“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

 

GIVEAWAY!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

XBTBanner1

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

 

 

 

 

 

The Reluctant Wife by @CaroWarfield Launch Day! #romance #historicalromance #giveaway


Empirememe2

Launch Day!

Caroline Warfield is over the moon to finally be able to release The Reluctant Wife into the wild.

This sweeping story carries readers from the edge of Bengal to Calcutta to the Suez and across the desert, to rural England while two people stumble into love in spite of themselves. The hero, a clueless male with more honor than sense, never stops trying to do the right thing. Imagine his shock when he realizes people actually depend on him! The heroine is a courageous wounded duck with more love bottled up than she finds comfortable. Along the way it features a meteor shower, a tragic assassination, colonial officials, steamboats, narrow minded officers’ wives, herbal remedies, a desert bivouac, a court martial, interfering relatives, a horrific fire, and camels. The self important villain, rotten to the core, makes the hero miserable in both India and England, until the hero brings him down—with a little help from family—in the end. And last but not least, it features two charming children, one a precocious little girl who pushes the hero to do what is right even when he is confused about what that is.

The author dedicates this one to her father, the constant soldier, who understood duty and loyalty as few people do.

Thank you for joining the celebration.  Tell us about your favorite story elements. Caroline will give a kindle copy of The Renegade Wife, Book 1 in the series, to one person who comments below.

She is also sponsoring a grand prize in celebration of her release. You can enter it here: http://www.carolinewarfield.com/2017blogtourpackage/

The prequel to this series, A Dangerous Nativity, is always FREE. You can get a copy here: http://www.carolinewarfield.com/bookshelf/a-dangerous-nativity-1815/

TheReluctantWife_850

The Reluctant Wife

Children of Empire, Book 2

Genre: Pre-Victorian, Historical Romance

Heat rating: 3 of 5 (two brief -mild- sexual encounters)

Children of Empire

Three cousins, torn apart by lies and deceit and driven to the far reaches of the empire, struggle to find their way home.

Book 2

When all else fails, love succeeds…

 

Captain Fred Wheatly’s comfortable life on the fringes of Bengal comes crashing down around him when his mistress dies, leaving him with two children he never expected to have to raise. When he chooses justice over army regulations, he’s forced to resign his position, leaving him with no way to support his unexpected family. He’s already had enough failures in his life. The last thing he needs is an attractive, interfering woman bedeviling his steps, reminding him of his duties.

All widowed Clare Armbruster needs is her brother’s signature on a legal document to be free of her past. After a failed marriage, and still mourning the loss of a child, she’s had it up to her ears with the assumptions she doesn’t know how to take care of herself, that what she needs is a husband. She certainly doesn’t need a great lout of a captain who can’t figure out what to do with his daughters. If only the frightened little girls didn’t need her help so badly.

Clare has made mistakes in the past. Can she trust Fred now? Can she trust herself? Captain Wheatly isn’t ashamed of his aristocratic heritage, but he doesn’t need his family and they’ve certainly never needed him. But with no more military career and two half-caste daughters to support, Fred must turn once more—as a failure—to the family he let down so often in the past. Can two hearts rise above past failures to forge a future together?

Excerpt

The ballroom at Government House, Calcutta, 1835

Clare had stopped listening. A prickle of awareness drew her gaze to the entrance where another man entered. He stood well above average height, he radiated coiled strength, and her eyes found his auburn hair unerringly. Captain Wheatly had come. The rapid acceleration of her heart took her off guard. Why should I care that he’s here?

 

“Clare? The lieutenant asked you a question.”

Lieutenant? Clare blinked to clear her head, only to see Mrs. Davis’s icy glare turned on Captain Wheatly. “Is that your strange captain from the black neighborhood?” she demanded in a faux whisper.

The lieutenant’s avid curiosity added to Clare’s discomfort. “Is that Wheatly in a captain’s uniform? I thought they might demote him after the business with Cornell,” he volunteered.

Clare forced herself to turn to the lieutenant. “Cornell?” she asked to deflect Mrs. Davis’s questions.

“Collector at Dehrapur. Wheatly assaulted the man. Unprovoked, I heard,” the lieutenant answered.

She looked back, unable to stop herself. Merciful angels, he’s seen me. She watched the captain start toward them. At least Gleason could make introductions.

The lieutenant went on as though he had her full attention. “He was in line for promotion, the one that went to your brother instead. Philip posted over there right after it happened.”

Clare found it impossible to look away. The captain gave an ironic smile when he saw her watching. Mrs. Davis gave a sharp intake of breath when she realized Wheatly’s intent. “He’s coming here? Clare, I think I should warn you that a man who has been passed over as this one was—”

Before she could finish, Colonel Davis, who had been coming from the other direction, met the captain and greeted him with a smile. Clare couldn’t hear the words, but Captain Wheatly’s self-deprecating grin seemed to indicate at least a modicum of respect. The two men approached together.

“Captain Frederick Wheatly, may I present my wife, Mrs. Davis.” The captain bowed properly, and the colonel went on, “And our house guest, Miss Armbruster.”

This time the captain’s eyes held a distinct twinkle. “Miss Armbruster and I are acquainted. I met her when she visited her brother in Dehrapur.”

“Of course, of course! I should have remembered,” the colonel said jovially. He leaned toward Clare and winked. “He’s a catch, this one. Doesn’t like to boast of his connections, but earls and dukes lurk in his pedigree. His cousin stepped down from Under-Secretary for War and the Colonies just last year!”

Captain Wheatly looked discomfited by that revelation.

Gleason looked skeptical. “The Duke of Murnane?” he gasped.

Before anyone could answer, the small orchestra hired for the occasion began to play, and the captain cocked an eyebrow as if to ask a question.

“I think the captain wants a dance, Miss Armbruster. It’s your patriotic duty to see to the morale of the troops,” the colonel said coyly.

Captain Wheatly put out a gloved hand, and she put her equally gloved hand in his. Walking away from Gleason and the Davises, she admitted two things to herself. She was glad he came, and she planned to enjoy the dance.

Find it here: https://smile.amazon.com/Reluctant-Wife-Children-Empire-Book-ebook/dp/B06XYRRR1R/

Carol Roddy - Author

About Caroline Warfield

Traveler, poet, librarian, technology manager—Caroline Warfield has been many things (even a nun), but above all she is a romantic. Having retired to the urban wilds of eastern Pennsylvania, she reckons she is on at least her third act, happily working in an office surrounded by windows while she lets her characters lead her to adventures in England and the far-flung corners of the British Empire. She nudges them to explore the riskiest territory of all, the human heart.

Caroline is a RONE award winner with five star reviews from Readers’ Favorite, Night Owl Reviews, and InD’Tale and an Amazon best-seller. She is also a member of the writers’ co-operative, the Bluestocking Belles. With partners she manages and regularly writes for both The Teatime Tattler and History Imagined.

Website http://www.carolinewarfield.com/

Amazon Author http://www.amazon.com/Caroline-Warfield/e/B00N9PZZZS/

Goodreads http://bit.ly/1C5blTm

Facebook  https://www.facebook.com/carolinewarfield7

Twitter @CaroWarfield

Email warfieldcaro@gmail.com

Wedding Dreams: 20 Delicious Nuptial Romances by 20 Authors! #romance #giveaway @XpressoTours




 

Wedding Dreams: 20 Delicious Nuptial Romances
Publication date: April 18th 2017
Genres: Adult, Romance

 

**You are invited to the weddings of your dreams**

 

Twenty award-winning, USA Today and International best-selling authors have come together to bring you over 3,000 pages of love, lust, and lusciously sexy men.

 

From sweet second chance romances to bad boys, BBWs, and brides looking for revenge, this is a perfect read for anyone who enjoys Romance or Women’s Fiction. These pages are packed with cozy romances, thrilling international and holiday adventures, and sweet heart-melting stories. Our authors bring you everything from hot cowboys to rockstar romances, elegant weddings to nuptial disasters, and blushing brides to bold women, all in a delightful celebration of love.

 

You’re in for a wild, passionate ride on a breathtaking voyage to make your heart soar. This box set will leave you craving all things marital and wishing the honeymoon would never end.

 

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

Let’s meet a couple of authors from this boxed set!

 

GIVEAWAY!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

XBTBanner1

Immortal Fire by @AnnetteMMarie Book Blitz + #Giveaway! #Fantasy #Romance #FridayReads


Immortal Fire
Annette Marie
(Red Winter Trilogy #3)
Publication date: April 11th 2017
Genres: Fantasy, Romance, Young Adult

 

Once, Emi believed the heavenly gods were righteous and wise, while the earthly yokai spirits were bloodthirsty and evil. But with a traitorous deity poised to destroy her world, and the yokai standing as humanity’s only defense, the lies of her upbringing have toppled to reveal a far more terrifying reality.

 

Despite the looming threat, Emi can’t escape her greatest distraction: Shiro, the fox yokai who has so deftly claimed her heart for his own. Soon—too soon—she will have to break the curse that binds his magic and memories. And once the ancient power inside him awakens, the yokai she loves will be changed forever.

 

As the earthly gods gather to wage war against the heavens, Emi and Shiro must gamble everything to turn the tide against their immortal, all-powerful foes. Together, they will find a way to save her world—even if it means losing each other.

 

Goodreads / Amazon

Each book in the Red Winter Trilogy includes ten stunning illustrations by award-winning artist Brittany Jackson.

This is an exclusive preview of one illustration featured in Immortal Fire.

EXCERPT:

Violent shivers pulled Emi from the depths of sleep. The chill in the room cut right through the layers of blanket and kimono, and her toes ached from the cold. Curled in a tight ball beneath her blankets, she exhaled harshly, half expecting her breath to fog the air.

Beyond the thin partition that separated her sleeping quarters from the rest of the room, the windows rattled in a fierce wind. A winter storm? A feverish ache throbbed in her muscles, though she didn’t think she had slept for more than a few hours.

Yawning, she forced her tired body off the futon. Cold hit her like a splash of frigid water but even that wasn’t enough to dispel her drowsy daze. A short, fumbling search uncovered no extra blankets in the closet within her small alcove. Wrapping an arm around herself for warmth, she slid a panel open and peeked into the main room.

The remains of Shiro and Yumei’s late dinner had been cleared from the table, and the unlit brazier was devoid of light or warmth. Across the room, a second futon had been laid out near Shiro’s, and dark shapes filled both.

Trust the yokai to sleep right through the freezing cold. Behind their futons was a larger closet where bedding was stored. Surely there would be an extra blanket in there. She stumbled toward it in exhaustion. Her chest felt hollow and empty, and some of the chill that plagued her emanated from within.

As she crossed the room, an icy breeze rushed across her. Jerking back a step, she turned toward the sliding garden doors. A six-inch gap revealed the night-swathed garden beyond, where snow flew almost horizontally in the wind.

Why on earth had they left the door open? With a tired scowl, she yanked it shut. The room immediately felt warmer. Shaking her head, she stopped at the foot of Shiro’s futon, the light from the window glimmering on his white hair. Not that long ago, she had woken him from a nightmare, and he had thrown her into a wall before rousing enough to realize he was about to rip her throat out. Attempting to sneak between their futons to reach the closet was probably unwise.

“Shiro?” she whispered. “Are you awake?”

He didn’t stir. Neither did Yumei, who slept on his back with his head turned away, his hair splayed untidily across his face in a way that was very unlike the usually reserved yokai. He rarely slept when anyone else was nearby, at least as far as she’d seen. Maybe her ki had tired him.

“Shiro?” she tried again more loudly.

When he again didn’t move, not even a twitch of his ears, a nervous prickle climbed her spine. Shiro

wasn’t that deep of a sleeper. And why hadn’t her clumsy banging of the garden door woken them? A spike of adrenaline cut through her drowsiness as she realized how unlikely it was that Shiro and

Yumei would go to sleep with a door ajar. Had the wind blown it open? Or … something else?

She scoured the room, but it was clearly empty. Biting the inside of her cheek, she stepped between the futons and crouched.

“Shiro,” she called. “Wake up!”

No reaction. Hoping he wouldn’t attack her, she touched his shoulder. He slept on, eyes closed, face slack. Her apprehension intensified into real fear.

“Shiro!” She gripped his shoulder and shook it, but he still didn’t wake or so much as stir. Was she dreaming? Was this a nightmare? She spun around and reached for Yumei.

“Yumei, wake up! Please wake up!” She shook him but he was as unresponsive as Shiro. In desperation, she hit his shoulder with her open palm, yelling his name. “What’s wrong with you? Wake up!”

As she turned, intending to grab a handful of snow from outside to shove in Shiro’s face, the air above him shimmered strangely. She went rigid, squinting into the darkness.

A shadow took form. A small body, thin limbs, ragged black hair. The ghostly child crouched on Shiro’s chest, her blank, bottomless stare fixed on Emi.

Her heart thudded in her ears. A kanashibari, the dream-weaving yokai that had been watching Emi in the bath. That was what she’d forgotten to warn Shiro about! And now it was sitting on him, and he wouldn’t wake up.

She lurched back to Yumei. A second kanashibari appeared before her, perched on his torso. The new one, another little girl with short, stringy hair and a pale kimono, looked up at Emi with empty black eyes.

The child’s lips pulled up in a rictal grin, and her tiny arm shot out.

Emi shoved the yokai away, but her hands passed right through the spectral body, feeling nothing but frosty air.

The yokai reached for her face and a small, frigid, solid palm pressed against her forehead. A wave of burning ice surged into Emi’s skull, blanketing her thoughts. Impossible, unyielding drowsiness crashed through her.

Before she could react, before she could even think about resisting, she collapsed on top of Yumei’s unconscious body and slid into darkness.

 

The complete trilogy:

Available now on Amazon!

 

Author Bio:

 

Annette Marie is the author of the Amazon best-selling Steel & Stone series, which includes Goodreads Choice Award nominee Yield the Night, and fantasy trilogy Red Winter. Her first love is fantasy, but fast- paced urban fantasy and tantalizing forbidden romances are her guilty pleasures. She lives in the frozen winter wasteland of Alberta, Canada (okay, it’s not quite that bad) with her comparatively sensible husband and their furry minion of darkness—sorry, cat—Caesar. When not writing, she can be found elbow-deep in one art project or another while blissfully ignoring all adult responsibilities.

 

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter

 

GIVEAWAY!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

XBTBanner1

** Brand New Release ** Ukulele Deadly by @LeslieLangtry #cozymystery #TuesdayBookBlog


Ukulele Deadly Final

 

Title  UKULELE DEADLY

Author  Leslie Langtry

Genre  Cozy Mystery

Publisher  Gemma Halliday Publishing

 

Book Blurb

Ukulele player Nani Johnson is just starting to put the past behind her and settle in on Kauai with her loveable but crazy Mom, her hot new boyfriend, and regular gigs at both the Blue Hawaii Wedding Chapel and the Aloha Lagoon Resort. But unfortunately her island life proves anything but relaxing when a man carrying ID that says he’s from Nani’s hometown dies in front of her. Now it looks like Nani and her mother are the main suspects.

Things go from bad to bleak in paradise as Nani’s mom starts acting even odder than usual, there’s a mutiny involving snakes at the Blue Hawaii Wedding Chapel, and more bodies inconveniently pop up near Nani. Can Nani stay out of jail long enough to unmask the real killer…or will the police pin it all on her?

 

Excerpt

CHAPTER ONE

 

“Are those…human heads?” eight-year-old Daisy asks as we walk through my front door. “Real human heads? From, like, people?”

 

My entryway looks like Madame Tussaud stopped by for a visit and made a bunch of wax heads but got bored and left before attempting anything below the neck. Dozens of glassy eyes stare unnervingly at us, probably begging us to call the police for help.

 

Mom.

 

“No. They’re just…” My mind races for an explanation as to what these things are and why I’d even have them in my house.

 

Which, by the way, I wouldn’t. These heads weren’t here when I’d left for work a few hours ago. Mom must be on one of her insane decorating binges. I really should take over her bank account. I’m sure Dad didn’t mean for her to use her inheritance for this. Again. Still, I have to admit, this is way better than the time she filled the dining room with three dozen obscenely endowed tiki gods. They were basically giant erections with tiny figurines attached on one end, and they fell over every time I took a breath anywhere in the house. As a result of this pornographic collection (Mom called them cultural artifacts), I couldn’t eat in there, and I took bratwurst off the menu until Mom removed them. Being that we’re mostly German (where brats are their own food group) and from the Midwest (where it’s possibly illegal if you don’t grill them once a week), she grudgingly complied.

 

“Mannequin heads.” My exhausted brain finally connects with the right word. “They’re for a…a hairstylist convention.”

 

Daisy shrugs and walks over to a head that eerily resembles me and pokes it in the eye. Would she actually do that if it were real? Kids are creepy.

 

And that’s best I can come up with? A hairstylist convention? Well, I guess that’s better than saying Mom’s on an island-wide decapitation spree. At least she’s diverse. I count quite a few different races represented by the unblinking heads. Some are even wearing makeup.

 

“Oh good, Nani!” Mom rounds the corner in a bright lime muumuu with a sloshing mai tai to match. Great. She’s on a binge and a bender.

 

“I’d like your opinion,” she says as she totters in on her flip-flops. Despite their flat engineering, she walks in them as if they are six-inch high heels. Mom never really warmed to the “shoes off at the front door” culture here.

 

Huh. Mom never asks for my opinion on her, um, stuff. Most of the time I just stumble into the living room to find one hundred and twenty-three plastic bananas wearing handlebar mustaches and giant googly eyes.

 

She waves toward the severed heads. “Do you think the legs would look better in the living room or in your bedroom? I’ve given them all pedicures but can’t find shoes that fit.”

 

Fantastic. This means she has the rest of the body parts stashed somewhere. With the way my luck is running, she probably has the torsos scattered around the yard, which will definitely skeeve out the neighbors. Does she forget that not too long ago, I was the main suspect in three murders? I do not need the extremely nearsighted little old lady next door calling the police to say she saw me dismembering bodies.

 

I need to get a little tough here. “Neither. And there’s no more room in the garage for your ‘decorations.‘ You can keep the heads, but the bodies have to go away.” I know…why let her keep the heads? Because you have to pick your battles with Harriet Jones Johnson.

 

Mom pouted. “Well, you’ll have to move them then, because Nick and his mother are coming over in an hour for dinner.”

 

I groan. I don’t even do it inwardly anymore, because Mom doesn’t appear to notice or care.

 

“Why didn’t you tell me before I went to work?” I whine.

 

Now I have to cancel Daisy’s lesson, scavenge for something to cook, and, well, cook it, all in one hour. Sure, I do this all the time. But that doesn’t mean I like it. At least we are past the surprise dinners where my mother foists me on strange men. I’m in a pretty serious relationship with someone she introduced me to…at a surprise dinner, where I’d tried to pass off carryout as my own cooking.

 

Daisy sighs, pulls her cell out of her pocket, and dials. Unfortunately, she knows the drill. My mother has no respect for my student lessons. No matter what I say, she’ll just do it again. Daisy’s a little too used to this, and once she tells her parents about the severed heads in the foyer, I’ll probably lose her as a student.

 

“Okay, Dad.” Daisy ends the call and looks up at me. Her bright yellow, smiley face ukulele hasn’t even left the case. “He’s just a block away. I’ll wait for him outside.” And with that, she’s gone.

 

“Mom.” I turn on my mother. “I’ve told you to check with me before you invite people over. Now I’m going to lose another student.”

 

My mother doesn’t care. “I’m sorry, Nani. I really am. But you work for the resort now. You don’t need to teach lessons anymore.”

 

I take a deep breath and steel myself. “I don’t need to—I like to.” Not to mention the fact that at the rate she’s emptying her bank account, she’ll need my income to buy googly eyes, disembodied heads, and erect tiki statues.

 

At one time I had quite a few students. But when I was a suspect in those aforementioned murders, my students started falling away. The tragic and disturbing upside is that because of those murders, my competition is gone, and now I’m able to perform at the Aloha Lagoon Resort. I balance that with my gigs at the Blue Hawaii Wedding Chapel. So I’d narrowed my teaching down to three of my favorite students, which included Daisy.

 

“You’re going to have to start dinner,” Mom says. “Nick and Vera will be here in forty-five minutes. What are you going to make?”

 

“I thought you said an hour,” I say through gritted teeth.

 

An artificially black eyebrow rises. “Did I? Well, it doesn’t matter, because they’ll be here in thirty minutes.”

 

I really need to get Mom a watch.

 

“I’ll order out,” I say after doing a mental inventory of my empty cupboards. Why does this always happen when we have no food?

 

My mother shakes her head, causing her mai tai to spill again. A neon green puddle that looks suspiciously like antifreeze starts to run across the floor. One more mess I have to clean up.

 

“I think it would be better if you cook. How do you expect to keep Nick interested if we order out each time?”

 

I roll my eyes. “Nick and I have been dating for a while now. I don’t think it’s my cooking that he’s interested in.”

 

Storming past Mom before she can ask for details, I reach my room, locking the door behind me. Half an hour—or whatever it is now—is at least enough time to take a quick shower and change my clothes. I’ve just come home from a luau, and my hair smells like roasted pork.

 

My name is Nani Johnson, and I’m a Julliard-trained ukulele musician living on the island of Kauai. I moved here almost two years ago with my mother, after my father died. And since she’s mostly certifiable, she doesn’t work, instead spending her days either playing mah jong at the senior center, decorating our small cottage, or running around with her new friend, Vera Woodfield.

 

It’s funny how I’d once thought moving to Hawaii would solve all of our problems. Mom’s a diehard Polynesia-phile who thinks she’s a direct descendant of King Kamehameha’s. She’s descended from German farmers, and instead of having Tahitian ancestors, we have pasty white people from Kansas.

 

 

Release Day Giveaway

 

2017-02-14 14.22.07

Click her to enter to win  https://leslielangtry.com

 

Buy Links

Amazon: http://a.co/0i3RvO9

 

Nook:  http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/ukulele-deadly-leslie-langtry/1125873155?ean=2940154033982

 

iBooks:  https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/ukulele-deadly/id1211433243?mt=11&ign-mpt=uo%3D4

 

Kobo:  https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/ukulele-deadly

 

Smashwords:  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/707596

 

Leslie Langtry

 

Author Biography

Leslie Langtry is the USA Today Bestselling Author of the Bombay Greatest Hits Series, Merry Wrath Mysteries & the Ukulele Mysteries. She lives in the Midwest with her family and an alarming menagerie of pets. Leslie loves cake and puppies but will not share her cake with puppies.

 

Social Media Links

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

Twitter https://twitter.com/LeslieLangtry

 

Bad Bloods: July Thunder by Bestselling Author @AuthorSAT & @CleanTeenPub #YA #Fantasy




 

July Thunder
Shannon A. Thompson
Published by: Clean Teen Publishing
Publication date: April 10th 2017
Genres: Fantasy, Young Adult

 

From best-selling author Shannon A. Thompson comes an exciting new duology in the Bad Bloods universe.

 

Fourteen-year-old Violet has been called many things: a bad blood, a survivor, an immortal…now she has a new name–citizen. But adjusting to a lawful life is not easy, especially when she must live under the rule of the same officers who justified the killings of her flock only eight months earlier.

 

Segregation of bad bloods and humans is still in effect, and rebellious Violet steps into a school where she is not allowed. When the police get involved, things deteriorate quickly, sparking a new revolution at the wall separating the Highlands from the outskirts.

 

That’s when Caleb steps in. He might appear to be an average sixteen-year-old bad blood, but he has secrets, and Violet is determined to figure them out. Caleb knows who’s attacking the wall and why, but his true identity remains a mystery–and how he relates to Violet could shake the threatened city to its very core.

 

Together or not, a storm will form, a rally will start, and shocking truths will be revealed.

 

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Smashwords

EXCERPT:

While the Northern Flock had to be quiet to survive, the herd played music in order to live.

Caleb’s hand found mine. “Dance with me?” he asked, but I hated my answer.

“I can’t.” My confession came with my wrecked knee. With one gesture, Caleb seemed to understand, but as he turned his eyes to his herd—to Britney prancing around with Plato, to Kat covering her ears, to Yasir holding Hanna with his protective gloves between them—Caleb pulled me up to my feet.

“Let me do it for you,” he said, and then, he lifted me up and placed me on the tops of his boots.

As he swayed, I saw the sunburn on the tops of his cheeks, the sand in his hair, the sea salt on his skin. Then, his chapped lips as he managed a shaky smile. For once, Caleb looked disheveled, and I had never liked him more.

“That’s some crew you have,” he said, but I hadn’t noticed anyone else in the world around us until he spun.

Life-sized shadows—dozens of them—danced all around us, and I recognized their shapes as people I would always know. Blake and his teddy bear. Floyd’s stretched limbs, and Ami’s swinging braids. Even Adam’s speed.

Alive or dead, the shadows of every member of my own flock joined in on the dance of a herd, and my heart fluttered at the sight.

Losing control had never felt so great.

Neither had a storm descending down upon us.

 

 

Author Bio:

 

Shannon A. Thompson is a young adult author, avid reader, and a habitual chatterbox.

 

As a novelist, poet, and blogger, Thompson spends her free time writing and sharing ideas with her black cat, Bogart, named after her favorite actor, Humphrey Bogart. Her other two cats bring her coffee. Between writing and befriending cats, Thompson graduated from the University of Kansas with a bachelor’s degree in English with an emphasis on creative writing, and her work has appeared in numerous poetry collections and anthologies. Represented by Clean Teen Publishing, Thompson is the best-selling author of The Timely Death Trilogy and the Bad Bloods duology. When she is not writing, she is climbing rooftops, baking cookies, or watching murder shows in the middle of the night, often done with her cats by her side.

 

Visit her blog for writers and readers at http://www.ShannonAThompson.com.

 

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter

 

GIVEAWAY!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

XBTBanner1

Queen of Emeralds by Kelsey McKnight @KelseyMMcK Book Blitz #historicalromance #giveaway #books


Queen of Emeralds
Kelsey McKnight
Published by: Limitless Publishing
Publication date: April 4th 2017
Genres: Adult, Historical

 

British heiress Charlotte Holloway never had any interest in marrying…

 

However, a woman in Victorian England spends her life in the control of men, making finding a husband necessary. Fearing his daughter losing everything when he dies, Charlotte’s father forces a match with an old friend, Richard Howard. But Richard is much more interested in an heir than a wife, and will do anything to continue his bloodline.

 

Beaten and battered, Charlotte sees no way out of the union…

 

Then the handsome Scottish laird Conner MacLeod crashes the social scene. He sets her body on fire with a mere touch, but he has a bad reputation of leaving a string of women in his wake. Nonetheless, when Conner offers his emerald queen sanctuary in his Highland castle, Charlotte flees with him into the night, escaping her marriage. But those who wish to trap her are never far behind.

 

The Highlands give her hope, but fill her life with new perils…

 

She and Conner begin growing closer, although the shadows of his former relationships haunt her. Still, the magnetic forces that pull them together are making it harder for her to stay away. And just as Charlotte is beginning to settle into her life, she learns someone wants her gone for good and will do so…by any means necessary.

 

When Charlotte escapes one marriage only to find herself on the cusp of another, will she ever be free?

 

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble

EXCERPT:

When Penelope was whirled away for a dance by some lord’s youngest son, Charlotte took the opportunity to slip away from the crush and make a hasty exit out to a balcony door. Her head had begun to spin and she feared she might be sick from the drink if she couldn’t get out of the stifling crowd. The balcony was large and its stone railing wrapped around most of the lavish building her father owned. The new electric streetlights illuminated the foggy London streets with a dim yellow glow. The large glass doors that led inside did surprisingly much to mute the loud music and Charlotte was grateful for the cold winter breeze and bit of privacy the balcony offered.

She pulled off the long white gloves she wore and leaned against the railing, inhaling large gulps of fresh air. “How I wish this was all over,” she whispered to the empty streets.

“How can ye wish your own party to be done?” A deep voice asked from the most shadowed of corners.

Charlotte turned around, her light purple skirts flying with the quick motion. “Who’s there?”

A tall man stepped from the darkened place where he had sat on a stone bench. His loose blond hair brushed his shoulders and his blue eyes seemed to flash brightly in the dark. He wore a black military jacket and a sharp yellow and black kilt that looped about his shoulder and was fastened with a silver and emerald pin. Traditional high socks covered his strong legs. A short sword was fastened to his hip by a rugged leather belt and his hand lay casually on its silver hilt. “Conner MacLeod. Chief o’ the MacLeod clan.”

“Charlotte Holloway, daughter of the Duke of Glenwood,” Charlotte answered, stunned by the strange dress and deep Scottish lilt. She wasn’t sure where he had come from, as he certainly would have stood out in the crowd of morning coats and ball gowns. She tried to advert her eyes from the bare swatch of leg that showed between his socks and kilt but could hardly bring herself to look away.

“I know who ye are, of course. This entire party is in your honor. But, I must ask…why do ye wish it over so soon?”

“I’m not much for balls.”

“A pretty lass like you? How can ye no’ be much for balls?” His lips curled in a mischievous smirk. “Do you not like the pomp and circumstance?”

Charlotte felt her cheeks grow warm and she wasn’t sure if it was from the drink or the way the Scotsman looked at her from under his dark lashes. All the same, she sensed in him a kindred spirits of sorts. “I’m not much for society at all. I’d rather be out riding or reading a good book than be stuffed in this dress meeting every eligible bachelor in the city.”

He laughed deeply. “I admire your honesty. Not many lasses are willin’ to admit when a party does no’ suit them.”

“I assume the party doesn’t suit you much either?”

“Not much. Us Scots have been tryin’ to be more respected in our own right. One o’ the ways to do that is to spend a bit o’ time with the English. Make them see we’re not all barbarians.”

“Ah, fraternizing with the enemy?” Charlotte could almost hear Penelope chastising her for speaking so familiarly to a man, and about politics at that!

“Ye could say that.” He brushed his hands through his hair and leaned against the railing beside her, looking over the side. “Ye aren’t cold out here in the night air?”

“No, I rather like being outside no matter what the weather is.” She took another deep breath. “Besides, I do think I drank a bit too much punch.”

“And danced with a few too many borin’ men, most like.”

She giggled, despite being told a hundred times by Abigail that it was very unladylike to do so without shielding your face with a fan. “I suppose that might have something to do with it. But, that’s the job of a duke’s daughter.”

Conner stepped toward her and extended his hand. “Well, since we are both trapped at this comin’ out party, we may as well have a bit o’ fun. Fancy a dance, Lady Glenwood?”

Charlotte took his rough, warm hand in her own. His palms were worn, much unlike those of English gentlemen with their silky smooth hands kept clean in powdered gloves. This man was obviously used to physical activity and hard work. She kept their hands together before remembering she had removed her gloves and left them on the railing. “Oh, I’m sorry!” She pulled away from his grasp before slipping her fingers inside her gloves once more.

“You ladies and your gloves. Scared o’ touchin’ anythin’ without a barrier o’ silk?” he teased.

“I hate them, personally. However, one must play the part at times.”

“And what part are ye playin’?”

“The part of a dutiful daughter.”

“Then it looks to me that you are doin’ a right fine job.” He offered his arm, which she gladly took. “Now, my lady, let’s go have us a dance.”

***

The room hushed slightly as Charlotte entered on Chief Conner MacLeod’s arm. Penelope watched, wide-eyed, as the couple began a lively waltz with the other colorful pairs of dancing guests. Conner was an animated dancer and whirled Charlotte around the floor with surprising ease for someone as rugged as he. She was enjoying herself so greatly that she hardly notice the strange looks some of the guests gave them, nor the look of disapproval on Abigail’s tightly pinched face.

His hands clutched her closely, perhaps closer than was really appropriate. He grinned with the self-confidence that only good-looking men rightly had and gazed at Charlotte with true merriment in his sapphire eyes. Conner didn’t attempt the usual small talk that most men would try during a dance, but just let their mutual joy at having a fine partner fill in the silence between them.

“What a crowd,” Conner whispered into her ear as the music winded down and the dancing couples slowed to a halt. “Ye would think they’d never seen a pair o’ dancers before.”

Charlotte felt a chill go up her spine that she tried to ignore. “I suppose your appearance has caused quite the titter. I must say, we do not see very many Scottish Lords and it always is the surprise.”

“I suppose the man approachin’ us would agree with ye.”

“I am here to collect my dance.” Richard Howard’s monotone voice greeted Charlotte’s back.

Conner dipped a short bow and lightly kissed Charlotte’s hand. Even through the silk of her glove, she felt the heat of his mouth on her skin. “A pleasure, my lady.”

Charlotte blushed again and felt bold enough to ask, “If you stay longer, perhaps we might dance again?”

“Perhaps,” he answered smoothly as he backed away into the crowd. “Perhaps.”

 

 

Author Bio:

 

Kelsey McKnight is a university-educated historian from southern New Jersey. She has married her great loves of romance, history, and literature to create her newly finished works. Her first books, “The Scottish Stone Series”, are coming in April of 2017 by Limitless Publishing. Book one is titled “Queen of Emeralds”, and is available now. “The Scottish Stone Series” take readers on a journey through the bustling streets of Victorian London and into the lush hills of the Scottish Highlands. Her second book, a contemporary romance titled “The Non-Disclosure Agreement”, will also be available in May of 2017 and feature a bad boy politician and the small town girl that could change his ways. When she’s not writing, Kelsey can be found reading, drinking too much coffee, spending time with her family, and working on two nonprofits.

 

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter

 

GIVEAWAY!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

XBTBanner1

Her General in Gray by @LNightingale #historicalromance #TWRP #Giveaway


HerGeneralinGray_w11068_750 (002)

 

Title: Her General in Gray

Author: Linda Nightingale

Publisher: The Wild Rose Press

 

Tagline:

A Massachusetts lass purchases a southern plantation that comes complete with the ghost of a Civil War General—for the Confederacy.  Sparks fly!

 

Blurb:

Autumn Hartley purchases Allen Hall at a steal, but the northern lass gets far more than a beautiful plantation in the South Carolina Low Country. The house comes complete with its own ghost, a handsome and charming Civil War General—for the Confederacy. The stage is set for another civil conflict.

 

John Sibley Allen died in battle from a wound in the back, the bullet fired by the turncoat, Beauregard Dudley. The traitor’s reincarnation is Autumn the Interloper’s first dinner guest. Sib bedevils her date and annoys her with fleeting, phantom touches, certain he can frighten her away as he did previous purchasers. As time marches on, her resident ghost becomes more appealing while her suitor, Beau, pales in comparison. Autumn finds her ability to love didn’t perish in the divorce that sent her south seeking a fresh start.

 

After over a century in the hereafter, Sib discovers he is falling for none other than the feisty Yankee girl, but what future could a modern woman and an old-fashioned ghost possibly hope for?

 

Giveaway (2 Winners):

Enter to win a pdf of any one book of Linda Nightingale’s backlist

 

Enter to win an e-copy of Cardinal Desires

 

To enter, tell us if you could spend a day in any historical time period, what would it be? Leave your answer in the comment box below.

 

Linda Nightingale will choose the winners on Tuesday, April 11, 2017.

 

Excerpt:

“You are not there.” Autumn dropped her book and leapt to her feet, shaking her fist at the apparition standing beside the fireplace.

 

The frolicking blaze shone through the whatever-he-was lounging by the hearth, his arm stretched along the mantel.  A ceramic clock beside his hand chimed the hour—seven golden notes. Tall candles in brass candlesticks flickered in an eerie fire dance. He appeared to be a Civil War soldier of the South, his opaque uniform gray with a nasty red-stained hole near the heart.  Double rows of gold buttons decorated the coat. Three gold stars and a wreath on the collar glittered in the firelight. No blood spilled from the apparition.  Except for his wound, he looked perfectly healthy—for a dead man!  He nodded and bowed elegantly…as much so as his lost society had been, regardless of the strong backs supporting that way of life.

 

“Oh, but I am, Miss Hartley.”  He straightened, longish hair gently curling over his face.

 

A chill raced over her, but she suppressed the tremor of apprehension.  Autumn swallowed hard and adjusted her white cotton blouse.  “I don’t believe in ghosts.  You’re not welcome here. I bought this house and am struggling to pay for it.  Get your Halloween self out of my living room.”

 

He smiled.  “It’s not 0048alloween, and we share this house.  It was mine, you know, and still is.  I’m willing to share it with you—even if you are a Yankee.  After all, the conflict is over, and I’ll hold no grudge against the Northern aggressors. Even though the South will never surrender.”

 

“Northern aggressors?”  She inhaled sharply, the vanilla scent of the candles on the dining room table drifting into the living room.  Everything about Allen Hall was beautiful. She loved the house. But this conversation with an arrogant spirit solidified defiance.  “And, for your information, the South did surrender.”

 

“A point of history.” He shrugged and gave her a condescending glance. “No more.”

 

 

Buy Links:

Publisher http://thewildrosepress/

 

Amazon https://www.amazon.com/Her-General-Gray-Linda-Nightingale-ebook/dp/B06W9HFMBM/

 

Linda Nightingale

 

Author Biography:

Born in South Carolina, Linda has lived in England, Canada, Miami, Ft. Lauderdale, Atlanta and Houston.  She’s seen a lot of this country from the windshield of a truck pulling a horse trailer, having bred, trained and showed Andalusian horses for many years.

 

 

Linda has won several writing awards, including the Georgia Romance Writers Magnolia Award and the SARA Merritt.  She is now a finalist in the 2016 SARA Merritt. She is the mother of two wonderful sons, a retired legal assistant, member of the Houston Miata Club, and enjoys events with that car club.  Among her favorite things are her snazzy black convertible and her parlor grand piano.  She loves to dress up and host formal dinner parties.  PS The piano plays itself!

 

 

Social Media Links:

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/LNightingale

 

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

 

Web Site:  http://www.lindanightingale.com – Visit and look around. There’s a free continuing vampire story.

 

Blog:  https://lindanightingale.wordpress.com/ – Lots of interesting guests & prizes

 

Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/4839311.Linda_Nightingale

 

Pinterest:  https://www.pinterest.com/lbnightingale1/

 

Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/Linda-Nightingale/e/B005OSOJ0U

 

 

 

Edna and Luna by Gleah Powers @GPWriterArtist #fiction #womensfiction #giveaway


edna-luna-ebook-cov_1

 

Title—EDNA AND LUNA

Author —Gleah Powers

Genre—Fiction

Publisher—Vine Leaves Press

 

Book Blurb

Set in the American Southwest, Edna and Luna is the story of two women: a lonely, recently widowed eccentric and a much younger new age healer. Facing old age and a hysterectomy, Edna, at 70, reminisces and ruminates about her losses as she makes unsuccessful attempts to start a new life. She tries to befriend her hairdresser, her gardener and a man she meets at a senior dance who makes sexual advances in the swimming pool. Luna, at 35, ridiculed since childhood for her unorthodox gift of healing, has left a violent husband before moving to a local trailer park. Despite Edna’s initial suspicions that Luna is both out of her mind and after her money, their relationship becomes an odyssey filled with unpredictable depths and discoveries for both women.

 

 

Giveaway—

Enter to win one of two copies of EDNA AND LUNA

Open Internationally and runs April 5 through May 5

Click here to enter: http://gvwy.io/n8lctns

 

 

Excerpt—

Edna wheeled her cart over to the chicken cooler and after scrutinizing the size, weight, date and price, put a three pack of breasts in her cart. She made her way to lemons. She’d had a craving all week for the lemon cake she used to make for Hank on Sundays. As she sniffed one lemon after another testing for sweetness, an unkempt woman appeared beside her and began moving her hands through the air over the pink grapefruits. Her nails were dirty and the joints of her fingers were knobby. Edna had read that that came from too much knuckle cracking. The woman wore a big silver ring with a milky white stone held in place with star-shaped prongs. Edna had seen her in the market before but not this close. Suddenly she felt another twinge in her pelvis and dropped her bag of lemons. She tried the breathing exercise again, but this time it didn’t work. Edna put her hand over her belly and said to the cramp, “Knock it off.”

 

“Were you talking to me?” The tall wiry woman had stringy blonde hair that hung over the sides of her face and Edna could see her nipples through her flimsy top.

 

“No, I wasn’t.”

 

“Am I in your way? I was just checking to see which of these grapefruits wanted to go home with me.” The woman told Edna she’d just moved to town and was scouting the markets in Phoenix to see where she best resonated with the food.

“Are you okay? I noticed you were holding your stomach.”
“I’m fine.”  Edna snapped a plastic bag off the roll above her head.

 

“Are you sure you don’t need some help? I could at least pick out some lemons for you. I just need to touch your arm so I can feel your energy.”

 

“No, thank you.” Edna pulled her shoulders back.

 

“I love that you’re wearing a Christmas tree in the summertime. I do that. Leave my tree up all year long.”

 

“If you must know, it has nothing to do with Christmas. It just so happens December 25th is my birthday. This is a birthday pin.” Edna was tired of feeling obligated to speak and exchange smiles with strangers. Even when she was young, men she didn’t know would come right up to her on a street corner and say, “Smile, honey. It can’t be all that bad.” Now that she was older and a widow, she realized she could get away with things like bumping into people who were in her way or stepping on their feet and then pretending she’d lost her balance, which she decided to do with the barefooted woman now.

 

“Oh, I’m so sorry. Did I hurt you?”

 

“It’s okay.” The woman picked up her foot and began massaging her big toe. “I understand where you’re coming from.”

 

“What? It was an accident.” Edna spun her cart around and headed for the liquor aisle to get her usual half-gallon of Ancient Age. Before checking out, she picked up some frozen dinners and a Sara Lee Fudge cake.  Thank God two people came up behind her in line before the grapefruit woman got there.

 

 

Buy Links—

Amazon US
Amazon UK
Barnes & Noble
Book Depository
Chapters Indigo

 

Kindle AUS
Kindle US
Kindle UK
Kindle CA
iBooks | Kobo | Nook

 

 

Gleah Powers

Author Biography—

Born in Chicago and raised and educated in the American Southwest, Gleah Powers has led a life by turns grounded and nomadic—a perfect preparation for discovering in herself the voices of Edna and Luna. In her early teens, she lived with her grandmother in Phoenix. At 18, she traveled with the production of Michelangelo Antonioni’s Zabriskie Point. (Antonioni, suffering from insomnia, liked that Gleah was a worthy opponent at cards. She even taught him to play gin rummy.) Thereafter she studied art in Mexico City and at Cal Arts in Los Angeles; moved to New York where she worked as an actor, model, bartender and administrative assistant to a wealthy philanthropist; and became an explorer and teacher of alternative therapies. These adventures will be detailed in the memoir she is currently writing. Edna and Luna is her first novel. Visit her website at: www.gleahpowers.com

 

Social Media Links—

https://www.facebook.com/gleahpowersauthor/

https://twitter.com/GPwriterartist

http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15429014.Gleah_Powers

https://www.linkedin.com/in/gleahpowers

http://www.gleahpowers.com/media_kit.html

 

 

Curse of the Healer by @AshleyYork1066 #historicalromance #books #MFRWAuthor


CofH-NOOK

 

Title:   Curse of the Healer

Author:  Ashley York

Genre:  Historical Romance

 

Book Blurb:

After the death of Brian Boru in 1014, a legend arose of a healer so great she could raise a man from the dead, with a power so strong it could make any warrior the next high king of Éire…and to steal it away from her, he need only possess her. 

 

Fated to be a healer…

 

Aednat has spent her entire life training to be the great healer, knowing she must remain alone. When she meets Diarmuid, the intense attraction she feels toward him shakes her resolve to believe in such a legend. If she gives in to the passion he ignites in her, can she settle for being less?

 

Destined to be his…

 

Diarmuid of Clonascra is renowned for his bravery in battle. Only one thing daunts him: the prospect of taking a wife. The safest course would be to keep his distance from Aednat, the bold, headstrong healer who’s far too tempting for his peace of mind. But his overking orders him to protect her from a group of craven warriors intent on kidnapping her to steal her power.

 

What starts as duty for Diarmuid quickly transforms into something more. Aednat’s power might be at risk, but so is his closed-off heart.

 

Excerpt:

 Aednat scoffed. “I do not believe ye.”

 

He stopped close enough for her to see the tiny lines at the corners of his bright blue eyes and the quirk of his heavy brow before he asked, “And why would ye not believe what I say to ye?”

 

“I do not know ye.” Arrogant! “And who are ye to say what the lad’s punishment should be?”

 

He had long, dark hair. Taller than most, he was probably seldom overlooked, and she had a notion his will was rarely denied. His broad shoulders and warrior’s stance were, no doubt, quite frightening… to some. Then he crossed his arms about his broad chest, tucking a hand under the intricately carved silver band clasping his bare upper arm. A wealthy man, then. Perhaps he was a rí túaithe.

 

“Mayhap ye do not recognize me, but ye should heed my warning.”

 

Any king could order that a little boy be punished with a strip of leather, if he were cruel enough, but it was not an accepted practice. Her grandfather had been a cruel . She’d witnessed one lad, Will, barely older than Lorccán, having his fingers sliced right off his hand for stealing food. Aodh Meic Lochlainn had thought it better that the boy starve to death than steal. Will had become her friend—a fellow outcast in the woods.

 

The stranger’s eyes narrowed and she nibbled her lower lip. She couldn’t back down now. “Well, then, ’tis a good thing ye do not get to decide.”

 

He closed the remaining distance between them in three strides, his face etched in angry lines. She instinctively backed away, half expecting him to grab her arm.

 

“Ye’re a lousy mother… or nurse maid… or shepherdess… or whatever ye are, if ye think ’tis all well and good for a child to put himself in harm’s way as long as he lives to tell the tale.”

 

She recoiled at the insult. Although she was well past marrying age at two and twenty, she was no one’s mother and never would be. With her limp, there would never be a husband or family. Too many fears of children with the same malady. Shepherdess? Did she still bear a resemblance to the folk who lived apart from the villagers? But he hadn’t finished his tirade.

 

“He must be taught to heed the warnings he’s been given if he’s to survive and become a man.”

 

The words stung, thrown at her like a venomous curse. She cared for Lorccán as if he were her own and would never do anything to hurt him. Squaring her shoulders, she refused to show her inner turmoil.

 

“The lad learned his lesson.” She spat the words right back at him.

 

“Ye said yerself he’d be doing it again.” Despite the even keel of his voice, his increasing anger was unmistakable. “Or am I so old and feeble that my hearing is failing me?”

 

Staring in the face of his obvious vitality and strength, she hesitated. A finer specimen of a well-honed man she’d not seen. “I do not really believe—”

 

“NO?” A sheer wall of exasperation now, he waited. His square jaw tensed beneath the shadow of dark stubble. “Mayhap the next time ye’ll find his young body impaled on a rock at the bottom of the cliff.”

 

The menacing declaration, delivered in a low, controlled manner, made her gasp. The image flashing through her mind caused it to reel. She slapped the man’s face so hard, his beard burned the palm of her hand.

 

Aednat froze, horrified at her own reaction. Striking a man was no small offense, and if this man was a , the consequences would be serious. His eyes widened right before he caught her arm and yanked her close. Her breath caught, though his grip was not overly firm. They stood that way for a long moment—his head lowered to hers so they stood nose to nose, his broad chest brushing against her forearm in time with his heavy breathing.

 

His gaze dropped, to slowly follow up her length before settling again on her face.

 

That he continued to study her kept her fully watchful. His features relaxed, but she sensed mounting tension in him. The many possibilities of what he might be thinking flitted through her mind like little mice avoiding a hungry hawk. Outrage. Indignation. Superiority.

 

“I forego the fine I have every right to demand for yer action. Instead, I demand a kiss.”

 

He delivered the words as a man in authority. And he did not look away.

 

A kiss? Heat poured off him, but it was no longer anger riding him. She forced down the lump in her throat, holding his intense gaze as her thoughts raced. She had never been kissed by a man. Or kissed a man, but it was not a high price to pay to dismiss the entire incident.

 

Refusing would certainly result in a steeper demand, and the last thing she wanted to do was to cause any problems for her rí túath and cousin. Sean acted as her father, so any honor price demanded or paid could be half his worth. A king held no special power outside his own túath, but at a gathering this size, ruffling any fine feathers was to be avoided.

 

Aednat glanced at the warrior’s lips. His eyes brightened, and she struggled to breath evenly as she held his gaze, anticipation making a mockery of her show of bravery. She wetted her lips, and his long nose flared ever so slightly.

 

“Aednat!” The sound of Sean’s voice had her exhaling in relief. Her reprieve.

 

One dark brow quirked as if to question her thought.

 

“Here,” she answered, irritated that she sounded desperate.

 

“A timely interruption.” The warrior spoke in a quiet voice, his teeth white against the thick brown beard when he smiled. A satisfied smile. “But I’m a patient man.”

 

She should have slapped him harder.

 

Release Day Giveaway:

Enter to win an e-copy of Curse of the Healer. To enter, just leave a comment in the area below and you’ll get one entry. Ashley York will choose a winner over the weekend and we’ll announce it right here Monday, April 3, 2017.

 

 

BUY LINKSCurse of the Healer:

Amazon https://www.amazon.com/Curse-Healer-Descendants-High-King-ebook/dp/B06XC1J99P

iTunes   https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id1210186885

KOBO   https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/curse-of-the-healer

 

Ashley York

 

Author Biography:

Aside from two years spent in the wilds of the Colorado mountains, Ashley York is a proud life-long New Englander and a hardcore romantic. She has an MA in History which brings with it, through many years of research, a love for primary documents and the smell of musty old libraries. With her author’s imagination, she likes to write about people who could have lived alongside those well-known giants from the past.

 

Social Media Links:

Website: www.ashleyyorkauthor.com

Email: ashleyyork1066@gmail.com

Twitter: @ashleyyork1066

 

 

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…

 

Add to Goodreads

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.

 

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter

 

GIVEAWAY!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

XBTBanner1

Thank You For Holding by @jkentauthor and Elisa Reed #romance #giveaway #books




 

Thank You for Holding
Elisa Reed & Julia Kent
Publication date: March 21st 2017
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

 

Having it all is a fantasy, right?

 

Carrie Shelton thought her boyfriend was too good to be true. Her best friend’s brother? A guy who loved antiquing? Who cuddled on the couch while watching foodie YouTube clips and talking about artisanal spices? Who helped her accessorize her outfits?

 

Right.

 

Fantasy.

 

So when he ran off with Kevin, the owner of an antique shop, right before his sister’s wedding, Carrie’s life went from fantasy to nightmare.

 

As maid of honor, she can’t back out of the wedding. And her ex is the best man – but now he has his own best man.

 

She needs a date. Stat.

 

Enter Ryan. Sure, he’s a hot male stripper at the O Spa where she works as junior designer, but he’s a few years younger and just, you know — a friend.

 

Perfect. She needs a friend more than she needs a boyfriend.

 

A weekend of playing her boyfriend so she can save face is a lot to ask, but for some reason Carrie doesn’t understand, Ryan’s all in. Enthusiastic, even.

 

Especially when it comes to physical displays of affection.

 

Public kisses turn to private confessions, and pretty soon, Carrie can’t tell the difference between fantasy and reality.

 

Because if Ryan’s just pretending he’s in love with her, then why does the chemistry between them — and between the sheets — feel so real?

 

Carrie can’t settle for almost, though. She’s already done that. She’s not putting her life on hold anymore.

 

Turns out Ryan won’t, either.

 

He’s holding out for more.

 

Thank You For Holding is a STANDALONE in the On Hold series. You do not need to have read book 1 in the series, but after reading about Carrie and Ryan’s friends-to-lovers adventure, you’ll want to.

 

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

 

Author Bio:

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Julia Kent writes romantic comedy with an edge. From billionaires to BBWs to new adult rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every contemporary romance she writes. Unlike Shannon from Shopping for a Billionaire, she did not meet her husband after dropping her phone in a men’s room toilet (and he isn’t a billionaire). She lives in New England with her husband and three sons in a household where the toilet seat is never, ever, down.

 

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter

 

GIVEAWAY!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

XBTBanner1

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

 

 

GIVEAWAY!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

XBTBanner1

Sacrificial Lam by Gary Guinn @gmguinn is a Gripping #Thriller! #entertowin #TWRP


perf5.000x8.000.indd

 

Title: Sacrificial Lam

 

Author: Gary Guinn

 

Genre: Mainstream Mystery/Thriller

 

Publisher: The Wild Rose Press

 

 

Book Blurb:

When English professor Lam Corso receives a death threat at work, he laughs it off.  A liberal activist at a small Southern conservative college, he’s used to stirring up controversy on campus.  It’s just part of the give and take of life.  Even when violently attacked, Lam is convinced it must be a mistake.  He can’t imagine anyone who would want to kill him for his beliefs.

 

When his home is broken into and his wife’s business vandalized, Lam is forced to face the truth. His wife—a passionate anti-gun crusader—is outraged when Lam brings a gun into the house for protection. The police can’t find a single lead. Left to their own devices, Lam and Susan are forced to examine their marriage, faith, and values in the face of a carefully targeted attack from an assailant spurred into action by his own set of beliefs.

 

What will it cost to survive?

 

Excerpt:

Lying at an odd angle to the road, he opened his eyes and gasped for breath. The sky was clear, the air crisp, the grass damp. His bike lay a few feet to the right of his outstretched hand, the handlebar slightly askew.

 

When he picked himself up off the ground, his left knee was tender where it had struck the handlebar as he went over, and his shoulder hurt where the car mirror hit him. But otherwise he had no apparent injuries. He’d be sore the next day from landing and rolling, but a rush of relief rolled over him. The damn kid could have killed him driving like that. He picked up his bike and examined it. The only real damage was a dislodged rear brake cable. He was damn lucky. It could have been much worse.

 

As he straddled his front tire and struggled to straighten the handlebar, the envelope jutted from the pocket of his jacket. The hair stood on his neck, and he turned and searched the empty street in the direction the car had gone. Nothing. It was a stupid idea. It was just a dumb high school kid, who probably wet his pants when he ran Lam off the road. It had to be a high school kid. But the words of the note came to him—THE JUDGMENT IS DEATH.

 

 

Two Giveaways to Win a Signed Copy:

Rafflecopter  http://gvwy.io/46kqj5b

Goodreads Worldwide https://www.goodreads.com/giveaway/show/225969-sacrificial-lam

 

 

Buy Links:

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/Sacrificial-Lam-Gary-Guinn-ebook/dp/B01MT73VUJ/

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Sacrificial-Lam-Gary-Guinn/dp/1509213058/ref

Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/sacrificial-lam-gary-guinn/1125460487?ean=2940157292218

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/ww/en/ebook/sacrificial-lam

TWRP: http://catalog.thewildrosepress.com/search?controller=search&orderby=position&orderway=desc&search_query=Sacrificial+Lam&submit_search=

 

 Gary Guinn

 

Author Biography:

Gary Guinn’s great, great grandfather moved his family to northern Arkansas from Kentucky after the Civil War. They have lived there ever since. Guinn lives in Siloam Springs, Arkansas, with his wife, Mary Ann, and their lab mix, Seamus, and their Corgi mix, Peanut. He is retired from teaching writing and literature at John Brown University. His first novel, A Late Flooding Thaw, was published by Moon Lake Publishing in 2005. His second novel, Sacrificial Lam, was published by The Wild Rose Press on March 3, 2017. His poetry and fiction have appeared in a variety of magazines, a few of which are The Midwest Poetry Review, Carve, in which his story was a finalist for the Raymond Carver Prize, The Bryant Literary Review, Ghoti, and Elder Mountain: a Journal of Ozark Studies. His short fiction has appeared in several anthologies, the most recent being Yonder Mountain, from the University of Arkansas Press. His favourite pastimes are reading, writing, traveling, and brewing beer (and of course, drinking it).

 

Social Media Links:

Twitter: https://twitter.com/gmguinn

Facebook: Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/garyguinnwriter/

Facebook Personal Page: https://www.facebook.com/

Facebook Book Page: https://www.facebook.com/A-Late-Flooding-Thaw-1792618954333659/

Goodreads Author Page: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/585203.Gary_Guinn

 

 

If Wishes Were Earls by @Luanna_Stewart #historicalromance #romance #giveaway


COVER - If Wishes Were Earls

 

Title: If Wishes Were Earls

 

Author: Luanna Stewart

 

Genre: Historical Romance – Victorian

 

 

Blurb:

 

When a mysterious note directs Miss Miranda Large to a tiny village in Cornwall to find her heart’s desire, she has no choice but to go. An enchanted keepsake heightens her curiosity. A snowstorm forces her to accept the hospitality of a sullen, albeit sexy and handsome, earl and Miranda’s wish doesn’t seem so out of reach.

 

 

Edward Penhallion, the 12th Earl of Claverlock, is not in the mood to start his search for a new wife. He wants to be left alone with his books and his dreams of revenge. But the arrival of a headstrong, sharp-tongued spinster forces him to play the charming host. Not a difficult task, given her intelligence and beauty. Suddenly, he’s not terribly eager for her to leave.

 

 

But as the snow falls and the winds blow, Edward discovers there’s more to Miranda than a lively wit and a lovely face. And Miranda wonders if the trappings of wealth are enough for true happiness.

 

 

 

Excerpt:

He chuckled. The low, enticing sound warmed her from the tips of her ears to the soles of her feet, and made her quite forget her urgent need. “I won’t detain you any longer. It is quite safe for you to turn around. I’m respectably clothed.”

 

She lowered her hand and looked over her shoulder. She’d not noticed much about his face the first time she’d seen him, being distracted by other parts of his anatomy. Her cheeks heated. Oh, heavens, the other parts were all she’d looked at. Not at all similar to those parts on statues, or in paintings. This man’s parts were—impressive. More than her cheeks heated. Why had no one told her a man’s chest, when unclothed, was so thrillingly fascinating?

 

Now, with the distracting portions of his person covered, she could see he was incredibly attractive. Several inches taller than her, which was unusual given her height, with auburn hair a bit longer than current fashion, and brown eyes holding a hint of humor. She might escape unscathed. The bristles on his cheeks and chin matched the hair visible on his chest, for he had not buttoned the neck of his shirt.  He had tucked in the tails, however, and was possessed of muscular thighs.

 

When her gaze travelled up to meet his, a smile lingered in his eyes. “Have you seen enough?”

 

She opened her mouth to refute his implication, but in good conscience could not. She’d been ogling the poor man. Of course she had. What living, breathing woman wouldn’t ogle such a fine specimen?

 

 

 

Giveaway:

Do you believe in wishes? Have you made a wish that has come true? One commenter will receive a hand-knitted (by me) washcloth and a bar of handcrafted soap. (USA and Canada only. International winner will receive a $5 US gift card.)

 

 

 

Buy Links:

Amazon:  https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01N0QJSHA/

 

Nook: http://bit.ly/2ifWvXO
Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/if-wishes-were-earls-2

 

iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/if-wishes-were-earls/id1184695145?mt=11&ign-mpt=uo%3D4

 

All other retailers: https://www.draft2digital.com/book/209375

 

Luanna2_LRsmall

 

Luanna’s Bio:

 

Luanna Stewart has been creating adventures for her imaginary friends since childhood. As soon as she discovered her grandmother’s stash of romance novels, all plots had to lead to a happily-ever-after.

 

 

Born and raised in Nova Scotia, Luanna now lives in Maine with her dear husband, two college boys, and two cats. When she’s not torturing her heroes and heroines, she’s in her kitchen baking something delicious.

 

 

Writing under the pen name Grace Hood, she has two novellas published with The Wild Rose Press.

 

Social Media Links:

Website:  http://www.luannastewart.com/

Twitter:  https://twitter.com/Luanna_Stewart

Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/Luanna.Stewart.nau

Pinterest:  https://www.pinterest.com/luannastewart/

Goodreads:  https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14104212.Luanna_Stewart

Amazon Author Page:  amazon.com/author/luanna_stewart

 

 

 

 

Ares Road by James L. Weaver @jlweaverbooks #books #thriller #giveaway


Ares Road
James L. Weaver
(Jake Caldwell, #2)
Published by: Lakewater Press
Publication date: March 2nd 2017
Genres: Adult, Thriller

With his days as a mob enforcer behind him, Jake Caldwell’s trying to go straight.

 

But it seems his past won’t let him go.

 

His first job working as a private investigator turns up a teenage girl screaming down a dead man’s cell phone, and Logan, his mentor and the only man with answers, beaten into a coma.

 

Now Jake’s taking it personally.

 

The only clues Jake has to unravel the mystery are a Russian with a stolen, silver briefcase and three names: Snell, Parley and Ares. Teaming up with his best friend Bear, the Sheriff of his home town, and an attractive FBI agent, Jake quickly discovers they’re not the only ones looking for the briefcase and its deadly contents.

 

It’s no longer about seeking revenge.

 

The thrilling second book in the Jake Caldwell series is a heart-stopping ride that won’t disappoint fans.

 

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble

EXCERPT:

“How do you know, Mr. Logan?” a uniformed cop named Murphy asked Jake while a couple of young paramedics tended to Logan. Murphy had a low forehead and wide-set eyes, and spoke like he’d been dropped on his head multiple times as a child.

“We work together.”

“You a PI, too?”

“Sort of. I was learning the ropes from Jack. Don’t have a license yet.”

Murphy jotted in a notebook. Paramedics wheeled Logan out of the office on a stretcher, and Jake wondered how they would get him down those three flights of narrow stairs. A rail-thin, black detective with a shaved head and a cheap, tan suit slipped into the room. His polar opposite partner squeezed through the door, red faced with beads of sweat rolling down his jowls from the three-flight climb. The fat one was as tall as he was wide and waddled into Logan’s office. The bald one talked to Murphy, took some notes, and turned to Jake.

“I’m Detective Ogio. You know Jack Logan long, Mr. Caldwell?”

“Three years,” Jake answered. “We were supposed to meet tonight.”

“To do what?”

The detective waited with raised eyebrows for an answer. Ogio’s acorn eyes were hooded, giving him a sleepy look, but there was light there. The guy wasn’t stupid. He was suspicious of Jake, which pissed him off because he’d given them no reason to be suspicious. Plus, Jake couldn’t tell the cop the truth because it would start a whole line of questions he didn’t want to answer. He had to stonewall them.

“We were going out to dinner,” Jake lied.

“Where?”

“Does it matter?”

“It does if I’m asking the question.”

“I didn’t do this,” Jake said.

“I didn’t say you did. You’re a big guy, though. Six two and what…two hundred twenty pounds?”

“Six three, two thirty. Like that matters. Why would I beat the shit out of him and then call you guys?”

“Like I said, I didn’t say you did. Why are you getting defensive?”

“You think I’m being defensive?” Jake asked.

Ogio’s head ticked to the side. “A little.”

“I’m worried, that’s all. My buddy just got his ass kicked.”

“What were you guys working on?”

Jake shifted, tired of answering these banal questions.

“We were between jobs.”

“Must make it tough to learn the ropes.”

“What ropes?”

Ogio’s thin lips pressed together. “The ones Officer Murphy said you were learning from Mr. Logan.”

“A bit. We done here? I want to go to the hospital.”

“Why do you think Mr. Logan’s office was trashed?”

“Somebody was looking for something.” Jake hoped the detective caught his sarcasm. He laid it on pretty thick.

“You think? Maybe you should be a detective.”

“Maybe you should too.”

Ogio grinned. He clearly had a good nature. “He say anything to you about anyone being after him?”

“He said he did a lot of divorce cases. Maybe someone looked for photos of their cheating wife.”

“Always possible,” the detective said. He handed Jake his card—Thomas Ogio.

“Where are they taking Logan?”

“Truman Medical Center,” Ogio answered, flipping his notebook shut. “You got my number. Call me if you think of anything else. Stay reachable.”

Ogio headed toward Logan’s office to join his partner. Jake strode out the door, down the steps, and out into the early March evening. He stood on the sidewalk wondering what to do. Did Logan meet with his contact that would lead them to Voleski? Did the contact do this to him? Was this about another case? Somebody wanted something up there and it wasn’t divorce photos. What did Logan say? The less you know on this one, the better.

Jake rubbed his hand over the day’s growth on his face. The one person who could answer his questions and give him a direction to go was Logan. Jake jumped in his truck and headed toward Truman Medical Center.

 

Author Bio:

James L Weaver is the Kansas City author of the Jake Caldwell series featuring IAN Thriller of the Year finalist Poor Boy Road and soon to be released Ares Road from Lakewater Press. He makes his home in Olathe, Kansas with his wife of 19 years and two children. His previous publishing credits include a six part story called “The Nuts” and his 5-star rated debut novel Jack & Diane which is available on Amazon.com. Author note: a handful of the raters are actually not related to him.

 

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter

 

GIVEAWAY!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

XBTBanner1

They’re Just Partners … The Partnership by @charpennclark #romance #NewAdult


The Partnership
Charlotte Penn Clark
(Extra Credit, #1)
Publication date: March 1st 2017
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance

They’re just partners….

 

Kyle’s got a problem. He needs to pass college composition to graduate but he can’t get words on a page. And it’s landed him in a pilot class called Extra Credit for students in trouble — when all he wants is to be left alone.

 

Lani’s got a problem too. She doesn’t like making waves and it gets her stuck in that Extra Credit class. When she ends up partnered with Kyle things start getting complicated. Kyle is angry, restless, impatient; Lani is calm, introverted, bookish. But when these opposites attract how will they manage to stay “just partners”?

 

Extra Credit is a New Adult series that takes place on a college campus and puts three unlikely couples together to see what happens. Each novella is in dual point-of-view with a happy ending that can be read as a standalone, though they’re better together…! The series includes sexy times that are only meant for readers over 18.

 

Goodreads / Amazon

LANI’S READING LIST

Lani Ito, the heroine of THE PARTNERSHIP (Extra Credit #1) by Charlotte Penn Clark, is a voracious reader and a gifted writer of dance criticism…. Here are ten of her favorite books! Enjoy!

  • Charlotte Bronte’s Jane Eyre, where the pushover pushes back!
  • F. Scott Fitzgerald’s Great Gatsby for the sheer beauty of the prose, and because the movie is gorgeous too.
  • The Grand Sophy by Georgette Heyer is a classic romance with another irresistible cranky hero… (and it’s even on Kindle Unlimited!).
  • To learn the craft of arts criticism you can’t do better than Pauline Kael, who makes it okay to have (and defend) a strong opinion.
  • For ballet buffs and New Yorkers, George Balanchine and his New York City Ballet set a high bar(re!).
  • And finally, spoiler alert! By the end of the series Lani will make use of Molly Bloom’s famous last words in James Joyce’s Ulysses… wait and see!

courtesy of Charlotte Penn Clark

sign up for my newsletter here!

 

Author Bio:

 

Charlotte Penn Clark is a lifelong reader of historical romances and a writer of contemporary and new adult romances. She puts smart women and sexy men in complicated situations while trying to keep them away from Awful Misunderstandings. Her Carmichael series interweaves the lives and loves of five privileged sisters in a political family. Her new series, Extra Credit, tells the stories of three unlikely couples thrown together on a college campus. She lives in New York City with her family.

 

For updates on new releases and blog posts sign up for her newsletter here: http://eepurl.com/b4VXN1

 

Website / Goodreads / Twitter

 

GIVEAWAY!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

XBTBanner1

Found! Jayson Hamilton… #FinishLine by @cambriahebert #NA #Romance




 

#FinishLine
Cambria Hebert
(GearShark #5)
Publication date: February 27th 2017
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance

 

Every race has a finish line.

Where you go after you cross it is what matters most.

And sometimes, that’s the most intriguing.

Here at GearShark, we’ve featured lots of drivers.

All of them are well acquainted with the finish line.

And as race fans, we’re well acquainted with cheering as they cross it.

What we aren’t privy to is riding shotgun, seeing where they drive once the race is over.

Our interviews barely scratch the surface, offering just a glimpse of the men and women behind the wheel.

The discovery of vanished Motocross sensation Jayson Hamilton, who has been right under our noses for years, proves secrets abound.

It’s time to dig deep. Look beyond the racetrack at the drivers who continue to pique our interest. In addition to scoring an exclusive, all-access interview with the elusive Jayson Hamilton (his first and only since the death of his fellow racer and partner Matt Lewis), we’ve caught up with some of our most popular featured men and women in the racing world.

Where are they now?

Who are they now?

What do these hot commodities do when they escape the spotlight?

Rumors of weddings, babies, and new tattoos swirl through the media on a weekly basis.

And though we’re headlining the hashtag #Finishline, we’re far from finished.

In fact, we’re just getting started.

This newest issue of GearShark is jam packed with everything you’ve been dying to know…

and it just might be our biggest page-turner yet.

 

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / Kobo

Excerpt from #FINISHLINE

GearShark #5

Copyright by Cambria Hebert; do not copy or distribute

Hopper

“What’s wrong?” he demanded the second I opened the door.

“Nothing,” I said and motioned for him to come in.

He pulled off his Oakleys and slid one earpiece beneath the neck of his dark-blue T-shirt so they were out of his hands and stepped into the apartment.

His eyes searched out his brother, wanting to be sure all was well.

“He isn’t here,” I said and shut the door.

Lorhaven turned. “Where is he?”

“Meeting,” I replied.

“Why aren’t you there?” He scrutinized.

“Because I didn’t need to be.” I cleared my throat. “And, I, ah, wanted to talk to you. Alone.”

His eyes narrowed suspiciously. “Why?”

Arrow’s big brother was an asshole. It wasn’t anything new to me, and his constant suspicious demeanor didn’t offend me like it used to. I understood his extreme overprotective nature when it came to Arrow (and Joey). I even respected it.

There was a time when I doubted we would ever get along. Hell, sometimes I still doubted it. But ever since the day I raced across the track to pull Arrow out of a multicar pile-up, things were different between me and Lorhaven.

Friendlier.

He welcomed me to the family that day, and since then, he’d backed up his handshake with actions. Arrow and I hung out with him and Joey regularly, something I knew meant a lot to A. To me, too.

Joey was my first and only real friend since Matt died. The months we’d spent not really speaking had hurt. To have her friendship back along with a new one in Lorhaven gave me the sense of family I’d deprived myself of for so long.

“There’s something I want to ask you,” I said. He made a sound, sort of an agreement, and shrugged out of the jacket to fling it over the back of the couch. “You called me down here because you want to ask me a question?”

“It’s not something I could do over the phone.”

He folded his arms over his chest and regarded me in a way that would probably make a lesser man piss his pants. Lorhaven didn’t intimidate me. He never did, and he never would.

But, uh, yeah… I was anxious right now. “I know how close you are to A.” I began. “He told me you’re more like a dad to him than The Fucker ever was.”

Lorhaven’s arms dropped to his sides. “He told you that?”

I nodded. “Yeah. And honestly, I’m fucking grateful to you for that.”

Shock widened his very dark eyes. I committed the look to memory as I smothered a smile. I’d likely not see that look on his face ever again.

My voice dropped. “I think you were the one thing that stood between Arrow and total shutdown a few years ago.”

“Until you came along,” he replied, gruff.

“Thank you for everything you did for him, for everything you do. I know you already know how much he appreciates you, but now you know I do, too.”

“He’s my family,” he said, like it was all he needed to say.

I half smiled.

“As touching as this is…” Lorhaven studied me. “Why do I get the feeling you want something?”

“Because I do.” I took a deep breath. “I want Arrow.”

He made a sound. “Pretty sure you already got that.”

I shook my head once. “I want to marry him.”

Lorhaven jolted like someone tossed a bucket of ice water over his head. “You wanna what?”

“I’m gonna ask Arrow to marry me, but before I do, I’d like your permission.”

 

Author Bio:

 

Cambria Hebert is an award winning, bestselling novelist of more than twenty books. She went to college for a bachelor’s degree, couldn’t pick a major, and ended up with a degree in cosmetology. So rest assured her characters will always have good hair.

 

Besides writing, Cambria loves a caramel latte, staying up late, sleeping in, and watching movies. She considers math human torture and has an irrational fear of chickens (yes, chickens). You can often find her running on the treadmill (she’d rather be eating a donut), painting her toenails (because she bites her fingernails), or walking her chorkie (the real boss of the house).

 

Cambria has written within the young adult and new adult genres, penning many paranormal and contemporary titles. Her favorite genre to read and write is romantic suspense. A few of her most recognized titles are: The Hashtag Series, Text, Torch, and Tattoo.

 

Cambria Hebert owns and operates Cambria Hebert Books, LLC.

 

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Pinterest

 

GIVEAWAYS!

PLUS:

a Rafflecopter giveaway

XBTBanner1

Shattering Truths by @KyrianLyndon Blog Tour: #GuestPost + #Giveaway! #books




 

Shattering Truths
Kyrian Lyndon
(Deadly Veils, #1)
Publication date: January 30th 2017
Genres: Suspense, Young Adult

 

She was left fighting her demons alone . . .

 

For sixteen-year-old Danielle DeCorso, the old house in Glastonbury was an eerie place to grow up. Coping with mental health challenges exacerbated by a traumatic family dynamic, Danielle watches from the window for two men in a dusty black sedan who keep circling the house and harassing her with phone calls. The two predators drugged her and her cousin, Angie, and then lured them from Pleasure Beach in Bridgeport to a secluded cottage on Long Beach West. She remembers feeling dizzy, the room spinning. She recalls screaming, crying, fighting, and then slipping in and out of consciousness. Angie, however, has no recollection of the incident.

 

When Danielle attempts to jog Angie’s memory and convince their best friend, Farran, that the two strangers had victimized them, no one seems to believe her. Alone in her pain, Danielle remains guarded, obsessed, and withdrawn. Soon she is sinking deeper into a tumultuous world of adolescent isolation and change. Grief, guilt, and anger send her spiraling into an even darker place.

 

Tormented by terrifying nightmares, she fears she will lose her sanity, or possibly her soul. Is she having post-traumatic stress hallucinations, as one of her friends suggest, or are her recurring nightmares as real as they seem? Trapped in an unyielding emotional bondage, Danielle continues the fight to reclaim her power. Startling revelations awaken her newfound spirit, inspiring a once naïve girl to grow into a woman of defiance and courage.

 

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Smashwords

IN THE DIMMEST LIGHT: A Guest Post

I wake up at four a.m. every day, including weekends and holidays, and write for hours. It starts with nothing more than a 40-watt amber-shade lamp lit in the darkest hours, where I can see the moon outside my window. The focus is intense. It is light before long.

 

Creating characters and the worlds they live in began as a childhood obsession. I wrote down names then added descriptions, developing their stories by continuing to add details. I had no idea why I did this at the time. My parents worried for a while. They relaxed a bit as I went on to write fairy tales and poems. When I wrote my first novel at 16, I used parts of those descriptions.

 

I held many jobs since then – secretary, assistant book manufacturing representative, assistant to the casting director, computer system administrator, and paralegal/legal assistant. One summer, I was shooting photos for a model’s portfolio. Another day I’d be chatting with musicians about putting a band together. My ego was insatiable, so I was all over the place, wanting to do everything. I told myself, all I want to do is write while being sidetracked at every turn.

 

Life went on, rife with challenges, full of adventures. I roamed the darkest corners to learn about the world and myself. Setbacks knocked me down. I would get up eventually and find my way again.

 

More and more so, I began telling my story in the novels I wrote. I became so immersed in the reality of it, I would not steer off its course long enough to let my imagination truly come alive. I started over several times until I realized I didn’t sign on for this to tell my story. A storyteller can tell any story she wants, and so I was back on track.

 

To be fair, I learned about the book publishing process working in publishing. I chased down literary agents, got a press kit, and formed a writer’s club. I continued to educate myself about writing. I subscribed to the relevant publications. I contributed to an anthology, had letters published. There were assignments and proposals I turned down wanting to be true to myself and the integrity of my work. I was devoted to mastering my craft.

 

I realize, too, I’d been busy healing. It was necessary for me to find the courage to free myself of belief systems that kept me in bondage. Until we fully heal, we remain in bondage to something or another and prone to all kinds of obsession. Disentangling from all that is a painful process and a lot of work but well worth it. Past turmoil is the baggage we can carry forever or make lighter and less cumbersome by checking it.

 

Perhaps it’s different for everyone, but the process is the same. It is discovering what you do not want nor want to be; who or what impedes you; who and what strengthens you. Learning to trust your instincts is essential. If I couldn’t do that as a human being, I surely could not do it as a writer.

 

In the healing process, I got a much-needed downsizing of ego. I went from “needing” attention to shying away from it with a reluctance to put myself out there. I am a firm believer that when it comes to extremes, neither extreme is right. It had to be somewhere in the middle. It’s been all about balance for me.

 

Becoming a parent along the way helped. It is a rare and unconditional love, and love of that magnitude motivates you to be the best person you can ever hope to be. It lifts you out of victimhood and allows you to live as the empowered hero in your own heart and to set the example.

 

Today I feel the greatest gift I have to give anyone is a true and genuine heart. That means questioning my intentions and, if necessary, correcting my steps.

 

Now, with a clear view of the story I want to tell, I’ve been busy incorporating my past novels into a series that could be six to eight books and possibly more. I have outlined and drafted the series and am in the process of finalizing.

 

I’m grateful to have a passion, something I love to do, and get to spend time doing every day – a joy that saves me, always.

 

© Copyright July 14, 2014 by Kyrian Lyndon at kyrianlyndon.com. All rights reserved. No reproduction permitted without permission.

 

 

Author Bio:

 

Kyrian Lyndon is the author of Shattering Truths, the first book in her Deadly Veils series. She has also published two poetry collections, A Dark Rose Blooms, and Remnants of Severed Chains. Kyrian began writing short stories and fairy tales when she was just eight years old. In her adolescence, she moved on to poetry. At sixteen, while working as an editor for her high school newspaper, she wrote her first novel, and then completed two more novels at the ages of nineteen and twenty-five.

 

Born and raised in Woodside, Queens, New York, Kyrian was the middle of three daughters born to immigrants —her father from Campochiaro, Italy; her mother from Havana, Cuba. She has worked primarily in executive-level administrative positions with major New York publishing companies. She resides on Long Island in New York.

 

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Pinterest / Instagram / Tumblr / Google+

 

GIVEAWAY!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

XBTBanner1

Chameleon by @zoekalowriter Book Blitz #YALit #Gothic #Giveaway @XpressoTours


Chameleon
Zoe Kalo
Publication date: February 2nd 2017
Genres: Gothic, Young Adult

An isolated convent, a supernatural presence, a dark secret…

17-year-old Paloma only wanted to hold a séance to contact her dead father. She never thought she would be kicked out of school and end up in an isolated convent. Now, all she wants is to be left alone. But slowly, she develops a bond with a group of girls: kind-hearted Maria, insolent Silvy, pathological liar Adelita, and their charismatic leader Rubia.

When, yet again, Paloma holds a séance in the hope of contacting her father, she awakens an entity that has been dormant for years. And then, the body count begins. Someone doesn’t want the secret out… Are the ghost and Paloma’s suspicions real—or only part of her growing paranoia and delusions?

Goodreads / Amazon

Are you a book reviewer?

Request a review copy here!

EXCERPT:

Madre Estela remained standing by the door. “Get a bucket and fill it with water.”

Her hypercritical eyes sliced through my self-worth as I grabbed one of the metal buckets, lifted it into the sink, and turned on the faucet. I watched, transfixed, as the water gushed like a torrent spurting from an open artery. The cold spray raised goosebumps on my arms.

Madre Estela snapped her fingers. “Move.”

As I hauled the bucket to the door, some of the water slushed over the edge and splattered to the floor.

“Add the detergent,” she said stiffly, irritated by my clumsiness.

I chose a green bottle, twisted the cap, and poured. The acrid pine smell stung my nostrils.

“Get a sponge and a brush from there. Get going. We don’t have all evening—unless you want to work in the dark.”

I gritted my teeth, but pretended not to be bothered. I suspected that the one thing that this nun couldn’t stand was indifference.

Outside, it was almost dusk. In spite of the intense screeching of the coquíes, the drum of the waterfall hit my ears. It was louder now than the last time I’d been here. How was that possible?

I felt a drop of rain. Great.

Madre Estela put one hand out, palm up. “My, my. What’s this?” She looked chagrined, and I suddenly realized why. If it rained, I would have to go inside, ruining her plans. “What are you standing there for? Start scrubbing.”

I was tempted to throw the bucket of greenish water at her face. Instead, I prayed for rain as I walked across the rose garden. Once at the gate, I glanced back at her.

“You’ll work until I come for you, understood?” she said, hands on hips in her usual stance. She pointed to one of the second-floor windows. “I’ll be watching from there.”

And that was it. She was gone.

For a moment I just stood there. If only my friends could see me now. They would never believe it.

I opened the gate and walked into the graveyard. The statue of Gabriel greeted me, its face fiercer in the dusk. The temperature must have been in the low seventies. I was glad I had my cardigan.

Suddenly, the garden lamp post lit up. I turned, startled. I wasn’t sure if it had automatically switched on or if someone, maybe Madre Estela, had done it from indoors. I glanced up at the second-floor window, expecting to find her face. I had the chilling sensation of being watched. There was nothing. The windows glowed with yellow light, a multitude of feral eyes keeping guard.

However, behind one of the ground-floor windows on the right, a figure appeared. Tall, blurred. Madre Superiora? I was sure that was her office. Yet, something about the shape of the head and the shoulders made me think of…Rubia. What was she doing in Madre Superiora’s office?

Just as abruptly as it’d appeared, the figure vanished from view.

The incident left me strangely unsettled.

Focus.

I splashed some of the water on one of the tombstones and got to work. The sound of hard bristles against stone blocked the hum of the waterfall. Almost.

Go away, damn it.

As I crouched to work on a second tombstone, doing my best not to get wet in the process, something shifted at the edge of my vision. I jumped to my feet, my heart thudding. Gabriel. Its wings had rippled with movement.

Dear God…what’s happening to me?

I rubbed my forehead and grimaced, my fingers shaking.

I felt another drop of rain. If it was going to rain, why didn’t it? The sky was playing with me, too. Mocking me.

I cursed the clouds and started scrubbing again.

I had another sensation of being watched and this time, yes, it was Madre Estela behind the window. I pretended I hadn’t seen her and tried to keep focused on the task at hand. The water had turned blackish with grime.

I don’t know how long I scrubbed. I lost track of time. But it was dark. My back and shoulders were sore and my hands stung from the harsh detergent.

Madre Estela was long gone from the window.

Half panting, I sat down on the edge of the tombstone and tossed the brush aside in disgust. I looked at the statue again, but it was motionless. I turned to the windows again, my eyes slowly moving from one to the other.

From one to the other.

Expecting to see the face. Wanting to see it.

Nothing.

Yet, that weird sensation of being watched, again.

My gaze shifted to the woods, to the exact place where the cemetery ended and the forest started. There was a path there. Narrow, obscured by the trees. For a long moment I sat, mesmerized. Then I stood up and began to approach it. The breeze picked up as I got closer, carrying with it the cool, slightly pungent smell of the waterfall.

I stopped at the very edge, the darkness enveloping me, the dampness seeping through my clothes.

The wind sighed, rustling the leaves and fluttering my hair.

Icy breath, on the back of my neck.

I’m in here… a voice whispered from the shadows.

I spun around in terror.

Then I hit something hard.

 

Author Bio:

A certified bookworm and ailurophile, Zoe Kalo has always been obsessed with books and reading. Reading led to writing—compulsively. No surprise that at 16, she wrote her first novel, which her classmates read and passed around secretly. The pleasure of writing and sharing her fantasy worlds has stayed with her, so now she wants to pass her stories to you with no secrecy—but with lots of mystery. She lives amongst cats and books in Belgium, and is the author of the Cult of the Cat young adult fantasy series and the Retribution novella series for adults.

 

Sign up for her newsletter at http://www.ZoeKalo.com and get her exclusive short story “Irkalla.”

 

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter

 

GIVEAWAY!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

XBTBanner1

The Author Behind – and Within – The Ceruleans: @BookishCharlie #NA #Giveaway #books


ceruleans-poster

 

‘Every author in some way portrays himself in his works, even if it be against his will.’ I knew this quotation from Johann Wolfgang von Goethe from my university days, but until I wrote The Ceruleans, I had no idea how accurate it is.

When I set out to write The Ceruleans series, I knew there would be something of myself in it, because a central concept in the first book, Death Wish, of grief in the aftermath of losing a loved one, was inspired by my own experiences. ‘Write what you know’ is an old adage and a good one; I know grief, so I decided to write about grief.

I did not, however, intend to write five books that so closely aligned to my own emotional journey. As I write in the author’s note at the end of Book 5: ‘The story isn’t my own, but the feelings are, and it has been dark and deep and beautiful to share these truths with you.

Neither did I intend to write a heroine with such a similar disposition to me. Scarlett differs from me in some pretty significant ways, but her sensitivity and her desire for a quiet life come directly from me. Would I like to live in cottage on a cliff in a sleepy Devonshire cove? Absolutely!

Remember Goethe’s words ‘even if it be against his will’? As a writer, when you discover you are exposing parts of yourself through fiction, you feel vulnerable; and that drives a desire to hack away at the manuscript, stripping yourself out. I could have rewritten The Ceruleans with a more thick-skinned heroine and less emotional resonance. I didn’t, though, because where’s the meaning in that?

As Franz Kafka put it, ‘Writing is utter solitude, the descent into the cold abyss of oneself.’ Publishing your writing, however, offers a way out of that solitude – if you’ve been honest and brave enough to infuse the writing with elements of yourself, so that you are not merely the author behind the words, but the author within the words.

 

the-ceruleans-book-1

Death Wish (The Ceruleans I) by Charlotte Wilson

IN SEARCH OF THE MEANING OF DEATH, SHE’LL FIND THE MEANING OF LIFE.

Seventeen-year-old Scarlett Blake is haunted by death. Her sister has made the ultimate dramatic exit: run away from school, join a surfing fraternity, drown in a tragic ‘accident’.

Following in her sister’s footsteps, Scarlett comes to an isolated English cove to uncover the truth. And, as it turns out, to fall in love with the place and its people, especially a certain blue-eyed surfer with a serious case of the heroics.

But as Scarlett’s quest for the truth unravels, so too does her grip on reality as she’s always known it. Because there’s something strange going on in this little cove. A dead magpie circles the skies. A dead deer watches from the undergrowth. Hands glow with light. Power.

What transpires is a summer of discovery: of what it means to conquer fear, to fall in love, to choose life, to choose death.

To believe the impossible.

 

the-ceruleans-book-2

Forget Me Not (The Ceruleans II) by Charlotte Wilson

IN THE FACE OF DEATH, SHE MUST PROTECT THOSE SHE LOVES.

Death is stalking Scarlett Blake. As if the encroaching darkness in her head wasn’t enough, she’s become disturbingly accident prone. Falling off a cliff isn’t ideal when all you want is as much time as possible to live the life you love.

But the clock is ticking, louder with every heartbeat, and now Scarlett must decide how best to protect the people she loves.

Will she trust in Jude and the life-after-death he promises? Will she stand against the Fallen, who have her sister captive? Will she carry the burden of her death alone – every headache, every hallucination, every harrowing emotion?

And when the clock falls silent, will Scarlett fight for life? Or will she surrender to the one who’s determined to kill her?

 

the-ceruleans-book-3

Wild Blue Yonder (The Ceruleans III) by Charlotte Wilson

IN A WARPED HEAVEN, SHE MUST CHOOSE HER FATE: OBEDIENCE OR REBELLION

When Scarlett Blake chose to Become a Cerulean, she expected to grieve for all she left behind. But at least Cerulea, her heaven, would be… well, heavenly. Right?

Wrong. The world in which Scarlett awakens is picturesque, sure, and serene. But there can be no paradise within the unforgiving walls of a prison, be they of cold, hard stone or beautifully blue water.

Now Scarlett faces her hardest decision yet: be a good, dutiful Cerulean, or be true to herself and fight for freedom.

And if she can find a way to escape, what then? Can she save her sister from the murderous Fallen? Can she evade her destiny with the Ceruleans? Can she ever reclaim her life-before-death… or must she let go of all she loves?

 

the-ceruleans-book-4

Devil and the Deep (The Ceruleans IV) by Charlotte Wilson

STORM CLOUDS ARE GATHERING, AND THEY WILL RAIN BLOOD.

Scarlett is living her happy-ever-after, back in the real world. Only the ‘happy’ part is proving problematic.

For starters, there’s the isolation. Being a Cerulean among humans is fraught with risk, so time with those she loves can only be fleeting.

Then there’s her power over life and death. Less awesome talent, as it turns out, and more overwhelming responsibility – and it comes with rules that are increasingly difficult to obey.

But what’s really pushing Scarlett to the precipice is something much bigger than her life in the cove. A force to be reckoned with: blood.

When long-buried truths are exposed, will Scarlett keep her head above water – or will she drown in the blood-dimmed tide that is unleashed?

 

the-ceruleans-book-5

Darkly, Deeply, Beautifully (The Ceruleans V) by Charlotte Wilson

DARKNESS HAS FALLEN, AND SHE ALONE WILL SEE THE LIGHT.

With her mother’s life hanging in the balance, Scarlett is devastated – and done with being in the dark. She wants answers, all of them.

But when was her pursuit of the truth ever straightforward?

Pulling a single thread impels a great unravelling. And each revelation will force Scarlett to rethink what she thought she knew about the Ceruleans, the Fallen, her family – herself.

All that came before was a mere prelude to this, the final journey – to where it all began and it all must end. But in the final reckoning, none will survive unscathed. And some will not survive at all.

In this explosive conclusion to The Ceruleans series, all must be defined by their actions: sinner, saint… or something more beautiful entirely?

 

dw-teaser-3

 

Buy Links:

https://www.amazon.com/Charlotte-Wilson/e/B00TDH4XLS/

https://www.kobo.com/gb/en/ebook/death-wish-30

https://itunes.apple.com/us/author/charlotte-wilson/id200555

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/death-wish-charlotte-wilson/1125314541

charlotte-wilson

 

Charlotte Wilson Biography:

Once upon a time a little girl told her grandmother that when she grew up she wanted to be a writer. Or a lollipop lady. Or a fairy princess. ‘Write, Charlotte,’ her grandmother advised. So that’s what she did.

Thirty-odd years later, Charlotte is a professional writer. For authors and publishers, she writes and edits books as The Book Specialist. For herself, she writes soulful, coming-of-age romance for young adults.

Charlotte grew up in the Royal County, a hop, skip and a (very long) jump from Windsor Castle, but these days she makes her home in a village of Greater Manchester with her husband and two children. When she’s not reading or writing, you’ll find her walking someplace green, baking up a storm, or embarking on a DIY project. She recently achieved a lifetime ambition of creating a library in her home to house her ever-increasing collection of books. She pretends not to notice that the shelves are rather wonky.

 

You can find Charlotte online at:

www.thebookspecialist.com

https://twitter.com/bookishcharlie

https://www.facebook.com/bookishcharlie

https://www.instagram.com/bookishcharlie/

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15932269.Charlotte_Wilson

 

Giveaway:

Did someone say free books? Yes, five of them.

Charlotte’s  giving away a full set of the Ceruleans novels in print: that’s all the new-edition paperbacks delivered to your door (wherever that is in the world).

Entry is via Rafflecopter below, and is open to all. Good luck!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

Shopping for a Billionaire’s Honeymoon by @jkentauthor #romance #comedy #giveaway




 

Shopping for a Billionaire’s Honeymoon
Julia Kent
Publication date: January 31st 2017
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Romance

 

He is addicted to his phone and his new role as CEO. I’m addicted to getting some on my own honeymoon.

 

One of these things is not like the other.

 

I am pretty sure a serial killer’s lair is the only place in the world where I could stash my new husband so he can’t manage the acquisition of our new company.

 

And that seems a little drastic.

 

But only a little…

 

All I want is one week alone with him. Hours in bed, legs tangled together in ecstasy, room service and long walks on the beach in Hawaii.

 

Not vying for his kisses around a Bluetooth microphone. The Borg aren’t sexy in real life.

 

So I’m taking matters into my own hands and hitting “reboot” on our honeymoon.

 

We’re going to a place so remote that no one can find us.

 

Not even my mother.

Shopping for a Billionaire’s Honeymoon is now a full-length book of 150+ pages, with both Shannon and Declan’s points of view. Originally published with only Shannon’s viewpoint, this expanded edition is a result of reader feedback. People wanted to know what Declan was up to – so here you go. This book is meant to be read after Shopping for a Billionaire’s Wife and/or Shopping for a CEO’s Fiancée, but if you read it out of order (or even as a standalone), that’s fine. Shannon and Declan forgive you.

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

EXCERPT:

Shannon

Let’s do an inventory of this fine day. My day-after-I-got-married day. In Vegas.

After fleeing my Momzilla mother.

Today is supposed be Day One of my honeymoon after marrying the billionaire of my dreams.

(Let’s not count the night before).

Woke up to the lovely sight of my husband’s tousled dark hair sliding down my torso so he could feast on me for breakfast.

Had actual breakfast in bed after room service delivered mixed berries, cream, bacon, and maple-soaked carrot-cake french toast, and the best damn coffee on the planet from the coffee chain I now own.

Made love with my delightful husband in the giant jetted bathtub in our suite. Turns out I’m as bendy as a Cirque du Soleil performer when I need to be. Maybe Mom’s insistence that I attend all those yoga classes she teaches has a silver lining after all.

Dressed and prepared to hop the corporate jet for Hawaii, kisses interspersed between readying ourselves for the trip. Undressed twice. Dressed twice. Declan insisted I not wear panties for the plane trip.

“But I’m already a member of the Mile High Club,” I’d protested.

“Not as a wife.”

He had a point.

Panties abandoned.

Found his brother, my best friend, a former colleague and an Anterdec chauffeur all married to each other.

Notice something a little different about that last one?

Yeah. Me too.

Day One of my honeymoon had promise, but now? Now it’s a little too real.

We’re on the plane, settling into our seats, and I’m doing my best not to think about my poor best friend and her chaotic mess back at the Anterdec resort where Declan and I just spent nearly a week trying to figure out our entire life.

Which we did, successfully, to my utter surprise. After fleeing our wedding in a helicopter and lying to my Momzilla mother, we managed to get to Las Vegas, ensconced in a resort on the Vegas Strip that Declan had designed himself as an intern in college. By the time my crazy family caught up to us, we’d steeled ourselves for the inevitable fallout.

And got so much more than we expected, in more ways than one. We’re married now. Husband and wife.

That’s really all that matters.

That, and honeymoon sex.

Lots and lots and lots of honeymoon sex. It’s my wifely right to walk funny for the next few days.

And his husbandly duty to make it so.

 

 

Author Bio:

 

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Julia Kent writes romantic comedy with an edge. From billionaires to BBWs to new adult rock stars, Julia finds a sensual, goofy joy in every contemporary romance she writes. Unlike Shannon from Shopping for a Billionaire, she did not meet her husband after dropping her phone in a men’s room toilet (and he isn’t a billionaire). She lives in New England with her husband and three sons in a household where the toilet seat is never, ever, down.

 

Website / Facebook / Twitter

 

 

GIVEAWAY!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

XBTBanner1

Destined to Die: The Kingmaker by @GemmaPerfect #books #YA #fantasy


The Kingmaker
Gemma Perfect
(The Kingmaker Trilogy, #1)
Publication date: January 1st 2017
Genres: Fantasy, Young Adult

 

“I am sixteen years old and I will die on the morning of my seventeenth birthday. As tradition dictates, I will be sacrificed and my life’s blood will determine which one of my two brothers will be King. My blood will kill one and crown one. My name is Everleigh and I am the Kingmaker.”

 

The legend of the Kingmaker goes back millions of years. Their magic chooses the rightful King of the Realm and they all die on their seventeenth birthday.

 

Except this one.

 

Everleigh is special.

 

She is the Kingmaker who will live, the Kingmaker who will rule, the Kingmaker who will be Queen.

 

But not everyone agrees with an age old prophecy that says that a girl will rule the Realm and soon Everleigh is locked in a deadly battle for the throne.

 

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

EXCERPT:

Halfreda

I have been sleeping so much more than normal. I believe the dreams are sending me messages. I have such a strong feeling about this one – stronger than I have ever had before; I think she might be the one.

I know what people think when they look at me, half of them revere me and half of them fear me.

I admit I exaggerate my persona but never ever my powers. My powers are real. I know things and I see things. I see things that haven’t happened yet but will happen. I know a person’s heart – I can see greatness and badness, trust or ill will. I know if someone is cursed before they tell me. I know if a woman is with child before she does. I know the private thoughts of people. Some people. Not everyone – some people are good at hiding their true self, blocking off the signals I pick up, but for the most part I can.

My persona is something else. I do have a little fun with the chanting – not all of which is strictly necessary. I enjoy staring at someone and then letting my eyes roll back in my head as if I have been overcome with some secret thing to do with them – that trick gets everyone in a fluster.

But I’m a good woman and a useful one. I do help the King. I use my powers to advise him. I use my knowledge to guide him and I have never shown him wrong. The Realm is peaceful and prosperous and I know that I have helped with that.

But my real purpose, the reason my teacher placed me here at the castle, has eluded me thus far. Through no fault of my own, I must add.

So, the blessing is over and here I am making up a future fire to see what I can see.

I’ve gathered the wood and started the fire, the flames licking upwards and warming my room. I’ve put all the necessary ingredients in to my bowl over the fire. The liquid is swirling. I’m trying to see if my hunch is correct. If I’m right about Everleigh.

Ah, I’m fed up of this puzzle. The fire will not show me anything, but does that mean I am wrong or that the future is too uncertain?

Where is my knowledge now?

Every time a Kingmaker comes to this final countdown in their life I intervene. Everleigh is the seventh Kingmaker I have known. That may give you an idea of my age I know, and yes, I am older than anyone I have ever met.

The teacher told me I will live until my life’s purpose is completed and my life’s purpose is to find the Kingmaker who is not the Kingmaker.

Does that even make sense?

When I met my teacher, I was only a teenager. I was rebelling against my power and trying to drown out my knowledge and gift with drink. Alcohol dulled the power and the voices inside me.

My teacher helped me, guided me and allowed me to live with my power, enjoying the help it gave me and embracing it fully. He also told me that I had been chosen for a special and important purpose.

He asked me if I had heard of the Kingmaker. Of course, I had – everyone had. The Kingmaker was a sacred tradition used to choose the new King of the Realm.

The teacher had been privy to a prophecy found years ago, which told of the one Kingmaker who would not die, she instead would rule as the Queen and the greatest ruler that the Realm had ever known.

I was to learn my craft and then go to the castle and work as a wise woman to assist the King. But every time the Kingmaker feast came around, I was to secretly meet the Kingmaker and test if she was the future Queen.

I have a feeling with this one that I’ve never had before. I’m more excited than I’ve been previously to test her. I’m nervous too. The one thing the teacher never told me was what happened next. If I found the Kingmaker who should be Queen, how did I convince anyone else?

My fire has let me down. I leave it to die and decide to finish for the night. After all, if she does as I’ve asked, I will meet Everleigh at the river at sunrise, which isn’t that far away.

I lay in my bed, watching the embers of the fire flicker away, and as I do I see a crown forming in the smoke. Is it a trick of my imagination or is it a sign?

I drift off to sleep pondering.

 

Author Bio:

 

Gemma Perfect loves to write. She’s been doing it since she was nine. After a few false starts – self publishing children’s books, and being traditionally published with her romance novella, she has finally found her feet writing young adult historical fantasy books. She is currently writing The Cursed Princess, set five years after The Kingmaker Trilogy finishes, following the adventures of Everleigh’s sister, Addyson.

 

Gemma lives in Wales with her husband Craig and their three boys, Sam, Corey and Oliver. She is happiest when writing, day dreaming and eating smelly blue cheese.

 

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter

 

GIVEAWAY!

Enter to win a $25 Amazon gift card, an eBook copy of the trilogy, and a link for 10 e-copies of book one for the winner’s friends

a Rafflecopter giveaway

XBTBanner1

A Year of Light and Shadows by @HelenaFairfax #Romance #RomanticSuspense #books


helena-fairfax_ayearoflightandshadows-cover

 

Title    A Year of Light and Shadows

Author  Helena Fairfax

Genre  Romantic Suspense

 

Book Blurb

Three romantic mysteries in one romance boxed set

 

Book One: Palace of Deception
From the heat of the Mediterranean….
When the Princess of Montverrier goes missing, Lizzie Smith takes on the acting job of her life. Alone and surrounded by intrigue in the Royal Palace, she relies on her quiet bodyguard, Léon. But who is he really protecting? Lizzie…or the Princess?

 

Book Two: The Scottish Diamond
To the heart of Scotland…
Home in Scotland, Lizzie begins rehearsals for Macbeth and finds danger stalking her through the streets of Edinburgh. She turns to her former bodyguard, Léon, for help…and discovers a secret he’d do anything not to reveal.

 

Epilogue: A Question by Torchlight (A Short Story)
A story of mystery and romance…
The approach of Hogmanay in Edinburgh means a new year and new resolutions. Lizzie and Léon have put their year of danger behind them. But something is still troubling Léon, and Lizzie fears the worst…

 

 

Giveaway

All new subscribers to Helena’s newsletter receive a FREE copy of Palace of Deception – Book One in the Year of Light and Shadows anthology. You can subscribe here: http://eepurl.com/bRQtsT

 

 

Excerpt

Léon and I made our way out of the apartment building, down the stone steps and out into the streets of the Grassmarket, where hundreds of people were already thronging the pavements on their way to join the procession. The chilly air on my lungs was a shock after the warmth of our kitchen. I glanced up at the icy sky, my breath coming out in white clouds. The cold began to nip at my fingers, and I was glad of Léon’s gloved hand wrapped around mine, and his warmth at my side.

 

We joined the slow-moving crowds and made our way with them down the Grassmarket, along Cowgate and up the steps to join the procession on George IV Bridge. Every year I never failed to draw in a breath at the magnificent sight of hundreds and hundreds of people lined up on the bridge beneath a sea of flaming torches, their flames burning as far as the eye could see. It’s a majestic scene. I glanced up at Léon as we reached the top of the steps, wanting to share with him my excitement, but he was gazing ahead, lost in thought. What was visible of his face was pale under the flickering light. I realised he’d barely spoken a word since we left the apartment. That nervous tension again. Whatever was wrong?

 

I opened my mouth to ask him, but by then we were passing the stewards in their fluorescent jackets.

 

‘Here y’are, son.’ One of the stewards handed Léon a burning torch. A few months previously Léon would have struggled to understand the quick Scots accent, but now he nodded, giving the steward a word of thanks and a smile. He passed the torch to me in silence and took one for himself. The crowds lining the bridge chatted and called out to one another good-naturedly, and all around the bright flames of their torches flickered yellow and orange, sending streams of black smoke heavenwards. I pulled up my fur-lined hood and stamped my feet once or twice as we waited for the procession to set off. Beside me Léon stood perfectly still, but I still couldn’t shake off the feeling he was suppressing some nervous emotion. He was staring straight ahead, seemingly unaware of the people around him. The flame in the torch he was carrying trembled. I was about to tug on his sleeve – to ask him what was troubling him – but then the crowds broke out into a ragged roar, and the massed Highland pipes and drums began to play “Scotland the Brave”, and in all the rush of noise there was no chance of being heard. The procession, thousands strong, began to move as one in the wake of the pipers, the light from their burning torches streaming up in the freezing night air.

 

I grasped my own torch and held it aloft, and as Léon fell into step beside me his own flame quivered and dipped.

 

Buy Links

Amazon universal link: http://mybook.to/lightandshadows

B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/a-year-of-light-and-shadows-helena-fairfax/1124986369

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/gb/en/ebook/a-year-of-light-and-shadows

Indigo: https://www.chapters.indigo.ca/en-ca/books/a-year-of-light-and/9780993361579-item.html

 

Helena Fairfax photo

 

Author Biography

Helena Fairfax writes engaging contemporary romances with sympathetic heroines and heroes she’s secretly in love with. Her novels have been shortlisted for several awards, including the Exeter Novel Prize, the Global Ebook Awards, the I Heart Indie Awards, and the UK’s Romantic Novelists’ Association New Writers’ Scheme Award.
Helena is a British author who was born in Uganda and came to England as a child. She’s grown used to the cold now, and these days she lives in an old Victorian mill town in the north of England, right next door to the windswept Yorkshire moors. She walks this romantic landscape every day with her rescue dog, finding it the perfect place to dream up her heroes and her happy endings.

 

Social Media Links

Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/bRQtsT

Website: www.helenafairfax.com

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

Twitter https://twitter.com/HelenaFairfax