New Release -Wild Bells by Elna Holst

Title: Wild Bells

Series: Tinsel and Spruce Needles, Book Three

Author: Elna Holst

Publisher: NineStar Press

Release Date: December 16, 2019

Heat Level: 3 – Some Sex

Pairing: Female/Female

Length: 14800

Genre: Contemporary, LGBT, holiday, romance, lesbian, disabilities, college student, silversmith

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Synopsis

Lund, Sweden, 1998

Mia Andersson is not a nice person. She is a sharp, sensational-looking, aloof lawyer-to-be, and the busiest sapphic player in town. Mia Andersson takes no prisoners, tells no tales, and if you gave her your number, chances are she won’t call. But this holiday season, at age twenty-seven, wheels that are out of her control have been set in motion, and it looks like she might just get caught in the spin.

Excerpt

Wild Bells
Elna Holst © 2019
All Rights Reserved

Lund, Sweden, 1998

Linda Ling was all that. From the moment Mia had first set eyes on her, at the band’s premiere gig at Blekingska back in October, she hadn’t been able to not see her: Linda Ling turned up in her dreams at night, in her thoughts by day, in casual conversation between classes, in the distance along the streets of late-autumn, early-winter Lund. She was on posters, in clubs, in the air, and—God help her—in Mia Andersson’s masturbatory fantasies. The spiky, jet-black hair, the punk-goth pallor, her slight, androgynous build, the calculated raggedness of her clothing: black netting, torn edges, charcoal and purple stripes. The ankh tattoo at the nape of her neck, which Mia had glimpsed, teasingly, only once at the university library, where she had happened to spot Linda embroiled with a gaggle of friends-cum-admirers, her hair gathered in a messy I’ve-got-brains-too bun to mark the occasion. She had a piercing, as well: a stud below her full, pouty bottom lip, and each and every finger of her hands was adorned with at least two fancy, industrial-sized silver rings. Her eyes were an intense shade of violet, which Mia suspected must be the product of tinted contacts, but it didn’t matter, or rather, it merely added to her attractions—because Linda Ling was so attractive it was unreal.

And Mia Andersson was not in the habit of not having got her leg over that already.

True, Linda was four years her junior, but Mia wasn’t usually squeamish about that sort of thing: she was twenty-seven, not eighty-three. And she’d bet her favourite, well-worn Ramones tee Linda Ling wouldn’t mind a slightly older, a lot more experienced lover.

This wasn’t so much bragging as a statement of facts; Mia Andersson had been a player of, more or less, the exclusive sapphic variety since she had turned fifteen. She had been sexually active for well over a decade, and she had turned her fair share of blushing bi-curious virgins into raging rug munchers. Her gaydar was impeccable. If there was even the slightest possibility, the most infinitesimal potential of queer in a girl, Mia brought it out and honed it to glimmering perfection, before releasing her back out into the wild. Mia Andersson was a dykemaker. It was just her thing.

There was only one problem—one which, despite her being closer to her cool thirties than her red-hot twenties, Mia couldn’t recall ever having run up against before. She was miffed. She was stunted. She was flabbergasted.

Linda Ling was, to all appearances and in spite of her heavy, enticing, smouldering andro vibe, completely, irredeemably, one hundred per cent and counting, straight.

The mere thought caused Mia’s upper lip to curl in distaste, her hand gripping the neck of her beer bottle spasmodically. She just couldn’t accept it, and the non-acceptance had turned into a minor obsession—to the point where Mia Andersson, the Malmö-Lund region’s busiest lesbian lay, had gone a full thirty days (an entire month!) without getting any action. Her frustration was verging on palpable. She needed another drink.

Turning abruptly away from the low stage where Linda and her band members droned out their latest dour-faced dirge—the Raven Choir they called themselves, or something along those lines; to be honest, Mia wouldn’t have given them a second glance, much less paid the price of a ticket, if it hadn’t been for the fact that their lead singer was, well, all that—Mia made for the bar. Or, that was the plan; in reality, she ran crotch first into a froth-tipped pint of lager.

“Oh, for fuck’s—”

Eyes of an indeterminate colour regarded her, from out of a tan face shaded by the stiff peak of a light-blue football cap.

“Unexpected move.” The person to whom these iconoclastic features belonged cocked her head, and a devilish glint came into those previously oh-so-innocent eyes right before she added: “Bet I got your knickers wet in record time, though.”

Mia ‘the Dykemaker’ Andersson was at a loss for words. Slack-jawed with disbelief, she simply stared down at the woman seated—of course, it had to be, this close to the stage—in a sleek purple wheelchair, a now half-empty glass of beer in hand. Or half full, depending on your outlook on life, etc. There was something oddly, disturbingly familiar about her.

The woman switched her glass over to her left and held out her right hand.

“Sandra Ling,” she drawled, and everything came together, all at once, as Mia darted a look back up at Linda, who was, mercifully, not turned in their direction.

“That’s right,” Sandra nodded as she shook Mia’s limp hand vigorously. She had some grip on her; that was for sure. “Twins. I know. I know. It’s not fair; how come I got all the looks and talent?”

Mia snorted, half in shock, half in amusement.

“How is that—” She stopped, not really certain where she was going, what she was saying. Besides, her jeans and—yes, her underwear, too—really were soaking. In a non-sexual, not comfortable at all way. “Fuck, I’m wet!”

Sandra sucked her lips in over her teeth, giving her a frog-like appearance. Kind of—no, not kind of, just cute, actually.

“Yeah, jokes aside, I’m sorry about that. I was just about to—well, never mind.”

Mia shuffled her feet. There was a puddle on the floor, starting to give off that classic old-drunk reek, and she felt about as fresh and alluring as if she had pissed herself. And here she was, chatting to a stranger. A girl in a wheelchair. Linda’s sister. Her twin.

“I should go wash off.”

Sandra sat back in her seat, lifting herself up a little on her forearms. Her torso was—square, almost a perfect square, there was no other way of putting it.

“I’ll keep a look out for you. When you get back, I mean. I think I owe you a drink or something. What did you say your name was?”

“Mia. Mia Andersson. I’m—I’m really wet.”

Sandra’s lips twisted into the subtlest smirk Mia could recollect ever having seen, except—well, except when she happened to catch sight of her own reflection.

She actually, honest-to-God blushed.

Purchase

NineStar Press | Amazon | Smashwords | Barnes & Noble | Kobo

Meet the Author

Often quirky, always queer, Elna Holst is an unapologetic genre-bender who writes anything from stories of sapphic lust and love to the odd existentialist horror piece, reads Tolstoy, and plays contract bridge. Find her on Instagram or Goodreads.

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New Release – This is the Circle by Tash McAdam

Title: This is the Circle
Series: The Psionics, Book Four
Author: Tash McAdam
Publisher: NineStar Press
Release Date: December 16, 2019
Heat Level: 2 – Fade to Black Sex
Pairing: No Romance
Length: 75800
Genre: Science Fiction/Fantasy, LGBT, military, futuristic, alt universe, barbarians, bonded, dark, disabilities, body snatching, undead, polyamory, non-monogamy, minor romance

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Synopsis

In the middle of two wars, including one that they didn’t want and didn’t ask for, the Psionics of ARC struggle to turn back the Eaters. The Institute is still waiting for an opportunity to regain control of the city, but right now there are more pressing concerns. Outside the Wall, chaos reigns, and the slums are overrun. Citizens and dwells alike are panicked and rioting. Cassandra hides in Epsilon 17’s body, convincing those closest to her that everything is normal as she pieces together plans to escape in the confusion.

But when the Eaters take her, Thea manages to regain control. The tables have turned. Now she has to pretend to be Cassandra to survive—but fortunately her time in the Institute prepared her well. If she tries to flee, she’ll be killed, but if she stays with the cannibal hordes she’s bound to be discovered. Escape seems impossible, but help—and friendship—comes from an unlikely source.

Toby and Serena have their hands full fighting the invading Eaters and trying to track down leads on where Thea could be. Cut off from his twin, Toby’s relationships with ARC deepen and grow, but he’s consumed by his guilt and his need to find Thea.

The cannibal threat looms ever closer, and with one of their best weapons either lost or disabled, ARC has to decide what their priorities are. Should they try to kill her, or save her?

Excerpt

This is the Circle
Tash McAdam © 2019
All Rights Reserved

TOBY

They’re coming over the wall, Serena pushes the thought to me as we duck into a doorway, looking for our next targets. People are running and screaming, I see a toddler dashed out of his mother’s arms, grabbed by an invisible hand, and send a puff of telekinesis out to catch him, whisking him out of danger and back safe onto her shoulder. A scream of frustration rings in the empty air.

The woman doesn’t know what happened, but she takes her child and keeps running. The streets are clearing now, the gates shut to keep the attackers out, cutting off the flood of dwells. I can’t help but think they’d be safer if they’d all stayed outside. The Eaters are here; they’re in the City, but we can’t see them.

I desperately try to comm base, but everything’s down, my datapad blinking uselessly as it tries to connect.

Serena marks two falling shapes that are invisible to me as they tumble down the huge white edifice. They’re using their power like parachutes, skidding their feet down the surface of the wall and wafting their telekinesis above themselves, slowing their descent; it’s unbelievable. Via our hand-to-hand connection I get a faint impression of Serena skidding down a wall by herself, long ago, young and scared, with devastation woven into the heart of the memory. She digs her nails into my hand, jogging me out of the private moments she didn’t mean to share, and points our joined hands at the first descending Eater.

I send out a burst of power, flatten the body-snatcher against the massive white blocks of steel-hard stone, feel his bones break, and his scream of pain reverberates through the air. Serena yanks the other attacker down, but he…no, she, flips in the air and lands on her feet, dodging into the panicked shapes before Serena can keep track of her.

A massive figure shunts refugee bodies aside like a battering ram—Tudor: he can see them, just like Leaf could in the desert—and heaves upward. The woman Serena lost sight of flickers into view for a moment, and Tudor hammers a huge fist into her chest. Everything is so sharp and clear in my vision. I see her rib bones bow inward, snap. Battlesight, Serena crows, adrenaline pounding through her, making her forget the deaths around us and focus only on the joy of war.

Together we race toward the fading trail of another invisible attacker as they sprint down a street after the fleeing crowds. They want the children, Serena sends to me, her inner voice shocked and disbelieving. I caught it on her before Tudor took her down; they’re here for the kids. The powered kids, she means. I feel it.

Why? My feet smash into the pavement. I wish these boots were older, broken in, the tight synth-leather making my strides just a touch uncertain on the slippery solar panels.

You should try doing this in the rain, Serena jokes, not knowing the answer to my question. Then we’re on the escaping Eater and have to focus. She reads and finds his feet for me, bare, soles like hide but used to hot sands not smooth glassy surfaces. I thread a noose of power around his ankle, ready to trip him. But I forgot what they can do with an open line, and I gasp as he yanks on the tendril I sent toward him. He pulls a gob of power right out of my chest, absorbing it with a shuddery cry I can hear with my mundane ears, not needing Serena to read it and pass it to me.

I stagger, almost falling with the shock of it, but Serena catches me with a strong hand around my belt, saving me from a nosedive onto the ground. Toby. It’s a cry, thick with fear, but I’m okay. I let go of the power and let him take it rather than try to keep the connection open and fight him for it. I don’t know how to do that, and the memory of my twin taking everything out of me is still too fresh in my mind to want to try.

I’m good, I spit it, finding my balance and yanking Serena along, urging her to look for our prey, but he’s disappeared, and she can’t find him. If they want the kids, they’ll be at ARC, I realize and share at the same time, and Serena blanches.

Damon.
Purchase

NineStar Press | Amazon | Smashwords | Barnes & Noble | Kobo

Meet the Author

Tash is a 30 year old teacher candidate at UBC in Canada, although they were born and raised in the hilly sheepland of Wales (and have lived in South Korea and Chile before settling down in Vancouver). Tash identifies as trans and queer and uses the neutral pronoun ‘they’. They’re also an English teacher and fully equipped to defend that grammar! They have a degree in computer science so their nerd chat makes sense, and a couple of black belts in karate which are very helpful when it comes to writing fight scenes.

Their novel writing endeavours began at the age of eight, and included passing floppy discs back and forth with a friend at swimming lessons. Since then, Tash has spent time falling in streams, out of trees, learning to juggle, dreaming about zombies, dancing, painting, learning and then teaching Karate, running away with the circus, and of course, writing.

They write fast-paced, plot-centric action adventure with diverse casts. They write the books that they wanted to read as a queer kid and young adult (and still do!)

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Rainbow Snippets

Running around trying to get ready for the holidays and traveling home which has been delayed because of home repairs.

Here’s more of Ghosts, Gangsters and Garland (which somehow isn’t on Goodreads. Sigh)

Zia sat upright, glancing around the darkened room. Next to her, Dolores slept soundly. Dolores was a champion sleeper, liking ten hours or more, and it was hard to rouse her. Kane, on the other side, stirred, hitching himself up. Like Zia, he slept too lightly.

“Problem?” he whispered.

She shook her head. “Not sure. Feel that?”

He knit up his brow. “Don’t think we’re alone.”

Zia scanned the room and then jutted her chin toward the corner. A small boy stood there next to the antique dresser. The boy didn’t move, making Zia’s skin creep. Well used to ghosts, she never liked it when they stared. She did not sense anything malevolent coming from him. Was he curious? Was he more residual energy with no consciousness behind him? She’d have to investigate to know.

“He’s creeping me out,” Kane said, reaching across Zia to tap Dolores’s shoulder. She didn’t stir.

Zia shook Dolores until she batted at Zia’s hand. “Go ‘way,” she muttered into the pillow.
“We have a visitor,” Zia replied, which woke Dolores up.

WHA4-JD-GGG-2x3

Blurb
Zia, Dolores and Kane all possess the magic to fight monsters but all they want now is a nice Christmas break. Partners in life and at work as monster-slayers for a group known as the Clipeum, they’ve been risking life and limb keeping humanity safe. They’ve won their hard-earned vacation their boss has set up for them: a week in a small hotel in upper Wisconsin. Their boss mentioned in passing it used to be a gangster retreat in the heyday of prohibition.

Married for some time, Zia and Dolores were surprised to have Kane in their life, first at work and now in their hearts. They’re looking forward to their first holiday today as a threesome and the ladies can’t wait to see their first pagan Yule celebration with Kane. All they want is some quiet relaxation. What they get is something entirely different.

Gangster ghosts, would-be witches, over-enthusiastic children, animated snowmen and a century old former gangster moll who has a little spark still in her add up to a not-so-restful Christmas. Zia, Dolores and Kane trade comfy clothing and relaxation for spellcasting and ghost wrangling. Still they might just be able to rescue themselves a Merry Yule from all the chaos.

Buy Links

Mischief Corner Press

Amazon

Kobo

Apple Books

If you’d like to play along, Rainbow Snippets is a Facebook community where we post up 6 sentences of one of our LGBT stories every Saturday. It’s been fun and you can find it here. Be sure to check out all the offers! It’s been a great supportive group!

New Release-Ghosts, Gangsters and Garland

WHA4-JD-GGG-2x3

My latest is now out. Check it out. I had a lot of fun with this one. It’s set in my old stomping grounds.

Blurb
Zia, Dolores and Kane all possess the magic to fight monsters but all they want now is a nice Christmas break. Partners in life and at work as monster-slayers for a group known as the Clipeum, they’ve been risking life and limb keeping humanity safe. They’ve won their hard-earned vacation their boss has set up for them: a week in a small hotel in upper Wisconsin. Their boss mentioned in passing it used to be a gangster retreat in the heyday of prohibition.

Married for some time, Zia and Dolores were surprised to have Kane in their life, first at work and now in their hearts. They’re looking forward to their first holiday today as a threesome and the ladies can’t wait to see their first pagan Yule celebration with Kane. All they want is some quiet relaxation. What they get is something entirely different.

Gangster ghosts, would-be witches, over-enthusiastic children, animated snowmen and a century old former gangster moll who has a little spark still in her add up to a not-so-restful Christmas. Zia, Dolores and Kane trade comfy clothing and relaxation for spellcasting and ghost wrangling. Still they might just be able to rescue themselves a Merry Yule from all the chaos.

When Holidays Attack

Release Date: December 10, 2019

Word Count: 20,000

Editor: Jude Dunn

Cover Artist: Catherine Dair

Buy Links

Mischief Corner Press

Amazon

Kobo

Apple Books

Rainbow Snippets

It’s been a hard week. I lost my kitty during the middle of finals week. It started Thanksgiving and ended a week later. Kanda had cancer no one knew about and it went to his liver. I miss him very much.

But thanks to every for the fun reception to my Christmas novella, Gangsters Ghosts and Garland the f/f/m gang of monster hunters just trying to have a relaxing holiday. Here’s a little more

Monster hunting was hard; sometimes it was just silly. What Zia hoped for most was that monsters and other craziness would be utterly absent up here in Wendigo country. Nothing would ruin Christmas faster than a ravenous, cannibalistic corpse monster like the Wendigo.

Zia dragged her luggage inside the lobby. With its open sitting room, the space wasn’t quite what she expected. Zia wasn’t sure why she anticipated art deco splendor other than this was once a gangster resort. Back in the prohibition days, Al Capone and his ilk came to the North Woods of Wisconsin for relaxation and to hide out.

WHA4-JD-GGG-2x3

Blurb
Zia, Dolores and Kane all possess the magic to fight monsters but all they want now is a nice Christmas break. Partners in life and at work as monster-slayers for a group known as the Clipeum, they’ve been risking life and limb keeping humanity safe. They’ve won their hard-earned vacation their boss has set up for them: a week in a small hotel in upper Wisconsin. Their boss mentioned in passing it used to be a gangster retreat in the heyday of prohibition.

Married for some time, Zia and Dolores were surprised to have Kane in their life, first at work and now in their hearts. They’re looking forward to their first holiday today as a threesome and the ladies can’t wait to see their first pagan Yule celebration with Kane. All they want is some quiet relaxation. What they get is something entirely different.

Gangster ghosts, would-be witches, over-enthusiastic children, animated snowmen and a century old former gangster moll who has a little spark still in her add up to a not-so-restful Christmas. Zia, Dolores and Kane trade comfy clothing and relaxation for spellcasting and ghost wrangling. Still they might just be able to rescue themselves a Merry Yule from all the chaos.

Pre-order/Buy Links

Mischief Corner Press

Amazon

Kobo

Apple Books

If you’d like to play along, Rainbow Snippets is a Facebook community where we post up 6 sentences of one of our LGBT stories every Saturday. It’s been fun and you can find it here. Be sure to check out all the offers! It’s been a great supportive group!

Kanda- DSCN3226