Blog Archives

Fury Frayed

1/23/2018

Fury Frayed
Melissa Haag
(Of Fates and Furies, #1)
Publication date: January 23rd 2018
Genres: Fantasy, Young Adult

Megan’s temper lands her in Girderon Academy, an exclusive school founded in a town of misfit supernatural creatures. It’s the one place she should be able to fit in, but she can’t. Instead, she itches to punch the smug sheriff in his face, pull the hair from a pack of territorial blondes, and kiss the smile off the shy boy’s face. Unfortunately, she can’t do any of that, either, because humans are dying and all clues point to her.

With Megan’s temper flaring, time to find the real killer and clear her name is running out. As much as she wants to return to her own life, she needs to embrace who and what she is. It’s the only way to find and punish the creature responsible.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

EXCERPT:

“WHAT WAS THAT FOR?” HE ASKED. ANGER HAD WIPED OUT ANY HINT OF MOCKING CURIOSITY FROM HIS TONE.

I COULD ALSO FEEL THE THROB IN MY FIST. HE HAD A HARD NOSE.

“TO SEE IF YOU WERE REAL.”

“MOST PEOPLE PINCH.” HE SOUNDED A BIT MORE NASALLY THAN HE HAD BEFORE.

MY IMAGINATION WAS SURE GOOD AT ADDING THE LITTLE DETAILS NEEDED TO MAKE THIS ALL FEEL REAL. I DIDN’T LET IT DISTRACT ME FROM THE MOMENT, THOUGH.

“MOST PEOPLE DON’T WALK AROUND IN SOMEONE ELSE’S BACKYARD WHILE BUTT NAKED.” NOT THAT I ACTUALLY MINDED THAT PART. HIS BICEPS WERE CLEARLY DEFINED, AND HIS THIGHS WERE THICKER THAN MY HEAD. REALIZING WHERE MY GAZE HAD WANDERED, I QUICKLY LOOKED UP AGAIN.

HE SHOOK HIS HEAD AND RELEASED MY WRIST.

“WHERE WERE YOU GOING?” HE ASKED.

“TO TOWN. DO YOU OWN PANTS?”

“IT WOULD BE BETTER IF YOU STAYED HERE.”

“FOR WHO?”

“YOU.”

“STAY IN A HOUSE WHERE A GUY SHOWS UP NAKED IN THE BACKYARD? YEAH, THAT’S NOT SOUNDING LIKE A GOOD OPTION.”

“IT’S THE SAFEST ONE.”

“OF COURSE, YOU WOULD THINK THAT. BUT SINCE THIS IS MY DREAM, I’M GOING TO SEE HOW MANY MORE NAKED MEN ARE FROLICKING AROUND THIS PLACE.”

HE STAYED QUIET FOR A MOMENT, STUDYING ME. I WAS JUST ABOUT TO TURN AND WALK TO THE FRONT OF THE HOUSE WHEN HE SPOKE AGAIN.

“THE PEOPLE IN THIS TOWN ARE GOING TO EAT YOU UP AND SPIT YOU OUT.”

WITHOUT WARNING, HE SCOOPED ME UP AND WALKED INTO THE HOUSE WITH ME. IN THE LIGHT OF THE KITCHEN, I STUDIED HIS FACE. HE LOOKED MAD, HIS JAW HARD AND A FROWN TUGGING HIS LIPS. VERY NICE LIPS. HIGH CHEEKBONES AND A STRONG NOSE. HIS GAZE FLICKED DOWN TO ME JUST BEFORE HE STARTED UP THE STAIRS. DEEP BLUE EYES. I HAD AMAZING TASTE IN DREAM MEN.

WHEN HE TURNED TO MY ROOM, MY HEART SKIPPED A BEAT. WAS I REALLY GOING TO DREAM THIS? A NAKED MAN CARRYING ME TO BED? I KNEW WHERE THIS WAS HEADED.

Author Bio:

I love writing paranormal and fantasy romance stories. After finishing up the Judgement of the Six series, I thought I was ready to trade in my broody shifter males for something bit more mythological. Wouldn’t you know it…a few shifters snuck in! But, I managed a healthy selection of other creatures that made this series truly unique for me.

Writing characters with realistic motivations in a fantasy world is always fun. Fury Frayed was no exception. I laughed so many times while writing the first draft and again during the editing process. I hope you enjoy reading it just as much as I enjoyed writing it!

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter

GIVEAWAY!
a Rafflecopter giveaway

0 Comments

Daughter of the Goddess

1/22/2018

1 Comment

Daughter of the Goddess
Rita Webb
Publication date: November 20th 2013
Genres: Fantasy, Young Adult

The wind calls her to play.
Will she listen?

I was a nameless child abandoned on the temple doorsteps.

Soul, the gods called me. So they named me Nephecia.

My plans don’t include marriage to some silly nobleman. When I come of age, I will take vows and devote my life to serving the goddess of Light. As a priestess, a daughter of the goddess, I’ll make the world a better place.

The summer before my eighteenth birthday, an oracle arrives with word from the gods: I must leave the only home, the only family, I’ve ever known, to marry a stranger in a foreign land.

There must be some mistake.

If I follow my own plans, I’ll disobey the very goddess I want to serve. But how can I trust the gods have my best interest at heart?

______________________________________________________

Daughter of the Goddess is a Young Adult Fairy Tale retelling of the Greek myth Eros and Psyche, set in a fantasy world.

If you enjoy sweet love stories and fairy tales, then you’ll fall in love with Nephecia’s story. Grab your copy today.

Goodreads / Amazon

99¢ for a limited time only!

Q&A with author Rita Webb

Where did you get the idea for Daughter of the Goddess?
My favorite Greek myth is the story of Eros and Psyche. I think it’s the only Greek myth I read with anywhere close to a happy ending, even if there was a great deal of turmoil getting there.

The philosopher in me always wondered what a soul really was. When someone says, “That music is full of soul,” what does that mean?
So Nephecia epitomizes what I believe soul means. I took her out of Ancient Greece and put her into a world of my own making.

How did the name “Psyche” become “Nephecia”?
I searched other languages for the word “Soul” and found nephesh in Hebrew.

How did the name “Eros” become “Gabin”?
Gabin is a variation of Gabriel (according to my baby name book), that means “Hero of God.” I remember something about it meaning “Beloved by God” too.

Why do you write stories?
I have 3 daughters, ages 15, 13, and 11, and I want them to grow up believing in their dreams. The only way I can see that happening is if I believe in my own.

What’s your secret to success?
My husband. He believes in me, and when I’m discouraged, he never lets me give up.

What one piece of advice do you have for new writers?
Read, write, study, write some more. Never give up. Okay, that’s 5 pieces of advice.

Author Bio:

Leaving the house to go to school, I had schoolbooks spilling out of one hand, the other holding my place in a Nancy Drew novel, and bunny slippers still on my feet. My mom was a wee bit upset.

I haven't changed much. Still always have a book (or two) in my hand or creating stories in my head, and although I don't have any bunny slippers, I love writing in my jammies and snuggly slipper socks.

With my husband TJ (my own cuddly werewolf), I home-school our three girls, who keep us busy with art, science projects, books to read, dance classes, and walks about the park.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter

GIVEAWAY!
a Rafflecopter giveaway

1 Comment

Screams You Hear

1/22/2018

0 Comments

Horror

Date Published: January 22, 2018

photo add-to-goodreads-button_zpsc7b3c634.png

Murder and madness infect a small town

For sixteen-year-old Ruthie Stroud, life on tiny Hemlock Island in the Pacific Northwest is an endless sea of boring green, in a place where everybody knows everybody’s business and nothing ever happens. Then her world is ripped apart when her parents divorce and a new man enters her mother’s life. But worse is yet to come.

When she drifts ashore on the mainland, hideously burned, Ruthie has a harrowing tale to tell. It begins with the murder of a family. It ends with her being the sole survivor of a cataclysm that sweeps her little island. As a detective attempts to unravel Ruthie’s story of murder and madness, only one horrifying conclusion can be drawn: whatever was isolated on remote Hemlock Island may now have come to the mainland. Is Ruthie safe? Is anyone?

Excerpt

Chapter One

I wake to pain, pain beyond comprehension, my skin on fire, only to find myself in a hospital bed, my arms bandaged, and wires snaking into machines. The burns are covered in white gauze and every motion, no matter how small, sends my nerves screaming. The air is heavy against my skin. And that smell. I can still smell the bitterness of my singed hair. I feel my head, expecting strands of hair, thick and wavy, but it’s gone. There are only splotches of emptiness, a topography of touch that alarms me. I wonder if it will ever grow back.

Tendrils of anxiety course through me, pulsing steadily. I need to wake up from whatever this is.

In spite of the pain, I caress my face and I have no eyebrows. Only stubble. No matter where I touch, my skin isn’t soft; it’s leather, a mask that rests too tightly against my skull. It’s like my skin is both expanding and contracting, pushing and pulling.

In the cyclone of terror, I remember. I remember everything.

I wish I didn’t. I wish it all away.

Around the room, there are no mirrors, and I know it’s no accident. It’s small comfort. I don’t want to see myself. I may never look in a mirror again. It’s only me and a bed, and colorful murals of elephants and giraffes on the wall, their cartoon smiles mocking me. I must be in the children’s wing, even though I’m sixteen. Next to me, an IV recedes into my vein. To my left is a button. It could be to call for assistance. Or to adjust the bed. But I think it’s something else. I think it’s for pain.

I could press it and disappear into numbness.

I could press it and just drift.

But there is something about pain. It’s the price of being alive.

The button is my litmus test.

I am stronger than my pain. I need to focus on something—anything. I need to distract myself.

I am not my pain.

I am Ruthie Stroud. I live at— wait—not anymore. I have a brother—no, not anymore.

I shut my eyes. I can’t shut them hard enough. Through the darkness, I still see fire. My world engulfed with flickering orange and reds. And the all-encompassing heat, heat beyond boiling, bordering on oblivion. Melting.

My last memory is coming ashore on the mainland, alone and fiercely tired. I didn’t walk, didn’t run. I moved, floating, held aloft by the most invisible of strings, my eyes on the horizon, people on the edges of my vision. Adults. I felt their gaze. The air was cool and moist and my skin so hot. Moving and moving; people staring. I hear them, words like police and 911 and oh my God. They surround me, a horde. They’re feral creatures, circling, their faces distorted. They are coming for me. I have no escape.

I scream and my world goes dark.

“Ruthie?”

I open my eyes. A woman stands in the hospital room doorway. Her skin is the color of teak, her black hair pulled into a tight ponytail, and without a uniform, she’s clearly no nurse. I look down her button-down shirt and a badge is attached to her belt, a gun holstered at her side.

She says, not unkindly, “I’m Detective Perez from the Washington State Police.”

I knew the cops would get involved, even though they’re late. Far too late.

She waits for me to invite her in. “May I?”

I nod and my skin crinkles and cracks. She enters, pulling a chair beside my bed and sits down. Her brown eyes rest on me and then dart away. She can’t bear to look. I must seem a monster. She asks, “How are you feeling?”

I don’t know how to answer that question.

“I’m sorry,” she says.

Down the hall, I hear a child scream. From surgery or fear, I don’t know. I think fight the pain, fight the pain.

She speaks to me in soothing tones. “I need to ask you a few questions. About what happened. Can you talk?”

My mouth is dry, my throat sore, my vocal chords thrashed. I’d forgotten how much I screamed. I feel my skin wrinkle into deep crevices as I move my jaw, and it’s an effort to form words. Even my tongue feels burned; this strange muscle in my mouth. “Is my dad coming?”

“He’s on his way.” We share a bit of silence and I stare at the woman she is, the beautiful woman I will never be, and she says, “I’d like to start at the beginning. And if there’s ever a point where you need to stop, just let me know, okay?”

“There’s just one thing,” and I clear my throat. I force her to find my eyes. To see. To look. To understand.

“What’s that?”

“Don’t judge me,” I tell her. “I did what I had to.”

About the Author

James Morris is a former television writer who now works in digital media. He is the author of the Kindle Scout selectees What Lies Within and Melophobia, as well as the young adult suspense Feel Me Fall and trio of short stories Abraham Lincoln Must Die. Catch him at jamesmorriswriter.com.

Contact Links

Website

Facebook

Twitter

Amazon Author Page

Purchase Links

Amazon

iTunes

Kobo

0 Comments

Warwick's Mermaid

1/22/2018

0 Comments

Contemporary Romance

Date Published: 11th October 2017

Publisher: Tirgearr Publishing

Having escaped an abusive relationship, Chloe MacGregor is determined to put the past behind her. The little cottage high up on the cliffs overlooking the beautiful North Yorkshire town of Whitby is her safe haven, somewhere she is free to be herself.

When the arrival of her new neighbour and boss, Luke Warwick, threatens her peaceful, sheltered life, Chloe is forced to confront her past and to re-evaluate who she really is. Falling in love with Luke is not part of her plan but, to her surprise, Luke is falling for her too. The only thing preventing their happy ever after is Chloe herself. Will she ever truly learn to leave the past where it belongs?

Excerpt

Chloe stared at the bright blue front door, not quite sure if she was willing it to open or remain shut. Cerulean Bliss. She had been drawn to the name, conjuring up images of crystal clear Mediterranean Sea, sandy beaches, and cloudless skies. Chris had appeared amused by her decision to choose the paint based on the name rather than the colour.

‘‘Babe, if you want Cerulean Bliss for the front door, Cerulean Bliss is what we’ll go for.’’

But when he’d returned from a boys’ weekend away to find Chloe had painted the door, it had been a different story. He had flown into a rage, claiming she hadn’t consulted with him on the colour and had gone behind his back, waiting until he was away to make changes to his house. That was the first time she had been on the receiving end of his anger; the first time she had been frightened and confused by his apparent about-turn on something he had previously agreed to. It hadn’t been the last time.

Chloe glanced at her watch, frowning when it showed only a minute had passed since she had last looked. The frown deepened when she lifted a hand to rub her eyebrow and saw how much her fingers were trembling. A gentle hand touched her forearm and she looked up to meet her friend’s calm gaze.

‘Don’t worry. It’s going to be fine.’

Chloe shook her head, unable to prevent her gaze from returning to the front door only twenty or so metres from where they were sitting in her car. What if he glanced around and saw her? What if he didn’t?

‘What am I doing, Bekah?’ She dropped her head in her hands, squeezing her eyes shut and immediately wincing as that small movement resulted in more pain than it should.

‘The right thing, that’s what.’ Rebekah rubbed her friend’s forearm. ‘Come on, Chloe. We talked about this.’

‘I know, I know we did.’ Chloe lifted her chin, but didn’t remove her gaze from the door. ‘I just…I keep thinking about it, over and over. He’s not always that bad, not really, and I think…I think maybe it was my fault.’

Chloe didn’t have to see her friend’s face to know she was angry; she could feel it radiating from her in waves. Rebekah remained silent and reached across to pull down the sun visor in front of Chloe, lifting up the small flap covering the vanity mirror.

‘There is nothing you could have done that would ever justify what he did to you. Nothing.’

Chloe stared at her reflection, taking in the dark purple bruise circling her left eye—now bloodshot and half-closed—the ugly graze reaching across her cheekbone and further down to the swollen and split bottom lip. Without thinking, she licked her lip. The tip of her tongue slipped over the injury, and she drew in a sharp breath at the sting it produced.

She met her gaze in the mirror once more, noting the confusion and uncertainty dulling their green hue. ‘I know. But it’s not usually this bad. He pushes me around a bit sometimes, nothing major, and he says things…you know, usually when he’s had a drink.’

‘That doesn’t make it right. You know that.’ Rebekah blew out a long breath. ‘I can’t believe you never told me.’

Chloe avoided her friend’s accusing gaze. What could she have told her? That Chris was proving her mother right? That she wasn’t woman enough for any man?

‘It doesn’t matter now anyway. I—’ She drew in a strangled breath as the front door opened and, shrinking down a little in her seat, Chloe prayed he wouldn’t glance down the street and recognise her car among all the others parked along the kerb.

As she watched, Chris locked the door before turning and sauntering along the path, tossing his keys in the air and catching them, his lips pursed as he whistled. Chloe couldn’t hear from this distance, but she knew he would be whistling the tune to whichever song had been on the radio before he left the house. She glanced at her watch once more; 8.15am on the dot. Chris was a creature of habit.

‘Bastard.’ Rebekah thumped the dashboard in obvious frustration as he got into his car without glancing left or right before driving off. ‘Look at him, acting as if he hasn’t a care in the world. You should have let Sean come round last night and hammer ten bells out of him, see how he liked it.’

Chloe gave a weak smile. ‘I don’t suppose that would have solved anything.’

They sat in silence for a few minutes before Rebekah finally opened her door.

‘So, come on then. Let’s do it.’

Chloe bit her lip and immediately winced in pain, wishing she hadn’t. Gingerly exploring her lip with her fingers, she saw they were stained with blood, and stifling a sigh, searched in her bag for a tissue.

‘What if he comes back? What if he’s forgotten something?’

‘He’s not coming back. He’s gone to work,’ said Rebekah, nodding her encouragement. ‘Come on, the sooner we get in, the sooner we get out. We’ll only be a few minutes.’

Two minutes later, Chloe unlocked the door with trembling fingers, her heart thumping painfully in her chest as she pushed it open. Cerulean Bliss. It conjured up no happy thoughts for her now. It hadn’t done from the moment Chris had returned from his weekend away. When she hesitated on the step, Rebekah gave her a gentle shove, propelling her into the hallway.

‘Hey!’

‘Well, we can’t stand in the doorway all day.’ Rebekah glanced around. ‘Okay, so where first? In here?’

Rebekah gestured to the living room but Chloe shook her head immediately. She wasn’t ready to face that room, not yet. Instead, she walked over to the bottom of the stairs and, after a moment’s hesitation, shouldered her overnight bag and ran lightly up to the first floor. Ten minutes later she reappeared and joined Rebekah, where she was waiting patiently in the hall.

‘Got everything?’

‘Almost.’ Chloe licked her lip, the sharp sting and coppery taste of blood reminding her why she was doing this. Taking a deep breath, she walked into the living room where her gaze was immediately drawn to the coffee table. It looked as tidy as ever, with the magazines and books neatly stacked in one corner. In her mind’s eye, she replayed the moment Chris had finally tipped over the edge.

It was football this time; football and beer. His team had lost and, downing his fifth can of beer, he had turned to her, obviously looking to pick a fight so he could vent his frustration. Chloe couldn’t remember what it was he had said, but she had responded non-committally before asking him if he wanted a coffee – a somewhat obvious effort to change the subject. But he hadn’t let it drop, blocking her path as she tried to walk into the kitchen. Her stomach rolled as she recalled Chris pushing his contorted face into hers as he yelled at her through gritted teeth, backing her up against the wall and knocking over the plant stand by the fireplace as he did so.

She closed her eyes. It had been her fault. If she had just let him carry on, he would have calmed down eventually. But she hadn’t. She had pushed him away, pushed at his chest as he crowded in on her. And that was all it had taken. Any ounce of self-control Chris might have had went flying through the window, just as she went flying through the air when he grabbed her hair and threw her across the room.

She could remember lying on the floor in a daze, wondering what had happened, and Chris dragging her to her feet before punching her in the face. That was when she had fallen across the coffee table, her cheek grazing the corner as it tipped over and spilled the magazines to the floor. A kick to the ribs for good measure had followed, with Chris standing over her, his breath coming in harsh rasps, before he turned away and went upstairs, hissing, ‘You’re not worth the effort.’

‘Chloe? You okay?’

Rebekah’s gentle voice broke into her thoughts and Chloe blinked, unable to speak for a moment. ‘Um… yes. I just need a couple of things from here.’

She hurried over to a bookshelf and took a handful of books before casting a final glance around the room, sick with fear that Chris might return at any moment. There was very little here that she could call hers; Chris’s minimalist taste left little room for any of her personal items. Anything she had bought herself had either mysteriously gone missing or been accidentally broken.

Sorry, babe, don’t know what happened there. Never mind, it wasn’t expensive, we’ll get you something else.

‘I think that’s it. There’s nothing else here I want.’ Following Rebekah out of the house, Chloe locked the door and posted the keys through the letterbox. With a final look along the street, she walked back to her car. She was worth more than that.

About the Author

I’m a contemporary romance author, published with the lovely Tirgearr Publishing, and am a proud member of the Romantic Novelist Association. I live in the beautiful East Riding of Yorkshire in the UK and, although I work full-time in the public sector, my favourite pastime, when not writing, is wandering around old stately homes.

My debut novel, Beauty and the Recluse, was published in February 2016, closely followed by my second, Love on the Nile, which was released in the Summer of 2016. My third novel, Warwick’s Mermaid, was published in October 2017.

A few random pieces of information about me:

~Favourite TV shows – The Walking Dead, The X-Files, Nashville, Dr. Who, the Great British Bake-off.

~Favourite Music – I’m an 80’s girl!, country, sixties, Elvis, classical (when I’m writing)

~Favourite Food – Indian, tapas, crisps

~Favourite Drink – black coffee (copious amounts when I’m writing) sauvignon blanc

Contact Links

Website

Facebook

Twitter

Blog

Instagram

Tirgearr Author Page

Purchase Links

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

Smashwords

Kobo

iTunes

0 Comments

Shadow of the Moon

1/22/2018

0 Comments

Shadow of the Moon
Kwen D. Griffeth
Publication date: September 25th 2017
Genres: Adult, Mystery, Paranormal

The grisly murder of a diplomat’s son in Central Park draw NYPD Detective Gerald Meeker and FBI Special Agent Andee Trakes into a twisted and confusing investigation. Within hours, the evidence indicates the man was executed in the manner saved for werewolves. Andee Trakes is assigned to liaison with a history professor, who is an expert on folklore and legends.

Professor Alwyn Lloyd, handsome, articulate and successful, not only agrees the method of death was indeed an execution, he claims to be a werewolf. Andee is torn between the desire to date the man and the suspicion to arrest him.

From the initial killing in the park, a bloody spree is ignited that soon has Andee and Lloyd forced to work together to protect themselves and family members.

Shadow of the Moon explores the world of werewolves and paints a picture of what is good about them, as well as bad. The story explains what is beautiful as well as ugly about the wolf.

The story is fast paced and full of interesting characters and several twists and turns to keep both the fantasy as well as the suspense and romance enthusiasts entertained.

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

“I’m Special Agent Trakes, I’m with the FBI. I drove up from New York to see Professor Lloyd.”

“I’m Professor Lloyd’s assistant. Is he expecting you?” Her smile never wavered, though the hand dropped to her side.

“No, as I said, I’m with the FBI, and we don’t normally make appointments.”

Miranda, with smile still in place, walked to the door leading to the professor’s office as she said, “Let me check with him, but I’m sure he will be able to meet with you. I keep his appointment calendar, so I know he’s not overly busy.”

“Hey, I was here first, and I’ve waited thirty minutes.”

Trakes turned back to the office and noticed a blonde had stood to announce her displeasure. She tried to show her indignation with the agent, but her glare fell short.

Trakes smiled at the student and held out her FBI credentials for the blonde to see.

“I’m with the FBI, sweetie. We get cuts.”

Behind her, she heard Miranda say, “Sit down, Shelly, you know as well as I do the professor won’t change your grade.”

Trakes turned back to Miranda and waved the credentials one more time.

“These are really the only announcement I need, but thank you. I’ll just pop in. Then the professor and I will get acquainted.”

Before Miranda could object, the agent turned and stepped through the door.

Her first impression of the office was the desk. It was large, made of wood and appeared antique… Professor Lloyd sat behind the desk.

He studied papers with his head lowered, and her first glimpse of him took in the breadth of his shoulders and his hair. It was thick and dark, almost black down the center of the head, but shaded to grey by the time it reached the man’s ears. It was combed back, but a natural part down the center caused it to fall to each side. She wondered what it felt like, then forced herself to refocus.

As she stepped through the door, Trakes announced, “Good afternoon, I’m…”

He looked up from his papers.

The eyes were a pale blue. Ice blue. The shade of blue used to sell breath mints, and her intake of air seemed fresher as it travelled to her lungs. The eyes were hard and unwelcoming. Andee wished she had waited to be announced. She stepped into the room and tripped on the edge of the rug. She whispered a curse, caught her balance, held her blush to a minimum and muttered an apology.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have…” Those eyes, still focused on her, softened enough to indicate his irritation at the interruption had grown into a mild curiosity. As he studied her, he allowed an eyebrow to raise and his head to cant to one side. She suddenly felt exposed, and her blush from the ungainly entry deepened. Her heart paused, and then quickened. Her stomach tickled, then settled into nervousness. Her underarms damped and a question about deodorant flashed through her mind. She tried again to introduce herself, but discovered she had forgotten her name.

“Professor, I’m…a…I’m…”

Her words came in a small squeak. It may have been the squeak a mouse makes when she sees the hawk dive, but it was certainly the squeak of prey. She froze. The corners of his mouth turned.

“Uncle Alwyn, you stop this. Stop it, right now.”

The commands came from Miranda, and the professor looked past Trakes to his niece, who was standing in the doorway. As he broke eye contact, Andee gulped air. She realized she’d forgotten to breathe.

“Uncle Alwyn, I’m ashamed of you,” Miranda continued, and she took Andee’s arm and assisted her to one of the chairs in front of the desk. Andee smiled her gratitude as she felt dizzy. She looked up at the assistant, who smiled down at her.

“Don’t mind my uncle. He does that sometimes. It’s because he is an Alpha.”

“He’s a what?”

Andee felt as if she was clearing a fog.

“He’s an Alpha, and sometimes he takes advantage.”

“An Alpha? Is that a fraternity?”

Author Bio:

Winner of Readers’ Favorite Silver Award for Historical Fiction/Western, Kwen knew he wanted to be a writer when he was fourteen years old. He felt the urge when he finished Earnest Hemingway’s masterpiece For Whom The Bell Tolls. The story touched him in a way no other book ever had. It transported a kid born and raised on a farm and ranch in Idaho to the mountains of Spain. It took him back in time forty years to witness the Spanish Civil War. Kwen knew he wanted to share that wonder with other people.

John Lennon said, “Life is what happens while you make other plans.” While Kwen lived a full and varied life, his dream of writing remained in the back of his mind.

Finally, in 2012, he wrote a novella named Dear Emma. He self-published through Amazon and asked people to read it. “The best way to see if I can write is to let people check it out,” he said. Like it, they did. Currently, Dear Emma enjoys a 4.8 out of 5 stars rating on Amazon.

Often asked what genre he writes, Kwen replies he writes stories about people and uses the genre that best fits the story. “I think of the genre, or setting as another character that interacts to help tell the story,” he says.

His most often received and constant comment is how real his characters seem. Upon the completion of his historical fiction trilogy Sam and Laura books, a reader telephoned Kwen and directed him to write more stories about the couple. When asked why the reader was so adamant about more stories, he replied he “wasn’t ready to tell Sam and Laura good bye yet.”
Kwen considers that comment one of his highest compliments.

Kwen’s books are getting some attention from the literary community. The Law of Moses, the Silver Award winner from Readers’ Favorite, and The Tenth Nail both received the Gold Award from Literary Titan Book Review. The Gold Award is given to books “found to be perfect in their delivery of original content, meticulous development of unique characters in an organic and striking setting, innovative plot that supports a fresh theme, and elegant prose that transforms words into beautifully written novels.” Many of Kwen’s books have received the Gold Award from Literary Titan. In addition, The Law of Moses was awarded five 5 Star Reviews from the reviewers of Readers’ Favorite.

Kwen’s books are available in several formats; e-Book, paperback, and audio. He invites you to check his writings out. Who knows? He might become your next favorite author.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter

GIVEAWAY!
a Rafflecopter giveaway

0 Comments

Chaos's Reign

1/16/2018

0 Comments

Chaos’s Reign

Publishing Date ~ 16/01/2018

Page Count: 146

Genre ~ New Adult; Romance

Cover Designed by: Outlined With Love Designs

Blurb:

I didn’t want to be the Pres of an MC, I was happy to be the right hand man and voice of reason. Life’s a bitch though and shit happens. Now I have to step into someone else’s shoes and take Raven’s position at the head of the table. What could possibly go wrong without my voice of reason?

Goodreads

Excerpt:

I stood back, watching her as her tears fell, wishing I could go over to her and wrap her tiny body in my arms. I wish. I wish I could run my fingers through her long blonde hair and tell her that everything was gonna be okay. I was here though. Getting ready to lift the casket of the man she loved more than anyone in this world. Her first love. Her protector.
We lifted the casket onto our shoulders as ‘Over You’ by Miranda Lambert played throughout the church. I knew that had been her touch. I was at the front on one side and Tucker was on the other. It’s what Pres would have wanted. My eyes met hers as we passed her, and she turned to look our way. As they did, the tears in her eyes made my heart break for her. It breaks for all of us. His life was never meant to end like this. He deserved more than a gunshot death.

For other books by Lauren Firminger check out her Amazon Author Page

~Author Bio~

Lauren Firminger grew up in a small country town only a couple hours away from where she currently resides in Sydney, Australia.

During high school, Lauren fell in love with books and reading, and like most, was a Potter-head then turned Twi-Hard, Vampire Academy soon followed by the Mortal Instruments.

However, it wasn't until she got her hands on Sylvia Day's Crossfire Series that Lauren fell in love with reading again. Soon after, her new writing journey began, bringing her to her official debut release of Learning to Fly.

~Author Links~

Website ~ http://laurenfirminger.weebly.com/

Facebook ~ https://www.facebook.com/AuthorLaurenFirminger/

Goodreads ~ https://www.goodreads.com/author/Lauren_Firminger

Instagram ~ https://www.instagram.com/laurenfirminger/

0 Comments

Alien Alphas

1/16/2018

0 Comments

Alien Alphas: Twenty-Three Naughty Sci-Fi Romance Novellas
Publication date: January 16th 2018
Genres: Adult, Romance, Science Fiction

Fierce warriors. Savage barbarians. Powerful warlords.
All ready to claim their mates.

Alien Alphas is a collection of panty-melting sci-fi romances featuring dominant alien heroes, penned by New York Times, USA Today, and international bestselling authors. This decadently naughty box set includes twenty-three ALL-NEW, stand-alone novellas full of hot alien alpha males, breathless passion, and reluctant surrender. Take an exhilarating trip beyond the stars with this limited time only bundle that’s sure to leave you turning the pages late into the night.

Featured authors: Cari Silverwood, Cynthia Sax, Renee Rose, Lee Savino, Addison Cain, Kallista Dane, Maren Smith, Ava Sinclair, Sue Lyndon, Emily Tilton, Ashe Barker, Korey Mae Johnson, Grace Goodwin, Ivy Barrett, Jane Henry, Jaye Peaches, Katie Douglas, Lili Zander, Loki Renard, Maria Monroe, Megan Michaels, Myra Danvers, Sara Fields, and Sophie Kisker

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

99¢ for a limited time only!

SNEAK PEEKS:

Claiming His Virgin by Grace Goodwin:

My marked mate, Helen from Earth, was everything I imagined but never expected to have. I knew from watching her that her laughter came easily and her eyes were a unique combination of green and gold I’d never seen before. I longed to have her look at me and know me. Know exactly who claimed her. Who mastered her body.

I longed to have those eyes focused on me not just in pleasure, but with love. Affection. Desire. But those were a fool’s dreams. Those thoughts did not belong to a scarred warrior like me.

Perhaps if I could seduce her, bring her enough pleasure, she would learn to tolerate my appearance. It was the best I could hope for, but that hope burned and twisted inside me like hot knives. Wanting her was painful, but it was an agony I refused to give up.

Dravven’s Submissive by Megan Michaels:

Sable’s shapely legs the length of them enhanced by the silky material of her leggings which hugged them tightly had Dravven’s hand aching to glide up their length, ending at the apex of her sex.

“Your penis is hard and clearly visible. Are you getting hard thinking about how awesome you are?” Sable’s mischievous grin had her eyes twinkling in a way that he found irritating and yet, fascinatingly beautiful.

“Princess, let me assure you, any fantasies I’m currently having involve your long legs wrapped around my hips with your naked body writhing under me while you scream in ecstasy.” Dravven shamelessly adjusted his hard-on, smirking back at his little minx.

Sable’s cheeks turned an adorable pink, and finally reaching the top of the stairs she roughly brushed by him, bumping his shoulder in the process before landing unceremoniously into a plush chair.

Firmly shutting the door and latch, Dravven stood with his hands on his hips looking at Sable, watching her squirm under his inspection.

“I’m not going to sleep with you—even if we are married.” Her lips thinned, and a tic became visible in her jaw as she clenched and unclenched her teeth.

Bending over, he held her chin between his fingers. “I don’t steal anything. You’ll voluntarily beg for my cock in your hot cunt, and it won’t take long. I’m patient and have no problem waiting, but if your scent is correct…and I’m sure it is…you’re dripping with need, Princess.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Sable yanked her chin out of his grip, tilting her head up in what he assumed would be her typical stubbornness.

It was okay. He’d wait. Sable would submit…in all things. Sooner rather than later.

GIVEAWAY!
a Rafflecopter giveaway

0 Comments

The Shadow Weave

1/15/2018

0 Comments

The Shadow Weave
Annette Marie
(Spell Weaver #2)
Publication date: January 12th 2018
Genres: Adult, Urban Fantasy

Clio might be a nymph living in exile among humans. And she might possess the rare ability to mimic any magic she sees. And she might have just seriously ticked off the most powerful family of spell weavers in the Underworld.

But she is not in love with an incubus.

Lyre is the rebellious black sheep of said weaver family, and he’s the only reason she survived her recent Underworld “vacation.” He’s also the sexiest thing she’s ever seen. Together, they have to track down a catastrophically dangerous magic—a magic he created, she sort of stole, and they both lost—before his family gets their hands on it. And that means fighting alongside him in a desperate attempt to avert complete disaster.

But she is definitely not in love with him. At least, she’s pretty sure she’s not.

Mostly sure. Maybe sure? …Crap.

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

As though summoned by her thoughts, the sex fiend himself breezed into the room. Hair damp and tousled, the kind of face that made women’s hearts skip, broad shoulders that tapered to a toned torso. His tattered clothes should have ruined the look, but they added an extra edge—dangerous and exotic.

The others in the kitchen noticed his arrival, but they dismissed him just as quickly. Unlike most daemons, incubi were easy to recognize even in glamour. No other caste possessed that stunning combination of golds—white-gold hair, warm golden skin, vibrant irises like a dark patina over rich yellow gold.

Yes, they recognized him as an incubus—and they didn’t bother to hide their curling lips and wrinkling noses. Lyre either didn’t notice or didn’t care as he swept over to her, his expression brightening for the first time in two days.

“Clio,” he purred, voice too low for even keen-eared strangers to hear, “your powers of seduction would put any succubus to shame.”

She blinked at him, the bowl of whisked eggs in her hands and a hot pan sizzling in front of her. His mood was so different from earlier that she couldn’t quite grasp it.

“Huh?” she managed. How articulate.

“This is entirely unfair. I have no power to resist such tactics.” He waited a beat. “Are you planning to do something with those eggs?”

She blinked again, trying to unscramble her brain. Scramble. Right, the eggs. She dumped the mixture into the hot pan. “What are you going on about, Lyre?”

“Bacon,” he sighed dreamily. “Pancakes. Scrambled eggs. You slay me, my love.”

On the words “my love,” her heart screeched to a stop so fast it might have left skid marks on her ribs. It kicked back into gear at three times its previous speed and she concentrated so hard on the spatula that she almost went cross-eyed. “You—you can’t be that excited about my cooking. You don’t even know if it’s any good.”

“I can tell already. It’ll be delicious.”

She shivered. The way he said that word should be illegal. As she hurriedly stirred the eggs with a spatula, he stood so close he was almost touching her, his body angled toward her as though she held his entire attention. But his gaze, sliding coolly from one watching daemon to another, was distinctly unfriendly.

She scraped the eggs off the pan, then rescued the bacon from the oven—triggering a stir among the waiting daemons. With her bottom lip caught between her teeth, she pulled a plate from the cupboard, loaded it with food, and held it out to Lyre. She’d cooked an elaborate late-night breakfast to cheer him up, but now second thoughts were crowding her brain. Too late to change her plan now.

His smile only fueled her blush as he fished a fork out of a nearby drawer, loaded it with eggs, and scooped them into his mouth. She held her breath. The entire room went silent.

His eyes rolled back in ecstasy. “So good,” he moaned.

Bang.

She jerked around. The female daemon had dropped her heavy book on the floor. As everyone looked over at her, pink tinged the woman’s cheeks. She snatched up her book and beat a hasty retreat out of the room.

Clio swallowed hard, envious of the woman’s ability to flee. Lyre’s moan had been so sensual it had been downright scandalous, and if Clio didn’t put space between them soon, she was going to start swooning like a complete fool.

Author Bio:

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

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter

GIVEAWAY!
a Rafflecopter giveaway

0 Comments

Asleep From Day

1/13/2018

0 Comments

Contemporary/General Fiction

Date Published: January 10th, 2018

Astrid can’t remember the best day of her life: yesterday.

A traumatic car accident erases Astrid’s memories of September 9th, the day she spent with an oddly charming stranger named Theo. Ever since, she’s been haunted by surreal dreams and an urgent sense that she’s forgotten something important. One night, she gets a mysterious call from Oliver, who knows more about her than he should and claims he can help her remember. She accepts his help, even as she questions his motives and fights a strange attraction to him.

In order to find Theo and piece together that lost day in September, Astrid must navigate a maze of eccentric Boston nightlife, from the seedy corners of Chinatown to a drug-fueled Alice-in-Wonderland-themed party to a club where everyone dresses like the dead. In between headaches and nightmares, she struggles to differentiate between memory, fantasy, and reality, and starts to wonder if Theo really exists. Eventually, she’ll need to choose between continuing her search for him or following her growing feelings for Oliver. Astrid might go to extreme lengths to find what she’s lost . . . or might lose even more in her pursuit to remember (like her sanity).

“A compelling and original take on the classic amnesia tale . . . The narrative bursts with detailed, vivid characters . . . The dialogue is expertly crafted.” – The BookLife Prize

“Simply riveting from start to finish... a captivating, literary piece that winds a path somewhere between mystery, romance, and psychological thriller.” – D. Donovan, Senior Reviewer, Midwest Book Review

Excerpt

What’s the last thing you remember?

A rumble, a static rush, the world on a dimmer switch.

Outside, everything was gray.

But inside, a galaxy of color and light. Fireflies behind my eyes, neon in my bones. A nerve net of bioluminescence.

Radiant with hope. Glorious.

Do you know where you are?

In the heart of a storm. Give me lightning. Give me the flood. I’ve bled the sky of pigment, devoured its clouds. They remain like honey on my tongue, crystalized with promise. Nothing was ever sweeter.

What happened?

Something incredible.

Something terrible.

No more color. Fade to grey.

I’ve been robbed of this elation.

Stay with me.

---

I have the weirdest taste in my mouth. Metallic, like I’ve been sucking on pennies, and spicy—no, not spicy. Stinging. Blood. What the—? I move my tongue and feel tiny pebbles. They’re sharp, cutting my gums and the insides of my cheeks. Not pebbles. Teeth? No. Glass.

I turn to spit out pieces of broken glass, but there’s something around my neck and I can’t move it. Okay, don’t panic. I push the glass out of my mouth with the tip of my tongue and pieces roll down my chin on a trail of saliva and blood. Now let’s turn on a light in here.

I open my eyes. Huh.

What is this place? There are shelves of equipment, strange monitors, dials, wires. Some kind of . . . storage room? The image blurs and wobbles. If my head is a handheld camera, whoever’s operating it has a serious case of the shakes. I can’t get a steady picture and I have no idea what this place is.

Have I been kidnapped?

That thought should trigger some modicum of fear. But it’s like I’m trapped in a block of ice and fear is on the other side of it. I can barely muster any curiosity to figure out where I am. The rest of it—how I got here, if I’m safe, hurt, etc.—will have to wait.

So let’s see. The room is tiny, and moving, and noisy. There are beeps, the hiss and tinny chatter of a walkie-talkie, the looped bellow of a siren.

Seriously, where am I?

Nowhere good, a black whisper warns, and a fog in my mind parts, clearing a path for fear, the belated guest.

The image finally snaps into focus and it registers: an ambulance.

Why the fuck am I in an ambulance?

I sit up with a—nope, I can only lift my head maybe an inch.

Why aren’t you panicking more?

Because it’s getting foggy inside my head again and blurry outside of it. I could really use a nap. It’s so chilly in here. And bright. Might as well close my eyes and deal with this in the morning. Ah, the dark is much better.

Hang on. Let’s get some questions answered first, maybe make sure I’m not missing any limbs. I try to sit up again and a hand on my shoulder prevents me from rising any further. No, it’s not just the hand. I’m strapped in.

“Nice to see you coming around, but don’t try to sit up. My name is Leo and I’m a paramedic. Do you know today’s date?”

I squint but can’t make out the face above me.

“September ninth, 1999,” I mumble.

“It’s actually September tenth,” he corrects me. Close enough.

“What happened? Am I hurt?” Of course you’re hurt, genius. I doubt you’re tied to a gurney, with a mouthful of glass, just joyriding in an ambulance.

“It’s going to be okay, Astrid, we’re almost at the hospital.”

How does this guy know my name? Why am I going to the hospital? Because that’s usually the drop-off destination of ambulances. Try to keep up here. What happened to me?

My head is so damn heavy. Back down it goes, more blood, more spit trickling out of the corners of my mouth. I form words but can’t speak them. I manage a garbled whisper, but it’s drowned out by sirens, rattling noises, and the tapping of heavy rain on the ambulance roof.

I need to take stock. I’m mostly immobile, but am I paralyzed? I try to wiggle the toes. Okay, those work fine. Fingers? The ones on the left hand move then seize up in pain. Blinded? Obviously not, but my vision is still fuzzy at the edges. Obviously, I can’t move my head much, but I shouldn’t anyway, in case I have a concussion. Or worse. Go away, black whisper, I don’t need you scaring the shit out of me right now.

Back to my self-assessment. Do I feel pain anywhere else in my body? Now that I mention it, hell yes. Where? Everywhere, especially my left side.

Why can’t I remember how this happened? I keep asking the paramedic, but he won’t tell me. Why won’t he answer me?

Oh yeah, because he can’t actually hear me. Because my lips are barely moving and no sound is coming out.

It’s an effort to form any more words or keep my eyes open. Is there a cold, heavy blanket over me? Uh-oh, those blurry edges are going dark. It’s like someone pushed me into a deep well and I’m falling in slow motion.

“Try to stay awake, Astrid.”

Fingers snap in front of my face.

Cut it out, ambulance man. You’re messing up my nap. It’s so much nicer with my eyes closed. All you do is boss me around with “Don’t sit up” this and “Stay awake” that. The darkness is quiet and doesn’t make annoying demands.

“Astrid. Astrid!”

His voice is like a megaphone in my ear. Where is your mute button, ambulance man?

I think I found it. It’s here, further down in the dark.

I hear two voices, growing fainter as they speak.

“She’s out again, but vitals are stable.”

I’m not out, yet, ambulance man. Give a girl a break, would ya? It’s not my fault I have anvils on my eyelids. Besides, the light in here is too bright. And you are too loud. But I can still hear you fine . . . Mostly . . . Kind of . . .

“You’d think people would know not to drive like assholes in this kind of rain.”

“What is this, third one today?”

“Fourth. You hear about the wreck by the BQE? Five cars and a motorcycle. Two fatalities.”

“This one got lucky.”

“So to speak.”

“Want to get breakfast after this?”

“It’s lunchtime.”

“So? I want breakfast. Couldn’t you go for some French toast or pancakes?”

“Maybe eggs. Some strong coffee, bacon . . .”

“Extra bacon.”

How about taking my order, ambulance man? I’ll have--

Darkness.

YouTube Video

About the Author

Margarita Montimore received a BFA in Creative Writing from Emerson College. She worked for over a decade in publishing and social media before deciding to focus on the writing dream full-time. She has blogged for Marvel, Google, Quirk Books, and XOJane.com. When not writing, she freelances as a book coach and editor. She grew up in Brooklyn but currently lives in a different part of the Northeast with her husband and dog.

Contact Links

Website

Facebook

Twitter

Blog
Instagram

Other Site

Purchase Links

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

Google Play

Apple iBooks

Kobo

Universal (all buy links can be found here)

0 Comments

Dangerous Mate

1/13/2018

0 Comments

Dangerous Mate
Cecilia Lane
(Shifters of Bear’s Den, #2)
Publication date: January 10th 2018
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Romance

A Bear spoiling for a brawl.
Cole Strathorn fights fires. That’s all he’s ever wanted to do. He thrives on danger and protecting his clan. No one would mistake the six-foot-four, gruff bear shifter for a freaking baby sitter. But that’s exactly what he’s become thanks to an assignment from the town’s mayor. Cole’s new job requires him to keep an eye on the government scientist who has arrived in Bearden to study the shifters.

Cole expects a clichéd nerd with horn-rimmed glasses and a pocket protector, but he’s pleasantly surprised to find his charge is a lovely, curvy and very appealing woman. A woman who smells like she might be more than an assignment. The shy but brilliant scientist might even be his mate. Her addicting scent certainly arouses his bear.

A head for science, but a body for research.
Rylee Garland has come to Bearden to work. She doesn’t have time for distractions or bossy bodyguards, even if they’re tall, dark and gorgeous. She’s determined to ignore the tension sizzling between her and Cole. Her reputation hangs in the balance. If she doesn’t solve the mysteries swirling around the small town, she can forget about keeping her job.

But it grows harder to resist Cole’s charm. One wicked-hot kiss leads to another. Is Cole for real? Or is he just using his seduction skills to get information? Rylee’s had enough heartache for one lifetime and the deeper she falls for Cole, the more she worries he might not be what he seems.

A war brews.
While Rylee and Cole fight their attraction, sinister forces gather in the town of Bearden. The government might want information about the shifters, but there are others that seek something darker: total shifter eradication. The threat lurks, and the menace is real. Rylee and Cole must set aside fear and desire and join forces if they hope to save the shifters of Bearden.

~~~
Step into the world of Shifting Destinies, where the men and women you meet might just be a little more than human. Their towns are protected by magic, and their hearts are open and ready for love. But watch your step – more than darkness lurks in the shadows.

Goodreads / Amazon

EXCERPT:

The door banged open, and Rylee jumped. The test tubes she’d been pulling from a box rattled in her hands and nearly crashed to the floor.

She whirled at the disturbance and found a tall, dark-haired man shoving his way into the room set aside for her lab. His eyes found her and directed a ferocious scowl her way.

“You were supposed to wait for someone to get you,” the giant growled.

She took a step backward and tried to calm her pounding heart. Her hands went to her throat. She forced a breath out of her lungs, then sucked down her inhale. Waited a second. Then repeated the process all over again. But the breathing exercise did little to calm her.

God, he was huge. Bigger than Peter, bigger than Major Delano, bigger even than Chief Judah Hawkins. She was surprised he didn’t need to duck to enter the door. Tattoos covered his arms and added to the dangerous mystique of the stubble on his cheeks and his perfectly messy dark hair.

While she wanted to take her time studying the inked patterns on his forearms and his hands—his hands! those must have hurt!—it was his eyes that drew her in. They were storms of grey that hinted at a troubled soul, but there was kindness there, too. He could have given her a flat, steely look, but his eyes were soft.

Rylee could feel her cheeks reddening. Her panic was fading as much as it possibly could with a man of his size so close to her. And that ebb in emotion revealed something hidden under the depths: desire.

He was a rugged, handsome man. No. Hot as sin. And extremely, entirely off limits.

Author Bio:

If you'd like to be notified of new releases and special sales, subscribe here: http://cecilialane.com/CLML

Cecilia Lane grew up in a what most call paradise, but she insists is humid hell. She escaped the heat with weekly journeys to the library, where she learned the basics of slaying dragons, magical abilities, and grand adventures.

When it became apparent she wouldn’t be able to travel the high seas with princes or party with rock star vampires, Cecilia hunkered down to create her own worlds filled with sexy people in complicated situations. She now writes with the support of her own sexy man and many interruptions from her goofy dog.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter

GIVEAWAY!

0 Comments

<<Previous

Forward>>