Club Revenge (Dysfunction at its Finest, Book 1) by J.M. Dabney @jmdabney_author #giveaway

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I want to say thank you for letting me share Club Revenge my Dark Fantasy/Paranormal Novel with you today. Part of me always wanted to be a writer and for as long as I can remember I’ve always had a notebook and pen handy. I never shared what I wrote, the dark stories filled with teen-angst and later the disillusionment of adulthood. Being able to label myself a published author while a dream of mine was never a goal I thought I’d achieve.

Several years ago, I started writing flash fiction behind a mask. Easier to post without using my actual name, yet I found a great group of friends and a bit of encouragement to do more. Six years later, I have two books published, a few finished and an overwhelming list of WIPs.

I’m a writer of primarily Lesbian Fiction and Romance, and Club Revenge has the romance, but it also has the darker elements I love to write. A little bloodshed never hurt a story or at least I don’t think it has. The Medina-Jackyl family has existed in my brain for so long and now that they’ve manifested in book form it’s a rather odd feeling.

The family isn’t your typical one, the series name is Dysfunction at its Finest and that’s exactly what it is. A paranormal dysfunctional family. Amora and Lark, Ripper and Tasha, and an oddball cast of characters are the culmination of a lot of work and I couldn’t be happier that the first introductions are made with more books to come. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy the layers that are CR with its Dark Age conspiracy theories, vengeful cults, Vamps, Shifters, and an annoying demon with his vague riddles.

Club Revenge CoverBLURB:

Amora Medina-Jackyl and her son, Ripper, know one thing well–vengeance. They inflicted pain without mercy to those who deserved the punishment. Although, they lived by one motto, family is to be protected above all else. When a child, an ancient cult murdered Amora’s parents and siblings. They never knew the Hell they brought down on themselves that one brutal night.

Amora was many things in her four centuries. A daughter and a sister, a mother, yet she was best known as a killer. When she meets her end, Amora will have hundreds, maybe thousands of lives to answer for. Her only wish is to find one moment of peace. She denies her need as much as she fights to protect it. When the one woman who can bring her serenity comes into her life, can Amora destroy century old walls to let her in?

Ripper has watched his mother fight savagely for others. He learned lessons in revenge from the moment of his birth; Ripper was his mother’s son. Yet he has a curse hanging over his head. A prophesy that wouldn’t be denied. He wants some semblance of normal. When he can’t deny his need for the one woman he’s kept his distance from would his love cause pain or pleasure?

When some truths come to light, the very reality of the family changes. Can they know something other than the taste of revenge and loss?


Smoke, flesh turned to ash and laughter met her screams. Her body bowed upward as she fought against the heaviness of chains. Screams and hisses turned to utterances of nonsense as she savored a moment’s reprieve before a broad body blocked the single, narrow window. Skin crackled and blisters seared her paper-thin flesh.

“Amora!” Her head thrashed with confusion, they never called her name with such concern; they never called her by her name at all. “Amora, please!” Terror, someone afraid for her, the sound beautiful in the torturous day. A scream pierced the cell as fire licked at her body; fingers and toes dug into soft, damp soil.

“You won’t break me! I’ll die first,” she hissed with her last stores of rage. Agony stole a bit more of her mind. Soft hands stroked her face, a comforting touch.

“Amora, come back to me please.” The plea was soft as tender lips touched hers.

Dream and reality battled for supremacy, memory pulled deeper, yet gentleness tried to lead her back from the precipice of darkness. Her crazed mind desperately tried to move closer to that voice calling to her, whispering to her of loving things. Hands seized her arms and the chains broke as she circled a slender throat and squeezed. The slight pain of nail pricks caused her lids to slam open. Frightened wide eyes in an ashen face stared at her and hands gripped her wrists.

“Lark!” She released the woman’s throat and searched frantically for damage, her fevered mind still lost partly in the past. “Are you insane? Never do that again.”

Her hands and fingertips caressed over Lark as the woman lay gasping on her bed. “Can you swallow?”

Her only answer was a jerky nod, until Lark spoke in a rough and cracked whisper. “I heard you scream.” Reality came back in a rush as she noticed her position. She lay between lush thighs. The T-shirt she’d let Lark borrow rested high on the sweet curve of Lark’s belly.

Lust gut-punched her and she rested her weight on one arm as she pushed the hem higher.

Small breasts were bared in the dim shuttered room; Lark’s tightly furled nipples were orbited by pale pink areolas that darkened to deep coral at the pointed peaks. She couldn’t help but lick her lips as she lowered her head to flick the hard tip of her tongue over one. The texture caused her to growl as Lark shivered and arched. “Pretty.”

Lowering her head she wrapped her lips around the hard bud and rolled her tongue over it. Amora sank her fangs into Lark’s tender flesh and tasted the perfect flavor of a few drops of blood on her tongue. It was the heady flavor of lust perfectly infused with fear and she increased the pressure for another taste. It was sweeter than the first time.

Lark’s trembling thighs gripped Amora’s hips. She angled her hips down and pushed her stomach to the heated folds. Wet cotton was warm where it met her cool skin and the scent of Lark’s arousal made all others pale. She sat up and rested back on her heels, draping Lark’s thighs over hers and scored the satiny skin inside with elongated nails until she met the creases where thighs met panties. “Is there nothing you’re going to say? Perhaps tell me no.”


Stiff Rain Press |Are | Amazon | Amazon UK | Amazon CA | Barnes & Noble


Meet the Author

Author ImageBy day, she’s an introverted cook hiding out in her kitchen in the middle of nowhere Ohio, by night and any free time she may have, she is a writer of mainly LGBTQ Fiction and Erotica. Although, she’s equal opportunity when it comes to telling a story, she’ll even write a bit of straight erotic romance when the mood strikes.

She has been writing for years in old notebooks. At the age of eight, she wrote the worst poem in the history of poetry, but it sparked her love for writing. She reads too much and loves to get lost in other worlds and her favorite stories have to include laughter and at least one reader doing a double take.

Thirty-something, forever restless, she uses her stories to ground herself, and find her place of peace.

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Winner 1 – One Copy of Club Revenge and a 10.00 Amazon Gift Card

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