Mystery, Suspense, Thriller
Date Published: February 5, 2017
Publisher: Carrick Publishing
An environmental activist is murdered on a street in Manhattan after a protest. NYPD homicide Detectives Chen and Castilblanco get the case. While pursuing the clues to find those responsible, they discover the activist’s boyfriend is in danger because he has key information that will expose an international conspiracy involving Europe, Russia, and the U.S. As the tangled web unravels, an old nemesis of the detectives makes his appearance.
Other Books in the Detectives Chen & Castilblanco Mystery Series
NYPD detectives Chen and Castilblanco continue their adventures in this sixth novel in the series. Castilblanco’s relative Teresa and Nasir are an item, but Nasir kills Teresa’s taunting and jealous ex-boyfriend in a fight. When they look to Nasir’s friends for help, those friends kidnap the two fugitives who become involved in a terrorist plot.
While the two detectives try to find Teresa and prove her innocence, a case in a different precinct involving a different Castilblanco relative surfaces. The cop’s uncle, other detectives, and the Coast Guard help sort things out, including the connection to an old mafia family.
Published: 2010
The murders of a Wall Street broker and a Navy SEAL in Manhattan only miles and minutes apart seem unrelated, but two homicide detectives discover a connection. As the strange cases merge and they chase down the killers, even with federal stonewalling, they uncover a terrorist plan to destroy two American icons and generate a financial crisis bigger than the Wall Street implosion of 2008. Hiding in the background are webs of international intrigue taken from today’s post-9/11 world.
Published: March 2012
Steve Moore gives a new meaning to “narco-terrorism” in this new thriller that has your favorite NYPD homicide detectives Rolando Castilblanco and Dao-Ming Chen thwarting another terrorist plot, as they did in The Midas Bomb. Castilblanco uses his old Navy SEAL skills to good effect and Chen takes on a new sexy and independent role against the combined forces of al Qaeda, a Mexican cartel, and neo-Nazi militia members.
Published: May 2013
With Teeter-Totter between Lust and Murder, Steve Moore continues the “Detectives Chen and Castilblanco Series.” The sleuths of The Midas Bomb and Angels Need Not Apply will embroil you in action and suspense yet again.
As a mystery novel, it is a dark probing into the nexus the crime underworld sometimes enjoys with the rich and powerful. Chen is arrested for the murder of a senator in circumstances that seem to leave no doubt of her guilt, but Castilblanco helps prove her innocence.
With this new crime novel, Steve continues the saga of your two favorite detectives as they and their companions fight the corrupting influence of the illegal weapons trade.
Published: March 2014
Aristocrats and Assassins continues the “Detectives Chen and Castilblanco Series.”
NYPD detectives Chen and Castilblanco leave their comfort zones once again. Chen goes to China where she helps the DEA track down a money laundering scheme. Castilblanco is in Europe on vacation with his wife. They meet up to thwart a terrorist who’s kidnapping members of the European royal family. What relation does he have to the money laundering scheme? Why does he have a vendetta for Castilblanco? What’s his real agenda? Join Chen and Castilblanco on a tour of Europe you won’t find in Frommer’s.
Published: November 2014
Chen and Castilblanco are back in the Big Apple. They begin to investigate the murder of a SOHO art dealer, delve into the shadowy world of art thieves, and discover that stolen artworks can be used as collateral to finance some dark entrepreneurship. The Collector is book five in the Detectives Chen and Castilblanco series.
Excerpt
Excerpt from Steven M. Moore’s Gaia and the Goliaths, #7 in the “Detectives Chen and Castilblanco Series”, Carrick Publishing, 2017:
Chapter One
Dr. Guillermo Sanchez ran with EMTs as they guided the gurney through the halls on the way to one of Bellevue’s ORs. His job was to stabilize the shooting victim for the surgeon, but stabilize wasn’t the right word in this case. The young woman flat-lined twice before the surgeon arrived.
“Wash up, Guillermo,” said Dr. Wilson. “I’m going to need your steady hands.”
Guillermo Pedro Sanchez was ending his first year as ER intern. He had already informed Wilson where the gunshot wounds were. The most serious ones were around her left breast. Had they done damage to the heart? The flat-lining indicated that they had.
He was in the seventh hour of his first shift. Unruly black hair and a need for a shave combined with a blood-stained smock made him look like an old-fashioned Italian butcher from an old ethnic neighborhood of New York City, but he had grown up in a rich family in Marblehead, Massachusetts. A brother and sister had attended Harvard all the way through to MBAs and now worked in the corporate world. He was the youngest and had attended Tufts; he’d always wanted to work in an ER. Now he was an intern in one of the busiest.
They were soon embroiled in the operation. The abdominal cavity was filled with blood—a massive leak somewhere threatened this woman’s life.
“Let’s do a transfusion,” said Wilson, “and patch tears if we can.”
“Is it her heart?” said Sanchez.
“I can’t see a damn thing. Suction!”
They worked feverishly. Desperate minutes became intense hours.
***
Gaia Papadakis’s last memories were about a dark street near NYU. She had been a bit tipsy. After the protest march, they went to a bar to celebrate. No one was arrested during the protest, but all the same they made the news on all local TV channels.
People were now interested in global warming despite naysayers in big corporations and the nation’s capital. Many were also asking questions about oil spills, fracking, and pollution from power plants. Her group Clean World tried to guide and coordinate the dialog.
Many conservatives supported companies Clean World was protesting against, while progressives were more on the side of protesters when not beholden to corporate donors. Many energy companies were owned by one huge energy conglomerate, Wilson-Myers Energy Corporation. Emotions ran high during the protest, but she gave the cops more credit than some co-marchers—the former kept the march peaceful and seemed impartial about whom they hauled away when tempers flared and violence ensued.
She had recognized some opposition leaders and activists trying to appeal to spectators; they played on people’s fears, focusing on loss of livelihood if the conglomerate’s companies went under. She knew their argument was specious—she had written white papers that proved the conglomerate could, in a period of ten years or so, improve their environmental record without losing revenue. Other white papers showed what would happen to the Earth if conglomerates like Wilson-Myers didn’t change their polluting ways.
Most in the crowd, though, ignored the opposition and were friendly to protesters. She knew Wilson-Myers hated that and the progress environmentalists were making. The conglomerate was spending money right and left to stop them and writing most of it off to advertising. That same money, probably even less, could be used to change its bad environmental record. It was a question of priorities. Companies spent tons of money trying to “educate the population”—translation: attack science and deny global warming. And they had sycophants in Washington to push that agenda.
At the bar, they had toasted their better-than-average success with the protest. She left around 2 a.m. Her small apartment wasn’t far away, so she walked. She was city and street smart, but her shooter was more efficient than your average gang member or mugger. An SUV sped by and a shooter sprayed her body with an automatic weapon, leaving her sprawled on the sidewalk and her mind fading into darkness as she still wondered why.
***
“We’re in trouble,” said Wilson, glancing at monitors. “We need to give her an artificial heart, but there’s no time!”
“No repair’s possible?” said Sanchez.
“Let’s try to pull her through,” said Wilson. “We’re heading for a train wreck here! Full replacement, ladies and gentlemen!”
More hours of painstaking, mind numbing surgery. Another cardiac surgeon joined Wilson, and another intern arrived to help Sanchez clamp, suck out fluids, sew stitches, and keep an eye on instruments, although OR nurses also helped in that too. The team grew; it was a team effort. Wilson was the quarterback marching his offense down the field with time running out.
After nine hours of surgery, they had the victim on an artificial heart. That would only be the start of her odyssey. She would now go on a list of patients who needed a heart transplant. That was another race against time.
“Good work,” Wilson told Sanchez as they were cleaning up. “You have a fast and sure suture technique. Maybe you should change to surgery. By the way, I’m sorry I ignored your questions in there. I’m afraid I become less professorial when I’m saving someone’s life.”
“No need to apologize,” said Sanchez. “They were stupid questions. Her heart was beyond repair. What chance does she have now?”
Wilson glanced at him, raising a bushy eyebrow. “Don’t become emotionally involved, Guillermo. You need to maintain a professional detachment. There’s only a ten percent chance she’ll make it. She’s likely to throw a clot, for example, considering circumstances. And we might not find a donor in time.”
“It seems so unfair. What is she, mid-twenties?”
“If she’s more than thirty, I’d be surprised. She pissed someone off enough she might as well have been a grunt in the Middle East invading a terrorist camp without a gun or body armor. Yeah, it’s unfair. You can be a recluse most of your life but still have a truck mow you down crossing a street in Manhattan. What about a surgery internship, if I can change the subject?”
“I can help more in the ER.” Sanchez smiled. “I’ll have lots of practice in Manhattan.”
“Are you just afraid of overspecialization? You’d be an ER surgeon soon enough. You can help sicker people as a cardiac surgeon on ER call.”
“I’ll think about it. But you can’t determine my skills just from one session. I didn’t do very much.”
“Often enough you provided a skilled third pair of hands when I needed them.” Wilson looked around and lowered his voice. “That other intern was all thumbs. Between you and me, he’s not going to last long in this intense environment.” He raised his hands and flexed his fingers, watching water drip off. “I’ll take these any day over a robot’s.”
Sanchez thought that was a bit egotistical but said nothing.
***
“You’re too young to be a doctor,” Gaia Papadakis said, her voice a raspy whisper. Sanchez had just removed the tube from her throat.
“You’re awake. You’ve been through a lot.” He took her pulse again the old-fashioned way. “A bit weak.” His thick eyebrows arched. “How do you feel?”
“I feel like I was run over by a subway train.”
“Something comparable on the street and right here in the ER. You’re lucky to be alive. You were in good shape, though, and that helped.”
“I work out when I can. Gym and jogging. Do you work out?”
“When I can. Don’t talk too much.” He showed her the call button. “If you have a problem, use that. Someone will come running. Don’t be timid with the morphine pump either. Control your pain.” He waved toward the door. “I have some other patients to see. It was a busy night in the ER apparently.”
“What happened?”
“Other than your being shot, I don’t know. About that: when you’re up to it, NYPD will want to interview you. Don’t worry about it, though. They have to go through me first.”
Nice smile, she thought. God, he’s young and handsome. Where’s he been all my life? He had beautiful curly locks like her Zorba. She wanted Alessandro by her side holding her hand now that the doctor had reminded her of him.
“Did you participate in my surgery?” He nodded. “Say, can you hand me my purse? I’d like to check my smart phone.” He handed her the purse, watched her rummage around, but turned to the PA system’s speaker over the door when his name was called.
“I have to go.” She nodded, flashing a tired smile.
She watched him leave, deciding it might be worth being shot in order to meet him. Sorry, Alessandro, you’re thousands of miles away.
Hours later in midafternoon, she woke from a deep sleep feeling panic. She knew something was wrong. She took her last gasp as she fought her descent into sweet oblivion.
About the Author
Steve Moore is an ex-scientist who has lived abroad and seen a lot of the world. His fiction reflects his interest in the human condition and how good people everywhere react and fight evil. He is now a full-time author who lives with his wife in New Jersey, but he has resided in Colombia and Massachusetts and other states in the U.S. He’s a native Californian. He loves to hear from readers and authors.
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Songs of Insurrection
-- EXCERPT: CHAPTER 1 If marriage were a woman’s grave, as the proverb claimed, sixteen-year-old Princess Kaiya suspected the emperor was arranging her funeral. Entourage in tow, she shuffled through the castle halls toward the garden where General Lu waited. Given his notorious dislike of the arts, the self-proclaimed Guardian Dragon of Hua had undoubtedly envisioned a different kind of audition when he requested to hear her sing. After all, she was dressed like a potential bride. She buried a snort. The Guardian Dragon—such a pretentious nickname. The only real dragon, Avarax, who lorded over some faraway land, might make for a more appealing audience. A quick trip down his gullet would spare her a slow death in a marriage with neither love nor music. And it wouldn’t matter what she wore. The gaudy dress compensated for her numerous physical imperfections, but stifled the only thing that made her special. How was she supposed to sing with the inner robe and gold sash squeezing her chest, in a futile attempt to misrepresent her woefully underdeveloped curves? The tight fold of the skirts concealed her lanky legs, but forced a deliberate pace. At least the short stride delayed the inevitable, while preventing her unsightly feet from tripping on the hanging sleeves of the vermilion outer gown. At her side, Crown Princess Xiulan glided across the chirping floorboards. Kaiya suppressed a sigh. If only she could move with the nonchalant grace of her sister-in-law, or even the six handmaidens trailing them. She dug her nails into clammy palms. Through this choreographed farce, appearances had to be maintained, lest she embarrass her father, the Tianzi. Chin up, back straight. A racing heart threatened to ruin her already meager semblance of imperial grace. Eyes forward. Servants knelt on either side of the looming double doors, ready to slide them open. She forced a smile, with her best approximation of feminine charm. If only she’d lived before Dragon Songs had faded into legend, she could’ve sent the realm’s victorious hero fleeing with the song he supposedly wanted to hear. An aging palace official stepped into her line of sight. Singular focus on the doors broken, she blinked. Her fluttering pulse lurched to a stop as she blew out a breath. His blue robes ruffled as he tottered forward with averted eyes and a bobbing head. He creaked down into a bow. “Emergency, Dian-xia,” he said, using the formal address for her rank. “The Tianzi commands you to greet a foreign delegation in the Hall of Bountiful Harvests.”
GIVEAWAY!
Finn: A Bully Novella
Morgan Campbell
Genre: M/M, coming of age.
Release Date: March, 10 2017
~ Blurb ~
It all started with a doll…
All I wanted was to be a kid,
to have fun with my friends and make mistakes.
But little did I know that my father had other plans.
A daily life lesson constantly spat in my face.
Every day, for years, I’ve been told that I’m wrong.
That I’m a mistake.
That I’m a sinner.
That no matter what, I’m an abomination.
A reminder that’s been drilled into my head;
beaten into my body and soul;
like a punch to the gut;
shoved in my face,
that what I am is a betrayal to my family.
Simply for being me. Simply for being gay.
Now, all I want is to be free from this nightmare that I’m trapped in.
To find the one that got away.
The one with the hazel eyes…
All I want is to find him
so he can save me from myself.
~ Excerpt ~
I open the door and a small bell jingles. Immediately I’m greeted with a two-for-one sale on fuzzy handcuffs in every color imaginable.
I shake my head. What am I even doing in here? I stand in the middle of the aisle, a little confused and a hell of a lot embarrassed. I pull the list out of my back pocket and try to figure out where to start. Gunnar didn’t tell me where to find anything, just wrote a list out.
“And if you get lost, just look for Anthony.”
“Yeah, great advice, Gunnar. I can’t even find a single person in here, let alone a twink with black and blue hair that looks like the love child of Harry Potter and Justin Bieber.” I mumble to myself as I pass a row of edible underwear and rip away thongs for men and women.
“Hello there, sugar. Lookin’ for anything in particular?” I turn around and there stands a skinny kid, no more than eighteen, I think. “Well, you look a little lost. You don’t happen to be Finn?”
“Uh,” I look around to make sure no one is around. “I…How…?”
He grabs my arm and takes me through a few aisles until we get to the back of the store.
“Sugar, Gunnar called me. Told me to look for a confused princess – ”
“– hey!”
“Said you might be in need of some help and told me to start here.”
“Okay, but what am I looking at.”
“From here over are the rubber dildos.” He points to the larger section of the wall to my left. “We’ll take a look at those later but let me tell you, they are fab-u-lous.” I just stand in awe at the kid in front of me. I wonder if I’ll ever have the courage to be out like him.
“And these are the butt plugs. Trust me, they’re a beginner’s best friend.” He gives me a nudge as he walks over to a few sitting lower on the wall to the right of the dildos.
“How do I…” I point to the plugs reluctantly. The sizes freak me the fuck out and I start to back up, straight for the door. I can’t fucking do this. It’s all too much for me to take.
“Sugar, you gotta start somewhere. Like relaxing? They’re butt plugs. They won’t bite you in the ass, but they will make it sing!”
“But, the size…They’re massive. They won’t fit!” I feel my forehead beading up with sweat as I feel the anxiety creep up, but all Anthony does is laugh at me.
He grabs a big box and pushes it into my hands. “Here, this will help you out. Now hand me that list I was told you have and let’s get shopping.”
I hesitantly look at the box after I hand the list over. Anthony walks off, mumbling something about Gunnar, when I get the balls to look at what he handed me. I flip the box over and inside sits five different sized plugs. From a thin, short, purple one to a monstrous black one that makes me break out in sweat even more.
No way in hell is that one ever going in me.
~About Morgan Campbell~
Morgan lives in the south of Texas, going back and forth from Austin and Houston, with her husband. When she’s not writing, she can usually be found with her nose stuck in a book, cooking, baking, crocheting, and causing a general ruckus with her friends and family! Filled with an overactive imagination at a young age, she began writing her thoughts down in a journal, and the rest, as they say, is history.
~Connect With Morgan~
The Game Begins
Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo -- EXCERPT: My name is Ever Moore. I know. It makes me wince every time I say it. When I’m eighteen, I plan to have it legally changed to something that doesn’t make people laugh. But right now I’m stuck. My dad thinks puns are the highest form of humor. He calls it ‘word play’. That’s right. I’m the spawn of nerds. My dad creates video games. My mother is an ethics professor at UCLA who thinks the battle between good and evil begins at home. If you want to know just how weird it can get at the Thanksgiving table, I can go one better. My grandfather was a big deal rock star in the seventies. You wouldn’t know the name of the band. So there’s no point in name dropping. After a visit, he exits with a two-finger peace salute like all the other well-adjusted hippie grandparents, but he doesn’t say, “Peace.” He says, “Rock steady.” Ugh! My family is big on manners. They’re too strict to let me say what I think, especially about Buzz’s love life. My grandfather doesn’t want to be called Grandpa or Grandad or Gramps or anything close to normal. Oh no. He wants to be called ‘Buzz’. I have no idea why. That is not his name. Anyway, the best protest I can mount is rolling my eyes. I keep trying to get his attention and roll my eyes back further into my head when he does the ‘rock steady’ thing, but he will not be deterred. Anyway I was leading a completely typical and deliciously angsty teenage life in Austin, Texas when my parents were suddenly offered jobs in the LA area at the same time. It was weird, but weird is part of my normal. Always has been. Since my grandad, the rocker, still lives in LA with the latest girlfriend who’s barely legal – she’s two years older than I am and her name is Charmin, yes, like the toilet paper. If that was my name, I’d have the decency to go by something like Charm, which would really be making lemonade from lemmons. But not Charmin. I don’t think she’s bright enough to understand what people are thinking whenever they say her name. Anyway, with the jobs and the fact that ‘Buzz’ lives there, moving seemed like a good idea. To them.
GIVEAWAY! Saving Mercy by Abbie RoadsSeries: Fatal Truth Series Genre: Dark Romantic Thriller Publication Date: April 4, 2017 AVAILABLE ON NETGALLEY PRE-ORDER NOW Amazon | iBooks | B&N | Google
He’s found her at last… Cain Killion knows himself to be a damaged man. His only redeeming quality? The extrasensory connection to blood that he uses to catch killers. His latest case takes a macabre turn when he discovers a familiar and haunting symbol linking the crime to his horrific past—and the one woman who might understand what it means. Only to lose her to a nightmare Mercy Ledger is brave, resilient, beautiful—and in terrible danger. The moment Cain finds her the line between good and evil blurs and the only thing clear to them is that they belong together. Love is the antidote for blood—but is their bond strong enough to overcome the madness that stalks them?
TRAILER https://youtu.be/FDuuI7KtiBc
EXCERPTHis neck itched and his body twitched. He shifted from one foot to the other, unable to stand still. Christ. He felt like an ADHD kid hopped up on sugar, trying to rein in a surplus of energy. Only it wasn’t energy pumping through him. It was anger. Rage. Fury. That’s what this place did to him. Made him into the sullen boy he’d once been who dreamed of wrath and revenge. “Mercy.” He whispered her name to the moon and some of the anger evaporated. “Mercy. Mercy. Mercy.” He used the word as a mantra, reveling in the taste of those vowels and consonants inside his mouth. Just saying her name calmed him. From inside the building, a rusty bolt scraped and banged, loud as a cherry bomb. The door swung inward, the squeal of old hinges shrieking through the night. In the woods, the coyote howled as if claiming its territory against the odd sounding intruder. Liz backed out the door, pulling a wheelchair. Twenty-five years ago, when he’d first met her here at The Institute she’d looked like a mom—a smile on her face, encouraging words on her lips, and a stout don’t-break-the-rules attitude. Now she looked the grandma version with her gray hair and pleasant plumpness. “Getting her out here was easier than I expected.” Liz didn’t exactly whisper, but didn’t speak at normal volume. “Ward A doesn’t have cameras since everyone is locked down. Thank the angels the night shift are notorious slackers—we didn’t run into anyone.” Liz turned the wheelchair to face him. The woman in the chair slumped in the corner of the seat, head hanging as if it were too heavy to lift. Her hair dangled in limp, stringy hanks that reminded him of blond worms. “This isn’t my Mercy.” Shit. The my had just slipped out. He didn’t look at Liz—didn’t want confirmation that she’d heard the slip. His Mercy had always been strong. Even at ten years old, throat wrapped in a fat wad of bandages, she’d seemed oddly poised and imperturbable during all the media interviews. She had survived something worse than what he had endured and yet retained her strength. She’d inspired him, intrigued him and tied herself to him without ever knowing. And she’d always been pretty. All strawberry blond hair and turquoise eyes and features that he’d just wanted to stare at because it made him feel all warm and nice on the inside. He’d never gotten close enough to smell her, but he imagined her scent to be a cross between fresh baked cookies and sunshine—not body odor and vomit like this woman. “It is her. See what he’s done to her?” Liz’s voice snapped like a whip. “Who?” Cain asked the question to Liz, but his gaze remained locked on Mercy. She hadn’t moved, hadn’t spoken, didn’t even seem alive. “Dr. Payne. He’s had a sick fascination with her from the first. Probably because she was the only person on Ward B who didn’t deserve to be there. He’s been pretty harmless until three days ago, when he moved her to Ward A.” “Why the fuck is she even here if she’s not—?” He’d assumed her past—what his father had done to her and her family—had finally caught up with her. He knelt in front of her wheelchair. “Don’t you curse at me boy.” Liz’s tone was all angry mom, making him feel like a bad kid. “Her official record says Undifferentiated Schizophrenia and Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. But I’ve seen psychotic—she’s not psychotic and never has been.” He’d never spoken to Mercy before, never been this close to her, never dared to. He’d been a wuss—too damned scared of her reaction to approach her. She had every right to hate him. It was his father that killed her entire family, his father that slit her throat, and his father’s blood that ran in his veins.MEET THE AUTHORAbbie Roads
Abbie Roads is a mental health counselor known for her blunt, honest style of therapy. By night she writes dark, emotional novels always giving her characters the happy ending she wishes for all her clients. SAVING MERCY is the first book in her new Fatal Truth Series of dark, gritty, romantic suspense with a psychological twist.
Life is but a Nightmare
-- EXCERPT: “If I could…” he whispered. “If I could, I’d hold him tight and never let him go.” A moment passed between us. A reminder of what we couldn’t have. “Callista,” he said gently. “Tell him I said hi. Please.” I chewed the inside of my cheek, but I nodded. “Callista,” he said, his voice low. “Callista, I’m so sorr—” I awoke with a gasp on the cot. I grimaced, feeling sore in unfamiliar spots. Paul stirred on his bed, and I quietly laid my head on the thin mattress. I stroked a hand along his arm, watching every bit of him. My son. I leaned in to whisper into his ear. I might have been angry at Plutus for everything, but I did know that there were things beyond our control. I understood it, but I didn’t have to like it or accept it. I did decide to give Plutus this peace offering, to let him know that I’d be okay, at least for now. And I wanted to assure Paul, even if it was just his subconscious, that somewhere, his father was thinking about him, that he was worried about him. “Daddy says hi.”
GIVEAWAY!
Past Forgiven
Marked Series; Book 3
Published: March 1, 2017
Published by: Jesse Lorenzo
Blurb:
One phone call…
And suddenly that fresh start Susan Scott wanted is threatened, needing help she turns to the only person she trusts.
Detective Dominick Antonelli swore he'd always keep her safe, and that's exactly what he intends to do. But living in tight quarters leaves him battling against his desire for her and his promise to protect the woman he’s falling in love with. Tensions mount as their attraction for one another builds, leaving them both unaware of the danger stalking their every move.
Dalton will stop at nothing in his quest to seek out his betrayer. He watches her carefully, biding his time for the perfect opportunity to strike.
Dive into the conclusion to the Marked Series, where Dalton's reign of terror continues.
Will this evil man get the last laugh?
Or will he be defeated once and for all?
Purchase Link:
::Other Books in the Series::
Purchase Links:
Purchase Links:
About the Author:
Jesse Lorenzo (formerly Lady J) is a romantic suspense writer and author of The Marked Series. Her debut novel, Forever Marked, released in August of 2015 and the rest is history.
She was born and raised in Central New York. This is where she met, fell in love with, and married her husband, in what can only be described as a whirlwind romance. Together, with nothing but the clothes on their backs, they forged an adventure across the country to sunny Arizona.
Now, Jesse spends her days raising her three beautiful daughters, and two fur babies... Her nights belong to writing and the creation of exciting new worlds.
Self proclaimed coffee connoisseur, lover of all book genres, camping, shooting, and all things outdoorsy.
~ All That Glitters by Liza Treviño ~
Book Tour - 1st to 10th March
Book Details: Title: All That Glitters - A Tale of Sex, Drugs and Hollywood Dreams Author: Liza Treviño Genre: Women’s Contemporary Fiction Publisher: Koehler Books Published Date: March 1, 2017 Language: English ISBN-10: 1633933083 ISBN-13: 978-1633933088
Book Links:
Synopsis: Alexandria Moreno—clever, sexy, ambitious and, at times, self-destructive. She blazes a path from Texas to Los Angeles at the dawn of the 1980s to make her dreams of becoming an A-list Hollywood film director come true. She and her best friend arrive in Los Angeles with little more than hope and the determination to make it big. Alex, a beauty as dark and mysterious as her scarred heart, stands at the bottom of the Hollywood mountain looking up, fighting for her chance to climb to the top. Will her quest to live fast and take no prisoners on her way to success destroy her in the end? All That Glitters is a women’s fiction Jackie Collins-type saga that introduces a strong, driven Latina heroine at the center of a rags-to-riches story spanning a decade of action. Along the way, Alexandria walks the fine line separating ambition and self-destruction, and discovers that some sacrifices will cost her everything. What early readers are saying: "Treviño tells her story with wit, intelligence, and an undercurrent of sadness at the plight women face to make a name for themselves as human beings instead of strictly as women. Treviño may have cloaked her ideas in entertaining vignettes and snappy dialogue, but underneath is a bite that stays with you." — Jonathan Marcantoni, author and publisher of La Casita Grande Press. "Liza has a way of taking you with her as she tells this very compelling story. She draws readers in with her as she describes scenes and characters with colorful detail and vivid imagination. This story is a testament to it's title: it really glitters!" —Reesha Goral, author, The Servant Boy "With distant echoes of Jacqueline Susann’s Valley of the Dolls in the background, Alexandria Moreno, the protagonist of All that Glitters, chases after the allure of Hollywood, all the time substituting pills, booze and sex for genuine happiness. It is only after she reaches success that she has an awakening leading her to realize the emptiness of her aspiration, and finally accepting true love. Kudos to Liza Treviño for giving us this unique image of the New Latina! I urge reading All that Glitters. You won’t regret it." —Graciela Limón, author Read an Excerpt: Los Angeles Oscar Night, 1990 When did things start going wrong? Alexandria Moreno gulped another swig of champagne from the bottle. She picked at its broken gold foil. It was the same stuff she used to buy back in the days when spending more than ten dollars on bubbly was an extravagance. Now she sat in the best limo money could buy, inching along the craggy hillside road waiting for her turn to put in an appearance at the first of many scheduled post-Oscar parties. She was obligated to dole out heartfelt hugs and kisses to any of the beautiful people who might want one. Tonight, everyone was going to want a piece of her. She was the girl of the hour. Until recently, Moreno had been an unknown writer-producer. She rocked Hollywood, winning Academy Awards for Best Director and Original Screenplay for the lushly violent, low-budget film, Win or Lose. Moreno, widely considered a dark horse contestant in the Oscar race, was the first Hispanic woman to be nominated, and win. Two golden statues for writing and directing lay on the limo’s floor and the vehicle glided to the top of Hollywood’s heights. Beyond the winding canyon road, the Los Angeles electrified grid shimmered like Moreno’s own personal cauldron of gold. She understood that more than just a movie had won tonight. She had won. So why doesn’t it feel better? Why don’t I feel better? Despite everything she’d done to reach this moment of glory, Alex understood that none of it mattered. Not one bit. No matter what happened to her, she was still alone and drinking the same convenience-store champagne. “Want some of this blow, babe?” Nick sniffed and dropped his head back with a slight shake, giving the chemicals a little jumpstart in the brain he liked to say. “No thanks,” she said, “I don’t want to mix tonight.” Alex turned her attention from the scrubby hillside to handsome Nick Sirianni sitting across from her, casually relaxed in his Armani tuxedo. Though he favored stiff Wall Street suits, Nick was always casually relaxed due to the fact that he was worth millions from a Hollywood Midas touch. Alex heard Leonard Cohen’s gravel-rubbed, breathless voice floating faintly through the air, crooning his patented melancholy love proclamations, and she couldn’t help but let her eyes wander along Nick’s impeccably tailored suit. Her hands absently grazed the familiar bluish-purple marks on her wrists currently hidden under make-up. Nick’s thin lips curled into a slow, understanding grin. “Fine, but I have some X for later, and I don’t care what you’ve taken already,” he said in a tone Alex had learned not to question. “I’ve got plans for you, babe.” “I guess it’s gonna be a long night.” “The longest ever.” Alex could tell he had taken off. She absently twirled a lock of her black, shoulder-length hair. “Hey,” Nick nudged her leg with his polished leather dress shoe, “let me see.” “Not right now.” “I’m not asking, Alley Cat. Let me see. And do it right.” Alex locked eyes with him, but she relented. She found the fold of her straight wraparound skirt of crepe and beading that draped to the floor. She peeled it back and uncrossed her legs beneath the gown, giving Nick a peek-a-boo of her narrow ankle and high-heeled foot. She loosened her knees, proving to Nick she’d followed his instructions. Nick looked her over and loosened his collar. “Good girl,” Nick said and shifted toward her, the leather seat creaking beneath him. He knelt between her legs and softly traced the length of her pale grey stocking from her shoe, along her leg, up to the matching garter, and over her supple brown thigh exposed between the garter and its straps. Nick kissed her just above where the stockings ended. He breathed in deeply and peered up to her. “I gotta have a taste, baby,” he said and dipped his handsome face between her thighs. Alex sighed and sank back into her seat. How did things get so out of control? Isn’t tonight supposed to be everything I’ve worked for? Everything I’ve sacrificed for? Or, what I’ve sacrificed everyone for? Alex knew she had purposely cut off anyone who had the misfortune of ever giving a damn about her. And there were such people. It certainly wasn’t Nick. She’d made her deal with this particular devil nearly a year ago. Things between them were comfortably tawdry. Nick owned her. She knew it. He knew it. They had an understanding. A flicker nudged her: so many things that could have been. She took another swig of champagne, letting the alcohol’s fizz and burn push everything back into the darkness. Alex registered Nick’s velvet tongue expertly stroking her crevices, and she couldn’t help but give him all the access he wanted. She felt him smile when she dropped her head back and settled deeper into the limo’s bench. The car halted forward and the lazy, swaying sax turned up the tension in Cohen’s sonic plea for love. Alex peered beyond the cracked sunroof, searching the starless LA sky for some answers. A corner of the tinted sunroof caught her faint reflection and she saw a vacant-eyed, thirty two-year-old wasted stranger. She’d never known herself less than at this moment. Her passion for work was burned out and, even tonight, she couldn’t muster excitement. Now, everything was just a game requiring too much effort. She shut her eyes tight and sucked in air sharply, breathing in the car’s mixture of broken-in leather and artificial lemon scents. She clasped at Nick’s broad shoulder, wringing the expensive jacket sleeve as if it were nothing more than a cheap cocktail napkin. After a moment, she relaxed. Nick brushed a sweet kiss on her inner thigh before he returned the thin black crepe material of her skirt to its full length. He slid back to his seat across from her and smoothed his hair back. “Damn, you taste good, honey.” He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “We’re next in line, ma’am,” the chauffeur’s voice crackled through the intercom. The limo moved into place with a definite stop. Nick grinned. “It’s show time, Alley Cat.” The cool night air took Alex by surprise as she waded into the sea of people and flashing cameras. She staggered, unsure she could move. “One foot in front of the other,” Nick said in his soft voice through her hair. “I’ll get you a drink once we get inside.” Alex smiled serenely and nodded. She focused on the live band somewhere in the distance belting out a Sinatra standard. Her eyes found the majestic Griffith Observatory looming in the distance, hovering above the white party tents. Inside, the camera flashes kept coming. “And here we are,” Nick offered as he swiped a couple of champagne flutes from a roving waiter’s tray. “This should get ya right, babe.” Alex took the glass automatically. Another bulb flashed near her and she saw blue sprinkles. She regained focus quickly, but then her stomach dropped. Across the room was the last person she wanted to see.
◊◊◊
Jamie Douglas stood out in any crowd. Angular looks punctuated by oceanic blue eyes, a naturally lean athleticism, and down-to-earth boyishness had made him a reigning movie star around the world for almost twenty years. And right now, Alex saw Jamie’s eyes find hers through the crowd. When they caught each other, a flash sparked between them like one of those popping camera bulbs. Jamie’s surprised look gave way to a lopsided grin; it was a look so familiar to her. Alex registered Nick snake his arm around her thin waist and she broke her gaze from Jamie. “Okay, Alley Cat, time for our victory lap.” “Perfect timing,” she said. Timing—everything always came down to timing. It seemed to her that her timing had always been off. Not crazy off, just that extra millisecond that pushed everything either too early or too late. And now, she understood that it was too late. Suddenly, she couldn’t bear to go through with the whole charade of tonight. Maybe, she couldn’t even bear to go through with the whole charade of her life any longer. Just leave, a soft voice whispered inside her head. There’s nothing written you have to stick around. It’s practically programmed into your DNA that you’ll be checking out of this world early. All at once, Alex understood that simple fact. She, Alex Moreno, would leave Los Angeles tonight as anonymously as she had arrived nearly a decade earlier. She knew that wasn’t an entirely accurate account of how she’d started. Now I’m alone, and that’s just how I knew things would always turn out. Author Bio: Liza Treviño hails from Texas, spending many of her formative years on the I-35 corridor of San Antonio, Austin and Dallas. In pursuit of adventure and a Ph.D., Liza moved to Los Angeles where she compiled a collection of short-term, low-level Hollywood jobs like script girl, producer assistant and production assistant. Her time as a Hollywood Jane-of-all-trades gave her an insider's view to a world most only see from the outside, providing the inspiration for creating a new breed of Latina heroine.
New Adult/Sports Romance
Date Published: May 31, 2016, June 28, 2016 and Feb 14, 2017
Publisher: Limitless Publishing
After a devastating accident, Aurora Crane's collegiate gymnastics career comes to an abrupt end…
Fighting to piece her life back together, Aurora packs up and transfers to California State to start anew. When she arrives, her focus is on schoolwork and choosing a new career. But to her surprise, destiny has other plans…
Sucked into the world of competitive breakdancing, Aurora comes toe-to-toe with the hottest B-Boy of them all…
An arrogant hothead, Mitch Adachi—or B-Boy Kickwit as he is more commonly known—has life all figured out. He breakdances all day, practicing for upcoming competitions that are sure to challenge his skills—which means he has no time for distractions.
When the new girl steps into the scene, he sees an opportunity he can’t pass up…
Besides finding Aurora devastatingly attractive, he can’t help but notice her skills. He quickly develops high hopes for the ex-gymnast, seeing her as the perfect potential crewmember for the impending high stakes Battle of the Crews competition. All she needs is some fine-tuning.
When the two commit to a business relationship, a different kind of passion kicks into high gear. There’s no denying they groove well together, but there’s a chance mixing high-stakes competition with a fierce romance might lead to…
Breaking Promises.
Estelle Donovan knew college would force her out of her wallflower ways—but she never dreamed how far…
Known as shy and insecure, eighteen-year-old Estelle left for college with the hope it would bring an adventure of excitement and discovery, and give her plenty of room to spread her wings. But she couldn't have predicted how many changes she’d face—or that one of them would be named Jacob…
Jacob Silas—or B-Boy Spinja, as he’s called—isn’t just another college heartthrob…
After meeting Jacob, Estelle is determined to win his heart. When she stumbles into his world of breakdance, she falls in love with its culture, music, people, and most of all—the realm of competitive dance. For once in her life, the spotlight shines on her, forcing her out of her introvert ways.
But just like life, love is unpredictable…
When Estelle’s plan to win over Jacob backfires, even a new, exciting life can’t heal her broken heart. And as the years pass, Estelle lives with heartache of a once in a lifetime love slipping through her fingers.
Will they ever have a second chance at love? Or will Jacob continue with his dangerous trend of…
Breaking Hearts?
A one-night stand that changes her life forever…
Mallory Carmichael is a pianist who just lost out on the biggest solo of her life. To ease the sting, she heads to the club, where she meets Asher Nolan—a sexy dancer with wicked confidence in his eyes. Mallory loses herself in a night of carefree passion. Little did she know that one hookup could turn her world upside down.
A man who knows what he wants, and how to get it…
Asher—or B-boy Hellhound as he is known in the breakdance scene—is a TV and movie star. He’s used to winning…until his breakdancing game spirals out of control.
After an uncharacteristic loss, Asher becomes convinced the mysterious girl from the club jinxed him. Wanting to reverse the hex, he searches for her online, and it’s not long before #Search4Mallory goes viral.
Mallory didn’t think she’d ever see Asher again, but when she discovers he’s searching for her, she agrees to meet…and quickly regrets it.
She soon discovers how crazy a man like Asher can make her…
Asher convinces Mallory to help him find a supernatural cure for the “hookup jinx.” Navigating the world of mysticism may be challenging, but it’s even harder for them to ignore their growing attraction.
Can Asher ignore the temptation to hook up with his ‘jinx’ once again?
Will Mallory find the right balance between her crazy rehearsal schedule and helping Asher?
One thing is for sure, the only way to get over this hex is by Breaking Free.
About the Author
Thanks to her Mom’s unwavering devotion to read a childhood bedtime story to her every single night, S. BRIONES LIM’s love for books began before she could even speak.
Raised in Southern California, Lim initially dreamt of becoming an artist. After a Psychology Degree (Summa cum Laude), a stint in Art School, and a career in Advertising/Media she is finally diving back into her first love – books. As a self-renowned bookworm, Lim’s love for reading has inspired her to pen her own novels and hopes her readers will fall in love with her stories as much as she enjoys writing them.
Her obsessions include time with family, Cherry Coke, popcorn with jalapeños, watching movies and her dogs, Tobi and Roscoe. She currently lives in Virginia with her husband.
Contact Links
Pinterest: @sbrioneslim
Purchase Links
Amazon
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