Bound Book Tour & Giveaway

Blood binds them. Danger surrounds them. Love could destroy them.

Bound  

The Elite Series Book 1 

by Charley Black 

Genre: Dystopian Vampire Paranormal Romance 

Bound by blood, Marked by rebellion, Destined for a love that could save or destroy them.

A forbidden bond. A crumbling city. A choice that could change everything.

Serenity

Becoming an Elite—a blood donor for the Vampyr—was never part of the plan. But with my family’s lives on the line, I had no choice but to step out of hiding and into a world I barely understand. My rare blood has made me a target, and now, I’m bound to Kane—the ruthless, untouchable head of the Vampyr Council.

The rebels want to use me. My family depends on me. And Kane… he’s the only one who can keep me alive—but trusting him? That might be the most dangerous gamble of all.

Kane

I never wanted an Elite. I certainly didn’t need one—especially not Serenity. She’s everything I’ve avoided: human, stubborn, and a complication I can’t afford. But from the moment I met her, she turned my world upside down.

Her blood sustains me, but it’s her spirit that leaves me hungry for more. As rebellion threatens to tear the city apart, my focus should be on holding everything together—not on the one woman who’s become my greatest weakness.

She’s more than just a distraction. She’s a risk. One I shouldn’t take.

But I can’t let her go. And if I’m not careful, she might destroy me—or save us all.

In a world where blood is currency and love is forbidden, Bound is a spellbinding tale of passion, betrayal, and a bond that could shatter a city—or bring it to its knees.

Fans of dstopyian fantasy, forbidden romance, and slow-burn tension will devour Bound, the first book in The Elite Series.

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Book Links:
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Bound-Dystopian-Vampire-Romance-Elite-ebook/dp/B0DRW75BX5

Apple: https://books.apple.com/us/book/bound/id6740550145

B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/bound-charley-black/1146765315?ean=2940184404448

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Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/182983935-bound

Book Trailer:

CHAPTER ONE

Serenity

The Elite Program.

Every person, regardless of age or hatred for their kind, yearned to be selected. Deep down, they craved the privileges of being an Elite—the ones who willingly offered themselves to the vampyrs. But not her.

Serenity had no such desires; she refused to be a meal for anyone, no matter how tempting the rewards seemed. Yet, her personal feelings were irrelevant now. This program was her last hope, and if it didn’t work, she dreaded turning to Jax for help—something she desperately wanted to avoid.

Looking up at the clock, its hands slowly ticked as she waited for the nurse to arrive and begin the process that would, hopefully, improve her and her family’s lives.

Sighing deeply to calm her rising nerves, Serenity’s eyes wandered around the office, taking in the sterile and impersonal atmosphere. Four white walls encased a stark, bare office containing only the essentials: a simple desk, a utilitarian chair, a computer, a printer, and a cold, metal filing cabinet. There were no pictures or decorations. It was as if they intentionally designed it to be unwelcoming, discouraging any sense of comfort or happiness.

Honestly, it didn’t make any sense. One would think they would try to create a more inviting space to welcome potential Elites. The environment’s lack of warmth and care showed her what she was truly signing up for and how she’d be treated as soon as her application was approved.

And they would approve it. She did not doubt that.

Serenity had the type of blood that the vampyr wanted… and craved. At least, that was what her father told her. Only those with the rarest of blood types were selected as Elites.

Anyone whose blood type was A or B was automatically entered into the system as a donor, regardless of whether they were positive or negative. O positives were rarely chosen, and O negatives had better chances only if specifically requested. AB positives, the rarest of the rare type, were treated like gold and were consistently selected as Elites, typically matched with the wealthiest of the vampyrs. This made Serenity think despite their claims, money still talked within their society. AB negatives were a myth, according to the locals. Still, they were believed to represent a divine gift in vampiric lore, ‘ambrosia,’ so treasured that only the upper echelons in vampyr society knew of their existence.

As an AB negative, her blood was revered as the most delectable drink. She almost felt violated knowing that such an intimate part of her was seen as a commodity, something to be consumed with primal delight. It wasn’t just about her, though.

The Elite program was supposed to bring balance and peace between the two races, a part of the treaty the humans and vampyrs signed before she was born. But it seemed the vampyrs ruled their lives, despite humans sitting on the city’s governing Council. All the rules seemed to cater to the vampyrs survival, not humanity’s. It was infuriating.

When the office door opened, Serenity turned in her chair to see a petite woman in black scrubs walking through. The woman had caramel-colored skin and dark eyes. A laminated card clipped to her shirt read “Shelia” in bold capital letters.

“Can I have your name, please?” the nurse asked, sitting on the other side of the desk and placing a clipboard with an application next to the computer.

Such a simple question, but for Serenity, it was surrendering to the inevitable. Call it an innate feeling, but she had always known she would end up here signing up to be an Elite.

She couldn’t explain how, but a small part of her, deep inside, suspected it had to do with the rarity of her blood type. As if it had always known this would be her fate. But it was only a feeling and possibly the wariness of her situation.

Either way, she was here now. Taking a deep breath, she reluctantly spoke her name aloud. “Serenity.”

The words felt like a prison sentence once they left her mouth. Every inch of her screamed for her to get up and run away. They only had her first name. There was still the possibility of escape. She could get on the bus and go back home, where it was safe.

But she couldn’t. Not if she wanted to save her family. This was her choice, her sacrifice.

Her mother couldn’t become an Elite because of her sickness, and her sister was too young and sick, so it had to be her. They needed medicine, and this was the only way they could afford it.

Shelia’s kind smile and soothing voice washed over her, easing the tension in her shoulders. “What is your full name, honey? You don’t have to be nervous. You may not even get approved. This is just the application stage,” she assured her.

She was right; this was just the application process. She hadn’t even given a blood sample yet.

If Serenity was being honest with herself, she couldn’t deny the fear that gripped her. The thought of encountering a vampyr had always terrified her. She had hoped never to face one, but now, everything was about to change. She was preparing to leave behind everything she knew.

But she pushed those thoughts aside for the moment. She needed to focus on getting through this, or else her instincts would take over, and she would flee. Steeling herself with a deep breath, she forced the words out. “Serenity R. Wright.”

Shelia punched her name into the machine, attempting to assess her medical history. Her father had burned and erased every document that could identify her blood type a long time ago, insisting it was to keep her safe from them.

As Shelia stared intently at the screen, Serenity knew she was seeing the bare minimum of information. Her father had been thorough in keeping her out of the system. She had been homeschooled, never left the human districts, and always kept a low profile.

The scent of her mother’s homemade herbal concoction lingered on every piece of clothing she wore. The blend of lemon tea tree oil, activated charcoal, rosemary, and vanilla was meant to hide her natural scent.

Since she was young, she’d relied on it to cover up her unique scent. Her mother would create soap and shampoo for her to use and a specialized spray for when she ventured out into public. She always carried a small bottle of vinegar with her, a precaution in case she encountered any vampyrs.

She also wore a light brown cloak whenever she went out. But her mother believed her father’s true intentions were to hide her curly hair and honey-brown eyes, fearing they would attract unwanted attention. She never left without her cloak whenever she traveled, especially outside their district.

Except for today. She felt vulnerable without it but wouldn’t need it after this.

Shelia glanced up from the computer with curiosity evident in her eyes. “The only record we have of you in the system is your birth date. Have you never had a physical?”

It didn’t surprise Serenity that the woman was curious. If she were in her shoes, she would feel the same way. Her answer was simple: “My father was a doctor. He handled all my physicals and medical records.”

The memory of her father hung heavy in the air. He had been training her to be a nurse to help her mother and sister with their medical needs. But his life was cut short by a sudden heart attack during one of his routine trips into the city for more medicine.

With his absence, Serenity felt a part of herself missing; however, her family relied on her strength.

“He didn’t update your records.” Shelia glanced back at the screen and  asked, “What was his name?”

“Dr. Richard J. Wright.” She wouldn’t find him in the system. He never officially returned to practicing as a doctor after the war. He only worked as an informal doctor for their neighbors and friends.

The nurse’s brows scrunched in concentration as she surveyed her computer screen. “I can’t find him in the system, and your records have not been updated. We’ll need to do a physical today and draw blood to get your blood type for your application. Let me see if we can squeeze you in with Dr. Bradford.”

Serenity anticipated this; she had mentally prepared for this precise moment. But even with all her preparation, she couldn’t shake the waves of anxiety that threatened to engulf her. Soon, they would know her secret, and she would be in danger. But her family would be saved, reaping the benefits of her becoming an Elite.

She despised the crushing weight of her family’s future on her shoulders; the pressure was almost suffocating. Her palms were slick with sweat, and her chest tightened as she struggled to hold back a sob.

Needing to gather herself, she inhaled deeply and closed her eyes, seeking respite from the tension. Her mind raced with conflicting thoughts, and she was torn between the responsibility she bore and the fear of what lay ahead.

It was a delicate balancing act; her determination to be strong for her family clashing with the nagging doubt and uncertainty gnawing at her resolve. She knew she had to be here, but that didn’t make it any easier. The emotional turmoil within her was like a storm raging beneath a calm exterior.

With a quiet yet determined resolve, Serenity opened her eyes, squared her shoulders, and braced herself for whatever lay beyond those cold, impersonal walls. She couldn’t let anxiety derail her; her family depended on her strength.

“Don’t worry, honey.” The sympathy in Shelia’s eyes didn’t help her worry. “The physical exam is painless, and the blood drawing is quick and painless.”

But it wasn’t the exam that made Serenity anxious. She was uncertain what would happen once her application was submitted, and there was no turning back.

Shelia typed a few more notes on her computer.

“Alright. I was able to squeeze you with Dr. Bradford. She is wonderful. This way.”

Shelia stood, grabbing a piece of paper from the printer before moving towards the door. Serenity stood to follow when suddenly Shelia stopped and turned back to her.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” Shelia asked with a seriousness that almost made Serenity want to run. “Once we walk out the door, there is no turning back. Your name will be filed into the system forever.”

Even if she wasn’t approved by some chance of fate, her name would still be recorded in their databases, making her a potential target in a future blood drought—which meant that if they ever ran out of human recruits, they could call upon her. It was one of the risks she took by even walking into the clinic, but it was her only choice.

“I understand your concern, and thank you for it, but I have to do this.”

Shelia nodded slightly and opened the door. Her eyes, wide with uncertainty, met Serenity’s briefly before she led them into the hallway, closing the door behind them.

Serenity was happy to know that at least one of the nurses here cared about the humans who signed up and ensured this was their choice. This gave her some hope that this whole process wouldn’t be as dreadful as she thought.

Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself and followed Shelia into the hallway, heart pounding as she contemplated what lay ahead.

Giveaway

$30 Amazon giftcard (WW),

Signed Copy of Bound (US oonly) 

– 1 winner each! 

Follow the tour HERE for special content and a giveaway!

https://sdbook.promo/Bound

About the Author 

Charley Black is an up-and-coming writer and author who has been creating stories since she was twelve years old.

Her early short stories dabbled in different genres, but her passion for romance novels — paranormal romance in particular — always shone through.

Charley currently resides in Rhode Island, with her family and works at a local university. 

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Author Links

Website: https://www.charleyblack.com/theeliteseries

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Wind From The Abyss Book Tour

Estri’s life is shattered. Her name, her memories, her past—gone. Pulled into a world of cosmic intrigue and divine manipulation, she must navigate a realm where gods test her resolve. 

Wind From the Abyss 

The Silistra Quartet Book 3 

By Janet Morris 

Genre: Dystopian SciFi Fantasy Adventure 

Dystopia. Novel series #2 of 4. Fantasy. Science fiction. Allegory. Political.

Wind from the Abyss is the third volume in Janet Morris’ classic Silistra Quartet, continuing one woman’s quest for self-realization in a distant tomorrow.

Aristocrat. Outcast. Picara. Slave. Ruler ….

She is descended from the masters of the universe. To hold her he challenges the gods themselves.

Praise for Janet Morris’ Silistra Quartet: 

“The amazing and erotic adventures of the most beautiful courtesan in tomorrow’s universe.” — Fred Pohl

“Engrossing characters in a marvelous adventure.” — Charles N. Brown, Locus Magazine.

The best single example of prostitution used in fantasy is Janet Morris’ Silsitra series.” — Anne K. Kahler, The Picara: From Hera to Fantasy Heroine.

This Perseid Press Author’s Cut Edition is revised and expanded by the author and presented in a format designed to enhance your reading experience with larger, easy-to-read print, more generous margins, and covers designed for these premium editions.

**On Sale for Only $2.99!**

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Book Links:
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Wind-Abyss-Silistra-Quartet-Book-ebook/dp/B01M5HSQX2

B&N: https://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/wind-from-the-abyss-janet-morris-msc/1006098481?ean=2940156788378

Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/books/wind-from-the-abyss-by-janet-morris

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/32825168-wind-from-the-abyss

**Don’t miss the rest of the Silistra Quartet!**

Find them on Amazon!

Excerpt

Since, at the beginning of this tale, I did not recollect myself nor retain even the slightest glimmer of such understanding as would have led me to an awareness of the significance of the various occurrences that transpired at the Lake of Horns then, I am adding this preface, though it was no part of my initial conception, that the meaningfulness of the events described by “Khys’ Estri” (as I have come to think of the shadow-self I was while the dharen held my skills and memory in abeyance) not be withheld from you as they were from me.

I knew myself not: I was Estri because the girl Carth supposedly found wandering in the forest stripped of comprehension and identity chose that name.

There, perhaps, lies the greatest irony of all, that I named myself anew after Estri Hadrath diet Estrazi, who in reality I had once been.

And perhaps it is not irony at all, but an expression of Khys’ humor, an implicit dissertation by him who structured my experiences, my very thoughts, for nearly two years, until his audacity drove him to bring together once more Sereth crill Tyris, past-Slayer, then the outlawed Ebvrasea, then arrar to the dharen himself; Chayin rendi Inekte, cahndor of Nemar, co-cahndor of the Taken Lands, chosen so of Tar-Kesa, and at that time Khys’ puppet-vassal; and myself, former Well-Keepress, tiask of Nemar, and lastly becoming the chaldless outlaw who had come to judgment and endured ongoing retribution at the dharen’s hands.

To test his hesting, his power over owkahen, the time-coming-to-be, did Khys put us together, all three, in his Day-Keeper’s city — and from that moment onward, the Weathers of Life became fixed: siphoned into a singular future; sealed tight as a dead god in his mausoleum, whose every move brought him closer to the sum total, obliteration. So did the dharen Khys bespeak it, himself …

I. In Mourning for the Unrecollected

The hulion hovered, wings aflap, at the window, butting its black wedge of a head against the pane. Its yellow eyes glowed cruelly, slit-pupiled. Its white fangs, gleaming, were each as long as my forearm.

I screamed. Its tufted ears, flat against its head, twitched. Again and again, toothed mouth open wide, it battered at the window, roaring. Once more I screamed and ran stumbling to the far wall of my prison.

I pounded upon the locked doors with my fists, pressing myself against the wood. Sobbing, I turned to face it. The beast’s ears flickered at the sound. Those jaws, which could have snapped me in half, closed. It cocked its head.

I trembled, caught in its gaze. I could retreat no farther. I sank to my knees, moaning, against the door frame.

The beast gave one final snort. Those wings, with a spread thrice the length of a tall man, flapped decisively, and it was gone.

When the hulion was no more than a speck in the greening sky, I rose clumsily, shaking, to collect the papers I had strewn across the mat in my terror.

They were the arrar Carth’s papers, those he had forgotten in his haste to answer his returning master’s summons.

I knelt upon my hands and knees on the silvery pile, that I might gather the pages and replace them in the tas-sueded folder before Carth returned.

Foolish, I thought to myself, that I had so feared the hulion. It could not have gotten in.

I could not get out: It could not get in. Once I had thrown a chair at that impervious clarity. The chair had splintered. With one stout thala leg, as thick as my arm, had I battered upon that window.

All I had accomplished was the transformation of chair into kindling. The hulion, I chided myself, could have fared no better.

Hulions, upon occasion, have been known to eat man-flesh. Hulions, furred and winged, fanged and clawed, are the servants of the dharen who rules Silistra.

I had had no need to fear. Yet, I thought as I gathered the arrar Carth’s scattered papers, hulions are fearsome.

Perhaps if I had been able, as others are, to hear its mind’s intent, I would have felt differently. My fingers, numb and trembling, fumbled for the delicate sheets.

One in particular caught my eye. It was in Carth’s precise hand and headed: “Pre-assessment Monitoring of the Arrar Sereth. Enar Fourth Second, 25,697.”

I had met, once, the arrar Sereth. Upon my birthday, Macara fourth seventh, in the year ’696 had I met him, that night my child had been conceived.

I had read of his exploits. He frightened me, killer of killers, enforcer for the dharen, he who wore the arrar: chald of the messenger. Sereth, scarred and lean and taut like some carnivore, who had loved the Keepress Estri, my namesake, and with her brought great change to Silistra in the pass Amarsa, 25,695 — yes, I had met him.

About the Author

Best selling author Janet Morris began writing in 1976 and has since published more than 30 novels, many co-authored with her husband Chris Morris or others.

She has contributed short fiction to the shared universe fantasy series Thieves World, in which she created the Sacred Band of Stepsons, a mythical unit of ancient fighters modeled on the Sacred Band of Thebes.

She created, orchestrated, and edited the Bangsian fantasy series Heroes in Hell, writing stories for the series as well as co-writing the related novel, The Little Helliad, with Chris Morris.

She wrote the bestselling Silistra Quartet in the 1970s, including High Couch of Silistra, The Golden Sword, Wind from the Abyss, and The Carnelian Throne.

This quartet had more than four million copies in Bantam print alone, and was translated into German, French, Italian, Russian and other languages. In the 1980s, Baen Books released a second edition of this landmark series.

The third edition is the Author’s Cut edition, newly revised by the author for Perseid Press. Most of her fiction work has been in the fantasy and science fiction genres, although she has also written historical and other novels.

Morris has written, contributed to, or edited several book-length works of non-fiction, as well as papers and articles on nonlethal weapons, developmental military technology and other defense and national security topics.

Janet says: ‘People often ask what book to read first. I recommend “I, the Sun” if you like ancient history; “The Sacred Band,” a novel, if you like heroic fantasy; “Lawyers in Hell” if you like historical fantasy set in hell; “Outpassage” if you like hard science fiction; “High Couch of Silistra” if you like far-future dystopian or philosophical novels.

I am most enthusiastic about the definitive Perseid Press Author’s Cut editions, which I revised and expanded.’

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