Monday, December 30, 2013

Book Spotlight ~ Triad of Power: First Quest by Denysé Bridger

First Quest

Available Now at:
Book One of Three: During the time before the Great Forbidding was created, it was believed the defiance of the Renegades could be contained. To that end, the Council of Power called upon their Ancient Gods for assistance. In response, the Gods ordered creation of the Triad of Power–three swords, each one imbued with the essence of a gift unique to those who would wield the weapons as the Guardians of Foress. Like all magic, each crafted blade contained the driving sorcery of its creator–not all wizards are immune to the weaknesses of men, and within the Triad, conflict itself was bred without conscious intent or knowledge. So begins the legend, and the epic fantasy of the TRIAD OF POWER.


As contented peace steeped the air around them, and they were able to breathe in near silence again, Sherindal contemplated her surroundings. On her knees, with the Prince of Ember still sheathed within her, she had never known a moment of more perfect serenity and completion. Her senses hummed with awareness of everything: the texture of the bed linen, cool silk, caressing her heated skin, the subtle patterns swirling amid the tapestries that hung on the stone walls of the bedchamber, even the heavy scent of candle wax added another layer of appreciation to her happiness.

“You really are magnificent, Sher,” Rienn whispered, his arms wrapped around her, drawing her close.

She leaned to one side, looped her arm around his neck and drew his mouth to hers in a kiss that was filled with gentle passion.

“I do love you, Rienn.”

Rienn nodded. His hands on her waist moved her. She shivered as he slipped free of her. “I’ll order a bath and some food,” he told her.

She grabbed his wrist and shook her head. “Later. I want you to hold me.”

Rienn stretched out and pulled her down to him, spooning her body to his when he pressed her back to his chest.

They’d only slept for minutes when the huge doors of the Prince’s chambers were flung open and the spacious room was invaded by numerous men, all bearing swords.


The word was a warning, and Sherindal slithered from the bed when he released her. She scooped up her weapon as she rolled, oblivious to her nakedness. She whirled to face the first rush of the attack. Somewhere through the early morning hours since they’d made love, Rienn had thought to retrieve his breeches, she noted from the corner of her eye. He had managed to gain his weapon, and they fought, back to back.

Sherindal hissed in fury and pain when the second of the men who engaged her slipped past her defense and inflicted a wound near her waist. It was a surface injury and she quickly rewarded him by slicing off his sword hand. Howling in agony, he toppled back, then fled as he recovered his footing several feet away from her.

Rienn had killed two men and was about to run through the third when Sherindal’s voice filled the room, and the blade she wielded, Huntor, rose with her song. The attackers froze momentarily, those two who remained, and she smiled when the weapon cut them down, then drifted back to her outstretched hand, coming to rest in her grasp with near peaceful ease.

“Your blood-thirsty weapon has been sated nicely this morning,” Rienn observed with a tense glance at the gleaming blade.

“Who are they?” she asked, her tone cold as she met his gaze.

“Why would you assume I know?” he retorted instantly. “This is hardly what I would consider an invigorating start to the day!”

“Really?” One eyebrow rose in emphasis of her sardonic tone. “It is one of the more interesting diversions you might have provided, Rienn.” Her laughter was faintly mocking, and not a little bit ironic.

Rienn’s handsome features suffused with rage and he reached for her, gripped her bare arm with fingers that dug into her flesh like steel bands.

“You can be an evil bitch,” he whispered darkly.

Sherindal smiled, and this time it was genuine. She nodded, kissed his chin, the closest she could get to his mouth from her disadvantaged height, then she gasped as a fiery lance reminded her of the slash near her left hip.

“Enough, Rienn,” she said.

He released her, scooped her into his arms, and placed her in the center of the feathered mattress of his bed. He looked closely at the injury, yanked the bell pull, and then went to the heavy wardrobe at the far end of the chamber.

His guards were rushing along the corridor when he returned to the bed and helped Sherindal into one of his linen shirts. She bit her bottom lip against another stab of pain and laughed in macabre amusement when she spotted the duo who entered the room.

“They look rested enough, my love,” she muttered.

Rienn glared at her, then turned an even fiercer visage to the men who should have prevented the assault in his private rooms.

“Get them out of here, then report to Radisan.”

“Radisan will no doubt beat the life out of them, Rienn,” she remarked. “Your brother is overzealous when it comes to punishment. He enjoys watching other people writhe, especially when he is the orchestrator of their anguish.”

“Would you rather I reward them for their lapse?” he snapped. “We could have been killed, Sher!”

“Highly unlikely. Get me my own clothes,” she requested. “I want to dress.”

“You’re not going anywhere,” he warned from his position near the door. As the two guards dragged the last of the fallen men into the hall, he slammed the door into place and speared his lover with a look that frequently froze men in their tracks. Sherindal rose from the bed to retrieve her belongings.


She sighed and began to apply salve from the small medicine kit she carried. When the wound was smeared with the peach-colored cream, she wrapped clean linen around her hips, then continued to dress. Dark brown trousers, forest green tunic, black boots and vest, and lastly the sword, in a sheath that she wore at her back, the glittering hilt visible between her shoulders when she faced the Prince again.

“Rienn,” she said gently. “I would not leave you if it wasn’t necessary. This is something I must do. I have no choice!”

Rienn’s unusual eyes flared with anger, and he strode toward her, stopping when her head moved so that she might hold his look. He towered over her, and often used that height to keep her off balance when they were this close. She had told him that he was a drug she was addicted to, and the sensuality of their passion had grown with their aging. She would have made a perfect queen, but his father had long ago threatened Rienn with banishment if he took Sherindal as his wife. The old man had said on many occasions he would hold the throne forever from Rienn if he dared to believe a witch would be an appropriate queen for Ember. Sherindal seemed more than happy to be his consort, with none of the advantages that position could have offered.

Ironically, by his own decree, Rienn’s father had also insured he’d never have the grandchildren he desired, for Rienn would not betray his love for Sherindal by accepting another woman in his bed. The King believed that to be one more proof of Sher’s sorcery, her hold on the oldest son of Ember’s Royal House. Love was an emotion the old man mocked and disdained, and one he had never understood. Rienn’s mother had died many years earlier, and they had been closer than many sons and mothers. They had been friends and confidants. The Queen had approved completely of Rienn’s choice of mate.

“I have no choice.”

Available Now at:

AUTHOR NOTE: A few years ago I released a book called Royal Consort. It was a fun title, and combined my love of fantasy with my love of romance with an erotic touch. Somehow, I never found the right publisher for the book, and it just sort of died. Back in January, I requested return of the book, and it has since undergone a major revision to become book one in a trilogy. THE TRIAD OF POWER: First Quest was released December 22nd, by Crimson Frost Books. When they contracted the book, they asked if I would consider writing two companion pieces for it, so it’s become my first trilogy. I'm really enjoying this story now that's it's been revised and edited, and leading to two more adventures. I hope you enjoy a peek at it, too!

"Live the Romance, Become the Fantasy..."
** Predators & Editors Best Author 2012 **

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Thursday, December 26, 2013

Book Spotlight ~ COMING SOON: Elemental Earth by Kinsey Knight

Genre: Fantasy YA

Elemental Earth

Coming Soon

My name is Trinity Liathain, typical human teenager to many. But reality is I’m a young fae, split between two very different worlds. Just as I find a guy who I can be myself with, my little corner of Blue Cove erupts in drama I’m not prepared for. The gauntlet to a war that shouldn’t be mine is at my door, bringing creatures that terrify and mesmerize me. I’m visited by ancient forces who for some reason, think I’m the answer to another dimension’s problems. They grant me tremendous power to protect myself. From what, you ask? If my short journey through life has taught me anything, it’s that the people closest to you, make the worst enemies.

Read more about Elemental Earth here:

A feather-soft sensation grazed my hand. A long deep breath didn’t fortify me when I craned my neck. I tore my hand away.
        A tarantula the size of a football crawled over my book, clear liquid dripping from its oversized fangs. Where the venom touched, chunks of my book disintegrated.
        The chair careened behind me, as I jumped to my feet. Adrian’s growl shook the windows, the only warning of my stupid mistake. He reached for me too late. Mr. Conevetti’s stick arm shot around my waist, and dragged me over the desk.
        “You can’t ssstop me.” His mechanical screech resonated through my eardrums. “He wantsss her.”
        I choked back a scream as he gave up his glamour, revealing a horrific face caught between an alien and an ant. I flailed, punching him in the neck, shoulder—anything my fist blindly reached. His rock hard exoskeleton prevented his injury. Cuts broke out over my knuckles.
        “Put her down,” Adrian snapped, every pound the Goblin royal.
        “Trinity…” My name coming from those pincers serving for a mouth was the single most horrible thing I’ve ever heard. He hissed at Adrian, who circled us.
        I was not, nor ever would I be a damsel in distress, waiting for her prince to save her. Not in this life time, or the next. I sought any kink in his armor. I elbowed the bug man in the face, gritting my teeth as his pincers sliced into my flesh.
        He released me with a surprised squeal. I landed wrong on my feet. My knees ached, but I ran. My momentum propelled me toward the terminals. I jumped, my foot landing on the chair. I was airborne, flying over the grotesque spider and the computers, thrashing awkwardly on my descent. The back of my head slammed against the opposite terminal, changing my trajectory.  I hit the floor, twisting my ankle. The shock of pain on top of everything else forced a gasp from me.
        The spider dropped, scuttling across the floor.
        “You all right?” Adrian yelled. Under the row of desks, only legs were visible—a pair of jean clad ending in thick biker boots, and two sticks in loafers.
        “I’m good!” I lied through my teeth.
        The spider scurried closer. I ripped a keyboard out of its USB port, wielding it as a weapon. The thing paused.
        “Come on. I don’t have all day.”
        It jerked, as if it understood. It crept around me, I suppose seeking a weak spot. It lunged, and I swung. I hit the rounded, furry body across the room like a baseball. It hit the window with a sickening thump, and didn’t move again. The acidic poison from it fangs ate through the glass in watery line. The rancid smell intensified.
        I peeked over the walls of the desk. Adrian darted and weaved, the skill of a fighter shocking me. Sure, every now and then a guy might scrap, but this was taking it to another level. Mr. Conevetti wasn’t fast enough for him.
        They danced around each other in a primal, masculine array. Adrian bared his teeth. “Trinity, for the love of the Goddess, run!” 

Where to find Kinsey ~

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Monday, December 23, 2013

Book Spotlight ~ Lost by Kayden McLeod

Genre: Vampire Menage
(Erotica, MF, MMF)
The first book in the Lost Trilogy

Have you ever been curious about the Fetish scene? About having the attention of the hottest deadliest vampires out there, all out for your pleasure? Well, Sara lives that life daily. It’s normally good to her, but one night the delicate stability in which the entire scene balances blows up in her face, and turns her world upside down, until she doesn’t know which way is up. Her boyfriend Gene senses her disquiet, and turns his attention to where her veiled interests now lay. Loren is a rich cultured four-century-old vampire, who has his sights set on Sara, and has made it his prerogative have her at any cost.


Publisher: New Dawning
Buy Links

Excerpt Rated R/XXX

“Baby, I’m horny.” Gene turned to me with deep hunger in his eyes.
Wait, did he just call me baby?
I touched his mind without the conscious decision to do so. Images of the blonde rode him hard as he looked at me. I don’t think I could’ve adequately explained how small and inferior this had made me feel. Also, strangely possessive. As if I had something to prove. Oh, don’t get me started on my stubborn streak.
Did I really mean so little to him, that he couldn’t even pretend not to want someone else more than he wanted me? Had he conveniently forgotten his mind was my playground? Fuck that! Righteous anger flicked through me, mixed with a determination to expel my second round of insecurity for the night. Not a good combination. Though I’ll never admit to this out loud, anger would leave me prone to acts of great stupidity.
“Baby?” Gene whispered. That sensual ache in his voice. When had he last used it with me? I wanted to hear it again.
“What?” I replied. Damn it! Did my voice just crack with lust?
His hand wrapped around the back of my neck, and drew me forward. His kiss was tentative, not quite sweet, but something like it. Felt good. False, but good. His lips moved over mine until he’d gained an honest response.
I forgot about Carl. Gene had caught me at my most vulnerable, and unknowingly exploited it. I growled against his mouth, while his other hand slid down my back.
I drowned in him, bringing back memories of a better time. The welcome, instant relief soothed so much. I could pretend our relationship wasn’t hell, torture. Just for a minute.
He raised his head, a dazed grin on his full now black cherry stained lips. Did he feel it too? I blinked, running my hand across his slightly bearded face. His eyes warmed for the first time in as long as I could recall.
“You liked that,” he said.
I just smiled.
“Do you want to play?” He trailed his fingers down the edge of the material covering my body, and then paused to wait.
I stiffened. “With?”
He ripped open my robe and stared at my partially naked body. He turned me, so my back rested against Carl’s side, under his arm. Carl jumped. So did I.
“Like I said, great tits.” He blinked, but his expression remained unreadable and neutral.
Gene bent over me, tongue sliding into my mouth, hand cupping my breast, tweaking my nipple. “Carl?”
“Would you fuck my woman,” he asked.

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Friday, December 20, 2013

Sensuous Promos Book Spotlight ~ The Blog Affair

The Blog Affair
by Alissa Baxter

Twenty-something, white, South African Emma Bradshaw has a pattern of falling for unsuitable men and starts a blog about these so-called “serial datists”. Her search for new beginnings takes her to Cape Town, where she gets a job working for sexy author, Nick Reynolds. Romance with her boss is a no-no, but slowly, Nick works his way around her defenses. Trust him, or not, especially with her awful track record with men?
When an anonymous male reader of the blog challenges her on her ideas about the male species, Emma realises she must confront her past and find her true self before she can move forward...and love can blossom again in her future.

Book Title The Blog Affair
Amazon | Barnes & Noble | All Romance eBooks | Decadent

About the Author:
Alissa Baxter was born in South Africa, and grew up with her nose in a book on a poultry and cattle farm. After school and university, where she majored in Political Science and French, she published her first novel, The Dashing Debutante.
Alissa travelled to London, England, and did an odd assortment of jobs while researching her second novel, Lord Fenmore’s Wager, which she wrote after she moved back to South Africa and settled in Durban. Alissa then relocated to Cape Town where she wrote her third novel, Send and Receive, before moving to Johannesburg, where she currently lives with her husband and son.

Contact Details:

Facebook: Facebook:

Enjoy the following excerpt for BOOK TITLE:

Damn him. Damn him. Damn him. Like a bad apple, he just had to pop up in her new home. She’d left Durban to escape him, and here he was, back again, tormenting her as ever. Awful enough that memories of him were with her all the time, without him turning up in the flesh. And what flesh it was….
“You had a good time in Italy?” she inquired.
Phil nodded.
“Great. Well, I have things to do. Bye.”
“Running away, Em?”
Emma, who had starting walking toward the door, stopped in her tracks and turned around. “I’ve moved on, Phil.”
“You mean you’ve moved away. You haven’t moved on.”
“What makes you so sure?”
Phil gazed into her eyes before looking down at her mouth, and Emma swallowed hard. He always made her insides twist into knots, and the fact she couldn’t bear to be in the same room with him for even five minutes clearly showed she hadn’t moved on.
She had to put him behind her, though, and stop allowing him to upset her equilibrium to the degree he did.
But as she studied his once-loved face, she let out a tiny sigh. How did you just move on and forget someone? Especially when you’d once believed that someone was the love of your life?
She stood immobile for a long moment. Then, without a word, she turned around again and walked out of the room.

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Thursday, December 19, 2013

Interview with Andrea Cooper and 2 Book Spotlights

Hello everyone, please welcome Andrea R. Cooper to Sensuous Promos today as she shares with us a little bit about her and her work. 

Andrea, thank you for joining us today. I know the readers are eager to get to know you, so let’s get started.

1.      Can you tell us a little bit about where you are from?

Thank you for having me. I’m from Houston, Texas. In addition, I am a third-generation Texan and a second-generation Houstonian. It is not the weather that keeps me here (Hot & Humid 360 days a year), but family and the yummy TexMex food. I am a wife and a mom to three kids: two boys and a girl.

2.      At what point did you first consider yourself a writer?

When I started writing poetry at fourteen years old, I kicked around the idea of writer. However, it was not until I completed writing my first novel that I sometimes acknowledged that I was a writer. Even still, it was not until I published my first novel that I said, “yes, I am a writer.”

3.     What inspired you to write your first book?

Ironically, I read a Viking historical romance. I cannot remember the name or author. But she had the Viking (with no logical reason I could see) give up his beliefs and ‘get saved’ taking on the heroine’s religion. I got so frustrated with the book that I tossed it across the room and thought I could do better. 

So I started writing a story that I would want to read. And that is how I write even now, stories I would like reading.

4.     Do you have a specific writing style? In other words, are you a plotter or a pantser? 

I am a pantser. I have a general idea of how the story will end. I know roughly where to go, but have no map. And sometimes the ending changes. I love it. I discover things the same time as the characters.

5.     What are you currently working on? Can you give us a sneak peek?

I am working on Son of Dragons, Book 2 of The Garnet Dagger trilogy. This novel, though it does have Celeste and Brock, focuses on Brock’s Elvin sister, Mirhana and her love interest, Landon. This trilogy is blend of Fantasy and Paranormal Romance Genres.

Here is a rough draft of a scene between Mirhana and Landon shortly after they kiss for the first time and she is shirtless.

She pushed him away hoping he would undress, but with his body heat gone, she forced herself to think. “No.”
His hands stopped removing his pants. If he kissed her again, she would crave him inside of her and not care about anything else.
“This—” She gathered up her tunic and covered herself with it. “This isn’t like me. I’m not intimate with complete strangers.” Her lips throbbed from his kiss and the tickle of his stubble. Without even touching herself, she knew her folds were slick, wet and yearning him inside her.
“We didn’t seem strangers a moment ago. Let me taste your mouth again, or the other breast?” He took a step toward her and she saw the lust in his dark eyes.
She yanked on her tunic on before he could reach her, then tucked it into her trousers. “The others will wonder where we are.” Without a glance back at him, she took off back to the path and heard his chuckle.
What was wrong with her? She hardly knew him. Sure, in hundreds of years, she had been with humans before. But not like this. Not filled with a desire so strong it eluded reasoning. Besides, none of those other relationships had lasted long. Still, it took all her willpower to walk away from him. Even now, she yearned to wrap her legs around him and have him take her against the tree. 

6.      Do you recall how your interest in writing originated?

I have always been a storyteller. I remember being in Elementary school and the neighborhood kids coming up to me asking what we were going to play. I created the plot and characters. Once we played ‘Space Vampires’ (yes I know it sounds silly now, but to a second grader it was revolutionary) and so that the kids did not bite each other, I told them their fangs were their first two fingers.

When I grew up, I could no longer ‘play’ out my characters. Since I had written poetry when I was fourteen until my early twenties, I tried a couple of times to write a novel, but life got in the way. After not writing much for years, my Muse got tired of waiting and handcuffed me to her until I wrote my first completed novel in my early thirties and I have not stopped since. 

7.      What was the hardest part of writing your book(s)?

Letting them go out into the world. Even now, I see things I want to change and edits I want to make on my two published novels. I have to work on the next. Hopefully, making each one better than the last.

8.      Where can our readers find you on the world wide web?

Everywhere, but here are a few links:

Author Website:

Andrea’s Bio: Growing up in Houston, Texas, Andrea has always created characters and stories. But it wasn't until she was in her late twenties that she started writing novels.

What happened that ignited the writing flame in her fingers? Divorced, and disillusioned by love songs and stories. They exaggerate. She thought. Love and Romance are not like that in the real world. Then she met her husband and realized, yes love and romance are exactly like the songs and stories say. She is now a happy wife, and a mom to three kids (two boys and a girl).

Andrea writes paranormal and historical romance. When not writing or reading, one may find Andrea dancing in Zumba.

She believes in the power of change and counting each moment as a blessing. But most importantly, she believes in love.


Viking Fire

In 856 CE, Ireland is a land of myth, magic, and blood. Viking raiders have fought the Irish for over half a century. Rival Irish clans promise only betrayal and carnage.

Kaireen, daughter of Laird Liannon, is suddenly forced into an arranged marriage with her sworn enemy, a Viking. She refuses to submit. With no mention of love, only land and the protection of her clan, she endeavors to get her betrothed banished from her country. Will love find its way around her stubborn heart?

Bram, the Viking, finds himself without future or inheritance as a younger son in his family. A marriage to the Laird’s daughter would grant him land if he swears fidelity and if his men will fight along with the Liannons against any foe—Irish or Viking. However, the Laird’s feisty daughter only holds animosity for him and his kind. Is marriage worth the battle scars of such a relentless opponent?

With the blame for a rival laird’s death treacherously set against the Liannons, Kaireen and Bram must find a way to lay aside their differences as an unforeseen darkness sends death snapping at their heels.

Viking Fire Excerpt
Chapter One Ireland 856 CE (condensed)

“I renounce Father for this.” Kaireen threw the elderberry gown.

“Shame on you and your children for speaking such.” Her handmaid, Elva, gathered the damask and then dusted off the rushes. “It’s a wonder one of the clim has not scolded you from your hearth for such talk.”

“No, curse Father for a fool.” She plopped on her bed and a goose feather floated away. With a huff, she leaned against the oak headboard. Red curtains puffed like a robin’s chest around oak poles supporting her wooden canopy.

Her bare feet brushed against the stone floor.

“You know your da arranged a marriage within a season.” Elva smirked.

Kaireen shook her head. “To another land holder,” and waved a hand in disgust, “not t-this heathen. Twice they raided our land in the last month alone. Now father wants me as wife to one of them?” She clenched her fists. “No, I will not marry this Viking.”

Elva smiled, reminding Kaireen of the rumors of her handmaid’s uncanny foresight.
Whispers of Elva making strange things happen and often blamed as the cause of
Kaireen’s stubborn refusal to behave as a laird’s daughter should.

“You’ve not seen him yet.” Elva wiggled her brows.

“So?” Kaireen shrugged. “I would like to never see him.”

“Well then, would you not like to know if you have a handsome husband or not?” She waited for her response, but Kaireen scowled. Elva chuckled. “I would rather get a good look at him now than the morning after.”

Kaireen’s ears heated. “I am not marrying.” She shook her head for emphasis. “So there will be no morning, nor night, nor wedding.”

“If he is handsome, I may fight you for him.” Elva smiled, deepening the wrinkles around her eyes.

“Welcome to him either way.” Kaireen laughed.

The Garnet Dagger 
Everyone knows what happens when a vampire bites a human…but what if the victim is Elvin?

Forbidden to cross the Elvin barrier into human lands, Brock cannot sate his curiosity. Cursed by a vampyre bite that forces him to feed on the life-essence of others, he is unable to touch another without taking their life. Chained by prophesy, he must find a witch, pierce her heart, and draw her blood for his cure. 

Celeste must escape the monks who have held her prisoner for years. Her magic has been kept dormant by her captors. An ancient powerful Warloc craves her powers. If he succeeds in devouring her magic, she and his world will die.

When Brock falls in love with Celeste before realizing her demise is his cure, will love triumph over his desire to be healed? Will he risk everything to save her from a Warloc, an oath breaker, who also wants her dead?

The Garnet Dagger Excerpt:  Chapter One (condensed)

I’ve known death. For over half a millennia, I escorted many to death at the end of my sword. In the eyes of the dying, I watched it shroud them. Foolishly, I thought many more eras would pass before death came for me. It came so swiftly that I could not run; I could not escape. At a village, dressed in human clothes, I took in everything.

I delayed my return to my people as I watched human jugglers bounce torches and knifes. It was autumn equinox and the festivities would continue well into the night. Children laughed as they chased each other. A trail of leaves from their costumes twirled after them. It was dark when I reached the forest.

I hiked slower than my normal speed, so as not to startle whatever human called out. My leather boots crunched upon dried, diseased leaves and bark. Horrified, I glanced up. Branches twisted around each other to suffocating. Lifeless limbs cracked in the wind. Flesh of the trees sloughed off in layers, exposing its bones. Gashes hollowed out chunks of warmth. Fragments of leaves clung to finger tips, marking sepulchers of the dying trees. Trees mourned with wails like splitting wood, and I brought my hands over my ears. I must flee before I became infected, they told me. Flee before the stain of this defilement creeps into you, they warned. Trees spoke to my kind, always had. Yet these trees were in such agony of death that I could not breathe. Felt as though my lungs had folded in on themselves, like a moth unable to break loose from its cocoon.

The Garnet Dagger Book Trailer
Viking Fire Book Trailer:

The Garnet Dagger Amazon:
The Garnet Dagger B & N:
The Garnet Dagger iTunes:
Viking Fire Amazon:
Viking Fire B & N:
Viking Fire iTunes:

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