Chameleon’s Challenge by B.R. Kingsolver

Chameleon Challenge Banner.jpg

Book Title: Chameleon’s Challenge

Author Name: B.R. Kingsolver

Genre: Urban Fantasy, science fiction, post-apocalyptic dystopian

Hosted by: Ultimate Fantasy Book Tours

51PWFIKSxWL.jpg

Blurb:

 

Libby’s chameleon mutation has led to a lucrative career as a thief and assassin. She normally doesn’t worry about the comfort of corporate executives, but when she stumbles onto the grisly murder of a rich man’s mistress, it gets her attention.

The murder leads Libby to believe her best friend’s life is in danger, and she vows to protect her. The killings continue, some in broad daylight, but no one ever sees the killer.

For a chameleon assassin, the scenario feels uncomfortably familiar.

 

 

↓Buy Links↓

 

U.S.

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B0725X6V21

 

U.K.

https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B0725X6V21

 

CA

https://www.amazon.ca/dp/B0725X6V21

 

AU

https://www.amazon.com.au/dp/B0725X6V21

 

 

 

B.R. Kingsolver.jpg

Author Bio:


I made silver and turquoise jewelry for almost a decade, ended up in nursing school, then took a master’s in business. Along the way I worked in construction, as a newspaper editor, a teacher, and somehow found a career working with computers.

As to my other interests, I love the outdoors, especially the Rocky Mountains. I’ve skied since high school, with one broken leg and one torn ACL to show for it. I’ve hiked and camped all my life. I love to travel, though I haven’t done enough of it. I’ve seen a lot of Russia and Mexico, not enough of England. Amsterdam is amazing, and the Romanian Alps are breathtaking. Lake Tahoe is a favorite, and someday I’d like to see Banff.

For special deals and news about new books, sign up for my newsletter.

http://brkingsolver.us1.list-manage.c…

Visit her at:

Website: http://brkingsolver.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/brkingsolver

Twitter: https://twitter.com/brkingsolver

Amazon: https://www.amazon.com/BR-Kingsolver/e/B007XDV5OW

ufb-banner-2017

Release Blitz: Sleepwalker by Brandy L Rivers

Sleepwalker RDB BANNER

Sleepwalker Ebook.jpg

SLEEPWALKER by Brandy L Rivers

Branches of Emrys #1

Adult Paranormal Romance

This series is related to Others of Seattle and Others of Edenton

He haunted her dreams.

Savon Roantree loved and lost the man she planned to marry. Nathan Taggert disappeared, taking her heart with him and her world fell apart. His father refused to tell her what happened to Nate. Broken-hearted she left, planning to never return to Silvertail Ridge and tried to move on.

After a bad break-up, she finally gives in to her brother’s pleas to move back home. She never expected Nate was living next door once more.

Nothing changed for Nate, not when it came to Savon.

A tragic accident tore them apart. By the time he recovered, she was gone. When his father threatened to kill Savon if he ever went to her, he did the only thing he could—followed in her dreams. No matter how hard he tried to reach her, she always ran. She even ignored his best friend, her own brother.

Twelve years later, he finally has a chance to right all the wrongs—if she’ll listen.

Silvertail Ridge has changed since they were kids. Both families have been pulled into an ancient battle.

Together they may stand a chance.
— NOW LIVE! —
SW 1SW 2SW 3
— ABOUT THE AUTHOR —
Brandy L Rivers is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling author. Her two main series are Others of Edenton and Others of Seattle. She has also written a couple contemporary stories. An avid reader, Brandy has always loved writing. She became serious about it as a stay-at-home-mother. Her secret lair, guarded by a pint-sized pound puppy who imagines himself a hellhound, contains a file full of manuscripts she plans to edit and put out with new creations she is constantly dreaming up. Living in rainy Western Washington with her husband and three kids, Brandy is already working on future stories in each of the series, and several other projects.
– social media links –
Sleepwalker moon.jpg
HOSTED BY:
HEA Book Tours PR (3)

Crimson Fire by Mirren Hogan

Crimson Fire

She had power at her fingertips, but the world had other ideas.

Magic was the last thing on Tabia’s mind — until she discovered she could use it. When her father hands her over to the princess of a neighbouring country to pay his debts, she may have the chance to learn how to control her new abilities.

But her new mistress’ enemies have plans of their own. Caught up in a web of divided loyalties, coercion and betrayal, Tabia can trust no one.

Can she find a way to regain her freedom and return home  — or will the struggle cost her the ultimate price?

Crimson Fire is the first book in a fantasy series by Mirren Hogan.

Feel the fire.

“a brilliant page-turner of an opening volume to her series”

“keeps you engaged throughout the story and leaves you wanting more”

“I love tales of magic, and this did not disappoint.”

 

Available now from Amazon – hyperurl.co/xeohop

 

Ravenheart by Dannika Dark

The highly anticipated second book in the Crossbreed Series is now available!! 

“WE ALL HAVE SECRETS, RAVEN. DARK ONES. EACH AND EVERY ONE OF US.”

Ravenheart
(Crossbreed Series, Bk #2)
By Dannika Dark
 
Blurb:
Two weeks after joining Keystone, Raven Black is ready to take on the world as a criminal hunter for hire. If only her partner wasn’t a bloodsucking Vampire with a penchant for getting under her skin. Despite her lavish surroundings, Raven misses the freedom of life without rules. And Keystone’s next assignment is about to test her self-control in more ways than one.
Dead bodies are popping up in the human district, and all signs point to a Breed serial killer. In order to catch him, Raven and Christian embark on a mission that takes their partnership into uncharted waters. Lives are at stake. Can Raven trust her instincts, or will she fall into a web spun from lies and deceit?
Time is running out in this pulse-pounding tale of dark secrets, murder, and forbidden desires.
Available purchase at

 

Audiobook for RAVENHEART available on June 14, 2017

Pre-order now at

   

Excerpt

 

Christian slipped on his thin cotton shirt, and I kept waiting for that towel to drop from all his twisty movements, but it clung to him like a chastity belt to a virgin.
Only there was nothing virginal in the way he looked at me. His eyes burned with secrets, and when he licked his lips, I felt the invitation just as surely as I saw it.
He tossed me my jacket, and I stood up to put it on. Christian did the same, his long black jacket swirling around him as he slipped his arms into the sleeves, until finally it covered everything but his legs below the thigh.
Then the towel dropped.
Christian swaggered back to the bathroom. Did he just chuckle?
Perturbed, I looked away and widened my eyes when I realized my bra was draped over the TV. I stuffed it into my coat pocket and then switched off the television.
As I neared the bathroom entrance, I peeked in and saw him leaning over the tub, his foot propped on the edge while he tied his laces.
“You look like something the cat dragged in,” he said, peering over his shoulder.
“If you were a gentleman, I might have gotten to use the shower first.”
He stood up and gripped the doorjamb over his head. “Perhaps next time we should share—that way nobody gets left out.”
I glared.
Christian winked. “Just trying to think about the environment and water conservation.”
“Exactly what did you say to that woman at the bar that made her a willing victim?”
He grinned wolfishly. “I’m afraid you’ll have to come closer to find out.”
“No, thanks. I’m just curious what kind of words of seduction you use to catch your prey. Probably telling them they taste like the Dead Sea or something romantic like that.”
Christian gave me a bemused look. “Why would you say something like that?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. It was the first thing that popped into my mind. Am I getting warm, Romeo?”
“Ice cold. Like your nipples. Perhaps you should get decent and put on a bra.”
“If a bra makes you decent, then you need one more than I do.”

 

 

 

Keystone
(Crossbreed Series Book 1)
Grab your copy at

 

               
   

Buy Links:

Amazon (Kindle): http://amzn.to/2pYerJq 

Amazon (paperback): http://amzn.to/2q00N6L

 

 

About the Author
Dannika Dark is the USA Today Bestselling Author of Urban Fantasy Romance and Paranormal Romance. Her books have sold more than 1 million copies worldwide, and she is a 2016 Audie Awards finalist. 

 

Dannika was born on a military base in the U.S. and spent her youth traveling abroad. She developed an interest writing poetry and song lyrics early on, eventually gravitating toward a job that involved writing procedural training documentation. In her spare time, she wrote novels before she decided to pursue a career in publishing.
In addition to writing about supernatural worlds, Dannika is passionate about graphic design and creates all her own covers and series art. When not writing, she enjoys indie music, movies, reading, Tex-Mex, strawberry daiquiris, heaps of chocolate, and unleashing her dark side.
All of her published books to date are written in the same universe and contain material suitable for adults only.
“For me, writing is all about blending genres to break out of the confines of predictability, but it’s what I love to do.” ~ Danni
You can find Dannika at
           

To receive exclusive content and be the first to know about upcoming releases, please sign up to receive her newsletter. 

Presented By

 

<b

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↓

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

ufb-banner-2017

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.”

AmazonAmazon Int’lGoodreads

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.

FacebookWebsiteTwitterGoodreadsAmazonPGP author page

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