Melissa Snark's Blog: The Snarkology, page 12

The Seventh Princess by Matt Larkin #Fantasy

In every generation a Princess is born to each island of Sawaiki, blessed with the power to control a single aspect of the natural world. Namaka’s power is arguably the most valuable of them all–in a world of archipelagos and endless ocean, she control the seas themselves.

The mer people of the Worldsea despise her for this power over their domain, all the more so because she can barely control her own gifts. At war amongst themselves, they harness this uncontrolled power by possessing Namaka with a mermaid spirit–turning her into one of them. As Namaka struggles to accept this new existence, she’s faced with conflict above the waves and war below. And if she cannot control her powers, both her worlds face annihilation.

 

The Seventh Princess

by Matt Larkin

Series

The Worldsea Era #1

Genre

Fantasy

Publisher

Incandescent Phoenix Books

Publication Date

March 21, 2016

 

Worlds at War…A Heart in Conflict. Kira’s Story continues. #romance #newadult #TheRealmSeries http://bit.ly/rebelmiller

Promising: Book Two of Kira’s Story

PROMISING, the riveting follow-up to AWAKENING by Rebel Miller.

Faced with diverging loyalties — between those she loves and her responsibility to the Realm — Kira has to make heartrending and strategic decisions that threaten to jeopardize her future.

As her connection to Tai deepens and turmoil in the Realm builds, so does Gannon’s frustration at being unable to call Kira his own.

 

Worlds at War … A Heart in Conflict

While the Realm stands defiant amidst rising unrest, Kira is thrust into a role that puts her at the forefront of her system’s governance and law, supporting a landmark position. Following a devastating turn of events, she turns to Tai for a shoulder to lean on after making a painful choice to ensure Gannon fulfils the role he was meant for.

 

As she becomes a reluctant – yet inspiring – voice for her caste, Kira learns about one of the Realm’s most well-kept secrets and how far leadership will go to prevent it from being revealed. What she doesn’t know is how much the decisions of her past have the power to bring enemies into her path, threatening to destroy everyone she holds close to her heart.

This novel is for mature audiences (18+) and includes committed relationships with multiple partners.

 

Available Now

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Giveaway

Enter to win an eBook version of Promising: Book Two of Kira’s Story, a Rebel Miller Books tote and magnet, and a signed poster.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

Tweets

Worlds at War…A Heart in Conflict. Kira’s Story continues. #romance #newadult #TheRealmSeries http://bit.ly/rebelmiller

The Hunger Games meets the Crossfire Series in Promising. #romance #newadult #TheRealmSeries http://bit.ly/rebelmiller

 

 

Excerpt

“How is it that with all our system’s technology I can’t make love to you from thousands of light years away?”

I snorted, but my lips tilted up at the corners nevertheless. “I’m sure the Protectorate has some sort of virtual reality device that could be refashioned just for that purpose,” I offered, rearranging the wool blanket on my lap.

I was curled up in bed, facing my monitor and resting against a pile of pillows. It had become a familiar position over the last few weeks, one from which I would relay the day’s activities during my nightly call with Gannon. Well, it was a nightly call for me. The sun had already risen where Gannon lived, on Dignitas One.

Suddenly, Gannon seemed to be deep in concentration. “No, on second thought, there’s no technology that could ever measure up to the real thing.” He grinned.

I smiled, heat rising to my cheeks.

“There’s the smile I was looking for,” Gannon said, leaning closer to his monitor, and so closer to me.

He was sitting in his office. He had been holding our calls from there more frequently over the last month. From what I could see, his office was a large, well-lit space. A wall of floor-to-ceiling glass ran its expanse directly behind him. Through it, I could see citizens of every caste striding by in obvious haste to get things done, more than likely at Gannon’s bidding. During these nighttime conversations with Gannon, and within the intimate surroundings of my bedroom, it was easy to forget who he was and his status. As chancellor, he surely had, every day, a checklist as long as my arm, filled with tasks.

I frowned as I noted the time. “I should let you go,” I said, sitting up.

“Why?”

I glanced pointedly behind him, fiddling with the thin strap of my top. “Your office looks incredibly busy.”

He blinked then swiveled in his chair to look at the steady stream of people behind him.

“Oh, my support always look like that,” he said, mischief glittering in his clear blue eyes as he turned back to me. “They think it’ll prevent me asking them to do anything else.” He winked, and I laughed, loving his cheekiness.

If his office was anything like the Judiciary on Prospect Eight, where I worked, there would have been, since Septima, a heightened state of activity and an added fervor underscoring every project. The Corona had wasted no time gaining approval from Realm Council to initiate an investigation that would seek out who was responsible for the attack. In her own words, it was an act of war against law-abiding citizens that would not go without justice.

A shiver rippled through me as I recalled her remark.

“Gannon,” I said so sharply that he became somber at once, “promise me you won’t monitor my family anymore.”

He narrowed his eyes. “Why would I do that?”

I swallowed. “Uncle Paol made his decision, but my cousin, she’s safe with my parents,” I said. “He’ll need to answer for his own choices.”

“I would rather be aware of what your uncle’s up to,” he said. “If he’s still aligned with the factions, then, depending on what he does, you or your family could be in danger.”

I was shaking my head before he finished speaking. “It would be best for Adria and my family if we just let things lie,” I said.

Gannon scowled. “That’s not something I normally do, Kira,” he said. “Things have a way of coming back up to haunt people.”

I leaned toward him, clenching my fists. “Please.”

Gannon must have seen something in my expression because he nodded, though with a great amount of obvious reluctance.

He ran a hand through his hair, disheveling the blond locks, as he lowered his gaze to his desk. “How’d it go today?” he asked.

I thought for a moment then ended up with “Good.” It was odd to describe a farewell as such, but there was truly no other way to describe it. I sighed. “A lot of people came by.”

He glanced up from under his lashes. “Was Tai there?”

I hesitated then nodded.

Gannon lowered his gaze again, this time to his hands, which were now clasped tightly in front of him on his clear glass desktop. “And how is the newly appointed commander of Prospect Council?” he asked, still looking at some point around his wrists.

I blinked. “He … seems fine.”

Gannon nodded, still not looking at me.

I studied the crown of his head with a frown. “When will you be back on Prospect?” I asked, hoping to change his mood.

Finally he glanced up, with apology clear in his eyes. “I was hoping to be there in the next few days,” he said, cringing, “but my father just asked me to lead discussions on Hale Three. Since their minister’s murder on Septima ¾”

My pulse spiked. “Where on Hale Three?”

Gannon drew back, frowning, no doubt at my sharp tone. “A town called Tork.”

I shot up to my knees, gripping the blanket on my lap. “Don’t go.”

Worry flickered across his face. “Kira, what’s wrong?”

I licked my lips. “The factions,” I said. “They’re using Tork as a command center. You could get hurt.” Or worse. Oh gods.

Gannon’s shoulders dipped as he frowned. “Lahra,” he began, and I melted a little at the endearment. “There’s violence everywhere. I’ll be well protected.”

That wasn’t enough. “Can’t someone else go instead?”

He shook his head, regret clouding his eyes. “It’s not that sim¾”

“Please,” I said, holding back a swell of fear. “I can’t have what happened to my aunt happen to you.”

 

About Rebel Miller

Rebel Miller is an author who overindulges in Pinot Grigio, caramel popcorn and an eclectic mix of movies, music and angst-filled romance novels.

Rebel earned a graduate degree in Communications and Culture from Ryerson University and an undergraduate degree from the University of the West Indies.

Rebel lives in the outskirts of Toronto, Canada with her husband and two sons.

 

Connect with Rebel

Website: http://rebelmillerbooks.com/

Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/rebel.miller/

Twitter: https://twitter.com/rebelmillerboox

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

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/14128107.Rebel_Miller

Wolf Pack Private Fr-ee-bie Fest! Mar 16 – 18 2016

 

The Wolf Pack authors have put together ANOTHER bunch of *NEW* FR-EE reads… just for you!


This is a SPECIAL freebie fest. NONE of these books can be found at retailers. They are only available for direct download and only for a few days. AND several of the books contain extra giveaways at the end–so be sure to open the books ASAP before the giveaways end!

WHY? Because we are the authors of the Wolf Pack and we LOVE to make readers howl!

Click here to be taken to the Freebie Fest Landing Page

How to Write a Best-Selling #Shifter #Romance Novel by your devoted authors at @WolfPackReads #humor

30 Tips for how to get rich quick by writing shifter romance from best-selling Wolf Pack authors

No sex, ever in a shifter romance
Happily Ever After? Totally optional.
Readers love infidelity.
The hero should hit the heroine at least once.
The hero should have really gross manners. Heroines love to fix their man.
The hero should tell the heroine she’s fat. And put her on a diet as a sign of his devotion.
The hero should pick his nose
The hero should shout, “She’s mine! All mine!” Every third page.
Having a naked male chest on your cover does NOT sell books.
Instead, the cover should feature a moon and flowers.
Romance readers love the word “cunt”.
…and “dick”.
It’s a “bunghole”, not “anal”.
All heroines should be super needy. Their only mission in life is to get a man.
Strong women are NOT attractive.
A heroine should be whiny, useless, and dependent.
Pathetic is preferable.
Take your sweet time getting to the story.
Describe every little gasp and fart in precise detail.



“Dick” is out of fashion.
But “pantaloon python” is okay.
The hero must rant all directives…
…and throw things when he’s angry.
He’s always angry.
A real Alpha shares his lady with everyone.
In fact, he recommends it.
And rents her out by the hour.
Bestiality is totally acceptable. They should go at it AS bunnies.

And finally…

Incest sells best. Be sure to use “Daddy” and “Daughter” in the title.

A Fun BBW Roller Derby #Romance

After being dumped by her live-in boyfriend for a blonde stick insect and a job in Wellington, Hayley is tricked into trying out for the local roller derby team—the Selby Slammers. At the tryouts, hilarity ensues when she leaves her mark on not only the rink, but some of the hunky men from the inline hockey team who practice on the next rink over.

Meanwhile, Hayley attempts to pick up what’s left of her (love) life but is thwarted at every turn by three men: 1) the surprise return of her ex, 2) Jake, the hunky hockey player, and 3) continually running into Rick the ‘Dick’ who may or may not have a crazy underwear fetish!

All three seem to be conspiring against her, taking turns causing unexpected problems in her new and very hectic (love) life.

“Adam, I’m gonna kill you. Right after I’ve finished eating these pancakes—ooh maple-flavoured syrup and berry compote. But after that I’ll kill you! And then, I’ll find a time machine and kick my own butt, cause damn, am I stupid or what? Nobody answer that!”

— Hayley

Note: This story is set in New Zealand and is therefore written in New Zealand English.

Skid Marks and the Selby Slammers is the full length novelised version of the first four installments in the Skid Marks serial.

Available on Amazon

 

 

Rock star, catwalk model, ventriloquist–April Ryder is none of these things. She is, however, a BBW housewife looking to spice up her life with her hardworking and supportive BBM (is that even a thing?) husband. April enjoys living on the beach and plans to further explore her sexy, sensual side writing romance.

 

Website: http://aprilryder.com

Cassandra by J.M. Anton @Goddessfish #Contemporary #RomanticSuspense

Cassandra Hoffman orphaned at the age of five was raised by her maternal grandmother. Two decades pass when she is confronted with a letter from her father’s Denver based attorney. She’s shocked to learn that her dad lived through the car crash that took her mother and brothers in 1985.

Casey’s haunted nights begin with the death of her father. Who is the shadow man in her dreams? Could it be her dad whom she had believed dead? She discovers he had another family, and some dark secrets Casey sets out to solve the mysteries of her abandonment, and find the answers to the nightshades that threaten her sanity.

Our heroine runs afoul of a previously unknown nemesis as she searches for answers, but she also finds the love of her life. He too abandons her, as he struggles with physical and mental wounds from multiple tours in the Middle East. Can Casey forgive him as they confront a mutual enemy?

 

Book Buy Links:

Smashwords:

Janton’s Square Market

IAN

 

Available in Paperback

 

Excerpt:

Rush hour in Denver was every bit as aggravating as rush hour in Cleveland. It was a frustrating fact of life everywhere that people needed to commute to a central work place. Traffic was at a standstill.

She overheard Ken call ahead to apprise Mr. Jackson, “We’re tied up in traffic, and will arrive later than anticipated.”

It sounded as if he were talking to someone other than Bob. Casey hoped the message would be relayed to him. As the thought flitted through her mind she gazed out at the passing cars and trucks also crawling along. Except for occasional glimpses of the majestic mountains, they could be stuck in traffic anywhere. The interstates were all the same and fairly uninteresting, especially within city limits. Casey found her mind wandering back to dinner the previous evening and her very brief encounter with Captain JD Gannon. She wondered where he was this morning. He’d been on his way to the airport when he left them, but that was all she knew. Well… not quite all—she knew that she could reach him through Bob Jackson, but she wasn’t sure she liked the feeling that he knew more of what was going on than she did. She couldn’t shake the idea that she should somehow remember him.

Finally, they reached their destination. Her nerves were already raw when she entered the elevator. As the doors began to close, a teenage boy thrust his arm through the gap, and they sprang back open. Casey watched him with a good deal of suspicion when he leaned against the frame of the elevator opening to keep the doors from closing. He grinned at her as he crossed his arms over his chest and turned his attention toward the lobby. Three stunning women entered the elevator.

Great, she thought, I’m trapped in an alien transport on my way to an alternate universe where all the women are tall, blonde, and have baby blues. Or maybe, I’ve been cast in one of those films marketed to little girls that star the Barbie icon and her friends. The three were at least five foot ten, and—with the exception of the variation in age—they could have been cast from the same mold. The trio was regal, sophisticated, and aloof. Casey was sure the perfume they were wearing was every bit as expensive as their outfits, but she was fighting nausea from the scent within the close confines. The senior Barbie’s designer skirt hit about mid-knee; her navy-colored suit and pale blue silk blouse looked high end. The outfit probably cost more than Casey made in two weeks.

Aesthetically, she found the elevator hijacker a relief and a welcome contrast to the blondes with the heart-shaped faces and aristocratic airs. Nearly as tall as the women, he appeared to be in his early teens, that awkward, gangly, time of life. An engaging smile set off a mischievous twinkle in his hazel eyes. Outrageously long lashes and eyebrows of a slightly darker brown than his wavy hair enhanced those appealing eyes. His high cheekbones, square jaw, and a patrician nose with a sprinkling of freckles already commanded a second look. The freckles kept him from being a complete heartbreaker. She felt sorry for the teenage girls in his path; they wouldn’t stand a chance.

 

The author will be awarding a “Wind River Refuge” autographed paperback to a randomly drawn winner (US ONLY), or a Smashwords coupon for a “Wind River Refuge” E-book for an international winner, via rafflecopter during the tour.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Author Jackie Anton lives in rural Ohio with her husband, two horses, two dogs, and abundant wildlife. Years of experience with horses and youth riders lend a unique perspective to her Backyard Horse Tales, and crop up in unexpected scenes in her adult works written with the pen name J.M.

Ms. Anton is the author of the award winning children’s series Backyard Horse Tales. In her 2015 award winning adult novel “Wind River Refuge” she turns her attention to the difficulties in overcoming childhood abuse. Set in the turbulent sixties and early seventies. This romance / who done it comes from a time before child advocacy, cell phones, and PCs.

Cassandra Hoffman begins her search for justice in the early decade of the twenty first century in Anton’s latest adult novel Cassandra: Night Shades.

Other Books by J.M.

2015 saw the release of the first two books in the Troubles in Love-Land Series. Book One: “Fateful Waters” was released as an e-book and paperback May of 2015. Book Two: “Panhandle Mayhem” was be released November of 2015. There is more to come in the series for 2016.

Author Links:

Writing Blog: http://jackieanton.com/

Author Website: http://talesbyjackie.com/

Author Page with buy links: http://www.independentauthornetwork.com/jackie-anton.html

Authors Den: www.authorsden.com/jackieanton

Online Autographs: http://www.authorgraph.com/authors/backyardhorse

FB Adult Fan Page: http://www.facebook.com/authorjmanton?ref=hl

Banewolf by Eden Ashley @Goddessfish #Paranormal #Romance

Love. Conflict. Adventure. Banewolf continues the romance, betrayal, and heartbreaking secrets between Kali, a girl who largely lacks understanding of the powerful creature contained within her, and Rhane, the mysterious and passionate man from her forgotten past.

 

Link to download Dark Siren for free: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00DSPPOX2

Link to purchase Banewolf: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00GTT3RDI

 

Excerpt:  Rhane

The stranger shifted, leaning over until his mouth was within a millimeter of her left ear. He spoke softly, his lips brushing against some serious nerve endings, “Is this seat taken?”

With a nervous shiver, she blinked long and slow, savoring the low and sexy quality of his voice. Then she edged away to put at least an inch between his lips and her ear. If he touched her like that again, Kali was very likely to embarrass herself. Just as she was about to answer his question, the room brightened with light from the illuminated screen. What Kali saw made her jaw drop.

If an eighty-year-old grandmother had been sitting next to her when this guy had shown up, Kali would have politely asked the old lady to move so the stranger could sit down. He was absurdly good looking. Silver lighting accented every perfect line and angle of his face. Several locks from his thick mass of hair fell idly across his forehead, slightly curling at the ends. There was softness to his features that suggested he could be a keeper.

The stranger returned Kali’s stare with an intensity that took in every part of her. But his eyes never left her face.

Realizing she had been staring at him stupidly for far too long, Kali struggled to find something to say. “I’m…” She cleared her throat. “It’s yours.”

He finally looked away. Whatever tied her to him was loosed, and Kali pulled her gaze away. They didn’t speak again for a long time, but Kali was constantly aware of him. She kept stealing furtive glances in his direction because the sight of him was more enthralling than anything the movie had to offer. Growing bolder, Kali watched him from the corner of her eye at increasingly longer intervals. Apparently, the stranger was not as bothered as she was. Relaxed in his seat, he sat observing the screen with languid interest, doing a pretty good job convincing her that he’d forgotten anyone was beside him. Kali was so immersed with watching him, and was completely startled when he spoke.

“It’s not polite to stare,” he murmured softly without taking his eyes from the screen.

Kali jerked and turned away. But she wasn’t fast enough and was mortified to see the beginning of a satisfied smile appear on his face. She slid down into the chair, grateful for the darkness that concealed a blush spreading across her cheeks. From then on she tried to concentrate on the movie. But it was useless. She gave up and watched the screen absently, all the while thinking about the guy sitting next to her and how he probably thought she was an absolute dork. She didn’t get it. Boys never had this affect on her. For the past two years, it had always been them falling helplessly at her feet.

A mutated mix of human and creature launched itself from a quiet scene, growling and snarling into the camera. Several audience members jumped in surprise, and Kali was one of them. She made a noise that sounded like a strangled bird.

“Do these things frighten you?” the stranger asked. He was clearly enjoying her discomfort.

Kali cleared her throat. “Why would they? This stuff isn’t real.” This time, she didn’t look at him.

After a long moment, he spoke again. “Right,” he slowly agreed.

 

Eden will be awarding a $10 Starbucks Gift Card to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

AUTHOR Bio and Links:

Eden currently resides in a small town in sunny South Carolina where thunderstorms inspire her best ideas. When not daydreaming about her next novel, she can be found curled up with a musty old paperback and a cup of coffee…or mired deeply in her next plot to take over the world. Since Eden enjoys reading or watching anything with supernatural elements, writing paranormal and fantasy romance is a natural fit.

Banewolf is the second installment of the Amazon Bestselling Dark Siren series. The first book is currently free for download on Amazon.

 

Eden loves to hear from readers and can be reached at the following links:

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

Blog: http://edenbynite.blogspot.com/

Twitter: Eden_byNite

Email: edenashleyromance@outlook.com

Crushed by Deborah Coonts #Contemporary #Romance @Goddessfish

GENRE: Contemporary Romance

In Napa Valley, he who has the best grapes wins. And in the pursuit of perfection, dreams and hearts can be crushed.

Sophia Stone is a widow on the brink of an empty nest, stuck in an unsatisfying job managing the vineyard for a mediocre Napa vintner. Faced with an uncertain future she wonders how do you choose between making a living and making a life? Between protecting your heart and sharing it? Five years ago, after her husband was killed in an accident, Sophia put her heart and dreams on ice to care for those around her. Now her home, her dreams, and her family’s legacy grapes are threatened by the greed of the new money moving into the Valley. Sophia has a choice—give up and let them take what is hers, or risk everything fighting a battle everyone says she can’t win.

Nico Treviani has one goal in life: make brilliant wine. A woman would be an unwanted distraction. So, while recognized as one of Napa’s premier vintners, Nico finds himself alone… until his brother’s death drops not one, but two women into his life—his thirteen-year-old twin nieces. In an instant, Nico gains a family and loses his best friend and partner in the winemaking business. Struggling to care for his nieces, Nico accepts a job as head winemaker for Avery Specter, one of the new-money crowd. And he learns the hard way that new money doesn’t stick to the old rules.

When Sophia Stone gets caught in the middle of Nico’s struggle to remain true to himself or sacrifice his convictions to make stellar wine, both Sophia and Nico are faced with a choice they never imagined. A choice that might extinguish the hope of a future neither expected.

 

Amazon

iBooks

 

AUTHOR Bio and Links:

My mother tells me I was born in Texas a very long time ago, but I’m not so sure—my mother can’t be trusted. She’ll also tell you I was a born storyteller. That I believe—I have the detention notices and bad-conduct reports to prove it. However, the path from minor hyperbolist, or as I prefer to think of my former self, Grand Master of the Art of Self-Prevarication, to the author of the New York Times Notable Crime Novel and double Rita ™ finalist, Wanna Get Lucky?, the book that launched the bestselling series, was a bit tortured.

Someone once told me I lived a peripatetic life—yes, I had to look it up. And he was right. I’ve been everything from a mom, business owner, accountant, wife, pilot, flight instructor, lawyer …worse, a tax lawyer… to a writer. The three personas I’ve kept suit me the best: mom, flight instructor, and writer. And the other personas I’ve tried on then shrugged out of and discarded like an itchy coat were great grist for the story mill.

Chasing stories keeps me busy and out of jail…for the most part. Researching in Vegas can be a bit… sketchy.

Prodded by the next adventure and the police, I keep moving. Right now I have a house in Texas, but that will change soon. I lived in Vegas for 15 years—the longest I’d stayed anywhere. And I get back there often. But other places, too, are calling.

Someone asked me the other day where I lived. The question stopped me cold. Finally I said, “On Southwest Airlines, third row, window seat, either side.” Always in search of a story. And the adventure would be perfect if they could just stock a split of nice Champagne.

www.deborahcoonts.com

https://www.facebook.com/deborahcoonts/

https://twitter.com/DeborahCoonts

 

Deborah will be awarding a $50 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour.

a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

Excerpt Two:  Chapter Two

Nico Treviani’s mood stood in stark contrast to the collegial spirit of the throng gathered at the annual meeting of the Napa Valley Vintners Association. Housed in a LEED-certified, open and airy, steel-and-glass building near the library in St. Helena, the Vintners Association was Mecca to winemakers both experienced and novice—a repository of their collective knowledge and a gathering place to commiserate over the fickle affections of their shared mistress.

Wine.

Had he had a choice, Nico would’ve done anything other than be a winemaker, but choice was not an option—he’d been born to it, a family heritage so strong that Nico suspected his blood was half Cabernet. As his father’s first-born, he was handed the reins to something that was less a business than a calling. On the other hand, his brother, Paolo, had been given the option, and, fool that he was, he chose wine. And the fool had died before he knew the brilliance of the last Cab vintage they’d crafted together. 100 points. Liquid perfection. Not many wines reached those lofty heights—not that it translated into much more than bragging rights, which were a damn poor substitute for food on the table. Without his own land, his own grapes, he was nothing more than the hired help. Oh, he could buy grapes and custom crush, but that wouldn’t be the same—he’d have no real control, and folks would take too keen an interest in watching him work his magic … assuming he had any left without his brother. No, he nee

ded his own space far from prying eyes … and he needed very special grapes.

Their mother had always said while you’d be hard-pressed to make a good living out of winemaking, you could make a great life. Nico wasn’t sure he agreed. And now that he had Paolo’s, children to house, feed, clothe, chase down, and send to college, he was feeling the pinch. How his brother had done it, he didn’t know. Especially after his wife had fled to the city. Preferring a quiet, sophisticated life, she’d turned her back on her family, her children. Nico was sure that was one of the unforgivable sins, the kind that ensured an eternity roasting on a spit over the open fires of Hell. And if it wasn’t, when he got there he’d be sure to figure a way to make it so.

As he eased into the back of the large room and leaned against the wall, Nico thought about the price a life of wine exacted. He recognized the back of every head filling the rows in front of him as the speaker droned on. He knew their histories almost as well as they did. One guy was a recovering alcoholic—no longer able to risk tasting his wine, he still made it, slaving over every nuance of the process. One or two had hit a home run and now basked in the ability to make limited batch estate wines that sold for upward of a grand a bottle. Some scratched out an existence on the strength of their wine clubs. Most turned large fortunes into small, proving the old joke. And then there were a very few, like Nico, who had been born to winemaking or grape growing, selling their skills to those who could pay. Despite differing backgrounds, and differing futures, wine glued them together.

Except for Avery Specter, Nico’s current employer.

As if thought could conjure flesh, Avery materialized in front of Nico, his usual ruddy complexion flushed hotter than normal. With his eyes at half-mast, his comb-over falling the wrong way in wisps of misplaced hair, exposing his bald pate, he looked like exactly what he was: a self-important prick who’d made a fortune in manufacturing, or textiles, or running a hedge fund, or something, and had bought his way into the wine business.

Specter grabbed Nico by the arm and tugged him into the vestibule as he hissed, “Have you read this report?” Stopping in the center of the open area, Avery turned to face his winemaker and pressed a sheaf of papers into his chest. “And before we get started, you need to learn one thing, Treviani. You come when I call.”

Being treated like a dog to be trained was enough to kick up Nico’s simmer to a boil, so he wasn’t about to validate Specter’s contemptuous attitude by making excuses … although he did have a good one. He figured talking the sheriff out of turning his twin thirteen-year-old nieces over to the Juvenile authorities would earn him a get-out-of-jail-free card, but ego wouldn’t let him play it. The psychologist said the girls were just acting out and they’d get beyond it. Fine for him to say—he didn’t have to ride herd on the heathens. Who knew two pint-sized females could bring a grown man to the point of complete surrender? Nico snorted at his own weakness.

“You think this is funny?” Specter’s voice rose enough to turn heads as the meeting broke up and Nico’s friends filtered out of the meeting room. When Nico ignored the sheaf of papers, Specter pulled them back and began rolling them into a tube, his agitation poorly hidden.

“No, sir.” Nico avoided making eye contact as he fought to get his temper under control. “There’s a lot more to life than making wine, Mr. Specter.”

“Not while you’re on my payroll.”

Specter had no children of his own, and that thought alone reassured Nico that there was indeed a God. But it also made arguing with the man futile. So he argued with himself. He had sold out. Lowered his standards. And he couldn’t shake the feeling it was going to bite him in the ass.

“You wanted to talk to me about a report?” Nico asked even though he knew all about it. Avery Specter might need a report to learn what had been painfully obvious for years, but Nico didn’t. Hell, he could’ve written the damn thing himself—he’d been saying as much for a long time now to anyone who would listen. It didn’t take some government expert to know the baby boomers were transitioning to fixed incomes, their penchant for high-end wine taking a hit along with their lifestyle. The next generation, whatever they were referred to—the Millenials, the Me generation, the Y generation? Nico couldn’t remember, but whoever they were, they didn’t yet have the disposable incomes or the sophisticated palates to support the high-end wine industry at the current levels. Something had to give.

Wineries had to reposition themselves.

Keeping his eyes lowered, Nico managed to avoid the few stragglers just now leaving the meeting room. It was bad enough being called to heel by his boss, but having his colleagues witness it threw gasoline on the embers of his foul mood. A few greeted him, and he nodded but didn’t invite conversation so they didn’t stop. Out of the corner of his eye, Nico caught the looks many flashed at Avery: contempt, thinly veiled if they tried to hide it at all.

Avery wasn’t stupid … anything but. His barely contained frustration and worry pulsed from him like light from a dying star making his hands shake as he unrolled then re-rolled the sheaf of papers into a tighter tube. “Cult wines are coming under economic pressure and there’s nothing we can do about it.” His reedy voice screeched like notes played by a fourth-grade clarinetist.

Nico crossed his arms and glowered at his boss. Cocking an eyebrow he feigned interest.

Avery didn’t wilt when he ran headlong into Nico’s scowl. “They say that the number of Boomers, the population segment solely responsible for the record profit of the cult wine industry, is shrinking.”

“Age attrition. People die, Mr. Specter.” Nico’s voice was flat, hard.

Avery’s mouth pulled into a thin line. His backbone straightened. But at six feet he was still several inches shorter than Nico, so he leaned in closer and lowered his voice. “I like being talked down to about as much as I like tardiness. You’re property bought and paid for. You’d be wise not to jerk my chain.”

“And you’d be wise to show a bit more respect. You need me, Mr. Specter. Without a winemaker making wine’s damned difficult. And you want high-priced juice, so you need a man with my CV—and, to my knowledge, there is only one.”

Heels firmly dug in, both men stared at each other. Neither wavered.

Finally, Specter shrugged as his gaze slithered to the side, focusing over Nico’s shoulder. “I know what people think of me around here. You people think I haven’t paid my dues. I don’t have wine running in my veins, filling my soul.” His derision leaked from each word. “You think I’m the worst kind of blight since phylloxera—a businessman thinking he can buy his way into making great wine. And you know what?” He stepped back and slapped the rolled-up report into Nico’s chest. “That’s exactly what I am.” He shot Nico a grin. “Working pretty good so far, don’t you think?”

Nico grabbed the papers before they could unfurl like the white flag of surrender in the heat of battle. A tic worked in his cheek as he watched the bastard saunter away. Avery Specter didn’t deserve much, he thought. Perhaps a grisly, lingering, painful death and a pine box, but not much more than that.

Nico felt someone step in next to him, but, wearing the blinders of pride, he resisted looking to see who.

“He’s wrong, you know. To me he’s more like Pierce’s disease. Kill a vine in less than five years and no cure in sight. Phylloxera we got under control.” Billy Rodrigues clearly had been eavesdropping, a fact that would make Nico mad if Billy wasn’t his best friend.

At the sound of Billy’s voice, Nico felt himself relax. “Quatro, you do have a way with words. Let’s hope he and his friends don’t kill the wine business.” Nico called Billy “Quatro” as did many others, because he was William Xavier Rodrigues IV. His father was Tres, same logic. Nico called him “Sir.”

Through the years, he and Quatro had witnessed many of each other’s indignities; one more wouldn’t matter. “But there is another side to all of this. And maybe I’m justifying,” Nico said, his temper dissipating. “God, I hate to give the guy any credit, but without money it’s damn hard to make a truly great cult wine. When you and me scratched our way up the ranks, making wine was like voodoo, a bunch of wine drinkers relying on folklore and playing around with a kid’s chemistry set. And the growers were nothing more than hobby farmers. But now, with property values through the roof, international distribution agreements, hundreds of wineries in this valley alone, it’s big damn business. ” Nico shot his friend a serious look minus the scowl he’d used for Specter.

“I still can’t figure whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing.” Quatro was thick and solid, his hair and skin different shades of brown, his eyes black, and his smile pure mischief. He’d been working the fields so long his hands were a mass of callouses permanently stained from red dirt, and red grape skins, and scarred by the brutal work. As if remembering his manners too late, Quatro swept his sweat-stained broad-brimmed straw hat from his head then raked his fingers through his thick salt-and-pepper hair. When he was done, he set his hat back in place, low over his brow.

“Both. More money to go around, but long-time residents are being priced out of the game.” Nico stuck the tube of papers in his back pocket. “All of us are in this together, the whole Valley. If we don’t figure out how to distinguish ourselves, the economic contraction is going to squeeze us all back into oenophilic oblivion.”

“All your awards—”

“Couldn’t save the family vineyard or keep my brother from dying.” Nico snarled as his brows snapped into a frown. The emotional tempest dissipated as fast as it had arisen. He squeezed his friend’s shoulder. “Sorry. Got a lot on my mind.”

“You made a 100-point wine from Beckstoffer grapes. And we all know they are the best.”

“I made the wine. My employer makes the money.” Nico didn’t voice his fear that now, without his brother, his wine wouldn’t be as good. They’d been a team. Was half really as good as the whole? And, his worst fear, could he even make wine without his brother? “What I need is something new, something better than Beckstoffer.” Nico raised his hand before Quatro could get a word in. “Not better, that was the wrong term. Just different, but not too far a reach for the discerning but limited American palate. Something amazing that we can produce at a reasonable price point.”

“Amazing yet accessible. The Holy Grail. Well, if anybody can do it, you can. But God knows where you’re going to find those grapes. And I know you’re a Cab guy, but, if I were you, I’d be thinking about something white or rosé.”

“Yeah, short or no aging, quick to market. I got an MBA in the family who’s been singing that song for years. We just haven’t found the grapes.”

“I’m pretty sure if you start making wine on the side, Mr. Specter will have no problem dragging you into court. As I recall his lawyers spent a lot of time crafting your non-compete. He’s got you tied up pretty good.”

“Given time and conviction all knots can be loosened.”

IN His Keeping by T.J. Adams #Paranormal #Romance @Goddessfish

GENRE: Paranormal Romance

At eighteen, Elise Duxten must end her life. Her younger sister, Marly, lies dead because of her. To pay for her crimes she sells her soul to the devil in exchange for her sister’s life.

Matrix, King of the crossroads, the Devil’s right hand man for the last twenty years, is willing to make the deal, eager for another pawn. To sweeten the exchange he gives her one year to mourn her decision before he takes her for good.

In that year he’s determined to torment her, driven by envy at the strength in her soul. Though having lived years apart, the same heartless man, Manx Sloazan, destroyed their lives.

With her remaining life, Elise must teach her sister to live without her and find the courage to say goodbye. It won’t be easy. Sloazan is determined to make Elise pay for a bungled drug sale and Matrix wants to torture her soul. Or does he?

With Elise, Matrix has discovered something he thought he’d lost. His heart. But he is the devil’s, without the ability to choose. When the time comes, will he be prepared to let her go in order to save her soul? Or will the Devil make sure he gets what is his due?

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Exclusive Excerpt:

In a scene Alby could imagine looked pitiable—no doubt making the guy feel vindicated—and not wishing to see the gloat on his face a second longer, Alby rolled gingerly onto his stomach, wincing from the pain, but holding his tongue—he sure as hell was not going to make a sound. There was little point worrying about the man’s next move. He was as good as dead so turning his back did nothing except change the position of the bullseye. Either way, it would hurt badly before he was saved by his own demise.

He lay still on his stomach, his chest propped up on his hands like he was doing sloppy push-ups. And there, straight in front, silent and deadly, a gift of life: a gun.

“Now, kiddo. I don’t want you to go thinking this is anything personal. You’re just the meat caught between the bread, that’s all. If it makes you feel any better, I’d just as willingly stick the guy passing me on the street as you. You see this is between me and Sloazan. We’ve been going tit-for-tat long enough now you’d think one of us would lose our luck. Seems destiny wants us both to tangle a while longer. But hey, you were close. The closest anyone has been. So I give credit to your skill. But sorry, you just weren’t good enough.”

The words never managed to penetrate his conscience. His stomach and heart gathered in his mouth. The throb of his blood pounded out an erratic rhythm threatening to burst his blood vessels and explode his brain. He lay frozen. One lunge was all it would take. He faced annihilation of himself or someone else. Only a fool would choose differently.

Maybe the guy understood why Alby froze, had worked it out when he saw the tray lying on the floor. The guy rushed forward—the change in the air tweaking over Alby’s senses told him so. Alby moved like a cat, with stealth and speed. He swung over onto his back, brought his hand up and pulled the trigger.

 

The author will be awarding a $20 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour, and a $20 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn host.

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AUTHOR Bio and Links:

TJ Adams couldn’t decide what she wanted to be when she grew up and travelled instead. She returned from overseas with the thrill of adventure still inside, so decided to train as a commercial light aircraft pilot, flying out of the remote aboriginal communities of north Western Australia.

A badly damaged eardrum clipped her wings, and she returned to Perth to complete a BA of science. During this time she meet her husband halfway up a rock face, while engaging in one of her favorite past times, rock climbing.

Somewhat tamed, TJ Adams and hubby settled in the Perth Hills with their three children.

When her children were little, TJ Adams found her new passion—books. Countless books later and the idea of becoming an author emerged.

Her favorite genre is paranormal with her first novel Bound under contract with Eternal press. Unable to stop her fingers from tapping, TJ Adams has since formed a partners with another Perth author, Renee Hammond to complete the Hells Gate series. In His Keeping is her latest release.

Website: http://tjadamsauthor.com

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

Twitter: https://twitter.com/adams_terina

Amazon author page: https://amazon.com/author/tjadams.com

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5993768.T_J_Adams

Pure Temptation by Auria Jourdain #Historical #Romance @Goddessfish

GENRE: Historical Romance

A rogue gypsy hired to kidnap a debutante Creole spying for the Cabildo government discovers they are both pawns in a dangerous Frenchman’s game. Over land and sea, they discover the truth, but can they fight their uncontrollable desire for one another to save her family home?

 

 

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Excerpt:

Talia smiled from behind her parasol as Monsieur Barberry eyed her intently while doing his chores. For once, she found it pleasing to be ogled by a man. There was something foreign and exciting about him, more intriguing than her usual conquests. Most attractive heathens she came across were either arrogant and irritating or foppish and boring, like her friend, Alex Lafitte. Alex was adventurous, but that was the extent of his likability. As far as Talia was concerned, he was immature and not at all confident with himself as a man.

This Talon Barberry, now he was a real man—not just some barbarian like Ricardo had told her. Hadn’t he saved her in the slave hold out of a sense of honor? Talia hadn’t uttered ten words to him, but her heart raced as she regarded his mysterious, brooding façade. A sharp intelligence shone in his black eyes as he watched and marked everyone around him. At the same time, he showed a tender side, especially with the little slave boy. His camaraderie with the child was endearing, and Talia firmly believed that most children were good judges of character.

 

 

Auria will be awarding e-copies of Pure Temptation on Kindle to 5 randomly drawn winners, and 1 grand prize – a signed paperback copy of Pure Temptation with swag bag and goodies – to one randomly drawn winner, all via rafflecopter during the tour.

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AUTHOR Bio and Links:

An avid reader from an early age, Auria Jourdain has fond childhood memories of spending quiet afternoons with a book in her hand. She loved the “happily ever after” sweet teen romances, and when she came of age, she plunged into the world of historical romance with fervor, transporting herself to a bygone time. Her favorites were Regency, but as a girl brought up in a common home, she was disheartened that most of the novels of this era focus on the nobility and wealth. Auria set out to write her own romance, encompassing her passion for French Revolutionary history and her innate sense of goodwill for the common man. An idealist at heart, she writes heroes and heroines that struggle to find acceptance in their world. Their differences” and their soul mates’ complete acceptance of them are the embodiment of values that she holds dear, passed down to her by her father, a blue collar worker. She has an autistic son struggling to make his own way in the world. Looking to educate people about this mysterious disorder, she’s releasing a YA novel set in the U.P just for him during Autism Awareness month, April 2016. She hopes that someday we can break down the social barriers and forgo stereotypical judgments that harm our world.

Auria lives in the Upper Peninsula of Michigan with her husband of twenty years, her four children (ages eight to eighteen), and two golden retrievers. A rather new transplant to the area, she loves the changing of the seasons, and she is currently working on a contemporary romantic suspense trilogy set in her rough and rugged homeland. Silence the Northwoods is set at a local ski resort in her hometown of Ironwood, Michigan—the ski capital of the Midwest. Silence the Waters takes place during the summer on the dangerous river ways that flow into Lake Superior in the Keweenaw Peninsula; and Silence the Birchwoods is an autumn tale set on Sugar Loaf Mountain, near Marquette, Michigan. All three involve murder, mystery, and romance, of course.

Auria spends her the long winters plotting and scheming her next book, and in the mild summers, she and her husband spend every waking moment they can hiking and kayaking the Northwoods. An amateur photographer, she lives fifteen miles from the shores of Lake Superior, and her muse has been piqued by the awe-inspiring beauty that surrounds her. Although she hasn’t officially acquired “Yooper” status yet, she can’t envision living anywhere else.

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https://www.auriajourdainromance.com/

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