin’ hatchback was stuffed to the gills with the sad remains of her life, and she wasn’t up for losing any more of it.

Kit dashed away a tear. And whose fault was that?

She just had to blow shit up. Couldn’t duck her head and keep punching numbers, because lay low was too big of a fucking ask. Nope, fuck overtime at the accounting firm, had to go out there and twerk her ass at the club, knowing full well that milkshake wasn’t gonna bring anything but trouble to her yard.

Her mind leapt to that tall drink of golden Viking god pissing in a sink, covered in tattoos and oozing temptation. Yup. Case in point, and as much as it shocked the shit out of her, she’d been into him.

So fucking into him, like, wanted him into her.

Not happening.

She bit at a cuticle, trying to ignore the very real possibility she was about to deliver herself to his doorstep, and the fact that her panties had just soaked clean through.

Son of a -- Chanté would quip something about chickens coming home to roost, but they weren’t even Kit’s damned chickens. And why the fuck chickens? Woman was NYC born and raised, you’d think she’d have useless witticisms about pigeons.

Damn, though. He was fiiine…

Stop it.

You’d think she’d be more concerned about the shifter shadowing her for the past two weeks… the one whose face starred in her nightmares. Reaper hadn’t approached her, but his message was clear, and like a fucking cat, he’d been playing with her.

… Run, little mouse…

Kit’s teeth clenched at the memory of her father’s gravelly twang. She put the car in gear and kept driving in the wrong direction. Away from the house, toward the last damned place she wanted to go, and the only place she had left. Two weeks of couch surfing and shitty motels had made that abundantly clear, and her flat fucking broke.

Back to the scene of the crime, the one place she hoped like hell he didn’t have the balls to go back to.

Motorcycles rumbled in the distance and her gut threatened to rebel, cold sweat pebbling her skin. She licked the anxiety from her lips.

The rumble grew, and a moment later a stream of leather and exhaust whipped by her as a convoy of bikes sped past, heading back toward civilization. A manic giggle burbled from her throat, and she took a slow --

Shit! Gas pedal, girl, you gotta keep your shit together…

Focus. Drive to the damned compound. One more mile.

… And keep it together. Hah! Fat fucking chance. She blew out a breath, her temples thudding with the beginnings of a migraine. Goddamn. After all those years of praying to be out from under Claymore James’s thumb… this had not been part of the fantasy.

Getting shit-faced, twerking on his grave, and then setting the MC’s compound on fire, yes. Pulling up to the chain-link gate and asking to see Mud Knuckle?

Nope. Can’t say that’d made the list, but here she was.

I mean really, Mud Knuckle? Kit sighed, rubbing a temple. If she needed any further confirmation her life had officially gone to shit: Ta-frickin’-da.

One of the dopey-looking prospects manning the gate eyed her, pursing his lips. The scraggly little pornstache he was rocking made his mouth look like a porcupine’s asshole.

Moron leaned in her window. “Ain’t no muddy knuckles here.” He snickered, shooting his zit-infested buddy a look.

Kit sighed. Great, they were gonna fuck with he

“Nah,” Zits said, ambling closer to leer. “But I ain’t opposed to rectifyin’ that situation.” He grinned, making a lewd gesture.

Whoo. Ten points for originality there, son. She rolled her eyes and unbuckled her seatbelt. It was showtime. The two high school rejects scrambled back, wide-eyed when she threw open the door and got out, leaving the hoodie she’d permanently borrowed from Chanté on the seat. Fuck, it was hypothermia cold.

“What? I thought we was ‘wreck-t-fyin’ that sits-e-ate-shon,’” she finger quoted, mimicking his dipshit twang and cocking a hip.

Pornstache’s throat bobbed, taking in her tight tee and yoga pants. God, men were pigs. Pathetic, predictable pigs. Flash them braless DDs, and their brains shorted out faster than a hairdryer in a bathtub. Add the fact that her nipples were hard enough to cut glass, and the poor boys didn’t stand a chance.

“Uh, yeah.” Pornstache tugged on his cut and cleared the squeak from his throat. Slack-jawed, Zits smacked his shoulder, earning himself a glare. “I mean, hell yeah. We’re down, baby.”

Kit arched her back, stretching. Damn, that felt good after five hours behind the wheel. Pornstache groaned like he was about to wreck-t-fy in his pants. She sauntered over and ran a finger down his sternum.

“Then how ‘bout you boys open the gate so I can move my car out of the way and get down to business.”

Zits moved so fast he just about face-planted rushing to unlatch the big chain-link section on wheels blocking the compound’s access road. He’d pulled it halfway across the pavement by the time Kit got back into her car. Pornstache shook his head like a dog, blinking as the door clunked shut, and he stumbled over to help his buddy.


Kit almost felt bad as she drove past, waggling her fingers.

Okay, no, she didn’t. She wriggled back into the hoodie, one hand on the wheel and shivering. Her stomach churned as she drove around the last bend to the chapter house, half expecting the entire club to be out there waiting for her. The woods opened up --

And the lot was empty.

Of frickin’ course it was empty. The funeral was today. Now. She could still make it. Wasn’t that why she’d blown out of the city so fast? To spit on Claymore’s grave like she’d told Chanté she was going to? Get some kind of fucked-up closure?

Yeah, has nothing to do with the fact you’re being stalked by a psycho.

Kit bit back a sob, coasting the last few hundred feet to a stop in front of the long, two-storied building. It was ugly. A dark, cinderblock gray, squatting against a barren hillside. She bit her lip, eyes flicking to the last window on the left, waiting for the shitty mini blinds to part.

They didn’t. Wouldn’t.

Dead. Everything looked fucking dead. Probably because it was.

Fuck this shit. She jerked up the emergency brake and killed the engine. Slammed the door open, then shut. Stomped across the half-frozen muddy lot, odd bits of gravel and glass crunching beneath her boots. Eyes fixed on the burnt-out jaws scored into the surface of the MC’s chapter house door, she approached the belly of the beast -- and stepped into the Maw of Mayhem.


About the Author

AK Nevermore enjoys operating heavy machinery, freebases coffee, and gives up sarcasm for Lent every year. A Jane-of-all-trades, she’s a certified chef, restores antiques, and dabbles in beekeeping when she’s not reading voraciously or running down the dream in her beat-up camo Chucks.

Unable to ignore the voices in her head, and unwilling to become medicated, she writes Science Fiction and Fantasy full time.

She pays the bills editing, wielding a wicked hot pink pen and writing a column on SFF. She also belongs to the Authors Guild, is a chapter treasurer for the RWA, teaches creative writing, and on the rare occasion, sleeps.


Contact Links

Author’s Website

Author on Facebook

Author on Instagram

Author on Twitter

Follow AK Nevermore at Goodreads

Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok: @changelingpress

Pre-Order Today

RABT Book Tours & PR