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Sins of the Fire: Purgatorio

Sins of the Fire: Purgatorio
Phoenix Ward
(Sins of the Fire, #2)
Publication date: December 18th 2025
Genres: Fantasy, New Adult, Young Adult

The Church of New Haven extends its reach to those in need, however there are some lost souls that require more direct guidance, as their sins must be met with strong redirection. Thus, Jonah was created. Originally a man named M█████ ████, he contains over two-hundred thousand sinners. Until they reconcile with their offense to God, they are to fast and pray for their salvation for as long as it takes them to realize their folly, and call upon us.

The boy will be saved from the Dragon, even if he must waste away to understand their danger.

Kickstarter / Amazon

Sequel to:

Check out the Kickstarter here!!

EXCERPT:

This morning was a reminder that not only was sleep important, but so was waking up before 10am.

Between the heads of bed hair, scruffy clothes and flip-flops, there were black suits, floral dresses and sweet smelling perfume clouding the entrance of the store. Conversations were held in front of the doorway, carts were being pushed around like they were going out of style, and somehow that wasn’t the thing that made us second guess our trip to getting our travel items here. No, that all paled in comparison to the white van-bus with the words “Destiny Baptist Church”, written in Times New Roman on the side.

It wasn’t the church we had a problem with— it was the fact that it was Destiny, a local mega church that made their way through the doors. The same Destiny that would play on my grandmother’s radio, from preaching almost twelve hours of gospel to choirs capable of going seven octaves without any pause for breath. For whatever reason, they were here. Maybe it was some food-based event, or some donation cause, or maybe someone felt the ‘Holy Spirit’ invade them to help out a few families with groceries— either way, it was crowded. Worse yet, the congregants brought their kids too. One wrong turn with a cart and we’d be anointed with oil and made to play the burning bush. Imani and I both shared wary gazed with one another as the chatting church folk mingled with folks that just wanted to get their groceries.

I was the first one to take the initiative, but Imani was quick to hold me back from going too far.

“Hang on, no plan?” She asked, “We’re just going to go in?”

I shrugged, scooting aside as a family of three slipped past us. “Yeah. We just gotta make it through the doors. We’ll probably just grab baskets and split. When we’re done, we’ll meet right by the self-checkout, next to the gift cards.”

Her eyebrows looked like they’d fly away. She released her gentle hold of my arm. “I guess I shoulda known you’d know how to handle yourself, considering the stuff you dealt with.”

“Is it weird to admit that the cult shenanigans actually wilder compared to this?”

Imani sped ahead of me, playfully pushing me out of the way. “Just pray you don’t get lost in here!”

“Ah, pray! Good one.”

The doors opened, our opportunity for a clear entry inside revealed itself. With clergy folk standing by the door, we said our ‘Good mornings’ and kept it moving. Basket procured, we both split up and went our separate ways. I immediately made a beeline to the deli. Three pre-packaged sandwiches were perfect carry-on for the long trip. From there, I shot for the snacks aisle. Chips, protein bars, and those salty peanut butter cracker packages were all loaded up in the basket with haste. I said my ‘hello’s, and my ‘excuse me’s to any passerby, some people greet me, others regard me with a nod.

I wanted to be away from the churchgoers. They didn’t take up the store, but they were too permeated— too mixed in.

Too indistinguishable.

I wanted to pretend that everything was back to normal. That after all of the conflict, the fears, the crying, the fighting, things were safe again. Two months of nothing should have been enough to convince me, but I knew better. Every aisle I walked down, there was a body dressed in black or white—formal clothing or just plain clothes. Without touching Mysherra, I couldn’t tell which was a Havenite and which wasn’t. Even outside of the store, regular people, clerks, judges, beggars, anyone could be a Remnant out to get me, or one to watch me.

I put my hand in my pocket and stood in front of the line of power-drinks. My fingers grazed over the surface of the pen.

The hairs on my neck stood up. Goosebumps bristled along my arms. Piercing spheres of heat sandwiched both sides of my sides.

I didn’t dare turn my head—Peripherals attuned to the presence of two white-robed Remnants on opposite sides of the aisle.

“Kane.”

“I know.”

Slowly, I inched my arm out of my pocket, pen wedged between my fingers. They wouldn’t be able to fight me, not with eyes watching them from the ceiling. They didn’t want their secret to be discovered just as I didn’t.

“Do not acknowledge their presence,” Mysherra spoke to me, “Walk with me down the aisle.”

My legs walked me sideways. I didn’t want my back turned to either one of these things. The power drinks transitioned to the flavored powders. Flavored powders to sparkling sodas. Neither one of the beings made a move.

“Once you get close, fire me.”

Senses were screaming at me to run or fight the closer I got to the remnant. My heart was thudding against my ribs.

“Just a little closer.”

Light conjured at the tip of the pen. The burning spread along my entire right side.

“Okay, the fires should be quiet enough to—”

“Excuse me.”

Someone bumped against my back, cutting off my focus. “Ah, sorry about th—”

All I did was turn my head. I had seconds, milliseconds, microseconds to process the burgeoning man unlatching his jaw in front of me. Ropes of saliva separated a hollow light at the back of his throat. Flesh, wet, and acrid already surrounded me, sounds of the outside muffled by the remnant’s mouth closing behind me. I must have fired four times— twice to the ribcage roof of the mouth and twice towards the light. Footing vanished, the dark closed in, and the door to the outside slammed shut behind stone teeth.

And I fell.

Author Bio:

Phoenix Ward is an indie black writer, and educator from Philadelphia. He has worked in the field of education for over five years, teaching all grades Mathematics and English. When he’s not writing, he is composing music using Logic Pro X, or tutoring children on subjects they struggle in. Currently, he lives in Philadelphia with his dog and cat.

An avid world-builder, Phoenix has created many stories from youth to adulthood, but none have captivated him as much as his latest work Sins of the Fire, which combines his passion for storytelling with his deep understanding of human nature. He draws inspiration from the vibrant city life of Philadelphia and his own experiences as an educator, infusing his narratives with authenticity and depth.

In addition to his work as a writer and educator, Phoenix is committed to supporting young creatives in their journeys. He actively encourages students and adults alike to seek a way to create their own stories. Everyone has a message to share, and doing so in story is the best way to do so.

Website / Instagram


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I’m a Mom, a Grandmom, and a Veteran. Nothing scares me! That’s the saying on my favorite T Shirt. I’m enjoying life too much to let the little things slow me down. If you can’t tell from my Avatar, I live in Florida where I enjoy the sunshine and endure the hurricanes with good grace. Sometimes you have to take the bad with the good!

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Abducted

Abducted
J.S. Ash
(The Beast’s Burden Chronicles, #1)
Publication date: February 22nd 2026
Genres: New Adult, Science Fiction, Young Adult

Trapped aboard a living spacecraft hidden above her hometown, a teenage outcast must wage a one-girl war against ruthless alien mercenaries to save her best friend before the ship jumps into deep space.

A SHIP FULL OF ALIENS TOOK HER BEST FRIEND. THEY SHOULD’VE LEFT HER ON EARTH.

Abigail Ashby was raised to be a weapon by a dad convinced the world was on the brink of collapse. Then, inexplicably, he forced her into early retirement—aka high school.

These days, Abigail’s only battle is defending Harris, her outcast best friend who swears his parents were abducted by aliens. She’s secretly sure he’s delusional—right up until his bedroom explodes in amethyst light.

They wake up aboard the Beast’s Burden, an interstellar warship lurking above their town. Its leader, a sadistic warlord, seizes Harris as his prize, while Abigail slips away in the chaos—overlooked, underestimated.

Until she kills an alien to survive.

Now, hunted through the ship’s living corridors, Abigail must decide: retreat into the shadows, or unleash the lethal training she buried to wage a one-girl war and save everything she’s ever known… Because Harris isn’t just a hostage. He’s the trigger for humanity’s extinction.

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

“Wait—I’m sorry. Abigail, I didn’t mean that. Please don’t go.”

Abigail froze in her tracks, but it had nothing to do with Harris’s plea. An unearthly shriek had erupted, ricocheting endlessly around the room, and all the warmth had instantly drained from her body.

“What is that?” she asked, ice surging through her veins.

Harris looked like he had seen a ghost. “I have no idea, but it’s coming from—”

With a deafening crack, four dark spheres shot out from underneath the bed and slammed into the corners of the room. Abigail watched, petrified, as the spheres oozed apart, spreading to cover the walls in a thick layer of disgusting sludge.

“You’re seeing this, right?” she said, voice trembling.

Harris nodded slowly, and Miss Biscuits started howling.

The ghastly sound reached a new ear-piercing level as the sludge began crackling with unstable amethyst purple energy.

“We need to get out of here!” Abigail shouted. She dashed for the window, but the light glittering across its surface flared violently in response, and she recoiled, backing away slowly.

The shriek was becoming unbearable. Abigail could hardly hear herself think, let alone process what was happening.

“This way!” shouted Harris as he lunged for the bedroom door, but the pulsing glow surrounding the handle suddenly sparked, jumping eagerly to his outstretched hand.

Amethyst purple light rippled through Harris’s entire body, shining beneath his skin. Abigail watched in horror as an unnatural smile slowly twisted across his face.

“Harris?” she said cautiously.

Harris’s head swiveled toward Abigail and his morbid grin twisted into fear. The amethyst purple light erupted out of his skin, contorting him backwards into a jagged arch. His body was suddenly blasted onto the ceiling, held there for a moment by an invisible force before dropping sharply to the ground, the impact kicking up a cloud of dust from the hardwood.

“Harris!” Abigail screamed, rushing to his motionless body. This was a nightmare. Everywhere she looked the amethyst purple light was encroaching—over the ceiling, across the walls, and covering the floor, inching right for them. Abigail scrambled to grab Harris under his arms and used every ounce of her strength to drag him onto the bed, only just avoiding the energy as it engulfed the remainder of the room’s surfaces.

“Harris, wake up!” she shouted as she checked for a pulse.

“Abby!?” came a muffled cry.

She strained to see Taylor pounding outside the window, an uncharacteristically horrified expression on his face through the amethyst-colored glare. He took a step back and then charged, but the barrier flared the moment his shoulder made contact, and he was repelled away in a shower of shattered glass.

Abigail’s eyes darted around the room, her fear mounting as the shrieking hit yet another plateau. Blood pounded in her ears. “Harris, wake up. Please wake up!” she pleaded, her voice barely audible over the howling of Miss Biscuits and everything else.

The sludgy spheres had re-formed in the corners of the ceiling and they were pulsing erratically. They seemed to be the source of whatever was happening—what was happening?!—perhaps they could be shut down somehow… But how? Abigail grabbed Harris’s hand, hopelessly begging him to wake up, and her fingers made contact with a ripple of raised skin—the scar.

Abigail’s gaze snapped to the samurai sword hanging on the wall. Scrambling to her feet, she ripped it from its mount and unsheathed it. The gleaming blade appeared as sharp as it had all those years ago.

“Abby! Abby! What are you doing?!” Taylor’s voice cut through the chaos. He was back on his feet just outside the shattered window. He was holding up a small metallic object that Abigail couldn’t quite make out through the amethyst refraction. She didn’t have time for this. The high-pitched shriek was growing more and more deafening, the amethyst-colored light burning ever more severely. Instinctively, she knew it was now or never. She had to disrupt whatever was happening.

She frantically scanned the spheres, her entire body shaking. Though she had no clue this would work, the one in the corner by the door seemed like her best shot. “You can do this,” she said to herself, but she didn’t remotely believe it. Gathering all her strength, she sprinted towards the edge of the bed, leaping into the air with the hilt held firmly in her grasp. With a loud clang, the sword sliced through the sphere, miraculously penetrating the energy barrier and lodging in the wall.

As gravity pulled Abigail toward the floor, time seemed to slow, and she watched the damaged sphere start to skitter in and out of reality, spewing sparks in all directions like it was about to explode. The blinding amethyst light and eardrum-bursting shriek reached their crescendos just before Abigail hit the ground.

She felt a surge of pure agony, and then, there was nothing.

Author Bio:

J.S. Ash has spent over a decade working in media at one of the largest tech companies in the world, though his true love remains storytelling. His creative DNA was forged in the 90s—a blend of blockbuster action cinema, console gaming, and the high-stakes melodrama of the era’s teen soaps. He lives with his wife and daughter, who serve as the primary inspiration for the resilient, protective heroines at the heart of his stories.

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Had Me At Howdy

Had Me At Howdy
Mary Karlik
(A Hillside * Spring Creek Novel)
Publication date: November 22nd 2025
Genres: Comedy, Contemporary, Romance, Young Adult

Platinum credit card? Deactivated. New car? Sold. Best life ever? Canceled.

Thanks to my dad losing his job, we’ve ditched Chicago for Fumbuck, Texas—population: redneck. Now I’m living on a rundown farm, scrubbing dishes, and driving a rusty pickup. Worst of all? I’m stuck working alongside a cowboy.

But this Cinderella isn’t giving up. I’ll claw my way back to the luxe life I left behind—and no one, not even infuriatingly chill, stupidly handsome Austin McCoy is going to stop me. Even if he does make feeding the chickens weirdly… enjoyable.

She thinks she’s just passing through. I’m hoping she stays.
I kind of feel for the Quinn sisters. City girls don’t belong in Spring Creek—but Kelsey? There’s more to her than designer labels and eye rolls. When she forgets to be angry, I see it—like the way her eyes light up when she feeds the chickens.

Now all I have to do is convince her the guy she really wants is me, not some rich dude taking her to a ball in Chicago.

Content Warning: This work contains a subplot involving death, grief, and an off-page instance of date rape. While these events are not depicted directly, they are referenced and may be distressing to some readers.

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

The universe had completely crapped on Kelsey Quinn’s life.

She dabbed at her eyes, blew her nose, and wadded up the tissue before dropping it to the pile on the seat next to her. Pressing her forehead against the car window, she watched the scenery fly by at seventy miles per hour. They passed Bob’s Stay and Go combination gas station—fast food restaurant—hotel, followed by some weird concrete starship-shaped pizza parlor. Next, three-foot fluorescent letters screamed about redemption across a junkyard fence surrounding rusted pieces of mangled metal. The few words of scripture painted there weren’t going change her fate. Her dad was in the driver’s seat and they were heading straight for the armpit of Texas.

With a sigh she slumped against the seat and tried not to think about the boyfriend who’d been ripped from her life, or the best friend she’d been forced to leave behind. But it wasn’t just her forced exile from Drew and Zoe. She’d lost her identity. At St. Monica’s, she knew who she was and where she fit in. It was her senior year, the year she’d looked forward to for as long as she was in school. They had taken it away with less thought than the car they’d sold one afternoon while she and Zoe were shopping. None of it was her fault. She was a victim of her dad’s incompetence on one hand and her sister’s immorality on the other.

Her dad exited onto a two-lane highway where they were greeted by a faded, Welcome to Hillside Texas, Population 5000, sign. They slowed to a crawl as they entered the town. At a four-way stop her mom screeched, “Oh my God Tom, look at the cute little diner. We’re all starving, let’s stop before we go to the house.”

“Sounds good to me. Jack’s not expecting us for another couple of hours anyway.” Dad angled the Infinity between two pickup trucks and turned off the engine.

The diner was nestled in the center of a row of dilapidated two story buildings. Early Bird Café was painted in bright blue letters across the glass. Kelsey pulled her compact mirror from her purse and studied her reflection. She’d been crying for two days, no amount of makeup magic would fix her swollen red eyes. It didn’t matter. She didn’t care about this place or these people. She sure as heck didn’t care what they thought about her. She shoved the mirror back into her purse.

Her younger sister, Ryan, looked all wide-eyed and curious. And worse, she actually looked excited to investigate this hick little town. Why not? It was her fault they were in this mess in the first place. Her parents would have been justified to ship Ryan off to some kind of school for troubled kids. But no—Quinns don’t give up on their own. Everybody had to suffer because Ryan couldn’t say no to drugs or boys.

Mackenzie, Kelsey’s youngest sister, flipped her compact gymnast’s body from the third seat to the back seat nailing Ryan in the shoulder with her foot.

“Watch it!” Ryan drew her fist back, but before she could get the hit off Mackenzie flashed a cherub smile and released a powder sugar apology. Yeah. That wasn’t an accident. Kelsey almost smiled when she saw foot impact with shoulder. Mackenzie had been fairly silent about the ruin Ryan’s exploits had done to her life. Apparently, she had her limits too.

Author Bio:

Join Mary’s newsletter: https://maryjwilson.com/contact/

Mary Karlik (also writing as Mary J. Wilson) combines her Texas roots with her Scottish heritage to write happily-ever-afters from Texas to Scotland.

Mary has five indie-published contemporary young adult romance novels and two fantasy novels.

Mary earned her MFA in Writing Popular Fiction from Seton Hill University, has a B.S. degree from Texas A&M University, and is currently studying Scottish Gaelic at Sabhal Mòr Ostaig in Skye, Scotland. She is also a certified, professional ski instructor and a Registered Nurse.

Mary is an active member of Contemporary Romance Writers, Romance Writers of America, and Dallas Area Romance Authors. Married to a Scott, Mary lives in both and Scotland and Texas.

Website / Goodreads / Instagram / Facebook / Newsletter / Bookbub


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