Thursday, January 24, 2019

Release Week Blitz: STOLEN by Marlena Frank with Giveaway


I am so excited that STOLEN by Marlena Frank is available now and that I get to share the news!

If you haven’t yet heard about this wonderful book by Author Marlena Frank, be sure to check out all the details below.

This blitz also includes a giveaway for a $10 Amazon Gift Card, International, courtesy of The Parliament House and Rockstar Book Tours. So if you’d like a chance to win, enter in the Rafflecopter at the bottom of this post.

Title: STOLEN (Stolen #1)
Author: Marlena Frank
Pub. Date: January 22, 2019
Publisher: The Parliament House
Formats: Paperback, eBook
Pages: 342
Find it: Goodreads, Amazon, B&N, iBooks, Kobo

It’s difficult taking care of a delusional father by yourself. Sixteen-year-old Shaleigh Mallet would rather explore and photograph dilapidated buildings than cater to her father’s dark episodes. But when she’s kidnapped by a creature who carries her atop a flying bicycle into another world, she realizes this wasn’t the escape she wanted.
In a kingdom known as the Garden, where minotaurs pull carriages and parties are held in hot air balloons, Madam Cloom and her faerie servant, Teagan, rule over the land with incredible but terrifying magic. Shaleigh must prove that she is the reincarnation of a long-dead ruler, not because she believes it, but because it’s her only chance to survive. With the help of a trespassing faerie, a stoatling, and a living statue, Shaleigh hopes to outwit everyone. She aims to break the bonds of servitude and finally make her way home. What she doesn’t realize, however, is that she’s playing right into the hands of a far worse enemy...
Book Trailer:


Excerpt:
PART I
FREEFALL
 
AN EMBARRASSMENT

Shaleigh didn’t think about how much concrete and steel stood over her head as she stepped carefully down the decaying hallway of Ferris Factory. The building had been abandoned for so long that the mildew and fungus ran rampant from the moisture that crept down the crumbling walls, so a respirator was a requirement. Ferris Factory was only two stories tall from the outside, but the floors underground felt endless. The elevator shaft only went down three floors when it had been operational; the rest of the floors could only be reached with the stairs. She doubted any of it had been inspected by the fire marshal.

Her best friend, Kaeja, walked so close behind that she could feel her warm breath on the back of her neck. The only sound that echoed up and down the hallway, besides their footsteps, was the snap of Shaleigh’s camera. The photos were why they risked their lives to explore dangerous places: to document the decrepit. It was thrilling to explore a place that nobody else would see. Eventually all the walls would fall, and Ferris Factory would decay into memory. Shaleigh and Kaeja would have the only remaining proof it even existed, especially since it was clear that nobody was supposed to know about this section of the factory.

A rat skittered out of a heap of moldy paperwork and Kaeja took a deep breath until it passed. “This is the worst one yet. By far.” Shaleigh grinned, though her respirator concealed it. “Come on, we had to come back and take the stairs down. We couldn’t just end it at the base of the elevator.”

“Do you see that?” She swung the flashlight to the side. “I couldn’t even hang a picture on that wall. Four floors down was enough, five floors is just begging to get hurt.”

Kaeja was right, the walls of the hallway curved inward like a bow string. Shaleigh hadn’t noticed how bad it was until she mentioned it. “We’ll be quick.”

She snapped as many photos as she could while Kaeja held the flashlight. It illuminated a good portion of the hall, but the beam had little effect against the thick, sick air. The light ought to have made the place more inviting, but it only made the shadows darker. It was hard for Shaleigh to keep her hands steady for the photos; fear and exhilaration kept combating within her. Sure, this place was terrifying and could collapse at any moment, but the thought of capturing a world that would never been seen again, of documenting the forgotten before it disappeared, made her tap the shutter button of her camera faster. "I wish we had more time. I'd love to look inside some of these rooms."

"Not me," Kaeja said, her eyes shadowed by the reflections of the flashlight on her mask. "These halls are creepy enough, thanks." The light flashed across some metal scraps against the bowed wooden wall. It was hard to tell if it had been left behind by the workers, or if it had fallen from the ceiling. "Didn't they used to make cars here?"

"Sure, that's it." Shaleigh snorted as she tapped on a dirt-encrusted sign that warned visitors that the hallway was a high security corridor. "Whatever helps you sleep at night."

"It's an old building, but that doesn't mean they were hiding anything down here."

"Then what's with the high security? They had to be doing something illegal down here. The maps we found don't even show these floors. I heard it used to be a hospital,”
Shaleigh glanced back to her with a smile. “Dad heard it from a colleague at work. They used to keep dangerous people here.” Kaeja stared at her, the beam from the flashlight in her hands trembling.

A high-pitched squeal of metal echoed down through the insides of the building, as though the entire structure was shifting under its own weight. The squeal turned into a groan that shook the very floor beneath their feet. Both teens froze, barely daring to breathe as debris fell from the ceiling. Seven levels of exhausted steel, wood, and plaster shifted over their heads. They stood in silence waiting for the walls to give way, waiting to be buried beneath the rusty metal beams, discolored linoleum floors, and rat-infested insulation; but the building remained steady.

The noise stopped. Particles drifted in the air.

"It doesn't sound very good, does it?" Shaleigh whispered.

"I don't like it. I don't care what you say, this is the lowest I'm going. Five levels below ground is far enough."

Shaleigh stifled a laugh, "That's what you said when we found the stairs."

A high-pitched noise erupted down the hall causing both teens to jump. It didn't sound metallic...it didn't sound like the building at all.

Kaeja stared down the hallway with wide eyes. The noise broke into a whimper, and then there was silence. It only lasted maybe a few seconds, but they both knew what they had heard. Someone was down there with them.

Shaleigh turned to look behind them, but without the flashlight beam it was too dark to see anything. "Was that—was that behind us?”

Kaeja spun around, temporarily blinding Shaleigh in the process. "I don't know. I thought it came from in front of us."

The darkness felt like a cage all around them. The beam of the flashlight, darting forwards and backwards down the hall, seemed so small and insignificant now. Someone was in the darkness. Someone was watching them. Shaleigh stepped around Kaeja and started back toward the stairwell. "We should go."

Kaeja grabbed her arm and Shaleigh could feel her clammy fingers through the sleeve of her jacket. "Are you crazy? You said that's where it came from."

"How else are we going to get out of here?"

Kaeja could give no argument and shook her head. "Shaleigh..." she whimpered.

"It's okay, we'll do it together." She put her camera around her neck and took Kaeja's hand. They walked slowly towards the door of the stairwell, side by side, fingers clasped in a death grip.

For a moment, Shaleigh thought she saw movement ahead of them and stopped. Kaeja must have seen it too because she swept her flashlight left and right, searching for whatever it was. Just before the beam of light reached one of the doors, Shaleigh was certain she spotted a shadow move into one of the rooms.

"Ow..." Kaeja whispered giving their joined hands a tug. Shaleigh realized she had been gripping too hard and loosened her hold but didn't say a word. Her eyes were fixed on where the shadow had been. As they drew closer, an arm stretched out, hairy with long, black fingernails, and pulled the door closed. There was a splash as though something heavy had fallen into a pool of water from behind the door.

Kaeja screamed. A bolt of adrenaline hit Shaleigh and she grabbed Kaeja's arm. Together they ran. As they passed the door, the knob began to turn with a creak. She wasn't sure if Kaeja had seen it or not. "Keep going!" she yelled, all pretense of caution forgotten.

Once the stairwell came into view, they sped up. Shaleigh slipped on a wet spot and her foot skidded. She would have sprained her ankle if she hadn’t grabbed for the wall. What a stupid way to die, she thought as she regained her footing. She had to keep her head straight, because panicking in an old, decrepit building was a sure way to get hurt or killed by whatever was after them. She forced them to slow down to climb over a pile of broken boards and nails. Shaleigh had thought it odd to have it so close to the stairwell when they’d first come down, but now she saw it as a marker, a warning perhaps, to keep trespassers out. As she helped Kaeja down the opposite side of the rubble, she heard limping footsteps approaching them.

"It's coming!" Shaleigh cried and together they sprinted for the stairwell. The flashlight bounced beams off the walls.

They hit the metal door like a battering ram, shoving it into the rusted railings of the stairs, causing it to reverberate like a gong up and down the concrete shaft. Shaleigh gripped the metal rail, feeling the flecks of paint come off on her hands, and the raw rust beneath. She exchanged a glance with Kaeja, both trying to catch their breath. The respirator was humid with her breathing and she couldn’t wait to rip it off when they got outside. She looked up the dark stairwell above them and grimaced. There were too many floors between them and safety.

Kaeja gasped and reached out to grab Shaleigh’s arm. Shaleigh stared at her. She thought she could make out footsteps from the hall they just left, but it was so faint it was hard to make out. It could have just been the sounds of the building, but she didn’t want to take any chances. Taking a deep breath, Shaleigh led the way as they started up the stairs.

One floor, two floors, three floors.

Was that the sound of the doorknob beneath them being turned? Kaeja hurried to her side as they continued to climb. Both were audibly gasping now. It wouldn’t take much for their pursuer to know where they went. Shaleigh’s thighs were burning. She could sprint up a flight or two of stairs, but this was tough. It didn’t help that she was already out of breath before they even started climbing.

"What if it's locked us in?" Kaeja asked between sucking in gulps of air.

Shaleigh didn't respond. She didn't want to even consider that option.

They climbed two more flights of stairs. Kaeja reached the door first. They both let out a sigh of relief when the door opened. Panting, they jogged to the main exit, a pair of massive iron doors that looked like they belonged in a mausoleum. Neither of them said a word as they descended the short flight of broken steps to the grass. Shaleigh ripped off her respirator, Kaeja did the same, and they both exchanged grins as they crossed the grass-pocked concrete walkway. It felt good to feel the heat of the day on her skin too. The sun was sinking in the west, but the air was sweet with wild honeysuckle and a light breeze rustled the old oaks. Shaleigh relaxed a bit but could tell by Kaeja's expression that she wouldn’t be able to relax until they had left the property completely.

The concrete walkway fell away to tall grass that came up to their hips, as they sidestepped small pine trees that were beginning to take over the lot and moved further away from the building. The chain link fence that surrounded the property sported multiple warning signs for trespassers, though they were faded from exposure. Kaeja pulled back the corner of fencing they had used to get in, and they both climbed through without saying a word. Kaeja paused, took a deep breath, and relaxed her shoulders.

"I know you'll hate to hear this, Kaeja," Shaleigh started. "But I think I'm done with Ferris Factory for a while."

Kaeja laughed. "No complaints here. I’m going to add that we never go underground again either. I am not running up that many stairs again, no matter how great you say the pictures will be." Shaleigh couldn’t help but laugh. The downtrodden path through the woods made it a short walk to reach the bus stop. Shaleigh unwrapped the scarf from around her head and shook out her twists. The breeze felt wonderful on her scalp. They dropped everything into Shaleigh's backpack as they walked. The main road was surprisingly empty for a Sunday afternoon. After exploring inside of decomposing buildings for a while, she had new respect for even the simplest things. The bench for the bus stop, covered in graffiti and bearing a single broken board, looked like a luxury.
Kaeja sprawled across the broken wooden bench and covered her eyes with her arms.

"Wow, what a rush!"

"I know!" Despite her smile, Shaleigh still glanced over her shoulder, as though expecting the person from the building to be slinking toward them through the woods.
"What do you think it was?"

Kaeja stared up into the sky. "Someone crazy, I'm sure. It's a good thing they made some noise. I don't like the thought of them sneaking up on us like that." She sat up and patted the bench beside her.

Shaleigh obliged, her legs were still shaky. "Did you see that hand?"

Kaeja shuddered, "Looked like he hadn't seen the light of day in forever." She stretched her arms over the back of the bench. "This is exactly why I don't like the big ones. There are too many hiding places."

"The small ones aren't much better," Shaleigh added. "Sometimes it feels like a shot right out of Texas Chainsaw Massacre, you know?"

Kaeja nodded and the two grew silent from their own nerves. Kaeja’s leg jumped up and down, as though at any moment she would jump up into a sprint. Shaleigh kept resisting the urge to look over her shoulder once more. The bus couldn't come fast enough.

"Ugh, I need to think about something else." Kaeja said with a tense smile. "You've got a party coming up tonight, don't you? You get to get all dolled up. I know you don't like the people much, but I do envy you getting to go."

Shaleigh sighed. "I had almost forgotten about it.” She checked her watch. It was a good thing they had left when they did because she still needed to get home and clean up. “If you like it so much, you can totally go for me."

"Your dad would never let me. He needs you there."

"Unfortunately."

Kaeja scooted closer and put an arm around her shoulders. "I'm sorry. I guess that is pretty hard on you. Do they ask you a lot of questions about him?”

Shaleigh nodded. She hated the tight feeling she got in her chest whenever she thought of those stupid parties. She hated the fact that she had to go. Why in the world did Roseworth College have so many of them anyway? It was like they wanted to torture her.

Deciding to change the subject, she picked up her camera from around her neck. After checking to make sure nothing had been damaged in their mad dash, she asked, "Want to see the pictures?"

Kaeja nodded but looked concerned. Shaleigh ignored it.

The brilliant light of the flash somehow made the dark halls of Ferris Factory less frightening, less dangerous. If only people were so easy to strip of fear.



About Marlena:

I write about strange creatures. Typically they shouldn’t exist, or they have bled through from a different reality, or they’re pretending to be a crying baby in a crib. Sometimes that lands my stories in horror and other times in fantasy, but there’s always an air of strangeness to my tales. If you want to get a better feel for what I’m talking about, check out a few clips or read a few drabbles.

My work has appeared in a spattering of short story collections, but I do have a few novellas and novels in the pipeline. Other than talking about writing, I also talk about cryptozoology, werewolves, wildlife conservation, and of course kitties. I’ve also been known to nerd out about Batman and The Hobbit, and have recently discovered the cracktastic fun of Black Butler cosplay, so there will likely be more of these incidents.

By day I work as a web developer, so I’ll occasionally talk about web issues like finding the right theme.

Giveaway Details:

1 winner will win a $10 Amazon Gift Card, INTERNATIONAL.





Book Blitz: GIVE ME FEVER by Jasmine & Arielle Lockhart with Giveaway


I am so excited that GIVE ME FEVER by Jasmine & Arielle Lockhart is available now and that I get to share the news!

If you haven’t yet heard about this wonderful book by Authors Jasmine & Arielle Lockhart, be sure to check out all the details below.

This blitz also includes a giveaway for a $500 Amazon GC prize and an ARC of GIVE ME FEVER, courtesy of Jasmine & Arielle. So if you’d like a chance to win, enter in the Rafflecopter at the bottom of this post.


Title: GIVE ME FEVER 
Author: Jasmine & Arielle Lockhart
Pub. Date: January 15, 2019
Publisher: Somewhere On A Beach Publishing
Formats: Paperback, eBook
Pages: 278
Find it: Goodreads, Amazon, B&N

Hotter than a fever…

Jackson Noveau left behind his Cajun roots to make a better life for him and his new bride in New York City. But his drive for success drove the love of his life away. Six years later, Jackson has the opportunity to take his hot sauce company global. All he has to do is buy back the family farm. Unfortunately, the new owner isn’t impressed by his handsome offer.

From first love to fiery business rival…

Jessa fled home to the little bayou town of Fever, Louisiana six years ago, expecting Jackson to chase after her. He never did. Now he’s back and she has something he wants—the farm she secretly bought. She has no intentions of letting go of the home she loves, or the one-of-a-kind peppers necessary for the production of Jackson’s hot sauce. At least not until she learns Jackson holds the key to something she wants—the divorce she believed they finalized years ago.

What’s yours is mine…

The two strike a deal where winner takes all. If Jessa can go a week without succumbing to the spark clearly still between them, Jackson will sign the divorce papers. If not, Jackson gets the farm. As the ex-flames spend the week together, things smolder hotter than a fever, but with only one winner, someone is sure to get burnt.

Excerpt:
The primal part of him argued that things weren’t complicated. That Jessa was still his. And that realization struck deep. “If you want my touch so badly, I’d be happy to grant your wish. I’m thinking a nice start would be my tongue between your—”

Her reflexes were no joke. Before he could finish his sentence, Jackson found himself covered in wine. Again.

He grabbed his napkin and did his best to blot up the red liquid coursing down his face. “If you actually finished a glass of that stuff without throwing it on me, you might enjoy my company a little more.”

“Even piss-ass drunk, I wouldn’t let you do what you were about to suggest.” She sounded truly appalled by his comment. Like he hadn’t done that on this very table once upon a time. “Don’t act like you don’t still want me, Jessalynn.”

“Ha! You are so full of yourself. No, I don’t still want you, Jackson. As you can see, I want nothing more than you to be out of my house and out of my life.”

His jaw twitched. “Feelings aren’t a light switch, Jessalynn. You can’t just turn them off. Did you forget how you used to respond to my touch? To me? How I could light you on fire? Should I remind you?”

“The only feeling I have for you now is disgust.”

“Did you also forget how well I know you? I can tell when you’re lying.”

She put her hands on her hips and stuck her chest out. “I’m not lying, Jackson.”

“Prove it.”

“I don’t have to prove anything to you. There’s nothing in it for me.”

An idea hit him. “What if there was?”

Jessa looked at him sideways. “What?”

“Since you’re so sure that you don’t have feelings for me anymore, then prove it. If you can resist me for a week, I will sign the divorce papers, leave you the farm, and be out of your life.” A week was pushing his deadline, but he’d make it work.

“You think I can’t go a week without tearing off my clothes and throwing myself at you?” She laughed so hard she began holding her stomach and wiping her eyes.

“If you think it’s that easy, you’ve got nothing to lose.”

Her face sobered. “I’m not crazy enough to sign on for spending a week with you.”

“I’m not going anywhere, chéri. This way, no matter what, I’ll be gone in a week. Otherwise, I’ll leave when I’m good and ready.”

Jessalynn grumbled and her eyes narrowed. “So, if I can make it a week without sleeping with you, you’ll sign the papers and give up on this nonsense about buying the farm?”

He nodded, trying not to smile too wide.

“There must be rules.” She twirled the stem of her empty wine glass between her fingers. “No getting me drunk. I have to be sober for it to count.”

“That’s fair. I don’t need you impaired to get you turned on.”

She rolled her eyes. “And you can’t go around shirtless. Fully clothed, all week.”

“No dice. I’ll keep my pants on, since you don’t trust yourself not to jump my bones if I don’t, but it’s damn near 100 degrees in the daytime around here. You’re not going to force me to wear a shirt the whole time.”

“Fine.”

“I have some conditions of my own.”

“Like what?”

“You agree to let me stay here. All week. I don’t expect

you to let me sleep in your bed, but for me to have a fighting chance, proximity is a must.”

“No.”

He threw his head back and wiped his hand down his face. “Come on, Jessalynn. Bend a little.”

With any luck at all, he’d have her bending all kinds of ways before week’s end.

“Whatever. You stay out of my bedroom, though.”

“Alright, but you have to promise not to avoid me during the daytime.”

“I have work to do, Jackson. This farm doesn’t run itself.”

“I think I know a thing or two about farm work. I’ll pitch in.”

Jessalynn grabbed the wine and drank from the bottle. Then she took a long breath. “Anything else?”

“No getting off without me.”

“Excuse me?”

“I don’t want you taking the edge off. You’re going to be

begging me to put my mouth and hands on you in no time. Can’t let you cheat by getting off on your own.”

She pushed her chair back and stood. “It’s only a week. I’m not a guy. I’ll survive. Especially if it means getting rid of you once and for all.”

After making her way around the table, she stuck her hand out. “We have a deal.”

He stared at her hand for a beat, then glanced up at her. “Don’t you want to know what happens if you lose?”

“I’m not going to lose.”


About Jasmine and Arielle:
Jasmine and Arielle Lockhart were born and raised in New Orleans, Louisiana, in a house overflowing with books, art, and poetry scrawled on scraps of paper by the hands of their father and mother. The sisters spent their childhood summers setting crawdad traps and picking peaches from the three-hundred-year-old tree on their family's plantation. On stormy nights when the power would go out in the Antebellum home, Arielle would distract her younger sister by telling her stories. It never took long before Jasmine's fear of the dark was forgotten and she was butting in with her own ideas of how the story should go.
In 2017, over mint julep's on the plantation's ivy-laden porch, Jasmine and Arielle came up with the crazy idea to co-write a romance novel. A year and many heated debates later, the first book in the Fever series was complete.

 When she's not nagging her sister to add more kissing scenes to their books, Jasmine is a world-traveler, living between New Orleans and Abu Dhabi in the Middle East.

Arielle currently resides on the plantation, where she spends her days writing and convincing Grammy Dee that Annabelle, the housekeeper she hired three years ago, is not the reincarnation of the young woman who hung herself in the peach tree after her fiancé failed to return from war. 

Sign up for their mailing list for news!

 
Giveaway Details:
 
$500 Amazon GC prize and ARC of “Give Me Fever”
 

Book Blitz: By Any Means by James Morris with Giveaway

By Any Means
James Morris
Publication date: January 2nd 2019
Genres: Adult, Thriller

How Far Would You Go To Save Your Son?

Lucas Turner is an ordinary teenager with an extraordinary genetic mutation: the cure for cancer rests in his body. When his father discovers that the only way to harvest the cure will result in the death of his son, he kidnaps him from the hospital, setting off a calamity of events from which there is no turning back.

Meanwhile, the doctor, intent on a cure at any cost, hires a female bounty hunter to bring the boy back by any means. She’s never failed before and doesn’t intend to fail now.

While on the run, the estranged father and son build a relationship on the road that brings them closer to the mistakes of the past and the consequences of the future. By Any Means is a literary thriller, and at its core is about a relationship between a father and son against all odds. The remedy, after all, may be less about science and more the human heart.

 
—
EXCERPT:
 
He heard Lucas calling out in the distance and his reedy cry, infused with terror, made the hair on Keith’s arms stand on end. Keith ran down a hospital hallway that seemed to stretch on forever, pulling like warm taffy into a horizon he would never reach.
 
“Daddy!” Lucas screamed, a word he hadn’t used since he was a toddler.
 
“I’m coming!” The walls shrunk, squeezing against him; impossibly, the cold hardness of the wall rubbed against his elbows, the air heavy in his lungs, the sour smell of worms and shit, the incline steeper, impossibly slow. He couldn’t move his legs fast enough.
 
Something followed him. Not a person; a presence. A darkness that swallowed even the dark, making it more than just the absence of light. Something malevolent, something he couldn’t even name. He dared not look back lest he give it form. He knew if he saw it, it would consume him whole.
His son wailed once more.

The hallway door was closer, and he grabbed onto the knob, fearing it would slip from his hands, and turned—

Inside, he looked up, the air leaving his lungs and thought from his mind—a monster. Under the green tint of lights, strapped to a vertical gurney, arms outstretched, standing on display, the monster was his son. Skin desiccated, wrinkled, tubes running along his limbs, pumping him like a human cow, viscous fluid siphoning from him, withering him to nothing, his life force draining into machines. His son’s eyes rolled back, and the top of his head—his head, what’s wrong with his head—a red seam ran along the skull and the rest, where his hair should be, was gone, removed like the top of a teapot. Lucas lifted his hand and reached toward his father, his lips parched, his voice like wet gravel, “Help me…”

Keith woke, his body wet with perspiration, the nightmare fading, his heart slowing to its regular rhythm, how silly, how stupid, I haven’t had a nightmare in ages, and he looked over to check on his son in the bed next to him.

Lucas was having a seizure.

For a moment he was tangled in his blanket, then he rushed to Lucas’s side. Not knowing what else to do, he held him. “I’m here, son, I’m here.” Keith hadn’t witnessed a seizure before, and it scared him, the uncontrollable movements, hands flailing, teeth grinding; the sound of sandpaper against metal, the body contorted, turbulent and twitching.

His son was stronger than Keith imagined; he could barely hang onto him. Lucas’s feet swiveled and inadvertently hit Keith in the shin. He held onto his son, feeling Lucas’s waves of muscle tension, releasing and tightening and repeating. Not since Lucas was a swaddled baby had Keith held him so long and so tight, body to body, embraced.

“I won’t let you go. I won’t let you go.”

The convulsions didn’t stop. They continued for over a minute, an eternity, and kept going. Keith didn’t know what to do. Instead, he whispered, “It’s gonna be all right, Lucas. You’re safe. You’re safe.”


Author Bio:
James Morris is a former television writer who now works in digital media. When not writing, you can find him scoping out the latest sushi spot, watching 'House Hunters Renovation', or trying new recipes in the kitchen. He lives with his wife and dog in Los Angeles.

 
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Book Blitz: Winter’s Heist by Emily Duvall with Giveaway


Winter’s Heist
Emily Duvall
Publication date: December 6th 2018
Genres: Adult, Romance, Suspense

Beautiful. Haunting. Rare. The Fabergé Eggs are on display at the Carter Museum of History and Science. Jason Hood, the museum’s pretentious owner, knows their value is bound to attract attention, but the coordinated attack on the exhibit is not something he saw coming. A field trip to the museum for Amara Massey and her students takes a deadly turn. She finds herself at the center of a police investigation with few leads. Convinced Amara is withholding information, Jason pursues her to get the answers he cannot get on his own. The outcome neither of them expect is their surprising need for each other. What must they sacrifice to get everything they want?

 
—
Q&A WITH AUTHOR
 
Q: What is the first book that made you cry?
A: Not the first book, but a scene from Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire. Harry witnesses Cedric’s death-I think I was just riding on the emotion of the series and then when that scene hit, I just started to cry. The dialogue and actions were beautifully written.
 
Q: What are some traps aspiring writers should avoid?
A: It is important for writers to create the story they want to write. I’ve made the mistake of letting people review manuscripts too early, and then making every little change. Feedback is extremely valuable, but there is a time and a place for incorporating suggestions and building confidence for what must stay and what should go. A writer can lose valuable writing time changing every detail based on each suggestion. Bottom line? Trust your vision.
 
Q: Have you ever gotten reader’s block?
A: Big yes. I was just telling a friend that I’ve been in a reading slump the last few months. I think it’s because I see the story from a writer’s POV now or maybe because there are so many choices for books in every genre, that it can feel overwhelming with what to pick and what to read.
 
Q: As a writer, what would you choose as your avatar or spirit animal?
A: Big Foot. It reminds me of Indie Authors. We’re out there and we’re writing and publishing even if you can’t see us.
 
Q: What’s the best way to market your books?
A: Word-of-mouth is still the most powerful tool, but with social media, I like engaging in readers that I follow on Instagram or Twitter and asking them to beta read. If they like the story, they’ll do these amazing posts with the cover of the book and reach far more readers than I can do on my own.
 
Q: Do you view writing as a spiritual practice.
A: Yes. The heart has so much to say.
 
Q: How do you select the names of your characters?
A: I look up names on baby naming websites. They’re all there with rankings and popularity. Mostly though, I just look to see if a name catches my attention.
 
Q: Do you hide any secrets in your books that only a few people will find?
A: Yes, there’s always the occasional inside joke or word choice that is based on someone I know. Whether they pick up on it, I can’t say
 
Q: What is your favorite childhood book?
A: Nothing’s Fair in the Fifth Grade by Barthe DeClements
 
Q: Do you believe in writer’s block?
A: Absolutely. I was at a writing retreat a few years ago and Sylvia Day was the guest speaker. She said that writer’s block means that something is wrong with your story and that point resonated. Now instead of wasting time trying to move forward if I’m stuck, I go back and re-read the chapters before, and that usually unlocks the problem and the solution.
 
 
Author Bio:
 
Emily loved reading books as a young girl and filled up her journals with characters (both real and not). Romance is her favorite genre to write. She lives in Maryland with her husband and two children. She loves hearing from fans and readers.
 
 
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Cover Reveal: SwanSong by Allie McCormack

SwanSong
Allie McCormack
(Sons of the Desert, #1)
Publication date: March 4th 2019
Genres: Adult, Romance

Sarah Pendleton was born into a life of wealth and privilege, raised in the shadow of her famous soprano mother and her father, an equally famous composer. Shy and retiring, Sarah has left behind the world she grew up in to make her own life in the coastal town of Santa Barbara, California.

A visiting University professor of Arabic literature from the small oil-rich country of Taqara, Khalid Al Mansour is the eldest son of a Taqaran diplomat and an independent American artist. He’s never settled down in one place, but that’s because he’s never found what he wanted… until one evening he sees the lovely bellydancer at a small, smoky cafe downtown.

 
Author Bio:
A career medical transcriptionist, Allie McCormack is now writing from home full-time. Allie has traveled quite a bit and lived many places all over the U.S., and also a year in Cairo, Egypt as an exchange student, and a year in Riyadh, Saudi Arabia under contract to a hospital there, plus a short stint with NATO while she was in the Army. As a single mom, she raised a wonderful daughter who's recently married and there are plans afoot for grandchildren. A disabled veteran, Allie now lives in the beautiful Sorona Desert in southern Arizona with her two rescue cats and writes full-time.

Allie says: "A writer is who and what I am... a romance writer. I write what I know, and what I know is romance. Dozens of story lines and literally hundreds of characters live and breathe within the not-so-narrow confines of my imagination, and it is my joy and privilege to bring them to life, to share them with others by writing their stories."

 
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Friday, January 18, 2019

Book Blitz: Snowed In – Ross and Ashton by J.V. Speyer with Giveaway

Snowed In – Ross and Ashton
J.V. Speyer

Publication date: January 5th 2019
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, LGBTQ+, Romance

Massachusetts State Trooper Ross Huber is giving one last sweep of the roads before heading in for the night. The nor’easter hitting the Boston area is worse than expected by an order of magnitude, and the governor has just issued a travel ban. He finds a wrecked car half buried in a snowbank and rescues its human and canine occupants from carbon monoxide poisoning, but is forced to take shelter with them in a vacant or abandoned house when the roads are blocked.

When he gets the victims indoors, he thinks the human looks uncomfortably familiar…

Ash Machado has been through a lot in his career as a war correspondent. Sidelined by an injury, he’s returned to Boston to take up a job as a news anchor. After he loses control of his car on an icy road, he wakes up in an unfamiliar home, looking into the face of the guy who broke his heart in college.

Neither Ross nor Ash are the same guys they were in college, but they’re trapped in the abandoned house with no place to go. Can they get past old hurts long enough to get through the storm, or will the same misunderstandings that drove them apart years ago make this confinement unbearable?

 
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EXCERPT:
 
Ash moistened his lips and scratched between his dog’s ears. “More or less, yeah. He definitely likes to be on the receiving end of any affection.” He swallowed hard. He could still taste Ross on his tongue, bad morning breath and all.
 
He lurched to his feet. “I’m going to see what I can do about excavating some space for Porthos to do his business. He’s going to have to sooner or later, and I don’t want to wreck the joint.” Ash had to get up and do something. He had to get away from Ross or his brain might explode.
 
“Good point.” Ross grimaced and stood up too. “Can you shovel, with your arm like that? Do you want me to do it?”
 
Ash forced a little smile. Ross’ words cemented his worst fears. Ross hadn’t kissed him out of affection or even nostalgia. He’d kissed Ash out of pity. It turned Ash’s stomach. “No, thanks. I’ll be sore, but I really want to move around a bit.” He ran for the back door as fast as he could.
 
Was this really what life was going to be from now on? Pity kisses from guys who occasionally wanted to throw him a bone, and who didn’t have any better options? A sedate anchor job covering sedate local news from the safety of a swanky downtown newsroom, instead of being out in the field like he’d been born to do?
 
He struggled into his coat and pushed the intrusive thoughts out of his head. The doctors had warned him about this after his injury, both in Turkey and in Germany. Intrusive thoughts were normal. Bouts of depression were normal. He’d survived a major explosion, and he’d had to make some major lifestyle changes as a result. It was okay to be upset, and it was okay to be frustrated. Ash should be patient with himself, they said. And they also acknowledged it would be a challenge for
him to find that patience. He knew exactly what to expect.
 
He attacked the snow with vigor. He’d made it out alive when plenty of others had not. He was not going to squander his second chance on self-pity and pining for a guy who’d dumped him almost a decade ago. He was here, breathing free air. He might be in pain, and he might not have full use of all of his limbs, but he could use most of his parts and that was enough. He was a lucky man. He just needed to remind himself sometimes.
 
He hacked into the snow, using his anger and his grief to power through the pain. Okay, sure, this sucked, and he’d need more surgery on his shoulder eventually. He’d get it. In the meantime, chances were that he’d find himself in a position to need to shovel. He needed to get used to it. He needed to toughen up, and get used to doing things for himself. Two hours later, he’d carved out enough space to function as a doggy outhouse. It would be foul soon enough, but it had become almost like a little snow cave. Ash had worked up a good sweat, and he’d accomplished something to take care of Porthos. He hadn’t had to depend on Ross, or anyone else. He’d done it himself. He could be proud of it.
 
Author Bio:
Want to get cocktail recipes, book updates, and craft beer notes from J. V.? Sign up here (http://eepurl.com/dtlwBH)!

J. V. Speyer has lived in upstate New York and rural Catalonia before making the greater Boston, Massachusetts area her permanent home. She has worked in archaeology, security, accountancy, finance, and non-profit management. She currently lives just south of Boston in a house old enough to remember when her town was a tavern community with a farming problem.

J. V. finds most of her inspiration from music. Her tastes run the gamut from traditional to industrial and back again. When not writing she can usually be found enjoying a baseball game or avoiding direct sunlight. She's learning to crochet so she can make blankets to fortify herself against the cold.

 
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Book Blitz: False Start by Meli Raine with Giveaway

False Start
Meli Raine

(False #3)

Publication date: January 15th 2019
Genres: Adult, Romance, Suspense

This isn’t how my life is supposed to end.

Then again, a case of mistaken identity got me here. No one is ever who we think they are. Especially my kidnapper, a man whose entire life is designed to deceive.

Powerful people want my rescuer to die. I’m just a lure. A pawn. An object.

But objects hold meaning. Emotions attach themselves without logic.

Like love.

I now know that Duff will do everything to protect me.

If he gets here in time. And if I can hold on long enough.

Because my body can only handle so much. Pushed to the limits, it’s finally giving out. Giving way.

Giving up.

I know Duff, though.

He never will.

Blink.

Read the stunning conclusion to USA Today bestselling author Meli Raine’s False series, told from both Lily and Duff’s points of view.
 
 
FALSE MEMORY (Book 1)
Now Available
 
FALSE HOPE (Book 2)
Now Available
 
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EXCERPT:
 
Being locked in a room with a dead body is not on my bucket list.
 
Being locked in a room with a faceless corpse, the dim light making his exposed, bloody skull bones gleam like rubies, is definitely not on my wish list.
 
The scream that wants to come out turns inward, helplessness stopping it somewhere in my chest, com-forted by my heart, which only wants it to go quiet. Screaming won’t fix this. I can’t find an escape by making noise.
 
Reality has a way of dominating.
 
I look down at the dead man.
 
Who is very, very real.
 
I move gently on the chaise, taking the deepest breath I can, holding it for too long. Suspending myself in time and space feels like the only out. I can’t actually leave. Second best is closing off my air supply, shut-ting my eyelids, not moving. Freezing in place gives me an illusion to grasp, the fleeting seconds im-portant.
 
My hand slides under a throw pillow. The cool haven of hidden fabric makes me shiver.
 
A black spider, all too familiar, comes off the pillow my hand is under.
 
That makes me shiver even more.
 
I jump up, shocked by the intrusion of another living being.
 
The door calls out to me.
 
The spider crawls down one leg of the chaise, then makes its way dispassionately along the tip of the dead guy’s shoe.
 
In order to get to the door, I have to go around the dead body. In order to move, I have to feel the sensa-tion of his blood on my skin. When I bend my arm, the dried blood on my shoulders and neck crackles. It puckers, like child’s glue spread over skin and allowed to dry for fun. For amusement.
 
This is anything but amusing.
 
 
Author Bio:
Meli Raine writes romantic suspense with hot bikers, intense undercover DEA agents, bad boys turned good, and Special Ops heroes — and the women who love them. Meli rode her first motorcycle when she was five years old, but she played in the ocean long before that. She lives in New England with her family.

 
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