Sunday, June 30, 2024

Charity Sunday: Fighting for the Right to Love #LGBTQ #CharitySunday #PrideMonth

Charity Sunday banner 2024

Welcome to our June Charity Sunday event. Given that today is the last day of Pride Month, I’ve selected GLAD as my June cause. GLAD is an organization that fights the seemingly endless legal battles for LGBTQ rights and equality. It was founded in 1978, and has a long history of success. Alas, even in the United States, LGBTQ individuals and families are still not free to love and free from discrimination or persecution.

It exhausts me to see the virulence with which some people attack individuals with non-mainstream sexual identities. Honestly, why should they care? Is it a question of fear? A desire for power? Or frustration and despair that needs scapegoats?

Anyway, for today’s Charity Sunday I’ll donate two dollars to GLAD for every comment I receive, to support their focused and highly effective mission.

Meanwhile, I have a brief excerpt from my MM paranormal erotic romance At the Margins of Madness. This novel is basically contemporary, and it’s set in the liberal state of Massachusetts. Neverthelss, protagonist Rob Murphy, a city police officer, still can’t be open about his desires.


Both power and love can lead to madness

Nineteen year old Kyle has devastating visions of horrific disasters. Everyone assumes Kyle is schizophrenic, but Rob, the cop who picks him up off the street, knows better. Since his telepathic sister's brutal murder, Rob wants nothing to do with "gifted" individuals like Kyle. Yet he can't deny his attraction to the beautiful, tortured young man -- an attraction that appears to be mutual.


Rob woke to find Kyle stretched out beside him, one arm flung over his eyes, the other crossed over his breast. The young man’s face was relaxed, the pale brow smooth, the ripe lips parted slightly. Rob leaned close, aching for a kiss. He felt Kyle’s breath against his face. Better to let the kid sleep. Between the recent surgery and their activities last night, Kyle was probably exhausted.

Rob, though, felt more energized than he could remember. It had been years since he had shared a bed with someone. Not since Gina had kicked him out. After that, he couldn’t risk anything like a long-term relationship. The force tolerated his sexual preferences, but only as long as he didn’t flaunt them. So he had to be content with blow jobs and jack-offs from guys he met in the small hill towns around the city, towns where nobody knew him. Once or twice a year, he’d treat himself to a weekend in New York City, cruising the gay clubs, indulging himself in all the hot male flesh he could handle. It was fun, but not exactly satisfying.

He allowed himself to gawk at Kyle’s lithe, perfect body. The skin was like creamy marble, with only the slightest flush of blood. In fact, he could have been a Greek statue, a youthful warrior, slender but strong. The muscled chest and molded thighs were hairless, but curly tufts of black adorned in his armpits and groin. The hair in his crotch was matted with dried semen—Rob’s and his own.

Rob’s cock gave a little jump at the recollection. It had been so good, so very good. He could still taste a faint bitterness from the cum Kyle had pumped into his mouth, after a leisurely blow job that had made Rob go hard again, too. Kyle’s own mouth was agile and muscular. He sucked cock with a talent unusual for his age. How many cocks had he swallowed in order to keep his belly full? Rob didn’t want to think about that, though he couldn’t really figure out whether he felt sympathy or jealousy.

The boy’s penis nestled, half-erect, in its furry black nest. It was circumcised, pale as the rest of his flesh, but with a ruby-red helmet. As though it felt the weight of Rob’s scrutiny, the cock twitched and swelled a bit more.

Unable to resist, Rob bent over Kyle’s crotch. His nostrils filled with the mingled odors of sweat and semen. Behind these more blatant scents, Kyle’s flesh had a smell of its own, a smoky musk that reminded Rob of autumn leaves. Saliva pooled in Rob’s mouth. He extended his tongue, intending to circle the shiny crimson bulb, to wake the boy with a lewd kiss. He was interrupted by a ring from the phone.

Rob was too disciplined to just let it ring. It might be headquarters. It might be Gina, some emergency involving the kids. He rose, careful not to wake his slumbering companion, and padded out to the hall in bare feet.

Hello.” His voice sounded like gravel. It must be pretty early.

Sergeant Murphy? This is Lois Albright from Community Relations.”

Oh, right. Good morning. What can I do for you, Lois?”

Yesterday evening, you called the night desk, correct?”

Yes, I did. I wanted them to check something for me.”

The train tracks in Holden.”

Right. Why?” A chill shot up Rob’s spine. “Did they find anything?”

Ten seconds of silence at the other end of the line. “Two officers from Holden found a fifteen-year-old boy, screaming in pain, lying on the rails with a broken leg.”

What?” Rob didn’t really want to hear anymore, but he had to know. “Was he hit by a train?”

No, thank goodness. It seems he climbed over a fence and fell onto the tracks. The landing snapped his femur in three places.”

Jesus, Mary and Joseph!”

The fall happened around ten p.m., according to the kid. There was a freight train due through at five past midnight. If they hadn’t found him—if you hadn’t sent them over there—well, I don’t want to think about what might have happened.”

Rob found himself gasping for breath. There was a ringing in ears. This couldn’t be happening, not again. He couldn’t bear it.

He tried to focus on the voice at the other end of the line. “What? I’m sorry, I missed that.”

They want to give you a citation for service. The town of Holden.”

No, that’s okay. Never mind.”

You saved the kid’s life, Sergeant Murphy.”

No, really…”

How did you know? What made you call?”

Rob pictured Kyle, stretched out in the guest room, exhausted and seductive. It wasn’t possible to see the future. Was it? 


At the Margins of Madness banner

Find all the buy links for At the Margins of Madness at

Please leave a comment! Every one supports gay, lesbian, transgender and non-binary people struggling for equality and justice. 

The other bloggers participating in today's event have equally worthy charities. I hope you'll visit them, too.

Friday, June 28, 2024

Writing what you know – #Suspense #WomanInPeril #DamagedHeroine @AlexanderLyndi

Florida crossroads

By Alana Lorens (Guest Blogger)

Thank you for hosting me, Lisabet!

I’m really excited to announce the release of CRUEL CHARADE, which comes out from The Wild Rose Press on July 10. They say to write what you know, and I know the life of an attorney practicing in Miami, Florida, because I did it for several years. Miami is a beautiful city, tropical and musical and full of fun things to eat and do. Back in the mid-90s, it was also home to a lot of crime and under-the-table dealings that were worth a lot of money. A LOT.

Bet Lenard, the sassy, damaged heroine in this story, has and is still going through a lot, not the least of which is some severe chronic pain that doctors haven’t been able to diagnose. In fact, they think at the beginning that she’s making it up, perhaps drug-seeking? “All in your head.” Sounding familiar to anyone? It sure is familiar to me. Poor Bet.

Eventually, they call it fibrositis (what they now call fibromyalgia), and send her home with over-the-counter pain meds. But for Bet, working in a high-stress environment, married to her law partner, raising two kids, this isn’t going to do it for her. She turns to alcohol to dull the pain. And there begins the tragedy.


Miami attorney Bet Lenard has had a rough year. She’s battling an unknown illness that drives her to drink to cope with her pain. Her lawyer husband has divorced her and taken the best part of their business, their home and their children.

On the night of May 16, 1996, Bet finds herself in the Everglades in the middle of the night, drugged, lost and next to a burned car with a dead body in it. Hoping she’s hit bottom, Bet must drag herself out of her living hell and discover who tried to kill her. Was it her ex-husband, not satisfied with stealing everything that mattered? An angry client, unhappy with the outcome of their case? Her best friend’s husband, livid that Bet’s restraining order kicked him out of her life forever? Police officers fuming that Bet helped a client convict a dirty cop who was their friend? She has no idea.

As she tries to sort out the motives behind her would-be killer, even more suspects come to light. The only thing keeping Bet sane is her relationship with her therapist, who encourages her to struggle and survive, despite everything that’s gone wrong. How will Bet discover the truth and bring her enemy to justice before they strike again and, this time, succeed?

Cruel Charade book cover


What is Richard up to? He doesn’t want to cause a scene. He’s waiting until we get inside. Do I need to have my mace in hand?

But he closed the door once Bet was comfortably seated and went around to get in the driver’s side. Once he fastened his seat belt, he started the car and eased it out of the lot, heading toward the Palmetto Expressway.

She laid her head back, suddenly tired, though she didn’t close her eyes. He wouldn’t get physical, that was a given. It wasn’t his way. He’d rather slice and tear with words.

That was never my way. But I’m certainly learning how from a diamond-sharp teacher.

He didn’t speak until they were on the freeway. “Did you see who took our card, Bettina? Miguel Corrado. You know who that is?”


Richard’s voice warmed with enthusiasm. “In Palm Beach they call him El Rey Escorpión. The Scorpion King. He’s rumored to have ties in every port from here to Havana. Smuggles products from marijuana to cocaine to genuine Castro cigars.” He pulled a well-wrapped cigar from his pocket. “You know what this is worth on the black market?”

Really? That’s what you’re going to talk about? Cocaine? Cigars? She sighed, confused and a little hurt. “I really don’t, Richard.”

Twenty-five dollars.” He beamed. His eyes sparkled and his teeth shone white, illuminated by the passing freeway lights. “He’s got our card. If he brings us his business, we’ll increase revenue by $200,000 a year.”

That’s great.” It was great, actually. With a second child to put through college, they were going to need all the money they could make. “Good job, Richard.”

Yeah.” He continued driving, his focus on the road. When he rounded the bend and headed south on 826, he said, “I know I neglected you, after I asked you to come out with me. It was wrong, and I’m sorry.”

She glanced over at him, not expecting the real sincerity in his voice.

I’m always worried about providing for this family. I saw an opportunity and grabbed it.” He patted her leg. “I’m glad you got to dance.”

You’re not…mad?” Maybe it’s the contact high from the weed in the club. Or I’m going crazy?

Of course not. After all, you came home with me, right?” He laughed. “Nothing wrong with having a little fun out in the world, is there? You have your fun, then you come home. Where you belong.”

He reached for the radio controls and hit the button for the local pop station. Some bubble-gum song came on and ended the need for further talk.

You have your fun, then you come home. Were those words an exhortation to send her looking elsewhere for entertainment? Or did they mean more than that?

About the Author

Alana and Charlie

Alana Lorens (aka Barbara Mountjoy) has been a published writer for over 45 years, including seven years as a reporter/editor at the South Dade News Leader in Homestead, Florida, after working as a server, a pizza maker, and a floral designer. She writes non-fiction, romance, adventure, and suspense novels. She is the author of the Pittsburgh Lady Lawyers series, which draws on her years as a family law attorney in the state of Pennsylvania. One of the causes close to her heart came from those years as well–the fight against domestic violence. She volunteered for many years at women’s shelters and provided free legal services to women and children in need. Alana resides in North Carolina, and she loves her time in the smoky blue mountains. She lives with her daughter, who is the youngest of her seven children, and she is ruled by three crotchety old cats, and six kittens of various ages.

Author Links




Amazon Author Page

Book trailer:


Twitter: @AlexanderLyndi


Buy Links

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Thursday, June 27, 2024

A twisted trail of greed and blood – #Suspense #Pyschopath #Giveaway

Dungeon of Horrors tour banner


The bank’s newest Trust Officer Terri Stanley prepares the requested department’s internal audit. Finding puzzling inconsistencies and a jumble of misappropriations and unexplained offshore accounts, she follows protocol and immediately punches in the listed number for the Executor-Trustee, Craige Ingram.

Wealthy land owner/part-time PI Craige Ingram reaches the file back to homicide Lt. Grayson MacGerald after finishing a quick read-through of the preliminary forensic report from Coroner Fred Dinkins on the unexpected death of bank President Royce Sedgewicke. Dinkins’ meticulous autopsy findings verify that a massive apparent heart attack was not from natural causes, confirming what these longtime SEAL buddies suspected.

When Ingram gets a call from Terri Stanley, the bank’s attractive, newly-hired Trust Officer, wanting to discuss in confidence possible account irregularities discovered during her audit, he never imagines the twisted world of money and greed that would involve a psychopath’s trail of bloody body parts strewn along Ingram's river property, or that Terri and her son would disappear.

Confronted by a race against time, Ingram fears that Terri might become one more on the list of dead who crossed a twisted mind bent on thrill-kills and retribution.

Dungeon of Horrors book cover



Terri had no trouble with Craige’s directions. A half hour later, she turned into Ardochy’s meandering white-graveled drive and spotted Craige waiting on the steps of Ardochy’s columned porte-cochère carriage porch. Terri thought of her father and his brushy-browed scowl at her for breaking his business rule. Once her father learned of her infatuation with a teller at his Napa Valley Bank. “Never mix business with anything else, and never on your own doorstep,” he told her. He never mentioned it again.

As her car pulled up and stopped, Craige hurried down the steps to open her door. “I see you made it.” As she stepped out, his eyes followed every turn of the shapely ankles.

It was no problem.” Her thoughts cluttered. Feelings surfaced she’d had since that first time they’d met. Now they surged, somehow stronger, with his nearness. Terri would never have believed her good sense could be so altogether rattled, and she tried not to think about what Irene had said. In the private sanctions of her heart, Terri tried to keep her mind on why she came—it wasn’t working.

Come on in the kitchen.” Craige held open one of the double-carriage porch doors. “I iced a fresh pitcher of tea.” He led her through the butler’s pantry into the sedate library.

Oh my, all these marvelous books…” Terri murmured.

It’s my favorite room in Ardochy,” Craige smiled. “All for the enjoyment of reading. Theosia left me several first editions. Sit down, make yourself comfortable.”

The soft leather chairs, Tiffany lamps, and comfy reading niches made the high ceiling expanse of shelves somehow cozy. She looked around the library with its frescos in delicate pastel blushes, intricate friezes and matching tiered chandeliers heavy with Austrian crystal drops. Without seeming out of place or time, she thought he seemed to belong to this refined, patinaed ambience of high ceilings and ornate carvings. He filled the Chippendale chair as though he belonged—male supremacy without being rawboned. Terri sat, recalling private times with her mother, of parlor rites and playing dress up that wasn’t all play-act—learning to sit, stand and walk properly; how to set an afternoon high tea, finger cakes and scones. Terri wished she hadn’t hurried her makeup that morning. Had she used too much perfume? Did he find it pleasant? She’d refreshed her lipstick before she left to come here—what if it was on her front teeth? She found herself acting like a high-school subdeb.

If you prefer, there’s unsweetened tea.” Craige iced his glass with the tongs from the silver and crystal ice bucket.

No,” she said. “It’s fine.” His devil-may-care rakish smile, the dark auburn reflections from his hair and the fiery golden flecks in his green eyes kept getting in the way of why she came. “With so little to go on, I’m not sure where to start,” Terri began. She tried to soothe her jitters.

About what?” Craige asked, picking up on her nervousness.

Terri knew she was taking a risk. He could be part of it, yet some inherent trust told her different. She handed him several folders.

Perhaps I’m overreacting.” She looked straight at Craige without wavering. “Several of the portfolios don’t quite add up. There're stocks, mutual funds, international oil, precious metals, grain futures, money markets. Some of it’s over my head.”

He jigsawed any number of reasons she might have for coming out here. Her eyes seemed to swallow the room. At least he was lost in them. He wanted her visit to be more than just business. “An audit should take care of that.”

On that matter there’s been some foot dragging,” she replied. “Enough to leave me somewhat uncomfortable.”

It struck Craige as an odd remark for a bank officer, even more so about her own bank. He studied the bottomless eyes of this wholly female creature, and his gut feeling told him this visit wasn’t a concoction.

About the Author

Hawk McKinney head shot

Internationally acclaimed author and public speaker, Hawk MacKinney began writing mysteries for his school newspapers. Following graduation, he served in the US Navy for over 20 years. While serving as a Navy Commander, he also had a career as a full-time faculty member at several major state medical facilities. He earned two postgraduate degrees with studies in languages and history and has taught postgraduate courses in both the United States and Jerusalem, Israel.

In addition to professional articles and texts on fetal and adult anatomy, Hawk has authored several novels that have received national and international recognition. Moccasin Trace, a historical novel, was nominated for the prestigious Michael Shaara Award for Excellence in Civil War Fiction and the Writers Notes Book Award,

Known for his terrifying suspense and unique “Southron” dialog, Hawk has published five novels in the Moccasin Hollow Mysteries: Hidden Chamber of Death, Westobou Gold, Curse of the Ancients, Dead Gold, and Blood of the Dragonfly.

In a change of direction, Hawk has also published three books in The Cairns of Sainctuarie science fiction series: The Bleikovat Event, Volume I; The Missing Planets, Volume II; and The Inanna Phantom, Volume III.

His latest work is a series called the Moccasin Trace Mysteries. Dungeon of Horrors is the first book in the series, and the second book – Blood in the Shadows – is in development.



The author will award a $20 Amazon/BN GC to one randomly drawn winner.

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Wednesday, June 26, 2024

Join us for Charity Saturday, 30 June 2024 #CharitySundaySignup #Altruism #Marketing

Butterfly on a daisy

Image by Erik Karits from Pixabay

Since 2017, I’ve been devoting the last Sunday in each month to a post which features some worthy cause. Often, other bloggers join me in this effort, turning the event into a blog hop. This month’s Charity Sunday blog hop will take place this coming Sunday, the 30th of June.

Charity Sunday is a meme designed to give authors and bloggers a chance to give back to the world, as well as to attract new readers.

How does it work? Each participant selects a favorite charity. Before
the date, you should prepare a blog post that: 1) talks about the charity and why you support it; 2) provides a link to the charity; 3) includes an excerpt from one of your books; 4) includes the code to show links to other participating blogs.

It’s fun if you can make the excerpt relate somehow to your chosen charity, but this isn’t required.

For every comment left on your post, you commit to giving some amount to the relevant charity. The specific charity and the amount to donate are up to you. You can set an upper limit to your donation if you want.

If you’d like to participate in the next Charity Sunday
on June 30th, sign up using the Linky List below. Please be sure that the link you enter will lead directly to your Charity Sunday post, not just to the home page of your blog.

You can get the 2024 Charity Sunday banner here:

For an example post, check out this link from my last Charity Sunday:

Monday, June 24, 2024

Love discovered, nurtured and shared -- #ComingOfAge #LiteraryFiction #Review

Exiles tour banner


In this final chapter, Ron's story concludes from Reflections on the Boulevard (2023). Michael's wish was for Ron to exile himself in the heart of Paris with its beautiful culture and citizens as they protest and fight for the soul of the city. Ron's journey is met with life-affirming friendships and lessons along the way. The final book in the Reflections of Michael Trilogy, which started with A Reservoir Man (2022).


Ron, weak in the legs from forgetting the spirit of his youth, had been managing bookstores more than living life. His legs pumped forward. but with the awkwardness of an old man who had forgotten how to walk. In a few seconds he was up to speed and ran faster to catch the thief.

Near the corner, Ron had missed his opportunity to slow and check for other people walking, so he slammed into a group of women. He especially blasted into an old lady whose groceries flew into the sky, and a yogurt splattered against a wall and the faces of the other women. She turned to condemn her assailant, but he was already on the next block in pursuit of the thief.

He spotted the thief at the Notre Dame Hotel, out of breath, leaning against a pillar. Surprised at the thief’s choice to stop here, he slowed down and let his feet pound the street into a halt.

Ron grabbed at him but still missed his shoulder.

Give me the book back!” he said, very loudly.

The thief just shrugged his shoulder, a mocking smile. His smile made the act of chasing him through the streets feel silly, as if this were a game that had been played and he took it too seriously.

The thief looked at Ron and asked, sarcastically, “What language are you speaking?”

What do mean? I am speaking French!”

Our thief laughed, turned to a random man who walked down the street, and said, "This young man thinks he is speaking French Go ahead say something to this stranger; he will tell you are speaking some other language other than French!”

I will call the police,” Ron said firmly.

Exiles book cover

Review by Lisabet Sarai

Exiles by L.J. Ambrosio is not a romance. Nevertheless, it is first and foremost a story of love—love discovered, sometimes among strangers; love nurtured, in the face of sorrow and loss; love magnified, multiplied and passed on to the next human who needs it.

I haven’t read the first two books in the Michael trilogy, though I did host the author’s tour for the second book, Reflections on the Boulevard.

There are enough references and recollections in this volume that I think I can piece together the general shape of the trilogy. Michael was an older man who befriended, cherished and guided Ron, the protagonist of Exiles. They traveled together, learning from their experiences and from one another. In this book, Michael has passed on, but his influence on Ron remains profound. Honoring a promise made to his mentor, Ron moves to Paris, “exiling” himself in a new country and culture. He takes over as manager of the legendary Shakespeare and Company bookstore (, where he meets (actually apprehends) young Louie, the conflicted and emotionally vulnerable scion of a wealthy Parisian family. Taking Louie under his wing, Ron tries to help the youth make sense of his desires, ideals and goals. He plays a role similar to that which Michael played in his own life.

Louie becomes one of the bookstore’s Tumbleweeds, a person passing through a phase of life for whom the store provides sanctuary. As Louie fights in the streets for his beliefs about social justice and falls in love with the lovely, fragile Lily, Ron offers what help he can—and his own wisdom and understanding continue to grow in the process.

As befits the title, the city of Paris is almost a character in this story, offering scenes of beauty that sometimes evoke the same sort of awe one experiences in nature. Powerfully emotional, the book rings with a sincerity that is rather rare in “literary” works. It’s obvious that this is a personal story, a fictionalized memoir that is written with little art but with great soul.

I have deep respect for L.J. Ambrosio. Not everyone can write with such honesty, or be comfortable offering lessons that might seem old-fashioned but are, I believe, enduringly true.

About the Author

Author photo

Louis J. Ambrosio ran one of the most nurturing bi-coastal talent agencies in Los Angeles and New York. He started his career as a theatrical producer, running two major regional theaters for eight seasons. Ambrosio taught at 7 Universities. Ambrosio also distinguished himself as an award-winning film producer and novelist over the course of his impressive career.







Buy Links

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L.J. Ambrosio will be awarding a $20 Amazon/BN gift card, a dragonfly necklace, or a second dragonfly necklace to three randomly drawn winners via rafflecopter.

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Thursday, June 20, 2024

A dark quest of spirit and flesh – #DarkFantasy #Mythology #Giveaway @LukiBelleAuthor

Shakti of the Illuminated Lotus tour banner


In a fictitious, mysterious, and futuristic Earth, the Western and Eastern continents are poised to become entangled in an ancient holy rivalry and epic battle.

The enigmatic and powerful king of Asukhas rules over the technologically, scientifically, and militarily advanced Western Continent, closely guarding his blissfully ignorant population of captive humans.

The golden-haired spirit, Ahankara, is suddenly released from captivity in the void and unleashes a powerful reptile upon the world's oceans.

Associate professor of philosophy Anjali Valpolicella seeks psychotherapy from renowned Western psychologist Dr. AlexanDRA, and their therapy sessions may reveal an important secret to possessing the much-coveted Trident of Kumarun.

In Shakti of the Illuminated Lotus: A Dark, Erotic & Futuristic Fantasy for Adults oceans roil as factions doggedly compete in a dark and erotic quest to find the Trident, hidden by the Eastern continent's divine panthers for centuries. The fate of the World teeters on the brink. Who will possess the Trident? Do they want to use it to gain access to the holy realm of Juwala, or will they use the Trident to destroy the realm and take command of military forces of unimaginable power?


Cousin Ahankara! You escaped!! And with an unconscious Medhani!!” Kunjahl exclaimed and submerged himself in the ocean.

The waves instantly parted away from Kunjahl’s body, and the waters around him suddenly became calm. Kunjahl held up an unconscious Ahankara’s head upon his arms, the golden strands were covering his cousin’s face. Kunjahl gently blew upon the spirit’s face which made the golden hair delicately fall back and undulate upon the water’s surface.

Sol saw the two large golden horns extending and coiling out from the temples of the man’s head. His eyes skewed, the identity of these identical men and the child were not known to him. He repeated their names silently in his mind. Sol marveled at the intuition of the magister, now he understood why Kunjahl wanted to be here tonight by the ocean. Not even the king of the Western Continent was here tonight, despite The Spring being so close to where they were now at the tip of the New East Island. “

"Speak to me, awake my brother, let me hear your voice” Kunjahl spoke gently to the unconscious Ahankara “Tell me how you were released.”

Sol watched as a pair of golden eyes slowly opened and looked up at Kunjahl. The gaze of this man exuded an enchantment that even the likes of Sol could not resist admiring.

A faint smile appeared on Ahankara’s face “Kun-jahl?” he asked in a weak tone.

Yes! Yes, Ahankara it is I and you are safe in my arms now!” the son of Kumarun replied.

About the Author

Author image

Luki Belle works in the media industry. Listening avidly to stories from diverse cultural fiction books read to her by her extended family, storytelling was a fixture from early childhood. Pouring over magnificent and enchanting illustrated books in her family's library, Luki was drawn to the mythology of South Asian Indians, Greeks, and Romans. These diverse mythologies were her strongest inspiration when, many years later, she started penning the first outline for her debut novel, Shakti of the Illuminated Lotus.


Shakti of the Illuminated Lotus book cover

Luki Belle will award a $10 Amazon/BN gift card to a randomly drawn winner.


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