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When Darkness Falls Book Tour & Giveaway

 
Genre: 
Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Relentlessly Creative Books
Publication Date: March 16, 2016
Pages: 284
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Lexie Miles, a southern belle living her dream life in Paris, is devastated when her best friend Emma is brutally raped and murdered by vampires. From that moment Lexie’s “perfect world” begins to crumble. She discovers her entire life has been a sham and everyone she cares about has been lying to her. Angry doesn’t begin to describe her reaction to the news.

Plunged into a two-thousand year old war between good and evil, she is propelled into a world of blood, lust and dark secrets. She must embrace her birthright to fight an ancient threat to humanity. Bequeathed with the dubious gift of being the “Chosen One,” Lexie meets the enigmatic Etienne Benoit. She falls hard for him and when he betrays her, she vows to get revenge. After all, she is a vampire executioner and killing vampire is what she does.

Emma slumped against the back seat as the taxi pulled away from Lexie’s apartment. Heart still pounding, she focused on breathing deeply to quiet her nerves. She couldn’t remember ever being as unraveled as she had been when she had seen Francois and Marielle on the Champs Elysees. They had recognized Lexie and that boded trouble.

She stepped down from the taxi in front of her apartment. “Please wait for me. I won’t be long,” she said to the driver handing him twenty Euros.

He smiled, happy she was not just another cheap foreigner trying to get a free ride.

After she locked and bolted her front door behind her, she felt relieved, but she no longer knew if she was safe anywhere. She wondered if Francois and Marielle were watching or had followed her home. Her thoughts lingered on Francois. She had fallen hard and fast and now her hopes and dreams centered on him. The last time they had met alone Francois had promised her many things. To leave Marielle and be with her, heal the rift with his father and leave the dark side. She touched her lips where the memory of his last kiss lingered. She still couldn’t believe he wanted her. She knew the risks – vampires are not to be trusted – especially the dark ones. She had promised Francois she would tell no one and kept her promise. Tonight it had taken everything she had not to blurt out her secret to Lexie. She hated lying and worried Lexie was now vulnerable.

Everything the Society had worked for and stood for was in danger now that Francois and Marielle knew of the precious antiserum and its formula. When they had first approached her several weeks prior, Francois had done most of the talking. His good looks and smooth compliments had turned her head. He had compelled her and the only thing that had saved her from falling completely under his will was the human serum mixed with verveine she took daily. But it had not prevented her from falling in love with him.

Despite her strong feelings for Francois, she had managed to keep her wits. Instead of giving him what he wanted she devised an elaborate plan to conceal the authentic antiserum and formula. As she reviewed the details she felt confident the life-saving items would be safe. She was playing with fire, surviving the night was uncertain.

Tonight she was meeting Francois in the Jardin de Tuillieries to give him the fake antiserum and formula. It was a test to make sure he would be true to his word. She could only hope he loved her. He assured her he did.

She surveyed her Provence-style decor with its hues of orange, red and sunflower yellow. She loved her place with its treasures from home – the small antique carriage clock that had belonged to her grandmother, and the beautiful old steamer trunk that she used as a coffee table. They were her Dad’s loving contribution to her apartment.

The vial of clear liquid and formula caught her eye. She opened a small Printemps shopping bag, placed each item inside, and stuffed it in her purse.

Would she ever see her home again?

She shrugged off her sudden departure into sadness, and ran down the stairs freeing her hair from its customary bun. Francois preferred it loose and flowing. Besides, it made her feel sexier. She gave the taxi driver the address of a small internet café near the Jardin de Tuilleries.

<><><>

Emma sat at one of the computers going over and over her e-mail to Etienne and Tom. She gathered her courage, entered the next day’s date and pushed the send later button. She left the café, turning right toward the Tuilleries, and pulled the collar of her jacket close. The night was cold and clear. She entered the garden, and paused, listening for any strange noise before proceeding along the path. The full moon and soft white lights strung in the surrounding trees showed her the way.

“Bon nuit, cherie,” a silky male voice whispered in her ear.

Emma’s heart almost stopped. The first rush of carnal heat moved through her body. He surprised her.

“Bon nuit,” she replied, turning to face him. Francois’ handsome face was lost in shadow. His wintry blue eyes were all she could see. Delicious and dangerous. “Come into the trees,” he said taking her hand. She followed him into the underbrush glancing over her shoulder.

“Have you kept your promise?”

“I told no one, not even Lexie. and I made sure no one was following me. I would never disobey your instructions. Your trust means everything to me.”

“Do you have the package?”

“I have what you asked for.”

“That is good cherie.” He stroked her face with his hand.

She shivered at his touch and fought to keep a cool head.

“Give them to me,” he said.

“In a moment. Have you thought about your promises?”

“We can talk about that later. We are together and alone,” he said. “That’s more important.

Emma took a step back. She needed a little distance to think. “By the way, why did you and Marielle approach my friend and me tonight? It was awkward.”

“We were out for a stroll and noticed you admiring the necklace. Marielle insisted on meeting her.” Francois stroked her cheek again.

“I was afraid you wouldn’t be able to get away from her tonight.” Emma said.

“Don’t worry about her. Elle est une musaraigne.”

Emma couldn’t help but smile at his use of the word shrew.

“After five hundred years I am sick of her nagging and jealous fits.” He reached to take her in his arms.

Emma clutched her purse closer, still hesitant to give in too soon. “I’ve missed you.” The beating of heart sounded like thunder in her ears.

“But cherie it’s only been a few hours since we last met.” Once more he caressed her cheek.

Emma shivered at his touch. “It’s seems like an eternity and you were with Marielle.”

“Perhaps I have been a little too délicat with you.” His silky voice turned her insides to mush. He raised her chin and gazed into her eyes. Emma felt a pulling sensation. “Maybe you want a little walk on the wild side, n’est pas? Let me have my way with you and I will leave Marielle and come to your light side.” He grazed her cheek with his lips.

“Don’t tease me,” Emma whispered. “You know how I feel about you.”

Where to Buy

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Ellen Chauvet lives in Vancouver, British Columbia. Her love for reading and writing developed at an early age and she wrote several short stories and plays which were lost over the years. In 2003 a friend introduced her to “Buffy the Vampire Slayer”, and Ellen was fascinated by the idea of good and evil vampires. She particularly loves Anne Rice, Charlaine Harris and Laurell K. Hamilton. ‘When Darkness Falls’ if the first in a series of books called ‘The Vampire Redemption Series’ and is adult fiction.

 

 

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10 kindle copies of book;
Custom Vampire Journal with Quotes

 

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Punk Book Tour & Giveaway

 
Genre: 
Coming of Age
Publication Date: February 1, 2017
Pages: 117
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Short and entertaining, “Punk” pushes both the rules of writing and the dominant ideas and expectations of our society. Thrown into the world of punk rock in the early 1990s, this novel follows the intertwining lives of a wandering reject and the people he meets as he learns of his fathers’ unexpected death. It explores themes of social structure and religious indifference through the eyes of this disenfranchised man living from one high to the next. The story takes place over a few hot summer days in Edmonton, Alberta.

This coming-of-age story, although set in the 90’s, is still very relevant to today. It explores a quest for God without religion. Written with bursts of stream-of-consciousness and first-person narrative, “Punk” is simultaneously an urban existential fiction and a mystery novel.

CHAPTER 1

I awoke cold on the shoulder of a highway. I had no idea how I got there. As the song goes, I found my mind in a brown paper bag—only this wasn’t the sixties, and the bag was clear, not brown. My life felt like a cliché as I found myself in this shoulder—this ditch. I slowly stood up. A semi-truck whirled by sending up a dirt cloud. I choked. To complete the cliché, I held out a thumb: the one that had been broken the year before when I fell out of a bar. The cars flew by and filled the air with exhaust. I smiled beside myself. Beside my life. I smiled at all the self-destruction, the missed opportunities, the lust, and the indulgences… All the indulgences. The thought carried as the wind blew. Finding my sunglasses in the high grass, I put them on hiding my bloodshot eyes and, hopefully, the haggard sketchiness that those eyes contained. As I looked at the empty eyes of drivers

passingng me on their way to work, my sympathy was with them. What day was this? What month? What year? When did the bender start? When would it finish? Finally, a car slowed as I gazed up at the sun just showing itself.

Running to the car on the shoulder, I attempted to piece together what happened the night before. Did my run-in with the Afeller boys go amiss? Their punk rock band was becoming so big—and with it, lots of new characters were on the scene. Did I offend some white-top? Something about his mother, I’m sure. The car put on its hazards as the driver opened his window and gestured me over. I ran my hands over my patched black jeans. I guess they didn’t offend; nor did my red and blond Mohawk that I never wore up.

I opened the door and peered in. The man was fortyish. He looked like a family man in his suit and tie. I smiled, knowing I was everything he wouldn’t want his children to become. And yet he offered me a ride.

“Hey there. You from the city, or some drifter?”

“Neither. I’m not from this city, nor a drifter. I’m a man of the land with nothing but my good sense to guide me through waters deep and quick.”

“Son, I’m not some girl at the bar, I’m the man driving you back to the city. So save the bullshit. Do you want some coffee? I have a thermos. You must drink coffee?” The man smiled as he passed over a thermos and a small brown disposable cup.

“Thanks. I know you’re not a girl at the bar, so I will put away my charm—and yes, I drink coffee, but only when I smoke. And I seem to be out,” I said as I lazily checked my black leather jacket and found nothing but an empty pack.

“You’re a drifter then; smoking’s a dying pastime. A losing battle.”

“Then you don’t partake?”

“Lucky for you, son, I’m also a dying breed.” He pulled out a silver case full of long cigarettes.

“Thanks,” I said as he passed me the case.

“You have a name? A real name? I offered you my smokes and my coffee; least you can do is give me a name.” I lit the cigarette and sipped the coffee.

“A real name, eh?” I took a long drag. “Clark. Clark Kent,” I smiled at him.

“Superman, eh? Fully able to fly, but stuck in an ‘85 Toyota, smoking my cigarettes, drinking my coffee and dressed in a fashion that I take it Lois Lane picked out?”

“Yeah, she’s a great dame.” I kept trying to remember what had happened last night.

“Humph. Where in the city are you going? Or should I just shoot for the downtown homeless shelter?”

“Mid-city would be good. I just need to get to my bike. It’s in a garage I rent with the money I make saving the world and all.”

“What were you doing on the side of the road? Good old Lex Luthor leave you high and dry?”

“If you must know, he attacked me with kryptonite and took my cape. I wouldn’t need the lift if I had the cape. You should know that.”

“Good point. Have some more coffee. A bike guy, eh?”

“Harley guy. It was my father’s,” I replied.

“A gift for your law school graduation?”

“Stolen.”

I could see the city approaching, the skyscrapers visible with an early morning summer haze around them.

“And what do you do for work there, Clark?”

“Me? The usual philanthropy, human projects, building churches, and feeding the poor.”

“Ah, a fine job for Superman.”

“Fine job for any man. You wouldn’t happen to have anything… I could put in this coffee?” I asked.

“I’m a family man myself—but like I said, a dying breed. Look inside the glove compartment.”

I opened it, and inside was a small bottle of bourbon. This was a man after my own heart. I poured a healthy amount into my mug.

“And for you?”

“No thanks; not before lunch.” As he shoulder-checked, I slipped the bottle into my inside jacket pocket.

“Let me guess,” I said. “You were a ‘60s hippy into the drug scene who got some flower child knocked up and started looking at things seriously. Your college degree wouldn’t get you far, so you got into sales. You don’t work in the office, hence the road drinks and the engraved cigarette holder: a gift for being with the company maybe fifteen years. You have children in their teens and you wish for nothing more than for them to go to college, get good jobs, and become nothing like you used to be—and definitely nothing like me.”

He laughed. “The world is a cruel place and not for the faint. Don’t doubt that you’re heading down a bad path: one where your super powers won’t be enough to save you. One day you’ll need redemption, but no one will show you any mercy. You’ll cry out, and no one will answer.” He stared at me, no longer watching the road. I looked back at him.

“Let me tell you something, man. I’ve cried out already. I’ve cried to the world, and you know what the world said back? It said no, just like you’re saying it would. But you know why that makes me better than a day driver—a day salesman whose life lost its lustre over the years?” I pulled the bottle out of my jacket and took a long swig, looking at him as I did. “The world has also cried out to me. And I was the one saying no, just the same. I fight the good fight and walk down the road walked by so many others, but I will never falter. I will never cave. I will seek out a life all want, but none have the courage to live.”

“Keep the bottle, then, and let your destruction swallow you whole. And if you come out alive, the tie and jacket will welcome you on the other side—and there will be someone like me, bailing you out.”

We drove into the city.

“Drop me off by Manulife Place.” I was feeling the kind of clarity the drink will give, as I put my hangover aside. “Alright.” He slowed. The sun was just barely up; it must have been about 6 in the morning when we reached the mall’s entrance. I opened the door.

“I never got your name, oh wise one,” I said as I stepped onto the sidewalk.

“Why do you care? You’ll forget me as soon as you light another smoke.” He handed me another one. “The name is… Ivan. Ivan the terrible.”

“Ha. Good day, sir. Watch out for that looming mid-life crisis,” I said as I closed the door.

Where to Buy

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Lex J. Grootelaar
I started writing at a very young age but soon was more consumed with women, drinking and smoking. It was only when I realized that vice doesn’t lead to virtue that I left childish things behind me and found myself back into the realm of writing, work, and love. It was in that aspect that the words started to flow. I have spent the past few years at study, spending my summers at work fueling aircraft for Alberta forestry, when I can break away I travel with my lovely and brilliant spouse.

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Grayson Book Tour & Giveaway

 
Genre: 
Adult MC Romance
Publication Date: May 25, 2017
Pages: 104
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About the Book

She’s a wildcat in bed and she’s driving me insane!
Ever since that first night I can’t get enough of Rahyne Andrews.
Her kisses, her body, her moans, drive me crazy. I can’t seem to say no to her.
My only problem is, that she doesn’t seem to be interested in more than my body.
And I’m not about to have my control taken away from me.
She either bends to my will, or I’m walking.

Grayson Carter is everything I ever dreamed of and more.
He’s built like a rock and knows how to satisfy my every need.
But the last thing I want is to have another failed relationship.
Especially, when it involves a member of the Hell’s Lovers.
I’m the one in control, I’m always in control…
So why is it that Grayson Carter is the only man who has ever made me beg for more.

Excerpt

It was late when I entered my apartment. I sank down on the couch and stared out into the city. I lived in a high rise in downtown L.A., it offered a good view and it was near the club, I also owned the building. I had a few investments, mostly in stocks, so I did well for myself. I didn’t really have any family or anyone I truly cared about, except for Wolf and most recently, Scarlett. I used to do security for the military, and after retiring, Wolf gave me a place to stay and opened his doors for me. I was glad to have someone like Wolf. He’d been a good friend throughout the years. When he took over as President, he immediately named me VP, and it’s been that way for the last five years. The brotherhood was my refuge and although we didn’t voice it, we were a pretty tight knit family.

I stood up and went to grab a beer. I headed down the hall to my bedroom, where an empty bed awaited me. Usually it didn’t bother me, but lately I’d been yearning for a warm body to press up against. Specifically, a voluptuous blonde, with eyes the color of emeralds. My cock stirred and I sighed as I took a swig of my beer and sat at the edge of the bed.

Images of Rahyne spread out on my mattress kept flooding through my mind and they had been non-stop lately. It didn’t matter where I was or who I was with, I couldn’t get the temptress out of my head. It was starting to worry me.

I never even thought of settling down. I lived my life peacefully, went where I wanted, fucked who I wanted, and didn’t give a shit about anything. But with Rahyne…fuck, I thought my urgency to have her was just an infatuation-something that would go away in a matter of weeks. Six months later, and my body still craved hers, more now than ever before. Running my hands through my hair I fought my desire to go looking for her and I gulped down my beer.

Lying back on the bed I let her image envelop me and I pulled out my shaft-hard as a rock as usual-and stroked myself, remembering the sound of her sweet whispers, and the moans and whimpers I heard on an almost daily basis. I groaned, imagining the wonderful feeling of her tight pussy hugging my swollen member. Remembering the way she shouted my name, and how her body gripped me, made me jerk off harder. Knowing I could manipulate her body to such extremes had me grunting my release as streams of white fluid leapt out and landed on my stomach. I breathed out and splayed my arms on the mattress. Closing my eyes, I imagined her by my side, and the only thought that came to my mind, before I drifted off, was that I was going to make her mine.

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Amazon

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About the Author


My name is Crimson Syn, not really, but what fun is it to use my real name. Instead I’ll use my inner goddess’ name, it’s much more fun that way. I grew up in New York City where I had a wonderful education, loving parents and awesome friends. What more could a girl ask for?

I started writing at the age of sixteen. The first romance I read was Stephanie Laurens’ Devil’s Bride. Since then I have been influenced by dozens of flourishing romance authors and even more dashing and daring rogues. I must say it, but Fifty Shades was not my first erotic romance, nor did it influence me to start writing them. If you’ve never read Mary Balogh, Elizabeth Hoyt, Lisa Kleypas, Bertrice Small or A.N. Roquelaure’s Sleeping Beauty trilogy, then you’re missing out. Those were my sweet introductions to erotic romance, and boy were they hot.

So here I am, after reading so many wonderful stories, I have too many sinful tales of my own not to share. I like my alphas rough and possessive, and I have no shame in saying it or writing it. I had delightfully wicked teachers growing up, their books took me to new worlds and brought me new loves. So, I want to do the same for you. I want to indulge my readers in those steamy reads that will send them into the arms of dangerous alphas and deliciously sexy rogues, without leaving the confines of their nice warm bed. If I am able to entice your inner goddesses, then I have done my job and I am satisfied.

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$10 Amazon GC & 5 free copies of WOLF gifted

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Sexy Living Book Tour & Giveaway


Genre: Contemporary Romance
Publisher: Kensington
Publication Date: May 23, 2017
Pages: 320
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Regina Cole tells a surprising—and sizzling—story about a successful young woman who learns that size is just a number, happiness is hot, and sexy is a way of life…

In her nine-to-five life, Stacey Hough is a confident young woman whose career is going from strength to strength. But a trip to Hawaii for her cousin’s wedding lays bare her deepest insecurities, and she books the first flight home to Atlanta to avoid exposing her curves on the beach. Tired of being unhappy, she decides to take action and heads to the gym. But her personal trainer’s seductive smile and ridiculous muscles make it hard to focus on lifts and lunges…

Robert Liston lives to help people achieve their goals. When Stacey walks into his gym, he sees a voluptuous woman who doesn’t know how beautiful she really is, and he’s determined to help her learn to accept herself. As soon as she starts warming up on the treadmill, things start warming up between them, and it’s only a matter of time before Rob is putting Stacey through her paces at the gym—and in the bedroom. As the line between work and pleasure blurs, Rob must convince her that sexy has nothing to do with the scale—and that her imperfections inspire the greatest passion of all…

Before she’d left home, the thought of a November vacation in Hawaii had made Stacey Hough giddy. But now that it was actually happening, all she could think about were the drops of sweat wending their way down her spine as her sandals made flapping noises against the concrete walkway.

“Just a few more feet until air-conditioning,” she said to herself, eyeing the resort’s beautiful, air-conditioned tower of hotel rooms that would give her sanctuary. This was less than ideal. Her cousin would pick the hottest November on record to have her destination wedding.

Stacey upped her pace, trying to ignore the beads of moisture tickling her upper lip. That wasn’t exactly fair. Sabrina couldn’t have known how hot it would be. Besides, it wasn’t the bride’s fault that her maid of honor was sweating like a teenage boy who’d gotten caught watching Internet porn. That was all Stacey’s doing.

“I’ll go to the beach,” she’d said to herself after lunch with the bride. It had been years since she’d been on a real vacation, and she had intended to enjoy it. Of course, she couldn’t actually find the guts to put on the new swimsuit she’d bought for the trip. The imaginary confidence she’d been leaning on up until this point went poof in the harsh light of the tropical paradise. No way could she go out in any kind of swimwear. There were way too many witnesses. The trade-off was a nice walk. But what should have been a relaxing hour-long stroll along a beautiful coastline had turned into a hot, sandy trek across what might as well have been the Sahara, and had turned Stacey’s joy at the vacation into a chore. It sucked, but the temporary discomfort would be over soon.

The artificially cooled air caressed Stacey’s cheeks, and she gave a heavy sigh of relief as the glass hotel doors swung shut behind her. Finally. Punching the button for the elevator, she glanced upward.

Crap. Her strawberry-blond hair was frizzing around her fore- head. Turning, she looked in the mirror that was mounted on the opposite wall and promptly blanched.

Good Lord, she looked like a nightmare. Red, sweaty, and frightening. If she ran into any small children on the way to her room, they’d probably need therapy for years to come.

This was why she stayed home. Work was safe. Work, she could throw herself into with abandon and not come out looking like a cartoon villain. Oh well. She had planned to shower before tonight’s bachelorette party anyway. There were a couple of hours left for her to make herself look presentable.

The elevator doors glided open, and Stacey’s stomach plummeted through the floor. Shit.

“Good Lord, Stacey, what happened to you? You look terrible!” Aunt Beatrice wasted no time in pointing out the obvious as she exited the elevator.

“I went for a run. I’m training for the Iron Man,” Stacey joked drily as she passed her aunt.

Completely missing the sarcasm, Aunt Beatrice lit up with a smile. “Good! That is fabulous. You do need to exercise, but perhaps next time you should dress a bit differently? You aren’t wearing the right attire, and there are sweat stains on—”

The doors shut then, and Stacey slumped against the back wall of the elevator.

Getting angry was exhausting and pointless. Aunt Beatrice had been dropping comments about her weight and other shortcomings since Stacey was in preschool. Her family had won the genetic lottery, and Stacey was the only exception. Not that she was ugly. She’d gotten the reddish-blond hair and blue eyes, sure, but the height and good metabolism had definitely skipped her. At least her own parents were vacationing in Europe, and unable to join in the fun of pointing out her faults. Fortunately, Bree was nothing like her mother in atti- tude. Bree was Stacey’s favorite relative, and one of her closest friends. There wasn’t much Stacey wouldn’t endure for her, and that included record-high temperatures and snooty Aunt Beatrice.

When she finally arrived on her floor, Stacey dragged an arm across her cheeks and walked determinedly to her room. Tonight would be just what she needed. Bree always did wonders for Stacey’s mood, and the other bridesmaid, Eliza, seemed really nice. They’d go out for pedicures, a fancy dinner, and then a night out dancing and cutting loose.

Stacey forced a smile. It would be a blast. Just the thing to help her shake off these blues.

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 Regina Cole, lover of manly muscled arms, chest hair, and mini-marshmallows, has been reading romance since her early teens. While she loves a love story of any heat level, she’s been drawn to the erotic side, and is enjoying every minute of writing it. When she’s not frantically pounding away at the keyboard, she can be found fishing with her family, playing with her dogs, trying out strange new recipes, or snuggling with her hubby. Readers can find out more about Regina (like she also writes mainstream romance as Gina Lamm) at reginacole.net.

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It Could Happen Blog Tour

 
Genre: 
New Adult, Romance (LGBT)
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Publication Date: June 5, 2017
Pages: 200
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About the Book

Three misfits, mismatched in every way—Henry Perkins, Brody Decker, and Danny Denisco—have been friends throughout high school. Now in their senior year, the boys realize their relationship is changing, that they’re falling in love. But they face opposition at every turn—from outside and from within themselves. Moving to the next level will take all the courage, understanding, and commitment they can muster. But it could happen.

Henry is a star athlete and the son of religious parents who have little concern for the future he wants. Brody is a quirky dreamer and adrenaline junkie, and Danny is an emo artist and the target of bullies. Despite their differences they’ve always had each other’s backs, and with each of them facing a new and unique set of challenges, that support is more important than ever. Is it worth risking the friendship they all depend on for the physical and romantic relationship they all desire?

In this unconventional new adult romance, three gay teens brave societal backlash—as well as the chance that they might lose their treasured friendship—to embark on a committed polyamorous relationship.

Excerpt

Brody’s notebook

Tuesday, September 23

Memoir of a Stalker—I sincerely hope this is only a temporary title.

I’m not exactly a stalker, but when it comes to Danny and Henry, sometimes I play the part of one.

And the situation with Danny is seriously messed up. I keep telling Henry that it will sort itself out. I hope I’m not lying to him.

Before I picked up Henry for school today, I drove by Danny’s apartment building three times. Or maybe it was five times. I lost count.

Extremely stalkeresque.

I stared at the building each time I drove by, but there was nothing out of the ordinary—one beige cement building, nine nondescript windows with torn screens, five crumbling brick steps leading to a cracked plate glass door, zero landscaping. The place is almost invisible in its plainness. The only thing that draws any attention to the residence is the number of beat-up SUVs, ancient boats on trailers, and motorcycles that have seen better days that surround it. The property looks like a used-vehicle auction lot.

The first three times I passed by, I saw a couple of wrinkled old men with bloated bellies smoking cigarettes on the front walkway. I also noticed about five skinny cats skulking around the property. But no Danny. I was tempted to park behind the row of overgrown shrubs on the corner and wait as long as it took to see if he emerged alone or arm-in-arm with Jared, the jealous fry cook.

But I didn’t stop. I passed by unnoticed… unless Danny happened to glance out the window. Lime-green Jeep Wranglers are hardly stealthy.

There’s no valid reason for me to be snooping on him. Danny Denisco is not my boyfriend. He’s not my best friend’s boyfriend. We’re straight. He’s gay. The whole romance thing is not possible.

Danny’s not a mystery I need to solve. He’s just a guy from the bad part of town who happens to enjoy the darker side of life. He has an extraordinary gift for painting fluorescent sunsets on black velvet without making them look redneck tacky. His poetry could even bring tears to Lionel Wagner’s eyes.

Danny has a fashion sense that, on a good day, could be called peculiar. Most of the time, Danny comes to school looking like a boy witch. He has multiple piercings in his ears, nose, bottom lip, right eyebrow, and probably other places I don’t want to know about. Add to that an emo haircut, complete with sideswept bangs and neon-blue tips, and way too much black eyeliner.

That’s Danny.
Like I said, no mystery.
Danny defines “gay, emo, Goth boy.”
He looks radical, but he just wants what everybody else wants out of life.

And Danny is not my boyfriend. I don’t know how I feel about that.

Where to Buy

Amazon

About the Author


Mia Kerick is the mother of four exceptional children—all named after saints—and five nonpedigreed cats—all named after the next best thing to saints, Boston Red Sox players. Her husband of twenty years has been told by many that he has the patience of Job, but don’t ask Mia about that, as it is a sensitive subject.

Mia focuses her stories on the emotional growth of troubled men and their relationships, and she believes that sex has a place in a love story, but not until it is firmly established as a love story. As a teen, Mia filled spiral-bound notebooks with romantic tales of tortured heroes (most of whom happened to strongly resemble lead vocalists of 1980s big-hair bands) and stuffed them under her mattress for safekeeping. She is thankful to Dreamspinner Press for providing her with an alternate place to stash her stories.

Mia is proud of her involvement with the Human Rights Campaign and cheers for each and every victory made in the name of marital equality. Her only major regret: never having taken typing or computer class in school, destining her to a life consumed with two-fingered pecking and constant prayer to the Gods of Technology.

Contact Mia at miakerick@gmail.com.

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Heartborn Audiobook Blog Tour

Genre: Fantasy
Narrator: Julia Whelan
Length: 6 hours, 20 minutes
Publisher: Terry Maggert
Publication Date: October 3, 2016
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About the Book

Her guardian angel was pushed.
Keiron was never meant to be anything other than a hero. Born high above in a place of war and deception, he is Heartborn, a being of purity and goodness in a place where violence and deceit are just around every corner.
His disappearance will spark a war he cannot see, for Keiron has pierced the light of days to save a girl he has never met, for reasons he cannot understand. Livvy Foster is seventeen, brave, and broken. With half a heart, she bears the scars of a lifetime of pain and little hope of survival.
Until Keiron arrives.
In the middle of a brewing war and Livvy’s failing heart, Keiron will risk everything for Livvy, because a Heartborn’s life can only end in one way: Sacrifice.
Fall with Livvy and Keiron as they seek the truth about her heart, and his power, and what it means to love someone who will give their very life to save you.

Where to Buy

Audible

About the Author

 Terry Maggert
Born in 1968, I discovered fishing shortly after walking, a boon, considering I lived in South Florida. After a brief move to Kentucky, my family trekked back to the Sunshine State. I had the good fortune to attend high school in idyllic upstate New York, where I learned about a mythical substance known as “Seasons”. After two or three failed attempts at college, I bought a bar. That was fun because I love beer, but, then, I eventually met someone smarter than me (a common event), and, in this case, she married me and convinced me to go back to school–which I did, with enthusiasm. I earned a Master’s Degree in History and rediscovered my love for writing. My novels explore dark fantasy, immortality, and the nature of love as we know it. I live near Nashville, Tennessee, with the aforementioned wife, son, and herd, and, when I’m not writing, I teach history, grow wildly enthusiastic tomato plants, and restore my 1967 Mustang.

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About the Narrator


Julia Whelan is an actor, writer, and audiobook narrator. She is perhaps most well known for her acting work on ABC’s Once and Again and her award-winning narration of over 200 audiobooks (including Gillian Flynn’s Gone Girl). Her debut novel is forthcoming.

After a healthy career as a child actor, Whelan attended Middlebury College and Oxford University, graduating with a degree in English and Creative Writing.

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Why Did it Have to be You? Book Tour & Giveaway

 
Genre: 
Contemporary Romance
Publisher: Lyrical Shine
Publication Date: May 9, 2016
Pages: 239
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Disorder In The Court . . .

Connie Wilkerson has worked her butt off to go from heartbroken paralegal with a drinking problem to becoming Pineville, Michigan’s fiercest new lawyer. But she’s still short on luck. Exhibit A: her very first case is against bad-boy contractor David Carelli.

Carelli has been a thorn in Connie’s side since high school, getting away with whatever he dreams up. He’s blond, handsome, and he dresses like a model. But everyone in town knows he cuts corners. Just the way he looks at her really gets Connie’s goat. She’s going to get him into chambers and settle the smug right out of him.

There’s just one problem. Exhibit B: Their supposedly hostile negotiations are turning hot instead. Now the jury is out on whether a second chance is recommended . . .

She knew he was trouble the moment he crossed her path. Big caramel eyes. Shaggy dark hair. An attitude as big as Lake Michigan. Head lowered, legs wide, he stood in the middle of the road like he owned it.

The brakes of her Jeep squealed as she rolled to a stop and put the vehicle in park. She met his suspicious glare with one of her own.

Connie Wilkerson peered down her narrow drive. It was about an eighth of a mile from her home to the main road along the bumpy dirt road, and no one else was in sight. What the hell was he doing here? And how had he gotten onto her driveway? Those were mysteries she didn’t have time to deal with. She had twenty minutes to make it to the courthouse for her first ever case as an attorney, and she couldn’t be late. Big and hairy didn’t look like he planned on moving out of her way anytime soon. Connie eyed the tuft of coarse brown hair jutting from his chin, and then the rows of rough-cut stones forming close walls around this stretch of driveway. Her fifteen-year-old Jeep had taken her over some rough terrain before, but attempting to roll over a two-foot rock wall would be foolhardy.

Leaning on her horn, she made shooing motions at him through the windshield. He dipped his head lower. Connie dug her nails into the steering wheel, her breaths coming short and fast. The clock on her dashboard told her she had eighteen minutes until court would be in session. She wiped away the dust covering the plastic clock face to confirm it. Yup, she was going to be late. Why did this crap always happen to her? She honked again, but the obstacle stood firm. She had to face the beast. Connie opened the door and lowered her sensible navy pumps to the ground, her two-inch heels sinking into the dirt. She reached into the backseat for the old steering wheel lock she never seemed to get around to throwing out, and held the metal bar in front of herself like a cattle prod.

“Move along.” She shook the club at him and took a small step forward. “Time to go on home.”

The goat cocked its head.

Connie narrowed her eyes. Sure, the mongrel might not understand her words, but any animal could understand from her waving a bar around that she wanted it to move. He didn’t have to look at her like she was crazy. Choking up on the club like a baseball bat, she swung it back and forth in the air. Unfazed, the goat snorted and pawed the ground. He must have escaped from a local farm, but she didn’t know of any that kept goats. Where the hell did he belong? She didn’t know that either, except it wasn’t on her driveway—or anywhere on her forested lot, for that matter.

“Well, you don’t have to go home, but you can’t stay here.” And now she was giving the stupid animal the bartender talk.

The goat reacted to it about as well as she had in her heyday. He blew her a big raspberry, a string of drool dripping into his chin hair.

Connie’s foot paused inches above the ground. She looked down at her double-breasted silk skirt suit, the one that she’d spent her first paycheck as an attorney on, and back at the slobbering beast. She took a step away. Retreating to her Jeep seemed like a much better idea. Maybe if she nudged him with her bumper he’d scamper off? And really, if he decided not to move and worse came to worst, would anyone miss the scruffy animal? Goats went missing every day. Her butt bumped the hood, and the animal chose that moment to charge. Throwing her torso on the Jeep, she reached for the seam where the hood met the windshield to pull herself up. The metal bar in her hand slammed into the windshield. A crack splintered along the glass, and her jaw dropped with each inch. She had barely a second to process the damage when something tugged sharply at the back of her skirt. Connie craned her neck and shrieked in outrage when she caught sight of the navy silk caught firmly between the goat’s teeth. He smiled around his mouthful.

“No!” She kicked out, and the animal danced sideways, avoiding her foot while maintaining his grip. He backed up.

“Oh shit.” Abandoning the club, she gripped the waistband of the skirt being pulled down her hips. “Let me go!”

He lowered his head and took another step back. Something had to give: either her skirt or her position on the Jeep. Connie slid off the hood and landed in a heap on the dirt. She pulled a dark lock of hair away from her mouth and looked up at one pissy goat. The animal blew a foul smelling breath across her face, and nausea coiled in her stomach.

“I didn’t mean it about running you over. I swear.”

He jutted his chin, appearing unconvinced.

Where to Buy

Amazon | iBook | Barnes & Noble | Google Play | Kobo


Allyson Charles lives in Northern California. She’s the author of the “Pineville Romance” series, small-town, contemporary romances published by Lyrical Press. A former attorney, she happily ditched those suits and now works in her pajamas writing about men’s briefs instead of legal briefs. When she’s not writing, she’s probably engaged in one of her favorite hobbies: napping, eating, or martial arts (That last one almost makes up for the first two, right?). One of Allyson’s greatest disappointments is living in a state that doesn’t have any Cracker Barrels in it.

Connect with Allyson

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Hunter Book Blitz


Genre:  Paranormal Romance
Publisher: Fallen Sorcery
Publication Date: June 13, 2017
Pages: 230
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About the Book

Duty was all that mattered. Until he met her.

Thora has known only life on one side of the fence, sheltered in a village of half-breeds, free of the magic the witches and Fae crave. Yet, past the fence, the woods tempt her to discover what lies beyond the village. Nothing prepared her for what she’d find on the other side.

As a descendant to the Fae Queen Tatiana, Garrett has devoted his life to protecting the breeds. When he finds Thora in the woods, he promises her a new life in the Council run Sanctuary, safe from those who would abuse her.

But the Sanctuary holds dark secrets, and the haven Garrett promised is far more dangerous than the woods. As they work to unravel the deception of the Council, passion and duty collide, threatening the very lives Garrett swore to protect.

Garrett knew sacrifices would need to be made, he just never realized it could be the woman he’s claimed as his.

Excerpt

She thought going to the Sanctuary was what she wanted, what would make her happy, but in the woods she had Garrett. Once she left…she didn’t know what was out there for her.

The trees rustled, their leaves tickling the sides of the shield. Were they closing in? Did they know how badly she just wanted to stay here?

The touch of Garrett’s fingers against her arm caused her to jump, and she turned to him. He knew. His hand slid into the hair at her nape, cupping her head, and he lowered his eyes until they were level with hers. The intensity burning in them caused a delicious shiver to run through her.

“We need to do this, Thora,” he said, his voice low and calm. “The woods wait for no one.”

She didn’t think she could explain this to him. He was all she knew. All she had left. Would he even understand the fear that coursed through her at the thought of him leaving her?

“I don’t -”

The sudden press of his lips ended her hesitant words. He consumed her senses, and every thought she had evaporated as her eyes drifted shut and she pressed into him. His tongue slipped into her mouth and caressed hers, teasing her with the taste of him.

He pulled back, and she groaned in frustration as yet again she was left wanting more of him. Desire had been such a remote concept for her. She’d seen it shared between the couples in the village, even between her parents, but she’d never experienced passion until Garrett. Now that she had, she was reluctant to dismiss it so easily.

He untangled his hand from her hair and then locked his fingers with hers. Her eyes fluttered open, and she stared up at him.

“We go now,” he said and pulled her along with him through the barrier.

Still reeling from his kiss, Thora followed him. The trees had shifted since she woke. Tightening ever so slightly, like her hesitation to leave had stirred them again. An unsettled feeling of suspicion dispelled the excitement Garrett’s kiss roused in her.

“Garrett? Why did you kiss me?”

He didn’t answer, just wove her through the trees and bushes toward the edge. They were only a few yards away, yet each step they took brought them no closer. Finally, Garrett stopped, and she rammed into his back. He twisted around to look down at her, and she gave him a nervous smile.

“I kissed you because I wanted to. Because I don’t want you to worry about the future. I won’t let anything happen to you, Thora.” He stroked his thumb in soothing circles along the back of her hand. “There is no place safer for you than the Sanctuary.”

“Promise?”

The corners of his lips tipped up. “I promise.”

Where to Buy

Amazon US | Amazon CAN | Amazon AUS | Amazon UK

About the Author


Angela Fristoe grew up in Alberta, Canada. She dreamed of becoming the next Dian Fossey or Jane Goodall until she realized she wasn’t all that keen on the outdoors or animals. Instead, she went into education and focused on helping struggling readers. Angela lives on Vancouver Island with her family, where she is pursuing her writing career while continuing her work in the education field.

 

 

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To celebrate the release of Hunter, Angela is giving away a $20 Amazon gift card. For your chance to win, simply enter via the Rafflecopter below. The contest closes at midnight EST on June 24, 2017, and is open to entrants worldwide.

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Mental Damnation: Reality Book Tour & Giveaway


Genre:  Epic Dark Fantasy
Publisher: Reveal Books
Publication Date: July 17, 2012
Pages: 384
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Having her family murdered by the humans during her people’s banishment from the surface world, Krista and her only friend, Darkwing, struggle to remain alive. The pair of reptilian street scum live in their newfound home, the City of Renasence, dictated by a fascist military known as the Renasence Guard. The two find themselves at odds when Krista puts her faith in the Five Guardians’ goal of unification, while Darkwing chooses to stand with a notorious gang, the Blood Hounds, who are known for their anarchist views
This divide in their friendship forces Krista to persist on her own as the Five Guardians become crazed from an unknown disease – Mental Damnation. After their infection, the Guardians develop a bizarre interest in her, claiming they must reap her innocence for their newfound master, the Weaver.
With a military dictatorship, politically-driven gangs and their guardians infected and on a hunt for her, Krista has limited options for survival: Does she fend for her life in the City of Renascence, against menacing forces, or risk leaving everything behind and enter the uncharted realm of the underworld?

Where to Buy

Amazon

The strange male and Krista paused simultaneously, listening to the noise. Once the roar faded, the Corrupt continued to squirm. Krista suddenly realized that he was trying to crawl off of her, but his hands and feet had been cut off. Blood oozed from his limbs and smeared onto Krista. The Corrupt was essentially defenseless, so she calmed down – a little bit – and tried to work with him to get him off her.

Krista managed to roll the Corrupt to the side and he attempted to scurry away, but without hands and feet, he stumbled back to the ground whining, moving like a newborn calf.

A second male leaped from the higher rocks and landed with a heavy thud, raising dust. He threw a spear at the bleeding Corrupt. The weapon soared into the air, piercing through his victim’s skull and pinning the Corrupt to the ground.

Krista looked at the newcomer, mesmerized by his physical appearance. Muscles bulged on his shirtless torso. His skin was peach-toned, something Krista had never seen before.

What is he? she wondered, eyeing the male from his feet to his head.

The male’s five-toed feet were clad in sandals, with leather wrapped around his ankles. He wore a green kilt and several sheathed weapons strapped to his bare chest, which was marred by numerous jagged scars. His right hand had a cloth wrapped around it, and a ring flashed on his left.

He had a tail similar to Krista’s but with no scales. His brown scalp-feathers were plucked on the sides, leaving the remaining long feathers tied into a ponytail running down to his shoulder blades. Like hers, his eyes glowed, but they were bright white, not nearly as vibrant, and had green irises.

The male’s light skin and unusually flat facial structure called up flashbacks to the human raiders of Krista’s childhood.

He’s like a cross of humans and my people. I’ve never seen anything like it before!

The male walked over to the dead Corrupt and pulled his spear free from the body, then kicked it over the rocky edge. He kept his gaze on the rocks, watching the corpse fall into the fog.

Krista could hear the body tumble down the mountain, until the sound faded. Now that his back was facing her, she could see his spine was covered in light grey scales that came up to his neck. Krista was frightened by the peach-skinned male and kept motionless. She was uncertain whether he was a friend or a foe, or what she should do.

He’s going to notice me eventually. She waved nervously. “Hi.”


Konn Lavery is a Canadian horror and dark fantasy writer who is known for his Mental Damnation series. The second book, Dream, reached the Edmonton Journal’s top five selling fictional books list. He started writing fantasy stories at a very young age while being home schooled. It wasn’t until graduating college that he began professionally pursuing his work with his first release, Reality. Since then he has continued to write works of fiction ranging from fantasy to horror.

His literary work is done in the long hours of the night. By day, Konn runs his own graphic design and website development business under the title Reveal Design. These skills have been transcribed into the formatting and artwork found within his publications supporting his fascination of transmedia storytelling.

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The Professor and The Bird Book Tour

 
Genre: 
Romance
Publisher: Olympia Publishers
Publication Date: September 29, 2016
Pages: 143
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About the Book

Professor Angelopoulos is a mature, experienced, and renowned archaeologist. Whilst working in the sweltering heat of the Kanesh desert, Turkey, he meets the true love of his life, Sally. Sally, a young Irish girl, arrives at the archaeological camp after being injured in a motorcycle accident. Whilst Sally is at the camp she uncovers one of the most important archaeological find in history, a simple piece of clay with the oldest inscription in an Indo-European language upon it. Together, with the Professor and other camp members they must project this rare item of national heritage from a millionaire collector, and ensure it arrives safely at the Archaeological Museum, where it must be displayed for everyone to see.

Where to Buy

Amazon

Fun Facts
  • Turks love Westerns and other old Hollywood movies; they start acting as if they were in a Western during the robbery attempt, and they discuss Gary Cooper and Steve McQueen…
  • Nikos’ assistants Katerina and Giorgos develop their feelings for each other as well; in their case, the age difference is the other way round: Katerina is 14 years older than Giorgos!
  • Nikos and Sally are both football fans: Nikos supports AEK Athens, and Sally supports Celtic.
About the Author

I was born in Germany, studied English Literature and History at LMU Munich (got an MA degree, too), and in 1998 I came to Greece where in 2000 I gave birth to my daughter. I’ve worked as a journalist, as social hostess on a cruise ship, as an insurance agent, teacher of foreign languages and translator.
In 2016, my first novel was published: “The Professor and the Bird”, an adventure-romance. Now I’m trying to make a name for myself while writing on my next book!

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