Monday, July 22, 2019

[blog tour] Pharoah's Star by Olivia Hardy Ray




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Science Fiction, mystery, fantasy
Date Published: February 6, 2018
Publisher: Chattercreek


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The mystery that unfolds on a dark, eerie back road in upstate New York sends Nick Dowling on a frantic quest to understand his past. What he discovers about himself slowly drives him toward madness. Where does the truth unfold, in mystery or in the dream? Is truth the illusion he can't embrace? Just who is Nick Dowling?











About the Author

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Olivia Hardy Ray is the pen name for Vera Jane Cook, who is the author of Dancing Backward in Paradise, 2007 winner of the Indie Excellence Award for notable new fiction and an Eric Hoffer Award for publishing excellence, also in 2007. Dancing Backward in Paradise received a 5 Star Review from ForeWord Clarion. The Story of Sassy Sweetwater was a finalist for the ForeWord Clarion Book of the Year Award and the recipient of a five star review from ForeWord Clarion. Where the Wildflowers Grow was her third southern fiction novel and is receiving 5 star reviews from Amazon.com. Her latest southern fiction novel just released is Pleasant Day. Her woman’s fiction novel is Lies a River Deep and the soon to be released ‘Kismet’. Under her pen name she is also the author of Annabel Horton, Lost Witch of Salem, and Pharaoh's Star. The sequel to Annabel Horton, Lost Witch of Salem is Annabel Horton and the Black Witch of Pau. That novel will be released this summer. Jane, as she is called by friends and family, writes in the genres she loves: southern fiction, women's fiction, mystery and fantasy paranormal fiction. She lives on the Upper West Side of Manhattan with her spouse, her Basenji/Chihuahua mix, Roxie, her Dachshund, Karly, her Chihuahua, Peanut, and her two pussycats, Sassy and Sweetie Pie.


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Saturday, July 20, 2019

[blog tour] Wicked Passion by Amanda J. Greene







Paranormal Romance
Date Published: 6/25/2019

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James Stonewoll is an Elite Assassin for the Under Realm Syndicate—an expert hunter and merciless killer. As a former pirate, he thrives on danger, the more perilous the mission, the better and he can't resist his newest contract: eliminate a rebel shape-shifting magic thief that stalks the border of the Under Realm kidnapping and murdering innocent Others. But never did the centuries old vampire anticipate playing hero to a mythical temptress with luscious curves, tantalizing lips, and hypnotic eyes.


Captured and held prisoner, Katya Moro was trapped in a seemingly endless loop of unimaginable agony as her magic was slowly being torn from her soul. A gasp away from death, she is rescued by a sinful kiss and awakens in the strong arms of a powerful warrior whose roguish smile, sharp fangs, and intense strength unlock dormant instincts within her, an all-consuming madness that demands complete surrender.


Gazing down at her, James knew he had to kill her. Dark Magic Wielders, like the beautiful female he’d found, were a grave threat to human society and were not permitted to roam the mortal world. But Katya’s smoky voice and sweet kisses stir a fierce hunger inside him. She is unpredictable, uncontrollable and wickedly seductive—his perfect kind of dangerous. To keep her safe, James will protect her from the magic thieves that hunt her and his fellow assassins until he can find a way to return Katya to her home in the Under Realm.
Can Katya’s passion conquer the darkness within his soul?





About the Author







Amanda J. Greene is the author of the captivating Rulers of Darkness and enticing Under Realm Assassins series. Fans of Nalini Singh’s, Gena Showalter, and J.R. Ward will fall in love with Ms. Greene’s dangerously sexy heroes and strong, kick your teeth in heroines.

She lives in Southern California with her supportive military husband and their two fur babies—a sweet cocker spaniel and a rambunctious black mouth cur mix. Between working full time in higher education and family life, she finds time to write and create detailed worlds with exciting characters for her ravenous readers.

"Amanda's vampires are seriously sexy and I can't get enough!" - Kristina's Books & More


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Friday, July 19, 2019

[book blitz] Fractured by Elle Charles


Fractured
Elle Charles
(Fractured, #1)
Publication date: May 7th 2014
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
How do you learn to remember when you have forced yourself to forget?
How do you learn to trust when those who were meant to protect you failed?
Catering assistant, Kara Petersen, leads a quiet, monotonous life until a simple twist of fate changes everything.
The sparks fly when Kara meets handsome, enigmatic, Sloan Foster. Dominant in the boardroom and successful in the bedroom, he always gets what he wants – and he wants her.
Captivated by his charm and aloof confidence, Kara is drawn to him in a way she has never been to anyone before. Aware something isn’t quite right, and against her better judgement, she concedes his intense allure is too strong to resist and their innocent fling swiftly develops into something she could never have imagined.
But in this outwardly perfect world of wealth and glamour, all that glitters isn’t gold. And as the mystery behind the man begins to slowly unravel, so does her life.
Now, with her heart and trust on the line, Kara is learning more about herself than she ever thought possible, from a man who seemingly knows more than he should. And the memories she forced herself to forget, are the ones she now desperately needs to remember…
Fractured is the first gripping instalment of Elle Charles’ dark, contemporary, romantic suspense series. Featuring unpredictable plot twists and endearing characters, this sensual, compelling saga of enduring love, ceaseless passion and sacrifice will keep you turning pages until the very end!
Perfect for fans of Sylvia Day, E L James, Aleatha Romig and Helen Hardt.
Download your copy now and become addicted to a new series!
AUTHOR’S NOTE:
Please be advised this book is not a standalone novel. It is the first in the Fractured series, and the story develops and unravels over the course of the first three books. Each book is full length (between 326 and 450 pages each) and must be read in order.
This is a dark contemporary romance novel. It contains sexual scenes and controversial subject matter (including triggers) that some may find upsetting. Intended for readers aged 18+
This novel is a new edition that has been re-edited and revised – 27 July 2018.
Get Fractured FREE!
The complete series:

CHAPTER ONE:
I slowly take in the room; clean lines of glass and dark wood, expensive fabrics and leather. Opulence seems to be a running theme here from what I can see. Rich shades of cream and brown finish the room beautifully. The whole place screams money and success, and it’s absolutely stunning. Suddenly, I realise why the man downstairs eyed me like shit; I don’t belong here, and neither does Sam. I bite down on my lip to suppress the panic rising up from the confines of my stomach.
Then the door clicks shut behind me.
I spin around, and my mouth dries out almost instantly, as I prepare myself to come face to face with the sneering, dirty bastard again.
Oh. Holy. Fuck!
It’s not the sneering, dirty bastard.
I wilt where I stand. My lungs actually stop operating momentarily, and my heart shudders like it has been finally shocked from a long, deep slumber. My whole body currently feels on fire for some unknown, inexplicable reason.
“I have already had my doctor take a look at her. She seems to be fine, just, well…she’s high.”
He folds his impressive, muscular arms over his equally impressive, muscular chest, and he leans back against the closed door. My eyes drop to his feet, and ever so slowly, work their way up his body. Tanned bare feet, long muscular legs and thick thighs, wrapped up in worn, faded blue jeans. The fitted white t-shirt encasing his torso does nothing to hide the perfectly defined ridges of his stomach, chest and shoulders. The outlines are more than visible underneath the stretched fabric. I gulp excessively, open-mouthed and speechless, at the faultless specimen of male perfection towering over me.
I stare up at him, my lips part and my eyes widen. His face is heavenly; beautiful, naturally bronzed skin, a strong, chiselled jaw, set under perfect cheekbones. His nose is straight and flawlessly proportioned. He has the darkest, yet clearest midnight blue eyes I have ever seen. In fact, I’m positive I have never seen such a colour before. He seems piqued by my stare, and there is nothing I can do to stop it.
My hands clench at my sides in desperation, and my tongue slides over my bottom lip. All I can think about is running my hands over his sexy, slightly too long dark locks, while his tongue….
Oh my God! What the hell?!
A nervous feeling wells up in my stomach, twisting into knots deep in my gut. I place a hand over my belly, but the feeling shifts south and suddenly can I feel heat pooling at my core profusely. His eyes remain locked on mine, and I’m dying to rub my thighs together to alleviate the tension that is building immensely.
I chew my lip timidly. Is he aware of what I am doing and that he’s instigating it? He smirks a little. Of course, he’s aware! Look at him! Any woman would be brain dead not to want him. Even my asexual self is not immune, judging by the way my body is reacting to him.
He arches up an eyebrow over his stunning dark blue, now virtually black eyes. He is fully aware that I am shamelessly checking him out, amongst other things, while my poor friend is lying in pain only a few feet away. I mentally scold myself for such uncharacteristic behaviour. Yet I can’t help it, this man has ignited something in me. I can’t even begin to fathom where it is coming from.
I need to get out of here.
I need to get away from him.
Feeling painfully aware, I wrap my arms around my middle and shift from one foot to the other, desperate to eradicate these alien sensations bubbling copiously inside my body. He remains motionless watching me, leaving me feeling exposed and vulnerable under his roving eye. The way he’s studying me makes me want to run for cover. I don’t know what it is, but there is a familiarity in his eyes that is unmistakable. I also don’t misinterpret the ghost of a smile forming on his lips.
Somewhere, I think I have seen him before.
“Thank you,” I whisper, averting my eyes, desperately trying to control the heat my body is emanating. I don’t know what else to say. All words have left me, and for the first time in my life, I actually feel something that I can definitely say I have not experienced previously.
Sexual attraction.
It is something that no man has ever elicited in me, not even come close to.
Well, maybe once, many years ago.



Author Bio:
Elle was born and raised in Yorkshire, England, where she still resides.
After many years of putting aside her creative ideas, in 2012, she was inspired to write again. The surprising result was her debut, contemporary romance novel, Fractured. The first of the series, books two and three, Tormented and Liberated, followed in close succession, along with the accompanying novella, Aftermath.
A self-confessed daydreamer, she loves to create strong, sexy and diverse characters, cocooned in opulent yet realistic settings that draw the reader in with every twist and turn until the very last page.
A voracious reader for as long as she can remember, she is never without her beloved Kindle. When she is not absorbed in the newest release or a trusted classic, she can often be found huddled over her laptop, tapping away new ideas and plots for forthcoming works.

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Thursday, July 18, 2019

[book blitz] Lineage by C. Vonzale Lewis


Lineage
C. Vonzale Lewis
Publication date: July 16th 2019
Genres: Adult, Fantasy
Smart-mouthed Nicole Fontane has a way of getting herself into trouble. She’s been fired from every job she’s had but still refuses to work in her father’s apothecary shop because of his practice of Earth Magick. On Tulare Island where Nicole grew up, Magick has always been a way of life—one she’s determined to avoid at all costs.
With less than two hundred dollars in the bank and rent due, Nicole is forced to take a job at Tribec Insurance as a last resort. Little does she realize, the moment she sets foot inside the building, she becomes a pawn. A sinister force has set its sights on her and will stop at nothing to use her in a sadistic game.
Tribec’s proprietors, the Stewart family, are curiously preoccupied with the Naqada, the mysterious pre-dynastic Egyptian society. Nicole finds it creepy, but on the bright side, the job reconnects her with her estranged friend, Marta. Yet the eerie atmosphere, disappearing Magick wards, and the smell of blood inside Tribec bring Nicole to a startling conclusion—the Stewarts are practicing Blood Magick, the deadliest of the Five Principles. By the time Nicole uncovers the truth, Marta and her four children have gone missing, and all signs implicate the Stewarts and an archaic blood ritual to an Old One, a Naqada god imprisoned on Tulare Island.
Battling the evil of Blood Magick will demand Nicole to confront a hidden past and unlock the Magick buried within. But can she set aside her deep-rooted fears to work with a team of vigilante Mages? Or will the clock run out on Marta and her children—and on Nicole?
CHAPTER ONE:
Looking for bright, responsible, career-oriented, self-motivated individuals who have excellent people skills and are able to take high volumes of calls while maintaining a positive attitude. Ability to work with others is a must.
I glanced down at the advertisement in my hand. I had none of those qualifications according to my last employer—and pretty much all my other previous ones as well. I was, however, a “foul-mouthed, bad-tempered, under-performing”—still didn’t understand that one—“sarcastic, waste of space.” Although, to be fair, only one of the previous employers actually called me a waste of space, and that was because I had stopped sleeping with him.
This unfortunate lack of options was the reason I stood in the parking lot of Tribec Insurance, smoking the last of my apple-flavored cigars—a habit I learned from my father—wearing a cream-colored dress suit and a pair of matching pumps. I couldn’t afford either of them, and I really hated pumps. But I needed the job, so I dressed the part of the career-oriented, self-motivated candidate the ad was searching for.
Most of the jobs in the area required a college degree, or at least several years of experience. I had no college degree, and the longest I’d ever been employed at one job was six months. Thankfully, Tribec Insurance was always hiring and had no such requirements—a rarity in the uptight community of Alice where Tribec was located.
Through a ring of cigar smoke, I took in the phallic structure that was Tribec Insurance. My eyes landed on the small, stone, pyramid-like shape at the top of the building. It reminded me of an Egyptian Obelisk—a symbol to the god Ra. The Egyptian word for it, “Tejen,” meant “protection” or “defense.”
Why would the occupants of Tribec Insurance erect a symbol of protection or defense on top of the building?
A slight breeze blew over my bare arms, carrying the salty scent of the ocean and stirring the beads of sweat that had formed on them. My new blouse had molded to my back, and my feet had started to sweat. I was generally used to Tulare Island’s oppressive heat, but the anxious jitters in my stomach had caused my skin to flush.
I tried to dispel the nervousness in my stomach. Despite the obvious, I didn’t want to show that I was desperate. My best friend Kara spent most of last night trying to prep me for the interview. She advised me to not ask annoying questions, make sarcastic comments, or let my disgruntled attitude show.
Essentially, she advised me to not be myself. There was a message in there somewhere, but I was choosing to ignore it.
Out of our original group in high school, Kara was the only one who was still in my life. The only one who actually gave a damn about me. Marta and I hadn’t spoken in years, and as for Steve… Well, it was a long time ago.
I glanced at my watch. Damn. I guess I had procrastinated long enough. I put out my cigar, grabbed my blazer from the front seat of my car, shoved the advertisement back in my overly large purse, and headed for the building. As I walked, I attempted to wrap my head around the fact that I was essentially asking Tribec Insurance to let me spend my days chained to a desk, listening to complaints from strangers.
Maybe I should look into prostitution. At least I’d enjoy the job.
Kara also told me to smile a lot, so I pasted one on, pulled open the glass door, and stepped inside. Only to stop dead in my tracks at the entrance.
The walls—painted a burnt gold color that reminded me of the sunset—were lined with Egyptian art. Four glass displays, filled with half-head replicas of deities and artifacts, sat in each corner of the room. Green foliage hung from black ceramic pots near the entrance and the elevator. Something was off about the elevator. It wasn’t stainless-steel. No, more like marble. Black marble with gold striations that, at first glance, appeared to be moving. Odd.
And everything, including the guard station—which sat sunken into the foundation in the middle of the floor—was set up in a spherical configuration. Directly behind the guard station was a set of mahogany double doors, with gold Egyptian hieroglyphs carved around the frame. They were also etched around the guard station.
Most people on Tulare Island either practiced one of the four principles of magick or knew someone who did. There was, however, a small group of people who, despite the evidence, still refused to believe in magick. They usually carried picket signs outside of herbal and occult shops, telling people they were going to burn in hell, not realizing they were actually practicing faith magick every time they went to church.
Judging from the set-up of the room, and even the obelisk on the top of the building outside, I could hazard a guess—more like an assumption—that the occupants of Tribec Insurance practiced magick.
Despite my assumption, I couldn’t figure out which of the four principles—earth, elemental, mind, or faith—the people at Tribec used. There was, however, a fifth principle—blood—that to my knowledge, no one practiced anymore. And sadly, I didn’t know enough about it to recognize any symbols associated with its practice. Yet, symbols from the other four were etched all over the walls. Odd. Especially since people only had the ability to practice one. Not all four.
If it was a job requirement for me to use magick, I was running the hell out of here. I would live in a cardboard box before I got involved with magick. And if I didn’t get a job soon, that was exactly where I’d be living. Especially since I refused to move back in with my parents. I had to grow the hell up sometime.
I moved farther into the lobby; the scent of desert sand wafted around me. It had that baked-on smell that emanated off the ground when the sun was at its peak. It was unusual, but the d├ęcor could explain the smell. Especially if they added sand to some of the displays for authenticity. The odor that was definitely out of place was the one directly underneath it.
Blood. It was faint. I could almost chalk it up to imagination. Almost. If it wasn’t so overpowering.
I moved forward cautiously, my heels clicking on the white-tiled floor, as I tried to pinpoint where the scent was coming from. But the farther away from the door I got, the less I smelled it. I turned and started back toward where I’d first detected the smell. A chair creaked, stopping me in my tracks. The space between my shoulder blades started to itch. I turned.
The guard behind the desk was watching me.
I stood there, debating whether or not I should just leave. Yes, I was desperate, but the smell of blood? Was I imagining it? I pulled in a deep breath, trying to find the scent again. Nothing.
Get it together, Nicole.
After a short pause, I shook myself mentally, and continued toward the guard station with the guard’s black eyes boring into me. Sizing me up.
“Can I help you, miss?” He rose to his feet and crossed his arms across his chest.
I placed him in his late twenties. He had a solid frame, close-cropped black hair, deep set black eyes, and no facial hair. The dark brown suit he wore looked as if it had been poured onto him. Had to be ex-military.
The gold tag on his shirt read “Oliver Strong.” It suited him.
“Yes, my name is Nicole Fontane, and I’m here for an interview with…” I set my purse on the counter, ignoring his pointed glare, and pulled out my tattered notebook. “…a Francine Delaporte at eleven.”
“Have a seat. I will call someone down to escort you.” He inclined his head in the direction of the red leather couch on the right.
“Okay, thanks,” I said as I mentally extended my middle finger. Everything about him rubbed me the wrong damn way.
I sat and placed my purse beside me on the couch—the damn thing weighed a ton—and picked up one of the brochures for Tribec Insurance. While I sat there leafing through it, another security guard walked up and blocked my view of the sun. Well, he would have if there had been one inside the building. This burly bastard had tree trunks for arms and a head that resembled a boulder. Did they chisel him from a mountain?
“Ms. Fontane?” the guard grumbled. It sounded as if his voice came from a gut full of rocks.
I stood, which put me at eye level to his massive chest and the name tag pinned to his shirt that read “Duncan Glass.”
Maybe when they hired their guards, they assigned them names as well.
“Yes.” I tried to push myself up a few inches more. I was already wearing three-inch heels, bringing my total height to five nine, yet this massive behemoth still towered over me.
“Follow me.” He spun around abruptly and led the way to the elevator.
I was tempted to salute him, or give him the finger—the damn bossy bastard.
Calm down, Nicole. You need this job.
Duncan pulled a card from his pocket and inserted it into a slot located on the right side. I guess that answered my question about the oddity of the elevator. Besides the strange composition, they didn’t have a call button. They sure did have a high level of security for an insurance company. Maybe they denied more claims than they approved. Greedy bastards.
When the doors slid open, Duncan extended his arm out. “Ms. Fontane.”
I stepped inside.
Once the doors were closed, he inserted his card into another slot, and a display lit up with a list of floors.
The number thirteen was among them.
I had once read somewhere that all older buildings either omitted the thirteenth floor or renamed it. It all stemmed from a superstition that the thirteenth floor was unlucky. I wasn’t superstitious, but I did find it interesting they chose to include it.
“They have a thirteenth floor,” I said.
“It comes after twelve.”
While I was no stranger to snide comments I really didn’t like others using them on me. Bastard.
A few moments later, the elevator doors opened and, thankfully, deposited us on the seventeenth floor. I followed Duncan to a set of offices in the center of the floor. He stopped at the first door in a row of three that faced the elevators. The silver name plate affixed to it read: Francine Delaporte. After he rapped on it three times, he planted his feet a few inches apart and placed his hands behind his back.
Maybe Duncan thought he was still in the military.
I took in the room while I waited. Cameras inside small black orbs dotted the ceiling. A hazy gray tint covered the windows, allowing minimal light to filter into the room. Industrial gray walls sported a few framed “inspirational” quotes that referred to “teamwork” and “having a positive attitude.” They even had the stupid “Hang in There” poster with a cat hanging off a wire.
Even the partitions that divided the employees’ desks were gray. The only break up in the ashen color were the fake wood desks.
It reminded me of a mental asylum.
The majority of the people in the office were women, with a few men thrown in here and there. Did they believe women were more suited to talking on the phone? Either way, everyone in the room was pasty, their eyes sunken in, wearing expressions that suggested they had given up on life. I wouldn’t have been surprised if they were all former tenants of the asylum, dressed up in over-sized clothes and forced into the role of “employee.”
The fact that no one looked up when Duncan and I got off the elevator supported my theory. They just sat there in their little black chairs, talking into their headsets, all repeating what sounded like the same practiced spiel in monotonous tones, a few minutes behind one another. Like a rolling set of waves crashing against the most boring shore imaginable.
I turned back to Duncan. He still stood at ease in front of Francine Delaporte’s door. What the hell was taking this woman so long? My feet were killing me. Like an idiot, instead of breaking the shoes in after Kara left last night, I had curled up on the couch with a bottle of Samuel Adams, contemplating my limited options. My little pity party of one ended at midnight when I realized my only option was one I wasn’t willing to entertain.
As I switched my purse from my right shoulder to my left, I caught sight of a faint circular line drawn around the cubicles. I stared at the ground, unsure if I was seeing things, or if there really was a line drawn on the floor. I straightened and moved to the left, trying to follow it. As I stood there transfixed, someone brushed their frigid hand across my exposed neck.
Coldness raced down my spine, and the scent of sand filled my nostrils.
I whipped around.
Duncan was gone.
In his place stood a woman wearing a red paint suit. Given that she was at least five feet away from me with her hands down at her sides… Who the hell had touched my neck?
Francine extended her hand and smiled. “Hello. Ms. Fontane?”
I stepped forward, my legs suddenly weak, and took her hand. “Hi.” I cleared my throat. “Yes, I’m Nicole Fontane.”
“I’m Francine Delaporte. Let’s get started.” She let go of my hand and walked into her office.
I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to warm the sudden chill that had settled there. I glanced around the room. The employees remained at their desks, staring rapt at their computer screens.
A cool breeze circled the room, pulling my gaze toward the ceiling. An air vent sat directly above me.
Before I entered Francine’s office, I glanced down at the floor. The markings were gone. Maybe I had imagined them. And maybe the air-conditioning explained the feeling of someone brushing their fingers across my neck.
Yes—for sanity’s sake, I was going to go with that.
Just my overactive imagination.



Author Bio:
My name is Carla Vonzale Lewis and I like my martini’s shaken…never stirred. I was born in Georgia but please don’t mistaken me for a Georgia peach. I’m more like a prickly pear. Speaking of being born, someone asked me recently if I remember my birth. And I have to say, yes, I do remember that handsy doctor pulling me out into the cold. Right Bastard!!!

Despite being born in the South, I grew up in the North. California to be exact. Every once in a great while we get to experience all four seasons. But mostly, it’s just heat. You should see our electric bill in the summer! I like the beaches, but not the sand. I enjoy being outside, but the sun gets on my nerves. Does it really need to send its death ray to a single spot on my skin! (I told you I was a prickly pear) And don’t get me started on the traffic.

The first part of my life, I worked in customer service. This line of work led to the discovery of my favorite drink, or, rather, several favorite drinks. I could list the many concoction but that would go on forever!

Needless to say, it wasn’t an easy job. But I did enjoy talking with people. And when it came time to develop my characters, I drew on those experiences.

I have a degree in Fashion Design. Don’t ask. The only thing I gained from those wasted two years of my life, is being introduced to the love of my life, Bobby. He is truly my rock.

Why do I write? Well my first book, LINEAGE, answered the question, “What does the big boss actually do all day?” I might have gone a little dark with my answer, but it was fun answering the question. But mainly, I love writing because it gives me power to create. And it also gives me the power to fix this broken world.

Truthfully, I’ve always loved the written word and the way a good book could take you to another place and time. Instead of hanging out in the lunchroom, I would go to the library and create stories or bury my head in a really good book.

I started writing my first novel in 2014 and 30 days later I had a collection of scenes that needed some serious revision. And that was where the fun came in. Over the course of several years my novel went through final draft after final draft until I finally came to…you guessed it, the final draft.

When I’m not writing, I enjoy reading, binge watching shows on Netflix, and trying to convince my husband that getting a dog is a wonderful idea.

And one day, I will discover how many licks it actually takes to get to the center of a tootsie pop.

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Wednesday, July 17, 2019

[blog tour] Curtains for Romeo by Jessa Archer




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Coastal Playhouse Mysteries #1
Cozy Mystery
Publisher: Archer Mysteries
Date Published: July 9, 2019


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ROMEO, ROMEO, WHEREFORTH ART THOU?
Acting jobs are scarce now for former TV teen detective Antigone Alden. So when a teaching position opens up at Southern Coastal University, Tig packs up her teenage daughter and heads home to the Outer Banks of North Carolina.

The house she inherited from her mother isn't entirely empty, however. Her mom seems stuck between this life and the next, and now Tig is a local reporter's prime suspect in the murder of the former theater professor. Given his reputation as ladies' man, there are plenty of people with a motive.

Tig isn't a detective. She just played one on TV. Will that be enough to help her find the killer?


About the author:

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Jessa Archer writes sweet, funny, warm-hearted cozy mysteries because she loves a good puzzle and can't stand the sight of blood. Her characters are witty, adventurous, and crafty in the nicest way. You'll find her sleuths hand lettering inspirational quotes, trying to lower golf handicaps, enjoying a scone at a favorite teashop, knitting a sweater, or showing off a dramatic side in local theater.

Jessa's done many things in her long career, including a stint as a journalist and practicing law. But her favorite job is spinning mysteries. She loves playing small-town sleuth and transporting readers to a world where the scones are delicious, wine pairs with hand lettering, and justice always prevails.


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[book blitz] A Game of Sins by Zurie Brunelle


A Game of Sins
Zurie Brunelle
(My Wicked Prayers, #1)
Publication date: June 30th 2019
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
Kenzie Adams wasn’t expecting to fall for Luke Bennett, the young, sexy priest-in-training. When she propositioned him it was for just one night in the Game of Sins.
Kenzie’s new college roommates at St. Theresa’s, an all-girl’s Catholic college, invited her to join them in a competition, handed her a scorecard, and explained that there were points for every sin they convinced the priests-in-training at the adjoining school to make.
Luke Bennett was just to be the first conquest, not the only man she can touch.
But Father Luke teaches her the power of obedience, and the pleasure at the edge of pain. He knows how to make her crave every sin, and soon Kenzie’s scorecard is forgotten. Luke plans to be a man of the cloth, but right now he is the answer to Kenzie’s every wicked prayer.
When her father discovers her fall from grace, Kenzie’s future comes rushing to the present in the shape of a forced engagement to a sexy young lawyer, Bastian, who has demanded Kenzie as a “signing bonus” for selecting her father’s firm. Torn between the priest she loves and the lawyer she will marry, Kenzie tries to find a way to get both what she needs and what she wants.
Kenzie, Luke, and Bastian’s story will continue in the book 3. Her roommate Astrid’s Wicked Prayers will pick up in book 2.
Intended for readers 18+. Book 1 in the series.
EXCERPT:
“What if I wasn’t that nice?” It was a strange kick to be thought of as nice. My own family thought of me as a slut. They didn’t say the word, but it was obvious my father was thinking it.
I wasn’t sure I disagreed, either. Maybe I’d have been different in a different life, but I liked sex. I liked the illusion of power that it gave me. My life was utterly out of my control. I liked moments of control.
“You seem nice,” Luke said in that kind way.
“You’re wrong, but I like that you think so,” I said, and then I pushed him a little more. “Were you dangerous, father?”
“Yes.”
“I like dangerous.” I stepped closer, standing as close as I could be without being inappropriate. “Tell me more.”
He clenched his jaw and looked away. “I’m not sure what you’re trying to do here.”
“Flirt . . .?” I said it like it was a question, but it wasn’t.
He nodded to a group of seminarians. When they were gone, he asked, “Why?”
“I’m bored. You’re interesting.” I leaned in and stretched up on my tip-toes. “And you’re sexy.”
He stared at my mouth, so I let my lips part. I made an approving noise as his eyes dilated and then I whispered, “And I’m not actually sweet or nice. If you knew what I was really thinking, you’d know that.”
He said nothing more, simply motioned me forward and walked me to the dorms. Whatever happened next, I knew already that that he was interested. The question was if he was going to act on it.
We walked across campus in the dark. He stayed an appropriate distance from me, and I figured that I’d let him do whatever he chose. I’d given him the invitation, assured him that I was interested, removed the risk of rejection. I was a sure thing. Knowing that was typically enough to make a man go from maybe to yes.
Several quiet moments passed and then he glanced over at me. I smiled and lowered my gaze, waiting. We kept walking, and I said nothing more.
When we reached the place where he would have to leave me, he quietly accepted the bait I’d offered and asked, “What were you really thinking?”
“I was imagining you fucking me on the pool table,” I said. “I’ll imagine it when I’m in my room, naked in my bed, too. Think about it with every stroke.”
“You can’t—”
“Oh, I can, Father Luke,” I assured him. “Do you fuck slowly? Deliberately? Or would you pound into me, desperate from having had no release in so long?”
He stared at me. His breathing was heavier. He was picturing it, too.
So, I continued, “Or do you still touch yourself, father?”
Luke swallowed, staring at me and refusing to answer.
“I wish I could watch,” I told him.
“Kenzie . . .”
Before walking away, I smiled and added, “Forgive me, father. I’m about to sin.”
He still stared at me. I could feel his gaze burning me up. I looked over my shoulder. When I glanced back, he still stood there, watching me.
So, I blew him a kiss.


Author Bio:
Zurie Brunelle considered a future in theology, but decided to become a teacher instead. She lives in a remote area with her partner and almost enough horses. She believes in God, the importance of joy, and that women ought to have a Constitutional Right to regular and frequent orgasms.

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Tuesday, July 16, 2019

[cover reveal] Moon Cursed by Nikki Jefford


Moon Cursed
Nikki Jefford
(Wolf Hollow Shifters, #4)
Publication date: Fall 2019
Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Post-Apocalyptic, Romance
Time is running out for Elsie.
Elsie’s coven always believed that she was moon cursed. Promised to the bear shifters before she was ever born, the witch wolf shifter has until her twentieth birthday to outsmart Brutus, her would-be mate who only wants her as payback.
To save his coven, her father made a terrible, magically binding agreement decades ago, never dreaming he’d have children, especially not powerful wolf shifters. Luckily, he never specified what type of shifter Elsie must claim.
Zackary doesn’t believe he deserves love or forgiveness.
Ever since he betrayed a packmate, Zackary has been making up for his sins. No matter what, he knows the truth. Once a mongrel, always a mongrel—just like his father always told him. Now the mad wolf has returned to torment Zackary and the pack.
Not one to be scared off, Elsie, the sweetest and loveliest of all females, refuses to believe he’s no good for anyone—especially her.
Fated mates or doomed lovers?
Zackary and Elsie never knew how strong their love would grow … until they’re in too deep.
Zackary betrayed Elsie’s brother once before. If the wizard shifter knew what he was doing with Elsie in private, Tabor would kill, maim, or use that dick shrinkage spell he once threatened him with.
With a meddlesome ex from her coven, who won’t let go, and a brute of a bear shifter intent on trapping her inside his cave forever, it will take more than magic to save Elsie from her curse.
Do these star-crossed lovers stand a chance?
Moon Cursed is a steamy, second chance romance about a bully longing for redemption, and a brazen she-wolf-witch who goes after what she wants—even after the entire pack warns her against following her heart.


Author Bio:
Nikki Jefford is an award-winning, bestselling author of paranormal romance, urban fantasy, and quirky combinations in-between.
She is a third-generation Alaskan now living in the Pacific Northwest with her Westie, Cosmo, and her French husband, who she wouldn't trade in for anyone--not even Spike or Mr. Darcy!
When she's not writing, she's reading, walking, or out riding her motorcycle, a Honda CB500F, (so long as it's sunny and warm)!
To get in on the fun and adventure, visit Nikki at her website for release alerts, updates, exclusive giveaways, and a free story when you subscribe to her newsletter: http://nikkijefford.com/

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[blog tour] Pharoah's Star by Olivia Hardy Ray

Science Fiction, mystery, fantasy Date Published: February 6, 2018 Publisher: Chattercreek The my...