Isabel Roman's Blog, page 8

#CoverReveal: Love Brothers Series by Liz Crowe @beerwencha2

This post is part of a virtual book tour to reveal the covers of Liz Crowe's newest series The Love Brothers: Love Garage, Coach Love, Love Brewing, and Family Love.

Antony Love is the quintessential responsible oldest brother of a boisterous, Italian/Irish family, placed in charge at a young age by his parents who are busy running the family business. He manages his siblings with a fair but iron hand, until his life is shattered by personal tragedy leaving him the shell of the man he once was.

When outspoken matriarch Lindsay Halloran Love becomes ill, the youngest brother Aiden shows up at Antony's garage, having dropped out of school (again), needing work and a place to crash. Antony provides both, with three caveats: "Don't smoke in my truck, don't be late for work, and don't mess with my girlfriend."

But Aiden Love, budding novelist, gets one glimpse of Rosalee Norris, young widow of Antony's lifelong best friend and all bets are off.

Set in horse country near Lexington, Kentucky, The Love Brothers Series is a saga of family devotion that runs as wide and deep as the Ohio River--except on Sundays when brothers Antony, Kieran, Dominic and Aiden work out their frustrations on the basketball court, Love brother style.

The Love Brothers: A family saga with humor, heat and heart—not to mention beer, bourbon and basketball

Enjoy an excerpt from Love Garage:

Love Garage opened bright and early the next morning, a Saturday, a day Aiden had hoped to spend recovering.

“I get so many oil changes and random small jobs on Saturdays, it doesn’t make sense to be closed and let the jackasses with the Quickilube at Walmart get the business,” Antony insisted when Aiden groaned with dismay upon being awakened after two hours of drunken sleep. It didn’t help that the awakening occurred at the business end of a thrown pillow. “Get up, Romeo. You owe me rent money.”

He did, slowly, queasily hitting a shower, sore all over, his skin mottled from bug bites. But nothing topped the glorious agony of a bourbon hangover like the one that had him firmly in its evil grasp.

He slouched out the door, cursing Antony, cursing Tricia, cursing her ex-husband for throwing her in his path last night. But mostly cursing his own weak-ass uselessness. He rested his head against the cool comfort of the truck window until Antony hit a bump or two, which sent extra pain jolting down his spine.

“Sorry,” his brother muttered, glancing over at him.

“No, you’re not.”

“Got me there. And you’d better warn me if you’re about to toss your cookies. I won’t have that in my vehicle, got me?”

Aiden rubbed his neck and nodded, swallowing the urge to throw up all over the pristine interior on principal. “Why d’you hate me so much? You used to like me.” He stared over at his brother, heart thumping, ears humming, throat closing up with nausea. He despised waking up still drunk.

“I don’t hate you.” Antony turned onto the main road headed into town.

“Could’ve fooled me. You’re a real asshole anymore. Worse than Dom.”

Antony merely shrugged, not rising to that tried-and-true bait. So they spent the rest of the ride to the garage in silence. Once there, Antony sat gripping the wheel. Aiden waited, hoping he’d get something out of him—something he would assure him that the man he thought he remembered as the protective, funny, and loving guy he’d grown up with still existed inside the guy walking around wearing Antony’s skin.

Finally, he let go of the wheel, exhaled, and squared his shoulders as if prepping for battle. Aiden made a mental note to talk to Kieran about how badly Antony had descended into his life of non-stop mourning and jerk-hood.

“So, Rosalee, not putting out for you or what? You need to get laid maybe? Knock the edge off?”

The glare Aiden got for saying those particular words did make him worry Antony might punch his aching head through the passenger-side window.

He clenched his jaw in the way Aiden remembered from their childhood. “That is so far outside the realm of your business as to be in another galaxy. Get to work and don’t say her name to me again.”

And with that, Aiden was left with the fleeting thought that mentioning Rosalee directly was probably not a good idea. He surely didn’t need Antony to guess that her name was on his lips, or front and center of his mind.

He shook his head—a Bad Plan because it summoned the pounding agony back with a vengeance. Groaning, he climbed out and shuffled over to the door.

A new day began at Love Garage.

PRE-ORDER LOVE GARAGE: Amazon

The smoldering intensity of first love ~ the forbidden fantasy of temptation ~ the cold hard facts of real life.

When one man’s hopes are dashed apart in a split second after years spent chasing a dream, he returns home to Kentucky furious at the world and everyone around him.

Kieran Francesco is the middle son of the volatile, tight-knit Halloran-Love family. His role as peacemaker and the one true athlete is well established. He now faces life devoid of the sport he adores after a horrific, career-ending accident, which places him in a new and entirely uncomfortable position—that of the brother with no future.

Over the course of a few tumultuous months Kieran is plunged back into life at the center of the Love family, where he must cope with one self-destructive brother, one ill-timed reconnection to an old flame and a series of bad choices that land him in more trouble than he’d ever known existed.

COACH LOVE, book 2 of The Love Brothers, a family saga of sibling loyalty that runs as deep and wide as the Ohio River—at least until Sunday, when Antony, Kieran, Dominic and Aiden work out their frustrations at the weekly Love brother pick-up basketball game.

Enjoy an excerpt from Coach Love:

As he drove the twenty or so miles from his parents’ house into town Kieran’s head began to clear. The windows were down and the tunes cranked. The sun shone. Signs of summer--one of his favorite seasons--were all around him. Parks packed with families, all the basketball courts and swimming pools overflowing. The sight of a gaggle of boys on bikes riding alongside him for a while, singing along with whatever random, crappy rap song currently polluted the airwaves made him smile.

“Hey, it’s Kieran Love!” one of the punks shouted after a few blocks. “Can you come over and shoot a few with us?”

He waved and drove on, gratified but sad, the sound of their cheerful unhappiness at his refusal filling his ears, taking the stretch of four lane road at seventy miles an hour, pressing the gas pedal to the floor, the throaty, powerful roar of the car’s engine revving him from head to toe.

It would be all right because he and Melinda loved each other. They had from the moment they’d met. He passed some grandpa in a Toyota, as the deep green fields surrounded by picturesque white fences and dotted with horses filled both sides of his vision.

He’d been home and recuperating from radical knee surgery with the best prognosis he could hope for after such a nasty break--to walk normally, much less play the occasional pick up game. His depression had been deep, wide, and terrifying. He woke every day at his parents’ house, unwilling even to get out of bed, not that he could without help for the first few weeks.

Antony had tossed a laptop computer at him one day when he’d been sulking, unshaven, and eating an entire bag of potato chips, something he’d not done since the age of ten when his fate--bound for basketball fame and fortune--had been determined.

“Here, find a job, find a date, find something,” he’d said before yanking the empty chip bag away and smacking Kieran’s head hard enough to make his ears ring.

“Ow. Leave me alone, asshole. I’m grievously injured,” he’d said, not caring about the swear-free zone he inhabited.

“That’s three dollars young man,” his mother had called out from the kitchen.

“You live with this, jerk, and see how you feel about finding ‘a date.’“ He’d hooked his fingers around the words, heart in his throat at how badly he’d wanted to call Cara right then.

But by the next weekend he was caning and limping his way toward the door to some faux-fancy Italian restaurant in Lexington, rubbing his freshly shaved face and trying not to sweat through his dress shirt. The woman from the internet site sat at the bar, twirling an olive-laden swizzle stick in her martini glass, long, slim, bare legs crossed, feet encased in sky-high patent leather heels. He’d exhaled, beyond relived that he’d not been cat-fished by some troll, or worse, a dude.

He’d hesitated then, something in him telling him to turn around and leave, fast. But at that moment, she’d flashed him the whitest, most perfect smile he’d ever seen and he’d been hooked. He still didn’t know how. They’d gone out for three weeks before she let him kiss her. It’d been another three weeks before he got anywhere near her tits. It had been a solid four months before he scored but that encounter had been, in a word, epic.

Melinda liked to talk dirty, wear heels and a garter belt while he fucked her. Loved doing it with all the lights on and in semi-public places. She gave head like a pro at first, before he’d given her an engagement ring.

Her bitchiness had come across as extreme decisiveness, sort of hot in way, he’d admit, since he tended toward the spontaneous and unplanned--”wishy washy” as he now understood it thanks to Melinda’s re-categorization of his personality. Her tight grip on her emotions and her surroundings, the OCD way she ordered her life did grate on him at times but he figured she tolerated his innate sloppiness and willingness to wake on a Sunday without a plan in place for the rest of the day. When he realized he sat across from her at some overpriced, hipster restaurant near her office after going out with her for eight months, ready to present her with a ring he could barely afford, it had shocked him without seeming to even faze her.

“Well, of course I’ll marry you, but you’ve got to find a better job,” she’d drawled as she sipped her champagne.

“A new job?” He’d gotten the teaching gig at his old high school and couldn’t imagine any job he’d want or like better. She made six figures for Christ’s sake, at least he thought she did.

Elated, drunk with lust and achievement, he’d tried to get his long legs adjusted under the small table jammed between all the others and covered with small plates of “tapas” which, best he could tell were “appetizers” only twice the price and half the helpings.

“I’ll do anything you want, Melinda. You saved me, honest to God you did.”

She’d fluttered her inky black lashes and gazed at him with an expression that convinced him he’d made the drastic move for the right reasons. The following year had been a combination of frustration, anger and high school level blue balls. The double drama Antony and Aiden had foisted on the Love family during that time hadn’t helped but it had distracted him. He’d taught his classes, helped out with the basketball team pro bono without telling Melinda and had been happier than he’d ever been as a pro athlete.

The fact that she maintained her uber-bitch persona around his family killed him. But he was hooked.

Still.

Mostly.

Every family has one—the black sheep, the problem child, the prodigal. But Dominic Sean Love could teach all of those guys a lesson or two. Stuck in the middle of a boisterous group of siblings, he’s given “acting out” a new meaning from the day he drew his first breath.

While he’s the one son who follows his strict father’s footsteps into the Love family business, he’s also the one who butts heads with him the hardest. Their epic clashes are the stuff of family legend. But they have made peace and work side by side to take Love Brewing to the next level of success.

Until Dominic does the one thing his father can never forgive.

Diana Brantley has been Dominic’s friend, girlfriend and ex-girlfriend so many times she’s lost count. When he shows up at the farm she’s slowly transforming into a wildly popular farm-to-table resource for restaurants all over the U.S. her first impulse is to shoot first and ask questions later. But she doesn’t. And their lives entwine once more, for good, bad and ugly.

Enjoy a pre-edited excerpt from Love Brewing:

Dominic would give anything be able to talk to Kieran. They’d gotten close in the last months since he’d required a rather alarming rescue from a jail down in Georgia and his brother had shown up, very few questions asked. But no, Kieran had his own issues and likely at that very moment was busy trying to convince his high school girlfriend to marry him, even as she stood dressed and ready to marry someone else.

He had to squeeze his eyes tight shut to banish images of Kent for the zillionth time.

“You need dry clothes,” Diana said, interrupting his pity party.

He shrugged and kept his gaze fixed on the view of rain. “Your garden looks like shit. When’s the last time you bothered to pull weeds?”

She snorted. He smiled. He used to love it when she’d do that. He’d honestly had no intention of showing up here today. The Brantley farm remained way off the beaten track, if the track around Lucasville could be considered “beaten” in any way. When he’d raced out of the stifling hot sanctuary and hotwired Kieran’s car he’d driven off without a single thought in his addled head other than “escape.”

But when he’d finally released his death grip on the steering wheel he’d looked through the windshield and found himself facing the old two-story farmhouse where he’d lost his virginity—not to Diana but to her sister Jen, an older version of the girl he’d been hanging around with since God was a boy. The whooshing sound that had deafened him for the last couple of days had receded ever so slightly at the sight of the place.

He’d not been anywhere near it in over six years, ever since he’d run out here to find Diana when Gina had bolted for New York. Her reaction to his surprise visit had been decidedly less hostile then. He groaned and ran a hand down his wet face.

No one to blame but yourself for this reception, numb nuts.

As if on cue, the dog whined and bumped his leg with its huge muzzle.

“Bossy bitch,” he said softly, giving her another scratch behind the ears. The animal gazed at him adoringly. Yeah, dogs always did love him. He glanced up and caught sight of Diana tugging on a shirt that looked way too big for her. The sight of it sent a thrill of something he didn’t want to acknowledge as jealousy down his spine.

You have less than no place being jealous of anything about her, he reminded himself. She stared at him as she buttoned up the light blue, obviously man-sized shirt. He had to restrain himself from blinking too fast at the onrushing memories that threatened to mow him down.

“Put on a few pounds eh Di?” he said, leaning back against the rough barn wall. The dog practically crawled up onto the hay bale and laid its head in his lap. Damn thing weighed over eighty pounds and smelled like rancid pond water, but he didn’t stop it.

“Fuck you,” she said, turning away and giving him a lovely view of the backs of her slim, tanned legs. “Come up to the house and get some dry clothes on, you dumbass.” She stood there, wearing that shirt that made his chest hurt, pondering where it had come from, her legs bare and beautiful. It made him want to weep. He set his jaw and turned away from her.

“I missed you and your ladylike ways,” he said, almost absently, as he turned back to study the rain that pounded the window. “Ow!” The towel pop flicked his neck, then his thigh. “Damn girl, you on your period or what?” He rubbed his leg and noted that he was, indeed, soaked through and could use a change of clothes. Too bad he hadn’t thought of that when he ran away from what remained of his former life.

“I can feel your crybaby BS from clear across this barn,” she said.

He turned fast, angry at her words. But her gaze comforted him. And suddenly, he realized why he’d found himself here, on what could be labeled as the worst day of his sorry-ass thirty years.

“How’d marriage work out for ya,” he said, shoving the dog off his lap and getting to his feet.

“How d’you think? I mean, I’m sure it was the talk of the town.” She kept staring at him, not moving. For a split second, Dom found himself headed toward her, needing to feel her skin, taste her lips. But he stood, keeping the four or so feet between them, the dogs milling around their ankles making worried noises. An errant drop of water fell from a lock of hair over his eyes. The moment felt fraught and he cursed himself for causing her pain, again. And again.

“Well, I guess the guy was lucky to escape with his balls intact,” he said, finally. “You’re still as ugly as homemade sin,” he lied. The corner of her lips lifted. He let himself exhale.

It was on now. And he knew she’d let him stay here as long as he needed.

COMING LATE SUMMER 2015!!












About the Author:
Amazon best-selling author, beer blogger and beer marketing expert, mom of three, and soccer fan, Liz Crowe lives Ann Arbor. She has decades of experience in sales and fund raising, plus an eight-year stint as a three-continent, ex-pat trailing spouse.

Her early forays into the publishing world led to a groundbreaking fiction subgenre, “Romance for Real Life,” which has gained thousands of fans and followers interested less in the “HEA” and more in the “WHA” (“What Happens After?”). More recently she is garnering even more fans across genres with her latest novels, which are more character-driven fiction, while remaining very much “real life.”

With stories set in the not-so-common worlds of breweries, on the soccer pitch, in successful real estate offices and at times in exotic locales like Istanbul, Turkey, her books are unique and told with a fresh voice. The Liz Crowe backlist has something for any reader seeking complex storylines with humor and complete casts of characters that will delight, frustrate and linger in the imagination long after the book is finished.

Website:
Blog:www.BrewingPassion.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/lizcroweauthor
Facebook Group: www.facebook.com/groups/lizcrowefans
Twitter: www.twitter.com/beerwencha2
Beer Wench Blog: www.a2beerwench.com
Amazon Author Page: www.amazon.com/Liz-Crowe/e/B00573TC7M


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#BookBlast for Confessions of a Self-Help Writer by @Ben_DeHaven

A Graduate of Columbia College in Chicago, Benjamin DeHaven keeps his heart in Chicago and his soul in New Orleans. He holds a MBA from Tulane and a film degree from Columbia. Once ejected from a community college for arguing Frost cried out for acceptance in Birches, he has since written screenplays, traded futures in Madrid, and was Editor in Chief of the Nola Shopper Newspaper, a free art newspaper and the 2nd largest monthly paper in the New Orleans, MSA. . He also has a "shout out" in a Jay "Z" Song.
DeHaven, who currently resides in Las Vegas began his writing career with Stone United, a Chicago based Film Company, which works primarily in independent film. As an unknown fiction writer, he feels the best description of himself, is a sarcastic one and is as follows:
Benjamin W. DeHaven was born on a pool table after a Waylon Jennings' concert in 1977. His personal success is outweighed only by his stunning good looks and adherence to unwritten moral guidelines. He has been described as a thinking man's Tucker Max as well as an idiot's Hunter S. Thompson. His goal is to die from an unwavering commitment to be more like Hemingway.
He and Michael Enzo were friends.
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Blurb: A ghost, a philanthropist, a con man, a devout Catholic, a gigolo, a savior, an heir, a common man, and an addict are just some of the words used to describe Michael Enzo, who some sources credit with ghost-writing more than 108 self-help books on behalf of celebrities, politicians and business leaders. After failing to make what he considered to be a positive impact on society he began to destroy those closest to him including Benjamin DeHaven, the author of this book, and former collaborator. Defrauding an industry for almost 20 years by exploiting people's insecurities and profiting from them, more than likely these friends contributed more to the field of self-help, while profiting from it, than they will ever know. 

Believing they could only understand people's problems by suffering along with them, they lived on the razor's edge. If you've ever picked up a tell-all biography of a celebrity or a title from the self-help section at the bookstore, certainly you would question the source.This is an inside look at the mind of Michael Enzo and it is the author's hope that people will start helping themselves again after reading it. Discover what turns someone from preaching salvation towards seeking its destruction. You won't believe this could be true.  One randomly chosen winner via rafflecopter will win a $50 Amazon/BN.com gift card.
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#BookBlast: Heart of Christmas by Brenda Novak

New York Times & USA Today Bestselling Author Brenda Novak is the author of more than fifty books. A four-time Rita nominee, she has won many awards, including the National Reader’s Choice, the Bookseller’s Best, the Book Buyer’s Best, the Daphne, and the Holt Medallion. She also runs an annual on-line auction for diabetes research every May at www.brendanovak.com (her youngest son has this disease). To date, she’s raised over $2 million. For more about Brenda, please visit www.brendanovak.com. Or her Facebook page.



Blurb: Just call her Christmas Eve…
Eve Harmon has always enjoyed Christmas, but this year it reminds her of everything she doesn’t have. Almost all her friends are married now, and that’s what Eve wants, too. Love. A husband and kids of her own. But the B-and-B she manages and even Whiskey Creek, the small Gold Country town where she was born and raised, suddenly seem…confining.
As Eve turns thirty-five, she’s worried that her future will simply be a reflection of her past. She’s dated all the eligible men in the area. There’s no one she could even imagine as a husband—until a handsome stranger comes to town. Eve’s definitely attracted to him, and he seems to have the same reaction to her. But his darkly mysterious past could ruin Eve’s happily ever after—just when it finally seems within reach. Just when she’s counting on the best Christmas of her life! 

The 12 Days of Christmas Contest 
Where to Buy:
AmazonBarnes and NobleiTunes

Excerpt: Moving slowly to compensate for her hangover, she managed to prop herself against the headboard and, once there, frowned at her bedmate.
Who the heck was he?
She had no idea, but she was relieved to see that he was no bum off the street. He wasn’t even one of those “he looked a lot more attractive last night” kind of pickups everyone joked about. This guy was so far above average that she began to wonder why he wasn’t already taken. Heaven forbid that was the case! She didn’t see a ring on his left hand, which rested on the pillow above his head. But he had to have some story. If he looked this good sleep-tousled, she could only imagine what he’d be like once he had a chance to clean up.
It was his bone structure, she decided. Those pronounced cheekbones. The narrow bridge across his nicely shaped nose. The distinct ridge of his upper eye sockets. He also had a strong chin and a manly jaw, which certainly didn’t detract.
So maybe she couldn’t point to just one or two features. With his long, sandy-colored hair spread across his pillow, he resembled a fallen angel—and his body further enhanced that image. Although bedding covered his lower half—thank goodness—she could see his torso. He was built like a greyhound or panther, lean and sinewy and ideally proportioned with very little body hair. What body hair he did have was golden and downy, as appealing as his tanned skin.
He’d make a nice subject for a painter, she mused, someone looking for refined masculine beauty—a man who could even be called elegant.
But not everything about him was elegant. When she looked closer, she could see that he had some very unusual scars….
What types of injuries could’ve caused those? she wondered. It seemed to her that he’d been shot, and more than once. Several round, bullet-size marks dotted his chest. Then there was a long, jagged scar on his side that must’ve come from something else….
Out of nowhere—he didn’t open his eyes first, so she had no warning—he grabbed her wrists in a crushing grip and slammed her onto her back.
Eve gasped as she stared up at him. Gone was the image of an angel, fallen or otherwise. Shocked at being so easily and unexpectedly overpowered, she couldn’t even scream. His fierce expression, as if he was intent on causing her bodily harm, made it worse.
Had she brought home a homicidal maniac? Was he about to kill her?
The terror that surged up must’ve shown on her face because he suddenly came to his senses. He gave his head a shake. His expression cleared and, letting go, he eased off her and slid back onto his side of the bed.
“Sorry about that. I thought…” His words trailed off, and he covered his eyes with one arm as if he needed a moment to pull himself together.
Her heart was now pounding in unison with her head. But once she could speak somewhat normally, she prompted him to finish his sentence. “Thought what?”
His lips turned down. “Never mind. I was dreaming.”
She pressed a hand to her chest as though she could slow her galloping pulse. “It couldn’t have been a pleasant dream.”
“They never are,” he muttered.

Brenda will be awarding a $100 Amazon gift card to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.  
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#BookBlast: Project Firebird by Nick Green

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Nick will be awarding a $20 Amazon GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Don’t ask Leo Lloyd-Jones. Ask him how to steal a car, or why he got excluded from every school in Salford, but don’t come to him for help. This whole thing must be a daft mistake – and if anyone finds out, he’s done for.

Earth is on a deadly collision course that nothing can prevent. The only real hope is Project Firebird, deep inside a blast-proof bunker that shelters the brightest and bravest young people. Leo has got mixed up with the likes of Rhys Carnarvon, the celebrated teenage polar explorer, and other child prodigies chosen to keep the flame of civilisation.

Among them is the streetwise Paige Harris, a girl Leo likes a lot (but not in that way). Paige is desperate to rescue her little sister from London before the catastrophe strikes. But no-one is crazy enough to try that. Almost no-one.

Buy the book at Amazon.


Enjoy an excerpt:

‘That which you have there, is a frog.’

Lenka stood in the doorway, smiling. Dressed in a casual blouse and vaguely military trousers, she looked wide awake and not surprised to see them. Leo managed to get his head to stop swimming. Puking on her boots would not be attractive.

‘What is going on here?’ she asked. ‘The midnight feast?’

Rhys wrung the hem of his t-shirt awkwardly. ‘I’m sorry, Doctor Mironov. We couldn’t sleep.’

‘A North American wood frog.’ Lenka nodded at the frozen thing. ‘Rana Sylvatica. A very special animal.’

‘Why –’ Leo coughed. ‘Why have you got dead frogs in your ice box? You’re not French.’

Lenka giggled like a schoolgirl. ‘No, Leo. I’m from St Petersburg.’ She took the lolly in her hand. ‘And this frog, he’s not dead. He’s sleeping.’

‘It’s frozen solid,’ Paige protested.

‘That’s how wood frogs hibernate,’ said Lenka. ‘They’ve evolved to stay alive inside a solid block of ice.’

Rhys made an odd strangled noise. Now he was the one who looked green in the face.

‘We keep these specimens for demonstration purposes,’ said Lenka.

‘Demonstration?’ Rhys spluttered. He seemed unable to take his eyes off the frog. ‘Demonstrating what?’

Lenka tapped her capped teeth with one perfect fingernail.

‘You weren’t supposed to be told this yet. But since you ask, let’s strike while the ironing’s hot. Come. I’ll show you.’

About the Author: Nick Green lives in the UK. He is the author of seven fiction books to date, including the middle-grade CAT KIN trilogy published by Strident. His other books include THE STORM BOTTLE, a fantasy adventure about the dolphins of Bermuda, and most recently the FIREBIRD trilogy, a YA science fiction epic.
www.nickgreenbooks.com
https://www.goodreads.com/nickgreen_catkin


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#Interview with @RobinMahle for Landslide

Robin Mahle lives with her husband and two children in Arizona. She found her passion for writing, which later became her second career, after spending 20 years in the construction industry.
Having always been a lover of books, Robin attributes her creativity to the wonderful overseas adventures she has shared with her husband of 15 years. Traveling throughout Europe and having lived in England, opened her mind and with that came a steady stream of story ideas inspired by her author-idols in the suspense/thriller genre.
Robin published her debut mystery/suspense novel, Redwood Violet in March of 2013. And in September 2013, the much-anticipated sequel, All the Shiny Things (Redwood Violet II), was released. Both have become Amazon Bestsellers! Now, Beyond the Clearing has also joined the list!  Her latest novel, Landslide, was released in July, 2014. This exciting corporate thriller reveals Robin’s unique voice yet again.
Links:Website
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At any given time do you work on only one story at a time and maybe plot out the next one or are there many ideas racing around your head?A:            I generally only have the story I’m working on running through my mind, working out plot issues or things of that nature. That being said, usually around the end of the first draft, I start to think of the next story. The idea is often fairly abstract, but starts to form to a greater extent as I wrap up editing the current book. When I first started writing, I had tons of ideas, but now I rely on mind’s ability to structure thoughts in a manner so that they come to me when I need them. Sounds odd, I know. I can’t really explain how it works, I’m just grateful the ideas keep coming!

2. Is there a genre you haven't written in but would like to? Or wish you could write in?
A:         Absolutely! I am a huge fan of the Lord of the Rings trilogy, Game of Thrones and well, Harry Potter of course. I love those stories. I really wish I had the mindset to create such amazing worlds and throngs of unique and interesting characters. My stories usually consist of a handful of characters that I explore in great detail, but developing monsters and dwarves and other villains really takes something that I just don’t possess. I admire those writers for their work, but that’s not to say that I don’t think other authors in my genre, including myself, don’t work hard to create meaningful and interesting worlds. Ours are just based on reality and not fantasy.

3. Do you add an element of romantic suspense in your stories?
A;         Yes. Most definitely. Although no one would consider the books I write to be in the romance genre, I believe an important element present in all of my stories is romantic suspense, at least to an extent. I suppose this latest book, Landslide, probably explores that idea more so than my others. The main character, Claire McKenna, is faced with desire that threatens to turn deadly. It’s an exciting element I enjoy writing about.

4. Say you have unlimited funds: What kind of writing office/cottage would you create for yourself?
A:         Oh my, what a wonderful question. I can picture it now. A seaside home, my office looking out onto the Pacific Ocean, sitting at my whitewashed antique writing desk. My windows opened and the cool sea breeze floating in along with the sound of the waves lapping against the shore.  Yeah.  Something like that!

5. If you could turn your novel into a TV show, which novel or series would you do? Where would it be set? Network TV (ABC, NBC, CBS), Cable (AMC, BBC, Lifetime) or Premium Cable (HBO, Showtime, Starz)?
A:         Definitely my Redwood Violet series. It’s a great crime drama that would lend itself well to a mini-series. It would have to be on a cable channel, due to the content and I would think HBO would do well. I’ve imagined this happening probably a little too often. Maybe someday.

6. Finally, tell us about your latest release!
A:         Ah yes. Landslide. Well, this is a story about a woman who has worked very hard, plugging away at her job, hoping for recognition. And when that recognition finally comes, it seems to come with a price. One that might just be too high. Her family is her top priority and when it appears that they might be in danger, watch out! Claire McKenna isn’t about to let anyone hurt them. Not only has she taken on the task of clearing her friend’s name, who, by the way, has just been accused of embezzlement at the firm where they both work, she uncovers a conspiracy that could threaten everyone she loves. It’s really very exciting and I hope the readers enjoy it!
Where to Buy: Amazon Barnes &Noble print

 Excerpt: Claire booted up the desktop and logged into her work email. As she waited for the files to download, a flash of lightning appeared through the window, followed by a startling clap of thunder. Sleep would be elusive for her tonight if this storm continued. A light sleeper anyway, Claire would be hard pressed to block out the noise.
The desk drawer below contained her reading glasses that were a necessary evil, although she was only thirty-seven. Most likely the result of spending much of her time staring at computer screens. Sliding them onto her face, she clicked on the email attachments and began reviewing the reports Beth had sent over.
Claire began to see a pattern that had not presented itself prior to this month’s figures as she scrolled through the file. Comparing her hours with that of her junior colleague’s, it wasn’t adding up.
It was her responsibility to review the timesheets and expense reports for Sea-Tech each month before handing them over to Beth, which she had already done a few days ago as per usual. So why were these reports showing additional hours posted against her client? Was it possible she’d missed something in Lucas’ submittal? Anything was possible, but this error would have been a serious one had Beth not brought it to her attention. Sea-Tech wouldn’t have been happy about an additional several thousand dollars in consulting fees.
A final attempt to make sense out of the numbers came when she accessed the main server and retrieved the original account files, comparing her notes and timesheets against Beth’s report.
What the hell?  

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#Excerpt: A Voice in the Dark by @IslaGrey1

Isla Grey grew up in Central Virginia. From the time she won an elementary school writing competition, she has always seemed to have a pen and paper handy and a story sprouting in her head. She likes to write a variety of stories, especially those that bring out the darker side of things.
When she's not being called Mom, Mama, Mommy (you get the picture), by her daughter who constantly keeps her on her toes, she enjoys good music, walking, reading, go-carts and is addicted to "The Walking Dead" and Panera Bread. She's also a pet human to a plethora of cats that have taken up residence at her home.
Isla also loves movies and is the Movie Mistakes Editor for Bellaonline.com, one of the top women's sites on the web. You can also visit her site, www.islagrey.com.
www.islagrey.com
Twitter
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Goodreads
Blurb:

Abigail Farmer knows one thing, the funeral home business...
By day, she works at her family's funeral home. By night, she lives alone on its upper floor. With her stepfather, Sam, about to retire, Abigail is convinced there is only one person who can run the business effectively, her.
However, her life at the funeral home changes when Hasten Holmes arrives.
Ready for his first day on the job Hasten is met by a reluctant Abigail who hopes Sam sends him packing after they exchange unpleasantries.
Reluctant to get too close to anyone, especially someone who's associated with Stu--Sam's lowlife friend and wannabe business partner--Abigail deliberately keeps things strictly professional between them.
Then something unexpected happens...
Abigail's plans to take charge of the family business take a drastic turn when she finds the mutilated body of one of their clients, and it becomes apparent that there's more going on in the funeral home as a sinister plot begins to reveal itself.
Where to Buy:
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Excerpt:
Nothing seemed out of the ordinary when she crossed the tiles of the embalming room. No strange or putrid smells greeted her, nothing was strewn across the floor.   
Abigail reached for a pair of the latex gloves Marty had stored in the supply cabinet. The powder lining clung to her hands, making them sweatier than they already were. She grabbed the edge of the sheet draped over Mr. Watkins and flung it back with one tug. Abigail threw her hand over her mouth to stifle a cry of horror. 
Mr. Watkins’ mouth was still frozen in mid scream, but there were now splotches of dried blood around the empty sockets that once held his death glare. Her repulsed gaze wandered to the jagged incision that ran the length of his gaping chest. She stepped closer for a better look, her knees buckling when she looked down into an empty cavity. 
Abigail ripped the gloves off, threw them at the waste basket in the corner, and ran for the safety of her own room. She pressed against the back of the door and locked it for good measure. She couldn’t take any chances. Something awful was happening, and there was only one person who might have a clue – Hasten Holmes.    



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#BookBlast: Key to Love by @JudyAnnDavis4

Judy Ann Davis began her career in writing as a copy and continuity writer for radio and television in Scranton, PA. Throughout her career, she has written for both industry and education.

Over a dozen of her short stories have appeared in anthologies, and literary and small magazines, and have received numerous awards. Nineteen of them are now collected in UP ON THE ROOF AND OTHER STORIES.
Her first novel, RED FOX WOMAN, published in 2010, is a western, mystery, and romance and was a finalist in the International Book Awards and USA Book News Best Book Awards. Its stand-alone sequel, UNDER STARRY SKIES, was released earlier this year.
When Judy Ann is not behind her computer, you can find her looking for anything humorous to make her laugh or swinging a golf club where the chuckles are few. She is a member of Pennwriters, Inc. and Romance Writers of America. She lives in Central Pennsylvania.
Visit her on the web at these locations:
Website BlogFacebook TwitterGoodreads 
Blurb: When architect Elise Springer’s father is injured, she immediately leaves San Francisco to care for him. The last person she expects to encounter in her Pennsylvania hometown is her childhood friend Lucas Fisher. Lucas is investigating his brother’s death, and Elise can’t resist lending a hand.
     Lucas longs for the close family ties he never had. He’s back in Scranton to set up a classic car restoration business and build a future. The torch he carries for Elise burns brighter than ever, but before he can declare his love, he must obtain the legal rights to adopt his nephew—and prove his brother’s death was no accident.     As they unearth clues pointing to find a murderer and a missing stash of money, Elise faces a dilemma. Is her career on the West Coast the key to her happiness, or is it an animal-cracker-eating four-year-old and his handsome uncle instead?
Where to Buy:


Barnes andNoble Link
Amazon Link 

Excerpt: 


Lucas Fisher stood inside Whitman’s Paper and Paint Store, surrounded by the pungent scents of vinyl wallpaper, turpentine, and paint, and wondered how he had allowed himself to be tricked into abandoning his work at the garage.  However, nothing had prepared him for Whitman’s Paint and Paper. It was like stepping onto another planet.
“What are we looking for again?” He watched her leaf through the pages of a pattern book with a speed that defied logic. “Blue dogs?”
“Ah, French blue, something like this.” She paused only long enough to point to a flower so small the average person would need a magnifying glass. She flipped the page before he had a chance to commit it to memory.
Lucas rubbed his bleary eyes with the palms of his hands. Every pattern had begun to look like the next, melting into a haze of swirling tones. God, he needed an aspirin and a beer. “You’re absolutely sure this wallpaper exists?” He squinted at her with a skeptical look, and she nodded, her fingers nimbly turning the pages of yet another book.
“Uh-huh”
“Oh, terrific. There are at least five hundred books here, and we’ve been through what? Two dozen? I imagine you have someone lined up to hang the dang rolls?”
“Uh-huh, you and Fritz. But only if you’d stop talking and help me find it.”
“Me and your brother?” His voice came out in a hysterical wail. “Get serious, Liz, I’ve never wallpapered a room in my life.” Hell, he couldn’t wrap a Christmas present unless it was packaged in a box with four crisp corners and there were yards of paper to waste.
“Neither has Fritz, but he’s watched my mother do it many times. It’s a piece of cake.” Her hands continued flashing through the pages.
“Piece of cake? Are you sane? Unless Fritz has flashbacks, we’re doomed.” Lucas slumped down wearily onto a nearby chair and cupped his face in his hands.
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Interview with Supergirls author @MavSkye

When Mav Skye isn't turning innocent characters into axe murderers, refinishing old furniture, chasing around her spring ducklings, or reading the latest horror novel, she's editing at the almighty Pulp Metal Magazine.
She adores puppies, pirates, skulls, red hots, Tarantino movies and yes, Godzilla.
Especially Godzilla.
She is the author of Supergirls and The Undistilled Sky. Look for her wicked horror romance, Wanted:Single Rose, this fall and the second book in the Supergirls series, Night without Stars, early 2015.
Find Me: Website Twitter Facebook Page Goodreads 
1. At any given time do you work on only one story at a time and maybe plot out the next one or are there many ideas racing around your head? If I’m writing/editing a short story, I’ll do several at a time. When I’m writing a novel, I’ll break occasionally and write a short story or poetry to give my brain a rest. When I’m editing a novel, I do my best to rip through it as fast I as can, because I get easily distracted.
Like right now, I’m trying to get through the third edit of my horror/romance novel Wanted Single Rose. I braked to write on other stuff, and now I’m having a hard time getting back into it. So frustrating—Argh!

2. Is there a genre you haven't written in but would like to? Or wish you could write in? I try to write romance. I honestly do. The problem is, people just start dying right and left and before I know it, the book is horror.  Erotica on the other hand, I like to write that. There are quite a few metaphors between death and sex; perhaps that is why it comes easier.
3. Do you add an element of romantic suspense in your stories? That depends on what the story calls for. If the tale in question contains a romantic element, there will definitely be romantic suspense. But in Supergirls, there is no romance. There is definitely suspense, and love, and erotic, but no romance. Go figure.
4. Say you have unlimited funds: What kind of writing office/cottage would you create for yourself? Hmm…I’ve always imagined writing in a little beach house on the Pacific Ocean.
5. If you could turn your novel into a TV show, which novel or series would you do? Where would it be set? Network TV (ABC, NBC, CBS), Cable (AMC, BBC, Lifetime) or Premium Cable (HBO, Showtime, Starz)? Eeek! Well, the Supergirls series would definitely be intriguing. After I wrote the first book, I thought, if it ever became something, I would love Tarantino to direct it. But sticking to your question, I think Netflix would do it right.
That being said, there’s a story I wrote a long time ago called WildCard about a librarian, Margo, who deals drugs on the side to pay for her grandmother’s nursing home bills. However, her conscience is greatly affected by the horrendous crimes she becomes involved in. This leads to serious insomnia, so her doctor prescribes Ambien, (which can cause all sorts of weird sleep walking episodes. Trust me, I know.) Margo starts fighting crime and saving lives in her sleep to balance the wrongs she commits during the day. She doesn’t remember any of it. She thinks she’s finally sleeping through the night. But when people start recognizing Margo as a real life superhero, her life suddenly becomes very complicated.
When I wrote this story, I was totally thinking of prime time TV, probably AMC. Which is funny, because Breaking Bad, which is sorta similar, came out shortly after I wrote this story.

6. Finally, tell us about your latest release!Supergirls is what happens when two sisters born into dismal and dire circumstances grow up believing what they see on TV. They’ve had no parental guidance. No adults to trust. There was nothing but television to define their reality, nothing but superhero comics to set their expectations. They watched Superman and believed it, they watched Leave it to Beaver, I love Lucy, Goonies and believed it. They read Treasure Island and Supergirl Comics and Stephen King’s It, and believed it. As teens, they watched Pretty Woman, Kill Bill, Austin Powers and believed it.
Now, the only thing that stands between their current miserable existence and their Little House on the Prairie dreams is one “Fat Bastard” named Frederick Bells. Dispensing justice upon him, and stealing his money, should be a piece of cake…except younger sister, May, is a schizophrenic, Bells is a serial killer, and this isn’t a Disney movie. 
Supergirls is the about the great gulf between what is and what should be.
Blurb: Sisters Jenn and May have finally found their golden ticket out of the slums. Pervy sugar daddy, Frederick Bells, promises to be an easy score with a big payoff—millions are hidden within his mansion.
The plan is simple: tie up the pig, steal his cash, and skip town. But fate has a different plan, including a villain with a wicked imagination. The sisters resort to playing their childhood game SUPERGIRLS to battle their fears in Bell’s den of horrors.
Will the SUPERGIRLS find their prize or will their heads join the pile behind the black cellar door?  Excerpt: Old folks say the world is simply made of black and white. There is no gray. How is that true? How does that sum up reality? Right now, this second, I could toss the dagger, grab May’s hand and escape through the white door, white like heaven, and what then? We’d have zip. Nada. We can’t return to the studio. Fat Bastard and Leroy know where we live. All we’d have is our miserable, crappy (and psychotic) lives.
And each other, something whispers or does it whistle? I don’t know anymore. Through the white door—it’s running away. Running away from the one thing May and I have always wanted: peace.
No, the only way to peace is through darkness, the black door, through the cellar to the money.
I turn and face the black door, place my hand on the bolt. There is a monster in the dark to confront.
Perhaps I’ll die, perhaps May will. This is where the gray area lies, the future. Why can’t there be a clear-cut way of what to do and when?
The moaning creature pounds the door.
Fat Bastard. I grit my teeth and draw my eyes away from the tree with gems. Black, white or grey: if you want something you have to go for it, the consequences be damned.
The monster pounds the door harder.
May startles and turns to me.
I motion to her and breathe, “When I unbolt the door, I’ll drop to the floor and you shoot.”
She says nothing, but stands back and aims the pistol.
I say, “One, two, three…”
Supergirls is available in print or ebook at: Payhip (50% discount at Payhip if you "share" the book) & Amazon US Amazon UK
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#Interview with @jesselebeau for Among The Giants

Over the course of the last couple years, Jesse has propelled himself from a small, alaskan fishing town to the Hollywood big screen, being seen by millions all over the world. By leveraging his love of the game of basketball and making the most of every opportunity, he has suc- cessful created a life all his own. at 5’8”, he may not be an nBa player, but by tweaking his dream, he has been able to use his passion (basketball) to star in national commercials and movies, work with pro athletes and celebrities, and even give back on a regular basis as a motivational speaker for youth. His un- derdog story, outlined in his book, Among the Giants, serves as an inspiration to anyone who has ever been told they can’t make their dream a reality.
Jesse was born and raised on Pennock island, alaska, where his mother worked as a school teacher and his father was involved in the logging industry. Jesse played basketball growing up, but no one wanted to take him seriously, and coaches told him he was too small and would never make it. despite his critics, he believed not only in himself but also in the plan God had for him. Jesse has experienced big wins and frustrating losses, but both triumph and defeat helped him grow as a leader and a person, and helped deepen his faith.
Today, he uses his message to motivate and inspire young people around the world as a speaker and author. combining his love of basketball, speaking, and entertaining, Jesse founded the fab4 Takeover, which brings celebrities into schools to teach and impact students. He also released an instructional dribbling dVd titled Dribble Like a Star. for a free download from the dVd visit www.JesseleBeau.com or text the word ‘dVd ‘to the number 58885. you can find more information, read news in the press, watch highlight video foot- age, and follow Jesse on a more personal level at the following websites:
WebsiteWebsiteTwitterFacebookInstagram


At any given time do you work on only one story at a time and maybe plot out the next one or are there many ideas racing around your head?
I focus on one area at a time.  I’m easily distracted, so when a new idea pops into my head I’ll write it down and come back to it later.  The less I try to multi-task the more productive I can be.




Is there a genre you haven't written in but would like to? Or wish you could write in?
No, my focus is on creating material that inspires, educates, and equips people with the tools to be great.




Do you add an element of romantic suspense in your stories?
If the story calls for it I will.


Say you have unlimited funds: What kind of writing office/cottage would you create for yourself?
I want to be by a pool someplace tropical with an ice cold beverage in hand.  If I can work with some board shorts on I consider it a win.




If you could turn your novel into a TV show, which novel or series would you do? Where would it be set? Network TV (ABC, NBC, CBS), Cable (AMC, BBC, Lifetime) or Premium Cable (HBO, Showtime, Starz)?
I’m currently developing a show aimed at MTV because that is the audience I wish to reach and needs to hear my message the most.




Finally, tell us about your latest release!
I am so excited that my new book Among The Giants: How One Underdog Pursued His Dreams, & You Can Too! will be in bookstores October 7th.   This is my first book that I wrote to inspire people to live their dreams and be great.  I share my underdog story and all the life lessons I learned along the way in an entertaining easy to read fashion.  The book has over 60 QR codes of awesome content that I’m excited to share as well!  For a free download from the book visit www.JesseLeBeau.com/book


Amazon
To get a free download from his DVD
To get a free

download from his eBook "What Allen Iverson Taught Me About Life"




Excerpt:
The majority of you don’t know my name, although you’ve probably seen my face on television. at the age of twenty-four, i began starring in national commercials for Kobe Bryant and other nBa players. i’ve been featured by sports magazines and played in basketball games that were televised to a global audience. i’ve done interviews for radio, television, and websites. i’ve met and spent time with famous, wealthy, and influential people from all over the world, and i have relationships some of the most re- spected and intelligent business men and women in the country.


do i think i’m special because of this? no. i know my efforts have been blessed. i also know that if there is anything special about me, it isn’t necessarily my talent. it would more likely be my dogged tenacity to pursue a dream and my drive to put every ounce of my energy into making that dream happen. i was an underdog my whole life, but i refused to become a victim or a “less- than” in any endeavor i attempted. i always believed in myself, even when the odds were stacked against me. and they usually were.


even with the success i’ve had so far, i still feel like i have room to grow before reaching my fullest potential. But i believe i am on the right track. The fact that all of this happened for me in such a short time is a true testament to the principles i have learned and applied to my life. i want to share my story and these “life lessons” with you . . . and i want this book to inspire you to find your passion and chase your dreams, so you can wake up every day and do whatever it is you love.Jesse will be awarding a signed Deuce Brand watch to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.
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#BookBlast: A Matter of Grave Concern by @Brenda_Novak

New York Times and USA Today Bestselling Author Brenda Novak is the author of more than fifty books. A four-time Rita nominee, she has won many awards, including the National Reader’s Choice, the Bookseller’s Best, the Book Buyer’s Best, the Daphne, and the Holt Medallion. She also runs an annual on-line auction for diabetes research every May at www.brendanovak.com (her youngest son has this disease). To date, she’s raised over $2 million. For more about Brenda, please visit www.brendanovak.com.
Follow me on Twitter Like me on Facebook
Blurb:

When Maximillian Wilder joins the notorious body snatchers known as the London Supply Company, the last thing on his mind is love. He’s worried about Madeline, his vanished half sister, who was last seen in the company of Jack Hurtsill, the gang’s conscienceless leader. Raiding graveyards, stealing corpses, and selling them to medical colleges as dissection material is dirty work, but he has to gain Jack’s trust. He’s determined to find out what happened to Madeline—and to bring Jack to justice if she was murdered for the coin her body could bring.
Beautiful, spirited Abigail Hale, daughter of the surgeon at Aldersgate School of Medicine, detests the challenging, hard-bargaining Max. But she must procure the necessary specimens if she is to save the college and her father’s career. She believes she is going to be successful—until Jack double-crosses her. Then she’s swept into a plot of danger and intrigue, one where Max must intervene and protect her, no matter the risk to his plan . . . or his heart.



Excerpt:

“Ouch! That hurts! What are you doing?” she asked, trying to wiggle away from the roughness of his chin as he chafed it against her face and neck.
Max could feel the ridge of Miss Hale’s collarbone beneath his cheek, then more smooth skin as he slid his chin up the column of her throat. “I am leaving a few marks on you, for Jack’s edification,” he said. “He will never believe you were ravished without something to show for it.” Pausing just below her left earlobe, he began to suck on her neck.
She squirmed some more, resisting, but that soon subsided and she started to giggle. He guessed from her bossiness that she didn’t laugh often but, strangely enough considering all the trouble she had caused him, he liked the sound of it.
“Nothing in my father’s books said anything about this,” she said. “What on earth are you doing? Stop! It tickles. What could possibly be the point?”
He lifted his head only when he was satisfied that he had left a deep purple mark. “What your father’s books didn’t tell you, Miss Hale, is that much of what goes on between a man and a woman, at least in the bedroom, has no point. It is simply for the sake of pleasure, for the pure, heady passion of reveling in the opposite sex, of letting go of all inhibition long enough to enjoy giving everything and receiving everything all at the same time.”
He knew his voice sounded slightly hoarse, but she smelled so damn clean and fresh. And her skin—it had to be the softest he had ever touched.
Moonlight lit her face as she cocked a finely arched eyebrow at him. “You seem quite well-versed on the subject.”
“I have never read any bloody medical journals, that’s for damn sure. After hearing what they have to say, I think I’m glad.”
“What’s wrong with what they say?”
Max ignored her in favor of nipping at her neck again. Why did she have to feel so good? Not five minutes earlier, he had told himself he wouldn’t have any difficulty sharing a room, even a bed, with Miss Hale. He could control his “drive to mate” as she put it.
But that was before, when Miss Hale—Abigail—was at an arm’s distance. Now that she was so close and not nearly as stiff as he had expected, he found his perspective changing. And he was only rubbing his chin on her cheeks and neck. What would it feel like to part her lips and slip his tongue inside her mouth for that first sweet taste?
Under the guise of more chafing, he let their lips brush once, felt their breath mingle, and measured Miss Hale’s response. The tension in her shoulders, where he had anchored his hands, relaxed ever so slightly. Her eyelids lowered as her gaze fell to his mouth, and she kept her head tilted at just the right angle for their lips to brush again.
She’s curious, he realized. She has never been kissed.

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