Live, Laugh, Frogs

Book Tour Featuring The Dead Certain Doubt by Jim Nesbitt @partnersincr1me #giveaway

2023-04-07T08:59:00.001-04:00

Book Tour Featuring *The Dead Certain Doubt* by Jim Nesbitt @partnersincr1me #giveaway: The Dead Certain Doubt: An Ed Earl Burch Novel by Jim Nesbitt March 13 – April 7, 2023 Virtual Book Tour Synopsis: Revenge, Guilt, Redemption & Gunsmoke When Doubt Is Your Only Friend Ed …

Book review of ⭐Blind Sympathy⭐by Roberta Bombonato @AuthorBombonato #blindsympathy #paranormalangelromance

2019-10-22T07:48:00.003-04:00

Blind Sympathy by Roberta B. Bombonato

Sypnosis

Vafara is a blind composer who creates new symphonies for the world. Alone in a cabin with only her service dog, she's not concerned in the slightest for zero cell phone reception in a secluded in the woods. This is her special time where she can be free to let her musical compositions speak to her.
Israfel is a demon one assignment short from graduation: possession of an innocent soul. He's always know he was different from others of his kind, and meeting the pure Vafara confirmed it.
Will he be able to possess the passionate musician when all he wants to do is hold her? Or will he throw it all away and risk an Angels and Demons war to save her innocent soul from the dark fate that awaits?

_______________________

About The Author

Roberta Bombonato has been hearing characters in her head since she was born, but only began writing down their stories since 2007. They can be a rowdy bunch and only leave her alone when the book is finished. She calls herself a basket-case, weaving stories with twisted pain and unconditional love.

Born in Sao Paulo, Brazil, Roberta moved to the United States at the age of 11 and became a U.S. Citizen. She currently resides in fabulous, sunny Florida with her disabled veteran husband, two loving dogs, Kent and Pup, one eccentric parrot, Apollo, and two Guinea pids to keep him company.

In 2009, she released her first book AN UNCONVENTIONAL FAMILY. It received an honorable mention is the 2009’s Hollywood Book Festival in the Wild Card category.

Aug 28th of 2019, she released her second book BLIND SYMPATHY.

There was a period of 10 years in which she was plagued with writer’s block. The Ketogenic diet has helped her get back in the game, stronger than ever. She even became a certified Keto and Fasting Coach through Dr. Berg. She helps clients lose weight and feel great, like she does. She documents her weight-loss journey on Instagram @nerdyketonian. Click here for more info.

Redemption is a common theme in her extremely different stories. There is something so beautiful about a very LARGE character arch. Triggers evoke such emotion and her characters find a way of concealing the hurt because vulnerability is weakness. The power lies in change.

Roberta vows to keep writing her character’s stories even if they don’t follow the regular formulas of the writing world. She believes that in order to do them justice, they will not be put inside a conventional box. This is where pushing the envelope will result in unpredictability.

Connect With Roberta:
Website | Facebook | Pinterest | Instagram

_______________________

My rating: 5 of 5 stars

I have not read anything by Roberta Bombonato, so this book for me was a new adventure with an author who has such an awesome imagination and talent for writing a story you can actually get carried away in (if you get my drift). For me, I believe Roberta has the writing style to make her stories unique and believable, which I enjoy immensely. Blind Sympathy was a fascinating story in my opinion as another reviewer mentioned a true “Beauty and the Beast" story. If you enjoy the paranormal genre, you will love this book.

I received this book from the author in exchange for an honest review, thank you, Roberta. In addition, my actual star count is above five stars for the talent and imagination of the author. ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

View all my reviews

Featuring Dread Pirate Arcanist by Shami Stovall @GameOverStation @pumpupyourbooks

2019-10-22T07:47:00.002-04:00

DREAD PIRATE ARCANIST
Shami Stovall
* YA Fantasy *

Title: DREAD PIRATE ARCANIST
Author: Shami Stovall
Publisher: Capital Station Books
Pages: #437
Genre: YA Fantasy

While protecting the newborn griffins on the Isle of Landin, Volke Savan and his adopted sister, Illia, run afoul of the Dread Pirate Calisto, the same cutthroat who carved out Illia’s right eye. As a master manticore arcanist, Calisto’s strength and brutality are unrivaled. When Illia suggests they bring him to justice, Volke wonders if they’ll have what it takes to fight the corsairs on the high seas.

A fast-paced flintlock fantasy for those who enjoy How to Train Your Dragon by Cressida Cowell, Unsouled (Cradle Series) by Will Wight, and Percy Jackson and the Olympians by Rick Riordan.

Praise for the Frith Chronicles!

“Perfect for those who enjoy the Codex Alera series, the Homas Wildus series, and the Harry Potter series. Stovall is quickly becoming a name I look for.”
– Seattle Book Review

“An addictive series. Shami Stovall has produced a mesmerizing story of magic, intrigue, and true adventure.”
– ManyBooks

“Absolutely brilliant.”
– Archaeolibrarian

Now continue the Frith Chronicles with the second book, Dread Pirate Arcanist!

★Amazon —-> https://www.amazon.com/dp/B07WK2H37L

______________________

CHAPTER
ONE

THE DAY OF
PHOENIXES



            I outlined a fresh grave for the cemetery as bells rang
from the isle’s tower, signifying the start of the celebrations. The soil
reeked of ammonia and rot, but the crisp morning breeze washed the scent away,
dispersing it over the ocean. I removed my shirt, allowing the wind to cool me
while I worked. 

            Every ten years, the people on the Isle of Ruma gathered
to watch the fledgling phoenixes bond with a few chosen mortals. Lamplighters
did their duty despite the glorious sunshine, each lamp’s fire representing the
flames of phoenixes. Merchants cleared their horses and carts from the main
road in anticipation of the crowds. 

This
was my second Day of Phoenixes. A decade ago, on my fifth birthday, I missed
the bonding ceremony to attend my father’s trial. He was convicted of murder,
but because he hadn’t been born on the island, he was taken to the mainland for
final judgement. That was the last time I saw him. 

            Although the last Day of Phoenixes had been inauspicious,
I intended to change that. Once I had finished digging a shallow grave, I would
make my way into town.

I
slammed the shovel’s head into the dirt and scooped deep. The cemetery sat near
the edge of the island, far from those gathering to observe the hopeful
students trying to win the favor of the phoenixes. 

            Tradition stated that anyone who handled sewage, waste,
and dead bodies wasn’t allowed to attend the bonding ceremony, which was just
my luck. After my father was sent away, I could’ve been given to any profession
for apprenticeship. I could’ve gone to the carpenter and learned the craft of
woodworking, or I could’ve gone to the silversmith and learned the art of fine
metal work, but misfortune hounded me like a shadow. I was given to the
gravekeeper, slated to dig corpse-holes until the end of time, forever exiled
from the festivities.

            I still intended to go. Even if it meant ignoring the
traditions of the isle—something unheard of on our tiny spit of land—no one
could stop me from proving myself to a phoenix. No one.

I
scooped another mound of dirt and tossed it to the side.

            “You look deep in thought, Volke,” my fellow corpse-hole
apprentice, Illia, said. “What’re you planning?”

            “I’m waiting for the trials to begin.”

            “And then what?”

            “You’ll see.”

            Illia sat in the shade of a cypress tree, her legs
crossed and her chin in both hands. Most people hated the thought of sitting on
graves, since it was supposed to bring bad luck, but Illia wasn’t like most
people. She leaned back on a headstone and exhaled as the ocean wind rushed by,
catching her wavy brown hair and revealing the scars on the side of her face.

            She held a hand over the marks, like she always did. The
moment the wind died down, she pulled some of her hair around to cover her
scars, hiding the old knife wounds that had taken her right eye.

            I finished one half of the grave and huffed.

            Illia and I lived in a tiny cottage on the edge of the
cemetery, apprenticed to Ruma’s sole gravekeeper. We both held the glorious title
of gravedigger. Like me, she had no
family. Well, we had each other, and Gravekeeper William, but he hardly
counted. 

            For ten years, Illia and I had considered ourselves
brother and sister, and siblings always know each other’s mood. Illia displayed
all the telltale signs of irritation—narrowed eye, rarely blinking, her mouth
turned down in a slight frown. She hated the fact I was keeping secrets from
her. If I didn’t explain myself quick, she’d exact her revenge. 

            “I don’t want to become the next gravekeeper,” I said as
I threw a mound of dirt off to the side. 

            With an eyebrow sarcastically raised, Illia asked, “So
you’re going to impress a phoenix and leave this place, is that it?” 

            “That’s right.”

            “Only two phoenixes were born this year,” she said,
wagging her finger. “And the schoolmaster has already picked his two favored
disciples to win the right to bond. No one wants you to take a phoenix from
either of those try-hards.”

            “I don’t care.” I scooped out another clump of dirt, my
grip on the shovel so tight it hurt. “Bonding with a phoenix is too important.
Besides, no one on this isle likes me anyway. Why should I start caring about
their opinions now?”

            “Hmph. I should’ve known you’d say that.”

            Of course. Anyone who bonded with a mystical creature,
like a phoenix, became an arcanist—a
powerful wielder of sorcery, capable of great magic based on the creature they
bonded to.

            Arcanists were the pinnacle of society, the most
influential people, and revered by everyone. Some arcanists could control the
weather, or devastate armies, or make the land fertile. Even the weakest and
laziest of arcanists were well-thought-of and important members of powerful
guilds, shepherding humanity to greatness with a mere flick of their wrists. 

            What I wouldn’t give to become an arcanist. They were
things of legend. 

            More significant than a gravedigger, anyway. 

            “You’re not the only one with plans today,” Illia said.
She waited a minute before adding, “Aren’t you going to ask me what I’ll be
doing during the bonding ceremony?” 

            I shoveled another chunk of dirt, taking some weeds with
it. “All right. Tell me. What will you be doing?”

            “It’s a secret.” 

            She stood and brushed herself off with a few gentle pats
to her dress. Then she crossed her arms and stared at me, no doubt waiting for
me to pester her about the secret just so she could say, see how annoying it is when you do it? 

            “I’m sure you’ll have fun doing whatever it is you have
planned,” I said with a shrug.

            “You’re not the only one who wants to become an arcanist,
Volke,” she replied, saying my name
as though it were venom. “But there might be easier ways than embarrassing
yourself in front of everyone.”

            I finished carving the outline of the grave, determined
not to be sucked into asking her what she meant. I had too many things on my
mind to get into an argument. Besides, I knew she was right. It was irksome
being excluded from secrets, especially by family. But I didn’t want to run the
risk of her trying to dissuade me.

            Another round of bells sounded in the distance. I threw
my shovel to the side and turned toward the cemetery cottage. “I have to go.
Whatever you do, don’t get into trouble.”

            Illia replied with a smile. “Never.”

            Something about her sarcastic tone told me she had
trouble planned, but there wasn’t any time to go into it. I jogged into the
cottage, ran up the rickety stairs, and then dashed straight into my room. It
was technically a storage closet that Gravekeeper William had converted into a
sleeping space so that Illia and I wouldn’t have to share the second bedroom. 

            The cramped room fit my cot, a chair, and a trunk for my
clothes. That was it. 

            I squeezed myself in, ripped off my dirty trousers, and
then dressed in a clean white shirt and black pants. Although I owned nothing
fancy—everything in my trunk had been Gravekeeper William’s at some point—I
still wanted to make an effort. The phoenixes bonded with individuals they
liked the most after the Trials of Worth were over. I needed to impress them,
and I couldn’t do that with grave dirt on my clothes.

            Once dressed, I combed my disheveled hair, even though it
never cooperated. For some reason, it always puffed out and tangled at the
ends, defying gravity just to make me look foolish. And the blackness of it—an
inky hue taken straight from the midnight hour—wasn’t common on
the isles. Everyone else had red or blond hair, so other kids made fun of me. 

            Coal head. Ink brush. They weren’t clever kids—any
dumber and you’d have to water them twice a week—they were just mean. No one
harassed me after I grew tall, however. Six feet meant I stood out in the
group, and not in a wimpy way. 

            When I finished the last of my brushing, my hair puffed
back out. 

            Satisfied I had made myself halfway presentable, I laced
up my boots and headed downstairs to the kitchen. I grabbed a small canteen of
water and the cleanest rag we owned before rushing out the front door. 

            The vast ocean sparkled in the distance, so blue it put
the sky to shame. The winds brought waves, but nothing strong enough to reach
far inland—just the melody of water lapping across the white sand beaches. 

            With the breeze in my face, I ran down the dirt road
until I came to the cobblestone streets of the city. I pushed my way through
the crowds of people swarming toward the town square. 

            Our small island didn’t have much flatland, so the one
city—creatively named Ruma, like the
island—was the only place to live. The two-story houses were smooshed together,
most with stores downstairs and homes above. Despite the congested living arrangements,
people went out of their way to keep the place lively. Potted flowers, colored
cobblestone for the roads, wrought-iron fences in the shape of fish for the
balconies—Ruma had a special beauty waiting in every nook and cranny.

            The crowds made their way to the Pillar to watch the
bonding trials begin. 

            The Pillar—nothing more than a sheer column of pointed
rock jutting straight up into the sky—was well over one hundred and twenty feet
tall. It could be seen from anywhere on the island, the reddish stone
shimmering in the sunlight. A single tree grew at the top, its branches forever
swaying in the ocean winds, its roots laced over the rock, its fruit rare and
delicious. 

            That sole charberry tree was what had attracted the first
phoenixes to our island centuries ago. The spicy fruit tasted like a chili
pepper, but sweeter and juicier. Phoenixes loved them.

            The base of the Pillar was the starting location for the
Trials of Worth—the tasks given to the wide-eyed hopefuls wanting to prove
their value to the phoenixes. I continued through the crowd, my head tilted
back, my gaze locked on the Pillar. A staircase wrapped around the column of
rock, all the way to the top.

            “Hey,” someone yelled as I shoved my way deeper into the
excited masses. “Isn’t that one of the gravedigger kids?”

            I ignored the remark, sidestepped the slow-moving
families, and nimbly maneuvered through a group of schoolchildren. If I bonded
with a phoenix, I wouldn’t have to stay here anymore and listen to their
whispers. All new arcanists traveled to the mainland to join a guild for
training.

            A third round of bells chimed, and my pulse quickened
with each step. I didn’t want to be late for the trials.

            The whole population of Ruma packed the streets, shoulder
to shoulder. No one missed the Day of Phoenixes unless they were specifically
excluded, like the garbage men. Everyone wore their best attire, children
tossed red flower petals, and the theater troupe wore costumes made of bird
feathers while they pranced around pretending to be phoenixes. It took all of
my willpower not to crane my head to get a better look as I ran by.

            “—and today is a day of glory,” the schoolmaster’s voice
boomed across the town square.

            Schoolmaster Tyms was a naturally loud
individual—Gravekeeper William described him as a regular blowhard in love with his own voice. 

            I slipped between two elderly men and stayed off to the
side, making sure to remain in the shadows cast by the morning sun. Hundreds of
people crowded the center of town, but their gazes never turned in my
direction. They all kept their attention on a wooden stage near the Pillar—a
platform only a few feet off the ground—where Schoolmaster Tyms stood squarely
in the middle, his arms raised. 

            Whenever he glanced in my direction, I ducked. Schoolmaster
Tyms didn’t care for anyone except those who attended his lectures, and he
especially hated those with “unsavory” professions. 

            “I’ve mentored two extraordinary people,” Tyms said.
“Both are talented beyond their years and worthy of a phoenix.”

He
walked to the edge of the stage, lifting his arms even higher, his wrinkled
face pulled back in an unnatural smile. I had seen corpses do a better job at
conveying emotion.

But
I didn’t stare at him for long because on either side of him, perched on ornate
bird stands, were two phoenixes. 

            I stood transfixed, taking in their lustrous scarlet
feathers and golden eyes. They had the build of herons, delicate and sleek, but
every time they moved, soot fell from them and drifted to the ground. Fire
flashed underneath their wings as though their whole bodies were made of flame.
Their tails hung down two feet and twisted a bit at the end, like a peacock.

            They were young, not even a year old, but that was old
enough for them to leave the island. Mystical creatures didn’t reach maturity
unless they were bonded to a person—I was certain they were giddy for the
ceremony as well.

            “We’re honored to be here today,” one phoenix said, her
voice sing-song and brilliant. 

            The other added, “We can’t wait to see our potential partners.”
He lifted his head as he spoke, his voice soft but distinct. 

            I wanted to hold one in my arms and feel the warmth of
their magic coursing through my body, but touching a phoenix was forbidden.
Only once they bonded with a person were they allowed to be handled. 

            The phoenixes tilted their heads as two individuals
walked forward. The two were around my age, fifteen, the age of adulthood. They
wore robes of glistening white, tied at the waist with silver ropes made of
silk. Fancy outfits made on the mainland, betraying their wealth. 

            Tyms motioned to the rich newcomers. “On this Day of the
Phoenixes I’ve selected Zaxis Ren and Atty Trixibelle to take part in the
trials.”

            Of course they
would be picked. Ever since we were kids, they were always favored by the
schoolmaster. 

            I cursed under my breath as Zaxis walked to the base of
the Pillar. 

            He stopped under the metal archway, a century-old
artifact which had been shaped into a phoenix and gilded. The arch signified
the start of the trial. Anyone who passed beneath it would become a
participant. 

            Zaxis smiled at the crowd with the smuggest expression a
human could muster. His red hair shimmered in the sunlight and fluttered about
with the wind. It wasn’t long enough to tie back, and I took a small amount of
pleasure in watching him clumsily pat it down every few seconds, only for a
stray hair to poke him in the eye again. 

            Zaxis’s family, the Ren House, stood at the front of the
crowd, their personal soldiers keeping the “riffraff” a couple feet back. They
cheered for Zaxis and threw flower petals. I had never been cheered for
anything, yet all he did was show up.
Life wasn’t fair sometimes.

            “Thank you,” Zaxis said as he flashed a toothy smile.
“Thank you. Once I’m bonded with a phoenix, I’ll make all of Ruma proud with my
many accomplishments. I’ll become the world’s most renowned arcanist, loved by
all.”

            I balled my hands into fists and gritted my teeth. He
already assumed a phoenix would choose him and
that he would make one of the world’s greatest arcanists? Of course he did—he
wasn’t expecting any competition. 

            Then Atty stepped forward, and the crowds hushed. 

            Unlike Zaxis, whose insufferable attitude knew no bounds,
Atty held herself with regal sophistication. Her long blonde hair, tied in a
neat braid, didn’t twirl in the winds. She held her head high, her slender neck
adorned with a silver necklace depicting a charberry tree. I had always admired
her poise and grace, like a pauper admires a member of royalty, even when I was
young.

            If things had been different—if I wasn’t a
gravedigger—maybe I could’ve courted Atty. No doubt she would be disgusted to
have someone like me approach her now. But once I bonded with a phoenix,
perhaps I’d have the courage. 

            “Thank you, Schoolmaster Tyms,” Atty said, her voice a
sweet relief after a long day’s work. “It’s a privilege to prove myself worthy
of a phoenix. If I become an arcanist, I swear to dedicate myself to becoming a
helpful ruler, one all of Ruma can be proud of.”

            Atty’s family, the Trixibelle House, owned most of the
buildings on the island. They sat on nearby balconies, each of them poised on
chairs and cushions, cheering for Atty, along with everyone else on the island.

            Although I wanted a phoenix for myself, I almost joined in on the clapping. Her
answer was perfect, and when the phoenixes exchanged glances, I knew they
thought the same. 

            No one else stepped forward. 

            While other people could
offer themselves to the phoenixes, it was frowned upon. The schoolmaster knew
best, or so they said—for centuries the keepers of knowledge were deemed the
wisest and most capable of determining who would become the best arcanists. It
was tradition. And for the last few decades, the schoolmaster hadn’t even made
it a competition. He simply chose the exact number of students equal to
phoenixes, ensuring his recommendation carried more weight than gold.

            And the Isle of Ruma knew the importance of picking the
right people to become arcanists. If the competition was open to everyone,
someone with ill intents could gain vast magical power. The schoolmaster was
supposed to weed them out and put forward only the best, most deserving people.
That was why no one else entered the competitions. Following traditions is the way of the isles! Our island’s motto. 

            But even if I was noble of spirit, Atty and Zaxis studied
and trained eight hours a day under the care of Schoolmaster Tyms. Everyone
else, myself included, had work and chores. Atty and Zaxis were lucky. I
wasn’t. How could I ever hope to match their knowledge and skills?

            That didn’t matter, though. I wouldn’t make excuses. The
phoenixes could, in theory, bond with anyone they found worthy. And I would
show them just how worthy I was by passing each of the three trials.

            “Once our hopefuls walk through the archway,” Tyms said,
gesturing to the gold phoenix arch, “they will officially become participants
in the trials. For the first task, each hopeful must walk up all one hundred
and twelve steps of the Pillar to the charberry tree. Then they will pick a fruit
to present to the phoenixes and return down the stairs.”

            Every Day of Phoenixes had the same three trials. The
charberry tree was the first. Only one stairway led to the tree—the spiral
stairway made of stone steps that wrapped around the Pillar. The steps were
hundreds of years old and worn smooth from use. Oh, and no railing, which was
why I never felt safe standing on them, as falling from anything past the tenth
step meant serious injury, possibly death.

            “And with that, you may begin,” Tyms shouted.

            Both Atty and Zaxis bowed to the crowd before turning and
walking through the archway.

            This was it.

            My moment.

            I ran through the crowd, pushing people out of the way
when I needed to, even knocking over a few men of the Ren Family as I dashed
toward the arch. My heart beat so hard I almost didn’t hear people screaming
for me to stop. 

            “Hey!” a woman barked.

            “What’s he doing?” someone else shouted.

            “Stop him!”

            But before anyone could grab me, I raced through the
archway, dashing past Atty and Zaxis. 

            “What do you think you’re doing, Volke?” Zaxis growled.
“Good-for-nothing gravediggers can’t enter the trials!”

            I had my foot on the first step of the Pillar when I
glanced over my shoulder. “I already passed under the archway. That makes me a
participant.”

            “What? That’s not allowed!” Zaxis glanced over his
shoulder. “Right, Master Tyms?”

            Tyms blubbered and flailed his arms. “How dare you,
Volke! You walk back through that archway this instant. You’re disgracing all
of Ruma with your disrespect!”

            I ran up the steps, taking them two at a time despite the
lack of railing. 

            Today I would prove myself to a phoenix. I would prove
myself to all of Ruma.

            I was more than just a gravedigger. 

I
wouldn’t stop. Not now, not ever. 

______________________

Shami Stovall grew up in California’s central valley with a single mother and little brother. Despite no one in her family earning a degree higher than a GED, she put herself through college (earning a BA in History), and then continued on to law school where she obtained her Juris Doctorate.

As a child, Stovall’s favorite novel was Island of the Blue Dolphins by Scott O’Dell. The adventure on a deserted island opened her mind to ideas and realities she had never given thought before—and it was at that moment Stovall realized storytelling (specifically fiction) became her passion. Anything that told a story, be it a movie, book, video game or comic, she had to experience. Now, as a professor and author, Stovall wants to add her voice to the myriad of stories in the world and she hopes you enjoy.

WEBSITE & SOCIAL LINKS:

★Website: https://sastovallauthor.com/
★Blog: https://sastovallauthor.com/blog/
★Twitter: https://twitter.com/GameOverStation
★Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SAStovall/

Lunar Court by Aileen Erin #CoverReveal

2019-04-01T00:00:00.000-04:00

Lunar Court
Aileen Erin
(Alpha Girl #8)
Published by: Ink Monster LLC
Publication date: June 11th 2019
Genres: Paranormal, Young Adult

From USA Today Bestselling Author Aileen Erin
Chris is the guy Cosette always wanted.
Fun. Funny. Lighthearted and sweet. Chris always manages to find beauty and laughter, even when fighting a chapel full of demons. He’s exactly what she needs. Except he’s a werewolf and she’s a member of the Lunar Court — the only fey court that holds sway over the werewolves. Even on his best day, Chris isn’t strong enough to last a few hours in the Lunar Court without becoming a slave. No matter how much Cosette’s heart wants him, she knows she has to let him go.
But when Chris goes missing, Cosette realizes how much she has to lose if the worst happens. Except her mother — the Queen of the Lunar Court — won’t let her go after Chris. Being forced to stay at court is dangerous for Cosette. Assassins keep coming after her, and unless she accepts a mate, it’s only a matter of time before one of them kills her.
Cosette is the girl Chris has always dreamed of.
Chris sees through the tough facade to the girl exhausted from a lifetime of fighting off assassins and court politics. She needs a true friend, someone who she can be herself around, and craves solitude. The same solitude that Chris craves. But he knows he’ll never be enough to survive in her world. So, when Eli — a mysterious archon — requests his help, he figures why not? The guy might be a little shady, but he needs every distraction he can get.
But when Eli says that Cosette’s in trouble, Chris is more than ready to play by Eli’s rules. At least until Eli takes him to the Court of Gales. Chris knows he’s about to play a very dangerous game. Bargaining with the fey is something only a desperate person would do. But what wouldn’t Chris give up to save Cosette’s life?
“These books go by so very quickly, with the pacing making me think I just started reading. I could gobble up a dozen of these novels!” – Carrie Reads a Lot
“Aileen Erin: You did a great job as usual and I’m so excited for Invocation and Lunar Court.” – Lenniland

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Google Play

Author Bio:
Aileen Erin is half-Irish, half-Mexican, and 100% nerd–from Star Wars (prequels don’t count) to Star Trek (TNG FTW), she reads Quenya and some Sindarin, and has a severe fascination with the supernatural. Aileen has a BS in Radio-TV-Film from the University of Texas at Austin, and an MFA in Writing Popular Fiction from Seton Hill University. She lives with her husband in Los Angeles, and spends her days doing her favorite things: reading books, creating worlds, and kicking ass.

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter

The Good Girl’s Guide to Being Bad by Cookie O’Gorman #Cover Reveal

2019-03-27T00:00:00.000-04:00

The Good Girl’s Guide to Being Bad

Cookie O’Gorman

Publication date: April 2019

Genres: Contemporary, Romance, Young Adult

Seventeen-year-old Sadie is tired of being a good girl.

Her Career Aptitude Test results say she’s ideally suited for a career in the clergy (aka a nun), and on top of that, she receives yet another rejection. An aspiring dancer/choreographer, Sadie dreams of being featured on Dancer’s Edge—but they say she’s too sweet, needs more life experience. Her BFF, Kyle, and her oldest friend, 79-year-old Betty, agree: Sadie is in desperate need of a life makeover.

But she’ll need a coach.

Sadie doesn’t lie, cheat or steal–heck she doesn’t even curse (part of the reason she hasn’t checked off anything on her “Carpe Diem List”). Sadie doesn’t know the first thing about being bad. But Kyle’s twin brother, Colton, does. And he’s willing to teach Sadie on one condition: she has to do everything he says for the next month.

A dazzling first kiss, two smokin’ hot brothers and a bet that changes everything. In this enemies-to-more YA romance, Sadie learns:

Breaking the rules can be fun—especially when it leads to happily-ever-after.

Author Bio

Cookie O'Gorman writes YA romance to give readers a taste of happily-ever-after. Small towns, quirky characters, and the awkward yet beautiful moments in life make up her books. Cookie also has a soft spot for nerds and ninjas. Her novels ADORKABLE and NINJA GIRL are out now! Her third book, THE UNBELIEVABLE, INCONCEIVABLE, UNFORESEEABLE TRUTH ABOUT ETHAN WILDER, was released April 5, 2018!

Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter

My Review of Designs On Murder by Gayle Leeson #Book Review

2019-03-26T00:00:00.000-04:00

Designs On Murder: A Ghostly Fashionista Mystery by Gayle Leeson

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

I was so excited to be able to read the first book in a new series by Gayle Leeson. Designs on Murder is part of the Ghostly Fashionista Mystery Series. If the series is going to be anything like this first book, you are going to fall in love with it. Amanda has opened up her new fashion studio in historic Abingdon, Virginia. The shop she leases comes with one of the most loveable characters, Max. She just so happens to be a ghost and becomes Amanda’s best friend. Gayle brought all these characters to life for me very well. I love a book that makes me feel like I am watching everything that is happening. I cannot wait to read the next book in this delightful series, and yes, I would highly recommend this series to everyone who enjoys this genre. I want to thank Gayle, the publisher, and NetGalley for an advanced copy of this book. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own.

View all my reviews

My Review Precious Moments Little Book of Grandma's Love by Jean Fisher

2019-03-25T11:24:00.001-04:00

Precious Moments Little Book of Grandma's Love by Precious Moments

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

Precious Moments Little Book of Grandma’s Love by Jean Fischer is a sweet little board book for the young ones. It has cute little poems on each page that pertain to something grandma is doing with her grandchildren. It also contains a small scripture under original Precious Moments artwork. This is a wonderful way for the grandparents of small children to spend their time together.

I received this book free from the publisher through the BookLook Bloggers book review program. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own.

View all my reviews

New Release By Rachel Van Dyken

2019-01-03T00:00:00.000-05:00

A Crown for Christmas

by Rachel Van Dyken

4.33(6 ratings)

NEW RELEASE

From a New York Times bestselling author: Phillipa’s known duke Fitz her entire life, and hated him just as long. But when she learns she needs to marry before becoming queen, Fitz is her best option — if they don’t end up killing each other!

Publisher Description

The first time I met Fitz or to most of the world Duke Fitzegerald Heraldo Belleville, I punched him in the throat. I was actually aiming for his chin, but he was a few years older, clearly not wiser, but at least taller. He started wheezing on his candy cane. And well, the rest is history. Hate replaced what could have been friendship, and for the rest of my teen years, I watched him flirt with every single breathing female. I hated him.
Plotted his death with a smile on my face. And knew that my first decree as Queen would be to chop off his head. Except now that I’m finally old enough to inherit the title, there’s one tiny little slip-up. I need a man by my side. The problem? I may have accidentally scared them all away. I have no options. Until the devil rings my doorbell with a wicked grin on his face and revenge dancing like sugarplums in his gaze. I hate that I need him. It’s a serious problem. We have twelve days before we say I do. I just pray we survive without killing each other first

Purchase Here

My Review Of The Summer Cottage By Viola Shipman

2019-01-02T13:54:00.001-05:00

The Summer Cottage by Viola Shipman

My rating: 4 of 5 stars

The Summer Cottage is about love, family, regrets, and new beginnings. Adie Lou leaves Chicago behind along with her arrogant ex-husband who left her for a younger woman, to flip her family's old cottage into a Bed & Breakfast. Little does Adie Lou know how much it's going to take mentally and physically to make her families creaky cottage into her dream come true. I hope as you read The Summer Cottage it takes you right there with Adie Lou, as it did for me. A wonderful feel good story for this coming summer. I received an ARC of The Summer Cottage from NetGalley and Harlequin - Graydon House Books for an honest review.

View all my reviews

Killing the Rougarou By Shawn Beasley Book Tour

2018-12-22T10:44:00.001-05:00

KILLING THE ROUGAROU by Shawn M. Beasley, Romantic Suspense, 492 pp., $22.88 (paperback) $3.99 (Kindle)

Title: KILLING THE ROUGAROU
Author: Shawn M. Beasley
Publisher: iUniverse
Pages: 492
Genre: Romantic Suspense

Author Shawn Beasley captivates readers with the enthralling saga of
two southern families-the Gauthiers from the South Louisiana bayou
country and the Thomases from rural Texas-and the nightmare that will
ultimately touch them both. In her sweeping and richly evocative novel,
Beasley unfolds two remarkable family histories, populated by
unforgettable, deeply human characters, and then rocks their worlds with
tragedy and true horror. A novel that succeeds brilliantly on many
levels, Killing the Rougarou is, at once, moving and terrifying, tense
and thrilling, while capturing the sights, sounds, and vibrant life of
Louisiana’s Cajun country and Brazos County, Texas.

ORDER YOUR COPY:

Amazon / iUniverse / B&N

Being from South Louisiana, you hear a lot of
folklore. You never actually believe the old tales. You pass the stories on
down to your babies and so on. You never quite believe in them until you meet a
monster. Maybe then, you wonder: Could these stories be true?

It was the Louisiana State fair in Shreveport, October 13, 1972—Friday the thirteenth, for the
superstitious. The sky was cloudless and the weather perfect for a night out.
The lights from the rides twinkled and it seemed they competed with the stars
in the clear sky with their brightness. It was cool and crisp, the temperature
in the mid-sixties. All that was needed to keep warm tonight was a light
jacket.

A handsome family of six were enjoying the sights and sounds of
the fair. They had driven up this morning from Sulphur and would stay at
the Holiday Inn downtown. Matthew Robert Gauthier (pronounced “Go-shay”), the
father of the family, had chosen this hotel because it was rumored the king
himself, Elvis Presley, had stayed here during his Louisiana Hayride days. He
fancied himself to be “the coon-ass Elvis,” and was the only one who did. He
loved to sing and would often sing as loud as he could, mostly off-key. It
drove his family crazy. His wife often joked that Matthew couldn’t sing, so he
had to work in the oilfield. Music had always been in their home and was a big
part of their community.

Matthew almost always had a big smile on his face and a song on
his lips and so if Matthew was singing, he was dancing. It didn’t matter to him
when or where he performed. He truly loved to dance and sing, and if it
embarrassed his kids, well, that made it even better.

Matthew and his wife Jessie had been married for just over
sixteen years and he was still crazy about her. They had four children, three
boys and a girl. The baby girl was his world. He loved his boys with all his
heart, but “the Girl” as he called her, wrapped him around her little finger.
She had them all under her spell. As the baby and only girl child, she got away
with everything and usually all her requests were granted. In fact, the fair
had been her idea.

Louisiana has two state
fairs: one in Baton Rouge (which they always
went to), and this one in Shreveport. She learned of the
fair in Shreveport from school, and
wanted to go up north. As usual, what “the Girl” wanted “the Girl” got! So,
they loaded up the car and would spend their weekend here, in Shreveport, before returning
south to Choupique Bayou.

They had been to the exhibitions, looked at the livestock, and
finally made their way to the midway. Tomorrow they would go to the rodeo.
Matthew loved the rodeo: it was where he first met Jessie. A fleeting memory of
that meeting brought a smile to his face.

Music played through the outdoor speakers that surrounded the
midway. The song playing was “Smoke on the Water” by the band Deep Purple and
was so loud it drowned out the noise from the rides. The smell of hot dogs and
cotton candy was strong near the food trucks parked in a row between the rides
and the games. The games were on both sides of the midway alley and the
carnival barkers yelled for the Gauthier family to try their luck and maybe win
a prize. As they passed through the games, Matthew could sense his boys’
excitement and could barely prevent them from running off to the nearby rides.
The boys were ready to break free from their parents’ supervision and he
enjoyed delaying them. He liked to tease them and it made his day to embarrass
them.

After he dispensed the rules to his boys as to the when and where
of meeting back up, the boys ran off to enjoy themselves. Matthew called the
boys back to give them each some forgotten money.

“Come see, boys!” he yelled to the fleeing trio.

He smiled when he heard them groan. They were worried he might
begin dancing before they could get away. They looked back to see what he could
possibly want. When they turned around, they saw a smiling Matthew as he held
money up for them to see and waved the cash back and forth as if it were a fan.
They grinned back at their father when they realized in their haste to get away
they hadn’t remembered to get money for the rides. Their eyes lit up with
excitement as they each were given twenty dollars from Matthew, and he reminded
them not to be late when they met back up.

“Don’t make me come and find you,” he warned with a serious look
on his face.

They laughed at their father and ran off toward the rides,
thankful they missed his dance moves they knew were soon to begin.

As Matthew, Jessie, and the Girl made their way to the rides for
younger children, Matthew began to dance. Elvis Presley’s hit, “Burning Love”
vibrated through the speakers now and he couldn’t be contained. He grabbed up
his baby girl and adapted his Cajun two-step to the fast beat of the music as
he held his daughter. She laughed while she danced with her daddy and a bright
smile spread across her little face.

The lights from the rides caught the five-year-old girl’s
attention and twinkled back from her eyes. She was beautiful. She was tiny in
stature.

“Tiny but mighty,” her daddy would say.

Her hair was long, auburn, and pulled back in a ponytail. Her skin
was olive-colored and blemish-free. She also had a few light freckles sprinkled
across her nose. She had recently lost her upper-front tooth and lisped when
she talked. She was the spitting image of her mother with one exception: she
had her father’s unusual amber eyes. Amber eyes were also known as wolf eyes,
and as if nature wanted to increase their dramatic effect, they were fringed
with long, dark lashes. Her eyes sparkled brightly and when the dance ended,
she grabbed her daddy’s face and planted a big kiss on his cheek. He put her
down between himself and Jessie and they each grabbed one of her little hands.

“Come on with your daddy, Girl, the frogs are laughing and time’s
a wasting!”

They continued on to find the rides for her to enjoy. She was safe
and loved and right where she wanted to be, with her parents. This night at the
fair would be one of the last happy memories she would have with both of them.
This was the night “the music” died in their home. This was the night her
father lost his smile. This was the night she met the rougarou.

He watched them and saw her smile. He knew she secretly smiled for
him. He grew hard as he thought about what he wanted to do to her. She was his.
He would bide his time and follow them. He would take her. They didn’t matter.
It was what she wanted. His breathing grew heavier and his heartbeat
accelerated in anticipation.

Author Shawn Beasley captivates readers with the enthralling saga of

two southern families-the Gauthiers from the South Louisiana bayou

country and the Thomases from rural Texas-and the nightmare that will

ultimately touch them both. In her sweeping and richly evocative novel,

Beasley unfolds two remarkable family histories, populated by

unforgettable, deeply human characters, and then rocks their worlds with

tragedy and true horror. A novel that succeeds brilliantly on many

levels, Killing the Rougarou is, at once, moving and terrifying, tense

and thrilling, while capturing the sights, sounds, and vibrant life of

Louisiana’s Cajun country and Brazos County, Texas.

ORDER YOUR COPY:

Amazon / iUniverse / B&N

Visit us at Pump Up Your Book!

From The Desk Of Author Kellie McAllen

2018-12-20T00:00:00.000-05:00

What is it about vampires that's so compelling? The legend has been around for centuries, but stories about vampires still excite people. I know some of my favorite books, shows, and movies are about vampires - The Vampire Diaries, the Vampire Academy series, the Sookie Stackhouse series and True Blood, Anne Rice's books, the Twilight Saga. I loved them all!

I've been thinking about writing a vampire series myself for a long time, and now that I'm in the middle of it, I'm having great fun with it.

My mother had excitedly begged to read every one of my stories as I'm writing them... until now. Her favorite genre is Amish romance, so vampires are just a little too far off the scale for her.

But what about you? Do you like vampires, or do they creep you out?

If you love vampire stories as much as I do, I have a cool opportunity for you to join my launch team and get a FREE review copy of my upcoming release, Compelled by the Vampire, months before it's available to the public!

Launch team members post reviews and help spread the word about my books by sharing on social media.

I'm opening my team up to 50 new members, so if you'd like to join, click the red button below to fill out this form. First come, first serve.

Happy reading!

Kellie

JOIN THE LAUNCH TEAM

How do you survive when you become the one thing you despise?
It’s vamps like Roric who make humans believe vampires have a right to live in human society. He doesn’t drink human blood, he’s never even taken a vein, and the idea of infecting a human is abhorrent to him. As leader of the Vampire Enforcement Agency, his job is to find and capture the vamps who betray humans’ recently-earned trust. Until one human woman tempts him to break all the rules.

When Roric intercepts a rogue vamp attack and finds Caroline dying, he can’t resist her blood or her beauty, and in a moment of passion he does the unthinkable. But Caroline despises the monsters who killed her parents, and she’d rather die than be a vampire.

With vamp attacks at an all-time high and Caroline resisting Roric at every turn, his job, his family, even his life is at risk. Worse, Caroline's attacker wants her just as bad as Roric does, and he knows Roric’s secret. Roric will do anything to earn Caroline’s trust, but can he keep her safe long enough to convince her that life as a vampire isn’t a death sentence?

If you like sexy, thrilling paranormal romance/urban fantasy stories by authors like JR Ward, Bella Forrest, and IT Lucas, you’ll love Compelled by the Vampire.

This PNR/UF series is appropriate for ages 18+.

JOIN THE LAUNCH TEAM

Check out these great books by author friends of mine...

If life really was a fairy tale, Zakara would never be the damsel in distress. She’d be a thief, and Prince Charming wouldn’t have a clue how to steal the heart of the conniving criminal.

A human, a hellhound, and an archangel walk into a bar…
Sounds like the first line to a joke, right?
Only it's no joke…it's my damned life.

Keep up with Kellie...

Now Available!

A mermaid on a mission, four sexy, human mates, and a destiny divided between two worlds.

Get THE MERMAID'S RETURN for $3.99

WIP status... in editing

What do you do when you become the one thing you despise?

Coming Sept 2nd!

Preorder COMPELLED BY THE VAMPIRE for $2.99

Hi, I'm Kellie and I'm a bibliophile! I've had a lifelong love affair with books. I love the fantasy and romance of immersing myself in a great story, so it was inevitable that I take the next step and become a writer. When I'm not reading or writing, I'm usually baking cupcakes, obsessively decorating and redecorating my home, or watching dancing shows on TV. I live in North Carolina with my wonderful hubby, teenage daughter, and two sweet kitties.

Check out my other books here...

From The Desk Of Author Michelle Lynn

2018-12-19T00:00:00.000-05:00

Coming to you this fall is a series I have spent all year working on. It's called The True Story of Rapunzel. This is not your girl in a tower. In fact, you may never find her in the tower.

A curse. A hidden identity. A dangerous love.

Ten year old Persinette Basile was forced to flee the palace of Gaule for her life. Now at eighteen, she must find a way to return in order to obey a curse on her family line.

The prince won’t know who she is. Not anymore. But she knows him and what he will do if he discovers her true name.

Made to fight for her life to earn her place, she vows to find a way to break the curse no matter the cost.

-------

To. The. Death.

The words describing the tournament turn Prince Alexandre Durand’s blood to ice.

The last warrior standing will win a spot at his side.

As he's thrust onto the throne, forbidden magic, dangerous betrayals, and a complicated love could tear his reign apart.

When the secrets begin to unravel, will Alex stay true to the laws and traditions of Gaule or will he give it all up for a woman who deceived him?

Inspired by the Rapunzel story, this is the golden-haired princess as you’ve never seen her before.

This book releases October 4th, but will be available to the review team in the next month or two. Are you interested in reviewing? I'll be opening spots up for this series soon.

Do you read contemporary?

This month, my New Beginnings series is re-releasing. New covers, new editing, same stories.

These are sweet romances.

Why not give them a try in Kindle Unlimited?

OR - I have a stock of signed paperbacks I'm selling with the old covers.

$5 each plus $3 shipping. Order here.

Choices, book 1, released today!

See it on Amazon here!

Fatal Agreements By Ashley Fontainne Book Tour

2018-12-17T02:00:00.000-05:00

FATAL AGREEMENTS by Ashley Fontainne, Suspense/Mystery/Thriller, 449 pp., $15.99 (paperback) $3.99 (kindle)

Title: FATAL AGREEMENTS
Author: Ashley Fontainne
Publisher: RMSW Press
Pages: 449
Genre: Mystery/Suspense/Thriller

Whispered rumors tickled the ears of the residents of an entire town
for decades about the disturbing secrets of the old Halstead House,
dating all the way back to the early 1920s. Most people didn’t believe
them. Several people will soon discover they should have listened.Three years after struggling to cope with the death of her beloved
father and escaping an abusive relationship, Samantha Chapman decides
it’s time to return to her hometown of Hot Springs. She buys the
ramshackle Halstead House, eager to transform the dilapidated, abandoned
piece of history into her new law office and residence, hoping it will
be the start of a brighter chapter and a safe haven to escape her
personal demons.

Instead of newfound freedom, things take a dark turn when the
resurrection of the old home reveals the disturbing secrets hidden
within its walls. When youthful transgressions of numerous people come
to light, including ones some members of the Chapman family are
desperate to contain, it reveals the sins of the past. They collide with
the grave mistakes of the present, creating a perfect storm of chaos
and death for not only the Chapman family but others as well.

Some will survive.

Others will get burned.

Sam and her loved ones realize some family secrets should have remained buried.

ORDER YOUR COPY:

Amazon | Barnes & Noble

CHAPTER ONE

Wednesday, April 14, 1993

“I HOPE OUR
chat made my intentions clear about what I expect from you, Samantha. Another
incident like today will force me to contact your parents about your behavior.
Again. This is junior high not elementary school. The days of disrupting class
are over. Do I make myself clear?”

Biting her
lip to keep from saying something nasty, Sam nodded. Rather than look at the
irritated, sour face of Principal Townsend, she kept her gaze on her lap. She
understood the proper response was “Yes, ma’am,” yet the words wouldn’t form on
her lips. She was still too angry to play nice after Ms. Jolly sent her to the
office.

The old hag
English teacher, one of many in a school overrun with them, should have sent
both guilty parties. Sam had no control over someone passing her something
during class. Resa should be sitting right next to her, forced to listen to
Terrible Townsend’s yammering about following rules and respect.

Sam tried to
talk her way out of the situation. The thought of spending more time in
detention or listening to yet another lecture from her mother made her mad. She
tried to reason with the principal earlier, but it was a waste of time. Sam
didn’t understand why she was the only one sent to the office. Resa passed the
note to Sam during a pop quiz, not the other way around. Of course, Resa’s
actions were sneaky. Sam’s loud argument in class with Ms. Jolly about the
existence of the note and the request to produce it earned the trip to Terrible
Townsend’s office.

“I can’t hear
your head nod, Samantha.”

Raising her
gaze, Sam stifled a laugh. Ms. Townsend’s ugly, beady eyes glared back,
awaiting the proper response. Eager to escape the office, join Suzy for lunch,
and read the note which started the mess, Sam caved. “Yes ma’am.”

“Thank you.
You’re excused.”

Jumping to
her feet, Sam strode toward the door.

“One more
thing before you leave, Samantha.”

Cringing at
the false assumption Ms. Townsend would let her go without some sort of
punishment, Sam’s fingers wound around the doorknob. Terrible Townsend was fond
of handing out detention as though it were Halloween candy. “Yes, Ms.
Townsend?”

“When you
enter high school, you should enroll on the debate team.”

Shocked by
the words, Sam turned around. “Excuse me?”

After
removing her glasses, Ms. Townsend stood, smoothing out imaginary wrinkles on
her linen dress shirt. “Samantha Chapman, you have a way with words like your
sister, though she’s yet to come out of her shyness. You have the command of a
room like your parents; a perfect mixture of Big Sam’s joviality and
Charmaine’s cool elegance. For a few seconds, you almost swayed me over to see
your side of things. Your temper derailed you. It is something you need to work
on controlling. I believe you are a natural debater and would make a great
litigator someday.”

“Litigator?”
Sam had no idea what the term meant.

Coming around
from behind the desk, Ms. Townsend smiled, something she rarely did when alone,
much less around the student body of Lake Hamilton Junior High. The student’s
bright blue eyes were wild with curiosity and a hint of pride. As an educator,
Ms. Townsend had seen the look enough times during her career in the
public-school system. Samantha Chapman would go places if she learned to corral
her mouth.

“Have you
ever watched the TV show L.A. Law?”

“No.” Sam
wondered where the strange conversation was headed.

“Lawyers who
argue cases in front of judges and juries are known as litigators. I think you
might be blessed with the raw abilities I mentioned. Don’t waste them. Focus
your natural gifts and harness them while taming your tongue. If you do, I
assure you great things will happen in your life, not only for you, but for
those around you.”

Stunned by
the surprising praise, Sam blinked several times before responding. “Thank you,
ma’am.”

“Go before
you eat lunch too fast. No need for you to get sick.”

Disappearing
out the door, Sam headed toward the cafeteria while extracting Resa’s note from
the front pocket of her jeans. A hint of smile danced on her lips while
thinking about Ms. Townsend, pleased she didn’t hand out any detention. Maybe
it was time to give the woman another nickname? She wished her mother would say
such nice things; be more complimentary, but the kind words were saved for Suzy
only.

Opening the
crinkled paper, she paused in the hallway, ignoring the sounds of laughter and
clanking of dishes coming from the cafeteria. The aroma of sloppy joes and
coleslaw filled the hall, making her mouth water and stomach rumble.

“There you
are! Come on, hurry!” Resa’s long fingernails dug into Sam’s forearm. Her
blonde, frizzy curls bounced in time with her rapid pace while tugging her
friend toward the cafeteria doors.

“What’s going
on?”

The paper
slipped from Sam’s fingers, flittering to the floor.

Bending over,
Resa scooped up the note while continuing to drag Sam toward the doorway. “I
tried to warn you when overhearing Kathy and Tanya planning it out in first
period. I begged them not to do it, but Kathy wouldn’t listen. Hurry up because
he’s started! Kip’s at her table!”

“Started
what?”

“Kathy’s
game. Suzy’s today’s victim.”

Yanking her
arm away, Sam stopped inches from the double metal doors leading to the
cafeteria. “Are you sure?”

“Yes. He
plans on flirting with Suzy before asking her to the Spring Fling dance loud
enough for everyone to hear the words before he…”

“Oh, shit!”
Sam’s pulse quickened.

Kathy Poole
was known for insensitive pranks. Even the slightest annoyance like bumping
into her in the hallway was justifiable cause to be in her crosshairs.

Pushing Resa
aside, she peered around the doors. Kip Hale sat on the edge of the table,
peering down at Suzy, his smile fake and movements practiced. Suzy’s blue eyes
were laser-locked on Kip’s tan, gorgeous face, mesmerized as though the boy cast
some sort of hypnotic spell over her love-struck mind.

Sam spotted
Kathy Poole, Tanya Reynolds and the rest of the cheer team three tables over,
hands covering their mouths as bouts of laughter made their bodies shudder. Sam
didn’t care for any of the snotty cheerleaders, yet she despised Kathy Poole.
Tanya and the others were mindless followers—Kathy was the mean ringleader.

Every single
student at Lake Hamilton Junior High understood head cheerleader Kathy Poole
claimed track star Kip Hale as her own, including Sam’s twin sister, Suzy, who
had a massive crush on the hunk.

The “game”
would break Suzy’s love-stricken heart. Suzy tried out for next year’s squad
and made it, beating out one of Kathy’s friends.

Shoving her
books into Resa’s hands, Sam scowled. “If you’re the one who blabbed about
Suzy’s feelings toward Kip, I’ll whip your ass next.”

Resa said
nothing so Sam ran to Suzy’s aide.

The din of
laughter from the boisterous students disappeared after they let out a
collective gasp while watching Sam race across the floor, her unruly coppery
hair flapping behind her like fluttering flames.

Kip’s devious
smile vanished as Sam barreled toward him.

Suzy turned
her head at the commotion.

The flush of
embarrassment made Suzy’s normally pale cheeks vibrant burgundy. The smattering
of freckles across the bridge of her nose and cheekbones disappeared. A trail
of wet tears spilled from her sister’s eyes, rolling down the red cheeks in a
steady stream.

“What an
idiot! I can’t believe she fell for it! Like Kip would ever take
her ugly ass on a date or to the Spring Fling dance! She looks like Bozo’s
kid!”

The snickers
from Kathy’s table ignited Sam’s fuse. She balled up her fist, never slowing
her pace.

Kip stood,
holding his hands out in mock surrender. “Hey, it was a joke…”

She never let
him finish the sentence. The sound and feel of her fist smashing into his face
made her own devious smirk appear even though the impact hurt like hell.

Kip flew
backward, head grazing the edge of the table behind him. He landed with a
loud thump on the stained tile floor.

Kathy stopped
laughing as blood squirted from in between her boyfriend’s fingers. “You crazy
bitch! Look what you did to him!”

“I’m not
finished yet.”

Sam turned
the focus of her rage on Kathy, splitting her lip before the faculty swooped in
to intervene. The metal braces on the girl’s teeth ripped open her knuckles.
She didn’t care. Wrapping her fingers around a wad of thick, brown hair, Sam
yanked, ripping out a large chunk.

Ms. Townsend
arrived, pulling the girls apart as another teacher helped Kip to his feet.

Kathy sobbed
on the floor.

“My office,
all of you! Now. Looks like our little chat earlier fell upon deaf ears,
Samantha.”

Glaring at
Ms. Townsend, Sam yanked her arm from the woman’s grip. “They deserved it,
trust me. No one messes with my sister. No one.”

***

HOURS LATER,
EARS ringing from her mother’s yelling, Sam stared at the ceiling while Suzy
finished brushing her teeth in the bathroom. Ms. Townsend suspended her for
three days, which ended up getting her grounded for three weeks. She didn’t
care. The punishment was worth it because Kathy, Kip, and Tanya were suspended
as well. She won her argument this time with Ms. Townsend.

After Resa
showed the note to the principal, their plan in black and white doomed them.
Less than twenty minutes after the battle in the cafeteria, several students
humiliated by the trio in the past came forward. Once they spilled their
stories, Kip was kicked off the track team, Kathy and Tanya stripped of being
cheerleaders, and they all received a week’s suspension.

A soft knock
on the bedroom door made Sam smile. Suzy slammed the bathroom door shut.

“Hey slugger.
I brought some ice for your hand.”

“Thanks,
Daddy.” Sam noticed the gleam in his baby blue eyes. It looked like he had some
new grays, making his fading auburn hair shimmer under the overhead light.
“Does this mean you aren’t mad at me anymore?”

Easing down
on the edge of the bed, Big Sam smiled after handing the ice pack to his
daughter. “Your ma’s the one who’s got her feathers all ruffled. Not me. I’m a
preening peacock. You stood up for your kin when the bullies attacked. I’m
proud of you.”

Sam’s mouth
dropped open. “You are? Why didn’t you say something when Mom was tearing into
me?”

“Because over
the years, I learned when to try and battle your ma and when to let her have
the reins and run amok. Tonight, I picked the latter.”

After
resituating the ice pack, Sam asked, “When my grounding’s over, may I start
watching L.A. Law on Thursday nights?”

Big Sam
raised an inquisitive brow. “Fine by me but TV ain’t my preferred entertainment
choice. You know your ma watches Knots Landing on Thursday
nights. Good luck convincing her to give up her nighttime soaps. Why the sudden
interest?”

Sam shrugged
her shoulders. “I’m thinking about what I want to be when I grow up. Being a
lawyer sounds like fun.”

Ruffling the
mop of dark auburn curls on his daughter’s head, Big Sam smiled. “You can be
anything you want, darling daughter. Put your mind to it and stay focused. I’m
behind you, and your sister, one-hundred percent with whatever career choices
picked.”

Yanking the
door open, Suzy stormed out of the bathroom and jumped into bed. “I hope you
aren’t letting her off the hook, Daddy. What she did was wrong.”

Sam gaped at
her sister.

Big Sam
chuckled, rising to his feet. He found it rather amusing the twins looked
identical yet had polar-opposite personalities. One’s attitude was courtesy of
his wife, and the other was more in tune with his laid-back style.

He sensed an
epic battle looming between his girls. “Well, enough raging estrogen for one
day. Time for me to retire to the back porch with a good book and cigar. Try
not to leave marks on each other or make a mess, girls. Love you both.”

Neither
sister spoke for a full minute after their father left. Sam sensed Suzy’s anger
from the across the dark room. She couldn’t fathom why in the world her twin
was mad at her instead of the mean kids at school.

“You ruined
my life.”

“I…”

“My turn to
talk, Sam! You did enough gabbing all day, and when talking didn’t work, you
acted like a boxer. Don’t stick your nose into my personal life again. Ever.
I’ll handle things on my own. You may not mind being a social outcast, but I
do, so butt out.”

Stung by the
harsh words, Sam remained quiet. Suzy had never, ever, spoken to her like that
before. For thirteen years they were consumed by the tight, twin bond between
them. Silent tears trickled from her eyes, soaking the pillowcase while fuming
over the day’s events.

Streaks of
lightning lit up their bedroom, followed by a crack of thunder so loud their
beds shook. Sam was terrified of storms and Suzy knew it. Closing her eyes, she
counted to ten, waiting for her sibling to come snuggle next to her like she
always did when thunderstorms came.

Suzy never
moved a muscle.

When the
second boom rattled the bed, Sam’s eyes popped open. “Are you…?”

“No, I’m not.
Deal with your fears while I handle mine.”

Sam sensed
things would never be right between them. The knowledge made her sad and angry
at the same time. She did nothing wrong and yet was being treated as though she
did.

She wouldn’t
grasp until many years later the devastating effects of the day’s incident, and
how her actions to protect her sister would end up being the downfall of her
entire family.

Ashley Fontainne writes in multiple genres ranging from
mystery/thrillers to suspenseful paranormal to dark comedy.
The recipient of numerous awards for her gritty, no-holds barred style of writing, her stories will captivate and pull you inside the lives of her characters and intricate plot lines.

Website Address: www.ashleyfontainne.com

Twitter Address: www.twitter.com/AshleyFontainne

Facebook Address: www.facebook.com/AshleyFontainne

Today's Featured Deals

2018-12-14T18:38:00.000-05:00

My Review Of 'You Will Suffer' By Alexandra Ivy

2018-12-08T00:30:00.000-05:00

EVERY SMALL TOWN HAS A SECRET

The rolling fields outside Curry, Oklahoma, are a beautiful spot to ramble on an early spring day . . . and a lonely place to die. Among the prairie grass and wildflowers, a killer kneels beside a curled-up figure, plunging a syringe beneath skin to deliver the fatal dose. And as the victim’s last breath mingles with the air, it sends a warning out to the world: This is just the beginning.

AND THIS ONE

Rejecting her judge father’s prestigious connections, Ellie Guthrie opened her own law firm in Curry. But something strange is going on. Ellie’s tires are slashed. Dead rats are dumped on her patio. Her neighbor, former FBI agent Nate Marcel, insists on watching out for her. And then bodies begin turning up—supposed overdoses that Nate suspects are something much more sinister.

IS WORTH KILLING FOR

There’s a killer in town, toying with her, drawing both Ellie and Nate into a web of murder and vengeance. To find answers, she’ll have to unearth this small community’s dark and twisted past . . . before it’s her turn to die.

Purchase Links:

Amazon

Alibris

I have never read any of this author's books before but the synopsis sounded interesting so I was willing to give this book a chance.

The plot is good and it is entertaining enough, a small town crime novel, with a serial killer thrown in to grab your interest.

However, it did not keep me riveted. The pace and predictability made this more of a take it or leave it than a must read for me.

I received an ARC via NetGalley in exchange for an honest and unbiased review.

My Review Of 'When Do I Love You?' By Thomas Nelson

2018-12-07T18:48:00.000-05:00

When do I love you, little lizard?

Would I love you in a blizzard?

Even if the snow reaches up to your eyes,

I will be here, standing right by your side.

Remind your little one of your unending love with the playful rhymes of When Do I Love You?,a silly and charming board book that will make you laugh as it warms your heart.

With super silly pictures of lizards in blizzards, goats in boats, and ducks in trucks, When Do I Love You? maintains a classic emotive tone that parents will love. The perfect gift for baby showers, birthday parties, or as an extra special "just because!" gift, this sweet book will be a favorite in your family for years to come.

Purchase Links:
Amazon
B & N
Alibris

Fun Animal Board Book For Your Little One

When Do I Love You? Beautifully illustrated by Marta Cabrol. Thomas Nelson captures your little ones attention with these cute animal mommy's and their little ones of their own.

It would make a perfect gift for a little ones birthday, or even as a shower gift for the little newcomer. Your little one will love the playful rhymes along with the pictures of the bear, the cat, even a lizard at that......

I received this book free from the publisher through the BookLook Bloggers book review program. I was not required to write a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own.

From The Desk Of Author Amy Reece

2018-07-30T00:00:00.000-04:00

THIS TIME by Amy Reece is LIVE on Amazon & KU!!

NOW AVAILABLE!

AMAZON US | AMAZON INTERNATIONAL

DeLuca Family Series #4

Nina Braden’s twin brother is dead, and her childhood crush is back in her life.

Sexy firefighter Seamus DeLuca was Neal’s best friend. He and Nina shared a forbidden kiss at seventeen, but life has kept them apart.

Her brother’s death brings them together, close enough to tempt them both. But something is…off about the way Neal died, and neither she nor Seamus can let it go. The police say it’s suicide, but there’s an encrypted video in his financial documents, and his fiancée is acting strangely…

Nina feels like there’s a clue just outside her grasp that will make the mystery of her twin’s death fall into place. But the mystery of her own heart may be harder to solve…

GOODREADS: http://bit.ly/ThisTimeAmyReeceTBR

NOW AVAILABLE!

AMAZON US | AMAZON INTERNATIONAL

Read the DeLuca Family Series today!

BOXSET AVAILABLE ON KU! https://amzn.to/2KR0qEN

INDIVIDUAL BOOKS ON KU! https://amzn.to/2GLWgM6

SNEAK PEEK!

She laughed and leaned against him. “This wasn’t quite what I had in mind for our first time.” Oh, God, did I just say that? I don’t want him to think…well, that I…shit. “I mean, not that there will be…or that you want—”

He slung his arm around her shoulder and kissed the top of her head. “Of course I want, Nina. But I know that’s not what you meant. If I have anything to say about it, there will definitely be a real first time. But we can talk about that later.” He stood and pulled her to her feet. “Why don’t you go get dressed and wake the girls? I’ll scramble some eggs and make some toast.”

MEET THE AUTHOR:

Amy Reece lives in Albuquerque, NM, with her husband and family. She loves to read and travel and has an unhealthy addiction to dogs. She believes red wine and coffee are the elixirs of life and lead to great inspiration. She is the author of The Seeker Series (YA paranormal) and The Way to Her Heart (YA Romantic Suspense).

New July Reads Just for You

2018-07-27T00:00:00.000-04:00

Best Sellers

Origin

Dan Brown

Crazy Rich Asians

Kevin Kwan

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The Sinners

Ace Atkins

Romance

Cottage by the Sea

Debbie Macomber

How to Find Love in a Bookshop

Veronica Henry

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Lady Be Good

Amber Brock

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The Secret of the Urns By A. B. Carolan Promo Blitz

2018-07-26T00:00:00.000-04:00

YA Sci-fi Mystery

Date Published: June 2018

Publisher: Carrick Publishing

Set in the same sci-fi universe as A. B. Carolan’s The Secret Lab, this new young-adult sci-fi mystery explores a Jupiter-sized planet’s satellite in a faraway solar system where human scientists are studying local flora and fauna but behaving badly until a teen who wants to study the satellite’s ETs comes along. She shows that cooperation is better than xenophobia. In the process, she discovers that the ETs’ beliefs go far beyond ancestor worship. Based on Steven M. Moore's short story "Marcello and Me."

About the Author

Irish author A. B. Carolan is a collaborator of American author Steven M. Moore. They both agree the combination of the sci-fi and mystery genres created by Isaac Asimov makes for interesting reading. They met at Blarney Castle in Ireland. A. B. loves writing for young adults and adults who are young at heart. Some Donegal neighbors think he’s related to that great Irish harpist, Turlough O'Carolan. Others say he was stolen and raised by leprechauns. They do a lot of kidding in Donegal.

Contact Links

Purchase Links

Smashwords

The Gathering & Hosted Giveaway By Bernadette Giacomazzo Blitz

2018-07-25T00:00:00.000-04:00

The Gathering
Bernadette Giacomazzo
(The Uprising, #1)
Publication date: March 31st 2018
Genres: Adult, Dystopian

The Uprising Series tells the story of three freedom fighters and their friends in high — and low — places that come together to overthrow a vainglorious Emperor and his militaristic Cabal to restore the city, and the way of life, they once knew and loved.

In The Gathering, Jamie Ryan has defected from the Cabal and has joined his former brothers-in-arms — Basile Perrinault and Kanoa Shinomura — to form a collective known as The Uprising. When an explosion leads to him crossing paths with Evanora Cunningham — a product of Jamie’s past — he discovers that The Uprising is bigger, and more important, than he thought.

Goodreads / Amazon

Are you a book blogger?

—

EXCERPT:

Jamie

I saw Emperor – looking like a hot air balloon, sounding as ridiculous as ever – blathering on about his personal Reichstag fire, and laying the blame of the explosion squarely at the feet of myself and my brothers-in-arms.

“…and it’s these traitors of the state – the threat to the security of my Empire of the United States of America – the defectors of the Cabal who go by Jamie Ryanand Basile Perrinault and, my greatest betrayal, Supreme Allied Commander Kanoa Shinomura…” he hollered into the microphone, which seemed to reverberate throughout the city.

At the sound of Kanoa’s name, the Cabal members below the balcony slammed the butts of their guns on the floor in rhythm. I knew that rhythm all too well – it was meant to be a war cry for those of us in the rank-and-file of the Cabal – but, to the untrained ear, it sounded like a machine gun going off…which was exactly the point.

But I couldn’t help but sneer at the accusation that the blast that nearly killed Evanora and Tommy was somehow our fault. He’d spent decades trying to catch us and failing miserably, yet in the same breath, believed we were inept enough to set off a blast that took no lives and could be cleaned up during a balmy New York evening. And he managed to sell this ridiculous belief to the crowd, no less.

“Let’s make something clear, asshole,” I muttered, “if it had been me and the boys that lit your shit up, you wouldn’t be standing here today.”

Despite the absurdity of the accusation – and despite the obvious absurdity of the accusation – the victims of psi just grunted along, agreeing with everything and anything that came out of Emperor’s mouth, in part because they didn’t know any better (they were psi victims, after all), and in part because any disagreement with what Emperor had to say was met with a fierce, painful punishment.

“His Word, Before All and Above All,” I muttered. “With liberty and justice for no one, so kiss my peasant Old New York ass and take a breath mint afterward, unless you like that funky aftertaste…”

My voice trailed off as my eyes focused on a strange woman on the balcony.

At first, I couldn’t discern who she was – she looked like someone I’d seen before, yet someone I’d never seen before.

Her hair was a garish white-blonde, stringy and lifeless, and pinned tightly behind her head with a set of black ceramic chopsticks. Her makeup was almost cartoonish – cat-like black eyeliner and matte black lipstick sat atop a ghostly white foundation. Even her outfit was a hideously hilarious cultural appropriation – a black silk kimono paired with a set of black stiletto heels. I’d seen Old New York 42nd Street prostitutes, with terrible heroin problems, sell the “Asian coquette” look better than what I’d seen before me now.

“Who the actual…” I began, hesitantly, unable to process who I was seeing before me.

And then it hit me, all at once, who she was.

For the first time in a long time, I was literally speechless.

When I could finally find my voice again, it barely came out in a whisper. “Rosie,” I squeaked.

I walked into the Ludlow Street apartment I shared with Angelique and was instantly greeted with the smell of a meat dish that, I would later learn, was calledcarne asada.

“Angelique!” I called out over the loud sizzling of steak as I kicked off my black Frye boots and set my matching acoustic guitar down. “Where are you, my love?”

“In here!” she called, out of sight, from the kitchen, where more clanging and banging sounds echoed over her voice.

I began walking through the apartment, shedding layers as I went along until I reached the kitchen wearing nothing but my black leather pants and a mischievous smile. I was hoping to have a little appetizer of crème d’Angelique before dinner, but when I reached the kitchen, I realized – much to my chagrin – that we weren’t alone.

Angelique, her hair tied back into a messy ponytail, was wearing a tight, white, see-through shorts jumper and a matching white apron. She was standing next to an unfamiliar-looking woman with a matching messy ponytail, but whose thick chocolate brown hair stood in sharp contrast to Angelique’s thin flaxen locks. The rest of her, too, was in stark contrast to Angelique, but not in a bad way – she was olive-skinned, in contrast to Angelique’s pale white skin; she was curvy, in contrast to Angelique’s ectomorphic figure; she was fiery, in contrast to Angelique’s ethereal nature.

They were standing side by side, working on something that smelled simply delicious. Angelique was mixing flour, sugar, and garlic powder, and her friend was adding melted butter and salted water to the resultant powder, then kneading it until it formed a dough.

“Am I interrupting something?” I asked as I walked behind Angelique, wrapped my arms around her waist, and kissed her neck, breathing in her scent of lilacs as I did so.

She smiled, then took her index finger and bopped the tip of my nose with the flour mixture. “Hey handsome,” she said, beatifically. “We’re making something special for you for dinner. We’ve got carne asada in the pan over there – we’ve got some arroz con gandules in the rice cooker – and we’re making…wait, girl, what’s this called?”

“Arepas,” her friend said, smiling as she continued to knead the dough between her hands, her silver thumb ring glistening in the light of the dusk as she did so.

“Right, arepas,” Angelique repeated. “Ramira here is teaching me all her magic ways – she says this is the exact dinner I need to make if I want my man to marry me.” She giggled, then elbowed Ramira, who giggled along with Angelique.

I couldn’t help but giggle, as well, as I unentwined myself from Angelique and walked over to Ramira to properly introduce myself. “I’m going to be stuffed fordays with all this delicious food, so it’s only right that we become friends,” I began, extending my hand. “Hi there. I’m James Randall Ryan IV, I somehow lucked out enough to convince this lovely lady Angelique to be my girlfriend, and it’s a pleasure to meet you. You can call me Jamie.”

Ramira smiled, then shook my hand with two of her fingers, taking care not to smear the wet dough across my palm. “Well, my name is Ramira Diaz, Angelique is my best friend, and it’s a pleasure to meet you too. You can call me Rosie, though. Everyone else does.”

I sat under a wilting star magnolia tree and stared, intently, through the open window of a room that had to be Rosie’s dressing room. She peeled her black silk kimono off and turned her back to the frameless window, exposing her prominent ribs and shoulder blades as she did so. The sight of her suddenly-bare, emaciated frame shocked me, especially given how pronounced her curves were in our younger years, and tears welled up in my eyes yet again.

In the decades since Angelique and my son had died, I could count the number of times I’d cried on one hand. In the past 72 hours, though – as I realized that my best friend’s kid, and my best friend’s girlfriend, were alive and well, and that the Uprising was bigger than I’d ever imagined – the tears came quickly and flowed easily, and I couldn’t decide if this was a sign of strength or weakness on my part.

Rosie slipped a shimmering white camisole over her emaciated frame, which she then tucked into a pair of white linen slacks. I couldn’t get over how thin she’d gotten, then wondered if this was by her own design, or if she was under orders from that evil husband of hers. No way would Jordan be cool with this, I thought to myself. On his fucking grave would this go on. On his fucking grave. And wouldn’t you know it – here we are, on his fucking grave.

I saw Rosie leave the room and begin to head down a flight of stairs, and I took that as an opportunity to get her alone, away from the rabid Cabal and out of sight of the vainglorious Emperor. She’d taken a few steps away from her building, and into Emperor’s Park, before passing by the wilting star magnolia tree that I was hiding behind. It was only when I saw the back of her slicked back, perfect ponytail – what a difference from the one she was wearing when we first met, I thought – that I saw the opportunity to get her alone and began walking behind her.

“You’ve come a long way from making arepas on Ludlow Street,” I said, tapping her on the shoulder when I finally caught up with her.

She spun around, her face scrunched up in fear, and for a split second, I thought she was going to hit me. But just as quickly, she relaxed as her eyes registered who owned the disembodied voice. “Jamie,” she whispered tearfully. “You’re here. You’re alive. I didn’t realize…”

“How the hell did you not?” I asked, furrowing my eyebrows and side-eyeing her. “Your damned husband has been hunting me for decades.”

“I knew that,” she said, taking ragged breaths. “But just the fact that he was never able to take you alive led me to believe that you were…you know…” Her voice trailed off.

I wasn’t convinced, and I continued to stare at her intently as I scratched my left cheek, which was now beginning to show the first signs of salt-and-pepper beard stubble. “First of all, why the hell are you talking like you’re Queen Elizabeth? Second, let me just state it for the record: you give your asshole husbandway too much credit if you think he can take me down.”

Rosie bit her lower lip, then shifted her eyes down. I put my hand under her chin and tipped her face up, forcing her eyes to meet mine as I tried, desperately, to search for a sign of the Rosie I once knew. “Rosie,” I whispered intently. “It’s me. You don’t have to hide from me.”

Her face was a blank slate. “My name is Rose. Rose Cunningham,” she said with flat affect.

“Oh, bullshit,” I whispered, even more intently. “Whatever happened to ‘call me Rosie, everyone else does’? What happened to that woman who was makingarepas in the kitchen with my Angelique?”

That got her attention, and her deep brown eyes flashed with fire as she balled up her fists and began swinging at me. “You shit! You bastard! You did it! You almost killed my baby!”

I ducked, bobbed and weaved, avoiding each blow as I carefully tried to talk her down from the ledge. “Rosie! What the hell are you talking about? I didn’t do that shit! I swear!”

She continued to swing at me. “Yes! Yes, you did!” she squealed tearfully, repeating the same “yes, yes” with each swing, her voice getting louder each time.

“Do you want to knock it off before the fuckin’ Cabal finds us, Rosie? The fuck is wrong with you? Jesus Christ!” I was shouting despite myself and began scanning the landscape frantically for Cabal soldiers that would have undoubtedly heard us, all while bobbing and weaving like a prizefighter to avoid getting punched in the face.

She swung even harder and squealed even louder. “You tried to kill my baby! Just like you killed yours!”

That line finally got me to react, and I had to steady my breathing to stop from clocking her in the mouth. Even in the throes of the worst of my Faustian behavior, I never hit a woman, and neither did any of my bandmates – the thought of violence against a woman, let alone a woman we’d loved, didn’t even cross our drug-addled minds.

Instead, I grabbed her wrists and forced them down to her sides, holding them in place at hip level as she struggled, trying to hit me, until she finally began whimpering in defeat.

“Now you listen to me, Ramira Diaz, and you listen well,” I began, angrily. “You may have forgotten everything you were and are, but I sure as fuck haven’t forgotten a goddamn thing, and let me rest assure you, I never fuckin’ will.”

Her lower lip was trembling, her eyes were watering, and it became evident that she was on the verge of tears. Still, I continued. “So, let me get a few things out of the way now, so we’re not confused. Number one: that blast? It wasn’t me. It wasn’t anyone tied to me. It wasn’t anyone whose name I can even spell. Because let me assure you, again, that if it were me, or anyone tied to me, we’d have burned down the entire fuckin’ city, even if it meant killing ourselves in the process, and wouldn’t have left a survivor anywhere on this God-forsaken island.

“Number two: you know goddamn well I didn’t kill Angelique or our baby. Now I wear their death on my heart every. Fucking. Day. I haven’t had a good night’s sleep in twenty fucking years, from the day they were killed, because I can’t get their murders out of my mind. There are times I wish I was dead, just so that I don’t have to live with the guilt of their murders, but no, here I am, and ain’t that a fuckin’ bitch from Hell. I’d give all the money in the world to have my Angelique back. I’d trade my life for Jordan’s any day of the week. And my son – my only legacy – never had a chance at life, and you think that’s all fair?

“Number three – and this is the most important part, Rosie, goddamnit, you’d better fuckin’ listen to this if you listen to nothing else: remember that promise I made to you in the hospital room? All those years ago? Because I fuckin’ do. And that’s why when Evanora and Tommy came down the Bowery after the blast, and I realized who she was, I made sure she was safe and clean and warm…”

Rosie looked shocked. “Wait. She came to you?”

I searched her face, trying to see if I could register where her loyalties lie before I continued to answer the question. For some reason, however, I couldn’t make it out. I even tried to read Rosie’s mind using a gentle form of psi, but I still couldn’t read her mind at all. It was like trying to probe a brick wall. So, to protect Evanora – and the rest of us – I chose to cover my tracks. “Yeah,” I said airily, “she mentioned something about listening to Uprising Radio.”

The name of Uprising Radio registered some type of recognition with Rosie, and her eyes lit up slightly. “My baby has heard Uprising Radio?”

“I don’t know for sure,” I continued, still adopting an airy affect, “but I’m pretty sure that’s what she said.” Using my Cabal training, I put a mental wall between my thoughts and Rosie, mostly because I didn’t know how much training she’d had in the psi arts, and I wasn’t sure if she, too, could read my mind. And if, God forbid, her loyalties lied with that pathetic excuse of her husband, I could at least protect, if not myself, then the whole Uprising movement.

I made sure the wall was firmly in place before I continued. “I think I’ve heard Uprising Radio a few times, but I don’t know much about it, who does it, or anything of the sort.”

“Yeah,” Rosie said, hesitantly, behind a mental brick wall of her own, “I have no idea, either.”

We were calmer, now – our breath was steady, our thoughts were collected, and Rosie’s fists were limp. I finally felt confident that she wasn’t going to try to hit me again, so I loosened my grip on her wrists.

But I suddenly found myself unable to let her go, so I slid my hands from her wrists to her hands and grabbed her fingers lightly. I was overcome with emotion.

“What is it, Jamie?” Her voice was cracking.

I exhaled loudly, then drew in a ragged breath. “Do you think about him, Rosie? Do you think about Jordan at all?”

She closed her eyes and allowed the tears to fall as she exhaled shakily. “Every day of my life,” she said softly. “There’s not a day that goes by that Jordan doesn’t cross my mind. Every time I look at Evanora – every time I hear her laugh – he comes to my mind. Sometimes, she gives me this look – you remember, Jamie? You remember when Jordan would hear something that was just too stupid for words, and he would get this look on his face, like, ‘were you dropped on your head as a child?’” – and to this, I gave a half-smile and a nod – “and now, she gets that look. And that one eyebrow” – she took her finger and drew on her left eyebrow – “it would just go up like…like…”

She dropped her hand as her voice trailed off, her eyes filling with tears.

I nodded my head, closed my eyes, and sighed. “Fuckin’ guy,” I said, opening my eyes and looking at Rosie. “So. You didn’t see me, right?”

Rosie smiled and winked at me. “Ivan Sapphire? Please. Get over yourself, rock star.” She squeezed my hands one last time for good measure. “I’m going to leave now. I’m not going to look back because I don’t want to see where you’re going. This way, if someone with bad intentions against you asks me if I know where you are, I can answer honestly when I say I don’t know. But just because I don’t look back, doesn’t mean I want to see you go. I need you to understand that, Jamie Ryan. I don’t need you to over-analyze things that don’t need over-analyzing. I need you to let me go, Jamie Ryan, and I need you to know that I love you, and I thank you, from the bottom of my heart.”

She finally let go of my hands, gave me a slight nod, then turned and walked back to her home. I watched her, silently, keeping the promise I made so long ago to Jordan Barker and didn’t leave what was once known as Central Park until I saw, for sure, that she was safe inside.

Author Bio:

With an impressive list of credentials earned over the course of two decades, Bernadette R. Giacomazzo is a multi-hyphenate in the truest sense of the word: an editor, writer, photographer, publicist, and digital marketing specialist who has demonstrated an uncanny ability to thrive in each industry with equal aplomb. Her work has been featured in Teen Vogue, People, Us Weekly, The Los Angeles Times, The New York Post, and many, many more. She served as the news editor of Go! NYC Magazine for nearly a decade, the executive editor of LatinTRENDS Magazine for five years, the eye candy editor of XXL Magazine for two years, and the editor-at-large at iOne/Zona de Sabor for two years. As a publicist, she has worked with the likes of Curtis “50 Cent” Jackson and his G-Unit record label, rapper Kool G. Rap, and various photographers, artists, and models. As a digital marketing specialist, Bernadette is Google Adwords certified, has an advanced knowledge of SEO, PPC, link-building, and other digital marketing techniques, and has worked for a variety of clients in the legal, medical, and real estate industries.

Based in New York City, Bernadette is the co-author of Swimming with Sharks: A Real World, How-To Guide to Success (and Failure) in the Business of Music (for the 21st Century), and the author of the forthcoming dystopian fiction series, The Uprising. She also contributed a story to the upcoming Beyonce Knowles tribute anthology, The King Bey Bible, which will be available in bookstores nationwide in the summer of 2018.

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Sipped By C. T. Collier #Release Blitz #Hosted Giveaway

2018-07-24T00:00:00.000-04:00

Mystery (Cozy/Traditional)

Date Published: June 2018

After a rough semester, Professor Lyssa Pennington just wants to post her grades and join her husband, Kyle, in Cornwall for Christmas. First, though, she’s expected to host an elegant dinner for Emile Duval, the soon-to-be Chair of Languages at Tompkins College.

Too bad no one told Lyssa murder is on the menu. And, by the way, Emile Duval is an imposter.

Who is he really? And who wanted him dead? Without those answers, the Penningtons can kiss Christmas in Cornwall goodbye.

Excerpt

Trooper Moran tapped his pen. “Let’s talk about the person you saw leaving the kitchen, the one who delivered the wine. Do you remember her coat?”

“I was fixated on her gloves.”

“Cloth coat? Down?”

“It was the kind of dark winter parka anyone would wear on a cold night, but that doesn’t tally with the classy gloves.”

“Did you see the woman’s footwear?”

“No, just the gloved hand.”

He chuckled. “Tell me about the glove.”

Lyssa’s cheeks were hot. “I was memorizing every detail to tell Kyle, because I really really wanted a pair just like them for Christmas.”

He shook his head.

“So I’m not a trained detective,” she joked. “I noticed some other detail, but I can’t grab hold of it right now.”

“Her head popping back for a look?”

Lyssa shook her head. “This woman didn’t second-guess anything. She’d worked out every detail.”

About the Author

C. T. Collier was born to solve logic puzzles, wear tweed, and drink Earl Grey tea. Her professional experience in cutthroat high tech and backstabbing higher education gave her endless opportunity to study intrigue. Add to that her longtime love of mysteries, and it’no wonder she writes academic mysteries (The Penningtons Investigate) that draw inspiration from traditional whodunits.

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What Lies In Shadows By Siena Noble #Book Blitz #Hosted Giveaway

2018-07-23T13:01:00.004-04:00

What Lies in Shadows
Siena Noble
Publication date: July 20th 2018
Genres: Adult, Mystery, Romance, Suspense

Ten years ago, former San Francisco police detective Daniel Yun lost everything when he lost his beloved wife and partner, Christine, to the very serial killer they were hunting. Now a private investigator, Dan has done his best to move on with his life, burying himself in his work and being a devoted uncle to his nieces and nephews. His weekends are occupied with a succession of boring blind dates and a long string of willing submissives, but the one woman who has managed to creep into his heart is the one woman he can’t allow himself to have: Heather, Christine’s best friend.

Since the brutal murder of her best friend, homicide detective Heather D’Angelo has dedicated her life to keeping the city safe from scum like Christine’s killer. Between her stressful job and the demands of being a divorced single mom, Heather has little time for romance, preferring the familiar company of Dan… and the occasional Saturday night at the local BDSM club. But no Dom can compare to the man whose touch first awakened her hidden desires years before: none other than Dan himself…

For nearly a decade, the man believed to be the San Francisco Slasher has been behind bars, until a vicious killing all too similar to Christine’s forces the police to reopen the case, and Dan to confront all the fury and pain he thought he’d buried long ago. When the trail of the Slasher and Dan’s latest case converge and lead straight to the city’s BDSM community, he and Heather find themselves working intimately together, bringing their long-suppressed passion to the surface. But as they fight feelings stronger than friendship, the body count continues to climb, and the Slasher isn’t the only threat they face. Only together can Dan and Heather overcome the demons that have haunted them for so long, especially since the killer may be far closer to them than they ever imagined…

Goodreads / Amazon

Author Bio:

A proud Pittsburgh, PA area native, Siena Noble has explored and inhabited all kinds of fictional worlds through her writing since age ten. Although she’s always been a sucker for a good love story and possesses an incredibly dirty mind, she never imagined that her publishing debut would be erotic romance. What started as a silly short story idea quickly became something much bigger, a demanding Master of a manuscript whose every whim Siena submitted to.

When she’s not busy reading, writing, binge-watching Game of Thrones, or doing a million other important things, Siena enjoys traveling, archery, and getting lost in the woods (also known as “hiking”). She and her better half/writing buddy/sometimes Sir/sex muse live together in Pittsburgh. Their dream is to relocate to the middle of nowhere and build a castle capable of withstanding the impending zombie apocalypse.

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Book Blitz & GIVEAWAY Of Karma By K.T. Fisher

2018-06-22T00:00:00.000-04:00

WARNING EXPLICIT CONTENT

Book: Karma

Series: Kings Of Rebellion #1

Author: KT Fisher

Release Date: 14th June

Genre: Dark Erotic

Cover Designer: Louisa M Creations

Hosted By: Francessca’s Romance Reviews

Synopsis:

We first met Lauren in Rockstar’s Temptation, where she wasn’t the best sister to Maisy and tried to come between her and the man she loved.

Lauren doesn’t know why she is such a bitch, but she is. There is no use denying it or hiding it. She believes

in being who you are and f*** those who don’t like it. That also results in her not having many friends, if any, and not much family left. Even her boyfriend doesn’t want her anymore – well, he actually caught her in bed with his two friends and kicked her out. Her ex is pissed, and she soon realizes the hard way that she never should have betrayed him. Yet, pretty-boy Andrew isn’t as innocent as she thought. In fact, it turns out he’s connected to one of the biggest gangs in America.

Lauren is beaten and abused in every way possible. Her human rights are stripped, and she is treated like an animal. Blindfolded and gagged, Lauren has no idea what is going to become of her, or if she will ever get out of the mess she has found herself in.

Karma has finally caught up with Lauren Ashford, but is this the end, or can someone out there help her? Are there men strong enough, or even brave enough, to face up to her captors? When the toughest drug lords from Philadelphia come crashing into her kidnappers’ motorcycle club's cabin, they find a beautiful girl chained up to a wall and made to live like a dog on the hard floor. She’s not the only one, though: beside Lauren, there are two other girls. Even these hard criminals can see that this isn’t right. In their world, women are treated with respect.

From here, Lauren is given the greatest gift. To go home. Once back in the UK, Lauren is under the protection of the UK Kings of Rebellion crew and is shocked to find that even though they are dangerous, they treat her so much better. One of these men is Brandon, the oldest son and next in line to take over the family business. Is this the man that Lauren needs? Or do her old habits of being a “do now, think later” kind of bitch, come back to bite her in the ass?

One thing is for certain, the president of the motorcycle club, who took her, wants her back...

Add To Goodreads

Excerpt

Demon throws the door open, shoving me inside and locking it behind us. He slowly strolls into the middle of the room, his large frame is very intimidating and no, I can’t ignore the fact that he is sexy but that doesn’t change who he is. “You’re lucky that it was me who found you.” I look around the room, happy to see that there’s not as many guns on the desk than last time. “How so?” I ask.

I see the annoyance flash on his face. “Because if it was any of those other men out there, you would be naked, hung up and being raped repeatedly right now.” My eyes widen from the shock of his words and he nods. “And you’re better?” I dare to ask.

A devilish grin appears across his face. “No, I’m not saying that but you need to watch how you speak to me.” I nod in answer. “Now sit on the sofa.” I hesitate for a second but when I see the warning on Demon’s face, just daring me to disobey, I decide to take a seat. Demon quickly follows, standing over me. “How are you liking your new life with the Devil’s?” I’m shocked by his question, obviously I can’t say how much I hate it so I nod my head and smile. This makes him laugh down at me. “I think it’s time to give you your name.”

“I have a name.” I point out. “Lauren?” He asks and I shouldn’t be shocked. He is Andrew’s uncle after all. “No, I don’t like that.” He reaches for my hair and swirls it around his finger. “I love your shiny black hair, makes me want to pull it as I f... you from behind.” I gulp at his words. “That’s what I’ll call you.”

“What?” I’m confused. “Black hair?” Demons laughs loudly. “No! Your name is Raven.” He rakes his big hands through my hair, it feels so good and I hate the fact that I close my eyes and savor it. “See Raven, I think you could really enjoy life here. You just need to relax.” He crouches down in front of me. “If you let the club look after you and let me take care of all your needs, you will have such a happier life.” A happier life? Is this guy for real?

I don’t think this place is capable of providing a happy life for anyone, except maybe the members. Demon opens my legs and of course I do nothing to stop him. When he sees that I am naked under the skirt that was provided by Tracy, he smiles along with a groan. “See, you’re perfect.”

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I love reading, it's my favorite hobby. I've always had ideas for my own books packed into my head so I thought I would write them out for people to enjoy

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Blitz & GIVEAWAY Of Rising Tide By Susan Roebuck

2018-06-19T00:00:00.000-04:00

RISING TIDE

by Susan Roebuck

Contemporary Suspense

Published by Mundania Press on March 19th, 2015

Time, and most of Portugal, has almost forgotten Luminosa, a small fishing community on the Alentejo coast. A cluster of white and blue cottages huddle under the cliffs overshadowed by the great manor of Herdade Albatroz, whose family has ruled the village since the days of Napoleon.

Far off the tourist route, nobody visits Luminosa by chance.

When a ruthless American racketeer turns up, the peaceful village’s way of life could be ruined forever. But will other visitors—Piper Pines, seeking

news of her long dead Portuguese mother, and Leo Shine, bereft of a father and brother accused of terrible crimes—help or hinder his objective to drag Luminosa into the twenty-first century?

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EXCERPT

This morning, Leo clambered down the wooden staircase and

opened the door that was the inside entrance to the café. The only

things he desired right now were freshly baked bread and a coffee.

The café was empty except for a plump woman holding a straw

basket, her ankles so swollen they rose over her shoes and spilled

down the side like beer foaming over a glass. She turned as Leo came in, saying, “Good morning,” and her weathered face creased into a brown-tooth filled smile. “Welcome. I do hope you have a very

pleasant stay.”

His mind tumbled in confusion. Where did these people learn their

English? It wasn’t like everyone in the country spoke fluently. The

cab driver last night had stumbled and tottered over his words several times before he’d managed to convey to Leo he’d have to drop him at the top of the hill that led down to the village because he didn’t think his cab would get down the narrow street.

Unaffected by Leo’s lack of response, the woman continued, “Would

you like a coffee the likes of which you’ve never had before? Just the

way Serafim knows how to make it, thick, strong and short—a bit

like Serafim himself, but not so hairy.” The woman gargled what

could’ve been a chuckle. “One and a half cups and you’ll be

buzzing.”

“Sounds good to me,” Leo said as she threw a final laugh in Serafim’s direction before she placed what looked like jars of honey on the counter and then clattered through the chain curtain hanging at the door.

Leo turned to his primo behind the counter. Primo. God dammit,

families were people you had feelings for and the only people he

cared about had been wiped out by a rogue wave. In any case, Leo

didn’t think Serafim and he resembled each other in any way.

“Bica I presume?” Serafim asked, offering the tiny steaming cup of

coffee with an elaborate bow. In the fug of ground coffee-beans, tobacco, stale beer and wine, Leo held the tiny cup of thick brown liquid to his nose, inhaling deeply before adding three packets of sugar. The coffee began to work its magic, bringing a warm glow to his insides on a par with a gulp of brandy.

“We aim to please,” Serafim said, obviously reading Leo’s expression

correctly. The guy had attitude and Leo had to admit he liked it. Serafim wasn’t morose, nor a meathead, and probably neither were the guys in the bar last night because after Leo had turned in, he heard a coarse- voiced chorus from down- stairs which had lulled him off to sleep. “You speak good English,” Leo said.

“Practice, that’s all,” Serafim said, handing over a warm roll with

butter and jelly that, he told him was, “all homemade. If you want any ask Rosa, she’s my sister and the one who just left.”

So he’d just met another primo, had he? Rosa? Shame, he’d kinda liked her.

Author Bio:

Sue Roebuck was born and educated in the UK but she now lives in Portugal with her Portuguese husband. She has taught at various colleges and institutions in Portugal and her interest in dyslexia started with a discussion over lunch with a colleague and friend. Nowadays Sue’s mostly occupied by e-learning courses which, when no cameras are used, are also known as “teaching in your pajamas”. But, given a choice, writing would be her full-time occupation. Working from home presents no problem for her since her office window overlooks the glittering point where the Tagus River meets the Atlantic Ocean. The huge container ships, tankers and cruise liners which are constantly on their way in or out of Lisbon harbor are a great source of inspiration (or distraction). She has traveled widely through The States and believes that “being born American is like winning the lottery of life”. If she could live anywhere, she’d live in the Catskills in Upstate New York.

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Book Review #104 & GIVEAWAY - Hyacinth Girls By Lauren Frankel

2018-06-18T00:00:00.000-04:00

Synopsis:

A stunning debut about a young teenager on the brink and a parent desperate to find the truth before it's too late.

Thirteen year old Callie is accused of bullying at school, but Rebecca knows the gentle girl she's raised must be innocent. After Callie is exonerated, she begins to receive threatening notes from the girl who accused her, and as these notes become desperate, Rebecca feels compelled to intervene.

As she tries to save this unbalanced girl, Rebecca remembers her own intense betrayals and best-friendships as a teenager, when her failure to understand those closest to her led to tragedy. She'll do anything to make this story end differently. But Rebecca doesn’t understand what’s happening or who is truly a victim, and now Callie is in terrible danger.

This raw and beautiful story about the intensity of adolescent emotions and the complex identity of a teenage girl looks

unflinchingly at how cruelty exists in all of us, and how our worst impulses can estrange us from ourselves - or even save us.

My Take On This Book:

The story is about Rebecca, she is the guardian of a young girl named Callie, she is the young daughter of her cousin and best friend. As you read you discover parts of the story about how Rebecca came to be the guardian of Callie and part of the story of Callie as she is bullied or as she is a bully. The question of if Callie is the bully or is being bullied is what the story is about.

It starts off rather slow and the chracters in the book did not feel real to me, it was hard for to get ingaged with them and feel what they were feeling. It was very hard for me to finish the book, but I did manage to get through it. I myself did not care for the book and I very rarely dislike a book I have chosen to review, but this time was a first for me.

I received a free copy of this book for review from WaterBrook Multnomah Publishing Group, for my honest unbiased opinion.

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