Excerpt & Giveaway! Lipstick and Camouflage (Brandt’s Dozen, Book One) by Frances Stockton

Security specialist Travis Blake’s undercover assignment should be easy. The former Navy SEAL has to protect Cassidy O'Neal from an elusive assassin. Yet, nothing about this case is simple.

For Cassidy, it’s easier to believe in ghosts than to think she’s in danger. Despite a series of unusual happenings around her apartment that make her feel uneasy, she has no idea her hot new neighbor is far more than he seems.

What starts off as simple flirtation quickly turns passionate. But, as danger intensifies, more than just their hearts are on the line.

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Maybe Justin was the reason she was so jumpy lately. He’d not exactly left that night with a smile and she’d wondered if he’d come back and try again.

Or, maybe it was something else, something unexplained. Ever since she’d gone to Salem and took Mike Smith’s place as the lead cameraman in a ghost hunt, something had been off kilter about her apartment and the building itself. Granted, they’d caught some amazing EVPs that night, but the experienced investigators in her group, Jerome and Sam, concluded what they’d caught on audio was residual and non-threatening.

If it wasn’t Justin Myers or a ghost, maybe it was that surveyor who’d staked out the neighborhood. He’d claimed to be doing a favor for a friend looking to move into the area and open a new business. She hadn’t believed him. That man had an aura about him that was mysterious and dark, maybe dangerous. She’d run him off, and as far as she knew, he’d not returned.

Frustrated, she snapped her book closed and set it aside, going over to check the last load of laundry for the day. Being Friday, she’d worked a half day and had plans to do laundry, eat rocky road ice cream for dinner, and continue reading Edmond’s tale of revenge, justice, and romance until he skewed his best friend with a sword.

Okay, she’d read the book a couple of times. Next week, she’d open up The Three Musketeers and have four book boyfriends, though her personal favorite was Aramis.

Yeah, like anything that exciting would happen to her, but one could dream a tale of fiction even if her day job wasn’t exactly the same as a French sailor’s false imprisonment or Musketeers saving a king from a treacherous cardinal.

Taking a moment to switch up her music, she chose her classic rock playlist and increased the volume, singing, well, mostly humming until her favorite line, “We were making it,” came out loud and clear.

As if it mattered how badly she was singing while pulling bras and panties out of the dryer and tossing them into the hip-hugging basket on the floor beneath the machine.

Slamming the dryer door home and picking up her basket, she turned to go back to where she’d been sitting when movement caught her eye. Whipping around, she saw a tall, impressively built man standing in the doorway, as if he’d stepped right out of the pages of one of her novels.

A heartbeat later, he came toward her, proving he was no figment of her active imagination and seeming to get bigger with every step. Unsure what to do, Cassidy threw her basket at him and rushed for the door, getting less than two feet before her bare foot caught his boot and she went tumbling.

My love for storytelling began in kindergarten when I created my first fictional characters. Though I’d given them simple nicknames, I’d convinced my family that Red Henry and Green Henry were identical twin brothers in my elementary school.

They were mischievous, rarely did their homework, had trouble with math and spelling, experienced heartbreaking losses, and yes, they even had girlfriends!

It wasn’t until the Henry twins mysteriously moved to a different state that my family realized that they were entirely fictitious and my mother suggested I write the stories down.

A few years later, I began to write, completing my first manuscript at age thirteen. I confess the heroine was a cross between Nancy Drew and a contemporary Laura Ingalls Wilder, who happened to be dating one of the Hardy Boys. But when I’d written ‘the end’ on the very last page, I’d known I had more stories to tell. Of course life intervened, but whether I was in high school, becoming part of a local theater and dance company, working as a Veterinary Technician, earning a degree in History and Secondary Education, or teaching, I was always writing and reading romances.

Finally, I met and married the love of my life and moved from Maryland to Massachusetts in 2001. Shortly after, I proudly joined Romance Writers of America and the New England Chapter, and I’ve been writing faithfully ever since.

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Excerpt & Giveaway! Scarless & Sacred, The Chicago War #3 by Bethany-Kris

Secrets and wars leave the deepest scars.

Evelina Conti has always worn a mask. She is an Outfit principessa, respected and adored. She wasn’t allowed to be anything else. Her father went from a grieving husband to the Outfit boss, and now that Riley heads the family, Eve is more suffocated than ever. No matter how much she hates it, the Conti princess still has a role to play. A little attention from Theo DeLuca seems innocent enough, but nothing is when it comes to him. And certainly not when everyone believes that Theo is out to kill her.

Theo DeLuca has a target on his back. His biggest problem is figuring out who put it there when everyone is aiming at him. He doesn’t need a woman causing him issues, but the Conti princess keeps showing up at the worst times, and he’s the one left saving her. Between the men surrounding him that Theo can’t trust, and the past he can’t outrun, Evelina might be the one thing he doesn’t have to question. But when Riley decides to use Eve as his next move, even Theo might not be able to save her.

The war in Chicago is not even close to being over. This game is deadly. Each hand played cuts another mark into someone else. The Outfit boss is struggling while the men around him are rallying. As the body count continues to rise, the families keep losing.

Sacrifices are a part of war. No one will walk away from this without scars.

***

PLEASE NOTE: Scarless & Sacred is not intended to be read as a standalone in this series. It is the third book in the series and should be read after the first two books. Trigger Warning: Scarless features graphic violence and scenes of past abuse.

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“I haven’t noticed you at church since your brother’s funeral.” 

Theo tensed in the driver’s seat and his hands gripped the steering wheel tight enough for his knuckles to turn ash white. “I’m not ready, I suppose.” 

“I get that.” 

Chuckles answered her back. 

“No, Eve, I don’t think you do. I’ve got a few things left to get finished, and when I go back, I’d like to get all of my confession out in one good, long sitting instead of three or four. Besides, confession is meant for those who don’t wish to repeat their sins. Mine are ones that won’t go away until others leave, too.” 

Evelina’s brow furrowed as she took in his words. He spoke about it so candidly, like he’d been thinking about it for a while. 

“Are you talking about my father?” 

Theo’s gaze cut to her as he took a corner sharply. “And if I was?” 

Evelina shrugged. “Look elsewhere for someone who cares, Theo.” 

“You care. Trust me, you do. Even the people we hate always manage to pull some sympathy from us, even if it’s just a little bit. Regardless of whatever you feel is wrong with your father, he’s still your blood, he still helped to put you on this earth, and you still love him, Eve. Simple as that.” 

“He didn’t care much about my mother these last few months.” 

Theo blew out a slow breath. “You’re not Riley. He’s not you.” 

“Is that how you feel about your brother or uncle?” 

“Hmm?” 

“Your brother and uncle. You were close to Ben but not really Dino. Is that how you feel about them, like your sympathy is greater for one, but still there in some way for the other?” 

Theo’s hands tightened on the wheel. “You ask a lot of questions.” 

“I’m a curious girl.” 

“Woman.” 

“What?” 

“You’re a woman, not a girl. You stopped being a girl years ago, Eve.” 

Evelina shivered in the passenger seat. The shadows of the passing street lights darkened Theo’s features. She couldn’t have hid the reaction even if she tried. Just the way his voice dipped into a lower cadence, and he passed her another silent look that said he could see she was very much a woman and not a girl was enough to make Evelina ache. 

And wet. 

“You did that on purpose,” Evelina accused. 

Her voice was weak. 

Or turned on. 

Theo raised a brow high. “I beg your pardon?” 

“That … that … right there,” Evelina struggled to say as she waved at him. 

Theo laughed under his breath. “Babe, I have no idea what you’re mumbling about, but all right. Whatever makes you happy, I guess.” 

“Stop it. You did do that on purpose, Theo. Just to distract me.” 

When his tongue snaked out to wet his lips as his hands slid across the steering wheel smoothly to take another turn, Evelina’s throat went dry. He handled his car easily, like he was holding onto feathers when in fact, the Stingray had one hell of an engine under the hood. She couldn’t stop the thoughts slamming into her one after the other as she watched him drive. 

Is that how he touches a woman? What do those hands feel like when they grab hard enough to hurt? Is that how he would touch me? 

Jesus. 

Evelina made a noise under her breath and turned her attention to anywhere but Theo DeLuca for a moment. 

“Eve?” 

“What?” 

Evelina had all she could do to ignore the heat between her legs and the air in her voice. She completely refused to even look at Theo again until she could manage to do so without contemplating how she could get his hands on her while he drove at the same time. 

Stop that right now. 

“I kind of did that on purpose,” Theo admitted.

Bethany-Kris is a Canadian author, lover of much, and mother to three young sons, one cat, and two dogs. A small town in Eastern Canada where she was born and raised is where she has always called home. With her boys under her feet, snuggling cat, barking dogs, and a hubby calling over his shoulder, she is nearly always writing something ... when she can find the time.

To keep up-to-date with new releases from Bethany-Kris, sign up to her New Release Newsletter here: http://eepurl.com/bf9lzD

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Excerpt & Giveaway! Magnate, Acquisition #2 by Celia Aaron

Lucius Vinemont has spirited me away to a world of sugar cane and sun. There is nothing he cannot give me on his lavish Cuban plantation. Each gift seduces me, each touch seals my fate. There is no more talk of depraved competitions or his older brother – the one who’d stolen me, claimed me, and made me feel things I never should have. Even as Lucius works to make me forget Sinclair, my thoughts stray back to him, to the dark blue eyes that haunt my sweetest dreams and bitterest nightmares. Just like every dream, this one must end. Christmas will soon be here, and with it, the second trial of the Acquisition.

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“Off.” He growled and gripped one side, yanking the shirt apart, buttons bouncing off the hardwood floors as he pulled the shirt roughly down my arms and tossed it.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” His body was hot, alive, and hard at my back. I couldn’t stay here. Not with him. Not in this bed like we were lovers, like we were two people who could seek solace from each other. We weren’t. We never could be those people. “Stop!”

He caged me, my struggles nothing to him even in his weakened state. “You aren’t leaving this bed. Get used to it. Don’t fucking try anything.”

I stopped fighting. There was no point. I would just have to wait until he fell asleep.

“You’re mine, Stella.” He tightened his grip with each word. “I don’t care where you run, who you choose, what you say, or what you fucking do. You, all of you, belongs to me.”

“I’m not a thing you can own,” I hissed.

He laughed, the sound low and full of heat. “You can hop countries like a skipping stone for all I care. I’ll find you, and you’ll wind up right where you are now.”

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Celia Aaron is the self-publishing pseudonym of a published romance and erotica author. She loves to write stories with hot heroes and heroines that are twisty and often dark. Thanks for reading.

Sign up for my newsletter at aaronerotica.com to get information on new releases. (I would never spam you or sell your info, just send you book news and goodies sometimes). 

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Sale Blitz! Excerpt & Giveaway: Killer Instinct, Killer Instinct #1 by S.E. Green

She’s not evil, but she has certain... urges.

Lane is a typical teenager. Loving family. Good grades. Afterschool job at the local animal hospital. Martial arts enthusiast. But her secret obsession is studying serial killers. She understands them, knows what makes them tick.

Why?

Because she might be one herself.

Lane channels her dark impulses by hunting criminals—delivering justice when the law fails. The vigilantism stops shy of murder. But with each visceral rush the line of self-control blurs.

And then a young preschool teacher goes missing. Only to return... in parts.

When Lane excitedly gets involved in the hunt for “the Decapitator,” the vicious serial murderer that has come to her hometown, she gets dangerously caught up in a web of lies about her birth dad and her own dark past. And once the Decapitator contacts Lane directly, Lane knows she is no longer invisible or safe. Now she needs to use her unique talents to find the true killer’s identity before she—or someone she loves—becomes the next victim... 

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~*~

CHAPTER ONE

I study serial killers. They’re loners. Obsessive compulsives. People who lack emotion and fantasize violence. Intelligent people who on the outside seem normal. 

Interesting thing is, I am those profiles. I have urges. I plot ways to violently make people pay for what they’ve done to others. 

Nature versus nurture. Of course I’ve studied that. I’ve got good parents with decent genetics so for me I’ve always suspected it’s something else. Except . . . I have no clue what. 

I don’t know why I am the way I am, why I think the way I think, why I do the things I do. All I know is that I’m different. Always have been. I can’t remember a time when I didn’t know something was off in me. 

At ten, when other kids were coloring with crayons, I started tracking serial killers and keeping details of their murders in a journal—a journal no one has ever seen but me.

Now, seven years later, most teens hang out with friends. I, however, prefer spending my spare time at the court house—with Judge Penn to be exact. He tries all the hard cases. 

His staff expects to see me, believing my lie about wanting to go into law, and so I give my customary nod as I enter the back of Penn’s court and quietly take my usual spot in the left rear corner. I sit down and get out my summer reading just in case today’s log is boring.

It’s not.

A balding, short, pudgy, accountant type man sits beside a slick lawyer he’s obviously spent a lot of money on. The Weasel is what I decide to name him. 

In the viewing gallery sit a handful of women, three are crying and two stoically stare straight ahead. 

On the stand is another one of the expressionless ones and she’s speaking, “. . . classical music, a candle. He knew his way around, like he’d been in my house before. He handcuffed my ankles and wrists to the bed posts and stuffed gauze in my mouth so my screams couldn’t be heard. He cut my clothes away and left me naked. He wore a condom and was clean shaven, everywhere. He had a full face mask on.”

No evidence.

“He raped me,” she matter-of-factly reports and then describes in detail all the vicious ways he violated her.

“I’m going to be sick,” the woman in front of me whispers before getting up and leaving the room.

I continue listening to the details, mentally cataloging them. Details don’t bother me. They don’t make me sick. They don’t make me want to leave a room. If anything they draw me in because they are just that—details, facts.

A few of the women in the room sniffle and I glance to The Weasel. Although he’s doing a good job of keeping his emotions blank, I catch a slight smirk on his lips that kicks my pulse.

This is one of the things I consider a talent of mine. While some people show every emotion, I show none. And I can read others’ body language, others’ faces when they think they’re doing a stellar job of masking. The Weasel obviously thinks he’s getting away with something.

Thirty minutes later The Weasel is found not guilty due to lack of evidence. As he walks from the court room, his slight smirk becomes more visible when he glances at one of the sniffling women.

This is another thing people make the mistake of—confidence, cockiness, ego.

The Weasel will rape again. Of this I’m sure.

If it is my destiny to be a killer, I’m going to need a type. And today decides that my type will be criminals—specifically, those that have managed to avoid punishment.

I turn seventeen next week. The Weasel will be my birthday present to myself. I think I’ve just found my first victim.

S. E. Green (aka Shannon Greenland) is the award winning author of the teen thriller, Killer Instinct, a YALSA Quick Pick for Reluctant Readers; the teen spy series, The Specialists, an ALA Popular Paperback and a National Reader’s Choice recipient; and the YA romance, The Summer My Life Began, winner of the Beverly Hills Book Award. Her books have been translated into several languages and are currently on numerous state reading lists. Vanquished is her debut novel for adults.

Shannon grew up in Tennessee where she dreaded all things reading and writing. She didn’t even read her first book for enjoyment until she was twenty-five. After that she was hooked! When she’s not writing, she works as an adjunct math professor and lives on the coast in Florida with her very grouchy dog. Find her online everywhere @segreenauthor.

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Author Interview, Review & Giveaway! Haven's Creed by Parker Williams

An act of violence destroys his family and ends the life he knows. To escape his haunted past, he joins the military, where, as a sniper, he is trained to kill with precision and detachment. When a covert organization offers him a new purpose, he becomes Haven, an operative devoted to protecting the innocent when he can and avenging them when he cannot.

After ten years of battling the evil in the world, the life no longer holds the attraction or meaning it once had, and he’s ready to walk away. Then he meets Samuel, a young man forced from the age of twelve to work as a sex slave. If ever a man had a need for Haven, it is this one. 

Yet nothing about this growing relationship is one-sided. Sammy gives Haven a stability he’s never known, and Haven becomes the rock upon which Sammy knows he can depend. 

When Sammy reveals something about the enemy Haven has been hunting for months, Sammy fears it will destroy what they’ve built and he’ll lose his home in Haven’s heart.

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Today I’m very grateful to be visiting Mikky’s World of Books! 

Tell us a little about yourself, your background, and your current book.

My name is Parker Williams (or Will Parkinson if you prefer). I live in Milwaukee, Wisconsin with my husband, our four dogs, and three cats.

Haven’s Creed is a huge departure from anything I’ve ever done in the past. Haven is not a nice man. He’s an assassin whose job it is to protect the innocent when he can, and avenge them when he can’t.

What is the nicest thing anyone has ever said about your writing?

The first time? That it didn’t suck!

Honestly, though…a man named Michael Thompson wrote to me to tell me how much Pitch, the story of Taylor and Jackson, meant to him. How it reminded him of his life. His letter was so poignant, it made me cry. (Though I will deny that part if anyone asks me.)

Are you a full-time or part-time writer? How does that impact your writing?

I’m a part-time writer. I also run Pride Promotions, a tour service that promotes other authors. I’d really like to be a full-time writer, and have about twenty stories in various stages of completion. Want an example? ☺

This is from a story called ‘Of Love and Corndogs’

Darwin sat at his usual table and scanned the restaurant, anxious to see Roy, his favorite server. He frowned when the young man who approached the table looked nothing like the raven haired beauty that Darwin had grown accustomed to seeing twice a week for the last six months. He tried to school his features, not wanting to hurt the feelings of the slender blond with the wide smile who drew near.

"Good evening, Mr. Kincade. My name is Richard and I'll be your server for this evening. Would you like to start with a drink?"

"Where's Roy?" Darwin growled. His cheeks heated when Richard stepped back, looking every bit the kicked puppy. Darwin winced. He knew better than to snap at people. He scratched his cheek before he glanced up. ”I’m sorry. It's been a long day. Please forgive me. I assume Roy isn't working tonight?"

"Roy quit a couple days ago,” came the hesitant answer.

Darwin's gut clenched. He'd been coming to Asiago simply to see Roy. The truth of the matter was the food was merely palatable. Seeing Roy had become the highlight of his week, and now he was gone. "Did he say where he was going?" Darwin knew a hint of whine escaped, but goddamn it, he'd been in lust with Roy.

"He and his wife moved to be closer to her parents."

Nausea rolled through Darwin. He hadn't even considered Roy might not have been gay. Such a fool he was.

"Would you like that drink?" Richard asked.

"Yes, please. A shot of Johnny Walker Blue, neat."

Richard gasped and then covered his mouth. "Sir, that costs--"

"I damn well know the cost. Bring me my drink."

Again, Darwin's anger had gotten the better of him. The stress of the day, coupled with his disappointment with Roy being gone had left him on shaky ground. Blue eyes shimmered in the dim lighting, and Darwin worried the young man might break into tears. "Again, please accept my apologies. I should probably go." He reached over and grabbed his briefcase, ready to stand up, when Richard held out a hand and graced Darwin with a genuine and disarming smile.

"No, please. Stay. Let me get you that drink, okay? I'll let you know the dinner special when I come back. My grandma always said any day can be made better with a good meal.”

Without waiting, Richard hurried off in the direction of the bar. Darwin fumed. Not only had he made a fool of himself tonight, but he'd also hurt the feelings of someone he didn't know. Though Richard would be right to refuse to service Darwin, he ran to get a drink. As much as he wanted to believe it the attentive attitude came down to getting a decent tip, Richard seemed to be too earnest for that. Darwin sighed and put his briefcase back on the leather seat. His mother would be so disappointed in him.

The crystal glass thunked against the table and startled Darwin when Richard set it down. The amber liquid rippled gently. Darwin picked it up and gazed into the glass. He'd thought about downing it in one go, relishing the burn that would inevitably follow, but he hated to lose control. He took a deep, steadying breath

"Richard--"

"Ricky."

"Excuse me?"

"Most people call me Ricky. You can, if you want."

Darwin smiled at him. "Ricky then. I'm very sorry. I'm out of sorts, and it's not fair to you that I'm being so...."

"Antagonistic?"

Darwin pulled back and looked at the young man, who was now giving him a cheeky grin. "Okay, we'll go with that."

"I'm sorry I'm not Roy. I'd only met him when I got hired here. He was a great waiter, and I doubt I can fill his shoes. If you prefer, I'll find you someone else."

Darwin grinned. This Ricky definitely hadn’t been at all like he expected. Roy had been standoffish, a little cold, but very professional. Ricky? A breath of fresh air. He had a style all his own. "No, I think you'll do just fine. Tell me about the dinner special."

"Tonight we have a truffle braised tenderloin served with whipped Dauphenaise potatoes and honey glazed carrots."

"And what did you think of it?"

"Excuse me?"

Darwin tapped his index finger on the table. “I assume you tried it, so what did you think?"

Ricky bit the corner of one lip, then glanced around, before he leaned forward and whispered, "Honestly? I thought it was pretentious. Give me a corndog any day."

Darwin burst out laughing, which drew unhappy stares from the tables nearby. It wasn't as if he cared. "What's a corndog?"

Ricky blinked a couple of times. "You don't know what a corndog is? Seriously?"

"Well.... no. I don't know that I've ever had one. Do you think they can make me one here?"

Ricky snorted. "Chef Michael thinks that corndogs aren't even real food. He claims he wouldn't feed them to his Pekinese. So, no, you definitely won't find them here."

Darwin glanced up at Ricky. A nice, easy smile. Loose limbed. He had none of the trappings of a Asiago waiter. "Then can you tell me where to find a good corndog?"

"The best ones in town are at the mini-putt course over on Klein."

"Mini-putt?"

Ricky cocked his head. “You're kidding, right? How do you not know these things?"

Darwin sat back and grinned. Ricky had no idea who he was, and he found it oddly refreshing. He leaned forward and put his chin on the palm of his hand. "I lead a sheltered life, apparently. So if I want a corndog, I need to go to the mini-putt place. Okay, I'll do that."

He stood up and began to move toward the door when the owner rushed to his table. She scowled at Ricky, which didn't set well with Darwin at all. "Mr. Kincaid, is something wrong?"

"No, everything is perfect. I like this young man," he said, waving a hand toward Ricky. "He's refreshing."

The condescending look Louisa gave Ricky told him she didn't agree. "If he's done anything to upset you—“

"Wait. Why would you think he upset me? If anything, I was the responsible party. Ricky did nothing wrong at all. He talked me into a nice drink, and that's all I needed for tonight.” He turned to Ricky. “I’ll stop at the bar to pay for the drink. Thank you for a most entertaining meal.”

He reached into his wallet and peeled off two one-hundred dollar bills, which he tossed on the table, then started for the door again. He turned and saw Louisa's body language. She was tense, her gaze fixed on Ricky, who bit the corner of his lip. Darwin found that didn’t set well with him at all. He called out, "I'm coming back Monday. Can you please reserve me a table and note that I want Ricky as my server?"

If she'd had a mouthful of water, she'd have spit it everywhere. "You want...him?"

"Yes. Is there a problem with that?"

She moved forward and put a hand on his back as she guided him to the door. Darwin forced himself to remain calm. He didn’t like being touched by people without his permission, and this woman had already gotten his dander up. "Well," she said slowly. "Ricky is on probation. He hasn't exactly been working out. He's slow, and has been argumentative with customers."

"Yet he was perfect with me. Perhaps it was the customers and not the server. Maybe you should consider that. I expect him to be here Monday. If he’s not…”

Darwin left the threat unvoiced. Louisa knew who he was and what he could do if he wanted. He left the woman standing there, huffing like a wild beast, as he stepped out of the restaurant into the cool Chicago night. He gazed wistfully back at the front of the restaurant while he called his driver. Roy was gone, but...Ricky seemed as though he'd be very interesting, too."

"That was fast, Dare."

Darwin grinned at his oldest friend. "They didn't have what I wanted for dinner tonight. The new waiter suggested something, and I find I really want to try it."

Henley's puzzled expression delighted Darwin. He'd been friends with Henley since they were kids, and he rarely frazzled the man. He wondered what the man would say when he told them where they were going. Henley opened the door to the limousine, then closed it after Darwin slid in. He returned to the driver's side and started the car.

"Okay, where to?"

"We're going to the mini-putt course on Klein for a corndog."

At that moment, Darwin wished he had his phone out to take a picture. He'd frame it and hang it in the house so everyone could see Henley looking at though his jaw had unhinged and was now resting atop his polished shoes.

Yes, Ricky could be an inspiration to me.

What interested you about the theme of this book?

Confession time: Haven’s Creed was written as a pressure release valve. I used to work with a woman who drove me insane. She was, without a doubt, one of the worst people I’d ever had the ‘pleasure’ of dealing with. She had always been great with the guests, but with the other staff? Awful. Rude. Condescending. And the biggest problem would be the fact she ran hot and cold. One minute she’d be cheery and happy, the next she would like rip your face off if she could.

I took to writing to deal with her, and from those plots of evisceration came Haven’s book.

What is the most difficult part of writing for you?

Editing. In fact, I call them ‘Dread-its’, because I just hated doing them. I realize it makes for a better book, but I just don’t wanna. (Yes, there’s a whine in there.)

Name your four most important food groups.

As a vegan I’m going with Joey’s Fabulous Tofu Steak, any Gardein product, Daiya cheese, and lots of water.

Mr. Williams, I wasn’t aware you had a dark side. Interesting. 

It’s been a while since I’ve read something dark and Haven’s Creed was the perfect story to make up for the lost time.

Parker managed to pull off beautifully a genre totally (as far as I’m aware) new to him.

The story is full of suspense, action, mystery and situations that will chill the blood in your veins.

In other words- perfect.

Haven is not exactly a hero but he’s not a villain either. Depends on how you look at things. He goes where he’s sent, does his job and returns to a solitary existence time and time again.

Wash, rinse, repeat. Until the day when everything starts to change.

Enter Sammy, a very interesting character. 

Let’s talk a little bit about his and Haven’s relationship because I have a feeling that it will be the cause of many mixed feelings.

I’ll be honest and admit that, what they have, it’s not completely healthy BUT, it’s perfect for them. Here’s why.

First of all, Sammy’s desire to be in control is completely understandable. After so many years of utter slavery, having, finally, an opportunity to be the master of his own destiny brought to the surface that part of him that has never lost hope and that no one has managed to break.

Every minute he spent outside the house of horrors and every nice word he’s received has been exactly what kept him from giving up and what his wounded soul needed to keep hoping that, someday, someone will come and set him free.

Then, there’s the hate he feels for the one who was supposed to love him unconditionally but, instead, chose to discard him like a useless rag.

He might not express it all the time, but it’s there and hate can be a powerful thing, strong enough to take over every other rational thought.

Like I said before, his attachment to Haven is not exactly healthy, but they’re not normal people either.

The rules don’t apply when it comes to them.

Sammy is everything Haven needs to escape the harsh reality of his life even for a few hours and, in exchange, Sammy draws his strength and confidence from from the knowledge that he’ll always be safe as long as he’s standing by his lover’s side. 

They need each other to heal and to be normal, or, at least, as normal they can possibly be.

If you go in hoping this will be a hearts and flowers kind of romance, let me tell you now that this definitely ain’t the book for you.

It’s dark, it’s violent and it will mess you up.

Haven’s Creed is the story of a man who’s been turned into a soulless killing machine and whose acts of violence will leave you breathless, while the other man’s story will break your heart over and over again. 

You will either love them or hate them, there’s no way in between.

My advice to you is to try and keep an open mind while reading this book. Before jumping on the “this is crap” wagon, keep in mind that there’s nothing normal when it comes to either Haven or Samuel. 

You can’t judge based on what YOU would do or what YOU think is right.

And, who knows, they might still surprise you in the end. 

Another add to my “Favorites” list. MWOB highly recommends it.

Happy Reading!!

Parker Williams believes that true love exists, but it always comes with a price. No happily ever after can ever be had without work, sweat, and tears that come with melding lives together. 

Living in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, Parker held his job for nearly 28 years before he decided to retire and try new things. He enjoys his new life as a stay-at-home author and also working on Pride-Promotions, an LGBT author promotion service.

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Excerpt & Giveaway! The Love Triangle Gone Wrong by Rob Rosen

Five actors, one play, a murder, and a security guard who seeks the truth, not to mention love, all set the stage for this hilarious tale of mystery and intrigue in small town America. You’ll never guess what, or who, is going to come next!

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~*~

I turned to glance at the audience, saw that everyone was suddenly and surprisingly alert and then quickly whipped my head back around to see all the actors in the play each pointing a gun at someone else in the play. It was an interesting plot twist given that the first act was more comedy—intentional or not—rather than murder mystery.

Then, BOOM, a gun went off on stage.

I jumped. The theater jumped in unison. Several people sucked in their breaths. I hoped no one was about to choke on a lozenge because mouth-to-mouth on the elderly is never fun—trust me on that one. The actress ran to one of her lovers. She knelt down by his side. Her eyes went wide. She screamed. I almost applauded. It was the best acting she’d done all day. Then she screamed again. “He’s been shot!”

“Um, duh,” I whispered to myself.

“Someone call the police!” she added.

No one moved, though I heard a few people behind me shift nervously around in their seats. One old guy coughed. I waited for a choking sound. Thankfully, it was just a cough and nothing more. Phew.

The other actors suddenly looked uneasy. I reached for my gun on instinct. Well, I reached for my can of mace actually, which was all I was allowed to legally carry, but it was still a weapon—you now, mostly. I mean, a shot of mace to the eyes can take a man down right quick. I know because I accidentally on purpose shot myself in the face with it once, just to see if mace had an expiration date. Turned out, it doesn’t.

“He’s dead!” shouted the actress hysterically.

The other actors rushed to their downed brethren. Suddenly, they didn’t all seem so, you know, acty. I too rushed the stage, taking the stairs off to the side two at a time. “Nobody move!” I shouted, can of mace held up high.They all stared up at me and grimaced. The cuckolded husband shouted, “Call the police! He really has been shot!”

~*~

Rob Rosen (www.therobrosen.com), award-winning author of the novels Sparkle: The Queerest Book You'll Ever Love, Divas Las Vegas, Hot Lava, Southern Fried, Queerwolf, Vamp, Queens of the Apocalypse, Creature Comfort and Fate, and editor of the anthologies Lust in Time, Men of the Manor and Best Gay Erotica 2015 and 2016, has had short stories featured in more than 200 anthologies.

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Book Promo! Miles Away, Carrion #1 by Addison Kline

The mafia couldn't kill him. 

Prison couldn't break him. 

Going home threatens to do both. 

Miles Capadonno has made some mistakes. Once part of the Capadonno crime family, he took the fall for another member of the crime family who once tried to kill him. At age 17, they put a contract out on Miles' head for neglecting to complete a job. It was a matter of priority. Miles went to his dying mother's side instead of picking up stolen merchandise from the ship yard. When you're in with the Capadonno's, whether you're blood or sworn in, when they say jump you jump, when they say kill you kill. Ignoring an order is an offense of the highest degree. When they couldn't kill him, they let Miles take the fall for another Capadonno family member. Now 15 years later, Miles is being released. He is ready to put his past behind him. There's only one problem. There is still a contract on Miles' head. This time, Miles is man enough to collect on owed debts, and he will not back down from the family that stabbed him in the back. 

Leticia "Letty" Alves is a saucy Latina and Miles' old high school girlfriend. She was only 16 when Miles was arrested, but she hasn't stopped wondering about the boy who charmed her all those years ago. Now working as a nurse for a home health agency, Letty's priorities are to take care of herself and her 18 month old son, Gabriel. But when Miles walks back into her life everything changes, and suddenly, the family that she had avoided all her life, is now breathing down her neck looking for Miles. Letty is no damsel in distress, though. She's a fighter, and she never backs down from a challenge. 

Sparks fly when Miles and Letty reunite. Can they put their differences aside to become one again? Can Miles set down his pride and accept the help and love that Letty can provide? Will Letty get over her resentment over being left so long ago when Miles was arrested? Only readers know for sure. 

Welcome to Carrion, New Jersey, where the Capadonno's call the shots. Miles was away for so long, but now the prodigal son has returned. One thing is for sure, the family business isn't ready for a bastard like him.

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Addison Kline is an award winning, best selling novelist who writes mystery, psychological thrillers and romantic suspense novels. She lives in Pennsylvania with her husband, their sons and two rambunctious dogs. Addison has had a love affair with the written word since before she entered school. Her grandmother taught her the glory of taking an adventure in the pages of a book. When Addison isn’t writing, you can find her reading, going for an adventure with her sons, or traveling with her family.

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