Whatever You Can Still Betray

Grave Robbing and Other Hobbies by Jayce Carter | Book Blitz + Giveaway

2021-04-27T19:00:00.125+08:00

Ghosts, corpses and four hot men—what’s a girl to do?

Hunter didn’t remove his hand from my mouth. It made me realize he was also entirely pressed against me, and despite it not being possible, he felt better than he’d looked. His skin was warm, even through my robe.

He took his hand off my mouth but didn’t move away. “Stay still,” he whispered against my ear.

“Why? Is it coming back?”

“No. I just really like looking down your robe.”

As soon as his words sank in, when I moved past the adrenaline and the purr of his voice, I realized that yes, my robe had bagged open and he had a perfect view down the front.

I elbowed him, but he didn’t seem to even feel it. He released me, though the way he did it implied my little move hadn’t meant a thing.

“I am so tired of people breaking into my house,” I said.

“You aren’t human, and you don’t have any wards. That’s the same as a ‘come on in’ sign in our world.”

“I am human.”

“Sure, shadow-girl.” He sent me a conspiratorial wink, as if we were on the joke together.

“No, I actually am. No funky teeth, no freaky eyes. Human.” I pointed at my face as though that drove the point home.

He waved at himself. “No funky teeth, no freaky eyes. Very much not human. Sure, though, if you want to pretend, I’m not one to turn down a bit of good roleplay. You want to be innocent Little Red Riding Hood? I’ll play the wolf.”

His suggestion derailed me. How could it not? Any girl who claimed she hadn’t had entirely inappropriate dreams about the wolf in that story was a damned liar. Once I’d reached a certain age, ‘all the better to eat you with’ had taken on a very different meaning.

I pictured a dark, heavily wooded forest as I ran, something on my heels, gaining ground. His warm breath on my neck when he caught me…

Suddenly I didn’t care what he’d said, why he was there or what exactly he meant by him ‘not being human’.

Until I recalled he’d broken in, and clearly him showing up at my office wasn’t a coincidence.

He snorted. “I liked where your mind was going before.”

“What are you doing here? And what was that thing?”

“Don’t we have better things to discuss? Or we can do away with talking all together.”

“I don’t sleep with people who might kill me, but thanks.”

“If someone might not kill you, are they even worth sleeping with in the first place?”

About the Book

Grave Robbing and Other Hobbies

Grave Concerns #1

Jayce Carter

Publication Date: April 20, 2021

Genres: Adult, Paranormal, Reverse Harem, Romance

Abandoned at three—whose parents want a kid who sees ghosts?—I learned the world is quick to punish misfits. I try my best to be a normal, boring human, but the call of the supernatural just won’t be ignored.

When a stranger shows up on my doorstep in the middle of the night, it’s no sexy tryst. Instead, I’m off to the graveyard, digging up the corpse of a murder victim at the demand of the local vampire coven—and that small felony is just the start.

The spirit of the woman has gone missing—something that shouldn’t be possible—and everyone is looking to me for answers. There’s Kase, a vampire who’s both terrifying and secretive. Grant, a mage with a bad attitude and a lot of power. Troy, the possessive werewolf-detective next door and Hunter, a mysterious bad boy who isn’t even close to human.

It’s a race not just against time but against everything to figure out where the spirits are going, who’s behind it and if I can trust the men who now share my bed.

And all because of a little grave robbing…

About the Author

Jayce Carter lives in Southern California with her husband and two spawns. She originally wanted to take over the world but realized that would require wearing pants. This led her to choosing writing, a completely pants-free occupation. She has a fear of heights yet rock climbs for fun and enjoys making up excuses for not going out and socializing.

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A Day in the Life of an Author by Joan F. Smith | The Half-Orphan's Handbook | Blog Tour + Giveaway

2021-04-22T19:00:00.169+08:00

Welcome to the The Half-Orphan's Handbook Blog Tour!

Author Joan F. Smith stops by to talk about writing life pre-Covid, current projects, and daily dance parties.

Check out her debut novel, plus enter to win the giveaway!

A Day in the Life of an Author

by Joan F. Smith

Thank you for the opportunity to guest post!

Rule number one for my writing life: every day is different. I can’t stand the advice that “real writers write every day,” because I’ve been a “real writer” for a long time who has never written every day. I like to think that most writers at least think of their projects most days—and thinking about a project counts as progress!—but that’s not even a requirement. Sometimes not thinking or writing is what leads us to the best places.

My writing life pre-covid was a lot different than it is now. Prior to the pandemic, I worked from home full time for seven years as a professor and then as an associate dean. I had meetings and my own work, but I was usually able to fit in an hour of writing in the early mornings or late afternoons before everyone came crashing back home. My husband picked up the slack for a long time at the start of this unsettling year, but eventually, I had to take a leave of absence due to the (nearly constant) presence of the two growing humans in my home. Along with millions of other people in the world, we are two full-time working parents, and adding hybrid kindergarten plus a loss of childcare for our toddler made navigating our days in ways fair to everyone in the house very difficult.

As a result, I’m careful with my time, and I find that having projects in different stages really works for my headspace. I give myself a lot of grace. If I sit down to write and wind up with a thousand less words than I started, then that means my story is tighter. (I also no longer really keep track of my word count during sessions, because twelve hundred forced words to get to a word count goal usually aren’t as well-drafted as eight hundred I write without thinking about that.) Currently, in addition to launching The Half-Orphan’s Handbook, I'm working on two YAs in different stages (revision/proposal), drafting an adult project that I've been slowly tackling for the last year and a half, and letting a picture book draft sit for a bit.

A major part of my writing day includes checking in with my critique partners. We have a daily DM thread that is three and a half years long. I work very closely them, kicking ideas around every single day. We ask each other everything from “does this dialogue sound natural” to “what if these two characters become one”

Now, I get one to three days a week where I have a few hours of uninterrupted computer writing time, which is enough for me to make progress when I add it to all the other stolen minutes I get. I meet with a group of writers most Saturday afternoons via Zoom, which is great to chat for twenty minutes or so and then get some words down. To my great relief, I no longer embark on a major project without an extremely detailed outline (which I absolutely do depart from if inspiration strikes), which means if I get interrupted for anything, I can get back on track with some regularity. In addition to my dedicated writing time, I dictate to my Notes app while driving, scrawl in my notebook if I’m a passenger in the car (thank you, childrens’ podcasts!), write plot ideas or lines of dialogue on napkins or paper bags I stuff back into my pockets, backpacks, beach bags. All together, these things help create novels—along with daily dance parties in the kitchen, screen-free mealtimes, exercise, and some kind of procrastination task or another.

The Half-Orphan’s Handbook

Joan F. Smith

Published by: Imprint/Macmillan

Publication Date: April 6, 2021

Genres: Young Adult, Coming of Age, Contemporary

For fans of John Green and Emily X.R. Pan, The Half-Orphan’s Handbook by Joan F. Smith is a coming-of-age story and an empathetic, authentic exploration of grief with a sharp sense of humor and a big heart.

It’s been three months since Lila lost her father to suicide. Since then, she’s learned to protect herself from pain by following two unbreakable rules:

1. The only people who can truly hurt you are the ones you love. Therefore, love no one.

2. Stay away from liars. Liars are the worst.

But when Lila’s mother sends her to a summer-long grief camp, it’s suddenly harder for Lila to follow these rules. Potential new friends and an unexpected crush threaten to drag her back into life for the first time since her dad’s death.

On top of everything, there’s more about what happened that Lila doesn’t know, and facing the truth about her family will be the hardest part of learning how a broken heart can love again.

About the Author

Joan F. Smith lives with her family in Massachusetts, where she works as an associate dean, a creative writing professor, and a dance instructor. She received her MFA in creative writing from Emerson College, and has written articles for The Washington Post and Thought Catalog on destigmatizing discussions around mental health and suicide prevention. The Half-Orphan’s Handbook is her debut novel.

Website | Goodreads | Twitter | Instagram | Facebook

Print copy of The Half-Orphan's Handbook by Joan F. Smith

Ends April 29, 2021

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The Tour

April 19th

–Book Dragons and Sweepers >> Excerpt

–Literary Gold >> Excerpt

–Bookcheshirecat >> Review

April 20th

–Living in a Bookworld >> Excerpt

–breen.rb >> Review

–diary of wannabe writer >> Review

–Rockin’ Book Reviews >> Guest post

–Books By Maeve >> Excerpt

April 21st

–The Avid Reader >> Excerpt

–Reading Tonic >> Guest post

–Quiet Fury Books >> Excerpt

–Movies, Shows, & Books >> Excerpt

–Book Sniffers Anonymous >> Excerpt

April 22nd

–DEEKAY | Daily Dose of Reading >> Review

–Whatever You Can Still Betray >> Guest post

–Sadie’s Spotlight >> Excerpt

–The Eclectic Review >> Review

–The Scribe Owl >> Review

–Aubrey Wynne: Timeless Love >> Excerpt

April 23rd

–Owl Book World >> Review

–Kait Plus Books >> Interview

–A Bolt out of the Book >> Review

–Valerie Ullmer | Romance Author >> Excerpt

Twitter | Instagram | Goodreads | Pinterest | Linktree

A tour of the Zweeshen: What To Do And Where To Go | Unwritten by Alicia J. Novo | Blog Tour + Giveaway

2021-04-15T09:00:00.258+08:00

A tour of the Zweeshen: What To Do And Where To Go

“Welcome to the Zweeshen. I’m a Prolog, an expert tasked with guiding you on your exploration of the realm of stories. Here is a magical guide for your convenience. No, no, you can’t open it like that. You have to ask the book to show you what you need. And do it nicely, or it might send you to the Dust—or worse.

What should you ask? Well, I would start with the highlights. The places no tourist should miss. And feel free to follow along on your interactive map. I’m magically bound to answer all your questions, so I’ll be here if you need me.”

Excerpt from The Official Guide to the Zweeshen

Where to go and what to see on your first visit

The Bibliothekum

A semi-submerged, cathedral-looking building, the Bibliothekum protrudes like an island of spires out of the middle of a medium size lake. A glass drawbridge extends over the water, allowing access to the entry tower where an elevator carries visitors up and down.

The Bibliothekum houses all Leebers, the enchanted books inside of which the souls of stories are bound, and its shelves are said to be infinite.

Considered the “safest place in all the worlds,” the Bibliothekum is both technologically and magically guarded.

Visitors aren’t allowed inside unless invited by either the Council or the Librarian, but the exterior architecture is breathtaking enough to warrant a visit.

What to do: Take a selfie in front of the drawbridge. Note that it is lowered once a week on Friday mornings to test its functioning.

Stroll the surrounding military park and ask the statue of the winged woman to pose with you.

The green-blue cupola of the Bibliothekum is at its most photogenic at dusk.

Pod Station: Central Station (All Lines)

The Bookends café

Popular with the young crowd, the Bookends is one of the most famous places on the University campus. Always bustling, it boasts a comfortable dining room and several lounging areas. What makes it unique is that the Bookends reinvents itself regularly according to a different book-inspired theme. The fare consists of international favorites with a creative twist. It offers breakfast, lunch, and dinner, as well as a snacks and pastries counter in the café section.

What to order: Try the “Journey through the Zweeshen breakfast,” which includes delicacies from 20 different bookworlds. If you are in the mood for tea time, you might like the Duke and Duchess Tray with specialties mentioned in classic Regency and Victorian novels. For dinner, don’t miss the Peryton, a mythical beast burger that’s hard to match for flavor and tenderness anywhere in the bookworlds.

Pod Station: University East (Yellow Line)

Kambala Road

The “Street of All” is the largest shopping destination in the Zweeshen. Just off the Great Bazaar, it’s a crowded boulevard full of a curious assortment of shops. Dancers, acrobats, and musicians perform every day in the middle of the street while people carrying bags zigzag around them. Lively and festive, do not be alarmed to see balls fly, snakes sway, sprites balance on tensed strings, and micro-robots collide with each other in mini-jousting matches.

The shops line both sides of the street, with narrow storefronts and assorted facades. A-frame signs and fabric banners advertise a wide array of wares, everything from brooches to capes to tech gadgets, to French baguettes, laser guns, and coal stoves.

What to buy: Try a conjuring service at a shop with the open hand by the front sign and create a custom gadget of your dreams. Just be specific in your requirements; magic is unpredictable, and Conjure artists, capricious.

The Superhero Superstore is an excellent choice for sci-fi and futuristic weaponry. They carry some limited time-travel devices that might come in handy too. Note that if your world does not possess this technology, those will be ineffectual in your land of origin.

If you’re in the market for apparel, visit The Gallery to get a pair of their famous Chameleon footwear that match whatever color you choose.

Feeling adventurous? You might swing by Grimm’s at Dark. One of the oldest shops in Kambala, it’s a treasure cove of antique, new, and lost things where you might find the perfect souvenir. The provenance of some items is questionable, so keep your receipt and be sure to declare any valuable objects before your return home. Be aware that you cannot leave the store with an even number of things, so plan accordingly.

Pod Station: Shopping District - Læsting City (Blue Line)

Kioshi Gardens

The blooming Cherry trees of Kioshi have been recognized as one of the most breathtaking views anywhere. Every day, starting at early dawn, the trees begin blooming and then losing their flowers in a random pattern. Catch one bud and lift it to your ear to hear stories and secrets from many places in the book universe. Under a spell that ensures consistent mild weather, the gardens have several picnic areas, a labyrinth, and two lakes where rental rowboats are on offer. The tea shop is a must-see.

The main musical water feature is also popular, where the nymph Echo of one of the most famous retellings makes her home to this day. Throw in a dekums coin, and if you’re lucky, she may answer with the key to achieve your deepest wish.

Pod Station: Læsting City (Purple Line)

Sherorth

Tired of the city. In need of fresh air?

You might want to venture to the Sussurr Woods near Navarsing University. With a bit of preparation, you might be lucky enough to stumble upon Sherorth, and what an amazing story to take back home. Sherorth, the fey and elementals neighborhood hovers above the Zweeshen in no exact location, and sometimes, if you stepp in the right place, they take visitors for a ride.

What to do: Enhance your chances of being “swept up” by wearing a shirt with a shiny design or intricate jewelry. Fairies have a predilection for beautiful things. Try humming. A good singing voice has been known to be valued. The exact combination of characteristics required by the fey is unclear, but it is believed a good imagination and a willingness to laugh at yourself are key. Visiting the forest during a purple moon might improve your luck as well.

Rules & Caution: While the legends about eating or drinking in fairy realms are not accurate in Sherorth, some fae food is too ethereal for consumption, so we advise you to come armed with snacks.

Make sure you do not have anything planned for the next day, as fairy time is dubious, and you won’t want to miss your return trip.

Do not, under any circumstances, cut flowers or pluck any mushrooms no matter how intense your desire.

Leave something small behind as a thank you. Otherwise, you will never be invited again.

Pod Station: History Faculty (Yellow Line). Walk towards the coastal boardwalk and take it to the furthest edge, then follow any of the hiking trails.

“I see you’re ready to explore already. Perfect. A word of caution before you set out, though. Be careful as you roam these places. The Zweeshen might be full of fun and wonder, but nothing is what it seems. Around here, danger doesn’t advertise, and everywhere you step, the Fogges lurk.”

Unwritten

The Zweeshen Chronicles #1

Alicia J. Novo

Publication Date: May 8, 2021

Genres: Young Adult, Fantasy

Goodreads | Amazon | Book Depository

Books whisper to Beatrix Alba. But they aren’t the reason she has never fit in. Bullied at home and school, she keeps a secret—a power of violence and darkness.

When the spell that keeps her hidden fails, she’s catapulted into the Zweeshen, a realm where all tales live, and her dream of meeting her favorite characters comes true. But wishes are tricky, and behind its wonder and whimsy, the Zweeshen is under attack. A character is burning bookworlds in pursuit of a weapon to rule both stories and storytellers. To succeed, he needs a riddle in Beatrix’s possession.

Now he’s hunting her down.

Joining forces with William, a cursed conjurer, Beatrix must face an enemy who knows her every weakness in a realm where witches play with time, Egyptian gods roam, and Regency heroines lead covert operations. And with her darkness as the only weapon, she may have to sacrifice everything to save a world that rejects her.

About the Author

Alicia has a weak spot for happy endings and transformative journeys. She spent her teenage years

in Argentina and Europe, speaks several languages and loves to travel.

An eclectic reader, she grew up on a diet ranging from Lucy M. Montgomery and Jane Austen to Ray Bradbury, Isaac Asimov, Raymond Chandler, Hermann Hesse, Jorge Luis Borges, and many classics. She's never been cured of reading a bit of everything and is as likely to geek out about Mr. Darcy as Dr. Who.

She is a history and astronomy aficionado, who walked the Camino de Santiago in Spain, completed her Masters in the Netherlands and worked for Google in Ireland. She decided to become a writer at six but took a full, winding road here. Along the way, she learned if there’s one thing that cuts across cultures, one unifying thread that pulls everyone together, it's a good story.

A big-city girl, she now lives in the Midwest, where she occasionally picks apples and pretends witches exist.

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A physical copy and a box of branded goodies (bookmarks, keychain, enamel pin, character art, candle, tote) (US only)

Ebook with digital goodies (character art, background, map) (INT)

Ends April 29, 2021

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The Tour

April 12th

–Literary Gold >> Excerpt

–The World of Celia McMahon >> Review

–Rockin’ Book Reviews >> Guest post

–Viviana MacKade >> Excerpt

April 13th

–diary of wannabe writer >> Review

–Jessica Belmont >> Review

–Ilovebooksandstuffblog >> Excerpt

–Lindsey’s Library >> Review

April 14th

–Living in a Bookworld >> Excerpt

–breen.rb >> Review

–Quiet Fury Books >> Guest post

–Drunk On Pop >> Excerpt

–The Review Booth >> Review

April 15th

–Daily Waffle >> Excerpt

–TLC Book Nook >> Review

–Wishful Endings >> Review

–Myth and Magic Book Club >> Review

–Whatever You Can Still Betray >> Guest post

April 16th

–gracelwrites – a voyage across pages >> Review

–Betwixt The Sheets >> Interview

–The Avid Reader >> Review

–The Scribe Owl >> Review

April 19th

–Know Your Books >> Review

–Jazzy Book Reviews >> Interview

–Reading Tonic >> Review

–Aubrey Wynne: Timeless Love >> Excerpt

April 20th

–Book Briefs >> Review

–Sara In Bookland >> Review

–mamasbookblends >> Review

–Westveil Publishing >> Review

April 21st

–dinipandareads >> Review

–Sadie’s Spotlight >> Excerpt

–Books A-Brewin’ >> Excerpt

April 22nd

–DEEKAY | Daily Dose of Reading >> Review

–What Is That Book About >> Excerpt

–Chonky Books Review >> Review

–Cranky TBC >> Review

April 23rd

–Rincon de Joss >> Review

–Books By Maeve >> Interview

–Valerie Ullmer | Romance Author >> Excerpt

–Teatime and Books >> Excerpt

–Hurn Publications >> Excerpt

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Sweet perfection with Kisses and Croissants by Anne-Sophie Jouhanneau | Blog Tour + Giveaway

2021-04-01T09:00:00.100+08:00

Tour Schedule

As sweet as a macaron from Laduree, with writing as crisp as a freshly baked baguette, this romantic novel set in Paris about an American ballerina and a charming French boy is parfait for fans of American Royals and Netflix’s To All the Boys I’ve Loved Before.

Kisses and Croissants

Anne-Sophie Jouhanneau

Date of Publication: April 6, 2021

Genres: Young Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Seventeen-year-old Mia, an American girl at an elite summer ballet program, has six weeks to achieve her dreams: to snag an audition with one of the world’s best ballet companies. But there’s more to Paris than ballet—especially when a charming French boy, Louis, wants to be her tour guide—and the pair discover the city has a few mysteries up its sleeve.

In the vein of romances like Love and Gelato, this is the perfect summer adventure for anyone looking to get swept away in the City of Love.

GOODREADS | AMAZON | BARNES & NOBLE | BOOK DEPOSITORY

“What did you do?” I ask, holding my breath. Mom shrugs.

“I kept up with my lessons. I auditioned for the smaller companies. And then one day I realized that it wasn’t going to happen for me. I could have persevered, but the more I thought about it, the more I felt like ballet didn’t want me. I’d spent years of my life on lessons and competitions, and I had nothing to show for it. I was tired of the disappointment, of the rejections. So I went to college in Philadelphia. At first, I thought I’d feel completely lost and that I’d regret giving up my dream. But I didn’t. I had a great time. I made friends, I found new things to get passionate about, and I met your dad. I have a great career, I love my job, and I can take my daughter to fancy lunches in Paris. I don’t regret a thing.”

I exhale slowly, trying to process this story. I didn’t really know my mother until now, and it’s partly my fault. All these years when we argued about my passion for ballet, I never thought to ask her how she truly felt about it.

“Giving up is not the right choice for me,” I say, my voice steady but my hands shaking.

Mom smiles. “It took me a long time to see it, but I know that now. I'm sorry I haven’t been more supportive of your dream. I was just trying to show you that you could be happy without ballet. But Grandma Joan told me you found our ancestor, the danseuse étoile. I know what it means to you.”

She reaches across the table and takes my hand. I feel exhausted, battered. I don’t think I’ve fully accepted what happened to me, and what life will look like for me in the next few months.

"I want to become a professional ballet dancer. This is what I’ve always dreamed of,” I say, more to convince myself. “But what if it doesn’t happen?”

Mom nods slowly. “Then you will be okay.”

“Will I?” I take a deep breath and bite my tongue. What kind of faux pas would it be to start crying in such a fancy restaurant?

“Mia,” Mom says, determined. “Look at me. Soon this will just feel like a small bump in the road. Trust me.”

“I missed my chances with ABT. Twice.” “I thought I wanted this more than anything else; then my life took a different path, and it was perfect. This isn’t about missing chances. It's about enjoying the journey. You should pursue your dream for as long as you want to, but you should also allow yourself to change dreams along the way.”

I nod and silently get back to my meal. I want to believe she’s right, but I can't shake off everything—and everyone—I’ve lost in the last couple of days. Still, I know it deep inside me: I’m going to dance again.

Excerpted with permission from Kisses and Croissants by Anne-Sophie Jouhanneau, Copyright Delacorte Press, 2021.

About the Author

Anne-Sophie Jouhanneau is a bilingual French author of young adult fiction and nonfiction. Her books have been translated into seven languages. Kisses and Croissants (Delacorte Press, 2021) is her U.S. debut. After graduating university in France, she moved to Amsterdam to begin a career in advertising. She then spent a few years in Melbourne before settling in New York City, where she lives with her Australian husband and their American cat.

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1 COPY of KISSES AND CROISSANTS by Anne-Sophie Jouhanneau

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Every time you leave it makes me... | The First Man by Alex Kelly | Book Blitz + Giveaway

2021-02-25T08:00:00.121+08:00

Do you want to know what it means to live like me?

The First Man

From Connemara With Love #2

Alex Kelly

Publication Date: February 25, 2021

Genres: Adult, Contemporary, LGBTQ+, Romance

Shane

Do you want to know what it means to live like me?
It means being forced not to look at him, not to touch him, not to be left alone in the same room as him.
Not to seek him out. Not to want him.
Not to love him.
Do you know how it feels to spend your entire life pretending to be someone else? Do you know what it’s like to love someone who doesn’t want to be loved?
I’ll tell you how it feels.
It feels as if you’re living in constant torment: you know which path you should follow, but you also know that, if you follow that path, you can never turn back.
And I can’t do that to him.
Every day I come back, because I know that he’s waiting for me.
Every day I promise him that he will never have to live without me.

Andy

Do you know what it means to live like me?
It means being forced not to touch him, not to kiss him, not to be able to leave the room while he’s still in it.
Not to breathe him in, not to lust after him.
Not to love him.
Do you know how it feels to spend your entire life pretending to be someone else? Do you know what it’s like to love the only person you’re not allowed to love?
I’ll tell you how it works.
You can’t seem to feel anything other than him; when you walk away, you know that you’re turning your back on the only thing that’s good in your life.
Yet you still walk away.
Every day I leave, knowing that he will be standing there, watching.
Every day I ask him to promise me that I will never have to live without him.

He turns towards me, and I immediately regret getting so close to him, in the darkness, the roads around us almost deserted. No one can see us. I regret even coming here tonight, having watched him for three hours with my stomach in flames. I can’t believe I thought I could do this.

I can’t believe I told him that we couldn’t do this.

Not that it’s easy every day, seeing him in a crowd, always surrounded by friends, or with his family. Paddling around in a kayak, or playing a gig, talking, laughing.

Pretending.

He moves quickly, grabbing my face between his hands and bringing it closer to his, until our foreheads are touching. I can’t feel anything, can’t think, can’t speak; his hands are touching me, holding me against him. His large, warm hands are against my skin. I hadn’t realised how much I’d missed them until I felt their heat again. I didn’t think that wanting them on me, all over me, would be so painful.

And then, Andy kisses me, stripping me of my anger and making me forget why it was even there in the first place.

I grab hold of his wrists as he pushes against my mouth, breathing into me, reminding me of the reason I could never want anyone else.

Andy’s kisses aren’t easy to handle: they’re strong and powerful, fuelled by impatience and uncontrollable desire.

Andy’s kisses are laced with bitterness and silence. They taste of lost nights and bad timing.

Andy’s kisses taste of lies, of shortness of breath. They taste of mistakes and decisions we never made.

Andy’s kisses are pain and regret; they’re anxiety and frustration; they’re darkness and desperation.

I hate Andy’s kisses. I hate them so much that I can’t help but love them.
He steps closer, forcing me to take a few steps back. He storms into the pub, slamming the door closed behind us. He looks like he hasn’t slept at all. His beard is straggly, and he’s still wearing my shirt.

“We’re alone,” he says, his breath heaving. “Alone.”

“Shane…”

He moves quickly and loops his hand around the back of my neck. “We’re alone,” he says, moving his face closer to mine. “And I want you.” He pushes his mouth against me. “I want you, Andy.” His other hand is behind my neck, now, too. “Don’t send me away.” His fingers weave their way into my hair. “Don’t make me beg,” he says, holding me tightly against him. I couldn’t move away, even if I wanted to. “Because I’m ready to do it,” he says, throwing himself against me like a raging storm you hope will never let up. I’d rather drown in his waves than live another minute on this life raft, in the middle of the ocean.

I want to drown inside him, and never come back to the surface.

Shane’s kisses are my salvation and my ruin. They’re messy and passionate, painful and tender, strong yet weak.

Shane’s kisses are land and sea, my refuge and my destruction; they’re my worst nightmare and the dream I never want to wake up from.

Shane’s kisses are my end and my beginning.

Shane’s kisses are the only thing I open my eyes for every morning.

About the Author

Alex Kelly writes uplifting, emotional and heartwarming Romantic Fiction and Family Sagas.

She's a bibliophile, a Yogi, a lover of English literature and a baking enthusiast.

She was born in Italy but lives in Ireland with her husband, two children and a cat named Oscar.

Also writes as A. S. Kelly.

More at: www.authoralexkelly.com

Website | Instagram | Facebook | Twitter

Other books in the series

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They kiss like this every time one comes back | The Best Man by Alex Kelly | Book Blitz + Giveaway

2021-02-08T09:00:00.003+08:00

My name is Alex Brennan, and this is my story: of how I realised I’d lost the most important person in my life, before I even had her.

The Best Man

From Connemara With Love #1

Alex Kelly

Publication Date: November 12, 2020

Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

I always turn up at just the wrong moment. I never know how to make the most of a situation; I don’t know the right thing to say, or when I should come or go.

Let’s just say I have really shit timing.
I’m not a smart guy. I don’t have great ideas.

I’m practical, a hard worker; someone who lives for his family, and for the air that she breathes.
It’s just a shame that the “she” in question never knew this. It’s a shame that I waited all these years to make my move. It’s useless to tell you, readers, that it was already too late; that I’d screwed everything up, once again. And, this time, my mistakes forced her to come home.

Except she didn’t want to stay.

And now she hates me – or maybe she doesn’t. I still haven’t worked out what’s going on between us, but like I said, I’m not the sharpest tool in the box. And even though this could be my last chance, I’m not going to be the one to ask her to stay. Not even if she turns out to be the one I’ve always waited for.

Because she doesn’t belong in this place.
And she doesn’t belong in my life.

My name is Alex Brennan, and this is my story: of how I realised I’d lost the most important person in my life, before I even had her.

I walk behind her wordlessly, until we get to the door of her building. I’m a gentleman, and she knows it. I’ve always walked her to her door – something her brothers have always taken the piss out of me for – because I want to be sure that she gets home okay, and that nothing happens to her. I don’t do it now because of everything that’s just happened; I’ve always done it, and I always will. I’m not ashamed of that. If there’s one thing my mother taught me, it’s that I should never be ashamed of who I am and what I feel, and I’m not going to start feeling shameful tonight. So I walk up to the top floor with her without being asked why. Once we get to her front door, Ellie sticks her key into the lock and opens it, then stands, unmoving, with her forehead against the wood, trying to work out what should happen next.

“Don’t ask me,” I say, helping her.

Ellie turns slowly to face me.

“Now’s not the right moment,” I say, because it’s true. Even though the only thing I want right now is to push her inside, lock us into her apartment, and make love to her until we can’t walk anymore.

She smiles and nods; she knows this is for the best, too. I step closer to her and stroke her face, before gently pressing my lips to hers. Then I say it, because I can feel her fear pulsing into my chest.

“I’ll never ask you, Ellie.”

I’m an idiot, but I carry on anyway, because I love her more than I love the idea of the two of us together.

“I’ll never ask you to come back.”

I let go of her face and take a few steps back.

“Why not?”

“You know why,” I say; and from the way her eyes grow wide, I realise that she already knew my answer all along.

About the Author

Alex Kelly writes uplifting, emotional and heartwarming Romantic Fiction and Family Sagas.

She's a bibliophile, a Yogi, a lover of English literature and a baking enthusiast.

She was born in Italy but lives in Ireland with her husband, two children and a cat named Oscar.

Also writes as A. S. Kelly.

More at: www.authoralexkelly.com

Website | Instagram | Facebook | Twitter

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Ends February 18, 2021

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Witches. Ghosts. An ancient secret. | The Secret of Dartwood Manor by N.A. Triptow | Excerpt + Giveaway

2021-01-25T08:00:00.135+08:00

Enter a world of myth and magic through this contemporary fantasy reimagining of Jane Austen’s beloved classic, Sense and Sensibility.

The Secret of Dartwood Manor

The Witchling Trilogy #1

N.A. Triptow

Publication Date: January 18, 2021

Genres: Young Adult, Fantasy, Romance

The small New England town of Tarryville, Maine is steeped in history, having been settled by the Dartwood and Farris families who fled Salem during the witch trials. The Dartwood sisters, Eden, Mariah, and Melissa, unexpectedly return home after their parents are found murdered. Upon their arrival, the girls are plagued by dreams in which dark spectral beings haunt them. When the hellish creatures seem to be more than just nightmares, another mystery begins to unravel as they discover that the circumstances around the murder of their parents may be far more menacing than they appear. Frantic for answers, they must untangle the mystery of their parents’ murders and reconstruct the pieces of an ancient secret. With the help of the young assistant curator of their family museum, Baden Correia, and an estranged friend from their past, Evan Farris, the orphaned Dartwood sisters must uncover the truth before the darkness haunting their family descends upon them as well.

Mariah found herself staring at the blank screen of her laptop for longer than she intended after the video call ended, hardly even noticing when the tears began to stain her cheeks. When there were no more tears left to shed, she closed her laptop and placed it on her bedside table. Rearranging herself on her bed she crawled under the covers and tried to shut her eyes, but the room around her tugged at her mind, summoning all of the haunted bedroom scenes she’d watched a million times in movies. Suddenly thankful for the old-fashioned four-poster bed, she pulled the curtains tight around her, blocking out the unwanted sights and was finally able to go to sleep.

The stillness of the manor was like a quiet pond just waiting for a fish to upset its equilibrium. The manors beside one another were nearly identical in their architectural design, but now, in the gloom of the night, the Farris manor echoed the dread of the once bright Dartwood manor with such exactness that it seemed as if they were all sleeping in a cemetery. No one stirred in the house, save for the shadows that danced through the windows in the moonlight. The stillness was disturbed, however, as one by one the shadows in the three Dartwood girls’ rooms began to move in purposeful strides. The moonlight no longer directed them in a nightly waltz as they made their way toward the girls.

The shadows, each a ghostly orb of darkness, started their trek from different locations in the rooms. In Eden’s room the mist trickled in from the window, while in Mariah’s it inched between the moth-eaten holes in the cloth ceiling of the four-poster bed, and in Melissa’s it crept in from under the bed itself. Slowly, the haze advanced upon each girl, their forms growing ever more into the silhouette of a person as they neared them. Hovering now only a foot or two above the girls, in unison, as if directed by the moon once more, an ethereal hand reached for each girl, fingers looking more like claws than anything else. A high pitched and yet deep hiss of sound escaped what should have been lips on the silhouettes, darkness protruding and encircling itself around the sleeping forms of the girls below them. Then, without warning, all three silhouettes shrieked a cry of disappointment, an unearthly shrill.

The sound woke each girl as they came to the terrible realization that what had been haunting them in their nightmares was in reality hovering just above them as they slept. Gasping, the silhouettes dissipated into nothing so quickly that none of the girls were quite certain of what they had seen. Nonetheless, each rose out of their beds with such haste that they all opened their doors at the same moment, only to be greeted by the horror-struck faces of their siblings.

About the Author

N. A. Triptow graduated from The University of Utah with a Bachelor of Arts in English Teaching with minors in History Teaching, Theatre, and British Studies. She teaches high school English and Film Studies. She is currently pursuing a Master of Science in Strategic Communication and Advertising from Purdue University. In her free time, you can find her reading, watching and analyzing movies and television shows, attending the theatre, going on walks or hikes, and playing board or video games with family and friends. She lives in Utah.

For more from Nicole, including character artwork, playlists, swag, excerpts, trailers, and more, visit her website!

A hardback book, a magic system enamel mug, and a Dartwood house tote bag (as shown here)
Ends February 4, 2021
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A little bit of luck and there's... Simply You | Maggie Wild | Excerpt + Giveaway

2021-01-12T08:00:00.052+08:00

She needs someone she can count on. He’s gun-shy after being hurt. Can a brush with fate in a rained-out English village turn into enduring love?

Simply You

Maggie Wild

Publication Date: January 12, 2021

Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

Sarah Tildon thinks she’s found the perfect man. But after her overbearing future mother-in-law insists her quiet country wedding become a high-society shindig, she sets out on a two-week ride to rethink her plans. Stranded when her bicycle is stolen in a picturesque hamlet, she’s touched by the kindness of a handsome young farmer who comes to her rescue.

The big city failed Michael Marsden’s ample ambitions. After his fiancée cheats on him, he turns his back on the hustle and bustle and takes on a farm to prove he can lead a self-sufficient life. And taken by surprise when a charming outsider helps sing his hens into laying, he realizes his newfound Eden is missing its Eve.

Unexpectedly falling for the sweet homesteader, Sarah is torn between the security of a gilded cage and the precarious freedom of raising chickens. And when her fiancé arrives to bring her back to London, Michael fears she’ll leave him with yet another shattered heart.

Will this unlikely couple throw caution to the wind and embrace a destined second chance?

Simply You is the first book in the heartwarming Hope Valley Romance series. If you like fun heroines, pastoral backdrops, and endearing courtships, then you’ll adore Maggie Wild’s sweet tale.

Sarah lay on her back in the center of the stone circle, her whole body softened by the beers they’d drunk. Beside her, Michael plucked at the grass. The wavering sound of music drifted up from the village, ebbing and flowing as the wind carried the sound toward them. In the lulls, the silence lapped over them, interrupted by the occasional twittering of a bird heading in for the evening. Sarah gazed out across the moors fading now into the late pink glow of evening. She loved the way the light changed as the day went on, highlighting the colors of the heather, the trees, the grass. Maybe before she left she would come up here in the early morning, watch the sun rise over the village. Maybe Michael would come with her.

For the first time in a long time, Sarah felt alive. Away from the confines of Amir’s family and the expectations of her behavior, she could be herself and she was surprised to find that who she was wasn’t who she’d expected. She liked this Sarah.

She played back the events of the evening, relishing again the simple joy of the evening spent with Michael and his family. She pictured Nicki with her hair stuck to her face from hours of non-stop dancing, the smear of dirt on Kate’s cheek where she’d taken a tumble in the sack race. She tried to imagine Claudette climbing into an old potato sack and jumping down the length of a field for fun. Claudette and fun weren’t two things that often went together.

She thought then about flying through the air with Madison and George. That was the thing that was sticking in her chest. In the future life she’d so carefully mapped out, would she ever ride a fairground ride with her children and laugh like she’d laughed tonight? Would Amir ever take her by the hand and give her a piggy back up to a stone circle at the top of a hill? So much about her life with Amir was safe and comfortable, what she’d thought she always wanted. But tonight she had felt the opposite, free and a little reckless, but instead of scaring her, it had felt good.

Could I live this life? she thought. This unstable, scary, wonderful life?

Michael had been quiet for a while and she turned to see if he was mesmerized by the light too. But he wasn’t. He was hunched over, working intently on something in his hands.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

He didn’t respond at first and she wondered if he’d heard her, then he looked up and smiled. It was such a lovely boyish grin and it made her tickle inside.

“I made you a present,” he said, then suddenly looked coy. He held out the thing he’d been so focused on and she saw it was a long thin loop: a daisy chain. She laughed and Michael seemed suddenly embarrassed. He started to put it down, but she leaned forward, ducking her head.

“It’s silly,” he said.

“No. I love it.”

He smiled again and it filled his entire face. She felt the glow of it transmit into her. He leaned in and placed the necklace of flowers around her neck. She arranged it so it fell neatly down the front of her dress. When she looked back up he hadn’t moved. His face was inches from hers and before she could stop herself, she leaned in and kissed him.

About the Author

Maggie Wild lives in California Wine Country with her own Mr. Right and a small collection of furry friends. A native of Yorkshire, England, she returns “home” every day through her fictional worlds. When not writing her fun, contemporary romance stories, she loves to watch the birds in her garden and hike through the local redwoods.

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Her voice was her prison... Ruinsong by Julia Ember | Excerpt + Giveaway

2020-11-24T12:30:00.002+08:00

In Julia Ember’s dark and lush LGBTQ+ romantic fantasy Ruinsong, two young women from rival factions must work together to reunite their country, as they wrestle with their feelings for each other.

Ruinsong
Julia Ember
Published by: Farrar Straus and Giroux
Publication Date: November 24, 2020
Genres: Young Adult, Fantasy, LGBTQ+, Romance

Her voice was her prison…
Now it’s her weapon.

In a world where magic is sung, a powerful mage named Cadence must choose between the two. For years, she has been forced to torture her country’s disgraced nobility at her ruthless queen’s bidding.

But when she is reunited with her childhood friend, a noblewoman with ties to the underground rebellion, she must finally make a choice: Take a stand to free their country from oppression, or follow in the queen’s footsteps and become a monster herself.

I allow Lacerde to dress me without turning to examine myself in the mirror. I don’t want to see how I look, how they’ve fashioned me. In my mind, I already see stains of blood on the muslin fabric of my skirt, dotting the white leather of my gloves. Lacerde adjusts my skirt and smooths my hair. Then, with a grunt, she bends down and buffs my new shoes to a gleam.

She opens the door for me so I don’t get my gloves dirty and leads me down the dark corridor. My dressing room is the only one in use. All the others are boarded up, so that no one will use them to hide.

I imagine what the Opera Hall must have been like years ago, when so many singers performed here together for more willing audiences. The corridors would have been filled with the sounds of laughter, rustling taffeta costumes, and a chorus of warm-up scales. Above, the audience would be straining to get inside the house, clinking glasses together at the theatre bar, speculating on the wonders to come.

If I strain my ear, I can still hear the echo of their merriment in the walls, obscured by the more recent cacophony of despair and pain. The smell of thousands of spellsongs, layered atop one another for centuries, lingers in the musty air. It’s been eight years since this place functioned as a real theatre, but the Opera Hall remembers.

We climb the stairs up onto the stage. Elene and Lord Durand, her newly elevated pet footman, stand together on the edge, shouting instructions down to the conductor in the orchestra pit.

Elene glances up and nods to Lacerde, who positions me at center stage without releasing me. It’s as if they think I will run, even though there is no where to go.

No one has dimmed the gas lamps that line the theatre’s aisles yet, so I have a full view. The theatre is much grander than our replica at the academy. The ceiling bears a centuries-old mural of Adela gifting the first mage with magic. The singer kneels beside the sacred pool, and the goddess rises from the water, her mouth open with song and her arms spread wide. Musical notes surround them, each flecked with real gold leaf.

Portraits of the three other goddesses border the mural. Odetta, the goddess of spring and renewal, wearing a silver mask that covers her eyes and cheeks, and holding a sparrow’s skeleton in her cupped hands. Karina, goddess of justice and winter, thin and draped in a linen sheath, with her arms wide. Marena, the autumn goddess of war, chin lifted proudly, staring down with her hypnotic purple eyes, bejeweled with human teeth.

Beneath, row upon row of tightly packed red velvet seats stretch back to the imposing black doors at the rear of the theatre. They’re made from mageglass, a material designed by the elementals: sand spun, dyed and hardened so that not even diamond bullets could shatter it. Hundreds of people will fill the house tonight. Dame Ava, the queen’s former principal, told me that sometimes there are so many that folk have to stand along the walls.

My knees start to shake at the sight. My mouth goes dry.

All these seats. All these people. My unshed tears blur the rows of red seats together, like a smear of blood.

About the Author

Julia Ember is the author of The Seafarer's Kiss duology, a Norse myth inspired retelling of The Little Mermaid, published by Interlude Press (Duet Books), and Ruinsong, a standalone high fantasy reimagining of The Phantom of the Opera, forthcoming from Macmillan Kids (FSG) in November 2020. She lives with her wife and two fluffy cats in the Pacific Northwest.

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Print copy of RuinsongEnds December 3, 2020
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Cinderella's time-honored story gets some all-new twists | Bandits and Ball Gowns by Christina Bauer

2020-11-10T19:00:00.128+08:00

I’m Magicorum, meaning I’m one of the lucky folks whose future is locked into a fairy tale life template. In my case, that’s Cinderella.

Bandits and Ball Gowns

Fairy Tales of the Magicorum #5

Christina Bauer

Publication Date: November 10, 2020

Genres: Young Adult, Paranormal, Retellings

One Prince Finds True Love ... And Risks It All

Elle Cynder has fallen hard for Alec, the 'prince' of Le Charme Jewelers. Time for some happily in their ever after, right?

Not so much.

While the new couple shares joyful moments--and sizzling kisses--serious trouble is brewing. Elle's evil stepmother, Marchesa, schemes with none other than Alec's twisted father, Legend. Their plan? Destroy Elle and Alec, along with everything the young lovers hold dear, including Bry, Knox, and Wilhelm.

Another Royal Freezes His Heart ... But For How Long?

As a prince of the dark fae, Jacoby focuses on one goal: avoid assassination. Marrying Elle would certainly aid in that cause, considering how she's both a Cinderella life template and a powerful fae warden. Even better, Jacoby doesn't truly love Elle. In court life, deep romantic attachments only mean certain death.

Then Jacoby notices Elle's youngest stepsister, Agatha.

For the first time in his life, Jacoby's cold heart warms with true affection. The elven prince struggles to ignore his feelings, but it might be a losing battle. And what would the prince's newfound emotions mean for Elle and Alec? Could Jacoby really stand by and watch another's true love be destroyed?

Buckle up for a wild ride as Cinderella's time-honored story gets some all-new twists.

Stomp… stomp… stomp…

Another morning, another mob of enchanted humans are marching outside my apartment, shouting “Elle, Elle, we want Elle!”

Not a surprise.

Lately, supernatural stalkers have been drawn to me like subway rats to a dropped Egg McMuffin. No question why, either. It’s because I’m Magicorum, meaning I’m one of the lucky folks whose future is locked into a fairy tale life template. In my case, that’s Cinderella. Sadly, there’s a reason it’s called the Grimms’ Fairy Tales and not the Chipper Funtime Fables. When magic’s in the mix, stuff turns ugly. Humans become enchanted. Shouting is involved. I’m forced into odd footwear. You get the idea.

Not that I worry about it too much. I take my Cinderella-ness, kick it in the ass and call it a bitch. Boom.

Rolling over, I peep through the glass pane and scan the sidewalk below. Since my apartment is twenty stories up, I’ve got a perfect view. Sure enough, about thirty humans mill around the concrete. They aren’t alone.

She waits, too.

Skye.

And I’m the only one who can see her. A heavy sense of dread settles into my bones.

To me, Skye appears to be about my age—meaning eighteen—and she’s made of mist and magic. When solid, Skye resembles a sheriff from the Old West who has blonde hair, black chaps and a six shooter. When she’s hazy, Skye looks like…

A shiver runs across my shoulders. Can’t think about that now.

Sensing my attention, Skye locks onto my line of vision. I could look away, but that’d be admitting that Skye gets to me. Which she doesn’t. Mostly.

Hold her gaze, Elle.

Every morning, Skye finds a new and decidedly strange way to greet me. Today, she crosses her eyes while sticking out her tongue.

Gah. On second thought, maybe I should’ve looked away. This woman is nuttier than cashew pie.

About the Author

Christina Bauer knows how to tell stories about kick-ass women. In her best selling Angelbound series, the heroine is a part-demon girl who loves to fight in Purgatory’s Arena and falls in love with a part-angel prince. This young adult best seller has driven more than 500,000 ebook downloads and 9,000 reviews on Goodreads and retailers. It is now available as an audiobook on Audible and iTunes.

Bauer has also told the story of the Women’s March on Washington by leading PR efforts for the Massachusetts Chapter. Her pre-event press release—the only one sent out on a major wire service—resulted in more than 19,000 global impressions and redistribution by over 350 different media entities including the Associated Press.

Christina graduated from Syracuse University’s Newhouse School with BA’s in English along with Television, Radio, and Film Production. She lives in Newton, MA with her husband, son, and semi-insane golden retriever, Ruby.

Be the first to know about new releases from Christina by signing up for her newsletter: http://tinyurl.com/CBupdates

Stalk Christina on Social Media – She Loves It!

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Tour Schedule

November 9th

–I Smell Sheep >> Guest post

–cupcakesandbookshelves >> Excerpt

–Find Your Next Reading >> Excerpt

–Living in a Bookworld >> Excerpt

November 10th

–diary of a wannabe writer >> Review

–Rincón de Joss >> Excerpt

–Literary Gold >> Excerpt

–Whatever You Can Still Betray >> Excerpt

November 11th

–Ilovebooksandstuffblog >> Excerpt

–Radioactive Book Reviews >> Review

–Damsel in the Bookland >> Guest post

November 12th

–Angel’s Guilty Pleasures >> Excerpt

–Adventures in Writing >> Excerpt

–El rincón de Becks >> Review

November 13th

–Phaxires >> Review

–BooksBooks&More >> Guest post

–The Avid Reader >> Review

–The Book Junkie Reads . . . >> Review

November 16th

–Rising Indies United >> Excerpt

–Rockin’ Book Reviews >> Review

–BookMojo >> Excerpt

November 17th

–Jazzy Book Reviews >> Interview

–The Youngvamp’s Haven >> Review

–LenniLand >> Review

November 18th

–Aubrey Wynne: Timeless Love >> Excerpt

–breen.rb >> Review

–Books, Tea, Healthy Me >> Interview

November 19th

–Book Butterfly in Dreamland >> Review

–Day Leitao >> Interview

–Books A-Brewin’ >> Excerpt

November 20th

–Valerie Ullmer | Romance Author >> Excerpt

–Teatime and Books >> Excerpt

–Ingrid’s Book Blog >> Review

Welcome to Kissing Creek and take Kissing Lessons by Stefanie London

2020-11-02T19:00:00.121+08:00

Today I have the excerpt tour of Stefanie London’s KISSING LONDON! Check out this gorgeous new romance and be sure to get your copy today!

Kissing Lessons

Stefanie London

Publication Date: November 9, 2020

Genres: Contemporary, Holiday Romance

Audrey Miller doesn’t believe in happily-ever-after, so she is definitely living in the wrong town. But she’s never getting out of Kissing Creek, because playing pseudo-mom for her younger siblings doesn’t leave time for much else. She’ll do anything to make sure they don’t end up stuck like she is, working as a barista in a college town, serving Pink Passion mochas with Chocolate Smooch donuts.

Then Ronan Walsh, a new young professor and walking cliché, right down to the elbow patches on his blazer, steps in for a coffee and into her life. She knows his type—intelligent and charming, yet sweet as a cinnamon roll, the sort of man she’s inevitably attracted to but is always out of her league. So why does someone like him have any interest in a worker bee with no future?

Her bland-as-oatmeal existence has nothing to offer, but Ronan’s temporary teaching position is only a stepping stone on his way to somewhere else. He isn’t here to put down roots, Audrey’s roots are firmly planted—neither of them is looking for love. And maybe that’s just perfect.

But in a small town called Kissing Creek, sometimes love can be impossible to avoid...

Exclusive Excerpt

Audrey cocked her head. “You know, we’ve been warned about people like you.”

“People posing as professors.” She waggled her finger at him and made a teasing, tutting sound.

“Posing?” Ronan literally studied the very things which made people who they are—the very fiber of their motivations and morals. He would never scam someone. But this wasn’t the first time someone had questioned him because he was younger than average. “I’m a professor at Harrison Beech College. I don’t have my faculty card yet, that’s all.”

“You really thought you could get one past me by trying to look the part?” She shook her head. “The elbow patches were a good attempt, but don’t you think they’re a little cliché?”

Now she was insulting his fashion choices? He blinked. “What’s wrong with elbow patches?”

“It’s like you Googled ‘what do professors wear?’ and then bought the first thing you saw.” She bit down on her lip as if stifling a laugh.

Everyone was looking at him now, but Ronan had always been impervious to embarrassment. Maybe it was years of growing up with his Irish grandmother who was as blunt as a hammer.

Although he had Googled that exact question on his first day as a professor in his late twenties. He’d been more insecure back then, feeling the age gap between him and his colleagues and his lack of life experience like a weight around his neck. These days he’d learned to hold his own, academically and personally.

And he damn well liked his elbow patches.

About the Author

Stefanie London is a multi award-winning, USA Today bestselling author of contemporary romances and romantic comedies. Stefanie’s books have been called “genuinely entertaining and memorable” by Booklist, and “Elegant, descriptive and delectable” by RT magazine. Her stories have won multiple industry awards, including the HOLT Medallion and OKRWA National Reader's Choice Award, and she has been nominated for the Romance Writers of America RITA award.Originally from Australia, Stefanie now lives in Toronto with her very own hero and is currently in the process of doing her best to travel the world. She frequently indulges in her passions for good coffee, lipstick, romance novels and anything zombie-related.

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A Second Chance Seasoned Over 30 | Better Late Than Never by Ada Austen | Excerpt + Giveaway

2020-10-22T19:00:00.000+08:00

Checklist for Best Romance Novel Ever

✓ BFF does not get left behind!

✓ A dress with working pockets!

✓ Toast to Girls Night Out!

✓ Toast to Damn the Patriarchy!

Checklist for Best Couple Ever

✓ He’s kind, compassionate and patient.

✓ He’s sexy, ripped and funny.

✓ She’s loud, bold and strong.

✓ She’s devoted to her BFF and her Art.

✓ They’re working together to raise their teenager.

Checklist for Best Hero Ever

✓ He makes a gift for her BFF!

✓ He’s sweet at that Time of the Month!

✓ He buys her a Romance Novel!

✓ He’s a Devoted Dad!

✓ He takes as long as she needs!

“What are we even doing here together?” said Emily. “We have nothing in common.”

“Let’s make this an experiment, to test that, okay?” said Carrie. “Or at least an experiment to see how long we can go without fighting?”

They were in a Mall where Emily had agreed Carrie could take her to buy clothes for the new school year. They turned a corner and Emily lingered, looking into the window.

“I love the clothes in this store,” said Emily, wistfully.

“So do I,” said Carrie.

The clothes were of high quality and had a unique style, but they were so pricey.

“Yeah,” Emily said quietly.

“We could go in and look, Em. You like them. I like them.”

“I don’t want to go in with you. Shopping with my mom?” Emily looked around as if checking if anyone she knew was nearby.

“We can act like we’re not together.” Liking this store was something they had in common. It seemed important to act on that.

“No. I’d rather not. You’re not going to buy me anything in there. Why torture myself, looking at things I want that I can’t have?” Emily began walking away.

“Wait! What if I promise you that I’ll buy you something?”

“And you’ll buy something for yourself, too?”

“Do you think I need something?” That was sweet, Emily looking out for her.

“ Yes! Something made in this century would be a good look on you, for a change.”

It was not the right time to explain vintage versus vintage-style or the merits of quality craftsmanship of earlier times.

“Let’s do it, then!” said Carrie.

Emily’s face lit up, which made Carrie happy.

“Really?”

“Really!” It would be fun for both of them.

“But Mom, promise me you’re not going to argue about what I choose? That would ruin it, if we ended up killing each other over what I can wear.”

“Right. We must avoid killing each other. Let’s meet at the register then. But promise me it won’t be too expensive, okay? And one item, not a wardrobe?”

“It’s a deal.”

They giggled together and entered the store, each walking to opposite walls.

Carrie took her time, touching the fabrics, marveling at the embroidery and hand-sewn embellishments as she wandered the shop, gathering items that particularly called to her.

She tried on several dresses. There was one that was a perfect fit. It was more trendy than she normally wore, but she loved the way it fit and made her feel. Plus, working pockets! Well, of course, this was the one.

She saw Emily near the register.

“I’m ready,” she said to her, walking up.

“Me too,” said Em. “Oh my god! What are you doing, Mom?”

“What are you yelling at me for?”

Emily held her dress out for Carrie to see. It was the same dress as Carrie’s.

“No way!”

“You followed me!” yelled Emily.

“I didn’t follow you! I wouldn’t do that. I love this dress. But it’s okay. You get it. I’ll find something else.”

“Ew, no! I’m not wearing a dress my mother would wear. You get it.”

Carrie hesitated. “Well, wait. I don’t know if I want it now. I don’t want to be dressing like a teenager.”

Emily giggled, then laughed. Carrie laughed, too. The customers in line ahead of them and the cashier laughed with them. Without a word, together, they put the dresses back on the rack and left the store, still laughing.

“How did that happen? You hardly ever wear dresses,” said Carrie.

“The pockets,” said Emily.

“Of course. Hey, let’s go for ice cream,” said Carrie.

“Okay, but no sharing! Even if we both want the same thing.”

“No problem,” said Carrie.

Better Late Than Never

Ada Austen

Publication Date: October 20, 2020

Genres: Adult, Contemporary Romance

Carrie’s a passionate artist and a Jersey Girl with seawater in her veins. She makes her art from the treasures she collects each day, walking the beaches of the New Jersey Shore.

Manny’s an architect and college professor. An Apache Native from New Mexico, he’s more at home in the mountains, but he moves to the Jersey Shore to be a better Dad to their teenage daughter.

Carrie’s Jersey. She doesn’t do calm. Manny’s quiet and takes his time to react. They were college sweethearts. Now, they’re strangers, each remembering the past differently.

Manny discovers his new boss wants to tear down Carrie’s house. Carrie will blow the roof off herself if she finds out. Manny must keep it from her, but there’s another secret that she’s been keeping from him. What will it take for them to learn to trust each other?

Together they will redefine the meaning of love, family and home.

A feel-good standalone story of multicultural romance with adult sex, realistic cursing, a bitch of a heroine, Jersey sarcasm and your next book boyfriend!

Content Warning: There is mention of a sexual assault.

About the Author

Ada Austen was born a Jersey Girl. She has lived in Monmouth County, NJ beach towns from Atlantic Highlands to Belmar. She currently lives in a small coastal city on the New Jersey shore called Asbury Park, and never plans to leave. She walks daily at the ocean, collecting shells, beachglass and stories.

Ada's first novel, Helping Each Other, was published in October 2016. It is no longer in print, but she plans to release a revised edition someday. Her second novel, Better Late Than Never, is targeted for October 2020 release. She's now working on her third novel, Boardwalk Ice which is set in Asbury Park. She's targeting a 2021 release.

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Romancing the Holidays | A First Coast Romance Writers Anthology

2020-09-22T12:31:00.000+08:00

A dozen ways to fall in love at the holidays...

Come celebrate the holidays with these dozen unique romances, ranging from sweet to steamy and all ending with a happily-ever-after. This anthology of short stories, written by multi-award-winning authors, including New York Times best-selling author, Alyssa Day, will transport you from Labor Day and Halloween antics to Christmas and Valentine romantics. Its stories will whisk you away into contemporary, historical, and paranormal worlds where love prevails. So, savor the authors featured in this enchanting book and bet your heart on some romantic cheer while you enjoy these twelve ways to fall in love.

Proceeds from this novel benefit First Coast Romance Writers, a non-profit chapter of Romance Writers of America that helps writers hone their craft and expand their knowledge of the publishing industry. A portion of the proceeds are also donated to FeedAmerica.org.

Romancing the Holidays
A First Coast Romance Writers Anthology
Publication Date: September 22, 2020
Genres: Adult, Romance, Contemporary

Valentine's Day in Atlantis by Alyssa Day

When Atlantis's fierce warrior and captain of the king's guard Marcus finally decides to go after the woman he's loved for more than a decade, the only thing stopping him is the very odd human ideas about how to celebrate Valentine's Day… and the lady herself. Can a love that's deeper than the ocean find its way in a second-chance romance?

Faking It for the Holidaysby Lia Davis

Julius probably shouldn’t be as happy as he was about his parents going on a cruise the week of Christmas. But he was. For the first time since he met his best friend and future wife—although she didn’t know that yet—he would be able to spend a normal, quiet, holiday season with Tara.

Just the two of them.

An Elf's Challengeby Vickey Wollan

Angelina Tinsel, toy painter, didn’t know her father forbid Zack Holly, woodworker, from speaking to her. A generations-old feud between the two departments causes ongoing elfin-relations issues. An all seeing Santa knows about the elves’ attraction and decides encouraging it might help end the fighting. When Santa’s Claus High assignment lands Angelina in the woodshop, how will she work past family loyalties and stereotypes to find love?

Grave Promisesby Melody Johnson

What does a witch, her former high school crush, and a ghost have in common? They’re stuck in the same house on Halloween, and no one is getting out until everyone resolves their unfinished business.

A Friendsgiving Riot by Karen Renee

His hand in my hair let go so he could cup my cheek. “We could make what we have better. Suzy, I don’t want to lose you either. But I can’t bide my time any longer. Had we eaten turkey together last night, I’d have told you you’re what I’m most thankful for, and we’d have damn sure taken the next step. That didn’t happen, so ultimatums aren’t normally my style, but either you want this with me, or you don’t.”

Labor Day Moonlight by C.L. Thomas

Drunk, and possibly drugged, Jessica Cane has no choice but to trust Mckale, a gentleman with kind eyes, to get her home.

It's a morning of revelations when she wakes in a strange cabin and her savior rescues her from a creature that poses as human.

Attraction grows between the pair, but when the moon rises, she discovers that the monster he saved her from isn’t the only beast she should fear.

A Ghost of a Chance on Love by Gloria Ferguson

Leave it to her mom to try to find her eldest daughter an earthly soulmate from beyond the grave. Kate would find her own Romeo.

On her own terms. And in her own time.

A Pug Thanksgiving by Leah Miles

“Hi! Sorry I’m late.”

“Haven’t been here long.” Echo straightened away from the wall and quirked an eyebrow. “Whatcha got in the bag?”

“Oh, this is Roxy. Roxy meet Echo.”And I just introduced my dog like an actual person.

A Magical Fall by Debby Grahl

Sabrina frowned as she recalled what she’d seen but her muddled brain hadn’t taken in. Obviously, he was the U.S. marshal Priscilla had told them about. It was the translucent figure standing behind him that interested Sabrina. Throughout her life, she’d encountered ghosts, but this one pulsated with desperation.

The Honeybee: A Samhain Tale by P.K. Brent

Truth be told, Connor longed for far more than food, ale, and gaiety. A long cold winter lay ahead, and he would be alone in his cottage, with no one for company or to share the long nights. Connor glanced at the women as they danced with lively partners, passed around the food, or gathered up the crockery. None suited him and he suited none of them. Most were either too young, too old, married, engaged, or otherwise attached. The ones he admired most were also the ones most out of reach. News travels fast and everyone knew that Connor paid an outrageously large dowry to the man his sister married, which made him damaged goods for more reasons than one.

His Christmas Rose by Maggie FitzRoy

And then he did kiss her. Reaching for her hands, he took her into his arms and put his lips to hers as feelings of love and passion flooded through him such as he’d never felt before.

This was love. True love. He was ready, and he sure hoped she’d say “yes.”

The Luckiest Hat by Sara Walker

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If we’re both still single when we’re thirty, we’ll marry each other . . .| Prescription for a Lonely Heart by Rosalie Jardin

2020-09-21T07:01:00.001+08:00

The most popular boy in high school.

A wannabe pharmacist.

A marriage pact.

What could go wrong?

Prescription for a Lonely Heart
Hearts in Glencoe City #1Rosalie Jardin
Publication Date: September 21, 2020
Genres: Adult, Comedy Romance, Contemporary

“If we’re both still single when we’re thirty, we’ll marry each other . . .”

The marriage pact was made during a lazy day at the beach, half in jest, and seemingly forgotten by the boy who started it.

But ten years later, Kay hadn’t forgotten. She’s still shy and introverted, not interested in relationships. So when Adrian reappears in her life—two years early—and asks her to marry him now, she surprises herself by agreeing.

So now she must deal with her mother’s disapproval, his brother’s hostility, and a load of self-doubt. Can she forge a real relationship with Adrian? Has he really changed from a ladies man to someone she can trust? Will she be able to let go of everything she’s ever thought she wanted and reach out to grab a new future?

"We should make a marriage pact." My eyes almost popped out. My heart, too. "You know? If we both aren't married by the age of thirty, we'll marry each other."

"What?!" Now it was my turn to throw my head back and laugh. I laughed so hard, the sides of my stomach ached. "Oh no, no, no, no, no. No. That is not something I'm interested in, sorry."

"Obviously if we end up marrying other people, the deal is null and void," he pointed out. It did nothing to quash my resistance. "But you're one of the nicest girls I know and I like hanging out with you. And I’m pretty sure that you can tolerate me for more than five minutes.”

My eyes were as wide as saucers. Was he for real? “I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear all that, Adrian. You know you’re talking nonsense, right?”

“I’m not! Do you think I’m kidding? Why wouldn’t I make this pact with you?"

"Because a lot can happen in twelve years!" I stood up from my beach chair, exasperated. Where was this coming from? Did he conveniently forget this past year when we barely said a word to each other? The summer heat was messing with his brain. "People change, things change, the world changes! Pacts are made one day and broken the next."

"The world can change all it wants, but if I'm able, I'll always keep this promise no matter what." The way he looked at me, eyes wide open with a hint of boyish charm, reminded me of why he was popular with the ladies at school. "I get that things may change and we may both end up married to other people and we could laugh about this later. But I can't think of a better person to take this kind of pact with."

My eyes fluttered closed. I willed myself to remain calm, and ordered my heart to keep steady. I had to admit that there was something flattering about being “proposed to” (and I’m using the phrase loosely) by the most "desirable" (or at least that’s what I’m told) guy in school. Between that wild wavy black hair, dark eyes, and tanned skin, he was pleasing on the eyes. If you asked everyone else what made Adrian so attractive, they’d point out his toned muscular body or that bright smile of his. But it was his kind heart that mattered to me more.

If anyone could get me to consider agreeing to this kind of pact, it was him.

About the Author

Rosalie Jardin is the pen name an American-born author living in British Columbia. Writing has been a passion since she was five, beginning with telling stories- which often got her in trouble with her teachers because they kept catching her writing instead of doing her schoolwork.

Rosalie considers herself to be living the glamorous geek mom life and channels that energy into her writings and her debut novel. Her characters rumble around in her head, demanding to have their stories told and, like any good author, she is just doing what she’s told.

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When Life Gives You Lemons Instead of Lattes by Rayna York | Excerpt + Giveaway

2020-08-24T12:30:00.000+08:00

What if losing everything is exactly what you need?

Welcome to my stop on the blog tour for When Life Gives You Lemons Instead of Lattes by Rayna York!

Read an excerpt and enter the giveway!

When Life Gives You Lemons Instead of Lattes
Rayna York
Publication Date: July 2, 2020
Genre: Romance, Contemporary

Kylie’s summer after high school graduation was supposed to be celebrated in Europe, not some podunk town in Ohio. But when the FBI shows up at her parents’ California beach house looking for her father, the life she’s known, suddenly disintegrates.

With the family assets frozen and her father on the run, the only place left to go is a dilapidated house that once belonged to her great-grandmother. Now her family is broke, her social status is in ruins, and the only internet access is at a café where a nerdy barista boy wants to be her new best friend.

But life has a funny way of teaching its lessons and being catapulted into this new reality might be the help she needs to learn that sometimes you have to let go of everything you know to discover what is real.

With unlikely friendships, family secrets, and a budding romance, Rayna York crafts a heart-warming story about the deception of appearances and starting over in unexpected places.

“Mom, who are these people?” I demand, standing beside her in defense mode. A stocky looking man in a cheap suit and bad haircut looms in front of us while several beefy men climb out of vehicles behind him.

I was making a mixed-green, berry smoothie when the doorbell rang. It’s not my usual practice to care who’s at the door, but I’m expecting a delivery.

“Ma’am, I’m Special Agent John Stafford of the FBI.” He flashes his badge before snapping it closed and attaching it to his belt. “When was the last time you saw your husband?”

“What? Um . . . this morning.”

Several agents push past us into the house, one of them bumping into me. “Excuse you!” I give him my best you-are-lower-than-scum glare.

“He left for work at seven.” A loud noise behind us makes her jump and has us both turning to see several agents ransacking our living room. “What’s this all about?”

Harlow, my younger sister, suddenly appears and wraps her arms tightly around my waist. “Mom, Kylie, what—what’s going on?”

Seeing her distress has my claws coming out, which is never pretty. “Mom! They can’t just barge in here. Get them to show you a warrant!” She can be so stupid sometimes.

Detective Stafford gives me a look like I’m irrelevant before returning his attention to my mother. “We might want to have this conversation in private,” he says, indicating that “we” doesn’t include me.

I cross my arms over my chest. “I’m not leaving!”

“Go ahead, detective. Whether they find out now or later isn’t going to change things.”

Good answer.

“If that is your preference,” he says with cold authority. “Jared Mallory James is wanted for fraud and embezzlement. And as he has refused to abide by our summons, is now a fugitive of the law.”

My mother gasps. “Are you sure?”

“That’s total bullshit! Mom, they’re lying.”

Harlow moves to her side. “I don’t understand.”

“It’s okay, honey.” Mom pats her back in an attempt to soothe. “Why don’t you go to your room and watch TV?”

“No. Just explain what he’s talking about.” She sounds panicky. She’s nine. I can’t blame her.

“Harlow, honey. Just give me a minute. I’ll explain everything to you when I know more. Kylie, will you please go with her?”

“No. These people are destroying our house!” And I don’t want her believing this guy’s bullshit story. She’s never had a backbone, and I don’t trust her to ask the right questions.

Another agent walks up and hands Detective Stafford a paper. “Thank you,” he says, then holds the paper up in front of us. “As of this moment, all properties have been seized and accounts frozen. You have five days to vacate the premises. Nothing—”

“What?” I shriek.

He ignores me, continuing, “Nothing in this house can be removed except those items of a personal nature. You can keep your phones but all other electronics, including computers, must remain.”

“Mom!”

“Kylie! Please. You’re not helping. Where are we supposed to go, Agent?”

“That is not my concern, ma’am.”

“You’re just going to let him kick us out?” My mother holds up a hand, attempting to silence me. As if she has the power.

“I understand it’s not your concern, Agent, but I have two children. What am I supposed to do without any money?”

He gives her a look of disdain before stepping past us into the house. The guy probably makes beans for a living, sees a multi-million-dollar house, and thinks we deserve what’s coming to us.

“Thanks for your sensitivity and concern.” I scowl after him, then turn back to my Mom, who’s staring off into the front yard. “What’s wrong with you? Do something!”

She turns to me. “What do you want me to do?”

Her expression has me pausing. I’ve never seen her look so beaten, dejected. “Well . . . for starters, you’re not even questioning him. You know Dad couldn’t have done this—whatever they’re accusing him of.”

She shrugs her shoulders and walks off, taking Harlow with her.

“Seriously?” I chase after her. “Come on! This is Dad we're talking about. He works his ass off. He would never steal money. Why would he? We’ve got money out the yin-yang!”

“So it would seem,” is all she says before stepping out the back door with Harlow in tow.

I gawk at her as they pass our infinity pool and walk down the boardwalk to the beach. When they disappear behind the tall grass, I take my phone from my back pocket and call my dad. He’s going to be so pissed when he hears what’s going on. I squint against the brightness of the sun. And how can she just walk away from me like that?

The phone rings and rings with no answer, so I text him.

“Hey!” I holler as an agent fumbles a valuable glass sculpture. “You break it, you buy it!”

He tilts his head, giving me a bored expression before setting it back on the shelf.

Idiot.

I look at my phone again, willing it to ring or alert me that I have a text saying he’s on his way and not to worry—that he will fillet these dickheads and serve them up a healthy portion of whoop-ass the moment he arrives. But there’s nothing.

He’s probably in a meeting. He always turns his phone off.

No. If he was in a meeting, they would have found him at work.

Maybe the meeting was somewhere else?

I don’t know. Whatever. He just needs to freakin’ respond.

Seeing agents start up the stairs to the second floor reminds me of what Stafford said about the computers. I rush up behind them, slither past, then bolt to my room.

“Hey!” one of them shouts, rushing up behind me.

“Gotta change.” I slam the door in his face and quickly lock it.

“Open up!” He bangs on the door.

About the Author

Rayna York grew up with hippie parents that liked to adventure. Where change was the norm, books were her constant—a way to escape. As an adult, many careers came and went, but writing has always been her passion. Everything I Knew to be True is her first published novel.

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August 24

Whatever You Can Still Betray https://whateveryoucanstillbetray.blogspot.com/ Promo Post

Living in a Bookworld https://livinginabookworld.blogspot.gr Promo Post

Her Book Thoughts http://herbookthoughts.reads-it.com Review

Bookriot http://anjedah.wordpress.com/ Review

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August 26

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August 28

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Once Upon a Time... | Booked for Murder by R.J. Blain | Excerpt + Giveaway

2020-08-10T12:30:00.029+08:00

Once upon a time, I had lived on the edge, but I’d fallen off somehow, emerging scarred and broken. Once upon a time, I’d lived in the ivory tower, looking down on the streets below in search of threats and fortune. I’d found both to a frightening degree. Once upon a time, I’d been the lethal shadow of a man who wanted to change the world to his liking.

Booked for Murder

Vigilante Magical Librarians #1

R.J. Blain

Publication Date: August 18, 2020

Genres: Adult, Urban Fantasy

Life as a bodyguard and driver for the rich, famous, and powerful is dangerous on a good day, and after sustaining a crippling injury while on duty, Janette’s left with few options. Having signed a ‘for life’ contract but unable to work, she uses her skills to disappear.

Her new life as a librarian suits her. Nobody cares she limps and sometimes requires a cane to walk. She’s wanted for her knowledge, not her lethal magic. She’s surrounded by books, a woman’s best friend.

But when her former employer’s best friend is murdered on the steps of her library, old loyalties and secrets might destroy her—or set her free.

Teaming up with her co-workers to find the killer might keep her from being booked for murder, but unless she’s careful, she’ll find out exactly how far her ex-boss will go to reclaim what is rightfully his.

Chapter 1

Once upon a time, I had lived on the edge, but I’d fallen off somehow, emerging scarred and broken. Once upon a time, I’d lived in the ivory tower, looking down on the streets below in search of threats and fortune. I’d found both to a frightening degree. Once upon a time, I’d been the lethal shadow of a man who wanted to change the world to his liking.

I assumed he still did. Bradley Hampton wasn’t the kind to quit once he decided to do something.

A sports car roared by, and it surprised me to discover I missed my once upon a time.

The vehicle, a red Bugatti worth more than the idiot who drove it, darted through traffic. I scoffed at the driver’s inaccuracies, skirting too close to the lines for anyone’s comfort. Precision mattered when controlling a car at high speeds—or at any speed, really. A single tap of the brake could end lives or save them. The wrong turn of the wheel could result in a crash. Such a mistake, not on my part, had cost me my once upon a time, and a chill sliced through me at the memories the red vehicle revived.

Once upon a time, my job had been to drive one of those cars, protect the man I’d been sworn to for life, and rise above all others except for him.

Bradley Hampton wanted only the best and to be the best, and he’d expected more from me than anyone else.

My once upon a time had ended with the recklessness of another bodyguard who’d believed a few minutes of time might actually matter. My last conscious act had been to position my car so my precious passenger would walk away from the accident. Even as I’d hit the brakes and turned the wheel, I’d been aware I would pay for his life with mine.

I’d done so with pride.

I couldn’t remember any fear, only pride.

I couldn’t remember any pain, either. Trauma could do that to a person, erasing critical moments.

Taking the brunt of the accident, created by another bodyguard’s foolish pride, had cost a principal his life in addition to dumping me into a coma so deep and long I’d been transferred across the country to a specialty hospital and left for dead.

I gave my ex-boss credit; he’d taken the ‘for life’ portion of my contract seriously, and he’d refused to have my plug yanked. Others of his ilk would have without hesitation. It didn’t change anything for me, though. His instructions, should I awaken, had been brutal and simple enough.

He didn’t want to hear a damned word about me until I could return to duty.

In typical Bradley Hampton fashion, he’d believed I’d be returning to duty. He likely still did, which would forever cause me problems. In good news for him, he wouldn’t learn the bitter truth. It’d taken the doctors a month following my return to coherency to acknowledge I wouldn’t be returning to duty.

Sometimes, I wondered if he would ever be bothered to ask what had happened to me. If he did, what would he do? Would he care? People like me often fell prey to the hope our principals might actually care about us. I’d heard the lecture when I’d been selected for my duty.

I lived to serve, and my life had no other purpose than that. Emotions only got in the way of the job.

Those same emotions had created my willingness to position my ex-boss’s Ferrari in the way I had, putting his life over mine. It hadn’t just been pride in my job. I’d cared for him. I’d cared for his haughty parents who thought the world of him but tried not to acknowledge my existence.

I’d cared.

Caring always found a way to cause me problems, and I couldn’t stop myself. I still cared.

I always would.

I scowled at the painful reminder I shouldn’t have left my cane at home. Without it, I’d put too much strain on my busted ankle even with the medical boot allowing me to walk at all. Forgetting the cane had been yet another dumb stunt induced by the pain-filled fog of a morning without medication.

Had I not been discarded, I might have gone without the incessant discomfort. Fool that I was, I’d screwed myself over with my cover story, which offered me the ability to avoid detection from the very man I’d once guarded. Along with a partial name change and a move back to my old haunts, I’d taken the hiding in plain sight thing a little too far. But what sank me was registering my magical aptitude rating at 17.2%, too high to count as a pure mundane but too low to use magic at all.

Had I gone for a saner 30.5%, I could have visited a doctor for a renewal of my prescription without having to tap out enough of my magic to maintain my ruse. To tap my magic, I needed to manipulate someone’s blood, circumventing their heart or adjusting their personal chemistry to suit my needs.

Opportunities to use my magic came few and far between, and I didn’t have access to cadavers to practice on, nor was I willing to inflict misery on some random stranger to drop my reserves to dangerously low levels.

There was only so much I could do with my own blood before I ran the risk of death.

I cursed the sports car and its idiot driver for making even more of a mess of my morning.

I didn’t need any more damned problems in my life. I needed my cane, but if I turned around and limped home, I’d be late for work. Being late for work couldn’t happen, not without a damned good reason, and forgetting my cane didn’t count. Once at the library, I could figure something out—or bribe one of my co-workers to run down the street to my apartment. If I had owned anything worth stealing, I might’ve been concerned, but my apartment did a good job of representing my bland life. With my salary, I skipped luxuries, and the little extra money I didn’t shove into a savings account went down the drain trying to rehab my foot.

Spiting the damned doctor who had sworn I’d be wheelchair bound for the rest of my life amused me. The last time I’d gone to his office, I’d done so without my cane, earning a scolding over it. I’d gotten him to finally admit I might one day walk without my boot.

My new doctor had faith in me and my mangled foot. Even on the days I faltered, she believed. With enough hard work and a few more surgeries, I might even manage without a limp.

I even understood that after successfully rehabbing my foot, I wouldn’t return to my once upon a time. Those days were gone, and for the most part, I didn’t miss them.

Okay, I missed them. I missed having a hotter than hell boss with a sense of humor, I missed driving luxury sports cars better than anyone else, and I longed to take the latest and greatest to the race track so I could play with them, as they were banned from the road for being too fast and glorious to be street legal.

Bradley Hampton liked rewarding his minions for good behavior, and he’d figured out how I’d ticked within months of hiring me to be his for life bodyguard.

I fucking loved cars.

Instead of stomping my foot at the unfairness of some incompetent driving a car I could handle better, I limped to the corner, pressed the button to cross the street, and muttered curses over my lot in life.

I loved working at the library and getting lost in a good book, but I remembered.

Nothing good came from old memories, lost dreams, and unobtainable ambitions. I’d earned a nice, quiet life, and I meant to enjoy it. Forgetting the past would just take a little more time.

A line of cop cars at the library gave me the only clue I needed to decide something had gone terribly wrong. It hadn’t been long enough for the Bugatti’s driver to have crashed and emergency responders to show up. Then, much to my disgust, I spotted the car, which had joined the lineup of rubberneckers trying to figure out what was going on.

The last thing I needed was the police giving my identification card more than a cursory glance. I’d gotten the license number legalized, which had involved sneaking around places I shouldn’t, accessing a computer I had no business touching, and putting some of my odder skills to work.

Then I had lied, lied, lied, claiming amnesia. Thanks to pure luck and evidence of head trauma in the form of somewhat recent scars, I’d gotten away with it.

If my ex-boss learned I could do more with a computer than check my email, he would kill me himself. I’d picked up my skills before he’d hired me, and I’d learned to help a childhood friend escape punishment for a crime he hadn’t committed. I’d witnessed the truth, and I’d learned that day the rich and powerful couldn’t be trusted.

I limped closer to the library, and the stench of blood and gore promised the worst sort of trouble had come to my work.

I remembered that smell well enough.

When I brought out my magic at its dangerous 97.6% potency, I could reduce my victim to a puddle on the sidewalk from instantaneous mass hemorrhaging. I could, if I had it out for my target, burst organs from shunting all of the body’s blood into them at one time. When in a mood, I could crystallize the blood within the body, transforming it to piercing blades capable of shredding most bones.

Only the skull vexed me.

The stench reminded me of why I hated my brand of magic, something most considered so abhorrent they refused to name it at all. Even necromancers had a better reputation, for all they did was manipulate corpses or read the truth on lifeless entrails.

The evidence of someone having used magic a lot like mine dripped from the library’s stone veneer a story and a half overhead. My brows shot up at the spatter distance, which implied whomever had killed the poor bastard had packed a lot of power behind the killing.

How wasteful.

I could’ve done a better, cleaner job without turning my victim’s blood into graffiti.

“Janette!”

I grimaced at my co-worker’s squealing call of my name. On a good day, Meridian could shatter glass. On a bad one, I worried she’d take out an entire skyscraper with her shrieking.

Today was not a good day.

Rather than snap at her for acting like I was three streets down rather than ten feet away, I limped over, pretending the library wasn’t covered in some poor bastard’s blood. “What’s going on?”

“Somebody exsanguinated Senator Godrin on the front steps.”

I lifted my hand, closed my eyes, and rubbed my temple, wishing I’d gone with the saner 30.5% magical aptitude rating, as I would’ve had access to sufficient painkillers to deal with my developing headache and the current situation, which would shoot me straight to the top of the suspect list should anyone realize my true identity.

Exsanguination, at least the kind capable of spattering blood two stories up, required a rare form of magic. Not only was it rare, only a handful of people around the world had it in the strength required to spray blood such a distance.

I was one of those people. I could spray blood up six stories if someone caught me flat-footed and I needed to eliminate a target. When I eliminated a target in the field when adrenaline flowed, I tended to shoot blood out from any available soft-tissue surface, favoring tear ducts, the ears, nose, and mouth. The smaller the opening, the stronger the spray, and when backed with sufficient magic, the faster it happened.

My poor co-workers would get a taste of what it meant to be among the magically inclined, and none of them would like it. I, in particular, would hate it, especially if someone did a proper evaluation of my aptitude rating. Assuming, of course, that I survived the evaluation and subsequent interrogation should my abilities be discovered by authorities.

Was masking my true rating under such scrutiny even possible?

I’d lied, lied, lied my way through the driver’s license evaluations. I loathed the damned bureaucrat who had come up with the idea to force everyone to register their magical talents if they wanted to drive a car. I’d worn one of the awful evaluation bracelets for over an hour, careful to hide my reactions to having my magic cut off. I’d dealt with the shortness of breath, pain, and other symptoms of having my magic snuffed out with a smile and false cheer, chatting with one of the evaluators about the upcoming car racing season, as he was almost as much of a fan as I was. I figured our talk had distracted him from any symptoms I hadn’t managed to hide. I’d doubled down painting my nails with one of the other testers, too, resulting in the testing session taking long enough they’d recorded the time.

Somehow, my proclaimed 17.2% aptitude rating had survived the licensing process.

I supposed I’d shown just the right symptoms to have some magic in my blood rather than no magic in my blood.

If they’d done a proper blood test and full evaluation, I would’ve been screwed.

It’d been one of the worst days of my life, but I’d gotten my stamp confirming my proposed percentage, a driver’s license that noted my disability but authorized me to drive anyway, a handicap tag should I ever purchase a car, and a warning to keep away from the pure adepts and mundanes, as it wouldn’t do to have my mixed heritage damage future generations.

I stared up at the senator’s blood, observing it trail down the pale stone drop by drop. While we worked at one of the smaller branches of the New York Public Library, we’d gotten one of the city’s heritage sites, which had been lovingly converted into a work of art. While most went to the Midtown West building, which took the top prize for beauty, age, and elegance, we tended to attract the politicians, as we had an excellent reference floor, a quiet place for conferences, and a good location for their wining and dining needs.

We had a prized spot on Fifth Avenue, and patrons could make the hike to the Met without breaking a sweat.

The last thing I needed in my life was a bunch of snooty pure adepts investigating the library over the death of a politician known for his unethical practices, ruthless business dealings, and utter hatred of mundanes. According to my less-than-legal license, I counted as a mundane, as my cover story put me just below the threshold for being able to use any form of magic. If I had put myself at below 15% genetic purity, I would’ve been a prized specimen for those wishing to maintain humanity’s non-magical lineage.

What had I done to deserve such shitty luck in life? Blowing air and restraining my urge to spew curses, I pointed at the crimson stains marring the second story of our library. “That’s quite the spray distance, Meridian.”

She stared up at the blood dripping down the stone to streak over the windows and pool on the building’s antique balconies. While the balconies had long since been blocked off to patrons, many favored sitting by the tall windows to read on the faux antique sedans strategically placed between the stacks. “Oh. He got up there, too? Nice.”

Right. Meridian found even the grisliest use of magic to be intriguing. “Dare I ask where else he splattered?”

If one of the cops heard me, they’d make assumptions; law enforcement types favored spattered while civilians used splattered thanks to a mix of slang and television.

My fellow librarian pointed towards the main entrance of the building. “Mickey got hosed, and he was at the desk.”

If my brows rose any higher, they’d end up in my hair, which I’d decided to wear in a bun to keep it out of the way while hobbling between the stacks. For the blood to have reached the reception desk of our library, the culprit must have ruptured every blood vessel in the victim’s body and expelled it through every available orifice. Alternatively, the culprit could have made a few extra holes to streamline the job. “Is he all right?”

“You know Mickey.”

Yes, I did. Nobody could send him into the mystery, medical, or horror sections, as the sight of blood on a book’s cover might result in him dropping into a faint. “Please tell me he didn’t crack his head open on the desk.”

“No, but I’m not sure if he’s a suspect or evidence. They woke him up, asked him about the incident, and he fainted again. We have a betting pool going over how many times he faints before they’re done asking him questions. Honestly, I can’t imagine them actually thinking he’s a suspect. He can’t even hear the word blood without freaking out. He’s so lucky he’s not a woman.”

Despite the severity of the situation, I snickered at the thought of Mickey trying to deal with the perils of being a woman. I didn’t miss popping more painkillers than my kidneys appreciated to function through a shift guarding Bradley Hampton while my uterus and ovaries attempted to put me in the grave. As I didn’t want to write off having children one day, I’d dealt with it, although things had gotten better for me after the accident that’d almost claimed my life.

Thanks to my falsified magic rating, I’d found a doctor willing to use me as a guinea pig for a treatment meant for pure adepts or mundanes, one that resolved the crippling pain and would allow me to have children later. It’d involved using a mix of medicine and magic to mimic a pregnancy, and after nine months, imitating the so-called joys of childbirth to trick my body into believing I’d had a child. To my relief and the doctor’s delight, I’d suffer through only minimal discomfort before menopause naturally solved the problem for me.

Unfortunately for me, according to my test results and my doctor’s magic, she believed I wouldn’t start menopause until my sixties at the earliest. I blamed my magic for that.

It did a good job of keeping me healthy.

I sighed and shook my head, once again staring at the bloodstained building. “Are you being questioned?”

“I was out having a smoke, so I saw the whole damned thing. They questioned me, but beyond repeating what I’d seen, they had no use for me.”

How sloppy. “What happened?”

“Some asshole in a black car with tinted windows drove by, Senator Godrin lost his head, and they drove off before waiting for the body to hit the ground.”

“Did you say Senator Godrin lost his head?”

“Yeah. The exsanguinator burst the poor man’s head. Popped it like a grape.”

Ugh. I hated when high-powered amateurs made more of a mess of a job than necessary. When I decided to end someone’s life, I did so with some finesse, leaving the body intact enough for a viewing. “Please tell me you’re exaggerating.”

“Part of his skull landed across the street.”

I frowned. “And it’s being called an exsanguination? I thought exsanguinators just drained blood.” Well, I could do a hell of a lot more than drain blood from a body, although that ability gave people good reason to fear us. “The skull’s tough. An exsanguinator wouldn’t be able to burst a skull like that.”

I’d tried, although I’d limited my experimentations to animals rather than people. The way I figured, if I couldn’t burst the skull of livestock on route for the dinner table—or even come close—I couldn’t crack open a human’s skull, either.

“The killer was probably working with a telekinetic,” Meridian admitted. “But you’re right. Exsanguinators don’t usually manifest like that. I heard the cops and the adepts they brought in. They know of a few, but they don’t work like that. They have a different style. Now that was an interesting conversation.”

Yeah, I didn’t work like that and had no intention of starting. Even if I stretched my legs and worked some magic, my focus on keeping my magic controlled would hamper me in more ways than one. Habit ruled magic almost as much as natural ability.

I lacked habit, and I’d done my best to leash my natural abilities.

One day, I might even lose my magic altogether from disuse, although it’d still be in my blood, something I could pass down to my children, if I ever had any.

In good news for me, I still had more time than I cared to think about before I hit the end of the road on that.

I considered Meridian’s words, and I recognized she wanted me to bite on the little tidbit of information she dangled in front of me. Before the accident, I’d been curious and inquisitive.

Nothing had changed.

Heaving a sigh for her benefit, I asked, “What was so interesting about that conversation?”

“Did you know there’s a woman who can shoot someone’s blood all the way up to there?” Meridian asked, pointing up to the sixth floor of our library. “All the way to there! And some think she could clear the roof if in a mood. Apparently, her control is so refined she can build pressure in the veins, use her magic to contain it so the vessels don’t rupture, and control the spray. It gets better, though.”

My life sucked, and I’d have to put some serious thought into moving. “How does it get better?”

“She’s a mouse.”

I was a what? “A mouse?” I held my hands apart several inches to indicate the size of a mouse. “Like a rodent? About this big?”

“Personality wise. She’s meek as a mouse, prim and proper, and the prime example of an adept lady. They agreed she could if she wanted, but that it went against all of her training and behavior. And you know how adepts get. They pride themselves in their style, and she’s a mouse.”

The rumor mill had gotten bored, drunk, and possibly high before attacking my reputation, which likely hadn’t survived the onslaught. I could act like a lady, I’d even owned a few gowns, but I’d never gotten to wear them because a bodyguard didn’t wear pretty dresses to social events.

A bodyguard wore a suit.

Sometimes, I’d worn a skirt with my suit, but they’d always allowed for a full range of motion and I’d worn some form of spandex shorts beneath the skirt in case of emergency.

The last time I’d acted like a lady, I’d been at some gala the night before I’d been sold off to Bradley Hampton. Then, I’d found the arrangement pleasant; my parents had gotten lucky with me, with my percentage jumping two complete brackets thanks to a lucky roll of the genetic dice. It happened sometimes.

Once, a pair of mundanes had produced an adept child with a staggering 98.5% rating, with every recessed adept gene becoming dominant in an evolutionary triumph. It happened with adept pairings, too, resulting in a prized pure mundane packed with adept potential.

Those stuck in the middle rarely did anything interesting, although my parents, on the higher end of the spectrum, had bucked the trend with me and my 97.6% rating.

But to be slated as a mouse?

My pride wanted to go into a corner and weep over how far I’d fallen. “I can’t tell if that’s a good or a bad thing,” I admitted.

“Good. She’s the kind of mouse who can turn into a dragon.”

I stared at Meridian. “Did you have a few drinks on the way to work this morning?”

“No, but I wish I had.”

Me, too. “I’m officially late for work.”

“I don’t think we’re working today, but I’ll go tell the boss you did show up and ask what he wants you to do. I think we’ll either be sent home or asked to clean up if the cops ever finish with the place. Wait here. I’ll come back and report. Just don’t go near the cordon. That’s how you get sucked into being questioned, too.”

I owed Meridian for that gem, and I waited at the corner, examining the blood on the library walls while wondering how much of a mess the murder would make of my life.

About the Author

RJ Blain suffers from a Moleskine journal obsession, a pen fixation, and a terrible tendency to pun without warning.

In her spare time, she daydreams about being a spy. Her contingency plan involves tying her best of enemies to spinning wheels and quoting James Bond villains until satisfied.

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Blog Tour | The Haunting on Palm Court by Stephanie Edwards | Spotlight + Giveaway

2020-08-04T06:28:00.000+08:00

He refused to leave her alone, even after his death.

Welcome to the Haunting on Palm Court Blog Tour!

The Haunting on Palm Court

Isle of Palms Suspense #1

Stephanie Edwards

Publication Date: Septermber 1, 2020

Genres: Romantic, Suspense, Paranormal

After Blake Nelson catches her abusive fiancé, Parker, with another woman, she seeks serenity at her late grandmother’s beach cottage. He follows Blake to the island and attempts to kill her, but instead, he dies in an accident while fleeing the police.

His malevolent spirit returns to the cottage to finish what he started. The haunting intensifies when Blake reconnects with her first love, Clint. Will Blake discover how to banish Parker before it’s too late?

The last bit of winter wind pierced her flesh as she put on the cardigan. She sat down on the worn decking boards on the widow’s walk. Pulling the sweater down over her knees, she allowed the waves to impart their healing magic, calming her as much as possible.

Once she had experienced all the bitter wind she could handle, Blake went back downstairs. She caught her reflection in the foyer mirror. Her eyes swollen and red, and her skin chapped from the wind. Nancy reached out to comfort Blake.

“I’m staying with you tonight. You shouldn’t be alone. By the way, Clint is sleeping in his patrol car in the driveway.”

“Please tell him to go home,” Blake said.

Nancy walked outside for a moment. When she returned, she put her hands on her hips. “He refuses to leave you.” She gave Blake a meaningful wink, but Blake was in no place to pick up on hints, regardless of their level of subtlety.

“Goodnight, Nancy. Thanks for staying with me.” Blake walked upstairs to her room.

She squirmed in bed for hours. Parker had hurt her; still, his death saddened her.

After falling into a fitful sleep, her unrest turned into a series of disturbing dreams and frightening images. In a state between nightmare and wakefulness, she woke in a cold sweat, with a pounding headache. A prickly sensation tingled across her body. She turned. Parker lay behind her, smirking. Paralyzed with fear, Blake sat frozen in her bed, staring at him. His wasn’t the first spirit she’d seen, not by a long shot. But seeing him, her heart rate sped up, and her breathing turned shallow.

His face illuminated by the light of the full moon, Parker smiled and traced the outline of her face with his index finger. He leaned in to kiss her, but she jumped out of bed. He began inching toward her, but Blake flipped the mattress onto the floor.

Blake turned on the lamp on her bedside table. When her eyes adjusted, Parker had disappeared. She bent over to check under her bed, jumping when she accidentally stepped on one of Willow’s squeaky toys. She breathed a sigh of relief when she kicked aside the plush stuffed animal.

Someone knocked on her bedroom door. She called out, “Yes?”

“What’s the matter?” Nancy asked.

Blake opened the door. Nancy rubbed her eyes. “I had a nightmare that Parker was in bed with me,” Blake said. “When I woke up, he was there. It’s the creepiest feeling I’ve ever experienced.” She shivered.

Nancy gasped and placed her hands on her cheeks. “Oh, my word! Are you all right?”

“I’m frightened, but I’m okay.”

Blake’s chest caved inward. Over the past year, she had faced some traumatic, life-altering events. As an empath, Blake was no stranger to interacting with spirits, but Parker’s was the first who had frightened her.

“Will he come back? If he does, how will we get rid of him?”

Nancy hugged her but didn’t say a word, unusual for her. She had to be hiding something.

“What aren’t you telling me?” Blake demanded.

Nancy put her finger to her lips. “It’s a long story for another day, but you’re not alone in seeing spirits. It’s part of your family’s past, and mine for that matter. Just trust me, it’ll be okay.”

Blake threw her hands into the air. “But…”

Nancy shook her head. “Shh, honey. Not right now. Please calm down. It’s late. Get some rest. We’ll take care of Parker all in good time.”

Emotional and physical exhaustion had taken its toll on Blake. She returned to her bed but did not sleep for the rest of the night. Every time she drifted off, Parker’s dead eyes stared at her, boring a hole into her soul.

About the Author

Stephanie Edwards has been writing professionally since she landed her first newspaper column at the age of 13. Her love for the Lowcountry, the Atlantic Ocean and a good ghost story inspired her to write her first book. She lives in Tennessee with her husband, Ron, and their adorable dog, Shadow.

Website | Facebook | Instragram | Twitter |Goodreads 5 eBOOK copies of THE HAUNTING ON PALM COURT Ends September 3, 2020
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Tour Schedule

August 3 Whatever You Can Still Betray

https://whateveryoucanstillbetray.blogspot.com/

August 4 Midnight Musings with Bertena on Vocal

https://vocal.media/authors/midnight-musings-with-bertena

August 5 Fang-tastic Books

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August 6 Paranormalists

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August 7 Roxanne’s Realm

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August 10 The Creatively Green Write at Home Mom

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August 11 Momma Says: To Read or Not to Read

http://mommasaystoreadornottoread.blogspot.com/

August 12 The Book Junkie Reads

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August 13 T's Stuff

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August 14 Ogitchida Kwe's Book Blog

http://ogitchidabookblog.blogspot.com

August 17 Rajiv’s Reviews (Review)

https://www.rajivsreviews.com/

August 18 Supernatural Central

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August 19 Lisa’s World of Books

http://www.lisasworldofbooks.net/

August 20Booklikes

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August 21 Jazzy Book Reviews

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August 24 Sapphyria's Books

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August 25 JB's Bookworms with Brandy Mulder

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August 26 SImply Kelina

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August 27 Bewitching Book Tours

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August 28 Serena Synn

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August 31 Kay Phoenix

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September 1 Other Worlds of Romance (Guest Blog)

Sci-Fi, Fantasy, and Paranormal Romances

http://lindamooney.blogspot.com/

Cover Reveal | Stealing Embers by Julie Hall | Giveaway

2020-07-28T12:30:00.000+08:00

Today Julie Hall and Rockstar Book Tours are revealing the cover and an exclusive excerpt for STEALING EMBERS, book 1 in her brand-new YA Urban Fantasy, Fallen legacies series, which releases September 22, 2020! Check out the gorgeous cover and enter to win a $10 Amazon Gift card!

Want to see it?
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...

A realm of monsters. A world of lies. She belongs to both.

My name is Emberly, and everything I’ve ever been told is a lie.

Monsters don’t exist. Wrong.
The nightmarish spectrum world is just my imagination. Wrong.
In a few months, I’ll finally be free. Wrong.

It takes being dragged to a secret training academy in the mountains to unravel the truth. My captors--an elite race of angel-born warriors called Nephilim.

The deadliest of them all is an arrogant shape shifter, Steel. He’s gorgeous, lethal, hot-headed . . . and convinced I’ll be the death of them all.

Maybe he’s right. As soon as I show up, the monsters that have haunted me my entire life breach the academy walls. My only hope of saving my new friends is learning how to control my powers, but when a stunning betrayal hurts someone I care about, I have an impossible choice.

Stay and fight for a place to belong . . . or decide once and for all that I’m better off alone.

Enter the spectrum world, a realm in-between worlds where shadow beasts draw blood, reality is a maze of twisted lights and sounds, and life goals are whittled down to just one: survive.

Fans of Jennifer L. Armentrout and Cassandra Clare will love this Crescent City meets Crave mash up!

Stealing Embers

Fallen Legacies #1
Julie Hall

Genre: Young Adult, Paranormal, Fantasy

Publication Date: September 22, 2020

Steel takes a determined step toward me. His hair is ruffled, his clothes covered in dirt and wet from the ice and snow, his hands balled into fists. Even without a weapon, he’s a fierce sight to behold. With golden light kissing his features, he reminds me of a modern-day Apollo, dressed in a Henley and dark washed jeans.

“It’s you.” His whispered words full of awe and float to me on a rippling band of light.

I begin to ask what he means, but I catch a sliver of movement to my left and turn my head in time to see both Forsaken disappear around the bend of the building.

Instinct says to follow them, but when I take a step in their direction I’m thwarted by a six-foot-five, raven-haired angel-born.

“They’re going to—” My words die a quick death on my tongue when Steel’s hand brushes a tangle of hair away from my cheek. The small contact causes a tremor to work its way through his body.

He closes his eyes and steps into me.

I retreat a step.

“Finally,” he breathes, dipping his head to gently rub the tip of his nose up the column of my neck before his lips just barely brush my earlobe.

It’s my turn to shiver.

What is he doing? my mind screams. And do I care? it whispers as an afterthought.

Shaking my head out of a confused fog, I take another shaky step back.

Yes, I do care. The boy must have hit his head harder than I thought.

“Listen, Steel, we don’t have time for this. You’re not yourself right now.”

I bring my hands up to push him back. He’s invading my space—big time.

When I reach forward to give him a shove, he grabs hold of my wrists and uses my momentum to bring me closer.

The guy has moves, that’s for sure.

One look in his eyes and I can tell he’s not all there. His lids are lowered to half-mast and his gaze sweeps lazily over my features.

Steel takes a step forward, forcing my capitulation until he’s maneuvered me against the rough bricks. A foreign sensation zips along my spine, as if something heavy is fused to each vertebrae, weighing me down. I don’t have a chance to investigate because Steel’s head is dipping again and I have nowhere to move within the cage of his body.

I freeze, wholly unprepared for the situation. That gives Steel the perfect opportunity to dive in and take what he wants.

About the Author

Julie Hall is an award-winning, USA Today bestselling author of young adult fantasy fiction.

Before writing her first novel Julie worked as a film publicist and rubbed elbows with the rich and famous . . . as in she would gently nudge them to let them know their meal had arrived during press interviews.

She now spends most of her "office hours" with her two furry writing buddies, Bear and Coco. Her daughter thinks that mommy's superpower is “sleeping all day,” but that’s because she’s often awake until the wee hours of the morning weaving tales of adventure in worlds of her own creation. When asked in an interview what she wanted to be when she grew up, she’s quoted to have answered, “to never have to grow up.”

She currently lives in Portland, Oregon with her four favorite people--her husband, daughter, and two fur babies (because dogs are people too).

Connect with Julie here, or on social media.

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Enemies, lovers, and everything in between | I Kissed Alice by Anna Birch

2020-07-27T12:00:00.000+08:00

For fans of Leah on the Offbeat and Laura Dean Keeps Breaking Up with Me, Anna Birch’s I Kissed Alice is a romantic comedy about enemies, lovers, and everything in between.

I Kissed Alice Anna Birch
Publication Date: July 28, 2020
Genre: Young Adult, LGBTQ+, Romance

Rhodes and Iliana couldn’t be more different, but that’s not why they hate each other.

Rhodes, a gifted artist, has always excelled at Alabama’s Conservatory of the Arts (until she’s hit with a secret bout of creator’s block), while Iliana, a transfer student, tries to outshine everyone with her intense, competitive work ethic. Since only one of them can get the coveted Capstone scholarship, the competition between them is fierce.

They both escape the pressure on a fanfic site where they are unknowingly collaborating on a webcomic. And despite being worst enemies in real life, their anonymous online identities I-Kissed-Alice and Curious-in-Cheshire are starting to like each other… a lot. When the truth comes out, will they destroy each other’s future?

Iliana

It was the end of our junior year when everything between Rhodes and me came to be as it is now.

It was May, and we were at a pop-up installation on the edge of campus. Clouds of heavy, weed-scented smoke hung up around the light fixtures of an old gas station with bars on the windows, and rain was falling in through a spot where the roof had caved, leaving puddles on the dirty tiled floor.

Behind each ancient cooler door was an installation: women with tape over their mouths. Women with their hands bound. Women dressed like schoolgirls, and dressed like moms, and dressed like frumpy old ladies with curlers in their hair. There was a gas station attendant behind the dilapidated old counter, a girl barely older than us with shiny red lip gloss and breasts begging to escape from a Play- boy Bunny costume. Word around campus was that participants had to be eighteen so they could sign the liability waiver provided by the lead artist.

Men wandered from one cooler to the next, shopping quietly, selecting someone to take with them along with six-packs of beer and packs of beef jerky.

Rhodes and I had become friends, sort of.

We weren’t talk-on-the-phone friends, or even text-on-occasion friends.

But Sarah had been my best friend since the third grade, and Sar- ah and Rhodes had become completely symbiotic during their first and second years as roommates at the Conservatory. It had taken weeks of begging for Sarah to even suggest to Rhodes that I come along—no matter what I did, Rhodes thought my work was “pedestrian.”

She didn’t think I’d understand the show—called Quickies at the Kwickee Mart, clever them—or that the art installation would speak to me the way it spoke to her and Sarah.

But by some force of nature, I had been the one to win a scholar- ship at the Savannah College of Art and Design only a week before. My art wasn’t an existential crisis played out with paint and canvas, and it didn’t make any grand political statements, but it was going to pay for my college—and apparently it meant I was allowed to play with the big girls now. Only two days later, Rhodes invited me along herself.

A week after that, we stood side by side, stoned out of our minds and attempting to make sense of the little theater that played out in front of us. Some of the girls in the cases were seniors at the Conservatory, and I knew about half of the people standing around us from campus as well. The rest were unimaginably sophisticated, worldly looking artist types—people with ink-stained hands and tattoos that crept up from under the collars of their shirts and onto their necks.

If my perception hadn’t been completely altered, I would have thought to be a little embarrassed by my own clothing choices. I felt so metal sneaking out in my tattered-on-purpose Slipknot T-shirt and my tattered-on-purpose acid-washed shorts and my tattered-on-pur- pose pink-and-white-striped tights.

“It’s, like, feminism—” Rhodes said.

Her brows were knit together; her cogs were turning.

She didn’t understand. I didn’t want to tell her otherwise, to ruin the night like I always do. It wasn’t enough to say it was about “like, feminism.” Anything can be about feminism, because in everything there’s an imbalance of power. There will always be one person in the room that has more privilege than the rest, and that person is almost always an Ingram.

It didn’t surprise me that Rhodes didn’t understand then, and it doesn’t now—she doesn’t really know what it means to be a little further down the food chain than everyone else. I’m not much further down than she is—I’m just as white, Christian-adjacent, abled, and straight-passing as she is—but I’m aware of it.

“Yeah, just, you know—” Sarah’s pupils were blown out. She held on to me for dear life, the way Rhodes’s barely-younger brother and then-dance-track student, Griffin, clung to Rhodes’s arm. Sarah liked Griffin then—she was infatuated, really. I think she thought he’d be an easy segue into being a fixture in Rhodes’s life forever.

She thought wrong.

“The motherfucking patriarchy,” said Griffin.

The motherfucking patriarchy. As if that phrase in and of itself wasn’t the purpose of the installation, the fact that women are continuously victims of sexual violence in Western culture, so much so that it has permeated our patterns of speaking and even the way we curse.

Rhodes sighed, and nodded appreciatively. Sarah sighed, and nodded appreciatively. Griffin sighed, and nodded appreciatively.

This is art, they communicated, with stoops in their shoulders and ennui-burdened frowns. This is life.

This is suffering.

Pot only ever makes me more philosophical. Everyone around me was melting into puddles, and I was practically writing ninety-nine theses on third-wave feminism on the back of a fifteen-year-old Kwickee Mart napkin that had been stuck to the bottom of my boot.

About the Author

Anna Birch is the author of I Kissed Alice. She was born 'n' raised in a rural area on the outskirts of Birmingham, Alabama. She traded thick forests and dirt roads for the heart of the city, where she lives now with her husband, three children, and dog. She loves knitting, brie, and hanging out with her family.

Website | Twitter | Instagram | Goodreads

Print copy of I Kissed Alice US only Ends August 6, 2020
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Cover Reveal | Into the Blue by Robin Huber | Even in paradise, danger lurks...

2020-07-15T21:00:00.001+08:00

Today we are sharing an exciting cover reveal for INTO THE BLUE by Robin Huber! This is a romantic suspense title will be releasing August 18, 2020.

Check out Robin's facebook page for a chance to win an ARC and gift card!

Want to see it?
Scroll down.

...

When Makayla Evans discovers that her employer — a pharmaceutical trailblazer — is dabbling in Dark Pharma, she barely has time to process the information before her conventional life is ripped away. In one breath she’s standing in her New York office; in the next, she’s waking up in the middle of a Central American desert. With no way to escape or call for help, she realizes a terrifying truth. She has vanished… without a trace.

For former Marine Kellan James, working private security on Costa Rica’s La Isla Azul — The Blue Island — is a dream job. But his peace is disrupted when an old friend calls with a nearly impossible task: track down a woman kidnapped by a dangerous drug cartel. When Kellan finally finds Makayla, she’s in bad shape, but she’s alive. Now he just has to keep her that way…

Finding refuge on a remote island with a kind, handsome Marine is not how Makayla expected her nightmare to end. As the days turn to months, Makayla and Kellan develop an unbreakable bond, falling in love with the island, and with each other. But they can’t hide forever.

Because even in paradise, danger lurks…

Into the Blue

Robin Huber

Genres: Romance, Suspense

Publication Date: August 18, 2020

About the Author

Robin has been dreaming up book boyfriends since before she ever had one. A career, a husband and three kids later, she’s still hopelessly addicted to love stories that make her swoon. Robin is an extroverted introvert with an unhealthy dependency on her horoscope and a knack for plotting emotionally charged romance novels on her way to work, where she spends her days as a hospital director. She loves the ocean, thunderstorms, coffee, wine and Tim Riggins. She hates turtlenecks, chunky jewelry, kitchen gadgets and high heels, though she begrudgingly wears them often. She also has an aversion to extreme cold, which is why after a four year stint in the Northeast, she returned home to Florida where she’s living happily ever after.

Go to Robin's Facebook page to enter to win the cover reveal giveaway for an ARC of INTO THE BLUE and a $10 Gift Card!

Some secrets are better left buried | Deadly Curious by Cindy Anstey | Review + Giveaway

2020-06-23T19:00:00.000+08:00

A twisty tale reminiscent of Jane Austen—with a dash of murder—Cindy Anstey’s Deadly Curious is perfect for fans of Kerri Maniscalco and Agatha Christie.

Deadly Curious Cindy Anstey Publication Date: June 23, 2020 Genre: YA Historical Romance, Mystery

Some secrets are better left buried…

1834. Sophia Thompson wants nothing more than to be one of the famed Bow Street Runners, London’s most elite corps of detectives. Never mind that a woman has never before joined their ranks—and certainly never mind that her reclusive family has forbidden her from pursuing such an unladylike goal.

She gets the chance to prove her capabilities when an urgent letter arrives from her frantic cousin Daphne, begging Sophia to come look into the suspicious death of Daphne’s brother.

As Sophia begins to unravel the tangled threads of the case—with the help of a charming young policeman—she soon realizes that the murderer may be even closer to her family than she ever suspected.

Review Review copy provided by the tour organizer thru NetGalley

What reason would a young lady with a genteel upbringing have in pursuing a career with the elite corps of detectives?

Zero marriage prospects.

When her uncle was sentenced to the colonies, Sophia Thompson’s Season was cancelled and the family’s reputation took a downturn that her future was compromised. Or as compromised as it could be when, in those times, a young woman’s future was either have a proper husband and run the household and have a family or spend the rest of her life attending to their mother or living off a small stipend from an inheritance or their brother’s generosity.

But Sophia Thompson was obstinate that she if she won’t get her Season, then she might as well have a career. With her heart set on joining the ranks of the Bow Street Runners (inconceivable!), she was looking for a chance to prove her capabilities.

And an alarming letter from her cousin asking Sophia for help in looking into her brother’s murder would just be the right point in jumping her career off.

One running theme in this series is that the heroines are intelligent and headstrong, wanting to explore more of their worth than what their current circumstances are giving them. They want to use their talents and skills for more than house management and raising family. Not that there’s something wrong with domesticity, but I feel like the books are trying to convey that the young women could be strong and soft at the same time. A career and a family - a girl could be one of the boys.

This is common/popular trope in most historical romance fiction, but academic research and history established that women have been awesome and bad-ass since the ancient times but we all know that popular history tends to be written leaning more into the masculine side.

But what I also liked in Cindy Anstey’s books is that the love interest, while noticing the fair countenance of the main character first, is more attracted to their drive, mind, and personality.

I deemed Sophia and Jeremy’s romance to be more adorable and cute that I would sooner coo and pat their heads than swoon.

I figured out the one behind the murder about halfway through. And I would advise the two to consider another career choice. But what was interesting is to find out what the motive was, what the culprit’s history as to have a reason to murder that particular person.

I still love the setting and a peak at the local history from the perspective of landed gentry. I loved finding new terms I haven’t encountered before, i.e. haberdashery, oriel windows, Vandyke beard, poaching and the laws pertaining to it, that I was deep into a chain-google-search. Which landed me in reading a lot about something other than the drama of the royal family during the Georgian period.

P.S.

Let's talk about Sophia's dad who, while not as awesome as Dad Andrew, Uncle Leonard, and Uncle James of Love, Lies and Spies (see review), was still a father who supported his daughter in her chosen path.

About the Author

Whenever she is not sitting at the computer, throwing a ball in the backyard, gardening or reading, Cindy can be found–actually, not found–adventuring around the world with her hubby.

She has lived on three continents, had a monkey in her yard and a scorpion under her sink, dwelt among castles and canals, enjoyed the jazz of Beale St and attempted to speak French.

Cindy loves history, mystery and… a chocolate Labrador called Chester.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads

Print copy of Deadly Curious Ends July 2, 2020
a Rafflecopter giveaway Tour Schedule

June 22nd

–Gizmos Reviews >> Review

–Bookcheshirecat >> Review

–Jackie’s Book World >> Excerpt

–Emelie’s Books >> Excerpt

–Books Over Everything >> Review

June 23rd

–diary of a wannabe writer >> Review

–Kait Plus Books >> Interview

–Buried Under Books >> Review

–Njkinny’s Blog >> Review

–Whatever You Can Still Betray >> Review

June 24th

–Bellerose Reads >> Excerpt

–Jazzy Book Reviews >> Review

–Wishful Endings >> Interview

–Hurn Publications >> Review

–Books Less Travelled >> Review

June 25th

–aisyahreadly >> Review

–Sophril Reads >> Review

–A Book Addict’s Bookshelves >> Guest post

–Confessions of a YA Reader >> Excerpt

–Tien’s Blurb >> Review

June 26th

–The Avid Reader >> Review

–Sweaters and Raindrops >> Review

–Bookish Jottings >> Review

–Moonlight Rendezvous >> Review

–Valerie Ullmer | Romance Author >> Excerpt

A high stakes wager in The Marriage Game by Sara Desai | Blog Tour + Excerpt

2020-06-14T19:00:00.001+08:00

Tour Schedule

Today I am excited to celebrate the release of THE MARRIAGE GAME by Sara Desai by participating in the blog tour! This is a sexy, romantic comedy that you won't want to miss.

Check out the purchase links for the book below.

Go to Sara's FB page for a release day giveaway!

The Marriage Game Sara Desai Publication Date: June 9, 2020 Genre: Romance, Contemporary

One of Oprah Magazine's Most Anticipated Romances of 2020

A high stakes wager pits an aspiring entrepreneur against a ruthless CEO in this sexy romantic comedy.

After her life falls apart, recruitment consultant Layla Patel returns home to her family in San Francisco. But in the eyes of her father, who runs a Michelin starred restaurant, she can do no wrong. He would do anything to see her smile again. With the best intentions in mind, he offers her the office upstairs to start her new business and creates a profile on an online dating site to find her a man. She doesn’t know he’s arranged a series of blind dates until the first one comes knocking on her door…

As CEO of a corporate downsizing company Sam Mehta is more used to conflict than calm. In search of a quiet new office, he finds the perfect space above a cozy Indian restaurant that smells like home. But when communication goes awry, he's forced to share his space with the owner's beautiful yet infuriating daughter Layla, her crazy family, and a parade of hopeful suitors, all of whom threaten to disrupt his carefully ordered life.

As they face off in close quarters, the sarcasm and sparks fly. But when the battle for the office becomes a battle of the heart, Sam and Layla have to decide if this is love or just a game.

“You’re sitting at my desk.” She put the pot on the reception desk and folded her arms.

Sam shuffled his papers, spreading them across the polished wood surface for no reason other than to keep his gaze off her distractingly perfect breasts. “I didn’t see your name on it.”

“Just look at your lease. You’ll see it written across the top, or can’t you read big words like Patel?”

“I don’t recall seeing any identification,” he countered. “For all I know, you could have just walked in off the street. You’re certainly not dressed like you’re running a business.”

Eyes blazing, she glared. “What’s wrong with how I’m dressed?”

“An apron and a pink tracksuit with Juicy written across the ass are hardly serious business attire and they certainly don’t scream swipe right on desi Tinder.”

Sam didn’t know if there was such a thing as Tinder for people of South Asian descent living abroad, but if it did exist, he and Layla would definitely not have been a match.

Layla gave a growl of frustration. “You may be surprised to hear that I don’t live my life seeking male approval. I’m just getting over a breakup so I’m a little bit fragile. Last night, I went out with Daisy and drank too much, smoked something I thought was a cigarette, danced on a speaker, and fell onto some loser named Jimbo, whose girlfriend just happened to be an MMA fighter and didn’t like to see me sprawled on top of her man. We had a minor physical altercation and I was kicked out of the bar. Then I got dumped on the street by my Uber driver because I threw up in his cab. So today, I just couldn’t manage office wear. It’s called self-care, and we all need it sometimes. Danny certainly didn’t mind.” Danny certainly didn't mind."

"Who's Danny?" The question came out before he could stop it.

"Someone who appreciates all I've got going here…" She ran a hand in and out of her generous curves. "… and isn't hung up on trivial things like clothes." She tugged off the apron and folded it on the crock-pot.

"I'm not hung up on clothes either," Sam teased. "When I'm with a woman I prefer her to have no clothes at all."

"You're disgusting." Layla grabbed her crock-pot and donuts and marched into the small kitchen at the back of the office.

Sam heard cupboards bang. Cutlery clatter. Angry mutters and a huff. A few minutes later Layla marched back out with a bowl of dal in one hand and two donuts circling her finger like rings.

Only when she sat down and proceeded to eat one of the donuts off her finger did he realize he hadn't done any work since she walked in.

"Donuts and dal are not two foods that naturally go together," he pointed out.

Layla took a giant bite and licked her lips. "Do you not have work to do? Or are you just going to sit there and look pretty?"

About the Author

Sara Desai has been a lawyer, radio DJ, marathon runner, historian, bouncer and librarian. She lives on Vancouver Island with her husband, kids and an assortment of forest creatures who think they are pets. Sara writes sexy romantic comedy and contemporary romance with a multicultural twist. When not laughing at her own jokes, Sara can be found eating nachos. Visit Sara at www.saradesai.com.

Blog Tour: Grave Humor by R.J. Blain | A Magical Romantic Comedy | Playlist + Giveaway

2020-05-11T12:00:00.000+08:00

Welcome to the Grave Humor Blog Tour!
Listen to the book playlist and enter the giveaway!

‘Eternally yours’ is the most potent of threats

Grave Humor Playlist

curated by R.J. Blain

Thanks for hosting me today! The song list for Grave Humor is a bit strange… and rather short.

I put these songs on repeat so they wouldn’t bother me while I write. (The songs changing completely derails my train of thought if it isn’t the same song over and over, and it can take me twenty to thirty minutes to get back into a groove once I’m knocked out of my work flow.)

All songs are by Bon Jovi, as I fondly think of this as the Bon Jovi Book.

Superman Tonight

Work for the Working Man

When We Were Beautiful

Runaway

It’s my Life

And last but not least… Living on a Prayer!

Of these, I think When We Were Beautiful got the most playtime. Honestly, I think of this as the “Sha-la-la song.” Yeah. I’m weird.

Superman Tonight, Work from the Working Man, and When We Were Beautiful are all from the Circle Album, and I can’t recommend it enough.

What I liked most about the music for this book is that all of them just really fit the book at some stage or another.

Grave Humor

A Magical Romantic Comedy

R.J. Blain

Publication Date: May 12, 2020

Genres: Adult, Comedy, Paranormal, Romance

Most days, Anwen regrets working at a funeral home despite the good pay. With the residents no longer inclined to stay in their coffins where they belong, she’s got her hands full making sure everyone follows the rules:

In the funeral home, there is no screaming, no murdering, no mutilation, no possessions, no kidnappings, no resurrections, and no cursing of any type. Be quiet and stay polite.

The day Old Man McGregor decides to take a walk and disturbs her peace, Anwen learns there’s a lot more to the basement in the funeral home than a vampire and a handsome gentleman on ice.

If she’s not careful, she’ll learn first-hand why ‘eternally yours’ is the most potent of threats.

Warning: this novel contains romance, humor, bodies, shenanigans, and mythological puppies. Proceed with caution.

About the Author

RJ Blain suffers from a Moleskine journal obsession, a pen fixation, and a terrible tendency to pun without warning.

In her spare time, she daydreams about being a spy. Her contingency plan involves tying her best of enemies to spinning wheels and quoting James Bond villains until satisfied.

Website | Twitter | Facebook | Instagram | Goodreads

$50 Amazon gift card and a signed collection of 13 magical romantic comedy (with a body count) books:

Playing with Fire

Hoofin' It

Hearth, Home, and Havoc

Serial Killer Princess

Whatever for Hire

Owl Be Yours

Last But not Leashed

Blending In

Fowl Play

Cheetahs Never Win

Burn, Baby, Burn

No Kitten Around

Double Trouble

Ends May 18
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Sometimes the Fates Weave Ruin | A Touch of Ruin by Scarlett St. Clair | Excerpt + Giveaway

2020-04-23T12:30:00.000+08:00

Persephone wonders if she can truly become Hades’ queen.

A Touch of Ruin

Hades & Persephone #2

Scarlett St. Clair

Publication Date: April 23, 2020

Genre: Adult, Paranormal, Romance

Persephone’s relationship with Hades has gone public and the resulting media storm disrupts her normal life and threatens to expose her as the Goddess of Spring.

Hades, God of the Dead, is burdened by a hellish past that everyone’s eager to expose in an effort to warn Persephone away.

Things only get worse when a horrible tragedy leaves Persephone’s heart in ruin and Hades refusing to help. Desperate, she takes matters into her own hands, striking bargains with severe consequences.

Faced with a side of Hades she never knew and crushing loss, Persephone wonders if she can truly become Hades’ queen.

Check out the first book in the series!

Persephone took her wine and purse into the bedroom. Dropping her bag on the bed, she moved into the bathroom and turned on the shower. As the water heated, she sipped on her wine before setting the glass aside so she could unzip her dress.

She paused when she felt Hades’ magic surround her. It was a distinct feeling—a tinge of winter on the air. She closed her eyes and prepared to vanish. It wouldn’t be the first time Hades had taken her to the Underworld without any notice, but instead, a hand touched beneath her chin and lips closed over hers. He kissed her like they hadn’t made love into the early hours of the morning, and when he pulled away, Persephone was breathless, the stress of her day forgotten.

Hades palm was warm against her cheek, and he brushed her lips with his thumb, dark eyes searching.

“Troubled, darling?”

She narrowed her gaze, suspicious.

“You followed me today, didn’t you?”

Hades didn’t even blink. “Why would you think that?”

“You insisted Antoni take me to work this morning, most likely because you already knew what the media was reporting.”

Hades shrugged. “I didn’t want to worry you.”

“So you let me walk into a mob?”

He raised a knowing brow. “Did you walk into that mob?”

“You were there!” She accused. “I thought we agreed. No invisibility.”

“I wasn’t,” he answered. “Hermes was.”

Damn you, Hermes.

She’d forgotten to extract a promise from the God of Mischief not to tell Hades about the crowd. He’d probably waltzed into Nevernight with a smile on his face to report what happened.

“You could always teleport,” Hades offered. “Or I can provide an Aeg—”

“I don’t want an Aegis,” she stopped him. “And I’d rather not use magic not...in the Upperworld.”

“Unless you’re exacting revenge?”

“That’s not fair. You know my magic has become more and more unpredictable. And I’m not eager to be exposed as a goddess.”

“Goddess or not, you are my lover.”

She didn’t mean to, but she wasn’t a fan of that word. She stiffened, and she knew by the way Hades’ eyes narrowed, he had noticed.

He continued, “It is only a matter of time before someone with a vendetta against me tries to harm you. I will keep you safe.”

Persephone shivered. She hadn’t thought about that.

“You really think someone would try to harm me?”

“Darling, I have judged human nature for a millennium. Yes.”

“Can’t you…I don’t know…erase people’s memories? Make them forget about all of this.” She waved her hand between them.

“It is too late for that,” he paused a moment and then asked, “What is so terrible about being known as my lover?”

“Nothing,” she said quickly. “It’s just...that word.”

“What’s wrong with lover?”

“It sounds so…fleeting. Like I am nothing but your sex slave.”

One corner of his lips curled. “What am I to call you, then? You have forbidden the use of my queen and my lady.”

“Titles make me…uncomfortable,” she said.

She wasn’t sure how else to explain why she’d asked him not to call her my queen or my lady, but it added up to the fact that they were two labels she could get used to, and that meant she was setting herself up for potential disappointment. The thoughts made her guilty, but the echoes of the heartbreak she’d experienced while they were separated made her cautious.

“It’s not that I don’t want to be known as your lover…but there has to be a better word.”

“Girlfriend?” Hades supplied.

She couldn’t suppress the laugh that tore from her throat.

“What’s wrong with girlfriend?” He asked, glowering.

“Nothing,” she said quickly. “It just seems so…insignificant.”

Their relationship was too intense, too passionate, too ancient for her to merely be his girlfriend.

But maybe that was just how she felt.

The tension eased from Hades’ features, and he drew his finger under her chin.

“Nothing is ever insignificant when it comes to you,” he said.

They stared at each other, and the air was heavy. Persephone itched to reach for him—to bring his lips to hers, to taste him. All she had to do was close the gap between them and they would ignite—fall so deep in their passion, nothing would exist beyond their skin.

About the Author

Scarlett St. Clair lives in Oklahoma with her husband. She has a Master's degree in Library Science and Information Studies and spends a lot of time researching reincarnation, unsolved murders and Greek mythology-all of which made it into her debut novel, When Stars Come Out.

$30 Amazon gift card
a Rafflecopter giveaway

Have you seen the cover of the third book in the series?

Cover Reveal | A Touch of Malice by Scarlett St. Clair | Nothing is certain but the promise of war

2020-04-22T12:30:00.000+08:00

I'm so excited to share the cover of the third book in Scarlett St. Clair's Hades & Persephone series!
Want to see it?
Scroll down.

...

Persephone and Hades are engaged. In retaliation, Demeter summons a snowstorm that cripples New Greece, and refuses to lift the blizzard unless her daughter calls off her engagement.

When the Olympians intervene, Persephone finds her future in the hands of ancient gods, and they are divided. Do they allow Persephone to marry Hades and go to war with Demeter or prohibit their union and take up arms against the God of the Dead?

Nothing is certain but the promise of war.

A Touch of Malice

Hades & Persephone #3

Scarlett St. Clair

Genres: Romance, Fantasy, Mythology, Retelling

Publication Date: April 2021 Check out the other books in the series!

About the Author