Debra L. Martin's Blog, page 57
September 9, 2020
#Excerpt: SHE'S THE ONE WHO THINKS TOO MUCH by S.R. Cronin

Ryalgar, a spinster farm girl and the oldest of seven, has always preferred her studies to flirtation, yet even she finally meets her prince. Or so she thinks, until she discovers he’s already betrothed. Embarrassed, she flees her family’s farm to join the Velka, the mysterious women of the forest known for their magical powers and for living apart from men.
As a Velka, she develops her telekinesis and learns she has a talent for analyzing information. Both are going to come in handy. For she’s continued to meet her prince at the forest’s edge, thinking being his mistress isn’t such a bad deal. Then she learns more about his princely assignment. He’s tasked with training the army of Ilari to repel the feared Mongol horseman who’ve been moving eastward for years, killing all in their path. And, her prince is willing to sacrifice the outer farmlands where she grew up to these invaders, if he has to.
Ryalgar isn’t about to let that happen.
She’s got the Velka behind her now, as well as a multitude of university intellectuals, a family of tough farmers, and six sisters each with her own unique personality and talents.
Can Ryalgar organize all that into a resistance that will stop the Mongols? She thinks she can.
Buy link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08BY4RLX1

EXCERPT:
My father was sad to see me go; I’d been his helper. But I could also tell he was proud of me, and glad to see me forge a relationship with his kin. He may also have been a bit relieved he no longer had to worry about a spinster daughter. Actually, they were probably all relieved about that.
As he hugged me, he added one more reason he was glad to see me go. One I hadn’t thought of.
“Surely your prince has mentioned the preparations for war being made in Pilk?”
“He has.”
“Scary business, these thieving horsemen,” he said. “I take comfort knowing one of my children will be hidden in the forest, far from harm. Stay safe in your new home.”
“I promise I will.” When I said it to him, I meant it.
Less than an ank later, I said one last goodbye to my mother, then rode my horse to the edge of the forest with my father and my sisters. The hardest part was handing the reigns of my mare over to my father, so he could lead her back home.
I’d been told the Velka would meet me inside, and to bring little with me. I donned the backpack holding the things I couldn’t part with, waved goodbye to my family, and stepped in between the trees to see what would happen next.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUTHOR Bio and Links:

She’s made a lot of stops along the way to writing these novels. She’s lived in seven cities, visited forty-six countries, and worked as a waitress, technical writer, and geophysicist. Now she answers a hot-line. Along the way, she’s lost several cats but acquired a husband who still loves her and three kids who’ve grown up just fine, both despite how odd she is.
All her life she has wanted to either tell these kinds of stories or be Chief Science Officer on the Starship Enterprise. She now lives and writes in the mountains of Western North Carolina, where she admits to occasionally checking her phone for a message from Captain Picard, just in case.
Author Social Media Links:
Twitter: https://twitter.com/cinnabar01 Facebook: www.facebook.com/Number46AscendingGoodreads: www.goodreads.com/author/show/5805814.Sherrie_CroninAmazon: www.amazon.com/Sherrie-Cronin/e/B007FRMO9QAuthor Blog: https://sherriecronin.xyz/Book Series Blog: https://troublesome7sisters.xyz/
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Published on September 09, 2020 01:00
#Excerpt: SHE'S THE ONE WHO THINKS TOO MUCH by S.R. Cronin

Ryalgar, a spinster farm girl and the oldest of seven, has always preferred her studies to flirtation, yet even she finally meets her prince. Or so she thinks, until she discovers he’s already betrothed. Embarrassed, she flees her family’s farm to join the Velka, the mysterious women of the forest known for their magical powers and for living apart from men.
As a Velka, she develops her telekinesis and learns she has a talent for analyzing information. Both are going to come in handy. For she’s continued to meet her prince at the forest’s edge, thinking being his mistress isn’t such a bad deal. Then she learns more about his princely assignment. He’s tasked with training the army of Ilari to repel the feared Mongol horseman who’ve been moving eastward for years, killing all in their path. And, her prince is willing to sacrifice the outer farmlands where she grew up to these invaders, if he has to.
Ryalgar isn’t about to let that happen.
She’s got the Velka behind her now, as well as a multitude of university intellectuals, a family of tough farmers, and six sisters each with her own unique personality and talents.
Can Ryalgar organize all that into a resistance that will stop the Mongols? She thinks she can.
Buy link: https://www.amazon.com/dp/B08BY4RLX1

EXCERPT:
My father was sad to see me go; I’d been his helper. But I could also tell he was proud of me, and glad to see me forge a relationship with his kin. He may also have been a bit relieved he no longer had to worry about a spinster daughter. Actually, they were probably all relieved about that.
As he hugged me, he added one more reason he was glad to see me go. One I hadn’t thought of.
“Surely your prince has mentioned the preparations for war being made in Pilk?”
“He has.”
“Scary business, these thieving horsemen,” he said. “I take comfort knowing one of my children will be hidden in the forest, far from harm. Stay safe in your new home.”
“I promise I will.” When I said it to him, I meant it.
Less than an ank later, I said one last goodbye to my mother, then rode my horse to the edge of the forest with my father and my sisters. The hardest part was handing the reigns of my mare over to my father, so he could lead her back home.
I’d been told the Velka would meet me inside, and to bring little with me. I donned the backpack holding the things I couldn’t part with, waved goodbye to my family, and stepped in between the trees to see what would happen next.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUTHOR Bio and Links:

She’s made a lot of stops along the way to writing these novels. She’s lived in seven cities, visited forty-six countries, and worked as a waitress, technical writer, and geophysicist. Now she answers a hot-line. Along the way, she’s lost several cats but acquired a husband who still loves her and three kids who’ve grown up just fine, both despite how odd she is.
All her life she has wanted to either tell these kinds of stories or be Chief Science Officer on the Starship Enterprise. She now lives and writes in the mountains of Western North Carolina, where she admits to occasionally checking her phone for a message from Captain Picard, just in case.
Author Social Media Links:
Twitter: https://twitter.com/cinnabar01 Facebook: www.facebook.com/Number46AscendingGoodreads: www.goodreads.com/author/show/5805814.Sherrie_CroninAmazon: www.amazon.com/Sherrie-Cronin/e/B007FRMO9QAuthor Blog: https://sherriecronin.xyz/Book Series Blog: https://troublesome7sisters.xyz/
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Published on September 09, 2020 01:00
September 8, 2020
#Review: THE HIGHLANDER'S EXCELLENT ADVENTURE by Shana Galen


I'm a fan of Ms. Galen and this book is my absolute favorite of the Survivors series. I adored Stratford. He was so honorable and tries so hard to do the right thing. I was glad his romance with Emmeline was given equal time in this book. Two romances in one--Ms. Galen pulls them both off so well with two fun and feisty heroines and two swoon worth heroes. Each hero has their own doubts and flaws and that just makes them all the more likable. While this book is part of a series, it can be read as a standalone without too much confusion. Highly recommended.
I voluntarily read an advanced reader copy and all opinions are my own.<!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Arial; panose-1:2 11 6 4 2 2 2 2 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;}</style><br /><div class="MsoNormal"><div style="text-align: center;"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "arial";"> ********************************************</span></b></div><br /><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "arial";">Blurb:</span></b></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "arial";">Just because they’ve run away…</span></b><span style="font-family: "arial";"><br />Ines Neves and Emmeline Wellesley have both run away. Ines hid in a carriage from a tedious suitor, only to find, too late, the carriage had traveled out of London, not just around the block. To make matters worse, the carriage is that of a stranger: a handsome Highlander. Or perhaps a big, strapping Highlander makes matters better? Emmeline Wellesley has had four Seasons and cannot tolerate another. To force her mother to listen to her, she’s run away. But things haven’t gone well. She’s been locked in a closet, had all her money stolen, and somehow adopted a dog. When an old family friend shows up to save her, she doesn’t exactly welcome his help.<br /><br /><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;">Doesn’t mean they don’t want to be found.</b><br />Duncan Murray doesn’t know what to make of the Portuguese-speaking woman in his carriage. She refuses to return to London, so he takes her to meet Nash Pope, a so-called friend who speaks Portuguese. On the way, he meets up with former soldier Stratford Fortescue, and Stratford’s opinionated distant cousin, Miss Wellesley. The four travel together to Nash’s estate, and that’s when everything goes really wrong. On the run to Scotland, Duncan finds himself increasingly attracted to Ines, even though he knows he can never marry her. Stratford has always wanted Emmeline, but his family secret means he doesn’t deserve her. This excellent adventure might bring the couples together, but only if they manage to elude gun shots, a murderous brother-in-law, a vicious dog, and outlaws.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"> <br /><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Amz: <a href="https://amzn.to/2XxpcTO">http... class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">BN: <a href="https://bit.ly/GalenHighlander"&... class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">iBooks: <a href="https://bit.ly/ExcellentHighlander&qu... class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Kobo: <a href="https://bit.ly/HighlanderAdventure&qu... class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Print: Coming September 8th</span></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"><style>\<!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Arial; panose-1:2 11 6 4 2 2 2 2 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";} a:link, span.MsoHyperlink {color:blue; text-decoration:underline; text-underline:single;} a:visited, span.MsoHyperlinkFollowed {mso-style-noshow:yes; color:#954F72; text-decoration:underline; text-underline:single;}size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;}</style><br /><br /><span style="font-family: "arial";">Other Survivor books:</span><br /><span style="font-family: "arial";"><a href="https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07... </a></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "arial";">Excerpt:</span></b><br /><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "arial";"> </span></b><br /><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">A few moments later, the coach slowed, and Mr. Fortescue opened the door and jumped out. No one emerged from the house to greet them and after Murray exited the coach, the coachman called down, “Are you sure this is where you wanted to go?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">“This is Wentmore,” Murray said. Then he looked back at the women. “Stay here while we go inside and do a wee bit of reconnaissance.” He started away.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Emmeline turned to Ines. “This looks worse than I imagined.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">“It doesn’t appear anyone lives here,” Ines murmured.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">“Or if someone does, he does not welcome visitors.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Just then a crash echoed from inside the house, and the women exchanged worried looks. The crash was followed by the sound of raised male voices. Then the door banged open and Murray flew out. When he turned to look at the coach, blood ran down the side of his cheek.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">“<i>Caramba</i>!” Ines said. She jumped out of the coach, but Murray had already gained his feet and was running back into the house. The door closed behind him. Miss Wellesley joined Ines on the weed-filled drive, and they listened to more shouts and then the sound of a rifle or pistol firing.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">“I’ve had enough of this,” the coachman said. He jumped from the box, untied the trunk and various boxes strapped to the back of the coach, and dumped them on the ground.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">“You can’t leave us here,” Emmeline argued.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">“Oh, yes, I can. I agreed to drive the man to Scotland. I didn’t agree to this.” He jumped back on the box, called to the horses, and drove away before the women could say another word.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Ines watched the coach disappear around a bend in the road. “I don’t know whether to be terrified or thrilled.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">“I feel a bit of both. Should we go inside and tell them?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Another crash made both women jump. “Perhaps not quite yet,” Ines said.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">The door burst open again, and this time Murray fell out. He clutched his arm, blood seeping through his hand. Ines gasped, and he held up the bloody hand. “Dinnae fash, lass. It’s a scratch.” Then he winced and sank to his knees. Ines ran to him and put her arm around him to steady him.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">“Is it your arm?” she asked, though she already knew. Her head was spinning and panic seeped in.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">“Aye.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">“What happened?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">“The bastard shot me.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Ines gasped then stared at him in stunned silence. Emmeline was not so passive. She looked at Ines and Murray then seemed to make a decision. She straightened her shoulders and stomped past them. “This has gone on long enough.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">“Dinnae go in there, lass!” Murray called. But she ignored him and opened the door then closed it after her. Murray looked at Ines, who suddenly realized she had no idea what to do next. She’d never seen a pistol ball wound before. She had no idea how to treat it or help Murray. She just knew she could not allow him to die. He stared down at her for another moment, and she became increasingly aware of the warmth of his body and that her arms were wrapped around it. She should let go, but she needed to steady him. Or perhaps she needed him to steady her.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">“Did that scratch on my heid damage my brain, or did ye speak tae me in English?”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">Ines opened her mouth, but it was too late. As Catarina always said, Ines’s face was an open book, and Murray had read the writing there. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">“So ye <i>do</i> speak English.”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">“I—” But what excuse could she give?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: 150%; text-indent: .5in;"><span style="font-family: Arial;">He held up a finger, cutting off her stuttering reply. “We’ll talk aboot it later. Right now, I need tae fall over.” And he did, taking her with him.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div style="text-align: center;"> **********************************************</div><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "arial";"><style><!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Arial; panose-1:2 11 6 4 2 2 2 2 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-fareast-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman";}size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.0in 1.0in 1.0in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;}</style> </span></b><br /><b style="mso-bidi-font-weight: normal;"><span style="font-family: "arial";">Author bio:</span></b></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-feTmV2kZk4..." imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="230" data-original-width="230" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-feTmV2kZk4..." /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "arial";">Shana Galen is three-time Rita award nominee and the bestselling author of fast-paced, witty, and adventurous Regency romances. Kirkus says of her books, "The road to happily-ever-after is intense, conflicted, suspenseful and fun," and RT Bookreviews calls her books "lighthearted yet poignant, humorous yet touching." </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "arial";">She taught English at the middle and high school level off and on for eleven years. Most of those years were spent working in Houston's inner city. Now she writes full time. She's happily married and has a daughter who is most definitely a romance heroine in the making.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ygPtJ-pvnf..." imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="203" data-original-width="270" height="150" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ygPtJ-pvnf..." width="200" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br /></div><br /><style><!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Arial; panose-1:2 11 6 4 2 2 2 2 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} a:link, span.MsoHyperlink {mso-style-noshow:yes; color:blue; text-decoration:underline; text-underline:single;} a:visited, span.MsoHyperlinkFollowed {mso-style-noshow:yes; color:purple; text-decoration:underline; text-underline:single;}size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;}</style><br /><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TwoEnd..." height="1" width="1" alt=""/>
Published on September 08, 2020 05:00
September 7, 2020
#Excerpt: REVVED TO THE MAXX by Melanie Moreland


Revved To The Maxx
Melanie Moreland
Publication date: September 3rd 2020
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
Maxx Reynolds needs help.
His shop, house, and life are all in a state of disarray.
In desperation, he turns to the internet to hire a new employee,
thinking it will make his life easier
What he expects is a fellow named Charly.
What he gets is a quirky, sassy, red-head named
Charlynn who runs circles around him.
And she’s all woman.Goodreads / Amazon—
He can’t stand her.
He can’t keep his hands off her either.
EXCERPT:On Monday, I carried a sandwich into the garage, setting it on the workbench. It had been a hectic morning, and I’d barely had time to talk to Maxx at all. At one point he’d received a call that he’d walked outside to take, and when he came back, his glower was deeper than usual. I knew better than to ask him about it, though. Instead, I stayed busy.
Maxx was talking to a customer as I went by. He was busy with his hands as he worked on a nice-looking Yamaha. But he glanced up, and I offered him a smile. “Your lunch, boss man, whenever you’re hungry.”
He nodded, his attention on the man he was talking to. The man chuckled. “Wow—she’s good. You get lunch?”
Maxx made a low noise, and the customer stepped forward, his hand outstretched. “Cam.”
I shook his hand. “Charly.”
“Pleasure.” He indicated Maxx. “You’re far cuter than this lug. You smile too.”
I had to laugh. “It’s part of the service now.”
“What else is included?” Cam teased.
“I want those numbers this afternoon, Charly,” Maxx snapped. “Stop flirting and get to work.”
Cam threw back his head in amusement. “I hope you get paid well for putting up with the attitude.”
“I think Maxx considers that one of the perks.”
Cam chuckled and looked at Maxx. “I like this one.”
Maxx snorted. Like a real blow the air through your nose and huff at the same time sort of snort. He glared at Cam. “Hands off my staff. I have a firm no mixing business with pleasure policy. Charly can’t date my customers.”
I managed to hide my surprise at his words. He had never mentioned anything of the sort. And I highly doubted Cam was looking for a date. His tone was teasing and friendly but not personal. He didn’t look remotely interested in me. His next words confirmed that.
Cam frowned. “My wife will be happy to hear that, Maxx. Relax. I was just being nice.” He eyed him. “You might want to try it.”
“I’m plenty nice.”
I had to turn and walk away to stop my laughter. Cam spoke again. “Back to the event. You have to go, Maxx.”
“I can’t. I’m booked solid.”
“Can’t you put it off?”
“No. I can’t just close the garage, Cam.”
“It’s an amazing opportunity.”
My steps faltered. What opportunity?
“I guess it’s one I will simply have to say no to.”
Cam huffed and called my name. “Charly!”
“Um, yes?”
“Can you reschedule your boss here so he can be gone for a while?”
I met Maxx’s expression. It was filled with warning, intense and dark. Telling me not to speak.
I decided to push back a little. I was tired of being quiet. “I can check.”
Cam smirked and crossed his arms. “Great.”

Author Bio:
NYT/WSJ/USAT international bestselling author Melanie Moreland, lives a happy and content life in a quiet area of Ontario with her beloved husband of thirty-plus years and their rescue cat, Amber. Nothing means more to her than her friends and family, and she cherishes every moment spent with them.
While seriously addicted to coffee, and highly challenged with all things computer-related and technical, she relishes baking, cooking, and trying new recipes for people to sample. She loves to throw dinner parties, and also enjoys traveling, here and abroad, but finds coming home is always the best part of any trip.
Melanie loves stories, especially paired with a good wine, and enjoys skydiving (free falling over a fleck of dust) extreme snowboarding (falling down stairs) and piloting her own helicopter (tripping over her own feet.) She's learned happily ever afters, even bumpy ones, are all in how you tell the story.
Melanie is represented by Flavia Viotti at Bookcase Literary Agency. For any questions regarding subsidiary or translation rights please contact her at flavia@bookcaseagency.com
Website / Goodreads / Facebook Page / Facebook Group / Twitter / Instagram / Newsletter / Bookbub
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Published on September 07, 2020 05:00
September 4, 2020
#Excerpt: ESCAPE by Deana Birch


Escape
Deana Birch
(The Covington Heights Crew #1)
Publication date: September 1st 2020
Genres: Adult, Romance, Suspense
FROM POPULAR ROMANCE AUTHOR DEANA BIRCH
Book one in The Covington Heights Crew series
The only thing she has to give is exactly what they want.
The Covington Heights Crew has a funny way of protecting their own. With rapes from rival gangs and human trafficking riddling their poverty-stricken streets, they’ll keep the girls from their neighborhood safe—for a price. No money? No worries. They have quite creative payment plans.
Messed up? Yeah, they know.
They’re criminals.
Twenty-one-year-old Fiona Thompson was happy to stay off the radar of the twisted drug dealers who encourage her mother’s habit. She’s sure that she can work her way out of Covington and find a better life for herself and her baby sister. But then she beeped. Loud.
Second-in-command Leo Ricci is a poser. The web of lies he’s spun for a life unravels every time he’s around Fiona—every day he’s trying to keep her safe and every second he’s avoiding his destiny.
When his missteps challenge the authority to which he’s pledged his allegiance and Fiona’s life is at stake, there’s only one solution—become the man he never wanted to be and leave the place that was saving him from a worse, but unavoidable fate.Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo—
EXCERPT:Fiona
The dark gray grime around the rim of the tub would not go away, no matter how hard I scrubbed. I flipped my long ponytail over my shoulder and sprayed the foaming cleaner into the corner where tile met porcelain. While my efforts would bear no fruit, I couldn’t stop. If I could just make our dirty apartment shine, there had to be hope for our lives.
The baby whimpered then wailed from her crib in the back bedroom, and I stored the worn-down green sponge and the bottle that promised gleaming effects on top of the medicine cabinet, rinsed my hands in the sink and went to tend to Violet.
Her sobs quickly morphed into coos once she was in my arms and I’d shushed her with an easy bounce and kiss on her sweaty head. Even though she could walk, I carried her to the kitchen, and I wasn’t surprised to see that my mother had not left any milk. After a diaper change—at least we had those—I packed Violet into her wobbly stroller and rode the slow, rickety elevator down to the ground floor of our apartment building. The florescent light flickered over the beat-up metal mailboxes as we crossed the depressing lobby.
The sun shone bright and blinded me for a quick second. The weather had two gears, hot or storms. And while the storms were a relief from the heat, the wind and rain that came with them didn’t make running errands easy. I navigated the stroller through the cracking cement of the courtyard, careful not to step on anything sharp or deadly with my flimsy sandals.
Predictably, the Covington Heights crew were huddled around their bench across from the run-down park—all in their signature black jeans, which must have been torture in the heat. In three months, their numbers had doubled and I was sure it could officially be considered a gang. I recognized a couple of them from their lives before they’d decided to become delinquents. I was even sure the tallest one had been a star basketball player in his day. And, while their matching pants unified them, the physical similarities stopped there. Blonds, shaven heads, dark hair in a man bun… They were all different in race and creed.
Internal groan. I was brewing a perfect stew of resentment, hate and disgust for those fuckers—and maybe just a pinch of lust. Ripped asshats. They were like a calendar spread for hot bad boys.
Their business was an endless supply of drugs that fed my mother’s meth habit, and groupies drooled around them like they were rock stars. Gross.
But they were also an anomaly. As long as you called Covington Heights home, they kept you safe, client or not. And for that, I gave them my respect.
Maybe it had been my odd hours that had kept me off their radar—the sole benefit of working the night shift. Not to mention, the maid’s smock and comfortable shoes I had to wear to work hadn’t done much to make me stand out. Or perhaps I was just too old for their tastes. Their female hangers-on didn’t exactly look over eighteen—not that it was any of my business. And not that I had been paying attention.
But the whispers I had heard about them weren’t all horrible. Girls had sworn they were harmless, a notion I couldn’t quite swallow with their primary source of income.
Violet sucked her thumb in the stroller below me. I lowered my head and picked up my pace to pass by the group of drug-dealing male models.
“Hey, little mama,” a dark-haired guy with a black tank top over his muscled chest called. “Where you been hiding?”
Great. I’d officially bleeped on their screen. Fuck.
I let out a slow breath before turning with a wry smile. “Been here all my life, big boy.” And a big boy he was. He had almost a head on me. It was best to ignore his olive skin and dark inviting eyes below thick brows. I kept walking.
“Hey!” Black Tank Muscle Man stepped in front of the stroller and my breath hitched.
I met his gaze, and even though my spine was like an iron rod, I softened. “I’m just trying to get some milk. I don’t want any trouble.” And I certainly wasn’t interested in being their customer. With my thumbs hooked on the handle and a hopeful smile, I opened the rest of my fingers in a small surrender then clasped the stroller again.
Black Tank’s eyes traveled the length of my body and he licked his plump lips that looked like the softest thing on him. Jesus, he dripped danger and sex at the same time. Those two ingredients should not be allowed to mix.
He jutted his clean-shaven chin toward the stroller. “This your baby?”
I should have lied. Single moms were probably less appealing to someone like him, but for whatever reason—maybe fear of being caught by one of the crew that did know me—I told him the truth. “It’s my sister. Please let us pass. She needs her milk.”
He stood his ground, staring at me for a long beat. I couldn’t tell if he was mind- or eye-fucking me. But there was nothing pure about the vibes he was sending, of that I was sure. A lump grew in my throat and I wouldn’t allow myself to try to swallow past it. I was a girl who’d grown up in the projects. I knew damn well that if you gave an inch to a bully, they would take a whole damn mile.
After one more glance at my chest, which made me hate the boob fairy who’d given me D cups, he stepped to the side. The tension from my back released and I pushed Violet to the deli. There wasn’t a doubt in my mind that those foreboding, dark eyes followed me the whole way.
On the return trip, his electric, wicked energy stalked me, haunted my every step. Yeah, I was officially on the radar and had no idea why or how to disappear from it. It was only once I’d closed the door to our apartment on the seventh floor, gotten Violet her milk and turned on her favorite program that I allowed myself to shudder in the corner of our tattered brown couch.
What was worse was that I couldn’t make heads or tails of it. The hard truth was that I’d liked his attention, even though I was sure I hated him and all he stood for. At least I wasn’t stupid enough to trust him. But, to be fair, I didn’t trust anyone—an addict for a parent could do that to a girl—and, yeah, Black Tank certainly did not have take-you-out-to-dinner-and-buy-you-flowers ideas forming in his beautifully dark eyes.
I made Violet a peanut butter sandwich with our last two pieces of bread and cut an apple that we shared as I ate instant oatmeal. While the clock ticked closer and closer to when I needed to leave for work, it came—the instinctual awareness that my mom would be late coming home, again. And therefore I would be late for work, again.
I cleaned the small mess we’d made from eating—I didn’t think what I’d done could qualify as cooking—and I sat with my uniform on, ready to bolt out of the door, as I assumed the too-familiar position of waiting for my mother to get home.
Over the years it had been a sad and constant element of my life. When she was late, I usually knew why, and I was sure that this time would be no different. The door finally opened thirty minutes after I’d needed to leave and her skinny, fidgeting frame walked through. Every ounce of my being hated leaving Violet with my mom while she was high, but if I didn’t work, we would be worse off than we already were, and I didn’t want to imagine what that might look like.
My mom ignored me and went straight to the kitchen, where she took out a glass and filled it from the tap.
Fighting with her, high or sober, was a battle I’d surrendered to in high school, so I hid my sigh and stood.
In the calmest voice I could muster, I asked, “Can I have the phone, please? I need to let work know I’m running late.”
She darted her bloodshot eyes around the room, looking anywhere but at me. As she twisted her lips, I understood that the phone was gone—either lost, stolen or sold. Great.
“Right,” I said with a knowing nod. “I’ll be back for breakfast.”
Her guilty conscience must have been keeping her from both eye contact and speaking, because she turned her back to me and drank the rest of her water. I hurried out of the door and flew down the seven flights of stairs instead of waiting for the elevator. It was all I could do not to run through the courtyard and down the three streets to the subway station, where I was lucky enough to catch a train, my heart still thumping in my chest.
At the stop in Midtown that led to the hotel where I worked, I bolted up the stairs, retying my long hair into a tighter ponytail as I went. I entered the side door in the alley for employees and hauled ass down the stairs to the locker room where we kept our personal belongings.
The cold LED lighting was a bright contrast to the dark basement, and I had to blink several times to adjust my eyes. But once I’d focused, I saw my supervisor sitting on the bench in front of the row of mint green metal lockers.
Fuck.
“Fiona.” He crossed his arms and frowned. Sweat puddled around his thinning blond hair. Carrying around his massive stomach must have been a lot of work.
“I know.” I brought my hands together in a plea and slumped. “I’m so sorry. I’d love to say it won’t happen again, but my mom—”
He held up his chubby hand that looked more like a ball of dough with five short, fat sausages sticking out of it. “You’re fired.”
My chest contracted at the loss of oxygen.
“No, no, no, no, no. Please.” I needed to make him understand. Me losing that job wasn’t just a paycheck. It was our livelihood. The government didn’t hand out checks to addicts anymore. The only thing we had for security was the shitty apartment, because no one in their right mind would want to live in our neighborhood.
A neighborhood where the police rarely made an appearance… A neighborhood where criminals ruled with wicked eyes, iron fists and where they openly exploited the addictions of their own… Where girls gave up hope of leaving and settled into worshiping drug dealers because instant gratification was more attainable than a long-term plan…
No. I needed this job. I had a fucking dream. Get the fuck out of Covington Heights. Roly Poly on the bench in front of me did not understand what he was doing to me and my sister.
“Mr. Hansen…please.” There was no need to fake the tears streaming down my face and I hoped my trembling bottom lip would show him how desperate I was. I tapped my fingers on my cheeks as I searched his mole-like eyes for any hint of sympathy. There was none.
“I’m sorry, Fiona. If I can’t keep my cleaners in line then it’s me without a job. I’ve been warned about being too lenient. I can’t stick my neck out on the line for you or anybody else. It’s nothing personal.”
For him, maybe. For me, it was everything.

Author Bio:
Contemporary romance and erotica writer Deana Birch was named after her father's first love, who just so happened not to be her mother. Born and raised in the Midwest, she made stops in Los Angeles and New York before settling in Europe where she lives with her own blue-eyed Happily Ever After.
Her days are spent teaching yoga, playing tennis, ruining her children's French homework, cleaning up dog vomit, writing her next book, or reading someone else's.
Website / Goodreads / Facebook / Twitter / Instagram
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Published on September 04, 2020 05:00
#Review: DAWN WITH A DUKE by Erica Ridley


I love this series! The latest books features Calvin McAlistair, a talented tailor, and Lady Isabelle, daughter of a duke. Calvin is working toward a dream of having the duke invest in his ready-made clothing line. Lady Isabelle has been drilled over and over that her reputation is her most precious commodity. When a snowstorm traps both Calvin and Isabelle, they soon learn that everyone needs a champion to believe in them. Is there a world where a commoner and a lady can find true love?
Calvin was such a good and honorable hero who had his own insecurities to overcome. He's terribly awkward with people, but when Isabelle enlists his help to button and unbutton her gowns while her maid is in the sickroom, he becomes comfortable with the beauty. For the first time in her life, someone is seeing the real person instead of her rank. When Calvin agrees to let her to paint his illustrations, Isabelle is overcome with emotion that someone believes she is a talented painter. I felt bad for Isabelle especially the way her family treated her as an object instead of a young woman. That was the way of the ton in that era and I was so glad when Isabelle finally stood up for herself. Ms. Ridley writes such compelling characters and I'm looking forward to the next book in the series.
I voluntarily read an advanced reader copy and all opinions are my own.

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Published on September 04, 2020 05:00
September 2, 2020
#Excerpt: RELENTLESS HABIT by Karen Renee


Relentless Habit
Karen Renee
(O-Town, #1)
Publication date: September 1st 2020
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance
Cecilia
I moved to Orlando for a fresh start. Nobody could know my secret.
Catching the attention of the hottest DJ in all of Orlando wasn’t in the plan. He’s got moves, and they’re not just good. They are good. Like the beats he spins in the booth, I fall fast for him and his crazy family. When he finds out about my past, it won’t just break my heart but also crush my soul.
Brock
The third time I saw her at a crowded club, I had to have her.
After our first kiss, I knew she was a habit I would never want to break. Knowing what she hid from me reinforces what I’ve known for so long.
Women cannot be trusted. Even knowing the worst, I can’t stay away from her. But when push comes to shove, will I be able to keep her safe?Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo / Smashwords / Angus & Robertson—
EXCERPT:Backing me up to the brick wall, he stood directly in my space. “What’s wrong, Cecilia?”
His earnest eyes demanded an answer. “Nothing. Truly. Let’s just get done, then—”
Earnest gave way to incredulous. “‘Get done?’ You trying to get done with me?”
“I’m not good enough for you,” I admitted.
He shook his head. “That sounds like a load of bullshit. How would you know who’s good enough for me or not?
I knew it wasn’t me. Mainly because in the few minutes I’d sat in the living room waiting with Warren, I noticed a few text books about Criminal Law. While Gabe and Warren were talking at the table, it became clear Gabe had yet to declare a major, which meant those text books belonged to Brock. How could a girl like me, a former criminal – even if I hadn’t been convicted or arrested – be good enough for a man like him? I couldn’t. He needed a good girl, and that would never be me.
“I just know that I’m not that girl.”
“There’s something you’re not telling me.”
My eyes widened. “No joke! The first time we shared more than five words was ten hours ago. There’s plenty I haven’t told you and that you don’t know about me. I just—”
“This is done,” he said, as he lowered his head and kissed me quiet.
It was a helluva kiss, and it surprised me. All of the kisses we had had been out of the park, but this one contained more passion because both of us were irritated. He slanted his head and it seemed like he dragged his upper teeth across my bottom lip on purpose. Something inside me snapped. I drove my fingers into his hair and surged up on my toes. His arms wrapped around my waist, yanking me to his hard body.
My breasts were swelling and a throb built between my legs. I tried to break free from him, but he came after me, not letting me break the kiss.
A woman’s low-pitched voice grumbled, “Damn, that’s hot. You need to kiss me like that, Tim,” and Brock finally pulled away, but rested his forehead against mine.
“Fuck,” he whispered.
I exhaled so I wouldn’t speak. Something in his eyes told me he knew I was holding back my own agreement.
“So, we’re done?” I asked quietly.
Brock canted his head. “Why the fuck would you say that?”
“You said, ‘This is done.’”
Brock chuckled. “I did, but I meant the asinine conversation was done. Not us. Hell, after a kiss like that, no way we’re done. I get you riled up and that’s what I get in return, I can only imagine what angry sex with you will be like.”
I pressed my lips together because not only was he right, he was turning me on –again– and I was trying to stifle my laughter.
His hands framed my face. “And another damn thing…” He paused for quite a while. “Don’t tell me you’re ‘not good enough’ ever again. Let’s go. If we’re lucky, your food will still be warm.”

Author Bio:
Karen Renee is the award-winning author of the Riot MC series, the Beta series, and upcoming O-Town series.
She has been writing since she was a teen, but has only recently brought her dream to life. Karen spent years working in the wonderful world of advertising, banking, and local television media research.
She is a Jacksonville native, as well as a proud wife and mother. When she’s not at the soccer field or cooking, you can find her at her local library, the grocery store, in her car jamming out to some tunes, or hibernating while she writes and/or reads books.
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Published on September 02, 2020 05:00
September 1, 2020
#Review: INTERFERENCE by Brad Parks


Another spell-binding roller coaster of a story from Brad Parks! Quantum physicist Matt Bronik believes he's on the cusp of some ground breaking research in quantum mechanics, but when he starts to develop mysterious and puzzling seizures, doctors have no idea what's wrong with him. Could his research with a particular virus be the cause? When Matt goes missing after another seizure, veteran detective Emmett Webster is assigned the case when it was just a missing person case. With each day that passes, the case becomes more complicated and the suspects multiply in what is now a kidnapping case. What Emmett can't figure out is why Matt was kidnapped, but he's determined to find him and won't give up even if he has to fight the DOD and the federal agents.
There is a lot of quantum mechanics discussed in this story, but Mr. Parks breaks it down for the average reader to understand. If you enjoy science and physics in particular, this book will delight you. With the POV switching between Matt's wife, the detective and a billionaire, there's a lot to absorb in the book. The beginning of the story is a little dry as the stage is set, but events soon ramp up and I couldn't put the book down to find out what happened. Who had orchestrated this kidnapping and why was the DOD so intent of keeping Matt's lab under lock and key?
I voluntarily read an advanced reader copy and all opinions are my own.
Blurb: Brigid Bronik is worried about her husband Matt, a quantum physicist at Dartmouth College. He’s excited about some groundbreaking, secret research he’s undertaken, but at the same time, he’s been suffering from bizarre, violent seizures that have no medical explanation. He thinks they’re unrelated to his work, but acknowledges he doesn’t fully understand the potential dangers of pushing certain quantum boundaries. In the midst of another seizure at the lab, Matt disappears, and all clues indicate that he’s been abducted. Suspects abound—jealous colleagues, Chinese competitors, an unscrupulous billionaire, and even the Department of Defense. Brigid, who has otosclerosis, which is gradual but almost complete hearing loss, won’t let her physical challenges get in the way of finding out what happened to her husband. And she soon comes to realize the very science that was making her husband sick may also be the key to his salvation.
Quantum entanglement. Mutated viruses. Medically inexplicable seizures. Science is one of the stars of INTERFERENCE, and Parks skillfully turns complex scientific concepts into grounded, understandable, and even thrilling aspects of this storyline that will enthrall readers.
Author bio:

Website: www.bradparksbooks.com Facebook: @BradParksBooks Twitter: @Brad_Parks BookBub: https://www.bookbub.com/authors/brad-... Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show...
Additional social media tags Facebook: @amazonpublishing, @meganbeatiecommunications Instagram: @amazonpublishing, @mbc_books Twitter: @amazonpub, @mbeatie<!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Arial; panose-1:2 11 6 4 2 2 2 2 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:Cambria; panose-1:2 4 5 3 5 4 6 3 2 4; mso-font-alt:Cambria; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Cambria; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Cambria; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;} p.Default, li.Default, div.Default {mso-style-name:Default; mso-style-parent:""; margin:0in; margin-bottom:.0001pt; mso-pagination:none; mso-layout-grid-align:none; text-autospace:none; font-size:12.0pt; font-family:Cambria; mso-fareast-font-family:Cambria; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:Cambria; color:black;}size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.25in 1.0in 1.25in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;}</style><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TwoEnd..." height="1" width="1" alt=""/>
Published on September 01, 2020 05:00
August 31, 2020
#Excerpt: INTERNSHIP WITH THE DEVIL by Jaqueline Snowe

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Jaqueline Snowe 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.
Grace Turner scores the opportunity of a lifetime interning with an Ex-NFL player. But working under Brock Anderson turns out to be the job from hell. The hometown hero turned athletic trainer has a reputation as the best in his field, but his volatile personality makes working with him miserable.
Despite the animosity between them, he’s highly respected in his field and interning under him could mean everything for her career. The long days, longer nights, injuries, and busses filled with smelly athletes are the easy part. The biggest battle is the unwarranted attraction to Brock that she can’t seem to shake.
But as Grace spends more and more time with her brooding boss, she uncovers that his abrasive nature is deep rooted in his grief—something she’s no stranger to.
The glimpses of the man beneath the harsh exterior Brock presents to the world leave Grace conflicted in her feelings for him. As the internship draws to a close, Grace is faced with a choice that could set her future on an entirely new course.
Buy links:
Amazon: https://smarturl.it/Shut1Amz
Amazon Paperback: https://smarturl.it/Shut1AmzPrt
BN: https://smarturl.it/Shut1BN
Kobo: https://smarturl.it/Shut1Kobo
iBooks: https://smarturl.it/Shut1iBooks
Goodreads: https://smarturl.it/Shut1GR
City Owl: https://smarturl.it/Shut1CO
Excerpt:
“Please,” I scoffed. “People watch you all the time. You must know that. You’re this presence that people like watching. I don’t know. You’re fascinating.” He blinked slowly a couple times, making me feel all sorts of nervous. “Nevermind.”
“No, finish your thought. I’m curious.” He nudged me with his leg and raised his dark brows.
“Fishing for compliments, Brock?” I teased, but stopped when his expression turned serious. My stomach soured, empathy taking over. This was a guy who thought very low of himself since the accident. As tough and intelligent as he was, he was a little broken inside. “You handsome, silly man.”
One side of his lip curled up, but those dark blues eyes waited for me to continue. I put my small hand on his arm this time, squeezing him. “No one watches you with pity, Brock. If that’s what you’re thinking. They watch you with awe and pride. Here you are, in the prime of most men’s athletic years working your ass off for a sport you were forced to give up. You’re amazing, really. You’re intelligent, everyone who works around you admires the hell out of you, and you refused to let life get the best of you. You help the dumbasses like Q and Chip, make sure your staff is treated fairly, and you helped me with this project which you had no obligation to do. You’re a good guy, Brock. Sometimes, I think you forget that.”
My heart pounded as his face fell slightly, his lips pressing together so hard they turned white. His eyes shattered me and I panicked, needing to ease the tension. I patted his knee with a shaking hand. “Although, you can be a bit grumpy.”
About the Author:

Social Media:
Blog: http://www.jaquelinesnowe.com/blog
Website: http://www.jaquelinesnowe.com/
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/jaquelinesnowe
Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/jaquelinesnowe
Instagram: http://www.instagram.com/jaquelinesnowe
Facebook group: https://www.facebook.com/groups/snowebirds/
Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/53516600-internship-with-the-devil
a Rafflecopter giveaway




Published on August 31, 2020 01:00
August 28, 2020
Interview with K.J. Moullen, THE HEIR

Blaine must overcome mounting self-doubt as the fate of this world is placed upon her shoulders. Book two The Heirpicks up where The Telling left off, in the ancient world of Vestia. New allies are formed and old foes are presented in a new light as an epic showdown between good and evil unfolds. Choices are made to forever change the pathway that Blaine continues on.
Have you ever had a minor character evolve into a major one? Did that change the direction of the novel at all?Yes, actually in The Heir I have two characters that became main characters. The first one was a carryover from The Telling and the second one was originally just a background character that just demanded to be a main player. I don’t outline my novels and do not have an ending plotted out so ultimately it doesn’t change the course of the story. I just go where the flow of the muse takes me. Surprising myself many of times along the way.
What is your writing process? Do you listen to music or do you like silence?I always write to music. Silence can be deafening to me. My writing playlist is instrumental, words in songs can distract me too much from the words I’m putting down for my story. My playlists has a wide variety of music, classical, new age, Celtic folk, I like to have a variety of things to list to.
Do you outline your story or just go where your muse takes you?I don’t outline my stories at all. I begin writing with a general idea of what the story will be however that often morphs into a completely different line of thinking as the characters are developing. I am constantly brainstorming while I write. Often while I am doing yardwork/ gardening. It’s a great form of meditation and some of my best plot twist have come to me while I’ve been in the garden. Nature does wonders for my senses.
Besides Amazon, are there any other sites where your books are for sale?Yes, currently you can order my books through Barnes and Noble, Books-a-Million and my publishers site Mascot Books.
What kinds of marketing (Twitter, Facebook, blog, forums) are you involved with for promoting your books?I use Facebook and Instagram the most. I am still trying to have a voice on Twitter and Pinterest. The marketing aspect of being an author is very overwhelming at times. Tring to find that formula that works for your particular books can be a bit more than what I expected. I am constantly trying to grow my mailing list and be staying in touch with interested readers that way as well.
Do you find it difficult to juggle your time between marketing your current book and writing your next book?Absolutely! I never quite understood all the comments about writing your book was the easy part.. I completely get it now!! It’s so easy to fall down the rabbit hole when you are marketing or researching marketing ideas, next thing you know most of the day is gone.
Besides writing, do you have any other passions?I love music. I studied voice and opera for years, play a little piano and guitar. I love going to concerts and hear new and upcoming artists. I also love hockey! I use to play when I was younger. Now I enjoy just watching.
Some fun facts about you, which do you prefer -Dogs or cats? Chocolate or vanilla? Coffee or Tea? Talk or text? Day or Night?I love cats and dogs both! I couldn’t imagine my life without my fur babies. I defiantly prefer vanilla unless its white chocolate.. mmmmm… Coffee, hands down without a doubt! Usually text but it also depends who and subject matter. My bio-rhythms defiantly run more towards the night time, however with kids I’ve had to make adjustments to that. I don’t think I will ever be a morning person.
What’s next for you?I am currently writing the third book in The Spinner Sagas. I’m hoping to have a quicker turn-around time than I had during the first and second book.
<!-- /* Font Definitions */ @font-face {font-family:Arial; panose-1:2 11 6 4 2 2 2 2 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} @font-face {font-family:Calibri; panose-1:2 15 5 2 2 2 4 3 2 4; mso-font-charset:0; mso-generic-font-family:auto; mso-font-pitch:variable; mso-font-signature:3 0 0 0 1 0;} /* Style Definitions */ p.MsoNormal, li.MsoNormal, div.MsoNormal {mso-style-parent:""; margin-top:0in; margin-right:0in; margin-bottom:8.0pt; margin-left:0in; line-height:107%; mso-pagination:widow-orphan; font-size:11.0pt; font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-ascii-font-family:Calibri; mso-ascii-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-fareast-font-family:Calibri; mso-fareast-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-hansi-font-family:Calibri; mso-hansi-theme-font:minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family:"Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-theme-font:minor-bidi;}size:8.5in 11.0in; margin:1.0in 1.0in 1.0in 1.0in; mso-header-margin:.5in; mso-footer-margin:.5in; mso-paper-source:0;} div.Section1 {page:Section1;}</style><br /><div style="margin: 0 auto 15px; text-align: center;"><a href="http://xpressobooktours.com/" target="_blank"><img alt="" src="http://www.xpressobooktours.com/wp-co..." style="height: auto; max-width: 100%;" /></a></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> </span></span><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>The Heir</b><br /><b>Kj Moullen</b><br />(The Spinner Sagas, #2)<br />Publication date: August 25th 2020<br />Genres: Fantasy, Young Adult</span></span><br /><blockquote><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Entrusted with the safe keeping of The Book & the wickedness contained in it, Blaine & Elian embark on a journey filled with unusual creatures & a looming prophecy in the unfamiliar & ancient land of Vestia.</span></span> </blockquote><blockquote><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">First, they have to find their way back to each other, trusting new allies & befriending old foes along the way.</span></span> </blockquote><blockquote><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">With time running out & the fate of the universe resting squarely upon their shoulders, Blaine & Elian face an unknown enemy who will stop at nothing to unleash the evil soul trapped in The Book.</span></span> </blockquote><blockquote><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">But Elian knows a secret about Blaine’s destiny. Will the secret prophecy divide their pathways, letting doubt & fear sabotage all they have accomplished?</span></span></blockquote><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"></span></span><div style="font-size: 130%; font-weight: bold; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/5..." target="_blank">Goodreads</a> / <a href="https://amzn.to/347CAkT" target="_blank">Amazon</a></span></span></div><span style="font-size: medium;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br class="blank" /> <img alt="" src="http://www.xpressobooktours.com/wp-co..." style="display: inline-block; float: left; margin: 0 15px 15px 0;" /><blockquote style="margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;"><b>Author Bio:</b><br />K.J Moullen started her life as an adventurer. Always loving the outdoors, whether it was playing king of the hill with her pet goat in southern California, playing hockey on the frozen lakes of the Kenai peninsula of Alaska or snorkeling and surfing off the shores of Maui. </blockquote><blockquote style="margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;">Amongst the breathtaking places she lived her imagination and love for writing knew no limitations allowing for a lifetime of plotlines and characters to be created and written about. She now shares her life’s adventures with her husband and two children in their home in North Texas.<br /><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://kjmoullen.com/" target="_blank"></a></div></blockquote><br /><blockquote style="margin-bottom: 15px; margin-top: 15px;"><div style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://kjmoullen.com/" target="_blank">Website</a> / <a href="https://www.facebook.com/kjmoullen/" target="_blank">Facebook</a> / <a href="https://twitter.com/KJMoullen" target="_blank">Twitter</a> / <a href="https://www.instagram.com/kjmoullen/" target="_blank">Instagram</a></div></blockquote><br class="blank" /> <div style="text-align: center;"><b>GIVEAWAY!</b><br /></div></span><a class="rcptr" data-raflid="d04251233837" data-template="" data-theme="classic" href="http://www.rafflecopter.com/rafl/disp..." id="rcwidget_o4p8ecg7" rel="nofollow">a Rafflecopter giveaway</a></span><br /><span style="font-size: medium;"><br /><script src="https://widget-prime.rafflecopter.com... /><br /><div style="text-align: center;"></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--mIp-ACNoc..." imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="315" data-original-width="851" height="147" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/--mIp-ACNoc..." width="400" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EzTDggRbGS..." imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="113" data-original-width="442" height="81" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-EzTDggRbGS..." width="320" /></a></div><br /><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YGx7xg1aV4..." imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="150" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-YGx7xg1aV4..." width="200" /></a></div><br /><img src="http://feeds.feedburner.com/~r/TwoEnd..." height="1" width="1" alt=""/>
Published on August 28, 2020 05:15