Bonfire is HERE!!
We're also running another giveaway, this time for a $20 gift card, so make sure to scroll down to the rafflecopter. Bonfire's only $0.99 for a limited time, and we hope you enjoy it. Thanks so much, and Happy Holidays!
Reviews
I'll add to these as reviews come in...
Just Love Romance release day review!
Bayou Book Junkies release day review!
Molly Lolly release day review!
Magnolia Reviews!
The Novel Approach review!
Diverse Readers review!
See Sadie Read review!
Love Bytes Reviews!
Kam's Place review!
The Jeep Diva review!
Rainbow Gold Reviews!
Joyfully Jay review!
Read ALL the reviews on Goodreads!
Read ALL the reviews on Amazon!
Blog Tour Posts
Because Two Men are Better than One - November 11 - guest post & giveaway
Bonkers About Books - November 14 - guest post and giveaway
Prism Book Alliance - November 14 - guest post and giveaway
Boy meets Boy Reviews - November 15 - excerpt and giveaway
Bayou Book Junkies - November 15 - guest post and giveaway
Love Bytes Reviews - November 15 - guest post and giveaway
Molly Lolly - November 15 - (sweetly romantic) guest post and giveaway
Joyfully Jay - November 16 - guest post and giveaway
Diverse Readers - November 18 - guest post and giveaway
The Jeep Diva - November 18 - guest post and giveaway
It's About the Book - November 19 - guest post and giveaway
Magnolia Reviews - November 19 - interview and giveaway
MS Kay Blog - November 20 - guest post and giveaway
Also, don't forget to check out our GIVEAWAY!! a Rafflecopter giveaway
Silent night, holy hell.
Thaddeus and Sarasija are spending the holidays on the bayou, and while the vampire's idea of Christmas cheer doesn't quite match his assistant's, they're working on a compromise. Before they can get the tree trimmed, they're interrupted by the appearance of the feu follet. The ghostly lights appear in the swamp at random and lead even the locals astray.
When the townsfolk link the phenomenon to the return of their most reclusive neighbor, suspicion falls on Thaddeus. These lights aren't bringing glad tidings, and if Thad and Sara can't find their source, the feu follet might herald a holiday tragedy for the whole town.
This holiday novella can be enjoyed alone or as book 1.5 of the Hours of the Night Series. Bonfiretakes place the December after the events in Vespers.
Thaddeus and Sarasija are spending the holidays on the bayou, and while the vampire's idea of Christmas cheer doesn't quite match his assistant's, they're working on a compromise. Before they can get the tree trimmed, they're interrupted by the appearance of the feu follet. The ghostly lights appear in the swamp at random and lead even the locals astray.
When the townsfolk link the phenomenon to the return of their most reclusive neighbor, suspicion falls on Thaddeus. These lights aren't bringing glad tidings, and if Thad and Sara can't find their source, the feu follet might herald a holiday tragedy for the whole town.
This holiday novella can be enjoyed alone or as book 1.5 of the Hours of the Night Series. Bonfiretakes place the December after the events in Vespers.
Dorothy ran Pinky’s, a small sundries store with a
restaurant in back, the only place to buy groceries within ten miles. In her
day, she’d been widely acknowledged for her beauty, though I had always
respected her for her intelligence and wit. If she recognized the similarities
between me and the Mr. Dupont who’d lived in the River house when she was a
girl, she’d never mentioned it. We had an accord, Dorothy and I, one I would be
reluctant to break.
While the phone was ringing, I noticed two paper shopping bags in the corner of the room. The phone had just enough cord for me to reach the closest bag, but before I could open it, Dorothy answered.
“This is Thaddeus Dupont.”
“I guess you got my message.” Dorothy sounded annoyed, as if she’d rather I hadn’t called.
“Yes. What can I do for you?” I opened the bag and lifted out a glossy black box. Christmas lights. Surprised, I bit my lip against a sharp surge of irritation.
“Well,” she said, “those lights are back.”
Confused, I set aside the first box and lifted out another. “Lights?” More lights?
“You know what I’m talking about. The swamp lights. Back in my grandmother’s day, she’d say Old Ivey was out looking for someone who got murdered.” She paused, and he could almost hear her collecting her thoughts. “Some call ’em the feu follet, and people been following ’em to find the treasure but getting lost in the swamp instead.”
I lifted a third and then a fourth box of Christmas lights out of the bag. “And what has this to do with me?” Fueled by exasperation, my tone was sharper than normal, but what was Sara thinking? A single ornament was one thing, but I never decorated for the holidays, especially with multicolored, LED, synchronized flashers.
“Maybe nothing, Thaddeus, but after the troubles you all had last summer, I figured I better say something in case Old Ivey’s looking for someone you know.”
I carefully set down the box of lights. “I can assure you, Miss Dorothy, I have not murdered anyone and stashed their body in the swamp.”
She paused for a good long while. “No, no, I suppose you haven’t.” The stiffness left her voice, and she exhaled softly. “But something’s going on, and you know how some people get carried away.”
Sara wandered out of the kitchen, his smile brightening when he saw I’d discovered his secret. “Things will die down. They always do.” I knew that from experience. As a solitary man who kept to himself, I periodically came under scrutiny from the neighborhood. There would be talk, and the bravest would come down the river to my house and poke around. My assistant, or maybe Mayette, would allay their fears, and the next good bit of gossip would distract them.
She snorted. “Well maybe you should, I don’t know, see if you can find where those witch lights are coming from.”
Now we’d come to the root of her problem. She wanted me to investigate. Sara pulled one of the strings of lights out of its box and plugged it in, flooding the room with color. I blinked hard against the glare. “You think that will help?”
“Yep. So far, everyone who’s gone missing has turned back up, but if they didn’t, well, that’d be real bad.”
“Look!” Sara’s enthusiasm bled through his whispered comment. He pressed a button so the lights started flashing. “They work.”
I waved off Sara’s laughter. “I agree. Thank you for the information, and I’ll let you know what I find out.”
She thanked me, grudgingly, and ended the call. I hung up slowly, considering the best approach to take.
“You don’t mind, do you, Thaddeus?” Sara unplugged the string of lights and began packing them away. “I wanted to surprise you, put some lights on the porch and maybe on the banister. We don’t have to do the whole Christmasy-Christmas thing, but the lights are pretty.”
Did I mind? Yes, in theory, though when faced with the hope in his eyes, I found the idea of decorating might not be so intolerable. “We do have a bauble.” I sighed, rubbing at the tension in my neck. “I think, Sara, you could ask me to hang the Christmas star in the heavens, and I would find a way to accomplish the task.”
“You’re crazy.” He ducked, hiding behind a shield of hair.
Unable to resist the temptation, I crossed the room and wrapped my arms around him. “You may be right.”
While the phone was ringing, I noticed two paper shopping bags in the corner of the room. The phone had just enough cord for me to reach the closest bag, but before I could open it, Dorothy answered.
“This is Thaddeus Dupont.”
“I guess you got my message.” Dorothy sounded annoyed, as if she’d rather I hadn’t called.
“Yes. What can I do for you?” I opened the bag and lifted out a glossy black box. Christmas lights. Surprised, I bit my lip against a sharp surge of irritation.
“Well,” she said, “those lights are back.”
Confused, I set aside the first box and lifted out another. “Lights?” More lights?
“You know what I’m talking about. The swamp lights. Back in my grandmother’s day, she’d say Old Ivey was out looking for someone who got murdered.” She paused, and he could almost hear her collecting her thoughts. “Some call ’em the feu follet, and people been following ’em to find the treasure but getting lost in the swamp instead.”
I lifted a third and then a fourth box of Christmas lights out of the bag. “And what has this to do with me?” Fueled by exasperation, my tone was sharper than normal, but what was Sara thinking? A single ornament was one thing, but I never decorated for the holidays, especially with multicolored, LED, synchronized flashers.
“Maybe nothing, Thaddeus, but after the troubles you all had last summer, I figured I better say something in case Old Ivey’s looking for someone you know.”
I carefully set down the box of lights. “I can assure you, Miss Dorothy, I have not murdered anyone and stashed their body in the swamp.”
She paused for a good long while. “No, no, I suppose you haven’t.” The stiffness left her voice, and she exhaled softly. “But something’s going on, and you know how some people get carried away.”
Sara wandered out of the kitchen, his smile brightening when he saw I’d discovered his secret. “Things will die down. They always do.” I knew that from experience. As a solitary man who kept to himself, I periodically came under scrutiny from the neighborhood. There would be talk, and the bravest would come down the river to my house and poke around. My assistant, or maybe Mayette, would allay their fears, and the next good bit of gossip would distract them.
She snorted. “Well maybe you should, I don’t know, see if you can find where those witch lights are coming from.”
Now we’d come to the root of her problem. She wanted me to investigate. Sara pulled one of the strings of lights out of its box and plugged it in, flooding the room with color. I blinked hard against the glare. “You think that will help?”
“Yep. So far, everyone who’s gone missing has turned back up, but if they didn’t, well, that’d be real bad.”
“Look!” Sara’s enthusiasm bled through his whispered comment. He pressed a button so the lights started flashing. “They work.”
I waved off Sara’s laughter. “I agree. Thank you for the information, and I’ll let you know what I find out.”
She thanked me, grudgingly, and ended the call. I hung up slowly, considering the best approach to take.
“You don’t mind, do you, Thaddeus?” Sara unplugged the string of lights and began packing them away. “I wanted to surprise you, put some lights on the porch and maybe on the banister. We don’t have to do the whole Christmasy-Christmas thing, but the lights are pretty.”
Did I mind? Yes, in theory, though when faced with the hope in his eyes, I found the idea of decorating might not be so intolerable. “We do have a bauble.” I sighed, rubbing at the tension in my neck. “I think, Sara, you could ask me to hang the Christmas star in the heavens, and I would find a way to accomplish the task.”
“You’re crazy.” He ducked, hiding behind a shield of hair.
Unable to resist the temptation, I crossed the room and wrapped my arms around him. “You may be right.”
Only $0.99 for a limited time!!
About Irene Preston
Irene Preston has to write romances, after all she is living
one. As a starving college student, she
met her dream man who whisked her away on a romantic honeymoon across Europe . Today they
live in the beautiful hill country outside of Austin , Texas
Where to find Irene
Facebook | Twitter | Pinterest | Mailing List | Goodreads
About Liv Rancourt
I write romance: m/f, m/m, and v/h, where the h is for human and the v is for vampire … or sometimes demon … I lean more towards funny than angst. When I’m not writing I take care of tiny premature babies or teenagers, depending on whether I’m at home or at work. My husband is a soul of patience, my dog’s cuteness is legendary, and we share the homestead with three ferrets. Who steal things. Because they’re brats.
I write romance: m/f, m/m, and v/h, where the h is for human and the v is for vampire … or sometimes demon … I lean more towards funny than angst. When I’m not writing I take care of tiny premature babies or teenagers, depending on whether I’m at home or at work. My husband is a soul of patience, my dog’s cuteness is legendary, and we share the homestead with three ferrets. Who steal things. Because they’re brats.
Where
to find Liv
Facebook | Twitter | Mailing List | Goodreads
Woo hoo - congratulations on the launch!!
ReplyDeleteThanks Ellen!
Delete