Mary Rundle has a new mm paranormal romance out in audiobook format, Blackwood Pack, Book 9: Mystic Guardian.
The Blackwood Pack saga continues…
This is part of an on-going series by Amazon International Bestselling Author, Mary Rundle – catching up on previous titles is advised. Readers of previous books will enjoy meeting old friends once more as the pack does what it does best ̶ caring for one another and helping shifters everywhere.
Carson never dreamed his six bothers would get their fated mates before he did and now, hanging on with the barest of hope he’d be next, he ends up devastated when it doesn’t happen. Unable to cope with seeing so many happy couples around him at the pack house in California, he accepts a job offer in France, intent on building a new life—only to discover the Fates have not forgotten him at all.
After graduating from university, Remy, a low-level warlock leaves the world of magic behind, believing there’s no place in it for him. Encouraged by his parents, to accept a job offer at the Chateau des Flammes winery, he begins working for Arthur MacDùghlas, the dragon shifter owner, finally finding a place for himself in the world.
Happy with his new position, Remy’s life abruptly changes when his parents unexpectedly die and he becomes the guardian of his three younger brothers. Muddling through the unexpected role of fatherhood, he finally finds his footing until…his life is upended once again when Carson, his fated mate arrives on his doorstep.
Shocking surprises, treacherous plots, an action-packed rescue, and many unexpected twists and turns make this passionate love story by Mary Rundle impossible to put down once you’ve read the first page.
Mary is giving away a $50 Amazon gift card with this tour:a Rafflecopter giveaway
Heading down the stairs, he listened to the ringing, hoping Henri wasn’t under a truck fixing something or other. “C’mon, Henri, pick up!” Someone had it out for him—it was the only explanation he could come up with. He made a mental note to check on who’d left recently—or had been fired.
“Bonjour, Mr. Marchant.”
“Oh, thank the gods!” Remy exclaimed. It seemed luck had not deserted him. “Henri, Fionn MacDùghlas is arriving today and I need you to pick him up at the airport. He’s coming in on a private jet.”
“Oui, Mr. Marchant. When will he be arriving?” asked Henri.
“In less than two hours. Can you do it?”
“Oui, it’ll be tight but I will make it.”
“Good…oh, and you better take the SUV. I’m not sure exactly how many will be with him but I know there’ll be at least one other.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll call when I have picked them up.”
“Thanks, Henri. Drive safe.”
After ending the call, Remy pocketed his phone before stopping in the kitchen to give his brothers a kiss good-bye. “You guys be good for Mrs. B. today,” he warned them, heading for the back door.
“Don’t you worry, Remy, the boys and I will be fine,” Mrs. Beasley said, her voice following him out.
Shutting the door behind him, Remy stopped, sniffing the air. Satisfied, he hurried to his car, climbed in and headed down the service road that would lead him to the winery.
“Sonofabitch!” he muttered, pressing down on the accelerator. Jerking the steering wheel back and forth, Remy tried to avoid the deep ruts left over from the last rainstorm. Making another mental note to have Jules regrade the road, he finally skidded to a stop in front of the building housing the fermenting tanks.
As the dust settled around the car, Remy climbed out, walking over to the locked door. Entering the security code, he waited until he heard the click, then entered, finding Pierre waiting for him just inside. “Did you check the security video, yet?”
“Oui, but there’s nothing.”
“Nothing? You didn’t see who did it?” asked Remy.
“Non,” Pierre answered, “because the video was black. There was nothing on it.”
“How can that be? Did we lose power last night?” asked Remy.
“Not that I can tell. There aren’t any records of alarms last night,” Pierre said. “And the cameras were running but someone blocked the lenses.”
“Fuck! So it must be an inside job if someone knew where the cameras were located.” Heading towards the fermenting room, he said, “Show me what you found.”
“I didn’t see anything out of order until I walked over to this first tank,” Pierre said, gesturing towards a big steel tank just inside the doorway. “When I opened it up to check, I found out it had spoiled—then I saw these,” he said, pointing to a few bugs at the base of the tank. “It’s the same for the next two. That’s when I called you.”
“You didn’t check any others?” asked Remy.
“Non,” Pierre said, “I waited for you.”
“Okay.” Remy walked over to the fourth tank, finding the same bugs on the floor. “Shit! Check this one.” Then he continued down the line finding three more that also had evidence of tampering. By the time they were through checking the rest, Remy counted seven tanks that were contaminated; the wine in them a total loss. “Damn!” he murmured. Standing back, he stared at the crime scene—something wasn’t adding up. Walking up to one tank, he squatted, picking up one of the bugs and rolling it between his fingers. Then laying the palm of his hand on the side of the tank, he closed his eyes, unleashing his other senses to explore. The shock zapping through his hand caused Remy to fall backward, landing on his ass. Holy fucking shit! No wonder the security video was black.
“Hey, what happened? Are you okay?” asked Pierre, offering a hand to help his boss up.
Rising, then brushing off the back of his pants, Remy answered, “Yeah, thanks. Hey, check that tank’s electrical, will you? Make sure there isn’t a short.”
“Sure. What do you want to do with the wine in the seven tanks?”
“Dump it,” Remy ordered, “it’s no use to us. But before you do that, show me the security video from last night.”
Pierre grunted, leading the way back to his office. “The only possibility I came up with was someone put a black cloth over the cameras.”
“Every one?” asked Remy. “What about the ones outside? Did you check those?”
Nodding, Pierre sat down at his desk, pulling up the camera videos on his computer monitor. “See, the cameras are working perfectly,” he said, watching the screen.
“What time did they go black?” asked Remy.
“When the shift changed…2 a.m.”
Remy examined the videos and wasn’t surprised at what he saw, especially after what happened back at the tank. “Okay, I’ve seen enough,” he said, heading towards the door. “I’ll be in my office. I’ll be tied up for most of the day, but I want the guards doubled from now on.”
“I’ll see to it,” Pierre replied, rising from his desk.
Climbing the wooden staircase to his office above the winery tasting room, Remy was deep in thought about what he found. Then sitting down at his desk, he swiveled his chair, his eyes looking out over the vineyards as his mind mulled over a mess of conflicting ideas. Was my instinct right? This was a personal attack meant to cause me harm…especially since it was done on the day the new owner was arriving. It was an easy conclusion to jump to but it didn’t explain the other times. But then, what about what I sensed? That certainly leads to me as the target. And I didn’t find it at the other crime scenes so whoever it is must be targeting me. The question is, why?
A few years ago, I wrote my first book, Dire Warning. Readers loved it and I was on my way to chronicle the Blackwood Pack, seven brothers who are gay wolf shifters in search of their fated mates—stories about love at first sight with twists and turns, angst and humor, romance and adventure and, of course, happy endings. Since then, the pack has expanded, allowing more stories to be told and different paranormals to be included. The series has become, as one reader described it…an “Epic Saga.”
Now, eleven books later, Blood Prophecy, has just been published. I love the M/M paranormal genre because it gives my imagination a lot of territory in which to roam. My mind can really run wild and come up with some amazing stuff when it doesn’t have to stay inside the box. My story ideas come to me as if they were being channeled by my characters, all of whom I love (except for a few villains). They are eager to recount their lives, loves and adventures, and are not reluctant to let it all out when it comes to revealing steamy details. My writing style is free-wheeling and uninhibited and my readers tell me they love it that way; that it makes them feel like they’re right in on the action and a member of the Blackwood Pack.
I live in the Northeast and love the beautiful change of seasons, my husband, and our quirky calico cat, though not necessarily in that order. I read a lot (good for the mind) and love gardening (good for the soul). And I’m always happy to hear from my readers and can be reached through Facebook, my private Facebook Group, Twitter, Instagram, or my website.
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