Lynn Thompson's Blog, page 40

Introducing–>>Josephine McNabb

As this weeks Featured Author

https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8183244.Josephine_McNabb

No one knows that they are living alongside the creatures that horror stories are made of…

Danni Malone grew up fighting monsters and catching rogues. She keeps her powers hidden and is desperate to live a normal life with her boyfriend Greg.

Keri Jenkins joined the Paranormal Division of the Government after a horrific incident that left her orphaned.

Both of these women are thrown together to catch the person trying to kill the influential Vampire Nest Master Damon. They move in with him and pose as his new security, dealing with threats and assassination attempts.

Will they catch the would-be-killer in time?

Will they be able to save the supernatural community from disaster?

Or will these women lose everything?

Blake-A Montana Dayton Novel Ch. 20

My head felt like a spike had been pushed through it, my body ached.

Why was I so uncomfortable?

I tried to move. Numbness weighed down my arms and legs, exhaustion threatened to pull me under. At least warmth flowed through this place. I moaned and considered opening my eyes. A hint of light penetrated my eyelids. I considered glancing around at  my surroundings. I kept my eyes closed, afraid if I opened them the light would be much brighter and pierce through my skull like a knife. I slipped back into an unconscious state.

The numbness in my arms and legs drove me back up from oblivion. My head still throbbed dully. I took my time peeking through my eyelashes, careful not to aggravate the obnoxious ache more.

I blinked a couple of times, trying to remember what happened. My memory was fuzzy and took a moment to penetrate my cloudy mind. I laid on my side staring at what looked like a cave wall. Okay. I closed my eyes. I knew who I was, which was a good sign. I brought the images of Rose, Chase, Max, Bear, Tree, Killer, and the girls into my vision and tried to piece the puzzle together. My memory wasn’t totally gone, but my thoughts were too jumbled, and the throb in my head had slowly become a splitting headache.

I opened my eyes again. Why was I in a cave? How did I get here? If I figured that out everything should fall into place. I attempted to stretch out, my body wouldn’t budge. Great! Steadily, I lifted my head off the dirt and rock covered floor and twisted my neck, glancing behind me.

My hands were tied behind my back with a rope, attached in a knot to more rope, attached to my feet. I thought I’d go insane from the numbness. I commanded my hands to move, sending prickly sensations into my fingertips as I glanced around. The fire behind me kept me warm and as far as I could tell, I was alone.

I glanced back at the fire. The most damage I could do was burn my flesh. I debated on waiting until my hands had more movement in them. Not sure how much alone time I’d been given I gritted my teeth, rocked my body, forcing my knuckles into the ground, giving myself the momentum to flip over. I now faced the fire. Holding my breath, I clenched my teeth against the pain shooting through my limbs, and flipped again. I glanced over my shoulder and spied a medium size branch sticking out of the fire, smoldering. I measured the distance between the rope and the branch, then wiggled and pushed my way toward it with the side of my face and shoulder. The movement provided to be excruciatingly difficult.

I stopped. My breath a labored rush. Sweat soaked my face and shirt. The fire ignited a hot blaze on my wrists. I glanced back again, a tremor rocked me. I rested a half inch away from burning a chunk of flesh out of my hand. I needed to push myself up and back. My face stung and my energy was quickly draining. I laid there for a few minutes with tears in my eyes.

Focus Montana, you can do this, my small voice whispered. I blinked the tears away, pulled up as much of my reserves as possible, and shimmied over to the branch.

I touched the rope, holding my arms and legs taut, to the burning branch and felt it give. I jerked my legs down, breaking the rope. I glanced over my shoulder again, making sure I hadn’t set myself on fire. The tangled break glared back at me, blackened and scorched.

Massive waves of pain marched up my limbs as the numbness dissipated. What do I do now? I knew I should be scared, but  my tired brain wouldn’t allow the emotion to surface. Fear wasn’t an option anyway. I really needed a nap, but I needed to escape too. I almost wished I was scared, the emotion would give me the adrenaline kick I needed. I searched my mind again for the memories that were lost to me. It sure would be nice to know what I was up against, and why I was here.

First things first, I had to get my hands in front of me again. Then I could singe off the ropes around my wrists. I groaned, rolled onto my back, pulled my shoulders back, and brought my arms down. Lifting my hips, I looped my arms around and through my bent knees.

With my arms now in front of me I stretched, examined the rope around my wrists and frowned. The rope was tied so tight around my wrists my hands had a slight purple tint to them. I’d cause myself significant pain burning the rope off. The next best thing to do would be to untie the rope at my ankles, at least then I’d be able to walk.

I bent down to examine the rope better, thinking maybe if I could pull my boots off, the bindings would loosen enough to slide off. I yanked on one of my boots, something shifted against the side of my shin. I pressed my fingers hard against my leg, locating  the object. Excited, I tugged at the leg of my jeans until I managed to drag the material through the rope and over my boot.

I blinked my eyes. Blood rushed to my head, my ears buzzed, and my hands started shaking. A knife. I freed the blade from my boot and glanced around at my surroundings. The silence would have been eerie if not for the constant crackle and pop of the fire.

I started cutting away at the rope around my ankles. When the rope frayed enough I tugged off my boots, hoping to find more buried treasure. They were empty. I pushed them back on and stretched my weary legs.

Through trail, error, agony from my hands cramping, and only dropping the knife a few times, the rope around my wrists loosened. After getting my hands free I examined my wrists. I’d only sliced my flesh a few times, but not too deep. Actors in movies made cutting through rope look so much easier than it actually was.

I collected the rope, added it to my current stash in my jacket pocket, shook my arms, and moved my fingers and wrists to expel the numbness. The only thing that felt like it received the most damage was my head. Tenderly I touched the back of my skull just above my neck. My fingers ran across a swollen gash with dried blood covering it. I vaguely remembered being knocked unconscious, but couldn’t dredge up the full memory. Was the incident that traumatic or was it where I got hit? I convinced myself my memories would come back, eventually. Right now I needed to conjure up an escape plan.

Pies & Peril Blog Tour by Janel Gradowski

It is a pleasure to Introduce  Janel Gradowski and her new book Pies & Perils released on July 8th.

Amy shifted her basket so that it was directly in front of her, both hands on the leather handles, in battle position. Ahead of her a knot of people clustered around the booth selling miniature pies and tarts. A couple teen girls, dressed in black nylon smocks that signified they were enrolled in the downtown beauty college, scowled as Amy wriggled through the throng. She should’ve picked the small gap between two older gentlemen to squeeze through. Coming between women and sugar fixes was always a bad idea. People had poured out of the downtown businesses to find a meal at one of the many prepared food stands or food trucks set up around the perimeter of the park. The farmer’s market was one of her favorite parts of summer, but during peak hours the crowd was often so thick it felt like hand to hand combat as people jostled each other to select the perfect size of summer squash or the most beautiful wildflower bouquet. Being short didn’t help, especially on hot days, since she was pretty much at the armpit level of most normal-sized people. It felt and smelled like she was a sardine being packed in a tin. Ugh.

The crowd thinned a bit once she got past the pie-hungry mob. Ahead, the last booth she wanted to visit was surrounded by customers. Amy channeled her inner miniature basketball player and made a break for it. Her petite stature, for once, worked to her advantage as she darted around a couple women standing in the aisle having a conversation about removing stains from cloth diapers, and slipped into a crack in the human barricade. The vendor’s offerings were a sight to behold, like Mother Nature and the Easter Bunny had gotten together and made tomato babies. The table was filled with baskets full of heirloom tomatoes in a range of colors from acid green to chocolate brown. Some were as large as softballs while others truly looked like eggs. Amy had been making salads with the lovely tomatoes for over a month, but she’d had an idea while making the casseroles for Kevin earlier in the day. Tomato pie.

She chose a basket with a nice variety of medium-sized tomatoes and paid for them. Luckily she had brought a hard-sided wicker basket with her, to protect the delicate cargo from bony hips and giant zucchinis protruding from shopping bags like vegetal clubs. She tilted her head from side to side like a prize fighter before a match as she steeled herself for the last push through the mass of hungry humanity. There was only about 20 feet left in the vending area. Then she could break free and make a dash to her car. As she turned she caught a glimpse of Elliot Maxson’s unmistakable helmet-like black hair.

“Write what you know.” A common piece of advice for writers. I have to say, my stories would be pretty boring if I only wrote about things that I have experienced. I don’t lead a very exciting life. I’m a mom with a husband, two kids and a Golden Retriever. I live in a 1950’s ranch house in a rural area. Here in farm country, I can literally count watching crops grow as a form of entertainment. Well, slow-growing plants aren’t exactly entertaining, but sometimes the wild animals snacking on them are.

So I use my imagination a lot when I am writing. I prefer the saying, “Write what you would like to know.” Parts of me still creep into my stories, though. Amy Ridley, the main character in Pies & Peril shares a few characteristics and interests with me.

Amy is short and so am I. My 13 and 14-year old kids are both taller than I am and have been for several years. Being vertically challenged gives me a chance to give Amy a unique perspective. I have first hand experience in some of the problems she encounters that normal to above-average height people might never think of as a problem.

Amy loves jewelry. I write fiction now, but in a previous creative life (about 10 years ago) I designed beadwork patterns. I have drawers full of necklaces and bracelets that I have designed and made. While writing the book I think I had almost as much fun describing Amy’s jewelry as I did describing all of the food.

Amy is struggling to lose a bit of weight. Writing is a pretty sedentary career. Yes, plots can be worked out while walking the dog or sweating through an exercise video. The thing is, stories get written by sitting at a computer. I am seriously considering rigging up a treadmill desk, though I wonder how fast I’ll be able to type while walking and trying not to crash.

There are a few more things that Amy and I have in common. My friends and family can probably figure those out. Sharing interests and characteristics with my fictional characters is like a secret ingredient in a recipe. Knowing exactly how something feels or looks adds a nice pinch of clarity to draw the reader into my stories.

***

Janel Gradowski lives in a land that looks like a cold weather fashion accessory, the mitten-shaped state of Michigan. She is a wife and mom to two kids and one Golden Retriever. Her journey to becoming an author is littered with odd jobs like renting apartments to college students and programming commercials for an AM radio station. Somewhere along the way she also became a beadwork designer and teacher. She enjoys cooking recipes found in her formidable cookbook and culinary fiction collection. Searching for unique treasures at art fairs, flea markets and thrift stores is also a favorite pastime. Coffee is an essential part of her life. She writes the Culinary Competition Mystery Series, along with The Bartonville Series (women’s fiction) and the 6:1 Series (flash fiction). She has also had many short stories published in both online and print publications.

Website: http://www.janelgradowski.com

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/AuthorJanelGradowski

Twitter: https://twitter.com/JanelGr

Book purchase links: http://www.janelgradowski.com/culinary-competition-mysteries/1347-2/

Pies & Peril Giveaway

Enter Here

Blake-A Montana Dayton Novel Ch. 19

“I am so sorry,” I said to Max as I kissed him on the cheek, “this has to be taken care of now. I can’t live like this anymore.” I laid a blanket over him and rechecked his pulse before kissing him on the lips.

Next I tucked a blanket over Chase and rechecked his pulse.

“At least I know you’ll forgive me.” I kissed Chase on the cheek.

I rubbed Killers head and gave him a hug. “Take good care of them,” I whispered, “I’ll be back soon.” I glanced at Max and Chase. “They won’t even know I left tonight. I promise.”

I sighed as I stood in the living room for a moment watching them. Determinedly I collected the coffee cups and washed them out. I grabbed a butcher knife, stuck it in my boot, and swung my backpack over my shoulder.

This is stupid crazy my brain screamed at me. Who do you think you are, Wonder Woman? Yes, I screamed back I am Wonder Woman with Spidey senses. I lit a smoke and closed my eyes for a second. With resolve I yanked on my jacket, looked back over at Max and Chase, pulled out my gun, checked the chamber for bullets, and flipped the safety off before stepping out onto the deck. Cold dark air wrapped around me, a moment of dread overcame me. I shrugged it off, pointed my gun at the darkness, let down my barriers, and attempted to pinpoint my nemesis. I stood there for a moment, picturing what Wonder Woman would do and decided it didn’t matter much since my Spidey sense wasn’t going off. Did this thing have an early bedtime or what?

Exhaling, I crept off the deck, gun still pointed at the blackness of the night. I pulled the flashlight out of my pocket, turned it on and aimed it toward the ground, sweeping it back and forth, so I wouldn’t trip over anything. I wandered around my property, avoiding the tree line, attempting to draw him out. Nothing. I walked a full circle and ended back at Rose’s house where I climbed the deck and sat down.

I lit another smoke and glanced up at the bright twinkling stars. It was so cold out the stars shimmered. A star shot over the horizon, then another one, a small meteor shower lit up the inky blackness. The show was spectacular, and calmed my wrecked nerves.

I debated on whether or not I should saddle up Lightning and head up to the caves. I promised Killer I would be back before Max and Chase woke up, but this was most likely the only chance I would have to take care of this my way. I didn’t think I’d be able to stand not having my freedom for however long it took Max to hunt down and catch this thing. Lightning would get me up to the caves quicker than walking, but as dark as it was I wasn’t sure how her footing would be. I blew out a breath. I should have read up on horses, I really didn’t know much about them.

When the meteor shower ended I stood up and stretched. I still didn’t sense the psycho-creature. I had hoped to end this here on my property, close to my house, but it didn’t look like that was going to happen.

I suppressed an icy shiver that crawled up my back. I had to do this for me. I would hike up there; the exercise would keep me warm. If I made good time and there was nothing to be found then I would make it back home with no-one the wiser. I straightened my shoulders, steadied my nerves, tightened my backpack, and set off at a good pace. Had I known what I was about to encounter I probably would have stayed home.

I’d studied the map and felt good about this journey and positive I wouldn’t get lost. I stopped at the tree line, my adrenalin pumping. My Spidey sense still wasn’t picking up anything so I took a deep breath and stepped into the forest. A whisper of a chill lightly caressed my neck when I found myself at the bridge separating my property from Max’s. Hopefully his wolves didn’t leave his land.

I hiked through the woods, thinking about Max, and began to feel somewhat at ease when my Spidey senses rang the alarm. Pushing aside all thoughts of Max, and his wolves, I concentrated on the motility. My hyper awareness registered a small blip at first, within seconds the blip shot off the radar. Shit! He was coming up on me fast, right in front of me. What the hell was this thing? I turned off my flashlight, focused all of my thoughts onto him and raised my gun, aiming it into the blackness.

Should I stand my ground or should I run? I wasn’t very far from the meadow; if I could draw him out there then I could shoot him and be done with it. The tree tops blanketed the stars, blackness ebbed out of the forest, and too many trees grew around me. I doubted I could hit my target where I stood. I slowly backed up, hoping I wouldn’t trip over anything, or run into a tree. As soon as I sensed he was close enough I turned around and bolted through the shadows towards the meadow. He was right behind me and to the left when he yanked my backpack. I dropped my arms letting the backpack slide off my back, cornered to the right, and dived into some oak bushes, squatting down low.

Damn, he was too fast. I still hadn’t seen what I was fighting. Was this thing invisible or what? I took some short deep breaths to calm the panic rising through me. How could I fight something I couldn’t even see? I groaned under my breath, to top it off it was starting to snow. I cringed as the branches of the oaks began to rustle. He was right on top of me. Double damn! I needed to stand my ground here. I scooted back into the brush further and raised my gun.

Introducing–>> Ryan Gladney

 

As this weeks Featured Author

 

 

Ryan Gladney is the author of Nine Lives of Adam Blake, a contemporary novel set in Minnesota that combines elements of speculative fiction, urban fantasy, philosophical fiction, coming-of-age, and literary fiction. It was released in February 2014.

Ryan was born in St. Louis, and has lived in Boston, Orange Country, Ann Arbor, Los Angeles, and Minnesota. He attended college at the University of Michigan. When not writing (or working), Ryan spends most of his time with his wife, son, and cats. He’s an active book-clubber, kickballer, bike-rider, brunch-eater, and live music aficionado. He lives in Minneapolis, Minnesota.

url https://www.goodreads.com/ryandgladney

website http://ryandgladney.com/

twitter username GlyanRadney

genre Fiction, Contemporary, Science Fiction

 

Adam Blake knows what fate awaits him after death. He has died before, and will die again, and always it’s the same. For Adam, there is no heaven, no hell, no reincarnation, or cold, final sleep. When he dies, his life flashes before his eyes; it rushes backward—nothing skipped or overlooked—until it stops, suddenly, at age twelve, one week after he had mysteriously disappeared in the woods behind his childhood home. Then, he wakes up.

Adam is cursed—or blessed—to relive the same life again and again, from this moment onward, regardless of how he lives, who he becomes, or what ultimately causes next his demise. He is free to right past wrongs, avoid past mistakes, pursue any interest and chase any dream. But the longer Adam lives, the less anything matters but answers. He must know: Why is he stuck in this loop? What is its cause? How will it end? And what awaits him on the other side of death when it finally does?

Very Inspiring Blogger Award

 

Thank You  Double Decker Books  for nominating me for the Very Inspiring Blogger Award.
 This is Awesome and a great opportunity to meet more authors and readers!
 

 
Rules:

Thank and link the amazing person who nominated you.


List the rules and display the award.


Share seven facts about yourself.


Nominate fifteen other amazing blogs and remember to comment on their blogs to let them know you’ve nominated them (provide a link to your post).


This rule is optional – you can proudly display the award logo anywhere on your blog (e.g. on your sidebar) and also follow the blogger that nominated you.

1.  I can not live without coffee in the morning

2. American Horror Story-The Coven is the best season yet

3. Under the Dome by Steven King is my favorite program on TV

4. Most of my clothes are black

5. My tongue is pierced

6. I drink about 10 glasses of water a day

7. Essential oils are my thing

 

Nominations:

Mimi Barbour
The Masquerade Crew 
Laurie’s Thoughts and Reviews
Majk Ink
Gina Valley
Writing Whims
Writers in the Storm
Tumbleweed’s World
Cabin Goddess
Finding Our Way Now
Unwrapping Romance
Live to Write – Write to Live
Venture Galleries
Jacquie Rogers
Lyle S Tanner 

Blake-A Montana Dayton Novel Ch. 18:2

After breakfast I wandered outside with Max and Killer.

“It’s too bad we can’t finish where we left off.” Max leaned into me, brushing his hand though my hair.

“It is too bad.” I stepped back, bracing myself against the hate filled air sizzling around me. That thing was out there watching us. I held back the urge to giggle, surprised I hadn’t had mental breakdown by now. It took all of my strength ignoring the psycho. I was ready to explode. I had to refrain from clenching my fists and screaming bloody murder.

I turned my thoughts to Max. It was interesting he couldn’t sense the psycho, being a tracker, but I had to give him credit, his moves were light and swift. I didn’t doubt he’d be able to track just about anything. If my senses weren’t as acute as they were he would probably get a kick out of sneaking up on me. My problem was impatience. I couldn’t wait any longer for him to track the thing down.

“Anything?”

I unclenched my jaw. “No.”

I watched his steel gray eyes take in our surroundings before coming back to settle on me. His expression had become guarded as his gaze landed on my face, searching it for any signs I might be lying. I composed myself the best I could, put on my best poker face, and hoped he wouldn’t read me. He was indecisive.

“The girls will be leaving soon and so will I. Chase will stay with you again. This time keep your cell phone charged and on you at all times.”

“When do you plan on leaving?”

“Depending on the weather I’ll leave in the morning.”

“We’ll be getting more snow.”

“Doesn’t matter,” he searched the area again. “We haven’t had this much snow in years. I hope to use it to my advantage.”

“I think he’s done.” I pointed my finger in Killers direction. I didn’t want to think about Max leaving. Then I reminded myself I didn’t want to think about him at all.

The change in the air as we wandered back inside was much better. Trina and Alexis were still charged with excitement, but the anger radiating from the creature loosened in intenseness.

“The kitchen is now spotless.” Trina said as they both embraced me in a huge hug, picking me up off the floor. “We are out of here. Thank you for everything.”

I looked at Chase and Max and mouthed help.

“What about me?” Chase asked, with his best pouty face.

The girls dropped me and ran to Chase, giving him a hug and more than a few kisses on his cheeks and neck. When they finally let go of Chase they kissed and hugged Killer before glancing at Max.

“It was so nice to meet you,” Trina said. She stood there debating for a moment. She gave him a quick hug, Alexis followed her lead.

Chase walked them out to their car. I laughed, gave Max a quick hug, mimicking the girls. “You shouldn’t be so intimidating.” I batted my eyes, laughing harder.

Max chuckled at my antics. “I’m going to have Chase stay tonight.”

My smile faded, and now there were two.

“I’m going to go take a nice long leisurely bath.”

 

I stepped out of the tub, rummaged through my medicine cabinet until I found what I was looking for, slowly got dressed, and applied some makeup. After rechecking my backpack I grabbed a book and descended the stairs in search for a bottle of water and coffee.

“I didn’t think you were going to grace us with your presence this afternoon. You’ve been upstairs for quite some time.” Max said, cornering me by the coffee pot.

“This is my house.”

“We need to talk.”

“If you want to divulge any of your secrets I’m all ears.”

“You know I can’t tell you what’s classified. I want to talk about this thing between us.”

I held up my hand, interrupting him. “There can’t be anything between us, not now and maybe not ever. Now move.” I pushed through him, leaving him gaping after me, and settled myself in my favorite chair in front of the fire. I really needed to get him out of my system.

Chase kicked back on the couch with his eyes closed, feigning sleep. Max frowned at me, pulled out his laptop, and pretended to work, his thoughts conflicted. I was tired of picking up on other peoples thoughts. Was this “gift” manifesting into something more? Would I be able to read people’s minds soon?

This had to end tonight. I lit a smoke and opening my book. I hurt Max with my comment, I didn’t mean too, but the attraction was just too strong and physically exhausting. Add to that the mental exhaustion and I’d probably be able to sleep for a year.

My plans would be better for all of us, and I would have my house to myself again. I debated on telling Max what I knew, then dismissed it. He was way too big of a distraction to have around. I tried to concentrate on the words in my book, but couldn’t, so I put it down and closed my eyes for a cat nap.

Presenting Bootie and the Beast Book Tour

Relationships.

They’re tough business. Man-woman relationships, parent-child attachments or simple sibling rivalry, as important and wonderful each of those bonds are to a joyful life, the fact is that they can also be the trigger to our greatest pain—as Krish and Diya, the hero and heroine of my novel, will have the pleasure-pain of experiencing.

There’s another kind of relationship I’ve highlighted in the story—one of the best kinds that exist in the world, IMHO—the bond between BFFs. It’s a bond more delightful than fraught and if done right and smart, one that a woman will never regret. Well, that can be said for any relationship but lets focus on BFFs for this post.

So, Diya and Alisha are literally crib companions. Born only six months apart, they have been neighbors, classmates, partners in pranks and one another’s Voice of Wisdom for all their lives. They are the definition of Sister From Another Mother to each other. I have loved creating and cultivating Dee and Lee-sha’s bestieship in both my novels. They’ve made me laugh. They’ve made me cry. But most of all, they make me value my own bestieships.

Fairytales don’t end with True Love’s Kiss, they begin with one…

Diya Mathur (aka Beauty), celebrated supermodel and Party Princess of India, is adored by everyone. She works hard, plays hard, and has the biggest shoe fetish on the planet. But after she purchases one baby bootie, Diya’s reputation is in ruins. There’s only one place to escape the rumours – Texas, under the protection of her lifelong friend, and secret love, Krish Menon (aka the Beast).

Financial whizz-kid, CFO and entrepreneur, Krish is a brooding workaholic with a charisma that still brings Beauty Mathur to her knees. He has no idea, of course! They’ve shared a bond since childhood – a special friendship that thrives on sparring, teasing and goading – but with Diya back in his life and under his roof, Krish’s latent desire for her explodes. And when he finally admits to the secret that has never allowed him to commit to any woman – especially Diya – everything changes. Krish might finally realise how much he wants his Beauty. But he won’t get her until Diya has tamed her Beast.

Excerpt from Bootie and the Beast:

Desperate for a pep talk and/or a shoulder to cry on, Diya called her BFF. It took several tries for the Wi-Fi to connect via video chat. As it was ten-thirty on a working Friday morning in Mumbai, Lee-sha’s sleepy face and disheveled mass of hair stunned Diya.

“Are you still sleeping?” She blinked at her big-eyed best friend framed inside the tablet.

Lee-sha scowled. Krish and his sister had their scowls and growls down pat—more eccentricities of the distinguished, un-fun-loving Menon gene pool. “Do I look asleep? Would I answer your call if I were? As you can see, I’m sitting…lounging about.”

“In bed?” Diya raised an eyebrow.

“Yes, in bed. Do you have a problem with it?” Lee-sha raised two eyebrows.

“Yes! What is going on with you Menons? Is it the Apocalypse? It must be…it has to be the world ending for you and Krish to both take a day off and…and…and…” Diya threw her hands in the air. “Do nothing!”

“I don’t know about Krish, but I’ve spent V-Day being very productive, if you know what I mean,” said Lee-sha.

The smug tone and wicked expression finally rang a bell in Diya’s jet-lagged brain. She forgot her jealousy over the phantom Aya. Even overlooked the humbling fact that her unromantic best friend had someone to celebrate V-Day with but not her.

“Ooh!” Diya smiled lewdly. “Did you try the moves I told you about? The ones that guarantee a baby boy?” She crossed her fingers the bootie charm was working its magic for her friend—fortified by the positions they’d previously discussed.

“Puh-lease,” scoffed Lee-sha, making a great production of buffing her nails on what looked like Aryan’s shirt. “I invented my own amazing moves guaranteeing a baby girl.”

Diya snorted. The noise at once put Krish back in her head. The image metamorphosed into images of Krish and a lap dancing siren named Aya, performing sexy V-Day moves. OMJeez! This much mental stimulation with nowhere to spew could not be good.

“Hey! Did you know the Beast has no lair?” she asked, grasping at random, inconsequential straws.

“No,” said Lee-sha, looking puzzled. “What do you mean? Where are you staying?”

Diya rubbed her hands together and updated Lee-sha on all that had transpired that day, including her suspicions of a sinister UFO abduction and Alien Krish. By the end of it, they were both howling and hiccupping in laughter. The cat, thoroughly miffed at the ballyhoo disturbing her nap, jumped off the bed and strutted off to a corner with its tail in the air, triggering more hilarity in Diya.

Lee-sha’s humor came under control first. Her eyes moved off-screen and just lit up with what Diya labeled the Love-lust Look. Aryan was in the bedroom, deduced Diya, feeling happier than happy for her friend’s happily-ever-after and morose for her lack of one.

Amazon UK:

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Bootie-Beast-Indian-Author-Collection-ebook/dp/B00KM0ZQ4S/ref=pd_rhf_eebr_p_t_1_RZEY

Amazon India:

http://www.amazon.in/Bootie-Beast-Falguni-Kothari/dp/9351065065/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1398098298&sr=1-2

Mills and Boon:

http://www.millsandboon.co.uk/bootie-and-the-beast

Harlequin India:

http://www.hqnindia.com/series/indianauthor

Flipkart:

http://www.flipkart.com/bootie-and-the-beast/p/itmdv3drqmxjgqsk?pid=9789351065067&otracker=from-

search&srno=t_1&query=bootie+and+the+beast&ref=9e18052b-a541-42a8-b58e-3eff2b9a7ade

Book links for It’s Your Move, Wordfreak:

http://falgunikothari.com/wordfreak-its-your-move.php

Bio for Book R3vi3w Tours:

Falguni Kothari is a non-traditional homemaker who accidently tripped on a misplaced soccer ball and fell down the writer’s rabbit hole. Having no more experience with the whole writing/publishing shebang than being a voracious reader and movie buff, it more than surprised her that she could, in fact, write a full-length novel.

Now, several manuscripts down, when she is not trying to find a way out of her many domestic duties or cajoling her Latin dance coach to compose a rumba on Bollywood music, she is found embroiled in some or other scandal—sorry, creating stories—on her ever-faithful laptop.

She’s authored Bootie and the Beast, It’s Your Move, Wordfreak! and Scrabbulous Impressions, a short story. She rumbas across a whole smorgasbord of Social Media daily and loves to connect with most living things.

Website: www.falgunikothari.com

Twitter: @F2tweet https://twitter.com/F2tweet

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Blog: http://falgunikothari.blogspot.com

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Blake-A Montana Dayton Novel Ch. 18

I snuggled in bed, listening to Max’s even breathing, guilt assailed me. Reminding myself that everything would work out for the best this way I forced myself to go over the information I’d learned in my searches, instead of feeling guilty. I hoped some of the information I found was correct. If I was wrong about any of it I would be screwed. I turned the knowledge over in my head several  times and pictured some of the scenarios that might happen. I wanted to be prepared for just about anything and everything when I went out tonight. I crawled out of bed and turned on the shower. It was still early, but I needed to start mentally preparing myself for our company now.

I let the hot water pour over me for what seemed like an eternity. Refreshed from the shower, I quickly got dressed and applied some makeup before heading downstairs for coffee and a smoke. Killer and I stood outside, enjoying the morning sun, when Max joined us with an annoyed look on his face.

“You shouldn’t be out here alone. I thought we went over that,” he grumbled.

I smiled without answering. I was tired of not having the freedom to wander as I pleased, of having to be protected every second of the day.

Max stepped up to me and cupped my chin. “I love it when you smile,” he kissed my forehead, eyes, cheeks, and chin, before kissing me softly on the lips. Watching for my reaction he drew me closer, deepening the kiss. I intertwined my fingers through his hair, pulled him closer, and kissed him back with every ounce of passion I had. I suddenly needed him to know how I felt about him, without saying the words. This might be the last time we would be this close.

“We hate to interrupt.” I vaguely heard Alexis say. The gang climbed up the steps onto the deck. “But we need to get out of dodge soon. The next storm is supposed to come in later tonight.”

Killer’s tail thumped against the back of my legs with excitement at seeing Chase and the girls. I dropped my arms down to my sides and grudgingly stepped out of Max’s embrace, sidestepping Killer at the same time. It was probably better this way anyhow, my blood sizzled like red hot lava from the kiss. I would have melted onto the deck in another minute or so.

Chase, Alexis, and Trina grinned wide. I wanted them to disappear for a few more minutes. Max picked up on my animosity and quickly ushered the girls inside, leaving Chase and I alone.

“Does this mean it’s worn off?” Chase asked.

“No!” I barked as an all consuming hate filled me. I massaged my temples, attempting to shake off the emotion and the fire that was still raging through my veins. I contemplated my surroundings. The hate filled emotion didn’t come from me. Was the creature back? I didn’t get the chance to probe for him. Chase yanked me toward the back door, through it, and up the stairs to my bedroom.

“Come on Montana. We’re going to work this out. Do you know what Max’s plans are? Or if he’s gotten any more information on the situation?”

“No, and no, but we need to make ourselves present downstairs.” Not. “I wouldn’t want the girls to think I’m playing both you and Max.” I replied sarcastically.

Chase laughed, “I explained to the girls that we kind of adopted each other as a family, they believe me.”

We sat on the bed for a few minutes while I collected myself. When I was ready we wandered downstairs to join the others. I gazed at Max as he started a fire, plastered a smile on my face, and tried to forget about him. My emotions seemed to be in a constant tug of war when it came to him. The anger I felt outside was finally dissipating, helping me to gain control over my scattered energy.

As soon as this was over I was planning on leaving. I wasn’t sure where to yet, but it was definitely going to be someplace warm and far away.

“I’m going to go try my hand at the espresso machine again. Want some?” Chase asked.

Both Max and I nodded our heads. As Chase left the room Max tugged me to him, burying his face in my hair. I held onto him for a long heartbeat. Finally, I backed out of his arms before I passed out from heat overdose.

“Latte is served, and Alexis and Trina are going to attempt to make Huevos Rancheros. They‘ve become addicted to green chili.”

Introducing–>>T.L. Clark

 

As this weeks Featured Author

I’m a self-published author (on Amazon only at the moment). I’m 30something and was born and raised in the UK. I have a lovely and supportive husband and an irritating but much spoiled & loved cat.

I have a mundane 9-5 job, but fit my writing in around that and practising holistic therapies.

Each of my books is completely separate from the other, so you don’t have to read them in any particular order. I’ve tried to look at love from different angles.

Youngs Love – was the first book I wrote. It features Samantha striving for independence. As she breaks away from her controlling marriage she explores the world of dating with varying results. There’s a trip to Tuscany and lots of slushy bits as well as some raunchy scenes. Look out for the extra strong mints!

Trues Love – follows feisty Amanda who loves her free & single world filled with nights of passion with different men. She goes to Ibiza with a girly friend and runs into a blonde Adonis of a bodyguard. Is this true love or a holiday romance? It’s certainly not short on action.

Dark Love – I wrote this by popular demand. It’s the BDSM one! Male Submissive Jonathan is guided by Mistress Eisengrau through a world of dungeons and a journey of self exploration.

I hope you enjoy reading my books. If you do, please please leave a review. I truly appreciate every single review.

twitter username TLClarkAuthor

genre Romance, Fiction

 

In this book we find promiscuous Amanda living the highlife; meek admin worker by day and wild clubber by night. We get to hear about a selection of her erotic night time adventures.

But she is surprised by love when she goes on holiday with her friend to Ibiza. The blonde bodyguard soon has her lowering her barriers. He shows her how much more there is to sex when the heart is truly engaged. But will this just be a holiday romance, will it lead to a long term relationship or will it end in tragedy? Join Amanda on her quest of exploration.

 

 

 

 

 

This book delves into the dark realm of Mistress Eigengrau, and the love that exists between this female Dom and her male Sub. This is not a book for the faint-hearted or under-18s as it contains graphic sexually explicit scenes, so strap on tight for a rough ride!

Jonathan (our gorgeous hero of a Submissive) has his attention diverted by another but it leaves him conflicted and confused. Can he turn away from the only kind of love he has ever known to explore new avenues? Or is it just a passing fancy; a light shone on a new world that ultimately has no longevity? Jonathan’s life is certainly about to get a lot more challenging.

TL Clark is a self-published British author. This is the third book in the quest to look at different forms of love. Each book is individual so can be read in any order you choose. But your reviews really do count, so once you’ve read this book please do leave a review. You can also follow the author on Twitter TLClarkAuthor.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Samantha is a downtrodden thirty-something living in the UK. Her life is controlled by others, particularly her overbearing husband. This is the story of her voyage to independence, and a trip to Tuscany.

Her ensuing flings are not overly successful, but each experience teaches her something new about herself. One of her dates seems to have a tortured past too; perhaps he can help heal her wounds?

Will she ever find true love? Well, at least she can discover a new found joy of sex.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Rekindled Love is available to download on Amazon.

It is the story of Sophie’s life.

I wanted to reflect how sex can improve with age, as so many romance novels concentrate on the 20 or 30 somethings.

We join Sophie with her first love, and go through her whole life; hatches, matches and dispatches.

Hers is a road not easily travelled, and I know she’d appreciate you holding her hand as she goes through it all.

I really hope you enjoy this novel.

Each of my books take a different view of love, so feel free to browse and find a theme which you are drawn to.

 

Hi Good Readers,