RELEASE BLITZ: “Dark Justice” by Janice Jarrell
RELEASE BLITZ
Book Title: Dark Justice
Author, Publisher, and Cover Artist: Janice Jarrell
Release Date: March 17, 2026
Pairing: MM
Tense/POV: Third Person
Genres: Contemporary dark/suspenseful gay romance
Tropes: Married Couple, Hurt/Comfort, Protector/Protected, Found Family, Trauma Recovery, Healing Journey
Length: 84 791 words/ 283 pages
Heat Rating: 3 flames:
It is the first book of a new series, The Unbreakable Vow.
It can be read as a standalone and does not end on a cliffhanger.
Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited
The world may be burning–but here, in this moment, there is grace.
Blurb
Joshua believes love can bring Colin home. And even from across an ocean, Colin hears it calling.
Colin Campbell–Abrams went to Ireland carrying a weight his pack could never hold. Grief he couldn’t name. Guilt he couldn’t shake. A marriage he loved too much to destroy with the pieces of himself that remained.
Ireland didn’t heal him; it offered him the grace that allowed him to heal himself.
In green hills and strangers’ kindness. In ancient stones that remembered centuries of pain. In thirty seconds of unexpected sunlight breaking through gray skies. In the slow, stubborn work of putting one foot in front of the other until the man he used to be began to walk by his side.
The road taught him something Joshua had been trying to tell him from the very beginning: You don’t have to be unbreakable to be worthy of love.
Some journeys you walk alone—not to leave, but to learn how to come home.
Note: This book contains depictions of violence, injury, and the on-page death of a character.
Excerpt
The taxi rumbled up the narrow gravel lane, tires crunching over stones still wet from morning rain. Colin sat in the backseat, his head resting against the cool glass of the window. Trees arched overhead—familiar, ancient. A canopy of green that whispered welcome in a language older than sorrow.
The driver pulled to a stop in front of a large yellow house at the edge of town. Smoke curled from the chimney. A lace curtain fluttered in the front window. She was waiting for him.
Aunt Aileen stood on the porch, wrapped in her thick wool shawl, hands folded in front of her like she’d been standing there for years—like she’d always be standing there.
Colin stepped out of the cab. Shouldered his bag. Their eyes met. She didn’t speak. Neither did he. She just came down the steps and wrapped him in her arms. He sank into the hug like a man who’d been treading water too long. Let his head drop to her shoulder. Let the tears come—silent, steady, unstoppable.
“There now,” she murmured, stroking his back. “There now, mo chroí. You’ve come home to us, so you have.”
Inside, the fire was already lit—the kettle already whistling. His room was made up just as he’d left it. Just as it had been all those years ago—when he’d come here broken and grieving after Kathy.
Nothing had changed. Nothing except him.
That night, he sat by the hearth while Aileen knitted in her chair across from him. No questions. No conversation. Just the soft crackle of the fire and the rhythm of needles clicking in her lap.
He hadn’t known how badly he needed the quiet until it wrapped around him like a balm.
Tomorrow, he’d walk the park trails again. Visit Ross Castle. Breathe the green back into his lungs. But tonight? Tonight, he was simply home.
Morning light slanted through the kitchen window, warming the scrubbed wood table. Aileen moved easily around the stove, the clink of porcelain and the hiss of steam familiar, comforting. She placed a pot of tea between them, then poured it into two mismatched mugs—just like she had when he was a boy.
Colin sat, hands folded around the mug. He hadn’t spoken much since arriving. She hadn’t pressed him.
That was her gift—presence without pressure.
“Sleep all right?” she asked gently, settling across from him.
He nodded. “Some.”
Aileen studied him over the rim of her cup. “You’ve lost weight.”
“I’ve lost a lot of things,” he murmured.
The silence between them stretched—not uncomfortable, but thick with memory. Colin looked out the window, eyes distant. “I keep thinking how much he loves it here,” he said finally. “The light. The quiet. The way the wind sounds different in the trees.”
Aileen waited.
“God, Ahn-tee, I want him with me,” Colin whispered, his voice choked. “Not for me. For him. Because this place… it heals things. And he’s hurting too.”
She reached across the table and covered his hand with hers. “You carry him,” she said. “He may not be sitting in that chair, but he’s here, mo mhac. In your blood. In your bones. In your heart. In every step you take toward yourself.”
His throat tightened.
“I don’t know how to come back to him,” he said. “I don’t even know if I can.” He looked into her eyes, his own welling with tears. “And that terrifies me.”
Aileen gave his hand a squeeze. “And sure, didn’t you come back here all the same?”
He nodded.
“Then that’s your start, mo mhac. This land knows you well—it hasn’t forgotten. And it’ll help you remember yourself, so it will.”
Colin looked down at the tea. It smelled of bergamot and comfort and just… home. The ache in his chest didn’t fade—but it softened a little. He thought of Joshua’s hands. His voice. The way he would murmur ‘mo ghrá milis‘ when no one else could hear, and a warmth stirred beneath the sorrow, born from the memory of that gentle voice and the life waiting for him across an ocean.
About the Author
My name is Janice Jarrell. I’m a retired IT tech and grandmother living in Port Angeles, Washington, near the Olympic National Forest. I have two children, three grandsons, and I’ve been writing gay romance since I was twelve years old—only back then it wasn’t called “gay romance.” In the fifties, it was worth your life to admit to being gay, let alone confess to being a girl who constantly fantasized about relationships between men. I didn’t even know what a homosexual was. I just knew I loved the idea of boy-on-boy romance. I was that kid on a farm in a tiny Michigan village, watching Tom Corbett and his Space Cadets and all those guys on Combat and thinking: there’s something going on here.
I wrote slash fanfiction for about 30 years and produced over 300 stories—some a hundred-word drabble, some sprawling novel-length series. The feedback I received from readers, and the community that formed around those stories, became the creative home I’d been searching for my entire life. I still bless the internet for leading me to that artistic oasis.
Love’s Magic was my first step into creating my own original characters, and from it grew the interconnected worlds of my Revolutionary Heart and Fearless Heart series, featuring Colin, Joshua, David, Nate, Trent, Jeff, and the rest of the gang. Those books—along with collections like Trial Runs, Glory Days, Relevant Justice, Heart’s Treasure, and Rainbows Still Glow—follow these men through love stories that are messy, hard-won, and always, always worth it. I’ve also written stand-alone tales like Under the Midnight Sky and Beyond the Rainbow: Stories from Camp Pride, and I’m currently working on Dark Justice, the first book in my Unbreakable Vow series.
Many of my novels and short-story collections are available as audiobooks on Audible and other retailers, bringing my characters to life in a whole new way for listeners who love to experience stories on the go.
It’s been an amazing thing to watch the gay community’s growth over these past decades. In many ways my own journey has echoed theirs, and I’m deeply grateful to the activists who fought to win the rights and recognition the LGBTQ+ community has always deserved. I’m equally grateful to the gay romance community—readers, authors, publishers, and promoters—who are making my retirement years the most creative of my life.
When I’m not writing, I’m traveling, walking, knitting, crocheting, and generally plotting more trouble for my characters. And for the record: no matter what I put them through, I am a firm believer in HEA.
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