Friday, August 31, 2012

Book Tour: Guest Blog by Lenore Wolfe

ToTameaWildHawkTour

Today the Sizzling PR Tour stops here at All the days of and I am delighted to have a guest blog by Lenore.  Later on in the post you will also find details of To Tame a Wild Hawk, so don’t forget to read till the end :)

Love and gunfighters. The vision of the old Wild West. Americans love the romance of the great Wild West. I began reading historical romance at a young age. I loved history. I loved imagining what old houses, old furniture, old items would tell me--if only they could tell me their story. My father was an old mountain man who grew up around the old-time cowboys of Montana. These were old cowboys who were alive during a time, and witnessed, when cars and and barbed wire fences took over. I also grew up listening to the stories my great-grandmother used to tell. Montana was still wild when my father was a child--and still had family feuds when I was a child. So I grew up with these old stories, the reality of the old Wild West--but also the romance. I love the complexities and heart-breaking nuances of what was real about it. But I also love the romance of it.

Come take a journey with Hawk into the Wild West with my first novel, Dark Warrior: To Tame a Wild Hawk. Meet a six year old boy who witnesses his father and renegade friends kill every single one of their friends on the wagon train with whom they were traveling west. Follow the boy on a journey, set in motion that day, as he meets his destiny when a Cheyenne warrior finds him and adopts him into their clan. And get a glimpse of that destiny through the warrior's eyes, when he witnesses the way the boy looks out across the prairie grasslands at his dead friends littering the ground whose sightless eyes stare up into the deep blue sky, and knows--the boy would not rest--until his friends no longer cried out to him in his sleep.

That was the day Hawk was born--and a boy learns the meaning of an anger that burns deep within--in a place that knows no rest.

Then follow Hawk on his journey as it takes him to the wild and untamed town of Cheyenne, Wyoming where he meets Mandy--and he learns how she has been fighting a battle of her own with a cattle baron who has murdered her father. But when Hawk gets shot, and she becomes his nurse, the two of them learn what they share in common--and what secret they share--that will tear them apart.

You can read your free exercpt at: http://totameawildhawk.blogspot.com

Buy Dark Warrior: To Tame a wild Hawk:
Amazon:  http://amzn.to/ORLJg3
Smashwords:  http://bit.ly/ORMQwl

To Tame a Wild Hawk

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Amanda Kane has always had visions of the man she's destined to marry—a cowboy who will help her save her ranch. But Hawk is no ordinary cowboy. He carries a powerful secret. A secret that leads to betrayal. She spent years with a secret society of Lakota women, who taught her the ancient ways. Now, she must seek the Grandmothers, from beyond the veil, if they are stop a man behind a mask.

Amanda Kane has spent years with a secret society of Lakota women, who taught her the ancient ways. She has sought the help of the Grandmothers, from beyond the veil, to help her stop the man behind the mask. They point her to the visions she has always had of the man she’s destined to marry—a cowboy who will help save her ranch. But Hawk is no ordinary cowboy. He carries a powerful secret. A secret that leads to betrayal.

About the Author:

Lenore writes dark fantasy, paranormal romance, fantasy, historical romance. She grew up in Montana and Alaska, and currently lives in the central US. She holds a BA in Sociology from the University of Northern Colorado, with a minor in writing and is a student of the Shaman path.

Website / Blog

Sunday, August 26, 2012

Free on Amazon today and tomorrow


Just a note that this book is available free on Amazon today and tomorrow. 

PLEASE CHECK THE PRICE BEFORE YOU CLICK.

Blurb: The last thing zaftig middle-aged journalist, Rhoda Ginsburg, expected when she signed up for JDate was to fall in love with a vampire. But when she meets drop-dead gorgeous Sheldon, a Hasidic vampire, she falls hard. She rationalizes that he may not be alive, but at least he’s Jewish.
She learns that back in the nineteenth century Sheldon was a rabbi who was turned into a vampire by Count Dracula, an anti-Semite who got his kicks from turning Orthodox Jews into vampires because then they’d have to drink blood, which isn’t kosher.
Soon after she meets Sheldon, she discovers her beloved mother, Fanny, is terminally ill, so she comes up with the crackpot idea of getting Sheldon to turn Fanny and her friends, known as “the goils,” into vampires. Once she becomes a vampire, Fanny tires of her boring life in Century Village, Florida, and, seeking thrills, she goes clubbing and disappears into the nightlife of South Beach in Miami. When Fanny and her goil posse “go rogue” and start preying on the young, Rhoda and Sheldon must track them down to keep them from killing again.
Interview with a Jewish Vampire turns vampire lore on its head, proving that not all vampires are young and beautiful and it IS possible to be undead and kosher.

Saturday, August 25, 2012

My Spotlight: Sleepwalkers by J. Gabriel Gates

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The Sleepwalkers

A chilling and masterfully crafted teen horror novel guaranteed to keep the pages turning, the mind reeling, and the lamp on any reader's bedside table on long after midnight.
Privileged and popular Caleb Mason is celebrating his high school graduation when he receives a mysterious, disturbing letter from his long-lost childhood playmate, Christine. Caleb and his jokester friend Bean decide to travel to his tiny hometown of Hudsonville, Florida, to find her. Upon arrival, they discover the town has taken a horrifying turn for the worse. Caleb's childhood home is abandoned and his father has disappeared. Children are going missing. The old insane asylum has reopened, and Christine is locked inside. Her mother, a witch, is consumed with madness, and Christine's long-dead twin sister whispers clues to Caleb through the static of an a.m. radio. The terrifying prophesies of the spirits are coming to pass. Sixteen clocks are ticking; sixty-six murdered souls will bring about the end of the world. As Caleb peels back layer after layer of mystery, he uncovers a truth more horrible than anything he had imagined, a truth that could only be uttered by the lips of the dead.

Friday, August 24, 2012

Book Tour: Change by Soraya Lane

Change

Guest Blog by Soraya Lane

Why I Love Romance

There’s a reason I fell in love with the young adult genre after I read the Twilight series… the romance. Edward’s love for Bella was so intoxicating that I couldn’t put it down, and that’s why I personally think that Stephanie Meyer is such a wonderful story teller. I was so hooked on the books I was reading no matter what I was doing – even cooking dinner!

Then I discovered other series within the young adult genre, became obsessed in general with paranormal romance, and fell in love with the t.v. series of Vampire Diaries. Don’t even get me started on the Salvatore brothers! And the Hunger Games for me were the same… it was the romance between Gale and Katniss that really had me hooked. I was desperate for her to just kill everyone (Peeta included if need be) just so she could get home and fall into Gale’s arms. It’s also why even the thought of the third book in the Hunger Games series makes me get all angry with the author and want to kill her :)

Don’t get me wrong, I like all types of romance novels, but the intensity of young adult books are seriously addictive, to me anyway. In general, paranormal romance (regardless of the target reader age) is too, usually because the hero has really intense alpha qualities, and because the situations the characters find themselves in requires the hero to protect the heroine from some sort of evil.

Do you love young adult romance? If so, why? I’d love to know your thoughts.

For more information about my books, I’d love you to visit me at my website www.sorayalane.com, or connect with me on Twitter @Soraya_Lane. I often do giveaways of my latest releases, and Twitter is the best place to find me!

Change by Soraya Lane

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When her twin sister dies of a mysterious heart condition, Riley King is sent to her grandma’s ranch. But instead of the isolation she’s been aching for, she learns of a family secret that’s been deliberately kept from her, until now.

As if finding out she’s actually a leopard wasn't enough shock for one vacation, Riley meets Hunter Logan … the guy she’s promised to. For life. But Riley has no intention of being told what to do by anyone, certainly not some stubborn, dominant shifter. Even if he can make her purr, her claws are slicing out. Until Riley realizes that not fulfilling her destiny would commit her sister to a life on the other side without her ...

clip_image003About the Author:

RT award winning author Soraya Lane describes being an author as a dream come true. An avid book reader and writer since her childhood, Soraya now divides her time between writing, being a mom and caring for the many animals on her small farm in New Zealand.

In addition to young adult fiction, Soraya also writes contemporary adult romance for Harlequin Mills & Boon. For more information about all her books visit www.sorayalane.com or follow her on twitter @Soraya_Lane.

Excerpt:

Hunter inched closer, until he was bent over, a hand resting on either side of her, his face hovering above hers.

“I want you.”

Her pulse started its frantic pace. “You do?”

Now it was him laughing at her. “Could I make it any more obvious?”

She looked up hopefully, wishing he’d show her. That he’d do something to make her believe him. That he wasn’t just saying it because he felt he had to. Because they were meant to be together, to like one another.

Hunter’s lips fell to her forehead. She tilted her face up to him, wishing he’d just kiss her properly. She’d dreamt of kissing him again, of his lips on hers, of them pressing against hers over and over again until he couldn’t kiss her anymore.

His hands were still planted on the leather seat on either side of her. She could feel him tense as he moved further forward, thrust his body so it fit snug against hers.

“Riley.” He whispered her name. She watched the shape of each syllable play over his mouth.

His lips came swiftly towards her then, met hers firmly yet softly all at the same time. Riley sighed into his mouth as he kissed her, as his mouth grazed hers.

“What do we have here?”

Hunter’s lips left hers as quickly as they’d found them. She watched him snap up straight, his stance angry.

There were three guys standing near them, two eyeing his motorcycle, the one who was speaking looking straight at her. They’d both been so distracted they hadn’t noticed them approach.

It didn’t feel good. Fear touched every inched of her skin.

“Hunter,” she whispered, loud enough for only him to hear.

He raised his hand in her direction, the smallest of movements. She bit the inside of her mouth so hard she tasted blood.

Hunter’s body was angled toward the men. He looked like he was going to kill them. His back was straight, feet planted evenly apart, eyes flashing with anger, with a wildness that she hadn’t seen before.

Riley almost swallowed her tongue she gulped so hard. He could kill them, all three at once, if he changed. Could wipe the smirks off their faces quicker than they could run. But she didn’t want that.

“We don’t want any trouble.” Hunter kept his voice even. Steady. Just like his stance.

The guys snickered. “Yeah?” said the one who’d spoken first.

Hunter stood tall, eyes fixed on the guy who appeared to be the leader. “I think it’s time you moved on.”

That only made them come closer.

“Hunter, let’s just go,” she said.

“Listen to the girl,” one of the guy’s taunted.

“No!” The word hissed from her as Hunter launched at them.

She was scared he was going to change, but his control was faultless. He grabbed the first guy in a movement so fast he didn’t even see it coming, then slammed him into the ground. She could see how tight he was holding him, knew he could snap his neck in an instant if wanted to. If he let himself go.

Hunter’s foot kept him pressed face down while he stared at the other two. She watched the animal within him flicker, could almost hear the growl echoing in his chest.

“I think it’s time you went home.” His voice was cool.

The other two men disappeared. Hunter let his foot go and gave the guy on the ground a shove forward. “You too.”

Riley was too shocked to move. Hunter pulled her arms up and helped her into his jacket.

“Riley, let’s go.”

She took his hand as he pulled her up, let her head fall back as he planted a rough kiss to her lips, before dropping his helmet gently on her head.

“They’ll be back soon, with more guys and tire irons,” he said grimly. “I’d rather not change and take them all. Not here.”

All she could do was nod, even as he lifted her off the pavement and put her on his motorcycle.

Hunter stood back then, eyeing her. She watched as he rocked back on his feet, eyes set softly on hers. “I’m sorry you had to see that.” He looked guilty. “I didn’t scare you, did I?”

Riley shook her head. The situation had scared her, but Hunter hadn’t. All she’d know for sure was that Hunter wouldn’t let them hurt so much as a hair on her head, and he’d been more in control than she’d expected he could be. Given the threat.

A sad look passed over his face, one she couldn’t read.

“I know I look like the bad guy, Riley, but I’m not.” He gave her a wry smile, shuffled his boots before meeting her eyes again. “I’m the good guy here. I would never, ever hurt you.”

Riley’s face flushed hot. “I know.” Her voice came out as barely a whisper. “I know.”

Thursday, August 23, 2012

National Braai Day with Fireworks by Jan Braai

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This Friday, August 24, Jan Braai, the head of the National Braai Day initiative and the author of Fireworks, and Cameron van der Burgh, 2012 Olympic gold medallist will be putting smiles on 252 children of Abangani Enkosini in Alexandra, with a boerewors (sausage) braai.

This comes after Cameron van der Burgh received a cow from National Braai Day in honour of his gold medal triumph at the London Olympics. The cow, valued at R7 000, is being converted into the equivalent value of wors - a total of 140kg.

In support of South Africa’s hunger for glory and the hunt for medals at the 2012 Summer Olympics held in London, National Braai Day pledged to present a cow (or its equivalent in meat) to every South African athlete that brought home an Olympic gold medal from London.

The “ raising the steaks” incentive scheme stirred up some great excitement on National Braai Day’s Facebook page amongst those South Africans who are keen braaiers and are proudly South African. The same views held by the National Braai Day initiative which aims to unite South Africans around the fire.

National Braai Day is working hard on getting in touch with Chad Le Clos and the rowing team members who also made South Africa proud by taking home gold medals In London earlier this month, to hand over their honorary cows in order to properly prepare them for National Braai Day on 24 September, which promises to be the next highlight of their (and the South African public's) year.

To interview Jan Braai, or for more information about the book Fireworks, contact Tarryn Talbot at tarryn@panmacmillan.co.za or call 011 731 3440.

Look out for my review of Fireworks coming soon (thank you Pan PacMillan South Africa!!)

Tuesday, August 21, 2012

Book Review: The Raft by S.A. Bodeen

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Title: The Raft
Author: S.A. Bodeen
Genre: Adventure YA
Publisher: Feiwel & Friends
Publication date: 21 August 2012
Author’s website:  http://www.rockforadoll.com/
Source: NetGalley

Goodreads blurb:
Robie is an experienced traveller. She’s taken the flight from Honolulu to the Midway Atoll, a group of Pacific islands where her parents live, many times. When she has to get to Midway in a hurry after a visit with her aunt in Hawaii, she gets on the next cargo flight at the last minute. She knows the pilot, but on this flight, there’s a new co-pilot named Max. All systems are go until a storm hits during the flight. The only passenger, Robie doesn’t panic until the engine suddenly cuts out and Max shouts at her to put on a life jacket. They are over miles of Pacific Ocean. She sees Max struggle with a raft.
And then . . . she’s in the water. Fighting for her life. Max pulls her onto the raft, and that’s when the real terror begins. They have no water. Their only food is a bag of Skittles. There are sharks. There is an island. But there’s no sign of help on the way.

My thoughts:
I have to admit that I don’t think I will be able to survive a plane crash and then two weeks surviving on a raft  - not to mention the deserted island.  I am not that strong or that resourceful but then neither was Robie.  I have no idea how she survived this ordeal.  She really did not do much except moan and feel sorry for herself for most of the book. 

Just to illustrate my point, she is drifting in the middle of the ocean but complains about an infected nose-ring.  Really?!  Maybe it helped to keep her mind off the dire circumstances.  :) 

Max, the co-pilot is the only other main character in the book.  He forces Robie out of the sinking plane and into the raft but soon loses consciousness.  For the rest of the book, Robie talks to Max and asks him questions without much response – I am sure his presence is a big part of her survival.

** Beware - Possible spoiler alert **

The ending was a real surprise to me.  All of a sudden a ship appears on the horizon and picks up Robie.  All is well and she is on her way to her mom and dad.  It was just too smooth for me.  I kept on waiting for the rescue to be a  “it is all a dream/hallucination” type of  climax but that never happened.

All in all, The Raft is an enjoyable read and I would recommend it for a lazy afternoon.

 

Three_Cup_Rater

Saturday, August 18, 2012

My Spotlight: Extinction Point by Paul Jones

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Extinction Point

Reporter Emily Baxter has a great job, an apartment in Manhattan, and a boyfriend she loves. All that changes the day the red rain falls from a cloudless sky. Just hours after the first reports from Europe, humanity is on the brink of extinction, wiped from the face of the earth in a few bloody moments, leaving Emily alone in an empty city. As she struggles to grasp the magnitude of her situation, Emily becomes the final witness to the end of our world… and the birth of a terrifying new one.
The world she knew and loved is dead and gone. Now Emily must try to find a way out of New York as the truth behind the red rain is revealed: the earth no longer belongs to humanity.

Friday, August 17, 2012

Zombie Book Blitz and Giveaway: Waiting for Daybreak by Amanda McNeil

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Blurb:
What is normal?
Frieda has never felt normal. She feels every emotion too strongly and lashes out at herself in punishment. But one day when she stays home from work too depressed to get out of bed, a virus breaks out turning her neighbors into flesh-eating, brain-hungry zombies. As her survival instinct kicks in keeping her safe from the zombies, Frieda can’t help but wonder if she now counts as healthy and normal, or is she still abnormal compared to every other human being who is craving brains?

Author Bio:
Amanda McNeil is an energetic, masters degree educated, 20-something happilyAuthorPic living in an attic apartment in Boston with her shelter-adopted cat.  Her day job is a medical librarian, and her hobbies (besides writing and reading) include cooking, fitness, and exploring everything from museums to dive bars.  She writes horror, scifi, paranormal romance, and urban fantasy.  This is her first novel, although she has previously published short stories and a novella, Ecstatic Evil.

Excerpt:

I try not to ponder existence too much.  It can get depressing, and when you already experienced crippling depression back before the world went to hell in a hand-basket, it's best to avoid that.  So that's why I've taken to curling up in the bathtub with a pile of books on one side and my trusty kitchen knife on the other.  Bathtubs really do feel more secure than a bed, and books help me forget that I have no one to talk to and nothing to do besides ensure my continual survival.  Gotta live for another day of reading in the bathtub, am I right?  Snuggles, my cat, stretches in her sleep, nudging my side with her nose.  Ok, so I'm not totally alone, and Snuggles needs me.  She wouldn't understand a world without me.  Laying my hand on her soft, gray side,  I return to my cheesy romance, about to discover whether this lord is really a catch or a bastard for the lady in waiting, when there's a sound.  Was that?  Was that a voice?  I stop, putting my book down mid-sentence and reach over to the carefully propped-up flashlight, turning it off and with my other hand grab the knife.  It might not seem like the best survival choice to prowl through a dark apartment clutching a knife, but so far my odd choices have led to my survival, so who am I to listen to the leftover voices of reason forced into my brain throughout my life? 
    I leave my centrally located, and thankfully windowless, bathroom, dropping to my knees at the door.  Holding the knife in one hand, I crawl to the windows.  I debated for days over what to do with them.  Blacken them?  Leave them as is to make it appear the owner is dead?  Since I'm on the fourth floor, I finally opted for leaving them as is to allow for my own visibility.  Most of the Afflicted probably wouldn't be able to look up that high anyway.  Plus I need to have light somehow.  It's dusk, and the lighting in the apartment is shoddy at best.  I switch to a squatting position and carefully peer out the window.  There.  In the middle of the street.  It's a person walking very slowly.  A few months ago I'd have decided it was a schizophrenic homeless person and gone on about my day.  Unfortunately, that's not gonna cut it anymore.  Every muscle in my body is poised, ready for action if need be.  The person takes another step forward and moans. 
    Moaning.  Not good.
    She--we're just gonna call it a she since it's impossible to tell at the moment, and I'm less scared at the thought of facing another female--she takes another step forward and reaches a hand up to wipe her nose.  I grab the binoculars I keep near the street-side windows and take a glance. 
    Gray goo.  Uh-oh.
    She's Afflicted.  Odd.  I thought they had all finished dying off a couple of weeks ago.  A late bloomer?  If that's the case, I'm not as safe as I thought I was.  She looks toward my house, and I duck down. 
    "Help me," she calls.
    Shit.  Did she see me?
    "Help me!"
    No. No no no no no. 
    The stupid Afflicted.   They're so selfish.  They can't obey simple quarantine orders.  They can't have the decency to off themselves so they don't expose others.  Ok.  Maybe that's not entirely fair.  The virus messes with their brains.  They probably don't understand what's going on, but still. 
    The faint sounds of the front door rattling echo up the stairwell.  I can practically see her struggling to open the front door.  At least her lack of coordination is buying me some time.  Sticking my knife in my home-made sheath tied around my waist, I tip-toe to the closet and grab two plastic gloves from the massive box I swiped from one of the convenience stores and pull them on.  Then I arm myself with a plastic grocery bag from the basket of them placed near the door for situations just like this and line myself up against the wall beside it.  Hopefully she'll be taken by surprise.  Hopefully she hasn't become too hulky strong.  I practically hold my breath waiting while listening to her struggle with the stairs.  She must have seen me.  It's the only explanation. 
    Stupid, stupid, stupid.
    Her plaintive calls of "help me" hit my ears every minute or so.  Her halting footsteps reach my front door.
    "Help me."
    The knob turns.
    "Help me."
    The door swings inward open.  She takes two halting steps in.  I can see the goo dripping from her nose, almost as gray as her sickly skin.  She takes another step in, and I move behind her.  Her tattered clothes barely cling to her emaciated body, but even then I can tell they were an Armani suit originally.  Her shoulder-length hair lies in clumps along her back.  It is impossible to discern what color it is.  She turns her head.  I can almost see the delicate bone structure underneath the swelling.  Underneath the changing features of her face.  Her eyes glaze over, and her features change into a snarl.  I lunge for her at the same instant that she lunges for me.  I just manage to get the plastic bag over her head milliseconds before her hands would have succeeded in clasping around my neck.  She instinctually switches course and reaches up to struggle with the bag on her head.  I tighten it and swing behind her, pushing against her, trying to get her to the floor.  Her roars fill the apartment.
    "Bitch!  Help me!  I need them!  I need them!"  Her fingers grab hold onto mine and she starts to squeeze, trying to crush them.  They may as well be garlic in a garlic press.  That's gonna hurt tomorrow.  If I make it to tomorrow.  I focus in on the bag. Tightening the bag.  Her fingers start to loosen.  Her whole body is shaking in a violent rage.  I start to count.  She should be pretty much dead by the time I get to ten. 
    "One."  I say it out loud.  It helps to calm me.
    "Two."  Her legs are still shaking.
    "Three."  She is still for the moment.
    "Four."  She slams a fist into the floor.
    "Five."  A few shakes of the feet.
    "Six."  Still.
    "Seven."  All quiet on the western front.
    "Eight."  Here comes the choking death rattle.
    "Nine."  Silence.
    "Ten."  Still silence.
    My gasps fill the room as the adrenaline slows down.  I doubt I'll ever get over how the Afflicted go from plaintive cries for help to insane killing machine so fast.  Or the fact that if she had got her hands on my brains it really would have made her feel better.  I unsheath my knife and stab her in the back.  Gotta be sure.  Learned that quickly enough in the early days.  Scurrying to the kitchen, I plunge the knife into the ever-ready antiseptic bath and grab a fresh one, stashing it in the sheath.  Grabbing a garbage bag, I head back to the living room to clean up.
    Stuffing a body in a bag is an art form that you get better at with practice.  The limbs just need to be folded a certain way before rigor mortis sets in.  Her snarling face glares blankly up at me through the grocery bag.  It's a good thing I was so bad at remembering to bring my reusable bags with me back before.  I give my head a quick shake and tie up the garbage bag.  Much as I would love to drag the bag all the way out of the building, where there's one Afflicted, there's often others, so for the time being, she's going in the basement.  Nearly mindlessly I drag her down the five flights of stairs into the basement and stash her behind a pile of empty boxes some other tenant was saving for when she moved out.  I stare at the sharpied labels for a few moments. 
Kitchen
    R's room
Bathroom
    I used to dread moving.  It was right on my top ten list of evil elements of life right along with reality rehab shows and veal.  Ok, so my top ten evil things list was a bit odd and not particularly grounded in real life, but what do you expect from someone with a mental illness?  Clear, rational thought?  I turn and drag myself back up the stairs to disinfect my living room and myself before setting up the evening stake-out for any of Little Miss Afflicted's friends.

Giveaway

Amanda is giving away an eBook copy of her book to a lucky commenter.  Leave a message before 24 August2012 and I will draw a winner after.

Thank you, Amanda!

Wednesday, August 15, 2012

Cover Reveal: Taken by Karice Bolton

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Taken (A Watchers Novella)  
by Karice Bolton

Expected Pub: December 2012

Prequel (The Watchers Trilogy)

A Watchers Novella

Ana and Athen are enjoying the quiet life as a couple with only the minor dark demon infraction to rectify. Cyril and Arie are enjoying the newfound simplicity too. Things are perfect – too perfect.

They soon realize that something far more sinister is taking place in their world, and they must do their best to stop the evil from spreading. Determined to figure out who is tampering with the mortals’ fate they are unable to recognize that it’s a trap, and one of their own is the target.

This is where it all begins.

Author Bio:
Karice Bolton is a paranormal romance/urban fantasy author living in the Pacific Northwest. All three books in The Watchers Trilogy are available now, Awakening, Legions, and Cataclysm. Lonely Souls, which is the first book in her new series Witch Avenue, was released in June 2012!
Karice married the love of her life who she met in high school, and she still can't get over how cute and funny he is. They have two English Bulldogs that are the cutest bullies in the world, and they use their cuteness to get what they want. Karice loves the snow and gravitates towards the stuff as often as possible! She enjoys skiing and tries really hard to snowboard, but often makes a nice little area to sit while everyone zips by on their board. She enjoys writing, and she also loves to read just about anything with print.


Author Links:
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5240334.Karice_Bolton

Website: http://www.karicebolton.com/

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/karicebolton

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Karice-Bolton/218230041566833

*Covers by PhatPuppy Art ( http://phatpuppyart.com/ )*

Cover Reveal: Altered Souls by Karice Bolton

Altered Souls

Altered Souls (Book 2 of The Witch Avenue Series)
by Karice Bolton

Expected Pub: October 2012 

The realm of Altered Souls brings nothing but unrest, deceit, and pain forcing Triss to come face to face with heartbreak from her past.

Facing a betrayal like never before, Triss questions everything she thought she knew about her family, coven, and abilities.

With the help of Logan, she embarks on a journey enabling her to confront the dark side of magic and the person who controls it. Realizing Triss’s ancestors have been seduced for centuries by the dark side, Triss and Logan must ensure no more in their world fall victim to the realm of Altered Souls, even if that means ending the ones they love.

Author Bio:
Karice Bolton is a paranormal romance/urban fantasy author living in the Pacific Northwest. All three books in The Watchers Trilogy are available now, Awakening, Legions, and Cataclysm. Lonely Souls, which is the first book in her new series Witch Avenue, was released in June 2012!
Karice married the love of her life who she met in high school, and she still can't get over how cute and funny he is. They have two English Bulldogs that are the cutest bullies in the world, and they use their cuteness to get what they want. Karice loves the snow and gravitates towards the stuff as often as possible! She enjoys skiing and tries really hard to snowboard, but often makes a nice little area to sit while everyone zips by on their board. She enjoys writing, and she also loves to read just about anything with print.


Author Links:
Goodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5240334.Karice_Bolton

Website: http://www.karicebolton.com/

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/karicebolton

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Karice-Bolton/218230041566833

*Cover by PhatPuppy Art ( http://phatpuppyart.com/ )*

Saturday, August 11, 2012

My Spotlight: Paradise by Jon Fore

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According to Goodreads, this book is 1,289 pages long.

Paradise

They promised her that no matter what happened, they would be waiting there for her. They promised that it would only be two weeks, a short vacation, just some time to spend together and away from the daily demands of parenthood. They promised it would be just like going to sleep, and before she knew it, it would be over. These were promises they could not keep.
They always told Hope that Paradise was the place they would wait--forever. Paradise was where they married long before Hope was born. It was the faith instilled, over and again before placing her in stasis. Just a short respite, a vacation to work things out Hope was too young to understand.
While locked in stasis, a solar storm ravages the planet, burning the life from those exposed and bringing society to ruin. Helpless in the stasis pod, Hope absorbs an educational augmentation program, not for two weeks, but for centuries, awaiting her parents’ return.
Michigan, a young hunter in a tribe of hunter-gatherers discovers Hope during a mating contest and awakens her to a world where she inhabits the body of an adult, is emotionally only seven, and the is final vessel of all humanities applied knowledge.
Plagued with the unending monotone voices lecturing knowledge implanted during stasis, Hope tries to adapt to this new world, to this small tribe, themselves failing to illness, to a dwindling food supply, and the unrelenting taking of the Amabo. The Amabo were once a peaceful philanthropic tribe, caring for those survivors unable to care for themselves. Now they are brutal takers. Their culture is one of violence, of dominance, and the collecting of their needs from others. A practice, after so many generations, that has become their birthright.
Hope and Michigan resolve to find Paradise, to fulfill the last promise of her parents and free themselves from a world of savage collection.

My Spotlight: The Lifeboat by Charlotte Rogan

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The Lifeboat

Grace Winter, 22, is both a newlywed and a widow. She is also on trial for her life.
In the summer of 1914, the elegant ocean liner carrying her and her husband Henry across the Atlantic suffers a mysterious explosion. Setting aside his own safety, Henry secures Grace a place in a lifeboat, which the survivors quickly realize is over capacity. For any to live, some must die.
As the castaways battle the elements, and each other, Grace recollects the unorthodox way she and Henry met, and the new life of privilege she thought she'd found. Will she pay any price to keep it?
The Lifeboat is a page-turning novel of hard choices and survival, narrated by a woman as unforgettable and complex as the events she describes.

Saturday, August 4, 2012

My Spotlight: Glitch by Heather Anastasiu

 

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Expected publication:

August 7th 2012 by St. Martin's Press

Glitch (Glitch, #1)

In the Community, there is no more pain or war. Implanted computer chips have wiped humanity clean of destructive emotions, and thoughts are replaced by a feed from the Link network.
When Zoe starts to malfunction (or “glitch”), she suddenly begins having her own thoughts, feelings, and identity. Any anomalies must be immediately reported and repaired, but Zoe has a secret so dark it will mean certain deactivation if she is caught: her glitches have given her uncontrollable telekinetic powers.
As Zoe struggles to control her abilities and stay hidden, she meets other glitchers including Max, who can disguise his appearance, and Adrien, who has visions of the future. Both boys introduce Zoe to feelings that are entirely new. Together, this growing band of glitchers must find a way to free themselves from the controlling hands of the Community before they’re caught and deactivated, or worse.

Friday, August 3, 2012

Book Blitz: Hot Coco by CINDY McDONALD

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HOT: Coco Beardmore

NOT: Coco’s calamities

HOT: Mike West’s fantasies

NOT: Mike’s reality

That’s right, Coco Beardmore is sizzling hot and she’s landed in Mike West’s Lap. The problem is Coco’s middle name is chaos! Her driving skills are a real bang--into Mike’s horse trailer, and her sultry seduction will set the room on fire--the kitchen that is.

What’s worse is her Thoroughbreds ability to mimic their owner’s habit of screwing things up. It’s enough to drive a normally calm and collected Mike West to the very edge.

But Mike’s not the only one having problems with women. His father Eric has taken on more than he can chew, and he’s about to get spit out by two women: one that he’s in love with and one that thinks he’s in love with her.

Oh yeah, things are hot around Westwood Thoroughbred Farm… and someone’s about to get burned!

Author Bio:
For the past twenty years Cindy has helped her husband raise, train, and race Thoroughbreds at their forty-five acre farm known as Fly-By-Night Stables near Pittsburgh.

IMG_3719TR4x5During those years Cindy has paid close attention to the characters that hang-out at the back-side of the track.  She found the situations and life style most intriguing. In 2005 she sat down at her computer and began a journey into writing about this life that few understand.

Cindy has recently retired from making her living as a professional choreographer. She owned and operated Cindy McDonald’s School of Dance since 1985.  She studied at Pittsburgh Ballet Theatre School and with the Pittsburgh Dance Alloy at Carnegie Mellon University to name a few.  She has choreographed many musicals and an opera for the Pittsburgh Savoyards.

To find out more about future books of the Unbridled Series, please visit Cindy’s website at: www.cindymcwriter.com

How to contact Cindy McDonald:

My website: www.cindymcwriter.com

My FB page: https://www.facebook.com/pages/THE-UNBRIDLED-SERIES/234151313271418

I’m a goodreads author: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5264796.Cindy_McDonald

Yep, I’m on twitter. Here’s my handle: @cindymcdonald7

My books, DEADLY.COM and HOT COCO are available on amazon:

http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_1?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=Hot+Coco

and DEADLY.COM: http://www.amazon.com/s/ref=nb_sb_noss_1?url=search-alias%3Dstripbooks&field-keywords=Deadly.com

Excerpt:

The following excerpt is taken from Chapter 5. Coco has invited Mike to her home for dinner after she had accidentally wrecked her Escalade into his horse trailer that afternoon...
While waiting on the steps of Coco’s brown stone townhouse, Mike hoped his evening would be worth the trashed trailer and rather acute case of heartburn that he was anticipating. He cocked his head when he heard what sounded like a large dog growling and barking from behind the lavishly, beveled
front door. He looked around at the meticulously landscaped townhouses with sporty Mercedes, Porsches, and BMW’s parked in the driveways before glancing over his shoulder at his pickup parked next to Coco’s wrecked SUV. When the door finally opened the Cocker Spaniel sprung out to circle his
legs while sniffing, barking, and snarling at him.
“Booger, behave.” Coco looked like forgiveness wrapped in a little black peel-me-off when she appeared in the doorway. “Don’t worry, he doesn’t bite. Come in, Mike.” She said like a spider coaxing a fly.
She guided him through the foyer into a living room decked-to- the-hilt with stylish, French provincial furnishings. Booger sniffed and nipped at Mike’s legs while following close behind.
Beautiful paintings hung on the walls in ornate frames. Mike knew exactly one thing about artists or artwork: Jackshit. But it was obvious, even to him, that these pieces had come from a gallery, rather than a retail store. The vibrant colors splashed across the canvas were thick, and sweeping, and perhaps
a little angry, that much he could appreciate—kinda.
A large, gilded mirror hung on the wall behind the sofa. Crystal framed photographs of Coco and her father filled the coffee tables. Classy.
“Make yourself comfortable. I’ll be right back.” She slipped through the doorway into the kitchen.
Mike buried his hands into the pockets of his Levis and studied an abstract work of art on the wall. What the hell is that supposed to be?
Booger’s growl thinned to a low grouse. His curly ears perked, and he stomped his paws against the white carpet.
“What’s the matter, boy?” Purring cautiously at the spunky spaniel, he patted Booger on the head, and then turned his attention to a photo of Stanley Beardmore, with his arms wrapped around Coco. Booger sprung at him, clamped his little body around Mike’s leg. Wagging his tiny tail, he humped and panted erotically.
Holy shit. Mike’s eyes widened. Shaking his leg frantically, he danced around the room while trying to free himself from the dog’s nirvanas grip. He braced against a table while kicking his leg, but Booger, enjoying the ride, hung on tight.
“Booger, that’s not nice.” Holding two full wine glasses, Coco trotted toward them. After hurriedly setting one of the glasses on the table, she slapped Booger on the top of his head, during which the wine in the glass splashed down Mike’s white shirt. Booger shrunk away from his leg with a yelp and scampered out of the room with his tail-tucked between his legs.
“Oh Mike, I’m sorry!”
Hoping that he wouldn’t only have to envision this butterfingered beauty naked tonight, he took a deep breath. He truly hoped that it would be an evening of pleasure worth the abyss of calamities that seemed to suck her in.
“Quick, take that shirt off, and I’ll soak it in seltzer water.” She fumbled with the buttons until she opened the shirt to reveal his muscled pecks and tight abs. Her fingers fluttered over his shoulders and down his strong arms when she slipped the shirt from his torso. Blushing, she averted her gaze to the red stain on his shirt. She wet her pink, full lips and looked into his eyes. Good God, he’s setting me on fire. Can I make it through dinner?
Smiling, she brushed a wisp of his dark hair away from his brow. “I’ll be right back.”
Listening to her trot up the stairs, he found his thoughts going to Ava’s cat. He hated that cat.
She was an evil little thing. He wasn’t exactly in love with Coco’s Cocker Spaniel. Go figure.
When he spied the glass on the table, he drank down the remaining wine to wet his dry mouth.
He heard her footsteps on the stairs, and she reappeared with a shirt draped over her arm. She held up the over-sized nightshirt, which she helped him slip into. Although it was over-sized for her, it was a quite taut for him.
Stepping back to take a look, she giggled.
He looked down and groaned. The shirt was brown with pink lettering that read: “Chocolate and men, the richer, the better.”
“Well, it’s better than nothing.” She felt how the shirt clung to his firm torso and outlined every detail of his pecs and abs. “Although, nothing would be fine, too.” Her hands traced his shoulders, down his arms, through his fingertips, and then lightly across the crotch of his jeans. “Come sit at the table,”
she whispered. “Dinner’s almost ready.”
Mike was feeling the heat, but he managed to ask, “What are we having?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“I can hardly wait.”
She led him into a spacious, gourmet kitchen. The stainless steel appliances gleamed in the bright lights. The white cabinetry swooped around dark, granite counters.
Mike took a seat at the table, which was dressed in white, satin linens and delicate, fine china.
The light from the crystal chandelier glinted off the silverware. Booger scooted under the table to mope.
The kitchen was most impressive, but when he sat at the table with a fresh glass of wine, it wasn’t the cabinetry that he was admiring. Christ, she looks so damned tasty in that tight little rip-it-offme-now dress. He took a big gulp of wine and swallowed hard while trying to keep other hard things under wraps.
Coco carefully placed several pieces of meat into a skillet. It spit and sizzled in the hot oil. She cradled her wine glass in her fingers. “Your shirt should be ready for the dryer after dinner.”
“That’s fine.” He felt the squeeze of the dog latching around his shin again. Sonofabitch. He kicked. The dog yelped. He grinned.
Coco was attracted to this handsome man sitting at her table. She was more aroused by the fact that he didn’t cancel their dinner date after she had smashed his horse trailer. He’s definitely a gentleman cowboy. How sexy is that? Her lips curled at the thought. With a sultry gleam, in her sapphire eyes, she strode toward him.
More than the meat was sizzling.
Mike knew what that look meant. Oh, yeah, no imagination needed. The ballerina is about to do her little dance.
She leaned over him.
While she paused to take in his hazel eyes, he could feel her breath on his face.
“I wanted to cook something fancy,” she whispered, “because it makes me feel fancy,” Her lips
crashed against his. Her tongue searched his mouth.
He ran his fingers through her hair. Cupping her face in his hands, he kissed her back with passion.
The meat crackled in the skillet.
She ran her hands over his chest and down to his hips. Her fingers found the outline of his erection pressing against his jeans. She groped at his belt.
Kissing her neck, he slipped a sleeve of the dress off her shoulder and nipped at her shoulder.
Tasting her skin, he made his way hungrily down her chest.
Crunch! The force of a body wrapped around his leg broke through the lust. Booger humped and pushed, which made it impossible to ignore.
Damn it. Mike’s eyes popped open. He attempted to kick the dog, but he was fastened on tight and going at it strong.
Abruptly, he became aware that Booger’s love connection to his leg wasn’t the biggest problem at hand. Smoke billowed from the skillet. Flames leapt from the stove. Greasy fireballs ignited dish towels. The curtains were already ablaze.
Shoving Coco onto the table, Mike sprung to his feet.
Her face lit up with intense desire. “Oh Mike, you are naughty,” she gasped.
“Coco, where’s your fire extinguisher?”
“You wanna be a fireman?” Coco was giddy.
Booger was rapt.
Mike was exasperated. “No, your fire extinguisher, where is it?”
Flames shot across the counter top. The smoking skillet spit sparks and fire like a cannon.
He snatched the tablecloth from under Coco and ripped it off the table. China, glassware, silver, crashed and broke against the wall and on the floor. He beat the flames while dragging the horny, Cocker Spaniel, still humping his leg, across the room with him.
“Call the fire department.”
“Wha—” Coco stammered while trying to get a grasp on the situation.
“9-1-1,” Mike shrieked while thrashing the flames, kicking his leg, and cursing her calamity.

Giveaway

If you are as intrigued as I am, you now have a change to win a eBook copy of Hot Coco.  Leave a message for Cindy and I will draw a winner on 10 August 2012.

Wednesday, August 1, 2012

Book Blitz and Giveaway: Destiny Unveiled by Laura Deluca

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Title: Destiny Unveiled

Genre: YA Paranormal

Author: Laura Deluca

Date Published: 4/2012

 

clip_image002Gabriella and Darron thought their magickal battle was over when they defeated the evil warlock, Richard. When her Aunt Donna seeks Gabriella's help in rescuing her catatonic daughter from the Dark Coven, Gabriella discovers that her cousin holds a power within her that would be catastrophic in the hands of the evil witches. Gabriella's coven sets out on a journey that may be their last. Along the way, they meet new allies, face devastating treachery, and battle not only the Dark Coven, but the darkness within themselves. When Gabriella finally comes face to face with the cousin she never knew existed, her true destiny is unveiled, and the fate of the mortal world is in her hands.

Excerpt:

Darron was on the roof of a large building, elevated dizzyingly high over the road below. Other skyscrapers bordered it, but it was by far the largest building in the general area, standing several stories higher than it's neighbors. The few cars that dotted the street below looked like insects. Above him, the moon shone full, round, and red in the night sky. It was an autumn moon, a blood moon. By the light of that moon, Darron was able to see the practiced movements of six black-cloaked figures, who swayed to the steady beat of an invisible drum. Their shapes were obscure in the pale light, and it was impossible to determine if they were men or women because the dark, hooded robes they wore hid their features from view.

There was an altar erected in the center of a circle that was outlined in black charcoal. On that altar sat the normal tools of ritual: a black tipped dagger, a silver chalice, an incense burner, and multiple black candles. Darron owned similar items. They weren't frightening in themselves. But the altar, like the people who lingered around it, was outlined by a shimmering black aura. The vibrations they relayed were no less than evil. Their presence made Darron shudder. He watched in horror, as a silent and unwelcome spectator to the forbidden rights.

Four of the cloaked figures took up the elemental corners, preparing to call the Guardians. The Guardians answered their call, unable to ignore the summons because magick can't be divided into good and evil. It's both because nature is both, harsh and devastating yet beautiful and gentle as the need arises. It was just as easy for the dark witches to harness the destructive forces of nature as it was for Darron and his coven to call upon its life giving magick. Good or evil was in the heart of its master, not in the magick that was wielded.

A fifth cloaked figure, the apparent leader of the group, stood in the center of the circle with the dagger raised high above his head. The sixth and final coven member groveled at the feet of the leader, his head lowered in acquiescence. The hood of his cloak hid his face though he was no more than a few feet away from Darron.

"Brother and sisters," the leader proclaimed, his accented voice heavy with his foreboding presence. "Tonight in the wake of the blood moon, we come together to bring a new brother into our fold. He has completed the required tasks and proven himself worthy to join us in our work."

"So mote it be!"

The four other cloaked figures cried out in perfect unison. Their hands were raised to the sky in honor of the blood moon.

The leader picked up the chalice from the altar. He followed the path of the circle to all of the elemental corners, stopping at each of the robed coven members in turn. Each offered their willing hands to their leader, palm outward. Each welcomed the point of the black edged dagger as it dug into their open palms without so much as a gasp of pain. The high priest cut a clean line down the centers of the palms of his disciples, and they all squeezed their fingers against the open wound to allow the blood to drip into the waiting chalice.

After collecting the offering from his followers, the leader returned to the center of the circle and the waiting initiate. With one quick motion, he sliced open his own palm. He held his hand over the cup, letting his blood drip slowly into the chalice, until the wound miraculously healed before Darron's startled eyes. When the chalice was full, he carried it to the eager initiate who took the cup firmly into his hands and tilted it towards his lips.

"As this blood makes you one with our flesh, so your soul follows to become one with the darkness," the English voice intoned.

As the initiate drained the last of the liquid in the chalice, his hood fell away, revealing a blonde ponytail pulled back over a pale white face, made even paler by the outline of bright red blood around his lips. Darron watched in stunned, horrified silence as his own face turned to meet his gaze. Eyes turned as black as coals stared back at Darron with a grim smile of satisfaction.

"Rise Darron," the leader commanded. And as he spoke, he lifted the hood from his head. Rise brother of the Dark Coven."


clip_image001 Author Bio:

Laura “Luna” DeLuca lives at the beautiful Jersey shore with her husband and four children. She loves writing in the young adult genre because it keeps her young at heart.  In addition to writing fiction, Laura is also the sole author of a popular review blog called New Age Mama. She is an active member of her local pagan community, and has been studying Wicca for close to eight years.

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