Julie Elizabeth Powell's Blog, page 53
November 7, 2016
TRU BLUE by Melissa Foster
Warning: 18+
TRU BLUE
a sexy stand-alone romance
by Melissa Foster
TRU BLUE
a sexy stand-alone romance
by Melissa Foster
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Imagine falling in love with a man, then finding out he was a killer...TRU BLUE is a sexy, dark stand-alone novel written in the same loving, raw, and emotional voice romance readers have come to love, and the deeply emotional literary prose women's fiction readers have come to expect, from New York Times & USA Today bestselling, award-winning author Melissa Foster.
He wore the skin of a killer, and bore the heart of a lover...
There's nothing Truman Gritt won't do to protect his family--Including spending years in jail for a crime he didn't commit. When he's finally released, the life he knew is turned upside down by his mother's overdose, and Truman steps in to raise the children she's left behind. Truman's hard, he's secretive, and he's trying to save a brother who's even more broken than he is. He's never needed help in his life, and when beautiful Gemma Wright tries to step in, he's less than accepting. But Gemma has a way of slithering into people's lives and eventually she pierces through his ironclad heart. When Truman's dark past collides with his future, his loyalties will be tested, and he'll be faced with his toughest decision yet.
"Several emotional topics -- such as drug addiction, abandonment, infertility and unexpectedly becoming a parent -- are easily woven together without making the story feel crowded or overdone. Foster writes exceptional characters that keep readers thinking long after the book is finished... The dynamic members of the Whiskey family are the foundation that holds the group together and they are exactly the reason we're taught not to judge. Let's hope we hear more from all of them!" RT Book Reviews
"Sexy and Heartbreaking....I simply adored this beautifully written romance." Tasty Book PR
"Ms. Foster, went for the gut with Truman and Gemma. Tru Blue is more than a romance, it is a story of love, a story of hope and a story of courage. 10 + stars." Night Owl Reviews
"With her wonderful characters and resonating emotions, Melissa Foster is a must-read author!" New York Times Bestseller Julie Kenner
"Melissa Foster is synonymous with sexy, swoony, heartfelt romance!" New York Times Bestseller Lauren Blakely
"You can always rely on Melissa Foster to deliver a story that's fresh, emotional and entertaining. Make sure you have all night, because once you start you won't want to stop reading. Every book's a winner!" NYT Bestselling Author Brenda Novak
He wore the skin of a killer, and bore the heart of a lover...
There's nothing Truman Gritt won't do to protect his family--Including spending years in jail for a crime he didn't commit. When he's finally released, the life he knew is turned upside down by his mother's overdose, and Truman steps in to raise the children she's left behind. Truman's hard, he's secretive, and he's trying to save a brother who's even more broken than he is. He's never needed help in his life, and when beautiful Gemma Wright tries to step in, he's less than accepting. But Gemma has a way of slithering into people's lives and eventually she pierces through his ironclad heart. When Truman's dark past collides with his future, his loyalties will be tested, and he'll be faced with his toughest decision yet.
"Several emotional topics -- such as drug addiction, abandonment, infertility and unexpectedly becoming a parent -- are easily woven together without making the story feel crowded or overdone. Foster writes exceptional characters that keep readers thinking long after the book is finished... The dynamic members of the Whiskey family are the foundation that holds the group together and they are exactly the reason we're taught not to judge. Let's hope we hear more from all of them!" RT Book Reviews
"Sexy and Heartbreaking....I simply adored this beautifully written romance." Tasty Book PR
"Ms. Foster, went for the gut with Truman and Gemma. Tru Blue is more than a romance, it is a story of love, a story of hope and a story of courage. 10 + stars." Night Owl Reviews
"With her wonderful characters and resonating emotions, Melissa Foster is a must-read author!" New York Times Bestseller Julie Kenner
"Melissa Foster is synonymous with sexy, swoony, heartfelt romance!" New York Times Bestseller Lauren Blakely
"You can always rely on Melissa Foster to deliver a story that's fresh, emotional and entertaining. Make sure you have all night, because once you start you won't want to stop reading. Every book's a winner!" NYT Bestselling Author Brenda Novak
TRUMAN GRITT LOCKED the door to Whiskey Automotive and stepped into the stormy September night. Sheets of rain blurred his vision, instantly drenching his jeans and T-shirt. A slow smile crept across his face as he tipped his chin up, soaking in the shower of freedom. He made his way around the dark building and climbed the wooden stairs to the deck outside his apartment. He could have used the interior door, but after being behind bars for six long years, Truman took advantage of the small pleasures he’d missed out on, like determining his own schedule, deciding when to eat and drink, and standing in the f**king rain if he wanted to. He leaned on the rough wooden railing, ignoring the splinters of wood piercing his tattooed forearms, squinted against the wetness, and scanned the cars in the junkyard they used for parts—and he used to rid himself of frustrations. He rested his leather boot on the metal box where he kept his painting supplies. Truman didn’t have much—his old extended-cab truck, which his friend Bear Whiskey had held on to for him while he was in prison, this apartment, and a solid job, both of which were compliments of the Whiskey family. The only family he had anymore.
Emotions he didn’t want to deal with burned in his gut, causing his chest to constrict. He turned to go inside, hoping to outrun thoughts of his own f**ked-up family, whom he’d tried—and failed—to save. His cell phone rang with his brother’s ringtone, “A Beautiful Lie” by 30 Seconds to Mars.
“F**k,” he muttered, debating letting the call go to voicemail, but six months of silence from his brother was a long time. Rain pelleted his back as he pressed his palm to the door to steady himself. The ringing stopped, and he blew out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d trapped inside. The phone rang again, and he froze.
He’d just freed himself from the dredges of hell that he’d been thrown into in an effort to save his brother. He didn’t need to get wrapped up in whatever mess the drug-addicted fool had gotten himself into. The call went to voicemail, and Truman eyed the metal box containing his painting supplies. Breathing like he’d been in a fight, he wished he could paint the frustration out of his head. When the phone rang for the third time in as many minutes, the third time since he was released from prison six months ago, he reluctantly answered.
“Quincy.” He hated the way his brother’s name came out sounding like the enemy. Quincy had been just a kid when Truman went to prison. Heavy breathing filled the airwaves. The hairs on Truman’s forearms and neck stood on end. He knew fear when he heard it. He could practically taste it as he ground his teeth together.
“I need you,” his brother’s tortured voice implored.
Need me? Truman had hunted down his brother after he was released from prison, and when he’d finally found him, Quincy was so high on crack he was nearly incoherent—but it didn’t take much for f**k off to come through loud and clear. What Quincy needed was rehab, but Truman knew from his tone that wasn’t the point of the call.
Before he could respond, his brother croaked out, “It’s Mom. She’s really bad.”
Melissa Foster is a New York Times & USA Today bestselling and award-winning author. She writes sexy and heartwarming contemporary romance, new adult romance (M/F, M/M, F/F), romantic suspense, thrillers, and historical fiction with emotionally compelling characters that stay with you long after you turn the last page. Melissa's emotional journeys are lovingly erotic and always family oriented. Her books have been recommended by USA Today's book blog, Hagerstown Magazine, The Patriot, and several other print venues. She is the founder of the World Literary Café. When she's not writing, Melissa helps authors navigate the publishing industry through her author training programs on Fostering Success.
Melissa has painted and donated several murals to The Hospital for Sick Children in Washington, DC. Her interests include her family, reading, writing, painting, friends, helping others see the positive side of life, and visiting Cape Cod.
Melissa is available to chat with book clubs and welcomes comments and emails from her readers. Visit Melissa on Facebook or her personal website.
Never miss a brand new release, special promotions or inside gossip again by simply signing up to receive your newsletter from Melissa.
SIGN UP for MELISSA'S NEWSLETTER
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Emotions he didn’t want to deal with burned in his gut, causing his chest to constrict. He turned to go inside, hoping to outrun thoughts of his own f**ked-up family, whom he’d tried—and failed—to save. His cell phone rang with his brother’s ringtone, “A Beautiful Lie” by 30 Seconds to Mars.
“F**k,” he muttered, debating letting the call go to voicemail, but six months of silence from his brother was a long time. Rain pelleted his back as he pressed his palm to the door to steady himself. The ringing stopped, and he blew out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d trapped inside. The phone rang again, and he froze.
He’d just freed himself from the dredges of hell that he’d been thrown into in an effort to save his brother. He didn’t need to get wrapped up in whatever mess the drug-addicted fool had gotten himself into. The call went to voicemail, and Truman eyed the metal box containing his painting supplies. Breathing like he’d been in a fight, he wished he could paint the frustration out of his head. When the phone rang for the third time in as many minutes, the third time since he was released from prison six months ago, he reluctantly answered.
“Quincy.” He hated the way his brother’s name came out sounding like the enemy. Quincy had been just a kid when Truman went to prison. Heavy breathing filled the airwaves. The hairs on Truman’s forearms and neck stood on end. He knew fear when he heard it. He could practically taste it as he ground his teeth together.
“I need you,” his brother’s tortured voice implored.
Need me? Truman had hunted down his brother after he was released from prison, and when he’d finally found him, Quincy was so high on crack he was nearly incoherent—but it didn’t take much for f**k off to come through loud and clear. What Quincy needed was rehab, but Truman knew from his tone that wasn’t the point of the call.
Before he could respond, his brother croaked out, “It’s Mom. She’s really bad.”
Melissa Foster is a New York Times & USA Today bestselling and award-winning author. She writes sexy and heartwarming contemporary romance, new adult romance (M/F, M/M, F/F), romantic suspense, thrillers, and historical fiction with emotionally compelling characters that stay with you long after you turn the last page. Melissa's emotional journeys are lovingly erotic and always family oriented. Her books have been recommended by USA Today's book blog, Hagerstown Magazine, The Patriot, and several other print venues. She is the founder of the World Literary Café. When she's not writing, Melissa helps authors navigate the publishing industry through her author training programs on Fostering Success.Melissa has painted and donated several murals to The Hospital for Sick Children in Washington, DC. Her interests include her family, reading, writing, painting, friends, helping others see the positive side of life, and visiting Cape Cod.
Melissa is available to chat with book clubs and welcomes comments and emails from her readers. Visit Melissa on Facebook or her personal website.
Never miss a brand new release, special promotions or inside gossip again by simply signing up to receive your newsletter from Melissa.
SIGN UP for MELISSA'S NEWSLETTER
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REVENGE RIVER by Lindsay Cross
REVENGE RIVER
Men of Mercy series, Book 9
by Lindsay Cross
Genre: Romantic Suspense, Military (hot heat level)
Merc:
His name is Merc.
He has no past.
No future.
Only a thirst for revenge against the traitor who betrayed his team and his country – Agent Jack Mankel.
When he’s handed a mission to rescue a sitting US senator’s daughter from the traitor’s clutches, Merc jumps at his chance for vengeance, never dreaming the girl he rescued could be his downfall…
Nightshade:
She walks in the night.
She is a shadow.
An operative so elite even the president doesn’t know of her existence.
Her whole life, she’s lived to serve, raised in the black-ops team her father, Jack Mankel, created. Then her whole world is turned upside down when she learns the sister she once thought dead is really alive; and to save her, Nightshade will have to take on the hardest mission of her life…
Merc knows he doesn’t deserve her. Nightshade knows she can’t have him. But a connection so powerful neither of them can resist draws them closer, even as a betrayal so deep threatens to destroy their very existence.
“So, what you're saying is, I cannot move freely about my own house? That my father lied and he really is going to keep me here?”
“If your father is as smart as I think he is, he will.” That was the only way their team could guarantee her protection and safety. No matter how heavily secured the estate remained, until J was brought down, Caroline Cotter’s life was at risk.
“So then why even bother rescuing me if you were just going to make me exchange one prison for another?”
Merc snorted. “I would hardly call this a prison.”
“And what would you know about prisons?”
Without thinking, his feet carried him across the room, not stopping until his shins bumped into the couch cushion. “I know a lot more than you do, princess. Trust me, your father’s only doing what's necessary to keep you safe. The minute you step out the door, you could be targeted. He has snipers that could kill you from over a thousand yards away, and no matter how hard I try, I won't be able to predict that or stop the bullet.”
“I’ll be trapped here for the rest of my life, then? What kind of life is that?”
“The kind where you stay alive and breathing,” Merc countered.
Her nostrils flared, her knuckles turning white as she squeezed the couch. “I refuse to live my life ruled by fear.”
“I'm not asking you to live like this forever, just until we capture him.” Merc tried to reason with her. Surely she could see his logic, couldn’t she?
“And what if that's a year from now? Two years? Never?” Caroline lifted her chin and Merc’s admiration of her spirit rose. She had an unrelenting thread of strength running through every word. She argued with logic and passion, not tears and emotion.
And although it made no damn sense whatsoever, he found himself agreeing with her. There is no way in hell Merc would let anyone tell him where he could and could not go, or keep him locked up indoors for the rest of his life. Just the thought chafed him, so he could only imagine how it made Caroline feel, especially after being held captive.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t take the chance that he will get to you again.” He refused to allow her to be injured or captured again, not under his watch. “Besides, it won’t be that long. We’ll find him or he’ll come here to finish what he started.” Which meant cleaning up his tracks and the only guarantee for that would be killing Caroline. “He won’t stop. Believe me, I know from personal experience.”
She plucked at a small loose thread on the back of the leather couch. “How exactly do you know my – my father’s enemy? I thought he worked for Cotter.”
Merc’s lips twisted into a cruel snare of a smile, more of self-depreciation than anything else. “Once upon a time, I was young and stupid and I believed all the bullshit J fed me. He’d saved me when I wasn’t much older than a teenager. At the time, I thought it was because he was a good man, but later on, I found out it was because he’d seen me in action as a solider. He valued my skills and wanted to use me.”
“So before him, you worked for the CIA?”
Merc never told anyone about his lack of memory, not even his TF-S teammates, but there was something about the girl standing in front of him that made him want to tell her. “I don't remember anything before waking up in a hospital with J telling me he’d barely saved my life. He told me I was a foot soldier, but I never found my records. Who knows, I could've been black ops before then – a mercenary, an assassin – or I could have been some CIA recruit injured in battle, something I might not ever know.” Normally he’d feel that pang of self-loathing for letting J get away, but this time, looking into Caroline’s eyes, he had zero regrets for choosing her life over his past.
“What you're saying is basically your entire life has been some sort of training and work as a soldier. Haven't you ever been curious about the outside world? Didn't you want to know what it was like to have a normal life?” Her probing question caught him off guard.
“I wouldn't know how.” At her look of chagrin, he found himself frantically searching for an explanation. A normal person would probably want to do things like he'd seen on TV – go to the movies, go out to eat, come home, take out the trash, mow his one-acre lot in a suburb where everyone else’s house looked exactly the same. It was a life he'd never had and never wanted. “I know you can’t understand this, having grown up in a normal home, but I don't know how to be anything else other than a soldier.”
She blinked then looked away for a moment. “You think this is normal?” When she looked back, her face was tinged with dark shadows. “I've been locked in a bubble my entire life, hidden from everyone else, from the public, from being normal. I’ve never been allowed the freedom to do what I please. I’ve never even... kissed a man. How pathetic is that?”
Merc's heart lurched in his chest, and despite his better judgment, he went around the couch to stand directly in front of her. Her soft, perfect skin called out to him. He cupped her chin, tilting her head back. “You've been trapped as much as I have.”
As if his thumb had a mind of its own, he rubbed back and forth, tracing her cheek. When she leaned into his touch, warmth blossomed in his chest.
“I've always wondered what it would be like. Is it like on TV when the guy kisses the girl and she lifts her foot back?”
Her blunt honesty rocked him to his core. He didn't know. How could he? His soldier’s life hadn’t exactly been riddled with free time. As far back as he could remember, he'd never been with a woman.
What would it be like? For the first time he could remember, Merc wanted to know and he wanted to find out with Caroline.
He lowered his head to hover an inch above hers, captivated by her spicy sent. “Do you want to find out?”
“If your father is as smart as I think he is, he will.” That was the only way their team could guarantee her protection and safety. No matter how heavily secured the estate remained, until J was brought down, Caroline Cotter’s life was at risk.
“So then why even bother rescuing me if you were just going to make me exchange one prison for another?”
Merc snorted. “I would hardly call this a prison.”
“And what would you know about prisons?”
Without thinking, his feet carried him across the room, not stopping until his shins bumped into the couch cushion. “I know a lot more than you do, princess. Trust me, your father’s only doing what's necessary to keep you safe. The minute you step out the door, you could be targeted. He has snipers that could kill you from over a thousand yards away, and no matter how hard I try, I won't be able to predict that or stop the bullet.”
“I’ll be trapped here for the rest of my life, then? What kind of life is that?”
“The kind where you stay alive and breathing,” Merc countered.
Her nostrils flared, her knuckles turning white as she squeezed the couch. “I refuse to live my life ruled by fear.”
“I'm not asking you to live like this forever, just until we capture him.” Merc tried to reason with her. Surely she could see his logic, couldn’t she?
“And what if that's a year from now? Two years? Never?” Caroline lifted her chin and Merc’s admiration of her spirit rose. She had an unrelenting thread of strength running through every word. She argued with logic and passion, not tears and emotion.
And although it made no damn sense whatsoever, he found himself agreeing with her. There is no way in hell Merc would let anyone tell him where he could and could not go, or keep him locked up indoors for the rest of his life. Just the thought chafed him, so he could only imagine how it made Caroline feel, especially after being held captive.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t take the chance that he will get to you again.” He refused to allow her to be injured or captured again, not under his watch. “Besides, it won’t be that long. We’ll find him or he’ll come here to finish what he started.” Which meant cleaning up his tracks and the only guarantee for that would be killing Caroline. “He won’t stop. Believe me, I know from personal experience.”
She plucked at a small loose thread on the back of the leather couch. “How exactly do you know my – my father’s enemy? I thought he worked for Cotter.”
Merc’s lips twisted into a cruel snare of a smile, more of self-depreciation than anything else. “Once upon a time, I was young and stupid and I believed all the bullshit J fed me. He’d saved me when I wasn’t much older than a teenager. At the time, I thought it was because he was a good man, but later on, I found out it was because he’d seen me in action as a solider. He valued my skills and wanted to use me.”
“So before him, you worked for the CIA?”
Merc never told anyone about his lack of memory, not even his TF-S teammates, but there was something about the girl standing in front of him that made him want to tell her. “I don't remember anything before waking up in a hospital with J telling me he’d barely saved my life. He told me I was a foot soldier, but I never found my records. Who knows, I could've been black ops before then – a mercenary, an assassin – or I could have been some CIA recruit injured in battle, something I might not ever know.” Normally he’d feel that pang of self-loathing for letting J get away, but this time, looking into Caroline’s eyes, he had zero regrets for choosing her life over his past.
“What you're saying is basically your entire life has been some sort of training and work as a soldier. Haven't you ever been curious about the outside world? Didn't you want to know what it was like to have a normal life?” Her probing question caught him off guard.
“I wouldn't know how.” At her look of chagrin, he found himself frantically searching for an explanation. A normal person would probably want to do things like he'd seen on TV – go to the movies, go out to eat, come home, take out the trash, mow his one-acre lot in a suburb where everyone else’s house looked exactly the same. It was a life he'd never had and never wanted. “I know you can’t understand this, having grown up in a normal home, but I don't know how to be anything else other than a soldier.”
She blinked then looked away for a moment. “You think this is normal?” When she looked back, her face was tinged with dark shadows. “I've been locked in a bubble my entire life, hidden from everyone else, from the public, from being normal. I’ve never been allowed the freedom to do what I please. I’ve never even... kissed a man. How pathetic is that?”
Merc's heart lurched in his chest, and despite his better judgment, he went around the couch to stand directly in front of her. Her soft, perfect skin called out to him. He cupped her chin, tilting her head back. “You've been trapped as much as I have.”
As if his thumb had a mind of its own, he rubbed back and forth, tracing her cheek. When she leaned into his touch, warmth blossomed in his chest.
“I've always wondered what it would be like. Is it like on TV when the guy kisses the girl and she lifts her foot back?”
Her blunt honesty rocked him to his core. He didn't know. How could he? His soldier’s life hadn’t exactly been riddled with free time. As far back as he could remember, he'd never been with a woman.
What would it be like? For the first time he could remember, Merc wanted to know and he wanted to find out with Caroline.
He lowered his head to hover an inch above hers, captivated by her spicy sent. “Do you want to find out?”
Redemption River ✯ Resurrection River ✯ Reckless River ✯ David (novella)
Raylan (novella) ✯ Ravaged River ✯ Ethan's Promise ✯ Aaron's Honor
Lindsay Cross is the award-winning author of the Men of Mercy series. She is the fun loving mom of two beautiful daughters and one precocious Great Dane. Lindsay is happily married to the man of her dreams – a soldier and veteran. During one of her husband’s deployments from home, writing became her escape and motivation.An avid reader since childhood, reading and writing is in her blood. After years of reading, she discovered her true passion – writing. Her alpha military men are damaged, drop-dead gorgeous and determined to win the heart of the woman of their dreams.
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A MATTER OF TRUST by Jill Blake
A MATTER OF TRUST
The Silicon Beach Trilogy, Book 3
by Jill Blake
Genre: Contemporary Romantic Suspense
Content warning: For mature audience only. Rated 18+ for occasional profanity and explicit sex scenes. Also includes off-stage murder (though no graphic description of violence).
Content warning: For mature audience only. Rated 18+ for occasional profanity and explicit sex scenes. Also includes off-stage murder (though no graphic description of violence).
Venture capitalist Vlad Snezhinsky excels at two things: making money and being a dad. Still struggling to get over a disastrous marriage, he has zero interest in starting a new relationship. That is, until he meets Klara Lazarev.Klara’s done living in her older sister’s shadow. Determined to forge her own path, she completes a prestigious fellowship program before returning to college. Now scrambling to fulfill her graduation requirements, Klara has no time for distractions like Vlad and his daughter. Especially after an unfortunate first encounter leaves Klara doubting Vlad’s integrity.
But when a shocking murder throws their world into chaos, can they trust each other enough to uncover the truth and embrace the possibility of love?
It was the day after Christmas, and the store was packed. So much for doing a quick grocery run.
Klara maneuvered her cart around a woman with a screaming toddler, and headed for the cereal aisle. She turned the corner and nearly ran into another cart coming from the opposite direction.
Blue eyes met hers. He sported several days’ growth of blond stubble across his cheeks and jaw. Dressed up, he was handsome. But dressed down, in faded jeans topped with a long-sleeve navy Henley that hugged every muscle, he was devastating. His fingers tightened on the handle of his cart and he nodded. “Hello, Klara.”
The gravelly tone sent her pulse fluttering. “Vlad.”
She stifled the impulse to smooth her hair. Santa Monica wasn’t that big. She’d known there was a risk of running into him at some point. Just her luck that it happened today, when she’d left the house without even bothering to check the mirror. On a grooming scale of one to ten, where ten was evening gown and one was yoga pants, she was probably a negative three: the roll-out-of-bed, throw-on-some-baggy-sweats, and try-not-to-forget-the-keys-and-wallet look.
Good thing he was married and off limits. Otherwise, she might have been embarrassed.
She bit her lip and glanced around.
No wife in sight, but there was a young girl with blond pigtails and gamine grin who grabbed his hand and pointed to a box on a nearby shelf. “Papa, look! Can I have this?”
He broke eye contact and picked up the box in question.
The girl bounced on her toes as he read the side panel. “Can I, Papa? Please?”
“Yes,” he said, placing the box in his cart. “Where’s ‘thank you’?”
“Thank you,” the girl dutifully repeated, before skipping ahead, toward the end of the aisle. He followed. As he passed Klara, he smiled and shrugged, as if to say he wasn’t the one in charge.
She saw them again in the dairy section, stocking up on yogurt. They were counting out loud. She slowed and stopped, pretending an interest in—what the hell was horchata?
A surreptitious glance around showed that she wasn’t the only one watching. Other women followed their progress past display cases filled with milk and eggs. In a town swarming with aspiring actors and models, physical beauty alone generated little attention. But the novelty of a preschool-age child skipping down a supermarket aisle with a man who looked like he’d just stepped off the cover of People’s Sexiest Man Alive issue? That turned heads.
Klara maneuvered her cart around a woman with a screaming toddler, and headed for the cereal aisle. She turned the corner and nearly ran into another cart coming from the opposite direction.
Blue eyes met hers. He sported several days’ growth of blond stubble across his cheeks and jaw. Dressed up, he was handsome. But dressed down, in faded jeans topped with a long-sleeve navy Henley that hugged every muscle, he was devastating. His fingers tightened on the handle of his cart and he nodded. “Hello, Klara.”
The gravelly tone sent her pulse fluttering. “Vlad.”
She stifled the impulse to smooth her hair. Santa Monica wasn’t that big. She’d known there was a risk of running into him at some point. Just her luck that it happened today, when she’d left the house without even bothering to check the mirror. On a grooming scale of one to ten, where ten was evening gown and one was yoga pants, she was probably a negative three: the roll-out-of-bed, throw-on-some-baggy-sweats, and try-not-to-forget-the-keys-and-wallet look.
Good thing he was married and off limits. Otherwise, she might have been embarrassed.
She bit her lip and glanced around.
No wife in sight, but there was a young girl with blond pigtails and gamine grin who grabbed his hand and pointed to a box on a nearby shelf. “Papa, look! Can I have this?”
He broke eye contact and picked up the box in question.
The girl bounced on her toes as he read the side panel. “Can I, Papa? Please?”
“Yes,” he said, placing the box in his cart. “Where’s ‘thank you’?”
“Thank you,” the girl dutifully repeated, before skipping ahead, toward the end of the aisle. He followed. As he passed Klara, he smiled and shrugged, as if to say he wasn’t the one in charge.
She saw them again in the dairy section, stocking up on yogurt. They were counting out loud. She slowed and stopped, pretending an interest in—what the hell was horchata?
A surreptitious glance around showed that she wasn’t the only one watching. Other women followed their progress past display cases filled with milk and eggs. In a town swarming with aspiring actors and models, physical beauty alone generated little attention. But the novelty of a preschool-age child skipping down a supermarket aisle with a man who looked like he’d just stepped off the cover of People’s Sexiest Man Alive issue? That turned heads.
Beyond the Ivory Tower (Book 1) ~ Anna & Ethan~ 2016 IAN Book of the Year Award Finalist ~
If there’s one thing math professor Anna Lazarev believes in, it’s the value of higher education. So when her younger sister announces she’s dropping out of college, Anna places the blame squarely on the man who inspired her sister’s rebellion.
Venture capitalist Ethan Talbot claims the US academic system is broken. His solution? Pay top students to “opt out” and pursue their entrepreneurial dreams without wasting time and money on a university degree.
In a battle for the hearts and minds of a new generation, Anna will do whatever it takes to prove Ethan wrong. But when his demands take a more personal turn, will she sacrifice her principles to come out on top?
Sweet Indulgence (Book 2) ~ Becca & Leo~ 2016 East Texas Writers Guild Book Award, Romance Category Finalist ~
Becca Markham spent the last six years trying to please everyone else. Now it's her turn. She ditches her cheating boyfriend, quits her high-stress job as a software engineer, and decides to transform her life-long love of baking from a part-time hobby into a full-time business.
Leo Kogan spent years scrambling to escape a life of poverty—first in Russia, then in the U.S. Now a successful surgeon, he needs just one thing to complete his American dream: the perfect woman. But making the leap from casual friends to lovers proves harder than he expects.
Despite a sizzling attraction, Becca and Leo don't see eye to eye—especially when it comes to love and money. She's looking for sex without strings; he wants a partner for life. She stakes her future on a risky new business; he's obsessed with financial security.
Can love bring two headstrong people together...or will their differences end up tearing them apart?
A native of Philadelphia, Jill now lives in southern California with her husband and three children. During the day, she works as a physician in a busy medical practice. At night, she pens steamy romances.
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A MATTER OF TRUST by Jill Blake
A MATTER OF TRUST
The Silicon Beach Trilogy, Book 3
by Jill Blake
Genre: Contemporary Romantic Suspense
Content warning: For mature audience only. Rated 18+ for occasional profanity and explicit sex scenes. Also includes off-stage murder (though no graphic description of violence).
Content warning: For mature audience only. Rated 18+ for occasional profanity and explicit sex scenes. Also includes off-stage murder (though no graphic description of violence).
Venture capitalist Vlad Snezhinsky excels at two things: making money and being a dad. Still struggling to get over a disastrous marriage, he has zero interest in starting a new relationship. That is, until he meets Klara Lazarev.
Klara’s done living in her older sister’s shadow. Determined to forge her own path, she completes a prestigious fellowship program before returning to college. Now scrambling to fulfill her graduation requirements, Klara has no time for distractions like Vlad and his daughter. Especially after an unfortunate first encounter leaves Klara doubting Vlad’s integrity.
But when a shocking murder throws their world into chaos, can they trust each other enough to uncover the truth and embrace the possibility of love?
Klara’s done living in her older sister’s shadow. Determined to forge her own path, she completes a prestigious fellowship program before returning to college. Now scrambling to fulfill her graduation requirements, Klara has no time for distractions like Vlad and his daughter. Especially after an unfortunate first encounter leaves Klara doubting Vlad’s integrity.
But when a shocking murder throws their world into chaos, can they trust each other enough to uncover the truth and embrace the possibility of love?
Vlad Snezhinsky paused mid-sentence as the newest member of the Talbot household let out a wail.
“Sorry,” Ethan said. “Maya’s teething. Go on.”
Vlad watched as the man draped a fresh burp cloth over his shoulder, adjusted his hold on his six-month-old daughter, and patted the baby’s back.
In the year since Vlad joined the Talbot Fund, he’d been to Ethan Talbot’s home office twice. For a venture capitalist, Ethan did a remarkable job keeping his business life from encroaching on family time. Today’s meeting proved the rare exception. Not that Vlad blamed him. The allure of first-mover advantage was hard to resist.
“The market’s at least $500 million,” Vlad said, picking up where he left off. “They want six million, in exchange for sixty percent of the company—”
A peremptory knock cut him off. The door swung open, and a dark-haired woman popped her head inside. “Sorry, Ethan. Anna needs you. The Pack ’n Play won’t fold, and she’s wigging out.”
Vlad set aside his laptop and rose from the visitors’ chair.
The woman glanced his way. A flicker of something—recognition? awareness?—crossed her face, but before he could interpret it, her expression smoothed into polite disinterest. She turned back to Ethan. “If you want, I can watch Maya while you go fix things.”
Ethan got up and rounded the desk, transferring his daughter into the woman’s care. “She may need a diaper change.”
The baby cooed and kicked her legs. The woman laughed—a smooth, husky sound that trickled like warmed oil down Vlad’s spine.
He forced himself to remain still, knees locked, fingers digging into his palms.
Ethan, apparently unaffected, removed the burp cloth from his shoulder and offered Vlad an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Our first big trip with Maya. You know how it is.”
Vlad nodded.
“Anyway,” Ethan said, “let’s do the due diligence, and if everything pans out, we’ll set up a preliminary meeting. I’m available by phone if you need me.”
The door closed. Silence descended.
Vlad waited to see what the woman would do next.
“Pee-yew.” She wrinkled her nose and headed for a brightly decorated corner equipped with an array of baby paraphernalia. “Your daddy’s right, kiddo. You do smell like you need a diaper change.”
She placed Maya atop the padded changing table and rummaged through the top drawer with one hand, while keeping the other on the squirming infant.
“Looks like we’re in business, kid.” She cleaned, re-diapered, and dressed Maya in a fresh outfit. “Now what?”
Vlad cleared his throat, and the woman jumped, as if she’d forgotten he was still in the room.
“There are toys,” he said. “In the cupboard to your right.”
At least that’s where they’d been the last time he was here, shortly after Maya was born.
“Yeah, I know,” she said. Her eyes—green, with flecks of brown and gold—widened at Vlad’s approach. Her lips parted, and he nearly groaned.
Damn, what was he doing?
“Sorry.” He stopped a couple feet away. “I don’t think we’ve met. Vladislav Snezhinsky. My friends call me Vlad.”
Maya chose that moment to grab a handful of the woman’s hair and pull.
“Oww.” She winced and turned her attention to disentangling her curls from the baby’s fist. “Let’s see about those toys, shall we?”
In the few minutes it took to settle Maya on a brightly colored floor mat with an assortment of plush musical toys and rattles, Vlad studied the woman’s profile. She was tall—maybe half a head shorter than him—and dressed for comfort in an oversized T-shirt and faded jeans. When she leaned down and reached across the mat to grab a toy, Vlad got a glimpse of what her loose clothing concealed: a narrow waist, generous hips, and a rounded bottom that made his mouth water and his fingers itch.
Hoping to disguise his body’s reaction, Vlad hunkered down at the edge of the mat. “Okay, let’s try this again,” he said, stretching out his hand. “My name is Vlad. And you are…?”
“Klara. Anna’s sister.” She withdrew her fingers as quickly as possible, but not before he felt the slight tremor.
Nerves? Attraction? She averted her eyes, focusing on the baby. The pulse at the base of her neck fluttered.
He swallowed a smile. “So, Klara. Why haven’t we met before?”
That got her attention. And not in a good way. Her brows drew together and she narrowed her eyes. “We have. A couple years ago, at your brother’s wedding.”
“Oh.” He blinked away the unpleasant memories that threatened to swamp him. It was unfortunate that he’d forever associate his brother’s wedding with the beginning of the end. That’s when Vlad and Oksana started on a long downward spiral, culminating in an acrimonious divorce that was still dragging on today.
He studied Klara more closely. Something stirred at the back of his mind.
A brief impression of thick black curls swept up in an elegant twist, the body poured into some barely-there excuse for a dress, the lips smiling at him. And then—
Oh, God.
The red lipstick smeared, the eyes dripping mascara-tinged tears, his cheek stinging from the impression of her hand.
And then—nothing…until he woke up the next morning, head pounding like an entire battalion of jackhammers doing demolition work.
“Sorry,” Ethan said. “Maya’s teething. Go on.”
Vlad watched as the man draped a fresh burp cloth over his shoulder, adjusted his hold on his six-month-old daughter, and patted the baby’s back.
In the year since Vlad joined the Talbot Fund, he’d been to Ethan Talbot’s home office twice. For a venture capitalist, Ethan did a remarkable job keeping his business life from encroaching on family time. Today’s meeting proved the rare exception. Not that Vlad blamed him. The allure of first-mover advantage was hard to resist.
“The market’s at least $500 million,” Vlad said, picking up where he left off. “They want six million, in exchange for sixty percent of the company—”
A peremptory knock cut him off. The door swung open, and a dark-haired woman popped her head inside. “Sorry, Ethan. Anna needs you. The Pack ’n Play won’t fold, and she’s wigging out.”
Vlad set aside his laptop and rose from the visitors’ chair.
The woman glanced his way. A flicker of something—recognition? awareness?—crossed her face, but before he could interpret it, her expression smoothed into polite disinterest. She turned back to Ethan. “If you want, I can watch Maya while you go fix things.”
Ethan got up and rounded the desk, transferring his daughter into the woman’s care. “She may need a diaper change.”
The baby cooed and kicked her legs. The woman laughed—a smooth, husky sound that trickled like warmed oil down Vlad’s spine.
He forced himself to remain still, knees locked, fingers digging into his palms.
Ethan, apparently unaffected, removed the burp cloth from his shoulder and offered Vlad an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Our first big trip with Maya. You know how it is.”
Vlad nodded.
“Anyway,” Ethan said, “let’s do the due diligence, and if everything pans out, we’ll set up a preliminary meeting. I’m available by phone if you need me.”
The door closed. Silence descended.
Vlad waited to see what the woman would do next.
“Pee-yew.” She wrinkled her nose and headed for a brightly decorated corner equipped with an array of baby paraphernalia. “Your daddy’s right, kiddo. You do smell like you need a diaper change.”
She placed Maya atop the padded changing table and rummaged through the top drawer with one hand, while keeping the other on the squirming infant.
“Looks like we’re in business, kid.” She cleaned, re-diapered, and dressed Maya in a fresh outfit. “Now what?”
Vlad cleared his throat, and the woman jumped, as if she’d forgotten he was still in the room.
“There are toys,” he said. “In the cupboard to your right.”
At least that’s where they’d been the last time he was here, shortly after Maya was born.
“Yeah, I know,” she said. Her eyes—green, with flecks of brown and gold—widened at Vlad’s approach. Her lips parted, and he nearly groaned.
Damn, what was he doing?
“Sorry.” He stopped a couple feet away. “I don’t think we’ve met. Vladislav Snezhinsky. My friends call me Vlad.”
Maya chose that moment to grab a handful of the woman’s hair and pull.
“Oww.” She winced and turned her attention to disentangling her curls from the baby’s fist. “Let’s see about those toys, shall we?”
In the few minutes it took to settle Maya on a brightly colored floor mat with an assortment of plush musical toys and rattles, Vlad studied the woman’s profile. She was tall—maybe half a head shorter than him—and dressed for comfort in an oversized T-shirt and faded jeans. When she leaned down and reached across the mat to grab a toy, Vlad got a glimpse of what her loose clothing concealed: a narrow waist, generous hips, and a rounded bottom that made his mouth water and his fingers itch.
Hoping to disguise his body’s reaction, Vlad hunkered down at the edge of the mat. “Okay, let’s try this again,” he said, stretching out his hand. “My name is Vlad. And you are…?”
“Klara. Anna’s sister.” She withdrew her fingers as quickly as possible, but not before he felt the slight tremor.
Nerves? Attraction? She averted her eyes, focusing on the baby. The pulse at the base of her neck fluttered.
He swallowed a smile. “So, Klara. Why haven’t we met before?”
That got her attention. And not in a good way. Her brows drew together and she narrowed her eyes. “We have. A couple years ago, at your brother’s wedding.”
“Oh.” He blinked away the unpleasant memories that threatened to swamp him. It was unfortunate that he’d forever associate his brother’s wedding with the beginning of the end. That’s when Vlad and Oksana started on a long downward spiral, culminating in an acrimonious divorce that was still dragging on today.
He studied Klara more closely. Something stirred at the back of his mind.
A brief impression of thick black curls swept up in an elegant twist, the body poured into some barely-there excuse for a dress, the lips smiling at him. And then—
Oh, God.
The red lipstick smeared, the eyes dripping mascara-tinged tears, his cheek stinging from the impression of her hand.
And then—nothing…until he woke up the next morning, head pounding like an entire battalion of jackhammers doing demolition work.
Beyond the Ivory Tower (Book 1) ~ Anna & Ethan~ 2016 IAN Book of the Year Award Finalist ~
If there’s one thing math professor Anna Lazarev believes in, it’s the value of higher education. So when her younger sister announces she’s dropping out of college, Anna places the blame squarely on the man who inspired her sister’s rebellion.
Venture capitalist Ethan Talbot claims the US academic system is broken. His solution? Pay top students to “opt out” and pursue their entrepreneurial dreams without wasting time and money on a university degree.
In a battle for the hearts and minds of a new generation, Anna will do whatever it takes to prove Ethan wrong. But when his demands take a more personal turn, will she sacrifice her principles to come out on top?
Sweet Indulgence (Book 2) ~ Becca & Leo~ 2016 East Texas Writers Guild Book Award, Romance Category Finalist ~
Becca Markham spent the last six years trying to please everyone else. Now it's her turn. She ditches her cheating boyfriend, quits her high-stress job as a software engineer, and decides to transform her life-long love of baking from a part-time hobby into a full-time business.
Leo Kogan spent years scrambling to escape a life of poverty—first in Russia, then in the U.S. Now a successful surgeon, he needs just one thing to complete his American dream: the perfect woman. But making the leap from casual friends to lovers proves harder than he expects.
Despite a sizzling attraction, Becca and Leo don't see eye to eye—especially when it comes to love and money. She's looking for sex without strings; he wants a partner for life. She stakes her future on a risky new business; he's obsessed with financial security.
Can love bring two headstrong people together...or will their differences end up tearing them apart?
A native of Philadelphia, Jill now lives in southern California with her husband and three children. During the day, she works as a physician in a busy medical practice. At night, she pens steamy romances.
MoB Promotions
November 1, 2016
Promo Tour for Michael Meyer
PROMO OF MICHAEL MEYER
and his books
Writer of mysteries, thrillers, humorous fiction, and non-fiction: Love and romance, laughter and tears, thrills and fears.My INTERNATIONAL SUSPENSE COLLECTION currently has two books: COVERT DREAMS, Book One; and DEADLY EYES, Book Two.
My CONTEMPORARY/HUMOROUS FICTION COLLECTION currently has two books: THE FAMOUS UNION, Book One; and THE SURVIVAL OF MARVIN BAINES, Book Two.
THE THREE KITTIES THAT SAVED MY LIFE was my heartfelt attempt to make things right again in my own life, and putting this true story of love down on paper worked. It was something that I just knew I had to do. One reviewer says of this book, "This is like drinking tea and honey on a cold day."
TRIANGLE OF HOPE was written as a testament to the fact that sheer determination on the part of people can bring about hope in even the most hopeless of circumstances.
THE SIR RODNEY VIGNETTES is a collection of humorous anecdotal episodes in the life of an Old World Charmer, allowing the English professor side of me to come forth.
I have resided in and have visited many places in the world, all of which have contributed in some way to my own published writing. I have literally traveled throughout the world, on numerous occasions. I have lived in Finland, Germany, Thailand, Saudi Arabia (where COVERT DREAMS - INTERNATIONAL SUSPENSE COLLECTION BOOK ONE - is set), and the U.S. Virgin Islands (where DEADLY EYES - INTERNATIONAL SUSPENSE COLLECTION BOOK TWO - is set). I gained the wanderlust to see the world, to experience other cultures, at an early age, and this desire has never left me. If anything, it has only gained in intensity as I have aged. I try to travel internationally at least once a year. In the interim, I spend lots of time traveling around both my home state of California and other nearby states.
Among the many unique things that have happened to me in my world travels, I have walked the streets of Istanbul with a detective, searching for a pickpocket who got me good. I have ridden on the back of a motorcycle in Tehran while the driver, who spoke not one word of English, pointed out all the sights to me. I have wrestled an Iranian soldier who tried to break into my hotel room in Tehran. I have had the paint completely stripped from my car as I drove across Saudi Arabia in a sandstorm. I have stood on the stage of a busy nightclub in Tokyo, singing "She'll be Coming Round the Mountain When She Comes" to an audience feeling no pain from the Sake they were drinking. I have been chased by a family of mongooses (yes, that is the correct spelling) on the idyllic Caribbean island of St. Croix. And that is just the beginning of my long list of worldly adventures.
As a recent retiree from a forty-year career as a professor of writing, I now live in Southern California wine country with my wife, Kitty, and our two adorable rescue cats.
All my books are available as both ebooks and paperbacks at Amazon, and as ebooks at Kobo, Apple, and Barnes and Noble.
Feel Good Contemporary Fiction
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Life grinds you down, but there's always hope--and sometimes it can come in the strangest of ways....
After being battered by life's cruelness, three unlikely friends find themselves drawn to a small Irish town seeking something--anything. Finding solace in one another, their quest throws them together and they make a courageous stand.
Clint Westerly was a success until a choice he makes blows his world all apart. Tanya Wilshire is broke and hell-bent on committing to her mother's final deathbed request. 84-year-old Seamus Harrington needs to right an ancient wrong before time runs out.
Together, this unlikely trio of unexpected allies forms a Triangle of Hope against all odds, their disparate stories uniting for a thrilling conclusion that will leave the reader breathless.
If you love feel-good reads with happy endings, then TRIANGLE OF HOPE is for you. It is "a book that will stay with you forever." (Wanda Hartzenberg)
SEMIFINALIST FOR THE 2015 KINDLE BOOK AWARD IN LITERARY FICTION
After being battered by life's cruelness, three unlikely friends find themselves drawn to a small Irish town seeking something--anything. Finding solace in one another, their quest throws them together and they make a courageous stand.
Clint Westerly was a success until a choice he makes blows his world all apart. Tanya Wilshire is broke and hell-bent on committing to her mother's final deathbed request. 84-year-old Seamus Harrington needs to right an ancient wrong before time runs out.
Together, this unlikely trio of unexpected allies forms a Triangle of Hope against all odds, their disparate stories uniting for a thrilling conclusion that will leave the reader breathless.
If you love feel-good reads with happy endings, then TRIANGLE OF HOPE is for you. It is "a book that will stay with you forever." (Wanda Hartzenberg)
SEMIFINALIST FOR THE 2015 KINDLE BOOK AWARD IN LITERARY FICTION
His impending death hung in the air like thick smog, smothering everything in its path, obscuring a parade of ups and downs, the unevenness of thrills and chills that defined his life’s existence. It was eerie and scary, but also rather comforting, much like being in a warm bed on a cold night, like shivering while being filled with excitement at what was going to happen next. The news could very easily have been broadcast to those of his past and present, but he had made certain that all the speakers had been turned to mute. He had made the firm decision to meet his destiny without any chance of intervention by anyone. He was all alone in this, his final act.
The hotel room was a bit dark with all the lights switched off, but outside the window the sky was as bright blue as Cinnamon’s eyes had been. At least that’s the way it looked to Clint Westerly. For some reason his mind had suddenly flashed on Cinnamon of all things. Cinnamon had been the perfect cat. Paul Newman eyes, he had called them, which sparkled in the sunlight and glistened in the dark. Such beautiful eyes. Such a wonderful cat. Such a pity that eighteen years was all the time he had had to frolic through the world. Cinnamon had been the perfect cat, the perfect companion. The little cat had been much more than a friend. He had actually been like a son to both him and Sheila. Anybody who knew them would surely concur. That’s just the way things were in their wonderful world.
Their world. What a crock! What world? Everything gone now, vanished, disintegrated into thin air, the tiniest particles vaporized into non-existence. Not a remnant remaining except for the tortured thoughts brought about by that one memory that refused to disappear no matter how painfully the ever increasing toll that it took on his physical body and on his ever working brain, overwhelming him in the process, the remembrance bringing him to his knees, shutting out all other thoughts as well as the rest of the world.
The hotel room was a bit dark with all the lights switched off, but outside the window the sky was as bright blue as Cinnamon’s eyes had been. At least that’s the way it looked to Clint Westerly. For some reason his mind had suddenly flashed on Cinnamon of all things. Cinnamon had been the perfect cat. Paul Newman eyes, he had called them, which sparkled in the sunlight and glistened in the dark. Such beautiful eyes. Such a wonderful cat. Such a pity that eighteen years was all the time he had had to frolic through the world. Cinnamon had been the perfect cat, the perfect companion. The little cat had been much more than a friend. He had actually been like a son to both him and Sheila. Anybody who knew them would surely concur. That’s just the way things were in their wonderful world.
Their world. What a crock! What world? Everything gone now, vanished, disintegrated into thin air, the tiniest particles vaporized into non-existence. Not a remnant remaining except for the tortured thoughts brought about by that one memory that refused to disappear no matter how painfully the ever increasing toll that it took on his physical body and on his ever working brain, overwhelming him in the process, the remembrance bringing him to his knees, shutting out all other thoughts as well as the rest of the world.
International Suspense Thriller
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It's as if she never existed--and neither Saudi Arabia nor the United States government will investigate...
A simple trip to the Middle East for Stan and Valerie Halsey ends in chilling confusion and despair as Valerie seemingly falls off the face of the earth, leaving no trace of her existence behind.
Back in the States, B.J. wakes up night after night in a cold sweat from the exact same torturous nightmare that takes place in a country he has never been to. Both B.J. and Stan suspect that they have been sucked into a conspiracy that threatens to consume them and everyone they love.
With time running out fast before they can get answers, they have unwittingly entered into a very dangerous game...one that they may not survive.
If you love fast-paced international thrillers, then take on COVERT DREAMS. It is like "reading Robert Ludlum and the Bourne series" (Dale Roberts).
A simple trip to the Middle East for Stan and Valerie Halsey ends in chilling confusion and despair as Valerie seemingly falls off the face of the earth, leaving no trace of her existence behind.
Back in the States, B.J. wakes up night after night in a cold sweat from the exact same torturous nightmare that takes place in a country he has never been to. Both B.J. and Stan suspect that they have been sucked into a conspiracy that threatens to consume them and everyone they love.
With time running out fast before they can get answers, they have unwittingly entered into a very dangerous game...one that they may not survive.
If you love fast-paced international thrillers, then take on COVERT DREAMS. It is like "reading Robert Ludlum and the Bourne series" (Dale Roberts).
The Munich all around her was bustling with activity. She could hear it from all directions. Munich was a wonderful city, a fun-loving place, the live and let live ebullience of the city emanating from its every nook and cranny. She had had a lovely stay here. All of it had been so adventurous, so new, so unlike life back home in Arizona. She could vividly recall the first time she had ventured into a Munich beer garden, where the liter mugs had been so huge that she had had to lift hers with both hands, and the giggles, from him, until he too had had to use both hands.
The fumbling noises he had been making came to an abrupt halt. He began stroking her cheek again. Gus looked so happy, so young, so full of life. It was so hard to imagine that he could be so heavily involved in all this horror.
Gus smiled at her once more. His eyes were soft, so gentle, so caring, so loving.
Maybe this was some kind of huge mistake. Maybe he wasn't going to kill her after all. Maybe everything would turn out happily ever after. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.
But then suddenly she saw it clearly. It was no fairy tale. There would be no maybe. This was real, as real as the mixture of sadness and fear that now flooded her brain.
And then she died, with her eyes wide open, challenging, piercing his to the end.
The fumbling noises he had been making came to an abrupt halt. He began stroking her cheek again. Gus looked so happy, so young, so full of life. It was so hard to imagine that he could be so heavily involved in all this horror.
Gus smiled at her once more. His eyes were soft, so gentle, so caring, so loving.
Maybe this was some kind of huge mistake. Maybe he wasn't going to kill her after all. Maybe everything would turn out happily ever after. Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.
But then suddenly she saw it clearly. It was no fairy tale. There would be no maybe. This was real, as real as the mixture of sadness and fear that now flooded her brain.
And then she died, with her eyes wide open, challenging, piercing his to the end.
Mystery
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When Cuff and Rosie, laid-back lovers on their idyllic Caribbean paradise of St. Croix, are just beginning to move their relationship to the next level, they suddenly find themselves entangled in the crosshairs of an unknown stalker whose relentless pursuit knows no bounds. Now, with their lives on the line and time running short, they know they must act fast or they will die.
If you enjoy mysteries set in exotic locales, then don't miss DEADLY EYES with its "fast paced action coupled with the mesmerizing and intense suspense." (Marilou George - The Kindle Book Review)
From the author who takes you from boisterous Munich to the burning sands of Saudi Arabia in COVERT DREAMS.
Semifinalist for the Best Indie Books of 2012 award.
If you enjoy mysteries set in exotic locales, then don't miss DEADLY EYES with its "fast paced action coupled with the mesmerizing and intense suspense." (Marilou George - The Kindle Book Review)
From the author who takes you from boisterous Munich to the burning sands of Saudi Arabia in COVERT DREAMS.
Semifinalist for the Best Indie Books of 2012 award.
These were not naked eyes, for the distance between these eyes and the beach bar at Cathy's Fancy was too great for the naked eye to discern who was who. No, these eyes had planned meticulously. The eyes were glued to a pair of terribly expensive and unbelievably powerful Swarovski Optik binoculars. The balcony on which they now worked, taking in the scene before them, was the perfect place to see but not be seen. The powerful binoculars saw to that.
The distance, the palm trees, and the rays of the sun all helped. The position had been hand picked, after careful consideration. Every angle had been considered, and, one by one, they had all been discarded for one reason or another until this very spot, the perfect place to observe while not being observed, had been selected.
Yes, the eyes had seen it all. The eyes had seen precisely what they had hoped to see. They were like a master puppeteer. They planned, controlled, and observed, but from a safe distance. They did not miss a trick.
The eyes. The deadly eyes of St. Croix.
The distance, the palm trees, and the rays of the sun all helped. The position had been hand picked, after careful consideration. Every angle had been considered, and, one by one, they had all been discarded for one reason or another until this very spot, the perfect place to observe while not being observed, had been selected.
Yes, the eyes had seen it all. The eyes had seen precisely what they had hoped to see. They were like a master puppeteer. They planned, controlled, and observed, but from a safe distance. They did not miss a trick.
The eyes. The deadly eyes of St. Croix.
Inspirational Love & Romance, memoir
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FINALIST for the 2014 RONE AWARD
Love was then.
Love is now.
Love is forever.
When tragedy struck, I thought for sure that my own life was at an end. I was wrong. This is the true story of how love once again brought romance and laughter back into my life.
If you love reading feel-good memoirs, then don't miss THE THREE KITTIES THAT SAVED MY LIFE. It "is one of the most moving books I've ever read." (Nick Russell)
It is amazing how time helps. In time, I have learned to overcome my own albatross. I have learned to live again, to love again. Life is a gift reads a plaque on our dining room wall, and that sums up what I have gained from the three kitties that saved my life. From Coco, I learned to care again. From Kitty, I learned to love again. From Pom Pom, I have learned how to cope with my own demons, the effects of aging being one of these. Pom Pom has taught me to accept what is and then to move onward. Yes, I have learned plenty from my three kitties.
My journey has been a long one, a difficult one at times, but it has a happy ending. The three kitties in my life have made it so. They have all helped me to become the happy-to-be-alive man that I am today. I now accept rather than cope. I live each day to the fullest, knowing full well that life is a gift, and a very precious one at that. I look back on my life and I often think that I must be the luckiest man in the world. I have so much to be thankful for. The wonderment and beauty of life are both so dear to me.
And, to add a delicious icing to the lovely taste of my life, I can say with total honesty to the whole world, my voice booming into the sky, my dancing feet not caring in the least who might see me, that I have been very fortunate to have done something that brings more sheer delight and wonderful pride to me than anything else that I have accomplished in my life: I have fallen madly, head-over-heels in love not once, but twice, and how many others can say that?
My journey has been a long one, a difficult one at times, but it has a happy ending. The three kitties in my life have made it so. They have all helped me to become the happy-to-be-alive man that I am today. I now accept rather than cope. I live each day to the fullest, knowing full well that life is a gift, and a very precious one at that. I look back on my life and I often think that I must be the luckiest man in the world. I have so much to be thankful for. The wonderment and beauty of life are both so dear to me.
And, to add a delicious icing to the lovely taste of my life, I can say with total honesty to the whole world, my voice booming into the sky, my dancing feet not caring in the least who might see me, that I have been very fortunate to have done something that brings more sheer delight and wonderful pride to me than anything else that I have accomplished in my life: I have fallen madly, head-over-heels in love not once, but twice, and how many others can say that?
MoB Promotions
Awake on Garland Street by Laura Strickland
AWAKE ON GARLAND STREET
part of The Wild Rose Press' "Ghost Story Series"
by Laura Strickland
Publisher: The Wild Rose Press
Genre: Romantic Comedy
Genre: Romantic Comedy
Brendan O’Rourke hasn’t had a decent night’s sleep since he arrived back at the family home in St. John’s, Newfoundland. The famed Celtic fiddler’s being haunted by the ghost of his great-grandfather, Charlie, who’s bent on keeping Brendan from ruining his life with the same selfish choice he made between music and the woman he loved.
Grace Dawe was finished with Brendan O’Rourke eight years ago when he chose music over their relationship. So why can’t she look at him now without going weak in the knees? And why, when he offers everything she’s ever wanted, is she considering his welfare above her own? Not until a beautiful old tune shows them the true meaning of love will they find a way to play their own song.
Grace Dawe was finished with Brendan O’Rourke eight years ago when he chose music over their relationship. So why can’t she look at him now without going weak in the knees? And why, when he offers everything she’s ever wanted, is she considering his welfare above her own? Not until a beautiful old tune shows them the true meaning of love will they find a way to play their own song.
How unfair could life be? Grace Dawe bit the inside of her lip so hard it brought tears to her eyes. She’d been telling herself for days—ever since she learned Brendan O’Rourke had landed back in St. John’s—she could cope with seeing him. She’d resolved that she wouldn’t avoid her usual haunts on his account, wouldn’t change her habits. And now here she stood in Fitzgerald’s facing him and wishing she could fall through the floor.
He had no right to look so good—better in fact than he had when they parted in a storm of tears and bitter recriminations eight years ago, a break that had shredded her heart. She’d put that heart back together in the intervening years—or thought she had. Yet here she stood with it bleeding in her chest.
Because those intervening years had been kind to him, very kind. No longer the boy with whom she fell so wildly in love, he’d become the man she’d foreseen, his long, lanky legs clothed in a pair of faded jeans, shoulders encased in a worn leather jacket that looked soft as butter, his reddish-brown hair—full of wave—tumbling over his brow as it always had. The beard was new, but it became him. The lean cheeks, marked by long dimples when he smiled, remained the same, as did those hazel eyes, bright with intelligence and a spark of devilry, set under level brows.
Oh, heaven help her, she still wanted him. And she couldn’t let him see it. She absolutely could not let him see.
He had no right to look so good—better in fact than he had when they parted in a storm of tears and bitter recriminations eight years ago, a break that had shredded her heart. She’d put that heart back together in the intervening years—or thought she had. Yet here she stood with it bleeding in her chest.
Because those intervening years had been kind to him, very kind. No longer the boy with whom she fell so wildly in love, he’d become the man she’d foreseen, his long, lanky legs clothed in a pair of faded jeans, shoulders encased in a worn leather jacket that looked soft as butter, his reddish-brown hair—full of wave—tumbling over his brow as it always had. The beard was new, but it became him. The lean cheeks, marked by long dimples when he smiled, remained the same, as did those hazel eyes, bright with intelligence and a spark of devilry, set under level brows.
Oh, heaven help her, she still wanted him. And she couldn’t let him see it. She absolutely could not let him see.
Born and raised in Western New York, award-winning author Laura Strickland has pursued lifelong interests in lore, legend, magic and music, all reflected in her writing. She's made pilgrimages to both Newfoundland and Scotland in the company of her daughter, but is usually happiest at home not far from Lake Ontario, with her husband and her "fur" child, a rescue dog. Awake on Garland Street is her sixteenth book with The Wild Rose press.
Brendan O'Rourke's Irish heritage and his family tree are both important to him, so to celebrate the release of his story, Laura Strickland is giving away a Celtic Tree of Life pendant and earring set, specially hand-crafted by Pam of Mum's Other Job!
MoB Promotions
October 31, 2016
The Deck of Cards Killer by Lisa Bilbrey
THE DECK OF CARDS KILLER
A Zoe Mack Novel
by Lisa Bilbrey
Genre: Contemporary Romantic Suspense
With a trail of murdered women leading up the west coast, Zoe Mack gets an unexpected invitation to work with the Federal Bureau of Investigation. Zoe’s arrival to the FBI is less than ideal, however, and she struggles to find her place on the team. Her new partner isn’t helping. Jeremiah Johnson makes it clear that he doesn’t want or need someone like her — someone with a past tied to their suspect.
She has personal knowledge about their killer, and accepts this chance to get her feet inside the door, even if that means working with her ex-partner Elijah Stone. A brutal attack tore them apart, their friendship still strained by pain and anger.
Zoe vows to close their case and end the reign of terror that has haunted her, even if that means she loses herself along the way.
She has personal knowledge about their killer, and accepts this chance to get her feet inside the door, even if that means working with her ex-partner Elijah Stone. A brutal attack tore them apart, their friendship still strained by pain and anger.
Zoe vows to close their case and end the reign of terror that has haunted her, even if that means she loses herself along the way.
Zoe snarled. “I swear to God, if you’re lying to me . . .”
“We’re not,” Chase insisted. “You’re acting like a goddamn lunatic.”
Zoe released them and took a step backward, aware of the fact that people had stopped to stare at her. Her legs felt heavy and her arms trembled.
“I’m sorry. I . . .” But unable continue, she turned and rushed into the building, bypassing the elevator and taking the stairs. However, she had barely made it up one flight when someone grabbed her arm and spun her around.
Jeremiah.
For a long moment, he didn’t say anything, just stood there and stared at her. His eyes were dark, foreboding, and filled with need and desire. As he took a step toward her, causing her to fall against the wall behind her, his hands came up to cup her face.
“I . . .” He murmured, his lips parting as he leaned closer to her. “Tell me to stop.”
Though she knew she should, the words died out in her throat.
Jeremiah closed the gap between them, his lips touching against hers. Zoe grabbed the front of his shirt, intending to push him away, but found herself pulling him closer, needing him closer. Their mouths danced against each other’s, their tongues sliding between their lips, and their hands gripping and tugging, lust taking control.
However, the sound of a door opening brought Zoe back to reality and she shoved Jeremiah away, her hands releasing the front of his shirt. Before he could say anything, she turned and bolted up the stairs, leaving him behind. What the hell had she been thinking?
“We’re not,” Chase insisted. “You’re acting like a goddamn lunatic.”
Zoe released them and took a step backward, aware of the fact that people had stopped to stare at her. Her legs felt heavy and her arms trembled.
“I’m sorry. I . . .” But unable continue, she turned and rushed into the building, bypassing the elevator and taking the stairs. However, she had barely made it up one flight when someone grabbed her arm and spun her around.
Jeremiah.
For a long moment, he didn’t say anything, just stood there and stared at her. His eyes were dark, foreboding, and filled with need and desire. As he took a step toward her, causing her to fall against the wall behind her, his hands came up to cup her face.
“I . . .” He murmured, his lips parting as he leaned closer to her. “Tell me to stop.”
Though she knew she should, the words died out in her throat.
Jeremiah closed the gap between them, his lips touching against hers. Zoe grabbed the front of his shirt, intending to push him away, but found herself pulling him closer, needing him closer. Their mouths danced against each other’s, their tongues sliding between their lips, and their hands gripping and tugging, lust taking control.
However, the sound of a door opening brought Zoe back to reality and she shoved Jeremiah away, her hands releasing the front of his shirt. Before he could say anything, she turned and bolted up the stairs, leaving him behind. What the hell had she been thinking?
Obsessive, compulsive, slightly crazed, but enough about her personality. First and foremost, Lisa Bilbrey is a mom to three and a wife to one. She loves to write, and spends the majority of everyday writing. It's who she is, and what she's meant to be doing. Words are her life, the air she breathes, and the nutrients of her soul. Finding a love in the written word, Lisa Bilbrey started writing as a way to express herself and let her voice be heard. From the first word she wrote, she'd found her heart and soul.Always willing to learn, she's spends much of her time trying to improve as a storyteller.
MoB Promotions
OBLIVION by Joshua Ryan Ogg
OBLIVION
A MEDICINE MAN NOVEL
by Joshua Ryan Ogg
Genre: Urban Supernatural Thriller
A maniac is murdering gang leaders in the desert outside San Diego, black magic is whispered in back alleys, and zombie tweekers roam the streets. The world stands on the brink of something sinister and occult but the only guy Donnie DeGrassi knows that can solve this supernatural puzzle is a recluse that hides out in his beach shack, talking to spirits and brewing hallucinogenic compounds. Some say he’s crazy, others claim he’s genius, but those that dose Kal Renley's chemicals just know him as the Medicine Man. Can Donnie get his old friend out of retirement before reality gets as ugly as the underworld?
Mek, I can’t get it out…
He felt it nesting already in the slimy folds of his subconscious and somehow he’d failed at his own game. A snake expert taken out by venom.
Eden was horrified. She burst into tears and kept repeating “Oh god, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” as she backed away to the door.
Kal tried to raise a hand to stop her but he was shaky and weak.
“You have to shut it out,” Meklyn hissed. He was protective of Kal’s mind—that’s where he lived, after all—but this one had gotten the jump on them both.
“I’m sorry,” Eden stammered in horror and guilt before disappearing into the rain-soaked night.
“No wait,” Kal pleaded but the curse was sending him into shock. The effects of that sigil still writhed inside his head and, for a moment, he wasn’t sure if he was really this cosmic millennial medicine man that had spoken to gods, wrestled angels, and banished demons or if he was just a delusional addict with severe psychological issues.
Probably both.
Images of horror and shame raced through him and he thrashed violently. Something was on him, chasing him down the long halls of his mind. Something that got inside him with just a glance at that symbol.
Heather’s death, the clan violence, the shadow hunters on the astral plane, all the things that drove him into seclusion and out of the game, it all swarmed his mind at once. The cabinet he had been holding shut for months came bursting open to spill the slimy contents of his repressed subconscious into plain view.
He stumbled toward the kitchen and crashed through drawers and shelves in search of something to ward off the effects. He was looking for something specific. His own special tonic. His Joos.
But he knew better. He didn’t keep any in the house. Had a slight problem staying away from it when a supply was on hand. His own little vice. But now he needed it. Whatever curse had been embedded in that girl’s ink was currently kicking the shit out of him from the inside.
Kal managed to get to his feet, the world spinning and screaming around him, and stumbled out into the rain. Only one place in this neighborhood kept the Joos.
Kal stumbled, sick and puking, through the night, wavering on the edge of a mad abyss, looking and groping for help, for a fix of his own. For his own medicine.
He felt it nesting already in the slimy folds of his subconscious and somehow he’d failed at his own game. A snake expert taken out by venom.
Eden was horrified. She burst into tears and kept repeating “Oh god, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” as she backed away to the door.
Kal tried to raise a hand to stop her but he was shaky and weak.
“You have to shut it out,” Meklyn hissed. He was protective of Kal’s mind—that’s where he lived, after all—but this one had gotten the jump on them both.
“I’m sorry,” Eden stammered in horror and guilt before disappearing into the rain-soaked night.
“No wait,” Kal pleaded but the curse was sending him into shock. The effects of that sigil still writhed inside his head and, for a moment, he wasn’t sure if he was really this cosmic millennial medicine man that had spoken to gods, wrestled angels, and banished demons or if he was just a delusional addict with severe psychological issues.
Probably both.
Images of horror and shame raced through him and he thrashed violently. Something was on him, chasing him down the long halls of his mind. Something that got inside him with just a glance at that symbol.
Heather’s death, the clan violence, the shadow hunters on the astral plane, all the things that drove him into seclusion and out of the game, it all swarmed his mind at once. The cabinet he had been holding shut for months came bursting open to spill the slimy contents of his repressed subconscious into plain view.
He stumbled toward the kitchen and crashed through drawers and shelves in search of something to ward off the effects. He was looking for something specific. His own special tonic. His Joos.
But he knew better. He didn’t keep any in the house. Had a slight problem staying away from it when a supply was on hand. His own little vice. But now he needed it. Whatever curse had been embedded in that girl’s ink was currently kicking the shit out of him from the inside.
Kal managed to get to his feet, the world spinning and screaming around him, and stumbled out into the rain. Only one place in this neighborhood kept the Joos.
Kal stumbled, sick and puking, through the night, wavering on the edge of a mad abyss, looking and groping for help, for a fix of his own. For his own medicine.
Joshua Ryan Ogg has worked in entertainment media and digital marketing for close to a decade. Oblivion is his first published novel. He can usually be found in Ohio or California with his wife and two children.Josh likes to connect with readers on social media and maintains a blog full of half-drunken ramblings and utter nonsense.
MoB Promotions
PAPER LOVE by Aubrey Wynne
PAPER LOVE
Book 2 of A Chicago Christmas series
by Aubrey Wynne
Genre: Contemporary Holiday Romance
Growing up in a Papua New Guinea mission, Joss Palmateer is a gentle soul with a unique view of life. Still adjusting to a new home in the U.S and the sudden loss of her mother, love is the last thing on her mind. Sexy physical therapist, Ben Montgomery, meets his sister’s friend and the sparks fly. He takes it as a challenge when she ignores his advances, but it’s her extraordinary inner beauty that captures his heart. With the help of a stray homing pigeon and an old origami legend, Ben sets an unwavering course of romance to win her love.
As they walked past the fountain, he stopped, swallowed, and plunged into the speech he’d planned for the last week. “Joss, I know you are hesitant to date me, and I understand your reasons. I can’t blame you but it’s also not my fault that I’m...popular.”
She opened her mouth to speak, and he gently put a finger on her lips. “Hear me out. Since I laid eyes on you that night, my world has tilted. I feel a connection to you that I’ve never felt before, and I think you feel the same.”
She took his finger in her hand. “I don’t know if I’m in a place where I can move forward with a relationship.” Her eyes held a pain that threatened to rip his chest open. He wanted to heal her, remove the hurt from her eyes now and forever.
“I know that. I’ve just finished my internship, and I’m starting a permanent position at the clinic.” He paused, stroking her cheek with the back of his finger. “Let’s take a month to get to know each other. You decide if you are staying or going back to your old life. I’ll get settled into my new job. We see each other as friends, no pressure or romance.”
“So no strings.”
“Exactly. Except I won’t be seeing anyone else. I need to prove to you that I’m not a player. Then in a month, we’ll reassess. If you are in a good place by then, we’ll make it official and start dating.” He let out a sigh. He couldn’t read her face at all.
“One month?” She looked up at him, her eyes narrowed. “You’ve thought this through, haven’t you?”
He nodded, hoping this brilliant idea didn’t backfire on him. “It’s a deal. So I’ll see you without any romantic overtures?”
He hesitated. Not kissing her over the next month would be one of the hardest things he’d ever done. “No romance starting tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“I want you to know what you may be missing. Over the next month you can think about this.” He cupped her face in his hands, brushing his lips softly against hers. Every muscle in his body jumped to attention at the touch. His desire flared, and his head dipped again, covering her lips, coaxing her to respond.
Her hands gripped his biceps, clinging to him as if she might fall. A soft sigh escaped her, and he thought he would explode. He buried his face in her shoulder, her silky hair caressing his cheek as he breathed in the scent of her. Joss had been sent to him. He would start the next phase of his life with her by his side. And he would pull her through her troubled waters. Ben gave her one more lingering kiss then pulled her hand through his arm. They walked silently toward the parking garage.
His heart thumped slow and steady as he realized he’d found love. No sweaty palms. No racing heart. No panic. It was more like an enchantment, this discovery of a person who filled him with peace and hope, who made him want to be better, be a hero for someone else. But his usual bulldozer style would not work on Joss. Exuberance and charm would bounce off her shield. Patience and determination were the key; Joss would pay attention to his actions not his words.
Just like his beating heart, slow and steady would win this race.
She opened her mouth to speak, and he gently put a finger on her lips. “Hear me out. Since I laid eyes on you that night, my world has tilted. I feel a connection to you that I’ve never felt before, and I think you feel the same.”
She took his finger in her hand. “I don’t know if I’m in a place where I can move forward with a relationship.” Her eyes held a pain that threatened to rip his chest open. He wanted to heal her, remove the hurt from her eyes now and forever.
“I know that. I’ve just finished my internship, and I’m starting a permanent position at the clinic.” He paused, stroking her cheek with the back of his finger. “Let’s take a month to get to know each other. You decide if you are staying or going back to your old life. I’ll get settled into my new job. We see each other as friends, no pressure or romance.”
“So no strings.”
“Exactly. Except I won’t be seeing anyone else. I need to prove to you that I’m not a player. Then in a month, we’ll reassess. If you are in a good place by then, we’ll make it official and start dating.” He let out a sigh. He couldn’t read her face at all.
“One month?” She looked up at him, her eyes narrowed. “You’ve thought this through, haven’t you?”
He nodded, hoping this brilliant idea didn’t backfire on him. “It’s a deal. So I’ll see you without any romantic overtures?”
He hesitated. Not kissing her over the next month would be one of the hardest things he’d ever done. “No romance starting tomorrow.”
“Tomorrow?”
“I want you to know what you may be missing. Over the next month you can think about this.” He cupped her face in his hands, brushing his lips softly against hers. Every muscle in his body jumped to attention at the touch. His desire flared, and his head dipped again, covering her lips, coaxing her to respond.
Her hands gripped his biceps, clinging to him as if she might fall. A soft sigh escaped her, and he thought he would explode. He buried his face in her shoulder, her silky hair caressing his cheek as he breathed in the scent of her. Joss had been sent to him. He would start the next phase of his life with her by his side. And he would pull her through her troubled waters. Ben gave her one more lingering kiss then pulled her hand through his arm. They walked silently toward the parking garage.
His heart thumped slow and steady as he realized he’d found love. No sweaty palms. No racing heart. No panic. It was more like an enchantment, this discovery of a person who filled him with peace and hope, who made him want to be better, be a hero for someone else. But his usual bulldozer style would not work on Joss. Exuberance and charm would bounce off her shield. Patience and determination were the key; Joss would pay attention to his actions not his words.
Just like his beating heart, slow and steady would win this race.
Book 1
Kathleen James has put her practical side away for once and looks forward to the perfect romantic evening: an intimate dinner with the man of her dreams—and an engagement ring. She is not prepared to hear that he wants to bring his grandmother back from Italy to live with him.
Dominic Lawrence has planned this marriage proposal for six months. Nothing can go wrong—until his Nonna calls. Now he must interrupt the tenderest night of Katie’s life with the news that another woman will be under their roof.
When Antonia’s sister dies, she finds herself longing to be back in the states. An Italian wartime bride from the ‘40s, she knows how precious love can be. Can her own story of an American soldier and a very special collie once again bring two hearts together at Christmas?
Kathleen James has put her practical side away for once and looks forward to the perfect romantic evening: an intimate dinner with the man of her dreams—and an engagement ring. She is not prepared to hear that he wants to bring his grandmother back from Italy to live with him.
Dominic Lawrence has planned this marriage proposal for six months. Nothing can go wrong—until his Nonna calls. Now he must interrupt the tenderest night of Katie’s life with the news that another woman will be under their roof.
When Antonia’s sister dies, she finds herself longing to be back in the states. An Italian wartime bride from the ‘40s, she knows how precious love can be. Can her own story of an American soldier and a very special collie once again bring two hearts together at Christmas?
Winner of the Golden Quill, The Aspen Gold and the Heart of Excellence RWA awards.
Book 3
**Based on the short story of the same title.**
Henry, a shy and talented artist, moonlights as a security guard at a museum and loses his heart to a beautiful, melancholy woman in a painting. As his obsession grows, he finds a kindred soul who helps him in his search for happiness. On Christmas Eve, Henry dares to take a chance on love and fulfill his dream.
**Based on the short story of the same title.**
Henry, a shy and talented artist, moonlights as a security guard at a museum and loses his heart to a beautiful, melancholy woman in a painting. As his obsession grows, he finds a kindred soul who helps him in his search for happiness. On Christmas Eve, Henry dares to take a chance on love and fulfill his dream.
PRE-ORDER TODAY
Amazon ✯ Books2Read
Bestselling and award-winning author Aubrey Wynne resides in the Midwest with her husband, dogs, horses, mule and barn cats. She is an elementary teacher by trade, champion of children and animals by conscience, and author by night. Obsessions include history, travel, trail riding and all things Christmas.Her short stories, Merry Christmas, Henry and Pete's Mighty Purty Privies have won Readers Choice Awards and Dante's Gift received the 2016 Golden Quill and Heart of Excellence award, as well as being a Maggie and Aspen Gold finalist.
Besides her Chicago Christmas novellas, Aubrey will release "A Vintage Romance" series inspired by tales of her stepfather, who served for the British Air Force in WWII. The stories will be set in the 40s & 50s. Her medieval fantasy series will launch in 2017 with Rolf's Quest.
Goodreads ✯ Twitter ✯ Facebook ✯ Amazon ✯ Website ✯ Instagram
Subscribe to Aubrey's newsletter for new releases and exclusive excerpts and free stories.
A place of handsome knights, dashing gentlemen, beautiful, sassy women, and romance from the past to the present. You’ll also have some opportunities to help promote Aubrey with her upcoming releases if you feel so inclined. There is fun to be had, prizes to be given, and heroes and heroines to fall in love with. Come join Aubrey's street team.
MoB Promotions
October 26, 2016
Halloween Specials
Just had to let you know that if you enjoy a bit of spook - here are some reads for you!
13 - horror
The deck is stacked, but is it against you? 13: viewBook.at/B00BGRWLZI
It's also an audiobook -
UK - https://goo.gl/9LL3Tb
USA - https://goo.gl/aWXOTq
***
The Box That Jane Built (4 chilling tales)
Tales to chill your blood and bones. The Box That Jane Built: myBook.to/theboxthatjanebuilt
This is also an audiobook
UK - https://goo.gl/TZuTZX
USA - https://goo.gl/H92aXg
***
The Weird series (3 so far) is a paranormal account from Henry Ian Darling's missives.
Weird: Henry Ian Darling Oddity: Missive One
Weird: A Henry Ian Darling Oddity: Missive One – How close is he? mybook.to/Weird
The Kindle edition is FREE!
Audiobook
UK - https://goo.gl/BnNUVk
USA - https://goo.gl/EwoMXj
***
Weird: A Henry Ian Darling Oddity: Missive Two
Henry’s Back! myBook.to/Weird2
Audiobook
UK - https://goo.gl/hls37h
USA - https://goo.gl/8Wr6V2
***
Weird: A Henry Ian Darling Oddity: Missive Three
Weird: A Henry Ian Darling Oddity: Missive Three myBook.to/Weird3 Will Henry survive the Shadowlands?
Audiobook
UK - https://goo.gl/Lg7bgF
USA - https://goo.gl/9CvSqs
**************************************************
It's not just my books you may enjoy for a Halloween shiver - have a look at this new book from Maria Savva.
It's called, The Spider
The Spider http://mybook.to/spidermariasavva
Blurb:
No one’s ever come out of that house alive...’
What lurks behind the door of 8 Goldfern Road?
Are you brave enough to step inside?
By entering the sinister house, George and Glen become entangled in a dangerous battle of wills.
“The Spider” is a story of obsession, infidelity, and broken dreams.
This darkly humorous mystery will appeal to fantasy and romance readers as well as those who love to hate spiders!
My review:
As always, Maria Savva writes with skill, stories that immediately hook you - The Spider is no exception.
It's not easy saying too much without spoilers, but I will say that this story is spooky, mysterious, intriguing and thought-provoking. The characters are well-developed, realistic and believable, despite the fantasy /paranormal story line.
Its descriptions are deliciously atmospheric and...ooh, I can't say anything else...read it for yourself, you won't regret it.
Recommended read!!!
You can find Maria on Goodreads of course -
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show...
Amazon: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Maria-Savva/...
Website: http://www.mariasavva.com/site/
The Spider isn't the only creepy (enjoyable) book she's written in addition to other genres.
***
So, my time's up here, as numerous projects await alongside those millions of things we have to do in both writing and 'life'.
Oh yes, if you do enjoy these books, please think about posting a postive review - us independent authors thrive on your encouragement.
Thank you!!!
13 - horror
The deck is stacked, but is it against you? 13: viewBook.at/B00BGRWLZI
It's also an audiobook -
UK - https://goo.gl/9LL3Tb
USA - https://goo.gl/aWXOTq
***
The Box That Jane Built (4 chilling tales)
Tales to chill your blood and bones. The Box That Jane Built: myBook.to/theboxthatjanebuilt
This is also an audiobook
UK - https://goo.gl/TZuTZX
USA - https://goo.gl/H92aXg
***
The Weird series (3 so far) is a paranormal account from Henry Ian Darling's missives.
Weird: Henry Ian Darling Oddity: Missive One
Weird: A Henry Ian Darling Oddity: Missive One – How close is he? mybook.to/Weird
The Kindle edition is FREE!
Audiobook
UK - https://goo.gl/BnNUVk
USA - https://goo.gl/EwoMXj
***
Weird: A Henry Ian Darling Oddity: Missive Two
Henry’s Back! myBook.to/Weird2
Audiobook
UK - https://goo.gl/hls37h
USA - https://goo.gl/8Wr6V2
***
Weird: A Henry Ian Darling Oddity: Missive Three
Weird: A Henry Ian Darling Oddity: Missive Three myBook.to/Weird3 Will Henry survive the Shadowlands?
Audiobook
UK - https://goo.gl/Lg7bgF
USA - https://goo.gl/9CvSqs
**************************************************
It's not just my books you may enjoy for a Halloween shiver - have a look at this new book from Maria Savva.
It's called, The Spider
The Spider http://mybook.to/spidermariasavva
Blurb:
No one’s ever come out of that house alive...’
What lurks behind the door of 8 Goldfern Road?
Are you brave enough to step inside?
By entering the sinister house, George and Glen become entangled in a dangerous battle of wills.
“The Spider” is a story of obsession, infidelity, and broken dreams.
This darkly humorous mystery will appeal to fantasy and romance readers as well as those who love to hate spiders!
My review:
As always, Maria Savva writes with skill, stories that immediately hook you - The Spider is no exception.
It's not easy saying too much without spoilers, but I will say that this story is spooky, mysterious, intriguing and thought-provoking. The characters are well-developed, realistic and believable, despite the fantasy /paranormal story line.
Its descriptions are deliciously atmospheric and...ooh, I can't say anything else...read it for yourself, you won't regret it.
Recommended read!!!
You can find Maria on Goodreads of course -
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show...
Amazon: https://www.amazon.co.uk/Maria-Savva/...
Website: http://www.mariasavva.com/site/
The Spider isn't the only creepy (enjoyable) book she's written in addition to other genres.
***
So, my time's up here, as numerous projects await alongside those millions of things we have to do in both writing and 'life'.
Oh yes, if you do enjoy these books, please think about posting a postive review - us independent authors thrive on your encouragement.
Thank you!!!
