Marked Raven by @JBDaneWriter #uf #romanticmystery #romance #ku #giveaway
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  • N. N. Light
    • Feb 8, 2023
    • 6 min read

Marked Raven by @JBDaneWriter #uf #romanticmystery #romance #ku #giveaway



Title: MARKED RAVEN


Author: J.B. Dane


Genre: urban fantasy PI mystery comedy


Book Blurb:


Valentine’s Day could be the most dangerous time of the year if an angry Cupid is the hit man hunting you down.


Most guys wouldn’t mind that it’s raining females, some expected, some surprises, one he could do without. And then there is his new secretary Naomie, who he’s falling in love with. Keeping her alive—and himself—is going to be tricky.


Outrunning an alchemist, a vampire, and a witch is going to take more than cutting wit. Luckily, this paranormal Sam Spade has some resources besides his dry sense of humor. His dachshund Hellhound is with him, and his magic is coming back. Which should be helpful considering someone has put a hit out on him.


There’s a lot on Bram’s plate this February. The question is, will he live through it this time?


Excerpt:


When I got to Nomes’ apartment it was a bit later than I’d expected, but the real surprise was that Burt’s cab and Dawes’ truck were both parked in the lot. Beelz was at my heels as I went into the building entrance, but he beat me to Naomie’s place. Her door was wide open. I wondered whether there had been trouble.


Beelz barked a greeting.


Considering he’d hung out with Dawes all day and Burt was his regular ride to the groomer’s, the only person in the room he had just a glancing acquaintance with was Alexis Muldoon.


In the tiny apartment there was barely room to walk. Naomie hopped up from where she’d been curled into the beanbag chair. Burt and Lex had the sofa staked out, and Dawes had confiscated one of the chairs from the kitchen and sat straddling it, arms crossed and resting on the back. He got up and closed the door behind me.


“So what are all you people doing here?”


“I live here,” Nomes said, her voice hovering on a giggle, if I’m not mistaken.


“Ms. Muldoon asked me to bring her by. I’m merely waiting in a warm place until my fare is ready to head out,” Burt declared.


“Uh huh.”


“I was not briefed on Mr. Zelinski’s position in the operation,” Dawes said.


I nearly asked who the heck Mr. Zelinski was, then realized it was probably Burt. I was so bad about getting surnames from the people on my payroll.


Dawes was still talking. “…so, as Ms. Enright’s security detail for the day, I questioned his purposes in trailing us into the parking lot.”


“He jerked Burt from the cab and patted him down.” Lex sounded affronted at the action.


I glanced at Naomie. Her eyes were dancing some uninhibited tropical fandango of delight at the memory. If I asked her, the odds of her saying, “It was awesome,” came in at even money.


“I didn’t mind,” Burt said. “He was doing his job.”


Dawes took the bag of groceries around the corner and deposited them onto the table. A table that, when I followed him with my other two bags, I saw was missing the Raven Central computer set-ups.


Dave noticed the start I gave. “Took ’em down and stored ’em in her trunk while we were waiting for you.”


I sighed, though whether it was over the way things kept getting out of my control or relief that I wouldn’t have to tote them down the stairs myself, I couldn’t say. “And you’re still here why?”


Nomes overheard me. It was, after all, a really small apartment. “I invited everyone to join us for dinner,” she called from the other side of the partition. Like less than ten feet away. “Is that okay, boss?”


I threw in the towel. “Whatever,” I said.


“Great,” she perked. “I already called ahead for reservations. The Dearborn location, right?”


If it hadn’t been before, it was now.


I suggested the rest of them head for the restaurant while I fed Beelz and Nomes put the replacement comestibles away. Within two minutes, the apartment had grown back to normal size. Beelz had his nose in a bowl of barbecue chicken bits from the deli section.


I waited until Nomes had stashed the Mountain Dew in the fridge to make my move. When she shut the door, I was right behind her. She turned to face me in surprise. Hands flat against the freezer door on either side of her head, I leaned into her.


“Nomes,” I said softly. “This was supposed to be a date. Just you and me.” The fact that I’d only decided to term it so since the others had left surprised even me.


“But, bo—”


Before she could call me boss again, I corrected her. “Bram,” I murmured and kissed her.


***


Yeah, I know what you’re thinking. What the shit, Farrell! Same phrase ran through my mind and I shut it the hell up.


She was kissing me back and, well, the world could just back off as far as I was concerned. Then sanity returned. Not to me, but to Nomes.


“Boss.” The word feathered across my lips.


“Nomes,” I answered, doing a bit more sampling.


“This isn’t us.”


“Feels a lot like us,” I countered.


“You’re just riding the wave,” she counter countered.


“Wave?”


“Adrenaline.”


Yep, definitely. The adrenaline tank was registering at FULL.


“I’m not the girl you dressed up to distract those boys with last night.”


“Sugar, you aren’t dressed like that now,” I reminded her.


“But you’re still picturing me dressed that way.”


Didn’t have to. My imagination had made enough hops on this checkerboard since then that you could “king” me.


Her hands rested on my chest, but she wasn’t pushing me away. “We need to return to the way we treated each other before.”


“We can do that and then add to it.” Like an entire wing.


“Do you really think that’s wise?”


It sounded damn brilliant to me.


She frowned. “Did giving you a key make you think…”


“The key had nothing to do with this.”


And there went the teeth, worrying that corner of her lip again. “But maybe it does.”


“On a subatomic level?”


“On a professional level, boss.”


I sighed in resignation. “Bram. Will you ever be able call me by my name? You did in October.”


“Boss is safer,” she said. “Particularly now.”


I rested my brow against hers. “You are…”


She waited.


“…infuriatingly right,” I agreed reluctantly. “But there’s one thing I want you to think about in the coming days.”


“What?” she asked.


“This,” I said and kissed her again. For quite a long while.


Buy Links (including Goodreads and BookBub):






What’s your favorite part about being a romance author?


Oh, it’s gotta be that I get to fall in love with the various heroes in my stories. And if I haven’t reread one of my stories in awhile, I get to fall in love the guy of the moment all over again.


Here’s my tip to add romance to your love life:


Considering I haven’t kept, or kept for long, any of the men who have strolled into my life, I’m probably not the best person to give advice on this. I’ve always loved the heroes I created better than the one with his head on the pillow next to me.


The trick is probably finding someone with a similar sense of humor, an appreciation for the same music, movies, books, and goals in life. Some would call this person their Twin Flame, others their Soulmate. I have a feeling that neither has stumbled across me, or I them.


Other than on the printed page. Maybe next life, hey?


Giveaway –


One lucky reader will win a $75 Amazon US or Canada gift card.



Open internationally. You must have a valid Amazon US or Amazon CA account to win.


Runs February 1 – 28, 2023.

Drawing will be held on March 1, 2023.


Author Biography:


J.B. Dane is the author of the urban fantasy PI mystery comedy series, The Raven Tales, which includes novels published by Burns and Lea Books, and a series of Indie published novellas that are prequels and also "between the books" adventures of her MC, Bram Farrell. Quite a few 5* reviews have followed for the novels, in particular, singing praises that should make her blush though she’s too busy proudly polishing her nails against her lapel to do so. She also writes shorter fantasy fiction, many tales of which have appeared in anthologies, particularly her Nick Claus, North Pole Security stories. She writes historical and contemporary romantic mystery and speculative twisted 19th century fiction under two different names, just to confuse people. Or so they seem to think.


Social Media Links:


Twitter: @JBDaneWriter

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