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Monthly Archives: April 2017

Cover Reveal: Keeper of Souls by Casey Bond

Title: Keeper of Souls
Author: Casey Bond
Genre: Paranormal Romance, Horror
Cover Designer: Regina Wamba at Mae I Design & Photography
Editor: Stacy Sanford, The Girl with the Red Pen
Expected Release Date: May 19th, 2017
Blurb:
Carmen Kennedy finally feels normal. Enrolled in college, she’s making a few friends and taking life one day at a time. Her days are filled with classes, studying, and attempting to be more social, while her nights are filled with terrifying dreams. All of her nightmares have one thing in common: him. She can’t see his face, but a flash of dark feathers is all it takes to remind her of The Keeper of Crows. He isn’t supposed to be real.
There is a world that exists beneath the fabric of our own, a torturous place filled with despair. The Keeper is there; Carmen just has to find out why and if there is a way to help him leave that place. Her sanity and life will be threatened, but she can’t ignore his screams any longer.
When love exists, it doesn’t matter the distance. It finds a way to remind you.
Will love be enough to save Michael and Carmen when The Keeper of Souls stands in their way?
Award-winning author Casey L. Bond resides in Milton, West Virginia with her husband and their two beautiful daughters. When she’s not busy being a domestic goddess and chasing her baby girls, she loves to write young adult and new adult fiction.You can find more information about Bond’s books via the following links:

Buy Link:
Keeper of Crows:
http://amzn.to/2n1dkFH
 
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Posted by on 04/19/2017 in blog hops, Cover Reveal

 

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Hunter Claimed by A.M. Griffin

Hunter Claimed

Dark Wolf Enterprises, Book #3

Paranormal Romance

Release Date: April 25, 2017

Author: A.M. Griffin

Buy Link: http://ow.ly/vESy30ap9qe

Giveaway:

$20 Amazon Gift card April 25 – May 16, 2017

Rafflecopter:
a Rafflecopter giveaway

Blurb:

When Hunter and Asha’s worlds collide, neither is able to walk away from the other.

Asha has a simple plan for her life—her hopefully soon-to-be immortal life. All she’s ever wanted was to be so powerful that no one could ever hurt her again, and once she becomes a Vampire her dream will come true. Sure, being a Vampire’s protégé isn’t the easiest job a girl could have, but there are far tougher roads she could be walking, like following in her drug-addicted mother’s footsteps.

Hunter Arany hates Vampires, and with good reason. So when Dark Wolf Enterprises is forced to hire a group of the blood-suckers to find out who’s been stealing company money, he’s sure having them around will be a problem. He never figured it would the Vampires’ human servant who causes him the most trouble—trouble of the love and life-mate kind.

He’s hoping to convince Asha a brighter future exists in his arms, but old dreams fade slowly and can become living nightmares—of the dying kind.

Excerpt:

The automatic doors began to close.  “Welcome to Dark Wolf Enterprises,” Andras announced.

The doors reversed on their tracks, opening again. Another Vampire—Hunter sniffed at the air—no, not Vampire. She didn’t have the same floral scent as the others. Human.

Hunter hadn’t expected them to bring their food source to the company and from the telepathic cursing that Andras sent his way, neither had he.  “What is she doing here?” Andras pushed the thought to Hunter.

The air instantly thickened as the Shifters watched the female. The human wasn’t beautiful, not like the Vampires, but she was pretty. And while she didn’t have an intoxicating aroma, she smelled…nice. Her skin wasn’t the pale-ashen one of a Vampire’s, either. Her brown hue radiated with life and energy. Another dead giveaway that she was human? Her beating heart and shallow breathing. The Vampires had neither.

“I pray that she’s an accountant. I’m not watching them drink from her,” Hunter said.

He’d run into plenty of Vampire junkies before and this woman didn’t strike him as the type who would lust after a blood-sucker. While she wasn’t dressed in a business suit like the others, she still looked professional. Her dark hair fell smoothly past her shoulders. She wore it styled in a blunt cut—sharp bangs and sharp ends. She had on a cream, low-cut silk blouse that showed a hint of cleavage. His eyes were immediately drawn to her round and perky breasts. Accentuating her long and shapely legs was a dark blue pencil skirt that went to her knees and the matching blue heels.

“Trudy will freak if she finds out that we’re letting them feed here. Didn’t we forbid this in the contract?” Kristof asked.

While the others arranged themselves in a line, the human did as well, but positioned herself one step behind the Vampires. Her placement told him everything. She was part of the group, but not really. Hunter’s wolf had lingered at the front, ready to come forth and fight if needed. But this time, instead of growling in the back of his mind and being on edge, his wolf was having a different reaction.

Curiosity.

Hunter could picture the wolf’s nose sniffing and poking at the barrier that separated man from beast, trying to find out more about the human who stood by the Vampires. Odd, since his wolf had never been interested in a human before. Whenever Hunter had taken one to bed, the wolf showed his indifference by sleeping. Hunter didn’t try to push back, he let his wolf satisfy his curiosity and afterward he would focus his attention on the Vampires where it should be.

“Forgive us,” Andras said. “We weren’t expecting your…assistant to join you this evening. Our contract is very clear regarding this matter.”

The woman met Andras’ eyes. “I have a master’s degree in IT and accounting,” she replied. “When you hired us, you hired me, as well. Is there an issue here?”

Andras didn’t respond, but power radiated around him at the challenge.

Hunter stepped forward. Pretty or not, the woman wouldn’t disrespect his Alpha.

“Stop,” Andras commanded.

“But she—”

It’s a power play. The Vampires don’t allow their humans to do their talking. They want us to hurt her.”

“What? Why?”

“Because they are sadistic fucks,” Kristoff said.

 

Shifter Claimed: 0.99 FOR A LIMITED TIME ONLY!

Dark Wolf Enterprises, Book #1

Available Now!

Blurb:

The big break Trudy Hollander’s small accounting firm needs has finally arrived, but unfortunately it comes with murder, mayhem and Kristof Farkas, a man she just can’t seem to resist. Even worse, Kristof is the CFO of Dark Wolf Enterprises—the one person who can pull the plug on the job that will take her company to the next level.

Then there are the assassins who can jump from three stories up and still be able to run away…

Kristof has no intention of giving in to his inner wolf and claiming Trudy. She’s human. Too fragile to withstand being a shifter’s mate. But the need to protect her is stronger than his resolve, and his desire is more powerful yet. He’ll fight with everything he has to keep her safe, both from those who would hurt her, and from himself.

 

Buy Link: http://ow.ly/xPQP308Jd1D

 

Lover Claimed

Dark Wolf Enterprises, Book #2

Available now!

Blurb:

When Meisha comes home and finds a strange man in her kitchen, she does what any sensible person would do. She beats the crap out of him first, then asks questions after. When he explains her best friend is in mortal danger, Meisha knows the whole mess—including a recent murder and the threats on her friend’s life—may be her fault, and she’s determined to get to the bottom of it. And no sexy stranger is going to stop her.

 

Lajos Farkas isn’t expecting to meet a spitfire, martial artist when he’s on a mission to figure out who’s stealing from Dark Wolf Enterprises, and he certainly doesn’t expect her to insist on butting in on his investigation. But getting rid of Meisha is seemingly impossible, and when his wolf decides she’s his life-mate, suddenly he realizes he’ll do anything to keep her close and grow old with her.

 

If they can just stay alive long enough to make that possible.

 

Buy Link: http://ow.ly/WzIR308AkLk

 

Author Bio:

A.M. Griffin is a wife who rarely cooks, mother of three, dog owner (and sometimes dog owned), a daughter, sister, aunt and friend. She’s a hard worker whose two favorite outlets are reading and writing. She enjoys reading everything from mystery novels to historical romances and of course fantasy romance. She is a believer in the unbelievable, open to all possibilities from mermaids in our oceans and seas, angels in the skies and intelligent life forms in distant galaxies.

Where you can find me:

Website: http://www.amgriffinbooks.com/

Subscribe to my Amazon page: http://www.amazon.com/A.M.-Griffin/e/B00APK4V4G/ref=ntt_athr_dp_pel_1

Email: amgriffinbooks@gmail.com

Like me at: www.facebook.com/amgriffinbooks Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/amgriffinbooks Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/AMGriffinbooks Follow me on Instagram: amgriffinbooks

Subscribe my newsletter for updates giveaways: http://eepurl.com/TZzXv

 
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Posted by on 04/18/2017 in Promos

 

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Dark Alpha’s Lover by Donna Grant

 

Summary: There is no escaping a Reaper. I am an elite assassin, part of a brotherhood that only answers to Death. And when Death says your time is up, I am coming for you…

I answer to no one but Death. I am impenetrable, impervious, immortal. I exist to do Death’s bidding and no one–not Reaper nor human nor Fae–can stand in my way. Except for the bewitching half-Fae, Catriona. She swears the magic in her family passed her by, but I know better. This woman is strong. This woman is powerful. And when her abilities surge forth, no one will be able to stop the Dark Fae from coming for her. Except for me. I want to keep her close. I want to keep her safe. I want lose myself to her, again and again…

 

Excerpt:

Chapter One

Galway, Ireland

January

Nothing was ever as it seemed.

There were more than humans walking this earth. The things seen out of the corner of your eye were real, even if your mind refused to recognize—or accept—them.

But Catriona Hayes knew of their existence, even if she wished she didn’t. They were Fae. Magical creatures that were so beautiful they seemed otherworldly—because they were.

The Fae had come to this world, seamlessly integrating themselves into the lives of mortals. But then again, when it came to beings with magic, they could do such things.

Cat blew out a breath and put the day’s earnings in the pouch before placing it inside the safe and shutting the door. She straightened and looked through the windows of the café and across the street to the pub alight with merriment.

There was a bit of wistfulness within her when she spotted three women walking into the bar with bright smiles. She’d never been that carefree.

From the first moment she could remember, her family had kept her apart from others. It wasn’t until she was older that she realized what made her so different—she was a Halfling.

Part human, part Fae.

Some might rejoice at the news, but she wasn’t most people.

The first time her grandfather had told her of her heritage, she’d laughed, thinking it was a jest. But as they’d walked down the streets of Galway, he began pointing out the Fae.

That was the day her life changed. At eight years old, she’d felt the weight of the world drop upon her shoulders. The burden had nearly brought her to her knees. And it had lingered, growing heavier with each passing year.

Yet she remained standing beneath it all. Only because of her grandfather. The man who smiled in the midst of the many storms life threw his way. He was what kept her composed and mindful of the dangers of living near Fae.

While she had been fearful of her grandfather’s revelation, her older siblings had embraced it as a gift.

Cat looked down at the counter and the top that covered it. Beneath the thick glass, next to the register, was a picture of her with her brother and sister twenty years ago.

Whatever gift having Fae blood had given her siblings had been taken away in a cruel twist of Fate several months ago when they were savagely killed.

Her brother had been murdered in a crowded pub, while her sister had had her life snuffed out on a train to London. No one had seen either attack. One moment, her siblings had been alive. The next, they were dead. It was how Cat knew the Fae were responsible.

Only beings with magic and the ability to veil themselves could have committed such crimes without a single person catching something on their mobile phones.

Ever since her family’s deaths, she’d been waiting for the Fae to come for her.

What was taking them so long? She and her grandfather—who she kept locked safely away in his cottage where no Fae could enter—were the only ones left.

A flash of lightning pulled her from her thoughts and reminded her that she needed to get home. She started toward the front, turning off the lights as she went. Flipping the sign in the café window to CLOSED, she walked out the door and locked it.

When she faced the street once more, she gripped the handle of her purse and looked around at the people. She knew the Fae could use glamour to disguise themselves, though most preferred to remain beautiful. That made it easier to pick them out, but it did nothing to lessen Cat’s dread.

She remained in the doorway as a couple walked past her. The man said something to make the woman laugh. Cat’s heart caught because she couldn’t remember the last time she’d giggled like that—never mind actually being on a date.

Cat squared her shoulders and turned to the left. Her cottage was toward the outskirts of Galway. She couldn’t wait to get home where she could relax.

“Relax,” she snorted.

There was no such thing for her. While others brushed their cares away with a pint of ale and loud music, she would eat alone at her house and sleep with one eye open.

Being half-Fae had done nothing but make her life miserable. She’d gotten nothing else from it. Her sister, Nora, had been able to move objects with her mind. Her brother, Domhnall, could grow plants.

For some strange reason, magic had passed her over altogether. No matter how hard she tried, there didn’t seem to be a smidgen of magic within her.

Countless times, she’d asked her grandfather what she’d done to not have magic. He’d never quite answered her. In his usual way, he would tell a story about all the Halflings who lived without magic.

But she always suspected that he was keeping something from her.

No amount of conniving or posing the question different ways ever gave her another answer, though. With every year that passed, she was more and more sure that her grandfather was hiding something.

Cat tensed when she walked past a Fae talking to a mortal female. His silver eyes, black hair, and sex appeal were the biggest clues to what he was—Light Fae. At least, it wasn’t a Dark.

The Dark scared her the most with their red eyes. She shuddered just thinking about them.

She turned the corner and quickened her pace. Thunder rumbled the same time lightning zigzagged across the sky. More rain was on the way, but if she were lucky, she’d make it back to her cottage before it came.

Suddenly, she stopped. She didn’t know what had caught her attention, but something told her to go no farther. Her gaze roamed down the street as people milled about.

There was something in the air that draped over everything like a wet blanket. It took her a moment to realize what it was—fear. She looked at the humans and saw that none of them appeared to be affected.

Then she heard the footsteps coming, quickly. She saw the man running toward her and looking back over his shoulder. He passed beneath a streetlamp, and she saw his eyes—red.

But it was the terror on his face that surprised her. She hadn’t thought there was anything a Dark feared, but whatever was after this particular Fae must be frightening.

Her head told her to run, but her body refused to move. She remained where she was, even as a man appeared out of thin air in front of the Dark.

The Fae slid to a halt, his eyes wide. The man before him had long, white hair that was pulled away from his face by three small braids on each side of his head.

She had little time to process that before she saw the light glint off a blade. The sword sliced through the air and cut down the Dark, turning him to dust in an instant.

Shock reverberated through her as she involuntarily took a step back. What kind of weapon did he have that could kill a Fae?

Because she wanted one.

He took two steps away before he suddenly halted, his body stiffening. Then he gradually turned his head to look right at her. She couldn’t make out his face because of the shadows, but she knew he’d seen her.

And then, he disappeared.

She took another step back and hastily looked around, but there was no other sign of the white-haired man. Yet she knew she wasn’t alone.

He was there. She was sure of it. Just as she was sure the Fae would come for her soon.

Somehow, she managed to stand her ground. If she were going to die, she would do it with courage. Even if she was shaking. She wasn’t going to run, no matter how much she wanted to.

She felt something behind her a moment before the sound of footsteps reached her. Cat whirled around, ready to face the unknown stranger. But it was a Dark Fae who walked toward her.

“Shite,” she murmured and turned back around.

“Hiya, darlin’,” the Dark called. “What’s your hurry?”

She walked faster and said over her shoulder, “Long day.”

“Let me buy you a drink.”

“No, thanks.”

She waited for him to say more, and when he didn’t, she gave a sigh of relief. It wasn’t until she was in her cottage that she slumped against the door.

Another day gone.

Copyright © 2017 by Donna Grant and reprinted by permission of Swerve.

Review:

This is a great read. I couldn’t put it down. Really like the characters and world that Donna has created. It has some great twists and turns. Readers will be drawn into the story from the very beginning. It is definitely one to add to your TBR list. I look forward to reading more of Donna’s books.

Buy Links:

B&N Nook

Google Play

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eBooks.com

iBooks

Social Links:

Author Website

Facebook: @AuthorDonnaGrant

Twitter: @Donna_Grant

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Author Bio:

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Donna Grant has been praised for her “totally addictive” and “unique and sensual” stories. She’s the author of more than thirty novels spanning multiple genres of romance including the bestselling Dark King stories. The acclaimed series features a thrilling combination of dragons, the Fae, and Highlanders who are dark, dangerous, and irresistible. She lives with her two children, a dog, and four cats in Texas.

 

 

 

 

 
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Posted by on 04/18/2017 in blog hops, Reviews

 

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Cover Reveal: The Battle For Earth by AJ and CS Sparber

Title: The Battle for Earth  
Author: AJ & CS Sparber
Genre: YA/NA Paranormal Fantasy
Cover Designer: Regina Wamba at Mae I Design & Photography
Publisher: Mind’s Eye Press
Blurb:
The Jacuzzi tub is not quite up to Olympian standards, but the hot, churning water feels amazing. In a way, the turbulence reminds me of what my life has become. In little more than a year, I’ve gone from being a high school senior to an angel—a member of the angelic royal family, to be precise.
My transformation has brought with it a fair share of adventures—I killed a fallen angel. I healed my best friend from what would have been a fatal knife wound, turning her into an angel in the process. I fell in love with a Warrior angel, blissfully committing myself to him in a traditional angelic binding, only to see him nearly killed the very next day. Then I healed him—triggering a genetic change that made us the most powerful angels in existence. We are like two halves of a raging star. We are the most lethal creatures ever to walk the mortal worlds. We can fly like eagles, bend light to our will, and fill the sky with terrifying bolts of lightning. We hold the power of Thor’s hammer in our hands. We are the wrath of God. And it’s a good thing we are because fallen angels have declared war.
When it comes to being a husband and wife (or wife and husband) writing team, there are advantages, or benefits. Chief among them is that you get to practice the love scenes. He writes, she steers, and…well, it’s fun. He is a software designer and she is a doctor of education. AJ and CS Sparber live in the lovely town of Hudson, Ohio, with their son Ryan, their daughter Melanie, and the spirit of an Aussie shepherd named Hunter.
Author Links:
Buy Links:
Ariel Rising: http://amzn.to/1VWMKut
Chapter 12
Ari is Captured for the second time.
“There is nothing the Irish love more than a good story. But this…this tops them all,” Fiona says, as she pours me a second cup of coffee. Freshly showered and dressed comfortably in a halter top over spandex running pants, I scan my surroundings. The kitchen is small, but comfortable, and we’re still invisible behind a staged loop of security footage. I can’t help smiling at her enthusiasm, but its’s a bittersweet smile, because it’s nearly two in the morning, which means I get to play with Angela in about seven hours. “I’m not sure if I’ll be able to fight through the pain.”
Fiona leans forward, resting her elbows on the table. “I wish I could get you out of here tonight, but we need to take care of the implant. For our escape to succeed, you need to be at full strength.”
My patience is wearing thin. What if Fiona can’t get a remote? What if she can’t sneak a surgeon into my chambers? “How long before the security system comes back on?”
Fiona gives me a puzzled look. “I’m not sure. Any time between now and five o’clock. We’ll get a ten-minute heads up. Why do you ask?”
“I’m going to try to access my abilities.”
Fiona shakes her head vigorously. “That’s not a good idea, Ari.”
She’s probably right. I stand, crossing my arms over my chest. “So, are you going to help me or do I do this alone?”
“Ari, please…”
“I have to try.”
“You are one very headstrong angel,” she says with a smirk.
Sitting on the toilet lid, I stare at a small plastic wastebasket across the room. My objective is to knock it over without touching it, and in order to do that, I’ll need to use the Essence—which is going to trigger the implant, causing me a world of pain.
“You’ll never plow a field by turning it over in your mind,” Fiona says, with a smirk.
“Ha. You have no idea how much pain Angela’s little gizmo puts out. Now, quiet…I need to concentrate.”
Redoubling my efforts, I hyper focus on the basket. Breathe. I feel the familiar rush as the Essence collects in my cells, filling me with a pulsing energy—a force that begs to be released. But there is resistance. Something is impeding the outward flow, I think, as a wave of pain builds inside me. Thrusting a washcloth into my mouth, I bite down hard. A muffled roar rumbles from deep inside me as the pain intensifies. Fiona moves into my line of sight, her face twisted in panic. “Let it go, Ari! Release it…”
“Too much energy…MOVE” I shout, because I know it’s going to be bad. Really bad.
I release the beast inside me, because it can no longer be contained. Time slows down and I’m nothing more than a helpless observer, watching as the basket I’d been so intently focused on begins to vibrate. No, it’s not the basket…it’s the entire room. I scan my surroundings, trying to find Fiona, but a roiling cloud of debris obscures my vision. I made a hurriquake, I think, which causes me to giggle…and then an overwhelming sense of relief washes over me, because the pain is gone…and so is Fiona.
“Run, Ari!”
Fiona? I didn’t kill her!
I slowly rise to my feet, hanging onto the sink for support. Fiona is sitting, propped up against the far wall of the main room, pointing furiously behind me. I turn. People are jogging up the hall, past still bodies, toward me. I can see them because the wall is gone. What the…
A strong hand grips my arm and I pivot to break the vice-like grip, but I have no strength left. “Stay still or this will really hurt,” a chillingly familiar voice says.
“No!” I hear Fiona shout, but she’s being restrained by two huge angels. “Don’t hurt her!”
Before I can react or respond, a sharp prick causes me to flinch, as a needle enters the tender skin at the base of my neck.
“Goodnight, princess,” Eloy says with an evil chuckle.


 
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Posted by on 04/17/2017 in blog hops, Cover Reveal

 

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Orlosian Warriors series by Dariel Raye

ORLOSIAN WARRIORS series

Books 1 & 2

by Dariel Raye

Genre: Paranormal Romance/Urban Fantasy

CALM ASSURANCE

Two hearts, two different worlds, uncompromising love.

A straight-laced Nephilim-descendant and a human trouble-magnet?

When Asriel – Orlosian Warrior, descendant of Nephilim, law enforcer – is sent to guard Malina, a human with a penchant for drawing trouble like a tornado, she becomes his obsession.

With no hope of finding love in his dimension, he breaks the cardinal rule, leaving his home to protect her, but she has also drawn the attention of his enemies, and he is forced to face demons from his past. If Asriel chooses to stay with Malina, not only does he risk forfeiting his right to ever return to his dimension, but he will need her blood to survive.

DESTINY’S FAVOR

His world shifted the moment she was born. Now, nothing can stop him from making her his…

Imagine a man who looks like an angel, wings and all. What would you do if you met such a man, and he told you that he exists for only one purpose, to claim you and only you?

Destiny Carter is a feisty, take-charge, Rubenesque beauty with a tough façade. She finds herself caught in that age-old quandary of always being the bridesmaid but never the bride. A string of lackluster relationships leaves her hopeless and ready to settle for whatever comes along, until she meets Japheth, the man her fiancé claims is his best friend. Japheth’s arrival is heralded by an attack on Destiny’s life, but somehow, from some instinct deep within her, she knows this is only the beginning.

Born more than 200 years ago, Japheth looks like an angel, but he’s far from it. In his world, the ratio of men to women is 500 to 1, and although he’s a superior being, he’s willing to break the most sacred law of his brothers, even to drink human blood, if it means having the one that he believes is meant for him alone. When he meets Destiny, he knows she’s the one he’s been searching for. To claim her, though, Japheth will have to betray a friend, risk his life, and, perhaps hardest of all, humble himself enough to win her love.

Still too far away to get a good look at the legendary J, Destiny watched the two men pull each other into a brief man hug. As she did, her mind wandered back to her conversation with Memaw: “Destiny, you be extra careful the next few days, okay? Memaw’s got a feeling.” She wondered what all the sudden drama was about, especially since she was always careful. The older woman was always right, though, so she couldn’t help glancing around cautiously as she walked. Memaw had said those same words to her the night she was attacked, so it was always good to heed her advice, always better to be safe than sorry.

J bent to pick up his one bag, and before she could even close the gap between them, they were heading back toward her.

Destiny overheard part of their conversation as they neared: “Man, I know it’s after two and all, but I’ve never seen people sleepin’ at a bus station like this before. I swear, everybody’s laid out but you.” She also couldn’t help but notice J’s striking gait as he stalked closer, almost graceful but with a natural swagger. All jungle cat in a man’s body, was the only thought that came to mind. Realizing that she was staring far too much, she dragged her gaze from Robert’s friend and surveyed the station, but she was still hesitant to stop admiring him. Something about the way he moved sent a jolt of energy rushing through her, punching her guilt button in the process. Surely, she and Robert were not a match made in Heaven, but that certainly didn’t make it okay to have the thoughts she was having about his best friend.

Even during that beautiful season of the year, the dreary bus station looked and felt dank, grim, and hopeless. The floodlights, although strategically placed, barely pierced the darkness, and the skinny trees left over from the last time anyone cared reminded her of how she really felt about being alone.

A sudden blur of movement caught Destiny’s attention as they walked on, and fear and nausea invaded her, welling up from their hiding places. A tall, dark figure rushed toward her, his hands reaching out like claws, eager to grab her. Time stood still as waves of nausea struck, rendering her unable to move, a predicament she’d never found herself in until that reality-changing attack.

Destiny stumbled and fell to the ground. Every one of her survival instincts kicked in, and she was ready to fight if necessary, but just as quickly as the shadow appeared, it was gone. The station was eerily quiet and still again, and she found herself standing there, with no memory of getting up from the ground. She glanced around, checking all sides, then turned to face Robert and J as they stopped in front of her as if nothing had happened.

“Baby, this is Japheth Danaelson, J. J, this is Destiny Carter, my fiancé,” Robert casually said.

She tried to dismiss the hazy monster as nothing more than a flashback, but subconsciously, she knew better; Destiny was convinced that something really had just tried to attack her again, even if it did stop in its tracks and vanish. Despite her disorientation, wobbly knees, and the feeling that she had somehow skipped through time, and despite the fact that her mind was now reeling with doubt over what she’d just seen, Japheth’s presence overshadowed everything else. Up close, he was absolutely breathtaking.

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Dariel Raye is an animal lover, animal rights activist, musician, and award-winning author of powerful paranormal romance and dark urban fantasy with IR/MC (Interracial/Multi-cultural) alpha male heroes to die for, and strong heroines with hearts worth winning. She fell in love with books and started reciting stories at the age of 3. A counseling psychologist, classically trained vocalist, and pianist, she plays over 11 musical instruments, and naturally incorporates behavioral psychology into her characters. Her stories tell of shifters, vamps, angels, demons, and fey (the Vodouin variety). She is also a Netflix paranormal TV series binger.

Dariel is currently writing two series: “Dark Sentinels” (wolf shifters), and “Orlosian Warriors” (Vampire-like Nephilim). For more about Dariel, follow her blog or visit her website. She also publishes a new release newsletter. If you enjoyed this book, please post a review on review sites. You can also follow her and contact her on Twitter, Facebook, or Pinterest.

 
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Posted by on 04/14/2017 in blog hops, Promos

 

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Grimm Remains by Eli Celata

Grimm remains.jpg

Blog Tour ~ Grimm Remains
Author: Eli Celata
Genre: Urban Fantasy/Paranormal
Dates: 11th – 21st of April
Hosted by: Ultimate Fantasy Book Tours

cover.jpg

Blurb:
Sometimes the fairy tale’s end is just the Grimm beginning.

Mammon’s summoning turned Rochester into a beacon for the denizens of Hell. As demon activity increases, Jon settles in for a new academic year, and Jordan moves in as the city’s protector. Unfortunately, the young warlock of Rochester might not be around long if the Devil’s marine legion has a say. Havfine, demonic mermaids, don’t often leave deep lakes and ocean waters. They’re better known for drowning mortal sailors than hunting magic users, but something has sent them upstream from Lake Ontario. When three orphans vanish from a magical sanctuary in Toronto, their caretaker – the Wizard Monday – dredges up a part of Jordan’s and Jon’s father’s history that Jordan would have rather forgotten. In this race against the Bane of Hamelin, more than three souls may be on the line.

313a6-addtogoodreads

Review:

It was a great read. I couldn’t put it down. I really like the characters and world that Eli has created. It has some great twists and turns. Readers will be drawn into the story from the beginning. I look forward to reading more of Eli’s books.

 

↓Buy Links↓
https://www.amazon.com/Grimm-Remains-Warlock-Rochester-Book-ebook/dp/B06XW6XMSC
Author Bio:

eli-celata

Eli Celata was born in Rochester and is currently attending Binghamton University as a doctoral student.

Author’s Social Media Links:
Twitter: @Celata_E
Website: elicelata.wordpress.com
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/EliCelata/
Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/Eli-Celata/e/B01J6S0AY2

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Posted by on 04/12/2017 in blog hops, Book Blitz

 

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Nightmares Rise (Dark Shores Trilogy Book 1) by Mirren Hogan and Erin Yoshikawa

Nightmares Rise is the first book in the Dark Shores Trilogy. It is a great book. I had the wonderful opportunity to edit this project and work with these two ladies. Who are great to work with. I wish them all the success in the world. Below is an excerpt and interview with the two of them. Check out the book and pick up a copy you won’t be disappointed. 🙂

Excerpt

His next words were cut off by the sound of a woman screaming. It echoed through the trees from somewhere uncomfortably close.
Makani turned towards the scream, “Let’s go!” She darted up and grabbed branches and roots to keep balance, heading straight to the entrance of the trail. But instead of crossing the stream back to the jeep, she started through the bamboo grove, the sound of Flynn’s footsteps right behind her.
“There, just up ahead,” he hissed, making her jump.
She slowed down, careful to keep her knife at the ready. Her feet were nearly silent, even on the thick covering of dead leaves. Just through the grove, in a clearing to the side that opened up to a small off-shoot of the stream.
Laying on the mud and rocks, was something that might once have been a person. A woman. Bent over it, was something completely different from the things they had seen in the cave.
“What the hell?” she whispered as she tightened her grip on the knife.
“What is this, the bloody Hell-mouth?” Flynn had stepped up beside her. She could see his face whiten in the corner of her eye.
“What is it? Will salt even work?” Before she could stop him, he brought the salt up and flung it, sending a spray of crystals through the air.
The creature turned reptilian eyes at the two, and its mouth gaped wide. Sharp teeth, still coated liberally with the gore and blood that had been its victim, gnashed and clawed fingers gripped the ground. Its head was indented into a bowl, and it held water that sloshed over the side and ran over its face. The salt, unfortunately, didn’t do anything. It just made the creature very upset.
“Flynn! Go!” She pushed at him, urging him up into the bamboo grove and off the trail. Makani searched her mind for what she might be seeing, but couldn’t quite think of what it was. She looked behind them, but the creature had disappeared. “Oh, no…”
Flynn started off at a run but skidded to a halt after a few steps. “Oh no what? Makani? Oh no what?”
She pushed him again, going the opposite direction. “Just split up! Keep quiet! Get away from the water! Now!” She maneuvered herself between the bamboo, narrowly avoiding the broken stalks that jutted up. She made as much noise as she could, keeping herself in line with the trail that split the grove up the side of the valley.
He went the other way, in the direction of the jeep.
She moved high up the hill, keeping her ears open for anything. Makani knew the stories, having heard them as a kid running up and down the valley with her siblings. She would never have believed them, though. Not in a million years. But faced with this thing, after everything they had seen… what else lived on this island?

Have you been writing for a long time?

Erin: Maybe? I recall starting a lot of stories but never finishing them. The first time I finished a story, I was 11. The first time I finished a story well, I was 15.
Mirren: I’ve always written. I’m not sure I’ve always written well, but that’s the point of practicing and growing.

What inspired you to start a writing career?

Erin: Twilight. No, seriously – if not for the success of the series and subsequent trends in writing and readership, I would never have considered dipping my toes in the water. That, and Mirren gave so much of herself to get things going for both of us. Without her support and legwork, nothing would have gotten out of the water.
Mirren: That’s pretty much how our collaboration started, yes. We were discussing the popularity of that and also 50 Shades of Grey and that we’d certainly write things differently. I’d never claim to be trying to be better than anyone, but we wanted to write something our way, but have wide appeal. I think we’ve done that with this series.

Is this book a stand-alone or part of a series?

Erin: Nightmares Rise is book one of a trilogy. And, if the winds blow the right way, there may be a companion book to them. Keep your eyes peeled!
Mirren: What Erin said. Book 2, Shadows Deepen should be out in early 2018.

Why did you choose this genre?

Erin: The genre chose the book. Actually, there were a few factors. First, romance comes naturally, which is ironic. Second, being raised in Hawaii meant I was constantly surrounded by stories about the supernatural. It’s just a part of the collective culture that comes with so many people mingling in a confined space. Those stories live on long past the teller or the culture that birthed them. It seemed only right to bring these spooky beings back to life in the modern world.
Mirren: We also wanted an exotic location which was familiar to one of us. Where in the world is more exotic and appealing than Hawaii? And the genre fit in afterward.

Do you have any advice for aspiring authors?

Erin: Just keep writing.
Know that every story has already been told already but not by you, so it’s worth telling.
Your vices will be your constant companion through the process. Try to develop some that are healthy.
Nothing comes from a vacuum.
Be prepared to work hard: finishing a story is tough but editing your own work is harder. And finding someone to publish it is even worse! But if you believe in your story, it deserves to be released into the world.
A strong support system comprised of anyone who will listen and give honest feedback is absolutely necessary. They may not always say what you want to hear but they will assist your growth in vital ways.

Mirren: I agree with all of that, plus read, read, read and read some more. It’s the best way to train your mind to understand the methods used to put together a good story. Also you can see what you think doesn’t work and avoid that in your own work.

Buy Nightmares Rise – Amazon

Author links

Erin Yoshikawa

Erin Yoshikawa’s author page- https://www.facebook.com/erin.yoshikawa.author/?ref=ts&fref=ts

Mirren Hogan

Website: Mirrenhogan.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MirrenHoganAuthor/?ref=bookmarks
Twitter: @MirrenHogan
Blog: https://mirrenhoganblog.wordpress.com
Mailing list: http://eepurl.com/cA1PCb

 
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Posted by on 04/10/2017 in blog hops

 

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Bear with Me by Jennifer Blackstream

 

Bear With Me

(The Blood Realm Series, #)
by Jennifer Blackstream

 

 

 

Blurb:

Betrayal. Redemption. True love.

A beautiful bard looking for her voice

After witnessing her mother’s murder left her blind, Leta had to put away her sword and her dreams of becoming a bard. Now she is resigned to a calm life where the best she can hope for is a good marriage that will take the burden of her care from her father’s shoulders. When her father claims the gods have sent a man to be not just her husband, but perhaps her savior, Leta has to take a leap of faith…and hope she falls in love.

A handsome prince trapped in the body of a bear

Torben is a bear shifter struggling to pass a test laid on him by his power-hungry stepmother. Bound into his beast form during the day, able to be human only at night when the darkness hides him, he must find a wife. She can know him only as a bear and a bodiless voice in the night. For one year, she must let him keep his secrets, trust him as a wife should trust her husband. But what woman will climb into bed with a bear and trust it is a man waiting for her?

Even a blind woman can see when something is worth fighting for…

Available to

Excerpt

 

 A hand settled on her fingers. Heavy, and a little rough, it engulfed her entire hand. She swallowed hard, took in a slow breath, and raised her teacup with a shaking hand, trying not to spill it in her haste to take a sip. It smelled like the tea her aunt had concocted for her, and if the gods were kind, it would have the same effect. She just needed her body to calm down, to stop shaking, and blushing, and everything else. Then she could think. Then she could be logical.“How are you feeling?” Torben’s voice was gentle, his baritone soothing in its increasing familiarity. He gently lifted her hand from his shoulder and cradled it in his.

The warm liquid flowed down her throat, and a tingling rush of magic spread through her body, working into her muscles, seeking out tension and melting it away. She took another large sip, swallowed before taking a deep breath. Her hands stilled and the burning in her cheeks ebbed, leaving her clearheaded, calmer. “Better.” She allowed herself a moment to gather her thoughts, then turned her head in the direction her aunt’s mentor had spoken from. “Mother Strongoak?”

“I’m right here, child.”

“Could you hold my tea?”

“Of course.”

She couldn’t tell for certain, but Leta thought she heard a smile in the witch’s voice. As Leta had asked, she took the teacup, freeing Leta’s other hand. Torben was close enough that his body heat pressed against her like a warm summer day, and she had no problem discerning his direction. “May I touch your face?”

A flicker of tension passed through him—surprise, perhaps. Then he took her other hand and put both of them on either side of his face. It was much higher than she’d expected, and the muscles in her arms pulled as she stretched to keep contact.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

He shifted beneath her hands, slouching so she could reach him more easily. His head was large, combining with everything else to paint the picture of a very big man. The tea in her belly held her in a protective bubble, letting her mind chew over that information without her body’s panicked input. She ran her thumbs over his cheekbones, appreciating his strong bone structure. His face was rough with the beginnings of a beard, and she smiled a little as it tickled her palms.

Her smile seemed to inspire one of his own, and the muscles of his cheeks flexed beneath her hands. She feathered a finger over velvety-soft lips, then slid her hands over his jaw, up the back of his head.

“Your hair is short.”

“Does that surprise you?”

“It does.” She furrowed her brow. “I’m not sure why. I suppose I just expected you to be more…”

“Shaggy?” he suggested dryly.

She cleared her throat. “Er, yes. I suppose.”

She toyed with the short strands of his hair a bit, then slid her hands back down the sides of his face. His neck was thick, and her hands barely made it halfway around. She’d just opened her mouth to comment on that when her hands fell to his shoulders. She froze. Seconds ticked by as a piece of information surfaced in her mind, conveniently forgotten until just now. The bare skin she’d touched. She suddenly knew with absolute clarity he was not wearing much, if any, clothing. Emotions battered against the wall of tea protecting her from physical reactions.

“Leta? Are you all right?”

“That wasn’t your hip I touched,” she croaked. “That was your shoulder, wasn’t it?”

A tiny laugh exploded into the air, followed by a snort from Mother Strongoak. Leta thought she heard Torben growl, but the sound stopped before she could be sure.

“Torben?”

It took him a moment to respond, as if he were glaring at the room’s other occupants and was reluctant to stop. “Yes?”

“Exactly how…tall are you?”

There was silence then, thick with expectation. Her hands still rested where they’d frozen on his shoulders, and his muscles tightened beneath her fingertips.

“A little over seven feet,” he said finally.

There was hesitation in his voice, a sliver of doubt. Leta pressed her lips together and raised her hands to cradle his face, forcing him to look at her.

“How much is ‘a little over seven feet?’”

His jaw clenched, then relaxed. “Eight foot two.”

It was a tribute to the tea that her heart barely skipped a beat. “Eight foot two? As in…eight feet and two inches?”

“Give or take.”

“Give or take what?” She slowly lowered her hands into her lap and leaned back on the couch. Part of her burned to ask him why he was shirtless, probably pantless, but she couldn’t quite bring herself to make that a part of the conversation.

“Are you all right?”

Something in his voice pulled at her heartstrings. More hesitation, a little shade of fear. He’s waiting for you to be afraid of him.

The thought caught her by surprise, and she sat up straighter. “I’m not afraid of you.”

“I told you,” Mother Strongoak muttered.

Torben made a chuffing sound in his chest that might have been irritation, but she couldn’t be sure. She clenched her hands into fists.

“I know very well what I must seem like to you,” she said calmly. “Feeling about as I walk, shuffling along. Having panic attacks for no apparent reason. Leaping into marriage with a perfect stranger—a perfect non-human stranger.” A glimmer of her old flame burned to life inside her, and she jutted her chin out.

“This is not who I am. Before my mother died, I was going to be a bard. I was going to travel everywhere—alone. I trained for years with different weapons, learned how to survive in the wilderness if I had to. I was very independent.”

“Indeed,” Mother Strongoak agreed. “I did so enjoy seeing you perform competitively as well. Always worth it for a chance that some sore loser would get into a snit, and then lure you into one of those delightful duels.”

Leta waited for Torben to comment on the “duels,” ask if she’d really engaged in combat, but he didn’t. He probably hadn’t even entertained it as a possibility. “This is not who I am,” she said again.

 

Review:

This is a great read. I couldn’t put it down. I really like the characters and world that Jennifer has created. It has some great twists and turns. Readers will definitely want to add it to their TBR lists. I look forward to reading more of Jennifer’s books.

The Blood Realm Series
 


About The Author
 
 
Jennifer Blackstream is a USA Today bestselling author of fantasy/paranormal romance. Urban Fantasy will soon be joining her repertoire, and if she doesn’t get hold of the insidious roving gang of plot bunnies, there’s going to be steampunk sprinkled in there too…
To date, Jennifer has two series:
BLOOD PRINCE SERIES (COMPLETE):
Book 1 – Before Midnight
Book 2 – One Bite
Book 3 – Golden Stair
Book 4 – Divine Scales
Book 5 – Beautiful Salvation
Bonus Adventures in the Blood Prince World:
Book 2.5 – What Big Teeth You Have (free when you sign up for mailing list mentioned below)
Book 4.5 – The Pirate’s Witch
Book 5.5 – Dead to Begin With (available only between Thanksgiving and whenever Jennifer takes her Christmas tree down)
BLOOD REALM SERIES (IN PROGRESS SPIN-OFF OF BLOOD PRINCE SERIES):
Book 1 – All for a Rose
Book 2 – Blue Voodoo
Book 3 – The Archer
For news, new releases, and a free copy of What Big Teeth You Have, sign up for Jennifer’s mailing list.
Jennifer has unfailing affection for the authors who have influenced her, including Laurell K. Hamilton, Jim Butcher, and the sorely missed Sir Terry Pratchett. Her books include humor, romance, and action, with enough darkness to keep things very interesting.
When Jennifer isn’t writing, she can be found re-watching Boondock Saints, Noises Off, or Gross Pointe Blank. With one of those classics in the background, she might also be searching Amazon for something she wants, but doesn’t need (Is there any such thing as a kitchen gadget that isn’t an absolute necessity? And don’t even get me started on office supplies…).
You can find Jennifer at 
 
         

Giveaway

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Posted by on 04/10/2017 in blog hops, Promos

 

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All Who Wander Are Lost by Bruce Blake

ALL WHO WANDER ARE LOST

Icarus Fell series, book 2

by Bruce Blake

Genre: Urban Fantasy

If we’re good, we go to Heaven; if we’re bad we go to Hell. No one wants to go to Hell.

Except one man who wishes people would just remember to call him Ric.

In the aftermath of a serial killer’s murderous spree, souls who didn’t deserve damnation went to Hell. The archangel Michael doesn’t seem concerned, but Icarus Fell can’t bear the guilt of knowing it’s his fault they ended up there.

But how can he save them when the archangel forbids him from going and his guardian angel refuses to help?

The answer comes in the form of another beautiful, bewitching guardian angel who offers to be his guide. They travel to Hell to rescue the unjustly damned one by one, but salvation comes at a cost and the economy of Hell demands souls.

Is it a price Icarus is willing to pay?

Chapter One

When your guardian angel and her friend, the archangel Gabriel, tell you to stay put, it’s probably a good idea to listen.

I should have, but I have inexplicable difficulty with authority figures. It gets me in trouble. A lot.

An old Buick sat to the right of my motel room door looking like it hadn’t moved in a decade or so, and it certainly hadn’t budged since I checked in; a few other cars were parked in the motel’s lot but there were no people. I stepped across the threshold and closed the door behind me, the click of the lock firecracker-loud in the winter night.

I paused. Still no one around. I breathed deep and stepped away from the door, the first time I’d been outside the dingy, musty-smelling room in weeks.

A month ago, the police found a tranny prostitute named Dante Frank dead on a bed in a five-star hotel, hairy chest and hairless vagina exposed for the world to see along with the biblical references his killer carved in his flesh. Dante, whom I’d known as Danielle Francis, was the last victim of the serial killer dubbed the Revelations Reaper by the media. The police had a suspect in the string of killings: me.

I didn’t kill any of them but, if the truth be told, their deaths were on me.

Forget the angels telling me to stay indoors, the fact the local news had been flashing an unflattering picture of my face on the screen every night until a week ago should have kept me inside my seedy room. But you know what they say about common sense…it ain’t so common.

Icarus Fell: living proof.

I didn’t think that because they finally stopped plastering my face all over the six o’clock news they’d stopped looking for me. Every cop in the city likely still carried my picture like they were at war and I was their girl waiting for them back home, but after four weeks in my motel-room-prison, the prospect of remaining inside held as little appeal as being girlfriend to a bunch of cops. I’d spent every moment of the last month thinking about my role in the deaths, wishing things were different. Another minute trapped alone with my guilt might prove one too many.

I slipped away from the motel and down a side street, disappearing in shadows and down alleys wherever I could. The taste of impending snow in the early December air fortified my lungs.

As I ranged farther from the motel, the garbage strewn on the streets and graffiti tags spray-painted on walls — ‘Big Turk Wuz Hear’ and other poetic gems — became less frequent until they disappeared completely. I’d made my way to a neighborhood where people cared, a fact which should have rang alarm bells in my head and made me more careful, but the lack of hookers and drug dealers lifted my spirits and my worry ebbed taking caution along with it.

Dumb ass.

I paused at the intersection, the lights of an approaching car reflecting on the frost-rimed pavement as I waited to be sure it would obey the stop sign. Without the fresh air loosening my wits, I’d have waved him through, but freedom made my head light in the way of a non-smoker after a few drags on a cigarette. The car’s brakes squeaked as it rolled to a halt. I stepped off the curb and raised a hand in thanks, squinting against the lights, but couldn’t see the driver. Hand replaced in pocket, I continued on my way, thinking nothing of it until I heard the hum and chatter of a power window in need of repair.

“Hey, you.”

The words weren’t spoken with the timbre of someone in need of directions. The caution and worry the beautiful night had leeched from me flooded back; I quickened my pace.

“Stop.”

I broke into a run before his engine roared and tires chirped. Cutting across a well-manicured lawn, I hopped a fence, ran through a back yard dominated by an inter-locking brick patio and an in-ground pool emptied for the winter, then vaulted another fence into a rear lane, cursing my stupidity with every step.

Despite a house between us, I heard the car’s engine rev and labor as the driver gave chase. I dove through a line of tall shrubs, their branches scratching my face, and into another yard, keeping my flight to places the car couldn’t go. Ten minutes of fence-jumping and shrub-diving later, I emerged on a sporadically lit street. Familiar graffiti scrolled across the side of a building; Big Turk and his poor spelling were back. Close to my motel. My lungs labored, the cold air hurting my chest instead of refreshing it as a stitch in my side dug in and grabbed hold. I stopped to catch my breath, bent at the waist, hands grasping knees like the world’s worst marathoner run out of steam, but rest didn’t last long. A siren wailed behind me and I forced my legs back into action.

I darted into an alley and the all-too-familiar stink of garbage and piss, depression and decay hit me immediately. I’d lost so many days and nights of my youth in alleys like this, sleeping off a bottle of vodka or poking a needle in my arm. I forced the thought from my mind. This was no time to self-analyze by way of shitty memories.

Tires screeched at the mouth of the alley. I didn’t look back, my attention taken by a figure stepping out of the shadows into my path. A Carrion, I assumed–a human-shaped demon sent to collect souls and make my life difficult–but I quickly realized the silhouette was smaller and more feminine, leaving two possible people. Angels, really. I halted a few paces beyond arm’s-reach in case I was wrong.

“Hey, mister. Long time, no see.”

I recognized the voice immediately. The angel stepped into the light and I saw her gingerbread hair, glimpsed the freckled skin of her cheek.

“Gabe.”

The Archangel Gabriel is the messenger. She brings scrolls with my assignments inscribed on them: who’s scheduled to pass, where, when, and where to take them when it’s done.

I couldn’t think of a worse time for her to show up.

“Did you miss me?”

Her pure voice echoed off the alley walls and a chorus of swallows which always accompanied her, but that I couldn’t see in the dark, chirped and chittered on a fire escape overhead.

“Don’t have time right now, Gabe,” I said breathlessly and glanced over my shoulder. The alley remained empty, but it wouldn’t for much longer.

“Here.”

She offered a scroll which hadn’t been in her hand a second before.

“Really, Gabe? I don’t–” I gestured toward the alley at my back, offered a pleading look. She shook the scroll at me and raised an eyebrow.

I’d learned the hard way that harvesting wasn’t the kind of job you could slack off at; the hard way seems to be how I learn pretty much everything. I gave in without any real fight.

My finger brushed hers as I grasped the rolled parchment and an electric charge prickled the hairs on my arm, bringing with it a longing to spend time with her, to be in her presence as long as possible. I nearly forgot the man chasing me.

“Gabe, I–”

She smiled and shrugged. “You don’t have time, remember?”

Swallow wings beat the air above my head as she walked away. I stared after her for a second before pulling myself from the angel-induced stupor to look at the scroll in my hand. This was my second assignment since everything went down: the deaths, the media frenzy, the explosion at the church. What happened to souls during my seclusion? Did they make other arrangements or were they okay with everyone going to Hell for a few weeks while I got my wits about me? Great vacation for me, but kind of sucked for everyone else.

Unrolling the scroll unnerved me. After being given one inscribed with my son’s name, I couldn’t help but hold my breath. Probably would every time I did it.

Shaun Williams.

I set my captive breath free. Didn’t know him. The address scrawled on the yellowed parchment wasn’t familiar either, but I knew the city well enough to recognize it was close. I read the time of death, then checked my watch.

Two minutes from now.

The sound of shoes hammering pavement reverberated off the alley’s brick walls. I got my legs moving again and took a corner, feet tangling in a pile of garbage bags and spilling me to the pavement. My shoulder hit hard and I skidded a couple of feet along the damp ground, filth snow-plowing onto my jacket. I scrambled to my feet, glanced ahead and behind as the footsteps grew louder, and realized the futility of my flight. Facing my pursuer seemed the only option. Maybe I could talk my way out of it before my appointment came and went.

Damn it.

Bad things happen to good people when I miss appointments. And to bad people; also, the Swiss.

I backed down the alley and didn’t have to wait long for the man chasing me. He rounded the corner, avoided the garbage bags which had tripped me, and skidded to a halt in a pool of light cast by a security light mounted high overhead. The dress pants he wore looked a year or so beyond their best-before date; a long wool coat covered a rumpled dress shirt which may never have made a dry cleaner’s acquaintance. I might have noticed more but the gun in his hand distracted me.

“Mr. Fell,” he said between panted breaths. “If that’s really your name.”

“It’s the name the bastard gave me,” I muttered glancing from gun to a face I’d met a few times and seen many more on the news. The muscles in my jaw clenched and released as I silently counted the passing seconds in my head. “We seem to meet under awkward circumstances, don’t we, Detective?”

“Sometimes happens between serial killers and cops.”

“I didn’t kill anyone.”

“Right.” He leveled the gun, his eternally tired eyes unwavering. “And I’m Serena Williams. Put your hands behind your head.”

A little firework went off in my brain, interrupting my mental countdown. He obviously wasn’t Serena Williams — wrong sex, wrong skin color, and he didn’t look like much of a tennis player — so why pick her out of a thousand possible celebrities to use sarcastically? I chanced pissing him off and stole a peek at my watch: t-minus one minute. My gut wrenched one twist to the right.

If I don’t get out of here quick–

The thought cut off half-formed, bullied aside by another. The detective was the lead investigator in the Revelations Reaper case, the guy the newscasts interviewed no matter how uncomfortable he looked on camera, so I’d seen his face a hundred times on TV. And every time they showed him offering his oft-quoted ‘no comment’, they emblazoned his name on the screen in white letters.

How did I miss it?

Detective Shaun Williams.

I raised an eyebrow. “Detective Williams?”

“Yeah, that’s right. Now that we’ve been properly introduced, put your fucking hands behind your head before I shoot you.”

I peered past him, then to both sides. With his name on the scroll in my back pocket, there had to be someone waiting to ambush this man scheduled to die in about forty-five seconds.

“You need to get out of here,” I said, eyes still searching the shadows. “You’re in danger.”

“Me?” He stretched his arm toward me, pushing the barrel closer. “If you don’t get your hands up right now, you’ll never walk again.”

The seconds ticked off in my head, echoing down the hallways of my mind. I gritted my teeth, fought the compulsion to try and save him.

Not my job.

They sent me to retrieve his soul after his death, not prevent it. But so many already died because of me and my poor choices. Maybe this was an opportunity to make amends–with myself, if no one else. My eyes found his and held his gaze for a second; I didn’t have much more than that.

“You’ll thank me for this later,” I murmured and darted toward him, moving faster than he expected an out-of-shape-almost-forty guy like me could.

He squeezed the trigger but I was on him before he got the shot off. The gunshot nearly deafened me, the explosion echoing through my head, ringing in my ears. My arms encircled him, pinning his at his sides, and inertia carried me forward, driving him to the ground. Breath whooshed out of his lungs when we hit, but I didn’t let go.

“This is for your own good,” I said into his ear. His body jerked but my grip held. The last few seconds counted down in my head.

Five…four…three…two…one.

When I reached zero, I held on a few seconds longer in case my timing was off or my watch was slow. Nothing happened. No gunshot, no one jumping from the shadows; a grand piano didn’t drop from a balcony. Nothing.

I leaned back, a hand on his gun arm to prevent him from shooting me. Some thanks that would be for saving his life. I gripped his wrist expecting him to squirm away, but he didn’t. His lack of movement should have tipped me something was wrong, but I was too concerned with making sure we weren’t about to be attacked to notice. Nothing moved in the shadows, no one approached down the alley.

Could the scroll have been wrong?

Unlikely, but it happened before, when other forces manipulated events. How did I know the same wasn’t the case this time?

I didn’t.

A small movement caught my eye and I looked left to see a figure standing five yards away. Fear forced bitter, electric saliva into my mouth like I’d bitten down on a piece of aluminum foil, and I snatched the gun from Detective Williams’ hand, jerked it toward the silhouette. The man didn’t react, but simply stood watching. His presence made a knot form in my stomach which worked its way quickly into the back of my throat. The figure stepped forward into the light and the muscles in my forearm tensed, my finger brushed the trigger. It only took a second to realize he wasn’t as opaque as he should be.

This wasn’t a man, but a dislodged soul.

“What–?” I began but the lump in my throat got the better of my voice.

My brain finally registered the detective’s lack of movement and I looked from the soul to the detective’s face. His tired eyes stared up at me blankly; a dark circle of fluid spread across the grungy pavement beneath his head.

“No, I–”

The sight of his glazed eyes hit me like a spinning kick to the gut, stealing my breath and energy. My gun arm sagged, the police-issue .38 resting against my thigh, forgotten. I resisted the urge to shake him by the lapel of his wool coat or slap him awake, call out his name. I already knew what the result would be. The overhead light reflected in the pool of liquid around his head making a grisly halo.

I was responsible for another death.

I shook my head in disbelief and looked back at the spirit. There were no black bags under its eyes or worry lines at the corners of its mouth, but there was no mistaking to whom the soul belonged: except for the felt fedora tilted over the soul’s left eye like he’d stepped out of a Mickey Spillane novel, the spirit wore the same clothes.

“I didn’t–”

My words stuck again. Or maybe I didn’t want to complete the sentence because it would make what happened real. No need to worry, the ghost took care of that piece of business for me.

“You killed me.”

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ON UNFAITHFUL WINGS

To some, death is the end; to others, a beginning. To Icarus Fell, it should have been a relief from a life gone seriously awry.

But death had other plans.

Icarus doesn’t believe that the man awaiting him when he wakes up in a cheap motel room is really the archangel Michael, or that God’s right hand wants him to help souls on their way to Heaven. Icarus doesn’t believe there’s a Heaven, so why should they want his help?

But the man claiming to be the archangel tempts him with an offer he can’t ignore–harvest enough souls and get back the life he wished he’d had.

It seems Icarus has nothing to lose, until he botches a harvest and the soul that went to Hell instead of Heaven comes back to make him pay by threatening to take away the life he hoped to win back.

To save the wife and son he already lost once, Icarus will have to become the man he never was. Somehow, he will have to learn to believe.

Bruce Blake lives on Vancouver Island in British Columbia, Canada. When pressing issues like shovelling snow and building igloos don’t take up his spare time, Bruce can be found taking the dog sled to the nearest coffee shop to work on his short stories and novels.

Actually, Victoria, B.C. is only a couple hours north of Seattle, Wash., where more rain is seen than snow. Since snow isn’t really a pressing issue, Bruce spends more time trying to remember to leave the “u” out of words like “colour” and “neighbour” than he does shovelling (and watch out for those pesky double l’s). The father of two, Bruce is also the trophy husband of a burlesque diva.

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Posted by on 04/07/2017 in Book Blitz, Promos

 

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Buck Naked by Evangeline Anderson

BUCK NAKED by Evangeline Anderson

E-Original published by Swerve

Publication Date: April 4, 2017

ISBN: 9781250142047

Price: $3.99

 

Description

Sadie Becker is not herself. A 40-year-old, divorced mother of two, Sadie wakes up one morning and realizes that she looks and feels like she did in her twenties. Suddenly she’s unable to walk around in her new town of Cougarville without men falling at her feet. Confused and alone, Sadie isn’t sure who to turn to…except answers to her problems might reside with her broodingly handsome reclusive neighbor, Mathis.  An alpha shifter, Mathis lost the love of his life, and he knows he’ll never find another mate. But his innocent new neighbor clearly doesn’t know the danger she’s in, and he’s the only one who can save her.  But when the attraction pulls too strong, will Mathis’ animal nature be unleashed and claim Sadie for his own? Buck Naked is a sexy, emotional thrill-ride that will hook readers on this fantastic new series.

Excerpt: Buck Naked by Evangeline Anderson

Sadie looked at him critically from his huge size to his shaggy black hair and neatly trimmed black beard. He had olive skin and large well-made hands with very clean nails. Sadie liked that—she always noticed a man’s hands. For a moment she had a flash of what it would be like to have those hands caressing her body, roaming all over her naked flesh until she moaned for more.

Wait a minute—where did that thought come from?

She had no idea but suddenly there were more like it crowding her brain. It was as though one appetite had been satiated, and now another was growing. But that was ridiculous, wasn’t it? Stop it, Sadie, she scolded herself. He’s too young for you—way too young.

“Well?” Mathis asked and she realized she’d been studying him too long while thinking forbidden, lascivious thoughts.

“Oh, um…” She cleared her throat, feeling her cheeks get hot. “If it wasn’t for your green eyes, I’d say you look Italian. Or maybe half Italian and half giant.” She smiled at him to let him know she was joking and was surprised when he grinned back.

“Yeah, well, I can’t help that I’m not as itty-bitty as you.”

“What?” She gave him an incredulous look. “I am not itty-bitty, I assure you.”

“You are as far as I’m concerned.” His voice dropped to a soft growl and he leaned forward, looking at her across the table. “When I was holding you on the couch I was thinking you felt as light as a feather. Especially when you held on to my shirt and didn’t want me to let you go.”

“I… I don’t remember that. I just remember thinking that something smelled really good and I wanted … wanted to be close to it. To you, I guess.”

Sadie felt herself blushing again as she met his eyes. Why hadn’t she noticed how attractive he was earlier? Maybe because he was always scowling. And now the way he was looking at her, so intently …

She dropped her gaze, feeling unaccountably nervous. This was ridiculous—she was ten years older than him. They had a name for women who went after younger men, didn’t they? Right—cougar. She hadn’t moved to Cougarville to turn into some kind of a cougar.

Mathis seemed to sense her nervous confusion because he cleared his throat and got up to clear their plates.

“How about dessert?” His deep voice was slightly hoarse and there was a definite bulge in the denim of his jeans, but at least he was trying to act normal, which was more than Sadie could say for herself.

“Dessert sounds wonderful,” she made herself say, trying to get back to the cordial tone they’d had before things had suddenly turned weird.

“Great.” He got a glass casserole pan out of the refrigerator and scooped the contents out into two blue bowls, which he brought to the table.

Sadie looked at the dessert, which seemed to have three layers—blueberries in sauce at the bottom, a white middle layer, and crumbled cookies on the top. She took a bite and her eyes rolled up in delight.

“Oh my God, this is sinfully good! Is that middle layer cream cheese?” she asked, going in for another bite.

Mathis smiled. “Yeah, mixed with powdered sugar and whipped topping. The bottom is just homemade blueberry pie filling. We had a bumper crop this year so I picked extra.”

“You’re amazing.” Sadie looked at him in wonder. “I mean, you look like a lumberjack but you cook like freaking Gordon Ramsay.”

He grinned. “Nah—that guy’s an asshole all the time. I’m just an asshole until you get to know me.”

“Well, I’m glad I did—get to know you I mean.” Sadie smiled at him. “I thought after the way you looked at me this morning when I saw you through my window you’d hate me forever. I mean…” She trailed off, feeling mortified. Why had she brought up that morning and the fact that he’d seen her naked? They’d been doing so well and she had to go and ruin it.

“About that…” Mathis cleared his throat. “I thought… I mean, I had a wrong idea about you. And I want you to know I wasn’t, uh, spying on you. I was just getting firewood at the wrong time, I guess.”

            “Oh…” Sadie felt a rush of relief. “I know that—I could tell by the look on your face you were surprised. And I want you to know I didn’t mean to, uh, flash you.”

“I believe you,” he said simply. “Not that I minded being flashed.”

“Um …” Sadie felt like her face was on fire. “Thank you but I’m not…  I mean…”

“You’re beautiful,” he said, his deep voice hoarse. When she looked up, she saw his eyes were half lidded with desire and he was giving her that same intense look he had been when she’d woken up in his lap.

Review:

This is a great read. I really like the characters and world that have been created. It has some great twists and turns. Readers will be drawn into the story from the very first page. I look forward to reading more of Evangeline’s books.

 

Author Bio

Evangeline Anderson is the author of the Brides of the Kindred, Alien Mate Index, and Born to Darkness series. She lives in Florida, and to her delight, she gets paid for having a dirty mind.

 

Author Links

Website: evangelineanderson.com

Twitter: twitter.com/EvangelineA

 

Buy Links

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B06XC63Y4H

B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/buck-naked-evangeline-anderson/1125854590

iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/buck-naked/id1210098989

Kobo: https://www.kobo.com/us/en/ebook/buck-naked-3

Google Play: https://books.google.com/books?vid=ISBN9781250142047

 

 
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Posted by on 04/05/2017 in Book Blitz

 

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