The Brotherhood Files Book Tour & Giveaway

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Maris The Brotherhood Files Book 1 by Isaiyan Morrison Genre: Paranormal Urban Fantasy

She gave me her blood, and my life changed forever. Anastasia. My sire. The only influential figure in my already-fragile life. She did this to me. She caused all the pain and suffering. There was a time I believed I owed her everything. After all, she gave me immortality and the never-ending thirst for the psychic energy contained in the blood of my victims. But now vampires hunt me and the humans want to use me as their personal weapon. They believe I’m some apotropaic figurine that can damn all Deamhan and force us back into hell where we belong. Me? I just want to live. I just want to be Maris. That way, the only one I can damn is myself. Goodreads * Amazon

Remy The Brotherhood Files Book 2

For Deamhan, revenge is the best dish of all. In 1840s Paris, vampires aren’t just at the throats of humans. Split into two warring factions, Dorvo vampires wage war against the Deamhan, their paranormal cousins created by dark magic and who feed on the psychic energy of their human victims. In this strange new world, Remy, a bourgeoisie, is sired as a Deamhan by Julian. But the intoxicating rush of becoming a powerful psychic vampire is soon eclipsed by the presence of Ruby, a beautiful yet elusive Dorvo vampire. Betrayed by his own, Ruby feeds his undesirable urge to have his revenge against Julian and the rest of the Deamhan. But he doesn’t know if he can trust Ruby. She may have given him his freedom, but she’s still the enemy who has vowed to vanquish the Deamhan, the very same Deamhan that betrayed him. Now it’s up to Remy to decide who to trust — and who to destroy. In Remy, The Brotherhood Files, author Isaiyan Morrison presents a paranormal urban fantasy about fractured relationships, mistrust, and forgiveness. Here in the City of Love, it’s anything but, as Remy’s caught between two warring sides who both want him gone. Will his desire for revenge cloud his judgment? Or will he figure out who he can trust once and for all? In this wild journey from the graveyard and through the dark alleys and cobblestoned streets of Paris, Remy is both hunter…and prey. Goodreads * Amazon

A veteran of the Armed Forces, Isaiyan Morrison was born and raised in Minneapolis. Her passions include writing, reading, and researching historical events. She also spends her time gardening, playing video games, and hanging out with her three cats and beloved pit bull. She’s the author of The Deamhan Chronicles and the novel, Old Farmer’s Road. Be sure to sign up for her Newsletter to be notified of Isaiyan’s newest releases! https://BookHip.com/LNKFHF Website * Facebook * Twitter * Instagram * Bookbub * Amazon * Goodreads * Newsletter

The bond I had with Jesse grew stronger, reminding me of my own bond with Finley. At night,
we became an unstoppable force and whatever differences we had dematerialized in the wind. He
loved picking out who he considered to be the perfect humans in the crowd. Sometimes he would
coo up to these women and the men, offering them free alcohol.
One hot summer night Jesse bought a white chiffon deco styled flapper dress with rhinestone
studs complete with white Cuban heels, convinced that this was the new fashion among human
women and I had to look my best. Fully dressed, I gazed in the mirror, mesmerized about how
human I now looked. I thanked him with a kiss on the cheek. He handed me a small compact mirror
and some makeup and I dabbed away my facial scar. I always wore my mother’s amulet but this time
he begged me to leave it at home.
Again, we had our own private booth near the back and we watched these humans dance,
spinning each other around to the music. I enjoyed the sounds of horns blasting my ears along with
the smell of blood in the air. We paid close attention to the human actions. When they clapped, we
clapped. When they cheered, we cheered.
“That dress looks beautiful on you,” Jesse said to me.
I smiled at him. “Not in a million years did I think I would find myself enjoying this environment
and wearing the latest fashions.”
“Neither did I but here we are,” he said to me, smiling back. “I’m curious. What did you see
yourself doing?”

“I couldn’t see myself living past the new century,” I replied. “I thought I’d die from tuberculosis
in London.”
His smile withered. “Why would you think that?”
I faced him. “My mother was a prostitute and I followed in her footsteps. Women have short life
spans in that type of lifestyle.”
“So is that how you got that?” Slowly he raised his hand and he placed it against the left side of
my face.
I looked away. I never mentioned my scar to him and he never asked me, until now. “Vampires.”
He dropped his hand. “Vampires?”
“It’s not important.” I didn’t have enough fingers on both hands to count how many people had
hurt me in both my human and Deamhan life. I didn’t want him to know about the vampires and
why I was important to them. I quickly changed the subject. “I’ve never asked you this but why did
you start boxing?” I realized that I didn’t know anything about Jesse’s human life, his parents, his
siblings if any. Again, I never bothered to ask. “You don’t seem like the type who would participate
in something like that.”
“My father was—” He stopped himself. “My father is an English teacher and my mother stays at
home, drinking afternoon tea with other bored and sad married women.”
“Your father is a smart man, then?” My eyes lit up.
“Yes, he is. On the other hand my mother, well, she just likes to gossip and buy expensive
things.”
“Did you not enjoy your family life?” I asked.
“I was bored,” he replied. “I wanted to do more with my life.” His eyes left my view for a
moment. “My family is very wealthy, Maris. My mother inherited her parents’ fortune. I was raised
around servants in a home big enough to fit 100 people. It was lonely. I was lonely.”
I wanted to feel sorry for him but I didn’t experience the life he had before being a Deamhan.
“So hitting other men with your fists sounded more exciting?”
“That was my only escape.”
“You could’ve just purchased your way out of Chicago.”
“Yes, but what good would that have done?” A solemn expression appeared on his face. “Money
doesn’t always make you happy, Maris.”
“It made Finley and me happy,” I replied.
“Yes, that’s true, but it won’t last forever and you and I know that we have forever.”
“So, what makes you happy?” It was the same question Ruby asked me a long time ago.
“You.” He grabbed my hand. “You make me happy.”
I stared into his eyes. “Blood doesn’t make you happy?”
“Blood fills my hunger but no, it doesn’t make me happy. I can feed and not be happy.” He
laughed. “What makes you happy?”
I wanted to tell him that he and Finley filled that desire. Swiftly, he planted his lips over mine and
I felt a hot flash tingle in my throat. In quick speed I pushed him away.
“What are you doing?”
With his elbows supporting his upper body, he looked up at me and smiled. “What do you mean?
I was kissing you.”
“I know but… why?”
“Kissing you would make me happy.” He quickly grabbed the edge of my dress and pulled us
further down into our booth. This time I didn’t push him away as he kissed me again. With his teeth
exposed he nicked my neck and I responded by placing my hand around his throat, tilting his head
to the side, and biting into his neck. I questioned my actions but I didn’t want to stop. We couldn’t
feed from each other but the idea of doing so proved enough to make me want to try. I wanted his