February 9, 2015

Book Promo: Excerpt & Giveaway! Majestic Pearls, Majestic Pearls #1 by Katja O.



Some believe in fate others not so ...

Who would think that a simple car accident could determine someone's destiny?

But when Mia Tandy meets Nicholas Devlin their world's are changed. 

Falling in love should be simple, should be natural and joyous but, as they are from different world's, there are many obstacles thrown in their way. 

There is one thing that no one can control and that is undying love. Fate has brought these two together, and class is keeping them apart. 

What they don't realize is ... they are somehow connected. 

One person holds the piece to this puzzle. 

A secret from yesteryear and a certain string of pearls holds the key. These secrets not only are the key to a old romance but a key to their destiny.











Not to stray from the common Author clichĂ©, I loved to read as a child – I actually excelled in reading from a young age. This was definitely to my advantage. In saying that I only enjoyed reading “happily ever after stories.”
As I grew older my pleasures turned to “teen romance stories” with the obvious transition being heavy love stories and of course Jackie Collins’ novels.
Then due to relationship and work commitments my reading all but ceased until my children were at an age where I could steal and hour or two (which then became an hour or four). 
A few years ago I discovered the Twilight Saga, this kept my thoroughly entertained for years as I read and re-read numerous times… Enter 50 Shades. I think the fact that these books were written by amateur writers stirred something inside of me.
A few years ago my dear mother passed away, I became really lost —books became my saviour. They took me to a very special place … away from reality. One night I had this dream, it was so vivid in my mind that when I awoke it was fresh and alive. It just kept growing and growing and that’s when Majestic Pearls was born. I've not looked back since.
Music is my passion, I love it! Though it needs to be genre’s from the fifties through to the eighties. Everything I do is done to music from my writing through to my housework—it soothes my soul. 
I also have full time duties with my husband (fourth child) and our family business and three sons which all keeps me on my toes, there’s never a dull moment around my house.
Living in the beautiful Melbourne Australia, we have an abundance of restaurants and cafĂ©’s which is my other passion … coffee dates with my wild and wacky high school friends … after thirty plus years we still catch up regularly and have a wild time. All of these people and my large family form my circle … a circle that I love and are thankful to have.




February 8, 2015

Book Promo: Excerpt & Giveaway! Guarding Nadia by Lainey Reese

Genre: Adult, Erotic Ménage Romance

Nadia has been an erotic author of BDSM novels for years. She is no stranger to her work bringing out the crazy in some people. However, she was not prepared for a stalker and had no idea the lengths he would go to in order to have her.

Desperate when the police are unable to help, Nadia turns to a highly rated security team for protection. Although they looked more like GQ models than bodyguards, Nadia puts her trust and her life into their safekeeping.

From the moment she walked into their offices, Caleb and Jonas knew that there was nothing they wouldn’t do to keep Nadia safe. Upon discovering the type of books she writes, they are floored because she has no idea that they are active members of not one but two BDSM clubs and had both reached Master status long ago. 

As the two men guard her body and strive to win her heart there is one out there who will stop at nothing to claim what his twisted mind has convinced him is his. Including the murder anyone who stands in his way.

**Guarding Nadia is a Novella and comes with THREE never before Published (in a book) scenes from Lainey’s New York series.**

Excerpt from Guarding Nadia © Lainey Reese

Two hours later, Nadia was frumped out in baggy sweats and a ratty tee, with fluffy socks on her feet that were- unbelievably- resting in Jonas' lap.  When she'd come down from her bath, the men had the popcorn popped and a selection of candy and drinks spread out that she knew didn't come from her kitchen.  She'd smiled and gratitude filled her when she realized that one of them had made a run to the store.  It was a small thing to most people, but for her the gesture was huge.  They were here to protect her from harm, not to coddle and entertain her.  She knew that this was a rare occurrence on their part, and she was touched deeply by it and them.  The contract that she'd signed in their office two days ago had outlined in minute detail what services they provided, gummy bears and foot rubs had not been on that list. 
"I still can't believe you picked Die Hard to watch,"
 Jonas commented as he dug his thumbs into the arches of her feet with deliriously wonderful results.  She moaned and replied; "Hey.  Just because I'm a girl doesn't mean I have to watch chick flicks.  I love action movies.  Die Hard is a classic and Bruce Willis is a freaking stud."
"I agree with the classic part."  Caleb said.  "No comment on the stud part.  He's not my type."  Nadia chuckled and cranked her head to look up at him. 
When she first sat down tonight, she'd been seated between them like a proper lady, with both feet on the floor and her back resting against the cushions behind her.  Before the first preview had even finished, Caleb and Jonas pounced.  Jonas had grabbed her feet and tugged them into his lap, while Caleb took her by the shoulders and adjusted her until she was reclining against him with her head comfortably nestled on his chest.  His elbow was on the couch back, and his fingers had been playing in her curls nonstop. 
There was something in his expression as she gazed up at him that was different.  If she didn't know any better, she would call that look he was giving her 'intent'.  Part of her said she was being fanciful, and it was just the wishful thinking of her long neglected hormones running away with her.  The other part of her said she was right on track.
They had her spread out between them, and had been touching her nonstop since she'd sat down. Yes, they were here on a job.  However, the familiarity of their touch had left the realm of professionalism the moment she'd clung to Caleb and cried earlier.  She'd made the first move.  Breached the lines and took things beyond professional.  Could they be acting on that, and letting her know in a not so subtle way that they were open to being more than just her bodyguards?
Considering who she was and what she did for a living, the erotic images that immediately sprang to life in her brain had her muscles loosening and her pulse rabbiting.  Then reality smacked her in the head.  Stuff like that only happened in books.  No way could this be anything more than what it was.  She was deluding herself if she thought that anything even remotely close to what she was fantasizing about would happen.  Threesomes were things that only reckless and drunk college students did.  People in the real world, with careers and families didn't have wild sexcapades on the job.  Or off for that matter.  This was just stress and loneliness making more out of their kindness than what was there, and she needed to get a hold of herself before she ended up looking like an idiot.
Caleb touched his finger between her brows.  "What's caused this?"
"What do you mean?" She asked him.
"You were smiling a minute ago and now there's a frown here.  What thought caused that?"  His finger was still on her brows, gently tracing them and it was doing amazing things to her insides, even as his question caused her to flush uncomfortably.  She ducked her chin and broke eye contact as she tried to think of something to say.
"Hey."  Jonas squeezed at the foot he was rubbing and she looked at him.  "Honest answers only between us.  No half truths or dodging either."  His expression grew intense.  "On any subject.  No matter what it is."
Nadia felt as if she were in an alternate universe.  Everything felt unreal, as though she were in one of her books after all.  Could it be that these two unbelievably sexy and intense men were thinking the same thoughts that she was?  Did she dare tell them the truth that they demanded?  What if she did and then she had to suffer through the humiliating let down speech?
What if she did and they took her up on it?
All Nadia's life she'd lived as a responsible, sensible young lady.  She never smoked or partied as a teen.  Never snuck out of the house at night to meet up with friends or a boy.  She didn't have her first drink until her twenty-first birthday.  On top of that, despite what she wrote, sex for her had always been one on one.  In the dark.  Boring.  No fuss, no frills, no kink...no fun.
Nadia had always believed that was the reason she wrote what she did.  There was so much pent up inside of her that it had to have an outlet somewhere or she'd combust. 
As she tore her gaze from Jonas and looked back up at Caleb, she thought to herself that they might say no,  but, they might just say yes. God help her but she didn't want to miss out on what would happen if they wanted her, and if there was even a small chance that they did, it was worth the risk.
"I was thinking that this was very intimate and sexy at first.  Like something out of one of my books right before things get wild and kinky.  Then I told myself to snap out of it.  This wasn't a book, and that wild and kinky didn't happen in the real world."  She swallowed before adding; "At least not to me."
"Bruce."  Caleb said.
"What?"  She was confused.  His look was back to being intense, and she would swear he was about to kiss her, so she had no clue why he would say something like that.
"Bruce." He repeated.  "That's your safe word.  Say, yes sir, if you understand and agree.  If not say, Bruce and we stop here and now."
"Holy shit."  Nadia was dumbstruck. 


"That wasn't one of your options, sweetheart."  Jonas' chuckle was as seductive as a caress.  




Lainey lives in beautiful Washington State. She's the youngest of five and has always wanted to be a writer. Her first novel, -A Table for Three- was nominated for best debut novel of 2010 by the Romance Review and marked a dream come true for Lainey.
With her third published release -Damaged Goods-, Lainey saw another of her dreams realized when she took a leap of faith to become a full-time author and left the safety net of a day job behind. Now she spends her days writing, with her dog at her feet and a cat curled in her lap, and asks herself a dozen times a day; how'd I ever get so lucky?





Book Blitz: Excerpt & Giveaway! Rynlee's Song, Daughter of the Time #1 by Eliza Marie Jones

Rynlee Nalis is a demon hunter. She is a Purator, belonging to an organization who slay demons to serve their King. Even though she’s a candidate to succeed the High Purator, eighteen-year-old Rynlee doesn’t want the responsibility.

Her entire world is turned upside down when Jeynen shows up at the temple that is her school and home. She thought he died five years ago.

And he has no idea who she is.

When an assassin comes for Jeynen and he manages to flee for his life, Rynlee rushes after him. As she tries to discover the truth about him, she stumbles onto an ancient prophecy and challenges those who want to destroy the balance of magic.

Request a review copy here!


Rynlee stood in the middle of a battlefield, with bodies lying mangled all around her; the bloody light of a full crimson moon lit the scene with a gruesome integrity. Moans of anguish from the dying and a pregnant silence from the dead met her ears. The smell of it all nearly made her gag; decaying flesh with mud and smoke filled her lungs.

Confused and caught into believing the scene to be real, Rynlee walked forward, stepping over and around the crumpled forms littering the ground. Suddenly she saw a familiar face, stained with blood and missing an arm. Bending down for a closer look, Rynlee covered her mouth in unmasked horror. Her apprentice’s eyes were unseeing, staring up at the black sky, her mouth frozen in an expression of pure terror. Mud and blood painted Cherylt’s custard-colored curls, matted to her head.

Rynlee stumbled away in shock. Cherylt wasn’t dead. She was safe back at the complex, wasn’t she? Rynlee felt dread creep up on her, mingling with panic and disbelief. She came upon another person she knew. It was a woman with silvery black hair that she couldn’t quite put a name to, lying face down, and a deep slash across her back. As she was about to crouch down and turn the woman over to see her face, Rynlee heard a low rumbling and suddenly a cloud of dust rose all around her, lessening her vision to only a few feet. She choked and coughed, waving her arm through the air to try to clear it. Dust still hung in the air as a dirty mist, cloaking the dead and dying bodies with a suffocating hold.





This is the website of author Eliza Marie Jones. I’m a writer, gardener, nail polish junkie, and artist. I live with my husband in Alberta, Canada. I took website programming and graphic design in college, which comes in very handy doing all the non-writing parts of being an author.






Book Promo: Excerpt & Giveaway! Hooked by Christine Manzari


If you ask the confident and snarky skater girl, and she’s in the mood to share, she’ll tell you her name is Cat. She might even tell you that she’s hooked on graffiti, 80s movies, and having fun—the riskier the better. Cat will share a good time with you, but she won’t ever trust you enough to share her heart. It’s protected by secrets and she’d like to keep it that way.

Cat knows one thing for certain: Love isn’t really her thing.

If you ask the confident and rich pretty boy, he might tell you his name is Huck. He might even tell you he loves a challenge and is used to getting his way. He won’t tell you that his life is a mess because he risked his heart by trusting the wrong girl. Huck is ready for a change, he just wasn’t ready to get hooked on someone like Cat.

Huck knows one thing for certain: Love hasn’t done him any favors, but Cat just might be worth the risk.

Cat and Huck think a one-night stand seems harmless, but when all the little secrets they didn’t share turn out to be toxic truths, they realize how easily a one-night stand (or a few) could ruin everything.

The thing is, you can be ruined in more than one way. Once you’re HOOKED, what wouldn’t you risk for the chance at more?

“I’m going to kiss you,” he warned.

“It’s about time.” I barely managed to finish speaking before his lips were on mine, silencing me. It wasn’t common for people to be able to shut me up so easily. I had to give Huck credit. Kissing was a very effective method.

One of his hands was on my hip, pulling me against him while the other was on the back of my neck, fingers clutching in the loose weave of my braid. I ran my hands up his chest and he murmured my name in response before I linked my fingers behind his neck and pulled him in closer. His mouth opened to mine and our tongues met with heavy breaths and begging lips. Huck leaned into me, walking me up against the wall behind my door, pressing his hips into mine. My lips broke away from his as I let out a moan at the contact. He did it again and I closed my eyes, pleasure unfurling through my body with every heartbeat. His head dipped to the curve of my neck as he nipped a few hungry kisses along the skin there and at that moment, I thought I might stop breathing. How could the simple touch of his lips have such an effect on me?

I was vaguely aware that I’d been sweating in the hot sun all morning, had just eaten a huge hamburger, and probably tasted like avocados and salt. But I didn’t care. His lips were on my skin and I wanted to let him taste any part of my body he wanted. I pushed my fingers up into his thick hair, dragging my nails lightly across his scalp. He growled, bringing his mouth back to mine. 

“Do that again,” he ordered, his lips moving against mine before his tongue was tracing the edges of my satisfied smile. 

I did as he asked, allowing my fingernails to stray lightly through his hair, down his neck, and along his back until they found the hem of his shirt. Huck’s hands were framing my ribs, his thumbs circling lightly against the fabric of my tank top, inching it up as he kissed me. I bunched the bottom of his t-shirt in my hands, using it to push us away from the wall. He pulled away from the kiss, eyes stormy with desire and amusement as he allowed me to slowly force him backwards. When his knees hit the seat of my chair, I pushed him down into it. It was a garish, odd thing that I’d found at an antique store last year and asked Jay to re-upholster for me. It had always been more for looks than use, but as I stood staring down at the undeniably sexy man sitting in it, I was not only grateful I’d rescued it, but thankful it didn’t have arms either.

I placed my hands on Huck’s shoulders and then carefully walked forward until I was straddling him. I slowly sat down until the backs of my thighs touched the top of his, the juncture of our legs separated by only a few pieces of clothing that I suddenly wished weren’t there. He made a low noise in response but my mouth was already on his, swallowing his incoherent cursing with insistent kisses. He groaned as I gently rolled my hips forward. 

“You’re too much, Cat.” 

“Too much how?” I demanded, nipping at his lips with light kisses, dragging my nails through his hair, and pushing my hips into his again.

“Everything. All of you. God, I can’t think straight.”


The first thing Christine does when she's getting ready to read a book is to crack the spine in at least five places. She wholeheartedly believes there is no place as comfy as the pages of a well-worn book. She's addicted to buying books, reading books, and writing books. Books, books, books. She also has a weakness for adventure, inappropriate humor, and coke (the caffeine-laden bubbly kind). Christine is from Forest Hill, Maryland where she lives with her husband, three kids, and her library of ugly spine books
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Book Blitz & Gveaway! Revelations by Jennifer Carole Lewis


For millennia, the lalassu have existed at the fringes of society, hiding in the shadows. But someone is determined to drag them into the light.

Dani has spent years fighting against her family’s urges to take on the mantle of High Priestess for the lalassu. Stronger and faster than any ordinary human, she has no interest in being a guide for her people. She likes being independent and enjoys her night-job as a burlesque dancer. But a darker secret lurks inside of her, one which threatens everyone around her.

Isolated and idealistic, Michael works as a developmental therapist for children, using his psychometric gifts to discover the secrets they can’t share with anyone else. When one of his clients is kidnapped, he will do almost anything to rescue her. The investigation leads him to a seedy little performance club where he is shocked and thrilled to discover a genuine live superhero.

Michael and Dani must join forces to save those they care about from becoming the latest victims of a decades-long hunt. But the fiery chemistry between them threatens to unlock a millennia-old secret which could devour them both.

The clock is ticking and they will be faced with the ultimate hero’s choice: save the world or save each other?

Into The World Of The Lalassu

Lalassu is an Akkadian word which means spectre or hidden. Since my community of supernaturally powered people goes back to ancient Babylon, which spoke Akkadian, I chose it as the name of their secret society.

I love the idea of secret organizations and communities living within the regular world. The Templars and Masons, the Illuminati, even the original gatherings of Christians under the Roman Empire’s rule, there’s just something appealing about the idea of being part of a distinguished, but secret, group. Of course there are actual distinct communities which share space but not lives. The best illustration I’ve ever seen comes from J. Michael Straczynski’s Midnight Nation, inspired by his observation of how the homeless and destitute share geography with the regular folk, but remain unseen and hidden from view.

When it came to creating the world of the lalassu, I spent a lot of time thinking about how they would interact with the world. Ancient Persia, Greece and Rome all have myths of powerful demigods with strange gifts, usually extraordinary strength. The lalassu could have lived quite openly and comfortably. Some probably even had cults and rituals based around them. The turning point would come with the Roman Emperor Constantine and his adoption of Christianity as the state religion of the Roman Empire. After that, local cults were no longer tolerated. The lalassu would have had the choice of fighting the Romans (which some certainly did) or withdrawing and hiding amongst the crowd.

With the Middle Ages came the witch trials. Suddenly having strange powers was a death sentence, no matter how useful or helpful those might be. Historically, many of the “witches” burned at the stake were healers and midwives, so I’m sure the inquisitors would have had no trouble condemning mediums, shapeshifters and predictives as demons. The witch hunts would have driven the lalassu survivors deep underground and pushed them to the fringes. Like gypsies and tinkers, they began to travel frequently to escape the scrutiny of suspicious neighbors. They likely would have been welcomed among the tents of travelling entertainers as psychics, strongmen and freaks.

Gradually the world ceased to believe in extraordinary powers, making it easier for the lalassu to hide. However, the rise of science threatened a new exposure, one which could be replicated rather than dismissed as legend. If a naturalist discovered the lalassu, he or she could bring unwelcome attention on the entire community. Keeping out of traditional roles became even more important.

The increase in the authority of the state drove yet another nail in the coffin. Up until a hundred years ago, it was relatively easy to simply start a new life and a new identity, provided one was not claiming to be part of the aristocracy or other elite groups. People more or less trusted newcomers to be who they said they were. But as governments began to issue official identification papers and keep track of their citizens, it becomes harder to exist on the fringe of society without leaving telltale traces.

I based lalassu culture on the loose organization of the Romany (albeit in a very general way as there is little available for reliable detailed research). Each group of lalassu has its leaders but each leader has a great deal of autonomy to make decisions. They communicate to warn of potential problems for their people or to pass on invitations to particularly lucrative ventures. They work in cash-under-the-table jobs such as day labor or the quasi-legitimate markets of palm readers and other psychic ventures. Some cross the line into criminal enterprises. They move frequently to avoid drawing attention to themselves. Their safety relies on being effectively invisible.

Because they stay to the fringes, they have to rely on themselves to take care of any problems which arise. If a customer cheats them, they can’t go to the police to complain. Instead, they might call on relatives to teach a physically painful lesson on keeping one’s word, or use their gifts to frighten the mark or even break into the customer’s home or business to extract retribution. If money becomes scarce, they cannot apply for assistance. Instead they rely on their families and fellow lalassu to assist them. The family becomes everything, support system and safety net. Breaking from the family leaves an individual incredibly vulnerable and isolated.

Things are reaching another turning point for the lalassu. In an age where the shadows they hide in are becoming narrower due to constant surveillance and international cooperation, the risk of exposure is becoming greater with every passing year. 

The lalassu books will focus on different aspects of the community and the reality of dealing with superpowers and still trying to keep them secret. I hope you’ll enjoy exploring it as much as I do.

Jennifer Carole Lewis
Revelations
www.pastthemirror.com


Jennifer Carole Lewis is a full-time mom, a full-time administrator and a full-time writer, which means she is very much interested in speaking to anyone who comes up with any form of functional time-travel devices or practical cloning methods. Meanwhile, she spends her most of her time alternating between organizing and typing.

She is a devoted comic book geek and Marvel movie enthusiast. She spends far too much of her precious free time watching TV, especially police procedural dramas. Her enthusiasm outstrips her talent in karaoke, cross-stitch and jigsaw puzzles. She is a voracious reader of a wide variety of fiction and non-fiction and always enjoys seeking out new suggestions.




February 7, 2015

Book Blitz: Excerpt & Giveaway! Bricks by John Davidson

Sixteen-year old Cori Reigns learns that not all tornadoes take you to magical places. Some take your house, your school, and life as you knew it. Struggling to put the pieces of her life back together, Cori learns to rebuild what the storm destroyed by trusting family she didn't know she had and helping friends she never appreciated.


In the eerie glow from the lantern, I sat in a ball with Slim’s long arms wrapped around me. Only our synchronized breathing and the drum of my heartbeat disturbed the silence.

The pizza boy screamed as the TV flew upward. We ducked, and it slammed into the locked steel door. A roar like a jet-powered locomotive swept over us. Wind raged through a crack in the rattling door like the screech and cackle of a tempest-tossed witch, fluttering the lantern’s light. Slim caught the set as it dropped. The cord flopped at my feet, severed like it’d been bitten by a wild animal.

Mr. Hawkins mumbled. Mrs. Lassiter spoke to Jesus. The Mangino’s driver sat near me, his rocking horse motion powered by gentle sobs. I forced my hand to stop shaking long enough to reach around Slim and squeeze the boy’s hand in mine. Mrs. Lassiter always said there are no atheists in foxholes. There are no strangers either.

My heart passed the next few minutes of external silence by banging like a sledgehammer against my ribcage. Finally, Mrs. Lassiter slid past us. “Would you mind giving me a hand, young man?”

She had to be talking to Slim. The Mangino’s guy was still a sobbing mess.

“You okay?” he asked me.

I think I nodded.

At the top of the steps, the metal latch clanged. Then a grunt and a shard of light.

The sounds repeated.

“I can’t get it open,” Slim said. “It must be jammed.”

My sledgehammer heart banged louder.

“Not jammed,” Mrs. Lassiter told him. “Blocked.”

And louder.

Crazy thoughts and images raced through my mind. The tiny enclosure seemed to have suddenly shrunk by half. I couldn’t take it any longer. Being trapped in a tiny underground bunker that smelled of perspiration and pepperoni made me want to puke. I squeezed the pizza guy’s hand a final time and pushed to the top of the steps to wedge myself between Slim and Mrs. Lassiter. No one objected. It wouldn’t have mattered.

I didn’t wait for three. I threw my shoulder into the metal door, and it slowly creaked upward—six inches, a foot. With both feet on the steps and our shoulders against the door, we pressed upward to provide more leverage.

“A little more,” Mrs. Lassiter said. “There.” She extended the metal bar to hold the door open. My shoulders relaxed as the brace clicked into place. I rubbed my arm and stepped into the eerie gray light.




Married to my bride for twenty-four years, I have an amazing son and a wonderful daughter. 
Born and raised in central Oklahoma, I work in education, first as a teacher now in technology curriculum. I write. I read. And in the summer I make snow cones.