Rachel A. Olson's Blog, page 65

Destruction of the Soul Cover Reveal @jlvallance # DestructionoftheSoul #CoverReveal

“Destruction of the Soul” By JL Vallance
“There is more at stake in Aedan’s war than any of you realize.” Vivienne Drake is lost.
She’d let every one of her walls down, finally allowing others into her guarded circle, and all it brought her was pain and devastation. Now, out of fear and desperation, she’s turning to the one being she believes will be truthful with her; the only being that’s dared to give her anything resembling an honest answer--Linux, The Cruciatum.
The Daemonium is dangerous and mysterious, and offering Vivienne things that she’s been begging for. He offers her a chance at discovering what lies just beyond her reach. Though his motives remain far from clear, there is something within him that Vivienne is drawn to. And she wants nothing more than to believe in him, to believe in the things he tells her.
Together, they uncover details of Aedan’s plans, and discover what he intends to use his daughter for. Vivienne learns that she carries within her a destructive darkness, that if she allows, will consume her, and destroy the goodness she contains.
Fighting an endless battle against lies and deception, Vivienne must find the strength within herself to remain on a virtuous path. She’ll be forced to overcome pain and obstacles in order to discover the truth of just how deep the deceit runs within The Guild.
Can she remain above the darkness for the sake of Humanity and herself, or will she allow it to devour her light and destroy her soul?
Release Date: August 20th GoodReads


 J. L. Vallance is a wife, mom, and nurse by day, while posing as a writer by night. Plagued with an overactive imagination, a lover of all things supernatural in nature, she has an extraordinary flair for the dramatic that adds flavor to life. There’s little in her world that Otis Redding and buttercream icing can’t fix. And of course, coffee always helps too. True story.
Website/Blog: http://www.jlvallance.com/ 
Twitter: https://twitter.com/jlvallance 
FB Author Page:https://www.facebook.com/jlvallanceguild 
Goodreads:http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6548856.J_L_Vallance








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The Tyrant King @Cheriwrites

Title: The Tyrant King (The Peasant Queen 2)Author: Cherie Chesley Genre: FantasyTour Host: Lady Amber's Tours
Krystal's peaceful life as queen of Fayterra is shattered when a stranger arrives with a connection to Jareth that threatens to change everything. Soon her loved ones are threatened, her people are under attack, and Krystal must face a devastating loss. As the future becomes bleaker and the mystery continues to unravel, Krystal's enemies will learn just how far she will go to defend the people she loves.



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Krystal took the letter from Calum and watched as he and Jareth took their leave. Her stomach became a mess of butterflies as she looked down at Andrew’s handwriting. She had to wonder why he’d written her a letter, since she and Jareth had only left the farm a matter of weeks before.She slid her finger under the seal and unfolded the parchment, noting how her hands shook as she did so. Something didn’t feel right. It was almost as if she’d gone back to that day when she’d opened another letter to learn her mother had died.But it couldn’t be bad news again—at least, not like that.
Dear Sister,
It pains me to relay this news to you, but yesterday Kayne was killed in a hunting accident. I know this message will take weeks to reach you, and you will likely be in the middle of Jareth’s sister’s wedding, so I don’t expect you to travel for the funeral. We will hold a quiet service for him, much like we did for Mother.
Please know that the rest of the family is well.
Andrew
Krystal read the words over and over until her eyes became too blurred with tears to make them out. Kayne, the youngest of her four brothers and only two years older than Krystal. He couldn’t be dead.All through her childhood Krystal and Kayne had clashed wills. Before her abduction from the family farm she’d been certain he didn’t even care about her—only to learn from Andrew that Kayne had also wanted to search for her.Now she’d never have the opportunity to repair their relationship.She wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. Jareth. She had to tell him. Needed to feel his comforting arms around her.Where had he gone? The throne room, she remembered. Calum said they had a new visitor. Still clutching the letter in her hand, she left the bedchamber.Krystal passed several people in the halls, people who had come for Alana’s wedding, but she did not have it in her to greet any of them. A tiny voice in her head told her she was being rude, but she couldn’t make it matter.  The doors of the throne room stood open. Krystal beamed in relief as she recognized Jareth’s broad shoulders. Calum stood next to Jareth, what she could see of his face an impenetrable mask. She entered the room and moved toward her husband.Then Krystal saw the person speaking to Jareth and she froze. Andrew’s letter slid from her hand onto the floor.


 


Currently blissful working mother of 5. Married to a fantastic, amazing, supportive man. I love to read, I love to write and I love taking pictures (though my skill is debatable lol).

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Hold On To Me Cover Reveal Blitz @ElisNaughton #HOLDONTOME #CoverReveal

“Hold On To Me” By Elisabeth Naughton
He thinks he’s finally found the one. Mitch Mathews never believed in love—at least not the happily ever after kind. Then he met Simone Conners. Just one night with the sexy lawyer made him reevaluate his priorities and look toward a future he never planned. The only hang up is making her see it too.
She’s almost ready for a second chance. What started out as a casual hookup with a rugged geologist has turned into something a whole lot more. Simone’s on the verge of handing over her heart, but fear over what Mitch will say and do when he learns who she used to be holds her back.  
The past could destroy their future... Just when Simone is about to take a chance on forever with Mitch, the mistakes of her past catch up with her. Suddenly it’s not just her safety on the line anymore, it’s his too. Forced into hiding, Mitch demands answers, and Simone realizes the only way to protect everything she holds dear is to delve into a past she’s spent fourteen years trying to forget. As they search for the truth, they discover secrets, lies and a rekindled passion that burns hotter than before. But they also uncover a conspiracy that threatens the very fabric of society. One that could cost them more than just their future…it could cost them their lives.

I was never one of those people who knew they wanted to be an author at the age of six. I didn’t have imaginary friends. I didn’t write stories in my journal or entertain my relatives by firelight after Thanksgiving dinner. For the most part, I was just a normal, everyday kid. I liked to read, but I wasn’t exceptional at it. And when my teachers complimented me on my writing abilities, I brushed them off. I did, however, always have a penchant for the unique and absurd. And as my mother told me all throughout my childhood, I should have been an actress—I was a drama queen before my time. Years ago, my husband bought me Scarlett: The Sequel to Gone With The Wind. If you ever saw the book, you know it’s a long one. I sat and read that thing from cover to cover, and dreamed of one day being a writer. But I didn’t actually try my hand at writing until years later when I quit my teaching job to stay home with my kids. And my husband? After that week of reading where I neglected him and everything else until I finished Scarlett, he vowed never to buy me another book again. Little did he know I’d one day end up sitting at a keyboard all day drafting my own stories.
My writing journey has not been easy. I didn’t just sit down one day, decide I was going to write a book and voila! sell my very first attempt. As most authors will probably agree, the path to publication is filled with hours of work, pulling all-nighters I thought I’d given up in college, sacrifices, rejections, but a love I discovered along the way I just can’t live without. Instead of a big, thick book to read by lamplight (I do read much smaller ones when I get the chance), I’ve traded in my reading obsession for a laptop. And I’ve never been happier.
I’m one of the lucky ones. I have a wonderful family and fabulous husband who put up with my writing—and obsessive personality—even when life is chaotic. More than once my kids have been late to swimming or baseball because I needed just five more minutes to finish a scene. Their support and encouragement mean the world to me. I also have amazing friends and a support network I couldn’t survive without. So to all of you out there who have encouraged me along the way, sent me emails and fan letters, phone calls and congratulations, I just want to say, thank you. You make this whole writing gig that much more enjoyable. I truly wouldn’t be here without you.
Website/Blog: http://www.elisabethnaughton.comTwitter:https://twitter.com/ElisNaughtonFB Author Page:https://www.facebook.com/elisabeth.naughton1Goodreads:http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/2002988.Elisabeth_Naughton
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Long Road, Full Speed Ahead Cover Reveal @authorewalker

 Title: Long Road, Full Speed AheadAuthor: Emily WalkerGenre: New Adult DramaReveal Host: Lady Amber's Tours
Free June 19-21!!
Grace finds herself with a toxic friend and a brand new hobby when she discovers meth. She had a promising future before Grayson came into the picture. A wolf in sheep’s clothing he soon shows his true colors and they are painted with black and blue.The drugs cause more problems than they fix, but lost in the intoxicating world of numbness she must find herself through abuse, addiction, and abortion. Will she let the drugs take her out of the world, and be forever numb, or will an unlikely love pull her out and make her feel again?
Prologue To understand what brings someone to rock bottom, you first have to look at what they were like on the top. There I was, this naive bright-eyed teenager leaving home for the first time, going to live on my own at college. I was hidden from the crazy that was inside of me. It didn’t seem like bad things could happened to good people and that my choices could have bad consequences. If I had known how dumb I was at eighteen, I would have run back to the safety of my parent’s house screaming to escape from myself. Instead, I stayed and began a long road, full speed ahead.    I blame two people for my downward spiral into drug fueled oblivion. Well, that is not really true, I blame myself the most. The crazy part of me escaped for a little while and I became a different person. I made some poor choices and no one forced them on me. So I blame three people: I, my alcoholic, loser ex-boyfriend and my self-involved best friend. The fact that she was a meth addict did not factor into how I felt about Miranda.  I was interested in her life, the dirty sex she found comfortable and her devil, crystal meth. I suppose you could say my story is pretty standard for a twenty-year-old from a small town. I have witnessed lots of things I wish I could erase from my memory.When I hit rock bottom, I should have left this earth for good, but someone had other plans for this girl. I suppose I should start my story where everyone’s tale begins: At the beginning of the end.Chapter 1 – Lemon FishThe first sign that my life had taken a different turn was the day I quit waiting tables at Finn’s. It was a normal day. I woke up and ate my breakfast with my ungrateful boyfriend of two years. He bitched because I hadn’t cleaned the bathroom to his standards and his eggs were cold. Like I said, it was a normal morning. Finn’s is an Italian restaurant in a rich part of town. The clientele are mostly assholes and dealing with them was not something I looked forward to every day. Just the day before a lady had thrown her fish at me, a whole fish! I had let a good amount of time pass before returning to her table. I could tell she hated everything on the menu by the way she was looking at it. I asked her if she had decided what she wanted. She looked me up and down as if trying to decide if I was worthy enough to wait on her. This was typical of the customers who came in, they were not afraid to look down their noses at anyone. “Does your trout come with a slice of lemon on the side?” She hissed like it was the worst thing in the world that could happen. “No ma’am, it is cooked in lemon butter when it is pan seared,” I replied. “But we only add a slice of lemon when requested.” “Well, I will have the trout, but there better not be a hint of a lemon slice, or I will be very upset.” Something told me she would be upset no matter what came out, but the customer is always right. I went into the kitchen and told the cook, Marco, to make sure no lemon touched the stupid bitch’s fish. “It’s cooked in lemon butter, baby, what she expects?” He said. Marco’s English was great for the most part, but every once in a while he slipped and missed a few words. “What I make it in instead, sweetie?” He also had an annoying habit of calling me every pet name that he knew. “I don’t know. Cook it in regular butter, or just oil, just no lemon, please.” “Whatever you say, she is going to hate it plain.” Marco turned back to his cooking. He never listened to me when the guests requested something special. They would always take it out on the server and the cooks never had to deal with it. Why should he care if they were happy or not?I went back out and continued to wait on my other tables. At least they were friendly. One lady even complimented my jewelry. I thought it was nice because I rarely get even a smile from my customers. They are all too good to smile; either that or they have too much Botox. I saw the owner come in and tried my best to avoid him. Finley White is a creepy older man who opened Finn’s after he had great success in Florida with his restaurant Finn’s Seafood and Wine. He really does not belong in the mountains. He hates everything about it, but he loves making money. He has a couple of women in his life, both young enough to be his granddaughters. They were always around demanding things of the waitresses. He has a full head of gray hair that he styles with gel into a poof that moves when he talks, and he is always sucking on a peppermint.He is someone who makes me uncomfortable and he is not afraid to talk to us in inappropriate ways. He wants his waitresses to wear tight black pants and unbutton their shirts to show cleavage. It’s probably just for his enjoyment, seeing as how most of the eighty-year-old billionaires could barely see past their wine glass. I saw him go over to the lady who had ordered the fish and kiss her hand. Great. I knew I was in for it because she was one of his minions. They leaned their heads in close and looked back at me as they whispered. I pictured the conversation going like this: “Who is that dreadful homely girl you hired? She doesn’t even know what a lemon slice is.” She would throw her head back and cackle as she held her chest.“Well, she came in on a day when I had too much to drink and I thought she looked good in the uniform.” He would wiggle his brows and grin as if he had just told the best joke. “She is the worst waitress in the entire universe and I am so rich I lived on Mars for a while.” She would put her hand on his arm and wink at him as she eyed me with hatred.“Ha, you are hilarious, Constance.” Or some other equally horrible name. “Her days are numbered here, and I am just trying to get into her pants.” “Grace, Earth to Grace, that crazy woman’s fish is getting cold.” Marco jarred me back to reality. “You need to get your head in the game, girl. Quit daydreaming.” “Thanks, Marco, wish me luck,” I called over my shoulder as I began the dreaded march to her table. At least Finn had left so I got to deal with the snooty witch by myself. “Here you are, ma’am. May I get anything else for you?” She looked at the plate I placed in front of her like it was road kill that had been sitting out for weeks and then hastily whirled around in her seat to stare at me. “I smell lemon,” she snarled. “You stupid girl, how hard is it to not let a lemon slice touch my food?” I tried to hold onto my composure. “Ma’am, I assure you that there is no way a lemon touched your food.” I dug my fingernails into my palm to prevent my shakiness from showing up in my words.  I didn’t want her to know she was getting to me.“You are lying to me.” She started to raise her voice. “There is no way I will eat this garbage and you probably did this on purpose.” She shoved the plate away from her and crossed her arms like a child. I half expected her to stick her tongue out at me.I realized the woman was crazy. She had listened with disdain to my entire list of specials and chose the one thing she could complain about. I knew that it would do no good to argue, so I reached for the plate in front of her. “I will get them to make you a fresh fish; it will only take a minute.” I would make sure it had a healthy dose of spit or dirt in it when she got it back. “No!” She screamed as she slapped my hand. “You have already ruined my dinner. I am going to ruin your pretty little uniform.”The next part happened in slow motion. There was nothing I could do to stop it. She held my arm in one hand and the plate in the other. I looked around at my fellow waitresses in disbelief. Finn looked up and gave me a hateful stare as he walked toward me. I looked into the eyes of the crazy woman as she lifted out of her chair with the plate. Then she threw it and everything went back to normal speed. The plate cracked against my forehead, the fish hit me in the mouth and the juices from the fish slid down my face and into my shirt. She stood up and ran shrieking to the bathroom.  I walked over to a table to sit down and collect myself. “What did you do?” Finn screamed. “Go clean up and get back to work. This is a business, not a place for you to harass my customers with your bad manners.” “You were standing there, Finn. You saw everything. How can you possibly blame this on me?” My face burned with rage. I knew it was red and I silently cursed the tears that stung my eyes.“Ms. Elizabeth is a fine lady and she has more class in her little toe than you possess in your entire body.” He was in my face. “You must have said something smart and provoked her. Now the poor thing has been embarrassed in public and the whole town will be talking about how I cannot control my rude waitresses.” He spat as he talked and some of it landed on my cheek. I cringed in disgust. I didn’t wipe it away as I faced him because I didn’t want to back down. I wasn’t wrong, that woman was crazy. I could not believe what was happening. I had kept my cool and tried to keep her happy and this was the thanks I got? I went into the bathroom and plopped down on the toilet seat. Why do I work for this jerk? I thought. The crazy lady was in the stall beside me. I could see her four thousand dollar shoes


Emily Walker loves creating worlds and stumbling around in them. She is constantly losing her chap-stick, and has an obsession with the color pink. Currently a resident of the mountains and loving the view she writes mostly paranormal fiction, and horror. Her small family consists of her red bearded other half, a rat terrier named Rebel, and a cat called Mr. Creepy.

Website – http://www.authoremilywalker.com
Blog – http://www.selfpublishordie.com
Review site – http://www.reviewsfrombeyondthebook.blogspot.com
Facebook – http://www.facebook.com/authoremilywalker
Twitter- http://www.twitter.com/authorewalker

Strip Me Bare Book Blitz @marissacarmel

Title: Strip Me BareAuthor: Marissa Carmel Release Day: TBAGenre: New Adult
Blitz Host: Lady Amber's Tours

“I may have had more lovers than you, and I may take my clothes off for countless women, but you are the only one who can strip me bare.” 
Do you ever stop loving someone just because they’re gone? Five years ago Ryan Pierce disappeared from Alana Remington’s life without leaving so much as a post-it note behind. He was the one she gave her heart to, her soul to and her virginity to. So imagine her surprise when she finds him dancing at one of NYC’s hottest male reviews as Jack the Stripper. Ryan never stopped loving Alana, and now that she serendipitously dropped back into his life, he’s vowed never to lose her again. But being together has its costs, and challenges Alana isn’t sure she can handle. She finally has Ryan back; but how in the world is she supposed to share the love of her life with half of the women in New York City?

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Marissa Carmel has been writing since a young age and although it has always been for personal enjoyment, she finally decided breakout and share her imagination with the world. She hopes that her universe is as fun and intriguing to her readers as it is to her. Marissa Carmel is originally from NJ but moved to Maryland several years ago, she enjoys reading, writing, and catching up on her ever growing DVR library. She is currently working on the sequel to iFeel, Gravitational Pull and the third and final installment of the Vis Vires trilogy, Constellation.
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My Highland Lord Blog Tour @TarahScott

Title: My Highland LordAuthor: Tarah ScottGenre: Historical RomanceTour Host: Lady Amber's Tours
London Heiress kidnapped by the Marquess of Ashlund, read the headlines. Yet no one tried to save her.
Phoebe Wallington was seven years old when a mass assassination attempt rocked Regency England. Her father was the only accused traitor to elude capture. Now as a grown woman and a British spy, she is no closer to learning what really happened that day.
Phoebe's quest for the truth takes a sudden turn when she's kidnapped by a suspected traitor.But Kiernan MacGregor, the Marquess of Ashlund, may not live long enough to stand trial. Someone wants him dead. And Phoebe stands in the killer's way.

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The criminal was alive and well. Yet, the one man who could have exposed him was dead. Phoebe stared at the clipping of the obituary notice printed in The Times five days ago. The knowledge of his death settled around her as black as the darkness surrounding her carriage. The lantern flickered with the sway of the carriage as she slid her gaze over the paragraph that extolled Bow Street Sheriff John Stafford’s criminal expertise, and past the mention of his involvement in The Cato Street Conspiracy. A man’s life reduced to two paragraphs. For the hundredth time since she'd first read the obituary, she settled her gaze on the final line.September 1837, John Stafford died in his London home.Phoebe refolded the clipping, set it on her lap, and pulled another document from her reticule. She ran her fingers along the age-yellowed edges of the only letter her father had written to her mother, the letter she had shown John Stafford when she'd visited him in his home five years ago. She unfolded the foolscap and, with a deep breath, began reading. Her lips moved in tandem with the words she'd long ago memorized.
May 20, 1820My Dearest Amelia,Please forgive this letter so long overdue. I am well and I have found safe haven—at least for the moment. You have, no doubt, heard the news that I am wanted for high treason, and now you know that my suspicions were correct. Amelia, you cannot know how my accusers make even the most abhorrent criminal look like one of God’s angels. I sorely underestimated the depth of their deceit. Fool that I am, I did not anticipate being branded a traitor in their stead.I know your heart is heavy, my love, but no more so than mine. It is shocking to learn that one’s leaders are willing to sacrifice their countrymen for money and power. Ironically, had I known then what I now know, I would be guilty of their accusations. Do not shudder. I know I speak treason, but you cannot comprehend the fine line between reason and desperation when all choices have been eliminated.Would it shock you to hear that I relish the day I shall destroy my accusers? They have taken all I hold dear: you, our darling Phoebe and, lastly, my freedom. While I cannot like Arthur Thistlewood—his motives are not pure as he would have us believe—in one thing he was right: those few rich and powerful men who rule supreme in our society have stolen our rights.I have a plan, which, of course, I cannot elaborate upon here, but I must uncover the truth. Otherwise…well, otherwise, I am no better than Thistlewood—or those men who brought him to justice.I do not know when I will have another opportunity to write. Give Phoebe my love, and do not despair. I have not.Your loving husband,Mason
It wasn't until her mother's death ten years ago that Phoebe learned her father sent this letter. The letter, hidden amongst her mother's personal correspondence, had been folded with a newspaper clipping dated February 24, 1820, the day after the Spencean Society's planned assassination of the Cabinet. The newspaper clipping, a statement made by Lord Sidmouth to the London Gazetteconcerning the charge of high treason against Thistlewood and his murder of bow street runner Richard Smithers, also mentioned the bounty on Thistlewood's head. The paragraphs were framed by a note written in her father's hand on the sides.Sidmouth could not have yet known that Thistlewood killed Smithers. Here is proof positive the noose had been put around Thistlewood's neck before he even planned the assassinations."Why?" Phoebe whispered. Why had her father been falsely accused and why had he cared that the government ensured Thistlewood's capture? Thistlewood was a known murderer, a man—a sharp sideways jostle yanked Phoebe back to the present.“What in—”Another jolt cut short the exclamation.Phoebe yanked back the curtain and peered into the darkness. No lights dotted the countryside as they should have and the moonlit sky revealed open fields beyond the road.She quickly refolded the letter and clipping, stuffed them into her reticule, then opened the door an inch and called, “Where are we, Calders? I don’t recognize this road.”“Taking a shortcut, Miss,” came the muffled reply.“Wha—" The coach listed, and she slammed the door with the force of the movement, tumbling back against the cushion. "By heavens."Phoebe seized the handle again. The door was yanked from her grasp and flung open. A man filled the doorway. Phoebe jerked back as a rush of air guttered the lantern flame. Her heart jumped when she lost sight of the intruder for an instant, then the light flared to life again. The man gripped the side of the open doorway of the slowing carriage, one leg braced on the floor. She took in eyes bluer than any she'd ever seen, an angled face, and a fit body leaning forward on one powerful leg—a leg clad in finely cut trousers. Thievery paid well these days!She cut her gaze to his and he grinned. Phoebe pooled her strength. Understanding flickered in his eyes the instant before she kicked his shoulder with a slippered foot. With a loud grunt, he toppled from the coach. She lunged forward, caught hold of the flapping door, and hung her head out the doorway, scanning the road behind for the brigand. The coach was slowing even more, and her heart leapt higher in her throat when he jumped to his feet and starting toward them.“Calders,” she yelled, “lay whip to the horses. Quickly!”The coach halted and she tumbled through the door, and landed on her side. A dull pain throbbed deep in her shoulder. She pushed onto an elbow and fingered the tender place on her arm. No blood. Thank God she'd worn a cloak.The carriage creaked and Phoebe looked up to see the murky form of her coachman as he dropped to the ground. She scrambled to her feet and turned in the direction of the highwayman. He wasn’t hastening to them as expected, but strolled forward while dusting off his trousers. She turned on unsteady feet to face Calders and her eyes came into sharp focus upon the face of a stranger.She recoiled, then narrowed her eyes on him. “Where's Calders. What have you done with him? If you harmed him—”"Never fear, madam, he is unharmed."Phoebe whirled at the sound of the velvet, deep voice belonging to the highwayman."I promise," he said, "Calders was simply delayed.”A sudden pounding of hooves riveted her attention onto the distant shadowy forms of four approaching horsemen.“There!” one of the newcomers shouted. “There she is.”She looked back at the highwayman in time to see him step toward her. He seized her arm. She tried to yank free, but he began dragging her toward the carriage.“Mather,” he said in a low voice, “get this coach underway. Now."Phoebe dug her heels into the ground and was abruptly hauled over his shoulder. She cried out, but he didn't slow his pace. “Release me, you fool!" she shouted. His shoulder dug into her stomach with each long, hurried stride he took. Phoebe kicked, despite the pain."Be still" he ordered, and clamped his arm down on her legs.She thrashed harder. A shot rang out. She jerked her head up, but found herself tossed onto the cushions of the carriage. The highwayman jumped into the carriage after her. “Damnation.” He slammed the door shut. “They mean to put a ball through me.”He pounded on the coach roof and it lurched into motion. Phoebe clutched at the door handle, but pitched forward despite the effort. Her captor shoved her back against the cushions, holding her firm as he pulled back the curtain and peered out the window.“Bloody hell.” He looked at her. “Fine time for shenanigans.”She frowned. “Perhaps you should keep a tighter hand on your band.”“They are not my band, madam.” His gaze was still fixed out the window. “They are, however, a persistent band and will reach us momentarily.” He twisted to look in the direction they were headed, then pounded on the carriage roof and shouted, “Mather, make for that abandoned farm up ahead.”The carriage veered and Phoebe bounced left and right despite his hold on her. Stories of runaway carriages conjured pictures of broken necks and twisted bodies, and she envisioned herself pitching forward head first into the opposite seat. The arm pinning her to the cushions suddenly encircled her waist. Another jolt of the carriage, and her unwanted companion yanked her tight against his chest.Her senses flooded with the aroma of wool and musky sandalwood. They listed when the carriage swayed perilously to one side. Phoebe seized his lapel and buried her face deeper in his chest. If there was a God in heaven, she would land on the brigand when the carriage rolled and he would break his neck while saving hers.The carriage halted. He threw back the door and jumped to the ground, dragging her with him. The farmhouse stood a few feet away. Phoebe scanned the distance. The riders approached at a gallop and would soon reach the barn that sat sixty feet from the house. The highwayman grabbed her hand and started around the side of the ramshackle farmhouse. She started to yank free, but hesitated. Two bands of extortionists? Why—and which was the more dangerous?They rounded the building, then he pushed her against the wall, and demanded, “Which of your other admirers am I dealing with?”Other admirers? Phoebe flushed. Adam.She had refused Adam's offer of marriage three times this year alone, but hadn't considered that her childhood friend would kidnap her in an effort to coerce her into accepting his proposal. But if this man was Adam's friend, where was he—and who were the other thugs? God only knew, but at least Adam's friends didn't pose any real danger—other than the possibility of her ending up in Gretna Green.Her kidnapper drew a pistol from the back of his waistband. Phoebe pressed closer to the rough stone of the farmhouse. He stepped forward two paces past her, extended a steady hand, and leveled the weapon on the oncoming riders. A shot rang out and shouts damned him to the darker parts of hell.He ducked back behind the farmhouse. “Never thought I’d need more than one shot.” He stuffed the pistol back into his waistband. “How many did you count, Mather?”“Three, sir.”“Only three? Not terrible odds.”“If you say so, sir.”“Do you hear that?” the highwayman whispered.Before Phoebe could reply, he hurried along the building to the rear. She took two quick steps to the corner at the front of the house and peered around the edge toward the road. The brigands were nowhere in sight.“Bloody hell,” her captor cursed, and Phoebe turned. “They left their mounts on the other side of the barn.” He hurried back to where she and his man stood. “Mather, your second pistol, if you please.”The older man handed over the Murdock Scottish flintlock pistol he gripped."You haven't got a spare pistol you can give me?" she asked. The highwayman's head snapped in her direction. "I need protection," she said."I am your protection."

Award winning author Tarah Scott cut her teeth on authors such as Georgette Heyer, Zane Grey, and Amanda Quick. Her favorite book is a Tale of Two Cities, with Gone With the Wind as a close second. She writes modern classical romance, and paranormal and romantic suspense. Tarah grew up in Texas and currently resides in Westchester County, New York with her daughter.
 Website: www.tarahscott.com
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/tarahscottauthor
Twitter: http://wefollow.com/TarahScott


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Bound Blog Tour by Jessica Chase

Title: BoundAuthor: Jessica Chase Genre: EroticTour Host: Lady Amber's Tours
ATHENA MONROE is a struggling author who has just come out of a relationship. RYDER PIERCE is a billionaire who is used to getting what he wants. But when Athena comes into his life, everything changes. Soon, the troubled Athena realizes that Ryder will stop at nothing to get her.
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Jessica-Chase/385714818202884?fref=tsAmazon: http://www.amazon.com/Bound-The-Series-ebook/dp/B00C5J6RHE/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1368050540&sr=1-1Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7024804.Jessica_Chase



















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The Forgotten Ones Freebie Book Blitz @laurahoward78

Title: The Forgotten Ones Author: Laura HowardGenre: New Adult Paranormal RomanceBlitz Host: Lady Amber's Tours
Allison O'Malley's plan is to go to grad school so she can get a good job and take care of her schizophrenic mother. She has carefully closed herself off from everything else, including a relationship with Ethan, who she's been in love with for as long as she can remember.
What is definitely not part of the plan is the return of her long-lost father, who claims he can bring Allison's mother back from the dark place her mind has gone. Allison doesn't trust her father, so why would she believe his stories about a long forgotten Irish people, the Tuatha de Danaan? But truths have a way of revealing themselves. Secrets will eventually surface. And Allison must learn to set aside her plan and work with her father if there is even a small chance it could restore her mother's sanity.
Sean jogged over with the bat and held it out for me, grinning. “Pick your pitcher, Allie-O.”

The smirk on Ethan's face was a challenge, and I couldn't resist. “Ethan has the ball, he can pitch to me.”

He made a big show of stretching and winding up before he finally tossed the ball at me.

I smacked the ball over the pool house, and Sean started shouting and cheering, making me smile. Ethan shook his head, but he was smiling. He clearly thought I would be an easy out.

I made it all the way to the final round, kicking Sean and Jeff out of the game. I'd played softball and run track all through school to pad my transcripts.

“You gonna let her win, E?” Jeff called, winking at me from the picnic table where he sat drinking a beer.

Ethan chuckled, showing off those damn dimples. He looked down at the ball in his hands and back up at me with a grin. “If I do, will you let me take you out?”

I snorted, trying to look braver than I felt. “Not a chance.”

“Wait a sec. I like this. Let's make a wager,” he said.

The guys were all hooting and hollering at me, my face was no doubt crimson.

“What do I get if I win?” I bit my lip, feeling all their eyes on me.

“I'm thinking, hang on,” He held up his finger, his brow furrowed in thought. His eyes widened with excitement, and I knew I would regret whatever he had to say.

“If I win, I get a kiss.” If it was possible, my cheeks grew even redder. They were all laughing and making cat calls now.

“And, if I win?” I looked up at his face.

He looked at me for a second, considering. “If you win, I won't ever ask you out again.”

This earned a chorus of “Yeah, right” and “No way” from the guys.

My mouth fell open, I had not been expecting that, but his face was sober. The laughing around us fell away for a second, and I could only stare at him feeling the color drain from my face. His expression remained solemn, and he met my gaze head on.

I nodded stiffly, and swallowed. “All right.”

His grin came back in full force. “Oh, and Al?”

I raised my eyebrows at him.

“I won't lose.”

Free on Amazon June 14, 15 & 16!! http://www.amazon.com/Forgotten-Ones-Danaan-Trilogy-ebook/dp/B00CKXODRG/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1370715320&sr=8-1&keywords=The+Forgotten+Ones
 Laura Howard lives in New Hampshire with her husband and four children. Her obsession with books began at the age of 6 when she got her first library card. Nancy Drew, Sweet Valley High and other girly novels were routinely devoured in single sittings. Books took a backseat to diapers when she had her first child. It wasn't until the release of a little novel called Twilight, 8 years later, that she rediscovered her love of fiction. Soon after, her own characters began to make themselves known. The Forgotten Ones is her first published novel.
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When Silver Moons Rise (The Lost Immortals 2) Blog Tour @kasonndraleigh

Title: When Silver Moons Rise (The Lost Immortals 2)Author: KaSonndra Leighebook release: January 20, 2013Paperback Release: April 21, 2013Genre: Young AdultTour Host: Lady Amber's Tours [image error] Facing an unstable future, Chela Prizeon leaves Castle Hayne and crosses over to enemy territory in pursuit of Faris--the boy of royal blood who is cursed by a bitter rival. But soon Chela learns that he has been taken deep into the treacherous frozen prisons--a majestic, but deadly place where people enter and are never seen again. To find the boy she loves, Chela must join forces with one of her greatest enemies. And even though she pulls strength from the good in her powers, she finds herself drawn to the dark side's temptation as well.

Narrated from both Chela's and Faris's point of view, this enchanting sequel to When Copper Suns Fall will take them on a voyage into unknown lands, where the dark, twisted, and revengeful wait to make this their most dangerous journey ever.

Please Note: This book contains mature content including profanity, drug/alcohol use, and sexual situations/language.
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Faris Hears Chela Call His Name
The shackles tighten around my wrists and ankles, digging deep into my flesh. A burn eases into my skin. I take a deep breath and wait for the fiery feeling to pass. Curse it. I can hardly move, let alone think. Chela, I’m coming for you. If you can hear me, know that I can survive this.I’ll do it for you…for us.A small band of light shines through the windows above me, The beam gives the metal chamber a touch of softness as a single ray of light shining on my face.“I ask you again, Faris Toulan. Is this girl worth your life? Your immortality? Or what’s left of it anyway,” Olivia hisses into my ear, a sneer on her face. I stay silent, refusing to give in. She grasps my chin and forces me to look at her face. In exchange for Olivia keeping quiet about Chela’s true identity, I’ve agreed to remain here as her prisoner. I glance deep in her empty eyes, and say: “Yes. Chela is everything to me. She’s all that you will never be. Your tricks can’t remove what I feel for her.” Icy eyes glare at me. Her harsh laughter rips through my soul. The kindness she showed me earlier disappears at once. I don’t care. All I hope for, all I ache for is a chance to see Chela again. I promised to return as the Protector she needed me to be. I refuse to go back as the thing she is cursed to destroy. That will only hurt her more than I’ve already done. I intend to keep my word. “I do hope you understand what you’ve agreed to do,” Olivia says in a low, but deadly voice, her breath on my ear, her cold fingers stroking my face. “By the time I’m done with you, there won’t be any other name you’ll call except mine. That’s how long you’ll beg for mercy.” She moves closer to my face and kisses my lips. I want to gag. Inside, I’m already screaming. But her torture, or whatever her plans are for me are nothing compared to facing a life without Chela. By thinking of our love, her laugh, even the way she sometimes annoys me, I can handle anything Olivia does. Hell most definitely exists. I’m fairly certain I’m about to experience it in full force.And then, I hear Chela call my name.

[image error] I live in the City of Alchemy and Medicine, North Carolina. I write about people doing fantastical things in magical worlds. Sometimes they fall for each other and make sacrifices for their friends. Oh, and sometimes they love music and nature too. I live with my two sons,a guinea pig, a cat, and two dogs. Now that I have completed my MFA in creative writing, I find that I have a little extra time to play CLUE more often. I live in an L-shaped house dedicated to my grandmother. It has a secret library complete with fairies, venetian plastered walls, and a desk made out of clear blue glass.

The Lost Immortals: When Copper Suns Fall is my debut novel.
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The Writer's Voice Blog Tour

Tour Co-hosts: Lady Amber’s Book Tours| The Writers Voice Blog The Writers Voice is a multi author blog where prominent authors from around the web come together and share their thoughts on all things literary or otherwise. Here is a peek at our team of authors!
Worldbuilding is such an important part of writing. What would your words of encouragement for aspiring authors be when it comes to developing their own worlds?
“Don’t be afraid of being called a day dreamer, it is a compliment. If you look at the world around you and see something more amazing than what everyone else around you sees – you’re doing it right.”
–Emma Michaels


“Don’t limit yourself to what is possible. Go beyond that and imagine a world where absolutely anything is possible. Think about why people read books instead of watch movies and try to give them the best story possible.” –Quinn Loftis

“When I start world building, I start with the physical environment that my characters reside in, climate, terrain, etc. Also, such things as the culture, the type of society, and there is much more. A lot is involved but to think it up is also part of why I like to write, to create my very own world is amazing and a lot of fun.”
–Victoria Simcox

“Go for it, if you can dream it, you can create it.” –Carlyle Labuschagne

“Spend a long time imagining the surroundings of your main characters. Daydream on the sofa about where they are and how their environment affects who they are and the events that take place. The world has to be well thought out and believable. The world of your book is almost like a character in the book itself. It’s the foundation, and without it the whole story will crumble.”
–Frankie Rose

“Make sure you have your own style when developing their own worlds and most importantly believe in everything you write no matter what.” –Tanya Contois

“That’s tough. Since I have such an active imagination, I see my worlds like a movie. If this is difficult for you, then research and tap into avenues that’ll grow and expand your world (that is if you’re not writing fantasy, paranormal or dystopian), otherwise your world could be present day or past, which might be easier for you to develop. Go with whichever feels easiest.”
–Brenda Pandos

“Write what you know and put a twist on it. You hear all the time that there are no original ideas. For the most part, that’s true! Start with an existing idea and make it your own.” –Raine Thomas

“Hehehehe…. I’m not going to be very helpful with this question since I usually dream up my worlds, literally, while I sleep. I find if I THINK about it too much it never happens. I just let it come to me.”
–Amy Maurer Jones


“When creating your own world, you first need to look at your own world. Take a good look, memorize it, and then completely twist it into something else in your head. Take basis off the real world and add in something different. Maybe instead of humans you have a community of shifters, or vampires, or fairies. How would an outsider react to such a community? Or a new member? To create a new world, you want to understand your current one to know where to start.” –Michael Loring
“For me, I write an outline for the book. I don’t always follow my original idea, my stories decide the direction and I go with the flow. Write daily, it doesn’t have to be your manuscript (however it helps). Write blogs, interviews, emails, whatever comes to mind. Keep your imagination alive.”
–Devyn Dawson


“Don’t be afraid to be imaginative in creating your world, but make sure that everything in your world has a reason for the way it is. At the moment, I’m writing mostly contemporary fiction, but I have written fantasy in the past and do still dabble in it a bit. When I’m working with magical worlds that aren’t like our own, I want the parts of that world to have logical reasons for why it is the way it is. When creating the Swans Landing series about mermaid-like beings called finfolk, I knew my people were able to move between living on land and in water whenever they wanted. So I did a lot of reading on amphibious creatures and also on mammals that live in the water. I wanted to know what life underwater was like for those mammals, and I also wanted to figure out exactly how my finfolks’ lungs worked to allow them to breathe oxygen from both air and water. The science behind the finfolk isn’t really described within the books, but I do know how their bodies work and how they breathe underwater because I took some time to figure it all out. Create the worlds of your imagination, but figure out the reasons why your world is the way it is.”
–Shana NorrisThank you for reading! We hope you will join us soon at The Writers Voicehttp://OurBooksOurVoice.Blogspot.com