#Review: “The King’s Fate (Corvidae Guard #1)” by Rissa Blakeley

The Kings Fate

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Book Title: The King’s Fate
Author: Rissa Blakeley
Genre: Paranormal Romance,Erotic (M/M & M/F/M)
Release Date: June 7, 2016
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

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Felicia’s Review – 4/5 Stars!

Just when you think Vampires are the top of the food chain in the paranormal realm, along comes Fae Incubus Leolin Kyffin. Already vain, arrogant AND pompous (was that redundant?), Leo also becomes overwhelmed with revenge against Vampire King Zachariah Orsovo after Leo’s beloved Louise is killed while trying to carry out their plan to murder the king. (Still follow me? Good.)

Siring a child with a naïve, young vampiress, Leo puts his plan in motion and waits patiently. As the child ages, Leo plants the necessary thoughts into the King’s mind during his dreams, as he does for his son, Monty – half Fae, half vampire.

Leo is a real piece of work!

As the story unfolds and progresses, the characters are all merely puppets dancing to Leo’s tune…only they are all completely unaware…for a time.

For his part, Leo is actually the only truly unlikable person in this drama…as it should be. Okay, I lied. Rhun had absolutely no redeeming social qualities. Zachariah is a strong King, and very intelligent. Corvidae Guards Franco and Hakon are loyal to a fault. Your heart goes out to them at different times…at both their despair over losing their King, and when Franco’s beloved leaves him to travel to the Americas, and when Hakon’s former Roamer instincts threaten to overtake him again. (For the sake of this review, I’ll define a ‘Roamer’ as a Zombie – read the book for the rest! LOL!)

Although he is not responsible for who and what he is, Monty annoyed me. At times he seemed bi-polar, swinging back and forth between being submissive, and being demanding. At one point, I wanted to shake him and yell, “Dude! Choose a personality already!” After a stroke of luck, and a bit of illegal deal-making, Monty does ‘save the day’…and the whining commences again. To be fair, some of Monty’s issues are valid. Does the king only want him because of Leo’s machinations?

A host of other characters pass through, all adding to the well-developed storyline. But, It is Bethan who sticks out with me…for taking Leolin to task, and for being instrumental in helping Monty be the hero. Although, the deal she strikes with him makes me wonder if I’ll like her as much when she reappears…and I know she HAS to…right?

The King’s Fate is well written. The story and characters are well-developed, and the attention to detail is outstanding. Grammar is spot on…and amusing, especially after the time shift. Typos are present, but minimal. I have not read anything by this author before, but I definitely will in the future.

Some might say this story ends on a cliff-hanger, but I’d have to disagree. I loathe cliff-hangers. The end is satisfying for the resolution to one problem, and makes the reader wonder, and look forward to how the other will be dealt with.

Add The King’s Fate to your TBR ASAP. You’ll be glad you did.


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#ReleaseBlitz: ‘Killing the Sun’ by K. Larsen and Mara White


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KILLING THE SUN is a collaborative novel by K. Larsen and Mara White.

KTS is not a ROMANCE


This book features a non-linear time line, some violence as well as graphic sex.

Do not read this book if you don’t like antiheroes.

Do not read this book if sexual sadism makes you uncomfortable.

Do not read this book if you don’t like dubious consent.

Do not read this book if you are looking for a traditional HEA.

Do not read this book if you like demure heroines and swashbuckling heroes.

KTS is a serial novel that will come in three novellas released in rapid succession.

If you choose to take this ride, please do so at your own risk.

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In Chickasaw County, Oklahoma, there is a manmade lake. There used to be a small, natural lake there filled with bass, crappie and bream. My grandfather would fish in those waters, wearing thigh-high waders alongside the tall wading birds poking around for fish eggs. It was rumored that the waters had healing powers, that the native people drank from the natural springs to heal ailments and to purify the spirit.

As kids we swam there, even as the township enlarged the lake and pushed hard to attract campers and speed boaters, jet skiers and anglers, anything other than us local kids learning to do underwater handstands and doggy paddle. I was an okay swimmer, I guess, at least before I developed breasts, but Storm and Farren were champions, the very best. They were the strongest swimmers in the school district, and nobody could keep up with them.

After the age of ten, I only entered the water in shorts and a T-shirt, no matter how hot the summer sun, no matter how few people were swimming or roaming the shore. I used to think I stopped wearing a bathing suit because I’d gotten my period or because my breasts were bigger than any other ten-year-old west of the Mississippi. Sometimes I speculated it was because of the murder, that stripping down in front of strangers, letting them really see me, had become nothing short of unbearable. I hated to be vulnerable.

After they found the Dodge Dart, I realized that maybe it was just my subconscious calling to me. Avoid the lake, it’s a watery grave, a family crypt that is too saturated with history.

It was the summer after I graduated high school that they found the Dart. Eight years were enough for the scandal to settle, even in a town like Sulphur; they’d put it to rest, especially after the murder/suicide on the campground out by the highway. Just some other drunk and homicidal idiots, but at least not from my family. The gossip had gotten quieter and quieter until it was barely more than a whisper from the grocery cart behind me in line at the store or the big-eared teenager handing out rental shoes at the bowling alley. I could see it in their eyes, but at least strangers had stopped asking. They’d stopped talking behind my back and, most importantly, stopped staring. Until that one hot July when they’d dredged both lakes, Veteran’s and Arbuckle, using up city money to elevate the dams and make improvements for tourism.

I was in the trailer swatting flies and leafing through a Sears catalogue when Stacey Dobson rapped on the screen door, yelling, “Aimeee!” and got me tripping over chairs on my way to the door, convinced that a tornado must be tearing through.

“They found your dad’s car! At the bottom of the lake!”

Her cheeks were flushed pink from running in the stagnant heat, and circles of darker purple stained the armpits of her jumper.

“What?” I asked. I remembered standing in the doorframe. I thought about his body on the floor, how his skin felt like wet plastic wrap over raw liver after all signs of life had left him. The look of death in his eyes was really the most sober I could remember ever seeing him.

“The car was at the bottom of the lake! They drained it to widen the lakebed and there it was, sitting out in the middle.”

“Was it empty?” I asked her, my eyes narrowing to take her in. She was nearsighted, the Dobson girl, and in all remedial classes at the high school. She was a few years older than me. As children we’d been amicable in a freeze tag, king of the mountain, Barbie-sharing sort of way, but after my dad died, I looked at everyone suspiciously, wondering what they could want from me. I would have no friends in this place.

Stacey looked desperate and disheveled, sweat along her hairline, pinpoints of red starting to appear on her face.

“Don’t know, they just brought in a tow truck to pull it out. You can only see the top of it.”

“How do you know it’s my dad’s car?” The words felt sharp as they exited my mouth, like they had tines and were looking to plunge into any soft surface. Stacey’s chubby cheeks, the soft round of her gut. It had been a long time since I’d said my dad, words I typically avoided at all costs.

“Divers,” Stacey said. Her eyes lit up like streetlights through a dismal fog. The lack of news in this town turned everyone into vultures for tragedy.

“Let’s go,” I said. I jammed my keys in my pocket and threw my yellow and green windbreaker over my shoulder. Grabbing a pack of cigarettes and a lighter my mom had left on the counter, I switched off the light and promised myself that I wouldn’t stick around this damned town only to witness my own downfall. Damned if I’d let them all stand around defaming and slandering my family with not a one of us to hold them accountable for their local poison—a bitter mouthful of gossip. Show them that an Olsen, at least this Olsen, didn’t have mercy for anyone dumb enough to cross her.

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K. Larsen

I am an avid reader, coffee drinker, and chocolate eater who loves writing. I received my B.A. from Simmons College-a while ago. I currently live with my daughter in Maine.

I’m working on my sixth novel out later this year. I’ve published Tug Of War, Objective, Resistance, Saving Caroline, 30 Days, Committed and Dating Delaney. Enjoy!

I love hearing from you so please feel free to contact me!

Author links

Twitter  Facebook Website Goodreads  Amazon page  Instagram

Mara White

Mara White is a contemporary romance and erotica writer who laces forbidden love stories with hard issues, such as race, gender and inequality. She holds an Ivy League degree but has also worked in more strip clubs than even she can remember. She is not a former Mexican telenovela star contrary to what the tabloids might say, but she is a former ballerina and will always remain one in her heart. She lives in NYC with her husband and two children and yes, when she’s not writing you can find her on the playground.

Author Links

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#ReleaseBlitz: “The King’s Fate” by Rissa Blakeley

The Kings Fate

release day blitzTKF eBook

Book Title: The King’s Fate
Author: Rissa Blakeley
Genre: Paranormal Romance,Erotic (M/M & M/F/M)
Release Date: June 7, 2016
Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions

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book blurb

In a world where Fae and Vampire will forever be at odds, a Vampire wins the crown, ruling the Fae Realm for the first time in history.

An Incubus, Leolin Kyffin, and his barren Succubus, Louise Bach, plot to end King Zachariah Orsova’s life, allowing them to rule the Fae Realm.

Through Louise’s encouragement, Leolin walks into a female Vampire’s dream and mates with her, breaking Zachariah’s law. His hope is to create what he thinks will be the most powerful half-breed known to the Realm.

When Zachariah kills the Succubus, Leolin vows revenge, sacrificing his half-breed son, Monty Saxon, and using him as a pawn to tear out the King’s heart, hoping to make him feel the pain of death while living.

When Leolin walks into Zachariah’s dreams, he fills his mind with unimaginable thoughts and desires. Doing the same to Monty, he secures his devious plot, patiently waiting for the precise moment Zachariah and Monty will be brought together as one.

The choices Leolin makes all add up to delivering a fate worse than death to his half-breed son and the King of the Fae Realm. Will Leolin avenge the murder of Louise? Will Zachariah and Monty survive, or will they be left suffering in the end?


“Allow me to do the questioning, Håkon,” Zachariah said as they walked into the Saxon Inn.

“Aye, my King,” he muttered, annoyance lacing his tone.

Zachariah turned and glared at him. “Need I remind you with whom you are speaking?”

“No, Sire.”

“Very well then.” Zachariah turned and headed straight for the bar. “Two ales, please,” he said to the barkeep.

“On the house for the King and my dear old friend,” Ivar said, smiling.

Håkon stared at him for a moment before he let out a tight smile, going back to his standard hard glare a moment later. Ivar poured two ales and set the mugs in front of them.

“How can I help you gentlemales this evening?”

Zachariah took a sip and sighed. “Very well. I’ve heard some strange whispers about the other evening’s…events.”

“Events?” Ivar questioned.

“I heard about the possibility of a murder or two here. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

“No, my King. I just work the bar.” Ivar smiled, his nerves making his bottom lip twitch.

“It would be wise to be truthful while addressing your King,” Zachariah said, lifting the mug to his lips once more.

“If you know something, Ivar, tell him,” Håkon said. “It will be much easier on all of us.”

Ivar leaned too close for the Viking’s comfort, forcing him to place his arm between the male and the King.

“Aye,” the King said. “Allow the male some space.” Håkon glanced at Zachariah, then sat on the stool next to him and picked up the mug of ale, taking a long pull.

“It was two Fae. Somehow, they came in undetected. When Rhun figured out what was going on, they threatened him with a knife. I assure you, it was only self-defense.”

Zachariah glanced at his guardsmale, then picked up his mug and took another sip. “Very interesting.”

“That is the Gods’ honest truth, my King.”

“Ivar! We need another barrel…” Rhun stopped as he rounded the back corner of the bar. “My King,” he said, bowing his head.

“Rhun Saxon. How are you this fine evening?”

“I’m well, my King. What brings you in? I have no females available for feeding. All have been used already.”

“I’m not interested in feeding. I thought I would come in and have a mug of ale while Baldric fits my new friend for some clothing. Seems someone left him naked, bloodied, and beaten in the back alley between your establishment and my tailor’s. Does any of this ring a bell?”

A snarl lifted Rhun’s upper lip. Before his fangs descended, Håkon reached out and grabbed him by the shirt collar. “Don’t even think about it. If you lower those short little pricks of yours, I will pluck them out. Have I made myself clear?”

“Calm down, Viking. Let the male go.”

“Aye, Sire,” he growled in the innkeeper’s face before stepping away.

“Now, tell me, why would you do such a thing to your son, Rhun?”

Rhun spit on the floor. “He is not my lad.”

“No?” Zachariah asked, playing ignorant.

“My wife lay with another male. A Fae.” He spit again. “I hope she burns in the pits of the Realm for her trespasses.”

“Oh? Is Carlyn around? I could question her for you. I’m sure she would be honest with her King.”

Zachariah probed Rhun’s mind and, with ease, maneuvered his way in. Unnoticed, he sifted through his memories until he came to Carlyn’s body seizing under a silver stake pushed into her heart. His hand ached from the burn of the silver. He then probed between the dark corners and down the black corridors, seeing a large, blurry-faced male fucking Monty, a female positioned below, enjoying his cock. A knife dripped with blood before it was plunged into the neck of another blurry-faced male. A Fae. Zachariah pulled back from his mind.

“She had a tragic accident on her horse. It bucked her off, breaking her neck. I always told her that stallion was no good for riding, but you know how females are. She thought she could tame the beast.”

Zachariah chuckled. “Those females. Such naughty creatures.”

“That’s right. Monty is now unclaimed as my heir.”

“So now that Monty’s mother has passed and you have unclaimed him as your son, are you telling me he is my responsibility? The King of the Realm is now responsible for a lad raised by another male who, as I can see with my own eyes, still walks the Human Realm? You left him broken in the alley with no food, shelter, or clothing on his back. As the King, it has now been placed on my shoulders to care for a lad who was raised to know nothing more than stables, cleaning chamber pots, sweeping floors, and fucking?”

“He is not a Saxon. I said I no longer claim him.”

“Mind your tone. You are speaking with your King,” Håkon reminded Rhun.

“Thank you, Viking. He shall mind his tone now, or he will be licking the shit off my boots.” Zachariah smiled, then asked, “Do you know what type of Fae she lay with?”

“No,” Rhun whispered.

Håkon cupped his ear. “What was that? No…?”

“No, my King. I do not know what type of Fae Carlyn lay with,” Rhun grumbled. Håkon smirked when, out of the corner of his eye, he saw Ivar trying to stifle a chuckle.

“I see.” Zachariah threw back the last of the ale in the mug and slammed it down on the bar. He stood, forcing everyone to look at him. “You didn’t take a moment to ask before driving a stake through her heart? What a sight that must have been for you. Does your hand still hurt from the silver burn? Maybe you should’ve asked the Vampire and two Fae you slaughtered in one of this fine establishment’s rooms upstairs.” His gaze flickered to Ivar, whose eyes had widened. “Ivar, this is your last chance to tell me the truth. If you lie again, you will be bowing headless.”

“I didn’t see what happened, my King. All I know is he asked me to help clean up the mess. I know nothing about his wife and son.”

Zachariah refocused on Rhun. “Come before me and kneel.”


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meet the author

12553014_445580098975636_7704215590528845850_nRissa Blakeley is the author of the paranormal romance series, Corvidae Guard, and the post-apocalypse saga, Shattered lives. Her short story, A Little Taste of Naughty, was part of the best-selling anthology, Just Desserts.

As a native New Yorker, Rissa is now a Georgia transplant, who is completely addicted to black coffee, La Croix and obsessively listens to songs on repeat. Her days are full of characters screaming for more scenes, cats living up to their Harry Potter namesakes, lazy dogs, a teenage daughter bringing Emo back, and a Viking husband, who finds her puns less than funny. When Rissa isn’t writing, she can be found procrastinating on social media.

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