tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-19189486679709990962024-03-13T01:13:07.259-05:00Concupiscent BibliophileSmart talk about smut.awhit333http://www.blogger.com/profile/01542601928235649986noreply@blogger.comBlogger2618125truetag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1918948667970999096.post-14507440608445259502017-01-05T05:30:00.000-06:002017-01-05T05:30:03.897-06:00Paladine by Kenneth Eade- Promo Tour<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>PALADINE</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">by Kenneth Eade</span></div>
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Genre: Thriller<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><b>2016 quarter-finalist in Publisher's Weekly's Book Prize in Fiction</b></span></td></tr>
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<b>Meet terrorism's worst enemy</b><br />
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From the best-selling & award winning author critics hail as "one of the strongest thriller writers on our scene" comes an unforgettable story of an unlikely "anti-hero."<br />
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Robert Garcia was an unremarkable man, tapped out of a promising military career to become a death squad assassin for the CIA. Retirement was not in the cards for Robert, so he disappeared instead. After he comes out of the cold to answer the call to aid a fellow soldier facing a bum rap, he is thrust back into the spotlight when he is in the wrong place at the wrong time and kills a terrorist, thereby saving dozens of lives. He finds gainful employment in the slaughter of jihadists, which sparks an urban social media legend that Robert, a dangerous and unfeeling assassin, is a living paladin, whose mission is to rid the earth of evil for the betterment of mankind. Social media gives him the name: "Paladine" and God help whoever gets between him and his next target.
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The apartment obviously belonged to a bachelor, but it was neat and orderly, like a military man’s freshly made bed. The cushions on the couch were soft and comfortable and the Colonial style furniture practical and functional, rustic but not antique. The décor was earth tone and neutral, and the walls were peppered with tasteful framed prints, replicas of art that said nothing about the occupant. They were just hanging there so the walls would not be bare. There were no framed family photos on the tables, no stacks of well-worn books and no magazines. It was almost as if nobody lived there.<br />
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Robert Garcia was an unremarkable man. Other men, the exceptional types, could never be forgotten. Men of striking, imposing persuasion, or those with a certain superior intellect or cleverness. Robert held none of those attributes but, if you had the misfortune to have him touch your life in any way, and were fortuitous enough to live after the experience, he would be indelibly etched in your memory.<br />
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Robert’s characteristics were fine-drawn, precise. He could drift in on the night air with only a whisper of the wind, and then disappear into the shadows, the only place where he ever felt secure and content. At five-foot-eleven, dark-haired with a touch of grey around the edges, he was a chameleon that blended in with most crowds. But under the ordinary clothing he wore he had the body of a herculean powerhouse, chiseled and ripped. Née John Richards, Jr. to an American military career man who had taken a Lebanese wife, since Robert had been old enough to walk, he had marched in the footsteps of his father. When his country came calling, John Richards, Jr. proudly answered that call and served with pride as his father’s son, the nephew of his Great Uncle Sam. There was never any question of it. Working up the ranks the hard way, he made Captain, and it wasn’t long before his special traits and abilities landed him his first secret assignment, along with his first alias – Malik Abdul.<br />
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Malik was a name that had fit Robert well. He never did look or behave like a John Richards. That was a name his Anglo Father, John Richards, Sr., had insisted on giving the child and his mother dutifully went along with it. Eventually, it was adept profiling that helped Malik recognize his destiny. His swarthy skin and his second language – Arabic – made Malik a valuable asset to his country. Beyond his language prowess and physical attributes, Malik possessed a unique set of special skills, forged by intensive training and honed to perfection with experience. Malik and his band of assassins were utilized only in the most extreme of circumstances – covert operations for well-known agencies who called themselves by three letter acronyms – and the unknown ones as well.<br />
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Malik had tried to retire, tried his hand at transforming his life into the “normal” one of Robert Garcia, and had dutifully taken the number 4 train Monday through Friday, from his little brownstone in El Barrio to Two Penn Plaza, where he worked as a janitor. But Malik’s past had beckoned. It was a call he could not resist. He had come out into the open to support a fellow soldier who had been given a bum rap. About the only thing Malik had left which resembled a conscience was the soldier’s creed. He had no morals, no principles, except for those, which were burned into his hardwiring like a brand on a cow: The mission comes first; never accept defeat; never quit; and never leave a fallen comrade.<br />
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The comrade was Captain Ryan Bennington, an officer serving in the war against the insurgency in Iraq who had been sent on a mission by his superiors with instructions to breech four houses in an Iraqi village that intelligence had confirmed were being run by Al-Qaeda terrorists and kill any one of them who did not actively surrender. It was a mission the likes of which Malik – Robert – knew well, as he had been on many of them, committing unspeakable acts in the name of the War on Terror during the insurgency. Now the accused officer was being court-martialed and could face life in prison for simply doing his duty.<br />
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Robert had come back from the court-martial trial on the coast a ball of nerves, constantly looking over his shoulder. Now that the record had been set straight, Robert’s life was in a state of distress and disquietude. He couldn’t resume his job as a custodian. They could be watching for him there. He couldn’t return to the woman he had been seeing regularly, and who had given him hope that he actually could rejoin society after all that he had seen and done, and he couldn’t go back to the little apartment in the quaint brownstone on 118th Street, between 2nd and 3rd Avenues in Spanish Harlem that he had called home for the past five years. Well, he had to come back here – for only one last time, he thought, as he shut the door behind him.<br />
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Now that Robert had exposed himself and his new identity to set the record straight it was, once again, time to slip back into the shadows. Without a glimpse of emotion, he had left everything behind in the top floor of that little brownstone that had been collected by Robert Garcia over the years –the furniture, the clothing, the little knick-knacks reminiscent of the life he had simulated. He also left something in the apartment that had never been there before, a product of his life’s work – something that he had not produced for the past five years – the body of a dead man, five-foot eleven, olive-skinned and dark-haired. He took one last look at the life of Robert Garcia as he threw the match on the floor and then slipped away.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://amzn.to/2g4vqpJ" target="_blank">Amazon</a> ✯ <a href="http://mybook.to/Paladine" target="_blank">Amazon Int'l</a></span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;">✯</span><span style="font-size: large;"> <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/paladine-kenneth-eade/1124637703?ean=9781537554044" target="_blank">B&N</a></span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;">✯</span><span style="font-size: large;"> <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/31674475-paladine-a-terrorism-and-assassination-thriller" target="_blank">Goodreads</a></span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;">✯</span><span style="font-size: large;"> <a href="http://www.audible.com/pd/Mysteries-Thrillers/Paladine-Audiobook/B01N0SO19K" target="_blank">Audible</a></span><br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Even killers need a vacation</span></b></div>
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Paladine, terrorism's worst enemy, is back in this sequel to the hit thriller.<br />
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From the best-selling & award winning author critics hail as "one of the strongest thriller writers on our scene" comes the continuation of the unforgettable story of an unlikely "anti-hero," Robert Garcia, a dangerous and unfeeling assassin of jihadist terrorists, has been exalted by social media as "Paladine", a living paladin whose mission is to rid the earth of evil for the betterment of mankind. In this installment of the series, Paladine crosses paths with a Russian assassin, which puts him in the middle of the controversial new cold war between the United States and Russia.<br />
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<b>Sequel to the bestseller, "Paladine"</b></div>
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#1 Superhero Thriller best seller & #1 hot new release</div>
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#2 Pulp Thriller best seller #1 hot new release</div>
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#2 Terrorism Thriller best seller & #1 hot new release<br />
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<b>Discover what critics are saying about this new terrorism thriller series:</b><br />
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"Robert Garcia is a vigilante known as Paladine, and in this well-written and fast-paced thriller, the author demonstrates skill not only with plot, but with character -- and character is what makes this book stand out. An ill-fated love story and an irresistible dog only deepen what could be just another hit-man-killing-jihadists story." <b>--Publisher's Weekly, Booklife Prize in Fiction</b><br />
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"A satisfyingly original, compelling piece that moves well beyond genre writing and into the realm of military precision, insight, and adventure, linking action into modern-day pursuits and concerns with the precision of a surgeon. Paladine is very highly recommended reading for anyone looking for a protagonist and purpose that goes the extra mile, and then keeps on running." <b>Midwest Book Review</b><br />
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"Kenneth Eade is one of our strongest thriller writers on the scene and the fact that he draws his stories from the contemporary philosophical landscape is very much to his credit. Another top-flight novel from the master of intrigue – one of his best series yet."<b>Grady Harp, Amazon Hall of Fame, Top 100 & Vine Voice</b><br />
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Described by critics as "one of our strongest thriller writers on the scene," author Kenneth Eade, best known for his legal and political thrillers, practiced law for 30 years before publishing his first novel, "An Involuntary Spy." Eade, an up-and-coming author in the legal thriller and courtroom drama genre, has been described by critics as "One of our strongest thriller writers on the scene and the fact that he draws his stories from the contemporary philosophical landscape is very much to his credit." He is the author of the "Brent Marks Legal Thriller Series", the fifth installment of which, Killer.com, won best legal thriller in the 2015 Beverly Hills Book Awards, and the "Involuntary Spy Espionage Series".<br />
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Said Eade of the comparisons, "Readers compare me in style to John Grisham and, there are some similarities, because John also likes to craft a story around real topics and we are both lawyers. However, all of my novels are rooted in reality, not fantasy. I use fictional characters and situations to express factual and conceptual issues. Some use the term 'faction' to describe this style, and it is present in all my fictional works."<br />
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Eade has written twelve novels, which are now in the process of being translated into six languages. He is known to keep in touch with his readers, and offers a free Kindle book to all those who sign up at his <a href="http://www.kennetheade.com/" target="_blank">website</a>.<br />
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<a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7246057.Kenneth_Eade" target="_blank">Goodreads</a> ✯ <a href="https://twitter.com/KennethEade1" target="_blank">Twitter</a> ✯ <a href="https://www.facebook.com/KennethGEadeBestsellingauthor" target="_blank">Facebook</a> ✯ <a href="http://amzn.to/2g8vhNw" target="_blank">Amazon</a> ✯ <a href="http://legalthrillernovels.com/" target="_blank">Blog #1</a> ✯ <a href="https://kennetheade.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Blog #2</a><br />
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awhit333http://www.blogger.com/profile/01542601928235649986noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1918948667970999096.post-23471043547398855012017-01-04T05:30:00.000-06:002017-01-04T05:30:28.395-06:00The Bikers Brother (Sons of Sanctuary MC Series) by Victoria Danann<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>THE BIKER'S BROTHER</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;">Sons of Sanctuary MC series, book 2</span>
<span style="font-size: large;">by Victoria Danann</span></div>
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<b>Genre:</b> contemporary romance<br />
*Please note this books contains dark material that may be unwelcome by sensitive readers*<br />
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Brand takes a job nobody wants to earn the respect of club members. Being third generation SSMC doesn't go very far in biker cred.<br />
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Camden Carmichael is running from a psycho ex. Lucky for her that her father has the means to hire Sanctuary Security to protect her until the divorce is finalized.<br />
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Two strangers set out on a road trip together. At the end of it, neither will ever be the same again.<br />
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“Off the interstates. Isn’t that going to take a really long time?”<br />
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“It’s not a race. It’s the hide part of hide and seek.”<br />
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She stared at his profile. “What exactly is the plan?”<br />
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“I’m taking you to our safe house in Austin. It’ll be home until the judge has signed off on your proceeding. My job is to make sure you get there alive.”<br />
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“Okay.”<br />
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He turned on the radio and found a classic rock station.<br />
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“Just kill me now,” she mumbled.<br />
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“What was that?”<br />
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She looked straight at him.<br />
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“The radio.” She pretended to have to scream over the music. “You’re not going to make me listen to that. Are you?”<br />
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He cocked his head as he stared at the road ahead.<br />
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“I’m nothing if not fair. What kind of music do you like?”<br />
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“Well, for starters, I like music that was recorded this century.”<br />
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He took his eyes off the road just long enough to be sure she caught the glare he gave her.<br />
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“You want to do a passive aggressive dance around what you want? Or do you want to just tell me straight up?”<br />
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She pressed her lips together, narrowed her eyes, and decided she’d underestimated Brandon. She didn’t think thugs had descriptions like ‘passive aggressive’ easily tripping off their tongues.<br />
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“Country,” she said decidedly.<br />
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He gaped. “That is utterly impossible. A girl like you does not listen to country music.”<br />
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She looked indignant.<br />
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“I certainly do. And what do you mean ‘a girl like me’?”<br />
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He narrowed his eyes and glanced at her.<br />
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“Okay. If you really listen to country music then tell me one thing about Garth Brooks that only somebody who was a fan would know.”<br />
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Without hesitating she said, “He actually wanted to be a rock star, but when he opened his mouth to sing, country came out instead of rock. So he gave into it and owned it. Although he did steal the big showmanship from rock stars. Lasers. Fire. Dancing bears.”<br />
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Brandon raised his eyebrows. “He has dancing bears?”<br />
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She laughed and shook her head. “No.”<br />
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Brandon had no idea if that was true, but because she said it with so much authority, and because it wasn’t the kind of thing a person would be likely to make up on the fly, he believed her.<br />
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“Alright. We’ll take turns.”<br />
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“Good. Me first.”<br />
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He nodded just slightly. “Find your station.”<br />
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She seemed to perk up at the small victory.<br />
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“How do you get satellite?”<br />
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Brandon smirked. “Seriously? How sheltered are you?” She frowned at the question and said nothing, since she had no idea how to answer. “This car is too old for satellite. You got radio. That’s it. Make do.”<br />
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She set to work turning the dial. He even got a little smile after she settled on a station. After all that work, before the first song was over, she was slumped against the passenger door, sound asleep.<br />
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He looked over at her sleeping form and shook his head. He could have changed the station but thought it might wake her and, for some reason, he didn’t want to disturb her. So he was stuck with listening to twang and fiddle for what turned out to be hours. By the time she woke, he was beginning to tap his fingers on the steering wheel and was thinking country might not be all that bad.<br />
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<b>Two brothers, unknown to each other, are on a crash trajectory with destiny and two broken hearts.</b><br />
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<i>New York Times and USA Today BESTSELLING AUTHOR, Victoria Danann, dishes up the sizzle with a new biker romance series.</i><br />
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<b>"A hot, sweet romance that will make you laugh and sigh."</b> - Cafeworld<br />
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Brigid was a graduate student at the University of Texas. It wasn't hard getting her thesis approved, but finding a Hill Country motorcycle club willing to give her access to their lifestyle was starting to look impossible. Then she got a lead. A friend of a friend had a cousin with family ties to The Sons of Sanctuary. Perfect. Or so she thought.<br />
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What she wanted was information to prove a scholarly proposition. The last thing she had in mind was falling for one of the members of the club. Especially since she was a feminist academic out to prove that motorcycle clubs are organized according to the same structure as primitive tribal society.<br />
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Brash was standing in line at the H.E.B. Market when his world tipped on its axis. While waiting his turn to check out, his gaze had wandered to the magazine display and settled on the new issue of "NOW". The image on the cover, although GQ'd up in an insanely urbane way, was... him.<br />
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After reading the article, he threw some stuff in a duffle and left his only home, a room at The Sons of Sanctuary clubhouse, with a vague explanation about needing a couple of days away. He left his truck at the Austin airport and caught a plane for New York, on a mission to find a mysterious guy walking around with his face.<br />
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INCLUDES BONUS NOVELLA: <i>Intro to the Sons of Sanctuary MC, A Season in Gemini</i><br />
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<b>"She couldn't live in my world. I couldn't live in hers."</b> - Brant Fornight<br />
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<i>Get your copy TODAY and find out why readers call Two Princes</i> <b>awesome sexy, fantabulous, and sentimental in the juiciest way!</b><br />
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New York Times bestselling author of thirteen romances. Victoria's Knights of Black Swan series won BEST PARANORMAL ROMANCE SERIES for the past THREE YEARS IN A ROW. Reviewers Choice Awards, The Paranormal Romance Guild.<br />
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Her paranormal romances come with uniquely fresh perspectives on "imaginary" creatures, characters, and themes. She adds a dash of scifi, a flourish of fantasy, enough humor to make you laugh out loud, and, occasionally, enough steam to make you squirm in your chair. Her heroines are independent femmes with flaws and minds of their own whether they are aliens, witches, demonologists, werewolves, hybrids, psychics, or past life therapists. Her heroes are hot and hunky, but they also have brains, character, and good manners... usually.<br />
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The rich characterizations come from being a lifelong student of behavior, casually, and a serious student of behavior academically. She also studied comparative religion, myths, and Dark Ages history.<br />
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Victoria lives in The Woodlands, Texas with her husband and a very smart, mostly black German Shepherd dog.<br />
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<a href="http://www.victoriadanann.com/" target="_blank">Website</a> ✯ <a href="http://www.twitter.com/vdanann" target="_blank">Twitter</a> ✯ <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5822912.Victoria_Danann" target="_blank">Goodreads</a> ✯ <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Victoria-Danann/e/B007VCOJES" target="_blank">Amazon</a> ✯ <a href="http://www.facebook.com/authorvictoriadanann" target="_blank">Facebook</a> ✯ <a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/772083312865721/" target="_blank">Street Team</a> ✯ <a href="http://victoriadanann.us5.list-manage.com/subscribe?u=6cb2798a919a34babde63b75c&id=770fe2082f" target="_blank">Newsletter</a> ✯ <a href="http://www.pinterest.com/vdanann" target="_blank">Pinterest</a></div>
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awhit333http://www.blogger.com/profile/01542601928235649986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1918948667970999096.post-66663663834765805052017-01-03T05:30:00.000-06:002017-01-03T05:30:06.822-06:00Beyond the Eyes Trilogy by Rebekkah Ford- Promo Tour<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>BEYOND THE EYES TRILOGY</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;">by Rebekkah Ford</span></div>
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<b>Genre:</b> YA Paranormal Fantasy<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Beyond the Eyes Trilogy was selected as one of the best Kindle Books of 2015!</span></b><br />
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<b>"I couldn't put this down."</b></div>
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<b>"Must read!!!"</b></div>
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<b>"Loved this book!"</b></div>
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<b>"Awesome read."</b></div>
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<b>"Gripping."</b></div>
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Paige knows evil exists in this world, but she never imagined it would want something from her.<br />
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In the small town of Astoria, Oregon, surrounded by deep forest and endless mountains, another world thrives . . . a menacing one where dark spirits dwell in soulless humans. Seventeen-year-old Paige Reed lives in this lush, picturesque setting. She's not your average teen, though she appears to be. Not only is she heartsick, but she's been receiving cryptic premonitions from a ghostly voice since the age of four. After she hears a haunting message about herself, supernatural occurrences begin to confuse her.<br />
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Nathan Caswell seems to peer into Paige's soul, evoking a magnetic energy between them they cannot deny. They're connected. But he's no ordinary guy. He tracks dark spirits and becomes alarmed when they set their sights on Paige.<br />
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When two power-hungry malevolent beings make demands on her, she realizes then the fate of mankind rest in her hands. Her world quickly turns inside out where the impossible becomes possible, and in the end she's faced with a life changing decision that will not only alter her existence but the world as she knows it.<br />
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Can a deeply troubled teen overcome her own demons in order to fight those lurking about? With the past and present colliding, Paige must make the ultimate mortal choice. Will it be the right one?<br />
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As we made our way through the crowd of moving bodies, my ears started to ring again. Okay, this was seriously getting on my last nerve, but then I reminded myself I was here to have fun and began swaying my hips when we reached Matt. My body automatically moved inside a bubble of energetic sound waves–free and unencumbered. I was no longer the freak with a mother who showed up when she wanted to and a father who had died when I was four. None of that stuff mattered, because in that moment I was one with the music and the pulsing lights. And as each song changed into pure techno melodies, I became more entranced, closing my eyes, swaying my body to the beat of the music, entering my own world.<br />
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Then something strange happened. The people around me were now far below me, and I was tethered to a silver cord attached to my dancing body. I wasn’t scared though, and found myself enjoying this sense of release. I had no worries. Even when I thought about the premonition, the fear I’d felt toward it earlier didn’t touch me. Probably since I knew I wasn’t dead. I mean, hey, the silver cord remained attached to my body, so I was good, right?<br />
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As I took in my surroundings, a guy wearing a long black coat caught my attention. He was on the high platform overlooking the floor with his hands gripping the black railing. His hood concealed his face, but he appeared to be watching the people down below.<br />
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My eyes swept over the crowd and rested on Matt standing there staring intently on my swaying body. He took a step closer and leaned forward.<br />
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Was he sniffing me?<br />
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He looked up, searching for something.<br />
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At that exact moment, the hooded guy jumped off the platform, over the black railing, and ran to the dance floor. And then Matt’s eyes locked onto mine. They were pale and glowing.<br />
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I shuddered.<br />
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The silvery cord rippled, and then yanked me toward my body, as if I was a balloon being pulled down by an eager child’s grasp. Everything rushed before me: the tables, the crowd of moving heads, and my own head, moving in a figure eight along with my body. I closed my eyes and collided into a hard, confining surface, and that was the last thing I could remember.<br />
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<b>"Wow. I loved every page."</b></div>
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Now immortal, Paige is emotionally and physically stronger than ever. She must find the location of the ancient incantations to prevent mass genocide. But the war against good and evil is spawning another war-a battle between the dark spirits themselves. Paige is saddled in the center of both growing revolutions and is ready to take on the dark forces. But Nathan's overprotectiveness prevents her from taking action, and he's hiding things.<br />
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Paige's personal life gets more complicated when Brayden arrives back in town and offers the equal partnership she desperately craves from Nathan. Then there's Carrie and Tree, her two best friends and only family she has left. Unfortunate circumstances thrust them into Paige's dark world, giving her no choice but to allow Nathan to arm them with combat techniques in hope they'll be able to protect themselves.<br />
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Meanwhile, Paige is having visions and discovering abilities she was unaware of. When Anwar comes to visit, his weird behavior alarms her. Could he be turning to the dark side?<br />
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Time is running out. Paige not only needs to find the incantations but also to untangle the bands around her heart and make a decision that could leave her with a life worse than death-a life of betrayal from the ones she trusted most.<br />
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Our ears continued to ring, but still nothing out of the ordinary caught my eyes. When we reached the parking lot, there were people filing into their vehicles and exiting the premises. I wondered if one of them could be a dark spirit. I was just about to get inside the pickup when a soft crying noise tore at my heart. It sounded heartbroken and lost. I followed the sound while Nathan stuck our bags in the backseat. I moved to the front of the pickup and there sitting on the curb was the most angelic-looking little girl I’d ever seen. She had to be about five years old, and I wondered where her mommy was. My heart immediately went out to her. She was crying in her tiny hands, leaning forward on her knees, her blonde curls tumbling over her face. She scooted her elbows above her knees while she continued to cry, pushing her blue dress up, revealing black patent leather shoes and white laced socks.<br />
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“What’s wrong, sweetie? Did you lose your mommy?” I asked, kneeling in front of her.<br />
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“Paige, no!” Nathan hollered at the same time she dropped her hands and grabbed my wrist, yanking me toward her. She was amazingly strong, completely throwing me off guard.<br />
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She slowly rolled her head around her neck, her baby face contorting into a ghastly mask, her mouth opening and closing like a fish. Then her dark glowing eyes poured into mine. I was too stunned to do anything but stare, even though her grip felt like a tourniquet around my wrist.<br />
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“Let. Her. Go,” Nathan demanded, now by my side.<br />
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The girl jerked her head up, her glowing orbs on Nathan now. “You have no power over me,” a man’s deep voice spewed forth from her pink, pouty lips, chilling me to the bone.<br />
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“No?” Nathan said, bending so his eyes were leveled with hers. “But I can break her neck which will take you out of the equation.”<br />
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“You can’t do that, Nathan,” I gasped. “She’s a child!”<br />
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“She’s soulless, Paige,” he said, keeping his eyes trained on her. “I’m going to tell you one more time. Let. Her. Go.”<br />
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Nathan wasn’t playing around. He was serious, and his ears were red, signaling the rage boiling inside him. The dark spirit must have realized it because he released me. I stumbled sideways, falling into Nathan’s quick arms. The sheer force of it knocked us to a sitting position on the asphalt.<br />
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The little girl hopped to her feet and moved her head clockwise in little jerks, her mouth opened in a silent scream. She stepped forward and stopped in front of us. Her eyes rolled to the back of her head, then focused on me, dark and glowing. She grimaced and blinked, her eyes now blue. “Help me,” she said in a sweet toddler voice.<br />
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I reached for her, but Nathan snatched my wrist, locking his arms around mine. The girl scowled. She closed her eyes, and when she opened them, they were dark and glowing again. I sucked in a sharp intake of breath, and her mouth formed a circle. Her head fell back in deep laughter. It was dark, sinister, and male.<br />
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She stopped, glared at me, and pointed. “Vos ero pessum ire,” she said in the same deep man’s voice as before. Then she turned and ran away.<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://amzn.to/2hTzPvK" target="_blank">Amazon</a> </span><span style="font-size: large;">✯ <a href="http://mybook.to/DarkSpirits" target="_blank">Amazon Int'l</a></span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;">✯</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/dark-spirits-rebekkah-ford/1114506937?ean=2940016397214" target="_blank">B&N</a> ✯ <a href="https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/286383" target="_blank">Smashwords</a></span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;">✯</span><span style="font-size: large;"> </span><span style="font-size: large;"><a href="https://itunes.apple.com/mt/book/dark-spirits/id605970372?mt=11" target="_blank">iTunes</a> ✯ <a href="http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/dark-spirits-1" target="_blank">Kobo</a> ✯ <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/28166584-dark-spirits" target="_blank">Goodreads</a></span><br />
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<b>"Rebekkah Ford does it again. Fantastic Read!"</b></div>
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<b>"More! More!"</b></div>
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<b>"I love this series by Rebekkah Ford."</b></div>
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<b>"Great story!"</b></div>
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<b>"Wonderful trilogy . . . More wanted!"</b></div>
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<b>"Amazing!"</b></div>
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<b>-Reader reviews</b><br />
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<b>The Exciting Continuation Of The Beyond the Eyes Trilogy. </b><br />
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In a rainy, misty town filled with moss-covered trees and dwarfed by wooded mountains, Astoria, Oregon, holds many secrets and eighteen-year-old Paige Reed is one of them. She's immortal, has magical abilities she's discovering, and harbors King Solomon's power inside her. With his incantations, she can control the dark spirits who lurk among societies in soulless humans.<br />
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But her problems are mounting.<br />
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Her best friend slips into a coma, and Paige must tap into her newfound powers--powers she's unsure of--to save her.<br />
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Through this ordeal, Bael who once commanded a legion of black souls, forces Paige to make a pact with him, causing her to abandon the ones she loves. When she finds out where Solomon's spells are and tells Bael, she begins to have second thoughts about her agreement with him.<br />
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Will Paige risk everything to claim the spells that hold the power to control the dark spirits so she can enslave Bael? Or will her one true love find her before she makes a horrible mistake?<br />
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And most importantly, what does the Devil's third mean and what is Bael really up to?<br />
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The candles were still flickering, the incense still burning. I rose, thinking, okay cool, some magic was going on here. Awesome. At least I’d accomplished casting a circle and providing protection from outside malevolent forces. But now what? Then, something at the edge of my vision caught my attention. I turned, my gaze moving to the figure on the floor.<br />
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Holy crap!<br />
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The figure was me!<br />
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What the hell?<br />
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As soon as the realization came that I was out of my body and in the spiritual realm, I immediately thought of Carrie, knowing I had to reach her before my two hours were up.<br />
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The walls began to spin, briefly showing different landscapes: a meadow like the one I’d seen before my grandmother left me, a village nestled among emerald green hills, houses with thatched roofs, horses running wild in a vast prairie shimmering in gold, a coliseum much like the one in Rome but new and constructed out of white marble.<br />
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“Carrie!” I yelled when the scenery wouldn’t stop. “Where are you?”<br />
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The spinning reversed, then accelerated at a rapid pace. Globs of gray and black colors and an occasional bolt of lightning whipped around me. Finally, it stopped, and my stomach lurched at the dismal scenery it now displayed.<br />
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The dark, clear sky shined and glistened, reminding me of black ice. A dirt road led to a town that appeared abandoned, and there were fires burning inside large trash cans along the side of the trail.<br />
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I closed my eyes. “Carrie,” I whispered, calling up a wonderful memory from our childhood of us playing in our tree house, seeing it in my mind. A cool breeze swept across my arms, raising goosebumps. How I could feel this in my spiritual form, I didn’t know. All I could figure was because I remained attached to my body, I somehow could experience it.<br />
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When I opened my eyes, I gasped. Before me stood a shabby wooden building. Orange light flickered behind the cracked, smudged windows, and I could hear somebody softly crying on the other side of a crooked plank door. My heart squeezed at the heartbreaking sound.<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">A Companion To The Beyond The Eyes Trilogy</span></b><br />
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After eighteen-year-old Carrie Jacobson discovers she was a witch in a previous life, she seeks to reawaken that part of her soul. With the help of an eccentric enchantress and a boy who is more than he seems, Carrie succeeds and is spellbound by the memories of her life in Europe during the 1600s as a powerful witch named Isadora. Carrie reverts to her bewitching, more volatile form and sets out to break a curse she cast long ago on her coven.<br />
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Carrie’s boyfriend Tree cannot help feeling uneasy about the changes he sees in the woman he loves. When Carrie’s past clashes with the present and dark magic intoxicates her once again, Tree must take drastic matters into his own hands and attempt to save Carrie from herself.<br />
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With Tree’s help, will Carrie be able to resist the allure of her new powers? Or will she plunge into the deep end and give into them?<br />
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<div style="text-align: justify;">
Rebekkah Ford is an award-winning author who writes paranormal fiction. She believes her fascination with the unknown derives from her childhood. When her parents were married, they were the directors of the UFO Investigator’s League. They also investigated ghost hauntings and Bigfoot sightings in addition to extraterrestrial cases. Rebekkah’s upbringing, knowledge, and experiences with the paranormal world, along with her colorful imagination, aids her in creating her stories.<br />
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Rebekkah has an irreverent sense of humor, is known to annoy her beloved cat, Church, by singing opera to him (Rebekkah is tone deaf, btw), and she believes having a dirty mind makes boring conversations more interesting.<br />
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awhit333http://www.blogger.com/profile/01542601928235649986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1918948667970999096.post-57406385554102849772017-01-02T05:30:00.001-06:002017-01-02T15:45:32.110-06:00Fighting for Us by Mareta L. Miller- Release Blitz<a href="https://justonemorepage5.files.wordpress.com/2016/12/ffurelease.jpg"><img alt="ffurelease" class="size-full wp-image-17339 aligncenter" height="226" src="https://justonemorepage5.files.wordpress.com/2016/12/ffurelease.jpg" width="611" /></a>
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<strong> Release Blitz
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Title: Fighting for Us</div>
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Author: Mareta L. Miller</div>
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Release Date: December 27, 2016</div>
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Wesley Draves was a doctor, he was a country club member, and the woman of his dreams just promised him a lifetime together. He never imagined a simple and ever so common mistake would take it all away in an instant. Four years later, he's branded a murderer by some, with the time he's spent paying for that night being really only the tip of the iceberg. Now free, he falls into the world of underground fighting, every day chasing the chance to know the relief that joining her in death would bring.
In a surprise attack, he’s finally called to the other side, and he follows willingly until a woman he’s never met begs him to stay and fight for his life. Against all he's wanted for more than four years, he allows the eyes and the voice of this angel to call him back.
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Reanne Lacey lived a simple life. The product of a broken home, she was raised by her grandmother and now owning her own bakery is their dream come true. She has everything a twenty-six-year-old could want, except for love. Her dream required her to put the rest of her life on hold and now dreams of someone to spend it with consume her. Then one night, she's called into the life of a man whom she's never met but will never forget. He begs her to let him go, but she locks her eyes with his and asks him to stay.
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Fate would save Wes that night, and hand him a second chance he didn’t think he wanted. Now he's running from two pasts, not willing to let either of them ruin his future. But leaving one of those pasts behind won’t be so easy, especially when it refuses to let him go. He’ll be forced to fight again, this time to save her, but it might just cost both of them their lives.
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial";">My name is Mareta L. Miller, and I’m a thirty-something-year-old Las Vegas native. Trust me when I say </span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial";">that</span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial";"> growing up in Vegas, is not as awesome as it sounds. I’ve never lived in a casino and I’ve never been a stripper or a showgirl, but I have spotted Elvis no less than twice a day, my entire life. I’m just your average wife and mother of ten. </span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial";">Yup, I said ten,</span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial";"> consisting of three daughters, a stepson, three puppies (</span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial";">because </span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial";">mine will never be dogs), two kitties, and a turtle.
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial";">I wish I could say I don’t have to work outside of my writing, but I do, and rectifying that fact is on the top of my “When I make it Big” list. Working the standard 40hr week, doesn’t leave much time to write, but I take advantage of every minute I have. Late nights and early mornings make for really long days, but I </span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial";">figure I </span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial";">can sleep later.
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial";">My writing, </span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial";">which only started a little over a year ago,</span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial";"> has become a constant need. </span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial";">It's been my way to deal with fear, but also a way to create hope. Hope that real love exists and can conquer. </span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial";">It </span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial";">gives</span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial";"> me </span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial";">a</span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial";"> feeli</span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial";">ng</span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial";"> of </span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial";">accomplishment</span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial";"> and I love being able to share my stories with all of you. I hope you’ll continue to follow me on this journey because this is only </span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial";">my</span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial";"> beginning. Although my wings have begun to flutter, </span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial";">you</span></span><span style="color: black;"><span style="font-family: "arial";">’ve yet to really see me fly.</span></span></span></div>
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Xoxo's,</div>
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M</div>
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awhit333http://www.blogger.com/profile/01542601928235649986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1918948667970999096.post-88458800162411598432017-01-02T05:30:00.000-06:002017-01-02T15:40:39.452-06:00Eight (A Pink Novel #2) by K.S.Thomas- Release Tour<div style="text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy55aV7eT2WjbBv7zt0B71CkO91EU3Ed_EGwY2l9c1tCBdxKaIJogDFzR9txRQ5piYbcN4GQ9JpTWchXB1l00Q73VTATKxzi3cibd-zVrSet_LvfzjeVcxQegHPLADkbvLzvV6QTUSDkY/s1600/Releasebanner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiy55aV7eT2WjbBv7zt0B71CkO91EU3Ed_EGwY2l9c1tCBdxKaIJogDFzR9txRQ5piYbcN4GQ9JpTWchXB1l00Q73VTATKxzi3cibd-zVrSet_LvfzjeVcxQegHPLADkbvLzvV6QTUSDkY/s640/Releasebanner.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>EIGHT</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;">A pINK Novel, #2</span>
<span style="font-size: large;">by K.S. Thomas</span></div>
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<b>Genre:</b> contemporary romance
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyE-ii31ar9zMvknEbX0GT0JrSQQHjkEUHaDpiQrTjTET_PMc9JuI_i5W2UFbcfILLxh7tOgjfBciGR5qrPnkbHsICjU5wth1bEJq63yMgwqifp0KFzSzRHhfvHZuL_Fz0wllP3nfFJDM/s1600/Eight-ebook.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgyE-ii31ar9zMvknEbX0GT0JrSQQHjkEUHaDpiQrTjTET_PMc9JuI_i5W2UFbcfILLxh7tOgjfBciGR5qrPnkbHsICjU5wth1bEJq63yMgwqifp0KFzSzRHhfvHZuL_Fz0wllP3nfFJDM/s640/Eight-ebook.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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Eight seconds at a time. That’s how you beat the bull. Survive the ride. Win.<br />
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Eight seconds at a time.<br />
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It’s been drilled into me for as long as I can remember. To help me focus. Manage my fear. Stay in control.<br />
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Eight seconds at a time.<br />
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I can do anything eight seconds at a time.<br />
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Even get over her.<br />
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Riot.<br />
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When she disappeared, it was all I could think to do. Keep breathing. Keep moving. Keep living.<br />
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Eight seconds at a time.<br />
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Until eight seconds turned to eight minutes. Eight hours. Eight days. Eight weeks. Eight months.<br />
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And finally, eight years.<br />
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Only now she’s back.<br />
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And I know the only way I’m getting through this, is eight seconds at a time.</div>
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“Babe, I don’t care about your past.” She waves her hand, trying to gesture how far out of the picture it is, even when we both know it’s not nearly far enough.<br />
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“But you should.” I lift my wrist and hold it out for her to see. “Remember this?” I shake it, as if shaking her name will somehow shake her out of my system. “This is her.”<br />
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“Riot?” Juli’s growing more confused and scared every time I open my mouth. I’m not doing this very well. “Riot is a person?”<br />
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“Yeah, Riot is a person.” I drop my arm to my side again. “Stone’s her real name. She’s Sketch’s sister. We’ve known each other since we were kids. Fell in love by the time we were in our teens. She was crazy and off the walls, she was a non-stop riot, my Riot.”<br />
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Juli’s lips press together tightly, leaving a white line across her face where her mouth should be. “Until she dumped you,” she spats, clearly hoping that’s the end of my story.<br />
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“She didn’t dump me.” Hell, maybe she did. Maybe running away was her extremely elaborate way of ending our relationship. Wouldn’t be the first time I considered the possibility.<br />
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“She disappeared. Middle of the night. Her parents thought she’d been kidnapped. Cops were leaning toward runaway, but no one ever knew for sure.” I haven’t told anyone about any of this in years. Not since it first happened. It’s strange how easily it’s all coming out. Maybe it’s shock. Maybe I should just enjoy the slow spreading numbness of it while it lasts.<br />
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“Sounds very dramatic,” Juli snorts snidely. “I’m sure everyone felt really stupid when she showed up again just another moody teenager.”<br />
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My brow furrows. She’s not getting it.<br />
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“No…that’s what I’m trying to tell you, Juli. She never showed back up. She was missing this whole time. For eight years no one had a fucking clue what happened to her. She was just…gone. Until today.”<br />
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Silence.<br />
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Well, the loud rush of blood and explosive pounding of my heart from the adrenaline notwithstanding, silence.<br />
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“Why are you telling me all of this now?” Her voice is quiet. She knows the answer to her own question even if she doesn’t want to.<br />
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“So you understand…why I can’t do this right now. Us. Moving forward. Making plans. I just need…a break.”<br />
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Tears well up in her blue eyes and her usually flawless mascara smears despite her attempt to lightly dab at the corners with her fingertips. “Are you going back to her?”<br />
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I shake my head. “It’s not about going back to anyone. It’s about all the shit I have to figure out now that she’s here. Shit I can’t drag you through, Juli. Shit that I buried so far down inside me the only thing that was ever going to bring it back to see the light of day was her, and honest to God, I gave up believing that day would ever come a long time ago.”<br />
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She bites her lip, eyes turned up at me with such sadness I hate myself for putting it there. “But you wanted it to. You wanted the day to come…for her to come back.”<br />
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Always. Every second of every day I wanted it.<br />
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“I never wanted this.”<br />
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<span style="font-size: large; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: underline;">EIGHT</span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><u>ELEVEN (ACCOMPANYING PREQUEL NOVELETTE)</u></b></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: "arial"; font-size: large; white-space: pre-wrap;">⇦ </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: "arial"; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: large;">🌟</span></span><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: "arial"; font-size: large; white-space: pre-wrap;">Free</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #141823; font-family: "arial"; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: large;">🌟</span></span></div>
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Nine.<br />
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The number of years between us.<br />
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Nine.<br />
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And that’s just one reason it’ll never work. I have eight more. One for every year I’ve been alive longer than he has. They’re simple reasons. Obvious ones. And all I should need to know to understand that giving Lucas McNealy even half a thought, is a total and complete waste of time.<br />
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Only he doesn’t seem to know that. If he did, I’m sure he wouldn’t keep showing up.<br />
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In my thoughts.<br />
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At my shop.<br />
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And on my doorstep.<br />
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Nine simple reasons.<br />
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Nine undeniable years.<br />
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Nine attempts to tell him ‘No’. Nine.<br />
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<b><u><span style="font-size: large;">NINE</span></u></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;"><a href="http://amzn.to/2hRRtxF" target="_blank">Amazon</a> ✯ <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/nine-ks-thomas/1123886841?ean=9781537200903" target="_blank">B&N</a> ✯ <a href="https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/nine-a-pink-novel-1/id1121092347?mt=11" target="_blank">iTunes</a> ✯ <a href="https://www.kobo.com/ca/en/ebook/nine-a-pink-novel-1" target="_blank">Kobo</a> ✯ <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/30531054-nine" target="_blank">Goodreads</a></span><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><u>TEN (ACCOMPANYING PREQUEL NOVELETTE)</u></b></span></div>
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<a href="http://amzn.to/2hTgF9G" target="_blank">Amazon</a> ✯ <a href="http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/ten-ks-thomas/1123866348?ean=9781537200354" target="_blank">B&N</a> ✯ <a href="https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/ten-a-pink-novelette/id1119410245?mt=11" target="_blank">iTunes</a> ✯ <a href="https://www.kobo.com/ca/en/ebook/ten-a-pink-novelette" target="_blank">Kobo</a> ✯ <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/30330057-ten" target="_blank">Goodreads</a><br />
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<span style="font-size: large;">Dog Lover who likes her pastries full of cream and sugar….oh…and I write some ;-)</span>
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Aside from being an author, I am also a mom to a beautiful 5 year old little girl. I tell everyone I named her after my great-grandmother (because that’s the mature answer), but really, I named her after my favorite princess – just so happens I got lucky and they had the same name…If I wasn’t a writer, I would work on a horse ranch – I’m an animal lover (in addition to dogs, horses are at the top of my list). I wear flip-flops pretty much everywhere I go. I would rather stay awake until 5 am than get up at 5 am (years of bar tending have left their mark), if I can, I’m going to the beach AND I will always be nice to people who bring me chocolate…or coffee…if you bring me both, I’ll probably love you forever. A gypsy at heart, I write the way I live, following the story wherever it may lead, always ready to start the next one. This is clearly reflected in my body of work which to date includes everything from Children’s Lit to Thrillers.
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I happily reside in sunny Florida (for now) and always enjoy hearing from fellow readers!!
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awhit333http://www.blogger.com/profile/01542601928235649986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1918948667970999096.post-38682911831533208402016-12-29T05:00:00.000-06:002016-12-29T05:00:18.100-06:00Tangle of Strings (Sweeney Sisters Series #4) by Ashley Farley Pre-Order Blitz<div style="text-align: center;">
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<strong>Book Title:</strong> Tangle of Strings (Sweeny Sisters Series, #4) </div>
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<strong>Author:</strong> Ashely Farley </div>
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<strong>Genre:</strong> Women's Fiction </div>
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<strong>Release Date:</strong> January 18, 2017 </div>
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<strong>Hosted by:</strong> Book Enthusiast Promotions</div>
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<b><br />A nearly tragic accident leads to a discovery that rocks the Sweeney family’s world.</b><br />
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Some families never resolve conflicts. Not so with the Sweeneys. Their sense of family, their love for one another, and their willingness to forgive have always triumphed and brought them back together. Until now. The latest crisis threatens to tear the family apart and crumble the foundation that has always proved itself rock solid. <br />
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At the heart of the matter are sixteen-year-old Annie Bethune and her boyfriend, Cooper. At stake are their dreams for the future. As to these dreams, no one in the family holds back when asserting an opinion.<br />
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Annie soon begins to feel like a puppet on strings with all those she loves telling her what to do. When those strings become tangled and a family feud develops, Annie, unable to bear the pressure, runs away. Straight into the arms of danger.<br />
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“God! You’re not listening to me.” Annie said, her face scarlet with anger. “I told you I’m happy here. I don’t want to move to Charleston. My life is here, in Prospect.”<br />
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Annie moved to open her car door but Heidi blocked the way. “You’d love Charleston, if you’d give it a chance. There are so many great restaurants. The place is alive with college kids your age. I hope to start my own business, but I can’t do it alone. I need you by my side.” Heidi brushed a stray strand of hair off Annie’s forehead. “You have to admit, it sounds appealing.”<br />
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Annie slapped her hand away. “I’d rather die than work in the same kitchen with you.”<br />
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“Please, baby. Don’t be this way.”<br />
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“I’m not your baby! You abandoned your baby sixteen years ago.” Shoving Heidi out of the way, Annie jumped into her car and struggled to fasten her seat belt. As she shot off down the driveway, she watched her mother slowly disappear in the rearview mirror. She careened onto Creekside Drive with barely a glance in either direction. Tears blurring her vision, she smacked her palms against the steering wheel. “Ugh! I hate her!”</div>
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Ashley Farley is the author of the bestselling series, the Sweeney Sisters Series. Ashley writes books about women for women. Her characters are mothers, daughters, sisters, and wives facing real-life issues. Her goal is to keep you turning the pages until the wee hours of the morning. If her story stays with you long after you've read the last word, then she's done her job.</div>
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After her brother died in 1999 of an accidental overdose, she turned to writing as a way of releasing her pent-up emotions. She wrote SAVING BEN in honor of Neal, the boy she worshipped, the man she could not save.<br />
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Ashley is a wife and mother of two college-aged children. She grew up in the salty marshes of South Carolina, but now lives in Richmond, Virginia, a city she loves for its history and traditions.<span style="font-weight: 400;"><br /></span>
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awhit333http://www.blogger.com/profile/01542601928235649986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1918948667970999096.post-1900768410326232142016-12-28T12:35:00.004-06:002016-12-28T12:35:39.552-06:0010 Books for under $10! <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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awhit333http://www.blogger.com/profile/01542601928235649986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1918948667970999096.post-38380234058551547422016-12-26T05:30:00.000-06:002016-12-28T12:31:07.353-06:00Sunset Reads: Damian & Layla by D.C. Triana <div style="text-align: center;">
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<strong>Book Title:</strong> Sunset Reads: Damian & Layla </div>
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<strong>Author: </strong>D.C. Triana </div>
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<strong>Genre:</strong> Romance/Suspense </div>
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<strong>Release Date:</strong> December 26, 2016 </div>
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<strong>Hosted by:</strong> Book Enthusiast Promotions</div>
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One year.<br />
<br />
It’s been one year since Agent Damian Trent left for Washington without a word.<br />
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One year since he’s seen her beautiful face.<br />
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One year since he’s heard his name on her lips.<br />
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He's been recently called back to New York City on assignment, to catch a criminal who’s trying to infiltrate Sunset Reads. The last thing he expects is to work side by side with the woman he turned his back on.<br />
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Having her close is an unwanted distraction that he’s more than willing to ignore, if only she wasn’t so damn tempting.<br />
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Everything seems under control, until a night of feverish passion has him abandoning all thoughts of reason. Now, he will do everything in his power to get her back, and even more so to protect her.<br />
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Layla Reece wants nothing to do with the man who left her a year ago.<br />
<br />
The man who took her heart with him, leaving her broken.<br />
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After a year of trying to forget Damian Trent, she is finally ready to move on.<br />
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But trying to forget him becomes a tedious task when he suddenly reappears in her life.<br />
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Although she fights to stay away, his magnetism is too strong and she finds herself giving into the deep timbre of his voice, and the strength and safety of his arms.<br />
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Staying away from Damian turns out to be futile, especially when his kisses consume her and his heart shatters the walls she spent so much time building.<br />
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Finding herself in danger, she now has to turn to the only man she trusts to keep her safe, but can she trust him enough to give him her heart once again?<span style="font-weight: 400;"><br /></span>
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<img alt="excerpt" class="wp-image-24052 aligncenter" src="http://bookenthusiastpromotions.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/01/excerpt.png" height="103" width="320" /></div>
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<a href="http://www.bookenthusiastpromotions.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/11/Sunset-Reads-Damian-Layla-Excerpt.pdf" target="_blank"><span style="line-height: 1.5;">Read the Prologue</span></a></h2>
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<br />
My name is D.C. and I'm the author of a new series currently on Amazon called Sunset Reads. The first book is based on the couple William and Cristina who find themselves fighting their urges to be with one another although a series of heated moments changes their lives forever.<br />
<br />
I grew up in New York, I'm the daughter of two wonderful,Colombian immigrant parents. I'm a traveler, the travel bug hit me a couple years ago and my goal is to eventually see the whole world. So far I've gotten to Italy and Japan...I'm thinking Germany next. I started to write as an outlet for being bullied at school and as soon as I started I couldn't put the pen down. It was always my dream to be a published author, ever since the age of fourteen, and now at 34 I finally accomplished my goal. <br />
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I plan on continuing to write and really truly want to get to meet new readers and writers and share experiences and ideas. Being a part of forums is new to me, but I would love to get to know about the people who love to dream and create new ideas and fantasies through literature just like I do. Thank you for making me a part of your group and allowing me to join you in these amazing adventures in storytelling and reading.<br />
<br />
I hope you enjoy reading William & Cristina’s story and continue to join me in this journey within the doors of Sunset Reads! Please sign up to my email list on <a href="http://www.dctriana.com/">http://www.dctriana.com</a> for free giveaways, new excerpts and more on Sunset Reads upcoming new release!<br />
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<a href="http://www.dctriana.com/" target="_blank"><img alt="website" class="alignnone wp-image-15844" src="http://bookenthusiastpromotions.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/01/website-150x150.jpg" height="75" width="75" /></a><a href="http://eepurl.com/bXH-P9" target="_blank"><img alt="newsletter signup" class=" alignnone wp-image-15836" src="http://bookenthusiastpromotions.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/01/newsletter-signup.jpg" height="75" width="75" /></a><a href="https://twitter.com/DCTriana1" target="_blank"><img alt="twitter" class="alignnone wp-image-15843" src="http://bookenthusiastpromotions.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/01/twitter-150x150.jpg" height="75" width="75" /></a><a href="https://www.facebook.com/D.C.Triana82/" target="_blank"><img alt="Facebook" class="alignnone wp-image-15829" src="http://bookenthusiastpromotions.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/01/Facebook-150x150.jpg" height="75" width="75" /></a><a href="https://www.pinterest.com/SunsetReads/sunset-reads-novel/" target="_blank"><img alt="pinterest" class="alignnone wp-image-15838" src="http://bookenthusiastpromotions.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/01/pinterest-150x150.jpg" height="75" width="75" /></a><a href="https://www.instagram.com/dctriana82/" target="_blank"><img alt="instagram" class="alignnone wp-image-15834" src="http://bookenthusiastpromotions.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/01/instagram-150x150.jpg" height="75" width="75" /></a><a href="https://plus.google.com/112242690776481614494" target="_blank"><img alt="Google" class="alignnone wp-image-15832" src="http://bookenthusiastpromotions.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/01/Google-150x150.jpg" height="75" width="75" /></a><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/15091906.D_C_Triana" target="_blank"><img alt="Goodreads" class="alignnone wp-image-15830" src="http://bookenthusiastpromotions.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/01/Goodreads-150x150.jpg" height="75" width="75" /></a></div>
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awhit333http://www.blogger.com/profile/01542601928235649986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1918948667970999096.post-29028413256635805422016-12-22T05:30:00.001-06:002016-12-22T05:30:01.038-06:00The Other Woman by Noell Mosco- Cover Reveal<a href="https://justonemorepage5.files.wordpress.com/2016/12/theotherwomanreveal.jpg"><img alt="theotherwomanreveal" class="size-full wp-image-17312 aligncenter" height="226" src="https://justonemorepage5.files.wordpress.com/2016/12/theotherwomanreveal.jpg" width="611" /></a>
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Title: The Other Woman</div>
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Author: Noell Mosco</div>
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Release Date: January 10, 2017</div>
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“Introvert: a person whose motives and actions are directed inward, who tends to be preoccupied with their own thoughts and feelings, and minimized their contact with other people.” That defines Allyn Anders to a T. She prefers solitude to crowds, working from home to office life, and old music to popular music. Ally, as she prefers to be called, is never one to do anything out of her bubble of comfort until one night.
One night that changes everything.
Cole Clarke is the opposite of an introvert. Hell, he’s the lead singer and guitarist of Sunday Told A Secret, a band that makes Maroon 5 look like child’s play. He’s the band’s “bad boy,” only accepting the title because “loner” and “player” are already claimed by his bandmates, Gunner and Avis.
The night Ally meets Cole is a pure chance encounter. There’s an immediate attraction and the best part? Ally has no idea who Cole is and he kind of loves that.
Fate has more plans that just one night for Cole and Ally. Cole finds that he wants more from Ally, and he wants to give more to her in return. There’s only one problem--he’s married--and his alcoholic wife issues him a new level of misery he never expects.
These two thirty-somethings have decisions to make, messy waters to navigate, and blind faith to trust in this contemporary romance that has a hint of a rock star flair.<br />
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Noell Mosco is a thirty-something-year-old who lives in southwestern Pennsylvania, born and raised. A country girl at heart, she currently resides in a suburb outside of Pittsburgh with her husband and three furbabies. Writing has been one of Noell’s passions since she was young, completing her first “book” at age eleven. Her full-time day job as a physical therapist means she is compassionate, which allows her to follow-up with her second biggest passion--traveling the world. Noell reluctantly admits to having a strong love of wine, though her poison of choice is generally expensive tequila.
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Title: First Sight : The Deal Prequel</div>
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Series: The Deal Series</div>
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Author: Deborah Ann</div>
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~ Before there was The Deal, there was the meeting ~</div>
A successful Graphic Designer, who’s sworn off men.
A high power Divorce Attorney, with a steadfast belief against commitment and monogamy.
And the flight to Toronto that changed it all…
‘First Sight’ ~ The Deal Prequel
Their connection is evident upon first sight...
The electricity and pull there from the first moment...
But Adam Blaire is everything Bethany Drake is sworn against… A wealthy playboy who disarmingly flits from one shattered female heart to the next, leaving a trail of women in his wake.
He also happens to be the hottest, damn sexiest man she’s ever laid eyes on.
But she can’t risk her heart again… not with her inexplicable knack for always choosing the wrong men.
Gorgeous and wildly sexy Adam Blaire is the most sought after divorce attorney in Beverly Hills, and wholly against commitment and monogamy; why should a man settle for just one woman when there are so many beautiful women, just waiting, begging for pleasure?
But there’s something about the woman seated beside him on his flight to Toronto. Something different. Something that draws him in, and grabs hold.
He has to have her! And he’s not waiting till they hit land… Or taking no for an answer!
Bethany can’t fight it, the attraction to this man; the way he touches her, and looks at her…
Against her better judgement, and the risk of yet another heartbreak, she throws caution to the wind to indulge in a night of pleasure with the sinfully sexy Adam Blaire. After all, it’s only one night.
In a completely different country.
She’ll never see the man again.
What’s the harm?
Learn the details of Adam and Bethany's meeting, the intimate elements of their sexy mid-air doings, and the passionate, lust-filled night that led to their deal...
‘First Sight’ The Deal Prequel
Where Bethany and Adam’s story began.
~ * ~
**Warning ~ This book is intended for readers age 18 and above. ~
Follow up 'First Sight' The Deal Prequel with 'The Deal' ~ Adam & Bethany's full story!
~ Here's what reviewers have said about Adam & Bethany in The Deal' ~
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~
<i>Deborah Ann lives in Northern California with her husband and their two children, where she has enjoyed a long career in the Beauty Industry.</i>
<i>After years of reading with her children and passing on a love for books, Deborah was inspired to write The Destiny Series. What started out in the beginning, as a celebration of a loving, young, innocent friendship and the affecting separation after a move, spun into a mythical journey of the loving binds of friendship, deep family ties, and an intoxicating fairy tale romance, with the power of love that knows no bounds</i>.
<i>‘Memory Betrayal’& ‘The Deal’ followed, with a leap from young adult romance to adult romance. And while it can be a balancing act at times, Deborah sneaks in as much time as she can to slip into the lives of her characters, and the magical world in which they live</i>...
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>DEATH AND DESTINY TRILOGY</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;">Books 1 & 2</span>
<span style="font-size: large;">by N.D. Jones</span></div>
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<b>Genre:</b> paranormal romance<br />
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Before trust and love can take hold, grow solid roots, and blossom into a reality larger than self, fear must be conquered and faith embraced. Yet fear of an ancient prophecy, of burning magical power, and a broken heart, Sanura Williams, psychology professor, is unprepared when Special Agent Assefa Berber enters her life, hunting a preternatural serial killer. Assefa's intelligent, chocolate eyes and intoxicating aura signature stirs her fire spirit but frightens the woman.<br />
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In a world where all is not as it seems, Sanura and Assefa must battle the gods' first creations - vile predators who threaten the safety of humans. Each confrontation, each bloody clash, will bring Sanura and Assefa closer to fulfilling the prophecy of being the Fire Witch and Cat of Legend - the ones who will save humanity from the Water Witch of Legend. Death, godly magic, and physical attraction draw Sanura and Assefa to each other, but fear and faith will determine their destiny.<br />
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Sanura rushed off the elevator and down a bright corridor with pink, blue, and yellow balloons decorating the walls of the children’s wing, bordering a mural of happy children in a park, the sun above affirming their special place in the world. An illusion, she thought, a beautiful illusion of how life should be for children. The truth, however, rested behind the closed hospital doors, where reality had long since claimed their innocence.<br />
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Her heels clicked with each long stride she took, her pace hurried, purposeful. Mike only sought her counsel on cases of a unique nature, counsel that was off the record. And she was late. She hated being late, and Mike would worry. Mike constantly worried. He’d probably already called her mother or Cynthia alerting them to her MIA status.<br />
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Sanura made a right onto another colorful corridor. At the end of the glistening hallway sat Mike, cell phone in hand and an all-too-familiar scowl gracing his aging features. As if sensing her presence, he looked up from his phone, and their eyes met. His face softened, reminding Sanura of the soft heart encased within the detective’s tortoise shell of a body.<br />
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“I’m sorry I’m late. The beltway was a beast.” She bent to give Mike a heartfelt hug, her long arms circling his taut shoulders.<br />
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“It’s all right. I was just beginning to worry about you, but you showed up before I had a chance to call Cynthia.”<br />
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“You always worry about me, and I’ll tell you the same thing I told Dad and I tell Mom, I can—”<br />
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“Take care of myself,” he finished. “I know, but that won’t stop me from worrying, so you might as well accept it.”<br />
She kissed Mike on the cheek and sat beside him in one of the wooden chairs lining the hallway, conveniently serving as a family waiting area.<br />
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“So, tell me about this case of yours, the girl, and what you need me to do.” Sanura leaned back in the chair and crossed her legs, seeking a comfort she knew wouldn’t last once Mike began.<br />
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Sanura listened to the detailed, unabridged facts of the case, having already read reports of the slayings in the Baltimore Sun. The gruesome murders headlined every local news program from the early morning news to the eleven o’clock evening news.<br />
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She nodded, listening intently to details about Elizabeth Ferrell’s horrific night. While Sanura enjoyed using her training to help Mike, she hated when the case involved children, which didn’t make any sense since she was a child psychologist. Perhaps that was it, she reasoned, as Mike regaled her with one morbid piece of evidence followed by an even more depressing fact. Perhaps it took a person who detested even the thought of an injured child to be such a strong advocate for their rights and protection. Sanura wanted to help those lost souls. No, she needed to help them, free them from their pain, their misery.<br />
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So she sat and listened and fought the urge to cover her mouth and squirm in her chair when Mike described the crime scene photos his temporary partner had shown him earlier in the day. And just when she was about to tell him she didn’t need to know the coroner’s findings, a wave of energy slammed into her, shredding her concentration, dissolving all thoughts of the child and the case. The energy rode Sanura hard, forcing her eyes to close, mouth slightly parting, aura open and alert, searching for the source.<br />
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Deep breaths, Sanura. Deep, calming breaths.<br />
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With embarrassed concentration, she slowly opened her eyes. And a smiling stranger stood before her, a chilled bottle of water in his right hand.<br />
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Their eyes met, and another blast of energy assaulted her senses. She didn’t close her eyes this time and refused to look away. No, Sanura simply absorbed the magical energy, opening her senses and pulling the scent to her. It swirled about her, strong but gentle. And while it should have felt strange, as if her body had been invaded by a foreign substance, it simply felt—right.<br />
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The man’s eyes widened, almost as much as his nostrils when he inhaled deeply. Still he only stared, gaze unwavering, eyes sparkling with unasked questions. Yeah, she had questions of her own, like, had he experienced the odd sensation too? Sanura didn’t know. But she had felt it, as strongly as she now felt the heat of his gaze roaming her body, slow and sensual, ratcheting up the indescribable energy between them tenfold. Damn.<br />
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Mike stood and placed himself between Sanura and the fine stranger with the most tantalizing aura she had ever sensed. Mike faced the man, his head craned up to meet the taller man’s eyes, a snarl seeping through his lips when he said, “We talked about this, remember what I said.”<br />
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Frowning, the stranger gave Mike a hard you’re-not-worth-my-time look before gazing over Mike’s shoulder and at her. His smile returned and settled firmly on her still-seated form. Angling from behind her godfather, the stranger extended his right hand.<br />
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“Hi, I’m Special Agent Assefa Berber. I assume you’re Dr. Williams, the child psychologist and professor.”<br />
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Sanura stood and returned the smile. She took the offered hand and shook, trying—futilely—to ignore his unique masculine scent. The scent went straight to all the right places, subtly finding her genetic code and adding his. Impossible. “Yes, it’s nice to meet you, Special Agent Berber. Mike’s told me so much about you.” But not everything. Not nearly.</div>
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In a world of mystery and magic, sometimes old bonds must be broken before new ones can be formed. Who knew that finding one’s soul mate would test bonds and unleash beasts?<br />
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Mami Wata and Oya are now free from their watery prison and ready to wage a battle five hundred years in the making. Special Agent Assefa Berber and Dr. Sanura Williams are the prophesized Cat and Fire Witch of Legend. To save the world from Mami Wata, a water goddess with a bloody thirst for power and an insatiable appetite for death and destruction, they must defeat her beasts and the Water Witch of Legend.<br />
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Assefa and Sanura are fully in love but possess only a partial mate bond. While Sanura has merged their auras, bonding Assefa’s cat spirit to her, she has yet to accept his claiming bite. Their incomplete mate bond and their new relationship are tested when Mami Wata sets her malevolent eyes on them, manipulating beasts, sacrificing humans, and creating heartache. Can their bond survive, or will they drown under the vicious tide of godly might?<br />
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With focused golden eyes, alert gray ears, and keen black snout, the Mngwa took in his surroundings.<br />
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The prickly grass under his large, wide paws.<br />
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The heat of the midday sun beating down on his thick black-and-gray fur.<br />
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The scent of mullah bamyah—garlic, tomato juice, minced beef, okra, salt, and pepper.<br />
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The four snarling big cats stalking him.<br />
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Scanning each strong, lithe, and ferocious cat, the Mngwa cataloged their stance, their position, and the distance between each other and from the Mngwa. They flanked him, a large cat to his front, rear, and sides. If the Mngwa could smile, he would have. Foolishly, they thought their numbers a strategic advantage that would fell the undefeated Mngwa of myth and legend. Instead of a smile, he snarled, a baring of elongated teeth.<br />
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A challenge.<br />
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The four cats attacked, their bestial response to his bait.<br />
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Four sets of paws struck the ground, claws digging into grass and dirt, brawny legs propelling them forward. Razor-sharp teeth bared, husky growls cut through the muggy June air, and feline eyes glowed with a premature win.<br />
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The leopard reached the Mngwa first, snapping and going for the bigger cat’s neck. Not wasting time with the youngest of the four attackers, the Mngwa sidestepped the snarling, snapping leopard. To only pivot, turn, and ram the side of the too-slow feline with the Mngwa’s massive head. Away from the Mngwa the leopard flew, sailing through the air and crashing to the ground several feet away.<br />
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The three other cats spared no pitying glance to the downed leopard, who lay on his side, breathing labored and ragged. A sure sign of broken ribs.<br />
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More growls and snapping, each cat trying for a different part of the Mngwa’s massive body. The Mngwa was having none of it, so he went on the offensive. Leaping over the biggest threat, the Bengal tiger, the Mngwa landed nimbly, then ran straight at the cheetah. Taking the speckled feline by surprise, the Mngwa powered over the cat, knocking him down before hauling him up by his scrawny neck and shaking. The cheetah’s fragile neck was held firm between the Mngwa’s curved saber-shaped teeth.<br />
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When the Mngwa no longer felt resistance, he opened his deadly jaws and allowed the cheetah to fall from his brutal clutch and slip, nearly unconscious, to the waiting grass.<br />
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Smack. Bite.<br />
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The lion and tiger claimed simultaneous strikes on the Mngwa. A swipe across his hindquarters and a bite to his side. The lion latched onto the Mngwa, his lethal teeth working to find purchase in the cat of legend’s winter dense fur and even thicker hide.<br />
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Like the predator he was, the Bengal tiger charged while the Mngwa grappled with the formidable lion. A mix of yellow-and-orange with wide dark-brown stripes, the 510-pound tiger landed on top of the Mngwa. His weight hefty, his claws long, sharp, and dangerous. The maw that threatened his nape even deadlier.<br />
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The lion kept up his offensive, kept clawing, kept sinking his teeth in deeper and deeper.<br />
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The Mngwa roared, reared back on his hind legs, forcing the tiger off him and to the hard ground. With a side dive, the Mngwa dropped the entirety of his 695 pounds onto the 380-pound lion. His long, dark mane shot up and out with the force of the attack.<br />
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The downed lion snapped and snarled but didn’t get up. No, with the Mngwa looming over him, golden eyes marble hard, paw raised, claws out and within striking range of the lion’s throat, the feline had only two choices.<br />
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One would see him dead, while the other …<br />
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The lion lowered his eyes, and then his head.<br />
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Submission.<br />
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Pleased, the Mngwa shifted his gaze to the tiger, his other senses having tracked the big cat the entire time.<br />
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He knew it would come down to this—the Mngwa versus the Bengal tiger. It always did.<br />
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The big cats circled, taking each other’s measure. They searched for an opening, an opportunity to attack with the least probability of an effective and bruising counterattack. The combatants knew each other well—style of combat, defensive and offensive tactics.<br />
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Speed, size, and agility were on the Mngwa’s side. Yet, the toxin from an animal no longer than an inch, the golden poison frog could kill a dozen men. Its tiny size and bright colors deceiving. Not, at a length of 120 inches and 43 inches of shoulder height, with a tail just as long, there was anything small about the Bengal tiger baring his gleaming white teeth at the Mngwa.<br />
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The Mngwa underestimated no one—no matter the outward appearance of the enemy. Even the cat of legend, if incautious, could taste the bitter tang of defeat. So he watched and waited and plotted the tiger’s downfall.<br />
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The tiger charged, all muscle and menace. His long, powerful legs ate up the distance between them, determined copper eyes all for the Mngwa.<br />
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The cat of legend braced himself, choosing to face the big cat head-on. He wanted this fight, the primal challenge that only a great beast like the Bengal tiger could give him. A glorious battle of fangs, fur, and claws that would push, force, and compel the Mngwa to prove his worth, his manhood, his undisputed dominance as the predator of predators.<br />
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Crash.<br />
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The ground shook - the Mngwa and tiger locked in a feral clench.<br />
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Biting.<br />
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Clawing.<br />
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Pulling.<br />
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Strong. The tiger was so strong. But not strong enough.<br />
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The Mngwa opened his mouth wide and clamped down on fur and flesh. The neck of his opponent was thick with rigid muscles and delicate veins. The pulse of the tiger’s life a strong, fast throbbing beat in the Mngwa’s deadly mouth.<br />
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The tiger whimpered his pain. Neither loud nor long. But enough, enough for the Mngwa’s ears to detect the effect of his attack. Yet the tiger fought on, as the Mngwa knew he would. As the Mngwa wanted him to, the tiger too stubborn, courageous, and fierce to submit so easily.<br />
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No, there was much fight left in the Bengal tiger.<br />
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He swiped at the Mngwa, vicious claws finding vulnerable underbelly and drawing blood. It hurt, but not enough for the bigger cat to release his vice grip. The Mngwa sank his teeth deeper into the side of the tiger’s neck, tasting blood and prideful were-cat magic.<br />
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Her gardenia scent slammed into his senses seconds before the Mngwa and the tiger were surrounded by a ring of raging fire. Breaking his hold on the smaller cat, the Mngwa turned to see an angry fire witch barreling toward them—green eyes cold, red-gold hair and long striped sundress blowing in a wind that came out of nowhere. Her deadly focus was all for the Bengal tiger who, unlike when he fought the Mngwa, trembled with fear.<br />
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Lightning hissed.<br />
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Thunder growled.<br />
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And fire witch magic crackled in the blistering summer air.<br />
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Dammit, he had to do something and fast. Retreating as far as he could go within the cage of fire, the Mngwa propelled himself forward, accelerating when he approached the heated barrier and jumped. With ease, he cleared the four-foot high ring of fire and landed, with an oompf, on top of a glaring Sanura.<br />
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“I can’t believe you just—”<br />
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He licked her. From the front ring bodice of her green-and-orange striped dress, up her toned shoulders and around the tie neck, and into thick hair covering an ear, the Mngwa tasted his witch.</div>
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“Get off me, you big furball. I can’t breathe.”<br />
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Satisfied and comfortable, the Mngwa nuzzled his witch’s face, neck, and her heaving breasts, unfazed by Sanura’s angry protestations. The only part of him that pinned the witch down was his massive head and part of his chest. But, the Mngwa supposed, even that much weight could be heavy on a woman who, while five-feet-ten-inches tall, weighed no more than 140 pounds. With a teasing snort that had a lock of her wavy hair flying upward and out of her eye, the Mngwa decided it best to give the fire breathing witch some relief.<br />
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With a single thought from Assefa—I’ll take care of our witch, my friend, go to sleep—the cat gave way to the man. A transformative effect where fur and hide succumbed to hair and skin, paws and claws shrank to hands and legs, and golden eyes, muzzle, and fangs retreated, waning under Assefa’s command.<br />
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“Is that better?” Assefa smiled down at his hot-tempered girlfriend, right before settling the whole of him on top of the whole of her.<br />
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Very nice. Sanura made for the best mattress—plush, lush and with the right amount of firmness.<br />
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“You’re naked.” A huffed complaint that did nothing to encourage Assefa to move off her.<br />
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“Of course. My Mngwa doesn’t like clothing.” He shifted on top of her, letting Sanura feel just how naked he was. “He thinks pants are too binding. What do you think?”<br />
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She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I think you need to worry more about that big damn tiger you were fighting rather than your Mngwa in boxers.”<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">N. D. Jones</span></b> lives in Maryland with her husband and two children. She is the founder of Kuumba Publishing, an art, audiobook, eBook, and paperback company. Kuumba Publishing is a forum for creativity, with a special commitment to promoting and encouraging creative works of authors and artists of African descent.<br />
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A desire to see more novels with positive, sexy, and three-dimensional African American characters as soul mates, friends, and lovers, inspired the author to take on the challenge of penning such romantic reads. She is the author of two paranormal romance series: Winged Warriors and Death and Destiny. N.D. likes to read historical and paranormal romance novels, as well as comics and manga.<br />
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awhit333http://www.blogger.com/profile/01542601928235649986noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1918948667970999096.post-53986466097074369612016-12-21T05:30:00.000-06:002016-12-21T05:30:16.332-06:00Scoring with Santa by Threresa Roemer & Renee Rose- Release Blitz<div style="text-align: center;">
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<strong>Book Title:</strong> Scoring with Santa </div>
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<strong>Author:</strong> Theresa Roemer & Renee Rose </div>
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<strong>Genre:</strong> Sports Romance </div>
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<strong>Release Date:</strong> December 20, 2016 </div>
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<strong>Hosted by:</strong> Book Enthusiast Promotions</div>
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<b><i>A career-driven mom. Houston’s most eligible heartthrob. The irresistible attraction could destroy both their careers.</i></b><br />
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Rick Morehouse doesn’t date single moms. As the former quarterback for the Houston Texans, he’s Houston’s most eligible bachelor. But after the heartache of abandonment by his own mother’s string of boyfriends, he never wants to hurt anyone’s kids that way. When he meets Brandy Love, the drop-dead gorgeous owner of Phenomenal Physiques, he’s totally taken by the confident career woman. It’s too bad she has kids.<br />
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Brandy Love doesn’t have room in her life for a relationship. Opening a chain of gyms and parenting her kids already takes more time than she has. But when Coach Charming drops in on her gym, she’s sorely tempted.<br />
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When a vengeful columnist roasts Rick to bring down his team at the playoffs, Brandy must decide if he’s worth fighting for. But even if she can save him, will he accept her and her kids in his life?<br />
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Devour this sexy and sweet holiday page-turner today!<br />
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“Flaming hot sports romance with a dash of Desperate Housewives--Roemer and Rose truly delight!" ~USA Today Bestselling Author Lee Savino</blockquote>
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<b>Interesting Fact:</b> The heroine and some of the material for this book was based on co-author Theresa Roemer’s life. Theresa owned a chain of fitness clubs called Body by Design and personal training services called Phenomenal Physiques, took the U.S. Open title in bodybuilding at the age of 40, and held the titles of Mrs. Houston U.A., Mrs. Texas U.A., and was the 1st runner up for Mrs. United America concurrently.<br />
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He caught her wrist as she moved out of his personal space. He had fast reflexes for a guy who had just been struggling to keep his hands interlaced behind his back. “Don’t stop,” he murmured, flashing that megawatt smile again.<br />
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She forced a chuckle. “Hey, I charge a lot for private lessons. That’s all you get for a freebie.”<br />
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He threw his head back and laughed, a deep rumbling sound that warmed her from the top of her head to the tips of her toes. “Well, how can I go about scheduling one of those privates?”<br />
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She looked away, stepping toward the door and forcing him to drop her wrist. “Ah, you know, check with the front desk,” she said vaguely with a laugh.<br />
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“Actually, I was hoping for your number.”<br />
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“I’m sure you were,” she said over her shoulder.<br />
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“Really? You’re just blowing me off, huh?”<br />
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She stopped and pivoted. He sounded dead sincere now, which surprised her. “Wow, yeah. About that...I’m, uh, not exactly dating right now.”<br />
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<i>Even if I were, I’d stay way the hell away from a player like you.</i></div>
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<span style="vertical-align: baseline;">Her smile wobbled. This shouldn’t be so hard.<br /><br />He shoved his hands in the pockets of his gym shorts, which few men could pull off and still look manly. He nailed it. She realized with a stab of guilt he was trying to hide the bulge of his erection. “Sure, I get it. No problem.”<br /><br />Had she actually hurt his feelings? Impossible. He was a player.<br /><br />She hadn’t meant to be a tease. She ought to be spanked.<br /><br /><i>By him. </i>Just before he took her hard from behind…</span></div>
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Theresa Roemer is an author, media personality, entrepreneur and small business owner based in Houston, Texas. <br />
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Theresa’s passion for health started at a young age. As a child Theresa was diagnosed with rheumatic fever many times over, which caused her to have a heart murmur; she was sickly and her doctors diagnosed her with a lifetime of physical constraints. Determined to prove the doctors wrong, Theresa began her lifelong journey to stay active, healthy, and physically fit. Theresa took the U.S. Open title in bodybuilding at the age of 40, and held the titles of Mrs. Houston U.A., Mrs. Texas U.A., and was the 1st runner up for Mrs. United America concurrently. <br />
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Theresa’s passion for health inspired her to write Naked in 30 Days to empower women to feel as vibrant and healthy at 45 and beyond as they did at 25. This is her first work of fiction.<br />
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Visit Theresa on <a href="http://www.theresaroemer.com/">www.theresaroemer.com</a>, Instagram Theresa_Roemer, Facebook Theresa Roemer LLC and Twitter @TheresaRoemer</div>
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USA TODAY BESTSELLING AUTHOR RENEE ROSE is a naughty wordsmith who writes kinky romance novels. Named Eroticon USA's Next Top Erotic Author in 2013, she has also won The Romance Reviews Best Historical Romance, and Spanking Romance Reviews' Best Historical, Best Erotic, Best Ageplay and favorite author. She's hit #1 on Amazon in the Erotic Paranormal, Western and Sci-fi categories<a href="http://www.romancebeat.com/">.</a> She also pens BDSM stories under the name Darling Adams. To receive FREE Renee Rose books, <a href="http://owned.gr8.com/">click here.</a><br />
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<a href="http://www.reneeroseromance.com/">Blog</a> |<a href="https://twitter.com/ReneeRoseAuthor"> Twitter</a> |<a href="https://www.facebook.com/reneeroseromance"> Facebook</a> |<a href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5895073.Renee_Rose"> Goodreads</a> |<a href="http://pinterest.com/reneeroseauthor/"> Pinterest</a> |<a href="http://instagram.com/reneeroseromance"> Instagram</a></div>
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awhit333http://www.blogger.com/profile/01542601928235649986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1918948667970999096.post-36710933589035386442016-12-20T14:28:00.002-06:002016-12-20T14:28:17.213-06:00Two awesome books by R.S. Grey are on sale now! <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC8NzQ9fs7ziDhXHXp0jHgsjMLfsyG3IG7juEydoJYCbn4xae2oR-PbUhFL27Xve7mYTD2cjPcKaq2BGjxAL3Ei0IPAJ1aa27i9Bk0QQha-G0bL7SV4mf4GsCfvL7SET_NcwLG-6vCdS4/s1600/AllureSale.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgC8NzQ9fs7ziDhXHXp0jHgsjMLfsyG3IG7juEydoJYCbn4xae2oR-PbUhFL27Xve7mYTD2cjPcKaq2BGjxAL3Ei0IPAJ1aa27i9Bk0QQha-G0bL7SV4mf4GsCfvL7SET_NcwLG-6vCdS4/s640/AllureSale.png" width="640" /></a></div>
<br />awhit333http://www.blogger.com/profile/01542601928235649986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1918948667970999096.post-19693551335051352672016-12-20T05:30:00.000-06:002016-12-20T14:14:55.930-06:00Breathless by Georgia Lyn Hunter- Release Tour<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b>BREATHLESS</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;">Players to Men series</span>
<span style="font-size: large;">by Georgia Lyn Hunter</span></div>
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<b>Genre:</b> Contemporary Romance<br />
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<i>When the fairy tale life you believed in falls apart, there is nothing else left…</i><br />
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Or so I thought, until Trouble, wrapped in one hunky body and a sinful smile promising untold pleasure of the carnal kind, lands on my doorstep. Despite what my body demands or the fact that I’m irresistibly drawn to him, I’d been burned too deeply to dare try again. Besides, Max Meade-Sinclair is my younger sister’s best friend—and totally off-limits.<br />
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Ila Logan’s coolly dismissive manner captures and challenges me from the moment our paths cross. What I want, I usually get. A little thing like age isn’t going to stop me. Neither are the men who disappear into her secluded room. However, she proves a difficult opponent who leaves me falling for her a little more at each encounter.<br />
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This tempestuous woman is mine, but to win her, I must dig deeper, and show her that beneath my brawling, player facade exists a man who would go to the ends of the earth to make her happy.</div>
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But surviving my own dark past may just destroy the fragile bond growing between us…<br />
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“Why are you here? Don’t you have a client to see to?”<br />
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A sigh escaped her. “Max, this isn’t working. Kate, my boss, has a place available. It’s not very expensive—”<br />
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“Of course,” I drawled and took another pull from my smoke. “Easier to get rid of me than face the truth, isn’t it, Ila? Be honest with yourself for once. You want me, too, and you’re too fucking scared to admit it.”<br />
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Her gaze shifted away from mine and then came back—a hint of desperation in her gaze. “I’m not scared.”<br />
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“Really?” Anger edged my cold tone. “Then why so anxious to get rid of me? Running, Ila?”<br />
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“I’m not running—don’t you want a decent bed to sleep on instead of a couch? And stop calling me that!”<br />
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She didn’t like me calling her Ila? Satisfaction welled. I’d rattled her. “It’s your name, isn’t it?”</div>
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Her mouth tightened. “Not the way you say it.”<br />
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“It’s odd. My sleeping arrangements never came up until I wanted to rearrange your <i>client’s</i> face.”</div>
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“You can’t be comfortable there.”<br />
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I ignored that. “Just how do I say your name, <i>Logan</i>?” I lowered my tone to a sensual purr. “And I don’t care where I sleep so long as it’s near you.”<br />
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The mouth I was dying to taste again opened then closed. I’d never hidden the fact that I wanted her.<br />
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“Stop it.” A whisper.<br />
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I took another pull on my smoke. “Why?”<br />
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“God, Max, must I spell this out for you—”<br />
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“That you’re older?”<br />
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A deep sigh left her. “Yes, that’s part of it.”<br />
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What? I was too young to even consider the type of relationship she’d probably want?<br />
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Grasping her hand, I pressed it against my chest. “Whatever is happening inside here tells me differently. When I think of him naked around you, I want to kill him.”<br />
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Her lips trembled. She eased her hand from under mine. “Max, don’t make this any harder than it is—”<br />
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Her eyes widened. Bet she hadn’t meant to let <i>that</i> slip.<br />
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Hell, I could be a nice guy and let it go. I could even take up the offer of whatever poky box of an apartment she’d so sweetly offered. But I wasn’t nice. I always walked where I shouldn’t. And when it came to this gorgeous and insecure girl who thought she was too old for me, I had no qualms about not being fucking <i>nice</i>.<br />
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“So you think it’s wrong, me wanting you?”<br />
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“Yes.”<br />
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The fact that she said it without hesitation twisted my stomach.<br />
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“And I have a date. Tomorrow,” she added.<br />
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Irritation surged through me. No more, I was done playing.<br />
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“I see.” I eyed her for a second. “Okay, then. One kiss. Can’t hurt, right, with you dating someone else?” I killed the end bit of my smoke on a nearby wrought iron table and tossed it away. “And I want it all, Logan, since it’s probably the only thing I’ll get from you.” Sliding my hands into my pockets, I rocked on my heels and waited.<br />
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“You’re crazy!” She spun and headed back for the stairs.<br />
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“Scared?” My soft word floated in the night. Accusing.<br />
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She stopped dead. A low growl escaping her, she pivoted and stomped back to me. Grabbing my tee, she yanked me down to her and slammed her mouth on mine.<br />
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It wasn’t the kiss I wanted, but it pierced me all the way to my hardened heart.<br />
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Before she pulled away, I slid my arms around her waist. “Not so fast. That’s not the kiss I want—this is.”<br />
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I’ve been creating stories from the moment I could string two words together. No matter the tale, it always has romance woven through them. Yes, I'm a hopeless romantic.<br />
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When I’m not writing or plotting new books, I like to read, travel, painting, or troll flea markets where I usually buy things I might never actually use because they're so pretty.<br />
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After working in a few jobs all art related, a chosen career as a fashion designer, then an art teacher, I finally found my passion four years ago: writing. There really is no other job I’d rather do.<br />
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Oh, and I live in the beautiful country of South Africa.<br />
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awhit333http://www.blogger.com/profile/01542601928235649986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1918948667970999096.post-61352208376222224152016-12-19T05:30:00.002-06:002016-12-20T14:31:55.050-06:00Do You Believe by L.Chapman- Holiday Blitz! <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: blue; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><b>Do You Believe - Believe #3.5</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">For Megan, the time she has long dreamed of is finally here. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Come watch the power of friendship evolve and discover how significant a true family bond is. You’ll see Mark and Megan as they lead little Lucy through the joys of the holiday season. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">With the impending holiday just a day away, there are a lot of enjoyable family events planned. Come and relish this special day with the entire gang from the Believe Series.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> Get to know the characters you’ve grown to love even more, while meeting new, fresh faces at the same time. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">For the Believe family, will they all get the Christmas they’ve been dreaming of?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">UK <span style="background-color: white; color: #111111;">http://amzn.eu/0ds749q</span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">US <span style="background-color: white; color: #111111;">http://a.co/63xjOZo</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="color: red; font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><b><u>Other Books In The Believe Series </u></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: blue; font-size: large;"><b>Trust - Believe #1</b></span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Lovely Megan Madden has lost her faith in men. But this has
not kept her from the joy of her best friend's up coming wedding. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">While in
London shopping for the big event, Megan's life takes a surprising turn when a
quick drink brings changes to her life she never saw coming. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Join in the roller
coaster of emotions Megan must endure as she attempts to regain her TRUST.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Who knew a quiet drink could change your life?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>UK</b> <span style="background-color: white; color: #111111;">http://amzn.eu/3e8RfDI</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #111111;"><b>US</b> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #111111;">http://a.co/f0a0XoG</span></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxx45wWjXTJzQ2iTRC-SQBxn7sRMZPMGy0kyhjGZZWiHjMohx-rrjRHr402E5wdP4-aGJ_sj2tokVS7yf2oYVkXwZlS5N5FTKNrT_zJpgYYIXp_ACxn6F1resTsVcHXIT4iFBFyfc9VmE/s1600/380764453.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjxx45wWjXTJzQ2iTRC-SQBxn7sRMZPMGy0kyhjGZZWiHjMohx-rrjRHr402E5wdP4-aGJ_sj2tokVS7yf2oYVkXwZlS5N5FTKNrT_zJpgYYIXp_ACxn6F1resTsVcHXIT4iFBFyfc9VmE/s1600/380764453.jpg" /></span></a><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="color: blue; font-size: large;"><b> </b></span><b style="color: blue; font-size: x-large;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Veiled - Believe #2</span></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Jenny has always wanted a fairytale life: the perfect house, her own Prince Charming and the wedding to go with it.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">After a five year engagement Jenny and her fiance Rich are counting down to the "Big Day"... <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">And lets not forget one hell of a Hen Party For Jenny her life as the perfect wife is all she has ever wanted but secrets are never far away... <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Will Jenny make it to her own fairytale wedding... <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">All will be revealed in "Veiled</span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">UK <span style="background-color: white; color: #111111;">http://amzn.eu/iD8Eiiv</span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="background-color: white; color: #111111;">US </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #111111;">http://a.co/arITkeC</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b><span style="color: blue; font-size: large;">Redeemed - Believe #3</span></b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Megan’s life has been anything but simple. She’s always
lived amongst chaos, and for once, she just wants it all to stop. After years
of lies and agony, will anything work out for her? <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">In this heart-gripping third installment of the Believe
series, watch Megan discover love again, and not just any love, but one worth
fighting for, one that makes her feel different, cherished, wanted, and
treasured. For Megan, Mark is the one to give her all of that and has brought a
new meaning to her life and a new reason to live. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The old saying, "Nothing comes easy in life,"
holds true to this story, which is packed with unexpected twists and turns. For
Megan and Mark, it pushes their love to new heights. Will the love they share
for each other keep their relationship strong, or does Megan’s string of
erroneous luck run out?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">UK <span style="background-color: white; color: #111111;"> </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #111111;">http://amzn.eu/emBM6Do</span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-large;"><u>Believe Series Box Set<o:p></o:p></u></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">L. Chapman was born in and continues to live in North Yorkshire, United Kingdom. She has spent most of her life helping others. At one time, a DJ for a special needs club. Blending her love of helping others and her love of children, L dreams to one day own and operate a childcare nursery that will help mainstream special needs children with others.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><span style="line-height: 18.2000007629395px;">In the rare </span><span class="text_exposed_hide" style="line-height: 18.2000007629395px;">...</span><span class="text_exposed_show" style="line-height: 18.2000007629395px;">times that L. is not working to help others or maniacally writing, she enjoys making a mess of things while creating beautifully detailed greeting cards. She spends time relaxing with family, friends, and good books. L. loves to travel and has been to many places in the United Kingdom; her favorite places all involve the ocean. She hopes to one day share a kiss with her happily-ever-after in the romantic shadow of the Eiffel Tower. Should she ever get over her fear of flying, those kisses may be shared in the shadows of the Egyptian Pyramids.</span></span></div>
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<span class="text_exposed_show" style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Ever the fussy eater, L. has never once tasted peanut butter, and she despises coffee. If you should feel the need to bribe her, it is suggested that you bring chocolate, as that is one of her known weaknesses.</span><br />
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<br />awhit333http://www.blogger.com/profile/01542601928235649986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1918948667970999096.post-90347751071795003132016-12-19T05:30:00.001-06:002016-12-20T14:23:35.722-06:00Run by Eve Vaughn- Sales Blitz<div style="text-align: center;">
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<strong>Book Title:</strong> Run </div>
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<strong>Author:</strong> Eve Vaughn </div>
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<strong>Genre:</strong> Dark Romance </div>
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<strong>Release Date:</strong> September 6, 2014 </div>
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<strong>Hosted by:</strong> Book Enthusiast Promotions</div>
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<br />
<br />
The Hunter…<br />
Dare O’Shaughnessy had the world in the palm of his hand. A man known and feared for his ruthlessness, his word was law. The last word he ever expected to hear was no. Until he met her.<br />
<br />
The Prey…<br />
Aya Smith despised the ruling class who looked down on hardworking people like her. Sick of being treated unfairly by laws that protect the wealthy and punish the poor, she takes a stand but soon realizes, she might have crossed the wrong man.<br />
<br />
The Game…<br />
Created as a government program to assist in the repopulation of the country when an untested drug wipes out millions of women, The Run eventually evolves into something much more sinister. Now played for the amusement of the super rich, women down on their luck find themselves the prizes of sadistic masters.<br />
<br />
Aya is forced to volunteer for The Run, and Dare, the most sadistic of all, places her in his crosshairs. She will belong to him, body and soul. But when he catches her will she succumb to his mastery, or will he find more trouble than he bargained for?<span style="font-weight: 400;"><br /></span>
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<i>The Hunter meets his Prey……</i><br />
<br />
Dare had anticipated this moment from the time he knew she’d signed on for The Run. Truth be told, he would have preferred that he didn’t have to expend so much energy just to have this one woman in his bed. But somehow, Aya Smith had become a bit of an obsession for him. She’d caught his eye albeit briefly even from across the street. Despite her small stature, she was the kind of person who was larger than life. She had that certain something about her that made people want to be close to her without quite knowing why.<br />
<br />
Sure, she was attractive, but he’d had many beautiful women. It intrigued and angered him at the same time that this slip of a woman had consumed so much of his time since their initial confrontation. She’d taken over his fantasies as he imagined all the dirty things he intended to do to her.<br />
<br />
As he stood before her, taking in the gentle swell of her curve, Dare grew rock hard. He wanted nothing more than to take her right now but he had already decided their first time together would be more than just a quick tumble on the floor. He wanted to properly savor his victory.<br />
<br />
Dare wasn’t used to being thwarted but he couldn’t help but admire how spirited she remained despite her current circumstances. She was a dreg, the bottom of the social order. He had expected someone like to her jump at his original offer but she’d surprised him. Even as he set forth his campaign to show her she’d made a huge mistake, he’d expected her to come to him. And when she didn’t, it had surprised him. Dregs were always looking for handouts. He didn’t think she’d turned him down because of some high moral code she held. She was holding out for a higher prize. Everyone had a price. Even Aya Smith, whether she wanted to admit it or not. She made a worthy adversary, but in the end this was a war he intended to win.<br />
<br />
She scowled at him, tapping her small foot against the hardwood floor. “Are you here to gloat?”<br />
<br />
“I have no need to gloat. I told you what would happen in the beginning. You chose not to believe me.”<br />
<br />
“Well congrat-freakin-lations. What do you want? Shouldn’t I be outside with the rest of the women?”<br />
<br />
“This is one of the perks of being the boss, Aya, I get to do what I want.”<br />
<br />
“Again, congratulations.” She rolled her eyes and folded her arms over her chest, obscuring his view of her chest.<br />
<br />
“You have a lot of attitude for someone in your position, but we’ll fix that. When I have you—”<br />
<br />
“What makes you think I’ll allow myself to be caught? Maybe, I’ll make it out.”<br />
<br />
Dare narrowed his eyes, while he found her spirit amusing to a point, he was getting tired of her incessant backtalk. It was time to remind her of a few things. “Trust me, Aya, you will be caught. And when I have you, not only will you do what I say, you will love it.<span style="font-weight: 400;"><br /></span>
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<div style="text-align: center;">
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New York Time and USA Today Bestselling Author Eve Vaughn has enjoyed creating characters and stories from an early age. As a child she was always getting into mischief, so when she lost her television privileges (which was often), writing as her outlet. Her stories have gotten quite a bit spicier since then! When she's not writing or spending time her family, Eve is reading, baking, traveling or kicking butt in 80's trivia. She loves hearing from her readers. Eve can be contacted through her website at <a href="http://www.evevaughn.com/">www.evevaughn.com</a><br />
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awhit333http://www.blogger.com/profile/01542601928235649986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1918948667970999096.post-56829989116830522472016-12-19T05:30:00.000-06:002016-12-20T14:17:20.429-06:00Two Princes by Victoria Danann- Promo Boost<div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-size: large;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-size: large;"><b>SONS OF SANCTUARY MC</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: medium;">Books 1 & 2</span>
<span style="font-size: large;">by Victoria Danann</span></div>
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<b>Genre:</b> Contemporary Romance
<b>Content Warning:</b> 18+
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<b>Two brothers, unknown to each other, are on a crash trajectory with destiny and two broken hearts.</b><br />
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<i>New York Times and USA Today BESTSELLING AUTHOR, Victoria Danann, dishes up the sizzle with a new biker romance series.</i><br />
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<b>"A hot, sweet romance that will make you laugh and sigh."</b> - Cafeworld<br />
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Brigid was a graduate student at the University of Texas. It wasn't hard getting her thesis approved, but finding a Hill Country motorcycle club willing to give her access to their lifestyle was starting to look impossible. Then she got a lead. A friend of a friend had a cousin with family ties to The Sons of Sanctuary. Perfect. Or so she thought.<br />
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What she wanted was information to prove a scholarly proposition. The last thing she had in mind was falling for one of the members of the club. Especially since she was a feminist academic out to prove that motorcycle clubs are organized according to the same structure as primitive tribal society.<br />
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Brash was standing in line at the H.E.B. Market when his world tipped on its axis. While waiting his turn to check out, his gaze had wandered to the magazine display and settled on the new issue of "NOW". The image on the cover, although GQ'd up in an insanely urbane way, was... him.<br />
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After reading the article, he threw some stuff in a duffle and left his only home, a room at The Sons of Sanctuary clubhouse, with a vague explanation about needing a couple of days away. He left his truck at the Austin airport and caught a plane for New York, on a mission to find a mysterious guy walking around with his face.<br />
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INCLUDES BONUS NOVELLA: <i>Intro to the Sons of Sanctuary MC, A Season in Gemini</i><br />
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<b>"She couldn't live in my world. I couldn't live in hers."</b> - Brant Fornight<br />
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<i>Get your copy TODAY and find out why readers call Two Princes</i> <b>awesome sexy, fantabulous, and sentimental in the juiciest way!</b><br />
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“Sir?” Brash Fornight gradually became aware that someone behind him in the grocery checkout line was trying to get his attention. “Sir?” He refocused and glanced behind him. The woman leaning on a cart overflowing with chip bags and cookie boxes nodded toward the cashier indicating that it was his turn to move forward. Brash looked her in the eye and had to give her props. Most people wouldn’t have the balls to try to herd a guy wearing Sons of Sanctuary MC leather.<br />
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The club employed a woman who cooked and did grocery shopping several times a week as part of her job description, but Brash didn’t like to explain his relentless craving for peanuts and he liked being teased about it even less. He didn’t know whether it was the Vitamin B or the fat or just because he liked the taste, but he couldn’t imagine going a day without them.<br />
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That’s how he came to be standing statue still In the grocery checkout line, being prompted by some woman with more nerve than sense. While he was waiting, his eyes drifted over the magazine display and settled on the cover of “NOW”, on the Most Eligible Bachelor edition no less. The debonair figure staring back was wearing Brash’s own face and body. He looked different with short hair and a four thousand dollar suit with the shirt fashionably open at the neckline, but the similarity was inescapable.<br />
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On impulse he grabbed the magazine and tossed it onto the conveyor belt with his week’s stash of peanuts.<br />
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He stuffed the bags into the saddlebags of his bike and roared toward home, nervously tapping his fingers on handlebars at red lights, riding on shoulders to keep from slowing down. He was anxious to get to the privacy of his own room and read about Branach St. Germaine.<br />
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Two beers, one jar of peanuts, and one “NOW” article later, Brash was sitting on the edge of his bed looking at the wall, seeing nothing but his own heavy thoughts. He pulled out his phone, looked up a website, and waited on hold for ten minutes to hear the time of the next flight from Austin to New York.<br />
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There was a flight to Newark in a little over three hours. He looked at his watch and calculated the time it would take to drive from Dripping Springs at that time of day. As he booked the flight, he stood up, walked to the small closet, grabbed a duffel bag, and began shoving stuff into it. Ten minutes later, he closed his door and locked it, threw the duffel over his shoulder, and headed straight for the office downstairs. He dropped the duffel on the hallway floor beside the closed door and knocked.<br />
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“Yeah?” Brash looked inside, glad that his dad was by himself, and stepped in. “What’s up?”<br />
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“I’m takin’ personal time, Pop. Gonna be gone for a couple of days.”<br />
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“What the hell is ‘personal time’?”<br />
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The gruffness made Brash smile. “It means I’m not gonna be here if you call and I’m not tellin’ you why.”<br />
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The Sons of Sanctuary President looked up at Brash, over the top of his readers, and narrowed his eyes. “You got a secret?”<br />
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“Everybody’s got secrets.”<br />
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Brandon Fornight studied his son for a minute. “True enough. Is it the kind of secret that could affect this club?”<br />
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Brash shook his head. “Don’t see how.”<br />
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“Well, then. See you… When did you say you’d be back?”<br />
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“I didn’t.”<br />
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“Bein’ purposefully vague, are you?”<br />
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Brash grinned. “That’s why they call it personal time. But I expect to be back Friday.”<br />
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“You gonna have your phone with you?” When Brash nodded, Bran looked back down at his ledger in a deliberately dismissive gesture. “Well, get outta here then.”<br />
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Brash parked his bike in the airplane hangar. The structure had already been on the property when the club had bought it and turned it into a compound twenty years earlier. They used part of it for vehicle maintenance and repair and part for parking.<br />
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Some of the guys who were working looked over and shot curious glances his way when Brash threw his duffel into his pickup and started it up, but it wasn’t their way to ask questions. The Sons figured that if somebody wanted you to know something, they’d tell you.<br />
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Brash took a cab to a midtown hotel, wondering all the way why human beings would choose to live in such a place. As he slid his credit card across the hotel counter to the agent on duty, he glanced at the name, Brandon Fornight. It seemed unlikely that it was a coincidence that that the mysterious look-alike’s first name began with the same four letters. He ordered room service and pulled out his laptop.<br />
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Getting intel on the guy didn’t take advanced ops. Within an hour Brash knew where Brannach St. Germaine worked, what kind of car he drove, what kind of women he dated, who his tailor was, and where he liked to dine. There was no shortage of photos online, but the one that grabbed his attention wasn’t one of the many with starlets or debutantes on his arm. It was the one taken with his arm around his mother as they were arriving together for some red carpet fundraiser. Brash had an almost irresistible compulsion to reach up and touch her face on the screen in front of him.<br />
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The knock on the door signaled that room service had arrived. It cost a fortune, but looked and tasted like shit. So he closed the computer and went out for a walk to clear his head and find something edible.<br />
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<b>Brand takes a job nobody wants to earn the respect of club members. Being third generation SSMC doesn't go very far in biker cred.</b><br />
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<b>Camden Carmichael is running from a psycho ex. Lucky for her that her father has the means to hire Sanctuary Security to protect her until the divorce is finalized.</b><br />
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<b>Two strangers set out on a road trip together. At the end of it, neither will ever be the same again.</b><br />
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<i>New York Times and USA Today bestselling author, Victoria Danann, adds a sizzling and surprising second book to the SSMC contemporary romance series.</i></div>
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<b>*Please note this book contains dark material that may be unwelcome by sensitive readers.*</b></div>
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Brandon St. Germaine was at the top of the billionaire playboy heap when he learned about a side of the family that had been kept in secret. He left New York, moved to Texas, and took most of the corporate empire with him, restructuring so that he could spend time learning about the Texas motorcycle club branch of his family that had formed its own kind of dynasty.<br />
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His dad, president of the club his grandfather founded, spent three decades converting the club's income sources to legitimate business dealings. One of the biggest earners was the security service. When a ridiculously wealthy, but justifiably frightened father hires the SSMC to protect his daughter from the psycho she's divorcing, Brand gets the job.<br />
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Get it today and find out why people are calling this series <b>heart-throbbing!</b><br />
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Brant shrugged a big shoulder. “Too much green to turn away even if I need to do it myself. Arnold said the dad could have taken out a contract for what he’s paying us. And he’s right. It’s a <i>chunk</i> of change.”<br />
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When Arnold had blurted that out in meeting, he’d gotten several awkward minutes of silent stares from around the club table. They were bikers, but they weren’t killers. Even back in the days when they operated outside the law, they hadn’t been killers. At present they were businessmen who happened to like bikes and hold a certain disdain for authority and rules of all kinds.<br />
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“What’s involved? Pick her up and fly her here?”<br />
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Brant laughed and shook his head. “If that was all there was to it, guys wouldn’t be ducking around corners avoiding me. The man has hired the club to execute the disappearance of his daughter and keep her in the wind until after the divorce is final.”<br />
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“Why does she need to disappear until after the divorce is finalized?”<br />
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“The soon-to-be ex-husband is dangerous and greedy. The girl’s father thinks he may try to have her killed before the divorce goes through. He suspects this man of devising some clever means that would give him an airtight alibi while also making him eligible to inherit her trust fund.”<br />
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“Who is it?”<br />
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“The client?”<br />
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“Yes.”<br />
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“Severn Carmichael.” Brand’s eyebrows went up and he whistled. “I suspected you’d know who he is.”<br />
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“Our enterprises have touched circuits now and then.”<br />
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“He know who you are?”<br />
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“He probably knows who I am, just like I know who he is, but we’ve never met.”<br />
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Brant seemed satisfied with that. “What do you think?”<br />
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“Let me make sure I’ve got this straight. I need to pick her up somewhere in New York, bring her to you, and make sure she’s not seen or followed on the way.”<br />
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“In a nutshell.”<br />
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“What aren’t you telling me? Why isn’t it safer to shelter in place wherever she is?”<br />
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“He’s scared. Really scared. Thinks this guy can get through any defense he can mount.”<br />
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Brandon nodded thoughtfully. “When did you tell him we’d get her?”<br />
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“Day after tomorrow.”<br />
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“Day after tomorrow? Forty eight hours to come up with a plan and make arrangements to be away from the office?”<br />
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“Security will work with you on a plan. Taking time off work? Come on. You’re the boss, aren’t you? You want the job or not? If you do, I’ll call a meeting and get a vote on patching you.”<br />
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Brandon hadn’t realized how badly he wanted that until it was offered. He’d thought it was something that would never be within his grasp, but suddenly there it was. He didn’t really have a choice. Once in a lifetime offer to get the only thing he wanted that he didn’t already have?<br />
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<i>Hell, yes.</i><br />
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“Hell, yes.”<br />
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Brant smiled as they stood up. He slapped Brandon on the shoulder and it made Brand’s heart ache for the years he’d missed not having his father in his life.<br />
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“I’ll call you later with the verdict,” Brant said.<br />
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They mounted their rides and ignited the engines. The noise made all the patrons of Chuy’s turn and look. The men wished they were on those bikes. The women wished they were sitting behind the men on those bikes.<br />
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Brant turned west on Bee Caves. Brandon saluted as he turned east.<br />
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New York Times bestselling author of thirteen romances. Victoria's Knights of Black Swan series won BEST PARANORMAL ROMANCE SERIES for the past THREE YEARS IN A ROW. Reviewers Choice Awards, The Paranormal Romance Guild.</div>
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Her paranormal romances come with uniquely fresh perspectives on "imaginary" creatures, characters, and themes. She adds a dash of scifi, a flourish of fantasy, enough humor to make you laugh out loud, and, occasionally, enough steam to make you squirm in your chair. Her heroines are independent femmes with flaws and minds of their own whether they are aliens, witches, demonologists, werewolves, hybrids, psychics, or past life therapists. Her heroes are hot and hunky, but they also have brains, character, and good manners... usually.<br />
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The rich characterizations come from being a lifelong student of behavior, casually, and a serious student of behavior academically. She also studied comparative religion, myths, and Dark Ages history.<br />
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Victoria lives in The Woodlands, Texas with her husband and a very smart, mostly black German Shepherd dog.<br />
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awhit333http://www.blogger.com/profile/01542601928235649986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1918948667970999096.post-60086583701290491482016-12-18T05:30:00.000-06:002016-12-20T14:21:43.307-06:00If Tomorrow Never Comes by Sophie Slade- Cover Reveal<div style="text-align: center;">
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<strong>Book Title:</strong> If Tomorrow Never Comes (Part 1 & 2) </div>
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<strong>Author:</strong> Sophie Slade </div>
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<strong>Genre:</strong> Erotic Contemporary Romance </div>
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<strong>Release Date: </strong>January 15, 2016<strong> </strong></div>
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<b>Cover Credit for If Tomorrow Never Comes, by: Sophie Slade: </b></div>
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<b>Alyssa Collins Pic: </b></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;"><strong>Photographer:</strong> Jamie Saveal Photography </span></div>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;"><strong>Model:</strong> Nycole Craft
</span><b>Cover Design: </b><span style="font-weight: 400;">TNT Book Cover Designs </span></div>
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<b>Logan pic and back cover pic:</b><span style="font-weight: 400;"> Depositphotos.com </span></div>
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<strong>Hosted by:</strong> Book Enthusiast Promotions</div>
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<h2 style="text-align: center;">
Part 1</h2>
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Part 2</h2>
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On her way to Nashville to try her hand at a singing career, Alyssa Collins meets Logan Ambrose, her soul mate in every way. Not only is he a great singer and guitar player, he has a down-to-earth personality to die for. Soon, he proposes and they make plans for the future, but everything changes in an instant. A month later, she wakes from a coma only to learn that her life has changed forever. <br />
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Lost and distraught, Alyssa tries to make sense of her life. Needing to make a change, she puts her singing career behind her and finds herself in law school. Ten years later, she is a lawyer at a prestigious firm. <br />
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When Alyssa goes to New York for a political fund raiser, something happens that changes her life again. With more questions than answers, can she find it in herself to go on with her life … if tomorrow never comes?<span style="font-weight: 400;"><br /></span>
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<b> If Tomorrow Comes, Part 1: </b><br />
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“The hell with it,” I said as I screwed up my courage and pulled the door abruptly open.<br />
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The music immediately rushed to my ears as I stepped in and shut the door gently behind me. The lead guitarist’s fingers flew over the neck of his electric guitar, sending a thrill through me as the music penetrated my soul. Beside him, the bass and rhythm guitar players kept time with the beat of the drummer, as if it were no effort. They were good. Really good.<br />
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The drummer looked up. Eyeing me from across the room, he immediately stopped. “May I help you?”<br />
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The others stopped and looked up. It was only natural that they didn’t know me. <br />
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“It’s nice to meet you,” I said, setting my guitar case onto a nearby table. I pulled out my guitar and slid the strap across my shoulders. Then, I picked up a pick.<br />
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“So, you’re part of the band, too?” the lead guitarist asked, laughing without humor. “Craig told me that it would just be us.” He ran his fingers through his shoulder-length blond streaked hair and shook his head. The rhythm guitarist rolled his eyes at the blond, as if used to his objections.<br />
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I suppressed a smile and let my fingers fly down the neck of my plugged in acoustic guitar. <br />
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The bass player nodded his approval. “Well, you’ve got to hand it to her. She’s good.”<br />
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The rhythm guitarist suppressed a smile.<br />
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The blond laughed as he turned back to me. “Do you sing, too?”<br />
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I nodded, but didn’t say a word as my fingers flew over my guitar. But this time, I found a rhythm. I looked over at the drummer, and he bit his lower lip, suppressing a grin, having recognized me. I gave him a wink as I shook my head slightly, and then looked back at the lead guitarist. <br />
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“So, let’s see what you got.”<br />
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He laughed so hard that he dabbed at the tears in his eyes. “Really?” he asked in disbelief, gesturing down the length of my guitar. <br />
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I let my fingers run up the neck of my guitar as it screamed in answer. <br />
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“Okay,” he said, nodding his head as his fingers flew over the neck of his guitar and came abruptly to a stop. “Let’s see what you’ve got, little girl.”<br />
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I raised an eyebrow, taking him in. Behind him, the brunette drummer bit his lip and lowered his head as he shook his head, as if knowing that the blond would soon regret his actions and comments. He didn’t say a word.<br />
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One corner of my lips curled into a sly smile. Then, I turned back to Blondie. “You first.”<br />
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He nodded his gratitude, and the others laid out as Blondie’s fingers flew over the neck of his guitar and then down to the base. A moment later, his rift came to an end as a self-satisfied smirk spread across his face.<br />
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“Impressive!” I said, and, without missing a beat, immediately launched into an impressive rift of my own. When my rift came to an end, the other musicians clapped loudly as they whooped and hollered. <br />
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The rhythm guitar player laughed as he shook his head and smoothed back long strands of light brown hair into his ponytail. “I think she smoked you, man,” he said with a pronounced Irish brogue. <br />
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Blondie’s lips formed a straight line. And, without saying another word, he launched into another rift, this time mixing in a little rhythm and blues in with his lead line. A moment later, his rift came to an end. He folded his arms across his chest. “Now, beat that.”<br />
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I lifted my eyebrows. “Well, it’ll be hard. That’s for sure,” I said, matter of fact, as I set down my acoustic. “Mind if I borrow your guitar?” <br />
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He handed it to me with a self-satisfied smirk. “Go for it.”<br />
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I played around a bit with his electric guitar, getting a feel for it first. Although I preferred playing my own guitar, there are certain things that you can only do on an electric guitar. “As I said, that’ll be hard to beat, but here it goes.” I launched into an intricate rift, including some old-school rock, followed by jazz, and then launched into some contemporary rock. Then, I played the guitar behind the back of my head. After a few bars, I brought the guitar down in front of me and played a contemporary country rift and ended with a high-pitched note at the base of the neck. I jumped into the air and landed, bringing our battle to a close.<br />
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Silence filled the air. When I looked around, their mouths were open as I handed his guitar back to him.<br />
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“It’s a great guitar, but you need a new G-string. Probably because the key nozzle is a bit loose. You can have that tightened up and it’ll save you from using so many strings. Also, the nut bar at the end needs tightening, too. But, all in all, I like it.” When I handed it back to Blondie, his mouth was still open.<br />
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A slow clap came from behind me. Craig had entered the warehouse, dressed in a leather suit coat and black leather pants, instead of his usual business attire. He still wore his signature white dress shirt, but he looked good with it unbuttoned at the neck. I turned away, trying not to notice. <br />
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“Alyssa, that was truly impressive,” he said after he stopped clapping. <br />
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<b>If Tomorrow Never Comes, Part 2: </b><br />
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“Just as the song came to an end, it felt as if eyes were watching me. I looked over Curt’s shoulder and someone who looked like Logan was watching me from across the room, bringing me back to reality. <br />
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“Oh my God!” I said as I backed quickly away from Curt. “I’m sorry, but I can’t do this!”<br />
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A crease formed between Curt’s eyes. “What? Dance?”<br />
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I bit my lower lip. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.” I started backing away toward the stage. “It was nice to meet you.”<br />
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“May I have your number?” he asked, holding out his hand as he watched me hurry away.<br />
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Casey was still going strong on the stage and the crowd was in the palm of her hands.<br />
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I bit my lower lip and turned to one of the four bodyguards standing in the wings as tears welled up in my eyes. “I hate to do this, but can you make sure that Casey gets back to our hotel safely? Something has come up and I have to go.”<br />
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“Sure,” the leader said. “No problem at all. We’ll make sure that she gets back safely.”<br />
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“Thank you,” I said as I pulled my clutch under my arm. “Please apologize to her for me and tell her that I’ll see her back at the hotel.”<br />
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He nodded. “I will.” He took a step closer and looked into my eyes. “Is everything okay, miss?”<br />
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I nodded, suddenly feeling the need to escape, to run. “Yes, I’m fine, but I must go.”<br />
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Without another word, I hurried down the steps and out the side emergency door, trying to wrap my head around what had just happened as tears streamed down my cheeks. It couldn’t have been Logan, could it? This guy was a dead ringer for him, but a little older, more attractive—if that was possible—mature. My heels clicked against the sidewalk when I realized that there was another set of footsteps behind me.<br />
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“Alyssa, wait!” <br />
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<a href="http://www.bookenthusiastpromotions.com/?attachment_id=29543" rel="attachment wp-att-29543" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img alt="" class=" wp-image-29543 alignleft" src="http://www.bookenthusiastpromotions.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/12/Sophie-slade-logo_-300x300.jpg" height="223" width="223" /></a><span style="font-weight: 400;">Sophie Slade is the author of Erotic Romance. She started writing TOUCHED BY A VAMPIRE, never intending to publish it. However, her husband read it, loved it, and encouraged her to finish writing the book. Now, she is the author of TOUCHED BY A VAMPIRE and CROSSROADS, books 1 and 2 in her ETERNALLY YOURS SERIES. The next book in the series, TO LOVE A VAMPIRE, is coming soon. The stand-alone book IF TOMORROW NEVER COMES, Parts 1 and 2, is coming in January. Sophie has a Bachelor of Arts in Communications, News Editorial sequence, from the University of Tennessee at Martin, and a minor in English. Sophie is a full-time author and resides in Florida with her husband and children.</span>
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awhit333http://www.blogger.com/profile/01542601928235649986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1918948667970999096.post-48685312396950991532016-12-09T15:47:00.000-06:002016-12-09T15:47:01.568-06:00Silver Bells by Jacquie Biggar- Release Tour<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb0MlfzwRYOc5Qns3Qw6K-G58nJ7OE9RjvkoBy7_p5Mte7xXE1AqZwKgnfhUZ9nfPKfNbYpu67hDWYcLIQv2xYqkf-PM6QmGTvmcKscOW9DR2Tam5l1WuP2oIoimg9M0vDjDFldPkhDrI/s1600/release+banner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgb0MlfzwRYOc5Qns3Qw6K-G58nJ7OE9RjvkoBy7_p5Mte7xXE1AqZwKgnfhUZ9nfPKfNbYpu67hDWYcLIQv2xYqkf-PM6QmGTvmcKscOW9DR2Tam5l1WuP2oIoimg9M0vDjDFldPkhDrI/s640/release+banner.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: x-large;"><b>SILVER BELLS</b></span></center>
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by <span style="font-size: large;">Jacquie Biggar</span></center>
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<b>Genre</b>: Holiday Romance</center>
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Mystery writer, Joel Carpenter, has no time for romance. He has a deadline to meet, and too many skeletons in his closet to trust the slightly spinny artist renting his house.<br />
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Christy Taylor has her hands full dealing with an ailing business and a diabetic daughter, she doesn't need the temptation that is her landlord, Joel Carpenter.<br />
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Can a Christmas wish bring two stubborn souls together and give a little girl the gift she wants most?</div>
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A family of her own.<br />
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A pair of dark brown hiking boots—size enormous—came into her line of sight and her heart skipped a beat. Most people on the island were friendly and kind but she was a woman on her own and it was rapidly getting dark. How stupid.<br />
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She tightened her grip on the bag and cursing the fact she’d been so irresponsible, slowly rose to her feet, her gaze following the long, clean line of jean-clad legs, dark cotton shirt, tucked in and belted at the waist, open leather jacket, and chiseled jawline covered in a day’s worth of stubble. Glittering eyes stared at her from a deeply tanned, aloof-looking face.<br />
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“Quit following me.” The voice matched his visage, cold, harsh, and unforgiving.<br />
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So much for her fantasy hero, Christy stiffened and glared. “Kind of full of yourself, aren’t you?”<br />
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He leaned back and crossed his arms, his stance unforgiving. And to think she’d found him intriguing. Ha, more like infuriating.<br />
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“So it’s just a coincidence that every time I turn around, there you are?” He lifted a hand and she flinched. He hesitated, then rubbed the back of his neck. The rasping sound along with the backdrop of the swishing waves made her feel—restless.<br />
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“Look, I don’t do interviews, okay? Not even for cute little pixies. Tell your boss, next time I’ll call the cops.”<br />
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Incredulity overrode her curiosity. “Are you serious? I have as much right to be on this beach as you do, buddy. Trust me, you’re not half as fascinating as you seem to think you are.”<br />
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In between one breath and the next, Mr. Personality seized the bag out of her grip and delved inside.</div>
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“Hey, give that back,” she cried, trying to wrestle it out of his grasp.<br />
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“If you have nothing to hide…” He pulled the drawings free and turned his wall of a back on her.<br />
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Christy couldn’t believe this was happening. Adrenaline zipped through her body, leaving her feeling more alive than she had in a long while. And it was all due to this… this jerk ripping pages out of her workbook while she stood by helpless to do anything about it. All that work—gone.<br />
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“Please,” she begged, her throat husky. “I meant no harm. I draw for a living. That’s all they are, drawings.”<br />
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At least the shredding stopped.<br />
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He leveled his gaze on her again, as though deciding whether to throw the whole bag out to sea or not. She really hoped not. It had taken months to save up for those pencils. They were the very best and made a huge difference to the level of her workmanship.<br />
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“Please,” she said again.<br />
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He hesitated, then folded the sheets of paper he’d taken and shoved them into his jacket pocket before handing over her bag.<br />
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“Next time you might try asking,” he said dryly. His voice floated on the breeze as he clumped away in those heavy boots. “The answer would’ve been no, by the way.”<br />
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Was it too much to ask that he trip over his enormous—arrogance?<br />
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<span style="font-size: large;"><a href="http://amzn.to/2fNF5B2" target="_blank">Amazon US</a> ✯ <a href="http://mybook.to/SlvrBells" target="_blank">Amazon Int'l</a> ✯ <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/31345617-silver-bells" target="_blank">Goodreads</a></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_fi7X8DCfwH2GB54kwQ5bu_iuK-BvJEhLL8sfoHEBtUNdhFySk5fiiAhf8Ri1SZcZkCjwAMejdLNRhWliR2i4e928Md-rduxufRv5zro723gycKmgnGw6u5aEGRoXYyRC_PFXofqeUrLt/s1600/author.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh_fi7X8DCfwH2GB54kwQ5bu_iuK-BvJEhLL8sfoHEBtUNdhFySk5fiiAhf8Ri1SZcZkCjwAMejdLNRhWliR2i4e928Md-rduxufRv5zro723gycKmgnGw6u5aEGRoXYyRC_PFXofqeUrLt/s200/author.jpg" width="150" /></a></div>
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<a href="http://amzn.to/1VkGwFh" target="_blank">JACQUIE BIGGAR</a> 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.<br />
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She has been blessed with a long, happy marriage and enjoys writing romance novels that end with happily-ever-afters.<br />
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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. 🙂 You can also join her street team on Facebook: <a href="https://www.facebook.com/groups/1051448161572521/" target="_blank">Biggar's Book Buddies</a> and sign up for her <a href="http://eepurl.com/2MFvX" target="_blank">newsletter</a>. Connect with Jacquie on her <a href="http://jacqbiggar.com/" target="_blank">website</a>, <a href="http://facebook.com/jacqbiggar" target="_blank">Facebook</a>, <a href="https://www.goodreads.com/JacquieBiggar" target="_blank">Goodreads</a>, and <a href="http://twitter.com/jacqbiggar" target="_blank">Twitter</a>.<br />
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awhit333http://www.blogger.com/profile/01542601928235649986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1918948667970999096.post-6534515370335476172016-12-09T05:30:00.000-06:002016-12-09T05:30:05.047-06:00A Magical Highland Solstice by Mary Morgan<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1c1K_R6ZULIsThvZ67cLmqbovWJNTiO8asRt8jS1ZlVT0GCdtHJ_6OvibrHCSjYp-OxBIxKUsd4oZIwFrOMdt_5sEdI_nYHMv9LgKBCxRjS14Gime6aKwOagxN7CJhu8DleY_0hXSmtQ/s1600/releasebanner.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="236" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg1c1K_R6ZULIsThvZ67cLmqbovWJNTiO8asRt8jS1ZlVT0GCdtHJ_6OvibrHCSjYp-OxBIxKUsd4oZIwFrOMdt_5sEdI_nYHMv9LgKBCxRjS14Gime6aKwOagxN7CJhu8DleY_0hXSmtQ/s640/releasebanner.jpg" width="640" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: x-large;"><br /></span></b></center>
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<b><span style="font-size: x-large;">A MAGICAL HIGHLAND SOLSTICE</span></b></center>
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spinoff of the Order of the Dragon Knights series</center>
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by <span style="font-size: large;">Mary Morgan</span></center>
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<b>Genre</b>: Scottish Paranormal Time-Travel Romance</center>
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Laird Cormac Murray has witnessed how love destroyed his own father after the death of his mother, and he vows to never take a wife. Yet, when he comes upon a bewildered lass traveling alone, he finds his heart will no longer listen to his mind. In the end, Cormac risks everything to claim the love of a woman not of his time.<br />
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Eve Brannigan loves helping others and baking. After winning a contest, she is stunned to learn that the Clan Murray has requested her assistance to cater to their guests during the holiday season. When a lost path in Scotland leads her to a handsome but gruff Highlander, Eve fights the temptation to allow love to enter her heart for the first time.<br />
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Can the Fae and the magic of the Yule season bring together two souls who have forsaken love? Or will tragedies from the past separate the lovers forever?
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When he recovered, he whistled for his horse. The animal trotted aimlessly to his side. Taking her elbow, he saw her flinch. “Would ye prefer to walk up the steep path to the castle? Or ride?”<br />
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Again, she bit her bottom lip. “I don’t know how to ride a horse.”<br />
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“Truly?”<br />
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She waved him off. “I’m not scared of the animals. I’ve never had the opportunity to learn.”<br />
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“Interesting,” muttered Gordon.<br />
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Cormac smiled. “Dinnae fear. Ye shall ride with me.”<br />
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Giving her no time to protest, he grabbed her around the waist and hauled her up onto Fingal. When he mounted his horse and settled behind her, Cormac felt her body stiffen as he placed an arm around her waist. He leaned next to her ear. Her mass of curls brushed his face, and he inhaled her scent—one of different spices. Lust instantly surged forth, powerful and intense. “Relax,” he urged in a hoarse voice. Though he found it difficult to do so himself.<br />
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He felt her tremble, but she nodded. Giving a tug on the reins, they moved up the path.<br />
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Giving her no time to protest, he grabbed her around the waist and hauled her up onto Fingal. When he mounted his horse and settled behind her, Cormac felt her body stiffen as he placed an arm around her waist. He leaned next to her ear. Her mass of curls brushed his face, and he inhaled her scent—one of different spices. Lust instantly surged forth, powerful and intense. “Relax,” he urged in a hoarse voice. Though he found it difficult to do so himself.<br />
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He felt her tremble, but she nodded. Giving a tug on the reins, they moved up the path.<br />
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With each steady trot, her body swayed and Cormac tried to focus on the road. <i>The castle</i>.<br />
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<i>Fighting in the lists. Bathing in the icy waters of the loch</i>. Anything, but the soft curves of the lass’s body pressing against his own. What was wrong with him? He prided himself on being a man always in control of his emotions—especially his lustful ones. Yet, now he found himself confused, tongue-tied, and his gut twisted into knots.<br />
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So deep in his thoughts, he did not notice Fingal veering off the main road until the lass let out a giggle. She had the most musical sound, and he found himself smiling. Guiding his horse back to the path, he could hear his men doing their best to contain themselves. A glance back confirmed William was coughing loudly and Gordon trying his best not to fall off his horse.<br />
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“I swear Fingal, I am tempted to trade ye in for another horse. Ye must be going blind, or worse, old.”</div>
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His horse let out a large snort.<br />
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Eve clicked her tongue in disapproval. “For shame, Mr. Murray. How cruel. I think he’s a kind animal. Perhaps it’s the man holding the reins who can’t see clearly the path in front of him?”<br />
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The lass was quick with the wit, he mused. “I dinnae ken your word, but ye may call me Cormac.” He leaned near her again. “And I can assure ye, I am nae blind, nor old.”<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00KQPX37Q/" target="_blank">Dragon Knight's Sword</a> ✯ <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00P81C0EA/" target="_blank">Dragon Knight's Medallion</a> ✯ <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B00Y5756TO/" target="_blank">Dragon Knight's Axe</a>
<a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B018MESJ12/" target="_blank">Dragon Knight's Shield</a> ✯ <a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B01HDWY8S2/" target="_blank">Dragon Knight's Ring</a></span></td></tr>
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Scottish paranormal romance author, Mary Morgan resides in Northern California, with her own knight in shining armor. However, during her travels to Scotland, England, and Ireland, she left a part of her soul in one of these countries and vows to return.<br />
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Mary's passion for books started at an early age along with an overactive imagination. She spent far too much time daydreaming and was told quite often to remove her head from the clouds. It wasn't until the closure of Borders Books where Mary worked that she found her true calling--writing romance. Now, the worlds she created in her mind are coming to life within her stories.<br />
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<strong>Book Title:</strong> Celebrate! A Love Brothers Holiday Anthology </div>
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<strong>Authors: </strong> <span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 16px; white-space: pre-wrap;">Liz Crowe, Desiree Holt, Lexi Post, Kate Richards, Cecilia Aubrey & Chris Almeida, Deanndra Hall, Melissa Keir, Mia Koutras, Deelylah Mullin, Anne L. Parks, Paige Prince, Melissa Robitille, Jamie Salisbury, M.A. Stone, Lacey Wolfe</span></div>
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<strong>Genre:</strong> Contemporary Romance </div>
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<strong>Release Date:</strong> December 15, 2016 </div>
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<strong>Hosted by:</strong> Book Enthusiast Promotions</div>
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CELEBRATE with the Love Brothers this holiday season!<br />
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Join 16 best-selling, award winning authors as they bring their own unique stories to this critically acclaimed, Amazon best-selling, family saga-style romance series by Liz Crowe.<br />
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Everything from breweries, wineries, distilleries and race car drivers, to EMTs, Olympic athletes, cops, and serious second chances—PLUS a brand new Love Brothers story from Liz herself—can be found in this amazing collection of novellas from some of your favorite romance story-tellers.<br />
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Available December 15, 2016 everywhere ebooks are sold, the CELEBRATE Anthology is the perfect holiday romance reading treat—and is only around for a limited time.<br />
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Don’t miss your chance to feel the holiday love—Love Brothers style! <span id="docs-internal-guid-29c69f6f-c28c-f7f5-aa40-8c7c9aa2c171"></span><br />
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<b>Liz Crowe</b><br />
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">With stories set in the not-so-common worlds of breweries, on the soccer pitch, in successful real estate offices and at times in exotic locales like Istanbul, Turkey, Liz Crowe books are unique and told with a fresh voice. Her 30-book backlist has something for any reader seeking complex storylines with humor and complete casts of characters that will delight, frustrate and linger in the imagination long after the book is finished. </span>
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<b>Desiree Holt</b><br />
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">A multi-published, award winning, Amazon and USA Today best-selling author, Desiree Holt has produced more than 200 titles and won many awards. She has received an EPIC E-Book Award, the Holt Medallion and many others including Author After Dark’s Author of the Year. She has been featured on </span><i><span style="font-weight: 400;">CBS Sunday Morning</span></i><span style="font-weight: 400;"> and in </span><i><span style="font-weight: 400;">The Village Voice</span></i><span style="font-weight: 400;">, </span><i><span style="font-weight: 400;">The Daily Beast, USA Today, The Wall Street Journal, The London Daily Mail. </span></i><span style="font-weight: 400;">She lives in Florida with her cats who insist they help her write her books, and is addicted to football. </span>
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<a href="http://www.desireeholt.com/" target="_blank">Website</a> | <a href="http://desiremeonly.com/" target="_blank">Blog</a> | <a href="https://www.facebook.com/desireeholtauthor" target="_blank">Facebook</a> | <a href="https://twitter.com/desireeholt" target="_blank">Twitter</a></div>
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<b>Lexi Post</b><br />
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Lexi Post is a New York Times and USA Today best-selling author of romance inspired by the classics. She spent years in higher education teaching courses about the classical literature she loved, but romance was her first love. So she married them. From hot paranormals to sizzling cowboys to hunks from out of this world, Lexi provides a sensuous experience with a “whole lotta story.” </span>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;"><a href="http://www.lexipostbooks.com/" target="_blank">Website</a><i> | </i></span><span style="font-weight: 400;"><a href="https://app.mailerlite.com/webforms/landing/c1w1g3" target="_blank">Monthly Updates</a> | </span><span style="font-weight: 400;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/lexipostbooks" target="_blank">Facebook</a></span></div>
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<b>Kate Richards</b><br />
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Kate Richards divides her time between Los Angeles and the High Sierras. She would gladly spend all her days in the mountains, but she’d miss the beach…and her very supportive husband’s commute would be three hundred miles. Wherever she is, she loves to explore all different kinds of relationships in her stories. She doesn’t believe one-size-fits-all, and whether her characters live BDSM, ménage, GLBT, spanking, or any other kind of lifestyle, it’s the love, the joy in one another, that counts. </span>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;"><a href="http://on.fb.me/14Vqx48" target="_blank">Facebook</a> | </span><span style="font-weight: 400;"><a href="http://bit.ly/19yVcWh" target="_blank">Goodreads</a> | <a href="http://bit.ly/17AeWeM" target="_blank">Twitter</a></span></div>
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<b>Chris Almeida and Cecilia Aubrey</b><br />
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Six years ago, our paths crossed in a most serendipitous way: through online role play. As funny as it may sound, we were “married/mated” by the group’s owner and from day one, we knew we just clicked. After a few months of writing some pretty hot fanfiction, we decided it was time to write about our own characters. Without a second thought, we embarked on this (crazy) joint writing adventure and Chris Almeida & Cecilia Aubrey were born. Since then, we have written 15 books in our Countermeasure Series (Romantic Suspense), and a novella in the A.W.E. Crew Series (Military Romance) published in Desiree Holt's Omega Team Kindle World and plan to write our own brand of hot & spicy romance for many years to come. </span><br />
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">You can find out more about us and our books here: </span>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/Authors.ChrisAlmeida.CeciliaAubrey" target="_blank">Facebook</a> | <a href="http://chrisalmeida-ceciliaaubrey.com/" target="_blank">Website</a> | <a href="http://twitter.com/CAlmeidaCAubrey" target="_blank">Twitter</a></span></div>
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<b>Deanndra Hall</b><br />
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Deanndra Hall writes stories in a world she knows well, with characters that are as fun, kinky, and crazy as she is. Although she’s an international bestselling author, she works and lives in far western Kentucky with her partner of 30+ years and three crazy little dogs. She's written for business, industry, religious institutions, non-profits, and owned her own graphic design business, as well as working as a fiber and textile artist. Her personal best was 26,000 words in one day, but she advises against that - it took her the next three days to pry her swollen eyes open. When she's not writing, she can be found working out at the local gym, hiking, kayaking, reading (of course), or working on a healthy recipe. And wherever she is, chocolate is sure to be nearby.</span>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;"><a href="http://wwwd.deanndrahall.com/" target="_blank">Website </a>| <a href="https://www.facebook.com/deanndra.hall.author/" target="_blank">Facebook</a> | <a href="https://twitter.com/DeanndraHall" target="_blank">Twitter</a></span></div>
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<b>Melissa Keir</b><br />
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Melissa Keir has always wanted to be an author when she wasn’t hoping for a career as a race car driver. Melissa doesn’t believe in down time. She’s always keeping busy. Melissa is a wife and mother, an elementary school teacher, a book reviewer, owner of a publishing company as well as an author. Her home blends two families and is a lot like the Brady Bunch, without Alice. She loves to write stories that feature happy endings and is often seen plotting her next story. </span>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;"><a href="http://www.melissakeir.com/" target="_blank">Website </a>| </span><span style="font-weight: 400;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/AuthorMelissaKeir" target="_blank">Facebook </a>| </span><span style="font-weight: 400;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/melissaakeir" target="_blank">Facebook Profile</a></span></div>
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<b>Mia Koutras</b><br />
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Mia Koutras lives in the Greater Toronto Area with her wonderful husband and two amazing children. When she’s not educating students on the brilliant imagery and symbolism in Shakespeare’s great tragedies—while they not so covertly tap away on their cell phones to make plans for lunch and after school—she’s concocting story lines and character sketches in her head, just waiting for the moment to commit them to paper and hard drive. </span><br />
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Mia can be found online at: </span>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/mia.koutras" target="_blank">Facebook</a> | </span><span style="font-weight: 400;"><a href="https://twitter.com/MiaKoutras" target="_blank">Twitter</a> | </span><span style="font-weight: 400;">E-mail: </span><a href="mailto:miakoutras@gmail.com"><span style="font-weight: 400;">miakoutras@gmail.com</span></a></div>
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<b>Deelylah Mullin</b><br />
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Deelylah Mullin began her writing journey as a child. Since Fourth Grade Writers' Group, high school creative writing classes, and even more creative writing in college (the first time), she's been working to hone her craft and tell her stories. Back in the day, those stories used to be horror. Now, they're diverse in genre, but almost always with a romantic twist. She’s spent twenty-four years teaching high school and college English/composition courses, professionally edited since 2012, and is in semi-retirement to chase her own dreams. </span>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;"><a href="http://www.deelylah.com/" target="_blank">Website</a> | <a href="https://www.facebook.com/AuthorDeelylah" target="_blank">Facebook</a> | <a href="https://twitter.com/VampBard" target="_blank">Twitter</a></span></div>
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<b>Anne L. Parks</b><br />
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Anne L. Parks is the author of nine books, including the Return To Me series, and the Tri-Stone Trilogy. Married to the Navy - well a Commander in the Navy – with a background in law, it’s not surprising she was drawn to writing romantic suspense and legal thrillers. Currently residing in the Washington D.C. area, she loves spending time reading, doing yoga, mountain biking, and keeping track of four kids. And drinking wine. </span>
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<b>Paige Prince</b><br />
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Paige Prince is the alter ego of Rhyann Harris, erotic romance author, editor, drinker of coffee, and binger of Netflix. Based in a suburb of Houston, Texas, Paige is happily married to her very own romance hero, and they’re raising their very own little heroine. Or hellraiser. They’re not entirely sure which side she’s chosen yet. </span>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;"><a href="http://authorpaigeprince.com/" target="_blank">Website</a> | </span><span style="font-weight: 400;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/paigeprinceauthor" target="_blank">Facebook</a> | </span><span style="font-weight: 400;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/AuthorPaigePrince" target="_blank">Facebook Fan Page</a> | </span><span style="font-weight: 400;"><a href="https://twitter.com/paige_prince" target="_blank">Twitter</a></span></div>
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<b>Melissa Robitille</b><br />
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Melissa Robitille is an author, editor, book formatter & cover designer, and when that doesn’t keep her busy enough she also designs websites, cooks, sings along to everything and dances, too. She writes everything speculative fiction - fantasy, science fiction, horror, paranormal romance, paranormal noir, urban fantasy, you name it - and will have 2 novellas in boxed sets as well as 4 short stories in anthologies under her own name this year alone, as well as several books published under pen names. </span>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;"><a href="http://robitille.wixsite.com/home" target="_blank">Website</a> | </span><span style="font-weight: 400;"><a href="https://robitille.wordpress.com/" target="_blank">Blog</a> | </span><span style="font-weight: 400;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/Melissa-Robitille-203203153102649" target="_blank">Facebook</a> | </span><span style="font-weight: 400;"><a href="https://twitter.com/mahrial" target="_blank">Twitter</a></span></div>
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<b>Jamie Salisbury</b><br />
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Writing romance stories with passion and sass, Jamie Salisbury has seen several of her books soar to #1 on Amazon. She’s written as long as she can remember. Her books are all self published. Music, traveling and history are among her passions when not writing. Her previous career in public relations in and around the entertainment field has afforded her with a treasure trove of endless story ideas. </span>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;"><a href="http://www.jamiesalisbury.com/" target="_blank">Website</a> | <a href="https://www.facebook.com/jamiesalisburyauthor/" target="_blank">Facebook </a>| <a href="https://twitter.com/JamieRSalisbury" target="_blank">Twitter</a></span></div>
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<b>M.A. Stone</b><br />
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">M.A. Stone has had magical stories in her head, ever since she was a little girl devouring her favorite Stephen King or Laurell Hamilton novel; she figured if they could write up amazing stories about amazing people and places, well then so could she. She’s had three books published so far, a short story in a novella and is set to release books four and five in the next year. When’s she’s not arguing with her characters or figuring out storylines in the shower, she’s raising up her four AMAZING (and interesting ) children, binge watching stuff on </span><i><span style="font-weight: 400;">Hulu</span></i><span style="font-weight: 400;">, making blankets and trying to schedule date nights with the love of her life. She currently lives in Pennsylvania with her family, her overly-emotional pitt bull, a flock chickens named after characters from the movie </span><i><span style="font-weight: 400;">Friday</span></i><span style="font-weight: 400;">, and a duck named Ricky. </span><br />
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">You can reach her at:</span>
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<span style="font-weight: 400;"><a href="https://www.facebook.com/Author-MAStone-459524677481912/" target="_blank">Facebook</a> | <a href="https://twitter.com/stonekitty34" target="_blank">Twitter</a></span></div>
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<b>Lacey Wolfe</b><br />
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<span style="font-weight: 400;">Lacey Wolfe has always had a passion for words, whether it’s getting lost in a book or writing her own. Her goal as an author is to have a romance for everyone, whether it’s sweet, sensual, or spicy. She’s had several books on the Amazon best seller lists. When she isn’t writing, she can be found running, talking to her pets, spending time with her family, or lost in some sort of craft. She takes kindly to anyone who feeds her cookies.</span>
<span style="font-weight: 400;">Lacey lives in Georgia with her husband, son and daughter, their herd of cats, and one black lab who rules the house.</span><br />
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<a href="http://www.laceywolfe.com/" target="_blank">Website</a> | <a href="https://www.facebook.com/AuthorLaceyWolfe" target="_blank">Facebook</a> | <a href="https://www.instagram.com/author_lwolfe/" target="_blank">Instagram</a></div>
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awhit333http://www.blogger.com/profile/01542601928235649986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1918948667970999096.post-47512742476791905512016-12-08T05:30:00.000-06:002016-12-08T05:30:04.198-06:00June Jenson and the Shield of Quell by Emily Harper- Blog Tour<div style="text-align: center;">
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<strong>Book Title:</strong> June Jenson and the Shield of Quell </div>
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<strong>Author:</strong> Emily Harper </div>
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<strong>Genre:</strong> Women's Action/Adventure </div>
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<strong>Release Date:</strong> April 16, 2015 </div>
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<strong>Hosted by:</strong> Book Enthusiast Promotions</div>
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<span id="docs-internal-guid-37b8a5bc-c265-02e8-82ce-0d15e9dd4ac4"></span><br />
June Jenson, an accomplished Oxford professor, has spent her life trying to get out from under the shadow of her infamous grandfather: a renowned archaeologist accused of stealing a relic during an excavation at Sutton-Hoo. When a secret alliance recruits June to guard priceless artifacts she realizes that this is her chance to contribute to the history she loves and rid herself of the cloud of suspicion that her family has lived under for so long. But, when the artifact June is commissioned to guard turns out to be the same relic her grandfather was accused of stealing− a relic he has consistently claimed never existed − her carefully laid plans of family redemption are a bit shot. Now, with the aid of her accused grandfather who suffers from early onset Alzheimer’s, and a chauffeur who’s looking for a scandal to make him famous, June must race to discover the truth of the shield and what really happened at Sutton-Hoo all those years ago.<br />
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“Isn’t that what I have just been asking for?” I ask. <br />
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I must remain calm. The Alzheimer’s always gets worse when I get angry at him. But, honestly, sometimes it is so trying to have a conversation with someone that should really take about a minute and it ends up taking twenty. Even then we don’t really get anywhere.<br />
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“As long as you’re sure,” he says. “I don’t want you to regret afterwards that you asked for my help and weren’t able to figure this out on your own.”<br />
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“I could figure this out on my own,” I argue.<br />
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At his doubtful expression I sit up straighter.<br />
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“It’s not that I can’t figure it out myself. Because I certainly could, given more time.”<br />
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“And how much time have you had already to solve this riddle?”<br />
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I pretend to think about the answer when we both know I haven’t slept in three days.<br />
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The Alliance has given me until midnight. I have exactly twenty-three minutes left to give them an answer that will determine my entire future. If it’s right, I’m in. I will officially be protecting Britain’s priceless artifacts; studying them, and seeing relics that no one is even aware are in existence.<br />
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If I fail, I have thirty essays to grade by tomorrow morning.<br />
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“Right, so you need my help, but you want to figure this out yourself,” he says.<br />
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“Exactly,” I nod.<br />
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“June, really, have you not been working on your logical formulas lately? You’re not making a lick of sense.” The Professor shakes his head. “I really shouldn’t help you with arguments as unsound as that.”<br />
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The Professor doesn’t know what this is really about. He thinks it is a bet amongst colleagues at work. The first one to solve the riddle gets the coveted parking spot beside the Elm tree. We don’t even own a car, but the Professor’s pride responded to the principle of the matter when I told him the stakes.<br />
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“Professor, please!” I say, looking down at my watch. “Can you just tell me the answer, and we can argue over semantics later?”<br />
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He studies me for a moment before nodding. <br />
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“I’ve got a better idea,” he says, smiling. “How about another clue?”<br />
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Stay calm, just breathe. Everything will be fine.<br />
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“Now, let me see…” he says, pursing his lips. “Something to tell you that won’t be too obvious… That’s a hard thing, I got the answer in about three seconds with the clues you’ve already been given…”<br />
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If he doesn’t tell me the bloody answer in five minutes he’s going in a home.</div>
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Emily Harper is the bestselling and award winning women's fiction author of White Lies, Checking Inn, My Sort-of, Kind-of Hero and the June Jenson series. Her debut novel, White Lies, was a finalist in the National Excellence in Romantic Fiction Award. My Sort-of, Kind-of Hero won the 2014 New England Readers' Choice Award. She has a passion for writing humorous romance stories where the heroine is not your typical damsel in distress. <br />
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Originally from England, she currently lives in Canada with her husband, two children, and a very naughty dog.<span style="font-weight: 400;"><br /></span>
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awhit333http://www.blogger.com/profile/01542601928235649986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1918948667970999096.post-19595254214438416972016-12-07T05:30:00.001-06:002016-12-07T05:30:20.592-06:00Christmas in the Highlands by Madelyn Hill- Book Blitz<div style="text-align: center;">
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<b>Book Title:</b><span style="font-weight: 400;"> Christmas in the Highlands </span></div>
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<b>Author:</b><span style="font-weight: 400;"> Madelyn Hill </span></div>
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<b>Genre: </b><span style="font-weight: 400;">Scottish Historical Romance </span></div>
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<b>Release Date:</b><span style="font-weight: 400;"> August 31, 2016 </span></div>
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<b>Hosted by:</b><span style="font-weight: 400;"> Book Enthusiast Promotions</span></div>
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A FAMILY FOR CHRISTMAS<br />
CHRISTMAS IN THE HIGHLANDS, BOOK ONE<br />
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Laird Malcolm Sutherland needs a bride. He has few requirements of his new wife; demands he should have insisted with his former betrothed—namely, honesty, loyalty, and resources.<br />
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Lady Rossalyn Gordon will do anything to be rid of her tyrant father, even if that means deceiving the man who offers her an escape. If revealed, those secrets will either bring her mercy, or thrust her back into the hands of the devil who sired her.<br />
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When Rossalyn’s bastard of a father arrives at Sutherland Keep, going back on his word and ordering her return, Malcolm must decide if he can forgive his wife enough to listen to his heart and have a family for Christmas.<br />
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<br />
HIS BY CHRISTMAS<br />
CHRISTMAS IN THE HIGHLANDS, BOOK TWO<br />
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Fiona Sutherland longs for love with the man she has pined after since she was a lass. When he weds another she is devastated, and questions why the man she pledged her heart to has forsaken a vow made in their youth. Could loving her be so hard?<br />
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Cameron Munro adores Fiona from afar, knowing her heart has been set on another. She is everything he desires—strong, loyal, and fiery in spirit.<br />
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Determined, he pledges to prove his love to her and win Fiona’s heart by Christmas.<br />
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“Lass, ‘tis time to be wed.”<br />
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Her jaw clenched and Malcolm swore she was ready to yell at the man, but her father merely held her gaze, until apparently he’d won the battle of wills. Lady Rossalyn sighed as she glanced up at Gordon, and uncertainty filled her gaze.<br />
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Malcolm nearly moved forward to sweep her into his arms. He didn’t give in to the impulse—he wasn’t a romantic man, subject to ideas of whimsy—but for some reason, once he spied Lady Rossalyn he’d been thinking decidedly romantic thoughts.<br />
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“Aye, Father, I’m ready.”<br />
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Ah, her voice, soft, slightly husky. Sensual.<br />
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Damn, he was ready to consummate the marriage before they were legally wed.<br />
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She trembled a bit as their eyes met. She lowered her gaze until her lashes cast a shadow against the pale skin of her cheeks. When she lifted her eyes again, resolve and a bit of stubbornness filled them. Malcolm nearly laughed, but checked his impulse.<br />
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Now wasn’t the time for laughter.<br />
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In a few moments, they’d both pledge to honor and obey.<br />
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And then, their fates would be sealed.<br />
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* * *</div>
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Marriage? To a stranger? Rossalyn’s mind raced to find a solution before she spoke her vows.<br />
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None came. Quite the contrary, all reasoning supported the union. She only sought a safe place to live, away from the hovel in which she’d faced many indignities. And now one last indignity was thrust upon her by her father—an unexpected marriage. Which was particularly hard at the current time of year and all the memories it wrought.<br />
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‘Twas the time of celebration with Christmas fast approaching, and the anniversary of her mother’s death as well. To honor her, Rossalyn longed to share her mother’s love of holiday traditions and festivities in a keep which would appreciate such frivolity. Her father had loathed Christmas and all of its trappings. So much so, he forbade any acknowledgement of the season. And it broke her heart.<br />
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No matter, for as she stood next to this man—a lifeline for her—calmness settled in, easing the shaking of her hands. A quick prayer slipped through her mind . . .<br />
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Please understand. Please forgive.<br />
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The priest started the ceremony, and all too soon, had bade the laird to kiss the bride.<br />
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Dear God Almighty, he was going to kiss her. A plethora of thoughts raced through her mind. She hadn’t been kissed since Daniel had been alive. Tears clogged the back of her throat. ‘Twas her fault he was gone; her fault she was in this precarious position and needed saving—apparently by Laird Malcolm Sutherland.<br />
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When she’d entered the main hall, she’d nearly run back to her chamber and barred the door. But there was something about him, especially when he’d been ready to challenge her father. His swagger was determined, and she’d been completely taken with the strength of him as he’d pulled the large sword from its sheath.<br />
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Now there was a wild look to the man as his face approached hers, ready to claim her as his wife. She marveled at the hard planes of his cheeks, the strong jaw and brow. His hair flowed to his shoulders, a thick mass of dark brown, tempting her fingers to grab on and not let go.<br />
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She pulled back, searched his gaze. Aye, she recognized the look of desire and it rattled her to the core.<br />
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No matter what she thought or felt, this man was her salvation.<br />
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He slowly curled his hand behind her head, cradling her, bring a sense of security.<br />
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A slight grin tipped up his broad mouth as she met him halfway. His lips were warm and firm as they played over hers. He pulled her flush against his strong body, slightly lifting her up onto her toes. She melted a little against the hard wall of his chest. Though a stranger, her heart found a bit of reassurance at their attraction to each other. When his hands moved on her back, then traveled down her hips, she pulled away. ‘Twas too soon, too intimate.<br />
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Laird Sutherland—now her husband—brushed the back of his hand along her cheek. “Lovely,” he said in a low voice, for her ears only.<br />
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Her heart pattered and she swallowed. The compliment embarrassed her as much as it pleased her. It had been so long since she’d appreciated the attention of a man. Any woman would be thrilled by his words, more so by his strength and handsome face. And how heat coursed through her body after his kiss.</div>
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Madelyn Hill has always loved the written word. From the time she could read and all through her school years, she'd sneak books into her textbooks during school. And she devoured books daily. At the age of 10 she proclaimed she wanted to be a writer. After being a "closet" writer for several years, she sent her manuscripts out and is now published with Soul Mate Publishing. And she couldn't be happier! <br />
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A resident of Western New York, she moved from one Rochester to another Rochester to be with the love of her life. They now have 3 children and keep busy cooking, watching their children's sporting events, and of course reading!<span style="font-weight: 400;"><br /></span>
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awhit333http://www.blogger.com/profile/01542601928235649986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1918948667970999096.post-7618076619767066292016-12-07T05:30:00.000-06:002016-12-07T05:30:05.673-06:00The Princess Dilemma by Heather Hiestand- Release Tour<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<b><span style="font-size: x-large;">THE PRINCESS DILEMMA</span></b></center>
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by <span style="font-size: large;">Heather Hiestand</span></center>
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<b>Genre</b>: Historical Romance</center>
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England, 1837: In the game of kings, there can be only one winner, but a second chance at love is worth more than any throne…<br />
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As a British army colonel, Edward FitzPrince deals with dangerous secrets every day. When his mother dies and he learns he may have a claim to the British throne, he quickly finds himself out of his depths. The Scottish-born soldier discovers life in London and political maneuvering foreign indeed.<br />
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One woman can help him, German Princess Charlotte von Scharnburg, with whom he had a secret romance more than a decade before, his long-lost wife. As the best friend and lady-in-waiting to his half-sister, Queen Victoria, who has just ascended the throne of England, Charlotte is now his natural enemy.<br />
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Edward is determined to have his birthright. Charlotte must ensure her family’s survival. They will be each other’s greatest ally, or tear each other apart.<br />
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“Colonel?”<br />
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Edward glanced over the balustrade to see a woman of such natural beauty as to put the King’s Staircase to shame. All the magnificence of the palace seemed to dim around her. Her shining gold hair contained more than a hint of auburn and her eyes were very dark under reddish brows. Surely lips were not so naturally red past childhood, and he suspected this woman was in her mid-twenties. Still, she had a splendid figure, and was tall for a woman. She would rest her head right against his shoulder if she leaned against him. Who was she?<br />
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He nodded his head at her and came slowly down the stairs, conscious of the kingly effect of his gleaming white trousers and shined boots against the black stairs and gold walls. He could see her breasts rise and fall. She was breathing rapidly, as if she had run down a long corridor to reach him.</div>
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A woman so beautiful must have wed right out of the schoolroom, though she wore no ring on her plump little fingers. Strange to see such hands on such a tall lady.<br />
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She stared at him a little strangely, as if he should know her. “I am lady-in-waiting to the queen,” she said. When he didn’t respond, she continued. “Baroness Lehzen sent for me in early spring, when it became obvious the princess would need a larger household soon.”<br />
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Her beauty must have made his mouth go dry. He worked his tongue against his teeth before he spoke. “You must be a cousin on the German side, and not related to me.”<br />
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She blinked then inclined her head, indicating she knew his relationship to her mistress. “I am a second cousin through Her Majesty’s mother, the Duchess of Kent.”<br />
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“I see,” he murmured. That explained the faint Continental accent. “I am very happy to see my sister, Princess Victoria, but my appointment is with Princess Sophia. I will, of course, be happy to pay my respects.” In fact, he could hardly contain his glee at reaching his sister so easily.<br />
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“The princess is in the queen’s apartments at present,” the lady said, arching one of her brows as she emphasized his sister’s assumed title. “Will you follow me?”<br />
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He had been told many a time that he never smiled, but he could feel the corners of his lips tilting up as he trailed the woman. While her wide skirt hid the curves of her hips, he could see she had a pleasingly tiny waist. Being in mourning for the king, she was dressed all in black, but her sash accented those curves with great proficiency. The wide, ruffled sleeves on her arms were pure silliness, however, a waste of money that could get caught in doors, catch fire, and rip on anything protruding. Women’s fashion had never made sense to him.<br />
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Sometimes he wondered what a woman would look like in men’s clothing. He wanted to see this lady-in-waiting in tight buff trousers, all the better to see her backside. A trim linen shirt might display her bosom well. It was hidden from view by a fichu, though the bodice of her dress itself was low-cut enough to display her charms if she dared.<br />
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<b><span style="font-size: large;">Heather Hiestand</span></b> was born in Illinois, but her family migrated west before she started school. Since then she has claimed Washington State as home, except for a few years in California. She wrote her first story at age seven and went on to major in creative writing at the University of Washington. Her first published fiction was a mystery short story, but since then it has been all about the many flavors of romance. Heather’s first published romance short story was set in the Victorian period, and she continues to return to historical fiction as well as other subgenres. The author of many novels, novellas, and short stories, she has achieved best-seller status at Amazon and Barnes and Noble. With her husband and son, she makes her home in a small town and supposedly works out of her tiny office, though she mostly writes in her easy chair in the living room.<br />
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awhit333http://www.blogger.com/profile/01542601928235649986noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-1918948667970999096.post-47735604421058710502016-12-06T05:30:00.000-06:002016-12-06T05:30:18.134-06:00Mr. Cocky by Nana Malone- Release Blitz! <div style="text-align: center;">
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">Mr. Cocky</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">I’m a cocky bastard.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">I admit it. It’s because I’ve got a big d*ck and I know how to use it. And man have I used it. When my life fell apart, I used it even more to forget.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">But I don’t do that anymore. Because my life is back on track. I have a plan. And nothing is going to stand in my way of getting what I’ve worked so hard for. Nothing except for…her.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: georgia, serif;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><a href="http://bit.ly/2gUaA9w"><img alt="" src="http://i66.tinypic.com/qsvckw.jpg" style="height: 40px; width: 118px;" /></a> <a href="http://bit.ly/2h6e3kp"><img alt="" src="http://i64.tinypic.com/4lr1c4.jpg" style="height: 65px; width: 96px;" /></a> <a href="http://bit.ly/2gU64b9"><img alt="" src="http://i63.tinypic.com/2qxyxjb.jpg" style="height: 58px; width: 108px;" /></a> <a href="http://bit.ly/2h9ZPmX"><img alt="" src="http://i67.tinypic.com/2v83fxt.jpg" style="height: 41px; width: 125px;" /></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">Nick licked his lips as his gaze flickered over her. “Selena. I don’t know how to do this.”</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">A smile tugged at her lips. “I’m pretty sure you do. You’ve shown me twice. But it’s okay. I’ll show you how it all works.”</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">He grinned but looked like he was still wavering. Then he whispered, “Sod it,” and reached for her.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14px;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="color: black;">Selena pulled his head down so his lips grazed hers lightly, and shivers ran down her spine.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">He plunged his fingers into the waves of hair. “I fucking miss you,” he whispered as he buried his nose in her neck. Heat flooded her veins. She knew this was a bad idea, but she longed to taste his skin and feel him inside her. She couldn’t fight it.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">Tentatively, she tugged at his top and slid her hands up, over tight abs and his toned chest. When he moaned low, she planted light kisses on his pecs. “I miss you,” she whispered.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">“You have no fucking idea how much I’ve missed you.” He kissed her again, backing her into the room, toward the couch. Frantically, his fingers fumbled with the zipper on her wool dress, tugging it down, the zic-zic-zic sound filling the silence in the room.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">When the fabric dropped to the floor, Nick wasted no time. His hands tracked over her body, like a blind man trying to remember a lover. When he cupped her breasts, Selena arched into the caress. He gently rolled his thumbs over her nipples and her knees gave out as electric currents coursed through her body, making her weak, needy.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">He turned her slowly, kissing her neck. She heard the clink of his buckle and then the ruffling of clothes and she knew he’d shed his jeans. Her breath quickened as he reached his hand around her waist, teasing her ribs, before skimming lower to caress her belly. When he kept moving, pausing at the juncture of her thighs, she held her breath. She knew what he would find.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">He’d find her wet, slick, needing him. Gently, he caressed her warm flesh through the silky fabric of her panties. She let out a moan and tipped her head forward, baring the nape of her neck to his lips. Nick made a low approving sound as he slid his fingers inside her silky fabric and searched for the honey. “You’re so Goddamn sexy,” he whispered in her ear as he stroked her, his warm breath tickling her skin.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">With a flick of his free hand, he released her bra, letting her breasts spill free. When he clasped a hand over her breast, she grasped it, intertwining their fingers. Together, they teased her erect nipples, sending ripples of lust through her veins. They plucked, pinched, kneaded. All the while, his fingers gently probed her center, making her wetter. Making her want more. So much more.</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">When he slid another finger inside her, she cried out, her legs going weak again. “I can’t take it anymore,” Selena said, breathless, falling forward on to the couch. “Please, Nick.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder, looking back at him. “I need you.”</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">Nick cursed under his breath and hung his head. “Fuck. I meant to get more condoms…but then…you and I…we weren’t…”</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">Selena stared at him. “Oh, God…”</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">He kneeled beside her. “I’m so sorry. But don't worry. I’ll make you feel good. You won’t even notice. Just tell me where it hurts and I’ll kiss it all better. I’ll kiss and kiss and kiss until you beg me to stop.”</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">“Nick I want you to make love to me.”</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">He looked down at his erection. “Trust me, he’s with you on this one.”</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;">Despite the need spiking her blood she chuckled. “I’m his best mate after all.”</span></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 14px;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><span style="color: black;">USA Today Best Seller, Nana Malone's love of all things romance and adventure started with a tattered romantic suspense she "borrowed" from her cousin.<br />
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It was a sultry summer afternoon in Ghana, and Nana was a precocious thirteen. She's been in love with kick butt heroines ever since. With her overactive imagination, and channeling her inner Buffy, it was only a matter a time before she started creating her own characters.<br />
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While she waits for her chance at a job as a ninja assassin, in the meantime Nana works out her drama, passion and sass with fictional characters every bit as sassy and kick butt as she thinks she is.<br />
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Want to know when the next book is coming? Hit up her Newsletter here. You'll only get updated when there is a new release or a special promotion for her Sexy, Sassy Readers. </span><a href="http://eepurl.com/2PeXb" target="_blank"><span style="color: black;">http://eepurl.com/2PeXb</span></a></span></span></div>
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<span style="color: black;"><span style="font-size: 14px;"><span style="font-family: "georgia" , serif;"><a href="http://bit.ly/2evDyPB"><img alt="" src="http://i66.tinypic.com/21c9mde.jpg" style="height: 50px; width: 49px;" /></a> <a href="http://bit.ly/2evy1Zh"><img alt="" src="http://i65.tinypic.com/2la3cza.jpg" style="height: 50px; width: 49px;" /></a> <a href="http://bit.ly/2fO2Cxn"><img alt="" src="http://i64.tinypic.com/2rwrv6c.jpg" style="height: 50px; width: 49px;" /></a> <a href="http://bit.ly/2fQkSb7"><img alt="" src="http://i65.tinypic.com/ehxf9y.jpg" style="height: 50px; width: 49px;" /></a></span></span></span></div>
awhit333http://www.blogger.com/profile/01542601928235649986noreply@blogger.com0