Meet Jack and Darci From A SEAL’s Song by Jennifer Lowery + a #FREE book! #romance #books


Download for FREE May 23-25!!!-2

Hi N. N. Light’s POTL Blog and all you fabulous readers out there * waves * Thank you so much for having me today! I’m super excited to be here! I have a couple giveaways and a free book to offer you so read on to find out how to take advantage of fun, free books!

 

Ever since I picked up my first Suzanne Brockmann Navy SEAL book I’ve been in love with these tough, incredibly intelligent men. I knew I had to write my own series with my own SEAL team. A SEAL’s Song is the first book in my SEAL Team Alpha series and what an incredible journey it was for both me and my characters! Today, I’m bringing you a special interview with the hero and heroine from A SEAL’s Song. I hope you enjoy meeting Jack and Darci as much as I enjoyed writing them. 

 

P.S. A SEAL’s Song is FREE on Amazon May 23-25 so be sure to grab your free copy HERE!

 

Did you ever think that your life would end up being in a book?

Jack: Hell, no.

Darci: No, but it’s flattering.

 

What are your favorite scenes in your book: the action, the dialog or the romance?

Darci: * smiles * The romance. I already know what Jack is going to say.

Jack: * grins * Sorry, hun. The action. And the sex.

* Darci rolls her eyes *

 

What do you like to do when you are not being actively read somewhere?

Jack: Take my sailboat out deep-sea fishing.

Darci: I’m not much for fishing, that’s Jack’s thing. I’m usually in my studio writing and composing songs. But, when he gets home… * she smiles at Jack who grins back *

 

Do you like the way the book ended?

Jack and Darci in unison: Yes.

 

Would you be interested in a sequel, if your writer was so inclined?

Jack: Not if it means putting Darci in more danger.

Darci: Agreed. Although, with Jack at my side, I wouldn’t be as afraid of what Jennifer threw at us. * leans in and whispers * She likes to torment us.

 

What do you do for a living?

Darci: * laces her fingers through Jacks * Jack is a Navy SEAL and the bravest, strongest man I know. I’m a singer.

 

What is your most prized possession?

Darci: A Celtic necklace given to me by my grandmother. Had it not been for that necklace, I never would have met Jack.

 

What do you like most about where you live?

Jack: Darci approved of my house. That’s all that matters to me.

Darci: He lives in this cute gingerbread house on the ocean. I adore it.

 

What’s your favorite thing to do on a rainy Sunday?

Jack: * grins * Stay in bed.

Darci: * nods * Definitely.

 

What is your least favorite word?

Darci: Classified.

 

What sound or noise do you love?

Jack: Sorry, that’s between me and my wife. * an intimate look passes between Jack and Darci *

 

What other profession would you like to try?

Darci: I’ve considered becoming a music teacher. Jack, he’s right where he was meant to be.

Jack: * nods *

 

 

Did you get your FREE copy of A SEAL’s Song? Yay and thank you! Want a chance to win an e-book off my backlist? (told you I like to give stuff away!) Just click on the rafflecopter link below and enter to win!! Good luck! Oh, and keep reading for a BONUS offer!

 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

 

Jennifer Lowery Author pic

Meet Jennifer:

NY Times & USA Today bestselling author, Jennifer Lowery grew up reading romance novels in the back of her math book and on the bus to school, and never wanted to be anything but a writer. Her summers were spent sitting at the kitchen table with her sisters spinning tales of romance and intrigue and always with a tall glass of ice tea at their side.

Today, Jennifer is living that dream and she couldn’t be happier to share her passion with her readers. She loves everything there is about romance. Her stories feature alpha heroes who meet their match with strong, independent heroines. She believes that happily ever after is only the beginning of her stories. And the road to that happy ending is paved with action, adventure, and romance. As her characters find out when they face danger, overcome fears, and are forced to look deep within themselves to discover love.

Jennifer lives in Michigan with her husband and two children. When she isn’t writing she enjoys reading and spending time with her family.

 

Connect with Jennifer:

Read more about her books on her website: http://jenniferloweryauthor.com/

Join her on Pinterest: https://www.pinterest.com/jenniferlowery/

And on Twitter: https://twitter.com/JLoweryauthor

Please “like” her Facebook author page! https://www.facebook.com/AuthorJenniferLowery/

Sign up for Jennifer’s Newsletter and get a FREE book: http://jenniferloweryauthor.com/join-my-newsletter/

Join Jennifer’s Street Team: http://jenniferloweryauthor.com/join-my-street-team/

 

***BONUS***

For everyone who signs up for my NEWSLETTER you will receive an e-book copy of my short story, Taking Chances ($.99 value) for FREE!

 

Thank you for having me today, N. N. Light!! I just want to send out a big THANK YOU to all my readers out there! Without you I wouldn’t be here. My wish is to one-day meet each and every one of you so I can personally thank you for your generosity and support! 

 

All my best, 

Jennifer

Meet Elias (sexy #vampire) from @KryssieFortune’s New #Paranormal #EroticRomance! #romance


KF_Claimed by the Vampire

 

Have you ever wondered what a vampire thinks and feels? Today’s it’s my great pleasure to introduce you to Elias from the newly released erotic romance, Claimed by the Vampire, Seduced by the Werewolf. He’s, well, I’ll let him introduce himself. Take it away, Elias:

 

I’m a soldier of Sparta. Once I thought that was everything. It didn’t matter that my father was the Macedonian king, although I hated him for throwing me, Elias—heir to the Macedonian throne—away like I was nothing.

 

“A hostage to the fragile peace,” he called it

 

I grew up in the Spartan agoge, aka the cruelest boy training academy ever. I leaned about hunger and hurting, but that made me no different to any other Spartan warrior in training. After all that, King Leonidas refused to let me fight at Thermopylae. My new wife, a woman I loathed on sight, said it shamed her and slit my throat while I slept.

 

That’s when the real torture started. Powerful forces pulled my soul into the Etruscan Hell Zone, and for seven centuries, the Tuchulcha demons taught me what pain really was. Spartan’s don’t scream. Ever. In life, I was stoic, stronger than any of my contemporaries. In death, I learned to scream. The only way to survive was to turn vampire. Then Tempest, my curvy red-haired angel, pulled me back into the real world.

 

What is your idea of perfect happiness?

A full belly, a blanket for warmth, and Tempest in my bed.

 

What is your greatest extravagance?

I don’t need much. Growing up as a Spartan warrior told me that. I love my 1,000cc motorbike and my sports car. As a Spartan, we marched everywhere. Twenty-first century transport is amazing, but I’d give up everything to keep Tempest safe.

 

What is your current state of mind?

Edgy. Angry. Deadly, maybe. I need to claim Tempest and bind her to me forever, but she’s not ready. For a vampire, finding his bride is everything, but for all she’s a witch—albeit a weak one—and she doesn’t believe in love at first sight. Worse, one of my younger brothers has somehow turned werewolf. He scented Tempest and claimed she was his mate. I’d drain every drop of blood from his body, but he came to our aid when we fought Tuchulcha demons in your world. Tempest thinks we owe him. Seth, my half-brother, grew up with everything, fine food, good clothes, and a family who loved him. I had nothing and no one. Now I have Tempest, he wants to take her from me too. Just once, I want something good to happen for me. Honestly, Tempest is my addiction, my heart and my world. I can’t live without her.

 

What is your most treasured possession?

My bride. The one woman who completes my soul and makes my heart beat. That’s Tempest, of course.

 

What do you regard as the lowest depth of misery?

I spent seven centuries in the Etruscan hell, and you at ask me that? I endured cold so intense it froze the flesh from my bones. Even with my vampire healing I have scars around my wrists where the demons wrapped leather thongs around them and suspended me from the ceiling. They enjoyed poking my wounds with hot pokers and they whipped the flesh from my bones. The only thing worse than them recapturing me would be if I lost Tempest. I’d endure anything to protect her.

 

What is your favorite occupation?

Kissing Tempest. Stroking her body until she whimpers with desire. Did I say she has the world’s most spankable ass? Afterward, she comes apart as I love her long and hard. I never imagined a woman like her, let alone that I’d find my eternal bride, but making Tempest smile motivates my every action and thought.

 

What is your most marked characteristic?

I grew up wearing rags. The Spartans kept the boys in the agoge hungry and cold. By law, the elders gave us one cloak a year and nothing else. We stole clothes from washing lines and ate rotten food from the midden, or slipped into homes and pilfered some warrior’s meal. The penalties if we were caught were sometimes fatal. After that, all adult Spartans like to look good. Remember the stories about the warriors at Thermopylae washing and combing each other’s hair before battle. Despite expecting to die the next day, they wanted to look their best as they met their fate.

 

I’m the same. I keep my hair short and well-tended. Twenty-first century clothes are wonderful. I’m the guy in a suit when others wearing ripped jeans and muscles shirts. Of course, Tempest prefers me bare chested so she can run her fingers over my eight pack or lick my chest. I’m good with that too, but looking smart matters to me.

 

Who are your favorite writers?

I’ve so much catching up to do. Having spent seven centuries locked in the Etruscan Hell, I know little about twenty-first century life. I read nonfiction. Mostly history books, and thankfully, I’m a quick learner.

 

Who are your heroes in real life?

This is hard. I was born before most of them. The Macedonian line gave the world Alexander the Great. He’s the descendant of one of my half-brothers. I’ve not met most of them, and I have eight. I forget which one took the throne after my death. Like me all my family, myself included, Alexander had mismatched eyes.

 

Alexander’s battle tactics are still studied by the military today. He never did the things his enemies expected. Instead, he homed in on their weaknesses and decimated them.  He even solved the riddle of the Gordian knot. With his warrior’s body and striking looks women were all over him. Despite that, his greatest weapon was his mind.

 

What are your favorite names?

Tempest, of course.

 

What is it that you most dislike?

Werewolves who come after my woman.

 

How would you like to die?

I’ve done that already. I’d like to avoid doing it again. Being a vampire makes me immortal, but without Tempest I can’t eat, can’t sleep, can’t drink. My body will fail and I will die of a broken heart. And do you know what? I wouldn’t care. Life without my bride is unthinkable.

 

Title: Claimed by the Vampire, Seduced by the Werewolf

Author:  Kryssie Fortune

Genre: Paranormal, erotic romance / Urban Fantasy

Publisher: Loose id

Book Cover: Designed by Dar Albert

 

Book Blurb:  

After seven centuries, Elias, a former Spartan turned vampire, finds his eternal bride.
Seth, Elias’s werewolf half-brother, scents his mate.

 
Vampire and werewolf loathe each other. The only thing they agree on is that Tempest is their mate–and they’re not sharing.

 
A prophecy will force Tempest, a twenty-first-century witch, to choose between them. As the half-brothers vie to win her heart, they teach her about spanking, the way pain heightens pleasure, and the joy of multiple orgasms.

 
A vampire can’t survive without his fated bride. A werewolf dies if he loses his mate. Their future rests in Tempest’s hands. Which one will she choose?
 

 

Excerpt:

Even when Tempest threw all the fabled eye-of-newt stuff into a caldron, it only burned and stuck to the sides. She’d no stored magic or super-strength spells to aid Elias. Trembling, she took two steps back. When she finally found her voice, she screamed and looked around for a weapon. Her grandmother—the Superwitch—would have zapped those demon things with a spell to turn them inside out by now.

 

Tempest grabbed a fallen branch and yelled like a banshee, ready to charge the demons. Their high-pitched jabber grew louder. More dark shapes dropped to the ground behind Elias. No matter how many demons Elias ripped apart, their numbers kept growing. The way they waved their legs and homed in on their prey horrified her. She froze when four scuttled into the trees and swung around Elias, heading toward her. The way they waved their too-thin limbs as they moved over the ground or dangled from webs they’d spun around the overhanging leafy branches sparked a primeval terror in Tempest’s soul. She wished she’d run rather than summoned her useless magic. Although she swung her stick like a madwoman, fear pulsed in her soul. The closer the demons came, the harder she found it to breathe.

 

A beast charged from the shadows, all fur, fangs, and fury. Over eight-feet tall, it towered over the spider demons. The overhanging tree branches brushed the golden hairs on its ears. Its growl sounded like thunder, and when it extended its claws, the beast looked like it belonged in a slasher movie. Bizarrely, it carried a sword.

 

The beast’s shaggy blond fur and contorted features chilled Tempest’s blood. He looked like a giant wolf, albeit one with supersized fangs and claws. Goddess, is that a werewolf? Whatever its origins, the beast roared a challenge at the demons. The sound echoed down the deserted footpath and set the demons chittering again. When the beast moved toward her, she took a faltering step back, but she lifted her makeshift weapon. She wasn’t going down without a fight, but if it came after her, she wouldn’t last a minute.

 

It leaped between her and Tuchulcha demons, its huge head swinging left and right as if deciding whether to snatch her in its claws or fight off her attackers. Finally, sword in hand, it turned toward the Tuchulcha. Another growl—deep and rough—rumbled from its throat. “Nothing touches what’s mine.”

 

The beast’s rough, raspy voice made Tempest think of unrefined whisky and sex. Her toes curled in delight. Better still, the beast sounded as though he was on her side. She pointed toward Elias and begged, “Help him. Please.”

 

The beast’s roar drowned out the sounds of Elias’s battle. It stared at Tempest for a full five seconds. Finally, he bowed his head toward her and tossed the sword to Elias. “Spartan, catch.”

 

Buy Links:

Amazon US http://amzn.to/2pLmmK4

 

Amazon CA https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B0727XFPH8

 

Amazon UK http://amzn.to/2pd1Hvt

 

Kobo http://bit.ly/2qBMdl5

 

Barnes and Noble http://bit.ly/2q36rI5

 

Publisher http://www.loose-id.com/claimed-by-the-vampire-seduced-by-the-werewolf.html

 

Kryssie Fortune

 

Author Biography:

Kryssie Fortune writes the sort of hot sexy books she loves to read. If she can sneak a dragon into her paranormal books she will. Her paranormal heroes are muscular werewolves, arrogant Fae or BDSM loving dragons.
Kryssie likes her contemporary heroes ex-military and dominant. Her heroines are kick ass females who can hold their own against whatever life – or Kryssie – throws at them.

Kryssie’s pet hates are unhappy endings, and a series that end on a cliff hanger.
Her books are all stand-alone even when part of series. Plot always comes before sex, but when her heroines and heroes get together, the sex is explosive and explicit. One review called it downright sensual.

 

Social Media Links:

Facebook

Twitter

Website

A Man With a Pure Heart by Linda Tillis @Linda34434 Spotlight #historicalromance #TWRP


AManWithaPureHeart_w11269_750

 

Title: A Man With A Pure Heart

Author: Linda Tillis

Genre: Historical Romance/Inspirational

Publisher: The Wild Rose Press

 

Book Blurb:

“Samuel Hinton learned at the tender age of fifteen just how violent some men could be. But now, in 1910, as he investigates the murder of a schoolteacher, even he is shocked by the brutality.

 

Kathleen Campbell travels to rural Florida to seek justice for her sister’s death. What she finds is an instant and unexpected attraction to the handsome Investigator who swears he will find the killer.

 

As another murder fills Samuel with a sense of urgency, he struggles with the depth of his feelings for Kathleen, the conflict of knowing he intends to kill the man he seeks, and how that killing will clash with his own Christian beliefs.”

 

Excerpt:

Hamish lay in the back corner of the windowless building. His head was at an odd angle, and there was a look of surprise on his tired, old face.  Samuel held the lantern high and searched the floor. It was not terribly dusty and there had been at least two people inside since the killer had left.  He was unable to distinguish any shoe or boot marks, or moccasins, for that matter. He squatted by Hamish and set the lantern on the floor. He spotted a sliver of something white under the body. Samuel gently rolled Hamish to his side and extracted a piece of crushed paper from under him. He turned it over and immediately recognized Edith’s flyer.

 

“So, old man,” Samuel whispered, “you tried to warn him.”

 

Samuel gently closed Hamish’s clouded, green eyes. He hesitated, his palm resting on the old man’s forehead.

 

He whispered, “Hamish, Hamish, you should have told me. What can you tell me now?”

 

Samuel was completely motionless, staring into the dark corner. He closed his eyes, and after a time he envisioned Nash, standing in a small clearing, his head thrown back and his mouth wide open in a scream.  There was a small building with one high window.  Nash stepped to the doorway, and Samuel could see the inside of the one room cabin. There was a bed with a broken length of chain attached.

 

Ahh. So, the big man has lost something, or someone.

 

Samuel stood, and looked down at Hamish one last time.

 

“I hope you knew the Lord, old man. I hope he is welcoming you now.”

 

 

Buy Links:

Amazon –  http://amzn.to/2qrsVzl

 

The Wild Rose Press –   http://bit.ly/2pQGbk3

 

Barnes & Noble  –         http://bit.ly/2pBBvxB

 

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 Author Biography:

Linda has been fortunate to lead a varied life. She was born in Appalachia, Goody, Kentucky to be exact. You know, coal mining country. Her mother moved her to Cleveland, Ohio when she was a small child. She had the best of both worlds. In the summer, she ran bare-foot through the mountains, drank from a cool, sweet, well…and yes, used an outhouse! But during the school year, she attended concerts and art galleries. She lost her mother to cancer when she was ten years old and moved to Florida to live with her father and his new family. She read voraciously during her high school years. In fact, at lunch on Thursdays, she would make a couple of dollars writing book reports for others.

She worked in the garment industry for eighteen years, then changed careers in 1986. Really changed careers. She went from fashion to forensics, and spent the next twenty years with the local Police Department as, yep, you guessed it, a CSI. After so many years of brutality, death and general mayhem, her wonderful husband helped her realize it was becoming detrimental to her health. So, she retired. She spent a year re-acquainting herself with the “real” world. She took up nature photography and sold a couple of articles with photos to the Florida Wildlife Magazine.

She went back to the workplace as a 911 dispatcher/calltaker, and for another seven years her Southern drawl spread over west Florida’s airwaves. During that time, her husband convinced her she should write a book. So, she did. She is now retired, and can devote her full attention to a writing career. She is a member of the Sunshine State Romance Authors, Inc. which is a local chapter of the national Romance Writers of America, where she achieved PRO status in 2015 by having a publisher request her full manuscript for consideration.

 

Social Media Links:

Website – www.lindatillisauthor.com

 

Twitter –  https://www.twitter.com/Linda34434

 

Facebook  –  https://www.facebook.com/linda.tillis.5

 

 

Secrets Best Kept by Tisha @athrhopedestiny #FridayReads #AmazonGiveaway


Secrets Best Kept

 

Title Secrets Best Kept

Author Tisha

Genre Contemporary Christian Non-Fiction

Publisher PenPoint Publications

 

Book Blurb

From prison to pristine, from jail to justice, from hell to heaven describes all the things the woman of God in this story went thru and got thru.

 

The bible says in 1 Corinthians 10:13 that “No temptation has overtaken you that is not common to man. God is faithful, and he will not let you be tempted beyond your ability, but with the temptation he will also provide the way of escape, that you may be able to endure it.”

 

God never puts more on us than we can bear.

 

God always step in on time.

 

He doesn’t come when you want Him but He right there in the nick of time.

This story is a riveting tale of triumph over trial and tribulations when you have God on your side and it confirms the fact that there is nothing too hard for God and He is bigger than any trial. He is bigger than any test.

 

Take a journey with this woman of God as she overcome her circumstances thru God who strengthens.

 

Excerpt

I was born July 17, 1957.  My mother already had four kids by the time I was born.  I can’t remember much when I was born; only from when I was 6 years old.  By then there were seven of us. I can remember that we were not wealthy but we were not poor.  My mother always had a meal on the table and we always had clean clothes.  It was three boys and four girls. We were the average family. My father, as I knew then he worked at soda factory.  I remember we always had toys on Christmas and new clothes and shoes for Easter. We were not a church going family but we were close. My younger sisters and brothers and I always found something to do in the summertime when my mother would leave for work.  We would leave the house to and go around the neighborhood and pick our cousins. We would go and pick blueberries, pears, cherries and plums.

We had to get home before mom because she told us not to leave the house but the blue berries on our hand told on us because it had to wear off. We would get a whipping but the next day we would do it all over again. When the summer was over then there was school to be starting I did not like school.

 

Amazon Giveaway:

Click here to win a free copy –

 

https://giveaway.amazon.com/p/9445e3e3ecd063c5

 

Buy Links

Amazon US https://www.amazon.com/Secrets-Best-Kept-actual-events-ebook/dp/B071VFKYBP

 

Amazon CA https://www.amazon.ca/Secrets-Best-Kept-actual-events-ebook/dp/B071VFKYBP

 

Amazon UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/Secrets-Best-Kept-actual-events-ebook/dp/B071VFKYBP

 

Hope Destiny

 

Author Biography

Born and raised in Orlando, Florida where I currently reside with my husband and adult kids,  I, Tisha aka Hope Destiny, am an author turned publisher with over 12 published books including a children’s book, Christian fiction novels, collaborations, short stories and more. I wear many hats and trust in God in everything I do.

 

Social Media Links

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/AuthorHopeDestiny

Twitter https://twitter.com/athrhopedestiny

Instagram https://www.instagram.com/penpointpub/

The Rancher’s Baby Proposal by @BarbaraWDaille + @HarlequinBooks #romance #western


The Rancher's Baby Proposal original

 

The Rancher’s Baby Proposal by Barbara White Daille

 

From the back cover

 

HER SECRET COWBOY CRUSH

 

Ally Martinez has always been known as a fun and flirty kind of gal. But deep down she’s never forgotten the cowboy who left town. When her crush Reagan Chase comes home after a five-year absence, Ally knows this is her big chance. The guy I’ve always wanted. Only Reagan has something different in mind…

 

Still reeling from his last relationship, Reagan needs a babysitter for his month-old son. With Ally’s help, he can get his family’s ranch ready for sale and get out of Cowboy Creek. The problem? Ally is one seriously cute distraction. But Reagan will do whatever it takes to keep his heart safe. Even if it means losing the only place—and the only woman—he can call home.

 

Excerpt from the book

 

He dipped his head and brushed his mouth against hers. Just that light touch left her lips tingling. Without a second’s pause, she reached up—way up—to rest her hands on his shoulders. She had to touch him, to hold him, to know he was real.

 

And he was.

 

This was Reagan Chase.

 

After all her years of longing for him, Reagan was finally within her reach. Even better, he was kissing her. That kiss gave her the one thing she had always lacked, the one thing she had always needed to spice up her life—the hot, peppery, flavorful taste of Reagan’s mouth on hers.

 

He slipped one arm around her, holding her close, making her aware of every place their bodies touched. She was just as aware when he lifted his head and let go of her to step away.

 

She looked at him, not realizing she had forgotten to breathe until she was forced to gulp a mouthful of air. His gaze dropped to her blouse for a moment before returning to her face.

 

His face looked shell-shocked.

 

As if already reading the first warnings, her heart dropped into a sad, thumping beat.

 

“I was out of line,” he said. “That was uncalled for.”

 

Her defenses rose into place. She was Ally Martinez. The Girl Most Likely… She tilted her head and batted her lashes at him. “Well, I’d have called for something like that a long time ago if I had known it was on offer.”

 

“It wasn’t. It shouldn’t have been.”

 

“Why not? What’s wrong with it? We’re both consenting adults.”

 

He backed another step and shoved his hands into his back pockets. More than likely, he had no idea the move accentuated the hard curves and planes of his chest.

 

“Reagan,” she said, fighting to keep her tone light, “it was only a kiss. I’ll bet you give them out by the dozen and throw in a few extra, the way Sugar does with her sweet rolls.” She wanted to step forward again, as if they were dancing a cha-cha and it was her turn to chase him.

 

She would follow him anywhere.

 

But his expression told her he would refuse to lead.

 

Buy Links

Amazon
https://www.amazon.com/Ranchers-Baby-Proposal-Hitching-Hotel-ebook/dp/B01LLPCDXY/

Barnes & Noble
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-ranchers-baby-proposal-barbara-white-daille/1124564570

Books-A-Million
http://www.booksamillion.com/p/Ranchers-Baby-Proposal/Barbara-White-Daille/Q92625305?id=6809026813830

Harlequin
http://www.harlequin.com/storeitem.html?iid=70354

IndieBound
http://www.indiebound.org/book/9780373757596

Kobo
https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/the-rancher-s-baby-proposal

 

Barbara White Daille

 

About the Author

Barbara White Daille lives with her husband in the sunny Southwest. Though they love the warm winters and the lizards in their front yard, they haven’t gotten used to the scorpions in the bathroom. Barbara also loves writing, reading, and chocolate. Come to think of it, she enjoys writing about those subjects, too!

 

Barbara wrote her first short story at the age of nine, then typed “The End” to her first novel many years later…in the eighth grade. Now she’s writing contemporary romance on a daily basis. Sign up for her newsletter to keep up with the latest in her writing life:  http://barbarawhitedaille.com/newsletter .

 

Social Media Links

Website  http://www.barbarawhitedaille.com

Blog  http://www.barbarawhitedaille.com/blog

Newsletter  http://www.barbarawhitedaille.com/newsletter

Facebook  http://www.facebook.com/barbarawhitedaille

Twitter  https://twitter.com/BarbaraWDaille

Amazon author page  http://www.amazon.com/Barbara-White-Daille/e/B002J6B0QQ

Harlequin author page  http://www.harlequin.com/author.html?authorid=1244

Goodreads author page
http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/529361.Barbara_White_Daille

One Year Left by J. C. Robinson is Such a Sweet #Romance! #NewAdult #books


One Year Left

 

Title: One Year Left

 

Author: J.C. Robinson

 

Genre: New Adult Romance

 

Book Blurb:

In the last year of his life, Will moves to Portland in search of happiness, but the disappointment and despair of his past aren’t influenced by distance. Then he meets his new roommate, Kristen. Even with her own emotional scars, she’s everything he’s ever wanted. The trouble is, old habits are hard to break and if they can’t find a way to move forward, they risk losing their best chance at love.

 

 

Excerpt:

Kristen

 

Oh my god, Kristen. Get it together. Yes, this is the best surprise you’ve had in recent memory. And yes, this is the best date you’ve been on and it’s only been 30 minutes. But get it together, stop being weird.

 

“I’m sorry, what?” I looked up at him.

 

“I asked if you’ve been on any good dates recently?” he said.

 

“Oh, no,” I answered. “That’s an easy one. How about you?” Way to go, Kristen. That was nine whole words.

 

Will put his elbow on the table and rested his chin on his fist. After a few seconds, he shook his head. “Nope. Nothing worth remembering. Otherwise, I probably wouldn’t be here.”

 

“I like your smile,” I heard myself say. Better to be weird and forward than shy, I suppose.

 

He bit his lip and my knees melted. If I knew compliments induced his lip bites I’d have started long ago. Just not when I was standing, though.

 

“Thanks,” he said. “I like your…” He looked me in the eyes and I saw him take in the entirety of me visible above the table. “I like your everything, to be honest.”

 

I looked down, I had forgotten what I was wearing. It was just a simple t-shirt and sweats. My face heated up with the realization that I had worn this, especially with him looking so nice.

 

“Don’t be embarrassed – it was my fault,” he said, reading my mind. “I did rush you. But I do like your t-shirts. I haven’t seen you in anything else. Do you own anything else?”

 

“Of course!” I reached across the table and hit his arm.

 

“Ouch.” He rubbed his arm in mock disbelief. “You know I was going to put on some music, but now that my arm is out of action, we might have to do without.” He let his arm dangle at his side.

 

Good guys really did exist and I was sitting across from one. He wore a goofy but charming smile as he let his arm dangle as if my punch had done something. Will deserved an attempt on my part. It was time to push Cooper and the other past misadventures aside and see if Will and I could enjoy ourselves. I probably couldn’t turn my brain off completely, but hell, I’d have to try.

 

“Oh, poor you,” I said. “A big head and an arm made of papier-mâché. You poor soul.”

 

He threw his head back and laughed. “Ouch. You know I didn’t ask to be born with glass bones and paper skin.”

 

“I didn’t know about the glass bones,” I said, reaching across the table to rub his arm. “I’m so sorry to hear that.”

 

“Yeah, well…” He squirmed a bit in his seat. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, unfortunately.”

 

“What would you like to share then?” I withdrew my arm, maintaining what I imagined was a wicked grin. I loved knowing I could affect him in the same way he did me.

 

“I’d rather know about your writing. You actually have a dream.”

 

“In that case, I’ll have to share,” I said. “But first, eat your pizza!” I noticed he hadn’t touched his food.

 

He gave me a sheepish shrug. “I can’t eat in front of cute girls.”

 

 

Buy Links:

Amazon US https://amazon.com/dp/B06XVFWWG5

Amazon CA https://amazon.ca/dp/B06XVFWWG5

Amazon UK https://amazon.co.uk/dp/B06XVFWWG5

 

JC Robinson

 

Author Biography:

J.C. Robinson is 26 years-old and lives in Clarksville, MD with his puppy, who thinks tennis balls are treats. He graduated from the University of Maryland in 2013 with a Criminal Justice & Criminology degree. As of March 2017, he has left his job as a professional hand holder (IT-ish) to pursue writing full-time.

 

J.C. enjoys listening to Bon Iver, playing with Max (his rogue puppy), and watching How I Met Your Mother. His favorite movie is also Adventureland — the last scene totally makes his heart flutter. He wants you to know that lettuce is a no-go in tacos and hamburgers (but salads are okay).

 

Social Media Links:

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/jordantheauthor/

 

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16363962.Jordan_C_Robinson

 

Claimed by the Vampire, Seduced by the Werewolf by @KryssieFortune #Erotic #PNR #NewRelease


KF_Claimed by the Vampire

Title Claimed by the Vampire, Seduced by the Werewolf

Author Kryssie Fortune

Genre Erotic Paranormal Romance

Publisher Loose id

Book Blurb

After seven centuries, Elias, a former Spartan turned vampire, finds his eternal bride.

Seth, Elias’s werewolf half-brother, scents his mate.

Vampire and werewolf loathe each other. The only thing they agree on is that Tempest is their mate–and they’re not sharing.

A prophecy will force Tempest, a twenty-first-century witch, to choose between them. As the half-brothers vie to win her heart, they teach her about spanking, the way pain heightens pleasure, and the joy of multiple orgasms.

A vampire can’t survive without his fated bride. A werewolf dies if he loses his mate. Their future rests in Tempest’s hands. Which one will she choose?

Excerpt

In the deserted street outside Tempest’s workplace, a golden werewolf threw back his head and howled. The faint scent of his mate tickled his nostrils, sweet and floral with a hint of spice. Seth breathed deeply, drawing it into his lungs. He couldn’t stay here, since a mythological creature walking York’s streets would cause a panic. People would run from his eight-foot werewolf form. Some might have an adrenaline rush and attack him. The last thing he wanted was to embarrass Hades by injuring humans or ending up in the newspapers.

Seth shifted to human and pulled on the black jeans and leather jacket Hades had left him. As Hades had promised, he found the key to his hotel suite in his pocket. A little luxury wouldn’t go amiss after the endless bland days in the Elysian Fields. Being dead wasn’t all Seth expected it to be. He’d lacked purpose or goals. Having a mission made him feel truly alive, even if it had meant turning werewolf to accept it.

Back in the underworld, his cheeks had ached from the constant smiling, and he’d found the endless joy galling. His riding skills had been the pride of his human existence, but the horses in the Elysian Fields behaved more like oversized puppies than wild stallions. Bored, he’d meandered through the afterlife, grinning like a loon and hating every moment.

Finally, Hades had taken pity on him. Now Seth had a task to fulfill and a mate to claim. It wouldn’t take long to drag the traitor Elias back to his cell in Tartarus. The selfish bastard deserved every torment he suffered after almost plunging the ancient Macedonian kingdom into civil war.

Afterward, Seth would enjoy some serious loving with the woman who smelled of wildflowers and freedom. Before he set out, Hades had given him her name—Tempest—and sworn she wouldn’t be able to resist Seth’s charms. Their connection would seethe with intensity and need. Thinking about it left him aching inside. Once he found her, he’d woo her with expensive gifts and pretty words. Although, maybe he’d spank her pretty ass first.

****

Elias battled the dark hunger inside him. Tempest’s well-being mattered more than his unnatural thirst. While he wanted to claim her, he’d treat her with the respect she deserved.

Boom. An explosion echoed through his skull, so loud it almost deafened him. Boom. It sounded again. Boom. His muscles tensed, and he scanned the room for danger. Boom. Realization dawned. Tempest made him whole and set his heart beating for the first time in centuries. Bride. She’s my bride. The Tuchulcha demons will hurt her to hurt me. 

Werewolves had fated mates, but vampires had brides—the one woman who made their heart beat. Tempest was his, and he’d never willingly leave her side. The depth of his emotions scared him more than the Persian hordes, but humans married, not mated. What if she didn’t feel the same?

His heart pounded in a series of explosions. Heat flowed through him, warming his blood and delighting his soul. His pulse beat like a war drum in his wrist. The longer he stayed with her, the steadier his heart’s rhythm became. Each rise and fall of his chest, each bomb blast of his pulse rocked his world.

Warmth suffused his body. His thoughts seemed sharper, and his pain faded into insignificance beside his need to love and protect his bride. He’d heard legends of how vampires’ brides brought new life to their soul mates, but he’d never expected to find a bride of his own. The idea both terrified and delighted him.

After so many centuries of suffering, he barely remembered how it felt to be human, but his timing sucked. He’d never wanted a woman the way he did Tempest, but figuring out how to claim her… Well, he’d climb that mountain once he’d dealt with the demons he knew would come after him.

Her wildflower essence mingled with the soft swish of her blood, tempting him like nothing ever had before. The sweet sound of it pulsing through her veins had him running his tongue over his dry lips. The need to taste her hardened into an obsession. His mouth watered, and his retractable fangs dropped.

Unaware of her danger, she stormed out the room. “You don’t want a doctor? It’s your funeral, but I’m still going to wash all the blood and grime off your body.”

A funeral? Something else he’d never had. In Sparta, unless you died in battle or childbirth, nobody gave a damn. No funeral. No headstone. Just a lifeless body festering in a dank pit.

His Spartan wife—the woman who’d murdered him while he slept—would have slit his throat for the “or else” he’d thrown at his angel earlier. Then again, Cynisca had done that anyway. Elias hadn’t loved her, but he hadn’t expected her to condemn him for being born Macedonian. Besides, after living in Sparta for twenty-five years, he remembered little about his birth land. Staying behind while his fellow warriors fought at Thermopylae had been humiliating.

Guarding our homes and watching our backs,” King Leonidas had called it.

Elias had known better. Considering the things he’d endured in the afterlife, it seemed unimportant now. He hadn’t expected to survive, let alone thrive under the Spartan regime. He’d been too damn angry to die for his family’s satisfaction. As the eldest son of the Macedonian king, he should have enjoyed a pampered upbringing. Instead, he’d endured the worst things Spartan culture could throw at him. No way would he stand aside and let one of his half-brothers take the Macedonian throne.

The demons had shown him his half-brothers laughing as they basked in their father’s love. They’d had everything while he’d suffered thirteen years of misery and Spartan abuse. Life in the agoge had been harsh and frightening for a seven-year-old, but after the torture he’d endured in the underworld, it seemed like a walk in the park.

Buy Links

Amazon USA             http://amzn.to/2pLmmK4
Amazon CA               https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B0727XFPH8
Amazon UK               http://amzn.to/2pd1Hvt
Kobo                          http://bit.ly/2qBMdl5
Barnes and Noble     http://bit.ly/2q36rI5

Publisher http://www.loose-id.com/claimed-by-the-vampire-seduced-by-the-werewolf.html

 

Kryssie Fortune

Author Biography

Kryssie Fortune writes the sort of hot sexy books she loves to read. If she can sneak a dragon into her paranormal books she will. Her paranormal heroes are muscular werewolves, arrogant Fae, or BDSM loving dragons.

Kryssie likes her contemporary heroes ex-military and dominant. Her heroines are kick ass females who can hold their own against whatever life – or Kryssie – throws at them.

Kryssie’s pet hates are unhappy endings, and a series that end on a cliff hanger.
Her books are all standalone even when part of series. Plot always comes before sex, but when her heroines and heroes get together, the sex is explosive and explicit. One review called it downright sensual.

Social Media Links

Website      http://kryssiefortune.wixsite.com/kryssie

Blog            http://kryssiefortune.blogspot.co.uk/

Twitter         https://twitter.com/KryssieFortune

Facebook    https://www.facebook.com/KryssiesFortune

Pinterest      http://bit.ly/1OGFnjc

Goodreads     http://bit.ly/2kxqabJ

Amazon Author Page  http://amzn.to/2hA0ZVO

“She’s fated to destroy the world” Deathbringer by @TamaraGrantham #fantasy #romance




 

Deathbringer
Tamara Grantham
(Fairy World M.D., Olive Kennedy)
Published by: Crimson Tree Publishing
Publication date: April 25th 2017
Genres: Adult, Fantasy, Romance

 

Some heroes are fated to save the world. Others are meant to destroy it…

 

Olive Kennedy is all about positive thinking. She’s been stuck on Earth for the past four months, waiting for the spring equinox to arrive so she can return to Fairy World — but she’s staying positive. She’s hopeful she’ll once again see her handsome Viking fiancé who’s waiting for her. She’s optimistic that her mission to reclaim the sword of Dracon — a sword of King Arthur fame and the only weapon capable of killing Theht — won’t result in death and destruction. And then there’s the small matter of an asteroid that’s been ripped out of its orbit and is hurtling toward Earth…no biggie.

 

One last thing — she’s fated to destroy the world. To stop that prophecy from being fulfilled, she may have to sacrifice the one person she loves the most.

 

Good thing she’s staying positive.

 

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

EXCERPT:

I stood and crossed to my bedroom, then grabbed my backpack and slung it over my shoulder. After grabbing my temporary mirror case out of a drawer, I placed it on top of my dresser.

I wasn’t sure if I should cringe or laugh as I scanned my new mirror. I’d found it at the dollar store after a frustrating day of trying to create a new mirror box with no success. I’d bought it because it was absurd and to remind myself that it was temporary.

The plastic box was pink with the name BARBIE scrolled on the top. Inside was a foam liner that had once held five nail polish bottles. I’d cut the foam to make larger slots. Now, it held my five figurines that represented the races of Faythander: Dragon, elf, Wult, pixie, and goblin.

After unlocking the latch, I opened the lid. “You’re fabulous! Inside and out!” sang to me in a bubble-gum voice as I propped the lid open.

As I said, temporary solution. Extremely temporary. It had a mirror under the lid and was the perfect size for my figurines, so it worked. For now.

Scanning my figurines, I found the Wult and removed it from the foam, then propped it upright against the mirror. I needed to get to the Wultlands, and this would be the easiest way to do so.

I ignored the glittery scrolling along the edges of the mirror and focused on the glass. Taking a deep breath, I paused before touching my fingers to the mirror.

Months ago, the portals had started acting erratically. I’d thought the problem had been solved after we’d restored the fairies’ stone, but when I’d returned to Earth four months ago, the portal had almost torn me apart. I’d gotten several stitches in my abdomen because the crossing had been so violent. Since then, I hadn’t once been able to open a portal, but tonight, I had no choice. I needed to return to Faythander before the equinox, and I had one thing in my favor—I hadn’t tried opening a portal with my new Barbie box yet.

Here’s to hoping my luck improved, I thought. Then again, this was my luck we were talking about. Yeah, probably not.

Carefully, I placed my fingertips to the screen, inhaled a deep breath, and then conjured the word to open the portal.

Magic flowed from my heart, through my arms and hands, and into the mirror. Gold and amber swirls licked like fire over my skin as the magic interacted with the mirror, mingling with the blue glow coming from the plastic case.

The power grew inside me as the portal opened. Wind swirled around me until the room disappeared and I floated in a void. Voices came from somewhere. Soft whispers. Among them was a familiar one. The cold, detached voice of Theht.

I am here. I am waiting.

I’d gotten better at tuning her out, but being in a place like this, between worlds, made it almost impossible to keep her away.

Soon, we shall destroy the world together. Deathbringer.

The wind grew stronger and faster, wrapping around me, squeezing the air from my lungs. It compressed me until I couldn’t breathe. Pain coursed through my nerve endings as the pressure weighed me down. I felt as if I’d been buried under millions of tons of sand.

I cried out, but couldn’t hear my voice over the wind. Tears leaked from my eyes. I felt their warmth on my cheeks. In a desperate attempt to survive, I focused on the magic within me, unleashing every ounce, pouring it into the portal to keep it steady.

I thought for sure I was dead when I hit the ground. I landed awkwardly, my shoulder and hips taking the brunt of the impact. My mirror, on the other hand, made a graceful landing in a pile of leaves beside me.

I lay on the ground, panting for air, staring at the faded blue sky through the patchwork of branches with budding green shoots.

“Never again,” I muttered between gasps. Next time, I would find a Viking ship and cross through an underground ocean filled with man-eating sea-snakes before using a portal. “Never. Again.”

On the bright side, at least I’d finally made it back to Faythander. The $.99 investment into the Barbie mirror wasn’t such a bad buy after all.

 

Author Bio:

 

Tamara Grantham is the award-winning author of more than half a dozen books and novellas, including the Olive Kennedy: Fairy World MD series and the Shine novellas. Dreamthief, the first book of her Fairy World MD series, won first place for fantasy in INDIEFAB’S Book of the Year Awards, a RONE award for best New Adult Romance of 2016, and is a #1 bestseller on Amazon in both the Mythology and Fairy Tales categories with over 100 reviews.

 

Tamara holds a Bachelor’s degree in English. She has been a featured speaker at the Rose State Writing Conference and has been a panelist at Comic Con Wizard World speaking on the topic of female leads. For her first published project, she collaborated with New York-Times bestselling author, William Bernhardt, in writing the Shine series.

 

Born and raised in Texas, Tamara now lives with her husband and five children in Wichita, Kansas. She rarely has any free time, but when the stars align and she gets a moment to relax, she enjoys reading fantasy novels, taking nature walks, which fuel her inspiration for creating fantastical worlds, and watching every Star Wars or Star Trek movie ever made. You can find her online at http://www.TamaraGranthamBooks.com.

 

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter

 

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Blaque Beauty and the Billionaire by @ErinLeeDaniels1 #romance #books #amreading


Blaque beauty and the Billionaire

 

Title: Blaque Beauty and the Billionaire

Author: Erin Lee Daniels

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Publisher: Charenkin House Publishing

 

Book Blurb:

Marlee Winters is on top of the world. With a devastating relationship well behind her and her interior design career in high gear, Marlee is thrilled when her firm lands a contract with billionaire developer Marc Ross. But when she discovers that her passionate, mysterious new lover is none other than the boss, himself, will Marlee lose everything, including her heart?

 

Billionaire real estate magnate Marc Ross is used to getting what he wants and he wants Marlee Winters. Caring, quirky and confident, she is nothing like the spoiled heiresses and supermodels he is used to dating. But convinced he has at least 4.6 billion reasons to hide his true identity, Marc rolls the dice and hopes for the best. But a vindictive ex -wife and an epic snowstorm are in the cards, threatening to destroy a future Marc didn’t even know he wanted until Marlee walked into his life.

 

Will deception be the deal-breaker or is happily ever after written in the fine print?

 

Excerpt:

They rode in silence. Marc wanted to say something, anything that would get her to respond or at least listen, but the words wouldn’t come. They were dammed up in his chest like ice, and he couldn’t work past the fear he felt when he looked at her closed face.

 

He had held out hope at first – that once they were alone in the car they could talk. When she first saw him standing in the Pritchard’s living room, her face had remained blank, but he saw something flash in her eyes. Relief? Anger? But it was gone just as quickly, and after an emotional goodbye to Jan and Paul, Marlee had gathered her things and followed him dutifully out to the Jeep, closed off and silent. Damnit.

 

No one who knew him, who had ever known him, would be able to reconcile how he had behaved with who he really was. He had certainly never been the type of guy who lied to women to get what he wanted, and yet, here he was with Marlee, her pain so evident, so palpable, it was like a third person in the car. He remembered how she had felt in his arms just the night before, warm and laughing, looking up at him with dark, beautiful eyes. His heart suddenly felt heavy in his chest.

 

Special Giveaway:

Now through May 15 subscribers to my newsletter will receive a free copy of my upcoming novella Blaque Beauty and the Rancher. Subscribe at www.erinleedaniels.com/subscribe

 

Buy Links:

Amazon US https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B06WP9BVVR

Amazon CA https://www.amazon.ca/gp/product/B06WP9BVVR

Amazon UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B06WP9BVVR

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/34341926-blaque-beauty-and-the-billionaire

 

Erin Lee Daniels

Author Biography:

Erin Lee Daniels is an editor and romance author. After receiving a degree in Political Science and International Relations Erin Lee worked in the private sector before pursuing her lifelong dream of authorship. She lives in NYC and enjoys travel, cooking, collecting fine china, keeping a handle on her American Girl addiction and spending time with family and good friends.

 

Social Media Links:

Website www.erinleedaniels.com

Twitter https://twitter.com/@erinleedaniels1

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/Erin-Lee-Daniels-394137567588303/?ref=br_rs

 

 

 

 

 

Heartstone: The Drowned Tower by @NicholasRinth is Riveting! #epicfantasy #fantasy


Drowned Tower, The - Nicholas Rinth

 

Title: Heartstone: The Drowned Tower

Author: Nicholas Rinth

Genre: Epic Fantasy

 

Book Blurb:

“If the future was bared before you, would it still be yours?
If the past could chase you, would you run from it?
If the world crumbled tonight, would you carve your own?”

 

Freedom is out of the question for practitioners of the Institute, and any supporters otherwise are dealt with violently. A system Sylvie Sirx neither refutes, nor endorses—born from an enviable family, talented in her skills, and entirely too content with her position, her path has always been a straight one… until now.

 

Her qualifications backfire when an elder from the north descends upon her home for a Choosing. He calls upon the Drowned Tower’s most sought after practitioners for a simple job that ends in blood, and then Sylvie’s blissful world erupts. She finds herself in the company of the Elementalist, Jacques Dace, an insufferable but deadly enthusiast of personal reform. Together, they’re swept into a spiral of powerful magic and ancient grudges. Where truth bends, stones whisper secrets of the past, and their home lies at the heart of what could very well be Ferus Terria’s next recorded war.

 

And for once, she is forced to choose a side, learning for herself what it means to master fate.

 

Excerpt:

Come to me, the voice beckoned.

 

Jack’s eyes burned. He clutched his face and groaned in pain.

 

“What’s wrong?” Tiv asked.

 

Jack tried to respond, but the words died in his throat. They were replaced by a scream that had Tiv dropping down to his haunches and shaking Jack in worry. As he doubled over at the sensation of heat erupting from his sockets. His eyes didn’t melt. But they might as well have.

 

He gnashed his teeth together and muffled a scream. Hot tears trailed down his cheeks. They clouded his vision and only made his pain worse.

 

Jack’s blood boiled. It was too hot.

 

He heard voices. Men, women, children. They echoed in his mind, bouncing around as if they belonged there. He heard the clank of chains and burning fire. Children’s screams thrown into the mix like muffled background noise. They cried out to him. Their voices were pitiful whines. But what could he do?

 

Stop it! Jack dug his palms into his eyes, sorely wishing that he was a Healer. Go away! Leave me alone. I can’t help you!

 

This was his body. His. They had no right to play in his head. They could cripple him from pain, but he wouldn’t allow them to invade his mind. His thoughts were his own, and he’d sooner die than relinquish the reins that governed him.

 

“Enough!” Jack bit out, clawing at his throat. His magic burst forth out of instinct. His hands radiated a pale blue, before he conjured fire. The blaze encircled his form, spreading warmth over worn limbs and encasing him in a ball of scorching heat that distorted the air.

 

Tiv stepped back, his black eyes filled with confusion. He’d almost been burned.

 

“Jack! What’s going on?”

 

“I said, enough!”

 

And as if listening to him, the pain ceased.

 

Jack clutched his head for a tick longer. As the sparks of his magic died down. His head pounded with a vengeance that matched the erratic beat of his heart.

 

For fuck’s sake, was Jack’s first thought, what just happened?

 

His eyes were still sealed shut, and his mouth was clenched in frustrated silence. The tears left wet trails down his cheeks. They stung. But he made no move to wipe them.

 

Tiv squirmed a distance away. He took a cautious step forward. Close enough to assist, but far enough to run should Jack decide to sheathe himself in another circle of fire.

 

“Jack,” Tiv called, hesitant. “Are you alright?”

 

“Do I look—” Jack recoiled, just as Tiv flinched.

 

Black clouded Jack’s vision. He frantically looked around, trying to shake off the hazy tendrils obstructing his periphery. Despite the added darkness, his sight was unnaturally clear. Colors were enhanced. Lines more pronounced. The world flowed. Seamless. A harmony of utter perfection. It was almost too bright.

 

Jack heard a gasp and turned to see Tiv point a trembling finger at him.

 

“Your eyes…” Tiv stepped back in sudden fear. “What happened to your eyes?”

 

Buy Links:

The Drowned Tower is Available for Purchase Here:
|
EBOOK MASTERLINK|

PAPERBACK:
BARNES&NOBLE (USA) !NDIGO (CA) BOOKTOPIA (AU)
AMAZON: |
USA | UK | FRANCE GERMANY JAPAN | BRAZIL | ITALY | SPAIN |

 

Nicholas Rinth

 

Author Bio:

NICHOLAS RINTH lives lakeside in the southern graces of Savannah, Georgia. Where he spends his time fantasizing about other worlds and working on his next novel.

 

Social Media Links:

Website | Instagram | Twitter | Tumblr | Amazon

Mike and Hannah (West Coast Soulmates #2) by @carlakrae is a Heartfelt #Romance! #books


Natural qualitative texture. Close up.

 

Title – Mike and Hannah

Author – Carla Krae

Genre – Contemporary Romance

Publisher – Willowick Publishing

 

Book Blurb —

Takes place after COMPLETED and DYLAN AND JEN.

 

With most of the band coupled up now, Mike is the seventh wheel. Realizing he hasn’t cultivated a life outside the band in years is a lonely epiphany. When a young woman mistakes him for someone else, the awkward encounter turns into a possibility for something real. Something lasting. Something like love.

 

Hannah, a recent arrival in L.A., is looking for a connection in her new life. Despite meeting Mike under less-than-ideal circumstances, she accepts his invitation to a Memorial Day BBQ with his friends, never expecting them to be famous rockstars with hearts of gold. Mike couldn’t be nicer and sparks are flying, so when he insists on taking their time to get to know each other, part of her is flattered and the other side is frustrated he won’t get naked. How far can she tease him before he gives in?

 

Settle in for a sweet and spicy romance in the My Once and Future Love Revisited universe where finding yourself means finding true love. This story is intended for readers over the age of 18 due to adult language, sexual content, and adult situations. West Coast Soulmates book #2.

 

Excerpt —

Choose to be the new girl in town at your peril.  I get now why Mom never lived farther than twenty minutes from the house she was born in.  Looking around my empty living room, the balloons in the corners mocked my solitude.  The food on the kitchen table sat untouched, a chocolate cake still pristine in the center.

 

Someone knocked on the front door.  Thank God.  I checked my watch and opened the door.  “Marcy!”  Fifteen minutes late, but at least someone showed up.

 

She shoved a present into my hands.  “Hi, Hannah, sorry I can’t stay, but I wanted to give you this so you wouldn’t think I forgot.”  She smiled, ran back down the driveway to her Honda, and zipped away, waving through the window.

 

Wow.  Even my best friend—rethinking that title now—couldn’t stay for my birthday.

 

Hannah, she’s your only friend.

 

I placed the small gift on the table and put the food back in the refrigerator.  Didn’t want to poison anyone, should they ever show up.  Hadn’t invited a lot of people—there weren’t many I knew well enough yet to let into my home—but I’d put out a decent spread.  There was even alcohol, and I didn’t drink.

 

After another half-hour, I gave up and turned the lights out in the living room, then cut a piece of cake for myself and stuck one candle in it.

 

“Happy friggin’ birthday to me.”

 

Making a half-hearted wish in my head for some improvement to the night, I blew the candle out.  My dress went back in the closet in favor of a long-sleeve tee and sweatpants, then I signed into my e-mail on the off-chance my co-workers made excuses.  Nothing but a couple ads and a request for a file from work even though everybody knew I had the day off.  Joy.

 

Then it hit me, the message that was missing today—Dad’s.  Tears blurred my vision.

 

Two months after his death, I’d been doing okay.  Not a hint of tears for two weeks.  We weren’t close and conversations were usually awkward at best, but he always remembered my birthday.  We saw each other two, maybe three times a year.  It shouldn’t be that big a deal, dangit.  We weren’t close.  I’d even spent adolescent years hating him, yet these stupid tears were smudging my mascara.

 

Funny how I’d come to rely on a short little e-mail every year.  I sniffed and reached for a tissue.

 

“So, Hannah…friendless, parentless…what are you gonna do now?”  I turned on the bathroom faucet.  “I’m going to wash my face and eat cake until I puke.”

 

Good plan, huh?

 

Skin squeaky clean, I blindly reached for a towel and dried my face, then felt along the counter for my glasses.  The girl in the mirror wore a frown.

 

I sighed.

 

The doorbell chimed, an hour after the party should have started.

 

Padding to the door in bare feet, I switched the porch light on and unlocked the deadbolt.

 

Buy Links —

Amazon https://www.amazon.com/dp/B06Y2P9223

Apple https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/mike-hannah-my-once-future/id1148684847?mt=11

B&N http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/mike-and-hannah-carla-krae/1124491338?ean=2940153704111

Smashwords https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/661762

 

 

Author Biography —

Fiction writer. Sci-fi lover. Trained vocalist. Cat mom.

Debuting in 2011, Carla Krae lives in California with two crazy cats and a tech guy.

To stay up-to-date, sign up for the newsletter: http://eepurl.com/FHncP

My Once and Future Love Revisited :
Kissed
Betrayed
Forgiven
Loved
Completed (2016)
Dylan and Jen (stand alone)
Mike and Hannah (stand alone)

West Coast Soulmates:
Dylan and Jen (published)
Mike and Hannah (4/7/2017)
The Roommate (published)
Mr. Perfect (2017)
Untitled (2017)

 

Social Media Links —

Facebook page https://www.facebook.com/CarlaKraeAuthor

Twitter https://twitter.com/carlakrae

Follow on BookBub https://www.bookbub.com/authors/carla-krae

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/carla_krae

Instagram https://www.instagram.com/willowickcarla/

 

 

Love and Crime: Stories by @VSKemanis #romanticsuspense #suspense #books


Love and Crime Stories - Half size

 

Title: Love and Crime: Stories

Author: V.S. Kemanis

Genre: Short Stories/Psychological Suspense/Literary Fiction

Publisher: Opus Nine Books

 

Book Blurb:

Loves big and small, crimes forgiven or avenged. These are the themes that drive the eleven diverse stories in this new collection of psychological suspense from storyteller V.S. Kemanis.

 

Meet the husband and wife team Rosemary and Reuben, master chefs known to sprinkle a dash of magic into every dish. Lucille Steadman, a dazed retiree who can’t explain why she’s left her husband, only to discover, too late, the meaning of love and commitment in the most surprising place. Franklin DeWitt, an esteemed ballet critic who witnesses—or abets?—a bizarre criminal plot to topple a beautiful Soviet ballerina. Rosalyn Bleinstorter, a washed-up defense attorney whose stubborn belief in her own street savvy leads her unwittingly into a romantic and criminal association with an underworld figure.

 

These are just a few of the colorful characters you’ll get to know in these pages, where all is fair in love and crime. While the endings to these tales are not always sweet or predictable, and self-deception is rarely rewarded, the lessons come down hard and are well learned.

 

This collection includes stories originally published in Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine, The William & Mary Review, Lynx Eye, and Iconoclast, and previously unpublished stories.

 

Excerpt:  

ROSEMARY AND REUBEN

 

ANDERSON IS SINGLE by choice and always has been. True to his one love, he treats himself to an epicurean delight every Saturday night. At this stage of his life, he’s indifferent to money and mortality and gladly indulges to excess. Only the finest restaurants in Manhattan will do.

 

Before stepping out, Anderson trims the goatee and puts on his evening best. Invariably he dines alone, although he isn’t without a list of possible companions, female and male. Still, there’s no wish for a lover to dine with. On his evenings out, he indulges a craving of a different sort, the sensual experience of taste, texture, and aroma, the heft of silver and gleam of crystal, the lengthening and savoring of time. For a few hours he forgets his life—everything it is and is not. A full belly and a buzz from the grape will do that.

 

On this particular Saturday, Anderson is fortunate to have a reservation at the celebrated Ole Factory in the Village. Competition is high. It’s rumored that, after thirty-five years in business, Rosemary and Reuben Blandrigard will soon be retiring.

 

At seven o’clock, Anderson alights from a taxicab, braves an icy blast, and darts over the frozen pavement into the restaurant. The small foyer is square, dim, and hushed like a confessional, with a single, warm light directed from the ceiling toward the opposite wall.

 

Anderson is drawn to the sepia-toned photograph of the owners, framed in a simple mahogany rectangle, displayed on the eggshell wall. Rosemary lovingly gazes at Reuben, and Reuben gazes at Anderson with a look of glazed contentment.

 

Past the foyer and over the threshold, a young hostess looks up. Anderson squares his shoulders and announces his name. She seems to know him. “How are you this evening, Mr. Anderson?”

 

“Fine. Just fine, thank you.” He strokes the goatee and drops his eyes to her neck.

 

“Is this your first time at the Ole Factory?”

 

“Yes, indeed it is,” he informs her neck. “I’ve run the gauntlet successfully it seems.”

 

“And you’ve earned your reward.”

 

“I look forward to it.”

 

He senses her amusement, feigned or real, from the tension in her neck.

 

“Right this way, please.” She turns, sending her long skirt into a gentle swirl, and guides him at a leisurely pace through the well-spaced dining room of about twenty tables. The décor is spare but pleasing. In the far corner, a small, round table awaits him. The single chair is backed into the corner, allowing him a view outward into the room—a thoughtful arrangement. At some establishments he’s made to face the wall, and at others, an empty, second chair stands in silent rebuke of his social failings.

 

Anderson sits and orders an aperitif. Glancing at the menu, he senses, in the periphery, the sexual murmurings of a young, starry-eyed couple at the next table. Against his will, he’s aroused by a fleeting emotional stirring. The moment passes, giving way to the pleasing texture in his hand—the single sheet of cardstock. This is the message printed on the front:

 

“Welcome to the Ole Factory. We’ve created a unique menu for tonight’s meal. Let your server know if your pleasure is One or The Other. Your hosts, Rosemary and Reuben.”

 

Always a surprise, always superb. (The critics agree.) Each meal at the Ole Factory is specially created for the clientele, a process that begins with a telephone interview to vet personal aversions and food allergies. Simpatico tastes of prospective patrons are carefully matched, and a guest list is compiled for each sitting before any reservation is confirmed. It can take a year to get on a list.

 

As a successful applicant, Anderson has won the right to ponder his two options for the evening. Without much thought, he selects “The Other” before flipping the card over. Printed on the back is a short paragraph entitled “The Story of Rosemary and Reuben.” Legend might be the more descriptive term. Everything about them is legend, including their habit of circulating through the dining room during coffee and dessert. They appear at the kitchen door, wrench apart like cloven chopsticks, and weave different routes through the tables, separately greeting their guests.

 

As he sips his aperitif and reads The Story a second time, Anderson silently hopes that Rosemary will be the one to visit him at the end of his meal.

 

Two and a half hours later, he gets his wish. At nine thirty, she emerges from the kitchen with Reuben. Nearly touching, they suspend all movement for barely an eye blink. Reluctantly they part. With a quick, light step, Rosemary toes a straight line along the wall to Anderson’s table. She’s a roundish, dwarflike woman of about Anderson’s age, with silvery-gray hair pulled tightly back into a doughnut at the nape of her neck, exposing delicately-lobed, naked ears. Coming to a halt in dramatic proximity, she’s not much taller than Anderson as he sits. With a familiar air, she regards him from beneath jet-black eyebrows. Hold still please, says the creator of that sepia-toned photograph.

 

“Mr. Anderson. We’re very glad you could come this evening.”

 

His heart races in confusion. Her visit to his table fulfills his dearest wish, but everything else has been less than expected, troublingly so. He doesn’t understand the meaning of the past two and a half hours. He wants to tell her, but the words are bottled under a well-aged cork.

 

Before Anderson can speak, Rosemary lifts a bent index finger and rests the knuckle on the tip of her sharply-pointed nose. The finger covers her nostrils, the fisted hand covers her mouth.

 

Anderson searches for polite words but finds only the single, obvious truth. “The service was excellent, thank you.”

 

With a nod, she removes her hand. “It’s been our pleasure. Is there anything else we can get for you? Anything at all?” Pausing after the last word, the silence that follows announces her omission. She hasn’t inquired whether he enjoyed his dinner.

 

 

*     *     *

 

Buy Links:

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Love-Crime-Stories-V-S-Kemanis-ebook/dp/B01N5X277X

Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/love-and-crime-v-s-kemanis/1125784694?ean=2940154010600

Apple: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/love-and-crime-stories/id1205788364?mt=11

Kobo: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/love-and-crime-stories/id1205788364?mt=11

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/703882

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/34238154-love-and-crime

 

V.S. Kemanis - 1

 

Author Biography:

V.S. Kemanis grew up in the East Bay Area of California in a family with six amazing siblings and parents passionate about politics, social issues, theater and music. Mealtimes were often raucous, stimulating, intellectual and fun gatherings in a household full of family and interesting guests, musicians, actors, artists, professors and university students.

 

Ms. Kemanis holds a B.A. in sociology from the University of California at Berkeley, and a J.D. from the University of Colorado, School of Law, at Boulder. In her legal career, she has been a criminal prosecutor of street crime and organized crime for county and state agencies, argued criminal appeals for the prosecution and defense, conducted complex civil litigation, and worked as a court attorney for state appellate courts. She is also an accomplished dancer of classical ballet, modern jazz and contemporary styles and has performed, taught and choreographed in California, Colorado and New York.

 

Dozens of short stories by Ms. Kemanis have been published in noted literary journals and award-winning collections. Her three novels in the Dana Hargrove legal mystery series draw on her personal experience in criminal law, juggling the needs of family with a high-powered legal career. Ms. Kemanis is a member of the Mystery Writers of America.

 

Social Media Links:

Website:  http://www.vskemanis.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/V.S.Kemanis.Author

Twitter: https://twitter.com/VSKemanis

 

 

Love Gritty, #DarkRomance? 1-Click WetWork Episode 3 by @CadenceDenton #amreading #ASMSG


WetWork Ep3 WEB 06152015

 

Title: WetWork, Dark Man Case Files, Episode 3

This is the third installment in my gritty, sexy, hitman serial. David Morace aka Dark Man is the main character.

Author: Cadence Denton

Genre: Contemporary Romance Suspense/Thriller

 

Book Blurb:

WetWork, Dark Man Case Files, Episode 3 is a gritty, action-packed romantic serial (30k). Filled with pulsing passion and heart pounding intrigue, it is the third episode in this hot, new series by author, Cadence Denton. Each installment ends in a cliffhanger.

Things have gone from bad to worse for Dark Man. First, he was set up to be the fall guy for the Guild, the family who’d named him pariah and turned their backs on him. Next, his current employers decided to terminate him with extreme prejudice. And then there’s Angel—the fact she’d called him by his brother’s name when they made love was the cherry on top of this crap cake. It almost made being the Medic’s new lab rat a relief. Almost.

He’d like to bury his feelings for Angel, but he hadn’t signed on for what the Medic planned: to turn him into a robot with a pulse.

Add another covert group with its own agenda to the already crowded field of adversaries and the conspiracy web grows wider. With his list of enemies multiplying by the minute, Dark Man’s chances of surviving are slim to none.

He needs a miracle. He needs his Angel.

 

Exclusive Extended 18+ Excerpt:

Angel sat at a small table inside the Sixty-First Street Starbucks on Galveston Island studiously avoiding eye contact with the elderly couple on her right while her stomach growled at the fragrant scent of cinnamon rolls and fresh scones.

The old woman’s face had drawn up in a mask of disapproval, her nose crinkled like she smelled an open landfill instead of the heady aroma of freshly ground coffee beans and pastries. She shot a barrage of narrow-eyed glares Angel’s way while her husband’s gaze was altogether different. The old man looked at Angel like she was a three-inch thick New York strip steak. She’d watched him swipe a strand of drool from quivering lips before his gnarled hand retreated beneath the table to do God knew what.

Once more she fought the urge to tug at her skirt. What was the point? It wasn’t like pulling on it was going to make it one millimeter longer.

The old lady sniffed then turned her attention back to her ensainada. She took a bite and Angel’s stomach growled so loudly the table of teenage surfers on the other side of the old farts heard it and snickered. Angel sighed. She’d wanted to order the yummy coiled sweet bread topped with powdered sugar with her coffee, but sadly could only scratch up enough coins to pay for the iced caffe Americano.

She didn’t dare use her credit cards. The last thing she needed was a Chernyy headhunter showing up which would be the first thing to happen if she used her plastic. Anyway, she needed the caffeine more than the Danish so her empty stomach would just have to suck it up. Unhappy with the arrangement, her stomach complained again. Geez, where was her coffee? Angel glanced back at the barista, saw her cup was now third in line and sighed again. Who would have thought Starbucks would be this busy on a Sunday morning?

She crossed her legs and mentally rolled her eyes when she heard the old man slurp in a breath while the sour old lady hissed, “Shameless hussy.”

Yeah. Well, she’d just have to suck it up, too. Angel peered out the wall of glass. The surf was as gray as the morning sky. It reflected her mood.

She was a legend in the assassins’ community. Her reputation as lethal and invincible was almost universal. Why did she feel so helpless? Worse than that, she felt fragile, like she’d shatter into a zillion pieces at the slightest touch.

“Ahren?”

Starting, she looked around to see the young man at the counter. Her order was ready. She’d forgotten that she’d given him her true name. Tugging again at the disobedient skirt, she rose to her feet.

“Sweet Jesus on a donkey.” The old man’s voice was hoarse. With her peripheral vision, Angel watched his wife lean over and give his arm a smack.

“Oww… whaddidya do that for?”

“C’mon you old coot. We’re leaving.”

“Why? I haven’t finished my breakfast.”

“Oh, yes you have,” she snapped. Draping her purse over her shoulder, she marched him to the door, her gnarled hand gripping his wrist while he cast longing looks back at Angel.

After adding sweetener to the coffee, Angel returned to her seat, sipping contentedly as the strong brew hit her stomach and silenced its demands at least for a while. With the dual distractions of hunger and lecherous old men taken out of the equation, her thoughts returned like homing pigeons to what was really bothering her. DM.

Angel picked at the neon pink fingernail polish on her thumb, her coffee forgotten. Why… why had she left DM that way?

They’d made love—sex on the beach had been everything she dreamed it would be. So, why had she ditched him?

Come now, Ahren. Who do you think you’re fooling?

Damien—God! She’d actually called DM Damien when her orgasm flooded her. Damien was DM’s identical twin. His brother. His enemy. Had he noticed? Of course he’d noticed. She grimaced at the memory. DM had stiffened for that instant before he’d lost himself inside her. She scratched off another line of polish, refusing to think about the sensuous dream that had taken her afterwards. Damien and her. Together in a shower. Their lovemaking had seemed so real.

“No. I won’t think about that. It didn’t happen. It will never happen. It was a dream… just a dream,” she whispered, as if saying it aloud would make it true.

“They say if you talk to yourself you converse with a fool.”

Angel’s head snapped up, her breath catching in her chest. She knew that voice. “Gregor?” Unable to do anything but croak.

Gregor Utegaliyev, the Director of Chernyy, was a man in his middle years. His dark hair was close cropped and threaded with silver. Standing just at average height, his looks were misleading. His cheeks were ruddy and his lips had a natural tendency to curve up. He looked harmless. That was until you met his eyes. His eyes, shrouded by heavy, black brows, were coldly intelligent and dangerous.

Her eighteen months with Chernyy had shown her what Gregor was capable of. She’d watched him cut a man to pieces in front of the man’s family then turn and give the victim’s children a pat on the head and a couple rubles each before burning down their squalid home. The smell of burnt cabbage and sausage had stayed with her for days. “Life is hard,” he’d explained after they’d returned to base and were enjoying a glass of vodka. “Better for them to learn that early.” Cold, Russian pragmatism at its finest, that was Gregor.

Angel glanced wildly from him to where her handbag, with hand gun inside, rested just out of reach on a chair and cursed silently. It sat in easy reach to Gregor. As if driving that home, he unbuttoned his sport coat to reveal his rig.

With little to lose, she made a grab for the purse, but he easily stopped her clumsy attempts, his gun clenched in his fist. The barrel looked as big as a cannon and it was pointed at her head. Slowly, she shrugged and put her hands back on the table.  With a quick glance around, Gregor sat down.

“You’re… here,” she said, stupidly stating the obvious. She’d expected a Chernyy hit team, but not the Director of Chernyy.

He dipped his chin once, a wry twist to his lips. “You could say I was in the neighborhood.”

Angel sat back in her chair. “You won’t shoot me in Starbucks. Not in front of all these witnesses.”

“Won’t I? I’ve made countless hits in places more crowded than this.”

She’d give him that. “But not here in the United States. There are cameras everywhere and people with cell phones to record your actions. It would cause an international incident.”

Gregor’s eyes narrowed for a moment then he sighed. With a shrug, he slipped his gun back into his rig and smiled broadly. His teeth, she noticed, were stained. As if in answer to that observation, he pulled a pack of Marlboro cigarettes from his jacket, stuck one in his mouth and lit it, ignoring the hostile glares from neighboring diners. He inhaled deeply then blew a stream of smoke toward the ceiling. “Marlboro,” he said turning the cigarette sideways so she could see it.

She shrugged. What the hell did she care?

“It is the brand of cigarettes American cowboys smoke.”

“Great,” she said faintly. Okay, now that was weird.

Seeming satisfied with her response, Gregor again inhaled deeply, savoring the taste of the tobacco. Exhaling another plume of smoke, he focused on Angel. “Did you truly think I would not learn you’re a Guild plant?” He smiled when she stiffened.

She’d known he’d found her out. Hadn’t she survived the kill team at the Four Seasons Hotel? But the truth of the matter was she’d thought it was DM they’d been after. She was convinced that she was still flying under the radar—which just showed the depth of her own self-deception. Damn, she hated when she did that.

Taking a sip of tepid coffee, she said, “Did you really think I wouldn’t notice you’d joined with the Chinese to take me out?” She watched him dip his chin as though conceding a point in their verbal chess match.

“You survived the operation, so naturally I knew you and Morace would figure out the alliances.” The thick cloud of smoke he exhaled veiled his eyes.

Glancing about, Angel noted the blond giant, Nikita, who was always a jolly flirt, sitting next to the restrooms’ doors while surly Dimitri, never her friend, sat at the table beside the exit and sent dark glances around the room.  Looking through the window, she noted a charcoal gray SUV, Chernyy’s vehicle of choice, across the street. A trill of fear danced up her spine. She was alone. Alone as in singular. There was no backup. There would be no backup. She had only herself, the gun she couldn’t reach, and a couple clips she wouldn’t be using.  Trapped. Good and well trapped.

She heard wind chimes and frowned. Where was it coming from? The soft tinkling erupted again and she peered down at her cell phone, confounded. That was not her usual text tone. Tilting the phone up, Angel ran a thumb across the screen.

Chernyy is here

No shit, she thought, stealthily turning the phone to silent mode.

Come outside. We r w8ting

Using extreme care, she was just able to press ? and send. In an instant the reply came back and she nearly fainted in relief when she read the single word: Natalya

She blinked, realizing that Gregor was still speaking in a low, urgent tone. “… Damien must be sent a clear message.”

Oh, that was rich. She burbled a laugh. Truth was she couldn’t hold it back. The thought of sending the Crown Prince of the Guild a clear message was laughable. It was Damien who had put her in this untenable position with no explanations and certainly no apologies. Did these fools really think they could lesson Damien? The term damned if you do and damned if you don’t sprang to mind.

“Funny, Damien said the same about you.”

Gregor’s lips tightened for a tense moment. Finally, he leaned back and shrugged. “Ah, but I am here and where is Damien?” He made a show of looking about expectantly before turning back to her, his dark eyes alight with triumph. “No doubt he is sitting safe and snug in his ivory tower, yes?”

He was right, damn him. She knew that was exactly where Damien was. And double damn Damien for putting her here with no backup, no real resources and only one ally who she herself had abandoned. Glancing out the window again, she prayed DM would show up, that she hadn’t made a clean getaway, and that somehow he’d followed her. After all, if Natalya was here it wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility he’d be with her. But she could find no sign of him—or Natalya; just a young mother pushing a baby stroller, and an older couple sitting at the bus stand watching a teen sail past on a skateboard.  There would be no rescue today.

Meeting Gregor’s gaze, she thought she saw sympathy in his brown eyes but that was impossible, right? It had to be a glint of triumph. “Shall we?” he asked, nodding at the door.

Sighing, she reached for her handbag. Exhaustion kicked her hard between the eyes as she rose to her feet and left her feeling as colorless and worn as a faded pair of blue jeans. Angel trudged past tables where diners sipped their coffee and took bites out of pastries while staring like zombies at their tablets and smartphones.

She walked to the door held open by Nikita, a disapproving purse to his lips, and passed through ignoring Dimitri’s muttered threats. The gray SUV pulled across the street to a chorus of angry horns making the elderly couple look up and the young mother standing at the corner waiting for the light, turn and gawk. Gregor led the way, head down, moving with purpose toward the vehicle’s open door.

She gave her head a shake, unable to believe this was happening. Not once did she envision her death would be so boringly ridiculous.

Nikita stepped closer to her, his gun flashing in her face, and she set her jaw, determined to take this opening. She made a grab for his weapon, but felt her arm go numb from a blow to her elbow. Angel threw a kick that sent Nikita stumbling into the SUV’s open door and she slammed the door onto his legs and heard his muffled grunt.  She heard the click of a round being chambered and ducked. A melee of rounds tore across the side of the SUV and caught Nikita, his legs jerking as the bullets ripped through him.

Not sure where the attack had come from, Angel swung around to see the young mother holding an assault rifle. Maybe it was her frown or perhaps her flashing sapphire eyes, but suddenly she looked familiar.

“Move!” Natalya shouted, jerking the barrel to the left. Angel’s head twisted in that direction and she watched the elderly couple take pot shots at the Chernyy driver and associate.

She flung her head around, searching wildly for Gregor, but he was nowhere to be found. He had ducked back inside the coffee shop. There were muffled screams and shouts coming from inside. They mingled with the distant sound of sirens and became too much.

“Come on, Ahren

She moved, stumbling, her legs numb. Another burst of bullets passed so close she could have touched them had she but lifted her hand. Unconsciously, she grabbed for her sword then remembered she’d left it in DM’s room above the Stone Toad.

“Ahren! Catch!”

Suddenly her blade sailed through the air. Reaching up, she snagged it and unsnapped the leather thong, sliding the blade from its sheath and into Dimitri’s gut, opening him from groin to sternum. The big man slowly crumpled to the sidewalk like fall leaves, silent and soft, his arms thrown wide. She frowned, her gaze focusing on the strange circle tattoo on Dimitri’s wrist. It looked familiar.

Squealing tires made her look up. A glossy black tricked-out, restored Camaro pulled up beside Natalya, its big V-8 engine growling.

“Come on!” the driver shouted, a handsome man with a sun streaked mane of hair floating over his wide shoulders.

Angel stood motionless, unable to believe what she was seeing. She blinked, but nothing changed. She squinted looking at the man. Was he? Yes, he was. The driver was the lead singer from the Stone Toad. What was his name? Ethan? Yeah, that was it. Ethan… Dusk or something there abouts. The thought fled her mind when he lifted a gun and rested the barrel on the glass of the half lowered window. Pointed at her?

“Move, Ahren!” Natalya shouted.

 

Buy Links:

Amazon https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0153NQXQS

Other Retailers: http://www.cadencedenton.com/product/wetwork-dark-man-case-files-episode-3/

 

cadence-denton

 

Author Biography:

My love of books began in elementary school with Nancy Drew mysteries. By high school, I was immersed in Jane Austin and Georgette Heyer. So, naturally I write dark (and light) paranormal romance, gritty hitmen contemporaries, and time travel. A daughter of the South, I live on the banks of the Mississippi opposite the oldest settlement on the river where I share my writer’s cave with four dachshunds and a slightly ditzy cocker spaniel.

 

Visit my website for more information on all my series and upcoming projects. You may not find everything to your liking but you won’t be bored.
You can reach me at cadencedenton@cadencedenton.com

 

Sign up for Cadence’s newsletter at cadencedenton.com for the latest news, great giveaways, and sneak peeks at new projects.

 

Social Media Links:

Sign up for my newsletter at http://cadencedenton.com

Email: cadencedentonauthor@gmail.com

Website: http://www.cadencedenton.com

Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/cadencedentonauthor

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/CadenceDenton

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Independent Author Network: http://www.independentauthornetwork.com/cadence-denton.html

 

 

Meet David Gaughan @authorGaughan and Discover the Secret to Writing a Great Book! #FridayReads #SFF


DG_140618

 

I first met David Gaughan when he asked if I would read and review Aaden Bluestar – The Awakening several months ago. After reading it, I wanted to know more about the man behind the inspiring young adult science fiction adventure novel I’d just read. So, I asked David if he’d be willing to sit down for an interview. He said sure and I did a little jig. No, really. See, not only is David a prolific author but he shares the belief that each of us can make a difference in this world. So, without further ado, please welcome David to the POTL Blog. Take it away, David:

 

What is your writing process?

When I first started writing I found the story flowed better when I wrote longhand. I still have the handwritten original journal of my first attempt at writing, which was eventually published many years later as Star Bred Prophecy. However, my first published work was actually dictated and I find that method far more efficient and creative. I’ll sit comfortably in a chair with my feet up while I stare into space. I visualise the scene unfolding before me, like I’m watching a movie and I simply describe what I’m seeing. I’ve had feedback from several readers who say they feel like they’re watching a movie when they read my works.

 

How important are names to you in your books? Do you choose the names based on liking the way it sounds or the meaning?

Names are definitely important. In the original story that was published as “The Blue Star”, the key character’s son, who played a fairly minor role, was named Ajay. When I decided to rewrite the story from the boy’s perspective the name Ajay just didn’t seem right and it certainly didn’t go well with BlueStar. Even though it was based on the original Blue Star story, the tale took on a new energy and originality, so it seemed appropriate that a name change was needed. Aaden BlueStar emerged as an independent character in his own right. Even his name is spelt with double a, rather than the more commonly spelt Aiden.

 

Have you always liked to write?

My first urge to write was when I was only six years old. I was so enchanted by a children’s story book that I started copying it in long hand. At that young age the hand writing wasn’t that great, but when one of my brothers asked me what I was doing I immediately replied, “I’m writing a book”. It was almost as though I had an inkling of what I’d be doing in later years. Of course it was a huge joke to them, so I didn’t pick up the pen again until many years later. In my early twenties when I went on my first major overseas excursion and I started telling people about my experiences, I often got the comment, “you should write a book about it.” However, it wasn’t until years later I suddenly got the urge and I’ve been writing ever since.

 

Are you a plotter or a pantster?

I’ve always flown by the seat of my pants. There are a couple of occasions where I’ve plotted out the basic outline, but generally I find the story flows and takes on a life of its own when I sit back and watch it unfold. Even I’m surprised at where the story takes me sometimes. Although plotting the outline has helped on a couple of occasions, I find the creative forces flow better when I let it unfold as I go. As mentioned earlier, I tend to be like a spectator watching a movie. It can be quite fascinating at times. Of course, after the initial draft, that’s where the real work begins, with the honing of the story and the many rewrites.

 

Do you read your reviews? Do you respond to them, good or bad? Do you have any advice on how to deal with the bad?

I always read my reviews. I’ve learned not to take things too seriously because I’ve found that each reviewer has their own perspective and sometimes they contradict each other, where one reviewer sees an area where they take exception and another reviewer might praise that same part. It just goes to show that everyone has their personal likes and dislikes. However, if the same criticism arises with two or more reviewers, then it highlights something I need to consider for future work. In the end, I think any review is good, whether it’s high ranking or not. It’s all a learning process.

 

Is this your first book? How many books have you written prior (if any?)

I’ve written several books, ranging from fiction through to self help. Having had several friends and family affected by cancer, I researched and wrote an alternative treatment e-book called “Is there a Cure for Cancer”. On a similar vein I’ve written an e-book called the Wisdom Wellness Diet, again targeting self healing through healthy eating habits. With the increase in world weather extreme events I wrote a book called Self Sufficiency Survival, all of which are available via Amazon.com. However, my passion is with the creative writing and the first one published in hardcopy was The Blue Star, later rewritten from Aaden’s perspective and published as Aaden BlueStar – The Awakening.

 

What are you working on now? What is your next project?

What I’m working on now is something totally different. Besides book two and three of Aaden’s story, I’m researching the interpretation of ancient prophecies, some of which are predictions that have already happened and others that are yet to come. I’ve got the basic outline of the stories in the Aaden Bluestar series and they’ll need more work at some stage. However, my current priority is finishing the interpretation of the ancient prophecies, a project that will no doubt be rather controversial.

 

What is your biggest failure?

I don’t look at things so much as failures, but more as learning experiences. Rather than failure, I think my biggest disappointment was when my first published book The Blue Star never really took flight. It wasn’t until much later that I realised it was a bit ahead of it’s time and targeted at the wrong readership group. It wasn’t until years later that I realised the story needed to be told from Aaden’s perspective and targeted to the YA market. Regarding so-called failure, I take my cue from Thomas Edison who, when asked by a reporter how he felt about failing over a thousand times to make a light bulb, replied “I don’t look at it as failing a thousand times – more that I’ve discovered that many ways how not to make a light bulb.” Actually, there are many interpretations of what he actually said, but that’s the gist of his message.

 

Have you ever gotten into a fight?

Yes, when I was young, growing up on the rougher side of town. Although I did my best to stay clear of confrontation I did get ambushed on a few occasions. I learned early on when the adversary is much bigger, it’s better to resort to negotiation and reasoning, rather than try and fight against the odds. If anything, it made me more observant of situations and peoples’ behaviour, which came in handy in later years as a writer.

 

What do you want your tombstone to say?

I don’t really see the point of recording anything on a tombstone. I’ve left instructions for my ashes to be scattered at low tide on a beach – I’ve always received a lot of inspiration from walking the beach so I couldn’t think of a better place to end up. One thing you often see on a tombstone is the date of birth and the date of death, separated by a dash (-). I think it’s more important how you spend that dash while you’re alive rather than recording the dates on a tombstone. The only thing I’ll leave behind is my writing and I hope that will continue to inspire people long after I’m gone.

 

If you had a superpower, what would it be?

I think a great superpower would be having the ability to convince people to use their creative visualization energies solely for positive outcomes. Of course, doing so would override their freedom of choice, so I guess I won’t achieve that superpower until I’m advanced enough spiritually not to use it. In the meantime, I’ll concentrate on my writing to help people make that choice of their own free will.

 

Where is one place you want to visit that you haven’t been before?

I can think of a couple of star systems that would be interesting to visit, but unless our scientists make rapid progress in the short term with their propulsion systems, I guess the only way I’ll make that trip is to hitch a ride on a visiting spaceship.

 

Do you have any scars? What are they from?

I have a scar on my forehead that was more visible when I was young than it is now. I got it at the age of twelve when, riding my bike – I had a head-on collision with a truck. Needless to say, I came off second-best and I spent three days unconscious in hospital. I have another scar on my abdomen where I used black salve bloodroot paste to treat a skin cancer. I’ve always been a bit adventurous with trying alternatives and although I got a little nervous with the pain and the resulting crater it left behind when the plug came away, it healed up nicely, although it left a scar, mainly due to the size of the hole that had to heal. I think scars, both physical and emotional, are evidence of life trials that, if they don’t kill us, tend to make us stronger.

 

 Aaden Cover_titled_sm

 

Title: Aaden BlueStar – The Awakening

Author: David Gaughan

Genre: Sci-fi/Fantasy

Publisher: Astar Print

 

Book Blurb:

Never feeling quite at home in this world, an ordinary boy discovers his extraterrestrial heritage and superhuman powers when he is confronted by an alien foe. Discovering he is here on a time travel mission, his grip on reality is stretched when he realizes his father, who is running for President, is also not of this world. His best friend Fleur and his sister Tiffany are the only two he can confide in. Together with their extraterrestrial friends, they not only have to combat their alien foe, they also have to convince humanity to change their ways to prevent destroying their home through an environmental disaster. With climate change and extreme weather issues increasing in frequency and intensity, the clock is ticking!

 

Excerpt:

With the memories still fresh in his mind of the destruction of the alien craft in his trance the previous night, Aaden struggled to concentrate during the history lesson.

“Okay,” said Brian Masters, catching Aaden’s attention. “We’ve covered the main battle in today’s lesson, but not what led up to this. For your assignment, I want you to research the main events leading to this confrontation. I want that returned by tomorrow.”

‘No!’ Aaden thought in panic, staring at the teacher. ‘I need time to check out Tunguska.’

Masters, who had turned to clean the whiteboard, suddenly turned back and said, “No, you need time to check out Tunguska.”

As soon as he’d said the words, he immediately baulked. The shocked expression on his face showed that he’d had no intention of saying such a thing. Aaden was amazed that he’d repeated his very thoughts. The other students, who were all preparing to leave the room, stopped and looked at Masters.

“Tun … what?” said one of the students. “Is that a hint of what we need to research?”

“No!” said Masters quickly. “I … uh … I’m not sure where that came from.” He shook his head, as though to clear a confusing thought. “Ignore that. Have the assignment ready by tomorrow.”

The students went back to clearing their desks, preparing to leave. Aaden continued staring at Masters, amazed that the man had repeated the words he’d been thinking. He wasn’t sure whether it was some strange coincidence, so he decided to test it. He thought, ‘Make it two days for the assignment.’

Masters immediately said, “Make it two days for the assignment.”

Again, as soon as the words were out of his mouth, his jaw dropped with the surprise of having said them.

“Two days?” one of the students repeated. “Not tomorrow?”

Masters looked around the room, appearing somewhat stunned. The students had all stopped and were looking at him for confirmation.

“Yeesss …” he replied, looking strained. “You can have two days.”

Aaden struggled to conceal his glee. He thought, ‘On second thoughts, make it three days.’

Masters immediately repeated, “On second thoughts, make it three days.”

Astounded by what he’d just said, Masters immediately grabbed his satchel and fled the room. The students filed out after him, all smiles at having gained such leniency on the timing of their assignment.

Aaden was still coming to terms with what had just happened when Fleur joined him as they walked from the room.

“That’s a bonus,” she said. “Three days for the assignment – we only need one.”

“Hey!” said Aaden, raising his hands in mock submission. “Who’s complaining? Have you heard of Tunguska?”

Fleur gave a sideways glance. “Masters mentioned that – what is it?”

“Let’s go check it out in the library.”

“But Masters said it wasn’t anything to do with the assignment.”

Aaden’s eyes sparkled. “Let’s check it out anyway.”

With a shrug, she followed him to the library and watched as he did a search for ‘Tunguska event’ on the computer.

“1908!” Aaden gasped. “It happened over a century ago.”

Fleur leaned closer to the screen. “Who cares?”

Aaden shook his head. “I didn’t know it was so long ago. But it actually happened. I thought it was just a dream.”

Fleur pulled a face. “What?”

Aaden ignored her questioning stare. “Ah … nothing. Let’s see what they say about it.”

“Tunguska is in East Central Siberia,” said Fleur, reading the text. “This has nothing to do with our assignment. What’s so great about Tunguska?”

“I heard there was an explosion there.”

“So? There have been explosions all over the world throughout history.”

“This was a major blast … bigger than the atomic bomb that was dropped on Hiroshima.”

Fleur’s eyes widened. She looked closer at the screen. “No way! An atomic bomb in 1908?”

“Not an atomic bomb according to this info,” said Aaden, disappointed. “They think it was a meteorite.”

“There was no crater,” said Fleur, reading. “Meteorites are mainly rock, iron and nickel. Something that heavy would’ve made a massive crater. You reckon it was big enough for an explosion like an atom bomb. How can that be?”

“Because it wasn’t a meteorite,” said Aaden. The words were out before he could stop himself.

 

Buy Links:

Amazon US https://www.amazon.com/dp/B00RIMSS6G

Amazon CA https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B00RIMSS6G

Amazon UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B00RIMSS6G

Paperback https://www.createspace.com/6550223

 

Author Biography:

Born on the same day and month as Mark Twain, this Sagittarius has always been the explorer, not only in world travel pursuits but also alternative fringe subjects. Having climbed the Great Pyramid of Cheops (and getting arrested doing so), some of his other world experiences included riding camels in the Sahara Desert, white-water rafting at the top of the Ganges river, fire walking on a weekend retreat, hot air ballooning in the Cappadocia Region in Turkey and visiting ashrams in Northern India. Much of David’s overseas travel has been fueled by his keen interest in metaphysical subjects.

 

Social Media Links:

Twitter https://twitter.com/authorgaughan

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/13428937.David_Gaughan

Amazon Author Page https://www.amazon.com/-/e/B001KDZKOM

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/david.gaughan.967

 

 

#CoverReveal: It’s Not Your Journey (Second Edition) by @BekaLombardo #Memoir #KeepTalkingMH


INYJ 3D

Title  It’s Not Your Journey (Second Edition)

Author  Rebecca Lombardo

Genre  Memoir

Book Blurb 

Follow Rebecca Lombardo as she details two years of her twenty-five year battle with mental illness and what brought her to attempt to take her life in 2013. As she recovered from that attempt, she continued to write in the hopes that she would help purge some of the pain in her life. What she never expected was that she could help others as well. This book quite simply began as a blog and became a book; where she opens up about her real and raw emotions during those two years.

Set aside any preconceived notions you may have about what a book should be and put yourself in the shoes of someone struggling daily with a disease she could not control, despite the support of her loving husband. Even with the struggles, Rebecca attempts to offer the reader support and guidance as she begs them not to follow her path.

This book is the true story of one woman that fights a battle inside her mind every single day and attempts to document what she is feeling to help others while she helps herself. This is the second edition of It’s Not Your Journey.

At 44 years of age and happily married for 15 years, Rebecca can finally say that she is on her way to reaching her dream. Not only does she hope to help people that are struggling with depression, she hopes to help everyone realize that you are never too old to find your voice.

Book Trailer

 

Buy Links for Kindle:  

Amazon US https://www.amazon.com/Its-Your-Journey-Rebecca-Lombardo-ebook/dp/B014CEH4T4/

Amazon CA https://www.amazon.ca/Its-Your-Journey-Rebecca-Lombardo-ebook/dp/B014CEH4T4/

Amazon UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/Its-Your-Journey-Rebecca-Lombardo-ebook/dp/B014CEH4T4/

 

Click here for more information www.rebeccalombardo.com

 

Podcast: https://www.pscp.tv/BekaLombardo1/1vOxwgRMPDoxB

Rebecca Lombardo

Author Biography 

Rebecca Lombardo is 44 years old and has been happily married for 15 years. She lives in Michigan with her husband and cats. She is a published author, a Huffington Post blogger, and a podcast host. She was diagnosed with bipolar disorder at the age of 19. She has battled that as well as several other conditions for over 20 years. In 2013, she attempted suicide. Grateful that she survived, she decided to tell her story in the hopes that she could help others choose a different path.

Social Media Links

Website www.rebeccalombardo.com

Facebook www.facebook.com/notyourjourney

Twitter www.twitter.com/bekalombardo

Instagram www.instagram.com/bekalombardo

Talking Tales: Puppy’s Bubble by Speech Therapist Erica Graham is Delightful! #kidlit #books


Puppys Bubble

 

Title: Talking Tales: Puppy’s Bubble

 

Author: Erica Graham MS, CCC-SLP

 

Genre: Children’s Picture Book for Speech Development

 

Publisher: Skyrai Publishing

 

 

Book Blurb:

When Puppy wakes up from a nap, he sees a bubble. When it disappears, Puppy begins his long journey to find the missing bubble. Will Puppy find the bubble, or has it vanished forever? This engaging story is a fun way to read to little ones while promoting babbling, early words and language skills. It provides over 90 examples of some of the earliest developing sounds in their most common word positions including “p”, “b”, “m”, “n”, “d” and “h”. This book also includes tips to encourage speech development.

 

Vine Voice Review on Amazon:

Author/illustrator/ Speech Therapist Erica Graham graduated from Southern Illinois University of Edwardsville with her Master of Science Degree in Speech Language Pathology: she also holds her Certificate of Clinical Competence with the American Speech-Language Hearing Association. In addition to creating delightfully entertaining and fun books Erica focuses each book on a few sounds used in the English language. She also provides the illustrations.

The story revolves around a Puppy who one day sees a bubble that disappears and Puppy is off to find it – it is not with his daddy or his mama or his nana – but then Puppy encounters many bubbles and upon biting one it pops and so he tries another and it also pops until there are no more bubbles. Where did all the bubbles go? In Erica’s creative way she offers a fun way to read to little ones while promoting babbling, early words and language skills. It provides over 90 examples of some of the earliest developing sounds in their most common word positions including “p”, “b”, “m”, “n”, “d” and “h”. At first glace it seems the book is just a cute simple story, but when read to a child ages 0 – 3 it offers the opportunity to show words such as pop, bubble, mama, nana, daddy and happy in the atmosphere of an adventure in which youngsters can participate and learn!

The story itself is a fine little idea, a very fine lesson in phonetics and speech therapy that introduces a whole new level of importance to children’s books! Grady Harp, March 17

 

 

Buy Links:

Amazon US https://www.amazon.com/Talking-Tales-Puppys-Erica-Graham/dp/0997855533/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1489273970&sr=8-1&keywords=talking+tales+puppys+bubble

 

 Erica Graham

 

Author Biography:

Erica Graham graduated from Southern Illinois University of Edwardsville with her Master of Science Degree in Speech Language Pathology. She also holds her Certificate of Clinical Competence with the American Speech-Language Hearing Association. As a mother, Erica understands the difficulty parents have finding time to work on speech with their children. In her pursuit to create a fun easy way for therapists, children, and their parents to enhance speech development while promoting literacy, she has written a series of exciting children’s books. Each book focuses on a core sound used in the English language. Outside of writing and working as a Speech Language Pathologist, Erica enjoys spending time outdoors with her husband and daughters, volunteering with the youth group at church, and a good cup of tea.

 

 

Social Media Links:

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/EricaGrahamAuthor/

 

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16058804.Erica_Graham?from_search=true

 

The Viking’s Witch by @KWilkinsauthor is a #HistoricalRomance Gem! #books #amreading


VikingsWitch-cover

 

Title: The Viking’s Witch

Author: Kelli A. Wilkins

Genre: Historical Romance with Paranormal Elements

Publisher: Medallion Press

 

Blurb:

The Viking’s Witch

 

About to be burned at the stake by her fellow villagers, Odaria does what any betrayed witch facing certain death would do. She calls down a curse. Within seconds, rampaging Norsemen raid the village, capturing everyone except her.

 

But her reprieve is short-lived, and Odaria lands in the clutches of the Norse leader Rothgar. Can she remain true to herself and fight her growing attraction to this domineering man, or will she fall under his influence and be used for his ambitions?

 

After Rothgar witnesses Odaria’s powers firsthand, he strikes a bargain with her. The raven-haired beauty will use her magical abilities to help him with his quest in exchange for safe passage off the isle. But can this cunning woman be trusted, or is she using him to exact vengeance on her village?

 

Together they must fight bloodthirsty villagers, battle a mutinous band of Norsemen, find a missing Norse ship, and learn to trust each other . . . before time is up.

 

 

 

Excerpt:

Odaria scanned the cookroom and spotted a large table piled high with food. Brennan must have been planning a feast to celebrate her death. There would be plenty of meat and beer in the underground storage area. Men liked to eat. The Norsemen must be hungry from their long journey. Mayhap she could offer Rothgar a meal and strike a bargain with him.

 

“Are you hungry?” she asked, cocking her head. “I know where to find food and drink, wood for the fire, clean water, and—”

 

“Hvat ist das plass?”

 

She scowled at him, trying to decipher his words. A few seconds later, she understood. “This is a cookroom. Women in the village prepare meals here. See?” She waved at the iron pots, wooden pitchers, and other cookery items stacked on the shelves around the room. “They make food.”

 

Rothgar rolled his eyes. “Ja. Vat ist dat?” He pointed to the door behind her.

 

“The gathering hall. The men conduct business here. There is a room upstairs for sleeping. The larder, the food and drink, is below,” she said slowly, hoping he’d understand.

 

He nodded and inched closer to her. She tried to move away, but she had nowhere to go. Her back was pressed against the door.

 

Rothgar grinned and cupped her chin in his wide hand. Her heart fluttered. What was he doing? She stared into his eyes as he bowed his head. His rough beard grazed her cheek as his lips lightly brushed against hers.

 

Her entire body tingled, and a wave of dizziness washed over her. The room spun and seemed to grow dim. As everything faded, she had a clear vision of wrapping her arms around Rothgar’s neck and eagerly pulling him close for a kiss. Dizzy, she pitched forward.

 

Rothgar caught her and clutched her to his chest. “Shh,” he soothed, running his hand through her loose hair. “I will not harm you, Odaria.”

 

She relaxed against his broad chest, letting him support her weight. His touch was calming, and she felt safe here, leaning against Rothgar as she would rest against a thick tree. She inhaled deep. Rothgar didn’t stink of rancid sweat like the other men. He smelled clean and salty, like the sea. The scent comforted her. She could almost fall asleep where she stood.

 

Rothgar curled his arms around her ribs. She didn’t protest. In spite of everything, he hadn’t harmed her and he had saved her from that horrible Norseman in the red tunic.

 

After a few moments, her dizzy spell passed, and she gazed at him. “You are not like the others. You are different, Rothgar.”

 

He smiled. “Ja, in some ways. But fear not, Odaria. I will not share you with the others. I wish to have you all to myself.” Rothgar chuckled and winked at her. “Now, show me this food.”

 

“Aye.” She had no choice but to obey Rothgar’s wishes—for now.

 

 

Buy Links:

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/The-Vikings-Witch-ebook/dp/B008R5185G/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1375813873&sr=1-1&keywords=Kelli+A.+Wilkins

B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-vikings-witch-kelli-wilkins/1112359676?ean=9781605421698&itm=1&usri=kelli+wilkins

 

Other Platforms: http://medallionpress.com/books/the-vikings-witch/

 

Kelli Cliffs

 

Author Bio:

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Kelli A. Wilkins is an award-winning author who has published more than 100 short stories, 19 romance novels, and 5 non-fiction books. Her romances span many genres and heat levels.

 

Her trilogy of erotic romance novellas, Midsummer Night’s Delights, Midwinter Night’s Delights, and Ultimate Night’s Delights was released in spring 2017.

 

Loving a Wild Stranger was published in January 2017. This historical/pioneer romance is set in the wilds of the Michigan Territory and blends tender romance with adventure.

 

Kelli’s third Medallion Press romance, Lies, Love & Redemption was released in September 2016. This spicy historical western is set on the Nebraska prairie in 1877.

 

Her writing book, You Can Write—Really! A Beginner’s Guide to Writing Fiction is a fun and informative guide filled with writing exercises and helpful tips all authors can use.

 

Kelli posts on her Facebook author page: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorKelliWilkins and Twitter: www.Twitter.com/KWilkinsauthor.

 

She also writes a weekly blog: http://kelliwilkinsauthor.blogspot.com/.

 

Visit her website, www.KelliWilkins.com to learn more about all of her writings, read book excerpts, reviews, and more. Readers can sign up for her newsletter here: http://eepurl.com/HVQqb.

 

Social Media:

Here are a few links to find Kelli & her writings on the web

Amazon Author Page: www.amazon.com/author/kelliwilkins

Website: http://www.KelliWilkins.com

Blog: http://kelliwilkinsauthor.blogspot.com/

Newsletter sign-up: http://eepurl.com/HVQqb

Medallion Press Author Page: http://medallionpress.com/author/kelli-wilkins/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorKelliWilkins

Twitter: www.Twitter.com/KWilkinsauthor

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/1123678.Kelli_A_Wilkins

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/KWilkinsAuthor/

 

Author Spotlight: @RuthACasie and Her #ContemporaryRomance #books! #amreading #MFRWAuthor


 Ruth A Casie close

 

Storyteller  –  Blogger  –  Dreamer  – Creative Thinker – Good Sport  –  Teammate

 

You might be wondering what I’m about. Sit back and let me tell you.

 

I’m happiest when I’m telling stories either chatting with a group of friends or writing them down. I love to put my hero and heroine in tough situations and dare them to work it out—together, always together. They haven’t disappointed me.  Oh, they complain but in the end their love and relationships are stronger than ever.

 

I’ve been filling up my days and staying busy. While I keep tormenting my druid knight, I’m outlining a new series. The working title is the River of Time. It’s about an elite technology security officer, whose job is to eliminate time travelers, but he falls in love with a time traveling art appraiser and has to choose between his duty and his one chance for a timeless love. I love this story line because it lets me stretch my contemporary voice while working in historic time periods. I think this is the best of both worlds.

 

For most of you, my contemporary side will be a surprise. Here are five other things you probably don’t know about me:

 

I filled up my passport in one year.

I worked for a large financial institution, way before webinars and Skype. As a product manager I visited with clients and potential clients. All my clients were overseas. My sales support program took me to almost every European country (sorry not Liechtenstein) as well as a good many in Asia and South America. Have I got some great travel stories!

 

I have a medieval romance story about the seven sons of a seventh son.

Only one book is finished, and published. The Guardian’s Witch. The others are in various draft stages. The heroine of The Guardian’s Witch was born with veil over her face, a caul. Throughout history, caul bearers are believed to have a special purpose—to serve mankind, guide people to understand themselves and the world within which they live. Many cultures believe this makes the child “King by right” with special powers ranging from leadership abilities to natural healers and having greater insight. I was born with caul. I’m still trying to figure out my power.

 

I did a rap to “How Many Trucks Can a Tow Truck Tow If a Tow Truck Could Tow Trucks.”

I was a guest reader at my son’s first grade class (he’s out of college and on his own now). I rapped the book while my son was my boom box. We had a great time.

 

When I cook I dance.

Our kitchen isn’t large but ever since Paul (my DH) and took ballroom dance lessons I practice between the fridge, the stove, and the table. Caution, don’t twirl or dip while carrying dinner to the table. Ouch!

 

My Sudoku book is in the bathroom.

I’m not saying anything else about that.

 

 

Sign up for Ruth’s newsletter: http://eepurl.com/bau7Qv

 

Follow Ruth A. Casie on Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Ruth-A.-Casie/e/B005V0YEVU

 

Follow Ruth A. Casie on Bookbub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/ruth-a-casie

 

 

Escapes

 

Title Second Chance by the Sea (Timeless Escapes Box Set)

Author Ruth A. Casie

Genre Contemporary Romance

Publisher Timeless Scribes Publishing

 

Book Blurb

Married for ten years, a couple at odds find their marriage was never registered. Will an impending disaster be the final straw that breaks them up or will it rekindle their love and send them back to the altar for a second chance?

 

Excerpt

“El, you okay? You seem to be someplace else.” He didn’t let her hand go.

 

She glanced at his eyes. The ones that made every woman who met him melt. “I was thinking about the day we met.”

 

He put his arm around her and drew her close. “Ah, you mean the day I gallantly saved your life.”

 

She laughed and snuggled closer. “You did not. I was tired that’s all.”

 

“Please, let me think you needed me. There are so few instances.” He kissed her forehead and went over to the captain to help with their luggage.

 

The smile slid off her face. For a moment she felt… alone. Need him? If there was ever a time she needed him it was now, but they were set on a collision course and she had no idea of the outcome. She shook off the uneasy sensation and grabbed some of the small bags. Alan was on his cell phone.

 

Buy Links

Buy e-Book: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | iBooks | Kobo

Buy Print: Amazon

 

Author Biography

RUTH A. CASIE is a USA Today bestselling author of swashbuckling action-adventure time-travel romance about strong empowered women and the men who deserve them, endearing flaws and all. Her Druid Knight novels have both finaled in the NJRW Golden Leaf contest. The Guardian’s Witch, part of the Stelton Legacy series was a Reader’s Crown Finalist. Ruth also writes contemporary romance in the Havenport series with enough action to keep you turning pages. Ruth lives in New Jersey with her husband, three empty bedrooms and a growing number of incomplete counted cross-stitch projects. Before she started writing time travel romance, she was a speech therapist, international bank product and marketing manager, but her favorite job is the one she’s doing now—writing time travel romance. For more information, please visit www.RuthACasie.com or visit her on Facebook, @RuthACasie, Twitter, @RuthACasie, or Pinterest RuthACasie.

 

Social Media Links

Website: http:// www.ruthacasie.com

Personal Blog:  http://www.ruthacasie.blogspot.com

Google+ https://plus.google.com/+RuthSeitelman

Twitter:  http://www.twitter.com/RuthACasie

FB Author Page: http://www.facebook.com/RuthACasie

LinkedIn: http://www.linkedin.com/pub/ruth-seitelman/6/6b7/964

Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/ruthacasie/

Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4792909.Ruth_A_Casie

 

Vows

 

Title Forsaking All Others (Timeless Vows Box Set)

Author Ruth A. Casie

Genre Contemporary Romance

Publisher Timeless Scribes Publishing

 

Book Blurb

Morgan and Margot are wild  about  each  other.  But early on in their  relationship,  Morgan  was  focused  on establishing himself with one of New York’s most prestigious law firms and Margot was busy making a name for herself in the antiques business. For the past ten years, commitment was not something either of them wanted.

 

A visit to Morgan’s brother and sister-in-law changes both their lives. Now it seems all the two of them can think of is  making a commitment—they  just don’t know how to tell each other. They are both afraid of driving the other away.

 

Morgan keeps  reminding  Margot  she  doesn’t  want  a  commitment,  hoping  she’s  changed  her  mind.  Margot thinks Morgan needs to see someone else interested in her to force him into action.

 

In truth, all they need to do is talk to each other and say what’s in their hearts. Will they come to their senses or deny the loving relationship they both desire?

 

Excerpt

With her back to the door, she scanned the crowded bachelor/bachelorette party to see if Morgan had returned. He’d stepped out an hour ago. Business, he’d said. Aren’t you glad we’re not doing this? She thought about his words from earlier in the day. No, damn it. This is what she wanted. Do you hear me, Morgan Stuart? I. Want. Forever.

 

The DJ had almost everyone—including every woman present—doing a line dance on the packed dance floor. She had a clear view of the bar where the men were hanging out, gawking and making comments while they had their drinks. Nope, he wasn’t there, either. She was about to give up when a movement by the nest of cocktail tables captured her attention.

 

Morgan raised his bottle of beer in salute. “And I only want forever with you,” she murmured. She ran her hands down her snug black dress—making sure it clung in all the right places—then maneuvered across the crowded room, eager to get to him. She wanted to see if his eyes smoldered when he looked at her. As soon as she reached him she realized she needed more courage. She removed the bottle from his hand and took a swallow.

 

“Whoa. You don’t like beer. Remember?”  Ignoring his outstretched hand, she took another gulp and tried not to screw up her face. The stuff was vile, but she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.

 

Those little pink things—the ones with vodka, vermouth and strawberries that she’d had all afternoon—slid down so easily, along with the shots she’d had a few minutes ago with the girls in the bridal party. At the moment, she didn’t care what she drank. Something wet and mind numbing was what she wanted.

 

Maybe the beer would steady the room and stop it from spinning. No, the dancers were a blur and now her stomach was complaining.

 

Since the beer made her stomach queasier, she placed her hands on the back of the chair and held on for dear life. A sideways glimpse was all she needed to see Morgan shaking his head. “You’re going to regret this in the morning,”  he said, bending close to her. She closed her eyes and tried to control a shudder as his low voice and warm breath bathed her ear. She turned to face him, his lips a kiss away and his eyes…his eyes—

 

Buy Links

Buy e-Book: Amazon | Barnes & Noble | iBooks | Kobo

Buy Print: Amazon

 

 

Meet Lucia Davis and her Paranormal Mystery! #AuthorInterview #TuesdayBookBlog #books


Author Interview graphic

 

I love discovering new-to-me authors. I’m always on the lookout for fresh voices in publishing and when I first heard about Lucia Davis, I was intrigued. Her paranormal short story, The Baby on the Back Porch, is on my to-be-read bookshelf and when I asked for an interview, she agreed. So, please give a warm welcome to Lucia to the POTL blog and be sure to check out her debut novella. Take it away, Lucia:

 

What book do you wish you could have written?

The Alchemist by Paulo Coelho, I love how he tells a beautiful story, but it has such a deeper meaning.

 

Just as your books inspire authors, what authors have inspired you?

Gosh, I hope my books inspire authors. 🙂

 

 I think for me, women like Jane Austen or the Brontë sisters, who wrote in a time when women were not empowered within society, or even expected to write, are a great inspiration. They faced so much more scrutiny; to me they were in fact very brave women.

 

Writing is a creative process and it opens the door to criticism —which can be painful. Dealing with that can be difficult. So, when I need a little extra courage, I think of those women from the past.

 

Have you always liked to write?

Yes, but I didn’t have much time for in the past. I would always make up stories in my head though. It wasn’t until I decided to be more at home with the kids, that I had more time and started to write. It was quite spontaneous and felt very natural.

 

Do you read your reviews? Do you respond to them, good or bad? Do you have any advice on how to deal with the bad?

I read them. I typically don’t respond, although I very much appreciate reviews. I feel I should not interfere with the process of reviewing. It’s a little different if I know the reviewer is an author, I may respond with a thank you, as a courtesy. Bad reviews; if you look at books that are generally considered excellent or have received tons of great publicity, there are always people who do not like them. Books are personal. It’s a matter of taste. You can’t win them all.

 

What is your least favorite part of the publishing / writing process?

Promoting.

 

Is this your first book? How many books have you written prior (if any?)

Yes, but there is a sequel out now as well, The Charm of Lost Chances, in which Sara returns to Dunnhill and is faced with a new mystery.

 

What are you working on now? What is your next project?

Not sure, I am thinking about writing a third and last sequel in the Dunnhill Series, and I am always working on some shorts and flash fiction for fun. We are expecting our third child, so we’ll see how it goes. I may be up to my elbows in diapers for a while…

 

Where is one place you want to visit that you haven’t been before?

So many. Seriously. And I have traveled a lot. But high on my list are Australia and New Zealand, I would love to visit those countries.

 

If you were an animal, what would you be and why?

That’s a hard question. Otters always seem to have a lot of fun…or else a bird? Flying would be neat.

 

What’s on your bucket list (things to do before you die)?

Travel more 🙂

 

What were you like as a child? Your favorite toy?

I was a bit of a tom boy. We had woods in our back yard and I was always out and about. My favorite toy? My imagination. I could play for hours lost in my own world. That and books (of course).

 

What do you dream? Do you have any recurring dreams/nightmares?

Sara, my books’ protagonist has dreams, but I really don’t dream all that crazy. I dream a bit more now that I am pregnant, but hardly ever remember them when I wake up. Haven’t dreamed yet I am giving birth to puppies, which is a good thing.

 

 Thebabyonthebackporch

 

Title: The Baby on the Back Porch

Author: Lucia N Davis

Genre: Paranormal, Mystery Novella

Publisher: Orange Vine Publishing

 

Book Blurb:

An old cabin, hidden in the forests of the Northern Cascades, has been a silent witness to mysterious events long forgotten. But sometimes the past has a way of resurfacing…

In search of solace after a personal tragedy, Sara Eriksson exchanges vibrant San Francisco for a small mountain village. Initially, everything at the cabin is just as she imagined: Her new surroundings are breathtaking, and her landlord, David, is kind and helpful. As soon as she’s left alone, however, Sara finds her new home is not quite as peaceful as she’d thought. First, she has an unwanted visitor. Then, an unsettling dream…

Sara pursues the leads presented to her, but she can’t solve the mystery on her own. It takes both Sara and David to uncover the truth about the past—and discover a connection they never expected.

 

 

Excerpt:

“Do you need anything else, Ms. Eriksson?” Sara’s new landlord, David Sanders, scrutinized her with an amused expression. He had just shown her the cabin and explained the specifics, after which she had signed the rental agreement. Sara guessed he was in his early thirties. He was quite good-looking in a rugged sort of way, with his light brown hair, stubble, and outdoorsy clothing.

 

It was obvious to Sara that David thought her to be completely out of place in this cabin. She had perhaps overdressed a little for the occasion, wearing a designer blue sweater dress that complimented her deep blue eyes, leggings, and high-heeled brown boots, making her even taller than normal. She had to admit she did not look like she belonged in this rural mountain village. Her eyes glanced over David’s sturdy boots; the thought of donning similar footwear generated a surprisingly deep yearning for her beloved San Francisco.

 

“No, that will be all, Mr. Sanders. Thank you for your help,” she said coolly.

 

“You’re very welcome. Please, call me David. And don’t hesitate to call if you run into any issues with the house.”

 

“I won’t. Run into any issues, I mean. And it’s Sara.” She smiled politely.

 

“Sara it is. Have a nice day, Sara.” And with a quick wave he walked out the door.

 

After the roar of his pickup truck had died away, Sara busied herself with the coffeemaker. It was still early and she was due for her caffeine fix. Here she was, Sara Eriksson, twenty-eight years old, in the middle of the Northern Cascades, far away from all the big city noises and distractions, and most importantly, anything that might trigger painful memories. She was rather pleased with the little cabin she had found in this charming old mining village known as Dunnhill. It was built in the 1950s, but had been recently renovated and outfitted with everything she needed. There was no Internet connection, but then, she’d come here to write. Quiet and seclusion were what she had been looking for. Granted, there was a larger resort village close by, where she could access recreation and luxury at her leisure. Dunnhill, however, was just far enough away to leave her little cabin secluded on the outskirts of the village proper, quite by itself.

 

She pulled her wavy blond hair in a ponytail, poured herself a cup of the fresh coffee, and went to the solid wooden desk by the window overlooking the back yard. It seemed like an excellent spot for writing. She unpacked her computer and notebook and sat down behind the desk, admiring the view. The patch of grass outside glistened with drops of dew, the sun transforming it into a magical sparkling carpet. Some wildflowers were already blooming, supplying dabs of color amidst the fresh green. Around the clearing, solemn evergreen trees towered, swaying lightly in the breeze. The sunlight filtering through their feathery branches was playful, always moving, creating a dance of shadow and light. Floating dust particles reflected by the sun created the illusion of warmth, and deceivingly suggested the crisp morning air had already dissipated.

 

Sara wrinkled her nose and took a purposeful whiff of her coffee. The cabin had not seen frequent use, judging by the musty smell that lingered throughout the house. She opened the window, and along with the fresh air, the sounds of the back yard flooded in. Chirping birds resonantly celebrated the spring. Somewhere in the distance, a creek was softly murmuring. She sighed. This was perfect! As she took it all in, the thought appeared before she even noticed it forming.

 

Dad would have loved to photograph this.

 

A sharp pang gripped her chest. She rubbed her eyes, suddenly feeling drained. She was so tired of grieving. How long before these uninvited thoughts stopped making her so sad?

She opened her computer to take her mind off her sorrow; emptying her suitcase would have to wait. Soon she was absorbed in her new project, typing on and off while occasionally pausing to sip her coffee. Oblivious to her surroundings, she failed to notice when the birds abruptly stopped chattering and everything grew eerily quiet.

 

 

Buy Links:

Amazon https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01I24QO6Y

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/30973910-the-baby-on-the-back-porch

 

Author Biography:

Lucia Davis is the author of The Dunnhill Series 1 and 2. The Baby on the Back Porch, a novelette, introduces the reader to Sara Eriksson and explains how she ends up in Dunnhill, leading to the mysterious things happening at her new cabin. In the novella The Charm of Lost Chances, Sara returns to Dunnhill, where again, she is faced with a new mystery from the past.

 

Lucia Davis lives in Michigan with her husband and two children. She loves traveling and has visited many countries over the years, experiencing different cultures and landscapes. In her spare time, she enjoys reading, hiking and doing yoga.

 

Social Media Links:

Website: www.luciadavis.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Lucia-N-Davis-477368475766993/

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/LuciaNDavis

 

Shifters & Glyphs (#FairyTales of the Magicorum #2) by @CB_Bauer #YA #Paranormal


Shifters & Glyphs
Christina Bauer
(Fairy Tales of the Magicorum, #2)
Published by: Monster House Books
Publication date: October 30th 2018
Genres: Paranormal, Young Adult

After being raised by the meanest fairies in the history of ever, Bryar Rose is now free to live her own life. For the first time, she’s attending West Lake Prep, a regular high school. Well, mostly regular. Some students are actually hidden members of the Magicorum. In other words, they’re really wizards, fairies, or shifters. Bry doesn’t mind, though. She’s thrilled to enjoy all the new experiences of being around normal kids her age, from locker pranks to lunchtime mystery meat. Everything is going along great, except for one thing.

 

Bry’s dreams about the pyramids of Egypt have gotten darker and more sinister. Every night, she sees her new man Knox and her best friend Elle in danger.

 

With no other choice, Bry plans to leave school to explore the pyramids on own. But her new man Knox discovers the scheme and is having none of it. He wants to stay by her side, no matter what. It’s a good thing too, because Bry must solve the mystery of her attraction to the pyramids and soon. Otherwise, it could cost the lives of those she loves most…and that means not only Knox, but also her best friend Elle.

 

Goodreads / Amazon / Kobo

 

Author Bio:

 

Christina Bauer knows how to tell stories about kick-ass women. In her best selling Angelbound series, the heroine is a part-demon girl who loves to fight in Purgatory’s Arena and falls in love with a part-angel prince. This young adult best seller has driven more than 500,000 ebook downloads and 9,000 reviews on Goodreads and retailers. It is now available as an audiobook on Audible and iTunes.

 

Bauer has also told the story of the Women’s March on Washington by leading PR efforts for the Massachusetts Chapter. Her pre-event press release—the only one sent out on a major wire service—resulted in more than 19,000 global impressions and redistribution by over 350 different media entities including the Associated Press.

 

Christina graduated from Syracuse University’s Newhouse School with BA’s in English along with Television, Radio, and Film Production. She lives in Newton, MA with her husband, son, and semi-insane golden retriever, Ruby.

 

Be the first to know about new releases from Christina by signing up for her newsletter: http://tinyurl.com/CBupdates

 

Website / Blog / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram

 

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Of Glitter and Gold: A Canary Club Anthology by @AuthorSherry #historicalfiction #YA


Of Glitter and Gold: A Canary Club Anthology
Sherry D. Ficklin
Published by: Clean Teen Publishing
Publication date: March 27th 2017
Genres: Historical, Young Adult

Set during the flamboyant anything-goes era of 1920’s America, these three tales are filled with intriguing characters and rich imagery from the time period—with flappers, jazz music, gangsters, and lavish wealth. Escape to a different decade today with the compelling stories of the Canary Club Anthology.

 

Novelette 1- Gilded Cage

Masie, the flaxen-haired daughter of notorious bootlegger Dutch Schultz, returns home from boarding school to find her family in crisis. Her mother is dangerously unstable, her father’s empire is on the brink of ruin, and the boy she once loved has become a ruthless killer for hire. To keep her family’s dangerous secrets, Masie is forced into a lie that will change the course of her future—and leave her trapped in a gilded cage of her own making.

 

Novelette 2- All That Glitters

A dame with brains, moxie, and killer curves, June West isn’t your average flapper. She’s managed to endear herself to the son of one of the most powerful gangsters in New York, earning herself a spot in the limelight that she’s always longed for. With the infamous playboy at her side, June has become accustomed to living the high life. Lavish parties, expensive clothes, sparkling jewels—nothing is beyond her reach. But when her carefully woven web of lies finally catches up with her, she must make an impossible choice… come clean about her past and risk losing everything, or find a way to bury her demons—once and for all.

 

Novelette 3 – Nothing Gold

Dickey has been down on his luck since the day he was born. Flat broke and sick of being looked down on, he meets young socialite Lillian at a wild party. The connection is like a strike of lightning. From a wealthy New York family, this debutante is everything he’s been told he can never have—and the only thing he wants. Determined to win her, he knows the only way to get her parents approval is with cold hard cash. So when a shot at the biggest score of his life comes around, he just can’t refuse…

 

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NOTHING GOLD EXCERPT:

It’s easier than I imagined to sneak into the party. The music is so loud and the crowd so enormous that no one sees me wind my way through the shrubs on the outskirts. The massive estate is far enough away from the city that I had to hitch a ride to get here, and I’ll have to time my exit just right to make the train back to Manhattan.

Brushing off my secondhand suit coat, I enter the party via the back patio. A wide pool is filled with people, most still in their fancy evening wear. My eyes slide past them, searching for the one person at this shindig that I know. I scan past butlers with white gloves holding silver trays covered in champagne glasses, past gleeful dames in short skirts with blood-red lips, and past gents in their glad rags I can tell with one glance cost more dough than I make in a year working at the mill.

When I finally see him, his pinstripe suit, matching fedora, and red pocket square, he’s standing atop the massive staircase on the ledge overlooking the party. Deacon Brewer, the reason I’m here tonight. His hands are stuffed in the pockets of his trousers as he chats up a fella I don’t recognize, along with the dame hanging off his arm. Plastering on an easy grin, I wind my way through the people, helping myself to a glass of bubbly as I head for the stairs. The stone steps are covered in gold confetti, the whole place practically dripping with it. Long, red velvet drapes hang from arched windows, and leafless branches painted gold and draped with crystal beads sit in tall vases in every corner. Nothing has been left un-gilded.

I shake my head at the audacity. Might as well have a neon sign—someone, please rob the joint.

Deacon sees me coming and dismisses himself from his conversation, welcoming me with an open hand.

“Dickey Lewis, glad you could make it, boy,” he offers warmly.

As if I had a choice.

“Of course, Mr. Brewer,” I respond with more warmth than I feel. Truth is that I’m in deep to Deacon after a few bad bets at his club last month, and he opted to make me work it off rather than take it outta my hide. I suppose that makes him clever, but I can’t help the gnawing feeling that this is a debt I may never fully repay. “What’s the score?” I ask, lowering my voice.

Draping an arm across my shoulders, he walks me through the glass doors and into the house. Still crammed with people drinking, dancing, and generally wrecking the joint, he pulls a cigar from his vest pocket with his free hand.

“Upstairs in the den is a lovely Monet, behind which is a very large safe. Cash, some baubles, and a bankbook are inside. I don’t care about the rest; you take what you need. But the bankbook needs to find its way into my hands tomorrow morning by eight am.”

I take a deep breath, rolling my tongue over my teeth before answering, “How am I supposed to get into the safe?”

He barks a deep laugh, slapping me on the back. “Guess you’ll have to get a little creative. Just get in, get out, and don’t let nobody see ya, got it?”

All I can do is nod and watch him swagger away. Sure, I’ve boosted loot before, but always simple jobs, smash and grabs. Nothing like this. What have I gotten myself into this time?

Still, whatever else is in there is mine for the taking, I tell myself. Could be a big pay day, judging by the looks of the place.

I wander casually through the house, trying to look as if I belong while also counting the number of cops and guards watching the area. It’s not as many as I expected. I grab a dark-haired dame by the waist, offering her a charming smile and asking for a dance. We Charleston together for two songs, finally stopping to imbibe more champagne. When I ‘accidently’ stumble into her, she spills the contents of her glass on my jacket, fumbling a wide-eyed apology.

Waving her off with a smile, I hand her my glass, “You take this, and I’ll go find a place to wash up.”

“You could always take a dip in the pool, honey,” she says, batting her eyelashes.

Beside her, a gentleman points up a secondary set of stairs near the front door. “Washroom is up there, I think.”

I mutter a thanks and a promise to return, then make my way up the stairs, continuing to stumble around as if drunk, occasionally opening a door to find a couple necking or a room full of folks smoking the Indian hop in long pipes.

Finally, the thumping of the music fading below me, I make my way to the library. Beyond that, I find the only locked door on the entire floor. Digging into my pocket, I pull out my lock kit, a simple flattened iron jimmy and a hooked pick. Sliding both in the lock, I slide them back and forth, listening for the mechanism inside to release. It doesn’t take long and the door springs open, allowing me to step inside and close it quickly behind me. It’s dark except for the glow of a single lamp atop a massive oak desk, behind which is a tall arched window overlooking the front of the estate. From this spot, I can see the cars lined up along the circular drive, partygoers coming and going in wild abandon. Pulling the pocket watch from my vest, I wipe my fingers across the cracked glass face, checking the time. Only thirty minutes until the train. If I miss it, it’ll be two hours before the next one. Not the end of the world, unless someone notices the lift before I’m gone. That’s a long time to stick around with a pocket fulla stolen goods.

I glance around me, the blood chilling in my veins. Every wall except the one with the window is covered in framed paintings. And I have no idea which one is a Monet.

Scrambling, I begin lifting each, checking the wall behind for any sign of the safe. Finally, on the opposite wall from where I started, I find it. Carefully lifting the heavy canvas free, I set it on the floor and turn my attention to the wall safe. It’s not large, about the size of a bread box with a spinning combination dial in the center. Unsure what else to do, I pull the pocket knife free from my trousers and flick it open, trying to wedge it between the door and the frame. As soon as I do, I know it’s going to be futile. The thing is heavy steel; no way my knife is gonna bust it open. Putting it away, I begin spinning the dial at random, praying I’ll get lucky.

I’m so flustered I don’t hear the door open or the footsteps from behind me until it’s too late.

“It’s my birthday,” a voice offers, making me spin, hands balled into fists to fight my way free from the room.

The dame is tall, her garnet-red hair rolled into bouncy curls and pinned in a messy heap at the back of her neck. Her dress is green, almost the same color as her eyes, and it hugs her slender frame as if it were a second skin. Even the long strings of pearls twined around her neck seems completely natural, not just a decoration but an extension of her. I take a breath, blinking, momentarily stunned. She drapes one hand on her hip, her entire body listing to the side as she points to the safe.

“The combination,” she repeats. “It’s my birthday.”

Finally recovering my voice, I stammer. “I was, uh, just…”

The corners of her mouth turn upward. “Breaking into my father’s safe?”

I don’t know what to say. I feel her in the room, the way one might feel the air change right before a storm, a heaviness that settles in, leaving my soul with a sense of foreboding. My instincts battle inside me. Do I grab her and tie her to a chair, or do I flee? The weight of her gaze makes it impossible to think clearly.

“Relax,” she says, raising a glass I hadn’t noticed her holding to her lips and taking a slow drink. “I’m not calling the guards if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Oh? You’re just gonna let me crack this safe and walk away with whatever’s inside?”

She shrugs. “It’s not my money. What do I care?”

I lick my lips, sizing her up. A spoiled little rich girl who wants to stick it to Daddy. I’ve seen a few of those in my day. I can work with this—if I can get my head back on straight. It’s not like me to get so flustered by a dame, not even a high-quality one like this.

“Besides…” She sets the glass on the desk and saunters toward me. “It’s not like we don’t have enough.”

I catch a hint of her perfume in the air when she brushes by me, lavender and something else I can’t quite place. Taking the dial in her hand, she spins the knob until the door finally clicks, then she steps back, giving me a go-ahead gesture.

I hesitate, flicking glances at the bare skin where her neck meets her shoulder, at the creamy whiteness of her skin, before settling my eyes on her face. “What’s your name, doll?”

She looks down, sheepishly at first, but then raises just her eyes to look at me with an expression of bold defiance. “I’ll tell you mine if you tell me yours.”

I swallow, considering her offer. She’s already gotten a good look at me, enough to rat me out to the cops. The look on her face is one of challenge, I realize. She’s daring me to trust her.

“Dickey,” I say, pulling the flat cap off my head and holding it over my heart as I bow to her. “Dickey Lewis, at your service, Miss?”

“Lillian Rose Duke,” she answers. “But my friends call me Lilly.”

Replacing my hat, I grab the safe handle and twist, pulling open the heavy door. Grabbing a large wooden box first, I hold it out to her. Moving back, I grab two stacks of fresh bills and stuff them in the pockets of my suitcoat. Finding the bankbook last, I tuck it into the back of my pants before pulling my shirt and jacket over it.

I spin to Lilly, watching as she upends the box, spilling jewelry onto the desk in a pile. She picks through it, finally just scooping it all into her hand and sauntering over to me. Getting so close I feel the warmth of her, she grabs the lapel of my jacket, sliding the gold and stones into the inside pocket.

“Give these to your girl, Dickey Lewis.”

She releases my lapel, but doesn’t step away. Instead, she leans forward. Thinking she’s going to kiss me, I straighten in anticipation, but she just trails her fingers along my collar until she’s cupping the back of my neck.

“I ain’t got no girl,” I admit, my heart pounding behind my ribs.

“Well, isn’t that a shame?” she says, her lips a hair’s breadth from mine.

Unable to resist, I close the final distance between us, clutching her by the waist as I urge her lips to mine. I’ve never tasted gold before, but I imagine this is what it would be like—champagne, honey, and nerves of steel. When she finally pulls away, I’m gasping. Tugging tugs the white linen handkerchief from my pocket, she wipes my face, then hers, of her smeared lipstick before returning the hankie to its place.

“I hope to see you around, Dickey Lewis.”

With that, she spins on her heel and heads for the door, listening for a moment before pulling it open and stepping out. The room is instantly colder, the air thinner. I can finally breathe, can think.

As I slink from the party and disappear into the shadows, making my way down the street to the train station, I can’t force the sight of her from my mind, or the taste of her from my lips.

Even if it takes every penny in my pocket and every breath in my body, I will see Lillian Rose Duke again.

 

 

Author Bio:

 

Sherry D. Ficklin is a full time writer from Colorado where she lives with her husband, four kids, two dogs, and a fluctuating number of chickens and house guests. A former military brat, she loves to travel and meet new people. She can often be found browsing her local bookstore with a large white hot chocolate in one hand and a towering stack of books in the other. That is, unless she’s on deadline at which time she, like the Loch Ness monster, is only seen in blurry photographs.

 

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#ReleaseDay: Unholy Alliance by @RowlandKathleen #Romanticsuspense #ASMSG #MFRWAuthor


UnholyAlliancebyKathleenRowland200

 

Title: Unholy Alliance

Author: Kathleen Rowland

Genre: Romantic Suspense

Publisher: Tirgearr Publishing

 

Book Blurb:

A decade ago, Tori Rourke, and her cousin, Vivienne, ran from the Irish mob after witnessing a brutal murder. Tori was framed by the mob, and while she served time in prison, she worried that the killer, Seamus McGinn, had kidnapped her missing cousin.

Attorney Grady D. Fletcher, defender of the wrongly condemned, appeals Tori’s case and wins her release. Now, going by Victoria Morningstar, she runs a food truck from a seedy waterfront neighborhood, hoping to find her cousin’s kidnapper.

When Grady agrees to defend a new client, Samuel Peterson, who’s been accused of beating to death the wife of a noted professor, the evidence mounts. The professor is missing, as well as his laptop that contains data dangerous to national security.

And Seamus McGinn is back, and rumors of a massive annihilation is about to begin. As they race to assist the FBI, the bonds between Grady and Tori are about to be tested. It becomes clear Grady and Tori are falling fast for each other, but what to do about it is a different story. He’s a divorced dad who wants more time with his kid. She brings danger to his front door.

Grady has questions of his own; Is Vivienne at the center of the mob’s operation? How much will it cost Tori before she learns the truth? All Grady knows is the biggest danger is the one standing right behind you.

 

Excerpt:

“Don’t let the anxiety of freedom consume you.”  Attorney Grady Donahue Fletcher clenched his teeth and rehearsed what he’d say to his client, Victoria Morningstar. He’d won her appeal and drove to pick her up at Gladstone Penitentiary. “At least you won’t be placed in solitary.” That was worse.

 

Six months earlier Grady had phoned a reporter at the Los Angeles Globe. “Drew Barker. Grady Fletcher here.”

 

“Ah, the lawyer. Calling about a tip?”

 

“I am. Here’s something you can investigate. Tori Morningstar, did she murder Irene Brennan?”

 

“I wrote that story many years back,” the journalist had said. “I assume you have new discoveries.”

 

“Fraud, illegal testimony. Do you want the story first?” A second passed. “Otherwise, I’ll call the Orange County Guardian.”

 

“Okay, okay. We want it.”

 

Three days later Grady had a hand in writing the first article in Drew Barker’s column. “The public labeled Tori Morningstar as an undesirable. Not black and poor, but disfavored, accused, incarcerated, and wrongly condemned. Her cellphone has been recovered. Her call to 911 identified her voice and substantiated screams of the victim in the background. Could she have beaten someone while speaking to dispatch at the same time?”

 

The reporter had written the second article. “People who get their ideas about criminal lawyers from TV probably would be disappointed in Grady Fletcher. He lacks flash but stands up straight, his posture neither ramrod nor slouched. He doesn’t smoke, doesn’t wear thousand dollar suits. His voice is soft and low, one of his assets. He speaks truth with a voice inviting confidences.”

 

As nice as that was, Grady’s stomach cramped over pressure and strain from Drew Barker’s final article with the headline, Tori Morningstar, Released Today. Picked up by the online service, Newser, KTLA, and CBS Los Angeles, they planned to broadcast his arrival to escort his client from Gladstone.

 

Tori’s decade-long prison sentence ended today but with a sobering fear over tomorrow.

 

When was a July morning this hot? Grady balanced her release papers on his lap as he rolled up one sleeve then the other while gripping the damp steering wheel. Sweat blossomed on his throbbing forehead, wrapped like a python’s grip. He adjusted the dial for the AC and embraced the challenge of helping another client get back on track. Embrace and conquer. Or at least sound like it.

 

 

Buy Links:

http://www.tirgearrpublishing.com/authors/Rowland_Kathleen/unholy-alliance.htm

 

Kathy_July

 

Author Biography:

Book Buyers Best finalist Kathleen Rowland is devoted to giving her readers fast-paced, high-stakes suspense with a sizzling love story sure to melt their hearts.  Writing a romantic suspense Irish American series for Tirgearr Publishing, Deadly Alliance is followed by Unholy Alliance with a release date of March 29, 2017.  Keep an icy drink handy while reading these hot stories.

 

Kathleen used to write computer programs but now writes novels.   She grew up in Iowa where she caught lightning bugs, ran barefoot, and raced her sailboat on Lake Okoboji.  Now she wears flip-flops and sails with her husband, Gerry, on Newport Harbor but wishes there were lightning bugs in California.

 

Kathleen exists happily with her witty CPA husband, Gerry, in their 70’s poolside retreat in Southern California where she adores time spent with visiting grandchildren, dogs, and neighbors.  While proud of their five children who’ve flown the coop, she appreciates the luxury of time to write.  If you’d enjoy news,  sign up for Kathleen’s newsletter at http://www.kathleenrowland.com/

 

Social Media Links:

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/786656.Kathleen_Rowland

Amazon Author Page http://www.amazon.com/Kathleen-Rowland/e/B007RYMF7S/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1450835163&sr=1-2-ent

Twitter https://twitter.com/rowlandkathleen

Website https://kathleenrowland.wordpress.com/

Blog http://www.kathleenrowland.blogspot.com

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/romanticsuspense.kathleenrowland/

 

The Billionaire Shifter’s Curvy Match by @dianaseerebooks #paranormal #romance #shifter




 

The Billionaire Shifter’s Curvy Match
Diana Seere
(Billionaire Shifters Club #1)
Publication date: September 13th 2016
Genres: Adult, Paranormal

 

When Lilah Murphy started serving drinks at the exclusive Platinum Club, she never expected she would be on the menu.

 

Biotech billionaire Gavin Stanton had one taste of the new, curvy server and his craving could never be satisfied until he had her fully. Completely.

 

Eternally.

 

Fate brought them together, but a centuries-old secret could tear them apart, for the Stanton family holds a shifter legacy that no human has ever threatened.

 

Until now.

 

Gavin Stanton is the billionaire CEO of a Boston biotech firm. He’s also a werewolf, the son of a large, ancient family with roots in the British aristocracy. His work is his life. But then he feels the Beat—an irresistible urge to mate with Lilah, a beautiful human who inflames his passions like no other—and he abandons everything he thought he knew in his need to claim her.

 

Lilah Murphy is broke and desperate. All she wants is a job to support herself, her sister, and her ailing mother. The last thing she needs is to get involved with a rich, powerful guy who would discard her after a few hot nights together and get her fired at her new, high-paying job. But she, too, feels the Beat. She hears him in her mind, feels him in her soul, and the urge to answer the ancient call is undeniable. Is she strong enough to embrace his secrets—and her own?

 

The Billionaire Shifter’s Curvy Match is the first in an all-new series of hot (did we mention *hot*?) romances about the billionaire shifters and the women they’re fated to love.

 

* * *

Welcome to the most exclusive club in the world. The Novo Club. Novo is Latin for “change.” Our members prefer the word “shift” though.

 

It’s the hottest club in town.

 

The price of membership is your heart and your secrecy.

 

All you need to do to join is to be loved beyond your wildest imagination by someone powerful with an…alpha side so primal it’s in their blood.

 

Are you ready?

 

Good. Then let’s begin.

 

The Billionaire Shifters Club is a new series featuring the five Stanton siblings, four brothers and one sister who are all part of an ancient shifter family living in modern America. The subterranean club-within-a-club beneath the streets of Boston, Massachusetts holds secrets only the Stantons and their fellow shifters know.

 

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Google Play

EXCERPT:

The sound of screeching rubber on asphalt drowned out the rest of her words. They both paused, expecting to hear cars colliding. Instead, there was eerie silence—and then the plaintive cry of a wounded animal.

A dog.

They both ran to the window. Outside, the usual neighborhood lowlifes loitered on their grubby street, where the most vibrant business was a check-cashing place. And a bar. Actually, a lot of bars.

And was that a limo? What the hell was one of those doing here?

The dog’s cries continued.

“Smoky!” Lilah gasped, turning away from the window, her heart pounding. “That bastard hit Smoky!”

Smoky was the neighborhood stray. He should’ve been ill-tempered, given his bad luck to live on the streets, but his was the friendliest face on the block, looking happy to see you, always eager for a pat, his tail wagging.

The limo might’ve killed the poor little guy. Taking three stairs at a time, Lilah flew down the stairwell to the stained security door and out the rusty gate to the sidewalk.

The usual drug dealer was standing on the corner, interrupted from talking to whoever was inside a parked silver Chevy. Under that car, only a few feet from him and still whimpering, was a huddled mass of pale fur.

Smoky.

Jess was right on her heels. “Oh, no.”

“We have to help him.” Lilah glanced up and down the street, preparing to cross, her long hair flying as she whipped her head back and forth to make sure it was safe.

Jess grabbed her arm. “You can’t! That’s the dealer who stabbed somebody last year, isn’t it?”

“Different guy,” Lilah said, although it wasn’t. She strode into the street just as the driver of the limo was getting out. She couldn’t leave Smoky to die in the street with those scumbags.

Then she saw the limo driver pull his arms back, hands on hips, revealing a barely-concealed gun on a holster around his chest. The window in the back of the limo remained up, and why shouldn’t it? Why would some rich dude want to get dirty? Why would he care if he’d run over some poor homeless dog?

The tiny scar above Lilah’s left eyebrow began to throb. It jolted her, making the scene before her look shimmery. Unreal. She pressed her fingertips into the tiny divot and hoped the throbbing would go away. The last thing she needed now was a three-day blinding headache.

And she’d run out of her meds. No money.

“What’s wrong, Lilah?” Jess grabbed her elbow and pulled her out of the middle of the street. She’d just frozen there, staring at the back windows of the limo.

Lilah could hear Smoky’s whimpering and the city traffic, but it all came as background noise through the throbbing in her head. It wasn’t quite pain. The pulsing felt like it pierced her brain, a second heartbeat she couldn’t quite follow.

Her vision was fine, and that meant it wasn’t a migraine. Then what was this?

And why did it worsen when her eyes flickered toward the back windows of the limo?

“Let’s get Smoky,” Lilah said, though her mouth felt like it was filled with cotton.

Jess had an arm around her. “I’ll get him. You’re about to faint.”

“I’m fine.” Lilah forced herself to move, shooting an icy glance at the neighborhood felon before she squatted down to the car’s rear bumper.

“Lilah, you look really pale,” Jess insisted, frowning. She looked so much like their mom when she did that.

“Here, puppy,” Lilah cooed, reaching out a hand. She knew the biggest danger was if Smoky ran away again and hid where nobody could help him, so she grabbed him by the scruff of his neck and pulled him as gently as she could out from under the car. Luckily, Smoky was a small thing, barely fifteen pounds, and she got him bundled up in her arms without having to drag him far.

He relaxed in her arms, his shivering more from fear than any injury. Thank goodness.

But as soon as she stood, the throbbing, pulsing pain returned. Her gaze was pulled to the back window of the limo, now open. To the man sitting in the shadows.

Him. Her head felt like someone had dropped a brick on it, her body filling with heat and lava.

It’s him.

What was the matter with her? She had to get Smoky inside. She didn’t know anyone who rode around in a limo, so why did she feel like she did?

Him.

It didn’t matter. She had to get closer. She had to see him.

Holding Smoky in her arms, Lilah took a step toward the limo, then another.

Jess snagged her elbow. “Lilah, no! You can’t! That driver has a gun—”

Lilah was beyond reason, the pounding turning into a word, a word that had no sound, no form, no sense.

Him.

Him.

Him.

That voice. It pounded like a hammer forging steel. She continued to advance on the shining black limo, barely noticing when the driver climbed inside and slammed the door. She was fearless in her uncontrollable need to see that face, to know he was real.

You’re real.

Jess was at her heels. “Lilah, please—”

The limo peeled out, its tires screeching as it drove past her only an arm’s-length away. Two bright blue eyes, glittering with otherworldly sharpness, met hers through the open window. Gold highlights tickled his hair, a honey brown that curved up at the neck, a little too long to be all business, with waves she wanted to sink her fingers into. A strong jaw, set firmly, and those wild, seductive eyes… oh.

Oh my.

And then the voice changed in an instant.

Mine.

Mine.

Mine.

 

Author Bio:

 

Diana Seere was raised by wolves in the forests outside Boston and San Francisco. The only time she spends in packs these days is at romance writing conventions. In truth, Diana is two New York Times and USA Today bestselling authors who decided to write shifter romance and have more fun. You can find “her” on Facebook at Diana Seere’s Facebook Page: http://www.facebook.com/dianaseere. Sign up for her New Releases and Sales email newsletter here: eepurl.com/beUZnr

 

 

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The End is Coming… Raven’s Rise by @LincolnjCole #UrbanFantasy #Horror #TuesdayBookBlog


Raven's Rise - kindle cover

 

Title: Raven’s Rise

Author: Lincoln Cole

Genre: Horror/Urban Fantasy

 

Book Blurb:

Everything has come crashing down after the events of Raven’s Fall: barely anyone is left standing and the Church is blaming Abigail for the fallout.

 

Haatim and Dominick are struggling to understand how their worlds were flipped upside down so completely, but they are running out of time. The threat that began in the mountains is far from over. They need to find a way to survive what comes next and put a stop to the cult that is threatening their existence before it is too late.

 

 

Excerpt:

As soon as Matt Eicholt stepped inside his quiet little church in the center of Phnom Penh, something felt terribly wrong. The lights remained off, just as he expected, but he could feel the presence of someone else hiding in the room.

 

The mere fact that they hid from him filled him with concern. He couldn’t see anyone but could tell they hid there.

 

“Hello?” he called out in Khmer. “Who’s there?”

 

No response. He tried English as well, but still, no answer came. Probably kids hiding away from their mothers. He’d experienced situations like this many times in the past, finding children avoiding their schoolwork or chores, though not usually this late in the day.

 

No doubt, they hid from him as well, hoping he wouldn’t return them to their angry parents.

 

However, something about the situation made him worry, and even though wayward children seemed the likeliest scenario, something told him that this case differed.

 

Matt walked across the hardwood floor toward the front of the church and to the light switch. Wary and uncomfortable, he felt unsure what might be afoot but also afraid he would miss his dinner appointment.

 

He used the light spilling in through the open doorway to navigate between the wooden pews toward the front, keeping his eyes open for any trespassers.

 

He made it to the far side of the room and felt around for the switch. It took a few seconds for his fingers to find it in the darkness, and then he flicked it on.

 

Nothing happened. The room remained dark.

 

Suddenly, the door behind him swung closed with a crash, casting him into complete darkness.

 

A shiver danced across his spine, and he backed up against the wall, willing his eyes to adjust to the darkness. Someone stood inside the room with him, and a tinge of panic rushed through his body.

 

“Who’s there?” he asked in Khmer. “Come out where I can see you.”

 

“Why would I do that?” a woman asked in English from across the room. She sounded young, with a sultry voice.

 

“Who are you? Why are you in my church?”

 

“Maybe I came here looking for God.”

 

She sounded closer this time as if she’d moved across the room toward him. He listened but couldn’t hear any footsteps tapping across the wooden floor.

 

“He does hide in the most unexpected places,” the woman said.

 

“What do you want?”

 

“I want you, Matthew. You have no idea how much you mean to me.”

 

“Me?”

 

“Yes, you. You make the last piece of my puzzle. The light at the end of my tunnel. Matthew. I like your name. So Biblical.”

 

He backed away slowly, one hand on the wall. He aimed to move away from the approaching voice and head for a door at the back of the cathedral. One he kept locked normally, and that exited into a back alleyway.

 

His eyes still hadn’t adjusted to the darkness, and he bumped into a pew while he scrambled through the church, knocking it sideways to scrape across the floor.

 

“Where do you think you’re going?” she asked, a few steps to his left. “Our fun has only just begun.”

 

“Stay away from me.”

 

“I couldn’t stay apart from you any more than a moth can from a flame.”

 

Suddenly, the door to the church blasted open, pouring bright sunlight in once more. A wretched-looking woman stood in front of him, maybe two meters away. She appeared of Indian descent, though pale. Pockmarks and rashes covering her skin and face gave her a sickly appearance.

 

The woman turned toward the door and let out a laugh when the light came in.

 

“I wondered when you would show up.”

 

Matt glanced over. Another person stood the doorway. This one silhouetted by the sunlight, which made it impossible to make out the features or see the face.

 

“Matt, run!” the person in the doorway—a woman—yelled.

 

The newcomer’s arm flew up, and a thunderous roar of gunshots filled his tiny church. On reflex, he covered his ears and stumbled backward, trying to get away from the sound.

 

He glanced back at the first woman, the scarred and sickly one. She dodged back and shifted behind one of the pillars that held up the roof. Gunshots thudded into the area around her.

 

The woman moved with unnatural speed, gliding as much as moving. Matt watched her in awe, not even sure if she qualified as human. More rounds blasted into the church. They buried into the pillar behind which she hid, shattering off huge wooden fragments that went flying through the air.

 

She turned, looked at him, and let out a hissing sound.

 

“Run, Matt!” the newcomer screamed from the open doorway before firing off more rounds at the Indian woman. “Get out of here!”

 

Matt ran.

 

Buy Links:

Amazon US https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B01NALJBQ2

Amazon CA https://www.amazon.ca/gp/product/B01NALJBQ2

Amazon UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/product/B01NALJBQ2

 

lincoln-cole

 

Author Biography:

Lincoln Cole is a Columbus-based author who enjoys traveling and has visited many different parts of the world, including Australia and Cambodia, but always returns home to his pugamonster and wife. His love for writing was kindled at an early age through the works of Isaac Asimov and Stephen King and he enjoys telling stories to anyone who will listen.

He has won multiple literary awards for his novels. He has also been a bestseller in multiple different categories.

 

Social Media Links:

Website https://www.lincolncole.net/

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/lincolnjcole

Twitter https://www.twitter.com/lincolnjcole

 

 

 

Friday Book Round-Up Celebrates All Things #Irish and #Ireland! #FridayReads #Books


Friday Book Round Up

 

Welcome to this week’s edition of Friday Book Round-Up. Happy St. Patrick’s Day! We hope you’re channeling your inner Irish nature. Today, we’re highlighting some terrific books (children to adult) celebrating all things Ireland. Enjoy!

 

THE LITTLE LEPRECHAUN WHO LOVED YELLOW! (Absolutely Delightful Bedtime Story/Picture Book About Following Your Heart, for Beginner Readers, ages 2-8) by Sally Huss

Patrick, a young leprechaun, liked the red

of the beach ball in his basket of balls and the roses outside his window. He liked the blue of the sky and the boat he sailed in the bathtub. He liked oranges to eat and the orange of his schoolbooks. He liked purple grapes and purple snakes and purple fish. Yes, he liked all the colors of the rainbow, but most of all he loved YELLOW! This love causes him to follow the rainbow to its end in hopes of finding the pot of gold — the finest yellow of all. What he found was far better than gold.

 

*Over 25 delightful illustrations.

 

*Wonderful message for every child.

 

*If you like the books of Dr. Seuss, Mo Willems, Sandra Boynton, the Berenstains, Suzy Spafford, Felicia Bond, Laura Numeroff, and P.D. Eastman, you will love THE LITTLE LEPRECHAUN WHO LOVED YELLOW!

 

 

How to Catch a Leprechaun by Adam Wallace (Author), Andy Elkerton (Illustrator)

A New York Times Bestseller!

 

You’ve been planning night and day, and finally you’ve created the perfect trap! Now all you need to do is wait. Is this the year you’ll finally catch the leprechaun? Start a St. Patrick’s Day tradition with this fun and lively children’s book.

 

How to catch a leprechaun?

It’s tougher than you think!

He’ll turn your whole house upside down.

He’s quicker than a wink!

 

 

St. Patrick’s Day by Gail Gibbons (Author)

The story of Patrick’s life and how the day is celebrated.

 

 

Patrick, Patron Saint of Ireland by Tomie dePaola (Author)

This beautifully illustrated book from the award-winning author of Strega Nona tells the story behind St. Patrick’s Day.

 

The story of Patrick’s life, from his noble birth in Britain, to his being captured and taken to Ireland by a group of bandits, to the “dreams” that led him to convert the Irish people to the Christian faith. DePaola also retells several well-known legends, including the story of how Patrick got rid of all the snakes in Ireland. Full color.

 

This fixed-layout ebook preserves the design and layout of the original print book.

 

 

The New Irish Table: Recipes from Ireland’s Top Chefs by Leslie Conron Carola (Compiler), Neven MaGuire (Contributor), Darina Allen (Contributor)

Ten award-winning chefs dismantle the stereotype of Irish cuisine being a boil, a fry, or soda bread. Highlighting fresh, local, and seasonal ingredients from provinces across the Emerald Isle, this beautiful, photo-illustrated collection offers inspirational Irish recipes.

An Irish meal must nourish the soul as well as the body, teasing each of the senses. Home cooks are invited into each featured chef’s restaurant and/ or home to experience recipes that utilize fresh fish, lamb, beef, pork, fruits, and vegetables, and of course, Ireland’s renowned cheeses.

 

Starred-studded contributors include Kevin Dundon (host of PBS’s Kevin Dundon’s Modern Irish Table), Darina Allen (founder of the Ballymaloe Cookery School), and Neven Maguire (celebrity chef and TV personality).

 

Celebrating the new Irish food culture, this compilation emphasizes local resources, simple fare, and the highest standards, proving that Ireland is a modern food destination.

 

Mrs. N’s Review: https://princessofthelight.wordpress.com/2017/03/02/the-new-irish-table-recipes-from-irelands-top-chefs-by-imagine_cb-bookreview-irish/

 

 

Ireland: A Novel by Frank Delaney (Author)

In the winter of 1951, a storyteller, the last practitioner of an honored, centuries-old tradition, arrives at the home of nine-year-old Ronan O’Mara in the Irish countryside. For three wonderful evenings, the old gentleman enthralls his assembled local audience with narratives of foolish kings, fabled saints, and Ireland’s enduring accomplishments before moving on. But these nights change young Ronan forever, setting him on a years-long pursuit of the elusive, itinerant storyteller and the glorious tales that are no less than the saga of his tenacious and extraordinary isle.

 

 

101 Things You Didn’t Know About Irish History: The People, Places, Culture, and Tradition of the Emerald Isle by Ryan Hackney (Author), Amy Hackney Blackwell (Author), Garland Kimmer (Author)

Discover the truth behind the myths of the Emerald Isle

 

Forget about shamrocks, leprechans, and all that blarney; 101 Things You Didn’t Know about Irish History dispels the myths and tells the true story of the Irish.

 

Inside, you’ll learn about:

 

Lives of the ancient Celts before the British invasions

Famous Irish including Michael Collins, Charles Parnell—and Bono!

The potato famine and emigration (were there really gangs of New York?)

Irish music and dance

 

 

Complete with an Irish language primer and pronunciation guide, 101 Things You Didn’t Know about Irish History is an informative reference for anyone who loves the Irish.

 

 

How the Irish Saved Civilization (Hinges of History Book 1) by Thomas Cahill (Author)

The perfect St. Patrick’s Day gift, and a book in the best tradition of popular history — the untold story of Ireland’s role in maintaining Western culture while the Dark Ages settled on Europe.

 

Every year millions of Americans celebrate St. Patrick’s Day, but they may not be aware of how great an influence St. Patrick was on the subsequent history of civilization. Not only did he bring Christianity to Ireland, he instilled a sense of literacy and learning that would create the conditions that allowed Ireland to become “the isle of saints and scholars” — and thus preserve Western culture while Europe was being overrun by barbarians.

 

In this entertaining and compelling narrative, Thomas Cahill tells the story of how Europe evolved from the classical age of Rome to the medieval era. Without Ireland, the transition could not have taken place. Not only did Irish monks and scribes maintain the very record of Western civilization — copying manuscripts of Greek and Latin writers, both pagan and Christian, while libraries and learning on the continent were forever lost — they brought their uniquely Irish world-view to the task.

 

As Cahill delightfully illustrates, so much of the liveliness we associate with medieval culture has its roots in Ireland. When the seeds of culture were replanted on the European continent, it was from Ireland that they were germinated.

 

In the tradition of Barbara Tuchman’s A Distant Mirror, How The Irish Saved Civilization reconstructs an era that few know about but which is central to understanding our past and our cultural heritage. But it conveys its knowledge with a winking wit that aptly captures the sensibility of the unsung Irish who relaunched civilization.

 

 

A Slanting of the Sun: Stories by Donal Ryan (Author)

An old man looks into the fearful eyes of a burglar left to guard him while his brother is beaten; an Irish priest in a war-torn Syrian town teaches its young men the art of hurling; the driver of a car which crashed, killing a teenage girl, forges a connection with the girl’s mother; a squad of broken friends assemble to take revenge on a rapist; a young man sets off on his morning run, reflecting on the ruins of his relationship, but all is not as it seems.

 

Donal Ryan’s short stories pick up where his acclaimed novels The Spinning Heart and The Thing About December left off, dealing with the human cost of loneliness, isolation and displacement. Sometimes this is present in the ordinary, the mundane; sometimes it is triggered by a fateful encounter or a tragic decision. At the heart of these stories, crucially, is how people are drawn to each other and cling on to love, often in desperate circumstances.

 

In haunting and often startling prose, Donal Ryan has captured the brutal beauty of the human heart in all its hopes and failings.

 

 

Band of Sisters by Cathy Gohlke (Author)

Maureen O’Reilly and her younger sister flee Ireland in hope of claiming the life promised to their father over twenty years before. After surviving the rigors of Ellis Island, Maureen learns that their benefactor, Colonel Wakefield, has died. His family, refusing to own his Civil War debt, casts her out. Alone, impoverished, and in danger of deportation, Maureen connives to obtain employment in a prominent department store. But she soon discovers that the elegant facade hides a secret that threatens every vulnerable woman in the city.Despite her family’s disapproval, Olivia Wakefield determines to honor her father’s debt but can’t find Maureen. Unexpected help comes from a local businessman, whom Olivia begins to see as more than an ally, even as she fears the secrets he’s hiding. As women begin disappearing from the store, Olivia rallies influential ladies in her circle to help Maureen take a stand against injustice and fight for the lives of their growing band of sisters. But can either woman open her heart to divine leading or the love it might bring?

 

 

The Woman Who Upped and Left: A laugh-out-loud read that will put a spring in your step! by Fiona Gibson (Author)

The laugh-out-loud Sunday Times bestseller is back. Perfect for fans of ‘Outnumbered’ and Carole Matthews, Fiona writes about life as it really is.

 

Forget about having it all. Sometimes you just want to leave it all behind.

 

Audrey is often seized by the urge to walk out of her house without looking back – but she can’t possibly do that.

 

She is a single parent. She is needed. She has a job, a home, responsibilities…and a slothful teenage son’s pants to pick up.

 

But no one likes being taken for granted – Audrey least of all – so the time has come for drastic action. And no one’s going to stand in her way…

 

Have a favorite Irish writer, St. Patrick’s Day book and/or celebrating Ireland books to recommend? Share in the comments below. Happy Reading!

 

MRS N, Book Addict