Running with the Orc: Excerpt 1
The club was packed, the drinks were flowing, and Daisy LaRue was about to go on stage for another night of comedy burlesque when…
“You have to see who’s here. I can’t believe it. He came. He never comes into the camp unless someone trips the alarm leading to the portal.”
I watched the woman from my world, Claudette, curiously. “Who?”
She didn’t respond, but quickly pushed me to the edge of the stage to look out through the curtain. When I caught a glimpse of what was sitting in VIP, the gasp that came from my lips rattled me, and I quickly slammed the curtain shut. With a heavy breath, I pinned myself to the nearby wall and hoped like hell he didn’t see me. My heart was racing, and I couldn’t believe he was here. I hoped I would never have to lay eyes on that man again—that stupid, green-skinned, gorgeous man.
“Bramwell Gronk,” I breathed, barely able to contain the sudden fear that fell over me.
“The leading commander of the orc army,” she noted with a little too much cheery swoon for my liking. “His warlord horde was the group who brought you back here… twice… no, three times… Wasn’t it? The warlords typically don’t—”
“Show up unless hunting us when we try to escape to reach the passage. Yeah, tell me something I don’t know.”
Damn her for stating the obvious. The last time we met, he swore he’d kill me if he ever saw my face again. His words were I’ll take care of you. Yeah, I’m sure he would, in a dark, primal ritual where he’d rip my heart from my chest as his men bellowed war chants to the rhythm of my still beating thumper, right before he took a big bite to claim his barbarian hierarchy.
That gnarly scar on his face from forehead to jawline is the reason I landed in an oubliette for two weeks… Or was it a month?
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Friday, May 22, 2026
Running with the Orc by Loretta Kendall ~ #MonsterRomance #Romance #Orc ~ @LorettaKAuthor
Monday, July 15, 2024
Release Week Book Blitz ~ Hooking Captain Teeth by Marilyn Barr ~ @author_barr @RABTBookTours #RABTBookTours #HookingCaptainTeeth #MarilynBarr #MonsterRomance
Hooking Captain Teeth
by Marilyn Barr
Monster Romance
Date Published: 07-15-2024
About the Book:
Captain Teeth
Orders—giving them, writing them, signing for them, and taking them—fill a Captain’s life. I miss the days when I climbed under skirts while on land and climbed the ratlines after we weighed anchor. The black spot on my pirate heart is due to my failure to find my lady love despite scouring the Caribbean for years. I’ve watched me hearties fall in love and drop from the sweet trade like flies, but this voyage to drop off my Quartermaster with his new bride in Mexico may break me…
Sabrina
Why shouldn’t I partake in the fancies of the human world when I sprout legs once a month? Swilling rum, dancing on tables, singing bawdy songs, and sampling every scallywag who catches my eye is harmless fun. I tell myself my behavior is entertainment…not to forget my soulmate who abandoned me five years ago at Maude’s Tavern. After a night of passion, he flipped a doubloon onto the sheets and sailed away. I can’t believe the scourge of the seven seas mistook his lady love for a common strumpet! My kind mates for life so if I ever see him again, I’ll sink him and his ship.
Nobody humiliates a Kraken.
Read an Excerpt:
A flirty remark dies on my tongue as the handsome pirate adjusts himself through the crotch of his leather pants. Nope. Too much. Too uncouth, too vulgar, too smarmy, too much for a part-time human like me. He’s as shameless as me but with twice the firepower. Not gracing him with another second of my attention, I twirl and dance along the table to the opposite end of the tavern. I’ll find a safer man to bed tonight.
I kick and tap to the beat with my skirts swishing above my knees for mediocre sailors, stealing furtive glances at the handsome blond pirate and his table of rowdy friends. I don’t dare approach the pirates of Patricia’s Wish. I do have some sense of self-preservation. The night flies by as shots are taken from my cleavage and poured down my throat by random drunks.
All the while, the pirate watches me from his corner.
The heat in his stare burns away my inhibitions and I find myself performing for him, using the attention from men closer to me as my props. Coins jingle in my pockets and shoes as I earn my night’s lodgings under the pirate’s lustful gaze. It isn’t long before I’m singing louder than the brothel’s girls on stage.
My peg-legged companion from earlier in the night leaves with his head shaking in warning. He can’t buss my cheeks. He’s not my father. My father’s at the bottom of the Atlantic Ocean with the other mated Kraken. I thumb my nose at the swinging doors as the sourpus exits the bar.
Time to secure a room from Jamal the Barkeep. Looks like I’ll be sleeping alone tonight, but some nights are slow. I’ve taken two or three men to my room in succession before selecting the one I will sleep beside. Nights like tonight balance the scales. I hope the working girls are luckier and wake up next to stacks of gold.
“Here’s one, two, five gold coins,” I count as I drop doubloons onto the bar top. Maude’s rate is three coins for rooms not occupied by her girls, so the two extra coins will go to Jamal’s savings. I hope he opens the beachside cantina of his dreams someday. “I’d like a room—the one at the far end of the hallway if it’s open.”
“Are you sure? Miss Opal has the room next to that one. Maybe take the first room,” Jamal says, swiping my coins into his hand. He trades them for a large, iron key. Being a ‘screamer’ is Miss Opal’s specialty. I’ll wake up with a banging headache if I’m in the room next to hers.
“Thanks for always looking out for me,” I reply, swiping the key off the bar top.
“Which room is ours?” I don’t need to turn around to know it’s the handsome, blond pirate behind me. My body ignites with the command in his question.
“I’m in room one,” I say, verifying the key is labeled with the number one. He steps toward me with a palm outstretched for the key. “You are bunking in the bilge of some ship with the rest of the sea sludge.”
He takes a predatory step forward. My back hits the bar. I clutch the key to my chest. It vibrates with the pounding of my heart or maybe that’s the shaking of my fingers. Blond hair tickles my nose as he leans over me, one arm resting on the bar to either side of my waist. His scent invades my nose. Blue eyes bore into me with an intensity that curls my toes in my boots.
“Tell me you don’t want me in your bed to pleasure you from head to toe and make your every fantasy come true, and I’ll disappear,” he whispers against my ear.
About the Author:
Marilyn Barr lives in the wilds of Kentucky with her husband, son, and rescue cats. When engaging in the real world, you can find her with the Kentuckiana Romance Writers, volunteering with her son’s Special Olympics teams, or dancing around her kitchen. She is a sucker (haha) for cheesy horror movies, Italian food, punk music, black cats, bad puns, and all things witchy.
Contact Links:
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Monday, April 24, 2023
Gigi’s Monster Garage (Ghouls and Gals, Book One) by Loretta Kendall ~ Monster Romance, RomCom ~ @LorettaKAuthor
Read Excerpt 2: Sweet Scene
“...It’s not good for people to have to dwell on death.”
Dropping her head to fiddle with her garage jumper’s zipper, she let out a breath.
“I worry about that. Some girls get deactivated when they remember their past. Frank-n-people can go mad when they remember how they died. They become obsessed with who they were before.”
Taking his eyes off the road for a moment, Fox wasn’t about to hear that. “Hell, no. I won’t let them de-animate you. They’ll have to kill me before I let that happen.”
In a fit of sudden anger at the thought, Fox pulled to the side of the road with tires screeching. The old truck's body shook violently as it came to a stop and dust from the roadside swirled around them.
The dirt that wafted in through the air vents made her choke as she looked at Fox like he’d lost his ever loven’ mind.
“Are you nuts? What is wrong with you?”
“I won’t let them do that to you. You’re not undead, Gigi. I’ve seen others like you. Those other creations are just basically walking, talking drones. You are nothing like them. You have a soul with real-life emotions and a beating heart.”
“That’s not true, Fox. I was made for Frank. He only wanted sex and a maid, so that was my design. It may not have been exactly what he ordered, but it’s how it is. Girls like me are made to serve. That’s it.”
“Really? Then why is it you have free will? Why are you not still bowing down to his every whim? And why the hell was he the only Frank-n-man to have a mate made for him since the original Frankenstein monsters? I’ve seen enough of those sex dolls to know they do whatever their masters say. You don’t call him master, nor do you ever refer to him as anything other than an abusive asshole. That, and whatever other choice word you can think of. If you were made for him, you wouldn’t hate him so much.”
“So, I’m just… stronger than the others. Maybe I’m a defective model.”
Fox nodded in agreement to that because she was right. “Yeah, you are. And for whatever reason, your creator let you be an individual, and that defect is absolute perfection. Maybe he didn’t want to see you as Frank’s slave. For whatever reason, he made you unique. Dare I say… human.”
Gigi didn’t know what to say. He was right, but no one had ever spoken to her like that. Even her friends never brought up her creator in such a way, except for Bear. She had wondered why she was different and why didn’t Victor keep to his sex doll plans.
“You’re special, stitches. And I for one, am thankful for it. You’re a kindhearted soul, and whatever you’re afraid of with Frank, I’ll fight to the death to protect you. I know Bear would too because that guy sees you like his little sister. He’s a good guy—you both are.”
“You barely know me,” she pouted.
“Yeah, but maybe I’m a man who sees you as more than just some sex toy to get off on. Others might see you that way, but I don’t. If I ever had the pleasure of making love to a woman as wonderful as you, it wouldn’t be about sex.”
“Oh yeah? Then what would it be?” she asked with a snarky tone, but still wanting to know.
Leaning in, Fox traced his finger down her lightning bolt scar, making her eyes slam shut expecting pain to come next. But it didn’t, making her curious as to why. His fingers traced her scar like it was a precious beauty mark and a soft breath escaped her lips when realizing he had no intention of hurting her.
When his lips grazed her earlobe, he answered, “It would be pure ecstasy. I’d make you feel things no man ever could. I’d show you what your heart wants, but you're too afraid to see.”
Tuesday, January 3, 2023
Teaser Tuesday ~ Cuddling My Chuchunya by Marilyn Barr @author_barr ~ @RABTBookTours #RABTBookTours #CuddlingMyChuchunya #MarilynBarr #MonsterRomance #EnterforaChance
Cuddling My Chuchunya by Marilyn Barr
Book 1 of Snuggling in Siberia
Monster Romance
Date Published: 01-13-2023
Dr. Vera Thompson
I am one reindeer sleigh ride away from academic notoriety and the corpse excavation which will catapult my career from junior anthropology fellow to tenured professor. Crossing the Siberian tundra is not for the faint of heart but with modern technology like a GPS, cell phone signal, and all-climate winter gear, I’ll reach the suspected Australopithecus body unearthed by the melting permafrost. One more day of dodging methane gas pockets under the ice and my life will change forever…
Artyom
The hairless ones swarmed around my brother’s body like flies from the southern land. Tradition dictates his next of kin perform his last rites, so I follow the erratic driving of the hairless ones from a foreign land. If these invaders discover my chuchunya clan, I fear we are too few to defend our territory under the ice. I don’t understand why the sled driver throws his passenger into a ground popper, but the cruel deed activates my coupling (dushevnayasvyaz) instincts to heat my body to an inferno…the first sign of a soul bond…
Stuck between loyalty to his clan’s secrecy and his biology, will Artyom trade injured Vera for Denis’s body? Will Vera choose modern conveniences in Ohio or stay in Siberia with the chuchunya who promises to cherish her? In such an unforgiving landscape, will Artyom prove his dushevnayasvyaz by pushing her toward an easier life, even if her leaving breaks both their hearts?
This book is for adults with cursing characters, mild violence, and steamy romantic scenes between a consenting human and a monster. To survive while isolated in Siberia, they must eat whatever food is available—whether it is a reindeer companion or not.
Read an Excerpt:
I land cradled in his arms about a foot off the ground. My feet scrape along the stone floor as he draws me inside a small chamber. A high-powered flashlight tied to the ceiling illuminates his face…
Without the mask over his mouth, I get a view of a living Australopithecus…
A flat nose, thin lips, and intelligent blue eyes are inches from my own. His muzzle juts out to accommodate his enlarged tongue that I don’t need to see to know it’s there. I’ve studied his form in books for half my life. In a surprisingly human gesture, he swings his chin to shake ice crystals from his hair. Those monstrous fingers comb back the strands from his brow, along the back of his head, and over his furry left shoulder.
“I must have a concussion,” I murmur. My fingers have a mind of their own and investigate the contours of his face before shrinking back in mortification.
“Or you just find me that repulsive,” he says as his chin lowers to his chest. With a grunt, he lifts me to his chest and carries me to a stack of furs. I can’t breathe. My research. My studies. My obsession for the last eight years of post-secondary education has emerged from my anthropology articles to rescue me.
My Pleistocene Epoch Chapters…written about the Earth two million years ago…
Maybe I hit my head and I’m passed out at the bottom of the methane pit…but there was water, so I would have drowned by now. Did I imagine swimming, Balky, Artyom, and perhaps the entire accident? I rip off my gloves to pinch the back of my hand. My heart pounds as the sting registers.
I’m not dreaming. My imagination couldn’t have conjured him.
“Please don’t run,” he says when I attempt to scramble to my feet. “If we don’t secure your hip, you may injure yourself permanently.”
I wish I could say I’m focused on my hip, but it’s numb so I push my injuries to the bottom of my problems list. He would be more confident if he incapacitated me with his herbs, right? So why aren’t I screaming in fear? Being isolated with a monster should scare the hell out of me, but he kneels before me like a queen as I rest on a pile of furs. I’m dumbstruck with attraction. Bright blue eyes blaze with compassion from a nest of ivory hair. The thick coarse locks cover his face and hang in a neat beard. Finer, whiter hair is swept backward on his head. It drapes over his shoulders over coarse fur. He isn’t wearing furs but is covered in thick white hairs with strands of auburn peeking through. When my eyes trail to the darker patch over his lap, I snap them up to his face.
Where he’s blushing…without his half-face mask.
Could he be more fascinating?
“But you are from the Pleistocene Epoch and using a modern flashlight! You are like Schrodinger’s cat—both extinct and alive at the same time!”
“I do not know this Schrodinger, his cat, or half the words you said. Polina is a hairless one like you, who is the mate to our leader, Timor. She trades our skins and fish for batteries and lights in the leto season,” he says with a severe frown. I miss half his explanation because I’m too busy watching his thin lips form the sounds. I could study his speech patterns for decades and not have all my questions answered.
What would it feel like to kiss a mouth with a pronounced maxillary bone and an enlarged tongue?
The thought is so wrong. It makes me want to kiss him...and explore our differences. My fingers itch to touch him. I have a million questions to ask him about his life. First and foremost, is there a female he keeps in this cave…if not, where do I sign up? I could study his handsome face for years and not lose interest—amazing since my dating life has been as exciting as reading the dictionary. Should I be shocked my mind is contemplating blowing off my dig to study this specimen?
And I can’t blame my body’s response to him on a head injury…
About the Author:
Marilyn Barr currently resides in the wilds of Kentucky with her husband, son, and rescue cats. She has a diverse background containing experiences as a child prodigy turned medical school reject, published microbiologist, special education/inclusion science teacher, homeschool mother of a savant, certified spiritual & energy healer, and advocate for the autistic community. This puts her in the position to bring tales containing heroes who are regular people with different ability levels and body types, in a light where they are powerful, lovable, and appreciated.
When engaging with the real world, she is collecting characters, empty coffee cups, and unused homeschool curricula. She is a sucker (haha) for cheesy horror movies, Italian food, punk music, black cats, bad puns, and all things witchy.
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