Archive for the ‘Xpresso Tours’ Category

Bound Beauty
Jennifer Silverwood
(A Wylder Tale, #3)
Publication date: July 14th 2026
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Forgotten gods haunt her steps, and the cursed prince she left behind isn’t done fighting for her soul.

Vynasha is bound to the prince of Bitterhelm. Even if she were to die, her spirit will remain trapped with him in the castle forever. But she won’t give in to Grendel without a fight. With the aid of an oracle, a witchling, and the wolf that claims her heart, Vynasha plans to claim her power as the curse breaker.

Ceddrych guards their nephew secretly while fighting to keep the feral beasts roaming their borders at bay. But the monsters are closing in, and the madness he has struggled with drives him to one desperate, unforgivable act.

A war is about to begin between the forgotten people of Wylderland and the cruel might of Bitterhelm. Beings of prophecy and legend unite in the epic third chapter of the Wylder Tales Series, a romantic gothic re-telling of Beauty and the Beast.

WYLDER TALES is a series of romantic dark fairy tales, set in the past of the wider Borderlands Saga, and includes:
•slow burn romantasy
•forced proximity
•enemies to lovers
•found family
•magical bonds
•wicked witches
•burly beasts
•morally gray characters

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

IN A FORBIDEN DREAM IN WYLDERLAND…

The journey seemed to take far longer than she remembered, and part of her feared the passage of time here compared to the world her body remained behind. Ceddrych had told her countless tales of the dangers of magick, of what happened when one dwelled too long in enchanted dreams.

Here the palace looked less like a ruin wrought from rampage. Candles gave off an unnatural silver glow and the hovering lights that had been trailing Vynasha seemed to thicken and gather as she lifted a hand to push open the doors to the throne room. They cracked open before her hand could touch the intricately carved wood.

Snow filtered in through the broken ceiling and rose vines curled over every surface, crawling up the obsidian columns and steps to the throne. Surrounding the steps, the shadow-spirits of beasts of every size and shape lounged and paced. Their forms flickered about the edges, and their eyes glowed brightly, turning to fix upon Vynasha as she slowly entered the hall.

Upon the throne, the thorned vines had dug into a hunched over man. His blood gleamed luminous violet, the same shade as hers was now.

With every step she took, the full wreck of his downfall became increasingly apparent. The shadow beasts at her back pressed closer, urging her forward. Vynasha clenched her fists and refused to climb the steps to face him.

“Grendel.” Her voice echoed like a plucked lute string through the cavernous hall.

Grendel shuddered and then raised his head and looked at her with dead violet eyes. “Vynasha.” The crack in his voice echoed clearly to her ears. His eyes widened when she remained, and his vine-wrapped hands clawed at the arms of his throne. “You have come at last.”

Her feet began to move of their own accord. She barely caught herself in time. She could not, would not go to him, and certainly never pity him. “What happened here? Why are my roses taking over like this?”

“Can you not guess, Vynasha” Grendel leaned forward, ignoring the press of the rose crowning his dark hair. “Vynasha, you have no idea how your absence has undone me. It has been pure torture to sense you but never able to touch you.”

“Good.” Vynasha took a single involuntary step up the stairs leading to his throne. His violet eyes flared wide with apprehension as she growled, “You and your monsters have made our lives a living hell, Grendel. It’s only fair I repay your bloody kindness.”

Grendel’s lips parted and his gaze took in the full measure of her with all the subtlety of a starving man. “Yet you are here,” he said, a new clarity brightening his violet gaze. His hands flexed against the arms of his throne. “You are truly here, and that means the spell has been broken.”

Vynasha flinched at his sudden smile and found herself unable to take a step back. Her feet drove her forward once more, and this time she had no power over herself to stop. “What are you doing to me?”

Grendel’s hand twitched and then she was flung forward. He groaned as he caught her, the thorns digging deeper into his flesh. She cried out as the same thorns cut her palms as she braced herself against his chest. “I have you, at last, I have you,” he said, eyes bright with unshed tears.

He was mad. No, she was mad. For the instant her hands found his flesh, a roaring wave of need assaulted her. She could rage at him and claim this was his need she felt, not her own. But this compulsion was familiar, forbidden and something she had fought desperately to forget in the past three moons.

“Grendel, let me go” she pleaded as she leaned into him, the pain of his thorns forgotten as he pulled her into his lap and began to press his lips over every part of her he could reach.

“How could I give you up my beauty, my love, my queen?”

She couldn’t breathe. The scent of roses, of life and death, of him were overwhelming. A part of her was starving, had been starving for months, she realized wish sickening clarity. “I hate you,” she sobbed as she tilted her chin and gave him further access to her neck. “If you pull me back here again, I will find a way to kill you, I swear it.”

“You cannot kill me without killing yourself, love,” he said with a laugh.

“Then we both die.” She shook her head but could not help tracing her nose along his neck, to draw in more of his heady scent.

“Vynasha,” he cried as her lips pressed to his pulse. “Please, Vynasha!”

But he was no longer tangible beneath her hands, the thorns no longer piercing them both. The painful aching need to mold herself to him faded just as she did, her hands disappearing before her eyes.

“Vynasha!” He cried with an agony she felt as her spirit was ripped free from Grendel’s nightmare. And the world around her dimmed, consumed by a cloud of inky ashes.

Author Bio:

Jennifer Silverwood lives in the middle of an enchanted forest surrounded by cursed books, nosy spirits, and mischievous goblins she calls her children. After beginning several nonsensical degrees, she found her calling helping other authors bring their books to life. Jennifer is the author of two fairy tale fantasy series: the Borderlands Saga and Wylder Tales. Because she wasn’t satisfied writing in one genre, she also invites you to explore uncharted space with the Heaven’s Edge Novellas—and dare to fall in love again with the standalone romance titles Stay and She Walks in Moonlight.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Instagram / TikTok


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Undying
Christy Healy
Publication date: June 9th 2026
Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Romance

Rory Ó Conchúir has always known that she was destined for war. Her deadly gifts, the unwanted inheritance of her ancestor, the Mórrígan, can only be wielded as a weapon of destruction and doom. For years, she would not allow herself to be used as such, instead choosing to live far across the sea, refusing to regret what she has left behind in order to do so…until the fateful day that she learns of the price she has paid for her peace.

Niall Ó Flannagáin, the young king of Connacht, was never meant for war — that has always been his half-sister, Rory’s, role. But now he finds himself threatened with a foreign invasion and the ruination of the realm, without her aid. In desperation, he turns to a powerful enemy as an ally, his only hope to unite the provinces against the foreign armies gathering even now to destroy the land he has sworn to protect.

Locke MacMurchada, the son of the most hated traitor in all of Éire, owes a debt that he knows he can never pay. But when the opportunity to propose a political marriage with the murderous Rory Ó Conchúir arises, he seizes the chance to protect what is left of both his people, as well as the legacy which his father ripped to shreds…so long as she doesn’t kill him first.

When the fateful day of doom at last arrives, the fates of all three royals – the cursed princess, the young king, and the traitor prince – become inextricably woven together, forcing them to face new threats and old enemies, hoping to forge a stronger Éire from the ashes of the old.


Content Warnings:
Frequent depictions of war & battle scenes
Graphic descriptions of torture & death
Loss of a family member
Discussions of grief & self-hatred
On-page death of major character

Goodreads / Amazon


Author Bio:

Christy Healy has been a book nerd ever since she was a little girl hiding under the covers with a flashlight and a dog-eared copy of Anne of Green Gables. She started writing soon after, and the obsession only grew. Now Christy weaves stories of her own into the myths and tales of the Celtic, Indo-European, and Greco-Roman worlds that she has loved for so long. When not lost in her fantasy worlds, she lives in North Carolina with her children, her dog, and her husband.

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Fracture
Basar Gorur
(Shadow Sovereign Series, #1)
Publication date: April 17th 2026
Genres: Adult, Techno Thriller

A murdered diplomat. A dying man’s cryptic message. A conspiracy that could shatter NATO.

When U.S. geopolitical strategist Roger ‘Simms ’Osbourne receives word that his colleague and friend Aslı Green has been killed, he inherits more than grief. He inherits her secret: evidence of a sophisticated Russian operation that sank a Ukrainian tanker and made it look like an accident.

Sent to London to sell a critical NATO surveillance system, Simms quickly discovers his official mission is compromised. A powerful British political faction, backed by shadowy money and royal connections, is determined to see him fail. The deeper he digs into Aslı’s murder, the more he realizes the two threats are connected.

Forced to abandon the rulebook, Simms assembles an unlikely alliance: his embattled team, a mysterious operative named Katya who knows too much, and assets on both sides of the law. Together, they uncover a sprawling network funneling Russian profits through international shell companies to fuel a political war against the West.

But Russian Admiral Sidorov isn’t waiting for the dust to settle. His devastating military demonstration exposes NATO’s vulnerabilities and humiliates the alliance on the world stage. And lurking beneath it all is an even darker secret: Chinese technology at the heart of Russia’s most advanced weapons.

Now Simms must wage war on three fronts: political, financial, and military. Because if he fails, his friend died for nothing. And the next strike won’t be disguised as an accident.

For fans of Tom Clancy, Mark Greaney, and Brad Thor.

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

Ankara. Surveillance van outside Mikhail’s apartment. Evening.

Jack adjusted the lens for the hundredth time. Jones was sorting sunflower seeds by some private system known only to God and possibly his therapist.

“Stilettos,” Jones said.

“We’re not doing this.”

“We’re absolutely doing this. We’ve been here four hours. I’ve counted the bricks on that building. There are 2,847. I’ve earned a conversation.”

“You counted wrong. There are 2,846.”

“You counted them too?”

“Shut up.” Jack refused to look at him. “What about stilettos?”

“Women wear them voluntarily. On purpose. They pay extra for the privilege of balancing on pencil erasers.”

“Groundbreaking analysis. Call the sociology department.”

“I’m serious. Men’s fashion evolution went: uncomfortable, less uncomfortable, sweatpants. Enlightenment achieved. Women’s fashion went: uncomfortable, more uncomfortable, here’s a torture device from the Spanish Inquisition, but we made it beige.”

Jack checked the window. Nothing.

“Maybe they like being tall.”

“Platform sneakers exist. Wedges exist. Sensible block heels exist. Those chunky things that look like orthopedic equipment for fashionable astronauts.” Jones cracked a seed with surgical precision. “The stiletto isn’t about height. It’s about violence.”

“Violence.”

“Think about it. Historically, women couldn’t carry weapons. Swords, daggers, frowned upon. Very unlady-like. But shoes?” Jones gestured broadly, scattering shells. “Nobody regulates footwear. So some genius says, what if we put a three-inch steel spike on a pump and call it couture?”

“That’s actually not terrible.”

“I’m occasionally not terrible. Mark the calendar.”

The radio crackled. Static. The universe’s way of saying nothing was happening, and nothing would happen.

“You know they were daggers first,” Jones said. “Fifteenth century. Little needle-point shivs for punching through armor gaps.”

Jack checked the monitor. Still dark. “We are not talking about fashion history.”

“It’s tactical history. ‘Stiletto ’comes from stilus. The little metal spike Romans used for writing.” Jones pointed a shell at Jack. “It literally means ‘angry pen. ’The shoe is just a knife you can walk in.”

“You made that up.”

“Look it up. CIA even tried to weaponize them in the fifties. Program called Stiletto Rose. Pop-out blades in the heel.”

“Bullshit.”

“Swear to God. Total failure. Mechanics didn’t work. But someone tried.” Jones grinned. “Boredom is the mother of weapons development.”

Jack massaged his temples.

“Your ex-wife had stilettos, didn’t she?”

“Louboutins. Red soles. Cost more than my first car.” Jones found a seed worthy of consumption. “She never wore them. Kept them in the box. I asked why. She said they weren’t for wearing, they were for knowing she could wear them.”

“That explains the divorce.”

“Many things explain the divorce. Most of them are my fault. Some of them footwear-adjacent.”

The window remained dark. Jack was developing a personal vendetta against it.

The radio crackled.

“All teams, target vehicle approaching.”

Jack grabbed the camera. Jones swept the sunflower seeds aside.

“Finally,” Jones said. “I had a whole bit about platform shoes being siege equipment.”

“Save it.”

“Battering rams for the fashion-forward.”

“I will leave you here.”

Author Bio:

Başar Görür;

Writes geopolitical techno-thrillers grounded in institutions, leverage, and the real mechanics behind modern power. He has a BA degree in International Relations.

During his military service, he served on the personal staff of the Commander of the War Academies, working directly for a four-star air force general as an aide and translator. That experience informs how he writes briefings, decision cycles, and pressure under uncertainty.

He later held senior executive roles at PwC and at 3M Corporation headquarters, operating in multinational environments where cross-border incentives and capital flows shape outcomes. He now leads a private asset-management business.

Outside of work, he is a licensed captain and avid scuba diver who spends several months each year at sea and has traveled extensively. These experiences shape the Shadow Sovereign series.

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