Liz Crowe's Blog, page 21

Mutual Release: Not What You Might Think

Greetings Liz fans and anyone else out there hanging around my blog.

My latest book MUTUAL RELEASE, a stand alone novel as part of the top selling Stewart Realty series has really burst out of the gate nicely, relatively speaking, for me.

It is not a book for everyone. It deals with tough topics, hard realities, and fit no mold or formula of genre fiction.  

On purpose, mind you.  

A few early reviewers have named it among the BEST they've read, which is cool.

Naturally, since it's post-release weeks I am on tour, virtually speaking and talk about all manner of things relative to the book, my process whether I sleep in the nude or prefer flip flops to high heels for next couple of weeks. Reviews will also be posted by some of these folks. Here is the schedule:


4/16/2013 We Love Kink4/17/2013 Jessy's Book Club4/18/2013 She Book Blogs (review)4/19/2013 Desiree Holt Tells All4/19/2013 SECOND STOP In a Dream Beyond4/22/2013 All I Want and More4/23/2013 Words of Wisdom from The Scarf Princess4/24/2013 i love lady porn4/25/2013 Books to Light Your Fire4/26/2013 Author Jinni James4/26/2013 SECOND STOP Erotica For All4/29/2013 One World Singles Magazine Blog4/30/2013 The Book Enthusiast5/1/2013 Erzabet's Enchantments5/2/2013 Romance Addict Book Blog5/3/2013 Harlie's Books 5/3/2013 SECOND STOP Bitchesbewritin

Check out the trailer:

Thanks and happy touring with Liz!(OH, my publisher and I are giving away a Kindle Paperwhite, a full signed set of the Stewart Realty series, a boxed set of the first three books and a Zazzle Stewart Realty swag pack!)cheersL

Book Blast with Paloma Beck's Hold My Hand

Title: Hold My HandAuthor: Paloma BeckGenre: Erotic Contemporary RomanceElements: BDSM-lite, Consensual Adult SpankingRelease Date: April 1, 2013Website: http://palomabeck.weebly.com/hold-my-hand.htmlPinterest: http://pinterest.com/palomabeck/hold-my-hand/Facebook:  https://www.facebook.com/HoldMyHandBookGoodreads: http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17408218-hold-my-hand
BlurbAubrey has been hurt in the past, discouraged and degraded by a heartless father. Still, William sees something in her that won't allow him to walk away. Instantly drawn to her but intuitive enough to take it slowly, he courts her. Then he bargains, persuades and seduces until he ensnares Aubrey with his commanding nature. He’s everything she ever needed but never had the courage to want for. Despite the fight she puts up in accepting William's lifestyle, the bonds he places on Aubrey give her a freedom she desperately needs. Together, they heal old wounds and find their perfect love.
BUY LINKSSmashwords:  https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/298418Amazon: http://is.gd/AoHfwb


Excerpt© Hold My Hand, Paloma Beck, 2013“This is a spanking paddle. Isn’t it beautiful?” He held it in front of my face for me to see. The gleam in his eye put me on alert.The black leather screamed pain, not beauty but I decided to bite my tongue and instead I responded with a simple, “Yes sir” as I tried to look away from this awful piece of leather and wood. I had a sudden and unprovoked feeling of hatred towards the instrument.William rubbed the leather along my jaw, tracing from ear to ear. He placed it to my nose. “Smell it. It’s like ambrosia, don’t you think so?”It was as if he were deliberately taunting me. I breathed in the rich scent of leather but it wasn’t ambrosia to me. All too soon, this paddle would warm my bottom. I didn’t know whether I just wanted him to get on with it or if I was grateful for this time to prepare myself. Again, I considered the possibility William was successfully torturing me.“No sir,” I answered him after a quick flick of his hand on my hip.“I suppose you can’t appreciate its beauty right now.” William brought it to his face and I listened as he inhaled the fragrant leather before he placed the paddle against my lips. “Kiss it and accept your punishment.”I followed his command and caressed the leather softly with my lips.“Tell me why you’re being punished.”“To – To remind me not to run when I get scared.” I answered his question, already berating my foolishness. Why hadn’t I been strong enough to trust in him? In us?“Right. This punishment will be harsher than you’ve experienced before because your offense was worse. You ran from me, from us. You cannot run. I want you to think of this paddle on your flesh the next time you consider running.” He rubbed my cheeks, drawing circles as he continued talking to me. “But also know that when this punishment is done, all is forgiven. We move on and focus on our future.”At his final word, the first strike came down on my bottom with stinging accuracy, the paddle spreading the sting across both cheeks. The force of it caused me to clench my muscles, which squeezed the plug and caused me to cry out.Another sharp sting came down on my bottom. Fire streaked across my skin even as I heard William’s voice over my own whimpers. “Do not move. Find your center and gain control. You can do this.” William soothed the sting by rubbing my bottom he struck just seconds before.TODAY’s QUESTIONDo you enjoy the scent of leather? What about the touch of it?
About PalomaPaloma Beck is a Romance Author living a life of contradiction... she's a happily married carpooling mom writing erotic romance. It's almost naughty! Paloma writes in both the Contemporary and Paranormal realms, journaling the stories her characters tell her, and they are anything but PG. She dabbles in vampires, witches, ménage, spanking and bdsm - all in her books, of course.
Paloma believes a daily dose of espresso and a good book make any day better.
Connect with PalomaWEBSITE http://palomabeck.weebly.comTUMBLR http://palomabeck.tumblr.com/BLOG http://RomanceBeckons.blogspot.comTWITTER https://twitter.com/PalomaBeckFACEBOOKhttp://www.facebook.com/PalomaBeckAuthorPINTERESThttp://www.pinterest.com/PalomaBeckGOODREADShttp://www.goodreads.com/PalomaBeck
CONTESTPaloma is offering a DAILY CONTEST during her release tour to WIN a Hold My Hand ebook. Enter to win each day by answering the QUESTION in the COMMENTS section of that day’s post. The question must be answered to be eligible. The commenter needs to provide their email address and preferred ebook format.
RELEASE TOUR STOPSApril 2, Celeste Jones  |  April 3, Natasha Knight  |  April 4, Renee Rose Romance  |  April 5, Eclectic Writer  |  April 6, Guilty Indulgence  |  April 7, Happily Ever After  |  April 8, Wicked Romance  |  April 9, Patricia Green  |  April 10, Excerpts with Emilia  |  April 11, Cassandra Dayne  |  April 12, Cara Bristol  |  April 13, Governing Ana  |  April 14, Keta's Keep  |  April 15, Brewing PassionFind a listing of all stops at Romance Beckons . http://romancebeckons.blogspot.com/p/blog-hops.html#.UVXrnByG2So

Achieving Inner Peace. While Beating The Sh*t Out Of Boxing Bag. Part One

In the interest of full disclosure, allow me to say that I am not naturally inclined to exercise.


I'm perfectly content to sit, drink, read, write...lather, rinse, repeat.


 I never played a sport, I am definitely NOT a runner (just ask my peeps at the MOa2 Hash House Harriers) although I am a GREAT supporter...you know...of athletics.



However, in the last 3 years I have taken my personal distaste for activity much beyond walking my standard poodles or other, more pleasurable sorts of ways to burn calories that end with a nice nap a bit too far. Even I will admit it.  I've never been one to obsess about my weight but up until about 2010 I had disciplined myself into a program that more or less allowed me to eat and drink whatever I wanted and still stay (more or less) the jeans size I was used to. Then, I got reeeeeaaaaallllly good at excuses--you know the kind: gotta blog, gotta write, gotta go on sales calls, gotta manage websites and social networking, gotta manage expansion, gotta manage the Tap Room. Busy. Busy. Busy. No time for all that...exercise...nonsense. Yes I will have another beer, thanks!

(not me, by the way but one of the few postures I like.)
I still go to Bikram yoga off and on but have not been as committed to it as I once was. But then, I got contacted by a gal down the street from the brewery with Title Boxing Club. Boxing. Yeah. I don't watch it, and never made it through the first half of Million Dollar Baby (I know how it ends, of course.  It's a dangerous sport, boxing).



I looked them up. They are a national entity, that has moved its entire operations to Our Fair City, Ann Arbor. Cool. The gal down there was interested in a cross promotion. I thought...hmmm..beer and boxing gloves? Sounds like a recipe for a police raid of my bar to me. No thanks.


 But then, I read a little more about them.  And I started thinking. Well, actually I got a good long look at the Wenchie physique (read: lack thereof) and wondered if a change up of some sort, some new goal, was what I needed to recharge.

So I gave it a shot. (Just so you know some of these are blurry 'cause I am just that lightening fast and I knew she was taking pictures so I moved extra speedy between gasping for breath and wishing for death).


And I am saying right here, right now, in front of God and the Internet and all y'all: I am gonna see this through. My plan is to alternate this way "fun" workout (as "fun" as any workout can be but the lovely and adorable Adam did keep it lively I will say) with my Bikram practice, hoping for a bit of strength, flexibility, ability-to-sweat-buckets-and-still-live balance.

As I sit here I can already feel my shoulders, upper back and, oddly, calf muscles slowly starting to seize up and set up a cry for "Sit! Drink! Don't Hurt Us Anymore!" but I shall ignore them, drink more water, take a few ibuprofen, and allow my inner Fit Wench to Emerge.

Soon, they will be offering a fun "box and brew" special down at Title, which is next to that goldfish pool swim thing in the ACE Hardware shopping center. They will pick a couple of classes on Friday and Saturday that, if you attend, you get a certificate for a killer discount in my brewery. The featured Box and Brew class will be announced on their Facebook page (but the promo does not start until May). Also, and perhaps even cooler, I am going to be putting together a WENCH POSSE, which sounds like a title for a new book but is really a group of people who will get to workout with ME at Title, for free once and then decide if they want to keep pounding and kicking  the living sh*t out of a boxing bag while music blares and some guy yells at them--I mean, "Get In Shape At Title Boxing Club."

Seriously, I thought it was pretty cool. For exercise. And you can stare at that bag and picture whomever you want! That, ladies and gents, was worth the effort.

I'll take pix as I go through this little experiment of Bikram Boxing (hmmm......that sounds like a killer crossover gym to me).  Follow along! Let's get fit! Or at the very least let's workout enough so we can drink all the beer we want and not have to buy bigger jeans!

Wish me luck and join me if ya want! Details of the Wench Posse to emerge.



A hovering on the verge of being REALLY sore

Liz
p.s. I'll be at the Bikram studio tomorrow first thing, trying not to cry. It's about the only goal I have in there. Namaste THIS! More on the Bikram mindset (the one where you don't cry within 30 minutes of being in that room) later.

Book Blasting!

I'm on a sh*t ton of blogs today promoting RELEASE DAY for my latest stand alone novel:
here are the stops.....

1.Erzabet's Enchantments
2. Krystal Shannan - Where Love and Destiny Collide
3. Romance Addict Book Blog
4. Books to Light Your Fire
5. Musings of Mistress of the Dark Path
6. Books and Other Spells
7. Wake Up Your Wild Side
8. Jamie Salisbury
9. Twinsie Talk book Review
10. Full Moon Dreaming
11. Tory Richards
12. Harlie's Books
13. Reviews By Molly
14. All I Want and More
15. Desiree Holt Tells All
16. Regina May Ross's Blog 
17. The Eclectic Review
18. We Love Kink
19. Of Kink, Romance, and Writing
20. Sexy Lady Anita Philmar
21. Dawn's Reading Nook Blog
22. Crazy Four Books
23. United By Books
24. Author Raine Delight's Blog
25. Beyond Romance
26. Sugarbeat's Books
27. The SkylarVerse
28. Francesca's Mindstream
29. Wicked Wolves & Dreaming Dragons
30. Jennifer Lynne: Romance Author
31. Nightstand Novels

Here are the PRIZES!
Grand Prize:Kindle paper White
1st Prize: Signed set of first 6 books (Includes all books in the series *except for* Mutual Release)
2nd Prize: boxed set of first 3 Stewart Realty ebooks (Floor Time, Sweat Equity, Closing Costs)3rd Prize: Zazzle store Stewart swag pack (including canvas tote bag, mug, t-shirt, keychain)

I am NOT using Rafflecopter. Comment and be eligible to WIN!
And Happy Reading!
Liz  

P.S. I'm "on tour" starting next week and will have some KILLER posts

On the Almost Eve Of (Mutual) Release

I have a few things on my mind:


Soccer, thanks to my current obsession with my new, Stewart Realty offshoot series THE BLACK JACK GENTLEMEN. This will begin with a trilogy of stories that will release in August/September 2013.  I just turned in the 3rd book RED CARD, to my editor to begin the gamut.  This book is the first one that I literally started thinking it was one thing, only to have it swerve off the rails in a completely different direction. I mean, you know how it is, fellow author...you have the thing mapped out in your head (if you're me) or on paper somewhere (if you're not). You have a solid idea of beginning, middle and end. And then...well, let's just say the "Femme Domme meets hot soccer boy sub-spanky-spanky-waxy-clampy-HEA" I had envisioned is not where this thing ended up.  But I really like it.









The 2nd book, FREE AGENT, is the tale of the coach of the Black Jacks and is a story of a young man who enjoyed early success with his international career, falls in love with a female soccer player, changes her life which does not sit well with her independent minded sister. Then, as fate intervenes he is forced to reevaluate his priorities about all he loved.















The inaugural book is MAN ON, a first season story of two players who are headed in very different directions. One is coming down off a successful career and is forced into the ignominy of playing in the U.S.--on an expansion team--in an expansion league--in Detroit after a long and tempestuous career in Spain. The other is just beginning his career after a college NCAA men's championship season and a last minute life-changing decision not to go to medical school and take the Black Jacks up on their offer (after turning down an English Premiereship offer in order to please his doctor father and eager fiancee).  It's a man love story, set in pro sports, and sets up what I think will be a really fun, hot, emotional, funny and poignant series of books about a sport I love.


I'm also thinking round ball in a big way--the basketball kind. I had a few things to say about this on my beer wench blog today, complete with photos of both teams I support, if one slightly more than the other! GO CARDS!!!!!

I am also thinking about Jack Gordon, the main hero of the entire Stewart Realty series, and the FREE BOOK I'm currently editing for my fans....
here's a little taste of it, early college days, with a woman you might recognize but didn't realize how close she came to being The One.



Jack got to his feet, his knees wobbly, his head starting to pound from emotion and last night’s excesses. He saw a slight female form emerge from his room, her bright auburn hair like a beacon in the early morning gloom.  He groaned. Shit, had they? He honestly could barely remember past the mini orgy he’d hosted early in the night.The girl turned, as if reading his mind, blew him a kiss that even he knew was ironic, and started toward the door. “Wait,” he called out, needing nothing more than a solid reality session from his friend, the lovely, smart-assed, beautiful redheaded Suzanne. He held up a hand, she stopped, but pointed to her watch. “Mo, I’ll be there by dinner. Gotta go sort out some stuff first. Loveyoubye.” He ran the words together and hung up.“Gordon I’ve got study group. What do you want?”He stayed put, hands on the wall, steadying himself. He had met Suzanne practically the first day of class, in freshmen English, not his best subject but he was too busy scoping out his targets to care. He spotted her, and instead of his usual automatic thought about what her face would look like when he made her come, he smiled at her pixie-like good looks, at the natural, easy-going way she observed him, observing her. He’d made a bee-line for her after class but she avoided him for a week or so, brushing off his invites to fraternity parties, for coffee, to even walk alongside him as if she knew he’d be bad news. He jumped when she touched his shoulder, closed his eyes at her scent. He was falling for the girl, and he knew it. So he turned the dial to “inner asshole,” hoping she got the message. He was not about to get attached to anyone, ever, at least not for a damn long time. Considering how easy it was to channel his father when he wanted to he figured it was for her own good. “So…” he turned, looking down at her petite self. “Was I good?” His pulse raced. He sincerely hoped he had not gotten so drunk he would not remember having sex with the girl who he considered his very good friend. He couldn’t remember when she’d shown up.She laughed, punched him hard in the stomach, catching him off guard. “You wish, lover boy.” She leaned back, crossing her arms and giving him a strange look. “You were in rare form across the hall for a while, with Freitag, but that’s nothing new. I just sat with Jeff and Mike, smoked a few and fell asleep on your couch. I think he likes me,” her dark eyes brightened. Jack bit the inside of his cheek to resist telling her that Mike was gay. He held out an arm, she settled herself comfortably against his chest. His heart calmed and for the millionth time since she had finally agreed to hang out with him – never “go out” mind you, they had never dated –-he had to use every tool in his personal arsenal not to toss her over his shoulder and take her to bed. Something in him wanted it so bad he ached, and he'd channeled the feeling into fucking a different girl every week, sometimes more than one.  He couldn’t go there with Suzanne. He wasn’t ready. He was a shithead and she deserved better.“What’s wrong?” she said, quietly. He led her back to his room. Rob emerged from the shower, damp, a towel around his waist. He shot the two of them a look. Jack flipped him off, then slammed his room door in the guy’s face. “It’s my grandma. She’s probably dying. And apparently I’m getting a stepmother. I don’t know. Shit.” He sat, and to his surprise, Suzanne slid immediately into his lap and wrapped her arms around his neck. His body reacted in a healthy way, but his heart hurt so badly he didn’t push her away this time. She felt so right to him. He had told her about his dad, his mother’s death, his drive to be better, to prove that he was everything John Gordon would never be. She’d chided him before, but now, she just held onto him. “Um, yeah,” she shifted on his lap when his erection made itself well known beneath her. “I should go. You need to pack.” He tightened his grip and she didn’t resist all that much. Her lips when he found them, were familiar. They’d been here before, on a winter break trip when they’d gotten drunk and high and fucked each other like rabbits for a whole weekend before parting ways, embarrassed. It had taken Jack weeks to work up the courage to call her after that and she’d avoided him too. Finally he’d seen her at a party, pulled her aside and they’d agreed that it had been a one-off, fun and all, but their friendship was more important. He knew it then—he did love her. And should avoid her like the plague.But now… she sighed as he parted her lips with his tongue, gently, with no urgency, no rush, just a sweet moment, a perfect fit. He groaned as she shifted, straddled him, lifting her skirt just enough so he could feel her heat against his. The kiss got serious, then he broke from her, ran his lips down her neck, cupped one of her pert breasts, the familiarity of it a relief, and more of a turn on than any challenge he could remember. “Jack,” she whispered, her breath getting ragged. “We… I’m… oh…” she sighed as he lifted her shirt, pulled her up so he could tug one of her peaked nipples into his mouth. She tasted like tart, red headed perfection. His brain was flooded with a need so strong he couldn’t get his hands around it, couldn’t control it. That scared him, but he couldn’t, wouldn’t stop. Her hands were fisted in his hair, her petite body wrapped around him.  But he stopped, took her face in his hands and stared at her. “I can’t do this Suzanne. It will… mean too much. Not after… you know,” She bit her lip, and without a word, reached to his drawer and pulled out a condom. “No.” He said, but watched as she opened it, slid the thin latex over his exposed shaft, then stood and shed her shirt and skirt before turning the lock on his door. It was like a dream, a bizarre half-sleeping moment as she pushed him down onto his back, leaned down to lick her way up his bare torso. He pulled her up to meet his eyes. “You’re sure?”  Suzanne nodded, but he held her still. He saw the tears in her eyes. He would not make this girl cry, not for anything, not even if it meant cutting her off as a friend. They would never work. He was a shit. She was perfect. Her lips covered his and his resolve broke into a million pieces. He flipped them over, slid his hands down her small frame, cupped each breast, lapped at her flesh, and slid his fingers along her sex, so moist, so perfect, so exactly as he remembered. She sighed, spread her legs and he coaxed a lovely orgasm from her, teasing her g-spot and stretching her some, remembering Mindy’s advice, and how tight Suzanne had been that first time, on the winter break trip.Stop. Gordon. This is a bad idea. Think with the brain in your fucking head for a change. She exhaled as the climax left her shaking and still pulsing around his fingers. "Now, Jack," she put her hand on his latex-covered shaft. "I want you to fuck me." And his upper brain closed down once more as he did as he was told, twice, before they emerged, her blushing and a little angry for missing her study group. Him packed and headed home to face the Gordon family crisis. He held her at his car, kissed her hard, not caring who saw them. “Last time,” she said, against his chest. “Okay? Because I still think we should not be more than… friends… you know, who can, um, have sex, and stuff. Without any awkwardness.”He laughed so hard she stepped away, frowning at him. He finally collected himself and yanked her close, taking in deep breaths of her, committing it to memory. “Good call, Red. Thanks for the mercy fuck.”“Oh that was no mercy fuck, Gordon. I wanted it. You wanted it. Now go home and don’t call me, because if you do I’ll think you might be falling for me. And we can’t have that, now can we?” she shot him a look he figured out later was one of remorse, smacked his ass and walked away without a backward glance. He watched her until she was absorbed by a crowd of fellow students headed to the library. Gulping back the strong urge to yell out, to beg her to come with him, to help him, to be by his side as his… girlfriend, he climbed into his truck and turned the key. Because something in him knew she could handle Gordon Senior and the whole fucking mess better than he could, something in him knew she would be The One, if he let her be. He drove home, music blaring, and did not call her for weeks.When they saw each other again, she was hanging off the arm of some tool he didn’t know, from another fraternity. She smiled at him briefly, then turned to wrap herself around the other guy, bringing sharp stab of fury to Jack’s brain. One that he suppressed by giving Freitag the high sign that he’d found a couple of girls willing to have a little private party with them, and diving between the legs of yet another nameless, faceless female. So he could forget Suzanne, and what she might have been for him.



.....and now...on to MUTUAL RELEASE!....keep watching both Amazon and B&N links (it's already live as a pre order on All Romance Ebooks). Official release date is April 4 but you just never know... do ya? So far ARC readers are loving it. I hope you do too.
Happy ReadingLiz

In Between Days....The Thumb Puppet Post

I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say that authors are like those goofy little toys that were popular once, and sometimes still are if you are in the right hipster store...you know the ones...the "thumb puppet" that is all upright and perfect one minute, then all droopy and collapsed-looking the next.

Yep. That's my analogy and I am by god sticking with it.

No matter how many times you get up in the morning as an indie author who truly does want to be "discovered" and shoved in front of the masses with a giant marketing budget, sent on "casting calls" in LA to pick a dream cast for the premium cable series, be on every possible tv show, in every magazine, have your series name used by Bill Mahr and Jon Stewart and Anderson Cooper in light, humorous banter.....when you sit down to Write the Dang Book, there is just you.

You and your computer screen (unless you are old school and use a legal pad)...that is all there is.  You and that flashing cursor, blank page and your imagination.  

So you make it happen. You pants (like me, figuring the journey is as good as the ending). Or your plot and plan and make graphs on your fridge door. Or you endlessly research while head writing. But at the end of the day You Write the Dang Book.


Damn you are awesome. Puppet strong!

Then, you either hit the rejection snag, or the editing Screeching Halt of "this doesn't work, change it all from here...." 

Down puppet.

But you spring back up, do what you are told by the wisest of all wise persons, Your Editor. Or you do a little revision and resubmit.  Puppet back up!  You rock! You are already planning what your entourage will be required to serve you for lunch during the casting calls....


You bounce up and down for a while, suffering the slings and arrows of the entire flaying...erm...editing process. And then, the book is READY! You have bought and paid for the book blog tours, written the posts, done your due diligence to make sure this book is by GOD gonna be seen and heard and loved by the masses.

Strong puppet!

Then, release day, and the subsequent days, and you have another plot bunny escape in your exhausted brain, and your first royalties are maybe disappointing....slow...droopy...down...puppet.

But, because we ARE what we SAY WE ARE: The Published Writer, albeit one in a churning sea of them, buffeted by JR Ward and EL James jealousy, propped up by our friends and family and whatever small group of fans we've snagged...and it's back up.  Back to the computer. Back to the blinking cursor...you and the blank page. Oh you sexy thing...how I have missed you....


I have a new book coming out, one I put a lot of blood and guts into (not that I didn't for all my others but this one is pretty special to me). I'm in the STRONG PUPPET mode: survived the edits, the galleys, the proofs, the catches, the glitches, the early few who are happy to have read it first....but I see it coming, like the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel  that is an oncoming train.  The really down puppet moment of the first crappy review, or snarky conversation about you on Twitter, or whatever it is that represents that thumb, shoved up under your feet, forcing you to own your own ego.

But you know what? I'm already communing with my latest WIP, pondering edits for 3 others I have turned in, and am good and these In Between Days of the slowly drooping thumb puppet will come and go and I'll have more books at the end of it.

Wish me luck. As I do you. 
Liz, whose puppet would be shaped like a Beer Wench.


And because I'm that way, here is a never before seen and utterly unedited FREE excerpt from the upcoming 3rd novel of the Black Jack Gentlemen Trilogy coming from Tri Destiny Publishing August and September 2013:


Sophie tried not to picture him…that person who had ruined her, tried to kill her even, now that she would acknowledge what that last bike ride was about. They had exchanged personal vows, she wore his collar, he had a great job, that she found out later was a scam just like everything about him. And she had signed over nearly everything she had to him. After a couple of years together, she’d been utterly, completely duped. And he nearly cashed in on her million-dollar life insurance policy…nearly. He would not, could not touch her now. While she had no idea where he was, she hadn’t pursued him. Her heart would not let her. And she’d been too busy trying to recover both physical and financially to worry, figuring he surely would not be stupid enough to emerge in her life again.
She stood, letting the hot water sluice off her skin and observed herself in the floor to ceiling mirror. Well into her second year of life as “Madame Katrina” by night she had nearly paid back Lance her half of the investment and, apparently, was within months of emerging from personal bankruptcy. She may never be able to buy a house, but she no longer cared about such things. The angry scar that ran from her abdomen around to her back stood out. She touched it, thinking that fairly simple plastic surgery could rid her of it. But she needed it to keep her on an even keel, to remind her of the mistake she made with a man she trusted with everything that very nearly killed her outright. It stung as she pressed her fingers to it. She’d lost her spleen, and one kidney that day, sustained a compound fracture of her left leg that still hurt in the cold. But the lasting token of her ill considered years spent as a submissive were the ones inside, buried deep in her soul and psyche that turned into an insomniac, exercise obsessed, emotionally detached from everything. But with a dark, invisible scar that only she would touch, on occasion, to remind herself why “Madame Katrina” existed at all.
“Hey, you all right in there sunshine?” Lance wandered in, holding a huge cardboard cup of something caffeinated. Sophie’s long-buried caffeine freak twitched somewhere in her memory. Those days were long gone, along with her uber-bitch, know-it-all persona she’d used to shove away one man who’d been perfect and driven her straight in to the arms of …
“Hey,” she said, wrapping a towel around herself, completely unselfconscious in his presence. She stood in front of her closet of “Domme wear” and pondered the options. Many new clients stated their preferences for her garb and attitude on the form her website provided. “Robert” had merely said, “surprise me.” Sophie bit the side of her nail, at a loss and pissed off about that fact. This was her god damn scene, time to start acting like it.
Going with the hard bitch look tonight, she decided. Tugging on butter soft leather pants and stiletto boots, topped with black bra and nothing more, she admired herself a half second. Forcing her mind to drop everything but thoughts of “Robert” and his unknown needs, she stalked out into the main room, noting that Lance had lit all the candles, turned on the gas fireplace, and had the state of the art sound system cranked to, of all things, a Bob Marley song. She sighed, pissed at him but glad of his presence all the same. He sat, cradling that ubiquitous coffee cup to his chest in the large leather chair nearest the fireplace, bellowing out the lyrics along with the stereo.
“Not really the sort of mood music I usually use,” she said, stretching out her quads and hamstrings which had tightened after the hot tub. Something was off in her head and she knew it. That didn’t bode well for her client. And Sophie was nothing if not totally customer service focused. Lance frowned as the song wound down and hit the remote, letting some hard core grunge pound through her. She smiled. “That’s better. Thanks. Is it show time?”
Lance looked at his giant watch then tugged on his suit coat. Sophie wondered not for the first time where he go his expensive looking clothes. It would take something like a hundred yards of expensive wool to make just one of those suits. And they always made him look a thousand times better, which was a trick since the man was positively edible chocolate even dressed in sweat pants and a tee shirt. “Stop ogling me bitch.” He growled, his eyes shining.
“I can window shop, can’t I?” She cocked her hip and batted her lashes at him. “Just ‘cause I can’t buy the goods?”
“Yeah,” the low, movie-star worthy voice purred as he straightened his tie. Never in her life had she met a man more comfortable in his own skin. Amazing, considering all the things he’d done in his life to land here, a gay man practically married to a well known attorney with political ambitions—serving as business partner, bodyguard and IT consultant to a Madame for Hire. “You can look. It feeds my ego.”
They both startled at a knock at the door, and both glanced at the clock on the wall. He’d set it to let off a low chime that was actually an alarm, when she was within fifteen minutes of the end time of the pre-paid bondage session. “Seems as Robert is an eager youngster,” Lance rumbled, dimming the lights and shooing her back so she could make her entrance for full effect. Sophie blinked.
“Youngster?” She squeaked as sweat popped out on her upper back, and dripped in a familiar, hot yoga like way down her skin. Now she knew why she’d been jittery. It had to be.
“Yeah. Some kid really, but he checked out, never fear boss lady.” He pointed a forefinger at her, cocked his thumb like a trigger. “Ready?” He winked.
She gulped, nodded, her mouth so dry she could spit cotton. Lance shot her a funny look. “Go on,” she said unwilling to say anymore and suddenly ready to end this thing, finally, to have the moment she and Brody Vaughn had set in motion weeks ago. And quash it like a fucking bug, saving her soul in the process. “Open the door,” she said, putting both hands on either side of the backlit doorway, spreading her legs and adopting her “Let go big boy” look.
The man stepped in, dressed in a suit, dark hair combed back, forcing the oddest reaction from her—he needs a haircut. Then Brody stepped into the light, smiled at the sight of her until she moved forward and gave him a full look into her eyes.

Sword's Call by C.A. Szarek Book Feature

   ***Comment on this post to get entered into a contest for a chance to win a swag pack or a free copy of Sword's Call (ebook) Please leave your email so I can contact you!***


Thank you very much for having me today, Liz!
I would like to share with the world, my VERY FIRST book, Sword’s Call (King’s Rider’s Book 1).
This story is very close to my heart because I literally had a dream about it about thirteen years ago. I have been writing since I was a teenager, but over the years I would go back and forth, not really writing consistently. Until a few years ago when I decided to “get serious” about it and got back to this story, wrote, re-wrote, edited and finished it. Ultimately sold it to my AWESOME publisher, Gypsy Shadow Publishing (www.gypsyshadow.com )
Blurb:For generations, the Ryhans, ruling family of the Province of Greenwald have been keepers of a sword rumored to possess enough magic to defeat kings. Lord Varthan, a former archduke and betrayer of the king, covets the sword and invades Greenwald.Lady Ceralda Ryhan, daughter of the murdered duke, gains the sword and flees, trusting only her white wolf, Trikser—magically bonded to her. Cera needs nothing more to aid in her fight. Jorrin Aldern, half elfin and half human, left his home in the mountains of Aramour to find his human father who disappeared twenty turns before, but finds Cera with Varthan and his shades on her tail instead. His dual heritage and empathic magic will tempt Cera in ways she never thought she’d desire. But can he convince her trust and love can pave the path to redemption or will the epic battle end in tragedy and evil conquer them all?
Excerpt:“Tell me about it,” Jorrin encouraged.“I pictured our magic as a rope and wrapped it around us. I stepped into him, making us one. I concentrated and I saw you. But then I saw me, too. My eyes were closed, and I felt like I was sitting beside myself. It was…unsettling, at first. But then Trik must have moved his head, because I saw into the woods…he turned, right?”He grinned at her. “Yes, he did. You did do it.”“His eyesight is so sharp. It was a wonder to see.” Their eyes locked and held. Air ruffled her hair, causing gooseflesh to rise on her neck as a substantial breeze kicked up.Trikser made a noise in his throat but she ignored him.Jorrin looked so wild and beautiful with the wind in his dark hair, his high cheekbones flushed with color to the tips of his slender tapered ears. Her heart skipped as his blue eyes darkened and she read intense heat there.Last night he’d been in her dreams. Try as she might, Cera could no longer deny that she was attracted to him. That she’d liked that kiss he stole what seemed ages ago.Would he kiss her again? Heat crept up her neck and burned her cheeks.The way he was looking at her right then made her lose her train of thought and her worries.“Tell Trikser to move.”“What?” But Cera already sent the mental command. Her bond slipped off her lap with little encouragement. He’d caught sight of a rabbit, and took off after it.Jorrin grabbed her hand and tugged forward. She fell onto his lap, moving to him instead of away, ignoring mental cautions that this wasn’t a good idea, despite her dreams, her admitted attraction.Their lips met in heated rushed. Cera’s arms shot around his neck and she pressed closer. His body was hard against hers and a tremor shot down her spine.Her breasts pressed into his chest as he pinned her against him. Jorrin shoved his tongue into her mouth and groaned. She clung to him, moving her mouth under hisWhen she touched her tongue to his, he moaned, his hands shooting down to cup her bottom.Cera wiggled in his arms as an unfamiliar warmth enveloped her like an embrace. Jorrin’s erection pressed into her hip and she clutched his tunic with both hands.When he kissed her harder, her head spun. Feeling his urgency, confusion rushed her. She moaned, fighting the sensation of his warmth, his strength as he squeezed her against him. Her desire for more. Her desire for him. She couldn’t lose control.Yanking back, she panted against him.Jorrin’s chest heaved into her breasts as they both struggled for breath. “What’s wrong?” he croaked.
WHERE YOU CAN FIND IT! Gypsy Shadow | Barnes and Noble | Amazon |Amazon UK | ARe|Smashwords
About me: Sword’s Call is C.A.’s first book, and is the first in the King’s Riders Series. C.A. also has a Romanic suspense, Collision Force, published by Total-E-Bound Publishing and will be released July 1, 2013.C.A. is originally from Ohio, but got to Texas as soon as she could. She is married and has a bachelor's degree in Criminal Justice.
She works with kids when she’s not writing.
She’s always wanted to be a writer and is overjoyed to share her stories with the world.

Where to find ME online:Blog: www.caszarekwriter.blogspot.comFacebook: www.facebook.com/caszarekTwitter: @caszarekI LOVE to hear from readers: caszarekauthor@gmail.com

   ***Comment on this post to get entered into a contest for a chance to win a swag pack or a free copy of Sword's Call (ebook) Please leave your email so I can contact you!***

What's coming next:

Collision Force (Crossing Forces Book 1) will be published from Total-E-Bound Publishing!

Pre-Order May 20, 2013
Pre-Release June 3, 2013
General Release July 1,2013

Ebook and Print!

  Book Blurb:

Badboy, married to his job FBI agent Cole Lucas always gets his man. So when the unthinkable happens and one gets away, Cole grits his teeth and hunts human trafficker Carlo Maldonado all the way to Antioch, Texas, where he collides with Detective Andi MacLaren.Cole doesn’t do small towns and he doesn’t get involved with women he works with, but Andi tempts him in ways he doesn’t want to acknowledge.
Two murders, her partner shot and leading the investigation on her own, the last thing Andi needs is a cocky FBI agent that sees her as no more than a tagalong.Widow and single mother Andi is used to being on her own. When Cole gets stuck without a place to stay, crashing on her couch puts them in dangerous territory.
Attraction and passion bring Andi to a place she left behind when her husband died.Her three-year-old son quickly wiggles his way into Cole’s heart, and he starts contemplating things—family, love—that he’d never planned for himself.
Can being forced to work together make them stronger or will their differences jeopardize their case and their hearts?

Find Collision Force on Goodreads:  http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/17379962-collision-force

Even in The Madness...I still LOVE Soccer

Yeah, I'm a huge b-ball fan...a LOUISVILLE CARDINAL FAN to be specific, although as a true fan, I fully realize they are capable of losing to Colorado State today.....so instead of sitting around biting my already ragged fingernails I'm gonna share a never before seen excerpt from a Work In Progress.

And I am in a bit of a mourning mode having watched the latest Spartacus episode...sigh...

THIS SOCCER CENTRIC CHAPTER IS IN HONOR OF THE U.S. MEN'S NATIONAL SOCCER TEAM'S "SNOWBALLING" OF THE COSTA RICAN TEAM IN THE WORLD CUP QUALIFIER LAST NIGHT!




RED CARD will be the 3rd story in the currently planned Black Jack Gentlemen Trilogy releasing in September from Tri-Destiny Publishing.  It is the story of Brody Vaughn, the young superstar goal keeper of the team in their second season and his road to understanding himself. He had been a submissive to a professor while in college and playing for a NCAA Men's Championship team until his Mistress got blackmail threats and dropped him like a hot potato, leaving him floundering. He takes the goalie spot on the expansion team for their second year of play on autopilot, until he meets Sophie Harrison. She is legal counsel for the young team, former successful partner with Harrison & Winter Patent Speciality law firm in Ann Arbor. But she was nearly destroyed by a single bad decision and is looking to rebuild her life:  soccer team lawyer by day, Dominatrix for hire by night--anything to regain control of everything around her.  But she and Brody are on a collision course, both destined to learn something important about themselves that will change the course of their lives forever....

But for now....A soccer moment:

(A PRE-EDITED CHAPTER EXCERPT) 



Brody wiped the sweat from his eyes and focused on the guy bearing down on him, ball at his feet. He watched the ball, as he’d been trained to do, then observed the man’s legs, watched how his hips turned slightly to the right, making him adjust his own tactic at the last minute. He reached out, and the ball that the star forward on the Orlando team had been prepared to plant right in the back of his net landed in it. The crowd roared. Brody winked at the guy. “Not in my house, dude.” He said, as he put all he had behind a kick that sent the sphere sailing over the heads of both teams, landing at the feet of his teammates who spent about four seconds getting into the net of the other goal, between the legs of their flat footed goalkeep. God he fucking loved this game.He was on fire, had his head on straight, something was going right for a change. The match ended in a one-all draw which meant one thing: the sort of ending every decent goal keeper craved—the shoot out.  Brody downed some water, poured the rest over his head and glared at the line of assholes, opposing players who honestly thought they would get a ball past him. He shook out his arms, rolled his shoulders, took a few quick breaths and crouched, never more ready. The first shot went wild to the left, not even coming near the net. Brody stayed completely still, which he knew unnerved the kicker. The second one hit him square in the chest. He laughed, and tossed it back out, rolling his eyes. The third shot made him take a diving leap to the left to snag, but no real problem there.He got a breather when the other goalie had to go to work. His team made one point off their turn, which took a slight bit of pressure of him. He smacked his hands together, rolled his shoulder and glared at the pip squeak who was about to kick. Brody picked all three of that kid’s attempts with little effort. All eyes turned to the other side of the field. His team scored twice, and the match was over. Brody dropped to his knees, as energy seemed to whoosh out of him in a scary rush. His head pounded in a familiar way, and his hands shook. The match was over. He had to go off the field, get showered, dressed in his suit and go to some god awful event with…whatshername…Kelli. Yeah. Kelli’s daddy was throwing a fund raiser and he had promised to attend. Brody tried hard not to puke. Looking up at his celebrating teammates he gave a weak smile, got to his feet and trudged off the pitch without a word to anyone. He maintained his silence, feeling like he were encased in a cocoon, as he got clean, got dressed, tucked his sunglasses up on his head and his keys in his pockets. Ignoring all the whooping and hollering going on around him, he made his way towards the door. A few players slapped him on the back, yelled various profanities. But Brody had switched to auto-pilot. His vision tunneled and his pulse pounded in his ears. It was not necessarily an unfamiliar place. He had played goal keeper for the last six of ten years playing this game. It was a naturally lonely place. You were the eyes on the field, part of the team but at the same time the ultimate loner. The guy who had the final say. The place where the proverbial buck stopped. Honestly, Brody felt most at home there, simultaneously in a group, but apart. A hand dropped onto his shoulder, startling him out of his semi-trance. “Great saves Vaughn,” the coach said. Brody gazed him about a half-second too long for his silence to be polite. “You’re in a hurry. Headed to the Grosse Pointe thing tonight?” Brody tried and failed to suppress a shudder. Metin eyed him, his hand still on a shoulder that was suddenly sore, aching—a reminder that he had forgone the usual post-game therapy of massage, ice and heat on it. Shit. I am losing my fucking mind. The only place I can focus is on the pitch anymore. I should never have let Kelli convince me to…“Uh, yeah, I am.” He stepped out of Metin’s reach, something the coach noted and that Brody realized he noted. But his skin was crawling, as if there were an army of ants marching all over every inch of him. Trying hard not to recall how he’d learned to relax after stressful college games, he gulped, willed his body not to react tot the memory, and pasted on a weak smile. But just as his coach was about to speak, no doubt to impart some bit of wisdom or advice Brody couldn’t take even if he wanted to, a shout and a loud bang distracted him. The young men looked at each other, then Brody blinked and the noise of whatever the hell was going on around the corner of lockers got louder. “See you there,” Metin mouthed, before turning and yelling at the players who had decided that a Greco-Roman wrestling match was a good use of their celebration energy. “Yeah, sure.” Brody said to his retreating back. He stood for a minute, listened to Metin curse and stomp and separate the two men. Unbidden, a vision so clear and bright he was shocked the whole locker room couldn’t see it appeared before him. Her, his Mistress, She of the long dark hair, long slim legs, full lush lips and possessed of his peace, his soul, his everything. The last time he saw her, the night the text hit both their phones with the blackmail threat she’d been in rare form. It was just before the final game of the NCAA final four men’s soccer game and he’d been a head case, a mess, a wreck with the sort of pulsing, pounding nervousness that only high level athletes, actors, dancers, rock stars or concert pianists can ever truly appreciate.His Mistress knew him well. Took one look at him when he arrived at her front door and yanked him inside, tossed him to the floor as if he weren’t a six foot five, semi professional athlete and she a petite woman fifteen years his senior. Biting his lip, he looked up, reliving it, the sweet bite of the whip after she yanked off his practice gear. Her low, sexy voice never raised, never had to do anything more than whisper her commands. She’d trussed him up that night, used the well worn soft cotton ropes that he loved feeling against his skin, loved hearing the creak of when he would shift around, for the express purpose of hearing them. Within an hour he was a weeping mess, and the hour after that, finally relaxed, finally at peace within himself having given up the natural testosterone-fueled tendency of a strong, virile male to fight back and resist her. But that was the beauty of his psyche, he finally learned at her hand after years of wholly unsatisfactory sex with various women. He required this—the pain, the submission, the commands. They weren’t into hard-core humiliation. But she knew how to wield a candle’s wax, ice cubes and clamps. And nothing helped settle his mind more than focusing on the very real pain only a caning could bring, preferably while his wrists and ankles were shackled with metal. He had exquisite control over his own orgasm now, could ramp up right to very brink of release, and thanks to his training, allow a small hint of it to allow him to back away, and keep going. But the one woman he’d allowed himself touch, to finger, to fuck since then did the opposite. Kelli-with-an-"i" made him lose his control, made him come, fast and hard like a god damned kid and afterwards he felt even more overwrought than when he started.Brody’s legs shook so hard he had to drop to the large wooden bench that stretched along the wall, in front of somebody’s locker who must still be in the shower, or with the trainers. That last night was imprinted on him, tattooed, like one of the inked messages or images on his skin. He put his hand to his neck, feeling the chain that he’d had done, for her, for them. It was hot, as if it knew his agony. “Go Brody,” She’d said, her huge green eyes full of tears. He’d been naked, unbound, set loose and had no idea what to do or say. “You have to. We…we are done. I release you. I command you to leave me. Now!” She had raised her voice then, high, loud and a little screechy in her panic. He understood it now. Then, all he knew was the look on her face at the moment of rejection.The rest of the scene went black, as if on a television when the power is cut off. Brody stood, dropped his sunglasses into place and stomped it out, unwilling to revisit the abject horror of it, and the following days as his entire life imploded before his eyes. Yes, Vanderbilt won the men’s soccer championship, a first in their program’s history. He had a hand in it, yes, saving the day in the eighty-sixth minute of play when it seemed as though Indiana would rebound from a missed corner kick. Brody had lunged right, nearly missing it, then stuck his leg out, in a trance, and kicked the ball free of the net. They had won 1-0. But he only knew it happened thanks to photos, and sports news reports. He remembered exactly none of it. His mind was on shut-down, having been rejected and he honestly had not given a single shit about it, because afterwards he couldn’t go to her.He squinted when the sun hit his sweaty forehead. “Holy shit, oof,” he grunted when a female-feeling object launched itself into his un-ready arms. “Jesus, Kelli,” he growled, putting her down and wiping his face with a shaking hand. “Don’t do that.” He turned on the asshole again, frowning down at her over-done, over skinny self. And she just beamed up at him as if he’d handed her a dozen roses and an engagement ring. Dear God, help me get out of this. Please. He let himself be dragged to his car, a brand new Merc that he hated but would live in if he could just to hide from Kelli-with-an-“i.”  He missed his bike like a missing limb. But he had given that up when he left Nashville. The feel of his Mistress’ arms around his middle as they would take long rides out into the Tennessee countryside still had the power to make him breathless. But his training as a young man and as a sub to his one true love would not be over ridden. He opened Kelli’s door, handed her in, and clenched the key fob in his hand so tightly that when he opened it, there was a distinctive Mercedes medallion imprinted there.


And if you are inclined, I'm over at the ARe Cafe, talking about my upcoming stand alone novel: Mutual Release (and included an excerpt from it)! 

DIVINE FURY: Guest Post and Liz's Review

On Writing Sex ScenesI’m a mystery thriller writer but I make it a point to include sex scenes in my books.  They aren’t the hard core x-rated stuff, but pretty clearly r-rated.  When I give the books to my 13-year-old daughter to read, I give her the paperback version and staple together the steamy parts.  That may be 8 pages of a 285-page book.I include these scenes for three reasons.  First, I noticed that the people I emulate – folks like Lee Child and Michael Connelly – are including them.  I didn’t want to leave out any crucial elements of the genre.  Second, I enjoy those parts of the mysteries that I read.  And, finally, they’re both fun and challenging to write.The response to these scenes in my books has been mixed.  Most people, of course, don’t say anything because the books aren’t mainly about this or even the romance.  However, some people have been troubled by sex scenes that seem to have little to do with the plot.  It’s clear from the remarks of some others, though, that they’ve enjoyed these parts.  I can’t argue that the sex doesn’t have much to do with the mystery plots.  However, they have a lot to do with the main character and what is going on in his life.  I mean he’s a guy in his late 30s without a steady girlfriend.  I can tell you he’s thinking about sex A LOT.  I consider myself a beginner when it comes to sex scenes.  For that reason, most of them have been pretty standard fare at least in terms of the whole range of possible sex scenes.  A man and woman who really like each other and have been building up to this in their relationship.  There are some differences in venue and positioning but nothing ground breaking.  In my first book, it was a couple thrown together intensely by circumstance.  In the second, it was a couple who had worked together for a long time.  (She was the boss so a slight reversal in the conventional power relationship.)   I think good friends who are mutually attracted to each other and laughing as they’re having sex for the first or 20th time is about as good as it gets.   So, I’ve stuck with that formula pretty much so far. As I’m writing this, I’m thinking about what it would be like to write a really sexy novel, like two days in someone’s life that is just an amazing confluence of erotic events.  It makes me tired just thinking about it.  And, to be honest, it makes me pretty tired reading books that are of that type.  As in life, I need my fiction to give me a little down time between the exciting parts.  So, I doubt that that particular novel is coming any time soon.  And, my hat is off to those who can pull that  off well.  It’s not easy. 



DIVINE FURYByRobert B. Lowe
BLURB:  
Candidate Andrew Harper was a college basketball star, a crusading prosecutor and a beloved Congressman.  He is also openly gay.  When the San Francisco politician gets the inside track to become California’s next governor, it sends shockwaves through the political and religious establishment.
Reporter Enzo Lee is cajoled into leaving his comfortable niche covering fluffy features for the San Francisco News to cover the historic campaign.  A series of campaign events are mysteriously and dangerously disrupted.  A key endorsement is scuttled at the last minute.  An earlier murder takes on new significance when it is linked to a Watergate-style break-in involving computer spying.
But, finding the culprits behind political sabotage and high-tech hacking take a back seat when it’s discovered that a troubled war veteran armed with guns and explosives has begun a violent journey from small-town Montana to the City by the Bay.
When Lee becomes a target himself he must dodge attempts on his own life while trying to expose the conspiracy and, with the help of police allies, foil an assassination plot.  Divine Fury is the newly released second book in the Enzo Lee series from Pulitzer Prize-winning author Robert B. Lowe.  The series was kicked off by the best-selling Project Moses, the bioterroism thriller that made the Amazon Top 20 Mysteries list and was a finalist in the Best Indie Books of 2012 competition. 
Divine Fury is a page-turning thriller with suspense, action, romance and enough twists to keep the reader guessing.  It also focuses on a timely theme as the issues of same-sex marriage and gay rights become a major cultural battleground in America.    





EXCERPT:
Lee saw the bright flash from the other side of the street an instant before he felt more than heard the boom of the explosion that tore through the bank of newspaper boxes and sent out a shock wave that shattered windows halfway up the office building behind. He saw a plume of smoke from across Market and heard the sound of glass breaking and falling, accompanied by the screams.
The first ones were screams of shock, surprise and fear by people around him. Two seconds later, he could hear people hurt and maimed howling in agony and those around them shouting for help.
Everyone was staring at the bomb site as the smoke continued to rise and the sound of glass hitting the pavement seemed to go on forever. Lee was staring in that direction as well when he saw Walberg. His face was streaked with black paint but Lee still recognized him. Walberg was climbing over the barrier. When he reached the other side, he reached into his coat, pulled out a gun and started walking toward the yellow Cadillac.
Lee pushed through the people in front of him and jumped the barrier. He started after Walberg. He saw Connors standing up in the Caddy next to Harper with one hand on his chest, holding him where he was seated. Like everyone else, she was staring in the direction of the bomb site.
“Bobbie!” yelled Lee, trying to get her attention. “Bobbie!” There was too much commotion . Too much noise. He couldn’t get her to look his way. Desperate, he reached into his pocket, found his cell phone and threw it at the Cadillac. Then, he sprinted after Walberg.



REVIEW SOUND BYTES
“Gripping…with an adrenaline-filled climax combined with compelling characters.” – Kirkus Reviews “A fascinating and fast-paced mystery/thriller.  It is a thought provoking and extremely captivating story." – Kindle Book Review


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AUTHOR INFORMATION:
Robert B. Lowe is a Pulitzer-prize winning author whose fiction is based in San Francisco, his adopted home.
His past experiences – a 12-year career in investigative journalism and a Harvard Law School degree – enable him to write gripping mystery thrillers in both the legal and journalistic fields. Lowe draws his inspiration from John Grisham, Dick Francis and Lee Child and adds his own San Francisco twist. Readers will enjoy his references to the city’s landmarks such as Chinatown, North Beach and Pacific Heights  and the Bay area’s foodie culture.
Divine Fury is Lowe’s second novel.  His first was the best-selling Project Moses which reached the Amazon Top 20 Mysteries list and was a finalist in the Best Indie Books of 2012 competition hosted by the Kindle Book Review. 
Divine Fury continues the adventures of Enzo Lee, a jaded journalist rehabilitating his career as a feature writer in San Francisco who stumbles into scandals and criminal conspiracies that require his investigative expertise to unravel.
When Lowe isn’t writing he enjoys a day at the golf course and spending time with his wife and daughters.



LINKS:

Facebook:  http://on.fb.me/W1rVMC Website:  www.robertblowe.comTwitter: @authorRobBLoweAmazon Divine Fury  B&N Divine Fury

Liz's Review:

Divine Fury, by Robert B. Lowe is the second in a series of political thrillers with reporter Enzo Lee at the center.  This one includes a gay candidate for California governor, a huge fundamentalist Christian sect, a depressed Army vet, a sexy lady city editor, a black lesbian cop and several side characters that are included for impact.

First of all I will state that I took this book review on because I was looking for something new (i.e.: new genre for me) to read. I don't normally pick up this sort of thing. But I am glad that I did. The few times I've read John Grisham or that Patterson guy were similar, fast-moving experiences.

Mr. Lowe writes in short chapters, moving from character to character and scene to scene quickly in a way that keeps you compelled to see who's up next.  It was very interesting to see how each set of characters were introduced and how they would come to interact. This kind of a story truly is like a web, woven from the outside in, with all the various players and story lines ultimately intersecting with a climax that was, while a bit on the expected side, well written nonetheless.

If you like fast-paced political thrillers, especially with a food loving male journalist with a good sense of humor and great taste in wine, I'd highly recommend this. It's the perfect book for a vacation read, something to hold your interest, entertain and appreciate. I'm a fan of character driven stories so I was somewhat frustrated by certain scenes and elements but the more I read the more I kept thinking:
"Hmmmmm.....I would love to collaborate with a writer like this. Between us we could really come up with something fun and exciting."

A "Four Lagers" Read.

The Release...Is Mutual: ARC GIVEAWAY TIME!

As you may or may not know, my new release will be available Thursday, April 4 in ebook format, with print coming soon after that.



But because I love you people, I'm having a contest to give away an Advanced Reader/Review Copy (ARC) of MUTUAL RELEASE!

Yes, I am happy too.....


So happy in fact I want to see how creative YOU can be.

In order to win a Mutual Release ARC (which in translation means: "Free Book. Before the Public Can Even Buy it.") you gotta let me know a few things about you in your comment at the end of this post:
1.  If you are already a fan of the Stewart Realty series, who is your favorite character and why? There is no word limit to this answer. Show me whatcha got, tell me who it is, in your most creative possible voice.
               1.a.  If this will be your first foray into the series (which is fine because it has been written as a STAND ALONE NOVEL, but will serve as a hook to get you into the rest of the characters) then tell me how you heard about this blog post and contest (Facebook, twitter, google plus, overheard at the bus stop or in the grocery line.... whatever). 

2.  In order to award you a copy, I need to know what you will do once you finish the book. In other words, who you will tell and how? (If you liked it, of course. If you hate it, then be sure and let me know why and hopefully you won't hate it enough to tell anyone else).  If you have a review blog, or are a reviewer not already on my publisher's ARC list, please tell me that, and leave a link to your blog or site. If you are a reviewer for a newspaper, periodical or other publication or site NOT yours, tell me about that.  If you are a "rated reviewer" for Goodreads, Amazon or some other site I don't know about, that's also good for me to know.

Finally....3.  I need your email address. Without that you cannot win.

THE CONTEST RUNS UNTIL WEDNESDAY, MARCH 20 WHICH IS WHEN ARC COPIES WILL BE AVAILABLE!


OH and as a total bonus! Here is your pre order link for All Romance Ebooks! They have ALL ereader formats...and once it's live, it's yours!
 http://www.allromanceebooks.com/product-mutualrelease-1145557-147.html

MUTUAL RELEASE Blurb:

Can two dark souls ever make a light?
As president of her own distribution company, Julie Dawson has all she ever wanted -- money, power, and respect. But her carefully crafted façade conceals a  torment of abuse and helplessness.  After years remaining emotionally aloof, she is finally independent, but alone. Because she refuses to rely on anyone but herself ever again. 
Evan Adams is no stranger to success, or personal demons. The horrific trauma that destroyed his twin sister, and tore his family apart, forced him to craft a new life from the ashes of the old. He's content enough, focusing ahead and not dwelling on his murky past. But something important is missing. He knows what that thing is but refuses to acknowledge it.
When a chance encounter brings these two strong-willed but damaged people together , what seems like a long, erotic journey through hell could lead them to a match made in heaven.
MUTUAL RELEASE:
A coming of age novel about trust...on the long road to love.

For an Official Excerpt check out this post:
http://shhmomsreading.com/exclusive-trailer-for-mutual-release-by-liz-crowe/

and.........because you made it this far down in the post a NEVER BEFORE SEEN EXCERPT!
Rated X for SeXy! (damn this is YOUR lucky day I'd say)


A leather chair appeared from the gloom. Evan looked around, then took the seat, disappointed but intrigued. He could hear Jack’s voice, his laughter low and inviting. What the fuck? Was Gordon getting in on action while he had to watch? Then he heard Jenna’s annoying giggle and realized the club must be making her watch too, only she got to do it with her date. He sighed, leaned back, and prepared himself to be underwhelmed.

“No,” a sexy, rough female voice broke through the clamor in his head. It must have surprised everyone because all the people on the couches glanced up. “I want him. Out here.” Evan looked straight at her and saw the hot-as-shit Domme point her bullwhip right at him. He gulped, actually looked around like a dork, thinking there must be someone behind him. He was no sub.She crooked her finger, her ruby-red moist lips drawing his gaze and making him feel positively hypnotized. His cock kept up its painful pressure along the inside of his zipper. A drop of sweat formed on his temple but he couldn’t move his arms to brush it away. All he knew… was her.

“Mr. Adams,” the disembodied voice said. “Your presence has been requested by our Mistress. Please. Do not make her wait.” 
The sheer curtain separating him from the crowd parted as he stood. Shoving his hands in his pockets and no longer aware of anything at all but what he wanted right now, he took the few steps down to the main floor.

“Stop!” She held up a hand. “Do not come any closer until I tell you.” She snapped her fingers. A tall man dressed only in leather pants emerged from somewhere to her left. A woman approached him, smiling and holding out a tray filled with…. He stared, then shook his head, backing away, his brain on fire and his body in flight mode. “Where are you going, slave?” The woman cracked her whip. Evan sensed its bite near his cheek.

“I am no one’s slave,” he croaked out, sounding like a whiney kid.“Perhaps. But I am not just anyone.” Before he could catch a breath, the woman was in his space. He kept his hands at his sides, knowing if he touched her he would be punished. Her full lips were inches from his. She leaned in, placed a tender kiss on his cheek, then stepped back.

“The Mistress has chosen!” the voice boomed and the room heaved a collective sigh. Evan whipped his head around, suddenly terrified and hornier than he had been in his entire existence. He closed his eyes as a loud whooshing sound started echoing around in his head in perfect time with his heartbeat. He held his ground, biting the inside of his cheek raw to keep from falling to his knees and kissing his way up her shiny patent leather shoe. The woman stood, the cape-like cloak draped around her tall, perfect body. He couldn’t move and had no idea what to do now anyway.

She took two long steps and was back in his space, tugging his tie, lifting it free of his collar and letting her lips linger over his, tempting, teasing, and bringing his body to full attention from his scalp to his toes. What in the hell was going on here? He was a sub? But the whooshing sound would not stop; it deafened him and he started to shake. The woman put her hands on his shoulders and kept kissing him just enough to make him insane. Disembodied hands removed his suit coat. Then, with a powerful jerk, She ripped his dress shirt into two scraps of expensive cotton that hung from his wrists.

His nipples hardened, his skin broke out in goose bumps. More bodiless hands unfastened his cuffs and took what remained of his shirt away. The woman kept smiling, trailing her fingertip down his chest. Evan’s lungs hurt he was breathing so hard.“You are very….” She leaned in and touched her tongue to a nipple, making him gasp. “In need of….” She licked her way across his chest to the other hardened nub of flesh and bit, hard, making him yelp and grunt to distract himself from coming in his trousers. “A lesson in what it means to wield control.”

She unfurled the whip, keeping her lips on his skin, licking and nibbling her way up his neck as he stood, fists clenched and teeth grinding. Then she bit down on his lower lip, bringing tears to his eyes and yet more urgency to fuck. What was happening to him?“Sit.” She shoved him down. Evan dropped, hoping someone had put a chair there. His ass hit leather and wood. Watching mesmerized as she dug a sharp heel into his still-covered thigh. The pulsing behind his zipper had reached a level he’d never experienced. It was as if he were already coming, in his head, trying to relieve the pressure without actually ejaculating. This was a total goddamn trip. He sighed, looked up at the ceiling.

“Don’t look away from me, slave.” Her rough voice made the whooshing sound return between his ears. She snapped her fingers. Two nearly naked women scuttled to his side, undid his belt, unzipped his pants, and pulled off his shoes while removing his trousers, leaving only his tie and boxers.

“Holy fucking mother of… ah!” he cried out, unable to stop when the woman stood over him, her warm, inviting sex right at his eye level. Other hands rubbed, teased him through his underwear. But he kept his eyes trained up as he sucked in a lungful of her heady scent.

“You think this is all there is, don’t you, boy?” The woman’s voice filled his head. “Your giant cock and what you can do with it.” She stepped away from him, flicking her whip at his inner thighs, breaking up the pleasure with a bite of pain that made him curse and lean forward. The lovely, soft hands that had been on his aching shaft disappeared. “Oh no you don’t. You sit; you take, and you do not come. For any reason. If you do, I will make you very,” she slid the handle of the whip along his reddened inner leg, “very sorry. Are we clear? Dear?”


So....excited yet? I know I am....I'm on tour in April and May with a ton of stops, and an opportunity to win a KINDLE! Click here to see all the stops.