I’m excited to finally reveal all my new covers for my paranormal series in one place, designed by the super talented Cora of Cora Graphics during release week for Blood Moon, book 6 of the Destiny Paramortals.
The series as described by one of my readers as a paranormal mystery romance. It’s a world of dragons, storm witches (tempestaeries), shifters, vampires and fae—protecting mankind while searching for their fated mates. It’s a fun, emotional and quirky ride with twists and turns that will keep you guessing, and relationships that make you want to come back for more.
This week the series returns to Amazon exclusively and all six books are free to read on Kindle Unlimited.
Series: Destiny Paramortals
Welcome to Destiny, home to the Paramortals since…well, forever…where human neighbors and their new sheriff live alongside shifters, dragons, vampires and a family of djinn.
Just don’t tell the humans.
Title Storm Crazy #1
Genre: Paranormal Romance
Author Livia Quinn
To former Navy pilot-turned-sheriff Jack Lang, the town of Destiny appeared the perfect place to settle down - safe, sane and secure. But his investigation into a perplexing death shatters the alleged calm and threatens the tranquil home life he hoped to provide for his daughter. Especially, when he catches his mail lady in the act of stealing an antique vase after stepping over said body. Soon enough, Jack discovers Tempest Pomeroy is an outright trouble magnet who never fails to test the limits of his patience or the law.
Tempe’s regular job is delivering the mail, but the chaotic storm brewing in this idyllic small town amplifies her quickening powers. Her genie brother’s bottle is missing, her mother’s nowhere to be found, and the sexy sheriff and her ex-lover are facing off like gladiators in an arena. Except, well, Destiny doesn’t even have a civic center. For most of her life, she’s denied her heritage, but as the sheriff’s investigation veers off into the bizarre and intrudes into the existence of the Paramortals, danger heads toward them like an F5 tornado… Look out, Tempest’s about to go Storm Crazy.
A human sheriff, a storm witch, and the quirky, supernatural town of Destiny. What could go wrong?
I installed Pomeroy in the empty jail cell but didn’t lock it, although I was tempted to see if she’d try her hand-me-down skills on one of my locks. Pulling a case file from the desk drawer I remembered I’d promised to call Jordie.
The voice sounded like it belonged on a classic western, laced with tequila and cigarettes. I turned to face a tall man dressed in black. I could almost hear the cheesy “Good, Bad, and Ornery” music in the background. His name would have been Diablo.
I hadn’t even heard the door open. I thought of the covert operatives I’d met while serving in the Mideast. Intimidating, with his wet slicked black hair, dark eyes and stubbled jaw—this man would be hazardous to your health. His face held no expression, hands hanging loose at his sides, but I recognized a seasoned warrior when I saw one. Battle-ready.
“Dylan McGuinness, Special Investigator.” He pulled his black leather jacket aside to expose his badge.
What was he to Tempe? I wondered, as I pointed to the chair by the door. “Have a seat.”
He hesitated for a minute then, after taking stock of his surroundings, lowered himself onto the chair. Spring-loaded… dangerous… and proprietary were my impressions.
“What is your relationship with Tempest Pomeroy?” I asked and was blindsided by an irrational stab of… jealousy?
His lip quirked in tandem with an eyebrow. “What’s it to you? I’m here on official business, Sheriff…” he eyed the name plate on the desk, “…Lang.” I didn’t know the man but felt an instinctive dislike and distrust. What was his association with Tempe?
“State your business then—McGuinness, was it?”
I wasn’t sure how it happened, but we seemed to be in some kind of pissing contest. “Ms. Pomeroy didn’t have a phone call so how did you know she was here?”
“Why didn’t she get a phone call, if you’ve arrested her?” His thumb and index finger rubbed his whiskered chin and it wasn’t lost on me that he hadn’t answered my question.
I was feeling a perverse sense of non-cooperation. I didn’t just not want to answer. I wanted to have it out with Diablo…take it outside, so to speak. Where was that coming from? Talk about irrational. And I prided myself on my rationality. I regrouped.
“She’s not exactly arrested—yet. I’m still thinking on it.”
McGuinness’ narrowed eyes failed to conceal the workings of his quick lethal mind, and if I guessed correctly, a fondness for my prisoner. Her comment about misplaced trust came to mind, and I felt myself bristle. I made fists under the table trying to push down the ugly green emotions roiling up inside me. Once again, I had nothing to go on, but my instincts were screaming in his presence.
“So, what do I have to do to spring her?”
“Depends. If you can keep her away from my crime scene, I’m tempted to let you have her,” I said, with implied double meaning.
He nodded. “I might be able to handle that. She has a sit-to with her boss in less than an hour, and if she doesn’t end up suspended, she’ll be busy working all day. I have to get a couple statements from her this evening or tomorrow.”
I winced as I remembered her comment about being fired over picking up Jordie. “How well do you know her?”
McGuinness’ head tilted, and he hesitated before answering. One black eyebrow arched, he asked, “What’s it to you?”
Ah, there it was.
Buy Links https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00L02VHE0
Title Cry Me a River #2
Author Livia Quinn
Amid the strange goings on in his new hometown, Sheriff Jack Lang organizes a search for Tempest Pomeroy’s brother. Although Jack glimpsed her supposed supernatural talents in the form of lightning bolts aimed directly at him—special effects, had to be—nothing will keep him from doing his job to protect the town’s residents, his daughter, and even the trouble-making Tempe.
In the course of the investigation, lies and suspicions cloud their mutual attraction, but Storm Witch Tempe’s new ex-Navy pilot beau vows to learn everything about this quirky town.
Everything? Like a massive rumble of thunder, her family secrets—including her brother’s djinn nature—shake things up. Sure, Jack may stick around to finish his investigation, but once he knows all about the supernatural aspects of the town…? Well, wouldn’t it be just like a man to exit a relationship when he finds out a woman has a few little secrets?
Because in the town of Destiny, the burgeoning, unpredictable supernatural whips up a massive whirlwind of everything. “Come to Destiny, you won’t want to leave.”
I returned Dylan’s perusal, raking over the black duster where moisture steamed off that big hard body. The only obvious break in color was the shiny gold badge on the black id wallet visible between the leather lapels. He was dark and dangerous, and once again I felt the sensual pull. I rubbed my forehead, willing those thoughts away.
“What did you want to talk to me about, Persephone?”
“That’s it! Just once, could you call me by my friggin’ name?” I pushed off the stool and turned on him, fisting clumps of my hair.
He sat back, looked at me closely. “Talk to me. What’s going on,” he said.
“I need a favor, Inspector.”
He slid off his stool, motioning the bartender away with a look. “I think you’ve had enough.”
I turned on him, “Who died and made you the keeper of me?” And then I remembered what I’d learned, and a sob escaped my throat. I turned away. Get a grip. I signaled the bartender to bring me a tonic water, and felt Dylan’s hand squeeze my shoulder gently. I didn’t mean to let him, but it felt so…comforting.
“Bad day?” His voice was a calming purr. “Bad week,” he corrected. He could be so sweet. I hated that I remembered that about him, too. “I’m sorry I was late. I’ve been on a job in Baton Rouge.” He stroked a length of my hair behind my ear.
I could have easily allowed him to shoulder my troubles. Fix everything. No, that was tequila thinking. I didn’t need the betraying bastard to fix anything for me. “I’ve changed my mind. I don’t need you.”
I think he winced, but my vision was suspect.
“Come on, you need to call it a day.” He got up towering over me.
I slid off the stool, swaying just a smidgen. I was sure he didn’t notice, but then his hand settled on my hip steering me between the other stools and patrons into the fresh rain-washed night. I tripped on the uneven walkway of the porch and felt his hand on my elbow.
He said, “Tempe,” and turned me toward him. “Damn,” he muttered, looking off.
“Ah, so you do know my name,” I said.
“Look, I need to talk to you. Privately.”
I guess the dark night with only a few people coming and going from the parking lot wasn’t private enough. He led me around the side of the building. The comforting song of the rain frogs started up again as I propped myself against the outside wall. He placed both hands on either side of my head.