Monday, August 24, 2015

Blog Tour: The Frost Series by Liz DeJesus

 
First Frost
The Frost Series Book # 1
By-Liz DeJesus
Publication Date- June 22nd, 2015
Published By - Indie Gypsy
 
Fairytales aren’t real…yeah…that’s exactly what Bianca thought. She was wrong.
 
For generations, the Frost family has run the Museum of Magical and Rare Artifacts, handing down guardianship from mother to daughter, always keeping their secrets to “family only.”
 
Gathered within museum’s walls is a collection dedicated to the Grimm fairy tales and to the rare items the family has acquired: Cinderella’s glass slipper, Snow White’s poisoned apple, the evil queen’s magic mirror, Sleeping Beauty’s enchanted spinning wheel…
 
Seventeen-year-old Bianca Frost wants none of it, dreaming instead of a career in art or photography or…well, anything except working in the family’s museum. She knows the items in the glass display cases are fakes because, of course, magic doesn’t really exist.
 
She’s about to find out how wrong she is.
 
Glass Frost
The Frost Series Book # 2
By- Liz DeJesus
Publication Date- June 22nd, 2015
 
When joined together, Cinderella's slippers grant the wearer her heart's desire. But whose wish will be granted?
 
When Cinderella’s glass slipper is stolen, Queen Felicia sends her faithful steward Terrance to the real world to retrieve his love and witch-in-training, Bianca Frost. The power of the glass slipper, when paired with its mate, and in the wrong hands, could ruin the peace of Everafter. Bianca must gather every bit of magic she has learned in the past few weeks to find the slipper and protect her new love. Together, Bianca, Ming, Prince Ferdinand, and Terrance venture deep into the heart of Everafter to seek clues as to who has stolen the slipper and why. Along the way, they uncover what happened to the Seven Dwarves after Snow White married the prince, but also learn the awful risk of tampering with black magic and the high price that must be paid for magic, even when used for good.
 
Bianca and Terrance’s relationship is put to the test. Through the pain of suffering and loss, Bianca must determine if following her gallant boyfriend into his faraway world is in fact her heart's desire.
 
  
 
Shattered Frost
The Frost Series # 3
By- Liz DeJesus
Publication Date- August 15th, 2015
 
Bianca Frost and her BFF Ming Lee return to Everafter to attend the Winter Ball with their boyfriends, Terrance and Prince Ferdinand. They were looking forward to a short vacation, especially Bianca, who is being bullied at school. She is looking forward to the day when she can finally graduate from high school. But all is not cute hair and fancy shoes as a mysterious count sets his sights on Bianca at the ball. When Count Jonathan Bleu kidnaps Bianca and Ming, the pair must do everything in their power to escape his clutches. In this amazing adventure, Bianca and Ming find themselves traveling down a rabbit hole, where they have to survive the madness of Wonderland in order to make it back home to the men they love.
 
Bianca and Ming must travel to the Queen of Hearts’ labyrinth, find Bluebeard’s key and save Jack of Hearts before Bianca loses everything she holds dear.
 
 
 
About the Author
 
Liz DeJesus was born on the tiny island of Puerto Rico.  She is a novelist and a poet. She has been writing for as long as she was capable of holding a pen. She is the author of the novel Nina (Blu Phi'er Publishing, October 2007), The Jackets (Arte Publico Press, March 2011) First Frost (Re-realeased through Indie Gypsy Summer 2015), Glass Frost (Re-released through Indie Gypsy Summer 2015), Shattered Frost (Indie Gypsy, Summer 2015) and Morgan (Indie Gypsy, July 2014). Her work has also appeared in Night Gypsy: Journey Into Darkness (Indie Gypsy, October 2012), Twice Upon a Time (Bearded Scribe Press, Winter 2015) and Someone Wicked (Smart Rhino Publications, Winter 2013).
 
Liz is currently working on a new novel and a comic book series titled Zombie Ever After (Emerald Star Comics, Fall 2014).
 
Please tell us about yourself using 3 verbs, 1 quirk and a pop culture addiction
Create, read, and cares. I am very messy. I’m obsessed with Once Upon a Time (and basically anything fairy tale related).
 
Top 3 Pet Peeves
People that chew with their mouth open.
People that don’t read
People that bump into you and don’t say ‘I’m sorry’ or ‘Excuse me’.
 
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Book Tour: Michael’s Awakening by Jaclyn Osborn with Giveaway

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Title: Michael’s Awakening
Author: Jaclyn Osborn
Published: June 16th, 2015
Publisher: Encompass Ink
Genre: MM Romance
Content Warning: Explicit sexual content, graphic violence
Recommended Age: 18+
 
Synopsis
 
One moment. That’s all it takes for life as you once knew it to change irrevocably. For Michael Kingston, that moment was when he first laid eyes on Gabriel. In his life, Michael had only known darkness, leaving behind a broken shell of a man. Unspeakable memories of his childhood constantly plagued him, causing him to disconnect emotionally from the world. No one had ever shown him love; therefore, he believed that he was unworthy of it. And then everything changed.
 
Gabriel Greyson had always been different. Growing up in a small, Bible-thumping town, his preferences for men, makeup, and fashion made him an outcast. But, with the support and love of his family, he overcame obstacles thrown his way and rose above the intolerance. He danced to the beat of his own glammed-out drum and refused to believe that he was anything other than ultra-fabulous. Working as a beautician, he had a job he adored and felt that everything was perfect in his life. Everything except for true love.
 
When these two men meet, sparks fly. For the first time in Michael’s life, he feels he can overcome the darkness inside him. Gabriel gives him hope and slowly brings him out of the shadows, showing him that even the darkest souls can be redeemed. But there are secrets that Michael keeps locked away. Michael’s fear is that Gabriel will turn away when he discovers the truth. After all, who could ever love a beast?
 
 
Excerpt from Michael’s Awakening by Jaclyn Osborn
 
Gabriel's lips were like that metaphorical cliff that appeared in our minds when we were faced with a decision that would ultimately alter our lives, a decision that would forever change who we are. I suspected from the beginning that he possessed a power that would tie me to him forever if I were to get too close.
 
His beauty and grace had first caught my eye, but now his inner fire had scorched my soul. If I were to claim Gabriel's lips with mine, I would never be the same again.
 
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About the Author
 
Jaclyn Osborn was born and raised in the state of Arkansas. When not working her day job, she spends her days writing, reading, and having epic Lord of the Rings movie marathons. All types of genres interest her in the MM world and she hopes to delve into a few of them in her writing career.
 
 
 
Giveaway Details
There is a tour wide giveaway. Prizes include the following:
Michael's Awakening Swag Pack (US)
2 x Michael's Awakening ebooks via Amazon (Int) 
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Cover Reveal for Twenty One by Clarissa Wild with Giveaway

 
 
Title: Twenty-One (21)
Author: Clarissa Wild
Publication Date: October 7th, 2015
Genre: Dark Romance (18+)
 
 
Synopsis
 
21 years
On her 21st birthday she’s taken. Collected by a rich family as an unpaid debt. Her body sold. Her mind his.
 
21 weeks
For 21 weeks she carried a burden no girl should ever have to carry. Now she loses her freedom to a man born to destroy her.
 
21 days
His name: Angel DeLuca. His mission: to break her in 21 days before she sees through his lies. But she won’t give up without a fight.
 
21 minutes
It takes only 21 minutes for their lives to be forever entwined.
 
21 seconds
21 seconds to spill. Time is running out.
 
Secrets ruin them … but not all truths are worth the price.
 
This is a STANDALONE Dark Romance novel. WARNING: contains explicit situations, dubious consent, graphic violence, drug abuse, and other disturbing content.
 
 
Exclusive preorder on: iBooks
 
 
 
Excerpt
 
(Copyright 2015 Clarissa Wild. Unedited. Subject to change.)
 
Day 1
 
Sky
 
A never-ending darkness shrouds me, the surrounding void like space, swallowing me whole. Eyes open or eyes shut, it doesn’t make a difference to the vast emptiness around me. It seeps into my bones like poison, clouding my mind from the memories that I had.
 
Where am I?
 
My body feels cold, and my limbs solid, like they’re not mine. I notice myself breathing, however. The only thing I hear is the steady, rhythmic beating of my heart. The only sound in this dark hole. Thud, thud … thud.
 
For a moment I doubt my own existence.
 
Who am I, even?
 
A drop of water falling onto a surface pulls me back into reality. I’m here, but how?
 
My fingers tighten and relax in an attempt to regain control. My muscles feel stiff, but slowly the sensation is returning to the tips of my fingers, giving me a small bit of hope that I might find out what happened to me.
 
With slow movements, I let my hand slide only a few inches, but it’s enough to determine that I’m lying on a concrete floor. My head begins to hurt and every passing second the pain increases. I move my fingers to my head and touch the back of my scalp. The searing pain stops me and tells me I’m wounded.
 
When I touch my face I gasp. There is a bag over my head with a hole near my mouth and nose through which I can breathe. For a second, I contemplate removing it, but then I realize they might be watching me.
 
A buzz moves through my body, bringing life back to my limbs. And even though I’m regaining my sense of touch, my vision is still impaired. However, my eyes feel fine as I touch them, so it must be the lack of light.
 
I push my elbows underneath me and lean up. A sudden queasiness overtakes me, causing me to buckle and heave. I puke on the floor beside me, which surprises me, because I hardly ever puke.
 
I tally up the sensations that I’m feeling. Nausea, loss of motor skills, buzzing nerves, botched memory … it all leads to one conclusion: I was drugged.
 
Stabilizing myself on the floor, I focus on regaining control over my body before moving again. This place is unfamiliar to me, and I dig into my mind to find clues as to how I ended up here. The pain that’s slowly creeping to the surface of my skin distracts me, but I still manage to catch a glimpse of a memory in the back of my mind.
 
Men with black masks and fire weapons dragging me out of a room. A cloth with a sharp odor pushed against my mouth. Drowsiness engulfing me. A big SUV, also black, doors sliding to the side. A blow to the back of my head. All lights went out.
 
My skin pricks with anxiety, and I shiver to shake off the fear. It doesn’t help, because I know deep down that there is more to come.
 
There is one question in my mind that can’t help but repeat itself. Why me?
 
This is the single question every victim of abduction asks.
 
Except, I already know the answer.
 
It was only a matter of time before they came for me.
 
My papa once told me that goodness always comes at a price. Now more than ever, do I realize the truth in his words. However, I don’t regret making the decision for even a second.
 
Now, I’m here in a darkness so deep it consumes me whole.
 
And still the light of rebellion sparks inside my heart, fueling a fire I haven’t felt before. An uncontrollable need to defy whoever is keeping me here.
 
But I will wait. Lying in the cold, harsh, emptiness of this space, I will await my captor’s arrival and take whatever he’s going to give me. Punishment. Pain. I’ll endure it all.
 
Because that’s what a good person does when they’ve made their choice.
 
They bear the burden of their choice, because it’s the only thing they can do.
 
***
 
I don’t know how many hours pass before a noise wakes me. I can’t remember when and how I fell asleep, but I must’ve been very tired from the ordeal. A metallic door is slid open, a crack of light splitting through the opening. The burlap bag over my head makes it difficult to see, but when I narrow my eyes and focus I can still determine where I am.
 
Only now do I see how small my cell really is.
 
The vast emptiness I thought would overwhelm me, turns out to be not much more than a bedroom-sized cell. A quick look at the walls reveals iron rings of all shapes and sizes, used to hook a chain around and snare whoever needs to be contained and subdued.
 
In other words; me.
 
Squinting, I watch as a man steps inside, and I focus solely on his presence. Even though the door is open, and freedom is luring me on the other side, I stay put and watch. No matter how much I’d try, I’d never be able to flee. Not like this, with my muscles weak and my body aching. There are probably a bunch of guards waiting outside, wondering whether I’m going to try anything.
 
So I won’t. I’ll sit right here on this cold, hard concrete, observing my captor as he walks into the room with a certain aloofness. His feet are bold, his body brawny, his face hiding behind a Guy Fawkes mask. If I weren’t so scared, I would’ve pondered why he chose that specific mask to conceal his identity, but now is not that time.
 
His footsteps sound more like sand scraping off a harsh surface as he circles around me like a snake ready to attack its prey. The door is left open like a silent seducer, a tool to entice me to run. I look up at my captor, giving him a deadly stare, and even though I can’t see him, I know he can feel the determination in me.
 
I won’t let myself be tempted to flee like a wounded deer.
 
Not when I know that this is merely a distraction, like a lollypop being dangled in front of a child while the adult knows full well he’s never going to give it to the child, and the child knows he can never reach far enough to grasp it.
 
I refuse to be that child.
 
My captor walks some more, and then returns to the door to close it.
 
His experiment failed.
 
I control my emotions.
 
He doesn’t know who he’s up against.
 
In the darkness I hear him come closer, the only sound being his steady breath and soft steps. He’s still testing me. Seeing if I’ll give in to the fear. Alone with him, the predator, in a cage filled with blackness. But I’m not afraid of the dark.
 
My soul has already been tainted and defiled. Nothing he does can hurt me. I already went past the breaking point once … and I survived.
 
“Up.”
 
The sound of his voice suddenly breaking through the façade makes me take in a breath. It’s familiar and yet so unknown, the way he speaks to me with full authority, resoluteness resounding in every spoken letter, even if there are few.
 
I crawl up from the ground, slowly, steadily, maintaining my posture. My aching back and pounding head won’t stop me from attempting to keep my dignity as I stand up straight and stare ahead.
 
My captor’s steps are everywhere, resounding in the darkness like echoes that disappear into the night. He’s confusing me, and I try not to concentrate on the sound, but on my own heartbeat instead.
 
Suddenly, he’s right in front of me, and the air is sucked out of my lungs. I struggle not to let my breath come out in short gasps, but I won’t let his tactics work on me.
 
His breathing sounds like that of a bull, short and loud, as if he’s readying for charge.
 
But he doesn’t move. He just stands there, gazing at me.
 
“Do you know where you are?” he asks with a low, gruff voice that brings goose bumps to my body.
 
I compose myself before I answer. “No.”
 
“Good.”
 
I can hear a faint smile behind that word, but the second my eyebrows move, he puts his hands on my chest and shoves me. I fall down backwards on the hard floor, bruising my groin.
 
After a while, he says. “Do you know why you’re here?”
 
I don’t answer. I refuse to. Why would I? He is only here to intimidate and hurt me. There’s no benefit for me in answering his questions. As a matter of fact, I think he owes me some answers instead.
 
“Why am I here?” I ask.
 
He’s silent for a few seconds, and then a smug laugh is dulled by the mask.
 
“Bold. I like that.”
 
“Who are you?” I ask, putting emphasis on every word as if they’re the last that’ll come from my mouth.
 
He muffles another laugh. “Who am I? I am the man who will break you.”
 
I shake my head, still lying on the floor as if I’m taunting him. Maybe I am. I want him to speak, and for that to happen, I have to be the one asking the questions, not the other way around.
 
“Where am I?”
 
“Where you belong,” he growls, and then he takes a step forward, grabs my arm, and pulls me up from the floor.
 
“Why—”
 
Smack. His hand hits my cheek, silencing me.
 
“You do not talk unless spoken to.”
 
My head is still to the right, as I refuse to look at him. I will not bow to his violence. If he hits me, my body will remain rigid, unmoving. Not an inch of pain will exude from me.
 
“You may be wondering why you’re here, but you’re forgetting the most important question. What have you done to be here?”
 
My lip quivers, so I force it to stop. I can’t show weakness. Not now, not ever.
 
He grabs my chin. “You don’t seem to remember, so let me refresh your memory,” he says. “You stole something. It’s time to give it back. You have twenty-one days to come up with an answer.” He pulls me closer with a pinch. “Lie and I’ll know. Do you understand?”
 
I nod while blankly staring at his mask. If I’m to obey to survive, I’ll do just that, but no one can take away my pride.
 
He let’s go of my chin and pushes me away. “It’s time for you to pay back what you owe.”
 
Fear ripples through my veins. “Pay what back?” I say, taking a step forward.
 
He shoves me so hard my back hits the wall and the air is ripped from my chest. I sink to my knees against it.
 
“Don’t think I will go easy on you. Just because I know about you, doesn’t mean I won’t rip you apart if you don’t tell me the truth.”
 
“What truth?” I gasp. “What do you know about me?”
 
He turns around, but waits, standing still in the darkness with only the sound of ragged breaths filling the room.
 
“You tell me,” he says, his voice softer than before, almost as if he himself doesn’t know the reason.
 
Frowning, I look up at him, and for some reason the way he cracks his knuckles feels so familiar.
 
But then the feeling immediately disappears as he starts walking toward the door.
 
“Wait, you haven’t told me why I’m here yet. How am I supposed to know what to tell you?”
 
I can hear him knock on the door. Then there’s a pause. “Oh … you’ll now soon enough.”
 
The forewarning brings chills to my skin.
 
The door opens with a squeak and in comes the blinding light again. It’s so bright, my captor’s clothes almost look pale as snow. But then I realize that’s only because I haven’t seen light in such a long time … and I won’t be seeing it any time soon.
 
The last words he speaks remain with me for the rest of the day, echoing in my mind over and over again. “Welcome to your own personal hell.”
 
 
Author
 
Clarissa Wild is a New York Times & USA Today Bestselling author, best known for the dark Romance novel Mr. X. Her novels include the Fierce Series, the Delirious Series, and Stalker. She is also a writer of erotic romance such as the Blissful Series, The Billionaire's Bet series, and the Enflamed Series. She is an avid reader and writer of sexy stories about hot men and feisty women. Her other loves include her furry cat friend and learning about different cultures. In her free time she enjoys watching all sorts of movies, reading tons of books and cooking her favorite meals.
 
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Giveaway

Book Blitz: The Viper and the Urchin by Celine Jeanjean with Giveaway


The Viper and the Urchin
Release Date: July 27th 2015
 
Summary from Goodreads
 
Being Damsport's most elegant assassin is hard work. There's tailoring to consider, devilish poisons to concoct, secret identities to maintain... But most importantly, Longinus has to keep his fear of blood hidden or his reputation will be ruined. So, when a scrawny urchin girl threatens to expose his phobia unless he teaches her swordsmanship, he has no choice but to comply.
 
It doesn't take long for Rory to realise that her new trainer has more eccentricities than she has fleas. But she'll put up with anything, no matter how frustrating, to become a swordswoman like her childhood hero.
 
What she's not prepared for is a copycat assassin who seeks to replace Longinus, and who hires Rory's old partner in crime to do away with her, as well. Rory and Longinus must set their differences aside and try to work together if they're to stop the copycat. But darker forces than they realise are at play, and with time running out, the unlikely duo find themselves the last line of defence against a powerful enemy who seeks to bring Damsport to its knees.
 
 
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Excerpt
 
Longinus sat at a corner table in the Hand and Tankard, surveying the room. He had swapped the black silks he wore as the Viper for simple leathers, the better to blend in with the crowd. He found it best to tone down his natural elegance when mixing with common folk. That said, he was unable to compromise on the cut of his clothes, and he had had his leathers tailored to within an inch of their lives. A shame that he was sitting down, really; they showed off his figure so exquisitely he should have stood at the bar, the better to be admired.
 
He listened to the talk around him, waiting for the gossip on the Viper’s exploits. He had spent the last few days locked away writing pamphlets about his most recent kill, and he had left them at the docks first thing that morning for a lucky few to find and read. He liked to think that his prose did more than inform the wider public of the Viper’s actions — it elevated their minds, too.
 
Which was why he was growing rapidly annoyed with the direction the conversations were taking: the weather, the upcoming Revels, and speculation as to whether the Old Girl, the Marchioness of Damsport, was going to pass the torch to her daughter. All of it without interest. It was incredible what mundane banalities the small-minded could find interesting.
 
Unfortunately, he had to rely on them to spread his reputation about town. His notoriety was improving, but it was nowhere near what it ought to be. The guards always tried to hush his activities, so he had to help things along by distributing his pamphlets. Notoriety helped him get commissions, but most importantly, one could only be an artist if one was spoken of. There was nothing worse for an assassin than obscurity.
 
At last, a woman he knew by sight on account of her starched white apron arrived. Mistress White Apron sat down and regarded the others around her table with the kind of smugness particular to a woman about to unveil a fresh piece of gossip.
 
“Have you heard the latest on the Smallport killing?”
 
At last! Longinus smiled. Mistress White Apron could always be counted on. Maybe he should find out where she lived and distribute his pamphlets directly to her door.
 
“Yeah, I hear it were that Viper character again,” said a sailor.
 
“Everyone knows that,” said the woman with contempt. “He leaves a card behind. But have you heard the particulars? Hmm?” She looked at the faces of her audience, so puffed up with self-satisfaction she almost seemed to be expanding. Longinus beamed. The saintly woman was about to unveil his new poison.
 
Mistress White Apron leaned forward. “I have it on good authority that he skinned his victim. Slipped the skin right off, like you do with a rabbit.”
 
Longinus almost fell off his stool. Skinned? Skinned? Had that idiot even read his pamphlet?
 
What is the point of me writing them if these simpletons blithely ignore them?
 
“Oh really? I heard it were poison,” said another woman.
 
“Not this time,” said Mistress White Apron. “I heard it from my cousin’s sister-in-law’s nephew. He works with the guards.” She lowered her voice. “I hear the Viper even drinks the blood of his victims, like a vampire.”
 
Longinus felt himself go green at the thought.
 
Ridiculous, this is ridiculous…
 
But there was nothing ridiculous about the image that was now firmly imprinted in his mind.
 
“You’re making it up,” said the sailor, obviously disgusted.
 
“I am not,” sniffed Mistress White Apron. “Just because you can’t handle —”
 
“If I might interrupt,” said a small pinched man at a table next to them. “I saw the body myself and…”
 
Longinus couldn’t listen to any more. The butchery of his art was almost as unbearable as the thought of the Viper drinking blood. He fumbled into his purse and produced two coins, which he threw on the counter before hurrying out.
 
The propensity of the common man’s mind to turn to the violent and bloody really was intolerable.
 
About the Author
 
Celine Jeanjean is French, grew up in the UK and now lives in Hong Kong. That makes her a tad confused about where she is from. During her time in Asia she’s watched the sun rise over Angkor Wat, lost her shoes in Vietnam, and fallen off a bamboo raft in China. Celine writes stories that feature quirky characters and misfits, and her books are a mixture of steampunk, fantasy and humour.
 
Author Links
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