Phoebe Walker, Author

@phoebewalker.bsky.social

307 Followers 120 Following

Dynamic duo; author of urban fantasy, paranormal romance, and zombie-apocalypse romance. HEAs always! MIRROR WITCH and DEAD WEIGHT out now! https://www.phoebewalkerwrites.com

I don’t know how long I stayed there, sobbing in Hecate’s embrace, before the emotions began to drain away, even the anger I thought had sustained me for so long. “I wish I had killed him,” I told Her through the last of my tears.
Frankie shook her head. “I have to go. Morrigan was very clear.” His mouth tightened. “Seems like you’d be more use to your goddess alive.” Even in this slimy arsehole of a world, full of death and fear, Liam hated nothing and no one so much as Morrigan and the hold She had on Francine Richardson Abbott. “I doubt She means for me to die.” Frankie shrugged, turning away from him. “She just… demands that I make the trip.” “Right.” Was she tired or sad? Both? Damn it, he couldn’t read her when she wouldn’t look at him. He needed to see her eyes. Look at me. Look at me again. She didn’t, of course, so he crossed his arms and sighed. “When are we leaving, then?”
Alex frowned, their turbulent gunmetal-dark eyes boring into mine, pulling me in. Gods damn it, why did this happen every time we were in the same room? Drawn together like magnets until one of us flipped and pushed the other away.
Since her time in the hospital, everything between them felt different. Uncomfortable. Strained. Weirdly anticipatory in a way Frankie didn’t understand. Liam had closed himself off from her but was never far away, even if every interaction seemed to pain him. The slant of his black brows over those dazzling pale-blue eyes, the creases between them, told her that hadn’t changed. Something like grief rose into the back of her throat. “I know things are bad right now. But if you’re not okay, you can tell me,” Frankie said, her voice almost a whisper. “You can tell me anything.”
Experiencing the world as a wolf after too many days as a human often felt like a relief. Since settling in St. Louis—since Jo—his daily life had necessitated being in human form, navigating the human world. And of course it did. His mate was human, his business was security and construction. Paws and jaws weren’t conducive to paperwork or talking. But oh, the relief of having these vivid avenues of information opening again, blooming fresh for his nose, eyes, and ears. His senses stayed enhanced in human form, but his wolf’s night vision and hearing were cranked to eleven. Even so, smell still ranked as the all-time sensory champ, turning his world into a kaleidoscopic bouquet of experience. Wolf Booker had learned focus, to traverse the chaos of scents, to pluck one from the multitudes and hold it, to glean details from its intensity and variations. He’d missed this world and its nuance, and he sank into it now.
Four illustrated panels: 1. A gingerbread man sits inside a gingerbread house; 2. Is the house made of flesh?; 3. Or is he made of house?; 4. He screams, for he does not know
A picture of the MIRROR WITCH cover with the tagline "Jo Murphy spent eight years on the run because of werewolves--but now, allying with them may be the only way to keep her alive."
A screenshot of a comment on Dead Weight: Comments 14 *user name obscured* murder hobo!
FridayKiss from Torch and Key: I focused on the ember inside me, that brilliant red-orange place where it lived, and brought my fire out into the air, let it dance in one corner of the building, focusing on the meager contents of the warehouse. The heat from it would help dry the aged, warped wood of the walls. The wolves watched, eyes bright. Fascinated.
A comment from the YONDER app on our book, DEAD WEIGHT (Love in the Time of Zombies #1): Loveeeee. I was able to get the first 21 chapters today and can’t wait for more to load. This is the PERFECT level of adventure, stress and *spice*. I’ve been looking for a story like this for so long!
A #FridayKiss from Triple Crossroads, Book 2 of the Daughters of Hecate series: While the coffee brewed, I ate a slice of peanut-butter toast while standing at the counter. After filling my mug, I sent a wave of gratitude to the gods of coffee then grabbed my water bottle and stepped through the mirror, heading up to the roof for a morning visit with Stanley.
From Daughters of Hecate Book 2: The expression on Lea’s unearthly face turned sharp. “You take and take from this witch, yet you ask us this question? Greedy wolf.” The other hags glared at Booker. “Wait, what? No.” I stepped forward on a surge of anger. “I’m helping the wolves, and they help me.” But when I glanced at Booker for support, his head was bowed. Kate put a gentle hand on my shoulder, pulling me to face her. “How many geases do you currently hold, Jo? Twenty? Thirty?” Her pale-gray eyes inspected mine, and my heart snagged along with my breath as I took her meaning. The real number was more like two hundred.
A green background with the cover of MIRROR WITCH in the center and a list of story elements all around: Alpha werewolf who loves to hug, only one magical fortress, forced proximity, practical magic, slow burn, he renovates her building, healing from past trauma, she was his one last job, oh my Goddess, reluctant allies to friends to lovers, etc.
They drove away from that overgrown valley of death and decay as Cameron panted and cursed under his laboring breath and Allie tried not to look at him but keep her eyes on the road. Still, she couldn’t keep from glancing at the rearview mirror. From craning around to look back, through her wildly whipping hair, out the open window of the truck. The shapes behind them were packed so tightly together that she almost couldn’t tell that the horizon was moving. But she knew it was. And even though it was impossible—totally fucking impossible—she could hear the groans and growls of the zombie horde inside her ears.
Cam lifted Allie then, ignoring her squeak of surprise, and took her to the desk along the opposite wall. He settled her, naked and breathless, on the edge and took advantage of the opportunity to rub his erection against her, giving her a taste of the friction she craved while the smooth, polished wood of the desktop warmed beneath her bare skin. Then he stopped, stepped back to admire her. “You’re beautiful, angel. I don’t say it enough.”
A book cover featuring a woman with long hair and a rifle and a short-haired man with a handgun and knife from the back. Both wear flannel shirts and jeans. They are facing a horde of zombies coming toward them with the setting sun in the background painting everything in glow and shades of yellow. The words "Love in the Time of Zombies" are in smaller type at the top, with the words "Dead Weight" in much larger font just below, above the horizon.
Cam and Allie lay there, listening to the rest of the group packing up to go, knowing they’d need to join them soon. But not yet, Cam thought, savoring the feel, the sweetness, of Allie’s warmth. Not yet.
Cam unzipped Allie’s jeans, his hand finding the soft skin of her stomach, then sliding down until he found the heart of her, so warm and already turning slick with want. “Angel,” he breathed, moving his fingers against her, making her hips churn. “Cam, I need…” Her voice broke. He couldn’t resist the darkly passionate urge to torment her just a little, to tease her pleasure to a fever pitch. “Tell me what you need.” Her breath feathered over his lips. “I need to come.” She kissed him then, her tongue demanding, insistent, on his. Oh, yes. “You will,” he promised, using two fingers to worry her clit. “You will.”
A meme in which a white woman makes a disgusted face next to a caption reading "developing the actual plot" on the top half, while in the bottom half, the same woman makes a considering face next to a caption reading "making up random lore instead"
“Come on,” I said. “Let’s go up to the roof.” Booker nodded. “Sure.” When I didn’t start toward the door, he looked at the mirror. “Through there?” The stunned disbelief in his tone made me smile—a real smile—for the first time in days. “You afraid?” He tilted his head one way, then the other, his mouth scrunching, before he looked at me again. “Little bit?” When I laughed, I was rewarded by the reappearance of his dimples. Once again, he made my heart lose balance for a moment. “Fine, then, scaredy-wolf.” I rolled my eyes. “We’ll take the stairs.”
“I can sleep anywhere.” Cam braced himself between Allie and the wall. “That little loveseat in the main room. An open space on the floor.” “No,” she said. “No way. You can sleep in my bed.” “I can’t do that.” “You don’t have much choice. You’re about to fall over.” Cam frowned. His voice rang out stronger, exasperated, when he said, “I’m not going to take your bed, Allison.” She rolled her eyes. “Well, I’m not going to let you sleep anywhere else, Cameron.” This time, they both laughed, rather pathetically, and they swayed on their feet in the hallway. He groaned. “God, I’m tired.” #FridayKiss from our upcoming book DEAD WEIGHT!
MIRROR WITCH by Phoebe Walker, available now in Kindle Unlimited! Jo Murphy spent eight years on the run because of werewolves--but now, allying with them may be the only way to keep her alive. From a 5⭐ review: Excellent writing, fascinating world building, engrossing story arc and absolutely wonderful characters. Complex and intelligent. Who could ask for anything more?!?
His angel had just rocked his entire world, and now she was breaking his goddamn heart. He didn’t try to stop the deluge of tears and emotion. Instead, Cam held Allie close, willing the warmth of his skin to seep into hers, hoping she knew how much it meant that she had trusted him, invited him in. He kept a steady stream of low words going, using their gentle rhythm and his embrace, hoping it was enough.