Tuesday, February 4, 2014

Release Day!

Our newest book, Misfit Prophets Beneath a Bankrupt Sky, is now available! This is S. Zanne's debut novel, and we're very excited to have this sexy bit of Depression era paranormal romance. 

Raymond Hollingsworth and Isaac Sorenson had it all. The golden sons of political rival families in 1930's New York, their futures were planned all the way to the White House. The family's bid to keep the two apart resulted in a terrifying mistake and a lifelong disability.  

Now they've found themselves in a new, more accepting family of assorted freaks and oddities in a traveling circus. Hiding under assumed names, Raymond and Isaac pose as a brother team of oracles, forseeing the future for a dime a head. It wasn't the future they'd hoped for, but it seems to be working for them...as long as no one discovers the secrets they're hiding.

Price includes shipping and handling. Please enclose address of delivery if paperback is desired.
Notice: Explicit M/M sexual situations, romance, and scenes of violence.

Have a quick taste:
What it all came down to was a hard truth: a man had to make a buck where he could, even if it wasn’t the life he had planned.

The one spot of color, faded though it might be, was the small, traveling carnival that had set up shop just outside of town. A dozen mid-size tents took pride of place within the circle of caravans, the sun-paled green, blue, and red panels still holding together despite the sudden surges of wind that occasionally rattled them on their poles.  A Ferris wheel circled nearby, a cheerful tune accompanying its endless rotations; smaller rides surrounded it, the darkening sky making the yellow lights edging the machinery blaze like stars fallen to earth. Voices called out into the crowd, coercive and beguiling, luring the customers in to witness the unbelievable – a human alligator, Siamese twins, harem dancers, a modern-day Hercules.

All the unnatural wonders of the world available in their own backyard, just for a dime a head - a thin slip of silver, or ten pennies to a lesser man.

The customers were all too willing to overlook the garish face paint that hid the tired eyes, the questionably rusty rides that squeaked out of time with the music, and the poorly made carnival prizes that didn’t last past the evening, or were left forgotten next to the cotton candy stands in favor of a sweeter treat. When every day was an endless struggle to find food, shelter, or even just peace of mind, a dime wasn’t too much to pay for that glimmer of hope – even if the dream dissolved with the harsh reality of sunrise and the distant line of caravans disappearing over the horizon. 

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