NEW RELEASE and UPCOMING EPILOGUE

Book Title: Hilarina and the Ogre (and an extended epilogue, The Ogre Comes Home)

Author and Publisher: October Arden

Cover Artist: Dhananjaya

Release Dates: September 15, 2026 (The Ogre Comes Home: October 13)

Tense/POV: Close third, past tense, alternating POV

Genres: MM Contemporary Romance with dark elements

For Hilarina and the Ogre: Friends to lovers, found family, ace/demi spectrum romance, protector hero, first love, bullying, size difference, hurt/comfort, dark themes with a hopeful core.

For The Ogre Comes Home: Reunion romance, hurt/comfort, amnesia, recovery from trauma, meeting the parents (again), marriage proposal, domestic intimacy

Heat Rating: 2 flames

Length: 81 000 words (17 000 words for the epilogue)

It is a main story, plus an epilogue with no cliffhanger.

Goodreads

Hilarina and the Ogre | The Ogre Comes Home

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Hilarina and the Ogre | The Ogre Comes Home

A ballerina, an ogre, and a love that refuses to stay forgotten.

Blurb

Hilary Davis knows how to disappear.
After years of being mocked as “Hilarina Ballerina,” he’s perfected the act. He has a popular girlfriend he can’t stand, friends he doesn’t trust, and a strict rule never to dance where anyone can see. It’s a brittle kind of safety, but it’s all he has.
Then he meets Trenton Wells.
Massive, solemn, and the school’s most devoted outcast, Trenton doesn’t play by anyone’s rules. He reads through every class, speaks with unnerving calm, and sees straight through every mask Hilary wears including the ones Hilary himself doesn’t know he’s wearing.
What starts as a simple trade (calculus tutoring for ballet lessons) becomes something neither of them can walk away from. Choosing Trenton means losing every shield Hilary built to survive. But as the town’s cruelty sharpens from slurs to violence, Trenton is willing to become any kind of monster to keep Hilary safe, and Hilary will tear his own world apart to stay at his ogre’s side.
What they don’t know yet is that some devotions outlast memory itself and some damage can only be undone by the people brave enough to keep choosing each other.

Spanning youth and adult trauma, Hilarina and the Ogre is a dark, fiercely tender queer romance exploring the scars of first love, the fragile hope of second chances, and the unyielding weight of an absolute love.

The Epilogue

Trenton Wells remembers everything now.
The family that loves him. The years of forgetting. And the man who followed him across state lines, through seven separate lifetimes, without once giving up (even when it nearly destroyed him.)
So coming home should be the easy part, but Trenton can’t stop tallying the cost. The fifteen years of life Hilary spent chasing him. A body that still flinches at the wrong touch. And an arm that aches when it rains, a permanent reminder of the night that shattered them both.
Hilary doesn’t want his guilt, he wants his ogre whole, present, and done apologizing for the things that were never his fault.
The Ogre Comes Home is the story about what happens after the rescue, and the fumbling, fierce, and sometimes ridiculous work of re-building a life with the only person who matters.

Excerpt

The next day was worse. They were smart enough to take their bags with them when they went to lunch, but when they returned to the classroom, there was semen on their desks and smeared into their textbooks. Hilary probably would have recognized it for what it was regardless, but the empty condom wrappers helped. It brought the fear back, and not lightly. He couldn t afford to replace his textbooks.

When he went to Varda, he struggled to keep his voice even. Knock it off.

She turned those pretty eyes up at him. Knock what off?

Do you know how expensive textbooks are?

I can think of one way for you to get money.

He might have taken her up on it. It wasn t just his own books that had been ruined, after all. But Trenton took him by the wrist and dragged him away. Don t talk to her.

She s responsible for this. If I accept her offer

And for the rest of the year have her around while I m with you? Don t. I ll buy the books.

Hilary had to ask. And it wasn t because of the condoms or the spray paint. Do you But he had no idea how to make the words come out. How did you form words like that? And say them out loud?

But Trenton knew what he was asking. So to be in your life I have to want to fuck you? Is that it?

The boy didn t shout the words. His voice was even as always. But he was angry, and it frightened a weenie like Hilary to hear it. Even knowing the anger wasn t directed his way, and that Trenton was the only person in school who cared about him, it was frightening. It s just that you re nice. You re too nice to me. And the things you say. No one else says things like that.

Yes, they do.

In books, but not

I m not going to be an asshole just to fit your notion of friendship. I finally found you. You don t know how long I ve been waiting to find you.

That was just more evidence against the boy. Trenton could have grabbed him by the face and shoved his tongue down his throat, and it wouldn t have been more shocking to Hilary than those words were. But Trenton still wasn t done.

People like me we don t get chosen. We live our quiet lives just trying not to take up space, hoping to get through each day so we can disappear into a book by the end of it. But you chose me. When you came to talk to me, and when you asked for help with the math. You didn t mean for it to become anything. But what else could I do? I had to try. With you because it was you I had no choice but to try.

Hilary s eyes were prickling. It was the words, yes. Words he d never heard in his life. But also the tone. Trenton was still calm, or trying to be, but it was like he d spent the whole morning reading aloud; his voice was hoarse with it.

Hilary was forced to look down, unable to meet that earnest expression head-on. I m ordinary. I m so ordinary, Trent. I m not even smart, why would you

Trenton hugged him, though it was more accurate to say he grabbed him, those arms like a vise. I wanted this, the boy said, meaning the embrace, I wanted to do this since the night of the party.

That was impossible to believe. While we were sorting through the garbage?

When you offered the trade. To teach me while I taught you.

So even earlier, then.

But that was selfish, Hilary objected. I needed you more than you needed me.

I ll always need you. Trenton s face was in his shoulder, a little muffled, but not enough to obscure the words.

It left Hilary helpless, his hands raised, hovering there at the boy s back. This isn t normal. What you re saying whatever s happening

And you want to be normal, do you? Because you were enjoying it so much. Your girlfriend and your fake friends.

It came again that urge to hit Trenton. No, not hit him. Hilary wasn t sure what it was, but it made his hands clench, and finally, finally, he was able to grab hold, his fingers crushing Trenton s shirt in his hands. I m not worth it. You re going to see. You re going to be so embarrassed when you wake up and realize.

Then let me be embarrassed, Trenton said. I promise you ll be waiting longer than I will.

About the Author

October Arden writes emotionally raw queer stories that live somewhere between literary fiction and romance. Their work explores fluid identities, found families, co-dependent devotion, and complicated love often through the lens of characters who are chronically ill, neurodivergent, or quietly self-destructive. These are stories for anyone who’s ever felt unwanted or unseen, where even the most damaged hearts can find a home.

October loves hearing from readers, so feel free to reach out, ask questions, or suggest what you’d like to see next. You can also join the newsletter to stay in touch and as a thank you, you’ll receive a free copy of Starting with Cake, a quietly unhinged neurodivergent love story full of snack cakes, janitor uniforms, and the kind of care that sneaks up on you. Find out about new books and other extras at octoberarden.com

Author Links

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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.

Goodreads

Buy Links – Available in Kindle Unlimited

Amazon US  |  Amazon UK  

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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