A Wicked Halloween Blog Tour and Giveaway: CE Black with Behind the Mask


Feed your paranormal cravings!
Halloween can’t get here soon enough! Especially when we have this tantalizing boxed set to look forward to.
A Wicked Halloween ~ 13 **BRAND NEW & EXCLUSIVE** paranormal romance tales that will thrill and chill you just in time for All Hallow’s Eve.
Preorder for only #99cent today!
Visit the page: A Wicked Halloween
#Nook #Kindle #iBooks #ARe #Kobo


#paranormal #witches #salem #pnr #romance #preorder #giveaway #limitedtime


Dates with my husband.
Trips to Charleston with my family
Drinking a hot hazelnut coffee in peace and
Reading a good book


That moment when I type THE END



Kassandra Darkmorré is hiding behind the mask of humanity, living her life as nothing more than a spectator. She watches, knowing the outcome of the lives around her.

They lived.

They died.

While she was left all alone.

She never imagined one of her hospice patients would figure out what she was or ask for an explanation on her death bed. And Kassandra surely didn’t expect the dying woman to give her something she hadn’t had in almost two hundred years. Hope.“What you desire most is achievable. You must accept the invitation when it’s presented.”While on the search for her true desire, she finds the man of her one and only dream, Cyrus Good. The attraction between them is instantaneous, but Kassandra can’t help but feel like something is missing. And that maybe he has secrets as  sinister as Salem itself.

And what about Xavier Drago? The mysterious man keeps popping up when she least expects him to. As annoying and demanding as he is, though, she can’t help but be drawn to him just as intensely.

It all began with an invitation, but will it end with a happily ever after?


Excerpt from Behind The
Mask by C.E. Black
I put on my coat,
buttoning it up to my chin, and threw a scarf around my neck for good measure.
Though the fall night had turned brisk, and the people entering the hospital
from outside all wore matching red noses, I didn’t need the coat. But I liked
the feeling of being one of them.
Seeing my little friend
from earlier that evening waiting on me, I crouched down to get closer and held
out my hand. “Hi again, little guy,” I said softly.
He purred as he bumped
his onyx-colored head against my hand. Smiling, I rubbed my palm over his soft
back. He didn’t have a collar, and though he looked fairly clean I could see
his ribs showing, he was so thin. “Are you hungry, boy?” He wrapped around my
leg in answer, and I laughed as I scooped him up in my arms. “Then let’s get
you something to eat.” I was starving, but my hunger could wait. This guy
probably hadn’t seen a decent meal in weeks.
After a stop at the
grocery store for all the essentials he might need, I rushed home to my condo.
Though in a hurry, I still took the time to fill a bowl with cat food and
another with water. While he chowed down, I set up the litter box, and by the
time I’d finished I couldn’t ignore the ache any longer.
I pulled the blood bag
from my purse, put it in the microwave, then pressed the quick thrity-second
button before grabbing a glass out of the cabinet. Warm blood was much more
satisfying. Before the microwave dinged, I pulled out the bag and cut open the
top with my kitchen shears. My mouth watered as the fresh, metallic scent reached
my nostrils, and a small moan squeezed from my lips.
Careful not to spill a
drop, I poured the thick red liquid into the glass before tossing the empty bag
in the trash. I could have pierced the bag with my teeth, as they had already
elongated, ready to feed, but I had the need to do things a more human way.
Drinking from the glass made me feel like less of a monster.
As usual, I started off
by sipping leisurely, as though it was a fine wine I’d purchased for pleasure,
but as the sweet coppery flavor burst over my tongue, my hunger seized control,
and the glass was empty less than a second later.
Staring at the thin red
film that coated the inside of the glass, I licked my lips. I had the insane
idea to use my finger to scrape off every last bit. Not a good sign.
Feeling eyes on me, I
turned to find the cat sitting next to his empty bowls, watching me. If I
didn’t know better, I’d say he looked curious, maybe even a bit anxious. “Don’t
worry, boy. You have nothing to fear from me.” I could have sworn he nodded
before he stalked out of the room.
Shaking my head, I
rinsed out the glass, breathing a sigh of relief when it was clear of all
blood. “Not classy, Kassandra,” I said to myself. I hadn’t been feeding enough,
but how could I justify taking another’s source of life? These bags of blood
would save a human life. At as little as one a week, that was fifty-two deaths
a year I could potentially cause.
It was bad enough the
donor center was amidst a shortage. The possibility that my necessary feeding
habit would cause issues had guilt eating away at me. But it was better than
taking from the source. I’d never do that. Never




C.E. Black self-published her first book in 2011 and has since published several novels, novellas, and short stories. Though she began her writing career in the Paranormal Romance genre, she found her niche in erotic PNR/Fantasy with her breakout novel, Shifted Temptations. What started out as a standalone romance, became the Amazon best selling Alpha Division series. Though steamy romance, hunky heroes, and feisty heroines are C.E.’s specialty, she enjoys surprising her readers with action-filled plots and exciting twists that makes for a fast-paced read.
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A Wicked Halloween Blog Tour and Giveaway: Angelica Dawson with Ethereal Protector


Feed your paranormal cravings!
Halloween can’t get here soon enough! Especially when we have this tantalizing boxed set to look forward to.
A Wicked Halloween ~ 13 **BRAND NEW & EXCLUSIVE** paranormal romance tales that will thrill and chill you just in time for All Hallow’s Eve.
Preorder for only #99cent today!
Visit the page: A Wicked Halloween
#Nook #Kindle #iBooks #ARe #Kobo


#paranormal #witches #salem #pnr #romance #preorder #giveaway #limitedtime



Five Favorite Things: 

1. Being Lazy – Having no pressing appointment, no rush jobs, just sitting back and having a coffee
2. My medication – Not the happiest thing, but without it, I really wouldn’t be here.
3. My husband – When the medication doesn’t work, he does.
4. My home – It’s not as clean as it could be, and the garden and lawn are overgrown, and it needs a few renos, but really, I love my house and my neighbourhood.
5. My daughter – She drives me insane, but I would do anything for her.



Summer Parker has moved to Salem, into her great-grandmother’s house. Once there, she is plagued by the sensation of someone watching her. Added to that, she is having strange dreams about her ancestor, Mark Parker, who was one of Salem’s witches. Her human roommates remove most of the eeriness of her predicament, but the intangible roomie is making himself at home too. After a close call, the identity of her resident ghost is revealed. But if Geoffrey is the ghost, does that make her Mary Parker? One thing is certain, Geoffrey is as determined to protect her. WARNING: Suicide Trigger.


Although classic, the house had been
maintained and renovated over the years, so it looked quaint, but had central
heating, hot water on demand, and proper outlets in all the walls. There was
even an Ethernet outlet in the sitting room under an old writing desk that had
been converted for a keyboard tray and monitor.
“Sweet.” Summer ran her hand over the
warm brown wood, polished to shine. She had opted not to keep the cleaners,
saving a few pennies by keeping house herself. It wasn’t an option to normal
renters. The cleaning crew could alert the management company of problem
tenants before much damage could be done.
Summer shivered with a chill that was
likely the result of rain water. Her hair, where it had escaped her hood, dripped.
She shrugged off the slicker and left it with the boots, then took her tote and
suitcase up the stairs. Creaks accompanied her climbing, and that sound echoed
as well. She would have to set up a portable stereo or something. The place was
too creepy with no one in it. There were four bedrooms in total—two tiny, one
fairly large and a master suite, which she claimed.
She snorted at the thought. It had a
sink attached. Not even a toilet. Not really a suite. It was the largest
bedroom, though, and would give her somewhere to brush her teeth and fix her
hair once her roommates arrived.
Flopping on the bed, she looked up at
the plaster ceiling and saw a myriad of tiny cracks. Was that a bad thing?
Would pieces of it start falling on her? Standing on the duvet in damp socks,
she stretched to see it better.
“Ew.” They weren’t cracks but strings of
cobwebs, tons of them. She couldn’t reach, but she would be back with a broom
before sleeping. And she might not be able to sleep even then.
She would head out for food—eat out
tonight or get groceries for tomorrow—but there was one more thing to do before
that. Her tablet rested in her tote bag, and she sent a message to Mom, Aunt
Marge, and Della, her best friend from Montreal. They would all want to know
that she arrived safely, that the house was in great shape—she didn’t mention
the cobwebs, the cleaners hadn’t been in since the last renter left—and she was
excited to start class in a couple of days.
Formalities done, she looked out the
window into the grey September evening and considered ordering in pizza. It
made more sense to get groceries, though. After all, she would need breakfast
as well. Judging the rain, she wondered if it was worth waiting for it to pass.
She spun around, the overwhelming sense
of someone watching her coming from the closet. That made no sense. She opened
the doors wide, revealing a bare bar with several hangers that rattled as air
swept out.
Leaning in, Summer looked left and
right, examining the corners. Maybe it was a mouse. Nope.
She hopped down the stairs and put on
her jacket. Suddenly groceries and rain seemed better than staying where she
was. Had Aunt Marge said anything about high turnover, or infestations, or
anything? She set a quick pace and tried to recall, but nothing came to mind.
The turnover was high, but that was just because students only stayed for a few
years. Still, she would email Marge tonight.
When she returned with the groceries,
her arms aching slightly from the weight of them, the eerie feeling was gone.
Relieved, she took her time putting away milk, bread, cereal, and everything
else. The deli sandwich came last and she took her time eating it.
Climbing the stairs, she yawned. It had
been a long trip and she hoped for a less grey day tomorrow.
When she was curling up in bed, the
sensation of being watched returned. “Who’s there?” she asked, feeling stupid.
Who was going to answer her?
There was no reply, but her bedroom door
squeaked on its hinge, swinging in slightly. She closed her eyes and told
herself it was her imagination. One thing was certain, she would be thrilled
when her roommates arrived. This place was too empty, just like the large bed,
filled with only herself.




Angelica Dawson, bestselling Naughty Nights Press author, has been writing for several years and having sex a lot longer than that. Angelica is a wife, mother and environmental consultant. Her love of plants and the outdoors is not diminished by the bloodsucking hoards — mosquitoes and black flies, not vampires.

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A Wicked Halloween Blog Tour and Giveaway: Sherrie Lea Morgan with Salem’s Embrace


Feed your paranormal cravings!
Halloween can’t get here soon enough! Especially when we have this tantalizing boxed set to look forward to.
A Wicked Halloween ~ 13 **BRAND NEW & EXCLUSIVE** paranormal romance tales that will thrill and chill you just in time for All Hallow’s Eve.
Preorder for only #99cent today!
Visit the page: A Wicked Halloween
#Nook #Kindle #iBooks #ARe #Kobo


#paranormal #witches #salem #pnr #romance #preorder #giveaway #limitedtime


Five favorites:
Five Favorite Things: 
1. The Ghost Walk tour in Edinburgh, Scotland I went on three years ago.
2. Halloween (the movie)
3. Haunted Houses
4. Ghost Walk Tours
5. Roller-coaster rides
Solitary witch Meghan Nightshade is torn between hiding inside her self-made company in Atlanta and returning to stay in her hometown of Salem. One represents new beginnings, and the other her past. When an illness forces her to return to Salem for a short time, she realizes there are forgotten memories among the magic and nothing was the same as she remembered. Between preparing for the upcoming Halloween traditions and falling for the sexy Eathan Callaghan, Meghan is pulled back into the world of magic, covens, and witchcraft. Is she strong enough now to battle for the freedom of Eathan’s innocent sister, or will it cost her too much, and send her running back to the safety of Atlanta?


“I have a feeling not much surprises you, Eathan Callaghan.” Again, his earthy smell called to her. Her body trembled.
“That’s true. Living here for the past ten years has taught me a lot of things.” He squeezed her elbow. “Including the fact that there are many things that cannot, or rather, will not be explained through science. I’ve even had the honor of exploring Nathaniel’s House of the Seven Gables alone. The proprietor owed me a favor. It was…interesting.”
Meghan paused and stared at him. “You believe in magic and ghosts and such?”
“Of course I do. You can’t live in Salem and not believe there’s something different out there.” He grinned. “I’ve taken Karen to lunch at Pickering Wharf more than once.”


I live outside of Atlanta, GA. When not working my day job, I am either working on a manuscript, or furiously jotting notes for future stories. If time permits, I spend time with my daughter, twin sister and two cats and two dogs. Two years I fulfilled a life long dream of travelling to England. My sister and daughter joined me and we spent one week in London and one week in Scotland. I loved it so much! One day, I’ll be going back. My son returned home after serving four years with the United States Marines. I missed him and am happily spending time together. A few years ago, I was invited to guest blog about my adventures with two great writers. It was so much fun, thatI have created a blog for this site and am working on filling it.

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A Wicked Halloween Blog Tour and Giveaway: Elizabeth A. Reeves with Midnight at the Salem Cafe


Feed your paranormal cravings!
Halloween can’t get here soon enough! Especially when we have this tantalizing boxed set to look forward to.
A Wicked Halloween ~ 13 **BRAND NEW & EXCLUSIVE** paranormal romance tales that will thrill and chill you just in time for All Hallow’s Eve.
Preorder for only #99cent today!
Visit the page: A Wicked Halloween
#Nook #Kindle #iBooks #ARe #Kobo


#paranormal #witches #salem #pnr #romance #preorder #giveaway #limitedtime


Five favorites:
Favorite Magical Creature/being: Dragons. It’s always going to be dragons.
Favorite Book: Passage by Connie Willis (this changes almost daily).
Favorite Holiday: Thanksgiving. It’s all about family and food for me, what could be better?
Favorite Sport: Pretty much anything Equestrian. For watching, nothing can be quite as exciting as Eventing. As far as participating… I’m not quite that brave. I do enjoy riding, though.
Favorite Fairy Tale: Beauty and the Beast. I love that it has historical origins in truth. And it’s just a lovely idea, all around.
Witness to her own mother’s murder, Lena Scott long ago gave up any hope that she would be able to lead a normal, healthy life. She also thought that she’d left Salem, and that night, behind. She was never going to look back. But, looking back may be the key to more than just that mysterious Halloween night. And her home, her life, and even her work at the Salem Cafe are more intertwined than she ever imagined.
And the past is full of more secrets than Lena could ever have imagined. Everything she believed about herself, everything she knew about herself… all of that comes into question on yet another dark, Salem Halloween night.

As often happened, when the world felt a little festive, Lena felt more alone than usual. She was an outsider to the laughter and teasing that marked off the hours among the rest of the staff. Oh, she smiled, and she even spoke a few times, but it was always with a sense that she didn’t belong.
She never had quite fit.
Her required break was punctuated by a mug of the best hot chocolate in the world—the menu even said so—and a thin slice of apple pie.
It was a risky move. Apple pie always made her think about Gran. Lena closed her eyes against the warmth of cinnamon, cooled by the gentle kiss of vanilla from the ice cream Luisa made in the big machine in the back. There was nothing fancy about it—no frills at all.
But it was perfect.
Lena put her fork down after one bite. A second one, she thought, could never be as good as that first taste.
It was starting to get late. Fewer customers came through the door, despite the well-lit sign saying that they’d be open all night for Halloween.
“It’s starting to really come down out there,” a man told her, as she handed him and his wife their menus.
“Oh,” she said, surprised. “I didn’t even realize that it was snowing.”
“If it was raining, I’d say it was raining cats and dogs,” the woman said with a laugh. “I don’t know what you say for that kind of snow.”
“Falling like goose down,” Lena heard her own voice say. The words startled her. She couldn’t remember having heard them before, and yet, she had a feeling that they were just right.
“Charming,” the woman said, widening her eyes. “What a lovely image.”
Obviously the woman had never met geese, Lena thought wryly. In her limited experience, they were rarely lovely.
She did take the time, though, to stand at the door and watch the snow fall. It really was coming down, in great, fluffy flakes.
Lena laughed softly. It really did look like feathers falling out of the sky.
“Look at that,” Martin said, turned in his seat to watch the snow come down. “That’s a real treat for Halloween—or is Old Mother Nature playing some tricks on us all?” He laughed. “Weather like this always gets the ghosts thumping around, doesn’t it, Luisa?” He turned his head towards where she stood, silent for once.
“You hush,” she said.
“Don’t pretend that you’ve never seen him,” Martin teased. “You and I both know that you did. You can’t deny it.”
“Saw who?” Lena asked, despite the frisson of goosebumps crawling spider-like up her back.
Martin blinked at her in surprise. “I keep forgetting that you didn’t grow up around these parts.”
“Stuff and nonsense,” Luisa huffed. “Lena doesn’t want to listen to your ghost stories.”
“We do.” The woman and her husband looked to Martin with eager expression. “It’s the perfect weather for a ghost story. Is it a local ghost?”
“He lives about half a block down, that way,” Martin waved his hand absently. “But, you can see him walking down the street, sometimes at night. Especially when it has been snowing. You know he’s a ghost because he’s dressed in stockings and breeches—and a three-cornered hat—you know, the kind men wore in the early eighteenth century.”
“So, a ghost unrelated to the witch trials?” The woman sounded almost disappointed.
Martin laughed. “Everything around here ends up pointing to the witch trials, one way or another. Some people say that this man had an ancestor that had been cursed by one of the witches. Others say that he was descended from a witch. One this is very sure, though—he was terribly unlucky in love.”
The woman made a sighing sound. Lena made a face to herself. She’d never understood what was romantic about tragedy. Despite herself, she wanted to listen to this story. Ignoring, of course, the fact that Martin had waved his hand in the direction of her own, historical monument of a house.
“This used to be the outskirts of town,” Martin said, warming to his story. His face was lit up with excitement that, for once, he had an audience that wanted to hear what he had to say. “Our ghost was a prosperous man in these parts, and known to be a quiet gentleman. He kept to himself, so of course there were gossips who said that he was surly and thought too well of himself. That he was too proud to marry a local girl.”
How could Martin possibly know such a thing? Lena wondered, but she gave in to the magic of the story-telling.
“The stories agree that he was a handsome man. You thought he was handsome, when you saw him, didn’t you, Luisa?”
The chef made a huffing sound, but made no move to go back to the kitchen.
“So, he was handsome and wealthy, and could have married any girl in these parts just for the asking, but he never seemed interested in any of them. Not until a girl showed up at his door, shivering with the cold on a night just like this.” Martin knew he had his listeners hooked now. He spoke softly, forcing them to lean closer and hold their breaths to be able to hear. “No one knew anything about her. Not who her people were, not where she had come from. It was love at first sight, they say. He built up his house as a kind of shrine to her, and to their love. They married and gossip said that they were expecting their first child. But, it wasn’t to last.”
Lena heard the woman at the table sigh again, this time regretfully. “What happened?”
“The girl disappeared,” Martin said. “The records don’t say how or why—they didn’t in those days, you know. But, the legend that my grandfather learned from his grandfather, and passed down to me, was that she ran away from him. No one ever saw her again.”
Gasps of sympathetic horror filled the room.
“He didn’t live long after she vanished,” Martin continued, ignoring the shocked faces surrounding his casual mention of murder. “It might have been an accident, but again it might have not. He was killed in a fall off of that big, proud stallion of his, while he was out searching for his lost love. That’s why he still walks to this day. They say that he’s looking for her still… unable to rest until he finds her again.”
Lena rubbed her icy fingers together. The chill had nothing to do with the snow outside and everything to do with the ghost story Martin was reciting.
“What was her name?” The woman asked, her hands clasped together. “What was his name?”
“His name was Edward Pryce,” Martin said. “As for the girl… the only name we have for her is ‘Mellie’.”



Elizabeth A Reeves is a socially-phobic introvert with a rich fantasy life. While physically she may be a mother to five boys (and a wife to one more), mentally she is roaming universes and planes of existence known only to her.

She tries to capture some of these for other book-lovers like her to enjoy.

Find her on Facebook
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