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


Love and Crime Stories - Half size

 

Title: Love and Crime: Stories

Author: V.S. Kemanis

Genre: Short Stories/Psychological Suspense/Literary Fiction

Publisher: Opus Nine Books

 

Book Blurb:

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

 

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

 

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

 

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published in Ellery Queen’s Mystery Magazine, The William & Mary Review, Lynx Eye, and Iconoclast, and previously unpublished stories.

 

Excerpt:  

ROSEMARY AND REUBEN

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

“And you’ve earned your reward.”

 

“I look forward to it.”

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

 

*     *     *

 

Buy Links:

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

V.S. Kemanis - 1

 

Author Biography:

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

 

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

 

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

 

Social Media Links:

Website:  http://www.vskemanis.com

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

Twitter: https://twitter.com/VSKemanis

 

 

Missing: The Lady Said No (A Chandler County Novel) by @JacqBiggar #cozymystery #bookreview


Missing The Lady Said No eBook

 

Title: Missing: The Lady Said No (A Chandler County Novel)

Author: Jacquie Biggar

Genre: Cozy Mystery

 

Book Blurb:

The Race is on to find a Killer in the heart of Kentucky horse country.

 

Detective Augustus Grant is faced with his most baffling case to date. Well-respected race horse breeder, John Jorgenson, is murdered in his den days before the Kentucky Derby and the list of suspects is growing.

 

Complicating matters, Gus’ ex-girlfriend is the last person to have seen the victim alive.

Rebecca Hayes owes the Jorgenson family her loyalty. They gave her a new life after a disastrous affair leaves her alone and pregnant.

 

With all the evidence pointing in Becky’s direction, will Gus do his duty?

 

Or follow his heart?

 

This is part of a multi-author branded series titled Chandler County.

 

My Review:

A few days before the Kentucky Derby, esteemed breeder John Jorgenson is found murdered in his den. Detective Gus Grant is on the case and just when the list of suspects can’t get any bigger, ex-girlfriend Becky walks back into his life and is the last person to see the victim alive.

 

Becky’s known heartbreak and his name is Gus Grant. She’s built a nice life for herself and her young daughter since he abandoned her a few years ago. There’s no room for love, least of all from the one man who stole her heart. She puts on a brave face but her resolve crumbles when Gus discovers the truth. Is there any hope of them being a family or will Gus discover what really happened in Mr. Jorgenson’s den?

 

I love the Kentucky Derby and Biggar brings it to life in this delightful mystery. Gus reminds me of Columbo, from his crinkled attire to the way he fumbles around the crime scene. A mind of steel hidden behind a bumbling exterior, that’s the perfect description of Detective Gus. His past relationship with Becky collides with his duty as a detective and he must decide what really matters.

 

Missing: The Lady Said No is an addictive mystery filled with cagy characters with the backdrop of the greatest horse race known to man. There’s a lot to uncover yet Biggar only reveals what she wants the reader to know at the time. Gripping sub-plots will keep you turning the pages, all leading up to an explosive climax. I read it in one sitting … yes, it was that good. Can’t wait to read all the books in the Chandler County series!

 

My Rating: 5+ stars

 

Bonus Excerpt:

Gus followed the stiff-necked manservant to the door of the den, though his emotions were tugging him back to Rebecca like a starved man to a banquet.

 

He couldn’t believe how beautiful she’d become. She’d always been pretty, but now there was an added maturity to her features that suited her face. The tomboy figure he fondly remembered had become hills and valleys he ached to explore. They’d been best friends, then lovers, then enemies. It’d been his fault, that was the worst of it. He’d let his drive for a career ruin the only good thing in his life. He could tell himself he’d done his part. After getting his degree and returning to Bourbonville he had tried to find her. But she was right, he hadn’t tried hard enough.

 

Their relationship had already been floundering; it had seemed easier to let it die a natural death. He regretted that now. One glimpse of her had brought back all the old feelings. Memories of happier times.

 

Ernest reached for the door knob and was stopped by the officer on guard.

 

“Sorry, only trained personnel are allowed.”

 

Ernest glared at him. “I’ve worked in this household for years; I believe I am trained.”

 

The sergeant exchanged a helpless glance with Gus. “I’m sorry, sir. Those are the rules.”

 

Gus stepped between the two men before a full-scale war broke out. “It’s okay, sergeant.” He flipped open his badge. “I’m Detective Grant. The…” He waved a hand toward the butler.

 

Ernest lowered his brows. “Manservant.”

 

Gus nodded. “Manservant, was just showing me the way to the crime scene.”

 

The officer checked his badge, then reached back to open the door. The stench of death was immediate, a toxic mix of human waste impossible to forget. Gus turned his head to draw one last clean breath and met Rebecca’s anxious gaze.

 

That look gave him pause.

 

Why was she worried? Just how well did Rebecca know the owner of Balmoral?

 

“Coming, Detective?” The sergeant’s voice interrupted his musings. Gus shrugged off his misgivings and followed the man into the room, sliding past the grim-faced Ernest.

 

Nancy knelt by the victim, her hands covered with white gloves and booties on her feet. She glanced up when he walked in and pointed at his shoes. Gus dug through his coat pockets until he found his booties, put them on, nodded to the sergeant, and made his way over to her side.

 

“It’s a bad one,” she said, turning attention to her preliminary findings. “Single shot to the temple, through and through. Near as I can tell, time of death was sometime between midnight and three a.m., no sign of defensive wounds.” She stopped and gazed at him with world-weary eyes. “Who would do this, Augustus?”

 

Gus observed the brain matter splattered on the leather tufted chair and rich, red Aubusson carpet and his stomach churned. His first thought was crime of passion. There had been some effort made to set the scene up as a suicide. The gun rested in the victim’s open hand, finger wrapped around the trigger. A cut crystal tumbler lay on its side nearby, a stain wetting the carpet. Gus touched the wet spot and sniffed, rubbing the tips of his fingers—bourbon. The good kind. Not something a man bent on ending his own life would let go to waste.

 

“I’m not sure, Nancy, but I do know the brass will be all over this one, so take your time, okay? We don’t want to miss anything.”

 

She huffed out an indignant breath. “You telling me how to do my job, now?”

 

He held up a hand to halt her blistering tongue. “The Jorgensons are big news, that’s all I’m saying. Don’t they have a horse in the Derby this year?”

 

The sergeant, who had remained by the door, and watched their exchange with interest, piped up. “Forever Humble. Lots of money riding on that colt.” His face became animated. “You ever see him race, Detective? He’s some kind of fast. Likes to run the outside track. Gives me a heart attack every time.”

 

Gus smiled. “You a betting man…?”

 

“Fish, sir. Everyone calls me Fish.”

 

Nancy chuckled and the young man’s neck turned brick red.

 

“I’m not a gambler, no sir, but I admit I like to spend a Saturday now and then down at the track. It’s some exciting. You ever been, Mr. Grant?”

 

Gus shook his head. “No, can’t say as I have. Not that fond of horses, though I guess that’s the wrong thing to say in this house.” He admired the landscape watercolor on the wall, rolling hills with a herd of wild horses barreling straight at him, eyes crazy and manes flying as though they were about to burst the confines of paint and canvas.

 

“Augustus, there’s something you need to see.” Nancy’s voice was muffled as she stretched, shapely butt in the air, to reach something under the leather chair. She grunted and tugged until a bronze sculpture came into view. When she stood it on the carpet, he saw it was about twelve inches in height, a warrior on a horse, raised arm carrying a spear.

 

“There’s blood and hair fragments,” she said, turning it carefully to inspect the evidence. “I can’t be sure until I get it to the lab, but this looks like a match to our vic.”

 

Well, that explained why there were no defensive wounds. The poor sop probably didn’t know what hit him. Gus looked around until he found the suspiciously empty spot on the desk. He gave a wide berth to the corpse, conscious of Nancy’s critical gaze. The desk was one of those massive claw-foot affairs, mahogany maybe, rich and elegant instead of simply functional. He pulled a linen handkerchief out of his pocket and checked the drawers. An assortment of papers greeted him, some on household expenses, most on Jorgenson’s passion—thoroughbreds. Nothing that looked like a cause for murder.

 

Gus was about to replace the documents when a slip of yellowed paper lodged in the back of the drawer caught his eye. He reached in, using the hankie, and retrieved the handwritten note.

 

Do what I told you to do, or the truth will destroy you

 

The threat inherent on the scrap of paper chilled his blood. There was trouble brewing in the Jorgenson household, and Gus was afraid Rebecca was somehow involved.

 

Buy Links:

http://books2read.com/u/3Lrqre

https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/34033805-missing

 

Jacquie Biggar

 

Author Biography:

JACQUIE BIGGAR  is a USA Today bestselling author of Romantic Suspense who loves to write about tough, alpha males who know what they want, that is until they’re gob-smacked by heroines who are strong, contemporary women willing to show them what they really need is love. She is the author of the popular Wounded Hearts series and has just started a new series in paranormal suspense, Mended Souls.

 

She has been blessed with a long, happy marriage and enjoys writing romance novels that end with happily-ever-afters.

 

Jacquie lives in paradise along the west coast of Canada with her family and loves reading, writing, and flower gardening. She swears she can’t function without coffee, preferably at the beach with her sweetheart. 🙂

 

Free reads, excerpts, author news, and contests can be found on her web site:

http://jacqbiggar.com

 

You can follow her on at http://Facebook.com/jacqbiggar , http://Twitter.com/jacqbiggar

 

Or email her via her web site. Jacquie lives on Vancouver Island with her husband and loves to hear from readers all over the world!

 

You can also join her street team on Facebook: Biggar’s Book Buddies

 

Or her exclusive Review Crew: https://jacqbiggar.com/join-my-review-crew/

 

And sign up for her newsletter-

https://app.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/h6c2n8

 

 

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


WetWork Ep3 WEB 06152015

 

Title: WetWork, Dark Man Case Files, Episode 3

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

Author: Cadence Denton

Genre: Contemporary Romance Suspense/Thriller

 

Book Blurb:

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

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

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

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

He needs a miracle. He needs his Angel.

 

Exclusive Extended 18+ Excerpt:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ahren?”

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

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

“Oww… whaddidya do that for?”

“C’mon you old coot. We’re leaving.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

She shrugged. What the hell did she care?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Chernyy is here

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

Come outside. We r w8ting

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

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

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

“Funny, Damien said the same about you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Come on, Ahren

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

“Ahren! Catch!”

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

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

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

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

“Move, Ahren!” Natalya shouted.

 

Buy Links:

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

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

 

cadence-denton

 

Author Biography:

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

 

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

 

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

 

Social Media Links:

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

Email: cadencedentonauthor@gmail.com

Website: http://www.cadencedenton.com

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

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

Instagram: https://instagram.com/cadence.denton/

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

 

 

Don’t Look at Me by @JPGrider1 is a Modern-Day #BATB — Only Twisted! #romance


Don’t Look at Me
J.P. Grider
Publication date: May 2017
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

 

Haven:

A diligent hand carved this hole in my face.

It stole my confidence, my identity, and ended my short-lived career as a broadcast journalist.

I am now unemployed. Alone. Ugly.

And expected to get over it and move on.

Go on living life as usual—as if the world doesn’t judge the grotesquely unattractive.

 

Quest:

It’s been three years since I was kicked out of the Army for nearly killing the opposition’s militia commander with my bare hands.

I am now unemployed. Alone. Angry.

And expected to forget the nightmares that hold me hostage and move on.

Go on living life as usual—as if the world doesn’t judge a dishonorably discharged ex-soldier.

 

Don’t Look at Me is a modern-day Beauty and the Beast tale—reversed and twisted. Because even the ugly need a good story, and even the beautiful are ugly deep down.

 

Add to Goodreads

 

Author Bio:

 

J.P. Grider is a New Adult and Young Adult author. She is the author of seven novels. Her young adult series The Honor Trilogy consists of A Touch of Honor, A Man of Honor, and A Heart of Honor, while her first two novels – Unplugged (A Portrait of a Rock Star) and Maybe This Life – are standalone adult contemporary novels. Her most recent release is the new adult romance Mending Michael, which is the second in her Hunter Hill University series. The next book in the series – Reaching Rose – will be released in May, 2015. All the books in the Hunter Hill University series are standalone books and can be read in any order.

 

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter

 

XBTBanner1

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


UnholyAlliancebyKathleenRowland200

 

Title: Unholy Alliance

Author: Kathleen Rowland

Genre: Romantic Suspense

Publisher: Tirgearr Publishing

 

Book Blurb:

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

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

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

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

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

 

Excerpt:

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

“Okay, okay. We want it.”

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

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

 

 

Buy Links:

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

 

Kathy_July

 

Author Biography:

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

 

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

 

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

 

Social Media Links:

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

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

Twitter https://twitter.com/rowlandkathleen

Website https://kathleenrowland.wordpress.com/

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

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

 

Sebastian’s Castle by Lisa DeVore @mrsldevore Blends #Romance and #Fantasy! #EntertoWin #TWRP


SebastiansCastle_w11117_med

 

Title: Sebastian’s Castle

 

Author: Lisa DeVore

 

Genre: Romance/Fantasy

 

Publisher: The Wild Rose Press

 

 

Book Blurb:

Being married to a cop is hard, being the widow of one is harder. After Brynn Austin’s husband, Nate, was murdered in an undercover operation, there wasn’t enough evidence to convict the gang leader who killed him. Brynn refuses to let him kill their dream to renovate an old Connecticut castle. But her plan is hampered by a ghost who’s not ready to give up his home. Contractor Jaxson Maddox signs on to renovate the old castle that’s sat empty for years. He didn’t believe the rumors about the place being haunted. But that was before he met the resident ghost. What Jax didn’t sign on for was trouble in the form of falling for the beautiful widow, dealing with a pesky ghost, and risking his life when a threat from Brynn’s past surfaces. He’ll do whatever it takes to protect her, even if it means becoming a ghost himself.

 

Excerpt:

Light shone in through the windows,

but the space wasn’t any less creepy. Old cobwebs hung

from the rafters, and dust particles danced in the

sunlight. She hoped there wasn’t a family of raccoons,

or worse, living here. Brynn pushed those thoughts

from her mind and kneeled in front of the trunk with the

screwdriver. She’d never tried to pick a lock before, but

there was a first time for everything.

 

“If you’re set on nosing around, I would rather you

used the key. It’s under that pile of books.”

 

Brynn jumped to her feet and swung around to face

the voice. She gripped tightly to her only weapon, the

screwdriver.

 

There he stood, the same man she saw the other

day. “Who are you?” She backed toward the wall,

holding the screwdriver in front of her. “You’re

trespassing.”

 

“No, my dear, you’re trespassing. This is my

castle. I should be asking you the questions.”

 

Brynn’s eyes bugged out as she really took a look

at him. His image was fading in and out. “No,” she said

aloud, “it can’t be.”

 

“My dear, you don’t look well.”

 

“You’re a…” She patted her face.

 

“A what? I’m a what?” His face faded and

returned.

 

“You’re a ghost!”

 

 

Contest:

Who feels like a #CONTEST?? I’m giving away one digital copy of Sebastian’s Castle and a $10 gift card to #Amazon!! All you have to do is like this post on Facebook:

 

https://www.facebook.com/lisadevoreAuthor/photos/a.417788101701179.1073741828.415332531946736/1117102265103089/?type=3

 

Contest ends Saturday, March 18th! Good luck! And don’t forget to share on Facebook!

 

 

Buy Links:

Amazon https://www.amazon.com/Sebastians-Castle-Lisa-DeVore-ebook/dp/B01MY89BWC/ref=sr_1_4_twi_kin_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1489508587&sr=8-4&keywords=lisa+devore

 

SONY DSC

 

Author Biography:

Lisa DeVore is a romantic suspense author for The Wild Rose Press. Her active imagination started at an early age in her NE Ohio hometown, complete with its own castle. She’s an avid reader, loves the beach, dolphins, and sunshine! Yes, she’s a misplaced Floridian. Lisa stays busy utilizing her accounting degree, spending time with her husband of 20-plus years, their two sons and daughter, 2 toy fox terriers, and one mini-pin. And she enjoys spending time in the worlds she creates. Lisa made the Amazon best-seller list for her debut novel “Beautiful Music”, and is pleased to announce the worldwide release of her fourth book, “Sebastian’s Castle”.

 

Social Media Links:

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

Twitter https://twitter.com/mrsldevore

 

Meet @CharJGordon and Discover What’s Behind That Smile! #romance #suspense #books


Charmaine Headshot for Author Central

 

It’s our great pleasure to welcome to the POTL Blog, Charmaine Gordon. She’s a prolific author with more than 85 books to her credit. We asked her to sit down for a candid interview and to share her latest release, Chef’s Surprise. She agreed and without further ado, here she is. Give her a warm welcome. Take it away, Charmaine:

 

What do you consider to be your best accomplishment?

 

The day I spread my wings to drive into New York City in my quest to be a professional actor is a major highlight. The fact I succeeded against all odds is remarkable since I was already in my fifties, my credits filled with community theater plays. And so this mother of many, devoted wife and homemaker, became a butterfly. I was cast in daytime dramas for twelve years, all the while getting bit parts in movies and commercials and then this sweet time collapsed during the run in an Off-Broadway play. My good stage voice felt wrong. A voice doctor examined me. He said I have spasmodic dysphonia. My acting career ended right then. Creative juices flowed and I wrote my first book. A publisher agreed to work with me. Suddenly I became a writer.

 

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

 

Although I write Romance/Suspense with humor and often therapy dogs fit into the story, I read murder and mayhem. My favorite is John Sandford with his humor mixed into crime and best of all is James Lee Burke with his turn of phrase, charm, and depth in every book.

 

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

 

Names stream by as if they’re on ticker tape. This may be due to my acting career. I don’t worry; it just happens.

 

Where do you see yourself in 5 years?

 

You ask about looking five years ahead. Good question. I just celebrated my 86th birthday. In five years, I expect to celebrate many more, ever the optimist.

 

Do you have a favorite spot to write? What is it?

I have a cozy room with a wrap-around desk. When my granddaughter was born, daughter, a teacher, expected me to care for her during those hours. I’m just a woman who never says no. My office became filled with baby equipment. I wrote while she napped; rocked her baby seat with my foot to calm her when I had to finish the hot scene in progress. What a special time. I laugh to recall the fun I had with that little girl grown to be nine years old. Now she’s the one to hold my hand and say be careful. We have four cats; one sleeps next to my hand while I type. The big guy sleeps at the door guarding so I step over him with care. The other two sleep until the dinner bell rings. A circus.

 

What is your best marketing tip?

 

Marketing is a mystery to me. A presence on Facebook takes valuable time away from writing and yet it’s part of the marketing process. Twitter is faster. All I can say is just do it. You write and promote.

 

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

 

I’ve written a bunch of novels and short stories, many about Mature Romance because ‘it isn’t over ‘til it’s over’. That’s how I feel. Some of the short stories are wrapped in a Volume of three in one. Humor and love prevail in every story. Survive and Thrive runs through every story.

 

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

 

I’m writing a story, another one that came to me in the night. Blue eyes look into blue eyes and then. My youngest son lives in Denmark. He is my confidante and writer superb. He cautioned to find the major flaw. Wow! I lit up inside; my heroine lit up because I gave her the path to follow. Almost thirty thousand words, possibly the end is in sight.

 

Do you drink? Smoke? What’s your vice?

 

You ask if I drink/smoke—what’s my vice? If still being very romantic is a vice, I’ll vote for that. I don’t smoke, half a glass of Chardonnay makes me climb on a chair and tap dance.

 

What do you want your tombstone to say?

 

Cremation for me but the eulogy will include, What a woman, best Mom ever!

 

If you had a superpower, what would it be?

 

If I had a superpower, first I’d heal the damage done to me when I fell last April. Doctors said I’d never walk again yet I can. Yes, I can. Then I’d spread my power to heal ailments wherever I knew about folks who suffered. There are many charities I’d contact to discover who needs the most help.

 

Do you have any scars? What are they from?

 

Surgical scars are not worth mentioning and here I am almost writing it down. In New York-ese I say fugetabodit!

 

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

 

As the first girl born into a large male family, all my parents expected this cute little girl was to be good, also find a nice husband and be a wonderful mother. As for me, I wanted to dance and sing. No way as far as the family rules stated. I waited my time, married my first love, my pilot and we lived a different life. Slowly I grew as a real woman, not the secluded Chicago girl.  What a change until, as I mentioned before, I spread my wings.

 

 

Thank you for this truly interesting interview.

 

cvr-chefs-surprise-ereader

 

Title Chef’s Surprise

Author Charmaine Gordon

Genre Romance/Suspense

Publisher Vanilla Heart Publishing

 

Book Blurb

One night, she ran. For the bus to freedom and a new life. She had a plan, and a small box of cash.

 

With grit and determination, the young girl learned more than lessons at nursing college, the first part of her plan.

 

Someday, she would become a top chef, but for now, she’d claw her way up the ladder.

 

There is payback for every crime, and sometimes the payback is more than satisfactory.

 

Excerpt

Six years after Reva Mercer graduated from a Nursing College in Southern Florida, her job as head chef in a fancy penthouse apartment came true. She laughed to herself with past thoughts racing through her mind. Clayton, the youngest son in the Randall household had fallen for her yet she only had eyes for the older son, a widower, president of the law firm and handsome as all get-out. Tonight the occasion was Clayton’s partnership party. The elder Grandmother found Reva with fine credentials and hired her on the spot. She’d never forget that afternoon.

 

The head chef at Raos needed a break, so he said. The boss called Reva over. She’d been baking all morning, fascinated with the fluted rim on the special pies. She hid her annoyance and blinked her flirty eyes to give him false hope.

 

“Take care of those two old ladies and do it now.” She put on her best smile and hurried to take their order. The minute her green eyes connected with the oldest woman, she cared for her, felt the kindness and quality in her.

 

After the party, when the penthouse quieted down, Reva had an intuition; something was wrong with dear Grans.  She hurried down the quiet hall to find her room, heard moans and pushed the heavy door open. Grans lay on the floor whimpering. Reva lifted her on to the big bed. She knew right away. Grans had a Transcient Ischemic Attack. She yelled for the older son to hurry. “Get your doctor friend, call for an ambulance, we need 911 now. We must save Grans.”

 

Buy Links

Nook

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/chefs-surprise-charmaine-gordon/1125529990?

 

Kobo

https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/chef-s-surprise

 

Kindle

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01N37DGLU

 

Author Biography

My first job as an actor: I was booked as the legs of Geraldine Ferarro, the first woman to be nominated as vice president to run with Michael DuKacus Governor of Boston. Five o’clock in the a.m., Secret Service men everywhere and me. This job gave me entree to the three Unions. After that, day time dramas, and my first movie, Working Girl where I sang Happy Birthday to Melanie Griffith and shared a hot dog with Harrison Ford. So much fun until my voice failed and now I write every day and love it. Life is a jewel to cherish every day and enjoy. Don’t frown, people. Put a smile on your face and share it.

 

Social Media Links

Website http://authorcharmainegordon.wordpress.com/

Twitter https://twitter.com/CharJGordon

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/charmaine.gordon

Scarred by @MiaKerick #RomanticSuspense #LGTBQ #FridayReads


Scarred
Mia Kerick
Publication date: March 1st 2017
Genres: LGBTQ+, New Adult, Romance, Suspense

From bestselling author Mia Kerick comes a New Adult novel of Gay Romantic Suspense that will keep you up reading all night!

 

Matthew North waited ten years to heal from the devastating wounds inflicted by the man who abducted and abused him as a child. Living reclusively on a tropical island—with no company but his four cats—he merely avoids the lingering pain.

 

Wearing twisted ropes of mutilated skin on his back, Matt struggles with a profound hindrance—the scars that deaden his soul. However, on the night he meets lively Vedie Wilson, a local restaurant busboy who expresses his gender by wearing lipgloss and eyeliner along with his three-day beard, things change.

 

Gradually, Vedie and Mateo unite in friendship. Through a series of awkward encounters, the pair learns each other’s secrets. Vedie learns that an angelic face can front for a scarred soul. Matthew learns that the line between one’s masculine and feminine sides is blurred. Can they embrace the painful stories behind each other’s scars if they’re to find everlasting love? Or will surrendered love come to be yet another blemish on their souls?

 

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

Vedie

“Lookin’ good, pretty Miss Vedie.…mmmhmm….” No matter if I’m dressed like a dude or a lady, Joey always stares at me as if I’m a juicy bowl of strawberry shortcake—he licks his lips and I know he wants to take himself a nice big bite of a flavor he can’t get at home. Then he slaps a hand hard against my thigh, and creepy-slow, it climbs my leg. It’s headed for my ass cheek, or my name ain’t Vedie Wilson.

“Hands outta the cookie jar, Joey, my man.” I don’t appreciate it when any dude gropes me without asking for permission first. But the sad truth is I ain’t never gonna like Joey’s hands on me. While he gawks, I pull a shimmery hairband out of my bag and wrap it around my head to hold the damp dreads off my face. “Got yo’self a sweet tooth, looks like, Joey. You’d be wise to get your ass home to your sweet wife, not that you asked me for no words of wisdom.”

“Not gonna even think about going home ‘til I had me some fun,” Joey replies, jamming his hand in his pocket—probably to keep it from curving ‘round my ass.

When I bend down to rinse the sweat off my face he stays quiet and don’t goose me. Maybe this time he heard what I told him about gettin’ his butt home to Miz Joey. But more likely he’s checking out my butt.

“Baybeee… uh huh…. mmmhmm… nice ass you got there in them sweet little shorts….”

I sigh real loud, “I got some shit to do here, big dawg, so’s if that’s all you wanted…” The only way to get this guy to take a hike is to tell him point blank that he’s gotta head on out. “Catch ya on da flip side, ‘kay?”

He leans in so close I can feel his scratchy beard brushing on my neck and I shiver in the bad way. He takes a deep sniff—I guess he likes the smell of sweaty dude—and then finally bails. Right now, I sorely wish the tiki hut restaurant I work at had one of them one-person anything goes restrooms—for a dude, a lady, or whoever you feel like at the moment—but at least now I’m finally alone in the men’s room.

I pull out my makeup bag and quickly powder my nose so’s it don’t shine, and glide a deep shade of maroon over my lips, but I take the time to be an artist with my eyeliner and mascara ‘cause I figure eyes oughta say somethin’. When I look good enough that I’d wanna do me, I figure I’m looking good enough for public viewing. My new perfume smells like the freedom I got down here on Placida Island—coconuts and wildflowers and the ocean and honey— I spray it all over my neck and chest.

As I saunter outta the men’s room, I don’t miss that it’s kinda funny how I went in here looking all-dude but comin’ out, you could mistake me for a lady. Ha! More like a red-hot, sexy mama—smooth and silky everywhere ‘cept for the four-day beard.

 

Author Bio:

 

Mia Kerick is the mother of four exceptional children—all named after saints—and five nonpedigreed cats—all named after the next best thing to saints, Boston Red Sox players. Her husband of twenty years has been told by many that he has the patience of Job, but don’t ask Mia about that, as it is a sensitive subject.

 

Mia focuses her stories on the emotional growth of troubled young men and their relationships, and she believes that sex has a place in a love story, but not until it is firmly established as a love story. As a teen, Mia filled spiral-bound notebooks with romantic tales of tortured heroes (most of whom happened to strongly resemble lead vocalists of 1980s big-hair bands) and stuffed them under her mattress for safekeeping. She is thankful to Dreamspinner Press for providing her with an alternate place to stash her stories.

 

Mia is proud of her involvement with the Human Rights Campaign and cheers for each and every victory made in the name of marital equality. Her only major regret: never having taken typing or computer class in school, destining her to a life consumed with two-fingered pecking and constant prayer to the Gods of Technology.

 

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter

 

GIVEAWAY!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

XBTBanner1

Danger Lurks in Every shadow… Dangerous Victor by @ardentaislinn #romance #suspense


Dangerous Victor
Aislinn Kearns
(Soldiering On, #3)
Publication date: March 2nd 2017
Genres: Adult, Romance, Suspense

Radha Iyer knows there’s something terribly wrong happening at the casino she manages. Her staff are acting cagey, the finances don’t add up, and then her Head of Security is found murdered in his own home. She’s out of her depth and desperate for help.

 

Zack Walker has kept to himself since the day an IED left him permanently scarred. When Radha calls Soldiering On for help, his degree in math makes him the obvious choice to go undercover as the new Head of Security to help her discover what’s going on and who’s responsible.

 

But the conspiracy they uncover goes deeper than either of them could have imagined. When their investigation is compromised, it puts them both in mortal peril and on the run. With nowhere to turn they must rely on each other, but danger and betrayal lurk in every shadow…

 

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

A sickly smell reached Zack; at the same time a sense of foreboding settled over him. He hadn’t noticed it at first, presuming it was from the kitchen remains. But this was something else.

He swallowed, trying not to breathe as he made his way towards the room. It had to be the bedroom—the only room yet unexplored.

“Stay here,” he growled to Radha. The rustling behind him stopped.

He tugged the sleeve of his hoodie over his hand as he reached for the knob. Careful not to leave any prints, he opened the door.

The smell assaulted him immediately, making him gag. His eyes watered, and he blinked to clear them.

“What is it?” Radha asked.

He didn’t know how to answer. Louis—at least, he assumed it was Louis—lay on the thin carpet. Dried blood, black in the wan light, pooled beneath him. Flies buzzed and writhed around him. He no longer looked human—a specialist would need to tell them how long he’d been there, but Zack’s best guess was about a week—the length of time he’d been missing.

Louis hadn’t fled to Mexico with the casino’s money. He’d bled to death on his bedroom floor.

The puzzle pieces shifted and rearranged themselves in his mind, becoming more entwined and complex, leaving gaping holes of knowledge.

“What?” Radha’s voice was thinner now, anxiety dripping from the word. She shuffled closer, and Zack wrenched the door shut. He spun, blocking her with his body, forbidding her from entering that room. She didn’t need to see her friend like that.

“I’m sorry, Radha.” He kept his arms out, stretched across the hall in case she tried to dart around him. Instead, she stared up at him as tears pooled in her eyes.

“He’s not…” she couldn’t finish.

“I’m so sorry,” Zack repeated.

The tears slipped from her eyes and slid down her cheeks. She let out a gasping sob, and Zack gathered her into his arms and half-carried her out the front door. He breathed in deep gulps of the fresh night air as he held her close.

She cried quietly against his chest, and all Zack could do is offer murmured words of comfort as he stroked her back. When was the last time he’d comforted a woman? Held her close?

Too long.

“We need to call the police,” Zack told her softly as her tears subsided.

She nodded, eyes vague. “Yes.”

“They’ll need to ask us some questions,” he warned her.

“Of course.” The nod was slower this time.

“Radha, you’ll have to tell them about the strange finances at the casino.”

At this, her eyes snapped to his. “Why? We can’t tell them.”

“I think it’s best we do,” he coaxed softly.

“But it doesn’t have anything to do with…” Her eyes widened as it dawned on her. He had to say it aloud, anyway.

“He was murdered, Radha. And there’s every chance it was to do with the casino.”

 

Author Bio:

 

Aislinn is an Australian Expat living in Qatar. She completed a Bachelor of Arts in English and History, which she loved, and then went on to do a Masters in an unrelated field. She now largely pretends that last degree never happened.

 

She is the author of the ‘Soldiering On’ books, a Romantic Suspense series. She enjoys reading, writing, travelling, and fantasising about her future cottage in a forest. Now that she’s published, her next life dream is to own a dog.

 

This is where she would list her awards if she had any.

 

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter

 

GIVEAWAY!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

XBTBanner1

Judge by the Cover: High School, Drama & Deadly Vices by @abielleamiel #YA #books #FREE


 hsh-1-book-cover

 

Title: Judge by the Cover: High School, Drama & Deadly Vices (Hafu Sans Halo Book 1)

Author: Melissa Abigail

Genre: Coming-of-Age/YA Romance-Suspense

 

Book Blurb:

Campbelton looks like a city at peace; Yet, just below the surface Lie certain dangers— Crime, corruption, and a community divided. Haruna Mitsukai is an overachiever with dreams of attending the University of British Columbia. Ryu Debiru is a bad boy whose only desire is to escape this ridiculous prison called “life.” Both attend Shady Glenn Academy and despite their similar “hafu”, half Japanese identity, they couldn’t despise each other more. Years of avoidance comes to an end when a major assignment on Shakespeare’s Merchant of Venice pairs them together. Just as everything reaches a breaking point, revelations about an old East Side mansion called “Heaven” causes Haruna to question everything she thought she knew about him. As for Ryu? Well, all that glitters is most certainly not gold.

 

Excerpt:

Leaving everything but her messenger bag behind, Haruna slipped through the arching doorway. She didn’t have to go far to find the nearest exit. Ryu stood several metres beyond it. A haze of grey spilled upwards in tangled wisps from his nostrils. He paid no mind to her as he hovered at the curb of a walkway, shoulder eased against a brick wall. He returned the cigarette to his lips. Whether it was the solitude or the nicotine, he was thoroughly enjoying it. His thoughts, maybe they were miles away from the things they had said to each other just minutes ago. But what was it about him? Just before, he was upset. Now he was so detached, uncaring, unfeeling, and all of a sudden, not even appearing angry at all.

Haruna wondered how someone could let go of such strong emotions so quickly.

 

She wasn’t at all like that.

 

And though she had come to apologize, something about all of this, watching him like this made her cross. He wasn’t intimidating to her at all now. He was disgusting. Living in apathy? In so many ways he was throwing his life away.

 

“Do you really have to do that right now?” Haruna asked.

 

He didn’t turn to acknowledge her, but it was clear he had heard from the way his brows furrowed together. His mouth drew into something of a sneer.

 

“Actually, yeah. Helps me deal with stress.”

 

Once he’d spoken, he crooked his head towards her, deliberately blowing smoke through his mouth.

 

Haruna glowered at the cigarette in his left hand, every atomic particle in her body urging her to retreat, but some small part of her conscience telling her to be brave and resist in spite of herself. She obeyed her mind and approached. Once face-to-face, she could feel the smoke sting in her nose. She coughed.

 

“Oh, yeah?” she managed. “You have stress? What stress?”

 

He regarded her beadily, puffing in her direction.

 

“You.”

 

“Oh, I’m stress? Fine. If you want to do stupid things and kill yourself, go on ahead. Just know second-hand smoke is more dangerous than—” The smoke hit her hard. Haruna clutched the base of her neck and shut her eyes. She tried not to inhale, but her lungs were screaming for air. She stepped back and gasped. The hacking cough started again. She felt her chest throb.

She blinked, slowly, barely hearing Ryu’s voice.

 

“What’s up with you?”

 

Haruna glanced up. Ryu had moved closer, arms at his sides. He looked at her strangely. Again she glared at the cigarette pinched between his fingers, in her mind cursing the putrid cloud that enveloped them, brought him relief and suffocated her.

 

“N-Nothing, just—” she wheezed and backed away.

 

She’d been stupid. Stupid to follow him here.

 

 

Exclusive Deal/Giveaway:

Today only (2/22/17), get a FREE Kindle copy at Amazon:

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01MTPVI0U

 

 

Buy Links:

Goodreadshttps://www.goodreads.com/book/show/32886409-judge-by-the-cover

 

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01MTPVI0U?ref_=pe_2427780_160035660

 

Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/judge-by-the-cover-melissa-abigail/1125440437?ean=9780995300101

 

Chapters-Indigo: https://www.chapters.indigo.ca/en-ca/books/judge-by-the-cover-high/9780995300101-item.html?ikwid=judge+by+the+cover&ikwsec=Books&ikwidx=0

 

 

Author Biography:

Melissa Abigail was born in the southern U.S.A. to South American parents, lived in the borough of Brooklyn, N.Y., and was raised in the humble suburbs of southern Ontario. A citizen of the world, she’s managed to fit in nowhere in particular but everywhere at the same time. She is a lifelong writer, creator and artist that embraces thought-provoking ideas and diversity in film, fiction and life.

 

Social Media Links:

Website: www.hafusanshalo.com

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

Twitter: @abielleamiel

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15820401.Melissa_Abigail

Friday Book Round-Up Spotlights a #RomanticSuspense Author #books #FridayReads


Friday Book Round Up

 

Welcome to this week’s edition of Friday Book Round-Up. As many of you know, I’m a huge fan of romantic suspense. One of the Christmas gifts I received from MR N was a book by Paula Graves. I just finished reading it and while I was looking it up online, I found out Paula passed away recently. I was saddened because not only was she fairly young, she’s a talented writer. Today’s Friday Book Round-Up is spotlighting many of her books (along with my review for the book I read). If you’re a fan of romantic suspense, please read one (or many) of her books.

 

The Girl Who Cried Murder (Campbell Cove Academy)

A cold case is reopened, placing a witness in the crosshairs—and a bodyguard by her side…

 

Charlie Winters has caught security expert Mike Strong’s attention. A member of his self-defense class, she seems to need to know more than just how to protect herself. After a little digging, Mike discovers that the cute redhead has a reason to worry—she may have witnessed a murder. Using all of his connections, Mike tries to solve the cold case. But as Charlie’s memories from the past begin to resurface, her future seems marked for death. Offering up his skills as a bodyguard, Mike promises not to leave her side. And Charlie’s obvious relief at not having to fight alone convinces him there’s much more to this mystery he has yet to uncover.

 

My Review:

Ten years ago, Charlie’s best friend is killed in a hit and run accident. Memories are haunting Charlie and she starts asking questions. Someone is following Charlie and everything points to murder. Charlie signs up for a self-defense class just in case and piques the interest of ex-Marine Mike Strong. Mike offers to be her bodyguard and help her solve her friend’s murder after a few attempts are made on Charlie’s life.

 

Mike has never met anyone like Charlie and the more he’s around her, the more he craves her company. But someone is out to get her and Mike’s instincts kick in. Just when things are heating up between he and Charlie, the murderer gets reckless and goes after Mike. Will they survive this killer or is Charlie just The Girl Who Cried Murder?

 

I really loved this romantic suspense. Filled with twists and turns, Graves does a magnificent job weaving in romance with suspense. I loved that Charlie is independent and from the wrong side of the tracks. Charlie and Mike are a fantastic couple, feeding off each other’s strengths and nurturing each other’s weaknesses. A superb read and can’t wait to read more!

 

My Rating: 5+ stars

 

Fugitive Bride (Campbell Cove Academy)

THE BEST MAN…IN EVERY WAY

 

Watching his best friend marry the wrong man is Owen Stiles’s worst nightmare…until he and the would-be bride are kidnapped. Someone wants Tara Bentley out of the picture, enough to frame her for the murder of her fiancé. All that stands between Tara and destruction is Campbell Cove security agent Owen.

 

Moments away from calling off her wedding, Tara’s life is turned upside down. Now the man she’s always considered her best bud has transformed into some kind of sexy special agent. Owen is prepared to do anything to clear her name and secure her safety. But who’s keeping her heart safe from him?

 

Operation Nanny (Campbell Cove Academy)

WANTED: NANNY

 

MUST BE GOOD WITH WET WIPES AND GUNS.

 

Lacey Miles becomes the unexpected sole guardian of her young niece. Knee-deep into an investigation of a sleeper cell, Lacey finds that motherhood is a lot more perilous than she expected, so she hires a nanny with an impeccable résumé…who’s a far cry from Mary Poppins.

 

Beneath his friendly demeanor, Jim Mercer is a former Marine turned undercover agent, tasked with ferreting out the terrorists targeting Lacey and her loved ones. Jim may be the ultimate caretaker, but the closer Lacey comes to blowing her case open, the more Jim’s true identity is revealed. And the deeper he falls for this vulnerable little family.

 

Kentucky Confidential (Campbell Cove Academy)

The return of the wife he thought was lost and a baby he never knew existed will make this a Christmas to remember…

 

Captain Connor McGinnis has seen a ghost. Staring at a surveillance photo of a Kaziri immigrant, there can be no mistaking that the starkly beautiful—and visibly pregnant—woman in a head scarf is his wife, Risa. The woman he presumed was dead after her plane crashed into the ocean.

 

Risa McGinnis, relocated by the CIA when they learned of a price on her head, has settled into the guise of a widowed immigrant. Confronting Connor again resurrects sweet memories and a burning passion. But until this unknown enemy is captured, Risa must focus more on Connor’s protection than on their attraction. After all, the strength of her marriage—and the safety of her baby—depends on it…

 

Smoky Mountain Setup (The Gates: Most Wanted)

Coming in from the cold had never been so heated by an old attraction

 

On the run for two years, former FBI agent Cade Landry has only one person he can turn to: Olivia Sharp, his former partner—and lover. But after all this time, trusting the beauty is sure to put both their lives on the line. Taking that risk, Cade braves a raging storm to seek her help. The moment they’re reunited, and with no time to explore their reignited passion or the case that tore them apart, they must focus on bringing a band of domestic terrorists to justice. Hurtling them through snow-choked mountains into harrowing danger, Cade feels the pressure of what’s at stake: his future, Olivia’s life…and a love that never died.

 

Boneyard Ridge (The Gates Book 3)

Completing his latest assignment could impact investigator Hunter Bragg’s future. But only if he can keep Susannah Marsh alive.

 

All Hunter Bragg wanted in Purgatory, Tennessee, was a little peace of mind. A private investigator plagued by his own guilt, he never imagined his next job would resurrect old demons. Targeted by an anarchistic militia group, events planner Susannah Marsh is his next mission: keep her close…keep her alive. But Susannah has a secret. A secret that will reveal the true motive of her potential assailants. For Hunter, being Susannah’s protector soon becomes more than just a job. And in order to succeed, there can be no half measures. With undeniable attraction simmering between them, he’s determined not to let the promise of a better future fall into the hands of ruthless predators.

 

Author Bio:

As a child, award-winning novelist Paula Graves loved reading Hardy Boys and Nancy Drew mysteries. As a teenager, she discovered the satisfaction of happily ever after from Harlequin Romances. When she realized there were books that featured both romance and mystery, she knew she’d found her calling. Now Paula writes romantic suspense novels and novellas, where she gets to play both matchmaker and murderer and has a blast doing it.

Paula writes gritty, emotional mystery-thrillers with strong romantic elements. Born in the American South, she draws from her experiences with the culture and geography of the region, especially the Appalachian Mountains, to add authentic flavor and unique characters to her tales of romance and mystery.

She loves to hear from her readers, who can reach her by clicking the contact button on her website, www.paulagraves.com .

 

Have a Paula Graves book to recommend? Share in the comments below. Happy Reading!

 

MRS N, Book Addict

 

Whirlwind Romance by @msspencerauthor #TWRP #romanticsuspense #Romance


perf5.000x8.000.indd

 

Title: Whirlwind Romance

Author: M. S. Spencer

Genre: Romantic Suspense/Action Adventure

Publisher: The Wild Rose Press

 

Blurb:
In the aftermath of a hurricane, jelly maker Lacey Delahaye finds herself marooned on an island on the Gulf coast of Florida with a mysterious man. They are immediately drawn to each other, but before Armand can confess his identity, they are kidnapped and taken to a tiny island in the western Caribbean. There, Lacey finds herself faced with pirates, fanatical ideologues, and palace intrigue, not to mention the advances of three men, only one of whom she loves.

 

Excerpt: Slipping Briskly

The full moon shone through the window, illuminating Lacey’s nodding head. Armand touched her cheek. “I think it’s your bedtime.”

 

Stung, she shot back, “I’m taking care of you, remember?”

 

He held up a hand. “Sorry! I’d forgotten.” After a moment, he asked, his tone diffident, “Can you help me up?”

 

Lacey put an arm around his back and together they limped to Crispin’s room. She took his pants and shirt off and folded them neatly. As she turned to leave, he touched her arm. “Stay a minute?”

 

How could she admit she had to get out of there quickly or she wouldn’t be able to go at all? His handsome face—the strong chin covered with stubble, the pearly teeth contrasting with his tan skin, not to mention the long, graceful fingers he held out to her—all conspired to lure her closer. Her heart led the way, propelling her to his side. She sat down. “What is it?”

 

“Lacey…um.”

 

Her body tensed as desire fought to get out, and she fought just as hard to keep it in. I have to go. I have to…go. “What?”

 

His words came out in a rush. “Lacey, the other day—the first night—when you rescued me. When we…we…”

 

Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Christ.

 

“I…uh…want you to know I don’t do that on a regular basis.”

 

His air of shy ambivalence gave her courage. “I see. You don’t have sex on a regular basis?”

 

“No, no, it’s not that.” He stopped, flustered. “Er, I mean… I don’t sleep with women indiscriminately.”

 

Should she let him off the hook? Nah. “But you do sleep with a lot of women?”

 

“No! Lacey, you’re being difficult on purpose. I meant, that I didn’t mean to…you know. It just happened. Forgive me?”

 

“I—”

 

Armand interrupted her. “Not that it wasn’t enjoyable.” He seemed distracted, running a finger down her arm. “Wonderful. Fantastic. Too short.” He peered at her. “Lacey, you must know how beautiful you are. You have the most perfect cheekbones I’ve ever seen.”

 

“Cheekbones?” What the hell is he talking about?

 

“I’m an amateur photographer. Those cheekbones could belong to a supermodel. Perfectly sculpted. And your nose…” He tapped the tip. “A little pixie nose. It even turns up slightly. Your long, fine hair is the russet-gold of burnished copper pots I once saw piled high in a shop on Martinique. Your eyes…” He closed his. “Your eyes are the blue-green of a freshly mowed cricket field, of the emeralds that grow deep in the mountains, of the lagoon near my home on a blustery day.” He touched her hand. “Then there’s your body—as I remember it—a soft, comfortable, pillowy—”

 

“Hey!” Lacey shook her head to break the spell. “I think you’ve said enough. Get some sleep.”

 

She tried to rise, but he slipped his arms around her and drew her close. She wanted to struggle. She tried to struggle. It was no use. The long kiss filled her with a warmth that matched a fire on a cold night, a cup of cocoa, or a hot bath. When he lay back, the warmth turned to blazing passion. The power of it frightened her. I’ve got to go. She ran out of the room before he could stop her.

 

 

Buy Links:

TWRP: http://catalog.thewildrosepress.com/all-titles/4470-whirlwind-romance.html

 

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Whirlwind-Romance-M-S-Spencer-ebook/dp/B01HLSSS3Y/

 

Barnes & Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/whirlwind-romance-ms-spencer/1120206448

 

Kobo: https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/whirlwind-romance-4

 

Bookstrand: http://www.bookstrand.com/whirlwind-romance-0

 

iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/whirlwind-romance/id1137681038?mt=11

 

m-s-spencer-author-3


About the Author:

Although M. S. Spencer has lived or traveled in five of the seven continents, the last thirty years were spent mostly in Washington, D.C. as a librarian, Congressional staff assistant, speechwriter, editor, birdwatcher, kayaker, policy wonk, non-profit director, and parent. After many years in academia, she worked for the U.S. Senate, the U.S. Department of the Interior, in both public and academic library systems,, and at the Torpedo Factory Art Center in Alexandria, Virginia. She holds a Bachelor’s degree from Vassar College, a diploma in Arabic Studies from the American University in Cairo, and Masters in Anthropology and in Library Science from the University of Chicago.  All of this tends to insinuate itself into her works.

Ms. Spencer has published ten romantic suspense or murder mystery novels. She has two fabulous grown children and an incredible granddaughter. She divides her time between the Gulf Coast of Florida and a tiny village in Maine.

 

Contacts:

Blog: http://msspencertalespinner.blogspot.com

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

Twitter: www.twitter.com/msspencerauthor

Goodreads:http://www.goodreads.com/msspencer
Pinterest: http://pinterest.com/msspencerauthor/

 

My calendar of events can be found here:

Romance Books 4 Us: http://romancebooks4us.com/Romance%20Author%20M.%20S.%20Spencer.html

The Inheritance by @JacquelineSeewa (ld) #RomanticMystery #Mystery #NewRelease


the-inheritance-front-cover-2

 

Title: THE INHERITANCE

Author: Jacqueline Seewald

Genre: Romantic Mystery

Publisher: Intrigue Publishing

 

Book Blurb:

Jennifer Stoddard, a thirty-five-year-old widow with an eight-year-old son, receives a surprising letter which will change her life. Jennifer’s grandmother has passed away and named Jen as sole heir to her estate. To claim her inheritance she must return to Bloomingvale, the town in the Midwest where she grew up. Jen is informed by her grandmother’s attorney that to inherit she must meet the condition of living in her grandmother’s house for two years. Since the estate is substantial, she agrees. However, there are those who will stop at nothing to make certain that Jennifer does not inherit.

Jennifer is forced to call on old flame Police Chief Grant Coleman for help and protection.

 

Excerpt:

Late that afternoon as Jen left the house and started to drive away, a strange sound whizzed across the open front car windows from the driver’s side through the passenger side. She was startled by the sound. Her heart began to pound. Jen glanced over at the thicket of overgrown shrubs and trees to the side of the grounds that led back into woodlands. Had the sound been a bullet? If so, it had nearly hit her. Her hands shook on the driver’s wheel as she took off at high speed.

 

One block away she heard the police siren and saw the flashing lights. She groaned. Not again! He signaled with his hand, pointing his index finger for her to pull over. It was all she could do not to burst into tears.

 

Grant Coleman approached the car like a gunfighter in a spaghetti western. “I thought you learned something the first time,” he said. “Guess I was wrong. License and registration.” He held out his hand with a bored, impatient gesture.

 

“I have a very good reason for speeding.”

 

The smile was more of a smirk. The man was infuriating! “I’ve heard them all, but you can try.”

 

“As I left my grandmother’s house, a bullet passed through my car. I had the windows rolled down. So they weren’t broken, but it just missed hitting me.”

 

He stared at her. “Maybe it was a kid with a Beebe gun. Are you certain it was a bullet breezing by you? How familiar are you with weapons?”

 

“Not familiar at all, but I know what I heard.” Jen swallowed hard. “I think someone might have intended to shoot me.”

 

He let out a loud laugh. “In Bloomingvale? I doubt that very much.”

 

“So you’re not taking this seriously?” She folded her arms over her chest.

 

“Admit it. You’re just looking for an excuse to keep me from writing you another ticket.” His intense gray eyes bore into her like the steel blade of a dagger.

 

Jen raised her chin and stiffened her spine. “You are so wrong. Why don’t you check the area near the house, just to see if you can find anything.”

 

“Waste of time.” He leaned toward her and she felt his breath on her cheek which caused her to shiver. “Tell you what I will do though. I won’t write you a ticket this time because that’s the most creative excuse I’ve ever heard.”

 

“So glad I managed to amuse you,” she said.

 

Jen watched him drive off. He was probably still laughing, the sexy jerk. Several people had come out of their houses and were staring at her. Jen managed to restart her car and drove off before others gathered. She certainly didn’t want to make a spectacle of herself. Letting out a shaky breath, Jen wasn’t certain now if she’d really heard what she thought she had. A professional law enforcement officer didn’t think anything of it. She supposed it might have been nothing at all. Maybe it was a child with a Beebe gun as he suggested. But try as hard as she might, Jen couldn’t convince herself.

 

Buy Links:

IPG Book http://www.ipgbook.com/the-inheritance-products-9781940758503.php?page_id=32&pid=IPU

Amazon https://www.amazon.com/Inheritance-Jacqueline-Seewald/dp/1940758505

Barnes and Noble http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/the-inheritance-jacqueline-seewald/1124086025?ean=9781940758503

Kobo https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/inheritance-88

(as well as many other booksellers)

 

jacqueline-seewald

 

Author Biography:

Multiple award-winning author, Jacqueline Seewald, has taught creative, expository and technical writing at Rutgers University as well as high school English. She also worked as both an academic librarian and an educational media specialist. Seventeen of her books of fiction have been published to critical praise including books for adults, teens and children. THE INHERITANCE, a romantic mystery with cozy elements, is her latest novel. Her short stories, poems, essays, reviews and articles have appeared in hundreds of diverse publications and numerous anthologies. She loves hearing from readers. Her writer’s blog can be found at: http://jacquelineseewald.blogspot.com

 

Social Media Links:

Facebook https://www.facebook.com/jacqueline.seewald

 

Amazon https://amazon.com/author/jacquelineseewald

 

Twitter @JacquelineSeewa

 

 

Beachcomber Investigations by @StephanieQueen is a Must-Read #RomanticSuspense! #books


coverbeachcomber-investig-july-2016

 

Title:  Beachcomber Investigations

Author:  Stephanie Queen

Genre:  Romantic Suspense

 

Book Blurb:

Beachcomber Investigations – Book 1 – a Romantic Detective Series

 

Ex-special ops legend Dane Blaise is desperate to recruit Shana George away from Scotland Yard. Neither of them are sure it’s a good idea to partner in the new venture, Beachcomber Investigations.

 

Before they decide, they’re thrown into a mission to stop a sniper from killing Acer, Dane’s old friend from the unit. But their volatile relationship may break them before the threat of a dangerous killer does…

 

Excerpt:

Shana darted a glance at Dane leaning on the doorjamb, oozing his ridiculous brand of sensuality, all casual and strong. Visits to the hospital were usually nausea-inducing events in her life experience, but this visit had a whole different vibe. With all her might she resisted crediting Dane with the reality-defying mood she felt standing in the middle of this room immune to the scent of antiseptics wafting around her.

 

Instead, she refocused and smiled at Cap—Captain Colin Lynch—lounging against his pillows, all bandaged and sporting a sling and a grin as if the bullet in his shoulder had been a movie prop and he was playing the role of the injured State Police Chief of Martha’s Vineyard—and playing that role poorly.

 

“You’re not taking your injury very seriously,” she said. He grinned wider. She squelched a long-suffering sigh, because Cap was not one of her younger brothers. Far from it. He was a hunk of a grown man if she was in the mood for admitting things. Her gaze slid back to Dane as he moved into the room. He eyed her back and gave her that sizzling stare.

 

Without thought, her chin rose and she moved closer to Cap as if he would protect her. As if Dane Blaise were a monster. He was—if you thought of legendary war heroes who saved lives routinely—including your own—as monsters.

 

No. The monster was in her mind. But he was a threat to her well-being. Overly dramatic maybe, but she felt as if he were wielding a knife, ready to cut her heart out and shred it to pieces. All figuratively, of course.

 

Cap said, “I don’t need to be serious. You’re plenty serious for all of us. I think I like your Nurse Nightingale side—it’s cute on you.”

 

“Don’t start with me. It’s probably the meds putting that grin on your face.” Shana reached out and touched his arm. He was a good man, and luckily the prognosis was good for his arm.

 

“The meds and the medals. Puts me in the mood to celebrate. I’m told there’s a commendation coming—maybe even a ceremony with some pomp and circumstance.”

 

“Don’t believe everything you hear.” Dane snorted.

 

“Not even if it’s the governor talking?”

 

“Especially then.” Dane smiled and shook his head. “Okay—so maybe you will get a medal out of this.”

 

“Shana will get one too,” Cap said. He smiled and took hold of the hand she had on his arm. An instant hot alarm went through her and she avoided Dane’s eyes, hoping to God he wouldn’t make a deal out of the touch. It was an innocent touch. She was almost sure of it. There had been nothing between her and Cap. Nothing beyond mild sparks that flashed like firebugs more than fireworks.

 

Nothing like the atomic sparks between her and Dane.

 

Buy Links:

Amazon (99 cents for a limited time):  http://amzn.to/1L83jZQ

B&N:  http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/beachcomber-investigations-stephanie-queen/1122626819?ean=2940150812857

KOBO:  https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/beachcomber-investigations

IBooks: https://geo.itunes.apple.com/us/book/beachcomber-investigations/id1037828388?mt=11&at=1001l8JD

Smashwords:  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/585273

 

stephanie-queen

 

Author Biography:

USA Today Bestselling Author Stephanie Queen is a romantic at heart and a writer by nature. So of course she loves creating stories where the good guys always win. Although she’s lost count of all the jobs she had before she settled on being a Novelist, her favorite was selling cookies as a Keebler Elf. She is a graduate of UConn (go Huskies!) and Harvard U and lives in New Hampshire with her family, her cat, Kitty, and a troop of fun-loving friends.

 

Social Media Links:

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

Twitter:  @StephanieQueen

 

A Midnight Clear by @JeannieHallAuth Sizzles With #Suspense + #Romance! #bookreview


a-midnight-clear-cover-sexy

 

Title: A Midnight Clear: A Christmas Novella

Author: Jeannie Hall

Genre: Romantic Suspense, Holiday Romance

 

Book Blurb:

Hannah Barker went from looking forward to her first white Christmas in years to sitting handcuffed and terrified in an FBI interrogation room. They believe her to be a heroin mule for one of the largest and most notoriously successful international drug syndicates of the past decade–they even have pictures of her in Tijuana, proving her involvement. But she’s just an insurance agent from small town Arkansas. She’s never even been out of the country. What in the world is going on?

 

Chief Deputy Ian Velez can’t look forward to the holidays this year. His five-year-old daughter and two-year-old son are missing, kidnapped by his mentally unstable wife. His once idyllic home life has been turned on its head while he works on the single most important case of his career, busting open the Dominguez Cartel. Then he sees their first real lead into the case: Hannah Barker. But this beautiful if unworldly woman comes across as innocent rather than guilty.

 

When Hannah is nearly killed while in the FBI’s custody, Ian saves her in the nick of time, but this alerts him to a mole working within the auspices of the Bureau. Cutting contact with the FBI and his superiors seems his only option. Ian runs with Hannah to a snowy cabin in the middle of the wilderness. While hiding there, sparks fly between the two, surprising them both. Should they try to make the best out of a bad situation? Or is their sanctuary in much more danger than it seems?

 

My Review:

Hannah Barker is looking forward to celebrating Christmas but all that changes when she’s put in handcuffs in front of her insurance co-workers and hauled off for questioning. She’s mistaken for a Mexican drug mule and the FBI has DNA proof. She’s as squeaky clean as a girl scout but no one believes her. No one, except for Chief Deputy Ian.

 

Ian’s gut tells him Hannah is telling the truth. When shots are fired and it appears like the FBI has a mole, he grabs Hannah and heads for his cabin the woods. Now, they’re both on the run and stuck inside a small, deserted cabin. Sparks fly between Ian and Hannah and before you can say yowsy, they explore these feelings.

 

But there’s hidden secrets in Hannah’s past and they’re the ones gunning for her death. Can Ian save her from an executioner’s bullet or will he be too late?

 

Wow! What a fantastic romantic suspense novella. Filled with fleshed-out characters and tons of intense suspense, I read this in one sitting. Hall does an impressive job hiking up the stakes with intrigue, romance and a few steamy sex scenes. It didn’t feel rushed, even though it was a novella, and the characters were well-developed.

 

If you’re a fan of suspense with doses of hot romance, pick up this book today! I look forward to reading more from Jeannie Hall.

 

Favorite Character: Hannah. I liked her immediately and it was enjoyable to be immersed in her head while on the run and trying to out-run the FBI, the Mexican Cartel and her own feelings. Spunky, well-developed and a woman I’d love to be friends with. Go get ‘em, Hannah!

 

Favorite Quote:

“Turned out those fairytales she’d memorized as a kid were complete crap. Her picture-perfect future of floating down the aisle to her soul mate would never come true, so she’d cut her losses. She didn’t need a man, anyway.”

 

My Rating: 5 stars

 

Buy it now:

Amazon https://www.amazon.com/Midnight-Clear-Christmas-Novella-ebook/dp/B01M74KO07

Smashwords https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/675315

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/32789759-a-midnight-clear

 

Author Biography:

Jeannie Hall is a romantic thriller writer who creates dark and intense situations for her characters before giving them their happy ending. She is the author of VIOLATION OF FAITH, book one in the Cult Wife series (available in both print and eBook), and A MIDNIGHT CLEAR, a Christmas novella (available in eBook format).

 

Social Media Links:

Website http://jeanniehallsuspense.com/

Twitter http://twitter.com/JeannieHallAuth

Facebook http://facebook.com/JeannieHallAuthor

 

Reviewed by: Mrs. N

Beautiful Assassin by @Skyla_Madi #CoverReveal @XpressoTours #romance #suspense


Beautiful Assassin
Skyla Madi
(Syndicate #1)
Publication date: January 2017
Genres: New Adult, Romance, Suspense

Spoiler alert. I fall in love with the man who comes in the night.

 

He watches me down the scope of his rifle, and it’s terrifying and exhilarating, not knowing when he’ll squeeze the trigger.

 

If he’ll squeeze the trigger.

 

Maybe I’ll die tonight…

 

…maybe I’ll die next week.

 

It’s a sick and twisted game, but it’s ours. And just when I think our story ends at a distance, he comes in close, thrusting himself into my life.

 

We are at war, he and I, and eventually, he’ll have to kill me.

If he doesn’t, someone else will.

 

Add to Goodreads

*Designed by Deranged Doctor Design*

 

 

Author Bio:

 

Skyla Madi is an Australian writer from Brisbane, Queensland.

She started her writing career fresh out of high school and at 21 she is a giver of both real and fictional life.

Madi is an Aquarian, lover of the written word and author of the #1 BESTSELLING Consumed trilogy.

 

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter

 

XBTBanner1

Love in Times of War: #NewRelease #HolidayRecipe #LuvNWar @jacqbiggar


litw-21

 

The Christmas season is my favorite time of year. An air of festivity takes hold as stores bring out their holiday decorations and old time favorites play on the television.

 

One of my favorite Christmas recipes came from my grandmother, Waldorf salad. Every year I’d look forward to seeing that fancy glass bowl filled with chopped up apples taking pride of the place on our dining room table. It was Grandma’s donation to our holiday dinner.

 

We’ve kept the tradition going, even though she passed away a few years ago. Now, when I look upon that simple bowl of salad every year, I feel her presence among us and smile.

 

waldorf-salad

 

WALDORF SALAD

6 Spartan or Mac Apples

3 Stalks Celery

1 cup Chopped Walnuts

1 cup Mayo, 2 tbsp. sugar, 4 tbsp. milk whipped together

 

Use lemon juice or citric acid to whiten apples.

 

Peel and chop apples and celery into bite-size pieces, sprinkle with lemon juice. Add walnuts. Stir in dressing and refrigerate until use. Enjoy.

 

***

 Love in Times of War: Boxed Set Romance Bundle 

by Uvi Poznansky  (Author), Tamara Ferguson  (Author), Jacquie Biggar  (Author), D.G. Torrens  (Author), Angelica Kate (Author), Traci Hall  (Author), Jennifer St. Giles  (Author), Regina Puckett  (Author), Suzanne Jenkins  (Author), S.R. Mallery (Author), Susan Jean Ricci  (Author), PJ Fiala  (Author)

 

At no other point is passion put to the test as in dire times of war. From the American Civil War to WWII, from Vietnam to the War in Afghanistan to the Persian Gulf, the stories in this boxed set summon the strength of true lovers. Written by bestselling, award-winning, and USA Today authors, the novels and novellas in this collection tell of overcoming loss, injuries, and separation, to celebrate the victory of love.

If you like Military Romance, Wounded Warrior Romance, Historical Romance, Contemporary Romance, or Romantic Suspense, this anthology invites you to triumph over the worst of conditions and find the courage to bring forth the best in us.

Buy Link: Amazon

Love In Times of War is up for sale at any of these fine venues:

🌻 #Kindle http://BookShow.me/B01M0SOXQW

🌻 #Nook http://tinyurl.com/luvitoWar

🌻 #Apple http://tinyurl.com/luvitoWar-a

🌻 #Kobo http://tinyurl.com/luvitoWar-k

🌻 #Smashwords http://tinyurl.com/luvitoWar-s

 

Get your copy now!

 

BOOK BITES – 12 award winning, best-selling authors give you some tidbits from their LOVE IN TIMES OF WAR boxed set!

 

Try a sample, take the whole assortment:

 

Book Bites: Love in Times of War

Kindle ★  Nook ★  Kobo ★  Smashwords

 

 JacquieBiggar_TheRebelsRedemption_800px

 

Excerpts from The Rebel’s Redemption by Jacquie Biggar:

“Miss Campbell, guess what? Jake’s here. He was outside when we went to get Susan. How cool is that?”

“That’s pretty cool all right. How’d he get here? And where’s Chris?” She’d grabbed up a napkin to wipe the ice cream from her lips, when a voice out of the past lifted the hairs on the nape of her neck and sent a shiver down her spine.

“He’s here. With me.”

The smooth tones rolled over her, and sucked all the air out of the room. Annie stiffened, then crumpled the napkin and slowly turned in her seat—yep, it was Jared all right. And Chris.

Oh.

My.

God.

He looked good. The random thought floated through her mind even as she tried to digest the fact he was finally back. Eight years too late, but he was here. She wanted to grab Chris and run. Run before what was obvious to her became obvious to everyone else. Shit.

“Hello, Annie, it’s been a long time.” Why was he looking at her as if she’d betrayed him? She wasn’t the one to cut and run without a single word in all this time. Goddamn him.

“Jared. Yes, it has been. A very long time. There were no phones where you were? Your mother probably would’ve appreciated knowing whether you were dead or alive.” Not to mention herself. She’d promised herself she wasn’t going down this road, the blame road. It was time to leave.

She turned her back on him, looked into Jack’s concerned eyes, and forced herself to smile as if her heart wasn’t shattering into a million tiny pieces. “I better get back. Tina needs to take her break. Call me later?”

He gave her waist a warm squeeze, and placed a gentle kiss on her cheek before sliding free. “I’m not sure what’s going on, but for what it’s worth, I’ve got your back.”

Near tears, she stood from the table, and without looking at either man again, grabbed both children’s hands and hustled them out the door.

Annie’s heart tried to leap out of her chest, one hand muffling her scream, while the other clutched the now half-empty box. Why hadn’t she made sure she locked the door behind the delivery guy this morning? Of all the asinine, irresponsible things to do.

“I…I’m sorry, we’re closed right now. Can you ma…maybe come back later?”

Like never.

The stranger—she was pretty sure she’d never seen him before—stayed to the shadows, denying her a clear view of his features. He wore an old-fashioned bowler hat tipped forward over his eyes, and a black greatcoat, one hand tucked into the pocket. She was probably about to star in her own horror flick. Killed with her own merchandise. She could see the headlines already. Annie kept a nervous gaze on that pocket, her imagination going into overdrive.

When the silence threatened to explode in her head, he bent and picked up one of the carving knives she’d graciously sent his way. His thumb skimmed up and down the blade. She didn’t think she’d ever been so scared in her life.

“Please, I have no money. What do you want?”

That got a reaction. His hand stilled on the blade and piercing eyes looked up and pinned her in place. “Tell Martin I here. There is nowhere he can hide.” He threw the knife. Annie gasped and recoiled as the blade flew through the air and embedded itself obscenely in the heart of her sewing mannequin. “Tell him he must pay.” Without another word, he disappeared out the door, a dark wraith.

Annie sank to the floor in a boneless heap. Now that it was over her teeth chattered, and shivers racked her frame. Who was he? What did he want? She wanted to believe it was all a misunderstanding and he’d come to the wrong door, but in her heart she knew better.

This was about Jared.

 

***

Jared’s world narrowed down to the little black barrel of the gun pointed at his chest. Funny, in all the years of being in the SEAL teams he’d never been in this situation. Not to say he hadn’t dodged his share of bullets. It’s just they’d always erupted like a hailstorm, out of nowhere. This was somewhere. The back alley of his mother’s freaking café in freaking America to be exact. What the hell?

If he wasn’t so pissed off at himself for getting into this situation, he might have laughed. Eight years overseas off and on, and he was going to get shot in his own backyard. How’s that for ironic?

“Look man, why don’t we talk about this?” Jared forced his gaze to focus on Sergei’s steely gaze instead of the muzzle of the semi-automatic.

“The time for talk is past,” the Russian said. “You ignored my advice and instead made a fool out of me with that stupid trick you performed.”

“Advice? You call beating the livin’ shit out of me, advice?” Jared ground his teeth together, and fought to keep a level tone. “You can’t blame a guy for wanting to retaliate.” A crash by the garbage caused both men to crouch into a fight stance. A tabby cat raced away. Jared straightened, his heart knocking against his ribcage, as desperate to escape this mess as the animal. He needed to defuse the situation before someone came upon them; please God not his mom.

“Okay, you’re right. I shouldn’t have set off alarms or caused those slots to pay out. But seriously dude, you can’t go around acting all KGB, we’re in the good old USA now.” Jared kept a careful eye on the guy’s trigger finger and cursed his loose tongue. What part of defuse couldn’t he figure out?

Sergei tipped his felt hat back on his bald head like an old time gunslinger. His hand holding the gun never wavered. “You have big mouth.”

Yeah, I’ve heard that a time or ten.

“Why don’t we handle this like two adults? I’ll call your boss, tell him I screwed up and it’ll never happen again…” There was no doubt on that, if he ever went near a casino again he’d kick his own ass. “And then you can go back to ruling your little kingdom far, far, away.”

Click.

The sound of the hammer cocking reverberated with frightening clarity in the small alley. There wasn’t even anywhere for him to take cover. The garbage can was at least ten feet away. Jared’s jaw cramped from the tension. His skin crawled as if overrun with fire ants. Where was his team when he needed them?

He’d just decided the only alternative was to rush the son-of-a-bitch when the alley erupted with the screams and laughter of children. Two kids rounded the corner at full speed on pedal bikes, racing each other to an imaginary finish line.

Sergei seized the opportunity, stepped between the bicycles and scooped the kids off their seats. The bikes, wheels still turning, fell to the ground in front of him creating a barrier. The kids—God, it was Chris and little Jessica—shrieked until Sergei shook them, then they froze, eyes wide and frightened, hanging under his arms like rag dolls.

“Let them go, you motherfu…” Jared’s voice came out low and lethal. Every muscle in his body prepared itself for the moment of attack. His breathing slowed until he could count each heartbeat as the blood coursed through his veins. Waiting. Watching.

Barnikov laughed. Laughed. The prick.

“Now it my turn to play game.” Jared made a slight move and Sergei’s smile flat-lined. He dropped Jessica to the ground in front of him but kept his forearm wrapped around her neck. The gun nestled the side of her head pointed straight at Chris dangling from his other arm. “Move and I shoot.” He shuffled the trio back towards the mouth of the alley. “We’ll talk again, my friend.”

And then he disappeared around the corner, leaving nothing but the slowly turning tire on a bike, and Jared’s heart as it shattered.

 

Jacquie Biggar

Author Bio:

JACQUIE BIGGAR  is a USA Today bestselling author of Romantic Suspense who loves to write about tough, alpha males who know what they want, that is until they’re gob-smacked by heroines who are strong, contemporary women willing to show them what they really need is love. She is the author of the popular Wounded Hearts series and has just started a new series in paranormal suspense, Mended Souls.

 

She has been blessed with a long, happy marriage and enjoys writing romance novels that end with happily-ever-afters.

 

Jacquie lives in paradise along the west coast of Canada with her family and loves reading, writing, and flower gardening. She swears she can’t function without coffee, preferably at the beach with her sweetheart. 🙂

 

Free reads, excerpts, author news, and contests can be found on her web site:

http://jacqbiggar.com

 

You can follow her on at http://Facebook.com/jacqbiggar , http://Twitter.com/jacqbiggar

Or email her via her web site. Jacquie lives on Vancouver Island with her husband and loves to hear from readers all over the world!

 

You can also join her street team on Facebook: Biggar’s Book Buddies

 

And sign up for her newsletter-

http://eepurl.com/2MFvX

 

The Power of Love and Murder by @brendawhitesid2 #bookreview #TWRP


thepowerofloveandmurder

 

Title: The Power of Love and Murder (The Love and Murder Series Book 4)

Author: Brenda Whiteside

Genre: Romantic Suspense, Suspense

 

Book Blurb:

For thirteen years, Penny Sparks has managed to hide from the political powers who murdered her family. When she unwittingly exposes her true identity, not only is she marked for death, but the people closest to her risk meeting the same fate.

 

Jake Winters is out of rehab and coming to grips with his demons. When he meets his sister’s roommate, Jake believes Penny might be that someone who can help him find life after rock star status…until her secrets blow up his world.

 

With a government agent turned hit man closing in on her, Penny and Jake race to expose the presidential contender behind the murders of her family. Even if they win the race with death, the murder that stands between them could end their hope for a new life.

 

My Review:

Imagine you’re on your way home from high school when your brother sends you a text warning you to not go home. In a flash, you realize your family is in danger and not even the police can help. You flee, change your name to Penny and start a new life in a small town in the desert. Now imagine, missing your extended family so bad you contact your aunt using your roommate’s computer. What harm could it do?

 

Penny’s about to find out just how badly one man wants her dead. He’s already killed every member of her family; she’s the last surviving link. He’s got his eye on the White House and nothing, not even an innocent email, will stand in the way of him being President.

 

Jake is a washed-up rocker, fresh out of rehab, and in need of a place to stay. He crashes at his sister’s and meets the secretive Penny. He’s attracted to her but knows that he’s not in a good place to start a relationship. Sparks fly and he finally gives into his feelings. But all that goes up in flames when tragedy hits.

 

A rogue government agent/hitman tracks down Penny and soon both she and Jake are on the run. Can they outrun him long enough to expose the truth about Penny’s family murderer or will they lose this game of cat and mouse?

 

This was my first book by Brenda Whiteside and I must admit, I enjoyed it. Whiteside pours on the suspense with just enough romance thrown in to allow me to catch my breath. It started out fast, slowed down and then sped up at the end. While there were parts near the end that I felt dragged a bit, I thoroughly enjoyed reading, The Power of Love and Murder. Jake and Penny are well-developed and no insta-love here. Both had to deal with their own demons, sometimes alone and sometimes together, which I found realistic. Jake’s reactions to Penny’s secrets were honest and even at times, humorous.

 

If you’re a fan of romantic suspense, this is a must read. If you’re a fan of suspense and/or political thrillers, you’ll love it! I look forward to reading more from Brenda Whiteside.

 

Favorite Character: Jake. At the beginning, I wasn’t sure what to make of him. Was he going to be the bad guy or hero? I loved his personal growth and how he dealt with all that Penny threw at him. They’re a real couple, both filled with insecurities and demons chasing them, yet when push comes to shove, Jake is determined to show Penny he’s the man for her and nothing can keep them apart, not even murder.

 

Favorite Quote: “Penny, I know how much she meant to you.” How much she meant to both of them. He wanted to hold her, share their loss. “I’m not leaving you.”

 

My Rating:  4.5 stars

 

Buy it now:

Amazon US https://www.amazon.com/Power-Love-Murder-Book-ebook/dp/B01M3YVO4H/

Goodreads https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/32884499-the-power-of-love-and-murder

 

brenda-whiteside

Author Biography:

Convinced she was born to be an artist, Brenda never took her love of writing seriously. And then one day, sometime after college, after marrying a man doing a stint in the army, and after the birth of her son, she found more satisfaction filling a blank page with words than an empty canvas with color.

 

Brenda and her husband are gypsies at heart having lived in six states and two countries. Currently, they split their time between the prairie in Northern Arizona and the RV life. At home or in the RV, she spends most of her time writing stories of discovery and love entangled with suspense.

 

Social Media Links:

Visit Brenda at www.brendawhiteside.com

Facebook: www.facebook.com/BrendaWhitesideAuthor

Twitter: https://twitter.com/#!/brendawhitesid2

She blogs on the 9th and 24th of every month at http://rosesofprose.blogspot.com

She blogs about prairie life on her personal blog http://brendawhiteside.blogspot.com/

 

Reviewed by: Mrs. N

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

Love #DarkRomance? Grab Your #FREE Copy of Wetwork by @CadenceDenton #books 18+


WetWork WEB 12112014

 

Title: WetWork, Dark Man Case Files, Episode 1

Author: Cadence Denton

Genre: Dark Romance, Romantic Suspense

 

Book Blurb:

The Place Where Danger Meets Desire…

 

Enter a shadow world of espionage and counter espionage. Where killing is a career path that pays according to your level of expertise, where you are only as good as your last hit.

 

Enter a world where competition is fierce and growing eyes in the back of your head is a requirement, where you could be the shooter one day and the target the next.

 

Enter a world where this moment, this breath could be your last.

 

WetWork is a gritty, action-packed romantic serial (25k). Filled with pulsing passion and heart pounding intrigue, it is the first episode in this hot, new series by author Cadence Denton. Each installment ends in a cliffhanger.

 

Someone is killing Department hunters one-by-one. Dark Man, the Department’s best hitman, is determined to find the assassin and take him out.

 

The Archangel is known throughout the globe for her body count. Now her employers, the Chernyy Group, Russia’s super-secret counter intelligence agency, have aimed her at its rival, the Department…and DM.

 

When DM captures the illusive Angel, sparks fly and passions explode.

 

When she asks his name, he replies, “I’m your future.”

 

But is he her future lover or executioner?

 

He has questions. She has the answers. He knows what he should do, but why not do what he wants—seduce her and get the answers that way?

 

Extended 18+ Excerpt:

DM leaned against the bar, a tumbler of Southern Comfort in his fist and a cigar clenched between his teeth, listening to his friend, Ethan Dusk, growl into the microphone while his band committed assault and battery with guitars and a drum set.

 

She walked through the door, was carded by Tiny the enormous bouncer slash doorman before stepping in time with the throbbing bass beat through the crowd.

 

Miles of bare legs disappeared beneath the tiny denim skirt cupping her heart shaped ass. Her narrow waist was exposed thanks to a black tee cut down to the middle of her rib cage. The sugar skull design picked out in tiny rhinestones gave her a Screamo-wannabe look. Her hair, a brown so dark it could pass for black and cut in chopped layers that brushed her smooth shoulders, bounced with every step she took on her black, peep-toe, lace up ankle booties. With her sexy, naughty Madonna attitude, there wasn’t a limp dick in the joint. Including his.

 

DM watched as hard leg number one, a big, blond biker dressed in his club’s colors and jeans, his bare chest and arms covered in ink, grabbed her arm. She paused a second, covered the man’s hand with her much smaller one, and with a smile pulled free and moved on. He was replaced by hard leg number two. The thin, dark haired goth dressed in black with black painted nails and eyes rimmed in kohl stepped before her and gave her a courtly bow. She returned a mock curtsey and spun past him strutting straight to the bar. Where DM stood.

 

Her hands grabbed the bar as she called for a Piece of Ass making the rest of the hard legs stand at attention and Speck, the bartender, grin. She turned to DM looking up. And up. “You’re a tall one, aren’t you?” She said with a smile. The dimple in her right cheek made him want to lick it.

 

Fast forward through the preliminary bullshit to where DM pulled her to his room above the club and tossed her onto the bed. She laughed, a throaty chuckle that made him throb with need.

 

He followed her down, devouring her mouth, nibbling her sexy bottom lip, before tonguing the intriguing dent that appeared with the slightest curve of her lips. She groaned in response, her small tongue stroking, her teeth raking his lips. He thrust his hips against her, wanting to get closer. Wanting to get the goddam clothes out of his way.

 

“You like that, baby?”

 

“Please,” she whispered, her voice husky.

 

“Patience,” he said. “These things can’t be rushed.”

 

“Ooo, you’re cruel,” she groaned.

 

***

 

“What’s your name?” he asked, kissing the inside of one thigh then the other.

 

She smiled, cocked her head and countered, “Who are you?”

 

Without a second thought DM replied, “Your future.”

 

Goddam, why had he said that?

 

***

 

The soft cough of Gamer’s gun as he double-tapped the target finalizing the contract, an octogenarian with a paunch and baldhead, brought DM out of his stupor.

 

“Did you catch my shadow?” Gamer’s voice sounded in his ear.

 

DM’s gaze tangled with the woman’s. Watching a single dark eyebrow lift in question, he scowled in response. He was torn, and furious that he found himself torn. He shouldn’t feel conflicted. Hell, he should turn her ass over to the Medic, whoever the fuck she was.

 

“Dark Man—?” Gamer hissed.

 

“Dark Man?” she gasped.

 

His scowl deepened. DM’s exploits had become an urban legend in the small world of assassins and hitmen. Hell, they’d been embellished to the point you’d think he could frickin’ sprout wings and fly while shooting laser beams from his eyes.

 

She attempted to slide from his loosened grip. Automatically, he tightened it, crushing her to him. She exhaled, then went slack as though saying, Do what you want.

 

“Dark Man—?”

 

DM’s jaw flexed once, twice.

 

“No,” he answered, eyeing her. “Your shadow got away.” He inexplicably loosed his grip, freeing the woman and stepped back. He was setting her free. Why?

 

She reached up on her tiptoes and pressed her lips to DM’s, running her tongue lightly over his bottom lip. Then she stepped back and disappeared into the night.

 

Note: Excerpt has been edited due to this blog’s PG-13 rating. Trust me, it’s super-steamy and worth the read. – Mrs. N 

 

Get your free copy at these retailers:

Amazon
Nook
iBooks
Kobo
24symbols
inktera
Scribd.
ARe

 

Cadence Denton

 

Author Biography:

I’m an odd mixture of one part dreamer, one part realist, and two parts stubborn—which can be a positive thing if you’re a writer. Not content to write in just one genre, I write dark paranormal romance, time travel, light science fiction, romantic comedy, and gritty romantic thrillers. Told you I was stubborn (that and a little crazy!). Besides, doing the same thing day after day can become boring and we can do with a little less boring, right?

 

 

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

 

Stalk Cadence all over the web :

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

Email: cadencedentonauthor@gmail.com

Website: http://www.cadencedenton.com

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

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

Instagram: https://instagram.com/cadence.denton/

 

 

Cozy Christmas Shorts by @LeslieLangtry and Other Bestselling Authors #cozymystery #99cents


cozychristmasshorts_5in

 

Title:   CHRISTMAS COZY SHORTS

Authors:  Multiple NY Times & USA Today Bestselling authors – Gemma Halliday, Leslie Langtry, T. Sue VerSteeg,  Anne Marie Stoddard, Anna Snow, Traci Andrighetti, Jennifer L. Hart, Kerri Nelson, Janel Gradowski, Gin Jones, Kelly Rey, Jennifer Fischetto

 

Genre:   Cozy, Humor, Mystery

 

Publisher:   Gemma Halliday Publishing

 

Book Blurb:  

11 holiday themed cozy mystery short stories by New York TimesUSA Today, and National Bestselling authors! Short holiday bites perfect for enjoying while waiting in holiday lines or binge-reading over a cup of hot cocoa!

 
** The authors are donating a portion of proceeds from this collection to Toys for Tots! **

 
This LIMITED TIME collection includes the holiday short stories from some of our most popular series and you can get a copy for only 99 cents.

 

Excerpt: 

SCOUT CAMP MURDER

(Merry Wrath Mysteries)

by Leslie Langtry

* * * * *

My worst nightmare had come true. Never in all my life had I been surrounded by something so terrifying, so alarming that I was seriously concerned for my life.

“Fire!” the eight-year-old in front of me cried out with glee. At her feet were what I would loosely guess (and possibly exaggerate) to be at least a thousand matches.

“Ava!” I shouted to get her attention, but she was vibrating in place on a sugar buzz that would horrify a PCP addict.

“Stop lighting matches! It’s time for Emily to try it,” I said, barely suppressing a shiver.

My name is Merry Wrath. I was once a CIA agent, active in the world’s most deadly hellholes. But this place was worse. This was Girl Scout Summer Camp.

 

Buy Links (99 cents at all retailers):  http://www.gemmahalliday.com/Halliday_Publishing/ourbooks/CozyChristmasShorts/

 

aLeslie_Langtry_009

 

Author Biography:

Leslie Langtry is the author of the Merry Wrath Mysteries, Bombay’s Greatest Hits series, Sex, Lies, & Family Vacations, The Hanging Tree Tales as Max Deimos and several books she hasn’t finished yet, because she’s very lazy.

 

Leslie loves puppies and cake (but she will not share her cake with puppies) and thinks praying mantids make everything better. She lives with her family and assorted animals in the Midwest, where she is currently working on her next book and trying to learn to play the ukulele.

 

Leslie’s favorite color is orange and her favorite flavor is sugar.

 

Social Media Links for Leslie Langtry:

Website: http://www.leslielangtry.com/

 

Twitter: https://twitter.com/LeslieLangtry

 

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

 

Spotlight: Return to Kilcraig by @RosemaryGemmell #RomanticSuspense #Books


kilcraig-cover

 

Title: Return to Kilcraig

Author: Rosemary Gemmell

Genre: Contemporary Romantic Suspense

 

Book Blurb:

The legacy of her beloved grandmother’s cottage in the Scottish village of Kilcraig seems like the ideal solution after Christy Morrison’s recent trauma. Until the threats begin. Can she trust her heart and allow herself to fall in love again?

 

 

When Ross McKinley reluctantly welcomes Christy back to the village, he has hardened his heart against love, until they begin to renew their childhood friendship. But someone is determined Christy should go back to London. Will they find the culprit in time?

 

 

Excerpt:

Christy Morrison stepped down from the train at Glasgow Central Station and took a deep breath. Almost home. Loading her two cases and bag on to a trolley with difficulty, she pushed them along the busy platform, searching for a familiar friendly face. The wood-fronted shops and cafés on the concourse were a welcome sight as was the famous Victorian clock suspended from the ceiling; a meeting place for countless rail travellers over the years.

 

 

Cameron had offered to meet her and she couldn’t wait to see him again. As she glanced around, Christy stood still. Making his way towards her was a familiar face all right, but it wasn’t Cameron. She watched as Ross McKinley noticed her and continued towards her without increasing his pace.

 

 

She had time to note how he towered above most men, how his dark brown hair flopped slightly on to his high forehead, then she was staring into dark grey eyes that examined her solemnly.

 

 

“Hello Christy, welcome back.” He held out a hand and Christy hesitated. Then she let her small hand rest in his for a moment before she withdrew it.

 

 

“Hello Ross. I didn’t expect to see you here.”

 

 

“I had business in Glasgow yesterday and stayed over so I could meet you. Save Cameron a journey.”

 

 

Christy smiled briefly and indicated her luggage. She wished his brother had come instead so she could chat without restraint. Although she was glad to have been met at all, she reminded herself. But there was still constraint between her and Ross that they’d never had a chance to resolve.

 

 

“The car’s in the adjacent street.” He lifted the luggage easily, leaving the trolley for someone needier and Christy followed with only her bag to carry, determined to keep up with his long strides.

 

 

Not exactly welcoming, but she didn’t expect anything else of Ross McKinley where she was concerned. Their earlier friendship through childhood and teens had changed one year after a foolish New Year’s kiss that she had treated too seriously and he had laughed off in embarrassment. She had been glad to spend her next few years studying and living in London with only fleeting visits back home to her beloved grandmother. And she didn’t need Ross McKinley’s unspoken disapproval to remind her how much she had let Gran down when she became ill. The guilt still followed her around at not being with the elderly woman in her final days.

 

 

 

Buy Links:

Amazon UK: https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B01MFGEQLT/

 

Amazon US: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B01MFGEQLT/

 

rosemary-gemmell

 

Author Biography:

Rosemary Gemmell is a published historical and contemporary novelist for adults (also as Romy) and also writes for the Middle Grade/tween age group (as Ros). Her short stories, articles and occasional poems have been published in UK magazines, in the US, and online and several stories have won awards.

 

 

Rosemary has a post-graduate Masters in literature and history and is a member of the Society of Authors, the Romantic Novelists’ Association, and the Scottish Associations of Writers. She loves to share writing information and give help to other writers whenever possible in person and through her blog. She also loves to dance!

 

 

Social Media Links:

Website: http://www.rosemarygemmell.com

 

Blog: http://ros-readingandwriting.blogspot.com

 

Facebook: https://fb.me/RomyGemmell

 

Twitter: https://twitter.com/RosemaryGemmell

 

 

The Place Where Danger Meets Desire… by @CadenceDenton #darkromance #romanticsuspense


2X5bANNER copy

The Place Where Danger Meets Desire…

Enter a shadow world of espionage and counter espionage. Where killing is a career path that pays according to your level of expertise, where you are only as good as your last hit.

Enter a world where competition is fierce and growing eyes in the back of your head is a requirement, where you could be the shooter one day and the target the next.

Enter a world where this moment, this breath could be your last.

Warning: Each episode ends in a cliffhanger

 

WetWork WEB 12112014

 

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00RJDKRNQ

Blurb:
Someone is killing Department hunters one-by-one. Dark Man, the Department’s best hitman, is determined to find the assassin and take him out.
The Archangel is known throughout the globe for her body count. Now her employers, the Chernyy Group, Russia’s super-secret counter intelligence agency, have aimed her at its rival, the Department…and DM.
When DM captures the illusive Angel, sparks fly and passions explode.
When she asks his name, he replies, “I’m your future.”
But is he her future lover or executioner?
He has questions. She has the answers. He knows what he should do, but why not do what he wants—seduce her and get the answers that way?

 

Excerpt:

The soft cough of Gamer’s gun as he double-tapped the target finalizing the contract, an octogenarian with a paunch and bald head, brought DM out of his stupor.

“Did you catch my shadow?” Gamer’s voice sounded in his ear.

DM’s gaze tangled with the woman’s. He watched a single dark eyebrow lift in question and scowled in response. He was torn, and furious that he found himself torn. He shouldn’t feel conflicted. Hell, he should turn her ass over to the Medic, whoever the fuck she was.

“Dark Man—?” Gamer hissed.

“Dark Man?” she gasped.

His scowl deepened. DM’s exploits had become an urban legend in the small world of assassins and hitmen. Hell, they’d been embellished to the point you’d think he could frickin’ sprout wings and fly while shooting laser beams from his eyes.

She attempted to slide from his loosened grip. Automatically, he tightened it, crushing her to him. She exhaled, then went slack as though saying, Do what you want.

“Dark Man—?”

DM’s jaw flexed once, twice.

“No,” he answered, eyeing her. “Your shadow got away.” He inexplicably loosed his grip, freeing the woman and stepped back. He was setting her free. Why?

She reached up on her tip toes and pressed her lips to DM’s, running her tongue lightly over his bottom lip. Then she stepped back and disappeared into the night.

***

“I just don’t get it,” Gamer said for the thousandth time running a gloved hand over his close cropped head.

DM clenched his teeth and breathed heavily through his nose. Breathed—not sighed. He did nothing so limp wristed as “sigh”. He hit the door when the security light turned green, lengthening his stride to fit his six foot six inch frame hoping to leave Gamer and his questions behind.

Gamer’s stride wasn’t far off DM’s still he quickened his pace to keep up with the bigger man, his rubber soled boots squeaking on the polished tile floor. DM’s heavier boots thundered out a steady military-smart rhythm.

“You say you had the tracker in your sights…and he got away?” Gamer asked in that incredulous tone that had DM grinding his teeth in frustration.

DM picked up the pace, his black ankle-length duster flapping behind him like the cape of the super-hero he was supposed to be. More like anti-hero he thought darkly.

“I didn’t let him get away,” he growled. Better to let Gamer think the person tailing him was male. Much better.

“See…that’s where it doesn’t make sense,” Gamer insisted. “My shadow escaped untouched and unharmed…from you.”

“Dammit, Gamer, you act like I’m fuckin’ Wolverine.”

“But you never miss a target.”

DM stopped so suddenly the skirts of his coat circled his calves. Gamer continued a couple steps further before stopping. He turned to face the big man his expression expectant.

“Listen,” DM growled, “I don’t know what you want from me. I guess I zigged when I shoulda’ mother fuckin’ zagged and the son of a bitch got away.” His big hands curled into sledge hammer-sized fists.

Gamer lifted his hands, palm side out. “Fine…okay…sorry.”

DM exhaled again and no, it sure as hell wasn’t a sigh, before continuing down the hallway with Gamer trailing him.

“Still…you have to admit that isn’t like you, DM.”

“I’m not fuckin’ Superman, dude,” DM growled and paced off leaving Gamer at the desk to sign in his equipment.

DM’s scowl was aimed squarely at himself. How the fuck did he think he’d possibly convince the Chief that Gamer’s shadow had the chops to escape him when he couldn’t even convince Gamer? This had to be the first time his legendary reputation worked against him. Another deep breath. Why? Why had he let her go?

 

WetWork Episode WEB 01122015

 

 

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00TIQ4AKS

Blurb:
Just once Dark Man would like to go a day without having to dodge bullets. Just freaking once. However, since Angel crash-landed in his life, that’s all he’s been doing.

 

Angel feels pulled in opposite directions. On the one hand, she wants to admit the truth to DM, but on the other, she knows she must remain loyal to Damien, her boss and DM’s identical twin. What troubles her most is can she trust Damien or will he put her head on the chopping block? Then there’s one small problem.
She’s attracted to both men.

 

The leader of the super-secret Guild, Damien has cut all ties with his estranged brother. Or has he? One thing DM knows for certain, if Damien is stirring this pot then it’s poisonous.

 

When the Department and Chernyy start to doubt their agent’s loyalty, then Dark Man and Angel have no choice but to trust each other and hope their skills will keep them alive.

 

Excerpt:

DM plucked a champagne flute from the tray held by a waiter and offered it to Elle.

“I see one, two… make that three of Moto’s lieutenants and several representatives of the Columbian growers’ conglomerate,” Elle whispered through the link, the glass masking her mouth.

The security detail scattered so obviously around the mansion and grounds weren’t the real danger. High powered cameras with the ability to zoom in and count the hairs on a flea’s back were. Not to mention the lip reading software now standard in most high level systems.

Have you located the target?

“He’s at the foot of the stairs, greeting guests,” DM said, dropping a kiss on Elle’s shoulder.

That was a bit of luck there. With a little more they could get the job done and be away well under the allotted time.

Proceed, the handler said.

DM followed Elle, his eyes sweeping the room, searching out the nooks, looking for enemies and cameras, but the laser lighting and the crushing crowd made it difficult. Instead he focused on the welcoming committee.

Moto had two bodyguards flanking him. One shifted and DM saw the glint of his pistol in the shoulder holster beneath his tuxedo jacket. Both men had the hard countenances and shifting gazes that bespoke serious training. For once, it was nice to see the briefing for this job had been on target, he thought sourly. Bad intelligence made his job harder. Not impossible, just harder. Tonight, he’d like easy.

They continued their downward trek, trailing an older man whose arms were around two teens – a boy and a girl. Descending the wide stairs in fits and starts, the old sod passed the time running one hand over the girl’s breasts and the other fondling the boy’s bottom. The girl giggled nervously while the boy tried to step out of the pervert’s reach. DM eyed the old goat. It would take two, three seconds to break the man’s wrists. While that would offer a welcome diversion besides give new meaning to the axiom: keep your hands to yourself, DM could not. He was on the Department clock. Maybe he’d visit the pervert another night and have a little heart to heart. He looked away, exhaling a long breath. It wasn’t a sigh. He did nothing so limp wristed as sigh.

Moto waited to meet his guests at the foot of the stairs like a gracious monarch. Dark hair swept back and gelled into place, coffee colored skin, blue eyes, average height, and stocky build, he was dressed in a white silk shirt unbuttoned to reveal a paunch worthy of a hibernating bear and tan linen pants. Grinning around a cigar clenched between his teeth and the curvy woman hanging on his arm, Moto yucked it up with the old pervert before sending him and his underage sex toys on their way. Change the face and location and Moto could be anyone of a thousand narcissistic killers DM had offed, he thought huffing again. He was so ready to get this job done.

“Remember, he’s not stupid so don’t you be stupid,” Elle hissed as they stepped forward.

“You watch yourself, rookie. I’m not runnin’ a daycare,” DM growled, giving her a level look. He’d have a talk with the Chief about pairing him with inexperienced smart asses when he got back to the Department.

“Welcome, welcome, friends to my humble home,” Moto said in Spanish. His unique dialect, a blend of Mayan and Spanish, pegged the Yucatan Peninsula as his home.

“I am honored to have been invited, jefe,” DM replied in the same language, if not dialect, gripping Moto’s hand.

Moto nodded at the compliment DM had given him in his choice of title. By calling Moto boss, DM was recognizing the man’s status, his power.

“And I am honored by the presence of a representative from my dear Venezuelan friends. Your lovely lady is very welcome as well,” Moto added, reaching for Elle’s hand.

Time seemed to slow as DM focused in hard on the exchange. This was it. Go time.

Smiling, Elle stretched out her hand to grasp his. The ring on her middle finger was large, spanning from knuckle to knuckle.  Sparkling in the light, its deadly cache of poison was cleverly hidden in the twists of silver. The poison was fast acting, once delivered to the target’s bloodstream via the hidden needle it would set to work immediately; causing tachycardia, a rise in temperature, confusion, vomiting, unconsciousness, and finally death. From beginning to end, it would take an hour. Tops.

Elle murmured some platitude, her fingers brushing Moto’s as she stepped forward. DM maintained his smile. All that was needed was a single, firm squeeze. He watched Moto’s hand begin to close around his partner’s. Almost there.

“Gloria, I can’t believe you’re here!”

A blond haired bimbo exclaimed, bumping into Elle with enough force to break her contact with the target. The goblet of red wine gripped in the bimbo’s fist, splashed Elle full in the face causing her to sputter and stagger under the deluge.

The blonde was hot, her four alarm body encased like sausage in a skin-tight spangled red dress that almost covered her round ass. She spun about on strappy platform sandals to face a frowning Moto. The red wine splatters on his white shirt looked like blood. “Ooo, sorry hun. Did I butt in? Gloria and I went to high school together.”

Moto’s body guards moved in front of their employer putting a wall of brawn and firearms between him and DM, Elle, and the blond intruder.

What’s happening, team one? The handler’s voice drilled in DM’s ear.

“Geez, I’m such a clumsy ass. Sorry!” The woman shrugged, her blonde curls bouncing on bare shoulders. She glanced up at DM, her up-tilted amber eyes gleaming in the light. Familiar up-tilted amber eyes. The muscles in his jaw flexed.

Elle stood like a deer caught in headlights, her inexperience flying high and wide while the wine dripped down her chin soaking her clothes.

Report… Team one… copy?

Moto shouldered a guard aside and tilted his head. “I apologize for this insult,” he said to DM then turned to his arm candy and said, “Maria, querida, escort the young lady to the powder room and help her get cleaned up.”

Dammit, Morace! What the hell’s going on?

Elle balked, staring at DM who dropped a chin in agreement. Reluctantly, she followed the woman, gazing back over her shoulder until they disappeared through a door.

“Pablo, take this puta. Find out who she is and what she’s doing here. No, find out who she is with. That’s the idiot I want to speak to.”

DM gripped the woman’s arm so hard she cried out in pain. “If you’ll allow me, I’d like to handle this clumsy puta.”

Moto looked from DM to the struggling woman and chuckled. “Bueno, I’ll let you… how you say… take care of her.” He waved the guard off, turning back to the line of guests.

With a short bow to the Mexican drug lord, he gripped the blonde’s upper arm and dragged her away. It was impossible for the smaller woman to match his long stride so she stumbled after him.

“You’re hurting me,” Angel remarked, her tone disinterested.

“Good,” he snarled. What was it with this woman following him, fouling up his missions?
WetWork Ep3 WEB 06152015

 

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0153NQXQS

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

 

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

 

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

 

He needs a miracle. He needs his Angel.

 

Excerpt:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Ahren?”

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

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

“Oww… whaddidya do that for?”

“C’mon you old coot. We’re leaving.”

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

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

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

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

 

 

WetWork Episode 4 WEB 10082015

 

Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01BKNCGLQ

 

Blurb:

Dark Man is screwed. Captured by the Department hounds, he was handed over to the Medic as a sacrificial lamb—or lab rat. The brain surgery to turn him into the perfect killing machine (the emphasis on machine) has left him reeling. With his emotions disabled, DM has entered a very dark place. Scientific data claims that without the distraction of emotions, DM will be more focused, more productive—an assassin without a conscience. The problem is he won’t cooperate. He’s focused on finding one person: Angel.

 

Angel’s act first, think later attitude has gotten both her and DM’s identical twin brother, Damien, into a world of trouble. Her plan to rescue DM majorly blew up in her face. Taken captive by the Guild’s enemy—the super-secret Omicron—she has learned the true meaning of pain. Bearing both physical and mental scars, Angel joins forces with both friends and enemies to free DM.

 

From Houston to Bucharest, trouble follows DM and Angel. With attacks from every side, they must find a way to overcome their differences and come together or risk being torn apart.

 

Will DM and Angel survive? Read WetWork, Dark Man Case Files, Episode 4 for the exciting conclusion.

 

Excerpt:

“Who am I?”

 

DM’s voice was a husky whisper. It did crazy things to her insides.

 

“I’m your future,” he said with the finality of a slammed door, not giving her time to reply before fencing her in against the scarred wooden bar with between his long, hard arms and thick, muscular thighs.

 

Her pulse kicked up, making her shiver like a spooked horse as he moved into her, invading her personal space. Spooked. That was an apt description. Everything about this dangerous man spooked her. He was imposing, standing over a foot taller than her five-foot four-inches with a shredded build that complemented his superior height. Not to mention the fact he possessed looks that would make any woman between the ages of 13 and 93 swoon. Truth was, just looking up into his smoldering gray gaze made her lightheaded, made her weak in the knees, and made her more than a little wet between the thighs. Truth was, she wanted nothing more than to follow this man to his bed. When he leaned in, his chiseled lips parting as they approached hers, her eyelids drooped. She stretched up in anticipation, tilting her head back, almost breathless to taste his lips, and felt…nothing.

 

Rusted metal flakes rained down coating her skin as Angel jerked awake. She’d been dreaming of DM, David Morace, the former crown prince of the Guild. Her lover.

 

Her wrists also awoke and began to bitterly complain of their abuse—being forced to support her weight and suffer the tight bonds of the handcuffs. Her shoulders also objected, stating they had taken more than their fair share of the load. Seeking relief, Angel pulled her feet under her and put weight on her legs. A high whistling gasp of misery escaped her lips. She had forgotten about Spider and his electric carving knife.  Almost she regretted contacting DM’s identical twin brother and the new Crown Prince of the Guild. Asking Damien for help in getting DM released from the Department’s creepy version of the Island of Doctor Moreau had been beyond foolhardy. How could she possibly rescue DM when she could do nothing to save herself?

 

Cadence Denton

 

 

Author Biography:

I’m an odd mixture of one part dreamer, one part realist, and two parts stubborn—which can be a positive thing if you’re a writer. Not content to write in just one genre, I write dark paranormal romance, time travel, light science fiction, romantic comedy, and gritty romantic thrillers. Told you I was stubborn (that and a little crazy!). Besides, doing the same thing day after day can become boring and we can do with a little less boring, right?

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

 

Social Media:

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

Email: cadencedentonauthor@gmail.com

Website: http://www.cadencedenton.com

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

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

Instagram: https://instagram.com/cadence.denton/

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

Fiery #Romance Set in Sultry Spain: Andalusian Nights Series by @FieldingHannah #Books


cover-ind

 

Title: Indiscretion

Series Title: Andalusian Nights

Author: Hannah Fielding

Genre: Romance

Publisher: London Wall

 

Book Blurb:

Spring, 1950. Alexandra de Falla, a half-English, half-Spanish young writer abandons her privileged but suffocating life in London and travels to Spain to be reunited with her long-estranged family.

Instead of providing the sense of belonging she yearns for, the de Fallas are riven by seething emotions, and in the grip of the wild customs and traditions of Andalucía, all of which are alien to Alexandra.

Among the strange characters and sultry heat of this country, she meets the man who awakens emotions she hardly knew existed. But their path is strewn with obstacles: dangerous rivals, unpredictable events, and inevitable indiscretions. What does Alexandra’s destiny hold for her in this flamboyant land of drama and all-consuming passions, where blood is ritually poured on to the sands of sun-drenched bullfighting arenas, mysterious gypsies are embroiled in magic and revenge, and beautiful dark-eyed dancers hide their secrets behind elegant lacy fans?

Indiscretion is a story of love and identity, and the clash of ideals in the pursuit of happiness. But can love survive in a world where scandal and danger are never far away?

 

Excerpt:

At first, Alexandra thought she was alone in the chapel, but she soon noticed a man, a few paces away, kneeling on a prayer stool at the foot of Saint Mary of Mercy’s statue. His broad shoulders were hunched beneath a shock of jet-black hair, his face hidden in slender, suntanned hands. It was dark, so why she should think that this was the stranger she had already encountered on the seafront and why her heart was beating so hard against her ribs, she couldn’t say, but she had no doubt at all that it was the same man.

Footsteps and whispering made her turn around. A man began to speak in a nasal singsong voice that echoed strangely from the walls of the little church, disturbing the peace and tranquillity: ‘This is the Church of Santa María.  As in most of our Spanish towns, Our Lady of Mercy is its all-powerful and well-loved patron saint, a friend who protects all, be they lords or paupers.’ It was a tour guide who had appeared in the doorway, ushering his party of tourists into the church.

‘Our land is rich in legends about the Virgin Mary. The most moving is the one about the young Jewish girl who fell in love with a Christian knight. Despairing of ever attracting his attention, the beautiful maiden turned to our Virgin here, on whom everyone called. Humbly, she gave all she possessed: a pin decorated with a tiny glass bead. The miracle happened: the knight passed by at that very moment, saw her, and his heart was forever linked to hers by the pin she had given as an offering.’

The group of sightseers passed Alexandra and disappeared through a low door at the back of the church leading to the crypt. Peace returned.

All the while, the man on the prayer stool had not moved. Alexandra went up to the statue of Our Lady of Mercy to light a candle but a priest had just gone by to clear up the melted wax from the previous batch of devotees’ offerings, and she neither had matches nor a lighter handy. A faint tch of annoyance escaped her lips.

‘Permita me señorita.’

Alexandra had scarcely time to register the quiet words spoken unexpectedly, close to her ear, before the stranger’s brown hand had flicked a gold lighter in front of her, bringing to life a tiny blue flame and at the same time brushing against her arm.

The spark that went through her at the Spaniard’s touch made Alexandra shudder and, emitting a slight gasp, she instinctively drew back in the first instance. But then, as she realized he was only trying to be helpful, she raised her face, smiling as readily and uninhibitedly as she always did.

‘Gracias, muchas gracias.’

There was utter silence in the church. The man did not smile but merely inclined his head, leaving Alexandra, as he had earlier on, with the impression that inbred courtesy had prompted him to lend his assistance, rather than the more usual reasons men found for helping her. Still, her green gaze met his. She was struck by the expression of sadness reflected in his arresting grey irises and the sternness of his hard, regular features.

An almost visible current leapt between them. For a split second, the determined line of his jaw stiffened, his well-defined lips parted and she thought he might speak. Her heart missed a beat…

 

Buy Links:

Amazon US https://www.amazon.com/Indiscretion-Hannah-Fielding/dp/0992671884/

Amazon UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/Indiscretion-romantic-secrets-passion-Andalucian/dp/0992671884

 

Portrait of Hannah Fielding and photos of where she writes.
Portrait of Hannah Fielding and photos of where she writes.

 

Author Biography:

Hannah Fielding is an incurable romantic. The seeds for her writing career were sown in early childhood, spent in Egypt, when she came to an agreement with her governess Zula: for each fairy story Zula told, Hannah would invent and relate one of her own. Years later – following a degree in French literature, several years of travelling in Europe, falling in love with an Englishman, the arrival of two beautiful children and a career in property development – Hannah decided after so many years of yearning to write that the time was now. Today, she lives the dream: writing full time at her homes in Kent, England, and the South of France, where she dreams up romances overlooking breath-taking views of the Mediterranean.

Hannah is a multi-award-winning novelist, and to date she has published five novels: Burning Embers, ‘romance like Hollywood used to make’, set in Kenya; The Echoes of Love, ‘an epic love story that is beautifully told’ set in Italy; and the Andalusian Nights Trilogy – Indiscretion, Masquerade and Legacy – her fieriest novels yet, set in sunny, sultry Spain.

 

Social Media Links:

Website: www.hannahfielding.net
Twitter: https://twitter.com/fieldinghannah
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Hannah-Fielding-Author-Page-340558735991910/
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5333898.Hannah_Fielding

 

cover-masq

 

Title: Masquerade

Series Title: Andalusian Nights

Author: Hannah Fielding

Genre: Romance

Publisher: London Wall

 

Book Blurb:

Summer, 1976. Luz de Rueda returns to her beloved Spain and takes a job as the biographer of a famous artist. On her first day back in Cádiz, she encounters a bewitching, passionate young gypsy, Leandro, who immediately captures her heart, even though relationships with his kind are taboo. Haunted by this forbidden love, she meets her new employer, the sophisticated Andrés de Calderón. Reserved yet darkly compelling, he is totally different to Leandro but almost the gypsy’s double. Both men stir unfamiliar and exciting feelings in Luz, although mystery and danger surround them in ways she has still to discover.

Luz must decide what she truly desires as glistening Cádiz, with its enigmatic moon and whispering turquoise shores, seeps back into her blood. Why is she so drawn to the wild and magical sea gypsies? What is behind the old fortune-teller’s sinister warnings about ‘Gemini’? Through this maze of secrets and lies, will Luz finally find her happiness… or her ruin?

Masquerade is a story of forbidden love, truth and trust. Are appearances always deceptive?

 

Excerpt:

Luz set eyes on him for the first time from her seat on Zeyna’s back as the fine white Arab mare stepped down the narrow path from the cliff that led to the beach. He was sitting on the edge of the track, leaning nonchalantly against a wild carob tree,watching her while chewing on a sprig of heather. As she drew nearer, she met his steady gaze, spirited and wild. At that moment she had no idea this man would have the power to change her world and create such havoc in her heart, that she would emerge from the experience a different person. Fate had not yet lit up the winding pathway of her life nor the echoes of history along it, but now, in front of this stranger, a disturbing awareness leapt into flame deep inside her and began to flicker intensely. Without thinking, she tugged on Zeyna’s reins to slow the mare down.

For a moment they stared at each other. He was clearly a gitano, one of those people that Luz’s family had always warned her to steer clear of. The frayed, cut-down denims sat low on his hips, revealing deeply tanned, muscular long legs, and his feet were bare as though he had just walked straight from the beach. Unruly chestnut hair, bleached golden in parts by the sun, tumbled to his shoulders; his smooth copper skin glowed more than that of any gypsy she had ever seen. As she allowed her gaze to flick back to his face, Luz caught the flash of amused, provocative arrogance in those bright, burning eyes, mixed with something deeper that she didn’t understand. She swallowed. The overwhelming masculinity of the gitano unsettled her. Luz lifted her chin resolutely, but felt the pull of his magnetism reaching out and gripping her, beguiling and dangerous, so that instinctively she nudged her mount and they broke into a smooth canter. The thumping of her heart sounded loud in her ears. She could sense his eyes on her, as a palpable touch, even as she rode away, trembling, and the feeling remained with her until she knew she was out of sight.

 

Buy Links:

Amazon US https://www.amazon.com/Masquerade-Andalucian-Nights-Trilogy-Fielding/dp/0992994365/

Amazon UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/Masquerade-mystery-scorching-Andalucian-Andalucían/dp/0992994365/

 

Legacy cover

 

Title: Legacy

Series Title: Andalusian Nights

Author: Hannah Fielding

Genre: Romance

Publisher: London Wall

 

Book Blurb:

Spring, 2010. When Luna Ward, a science journalist from New York, travels halfway across the world to work undercover at an alternative health clinic in Cadiz, her ordered life is thrown into turmoil.

The doctor she is to investigate, the controversial Rodrigo Rueda de Calderon, is not what she expected. With his wild gypsy looks and devilish sense of humour, he is intent upon drawing her to him. But how can she surrender to a passion that threatens all reason; and how could he ever learn to trust her when he discovers her true identity? Then Luna finds that Ruy is carrying a corrosive secret of his own…

Luna’s native Spanish blood begins to fire in this land of exotic legends, flamboyant gypsies and seductive flamenco guitars, as dazzling Cadiz weaves its own magic on her heart. Can Luna and Ruy’s love survive their families’ legacy of feuding and tragedy, and rise like the phoenix from the ashes of the past?

Legacy is a story of truth, dreams and desire. But in a world of secrets you need to be careful what you wish for…

 

Excerpt:

From her vantage point, Luna had a full view of her gypsy and she could survey him without it being too obvious. His hair was black, thick and shining, swept back from a broad forehead. The hair was rather long, she noted, but perhaps not that long for a gitano. A few tendrils fell across his brow from time to time as he moved his head to the music. His chiselled features were strong, with high cheekbones and an aquiline nose that seemed more aristocratic than gypsy, though this was belied by the crackling  aura of raw danger that seemed to emanate from him.

His mouth was wide and inviting, with smooth, slightly bowed lips that prompted illicit thoughts in Luna, thoughts that raced uninvited through her head and made her shiver despite the warmth of the night. Now she could see that the eyes that had met hers with such intensity were blue, a deep, unfathomable blue, like the skies and the seas of his country. Luna wondered at his age: mid-thirties, maybe a little younger.

As the dancer finished her set and retreated, the gypsy stood up, came forward and murmured an announcement of the next song, making a fresh thrill ripple up Luna’s spine at the husky, masculine sound of his voice. He started the rhythmic clapping of a toca de mano, and the waiter went round refilling glasses while the audience joined in, working up to a crescendo of hand-claps until the whole tavern shook with cries of ‘olé’ and ‘anda’.

The gypsy was much taller than Luna had guessed – over six feet, with a perfectly proportioned, lithe body. Wide shoulders and a broad chest, narrow hips and muscled thighs clad in a pair of jeans that hugged his form so well it left little to the imagination. She was aware of his intense magnetism, which was just as powerful as his steely physique. At this distance, she could detect the dark, curling hair lightly covering his chest just visible at the neck of the faded T-shirt he wore with surprising panache. The muscles of his arms flexed as this time he picked up a guitar and strummed a rapid cascade of chords. He gazed down into her eyes. The dazzling white smile he gave her almost stopped her heart and she lowered her head to hide her confusion.

As the rhythmic clapping subsided, he began to sing. His voice was rich and mellow, warm with vibrant tones and tingling with emotion, beguiling and beckoning like a filtre d’amour that scrambled her thoughts and stirred primitive and alarming desires within her. The music was plaintive and feverish, and as Luna watched his long fingers alternately strum and flick across the strings of his guitar, first lightly and then harder at lightning speed, she found herself wondering how those hands would feel on her skin. His songs were in Caló so she could not understand the words, but she could sense the intensity of feeling that went into the full, vigorous notes and although he sang to the audience, she knew from the sensuous intimacy in his eyes that he was singing for her alone.

Luna sat breathless, her gaze fixed on his expressive face. Luna sat breathless, her gaze fixed on his expressive face, stirred to the depths of her soul.

 

 

Buy Links:

Amazon US https://www.amazon.com/Legacy-Intrigue-Redemption-Scorching-Andalucian/dp/0993291732/

Amazon UK https://www.amazon.co.uk/Legacy-Intrigue-Redemption-Scorching-Andalucian/dp/0993291732/

 

She Was Once His Sweet Salvation… On a Knife’s Edge by @AuthorLyndaB #POTLReads #RomanticSuspense


on-a-knifes-edge_800px

 

Title: ON A KNIFE’S EDGE

Author: LYNDA BAILEY

Genre: Romantic Suspense

 

Book Blurb: 

She was once his sweet salvation…

 

Lynch Callan has been a dead man walking most of his life—nothing out of the ordinary for a member of the 5th Street biker gang. There was a brief period, though, when she made him believe he could be more. That he could be worthy of her, and her love. To protect her, and keep their relationship from being discovered, he went to prison. Except now the Streeters are in danger. But in order to save his crew, he must first betray them. If caught, he’ll end up dead for sure. It’ll be the mother of all balancing acts—especially with her in the picture. But Lynch will do whatever is necessary to protect the people he loves.

 

He was once her deepest desire…

 

Shasta Albright doesn’t break the rules. Not anymore. As an unruly teenager, she defied her family at every turn…even secretly befriending, then dating, then falling in love with a bad boy Streeter. Finally her recklessness caught up with her—with lasting and even dire consequences. Now she leads a pristine existence, always staying within the lines and keeping her secrets hidden. That is until he gets released from prison. Can Shasta hold her perfect world together, or will everything get hurled into chaos?

 

With young girls going missing, the sleepy town of Stardust, Nevada becomes an unlikely epicenter for an illicit slave trade—with Shasta and Lynch caught in the middle. Amidst the rising body count, they fight to keep their loved ones—and each other—safe. A single slipup could have deadly repercussions. It’s an untenable and treacherous position. Much like walking On a Knife’s Edge…

 

Excerpt:

A loud thump from the bedrooms jolted Shasta’s heart. She hastened to her feet. Adjusting her sweaty hold on Newman’s gun, she tiptoed toward the unlit hallway. Slow, steady footsteps approached.

 

“Agent Newman?”

 

No answer. But the footfalls grew nearer.

 

She retreated as an indistinguishable figure gradually walked forward. She knew it was a man, but she also realized it wasn’t Agent Newman. This man was taller and not as broad in the shoulders.

 

The first thing she saw were his shoes. Even in the weak illumination, she could tell they were expensive, with a polished shine. Next came slacks with crisp, tight creases. Newman wore a disheveled suit.

 

“Agent…Newman?” She hated that her voice quaked.

 

“No…not Agent Newman.”

 

Shasta recoiled at the familiar baritone voice.

 

Buy Links:

 

Amazon

https://www.amazon.com/Knifes-Edge-Lynda-Bailey-ebook/dp/B01GALSKHM

 

B&N

http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/books/1124065619;jsessionid=164B0CF593640F94E223D098BFC53460.prodny_store01-atgap05?ean=2940153177632

 

Kobo

https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/on-a-knife-s-edge

 

Giveaway:

Leave a comment for the chance to win your choice of any of these eBooks by Lynda Bailey:

BATTLE-BORN LOVE

BATTLE-TESTED LOVE

EROTIC ESCAPADES OF A MARRIED COUPLE

NAUGHTY NEIGHBORHOOD

ON THE CORNER OF HEARTACHE AND HOPEFUL – MIC

ON THE CORNER OF HEARTACHE AND HOPEFUL – KIRA

ON THE CORNER OF HEARTACHE AND HOPEFUL – GRACE

SHATTERED TRUST

WILDFLOWER

 

lynda-bailey-bio-pic

 

About Lynda:

I have no doubt I was born a storyteller.

 

I remember telling my first “story” in kindergarten. I informed my teacher, Mrs. Downing, that my mom had just had a baby boy. She hadn’t, of course, and while I got thoroughly admonished for my “storytelling,” I wasn’t deterred from what would become a lifelong passion.

 

From making up tales as a kid which centered around my favorite TV shows to today, I love telling stories! Stories with handsome guys and spunky gals, that always…always end with a happily-ever-after.

 

My romances are full of passion, with heat levels that range from hot to sizzling! I’ve been a finalist in numerous writing contests, including RWA’s® prestigious Golden Heart® in 2010. Please join me for laughter, love and that all important HEA.

 

 

Stalker Links:

Website: https://www.lyndabailey.net

Blog: http://www.lyndabailey.net/category/blog/

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

Twitter: https://twitter.com/authorlyndab

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

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6472849.Lynda_Bailey

Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Lynda-Bailey/e/B007UQHW9E/

 

potl-reads-2

We’re celebrating books and authors all October on the POTL Blog. Follow #POTLReads on Twitter to not miss our recommendations and to offer your own! Spread the Word!