Thursday, March 28, 2019

Trailblazer by Michelle Diener - Book Blast and Giveaway



He's on a mission . . .

She's running for her life . . .

And if they get off-planet alive, she'll have to trust he won't reveal her darkest secret.

Tally Riva is not what she seems, and even she's not happy about it. Infected, invaded, she's not quite sure how to describe it, but on a disastrous mission to a ghost ship, something burrowed its way into her body. Into her mind.

When her commander decides the best cure for what he thinks is Tally's trauma is to send her on the famous Veltos Trail, Tally goes without revealing what's really behind her mental anguish. Anything to be seen as normal again, anything to ignore what she's afraid is happening to her.

But Veltos isn't the safe place it seems. The chosen military personnel lucky enough to be offered the chance to walk the Trail are supposed to be the only people on Veltos. But Ben Guthrie, a captain in Arkhoran Special Forces, knows they're not. He and his team have been on Veltos for a month already, tracking suspicious enemy activity, and he's gone undercover on the Trail in search of a satellite his superiors are sure has been shot down.

When Ben's worst fears become reality, and they find themselves hunted by a cunning enemy through the thick forests of Veltos, Tally and Ben fight together to survive. And Tally has to decide if accepting the changes inside her will save them both, or be her doom.

TRAILBLAZER is part of the Verdant String series but can easily be read as a standalone novel. Other books in the series include Interference & Insurgency (Two Novellas of the Verdant String), and Breakaway and Breakeven.



Excerpt

Ben stood outside to watch the military runner come in.

The flare of the engine was visible because dusk had already fallen and the sky was the indigo blue that shouldn't be unique to Veltos, but somehow was. There was just something special about the color here.

“Nervous?” Irwin stepped out to join him and looked up, following the runner as it fell toward them.

Ben glanced at him, wondering if the guide actively worked to be this annoying, or whether it was just a gift.

“Should I be?” He kept his tone mild.

Irwin glanced at him, shrugged. “Most people are a little nervous to meet their fellow Trail walkers. It's a two week journey, and there's no getting away from anyone who's difficult.”

And certainly no getting away from them if they were the guide.

Ben crossed his arms and watched the runner touch down lightly on the hoverpad a thou away. It was close enough that he could hear the hum of the engine and the silence when it cut off.

“So you never said which warship dropped you off.” Irwin had turned to watch the runner, too. 

“No, I didn't.” Ben kept his answer short.

Irwin gave a snort. “Super secret, huh?”

Ben said nothing.

“Do you Arkhorans actively try to irritate the living shit out of the rest of us, or is it just how you're made?”

Irwin's comment was so similar to what Ben had thought about the guide, he couldn't help the laugh that burst from him.

“Let's leave it at 'super secret'.”

About the Author


Michelle Diener writes historical fiction, fantasy and science fiction. Having worked in publishing and IT, she’s now very happy crafting new worlds and interesting characters and wondering which part of the world she can travel to next.

Michelle was born in London, grew up in South Africa and currently lives in Australia with her husband and children. When she’s not writing, or driving her kids from activity to activity, you can find her at her website, or online at Twitter and Facebook.












Giveaway
Michelle Diener will be awarding a $25 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.
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Wednesday, March 27, 2019

The Girl from the Lighthouse by Willard Thompson - Book Tour and Giveaway



The Girl From the Lighthouse tells the compelling story of Emma Dobbins. 

Abandoned by her mother at an early age, she was raised by her father, a lighthouse keeper at Point Conception in California, where early on she discovers her artistic talent.  At the age of 17, Emma travels to Paris with a chaperone, to attend art school but is separated from the chaperone when the woman becomes ill. Emma arrives alone in Paris with no money, no language skills, and no friends. A chance meeting with a young working girl in the train station becomes her first Parisian friend.

The setting is Paris in the 1860s-70s, the start of the Belle Èpoque. France soon is involved in the Franco/Prussian War and the Commune Uprising; difficult times for Emma and all Frenchmen. Initially rejected by art schools, her determination keeps her moving toward her goal in the art world, where the Impressionists are starting to change the world. Frenchmen fall in love with her beautiful face and lustrous dark hair. Some wanted to paint her, others to court her, but either way, she does not abide by the rules they try to impose on her because she never learned them. She grows into an accomplished artist but never gives up her own principles... even when someone steals something precious to her and she fights to get it back. 

The story is told in the first person, present tense, allowing the reader to enter the story and feel a part of it as it unfolds, sharing with Emma her highs and lows, loves and rejections, all focused in the art world of Paris.  The novel is filled with vivid characters, both fictional and real people, and the story unfolds gracefully from the 1870s until 1912, just prior to the start of WWI.



Excerpt

The next morning, I go to the orchard with my easel and a canvas to capture the early light and the dew on the leaves of the apple trees. I set up the easel midway between two rows and concentrate on getting the perspective just right, as the trees appear to merge in the distance. It is delicate, tedious work, but the charcoal pencil I sketch with comes alive in my fingers, eagerly welcoming the challenge. In my mind's eye, I see myself in solitude on the bluff looking out at the headlands of the rugged California coastline merging into the mist.

"That is a very brilliant thing you have done to capture the complexity of the apple orchard fading into the distance," the voice over my shoulder says around mid-day. 

When I look up, I see Lamar scrutinizing my morning's work. "The flowers are so delicate," I tell him, "So hard to get right. Tomorrow my challenge will be to reproduce in oil what I've sketched." I pause then ask, "How has your morning been, mon cher?" I wait for his reaction.

"Well enough, I suppose. I've read my mail and a couple of newspapers that came with it. What do you say we drive into the village for lunch? I'm ready."

"Can you wait just a few more minutes?"

"Ah, but Emma, I am hungry now."

Guest Post

What would you like to tell readers about yourself?

I'm a writer of historical fiction. I wrote my first historical novel when I was in seventh grade; I imagined myself as a midshipman on Old Ironsides, USS Constitution. Sadly, that novel was never finished. It came to an end when a note came home from my teacher to my mother suggesting I spend more time improving my grammar and punctuation.

 After graduating from college with a degree in English literature, I worked for several advertising agencies in New York City, and my success was always due to my creative writing ability. But the business world and I were not meant for each other. I left the corporate world and became a freelance journalist barely eking out a living for my family, but doing what I enjoy doing most. During that time I wrote several short stories and adventure-oriented novels, but none of them ever saw the light of day.

When I moved to California with my family, naturally I wanted to learn more about California history, and that led to writing Dream Helper, my first serious historical novel. I worked on it in several writers' groups, and received encouragement to try to market it. After receiving something over 100 rejection slips from eastern publishers, I traveled across the country to attend a historical fiction writers' conference. There I met with a New York editor, and pitched my book to her only to have her tell me her company was not interested in publishing western historical fiction. 

On the flight home, I pondered whether to put the manuscript away in my bottom desk drawer or do something else. Ultimately the book received a gold medal for the best western historical fiction from the Independent Book Publishers Association. In fact, Dream Helper has sold more copies than it would have as a traditional first novel from a major publisher. Since then, two other California historical novels, Delfina's Gold and Their Golden Dreams, have followed Dream Helper to form my Chronicles of California trilogy. 

My newest novel, The Girl from the Lighthouse, is a historically based novel set in Paris, France in the 1870s. It traces the life of a young American woman who travels to Paris to study art. Naively, she encounters the social restrictions women of that time faced. They included the rituals of courtship. She lives through the Franco Prussian war, the Paris Commune, and  starts a career of painting with the artists that became known as the Impressionists. 

One of my great pleasures in writing historical fiction has been the bringing together of my fictional characters with real personalities of the time. So in The Girl from the Lighthouse my protagonist, Emma Dobbins, meets Impressionist artists Renoir, Monet, and Degas, and other famous people of the time like Sarah Bernhardt, the actress, and Charles Frederick Worth, the high fashion designer of lady's gowns.

I hope the take away from this for young or just-beginning writers, is to never give up, to listen to the advice of others but to follow their own instincts, while never stopping writing and learning their craft.

About the Author

Willard Thompson is an award-winning historical fiction and romance writer living in Montecito, California with his wife Jo. His newest historical romance, THE GIRL FROM THE LIGHTHOUSE was published in early 2019. His previously published three novels of historical fiction DREAM HELPER DELFINA'S GOLD, and THEIR GOLDEN DREAMS are part of his CHRONICLES OF CALIFORNIA trilogy. The Independent Publishers 2009 Book Awards selected DREAM HELPER for a gold medal as the best fiction in the Western/Pacific Region.

Thompson is a past president of the board of directors of the Santa Barbara Maritime Museum. He is a native of Manhasset, New York and a graduate of Colgate University in Hamilton, New York


Giveaway
Willard Thompson will be awarding a $25 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.
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Tuesday, March 26, 2019

His Secret Love by Anya Summers - Book Blast and Giveaway


This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Anya Summers will be awarding a $15 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Meghan Mallory has a plan for her life and it does not involve falling in love. She doesn’t have the time nor the inclination. She’s too busy trying to save the world. But when a freak snowstorm puts her in the path of a man she has secretly been fascinated with for years, she is forced to reconsider her stance on dating. Spencer is rude and obnoxious with his bad boy swagger but then he rescues her when she gets stranded on the side of the road, like a knight in tarnished armor, and sweeps her away to his house to ride out the blizzard.

Spencer Collins likes his life just fine, thank you very much. As the owner of the lifestyle club Cuffs & Spurs in Jackson Hole, he has a bevy of available subs who are his to command – not that any of them have held his interest in longer than he can remember. When his best friend’s sister-in-law gets herself into trouble, Spencer heads out to rescue the little brat who is in need of a firm hand. But he never expects to be forced to confront the incendiary heat that has always existed between them.

As the storm rages around them, they surrender to a passion hotter than the sun. Now that he has felt her surrender, Spencer attempts to lure Meghan into his world. But will they let go of their pasts or will they allow secrets to destroy them?



Read an Excerpt

“I’m to tell you that your sister is pissed you worried her this way.”

Meghan squelched the ever-present guilt when it came to her sister and sighed. “She always worries. Why aren’t we going to Carter’s? It’s a hell of a lot closer than your place in Jackson.”

She studied his profile, the angular, firm jaw covered with a neatly trimmed black beard.

His gaze was trained on the road as he navigated. The way his big hands—the fingers long and bluntly tipped—kept a firm hold on the wheel made driving in these horrendous conditions appear effortless. “We aren’t going into town. My house is roughly ten minutes from here.” His gruff voice, the deep, rather exasperated, bass slithered along her spine like a caress.

“But I don’t want to stay with you,” she protested. She’d rather be stranded on Hoth or on the U.S.S. Enterprise without power. Plus, she’d been looking forward to a night or two at Casa Jones with lots of yummy food and the chance to hang with her nephew. She was indoctrinating him into her love of pop culture and science with measured success. Then there was also the tiny little fact that the thought of being cooped up with Spencer, alone, made her entire body simmer, and not in anger but anticipation.

“Why? Chicken?” he dared and glanced her way.

Meghan’s heart thudded. Her mouth went dry. And deep down she knew the answer was a resounding yes, not that she would ever admit it. With a deadpan glare, she snorted. “Nope. In your dreams, big guy.”

“Relax. I don’t bite. I have guest rooms you can pick from and we will hardly see each other.”

“Sure. Thanks. I just don’t want to be an inconvenience.” Not just to him but to anyone. Not ever again.

He rolled his shoulders in a manly shrug that was so distinctly bored alpha male, her entire body whimpered with the desire to feel all that strength against her.

And then he opened his mouth. “There are always ways in which you can thank me.”

The innuendo flash-fried her brain, bombarding her with carnal images she wanted to deny. But her body told a far different story. Stupid hormones. Her blood ignited. She pressed her thighs together to squelch the distinct throbbing and felt her nipples bead into hard points. Thank god the parka cloaked and hid her desire. She didn’t want to feel this way about him—or anyone, for that matter.

She cast him a withering stare. “Ew. Thanks, but no. You can let me out right here if this rescue comes with those kinds of strings.”

“Just saying, if you really feel that bad, I can find plenty of chores to keep you occupied.”

“Chores?” She glanced his way. His lips were compressed into a thin line but those midnight eyes of his, the ones she saw in her darkest fantasies, danced with merriment. He was teasing her, the big lug.

“Sure. I could use a maid or a cook.”

She couldn’t help it. Really, the man drove her to it. And perhaps her brain had not yet completely defrosted from her sojourn on the side of the road and then the tawdry images her brain had conjured at his innuendo… Her fist curled of its own accord. She punched him in the arm.

“You’re such a jerk. You had me thinking—”

Before she could retract her left fist, he snatched her wrist. “Careful, brat. Had you thinking what?”

And his dark gaze glittered, bored through her defenses before shifting back to the road.

What did he see? Did he intuit that she was fascinated by him? That the thought of him putting his big hands on her again liquefied her insides? Just the simple contact of his hand gripping her wrist, his thumb pressed against her wildly beating pulse, made her panties wet.

About the Author: Born in St. Louis, Missouri, Anya grew up listening to Cardinals baseball and reading anything she could get her hands on. She remembers her mother saying if only she would read the right type of books instead binging her way through the romance aisles at the bookstore, she’d have been a doctor. While Anya never did get that doctorate, she graduated cum laude from the University of Missouri-St. Louis with an M.A. in History.

Anya is a bestselling and award-winning author published in multiple fiction genres. She also writes urban fantasy and paranormal romance under the name Maggie Mae Gallagher. A total geek at her core, when she is not writing, she adores attending the latest comic con or spending time with her family. She currently lives in the Midwest with her two furry felines.

Visit my website here: http://www.anyasummers.com

Plus, I have an Exclusive Bonus Scene from HIS SECRET LOVE available for a FREE download by subscribing to my newsletter: https://goo.gl/phM786

Website as Maggie Mae Gallagher: http://www.maggiemaegallagher.com/

Visit her on social media:



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Monday, March 25, 2019

Evil Embers by Cristelle Comby - Book Tour and Giveaway



After narrowly preventing the destruction of Cold City, PI Bellamy Vale needs a rest. Or rather, he needs a plain and simple vanilla case—no monsters or otherworldly creatures involved!

When foreign businessman Eli Smith shows up at his doorstep with a thick wallet and a request to find his missing sister, Vale doesn’t think twice before agreeing.

If he’d known body-hopping demons and smoke monsters came attached to this job, however, he might have.



Excerpt

So what if it was mid-February? The way I was feeling that morning, I planned to sleep until New Year came around again. Hells, as far as I was concerned, I earned it ten times over. I put an end to a string of gruesome killings, prevented the apocalypse our former mayor intended for us, and I’d stuck around long enough to clean up the mess she and her minions left behind. All that thinking took out the last bit of energy I had. I closed my eyes, found a way to lie down that didn’t hurt too much, and let sleep throw its soothing blanket over me.

And then someone knocked at the door.

I groaned at the wrong timing but kept my eyes shut. There was no way in Tartarus that I was getting back up again so soon. Whoever it was could get lost.

The knocking came again.

It was more insistent this time. I could hear a sense of urgency to the motion. I forced one eye open and frowned. The sunlight streaming in from the window was too bright for it to be morning and the angle it bounced off the floorboards was all wrong. I opened my second eye and glanced at the clock on the bedside table…Three in the afternoon.

“The hells?” I muttered, wondering where the day went while I shook my head to clear out the cobwebs.

The knock came a third time and I got up, grumbling all the way to the door. I didn’t bother to put clothes on or to tidy myself up before opening it. I was clad only in an old pair of sweatpants with a variety of cuts, bruises, and bandages on full display throughout my upper body. I hadn’t shaved in a week, and I was sure my hair was a sweaty mess of brown locks and dried blood.

Who knows, I thought, maybe the sight of me will convince my uninvited guest to let me get back to my coma.

If the man in the hallway took notice of my state, he didn’t let it show. He was tall and sickly thin under his rumbled three-piece suit. His pale skin provided some severe contrast with the purple bags under his brown eyes. He was somewhere between forty and forty-five. His angular face wasn’t familiar, and my frown deepened.

He looked like a potential client, the I-want-to-know-who-my-wife-is-banging type, but they rarely showed up to my private address unannounced. I made a lot of enemies in my professional career, not all of them on this side of the border, so my business card only listed my cell number.

The suit he wore appeared brand new, but I frowned more as I realized something didn’t add up. I was no fashion expert, but the matching of colors between the vest and shirt was off, brownish orange shirt covered by a purple jacket. Oh, and he wore a tie that matched his jacket…ugh. The light brown shoes were also at odds with the indigo blue pants. And there was the smell on the guy. It wasn’t a garbage smell—I’d been around enough of that over the last month to know it at first whiff—but there was a smoky quality about it that stood out.

I filed the information away for later and looked the man squarely in the eye. “What?” I croaked, my tongue feeling too thick and my mouth too dry.

“Bellamy Vale?” he asked, with an accent that wasn’t from around here…Middle Eastern, maybe?

I jerked my thumb at the bell next to the door. It had my name on it.

The man peered down at it perplexed, then pressed the round button. A shrill ringing shot out of the tiny plastic box above the door, and the sound sent sharp needles dancing through my brain. I winced in pain.

“Yeah—yeah, that’s me.” I rushed the words out, eager to make the noise stop. Damn, but my head was killing me. My odd gentleman caller took his finger off the button to look at me again.

“I need your help,” he said, “to find my sister.”

I needed help too, preferably in the form of another round of painkillers. But that was going to have to wait. I waved my potential new client inside.

Interview

Have you ever had an imaginary friend?

No, not as such. But I have a very vivid imagination, and I like to make up entire worlds in my head. It’s like my personal cinema up here, in 4D and with surround sound. One day, I’m on a pirate ship looking for a treasure and the next I’m deep in space fighting off aliens. Oh, and there’s always a good-looking cast.

Do you have any phobias?

Not a big fan of heights and not that fond of snakes and spiders either. 

Do you listen to music when you're writing?

No, I need peace and quiet. For writing, I like to be alone and in a silent environment. So I often write at home, in the living room or in bed.

Do you ever read your stories out loud?

Yes, often. It’s important to make sure your sentences flow nicely. It also helps to keep the pacing in check. For the main characters, I do the voices. It helps me make sure they “sound right”, as in they’re saying the right words, using the right expressions/idioms.
Tell us about your main character and who inspired him/her.

Bellamy Vale is Death’s PI on a retainer. He’s a good guy, former US Navy, who lost his family a few years ago. That led to some bad decisions and now he’s trying to make it up and to even the scales one case at a time.
I think that’s what I like the most about him; he’s not perfect. He’s flawed like the rest of us, and that’s important in a character. 
I didn’t model him after anyone in particular. But I knew the story I wanted to tell, and that shaped him up. 

About the Author


Cristelle Comby was born and raised in the French-speaking area of Switzerland, on the shores of Lake Geneva, where she still resides.

She attributes to her origins her ever-peaceful nature and her undying love for chocolate. She has a passion for art, which also includes an interest in drawing and acting.

She is the author of the Neve & Egan Cases series, which features an unlikely duo of private detectives in London: Ashford Egan, a blind History professor, and Alexandra Neve, one of his students.

Currently, she is hard at work on her Urban Fantasy series Vale Investigation which chronicles the exploits of Death’s only envoy on Earth, PI Bellamy Vale, in the fictitious town of Cold City, USA.


Twitter : 
Website :
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Giveaway
One randomly chosen winner via rafflecopter will win a $50 Amazon/BN.com gift card.

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Friday, March 22, 2019

Where Sleeping Lies Lie by M. Naidoo - Book Blast and Giveaway


This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. M. Naidoo will be awarding a $15 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

“Two men... two worlds... one desperate promise...”

If Anna had only known how the simple push of a button would turn her life upside down, she would never have pressed ‘Play.’

Just 22 seconds into the recording she’s hit by the realization that, if the voice in the thick German accent is right, she has been living with an unthinkable lie for the past thirty years.

There is only one way to find out: Follow the instruction left by a dead person and head back to Germany, to a life Anna has next to no conscious memory of.

To her surprise, she finds an unexpected ally in Peter, an old childhood friend whose law degree and language skills prove to be more than useful. Besides, he has the most gorgeous blue eyes and the uncanny ability to push Anna's buttons without the slightest effort. At every turn, their search for answers is littered with more lies and revelations.

Anna must ultimately decide whether even the noblest of ends, truly justify the means and whether some secrets should better stay buried.

“Mystery, history, and a twist at every turn. Brilliant characters and prolific storytelling... irresistible!”



Read an Excerpt

"I don't know if I can do this." She took a deep breath, " If I wanna do this…"

"Getting cold feet?"

"Wondering what good could possibly come from this. Does it really matter?" Anna turned to look at Peter, waiting for an answer.

"The truth always matters."

"Spoken like a lawyer again."

"I take this as a compliment. No seriously, that's what you came here for, didn't you?"

Anna nodded. Why did he always have to be right?

"If you don't do this now, you'll kick yourself later. Besides, you can't invite me to the show and drop the curtain before the main act."

"You're right." Anna hated to admit it.

"I know."

Damn! Why couldn't he just accept the fact that she agreed with him? Did he have to rub it in?

"I need to get out," Anna said flatly. The house suddenly felt as if it had shrunk to half its size, making it hard to breathe. Maybe going for a run would help settle her nerves. She was almost at the door when Peter called after her, "Want me to come?"

"I'm okay, thanks." Yet, another lie.


About the Author:

M.Naidoo lives in Northern California with her husband, two daughters, and three dogs. Born and raised in Germany, she was able to draw on a wealth of memories and passed down stories for Where Sleeping Lies Lie.

When she is not in front of her computer, pounding out story lines and characters, she enjoys reading, movies, spending time with her family, and long walks on the beach - her proverbial 'happy place'. M's love for the shore line and ocean shine through in the vivid descriptions of the coast in her debut novel The Pelican.

"Juggling my life as a writer and a full-time 'real' job has its challenges. I don't get to spend half as much time as I'd like doing what I love, and there are never enough hours in the day. Still, I feel extremely lucky to be following my passion, and I am enjoying every minute of it. Getting here has been one heck of a ride!"

Like and follow M. Naidoo on social media


For information about the author, her blog, upcoming releases, and more visit http://www.mnaidoo.com.


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Thursday, March 21, 2019

The Becoming by Lilith Thorn - Book Tour and Giveaway



Niamh is a good wife. She learned early on that crossing her husband had consequences. Living quietly in the shadowed cage he has formed around her, Niamh suffers his secrets and bares the scars they leave behind.

On the night of her biggest humiliation Caleb enters the ballroom changing Niamh’s course forever. He brings safety to her dark world and introduces her to the possibility of escape. Will Niamh’s love for Caleb be the key to her freedom or will it be her undoing?



Excerpt

Chapter Six

I began to remove my clothing, feet first, when I heard the door to the sitting room open. Without hesitation, my guest walked through the room to where I sat. Caleb. I was on my feet immediately, though I had barely taken a step toward him before he had me enveloped in his arms. With both grace and speed, the perfectly made bed and my body collided with Caleb on top.

I was lost to him for what seemed like a moment and forever all at the same time. His hands and my hands both explored the figure opposite them, as if they were making sure the other was really there. Our lips were sealed to one another, tongues exploring as our hands were. My body instinctively pressed itself against his with no desire to be anywhere else. My skirts were bulky, blocking the heat from his body. My corset and Caleb’s weight made it hard to breathe and I was fighting my own instincts to tear into him with every bit of pent up desire that had accumulated since puberty. 

Despite all of this, I was elated. There was nothing outside of this moment, only the feel of his lips pressed against mine, his knees pushing open my thighs to cradle his hips against my skirts, my breasts alive and begging for his touch.

The spell was broken when he pulled his face from mine, his hands searching to find a way under my many skirts.

“No hello?” I panted, smiling. Caleb smiled in return while his fingers made their way to a small patch of flesh at the top of my thighs. His hands hung onto my skin, pulsing, waiting for my permission to explore further.
“Hello.” 

He leaned down to kiss me again, but this time I turned my head away. He didn’t remove his hand from its hiding place, nor did he look hurt, but he paused for a moment waiting for me to tell him to stop. His eyes locked into mine while his fingers slowly circled the flesh they were in possession of, willing to give up this action and move to higher ground if asked to do so.

I did my best to quickly assess what I wanted from him in that moment. There was a strong pull to throw caution to the wind and let him take my virginity right then and there. In fact, my hands had a strong grasp on his buttocks and seemed very unwilling to let go.

With a deep sigh, a reluctant release of his backside and a motion to sit-up, I blurted, “I was going to clean up before I came to find you.” 

Better than the “I think I love you” that was on the tip of my tongue, I supposed.

Caleb rolled off me, allowing me to sit. He perched on the edge of the bed and held his hand out to me. “I can help you with that.” 

There was a devilish grin on his face. While I had called a stop to our encounter this day, we both knew that the days to come would lead to my undoing.

Interview

Do you ever wish you were someone else? Who?

I’ve grown up wishing I was someone else in one way or another. It’s how my characters are created. When I find inspiration, I build my characters by putting myself in their shoes. It’s what led me into acting and has kept me writing, trying to understand what makes a person tick. If that means I have to wear their skin for a bit, I’m happy to take on that challenge.

What did you do on your last birthday?

This birthday was a special one. One of my oldest and best friends has a birthday just a few days away from mine. We also live on opposite sides of the country and see each other only a few hours every year. So, to celebrate our birthday’s we met in Mexico for a week of relaxation, adventure and catch up. It was amazing. I got to knock a cool item off my bucket list as well. We rappelled 60m into a refreshing pool of water in a beautiful cenote. I was really nervous until my guide, in a very authoritative voice told me “You can do this.” I believed him, I had no choice ;) In the end the water wasn’t as cold as I was led to believe and I was amazed at how much control you actually have while rappelling.
  
What part of the writing process do you dread?

The editing processes. I know it’s what all authors dread, but its new to me, at least editing at this length and in this kind of detail. My editor even asked me to rewrite The Becoming word for word as an exercise… reluctantly I did it (my computer ate the first 20 pages as well and had to retype those a second time.) After I finished, I did see the value in the exercise. I was able to find parts that needed work, could be cut and new sections to add…. But it was more than I expected out of the experience.

Do you ever suffer from writer’s block? If so, what do you do about it?

Yes! I’m in the process of starting the next book in Niamh’s story. I’ve started it several times and just can’t find the right way to launch into her new life. In the past music has helped me when I’m blocked. I try to pick something that feels like the mood I’m trying to achieve. But what’s really helping me shape Niamh’s first moments is walking away from the computer and waiting for bed time. In the dark I can close my eyes and relax into an image, that will lead to a scene. Often, I replay and tweak it in my head a few times before sleep comes and keep my fingers crossed that morning will come and the scene will still be intact.

Tell us about your latest release.

The Becoming was born in a moment of turmoil of sorts. My oldest child wasn’t a good sleeper, I used to take her for a walk so she’d nap in the stroller, but when it got too cold to do that I would load her into a carrier and walk her around our living room until she fell asleep. It wasn’t a quick process, so my mind would wander. I’m not sure how the seed to the story came to me, but it developed over days of walking in my living room and lived in my head for months until I was able to find a minute to start putting it on paper. The first draft was a for a blog I write for called Empress Tea. It was published as a story in parts. 

About the Author

Born in Dundas, ON, Lilith Thorn is a restless wanderer. Her first move was to St. Catharines where she earned a Theatre degree at Brock University. Despite her parents’ wish that she would return home and work at McDonalds after graduating, Lilith refused and instead moved to Toronto to give acting the ‘Old College Try.’ After years of sacrificing her other passions for the stage and an empty bank account, she put away those dreams to say “Yes” to a different adventure. This took her to Dublin, Ireland for a few years where she met, fell in love with, and married another Canadian who took her to the one place she said she’d never live: Yellowknife. After nearly a decade in Canada’s Great White North, Lilith looks forward to further adventures with her husband and two children, just about anywhere.

Lilith Thorn is a pen name, the pseudonym used to protect the innocent; that is, so she hopefully never has to explain to her mother-in-law over dinner that she has written an erotic novel.


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Social Media:
Twitter - @liliththorn
Instagram - @byliliththorn
Facebook Page - @liliththornwrites

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Wednesday, March 20, 2019

Derrick by Russell - Book Tour and Giveaway



In Hyde Park, a movie theater erupts in flames on a bitterly cold November evening. 

It seems like a job for the fire department, but under Captain Creighton’s direct orders, Detective Gavin Nolan and his partner, Derrick Williamson, must investigate. Arriving on the chaotic scene, they find multiple fatalities —but one of the victims is most peculiar… 

Gavin soon discovers that this fire wasn’t the first of its kind. The arsonist has set ablaze other buildings around Chicago, and more female victims left in the same gruesome state have been discovered. 

Gavin and Derrick determine that the arsonist is not an arsonist at all—but a sinister serial killer with an agenda.

Juggling the unexpected events in his personal life, Gavin digs into the locations of the explosions. At the same time, Derrick probes into the victims’ lives, searching for any possible connection.  

However, when the next explosion occurs, the killer leaves behind a significant object, and Derrick becomes noticeably reserved. Gavin soon uncovers an enigmatic link, one that points to Derrick’s military past. A time that his partner had wished to forget. Yet, to catch the vicious maniac, Derrick must tell Gavin everything. 

In a suspenseful, gripping ride to the end, it is up to Gavin to rescue his partner from the clutches of a  killer. But will he make it in time?

WARNING: This book contains graphic scenes, explicit language, and violent sexual situations.



Excerpt

“Look at that.” Derrick pointed over to the front rows.

At the fifth and fourth rows in the dead center, several more CSI members were photographing two burnt corpses. The explosion blew back the bodies into a crumpled position on the chairs.

Hopefully they had a quick death. Gavin stayed silent.

Moving on, they reached the exit door near the front of the theater. Another warning from Delanie informed them of the rubble and potential structural damage in the next section. Briefly looking back, Gavin heard the crackling of radios, like eerie ghostly crickets fluttering in the distance. In the opposite direction, three firemen were still containing some smoldering chairs.

“Shit,” Derrick muttered, tapping Gavin’s shoulder. He nodded up.

The once ornate ceiling now had entire sections missing. Squinting slightly, Gavin could see the dark night sky.

Once they passed the doorway, a series of portable lights cascaded over the area. Gavin was unable to decipher the debris, the contents of which were haphazardly pushed away from the clear epicenter near the opposite end of the room. Up above, about a third of the ceiling had disintegrated, leaving a huge hole. The cold wind invaded the space, dissipating the soot scent slightly. More CSI team members shifted diligently, gathering debris in clear evidence bags and marking each spot with photographs and red markers. Near the apparent epicenter of the blast, several firemen were discussing the area, pointing at spots.

“Have to get back to my captain,” the young fireman said. “Need anything else, just let me know.”

“Thanks,” Gavin replied.

“Where the fuck do we begin?” Derrick grumbled.

“You can begin by bringing back that hottie,” Susan said behind them.

Gavin turned to find the doctor kneeling near a shriveled, burnt corpse. Her scalpel gingerly poked and prodded the body’s seared skull.

“Isn’t he too young for you?” Derrick returned with a snarky grin.

Gavin stated, “I didn’t see your van.”

“Came through the back.” She looked up at him and then at Derrick. She added, “As long he’s eighteen-plus, no laws broken, baby.”

Shaking his head, Derrick snickered. One of the CSI team, an annoyed-looking woman whose gray hair probably came directly from her stressful job, shot him a glance.

Standing up and ripping off her plastic gloves, Susan said, “No offense, love you guys, but what the hell are you doing here?”

“Creighton’s orders,” Derrick answered first. His midnight eyes darted over the scene.

Guest Post

What would you like to tell the readers about yourself?

Since I had been young, I always intended to be a writer. Yet, life somehow turned me in another direction. 
For nearly two decades, my real job was as an Executive Chef in the Restaurant Industry. For me, college was both exhilarating and overwhelming. As the semesters wore on, my scholastic path did not have a clear direction. Working as a waiter, I had paid my own way through endless semesters. When my mother had passed away before I turned twenty-one, the shock made me reassess my future and discovered my passion for cooking. Leaving the university life for good, I attended a local community college and received my degree in Culinary Arts. After that point, I became a Sous Chef in a private club, and created high end dishes for the members. When an opportunity arose in Chicago, my wife and I headed down to the Windy City. Once there, I became an Executive Chef for a corporate dining company, which I ran kitchens up to twenty-five people, produced meals for up to a thousand people daily and prepared classic fine dining for CEOs and Presidents of companies. 
Over time, the stress, long hours and demanding general managers took a toll on me, and the taste to cook for the masses slowly lost my appetite. Eventually, my position had been eliminated due to labor cuts and found myself unemployed. I quickly realized having an Associate’s Degree and experience was not enough to qualify for most jobs. I decided then to return to college and finish my Bachelor’s degree. Despite this, I still loved cooking and changed my career path to teach Culinary Arts. (Currently, I teach Culinary skills to a new hungry young chefs.) No matter, the extended time away from the academic realm ignited my juices for knowledge. Thus, I entered Graduate School to earn my Master’s Degree in Sociology. 
However, back in my mind, the longing to be writer gnawed at me. While I read a plethora of books, I imagined myself to be the one to be on the cover and produce a book myself. Despite my busy life as a chef (albeit having children on top of that), I always wrote in the spare small moments of my hectic life. In my twenties, I worked on a story from start to finish which gave me sense of accomplishment. Was it the great novel? Absolutely not! What it did though, the buried manuscript pushed me forward to write The Tale of Old Man Fischer. Unbeknownst to my family, I never shared the fact I was a writer. Consequently, I decided to publish Old Man Fischer. Quite frankly, my family was rather flabbergasted.  While the lessons learned from publishing a book would deter many newbies (such as promoting, always need an editor, ins and outs of social media), this new world opened a fresh start for me. Zenning my inner Chef, I took my own experience in opening cafes and shifted it into the publishing world. Most of all, like creating a new meal, creativity is always first and foremost, but criticism is a necessary evil to create a better dish.  I listened, took notes and moved forward.
Thus, it gave way into GAVIN, which is part of The Gavin Nolan Trilogy. On a side note, I wrote my sophomore novel during Graduate School between the dense dry reading, writing short essays and grinding out my thesis. Even as I wrote GAVIN, I realized the story could not be contained just in one book. (I highly recommend you to read GAVIN before you tackle DERRICK because you will see the natural progression of the story.) About a month after my second draft of GAVIN, DERRICK was conceived. DERRICK is a darker version of Book 1, where I explore the friendship between Gavin and his partner Derrick even more, testing it to the very end. Currently, I’m on the next draft of QUINN--the final part of the Gavin Nolan Trilogy. While the process can be time consuming, I have to comb through GAVIN and DERRICK in order to answer all the outlining questions…or will they all be answered? Hmmm…QUINN will be out Spring 2020. In fact, a preview of QUINN is in DERRICK. 
In meantime, I had written something completely different, a standalone piece, titled The Eradication Initiative. Here’s the premise: A group of seemingly random strangers are being hunted down, captured and brought to an underground facility. Soon the experiments begin. I hoping to have Initiative out late 2020. Currently while editing QUINN, I’ve been plugging away at another piece that is untitled. While I’m about a third into it, the piece is about a ghost story located somewhere in Up State New York. Seriously, I’ve been scaring myself even while writing in the full daylight…yeesh!

Thank you so much for spending some time with me. I do hope you checkout my books GAVIN and now DERRICK. This series is not for the light hearted mystery reader, it contains strong sexual situations, graphic violence and explicative language. If you enjoy that, you will be in a ride for your life.

Read to Escape!

Russell

About the Author


Russell has been writing for the majority of his life. Slipping into alternative universes allows him to enjoy the process of creativity from the novel’s conception to its final draft. Currently, he lives in South Texas with his wife, two kids and several cats.

DERRICK is a 2018 Winner in the New Apple Literary Awards, receiving Official Selection in Psychological Suspense.





Giveaway
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Monday, March 18, 2019

The Next to Last Mistake by Amalie Jahn - Book Blast and Giveaway


This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Amalie Jahn will be awarding a $20 mazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Tess Goodwin’s life in rural Iowa is sheltered and uncomplicated. Although she chooses to spend most of her free time playing chess with her best friend Zander, the farm-boy from next door, her skills as a bovine midwife and tractor mechanic ensure that she fits in with the other kids at East Chester High. But when her veteran father reenlists in the Army, moving her family halfway across the country to North Carolina, Tess is forced out of her comfort zone into a world she knows nothing about.

Tess approaches the move as she would a new game of chess, plotting her course through the unfamiliar reality of her new life. While heeding Zander’s long-distance advice for making new friends and strategizing a means to endure her dad’s imminent deployment to the Middle East, she quickly discovers how ill-equipped she is to navigate the societal challenges she encounters and becomes convinced she’ll never fit in with the students at her new school.

When Leonetta Jackson is assigned as her mentor, she becomes Tess’s unexpected guide through the winding labyrinth of cultural disparities between them, sparking a tentative friendship and challenging Tess to confront her reluctant nature. As the pieces move across the board of her upended life, will Tess find the acceptance she so desperately desires?



Read an Excerpt

They lead us to where a few guys are leaning against the deck rail. Some are smoking, all of them have beers, and the tallest is well over six and a half feet tall. His features are defined: strong brow, prominent cheekbones, full lips. He’s definitely Calvin.

“S’up, bro,” Kevin says to him, bumping fists and shoulders before pointing to me. “This is Tess. She’s from Iowa. She wanted to come say hi.”

I’m concentrating on making my face look casual, like being at a college basketball player’s party is something I do all the time. I can tell, though, by the smile on Calvin’s face I’m failing miserably. He extends his hand.

“Well, hello there, Tess from Iowa.” His voice is deep and smooth and incredibly sexy. I don’t wonder why Alice is obsessed with him.

“Hey,” I squeak as his hand engulfs mine.

“Been here long?”

“About fifteen minutes.”

He chuckles, giving me a wry smile. “I meant have you been here in Fayetteville long?”

I shake my head, feeling like an idiot. “Oh. Only since the first week in January.”

“Must be some change, Iowa to Fayetteville.”

I nod, unable to summon the power of speech much less a cohesive thought. Suddenly, I remember Alice. I remember I’m supposed to be breaking the ice for her, talking her up so he’ll want to get to know her better. I’m supposed to be playing the matchmaker.

I turn to make the introductions. “These are my friends, Summer and Leonetta and Alice. They’re not from Iowa.”

He nods at them, laughing affably at the stupidity of what I’ve said. Then he says to Alice, “I remember seeing you around Hopkins my senior year. You still there?”

Alice is visibly shivering in her form-fitting dress but manages to respond in the affirmative. Noticing how cold she is, Marcus slips off his own jacket, draping it around her shoulders.

“Thanks,” she says.

There’s an awkward moment of silence between us and everything seems to stop. It reminds me of when I was little, of the quiet numbness associated with slipping my head under the water during a bath. The constant thrum of the bass and the singing and laughter from inside fade away. Now all I can hear is the beating of my own heart.

I can’t believe I’ve just blown it for Alice. Or then again, maybe I can.

“It’s cold so I’m gonna go back inside,” I announce, pulling my sleeves down over my hands. “It’s nice to meet you, Calvin. Thanks for, uh, throwing such a great party.” I pivot on my heel and head straight for the door, convinced Alice, and possibly Summer as well, will never speak to me again.

About the Author:

Amalie Jahn is a USA TODAY bestselling author of more than 8 young adult novels, including The Next To Last Mistake, her latest release (Light Messages Publishing 2019). Amalie is the recipient of the Literary Classics Seal of Approval and the Readers' Favorite Gold Medal for her debut novel, The Clay Lion. She is a contributing blogger with the Huffington Post and Southern Writers Magazine, as well as a TED speaker, human rights advocate, and active promoter of kindness. She lives in the United States with her husband, two children, and three overfed cats.

When she's not at the computer coaxing characters into submission, you can find Amalie swimming laps, cycling, or running on the treadmill, probably training for her next triathlon. She hates pairing socks and loves avocados. She is also very happy time travel does not yet exist. Connect with her right here in the present day at these social media sites:





Visit http://www.amaliejahn.com to join Amalie’s FREE Readers Group and in addition to receiving promotional discounts, sneak peeks, and monthly newsletters, your membership will now grant you exclusive access to bonus material (shorts and novelettes) delivered right to your inbox!


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