In a neo-Japanese inspired future, comes a cyberpunk epic with a razor-sharp time travel edge.
Kage Carnifex never bleeds easily. He’s stronger than the slickest cybernetics. And the chip in his brain whispers the value of violence.
Kage is the last product of a dead corporation. When he is scraped off the streets by another megacorp, Kage plunges headlong into an unforgiving world of unbreakable contracts, absolute loyalty, and soulful devotion beyond what he thought possible.
Yet, the psychotic butchers from his shrouded past cannot be escaped forever, nor their malicious masters denied Kage’s life. Blood is owed and carnage is coming to carve everything Kage loves apart.
And the secret to surviving may lie within a device Kage can’t control; the chrono-disruptor — a time machine — but time is a fatal thing…
Return to the high-octane, ultra-violent world of the 25th century: where cybernetics, bionetics, and bionics blur the lines between people, robots, and beasts; where a secret sinister syndicate play the strings of apocalypse; and where the river of time runs with a fatalistic flow.
Honour-bound, tough as titanium, Kage Carnifex follows two paths that twist his head and heart. One turns him towards the past for love and strife in the climate-ravaged steppe of Norvono. The other fires him into the future under a new captain and a new strategy to devastate Psychosisium.
But seeing the truth of his destiny and origin is barbed with manipulation and betrayal. The hologram ghost of an archenemy promises answers to avoid armageddon. While the malfunctioning chip inside Kage’s head seeks greater control of his body.
Facing off against temporal assassins, teleporters, and butcher-bots has never been deadlier. Fortified by samurai-instincts and bulletproof flesh, Kage plunges into the depths of this neon nightmare — where good deeds make devils and the worst make gods.
N J M Hemfrey has degrees in Philosophy and Sociology, and Information and Library Studies, and is an administrator for a charity. He lives with his fiancé Kasha, who is the best individual to spend existence with, whether in lockdown, the apocalypse, or more normal things like the cinema, or wandering around old castles. He is an utter movie, book, video game and comic enthusiast, especially for the science fiction, fantasy, and horror genres. One of his greatest frustrations is that there is not enough time in the universe to ever finish the lists of things he wants to do.
Ciarán Donnelly is ready to leave his past behind and concentrate on his new life, but his past may not be finished with him. His dreams have returned with a vengeance, and this time they’re telling him Ruadhán, the long-dead priest who entombed him fifteen hundred years before, is threatening to kidnap his unborn twins. Of course, his dream interpretation leaves a lot to be desired, especially when it comes to those he loves.
As if the dreams are not bad enough, his anxiety over them is causing stress on his new marriage, which is the last thing Caitlin needs in her current condition. The twins are on the way, and everyone advises him the dreams stem from his own insecurities over becoming a father. After all, Ruadhán was the chief priest, a member of the high council, loyal to his goddess unto death. What are the chances he suffered the same fate as Ciarán and survived fifteen centuries?
The theory sounds reasonable, and he’s happy to accept it, until Aodhán comes across an empty tomb in the Hills of ár Sinsear that looks as though it may have been occupied at some point. Could Ruadhán have survived after all? And if so, where is he now? To complicate the issue, Aodhán stumbles across another piece of information that could alter the possible meaning of his brother’s dreams. But will Ciarán manage to put the pieces together before it’s too late, or will he lose his family to an ancient adversary?
Andrea Matthews is the pseudonym for Inez Foster, a historian and librarian who loves to read and write and search around for her roots, genealogical speaking. In fact, it was while doing some genealogical research that she stumbled across the history of the Border reivers. The idea for her first novel came to mind almost at once, gradually growing into the Thunder on the Moor series. And the rest is history, as they say.
She’s made mistakes and paid the price, but Deidre Chisolm is no quitter. She’ll never again be a fool for a man, not even her gorgeous new neighbor with his haunted eyes and strange accent. She’ll be friendly, but nothing more. Lachlann has to go back to fourteenth-century Scotland. He can’t forsake his family, his son. But when a beautiful, kind, funny lady buys the house next door, he’s never been so drawn to anyone in his life. Would she believe his story? After years of struggling through nightmares and flashbacks, headaches and illiteracy, dare he ask her to help him return?
For me, playing is the best — playing outdoors in nature or in my garden, experimenting in the kitchen, spending time with those I love. I also enjoy disappearing into a good book, attempting crafts, learning, writing, exploring, discovering. I especially like to mix it up and have yet to perfect any of it; and I’ve come to realize that perfection’s not the point. It’s all wonderfully fun. That’s the point!
I prefer authentic and natural, be it food, lifestyle, people. I passionately enjoy both history and science, and certainly sociology to a degree, and I am most truly a romantic.
My husband and I have been married for over forty years. We reside near Houston, Texas, surrounded by loved ones. We have a blast with our little grandchildren.
It takes a Warrior Angel and Native American Shifter to save the past and create their future.
Angel Killian Dugan’s annual trip to the family castle in Scotland is shattered by the arrival of Legion Commander North. Killian’s skills are needed for an urgent time travel assignment. A rogue demon has escaped back in time. He must discover the why and where then stop the demon before it can damage the past and change the future.
Killian’s girlfriend Chinoah Grace, a Native American shapeshifter is included in the mission, which takes them to the wild west town of Wylder, Wyoming in 1878. She will have her hands full fitting in and making friends. Nothing is as it seems. They encounter visions, spirit quests, and a mysterious shaman. On top of it all, blending in as a blacksmith is more physically difficult than he imagined. But not as challenging as keeping his hands off his undercover wife. Will they complete their assignment or run out of time?
Tena Stetler is a best-selling author of award winning paranormal romance with an over-active imagination. She wrote her first vampire romance as a tween, to the chagrin of her mother and the delight of her friends. Colorado is home; shared with her husband, a brilliant Chow Chow, a spoiled parrot and a forty-five-year-old box turtle. When she’s not writing, her time is spent kayaking, camping, hiking, biking or just relaxing in the great Colorado outdoors.
Her books tell tales of magical kick-ass women and mystical alpha males that dare to love them. Travel, adventure, and a bit of mystery flourish in her books along with a few companion animals to round out the tales.
She thinks he’s crazy, he thinks she’s a witch.
Of course, they fall in love
Time Lies by Rowena Tisdale Publication date: March 4th 2022 Genres: Adult, Romance, Time-Travel
She thinks he’s crazy, he thinks she’s a witch. Of course, they fall in love.
Shannon Kellogg is a spoiled heiress. She’s shallow and self-centered, but after her third divorce, she vows to become a better person. Practicing kindness and empathy is her prescription for self-improvement.
As if on cue, a young man with a strange accent, dressed as a colonial cosplayer appears in her yard during a thunderstorm. He’s lost and confused, and something about him tugs at her heart. She sees an opportunity on her path to change, and decides to help him.
It turns out to be more of a challenge than she anticipated. Azariah Scott was unwillingly tossed through time and the only way to help him is to send him back to 1750. She doesn’t know how to honor her commitment to him; despite his belief she’s a witch, she doesn’t believe in magic.
As they work together to find a gateway to the past, love blossoms, and Shannon comes to regret her promise.
He cried out, and jerked away from her outstretched hand, falling to the floor, cracking his head on the corner of the island. He went still.
“Well, damn,” she muttered, closing the door.
A puddle had formed where he’d been standing. Much to her relief, a glance down confirmed water, not blood, covered the floor. Barefoot, she stepped gingerly on the well-polished tiles.
Shannon squatted next to him, picking up his wrist and checking for a pulse. His eyes were closed, but his lips were moving. Unable to hear what he was saying, she leaned in, her nose crinkling with distaste as she got closer. Such a heavy costume in the hot weather required far more deodorant. Holding her breath, she put her ear near his mouth.
“I am cursed…”
Straightening, she pursed her lips. The whole situation was bizarre enough to be intriguing. She was curious about this strange man. What was his story? An actual interest in another was a bit foreign to her. A sign, no doubt, she was already becoming a better person.
Okay, but what did she do now? If she called the police, first, they would send someone to her house. It might be the same hot officer who had come a couple of months ago, and after assuring her no bobcat lurked in her backyard, had left a few hours later with more than a grateful “thank you.”
He’d come back once or twice, to play Criminal & Lady Cop, but she’d soon tired of him. Officer CuffMe was the last person she wanted to see when she had an unknown young man passed out in her kitchen. Awkward and uncomfortable at best, of questionable legality at worst.
Second, it would be straight to the psych ward if the police got involved. Probably the right call, but if he were whisked away, she’d never learn his story. Making up her mind, she strode decisively to the liquor cabinet. Bryce had kept an extensive, and expensive bar.
“Brandy, brandy, brandy,” she chanted as she skimmed the labels. She smiled as she wrapped her fingers around the neck of a bottle. She’d read enough romances with bare-chested sea captains on the cover to know when the heroine fainted dead away, the thing to revive her was a bit of eau-de-vie. Singing a Spanish song about brandy she opened her crystal cupboard.
The lines never said anything like, “He poured four ounces of cognac into an eight ounce snifter and lifted it to her trembling lips.” It couldn’t be much. The unfortunate lass was usually “spluttering and gagging at the first taste of the amber fluid.”
Settling next to the stranger on the floor, she assumed the Lotus position. He had stopped mumbling, but was still quite pale. She set the glass down, then shifted to her best approximation of “cradling his head in her lap,” and wondered how the mechanics of this worked.
She decided to check his pockets before reviving him. If she found his license, the mystery would be solved. His apparel was odd, she wasn’t sure where to look. A pat down revealed a muscular body but no phone or wallet in the expected places. There was a slight bulge over his chest. In the small pouch she pulled out, she found some old coins, and some paper which might be foreign currency, though she didn’t recognize it. There was also a large, intricate antique key. None of this was helpful. She slid the purse back into the concealed pocket.
Putting a hand on the back of his head, Shannon, surprised by the weight, carefully lifted it and angled him, as best she could, into a drinking posture. Then, she brought the glass to his mouth—
a very sensuous mouth—
and poured the tiniest bit of alcohol over his lips. She laughed when he actually spluttered.
His head jerked, and his eyes flew open. Shannon drew back her hand, brandy splashing over the rim. She dropped his head, which unfortunately did not land back in her lap, but thumped heavily to the floor. A grimace of pain crossed his face, and she felt a tinge of guilt.
He fixed her with a baleful stare.
“What do you want of me?” he asked.
Rowena Tisdale was born and raised in Michigan, sort of all over the state. As an adult, she moved south to Texas, and after living there for a bit, headed east, eventually returning home to her beloved “Mitten State.” She now resides nearby her favorite city, Detroit, with her son and a pair of feline companions.
A reader of romance from an early age, she remains an avid fan of the genre. Over the years, she began to wonder why the feisty heroines she’s always loved haven’t aged with her. Her stories are about older women, because she knows romance is not solely the purview of youth. Whether a single mother in her 30s, a crone who makes goddesses smile, or a spoiled socialite in her 40s, Rowena writes female characters who have the beauty and confidence of experience. She writes across genres, romance, chick-lit, and women’s fiction, but all her novels are love stories.