When city girl Lily shows up in Bluestone County, cocky cowboy Jake reckons it won’t be long until she hightails it back to London. It didn’t matter that his heartrate spiked whenever she was nearby. Or that he couldn’t get her out of his head. Because Jake was the king of casual and Lily was apparently the queen of picking the wrong men.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Excerpt:
Lily stared at the boarded-up windows and took a deep breath. There was no turning back now. Pulling the keys from her handbag, she unlocked the door and followed the creaking sound of the floorboards into the dimly lit store.
To her surprise the shelves were still stocked and brimming with power tools, each item covered in a layer of dust that had already started to make its way up her nostrils.
“What the hell are you doing here Lily?” she muttered to herself as she ran her fingers across the counter.
To get this place up and running, it was going to be more work than she ever imagined. She just hoped the apartment upstairs was in better condition.
After exploring the shop floor, she went to find out. She followed the beige hallway into the living room, taking a seat on the squeaky leather sofa and looking around. The space was depressing. Habitable but depressing nonetheless.
How could he have lived here for so long, and it still feel so empty?
Furniture was sparse, and other than the chair she sat in, the only other items that remained were a flatscreen TV, a scratched wooden coffee table and a small shelving unit scattered with a few books and a couple of picture frames.
She looked over at the kitchen adjoining the living room and noticed some basic appliances. It felt strange to be in his space. His home. Surrounded by his things. Was there a right way to feel?
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Isobel was born and raised in London. She still lives along the River Thames with her husband and her substantial book collection. Ever the hopeless romantic, she fell in love with the genre from a young age and was inspired to write her own stories. When she’s not feasting on romantic comedies or binge reading her hoard of contemporary romance novels, Isobel is writing.
A dragon terrified of being discovered by the government, Ravenna Drake is constantly on the move. When the woman who raised her gets cancer, Ravenna trades her nomadic work restoring black market magical goods for a steady job. But her cautious life ends after her name is found at the scene of a werewolf murder.
Dr. Ian Chen, a sorcerer bonded to a powerful relic, works for the government treating supernatural citizens. He insists on investigating when his patient’s body is discovered completely drained of blood. His search leads him to the beautiful but frustrating Ravenna Drake, who refuses to stay away from the case or follow his instructions.
As more bloodless bodies surface, threats from secret societies and corrupt politicians force the dragon and the sorcerer to work together. If Ravenna and Ian can’t catch the killer, the people they love the most may be the next to die.
Excerpt:
He wanted to pry more of the story out of her but decided against it. As she followed him down the block, they blended into the small crowd on the street. Ian watched the people around them for a second. Normal people, with no idea my world even exists.
She broke the silence, “You know this neighborhood?”
“There was a gang that recruited a witch. He wasn’t that powerful but he knew how to use sacrifices to call a demon. It took me a while to figure it out.” Ian shivered with the memory of living fire, a monster in the shape of flame. He could work with dead bodies but remembering the smell of burned corpses would always be a problem.
“I thought you didn’t like the word witch.”
He glanced at her expression of wide-eyed innocence. It had to be fake. “This guy, he wasn’t doing much. Calling him a sorcerer would be a bit of an insult to the real ones.”
“Not that you know any real ones.” She smiled up at him. Why were they playing this game? She probably wasn’t the murderer, if she was, she knew what he was. Why not just come clean?
Cloak answered the question as if he’d been asked, “Then tell her about the BPA.”
“Right, that was why.” Because once she knew who she was helping, she’d probably stop. The BPA wasn’t popular with all the people they protected, and even the non-paranormal citizens seemed to think his agency was either evil or a scam. He’d say enough to get her help, but leave things vague enough to keep her, and the investigation, safe.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Rachel Graves writes mysteries that blend the supernatural with steamy, sexy scenes. Her work explores the many shades of gray found between the lines of right and wrong. Rachel’s books focus on strong heroines who take charge of their own fate, their friends, and their families. Rachel is a member of Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers of America and uses research skills honed getting a graduate degree in psychology to seek out rare folklore and magical creatures. Her writing incorporates popular monsters like vampires and werewolves as well as diverse creatures like selkies and yuki onna. Rachel has lived in a cursed town, taken far too many ghost tours, and counts down to every Halloween starting in November. You can read short stories and learn more about her on her website: http://www.rachelgraves.com/.
My name is Ella McAllister, I’m a psychic witch and a healer. My life is kinda nuts. Not only do I have the Coletti hunters chasing me, but now I also have a very determined Askole High Commander after me. Why? I shot his ship down and it crash landed, and it blew up. Yep, itty-bitty pieces everywhere. My bad, but his ship was a dead ringer for a Rodan Marauder, and it was my civic duty to blow the enemy spacecraft out of the sky. Wasn’t it? Any hoo, I healed his owies and boogied.
I thought that was the end of it, but oh no. For some unknown reason, Sariel, the Askole High Commander, decided I would make him the perfect mate. As if. I think the blow to his head made him completely bonkers.
Sariel informed me the mating dance had begun and there was nothing I could do to stop it. The idiot had obviously never dealt with a witch before. I didn’t have the time to play games with him, so I did a little abracadabra alakazam and ran.
Sigh. The persistent Askole found me. Now I have a decision to make. Keep running or surrender to the High Commander. He is a damn good kisser.
Would the mating dance bring two lonely souls together? Who knew?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Excerpt:
Sariel abruptly changed the subject. “I had armor made for you.”
That got my attention. “Did you?” Since I was heading for the Wild West of the galaxy, body armor would come in handy. “What’s the catch?”
Amusement lit Sariel’s eyes. “So suspicious.”
“You bet your ass I am. What’s the catch?”
“A simple kiss and the armor is yours.” Sariel’s big hand cupped my ass.
Geeze, he was like an octopus. I removed his hand. “That’s it?”
“Yes.”
“Uh huh.” The sneaky bastard was planning something, but what? I kissed his chin. “There you go. Where’s my armor.
Sariel laughed. “A real kiss with tongue.”
I really wanted that armor. I pressed my lips to his and took small, careful tastes of his mouth. I didn’t want to impale myself on his fangs. Yep, Sariel definitely tasted like cinnamon. A wild, edgy excitement tore through me as our tongues tangled in a slow, sensual dance.
Sariel caught my chin in his hand and the hot friction of his mouth had me vibrating with pure, undiluted need. He was a fever in my blood. I burned for him. I had a sudden, overpowering need to fuck Sariel blind. No! No! No! This was bad on so many levels. I had to stop this before I did something stupid. “Stop! You’ve got your kiss. Where is my armor?”
“Obstinate to the end. Your former lover has much to answer for.”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
I was a 9-1-1 dispatcher for the Glendale Police Department and to keep from going totally bonkers – I mean people have no idea what a real emergency is. Take this for example: I answered, “9-1-1 emergency, what’s your emergency?” And this hysterical woman yelled, “My bird is in a tree.” Sometimes I really couldn’t help myself, so I said, “Birds have a tendency to do that, ma’am.” The woman screeched, “No! You don’t understand. My pet parakeet is in the tree. I’ve just got to get him down.” Like I said, not a clue. “I’m sorry ma’am but we don’t get birds out of trees.” The woman then cried, “But… What about my husband? He’s up there, too.” See what I had to deal with? To keep from hitting myself repeatedly in the head with my phone I took up writing.
Not everything is beautiful under the light of a silvery full moon. A new evil walks the night in the woods near Dante’s Hallow. Nicholas Harwood and his companions-a druid sorcerer, a witch, his best friend and a few ghosts, race against time to stop this new creature before the body count grows higher. Can they save the town without alerting the local people to the truth about the supernatural?
Excerpt
He was approaching a tight curve in the road where the forest grew thicker on both sides. Brutus stopped and stamped his feet, trying to turn around and head back to English Point. Nick had a hard time controlling the animal. “Easy boy, what is it what you sense?”
Nick stayed in the saddle. If he dismounted, Brutus might bolt. Something was frightening the horse, something the creature could sense but Nick couldn’t. Brutus acted like this when Nick tried to get him closer to the cemetery than the maple tree. Something was nearby, and standing here in the middle of the road with thick trees and brush on either side was a good way to get ambushed.
He adjusted his grip on the reins and tapped his flanks to signal the animal to run. Brutus obeyed. They raced along, coming quickly to the tight curve. They rounded it, and the horse reared, dumping Nicolas onto the gravel.
Brutus disappeared into the foliage, leaving Nick on the ground. When Nick finally caught his breath and sat up, there, several feet in front of him was a handcart filled with fish and ice and a man stretched out on the ground.
But that wasn’t what nearly stopped Nick’s heart, or what had terrified the horse.
It was the thing that was leaning over the man pulling his heart from his chest—a gigantic black wolf.
Augustina Van Hoven is a paranormal romance author who lifts the veil on the secrets hidden in the world around us. Whether it’s traveling through a crack in time, interacting with the dead, or meeting the supernatural creatures living among us, her characters find love in unexpected places. What would you do if you actually met a shifter? Or woke up a hundred and fifty years in the past? Or looked into a mirror and found the face staring back at you wasn’t your own? Come and read stories that show you what is possible if you will only believe.
Augustina was born in The Netherlands and currently resides in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and three cats. She is an avid reader of romance, science fiction and fantasy. When she’s not writing she likes to work in her garden or in the winter months, crochet and knit on her knitting machines.
The feud between fairies and wizards is an ancient threat in the magical world. Yet peace is possible. The child of a fairy and a wizard could reunite the factions of The Annunaki and end the unrest. Niall Warde had been a carefree soul trapped in the rigid, ordered life of a wizard apprentice when he discovered the girl of his dreams was a fairy. He would never know if their forbidden love could survive because she disappeared without a trace. Unable to find her, Niall blamed his father for Amelie’s disappearance and left home without looking back. Amelie Ricard knew she had to protect the baby she and Niall created. The fairies don’t want peace and her mother, their leader, would stop at nothing to prevent armistice, including killing her own grandchild. So, she must leave her son Kurtis with his father to be raised as a wizard. She left the infant on the steps of his father’s cottage then disappeared, also leaving behind the only man she’s ever loved. Thirty years later, Niall is called home for his father’s funeral where he reunites with Amelie. When Kurtis’ life is put into danger, Niall and Amelie must face the demons of the past to protect him. Neither can bring back the past, but can they have a future together? Will their son unite their people in peace?
Excerpt:
The heavy conversation hung in the air as thick as the humidity. Amelie understood the pain of losing a parent, but what could she say to comfort Niall? “I didn’t mean to intrude, Niall. Professional hazard? My subjects are usually less lively.”
He let out an unrestrained chuckle. “Amelie, you have a wonderful sense of humor.”
“I’ve been accused of many things, Niall. Having a sense of humor is not one of them.”
He smirked, communicating an entire conversation with the knowing look in his eyes.
She blushed under his direct perusal. “If you didn’t come with the high school tours, what brought you to the university today?”
He looked away as if trying to conceal his discomfort. When he turned to face her, he wore a hesitant look on his face, biting at his bottom lip in a way she just knew was out of character. “It’s foolish. I had a fight with my father. He wants me to join the family business. I don’t.”
Niall paused, but Amelie could see he wanted to confide in her, so she waited for him to continue.
“I parked at the edge of campus and wandered around for a bit. When I saw the large crowd outside the hall, I got curious.”
She muffled a giggle behind her hand. “I bet you were surprised you’d walked into an anthropology information session.”
“I won’t lie. It was the last thing I expected.”
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Maya Tyler is a multi-published author of paranormal romance novels and blogger at Maya’s Musings. An avid reader, Maya writes the books she loves to read—romances! Her paranormal romances come with complex plot twists and happily-ever-afters.
When she’s not writing, she enjoys reading, listening to music (alternative rock, especially from the 1990s), practicing yoga, and watching movies and TV.
Contact
Maya loves to hear from fellow authors and readers! Please connect with her through social media (see links below).
I enjoyed this story! It was a paranormal, humorous and fast paced. Three things I love in a romance novel. It was a case of instant-love for Amelie and Niall. These two were different paranormal species, that were at odds. Bowing to familial pressure they separated but the flames of love still flickered over the years.
If you’re looking for a fun, fast paced romance with lots of conflict and a preganancy surprise. I recommend this book :).
Enter the world of the most notorious gambling den in London, where matches are made… unusually. Welcome to the world of THE LYON’S DEN: The Black Widow of Whitehall Connected World, where the underground of Regency London thrives… and loves.
What’s a young lady to do when a powerful lord tries to abscond with her and make her his mistress?
When you’re Miss Honoria Quinn, you leap from his carriage and run like the wind to find some place to hide. Trouble is, Honoria mistakenly chooses The Lyon’s Den, a disreputable gambling house as her sanctuary, a move that ends up with her having to make another choice at the hands of the Den’s match-making proprietor Mrs. Dove-Lyons: wed a complete stranger or become the lord’s mistress.
No good deed goes unpunished…
Thomas, Lord Braeton agrees to attend a wager at The Lyon’s Den only to keep his brother-in-law out of trouble. What he doesn’t count on is becoming embroiled in one of Mrs. Dove-Lyons’s schemes to marry him off. But when he tries to come to the aid of another peer, Thomas finds the only honorable thing he can do to save Miss Quinn’s reputation is put aside his hopes for a love match for himself and instead offer to marry her.
As Thomas and Honoria set out on a wary journey to matrimony, can they learn to live together and hope love will grow between them? Or are they doomed to a loveless marriage of convenience from which one or both will want to escape?
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Excerpt:
“I can be very generous with you if you are equally generous with me.”
Then, quicker than a striking snake, he sank his mouth onto hers.
Completely shocked, Honoria couldn’t think what to do, leaving Lord Danford to take full advantage of her paralyzed body. Thrusting his tongue into her mouth, he plundered here and there, then pushed incredibly deeply into her throat until she almost gagged. Meanwhile, he slid his hands up onto her breasts, squeezing them until they ached, even through her clothing. At last, he released her right breast and that hand suddenly tried to worm its way underneath her skirts, his fingers brushing her knee, her thigh…
That touch, on her most intimate flesh, acted as a bucket of cold water thrown in Honoria’s face. She gasped as though coming up for air and was suddenly free of the deadly paralysis. Rearing back, she brought her arms up between them, planted her hands squarely on his chest, and heaved him across the carriage into the opposite corner. His head hit the windowpane with a crack, eliciting a groan from the man.
Lord Danford slowly sat up rubbing the back of his head. He cocked his head and frowned, like a puzzled hound. Without hesitation, Honoria grabbed the door handle, wrenched it downward, and threw it open.
The cobbled pavement flew by with dizzying speed, but she had no other choice. Taking a deep breath, and sending up a fervent prayer, she jumped.
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Jenna Jaxon is a best-selling author of historical romance, writing in a variety of time periods because she believes that passion is timeless. She has been reading and writing historical romance since she was a teenager. A romantic herself, Jenna has always loved a dark side to the genre, a twist, suspense, a surprise. She tries to incorporate all of these elements into her own stories.
She lives in Virginia with her family and a small menagerie of pets–including two vocal cats, one almost silent cat, two curious bunnies, and a Shar-pei mix named Frenchie.
Jenna Jaxon will be awarding a $20 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Enter to win a $20 Amazon/BN GC – a Rafflecopter giveaway @ http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/display/28e4345f4271
The more you comment, the better your chances of winning. The tour dates can be found here:
Can a high school romance that never happened have a second life in a small town?
Tracey Baker got out of Blakes Creek to find her purpose in life. She found it in the theatre scene in New York, but after ten years, she’s ready for a change. Working for the community theatre in her hometown is just what she needs—until she sees Ryan Greene.
Ryan Greene crushed on Tracey Baker in school, but he never thought she’d come back to Blakes Creek. When he sees her at the theatre, he’s determined to win her heart. His daughter Maisey is just as determined. She likes Tracey and sets out to prove her dad is Tracey’s Prince Charming.
Love might conquer all, but with the eyes and ears of the town focused on their relationship, Ryan and Tracey will have to prove they can set the stage alight together.
Excerpt:
“Ryan?” Tracey held a clipboard and one of the glittery chorus girl dresses. “Do you have a second?”
“I do.” He’d rather run. “How are you?”
“I’m good. Busy. You seem busy, too.” She smiled. “You’re doing well with the sets. I can’t wait to see them in action.”
“Thanks.” Was he blushing? The tips of his ears burned. “The costumes looked good. I haven’t seen them all, but I bet they’re great.”
“Oh, they’re not done yet. I still have to get everyone fitted properly and figure out where to add more glitz like Derek wants.” She fiddled with the garment in her hands. “I wanted to talk to you about Maisey.”
“What did she do?” He steeled himself for her answer. Maisey could tell tales and made things seem worse than reality. She craved attention, too.
“It’s not anything she did.” Tracey left the stage and strode out to the audience. “Here. This is less invasive. No, it’s what happened.”
“What happened? Did she try to set us up? She thinks I need another wife.” Shit. He shouldn’t have said that. “Sorry.”
Tracey paled. “Another? How many have you had?”
“One. Carol. It didn’t work out.” He shook his head. “Honestly, I’m not looking to date anyone.” He could be convinced if the right woman asked him on a date—like Tracey.
“Uh…she didn’t say anything about a date or a wife.” Tracey fumbled with the dress and perched on one of the seatbacks. “No, she was wearing another girl’s costume because the other girl wanted Maisey to be able to dance in the performance.”
He wobbled onto the seatback one aisle behind hers. “Come again? Maisey did what?”
“Maisey wants to dance, and she’s in the class showing she can do it. One of the girls, a friend, gave her the wrong costume—the friend’s—so Maisey wouldn’t have to pay for it and could participate. I asked Maisey, and she said her dad couldn’t afford for her to dance.”
He had to be honest, but he hated the embarrassment. “I work two jobs, and I don’t have the time or money for dance. I barely keep us fed.” He tried to hide his shame. Tracey didn’t need to see him upset. If he hadn’t been saddled with Jessica’s debts, he’d be better off.
“Do you mind if she takes part in the recital?” Tracey asked. “I saw her practice with the other girls, and she’s good. She deserves to dance. She’ll have a costume, if you’ll let her, since I took her measurements. Actually, she’s already got one.”
“How much?” He’d have to shuffle a few things to find the money, but he had to give Maisey this.
“Nothing.”
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary and paranormal to LGBTQ and white hot themes. No matter what the length, her works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s been nominated at the LRC for Best Author, Best Contemporary, Best Ménage, Best BDSM and Best Anthology. Her books have made it to the bestseller lists on Amazon.com.
When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but football is her sport of choice. She’s an active member of the Friends of the Keystone-LaGrange Public library.
Genre– Sci-Fi / SF Romance Publisher– Romance Lives Forever Books
Snuggle up with the Antonello Brothers. This boxed set contains all five exciting stories in the science fiction romance series, plus links to three bonus books.
Three brothers. One missing mother. Not raised together, none of the brothers knows about the other. That is, until fate brings the youngest into the life of a former warrior-pirate. From the moment Luc decides to intervene and save a frightened child, nothing in his life will ever be the same.
If you like science fiction romance on the sweeter side, have an ache for wounded heroes, and admire heroines who don’t wait around to be rescued… The Antonello Brothers series is for you.
♥ A Stolen Heart – This child can steal anything. Including a warrior-pirate’s heart…
♥ Bro – He can be invisible, but he can’t hide from the truth…
♥ At the Mercy of Her Pleasure – She’s addictive. He can’t touch her. But what if he kissed her just once…
♥ For Women Only – His secret truth is her people’s darkest lie…
♥ Crystal Clear Truth – How can you trust when your own truth is a lie…
Excerpt
#1 – A Stolen Heart
A Stolen Heart
In this scene, Luc and Senthys are riding in Luc’s hoversine (a limousine that flies right above the ground). The word arcane conjures up magic and sorcery, but its definition is “requiring secret or mysterious knowledge.” To Luc, who’s an Arcane Master in the Thieves’ Guild, those secrets are the lifeblood of the skill. Here, he explains one of the basic rules to Senthys, who is three. Pietas is the king, Luc’s ex.
The boy swung his feet, which, on the short rise of the hoversine’s safety seat, meant he kicked the main seat with his heels.
That was already old and it had just started. Luc leaned down close to distract him. “Let’s learn some thief rules.”
“Why?” Senthys tilted his head. “Don’t you already know them?”
Luc stopped himself from reacting. After all, he was talking to a child, not that different from talking to Pietas. “Yes, I do, and I’m going to teach them to you. I told you there would be two rules inside the store and if you obeyed them, you could pick out a toy.”
“Oh. I ‘member.” Like Luc, Senthys folded his hands before him. “Ready.”
“You are to stay next to me at all times. You may hold my hand if you like, but do not leave me to look at things, or to see things unless I give you permission. Is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Say it back to me.”
“Um…” The boy fidgeted. “All of it?”
Luc decided against counting for patience–to any number. “Tell me what you understood.”
“Stay with you.”
“Good! That’s perfect.”
The child bounced in his seat.
How delighted this boy was to do well. Luc must encourage that. “The other rule is not to steal anything in this store. Say it back to me.”
“Don’t steal in the store?”
“That’s right!” Luc patted his hands together. “What a good job.”
Senthys clapped, grinning.
“I’m going to tell you something and I want you to always remember it. Honorable thieves do not steal unless under contract. If an honorable thief cannot afford something, then he must work a regular job to earn the money.” Luc placed a hand on the boy’s arm. “My Deshai are honorable. They do not take things without a contract. Understand?”
“Yes, sir. Can I have a contract?”
“You can have one when you reach level thirteen. At that level, you can be hired professionally.”
“Are you level thirteen?”
Luc brushed at his sleeve. “I’m level forty-eight.”
“Oh.” The boy nodded as if impressed. “Is that better than thirteen?”
Amusing, however deflating that might be. “Quite a bit better,” Luc told him. “It’s the highest in the Guild. Arcane Master.”
Senthys cocked his head. “Then that’s what I want to be. A Arcane Mister.”
Kayelle Allen writes stories with immortal gamers and warriors who purr. She is the author of multiple books, novellas, and short stories, a US Navy veteran, and has been married so long she’s tenured. Become a Tarthian Empire citizen (or an immortal) and help rule the Empire at https://KayelleAllen.com/immortality
Diari doesn’t mind when Mommy goes into the city for work, because she and her little sister, Fatima, get to spend the whole day with Daddy.
From when the moon trades places with the sun until the sun trades places with the moon, daddies and daughters do everything together.
A day with Daddy means cooking, learning, dancing, and playing. After all, Daddy knows that with a little imagination, a sense of fun, and a lot of love, every part of a normal day can feel special!
EXCERPT
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Aissatou Balde is the creative director and editor in chief of TalesandTurbans.com, a lifestyle brand sought after by all those looking for an authentic and positive representation of womanhood, motherhood, and family. Aissatou currently lives in Indiana with her husband, Alhassane, and her two daughters, Diari and Fatima. Visit Daddiesanddaughtersco.com for more information.
It’s no surprise that six-year-old Diariatou Sow would become an author at such an early age. Diari is an avid reader, eager learner, and incredibly creative kid who loves learning new languages. When she is not dancing, drawing, playing with her little sister, or writing with her mom, she is hanging out with her dad, which is her favorite thing to do.
Nandi L. Fernandez is an illustrator, concept artist, and animator. While she grew up in Uganda, Zambia, and Liberia, her love for travel, art, and exploring different African cultures was nurtured. Nandi has worked as a concept artist and has illustrated educational materials and various children’s books. She currently resides in the United Kingdom.
In three years of college, there are seven times my life seemed to suddenly turn into a Jane Austen novel; seven times my life, instead of becoming a romance, turned into a made-for-TV drama.
What am I doing wrong?
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Jeanette Watts has written three Jane Austen-inspired novels, two other works of historical fiction, stage melodramas, television commercials, and humorous essays for Kindle Vella.
When she is not writing, she is either dancing, sewing, or walking around in costume at a Renaissance festival talking in a funny accent and offering to find new ladies’ maids for everyone she finds in fashionably-ripped jeans.
GENRE: Mystery (from the author: genre – mystery– “It is a bit hard to define as it combines elements of a YA adventure and her grandmother’s cozy love story.”)
BLURB:
Rose Hawthorne: The Irish Wanders follows Rose, a celebrity author in her early seventies, who dislikes the limelight but does like Hermes scarfs, round violet sunglasses, and old colonial hotels. One day, she receives a letter asking her to visit Newgrange, Ireland and discover something that has been hidden there for a thousand years.
She asks her granddaughter Samantha to accompany her, but she hadn’t expected her to continually post photos of their progress on her Instagram account. An encounter with an old love and an unexpected discovery leads Rose deeper into the past, where she finds she must make a hard decision about her future.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Excerpt:
Dear Rose Hawthorne,
I have read and re-read your books many times and think that you might be just the person to help me. It is my belief that something valuable is hidden in the archaeological site at Newgrange, Ireland. I am not certain what it might be, but I have recently read a book that leads me to this conclusion. Unfortunately, I have not been able to locate anything, but I feel that you might be able to make an exciting discovery. At the very least, you may be able to write a new book based on what you might find sleeping in a niche in Newgrange.
I hope that this proposal interests you. I regret that you must undertake this trip at your own expense. Should you wish for additional information, please e-mail me at Rousseau@gmail.com
“Oh, come on,” she had said in an e-mail, “you’re not going to give me a clue like that and expect me to guess, are you?”
The letter writer replied that they were not giving anything away but added that Rose would not be disappointed if she came to investigate.
The writer had never revealed himself, and she had never been able to trace the letter as there had been no return address.
Rose had e-mailed a few more times, requesting more information but had received very little.
The author of the letter had asked her only to read all that she could about the site from the Neolithic and Celtic periods.
When again she asked what she should be looking for, the author suggested something about the size of her palm. He hinted that it might be the most extraordinary artifact ever discovered in Ireland.
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Shannon O’Gorman is a retired ESL teacher who has recently completed her second walk on the Camino de Santiago. She is currently training her dog to accompany her on a Camino one day. She lives in California with her husband and daughter when university is not in session.
Shannon O’Gorman will be awarding a $40 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.Enter to win a $40 Amazon/BN GC – a Rafflecopter giveawaybelow:
Taboo contemporary erotic romance (Five flames) BDSM/Ménage/Multiple partners/lesbian/gay Approximately 87,000 words, 293 pages HEA ending
Blurb
During the day, Miranda Cahill works diligently on her doctoral thesis. At night, she has sex with strangers.
Public coupling, multiple partners, age play, spankings, bondage, lesbian lust—each salacious adventure exposes new dimensions of her depravity. Her secret life explodes when she realizes her masked partner at a kink club and the charismatic colleague courting her are in fact the same man.
Dickens scholar Mark Anderson seems like an affable, uncomplicated Midwesterner, but he has hidden depths, myriad talents, and an unlimited appetite for erotic variety. With Mark as her guide, Miranda comes to accept the intricacy of her own desires, as well as to trust her heart.
Reader Advisory: This novel is an erotic romance featuring a committed relationship and culminating in a wedding. Nevertheless, the main characters participate in a wide range of taboo sexual activities, both together and separately.
Excerpt (Rated R)
“Lovely,” sighed a cultured feminine voice, close to her ear. “Don’t you agree?”
Miranda whirled round, startled and embarrassed. She hadn’t realized that she had companions in her blatant voyeurism.
They were young, close to her own age, and enough alike in stature and demeanor that they could have been siblings. Both had thick brunette hair. His was brushed back from his brow, while she wore hers in a bob with blunt bangs. They were both clad in tight black jeans and tank tops that highlighted every curve and swelling of their athletic bodies. Prominent nipples capped her small breasts, clearly visible through the clinging fabric. His half-engorged organ was equally obvious.
Of course both of them wore masks. Near-identical brown eyes gleamed behind their dominoes. It was their mouths, though, that captured Miranda’s attention, their ripe perfect lips inviting, sensuous, bowed in the perpetual promise of a smile.
Miranda ached to kiss those mouths, to trace their luscious curves with the tip of her tongue. She felt the ache in her throat, in her chest, in her painfully taut nipples, in the damp, hungry recesses of her sex. Her palms yearned to glide over those smooth thighs, those flat bellies. She wanted them, both of them, craved them in a visceral way that was totally new to her.
She stifled a moan, and took the hand the woman extended.
“I’m Marla,” the other woman said, her voice melodious and a bit husky. “And this is Marcus.” The young man smiled mysteriously but said nothing. “We were admiring your costume.”
It took Miranda a moment to recall the red velvet jumpsuit that she had chosen from Lucy’s wardrobe. It was defiantly flamboyant, clinging to her body like a sensuous second skin. A gold-colored zipper ran from the scoop neck down to her navel. Matching zippers adorned her wrists and ankles. She knew that the color suited her, contrasted with the hair spilling over her shoulders like a river of jet. She also knew how obvious it was that she was naked underneath the velvet. Not a shy garment, but perhaps just right for tonight.
Choked with desire, she found it difficult to speak. “Thank you,” she managed, finally, then couldn’t resist asking, “Are you twins?”
They gave similar, musical laughs. “Not exactly,” said the one called Marcus. “But we enjoy pretending.”
On June 16th, I will randomly select one grand-prize winner who’ll get a $10 gift certificate, plus two runner-ups who can choose any ebook from my indie back list.
AboutLisabet
Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – over one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.
Lexa Kozlov must pay off her family’s massive debt to the mob… all while raising even more money to save her little sister. The result? A never-ending (and incredibly illegal) stakeout for the Bratva. Lexa barely has time to sleep, let alone find love.
Enter Caelin Vass, the handsome Scotsman who runs Empire Investments. Caelin offers Lexa a new job with dollars galore, as well as a hot bod (his own) to contemplate every workday. Even so, Lexa isn’t sure. Freaky things keep happening whenever Lexa and Caelin are alone. The energy between them is magical, sensual, and way overwhelming.
Is Lexa leaving her old prison just to enter a worse one… or is Caelin Vass all he seems and more?
***12,000 word novella, previously published on Kindle Vella as Blood Slave***
Don’t you just love this cover…
Excerpt:
My heels click along the wooden floor as I make my way through the shadows. At last, I reach the end of the hallway. The next door is closed, but its shape is outlined by the light beyond.
That’s where my potential employer waits. Caelin Vass. My heart thuds faster.
I press my palm against the door. It swings open with barely any pressure. Stepping across the threshold, I enter a fancy version of the Lucky Ladies’ Lounge. Where Otto’s place is all torn furniture covered in questionable stains, this room holds real leather club chairs. Across from the sitting area, there’s a large wooden desk. Red velvet curtains cover the windows. Plush oriental rugs line the floor. Oil paintings of the Scottish countryside cover the walls.
On a nearby couch sits the exact man I saw last night. Turns out, my hallucinating skills are pretty accurate. Vass’ broad shoulders fill out his dark suit perfectly. Every strand of his dark hair is perfectly combed to highlight his intense stare.
Oh, those eyes.
Vass is the kind of man who looks right through you. I feel exposed, like every scintilla of my soul is laid bare on the fancy carpet. Vass also sports the perfect level of scruff on his chin, too. I’m a sucker for that. And don’t get me started on his lips. I can’t help but picture his full mouth on my breast.
Wait, WHAT? Am I really thinking about sex right now?
I straighten my skirt and wait by the door. Vass keeps staring at me. A strange kind of electricity fills the air. The room seems to collapse until there is only me and Vass. I don’t believe in hocus pocus, but if I didn’t know better? I’d think the guy is trying a mind spell on me. What did they call it in that movie I watched with Mom? Vampire glamour.
Right.
The guy is just trying to psych me out, end of story. It’s another power play, like having his secretary ask me to strip down while he can watch it all on closed circuit cameras or whatever. Total creep move. The more I think about it, the angrier I get.
And my temper takes over. Again.
I set my fist on my hip and run off my mouth. “Next time, if you want to see my lady bits, take me out to a nice dinner first. You know, like an actual man.”
The sense of power and connection instantly snaps. An odd chill fills the room. Vass watches me for a long minute. And I might be imagining things, but it seems that his lips are parted in an expression of disbelief.
I squint and get a better look. Turns out, I’m totally right. His mouth is hanging open.
Score one for Lexa.
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
CEE BEE writes stories that blend epic fantasy, steamy romance, and lots of sass. If you want immersive tales that transport you to fresh worlds (and new book boyfriends) then you’ve come to the right author. To learn more about CEE BEE, please visit http://www.ceebeeauthor.com. Her new book, VIOLINS AND VAMPIRES, is available on Kindle Unlimited: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B09ZYVCNC3
CEE BEE also writes young adult fare under the name Christina Bauer. Check out Christina’s books at http://www.christinabauerauthor.com. There’s a literal sh*t ton of them.
Hey friends! Seelie Kay stopped by to tell us about her sizzling new release “Vive La Resistance”. A must read for PNR lovers who love a dash of suspense!
Paranormal Romance, Romantic Suspense, Contemporary Romance, Fantasy
Three flames, 21+
An Interview with Seelie Kay:
Q. Why do you write romance?
Since the onset of the pandemic, I have totally changed my attitude toward writing romance. While I was long enamored of the happily-ever-after because it brought me and readers joy, I have concluded that my true purpose in writing romance is to give me and my readers hope. Let’s face it, the pandemic has been traumatic—for everyone. It evolved into one of the most chaotic situations of our time, something we had never before experienced. I was grasping at anything that would give me hope and found myself turning daily to romance books and tales of finding or sustaining love. So now, I write to give people hope.
Q. Do you prefer a certain type of romantic hero?
That also changed during the pandemic. While I still adore smart, dashing gentlemen who aren’t afraid to live on the edge, I found myself focusing more on principled men, those willing to fight for what they believe in. And now, you will that find my heroes also have a strong sense of family. They value the support a family can provide. Of course, the definition of “family” varies and comprises more than the traditional assortment of parents, siblings, and relatives.
However, these “heroes” continue pair with strong, independent women who aren’t afraid to fight for what they want, even love.
Q. Why did you write “Vive la Resistance?”
At the foundation of this book is the belief that people cannot be afraid to speak out against wrongs, especially those inflicted on others, and they must be willing to fight against evil, even at the risk of death. Soldiers and peacekeepers do that every day. We live in turbulent times. It is so easy to say, “Not my problem,” and turn away. But sometimes, you don’t have that choice. You have to stand up and fight back. Donovan Trait is a vampire lawyer. In the human world, a very respected lawyer. Now he must use his skills to save the half-bloods—vampires whose blood is mixed with human or Were. What began as a Vampire Coalition vendetta against his turned wife, Judge Shirley Magnusen, who gave birth to half-blood twins in violation of her marital agreement, has extended to the elimination of all half-bloods. A campaign of genocide. However, this is not a battle that can occur with boots on the ground in the presence of humans and Weres. It must be fought in the shadows to prevent exposing the vampire world to humans. So it must be fought virtually, and soon it becomes clear that the resistance may be winning battles, but the Vampire Coalition will never concede the war. The final battle must occur in person. Sacrifices will be made, lives will be lost, and the vampire world will be shattered. But the real question is, what will emerge from the ashes? Vive la Resistance (Long Live the Resistance)!
Blurb:
Things are gonna get messy…
An illegal union, a banned birth, a Great Lie, and now, genocide. Vampire lawyer Donovan Trait and his wife, chemically-turned Judge Shirley Magnusen, are battling for their lives and the lives of their children. The Vampire Coalition wants them dead, but now the despots have also decided to expand their net, targeting any vampire whose blood is mixed with human or Were. Half-bloods are already treated like dirt by the Vampire Nation. They have been subjected to centuries of discrimination and cruelty at their hands. As the Coalition embarks on a campaign of terror, destruction, and slaughter, millions of half-bloods emerge from the shadows, ready and willing to reclaim their place in the Vampire Nation. The problem is, war cannot be unleashed out in the open in the human world. Battles must be fought in other ways. Even with an island of highly-skilled vampire nuns and a few Weres and humans at their side, it appears the Traits may be fighting an unwinnable war. Their only option may be to sacrifice their own lives in the hopes of setting all other half-bloods free.
Excerpt:
Donovan shifted on the lounger and muttered incomprehensively, then he emitted a rumbling snore.
“Hey, y’all. So yeah, vampires are real and they’re not above doing the dirty to those who share their blood. Take a look at this.” The Tik-Tokker grinned. “You are not gonna believe it. It’s so shady.”
Video of the Coalition camps rolled across the screen. Occasionally, the camera zeroed in a dirty or bruised Millennial, or a guard pushing a group of people into a building, their ankles locked together with some sort of rope. They were seen eating off of metal plates and lined up to fill a metal cup with something from a barrel. It wasn’t water. The liquid was rust-colored and thick, like blood.
“And the dudes running the place have a Marie Antoinette fetish. You know—” The woman mimicked a knife across her throat. “Off with their heads?” She giggled.
A guillotine appeared on camera. About ten people were in line, each with a black hood over their heads and their arms bound behind them. One at a time, they were pushed onto a stage and forced to their knees, their necks positioned directly under the blade. With manic efficiency, a guard released the blade. Most heads flew into a barrel in front of the platform. The ones that rolled off onto the stage were kicked to their final destination. The headless bodies were tossed onto a pile on the ground.
“Oh, grosss,” the woman complained. She leaned toward the camera. “Kind of like a bad zombie movie, isn’t it?” She sat back in her chair and made a face. “Whatever. I mean, like, are we supposed to believe that’s really happening? Isn’t that against the law or something?” She cackled. “As if.” She leisurely stretched her body, her crop top exposing a belly button ring. “I’m so shook.”
The woman tossed her hair over her shoulder and smiled. “Now, I’m not sharing this for the views. It is kind of sus. But if this shit is real, someone needs to get off the pot and do something about it. Aren’t there any woke cops out there who can play the James Bond card? Before anymore—” She swiped her finger across her throat and giggled. Then the screen went black.
Donovan shot up in his chair and blinked. Once. Twice. He shook his head and attempted to gather himself. What the hell? Sure, he had needed the sleep, even if it was only a thirty-minute nap, but the dreams he could do without. It had been less than forty-eight hours since the worldwide kidnappings. Donovan knew preparations for rescue were underway. But he also knew Bengotten and Hannigan were capable of even greater cruelty. He could only imagine the terror and the torture the victims were being subjected to.
It was difficult to understand how the vampire world was capable of this. He had long prided himself on their natural superiority, their ability to rise up above the petty politics and unjustified violence in the human and Were worlds. Yet overnight, vampires had become the monsters, the tyrants capable of such evil. That astonished him. For the first time in his long existence, Donovan was ashamed of being a vampire. If it was possible, he might very well submit to being turned into a human or a Were. He buried his face in his hands. Yes, he could live as a human. Perhaps he could ask Dr. Alvarez to find a way to turn off his vampirism, maybe using the gene-editing Marilyn could not stop talking about.
Writing under a nom de plume, the former lawyer and journalist draws her stories from more than 30 years in the legal world. Seelie’s wicked pen has resulted in twenty-two works of fiction, including the new paranormal romance series Donovan Trait,as well the erotic romance Kinky Briefsseries and The Feisty Lawyers romantic suspense series. She also authored The Last Christmas, The Garage Dweller, A Touchdown to Remember, The President’s Wife, The President’s Daughter, Seizing Hope, The White House Wedding, and participated in the romance anthology Pieces of Us.
When not spinning romantic tales, Seelie ghostwrites nonfiction for lawyers and other professionals. Currently, she resides in a bucolic exurb outside Milwaukee, WI, where she enjoys opera, the Green Bay Packers, gourmet cooking, organic gardening, and an occasional bottle of red wine.
Seelie is an MS warrior and ruthlessly battles the disease on a daily basis. Her message to those diagnosed with MS: Never give up. You define MS, it does not define you!
Warrior Priest by Kate Hill Science Fiction Romance
Blurb:
What happens when a warrior priest from a strict religion meets a free-spirited priestess from a new age commune?
Jade and Selena are as different as two people can be, but to facilitate an alliance between their worlds, they engage in a cultural exchange. With their galaxy in danger from a planet that wants to conquer or destroy all others, they realize the importance of their assignment, but it is difficult for a warrior priest and a nonviolent priestess to understand each other.
Selena is both attracted and appalled by his old school masculinity, and Jade is tempted to break his vow of celibacy until marriage due to his powerful desire for her. Will this unlikely pair not only find common ground, but unconditional love?
Excerpt:
At six feet three inches with a large build, Jade often considered his cell at the
temple cramped. During his travels, he’d lived in caves, cottages, tents, and mud huts. He
had even endured a Kimbrian prison camp. Still, he wasn’t fully prepared for Selena’s
little house.
“It used to be a caravan,” she said.
They removed their boots, left them on a rubber mat, and hung their coats on
hooks near the entrance.
“Ned and Rayne helped me renovate it so that I’d have a little more space.”
“Ned?”
“Yes. Before joining the commune, he was a builder. Well, he still is. He’s been
in charge of building many of our shelters and clinics all over Neidress. He’s super
talented and smart.”
“I got that feeling.”
“He’s also great with his hands. He can build just about anything.”
“That’s a little surprising,” Jade admitted, picturing the plump, bookish priest.
“I know, right?” Selena chuckled. “It’s said that looks can be deceiving. Come on.
I’ll put some wood on the stove. It’s freezing.”
While Selena walked to a small, old-fashioned iron stove toward the center of the
house, Jade glanced around. The caravan was made for efficiency, but it had an almost
storybook charm. It fit Selena perfectly, but Jade felt too big for the house.
“It’ll heat up fast in here.” Selena stood and brushed wood chips off her clothes.
“That’s a guarantee.” Jade smiled and stepped closer to take her in his arms.
*Eileen Dreyer will be awarding a $20 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.*
GENRE: Paranormal Romance
BLURB:
He’s had enough…
Harry Wyatt, Earl of Hartley has enough problems trying to keep his estate solvent. What he does not need is yet another lost child showing up on his land looking for the Hartley Fairy Diamond made famous by a recent film. A fairy diamond that is no more than myth handed down by delusional ancestors and responsible for the perilous state of his finances. And yet there is something about this latest visitor, something beside her delicate beauty and troubling familiarity. Something that is compelling him to go against everything he believes to help her. To want her.
She’s on a quest…
Sorcha, daughter of Mab Queen of Fairies is on a quest. Dropped into a cold, alien world, it is her task to recover the great fairy stone that has been lost to the land of mortals, a stone whose absence has upended the balance of nature. If she doesn’t get the stone back, spring will not come. But there is a handsome mortal standing in her way. A mortal she is drawn to like no other man, fairy or mortal. A mortal who claims he doesn’t believe in her, but whose memories and fears say otherwise. A mortal with green fairy eyes. A mortal she could love, if only he weren’t mortal and she fairy.
Note: This title was previously published as Dark Seduction
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Excerpt Two:
Harry saw the confusion in the young woman’s eyes and huffed in frustration. It wasn’t enough that he had another of those damn movie freaks wandering his property. He had one who thought she was actually participating in the film, like a fairy version of a Renaissance Fair. Reality? What is reality? No, no, I’d prefer to live in a fantasy world like the people in the movie.
Well, damn the movie. He wasn’t putting up with it a moment more. Not even when he still couldn’t quite pull himself away from the heart-stopping kiss they’d just shared. All right, then. The kiss he’d just taken.
It hadn’t meant a thing. Surprise. Sudden human contact out on the edge of the moors. A hit on the head. God knows he’d bounced enough down that bloody hill. He’d been stunned. Nothing more. Nothing.
“Did you say it’s, what? Winter?” she asked, looking around.
Bloody hell
He sighed. “Yes. For another four months.”
She stood there, wide-eyed and silent, the rain dripping off those blond curls. Then she looked around. “This is what it looks like without spring?”
She sounded absolutely lost. How could that hurt him? He was probably coming down with pneumonia and already delirious.
“November comes every year, lass,” he said, pulling off his jacket and wrapping the shivering girl in it. “Right on schedule.”
“But spring won’t come,” she said back. “Not unless I recover the Stone.”
That brought him to a dead stop. “Don’t,” he growled, finger in her face. “There is no stone. No fairy diamond. It was a movie, damn it! And no bloody fairies! Fairies don’t exist. They never existed, damn it!”
“But of course they do,” she assured him in the most musical voice he’d ever heard as she stood there letting him drape her in his oversize coat. And then, bloody hell if she didn’t smile as if she’d just discovered gold. “Aren’t you the living proof of it, now?”
It was his eyes, green like spring grass in sunlight. Fairy eyes.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
New York Times bestselling author and RWA Hall of Fame member Eileen Dreyer and her evil twin Kathleen Korbel have published over forty novels and novellas, and ten short stories in genres ranging from medical suspense to paranormal to romance. She is thrilled to have joined Oliver Heber Books to continue her Drake’s Rakes series about Regency aristocrats who are willing to sacrifice everything to keep their country safe, of which Ill Met by Moonlight is a near relative.
A former trauma nurse, Eileen lives in St. Louis with her husband, children and large and noisy Irish family, of which she is the reluctant matriarch. A seasoned conference speaker, Dreyer travels to research, and uses research as an excuse to travel. Oh, who’s she kidding? She doesn’t need an excuse. She has the Irish wanderlust and satisfies it as often as she can to the point that she has sung traditional Irish music on four continents. She also had the incredible chance to research Drake’s Rakes by attending the 200th anniversary of not only the Battle of Waterloo, but the Duchess of Richmond ball (in period attire). She has animals, but refuses to subject them to the limelight.
Lies. Betrayal. A blown undercover mission. After ten years away, DEA agent Jarrett Brandt heads home to pay his respects to his deceased brother and hide out from the cartel kingpin who wants him dead. The last thing he needs is Marissa, his high school sweetheart, tempting him with her sassy smile and showing him the life he gave up. Add on his judgmental parents, and he’s ready to hit the road. Widowed mom Marissa Reinn never had much luck with the Brandt boys. First Jarrett broke her heart, then she lost his brother—her husband—to a bullet. Vowing to uncover Jarrett’s secrets, she succumbs to the passion still burning between them instead. When a team of assassins find him, Jarrett and Marissa will have to work together to survive and protect her son. How will they seize their second chance at love with their lives on the line?
Excerpt:
He nibbled her earlobe until a sweet gasp escaped her mouth.
“Jarrett, wait. Not outside my son’s room. C’mon.” She dragged him into her bedroom and pushed him against the door. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”
“So are you.” He cupped her ass and dragged her up his body. Oh, hell. He’d never get enough of her. Those legs and her breasts—fuck. As she wrapped her long limbs around him, he seized her lips and pushed away from the door.
“The bed,” she mumbled the words against his mouth.
He laid her down and topped her. “Lift your arms, baby.” He jerked off her sweater and groaned. The overhead light cast a golden glow across her smooth skin and curly hair. A sexy red-and-green striped bra cradled her breasts. He licked one of her taut nipples from atop the fabric and moaned from the scent of sugar cookies.
Marissa gasped and arched her back, pressing her breasts against his face.
“You’re killing me.” He nuzzled her chest before sliding his hands to her back and freeing the bra clasp. Her breasts bounced free and grazed his chest. His cock throbbed so painfully against his zipper that he lurched forward and dry humped her.
“Like what you see?” Her mouth hitched up in a smile.
“Tease.” He glided his tongue across her other nipple.
“Yes, more.”
He stroked the curve of her soft bottom lip. She swiped her pretty pink tongue over his fingertip, trying to draw it into her warm mouth, but he pulled back and jerked off his shirt. After he stripped off his jeans and underwear, she pushed him down on the mattress and swirled her amazing tongue across his chest. Ah, fuck. His muscles bunched as she trailed her decadent kisses down his abs and upper right thigh, circumventing his needy, straining cock.
Amber Daulton is the author of the romantic-suspense series Arresting Onyx and several standalone novellas. Her books are published through Daulton Publishing, The Wild Rose Press, and Books to Go Now, and are available in ebook, print on demand, audio, and foreign language formats.
About the Author
She lives in North Carolina with her husband and demanding cats.
Anya Summers will be awarding a $25 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.
GENRE: Contemporary Erotic Romance
BLURB:
Xavier Campbell needs a miracle. If he doesn’t want to lose the life he’s worked so hard to build, he must get married, and quickly. Trouble is, there is no woman in his life. Not even a friend with benefits. As a regular Dom at Eternal Eros, he gets what he needs and goes home. And a wife? Hell, no. This Highlander is single for a reason. So when his entire existence threatens to come crashing down, he realizes he might have to make some adjustments…or a bargain with the she-devil who beguiles him, body and mind, from the first moment he touches her.
Emma Morton wants a man. To play with. Watch television with. Cuddle with. And yes, God help her, she wants him hard, naked, and in her bed. More than once. What she doesn’t want is complications. Expectations. She is dedicated to her work, to building her business. She’s worked too long and too hard to change her plans for something as fleeting as love. No matter how much she wishes otherwise, life has repeatedly proven that romance is a myth. Pure fairytale.
But passion? Yes. She could definitely go for a ‘Single’s Night’ of play—and release—at the infamous Eternal Eros.
After one scorching night of pleasure, a reckless bargain is made. Marriage with an expiration date. A business arrangement. Nothing more.
But what starts as a farce becomes a bit too real and Xavier realizes this is no game. Telling Emma the truth would be dangerous…especially when he realizes he is playing for keeps.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Excerpt:
She was in no mood to trade barbs with the beast. Xavier narrowed his gaze. She hated that the authoritarian glare on his chiseled face made flutters erupt in her belly.
“Don’t mind him, lass, my brother has always had a stick up his bum.”
She glanced at the man sitting on the barstool beside her. Jasper Campbell was the evil bartender’s younger brother. Where Xavier was stern and broody, his brother was a charmer with a winning smile. They looked alike. Both tall, brawny men with dark hair, Scottish accents, and gorgeous bodies.
She leaned toward Jasper and asked, “Did you put it there, or is the stick self-inflicted?”
Jasper barked a laugh, his cobalt gaze twinkling with mirth. “Oh, you are a spunky one. Why haven’t we ever scened together?”
“I don’t know but be careful, one scene with me, and I’d ruin you for all other submissives,” she unabashedly teased him.
“Is that a fact?” Jasper studied her with avid interest. “Perhaps you’ll pull my marker tonight, and we’ll find out.”
“Maybe.” She flirted, liking the easygoing Scot. He was dressed in a kilt like his brother, although he wasn’t as broad through the chest. “Now, I have always wondered, anything underneath the kilt?”
Jasper cast her a lopsided smirk chock-full of innuendo. “If you want to find out, just say the word, lass. We can escape now before the event begins and I would be more than happy to show you mine—that is, if you’d show me yours.”
“Macallan, double, neat.” Her drink was thunked onto the bar.
She shot a glance at Xavier. Pasting a smile on her face, she made sure her voice dripped with derision. “Thank you, Sir.”
Xavier’s face darkened, and his full lips flattened into a thin line. If only he weren’t so damn handsome. The strong, blunt lines of his face were partially shrouded by his black beard. His thick, inky brows were currently scowling at her.
Her brain seemed to be disconnected from her mouth tonight as she asked Jasper, “Is he always this grumpy?”
Thunderclouds darkened Xavier’s expression. He appeared like he wanted to throttle her at the question. She didn’t know why she was pushing the onery bartender’s buttons. She knew she was dancing a fine line, and one wrong step would give the big brute just cause to discipline her. Except, she was having fun for a change, and didn’t want to stop needling the guy. He seemed to bring it out of her with his scowls and muttered oaths. And, truth be told, she would never be a simpering, docile submissive. Emma liked challenging them because it pruned the Doms who couldn’t handle her.
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Born in St. Louis, Missouri, Anya grew up listening to Cardinals baseball and reading anything she could get her hands on. She remembers her mother saying if only she would read the right type of books instead binging her way through the romance aisles at the bookstore, she’d have been a doctor. While Anya never did get that doctorate, she graduated cum laude from the University of Missouri-St. Louis with an M.A. in History.
Anya is a bestselling and award-winning author published in multiple fiction genres. She also writes urban fantasy, paranormal romance, and contemporary romance under the name Maggie Mae Gallagher. A total geek at her core, when she is not writing, she adores attending the latest comic con or spending time with her family. She currently lives in the Midwest with her two furry felines.
Zeke Kendall doesn’t believe in fairies. He’s a scientist; an anthropologist who has spent the last ten years digging in the harsh deserts of the American Southwest. But things look a lot different in the soft green shadows of Ireland. There it is easier to believe that magic exists, especially when Zeke tumbles off a fairy mound and ends up in the arms of the beautiful Nuala, who seems to know everything about him. When she tells him she is a fairy, he actually wants to believe it, even as he knows better.
She can’t believe…
Nuala is daughter of Mab, Queen of Fairies. She has grown up in the twilightland of the fae, fiercely loyal and loving to her people. But she has also been in love with Zeke Kendall ever since she first saw him in her scrying water as a child. To now have him so close is both joy and torture.
For she is the heir to the great crown of the Tuatha de Danann fairy clan. She has no place in Zeke’s world. And he, a man drawn in the sharp edges of his deserts, has no place in hers. Even as passion rises and the love she’d only dreamed of blossoms into reality, Nuala knows that a future for them is impossible. And yet, she can’t find a way to send him back to his own world.
Note: This title was previously published as Dark Seduction
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Excerpt:
“I want to know about you.” Zeke shook his head, his smile a bit tentative. “Don’t I know you?”
His hand had fallen back to his side. Nuala saw him rub at his jeans leg, as if testing himself.
“Ah, well…” she managed, briefly looking into the shadows of the glen where tiny wee beings passed their lives among the bluebells and foxglove. “That’ll take some explaining. Why don’t we walk, then?”
Zeke took a quick look around. “I guess that would be okay. I won’t get lost, will I?”
“No more than you are now.”
He flashed her another grin. “In that case, lead on.”
She frowned, still anxious after that fall of his. “You’re feelin’ all right, then? Your head isn’t bothering you? It was quite a tumble you took, you know.”
“Yes, I do know. I can feel every rock I rolled over. But my head only hurts a little now, and the dizziness is better.”
“And you’re not feeling anything else? Anything troubling?”
“Other than a massive amount of confusion?”
This time Nuala smiled. “And why should you be, now? ‘Tis all very simple. You climbed a hill to find the fairy queen, and so you did.”
His expression was wry again. “Did I tell you I don’t believe in fairies?”
“Did I not tell you that matters to no one here but you?”
He laughed, and Nuala felt her heart leap like a salmon. “As long as I know the ground rules.” He shook his head again, a lock of hair escaping its confines and sweeping his forehead. “But it’s going to take some getting used to.”
Nuala tilted her head, savoring the sparkle of his wit, his words. “What?”
“This place. This dream. It’s so real, but it’s not real at all, which makes me think I can do anything here and not pay the consequences.”
Oh, she should tell him not to believe. Not to give in to the sorcery of this place and assume that all was possible without cost. He would be gone soon, back to his family, and she would be left to lead her fractious, frivolous clan through the next millennium with a consort she hadn’t chosen but had promised herself to. Zeke would be hurt. She would be shattered, never to be put back together again.
But she couldn’t. Sure, she couldn’t say so much as a word.
Selfishly, she wanted him to fall in love with her. She wanted, with a desperation that ached in her, for him to look to her every minute, to smile when he saw her, to laugh when they made love. She wanted to be the only woman in his eyes, even for the short time they had. Since she’d loved him that way for so long.
So she smiled, her decision made, and led him farther into the land of faerie.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
New York Times bestselling author and RWA Hall of Fame member Eileen Dreyer and her evil twin Kathleen Korbel have published over forty novels and novellas, and ten short stories in genres ranging from medical suspense to paranormal to romance. She is thrilled to have joined Oliver Heber Books to continue her Drake’s Rakes series about Regency aristocrats who are willing to sacrifice everything to keep their country safe, of which Ill Met by Moonlight is a near relative.
A former trauma nurse, Eileen lives in St. Louis with her husband, children and large and noisy Irish family, of which she is the reluctant matriarch. A seasoned conference speaker, Dreyer travels to research, and uses research as an excuse to travel. Oh, who’s she kidding? She doesn’t need an excuse. She has the Irish wanderlust and satisfies it as often as she can to the point that she has sung traditional Irish music on four continents. She also had the incredible chance to research Drake’s Rakes by attending the 200th anniversary of not only the Battle of Waterloo, but the Duchess of Richmond ball (in period attire). She has animals, but refuses to subject them to the limelight.
A fated encounter. A familiar stranger. A storm of passion. Can Ondine release her fear, surrender to Marut’s power, and claim her own?
Marine biologist Ondine Ambrose has always felt at home in the sea. Orphaned at birth and raised by her grandmother on the island of Martha’s Vineyard, she has never really questioned her extraordinary affinity for the watery world.
When she encounters an attractive but arrogant engineer on her private beach, surveying the site for a prospective off-shore wind farm, anger is her first reaction. A casual touch, however, transforms that emotion to incomprehensible, irresistible, terrifying lust.
Ebony-skinned Marut has his own talents—aside from his uncanny ability to swamp Ondine with desire. He can control the winds and summon storms. When he insists that they are both more than human, and that she is his destined mate, Ondine responds with skepticism. She tries to resist the charismatic Haitian, but ultimately she cannot deny the evidence of her senses—and her heart.
Note: This book was previously published by Totally Bound. It has been revised and re-edited for this release.
“Wind is far less destructive than fossil fuels. You know that.”
The stranger cupped his tea mug in his big hands. Marut, he called himself. His handsome face wore an earnest expression, while his body was wrapped in her old terrycloth robe, the one she planned to donate to Goodwill. Meanwhile, Ondine herself wore a loose T-shirt and sweatpants that effectively hid her curves. No sense tempting fate.
She hadn’t intended to bring him here, but his clothing was soaked and, like her, he had bloody abrasions on his hands and knees from their fierce encounter on the rocks. So she’d led him over the dunes—careful not to touch him—to the weathered clapboard house she’d inherited from her grandmother. After giving him antiseptic and Band Aids, she’d left him alone in the downstairs bathroom to clean himself up and tend to his wounds. She certainly didn’t intend to play nurse to him, that was certain. She had no idea what had possessed her out on the beach, but she didn’t want to experience it again.
Not that it hadn’t felt wondrous. Indeed, every time she looked at him, she recalled the overwhelming hunger that had seized her. The memory of their frantic encounter unnerved her. The pleasure had been incredible. The loss of control, though, had been terrifying.
Ondine was no virgin, but she’d always been careful about sex. She was normally the one who chose the time and place. And after her mother’s tragic experience, she was unfailingly vigilant about contraception, all the more so because her body would tolerate neither the pill nor an IUD. As she showered off the grit, sweat and semen, she felt grateful that her interactions with Marut had not involved penetration. She didn’t normally carry condoms on a walk to the beach.
He was a stranger, possibly even an enemy. There was something unnatural about the intimacy they’d shared, so sudden and so potent. She would need to remain on her guard.
Rousing herself from her musings, she sipped her own tea and nibbled at one of her ginger snaps. “Of course. Oil, gas, coal—they’re bad news. But why not build your wind farm on dry land? You’d have a much smaller ecological impact.”
“Nobody wants a ninety meter steel tower in their backyard.”
“So you put it where there’s no one to object!”
“In many cases the winds are stronger and more reliable offshore too.”
“And that justifies the cost to wildlife?”
“Global warming’s a bigger threat to ocean life than any wind farm.” Marut’s abruptness suggested annoyance.
Smug satisfaction warmed her, though she recognized that reaction as childish. As a scientist, she was well aware that the tradeoffs and issues were complex. There was no simple answer to the problems facing humanity. Somehow, though, she couldn’t stop herself from baiting him.
“That’s a research question, I think.”
“Look.” He flashed a conciliatory smile that lit up his strong, even features. “Let’s call a truce. My company is in the preliminary stages of design, just studying feasibility and cost-effectiveness for different locations. The installation might turn out to be totally impractical.” “I certainly hope so.”
Aboutthe Author
Lisabet Sarai became addicted to words at an early age. She began reading when she was four. She wrote her first story at five years old and her first poem at seven. Since then, she has written plays, tutorials, scholarly articles, marketing brochures, software specifications, self-help books, press releases, a five-hundred page dissertation, and lots of erotica and erotic romance – over one hundred titles, and counting, in nearly every sub-genre—paranormal, scifi, ménage, BDSM, GLBT, and more. Regardless of the genre, every one of her stories illustrates her motto: Imagination is the ultimate aphrodisiac.
Casey Turner could rope and ride like any man, and she scandalized folks by wearing boys’ clothes, but when she strode down the streets of Hark Luck, Texas, nobody took her for anything but a beautiful woman. Working alongside her pa to keep the bank from foreclosing on the Bar T, she had no time for the frivolous things of life, no time for romance. But all that was about to change…
Michael Donovan had had a burr under his saddle about Casey for years. Ever since she caught him skinny-dipping and stole his clothes, making him the laughingstock of the whole Circle D. The last thing he wanted was to be forced into marrying her, but it looked like he had no choice if he wanted to safeguard the future of the Donovan ranch. Their families had been bitter enemies for years, but now his parents were urging Michael to court Casey, to treat her like a lady. He’d do his darndest, but he could never let on that underneath her pretty new dresses Casey was as wild as ever, and in his arms she was positively…BRAZEN.
Excerpt:
It was a hot late-August afternoon. Young Casey Turner had been out working with some hands from her family’s ranch, checking for strays since early morning. She’d ridden away from the men to look for stock along the river that marked the property line between the Bar T and the Donovan ranch, the Circle D.
Casey was hot and tired, and the water looking mighty inviting, but she couldn’t allow herself the luxury of taking a break. Times were hard on the Bar T. Money was tight. She had work to do. When she heard splashing around the bend just up ahead, she expected to find cattle. She rode quietly closer, not wanting to spook the strays.
Then she rounded the bend.
Casey’s eyes widened in shock and amazement at the scene before her, and she quickly reined in.
There, standing in the waist-deep water with his back to her, was none other than the Donovans’ son Michael, and he was—as best she could tell—skinny-dipping.
Michael hadn’t heard her approach, and she was glad. She’d never seen a naked man before. As embarrassed as she was curious, she took her time looking him over. His shoulders were broad and strongly muscled, and his waist was lean. Casey was grateful he was staying put, though, for she’d seen all of Michael Donovan she wanted to see.
Then she had a thought… The Donovans and the Turners had been feuding for years, and suddenly Casey realized this was the perfect time to take a little revenge on Michael.
The thought of getting even with him made Casey smile. The last time she’d seen him in town, he’d made fun of the way she was dressed. She hadn’t wanted to admit it at the time, but his comments had hurt her. Arrogant and rich Donovan that he was, he deserved what he was about to get as a payback for being so mean.
She smiled. Michael was unaware of her presence. She looked around to make sure he was alone. Her grin broadened when she saw his horse tied up nearby and his clothes hanging over a low tree limb. True, the clothes were on the Donovan side of the river, but that wasn’t going to stop her today…
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
After working as a department manager for Famous-Barr, and briefly as a clerk at a bookstore, Bobbi gave up on career security and began writing. She sold her first book to Zebra in 1982.
Since then, Bobbi has written over 40 books and 6 novellas. To date, there are more than five million copies of her novels in print. She has been awarded the prestigious Romantic Times Storyteller Award and two Career Achievement Awards. Her books have appeared on the New York Times Best Seller List, the USA Today Best Seller List and the Wal-Mart Best Seller List.
The rights to Ms. Smith’s books have been sold to China, France, Germany, India, Israel, Russia and Sweden. Bobbi has also written two faith-based contemporary novels – Haven and Miracles – using the pseudonym Julie Marshall.
Bobbismithauthor.com
GIVEAWAY INFORMATION and RAFFLECOPTER CODE
Bobbi Smith will be awarding $10 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.
Enter to win a $10 Amazon/BN GC – Rafflecopter giveaway
*The planet Falosia has an excess of females. The planet Verit has a surplus of males. The best of each have been put forward to start a new colony and find mates, in a last desperate attempt to save both worlds. A scorchingly hot sci fi, alien romance. *
Denara barely survived her disastrous first attempt at marriage; for years she threw herself into her research, giving herself time to heal. When the opportunity arises to take up a position on the colony, she decides to take a risk for the chance to live, and love, again. Lucius has spent his life under the heel of the ruthless Matriarchs of Verit. Tasked with leading the males of the new colony, he reluctantly accepts the assignment. The last thing he wants is to tie himself to a scheming female through mating, but nothing could have prepared him for meeting Denara. Sparks fly, but can they overcome their pasts to find love? With the political machinations of two planets vying for control over the colony, perhaps together, they can bridge the gap between their worlds.
What to expect: Glorious world building, spicy alien romance, friends to lovers, enthusiastic consent. Recommended 18+ due to sexual content.
Excerpt:
“I am a First Warrior.” He stroked his animal fur, which she had successfully avoided looking at until now and pointed out a series of gleaming metal pins and buttons along the edge. “Each of these represents a successful campaign.”
Denara shuddered and turned back to the medicine cabinet, trying not to regard the dead animal. Lucius was moving before he was consciously aware of it. “Why do you do that?”
Suddenly he was very close; she could feel the heat radiating from him. He had moved so fast and silently that she had not heard him move. She spun around, backing up into the medication shelving, knocking several boxes to the floor. “Do what?” she stammered.
“Shudder and turn away? What displeases you so? I saw you do the same thing when you regarded me at the introduction social event.”
He was very, very close. She could sense his energy. It was distinctly feline – curiosity with a contained violence and ruthless intelligence. It was highly unusual, and nothing in all her years of experience had prepared her for the closeness of such a male. He seemed to suck up all the air in the room.
“Oh… it’s nothing.” He regarded her, his eyes deepening from their usual pale blue to a dark navy. She was transfixed at the sight. “Why do your eyes do that? Is it an evolutionary adaption? Or a deliberate genetic alteration?”
“Deliberate alteration. It allows us to see minute biochemical and heat changes, a useful enhancement for a warrior. It also allows me to see when you lie. I saw your displeasure at the first meet yesterday as well.” He cocked his head at her, studying her reactions, attempting to determine the source of her distress. The dark stranger within him was demanding that he find the source of the problem, kill it for her and lay it at her feet in tribute. “Something displeases you, Healer. Inform me of it, my lady, and I will remedy it immediately.”
“Could you, could you back up a bit please?” she gasped out, and he took two measured steps back, to place himself against the opposite wall, as far away as he could get in the small space.
“My apologies, I did not mean to frighten you. I observed you standing close to Odran yesterday and assumed it was acceptable in your culture. I would never touch you without your permission.” She detected a faint thread of hurt in his emotional resonance. “Or perhaps it is me you don’t wish to stand so close to.” He nodded, thoughtfully, examining her reactions in his mind. “Yes, that is it. It is I that distresses you. I shall remedy this by removing my presence.”
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Rose Mackie (she/her) is an Australian author who writes and loves sci-fi romance, paranormal romance and fantasy romance. Born in Scotland and living in Perth, Western Australia for the past 15 years, Rose loves nothing more than to hang out with her family and rescue cat, and create magical worlds of imagination.
All Rose Mackie books have an element of spice, kick-ass heroines, enthusiastic consent and happy endings. Rose has been writing for as long as she can remember, but has recently published her first book, Heart Fire. It still spins her out that people are reading the weird stories she makes up in her head!
Rose has fallen in love with writing, and loves seeing audiences connect with her work and characters, and hopes you’ll love them too!
*Nancy Fraser will be awarding a $20 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.*
Blurb:
The last place Andrew (Drew) Morgan wants to be is back on the family avocado farm in Plentiful. If he had his way, he’d still be active military and deployed someplace far, far away. Unfortunately, he rarely gets what he wants. And, being back in the orchard is just the latest in a long list of disappointments.
Single mother, Chloe Taylor has relocated from Fresno to the rural area of Plentiful, California to build her marketing business beginning with the local agriculture co-op. It’s her job to convince the local farms to invest in a major overhaul of the co-op’s publicity campaign. A mixture of modern operations, and older, family-owned farms, only adds to her frustration.
At the moment, her biggest challenge is bringing the owner of Plenty Good Farms in line with the others. The fact that the old curmudgeon of an owner, Samuel Morgan, has brought his nephew in to run things gives her hope. Surely, the younger Morgan will be more amenable to her progressive ideas.
When Chloe first presents her plan the Morgan men, it’s Drew who throws a monkey wrench into his uncle’s agreement to sign the necessary contract. What she doesn’t realize is that Drew’s reluctance has more to do with his uncle’s health issues, and the possibility that he won’t be able to talk the man who raised him into retiring.
When Drew is forced by the military medical team into choosing between a desk job or retirement, he shares his frustrations with Chloe and she helps him find a new purpose outside of being a full-time farmer. It also helps that their attraction is growing. Drew has definitely fallen for the independent woman, and her adorable daughter.
Will Chloe’s faith and determination help her lead Drew through his difficult decisions and bring them what they both need… a love that transcends their everyday challenges.
Drew Morgan pulled his muddy four-wheeler to a stop on the side of the road just short of the driveway leading to Plenty Good Farms. The last place he wanted to be, but where he was needed most. After nearly twelve years of active military service, he understood duty. Responsibility.
It wasn’t like the military was giving him an assignment any time soon. If ever.
He killed the engine, slid from behind the wheel, and walked around for a few minutes, working the kinks out of his bum leg and stretching his back. It wouldn’t do to arrive on his uncle’s porch with a limp.
The stubborn old coot would likely brand him injured and useless, and continue to insist he could manage on his own.
Drew knew better. Thanks to a letter from Doc Taylor, he’d been apprised of Sam’s failing health. As badly as Drew wanted to stay close to Fort Hood in hopes of haranguing them into letting him go back to work, he couldn’t very well desert the man who’d raised him from the age of ten.
C’mon, Andrew, grow a pair!
His uncle’s familiar admonishment echoed in Drew’s ears. Samuel Morgan was—if nothing else—an opinionated and cranky curmudgeon who liked nothing better than to goad people into doing what he wanted them to do.
Still, Drew loved the set-in-his-ways old man with all his heart. So much so, he’d accepted his mandatory three-month medical leave without so much as an argument. Then, he’d set out on the eighteen-hour drive from the base to the farming town of Plentiful, California in order to check on Sam for himself.
No sense putting off the inevitable any longer. Drew hopped back into the car and turned up the long, winding driveway. Parking at the rear of the century-old farmhouse, Drew took the steps two at a time, the reward for his exuberance a shooting pain that ran from behind his knee cap, up the back of his thigh, and ended in his hip. With the pain came the flash of memory he couldn’t quite escape, the loud explosion of an IED, flames shooting into the air, jagged shards of shrapnel flying everywhere.
He stopped at the door and sucked in a breath before turning the knob and stepping into the warm and welcoming kitchen.
“About time you got here, Andrew,” Sam groused from his seat at the table. He cradled an all-too-familiar cup of coffee in his sun-tanned grasp.
The first thing Drew noticed was the way Sam’s hands trembled where he held the ceramic mug. “The road was wet,” Drew countered. “I couldn’t go top speed all the way.”
Sam’s faded gray gaze narrowed in his direction. “No doubt you’ve lost all the driving skills I taught you as a teenager.”
“After maneuvering caravans of military vehicles for a dozen years, handling a lightweight four-wheel drive takes a bit of practice.”
“Yeah, well, you’re home now. You’ll catch on once you’re back on the tractor and pulling a wagon load of fresh-picked ‘cados.”
She’s also the granddaughter of a Methodist minister known for his fire-and-brimstone approach to his faith. Nancy has brought some of his spirit into her Christian romances. And, her own off-beat sense of humor to her clean & wholesome books.
When not writing (which is almost never), Nancy dotes on her five wonderful grandchildren and looks forward to traveling and reading when time permits. Nancy lives in Atlantic Canada where she enjoys the relaxed pace and colorful people.
Four years ago, I made one mistake, and she left. I couldn’t convince her to stay no matter how much I loved her. Still love her. But one day she turns up at my door asking for my protection. A rival family is threatening her life and the business she busted her ass for. No matter what unresolved issues lie between us, the heartache I’ve carried, or the dreams I wish were reality, I won’t let anyone threaten her or the family I had always wanted to be mine. I will always protect her. But I am more than just a temporary bodyguard. I have a second chance to show her my love is worth fighting for, and I will claim her completely. With this new chance, she can’t escape the inevitable.
René
Asking Nico for help is the last thing I want to do. After breaking up with him four years ago, I am not ready to be reminded of all the reasons I fell in love with him, to begin with. Avoiding him becomes impossible when he is still the only man I trust to protect me and my family from a rival mafia boss intent on ruining our lives. His every touch reignites my passions. Though I fight it, and will never admit it, my feelings for my ex had never died. As the heat between us flames to new heights, he tempts me with the possibility of a second chance at love.
Please Note: Both Inescapable and Inevitable can be read as standalone novels in the expanding Oliveri Mafia series
“You’ve got this,” René told herself. She straightened her posture, and faced the door she had walked out of three years ago with no intention of ever returning. “It’s not like I am crawling back. If it weren’t for Onika I wouldn’t even be here right now.”
Although René was a first-generation American and had lived in the states her entire life, her family was big, loud, close, and international. With her childhood summer vacations spent in Jamaica, she and Onika, who had only moved to Felicidad two years ago, might as well have been twins. They spend almost every day of their breaks together.
Two years ago, René had offered to help Onika get settled, but her stubborn-ass cousin rejected her offer. Now René was a target with few options.
It was too late to lament her current circumstances, her business was at stake.
Okay, her life and Onika’s were also at stake which technically was more important.
But damn, René had worked her ass off to become a hairstylist whose growing popularity resulted in two successful salons. She’d spent years renting chairs in other people’s salons while doing hair in her parents’ extension. Nights, weekends, and friendships were sacrificed on the altar of her dream. Finally, success had started trickling into her life. And now there was a threat to everything she had poured her soul into building, not to mention her life.
She wanted to curse Onika’s name, but Onika was only part of the equation. Who knew her friendship with Jessie would one day up the stakes to her dilemma?
There she went, hyping herself up when she needed a calm head to deal with that man behind the door. If anyone had gotten her wrapped up in drama she would have bet the bank on him—Nico Donini.
All this time she had avoided his name. In her mind, he was an abstract idea. Because thinking his name brought inevitable memories. Not the rip your heart out memories but the warm, cuddle sessions that plagued her after she’d ended things. They whispered to her of the what-ifs she could never voice.
Desperation had driven her here but it didn’t cancel out Nico as her wisest choice. Who was she fooling? She was not ready to face Nico. She spun to her car once again.
Before her first full step, the voice still haunting her dreams said, “Running again? You haven’t changed, have you?”
Author Bio
Melverna McFarlane loves stories with Happily Ever Afters. After years of characters taunting her imagination with their potential, she decided it was time to write her own scorching hot romances. She moved to America from Jamaica at a young age, and has lived up and down the east coast most of her life. The bitterly cold winter of 2013 was the last straw, driving her back to island life—this time to Hawaii. When not writing, she is reading romance, YA, and Fantasy, country hopping, or vicariously obsessing over other people’s cats (she awaits the day her landlords succumb to the truth: feline domination should be everyone’s goal in life).
Award-winning freelance journalist Javacia Harris Bowser is convinced that writing is a superpower. She sees her life as proof of it since writing has helped her navigate marriage, crisis of faith and body image issues. It also helped her to beat cancer.
As a Black woman from the South, Javacia has used the written word to explore issues of gender and race as well as religion. Find Your Way Back is a collection of essays that demonstrate how Javacia has used writing to achieve some of her wildest dreams such as being a public speaker, having her own column, and being her own boss. The book also explores how writing, self-love, and faith helped her overcome her worst nightmare: a cancer diagnosis in 2020. Javacia’s goal is to show readers how writing can transform their lives as well. The book includes prompts throughout to help readers start their own writing journey.
This book is for the woman who has wanted to write since she was a girl but struggles to find the time or the courage to put her words on paper. Find Your Way Back, shows that instead of putting writing on the back burner when life gets turned upside down, we should turn to it to help life make sense again.
AUTHOR Bio and Links:
Javacia Harris Bowser is an award-winning essayist and journalist and the founder of See Jane Write. A proud graduate of the journalism programs at the University of Alabama and the University of California at Berkeley, Javacia has written for USA Today, HerMoney.com, and Good Grit magazine. Named one of Birmingham’s Top 40 Under 40, she believes we can all write our way to the life of our dreams.
On my eleventh birthday, I declared I was a woman. I have no idea why. My budding boobs barely filled my training bra, and I wouldn’t get my period for another year. But it was as if turning eleven declared I was number one and said it again for good measure, and I believed it.
I can’t recall exactly what I decided to wear on this special day, but I do remember slouch socks were involved. I also remember that I didn’t want a party because birthday parties were for children. A woman–especially one who at the time fancied herself a poet–should spend her birthday having a quiet evening at home writing in her journal, reflecting on her past, and making plans for the years to come.
What I’m trying to say is eleven-year-old me was ridiculous. But I think about this girl often. Sometimes to become the woman you’re meant to be, you must remember the girl you used to be. Sometimes you must write like a girl.
When you write for a living, it can be hard to remember how to do this. When you write for a living, you can easily forget to write for yourself. You can forget to write simply for the love of words, for the joy of stringing together sentences. It can be hard to remember what it felt like to write with no regard for readers or a deadline, but that’s what writing like a girl is all about.
Sometimes I think back to that eleven-year-old girl–who thought she was a woman–and I challenge myself–just for a few moments–to forget about building a brand or pitching publications and just write. Yes, I can get back to business later, but right now, just write.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
GIVEAWAYINFO
The Literary Lobbyist will be awarding one $25 and one $50 Amazon or B/N GC to randomly drawn winners via Rafflecopter during the tour. To Enter click on the link below:
Title: You Can’t Hurry Love ASIN: B09S35VNTL Release Date: ebook: March 24, 2022, print: March 6, 2022 Rating: Explicit/Mature Audiences Only
Blurb: Sometimes love is worth the wait.
Sara Carlisle and Charlie Rhodes are complete opposites. Oil and water. Chalk and cheese.
Before Sara even meets Charlie, she hates him. He’s insulted her best friend -a woman Sara considers family- and that is unforgivable. In person he proves to be just as obnoxious and insufferable as she’d anticipated. And, as far as she’s concerned, the fact that he’s tall and muscular with an accent to die for is not enough to redeem him. Charlie Rhodes is an arrogant A–hole (with a capital A!) and that’s all there is to it!
For his part, Charlie thinks Sara is a conceited pain in the arse. A prissy princess to the nth degree. It becomes his prerogative to get under her skin for the sheer pleasure of riling her up. He feels genuine enjoyment in the face of her frustration, and he makes no secret of it. Besides, she gives as good as she gets!
Fundamentally opposed in every way, it’s obvious to those around them that they’re not going to get along.
But unfortunately, thanks to their respective families, they are stuck in each other’s lives for the foreseeable future. Being civil is as good as it is going to get…or is it?
When their relationship turns from reluctant acquaintances to red hot lovers, they find it’s good.
Really good.
What could possibly go wrong?
In a slow-burn romance that follows hot on the heels of Handle With Care*, Sara and Charlie discover that you really can’t rush romance.
*Both Handle With Care and You Can’t Hurry Love can be read as standalone novels in the expanding Jukebox Collection series.
Prices (in USD): Print: $9.99 E-Book: $2.99 (and enrolled in Kindle Unlimited) Length: 240 Pages
Author Bio: Anita (A.N.) Verebes is a daydreamer and romance novelist. As a civil marriage celebrant, Anita makes a living telling other people’s love stories and celebrating real romance! Also armed with a Bachelor of Education (Secondary), Anita is a qualified -but not practicing- High School English teacher who loves to read anything she can get her hands on, including fanfiction. (And, yes, she’s written her fair share of that, too.) Living directly between Queensland’s sunny Gold and Sunshine coasts, Anita spends her days exploring the Great South East with her husband and their two rambunctious sons. When at home, she’s also a slave to two cats and one very spoilt Great Dane X.
As promised here’s an excerpt from Lisabet Sarai’s Exposure, which was recently featured on my blog. *Rated R*
My next stop is the Fourth Precinct police station. It’s not in my neighborhood, and it’s not near the Hyatt, but I know someone there. I limp in, trying to look dignified, and ask for Detective James Ostermann. The huge grin that lights up his face when he sees me makes me feel better than I have all day.
“Stella! What a treat!” He pumps my hand with boyish enthusiasm. “What have I done to deserve this honor?”
Jimmy and I went to school together. There’s always been some kind of sexual tension between us, though we never did anything about it. He was one of the few guys who respected me, who didn’t try to get into my pants. Last time I saw him, at our fifth reunion, he had just been promoted from beat cop to detective. Then just six months ago I read an article in the paper about him heading up a new task force against organized crime. That’s how I knew where to find him.
“Hello, Jimmy.” I return his smile. “I wish I could tell you that this was just a social call, but in fact I’ve got something pretty serious to discuss with you. Can we talk in private?”
“Always a pleasure,” he teases, but his face takes on a professional expression as he leads me into his office. “Bill, would you mind taking a walk?” he asks his partner, a hefty black man that I haven’t met before.
“Sure, Jim, no problem. Give a yell if you need me.”
Jimmy closes the door and seats himself behind his desk. I sit across from my old friend. There’s a newspaper on the surface between us, the headlines screaming about the double gangland murder that claimed the mayoral candidate and his aide. Jimmy notices my glance.
“Hear about what happened to Tony Pinelli?”
I nod and swallow my nervousness. “Yeah. I was there.”
“What?”
“That’s right. There at the Hyatt, Room 422, last night around eight forty-five.”
He looks grim as I relate my tale. Shakes his head when I describe Mr. Clean’s attack and Tony’s reaction. I don’t tell him my theory, though, about me being the target. I’ve got no evidence, and anyway, this morning it seems kind of crazy.
“So you didn’t see anyone else, other than Pinelli and Henderson?”
“No—though I guess there might have been somebody else in the bedroom of the suite. It had a separate door out to the hall.”
“How long after the shooting was it that you checked the bedroom?”
“I’m not sure. I was kind of in shock. Five minutes. Maybe ten.”
“Was the dead bolt on that bedroom door thrown?”
“I didn’t notice. I don’t know. I could hardly think straight.”
“And the corridor was empty when you left?”
“I think so. I was in a hurry to get out.”
My voice stays calm through my original story, but now, being grilled, I’m trembling. His questions bring it all back, all the fear and the blood.
“Did you go out the front door of the hotel?”
“Yeah.”
“And how’d you get home?”
“I took a cab…” My voice is shaking. “Look, this is really hard for me. I’ve told you what I know. If I think of any other details, I’ll call you.”
Jimmy looks up from his notepad. He suddenly sees how upset I am.
“Jeez, I’m sorry, Stella. Just doing my job. I get carried away.”
“That’s okay. It’s just—I really don’t like to think about it.”
Jimmy comes around to my side of the desk. “I’m so sorry. God, Stella, it must have been horrible.” He gives me a brotherly hug.
His strength feels wonderful. I relax a little and let him soothe me.
He strokes my hair back from my face, murmuring nonsense into my ear. “Poor girl, I’m so glad that you came to me. I’m sorry to be such a dolt. If there’s anything I can do…” Nothing has changed, but for a moment it seems as though the weight of the world has been lifted from my shoulders.
Then I notice two things. First, his arm is around me and his fingers are brushing against the side of my breast. It’s casual, almost unconscious, but my nipples contract and throb in response. Second, there’s a hard protrusion pressed against my thigh, conflicting with the supposedly innocent nature of this embrace.
I’m tempted to give in and accept more intimate comfort, but I have a feeling that would be a mistake, at least right now. Gently, I push him away, glancing down at his tented trousers as I do so. A blush creeps over his blunt features.
“Thanks for your support, Jimmy. The main thing that you can do for me is to keep me out of this as much as possible. Keep it quiet. If Joey from the Peacock found out, he might not be too crazy about having me work there.”
“There’ll be an investigation. There might be a trial. Will you testify?”
“If I have to. But I hope that it won’t be necessary.”
“I’ll do what I can, Stella.” He notes my limp as I stand up to leave, and grabs my hand. “Hey, are you hurt?”
“I’ll be okay, Jimmy. Hazards of the profession.” He doesn’t let go of my hand, and I see that his erection has not subsided. I melt a bit at the sight. “Thanks for everything.”
“Thank you, for coming out about this. You’ve made things a lot easier for us.”
There’s an awkward silence. He’s squeezing my fingers, hard, but I don’t think he realizes it.
“You look fantastic, Stella.”
“Thanks, Jim…”
“Maybe we could get together some night, for dinner, or something? Catch up? Or talk about old times? I feel bad that we haven’t kept in closer touch.”
I pull my hand away. Simultaneously, I lean over and kiss him lightly on the cheek. “Maybe. You could always come by the Peacock and catch my show.” He blushes again, mottled crimson. “Or maybe I can arrange a special performance.”
“Stella!”
“Just teasing, Jimmy! I’ll see you around.”
I hobble out of his office, knowing that he’s watching my hips roll beneath my skirt. Sweet Jimmy.
A Stolen Heart
Yolanda.Ashton 