Category Archives: Teasers

Essence Teaser Tuesday

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(Splintered Bloodlines 3)

LGBTQ / M/M / Fantasy

Date Published: November 28, 2025

 

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Bobby’s always had a thing for silver foxes. Still has. Just never
expected to find the ultimate one is his fated mate.

Bobby Kirkland leads a simple life — mostly simple, considering his budding
romance with the esteemed Deacon Saridan, head vamp of House Saridan.

Amid the romance and Bobby’s exploration of the BDSM lifestyle with his new
mate, a string of murders leads Deacon to believe that a familiar, though
certainly not kind, face has shown itself in the lands of House
Saridan… and this threat proves to be an even bigger challenge than
first thought.

WARNING: Adult language and situations, including BDSM

 

Excerpt

 

All rights reserved.

 

Copyright ©2025 Mychael Black

 

Deacon

“How’s he doing? Fitting in okay?”

The dock foreman, Toryn, leaned against the frame of the plate-glass window we
stood at as we watched the workers in the shipping area below. “Seems to
be. He gets along with the guys pretty well.”

I glanced at him, one eyebrow raised. “But…”

He sighed. “He struggles to stay on task sometimes, and he tends to
daydream a good bit. Not a bad thing inherently, but not great when working
around forklifts and eighteen-wheelers.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. The young man who’d captured my
attention weeks ago was indeed a bit flighty at times. According to Cam, Bobby
Kirkland had always been that way, and a diagnosis of ADHD as a pre-teen had
answered a lot of questions. He needed structure and routine, in my opinion.
I’d hoped working here would give him that, but he still seemed to have
trouble staying focused on occasion.

The bell signaling the end of the workday rang out in the warehouse. I spotted
Bobby going toward the door that led into the large breakroom where the
lockers were. Beside me, Toryn snickered softly.

“I’m surprised you haven’t claimed him yet.”

I turned away from the window. “Soon.”

I followed him out of my office and downstairs. Most of the workers were
already heading home, but a few — including Bobby — remained in the
breakroom. Toryn patted my shoulder and went to his own locker. The others
glanced over at me, and a couple of them shot Bobby teasing smirks. Even from
the doorway, I saw him blush. There wasn’t any hint of jealousy with
this group, thankfully. When Bobby met my gaze, I discreetly gestured for him
to join me upstairs. He nodded, and I headed back up. Once I claimed him,
we’d be able to speak telepathically and not worry about coworker
issues. Then again, he also wouldn’t be working either, but that was a
discussion for another day.

A few minutes after I sat down on the small couch in my office, the door
opened. Bobby smiled, though there was a good bit of nervousness behind it. He
shut the door and sat a couple of feet beside me at my urging. I twisted a
little to face him and got comfortable.

“How was work?”

“Good,” he said, fidgeting a bit with his hands, like he
didn’t know what to do with them. One leg bounced a little.

“Have you had any problems with your coworkers?”

Bobby didn’t answer right away, which told me everything I needed to
know. I reached over and put my hand on his knee, stilling the movement almost
immediately. His eyes widened for a moment, making him seem far younger than
thirty-one. Of course, at my age, he was young.

“What is it? You can tell me anything, Bobby.”

He swallowed and tore his gaze from mine. I waited while he thought about
whatever he wanted to say. Finally, he spoke. “Just a couple of guys who
seem to think I’m an idiot.” He looked back up at me.
“I’m not. I just get… distracted sometimes, hyper focused
at others.”

“No, you’re definitely not an idiot. You wouldn’t be working
here if so,” I said. “Have they done or said anything directly to
you?”

“No, but I’ve caught a few whispers here and there,” he
replied. “Not to mention the weird glances.” He shrugged and
sighed. “I feel like I’m back in fucking high school, to be
honest. It’s ridiculous.”

I chuckled softly and gave his knee a gentle squeeze. “I have a
potential solution then, but I think we need to have a good, long talk before
we go any further.”

Bobby nodded and stared down at my hand. “I honestly started to worry
that this was a one-sided thing,” he muttered.

Unable to resist, I lifted my hand to cup his chin, tilting his head until I
was looking into those soulful brown eyes. I stroked my thumb across his lower
lip, and he let out a soft gasp. “I assure you, this is very much
mutual. That said, there are details we must go over first.”

“Those details have anything to do with your necklace?”

I smiled and lifted the thin chain from under my shirt. Light reflected off
the tiny handcuff pendant accented with garnets. “Indeed. How about we
have dinner, and we can chat?”

“Sounds good to me. I need to let Dad and Cam know where I’ll be.
I don’t have to, but it’s an old habit.”

“Absolutely, and a good one to have. Do you have any food preferences or
sensitivities I need to know about?”

“I’m lactose intolerant, but that’s it.”

“Understood. Let Beau and Cam know what’s going on and then meet
me in my chambers upstairs. Normally, I’d take you out, but the things
we need to discuss are not for anyone else’s ears.”

His gaze shifted a bit, and I couldn’t ignore the urge any longer.
Fingers gripping his chin, I tipped his head and leaned close. Bobby’s
soft moan the moment our lips touched sent almost overwhelming need rushing
through me. His scent — a decadent mix of soap, shampoo, and something woodsy
yet sweet — filled every part of my psyche. The urge to bite flitted through
my mind, but I shoved it away for now. I knew he was mine; I didn’t need
to taste his blood to confirm it.

Bobby opened for me, pliant, eager, and so insanely delicious. I released his
chin and cupped the back of his head, pushing the kiss into hungrier territory
for both of us. Before I could lose control and take him right here, though, I
made myself pull back. He grumbled, and I nipped his lower lip before soothing
it with my tongue.

“Dinner,” I murmured. “I need to taste every inch of you but
not before we talk.”

 

About the Author

Mychael Black has been writing professionally since 2005. He writes gay
romance and erotica, but also het romance as Carys Seraphine and queer fantasy
as Katherine Cook.

He’s an avid PC gamer with a love for RPGs, a horror fanatic, and a fantasy
nut. He also has a weakness for anything relating to skulls, dogs, and
Spongebob Squarepants.

Mychael lives on the Eastern Shore of the US with his family. He loves to hear
from readers, be it via email or Facebook.

 
 

 

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Sully Teaser Tuesday

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Book Title: Sully (Kiss of Death MC)

Motorcycle Club Romance, Suspense, Age Gap

Date Published: November 21, 2025

 

Sully

An ex-con biker. A wild heroine. One night isn’t nearly enough.

Sully — Fresh out of prison, I’m done with chaos. Whiskey, silence, and
my brothers in the Kiss of Death MC — that’s all I want or need. Until
Darby storms into Throttle. She’s sharp-tongued, fearless, and dangerous
as hell. She stirs trouble like it’s an art form, and I should walk
away. But when she looks at me, I feel alive for the first time in years.
She’s the kind of trouble that could wreck me. And I want every second
of it.

Darby — I don’t stick. Not to towns, not to people, sure as hell not to
men. Stirring up chaos and disappearing before the fallout, that’s how I
roll. Then Sully happens. A rough around the edges ex-con. All scars and quiet
control. He should terrify me. Instead, he makes me want to stay. But staying
means dragging him into the shadows I’ve been running from, and the men
hunting me won’t stop until I’m gone for good.

One night was supposed to be enough. Now neither of us can let go.

And the danger chasing me just found us both.


Warning: This book contains dark themes, adult relationships and language,
violence, and situations some readers may find triggering. Intended for mature
audiences only.

 

 

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EXCERPT

 

Sully

The smell of stale beer, cigarette smoke, and something I thought might be
grilled onions permeated the main room of Throttle. The bar was frequented by
not only members of Kiss of Death MC, but most MCs in the area. People behaved
for the most part, but occasionally, the place could be counted on for a good
knockdown, drag out. It was one of my favorite bars.

I stood alone at the far end of the bar where I could flag the bartender when
I was empty. Right now, I nursed a double shot of Jack that burned less and
less with each sip. Night had fallen an hour ago, but the place was just
starting to get rowdy. The jukebox in the corner played Lynyrd Skynyrd.
Someone had put Street Survivors on repeat which… I mean, great album.
But if this kept up, I might have to rethink staying much longer.

Men in leather vests with patches proclaiming their club affiliation and road
names hunched over pool tables in the back, cue balls cracking against each
other in sharp retorts. Some of the guys had women hanging onto them. Some
were trying to get rid of the women hanging on. I just wanted to get
pleasantly buzzed. Made the company seem less offensive and more amusing.

I took another sip, letting the amber liquid slide down my throat. The
bartender, a mountain of a man with forearms thick as my calves, wiped down
the counter in mechanical circles, his eyes constantly sweeping the room for
trouble. There was always trouble at Throttle. It was just a matter of when.

Then she walked in.

I didn’t recognize her, which meant she wasn’t a regular. Nobody
who valued their skin wandered into Throttle without knowing what they were
walking into. She wore a leather jacket that had seen better days. Her dark
hair was pulled back in a messy braid, revealing sharp cheekbones and a small
scar that cut through her right eyebrow. It wasn’t the kind of scar you
got from childhood accidents. It was the kind you earned.

She moved with a predator’s grace, weaving between tables without
touching a single patron. Her boots made no sound on the scarred wood floor. I
watched her scan the room as she made her way to the bar. When those eyes
briefly met mine, I felt a chill that had nothing to do with the watered-down
Jack in my glass.

After ordering her poison, she headed straight for the dartboard hanging on
the back wall, where three bikers were tossing darts with the casual disregard
of men who owned the space around them. They noticed her approach, their
conversation dying as she stopped at the edge of their circle. The tallest
one, a bear of a man with a gray-streaked beard reaching his chest, looked her
up and down with a smirk.

“Lost, little girl?” he asked, twirling a dart between thick
fingers.

The woman smiled. Not a nervous smile, not an appeasing one. It was the serene
smile of a shark who had spotted blood in the water and knew there were no
lifeboats.

“Just looking for a game,” she replied, her voice carrying easily
despite the blaring rock music. “Unless you boys are afraid to play with
girls.”

The three men exchanged glances, amused by her audacity. The bearded one
chuckled lightly. “You need to move on, sweetheart. The kinda
playin’ we do ain’t somethin’ a sweet little thing like you
could handle.”

“Look,” she said, leaning in closer to the big, bearded guy.
“I’m just gonna give it to you straight. I’m broke.”
She shrugged. “Flat busted. I want alcohol and a motel room, and since I
don’t believe in earning my keep on my back or my knees, it’s
gonna have to be darts. I’m not very good at anything else.”

“Tell you what,” Big Beard said, crossing big, beefy arms over his
chest. “I’ll give you twenty bucks if you can get a dart in the
inner single ring.”

“Which one is that?” She didn’t bat an eyelash as she asked
her question. I held my breath, watching in rapt fascination as the girl led
the three men by the balls straight into a trap I was sure they didn’t
see coming. The bartender snorted as he polished a glass before turning his
back to the corner.

“See the two thick circles that separate the outer part of the board and
the inner part?”

“Uh-huh.” She stuck a finger in her mouth to nibble on the nail
nervously.

“Well, if you can stand over there” — he pointed to where there
was a bright yellow line on the floor — “and throw a dart that sticks
in the big circle closest to the center, I’ll give you twenty
bucks.”

The girl grinned. “Okay. How many shots do I get?”

The guys looked at each other before one of the others spoke.
“We’ll give you three shots this time. But if you win, the next
time you only get two.”

“Okay. That sounds fair.” She reached out her hand for the darts.

“Don’t you want to know what you have to give us if you
lose?” The big guy spoke again. The lascivious grin on his face left no
doubt what he’d demand as her payment.

“Why?” She tilted her head, looking for all the world like she
truly didn’t understand his question.

“Well, we figured you’d want to know our prize if you lose. You
don’t want to make a bed and not know what you’re giving up. What
if I demand your house?”

She shrugged. “That’d be your bad since I don’t have a
house.” She waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “Besides,
I’m not going to lose.”

They all three chuckled again, and Big Beard handed her a dart. “Behind
the line, darlin’,” he drawled. Big Beard tossed his dart first
and it landed at two o’clock in the middle of the first single ring on
the board. His buddies grunted in approval. “Your turn,
darlin’.”

The girl complied, then shook out her arm in a big show. She took a couple
practice movements, then tossed her dart. It hit inside the circle she was
supposed to hit and her dart was closer to the center than Big Beard’s.

 

 

About the Author

Marteeka Karland is an international bestselling author who leads a double
life as an erotic romance author by evening and a semi-domesticated housewife
by day. Known for her down and dirty MC romances, Marteeka takes pleasure in
spinning tales of tenacious, protective heroes and spirited, vulnerable
heroines. She staunchly advocates that every character deserves a blissful
ending, even, sometimes, the villains in her narratives. Her writings are
speckled with intense, raw elements resulting in page-turning delight entwined
with seductive escapades leading up to gratifying conclusions that elicit a
sigh from her readers.

Away from the pen, Marteeka finds joy in baking and supporting her husband
with their gardening activities. The late summer season is set aside for
preserving the delightful harvest that springs from their combined efforts
(which is mostly his efforts, but you can count it). To stay updated with
Marteeka’s latest adventures and forthcoming books, make sure to visit her
website. Don’t forget to register for her newsletter which will pepper you
with a potpourri of Teeka’s beloved recipes, book suggestions, autograph
events, and a plethora of interesting tidbits.

Author on Instagram & TikTok: @marteekakarland

Author on Facebook

Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok: @changelingpress

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Invisible Monsters Teaser

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Sci-fi Romance, BDSM, Second Chances

Date Published: November 14, 2025

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Can two Rangers find love when they’re haunted by invisible
monsters — inside and out?

Earth civilians are obsessed with selfies and social media, but my life
revolves around alien starships, superhuman strength, and A.I. implants. Too
bad none of it helped when I was captured and tortured. Now I crave revenge,
but as a genetically engineered Ranger, I must obey Mothership’s rules:
protect humanity. Never kill.

When another alien ship sends monsters to invade Earth, Mothership’s
Rangers must stop them. My new Ranger teammate is everything I shouldn’t
crave: handsome, skilled, and haunted by his own dark past. He helped rescue
me from torture, but it cost him his entire team. Now I’m the mess
he’s got to clean up.


Battling invisible monsters may be the death of us, but our mutual attraction
is undeniable. Can we stop an alien invasion despite our dangerous chemistry?

Invisible Monsters tablet

EXCERPT

 

Present Day

Diana

I stared at the screen, watching the Earth grow larger as our transport raced
toward it. Even after two months as one of Mothership’s Rangers, the
sight reminded me how strange my new life had become. Down there, people were
obsessed with selfies, celebrities, and social media. I’d plunged into a
world of giant alien starships, AI brain implants, and super-strength.

And worse.

An image flashed through my head — the sadistic grin on Roger Bannon’s
face as he leaned in, the surgical drill whining as it spun. I’d fought
not to scream as the drill bit in.

Roger loved it when I screamed.

I shoved away the memory, hard. If I wasn’t careful, that thin face with
those pale, rabid eyes would start running through my head on an OCD loop.
“I should have killed you when I had the chance,” I muttered.

Next to me, Ian Cartwright turned to give me a narrow stare. “What did
you say?”


Damnit, Diana, you’re not supposed to creep out your battle buddy.

“Bad memories.”

His expression softened, ice-blue eyes going a little less chilly. “I
can imagine.”


No, you really can’t.
I didn’t say it aloud. Cartwright already
thought I was a human hand grenade just waiting for somebody to pull my pin.
The team didn’t need that kind of distrust, especially in the middle of
an op.

I looked away to see Indra Fox watching me in concern. Crap, I’d even
freaked her out. She and our team leader, Rowan Kerr, sat on one of the other
bench seats beside the huge oval screens that lined the transport’s
curving fuselage.

Indy had been my best friend all my life, my sister in every way but blood.
She could read me as if she were telepathic. “Having a flashback?”
She tilted her head, long, dark hair swinging around her face, green eyes
startling against the silken fall of black. Like me, Indy had a tough,
athletic build from the combat and strength training we’d had from the
time we could walk. Our dads hadn’t been fooling around.

“I’ve got it handled.”

“Cyberpunk could block those if you’d let him.”

She was right — my AI brain implant could suppress the firing synapses that
triggered those memories. “I’m not going to give Roger the
satisfaction.”

Rowan Kerr snorted. “Satisfaction’s the last thing Bannon’s
feeling.” Our team leader was even bigger than Cartwright, though his
features were less classically handsome, with the rich golden coloring of his
Latino heritage. His angular features and intense gaze made him look like
he’d escaped a temple in ancient Greece. “If he even thinks about
what he did to you, he’ll get a one-way trip to PTSD hell. Pissing
Mothership off is never a good idea.”

“She still turned him loose. He could try it again.” That’s
why I dreamed of killing him, First Reg or no First Reg. If Bannon was dead,
he’d never come back.

Cartwright gave me a frustrated glower. “Newman, he can’t. His
conditioning won’t let him. If you violate the First Reg again,
you’re going to find out why — the hard way. You’ve used up the
only second chance you get.”

That just pissed me off. “If Mothership had rescued Indra and me when
Satan’s Horsemen murdered our –”

“How about not starting a fight in the middle of a mission?” Rowan
interrupted. “We’ve got a child and his family to rescue.
Preferably before the damn Boars grab them.”

I shut my mouth so fast, my teeth clicked. I’d seen the file photo in
Aiden Scott’s dossier. Just eight years old, the kid had huge brown eyes
in a pale, round little face under a flyaway mop of dark hair, his grin wide
and white and missing a couple of baby teeth.

When Aiden was diagnosed with a high-risk medulloblastoma at age four, doctors
treated the brain tumor with surgery, chemo, and radiation. He’d still
relapsed three years later. The boy would probably be dead now, except
Mothership spotted his family’s medical GoFundMe. She’d sent a
Ranger team to the Scott family with an offer to heal Aiden. His parents
hadn’t looked a gift miracle in the mouth — just packed him up and
flown off with the Rangers.

Giant alien spaceships are a lot less scary than losing a child.


Mothership
’s doctors had infused Aiden’s body with nanotech —
molecule-sized bots that hunted down every cancer cell in his body and killed
them all. Then the tech corrected the genetic condition that caused the cancer
while healing the damage it had inflicted. He’d been healthy and happy
within three months.

But that nanotech also made him a tempting target for the Boarosans
who’d invaded the solar system a decade back. The humans whose bodies
the Boars used as unwilling hosts were as vulnerable to disease as everyone
else, and the aliens wanted to keep their meat suits healthy. That was why
they’d ordered the Horsemen to kidnap me, why Bannon and his
“researchers” had cut me, scarred me, peeled me so they could
watch my tech put me back together. They’d hoped to reverse engineer my
nanotech.

They could easily do the same to Aiden. Mothership’s simulations
predicted that since I’d escaped, the Boar might well decide to go after
the Cured she’d treated.

The idea of that sweet little boy at the mercy of the same aliens who’d
given me to Roger…


Rescuing Aiden’s a hell of a lot more important than beefing with my own
team. Better mend some fences.

I gave Ian a tight nod. “Sorry for going off on you, Cartwright.
Rowan’s right — an op isn’t the time to get pissy.”

He studied me thoughtfully. Rangers were universally attractive —
Mothership’s genetic engineering at work — but Ian was even more
gorgeous than the typical agent. His face was intensely masculine, all high
cheekbones and square jaw, his nose aquiline, his mouth wide, with a lower lip
I longed to nibble. He wore his sable hair in a severe style that made him
look even harder, sexier, but it was his eyes that pulled me in. An icy blue,
they were ringed and rayed in a rich cobalt, watchful and cool. People tend to
dismiss a man that pretty, but Cartwright was also six-five and built like an
NFL defensive lineman. As one of Mothership’s Rangers, he was even more
dangerous than he looked.

“I started it.” His voice rumbled in a way that made me yearn to
exchange more than snark with him. “Shouldn’t have poked the
wound. I’m sorry.”

“Let’s just… start over, okay? The point is getting Aiden
and his family to safety.”

His nod was tight and controlled, like everything else about the man.
“Works for me.”

 

 

About the Author

New York Times best-selling author Angela Knight has written and published
more than sixty novels, novellas, and ebooks, including the Mageverse and
Merlin’s Legacy series. With a career spanning more than two decades,
Romantic Times Bookclub Magazine has awarded her their Career Achievement
award in Paranormal Romance, as well as two Reviewers’ Choice awards for
Best Erotic Romance and Best Werewolf Romance.

Angela is currently a writer, editor, and cover artist for Changeling Press
LLC. She also teaches online writing courses. Besides her fiction work,
Angela’s writing career includes a decade as an award-winning South
Carolina newspaper reporter. She lives in South Carolina with her husband,
Michael, a thirty-year police veteran and detective with a local police
department.

Author on Facebook

Author on Twitter

Publisher on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and TikTok: @changelingpress

Save 15% off any order at ChangelingPress.com with code RABT15

 

 

 

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Carrie Ingalls – The Forgotten Sister Teaser

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Non-fiction Chapter Book Juvenile Fiction

Date Published: 10-30-2025

Publisher: Solander Press

 

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While her sister Laura chronicles their life on the frontier, Carrie
Ingalls forges her own path. This is the story of the “forgotten”
sister, a frail child who grows into a resilient woman of the American West.
From the hardships of pioneer life, Carrie emerges as an independent
journalist, newspaper editor, and landowner, quietly shaping the futures of
fellow homesteaders and proving that strength comes in many forms.
Excerpt

 Chapter Six A Single Bag of Wheat

On October 15, 1880, a fierce blizzard struck the Dakota Territory. It soon became clear that the Ingalls family could not survive the coming winter in a one-room shanty.

First, Charles took his haystacks to town in the wagon. Then he returned to the shanty, and he and Caroline packed the wagon with their few pieces of furniture, bedding, and clothes. They returned to town and moved back into the rooms above the small store Charles had built. The good news was that Laura and Carrie could go to school.

A lot had changed over the summer while they lived in the shanty. The school had been completed and opened on November 1, 1880. Laura and Carrie were two of the first fifteen students to attend De Smet School. When another blizzard hit during a school day, Laura and Carrie struggled to find their way back to where they lived.

Settlers depended on the train for their supplies. Not only did they get food delivered daily by train, but they also received mail and, most importantly, coal for fuel. Charles and the other men from town often shoveled snow from the tracks so the train could reach the station.

As the blizzards continued into January 1881, the railroad made a decision that significantly affected Carrie and her family. They would not deliver more supplies until spring and would cease operations for the winter.

The school was shut down because there wasn’t enough coal to keep the children warm, and soon food became scarce in the town. Food prices rose sharply, with flour costing $50 a pound, and the last few pounds of sugar selling for $1 a pound. Without coal, the Ingalls burned hay twisted into bundles. As their kerosene ran low, they burned the oil lamps less and less at night. But a good deed by Charles may have saved the family.

 

About the Author

Clarissa Willis

 Award-winning author Clarissa Willis writes children’s books. She has authored
four picture books and one chapter book. Bloomers on Pike’s Peak, the
story of Julia Archibald Holmes, received a Will Rogers Medallion Award and
was a finalist for the Women Writing the West 2025 WILLA Literary Award in
Children’s Picture Books. Her book Fast as the Wind: The Story of Johnny Fry
Pony Express Rider won a Will Rogers Medallion in 2023. The Three Little Pigs
and the Not So Big Bad Wolf, released in early 2025. It tells a familiar story
with a new twist. She believes childhood is a journey and strives to make it
joyful through her books and public speaking.

Clarissa loves traveling and has a special connection to the American West.
She finds inspiration in the red rocks of Sedona, Arizona, and the Rocky
Mountains of Colorado. In fact, her next book, Not from Around Here, is set in
Sedona and chronicles an unusual friendship between a young cowboy and his
friend from far away.

 

Contact Links

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Purchase Link

 

Amazon

 

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Echoes of Fortune – Shadows Over Cozumel Teaser

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Mystery, Thriller

 

Date Published: November 11, 2025

 

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What would you risk to uncover a secret buried for over 150 years?


From bestselling and multi–award-winning author David R. Leng comes the
next pulse-pounding installment in the Echoes of Fortune series.


His debut, Echoes of Fortune: The Search for Braddock’s Lost Gold
,
captivated readers and earned a 4.5-star rating on Goodreads. Now the
adventure continues with a brand-new novella that plunges deeper into
history’s deadliest secrets.

When historian Jack Sullivan, Smithsonian curator Emma Wilson, and fellow
former Navy SEAL Steve Johnson set out for a Thanksgiving dive off Cozumel,
they expect nothing more than warm waters and forgotten wrecks. Instead, they
uncover a Confederate ghost ship that vanished in 1865—along with a
sealed brass tube containing secrets powerful enough to change history.

But they’re not alone. Shadowy mercenaries and a black-hulled yacht
stalk their every move, determined to silence them before the truth surfaces.
From dazzling reefs to the back alleys of Veracruz, Jack and his team are
forced into a deadly game where history isn’t past—it’s a
weapon.


Some secrets don’t want to be found. And some will kill to stay buried.

Perfect for fans of Steve Berry, Clive Cussler, Dan Brown, and James Rollins,
Shadows Over Cozumel delivers nonstop action, historical intrigue, and a
mystery that spans centuries.

 

Excerpt

Chapter 1

 

 

Cozumel Mexico

Thursday, November 22, 2018

8:56 AM

 

The black mega yacht waited beyond Cozumel’s harbor mouth, a dark
predator lurking in sunlit waters. Cruise ships gleamed at the pier, fishing
boats slipped out toward the open sea, but this vessel did not belong. Sleek,
silent, and perfectly placed in deeper water, it radiated intent.

At the bow rail, a man in a white Panama hat with a dark band stood with
military stillness, his weathered hands gripping the binoculars trained on the
harbor. A gold watch caught the light as he lifted his wrist to check the
time.

A striking young woman approached in a sheer white cover-up over her swimsuit,
her smile as rehearsed as the silver tray she carried. She might have been a
model from one of the glossy magazines scattered in the salon, another prop in
the theater of wealth the man commanded.

Ice clinking, he took the drink without a glance, eyes locked on the port, as
if even beauty and luxury were beneath his notice.

“Sir,” a subordinate murmured, appearing at his shoulder,
“the Americans arrived last evening. Right on schedule.”

The binoculars never wavered.

“Our marine park contact confirmed they requested to dive La
Sombra
.” The man paused, then continued in his Caribbean accent,
“We’ve been tracking them since they arrived. Sullivan—the
professor, the tall one. His Smithsonian curator fiancée. And his
fellow former SEAL friend. Our hacker says he’s been digging into the
Del Rio.

Through the lenses, he watched three figures board the Maria Elena—a
tall, blond man helping the athletic woman with her gear, the muscular Black
man arranging air tanks with quiet efficiency.

“Possibly lethal. High profile,” he noted. “We should keep
this out of the media if we can. Let them dive.” He lowered the
binoculars, his eyes tracking the dive boat pulling from the pier. “But
if they become a problem…history will bury them too.”

 

About the Author

David R. Leng

 David R. Leng, known for his expertise in risk management and insurance, now
ventures into the world of fiction with his latest historical thriller, Echoes
of Fortune. With a distinguished career spanning over 30 years, David is the
author of International #1 Best Sellers including “Insured to Fail” and “The
10 Laws of Insurance Attraction,” and has saved clients over $42 million in
premiums and overcharges. As Executive Vice President and Partner of the
Duncan Financial Group, David is celebrated for his innovative Risk Profile
Improvement Process and has earned numerous accolades, including Advisor of
the Year by the Institute of WorkComp Professionals. An avid contributor to
industry publications, David’s passion extends beyond his professional
achievements to include boating, skiing, woodworking, and supporting his local
high school’s musical productions. His foray into historical thrillers
reflects his deep storytelling skills and a lifelong commitment to engaging
and captivating audiences.

 

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