Lynelle Clark's Blog, page 56

Blog Tour: Forbidden by Charlotte Stein. Under the skin Series #2. They say I need help. Another exorcism. This is not new. This is my life.

FORBIDDEN (Under the Skin Series #2)
They say I need help. Another exorcism. This is not new. This is my life. Today, I expect to suffer at the hands of a man as warped by superstition and fear as my mother. A man who will torture me in order to save me from things that don't exist.
But the man who actually comes to me is different.
Killian is good and decent, and he sees what's good and decent in me. And I don't mean for it to happen, but every time he looks at me, his gaze sets me on fire. He brings me to the light, gives me back my life. For the first time, I see a future for myself.
A future with him.
I burn for Killian-a man who's intent on protecting me. On healing me.
He doesn't get it. The only thing that can heal me is him. But Killian will soon be a priest. Untouchable. Forbidden.
How can I ask a man to choose between me … and God?



FORBIDDEN (Under the Skin Series #2)
AMAZON * B&N







Charlotte Stein is the acclaimed author of over thirty short stories, novellas and novels, including the recently DABWAHA nominated Run To You. When not writing deeply emotional and intensely sexy books, she can be found eating jelly turtles, watching terrible sitcoms and occasionally lusting after hunks.




For more on Charlotte, visit: www.charlottestein.netTwitter is @Charlotte_SteinFacebook: https://www.facebook.com/CharlotteSte... 





Chapter One
               I don’t know how long I’ve been up here this time. Feels like days, but it can’t possibly be. If it was days I would have peed myself. I would have made a mess or else starved to death, yet somehow I don’t even feel hungry. Though really is that any kind of surprise? My stomach is churning and churning at the thought of what might happen soon. Every time it comes into my head all of this sickness rises inside me, and only the idea of having to lie here with puke stinking me up puts a stop to it.The room is rancid enough as it is. Momma shut the windows ages ago, and the heat is making me sweat. I can see it shining on my bare arms and taste it salt-sharp on my upper lip, and whenever I wriggle I get a wave of that familiar smell. The one I never used to get when I was young and innocent, but now get all the time.I scrub and scrub and plaster my body in deodorant, but it doesn’t seem to matter. The ripe scent of my own body is still there, like a reminder of what makes Momma hate me now. Not that I need any kind of reminder, what with the ropes around my wrists and ankles and the fact that I’ve been here forever. Or the way she looks at me when she comes in to see if I’m contrite and ready to plead for forgiveness. Of course I always tell her I am, but whether I do or not don’t matter.How can you really get absolution for being possessed by the devil? I could say ten thousand Hail Marys and recite the Bible backward, and it wouldn’t make no difference. The demon she sees in me is invisible, and never seems to do nothing, so it’s not like I can just scrub him out or act like he’s not there. I can’t stop spinning the room around like in that movie with the girl who has no eyebrows.The room has never spun around.You ask me—if I am possessed, I got some raw kind of deal. Seems unfair to have to lie here and be so severely punished, when I don’t even get special powers. As far as I know I haven’t so much as spoken in tongues or bent over in some kind of weird way, and for darn sure my eyes have never turned black.So why do I have to suffer? She says it’s because I sinned, but I swear to God I haven’t said or done a single damned thing. Apart from right then, thinking damned. But I know the devil doesn’t jump into you for saying that. Most people don’t even think of it as a curse anymore. The girls I used to go to school with said all kinds of things, like the one with the F and the one with S and even worse—that one I’m not even going to give a letter to.But none of them ever had the devil eat her soul alive.And none of them had to wait all tied up in her bedroom, while some awful Priest comes to exorcise the evil spirits out of them. I can hear him now, climbing up the stairs. He sounds like judgment day coming to greet me, footsteps as heavy as the hooves of the devil I’m supposed to be possessed by. Each one slower than the last, until I have to hold my breath or else pass out from the tension. Why isn’t he racing up here? How come he’s dragging his feet like this?Because he wants to torment me before this has even begun, I think, and then all this water starts leaking out of my eyes. I pull at the ropes and wish for hands as small as mice just so I could get free. Though if I’m going to be wishing I’ll try for wings, because Lord I want to fly away from here. If I weren’t tied I’d jump right out the window, wings or not. I’d suffer two broken legs and a snapped neck, if it meant I didn’t have to face whatever awful thing he’s going to do to me. Beat me, most likely, because Momma would never get anyone who wasn’t going to beat me. He’s going to stripe me from here to tomorrow—which I could take.It’s the other stuff that worries me more. The boiling holy water and the drowning and the branding with crosses. She says he’ll do that, all of that, and I believe her so completely I make myself bleed. My wrists are bleeding and my ankles are bleeding and I’m crying when the doorknob starts to turn. I scream for someone to deliver me from this hell, and just as I do the door swings wide.He comes in, and after that I don’t know what to think. I go silent straight away, but not because I’m choked with fear. I would be if he was the image in my head—seven feet tall and old as sin, with eyes like winter at the ends of the earth. Then I’d be scared and screaming still. But he’s not that way at all. He looks like some ordinary man. He ain’t even wearing the robes and the collar and that. He has on this old beaten leather jacket—one that is far too hot for the weather here, if his flushed face is anything to go by—and even more astonishing a pair of jeans. I swear to God he’s wearing jeans like he just did some fancy thing that jeans-wearing people do.And he is young. He’s so young I don’t even realize what’s going on at first. I’m too busy gawking at his black, black hair and his lack of an angry beard and his kind of smooth everything. He steps forward and I marvel at how vigorous he is—not heavy and lumbering at all. And when he reaches for the rope around my right wrist, all I can do is look and look at his nice hands.They’re big, but they’re not the least bit wrinkled or riddled with veins. He could be just a few years older than me—maybe twenty-five? He could be younger, even though that seems crazy. Momma would never bring someone like this to deal with me. She would laugh at someone like this. She took us away from the church because the new Priest was all young and into love and forgiving, so this makes no sense.And then I realize what he’s doing, and it makes even less sense than that.He’s untying me. He’s doing it fast too—like he knows Momma might come in any second and stop him. Only I can see Momma in the door with her face all pinched and her hands wringing and wringing and she doesn’t take a single step toward him, so maybe his quickness is something else.It seems like he’s horrified about something.I think the horrified something might be me. He mutters a word as he sets me loose, and I’m pretty sure the word is barbaric. But him believing that and not wanting to thrash the devil out of me is so not what I’ve been thinking all this time that it kind of won’t sink in. I keep trying to look around him to Momma, waiting for her to step in.Or for him to change his mind. Maybe this is all just a trick or a trap, and suddenly he’ll get out a switch to line my skin. Could be he has something worse on him—like a thick leather belt or some kind of whupping device—and I can feel my body bracing for it. Hurt like a son of a b-i-t-c-h when Momma went at me with that rolling pin one time, so Lord only knows what will happen with this man wielding something bigger.He comes closer and I wince away from it.Only I’m wincing away from nothing at all. He doesn’t lash me or strike my face. He gets his hand underneath my bare bruised legs and the other around my back and then he says, “Put your arms around my neck.” Takes me a while to understand what he means, though. I sit there thinking—this must be some other new kind of punishment, and the minute I do as he asks, pain will make me pass out. He might have shockers behind his ears or something like it, and even after I find out he doesn’t I’m wondering.I wonder right up until he lifts me into his arms.After which my thoughts go kind of still and stunned. No one has ever lifted me up before. Could be my dad did once, but I can barely remember him. And Momma sure never—she would have hated touching me this much. She would have complained about me making her hands all dirty, yet somehow the Priest don’t seem to care.He holds me all firm against his good clean clothes—that leather smells like old books and the shirt underneath just the same. And when Momma moans and asks what he’s doing in a weak sort of voice, he answers like it’s only sensible.“I’m taking your daughter to the hospital,” he says, even though it must be miles to Sacred Heart and I will have to go all the way in his car in my worn thin housedress and my stink of a too-hot room and my red hair so lank it looks black.People will laugh at him, I reckon.Yet he doesn’t seem to care at all. He doesn’t even care when Momma goes to bar his way. He tells her, “Step aside, Mrs. Emerson,” and for a second I go hot and cold thinking of someone disobeying her and provoking her wrath. Then I remember: he isn’t just someone. He’s a man of God and he has all the things she believes in on his side, and no amount of hand-wringing can change that.She has to do as he says, and she does. She lets him go on through and down the stairs with me in his arms, though it’s only once we’re outside that I really feel what’s happened. The breezy autumn air hits my fevered skin and I breathe out for the first time in years. The breathing out sounds kind of like a sob. It comes out loud at any rate—so loud I know he must hear it for what it is. But if he does, he gives no sign. He just keeps on walking to his car, while I look back over at the clapboard place I lived in all these years. Somehow I understand that I’m not ever coming back to it.This is it now, this is my freedom, and it looks like a Priest in his old sedan, with my momma running out in her black skirts calling to me. “Dorothy,” she screams, “Dorothy,” and in my head I’m already turning into someone else. They will ask at the hospital and I will say.My name is Dot.








INTRUSION
 AMAZON * B&N


 Praise quotes from her last book, INTRUSION (Book #1)
Hot. Intense. Emotional. Sexy. Charlotte Stein writes provocative erotic romance so deliciously you never want her books to end!
   — New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Monica Murphy

“Stein’s surreal storytelling is elevated to a whole new level of madness with Intrusion…Stein has a delightfully peculiar voice and makes colorful use of stream of consciousness with Beth’s first person point of view. Readers won’t want to wait to see what she does next.”
   — Romantic Times BOOKclub, 4.5 stars Top Pick for INTRUSION

“Charlotte Stein put me inside the heroine’s mind and it was an amazing place to be. I never wanted to leave.”
   — New York Times and USA Today bestselling author Tessa Bailey“By seizing on the power of erotic language and allowing it to range from rhapsodic to raunchy, Stein has written a radiant ode to the mind-the biggest erogenous zone of all.”
   — Publishers Weekly (starred review) for INTRUSION

“A short, steamy, moody read that will have the reader taut with all kinds of delicious tension ....”
   — Jay Crownover, New York Times bestselling author

“Fans...will be mesmerized by Noah’s amazing intellect, social awkwardness, vicious inner strength, and palpable vulnerability. Readers will find themselves inwardly cheering for Beth—both a survivor and a worthy heroine. Although the relationship between these characters is a slow-build, their dynamic both in and out of bed is very raw and intense, creating strong sexual and emotional tension.”
      — Library Journal (starred review)


BLOG TOUR HOSTED BY:  





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Author: Samantha Fontien Series Tour: Dragonflies Trilogy Jan 27- Feb 6.

Dragonflies Trilogy
The Duncan Peters Files (Book 1 in Dragonflies Trilogy) 
 
From the Author of ‘How to catch Butterflies’ books 1 & 2 comes the first book in the Dragonflies Trilogy.Be prepared to read a story that will stay with you for the rest of your life.Duncan Peters is not your typical Alpha CEO, Playboy - He is a good man with a painful past. - Ex Military (SAS) now a Senior Partner at ‘Blackcard’.He is a natural born tactician with a license to kill….We also met his naughty best friend, Rubin Miller, who he meets one night at a rowdy University weekend bender.That night a friendship was made, that would last a lifetime…Rubin Miller is a ladies’ man, through and through, with an immense appetite for life. But most of all he is a man of honor. He too joins the military serving by his friends’ side, through thick and thin. There is nothing these two men have not shared, women included.Can these wild men ever be tamed?* This book contains Drama, Heartache and Mature content, intended for readers 18+ *  
 
 
The Rizzo Protocol (Book 2 in Dragonflies Trilogy)    

Feisty Rizzo is an elite ex hacker who loves to play games.Now she is a senior executive for ‘Blackcard’ and Duncan Peters ‘eyes in the sky’.With the world at her finger tips, she had what she would call an ‘uncomplicated love life’.But all of that is set to change.... Will an old flame or a new love, make her rethink her decision of choosing a career, before matters of the heart?Rizzo will have to make choices... Will she make the right ones?* This book contains Drama, Heartache and Mature content, intended for readers 18+ * 
 
 
 
Cousins The Next Generation (Book 3 in Dragonflies Trilogy)





Prepare for the end to the saga that is the ‘Peters family’…Duncan Peters is not your typical Alpha CEO, Playboy.- He is a good man. - Ex Military (SAS) now a Senior Partner at ‘Blackcard’.He is a natural born tactician with a license to kill….Life has transformed quite considerably for Duncan Peters.And change is very much in the cards for our hero...We now find him out of his comfort zone, mentoring his two boys into men.What will life have in store for the man who believes in taking Love, Friendship, Honour and Loyalty ‘above and beyond’...?Can he deal with it all in his normal smooth fashion... or will life again deal him blows that he will never recover from?This... IS the conclusion ofDRAGONFLIES Trilogy.* This book contains Drama, Heartache and Mature content, intended for readers 18+ *  
 
 
 
 

I’m a Happily Married, MUM of two. I LOVE Music… I should do as I am the daughter of Musicians; I was reared with a Guitar in one hand and a pen in the other.

I only wear one perfume.I'm a huge Titanic buff; seriously, I could do a Degree in it.My favorite museum is London's Natural History Museum. I could spend a whole day there quite happily.My Dad was in the RAF and was a huge Military buff, so that’s where I get all my military knowledge and interest... Years of conditioning bahahaha.
I named our puppy Rubin after a character in one of my books.
    
 

Book tour: A Dash of Desire by Charity Parkerson. He wants to tame her…She wants to corrupt him…But will they end up destroying each other?

BOOK INFORMATIONTITLE – A Dash of Desire SERIES – Spiced Life AUTHOR – Charity Parkerson GENRE – Contemporary Romance PUBLICATION DATE – 12/12/14 LENGTH (Pages/# Words) – 261 pages PUBLISHER – Punk & Sissy Publications COVER ARTIST – Charity Parkerson
BOOK SYNOPSIS He wants to tame her… After losing his wife to her wild ways at a young age, Tristan moved on to follow a higher calling. He finds comfort in helping others and has no intention of inviting drama back into his life. That is, until temptation blows into town. She wants to corrupt him… Riley is a foul-mouthed, bad-tempered, and bitter soul. Down on her luck and on the run from another terrible decision, the last thing she needs is a soul-saving hottie pushing his way into her life. But will they end up destroying each other? Taming Riley becomes an obsession for Tristan. With his reputation on the line and Riley’s heart on the table, can Tristan find a way to keep both? It only takes a dash of desire to ignite a flame when this savior and sinner collide. But this is one inferno that could end up destroying them both.
BUY & TBR LINKSAMAZON KINDLE US – AMAZON KINDLE CA – AMAZON KINDLE UK – AMAZON PAPERBACK – BARNES & NOBLES PAPERBACK – GOODREADS –  SHELFARI
EXCERPT

The chain rattled. “Riley, Brother Daniels’ truck is out front. Have you…” Tristan jumped away from Riley as Billy burst onto the scene. The woman froze, as she caught sight of him standing in the center of Riley’s bedroom. No doubt, he was also looking guilty as sin…and turned on. He definitely was that. “Oh. There you are.” “Riley fell,” he said without giving her a chance to question what she’d—no doubt—witnessed coming through the door. A loving expression touched her features as she eyed them both. “I’m not surprised. Poor girl. You wouldn’t believe how many calls I got from West Anaheim ER, letting me know my baby had broken another bone.” Billy’s voice hardened. “Especially, since my no-good sister, Marty…” “Billy, please?” Riley said, cutting her off. With a sheepish grin, Billy blushed. “Sorry darling. Sometimes I forget.” Riley crossed the room, and gave the older woman a quick hug. She toyed with Riley’s hair, tugging it over one shoulder and sliding her hand down the locks. “Anyhow,” she said, turning her attention back to Tristan. “My girl has a good job. She never would let me come take care of her, since she could afford to hire someone to do it.” Flashing Riley an exasperated look, she added, “This one has never needed anyone. Thank goodness, since Marty…” “Billy,” Riley said, reeling her aunt in, once more. “I’m sorry. It’s just with it being your birthday and her doing what she did, I just.” Tearing up, Billy covered her mouth. A sob still broke loose. Before anyone had time to react, she walked out, closing the door behind her as she left. Riley stared unblinking at the wood separating them from the rest of the world. “Wow.” Tristan was baffled by Riley’s obvious shock. As she turned wide eyes his way, her voice came out in a horrified whisper. “She was crying. I’ve never seen Billy cry. That’s the same woman who used to make me pick my own switch when I misbehaved.” A chuckle rose in Tristan’s throat. “I didn’t know it was your birthday.” Riley motioned toward the door, still seemingly floored. “She once beat a chicken to death with a shovel after it chased me down the driveway. I was scarred for years.” Tristan’s chuckle turned to a full-on laugh. “I’m being serious. She cooked him afterward. I haven’t looked at a drumstick the same since.” Tristan swiped at his eyes. “Happiness looks damn sexy on you.” He glanced away, uncomfortable with the change in topic. Happiness was one thing he knew little about. “Being in your company seems to have that effect on me,” he said, half hoping to fill the silence and half needing her to know the truth. “How old are you today?” He asked, changing the subject. “Twenty-eight. Why? Do you intend to spank me?” She sounded hopeful. There were no safe topics where Riley was concerned.

AUTHOR BIO
Charity Parkerson is an award winning and multi-published author with Ellora's Cave Publishing, Indie Publishing House LLC, and Punk & Sissy Publications. Born with no filter from her brain to her mouth, she decided to take this odd quirk and insert it in her characters.*Winner of 2, 2014 Readers' Favorite Awards *2014 Golden Ankh Nominee *2013 Readers' Favorite Award Winner *2013 Reviewers' Choice Award Winner *2012 ARRA Finalist for Favorite Paranormal Romance *Five-time winner of The Mistress of the Darkpath
AUTHOR FOLLOW LINKSAmazon Author Page – Website/Blog – Facebook – Twitter – Google+ - Pinterest – Tumblr – Networked Blogs – Goodreads – Shelfari – Coffee Time Romance – Ellora’s Cave –  Passionate Ink GIVEAWAY PRIZES1 winner will receive this prize pack: 1- autographed copy of A Splash of Hope, 1-“Team Naughty” tote, 1-audio copy of The Wizard & The Wanton, 2 autographed bookmarks, 1 “Sinner” t-shirt, and 1 pack of Ellora’s Cave Cavemen playing cards.
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Author spotlight: Karen Rose Smith. She is a USA Today best-selling and award-winning author. Her 86th novel, GILT BY ASSOCIATION, will be released in 2015 by Kensington Books.

Karen Rose Smith

Karen Rose Smith was born in the Susquehanna Valley of Pennsylvania. Although she was an only child, she remembers the bonds of an extended family. Since her father came from a family of ten and her mother, a family of seven, there were always aunts, uncles and cousins visiting on weekends. Family is a strong theme in her books and she suspects her childhood memories are the reason.

In college, Karen began writing poetry and also met her husband to be. They both began married life as teachers, but when their son was born, Karen decided to try her hand at a home-decorating business. She returned to teaching for a while but changes in her life led her to writing romance fiction. Now she writes mysteries and romances full time. She is a USA Today best-selling and award-winning author. Her 86th novel, GILT BY ASSOCIATION, will be released in 2015 by Kensington Books.

When she isn't writing, she cares for four rescue cats and a couple of strays, gardens, and cooks. Married to her college sweetheart since 1971, believing in the power of love and commitment, she envisions herself writing relationship novels, both mystery and romance, for a long time to come!


Ten Things About MeI was an only child who always longed for a sister.
 During my childhood I always had access to a relative's farm.
 This summer my husband and I took in a stray pregnant cat and helped deliver her kittens.
 When I was in my late twenties, I learned to swim and ride horses!
 I attended the Beatles concert at Dodger Stadium.
 With my cousin I wrote a script for The Monkees tv show.
 I wrote for six years and finished 13 manuscripts before I sold two books in one week to two different publishers.
 I use a tape recorder to write and like to tape on the patio on summer nights under the moon.
 I love 60's fashion.
 I'm a crazy cat lady!
Amazon ~ Goodreads ~ Website ~ Karen Rose Smith Mysteries Website
Join Karen Rose Smith's Street Team, Team Caprice


Staged to Death (Book 1) - on sale for only $2.99Amazon ~ Barnes & Noble ~ iTunesStaged to Death Book Trailer
Deadly Decor (Book 2) - on sale for only $1.99Amazon ~ Barnes & Noble ~ iTunes
Gilt By Association (Book 3)Amazon ~ Barnes & Noble ~ iTunes
Join the Gilt By Association Release Party
Drape Expectations (Book 4)Coming August 2015


Nathan’s Vow (Book 1)
Amazon ~ Barnes & Noble ~ iTunes ~ Smashwords Audio Book : Amazon ~ Audible ~ iTunes
Jakes’s Bride (Book 2)Amazon ~ Barnes & Noble ~ iTunes ~ Smashwords Audio Book : Amazon ~ Audible ~ iTunes
Always Devoted (Book 3)Amazon ~ Barnes & Noble ~ Smashwords Audio Book : Amazon ~ Audible ~ iTunes
Always Her Cowboy (Book 4)Amazon ~ Barnes & Noble ~ iTunes ~ SmashwordsAudio Book: Amazon ~ Audible ~ iTunes
Heartfire (Book 5)Amazon ~ Barnes & Noble ~ Smashwords Audio Book : Amazon ~ Audible ~ iTunes
Cassidy’s Cowboy (Book 6)Amazon ~ Barnes & Noble ~ iTunes ~ Smashwords Audio Book : Amazon ~ Audible ~ iTunes
Her Sister (Book 7)Amazon ~ Barnes & Noble ~ iTunes ~ Smashwords Audio Book : Amazon ~ Audible ~ iTunes

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Book Blitz: The other woman by Eve Rabi. Meet Rival and Scarlett. They used to be best friends, until Scarlett stole Rival’s husband. But unlike most wives, Rival refuses to turn the other cheek.

BOOK INFORMATIONTitle – The Other Woman Author – Eve Rabi Genre – Modern Day Romance Publication Date – 27 January 2015 Publisher –Eve Rabi Cover Artist – Eve Rabi But Link - Amazon Kindle
BOOK SYNOPSISMeet Rival and Scarlett. They used to be best friends, until Scarlett stole Rival’s husband. But unlike most wives, Rival refuses to turn the other cheek.RIVAL MURDOCH (The Wife)Not only did Scarlett steal my husband, she also helped herself to my children, my friends and shattered all my dreams. She just fell into the life I took years to build, and is blissfully happy, while I have to start my life all over again. How can I not be angry and bitter?These woman who steal husbands, destroy families and shatter dreams, why isn’t society doing something about it? Why are we allowing them to get away with it?People say, “Move on. Living well is the best revenge.”I don’t agree. I want revenge. It’s all I can think about.SCARLETT SMYTH (The Mistress) If Rival didn’t want to lose Bradley to me, she should have tried harder to be a better wife. She could have started off by losing weight. I mean, she was married to a handsome and charismatic man who was going to be Australia’s next Prime Minister, and she was a size twelve! Twelve. That’s a whopping size forty-two in Italy and a giant eight in the U.S.! A body for a Dove commercial.How dare she? How dare she have the arrogance to value bread and pasta and rice and noodles and potatoes and chocolate mousse over someone like Bradley Murdoch?I mean, look at Posh – she’s a size zero. Why? Because she appreciates David. She does not in any way jeopardize her position as Almost Royalty.And Angelina, clearly she forgoes carbs because those hip bones, they could put out Brad’s eyes, let me tell you. These women, they sacrifice to keep their men, to keep away predators like me and that’s how it ought to be.I’m a size six, by the way. That would make me a four in the U.S., a five in Japan, a two in Canada, a four in the UK and a mere thirty-two in Italy, making me an extra-small, everywhere in the world, get it? It’s important that you do, because I work hard at my centerfold figure and I do believe I deserve recognition for it.
AUTHOR BIOEve Rabi lives in Australia, but she was born in South Africa.She is the author of 25 books and is known for her kick-ass leading ladies, alpha males and no holes-barred love stories.Oh, and let’s not forget about humour, it’s a must in her books.To quote a smashwords.com reviewer: “When you pick up an Eve Rabi book, forget sleep. She writes gripping page turners that will keep you reading till the very end.”Page 6 of 9 Page 7 of 9
Books that, like GRINGA, are sure to offend, entertain and amuse readers in various parts of the globe.Please direct all hate mail and death threats to everabi2012@hotmail.com as she would really love to hear from you, good and not so good and please ...write a review.


WHERE TO FIND EVE RABI ONLINEWebsite – Facebook – Smashwords – Facebook – Twitter –  Pinterest GIVEAWAYWin a $20 Amazon gift card a Rafflecopter giveaway


 

Release day Blitz: The Fall of the Prodigal by Michelle Lindo-Rice. A condemned man, his two brides, and one untimely death. #Giveaway

Author is giving away two $10.00 Amazon Gift Cards. Two winners will be randomly chosen via rafflecopter. Enter contest below.Book Title: The Fall of the ProdigalPaperback: 288 pagesPublisher: Urban Books (January 27, 2015)ISBN-10: 1601626983ISBN-13: 978-1601626981Genre: Christian Fiction

Michelle Lindo-Rice enjoys crafting women's fiction with themes centered around the four "F" words: Faith, Friendship, Family and Forgiveness. Her first published work, Sing A New Song, was a Black Expressions featured selection. Originally from Jamaica West Indies, Michelle Lindo-Rice calls herself a lifelong learner. She has earned degrees from New York University, SUNY at Stony Brook, and Teachers College, Columbia University. When she moved to Florida, she enrolled in Argosy University where she completed her Education Specialist degree in Education Leadership. A pastor's kid, Michelle upholds the faith, preaching, teaching and ministering through praise and worship. Feel free to connect with her at michellelindorice.com You can read her testimony, learn about her books, PLEASE join her mailing list, or read a sample chapter at michellelindorice.com


A condemned man, his two brides, and one untimely death. Michael Ward is at the top of his game and he doesn't need anyone or anything. Money is his new best friend--until he's arrested for a heinous crime. As much as he hates to admit it, Michael needs his brother, Keith Ward, the man who stole his wife and children. Will Michael open his heart to forgive his brother? Verona "Tiger" Stachs has been Michaels' attorney for years. She's in love with him, but is tired of being treated as his guinea pig. A lapsed Christian, Verona finds herself being drawn closer to God. She thought she was through with God, but soon discovers He's nowhere through with her. Which relationship will she choose? Keith Ward's a prominent minister and family man, yet he yearns to rekindle his relationship with his brother. When Michael calls him explaining that he desperately needs his help, Keith jumps at the chance to set things right with Michael. Will Keith be able to lead Michael into the light?




 
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New Release: I think about you by KS Thomas. One's dream can be a funny thing. A collection of random thoughts. A compilation of your deepest fears and desires. A sign?

TITLE: I Think About YouAUTHOR: K.S. ThomasGENRE: Contemporary RomancePUBLICATION DATE: January 27, 2015COVER DESIGN: KG Cover ArtLENGTH: 50,000+ wordsCONTENT WARNING: Adult Content - Language/Situations



One's dream can be a funny thing. A collection of random thoughts. A compilation of your deepest fears and desires. A sign?Most days, Marissa leaves dream interpretation to the psychologists and psychics, but when her subconscious churns out a vision of her first love so real it jars her from her sleep, she can't help but wish she knew what it meant. Or at the very least, what the lingering feelings still present long after she's awake, mean.Drew isn't looking for signs. Mostly, he's just trying to avoid them. Like the street sign that marks the turn to her old house. Or the stop sign at the edge of town, reminding him where he belongs and what else is out there. Her. Marissa. She's out there. But that doesn't matter anymore.Until...
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Drew’s shoulders raised and his arms moved out ever so slightly, but he kept his hands safely tucked away in his pockets. “I'm glad you came over.”I wasn’t practicing the same restraint. I reached out and affectionately squeezed his arm. “Me too. I feel better having talked about some of this stuff.”His eyes darted back and forth between my hand on him and my face. “Hey, you want to go sit out on the deck? It's nice out tonight.”“Okay.” It was an abrupt change in topic, but maybe it was best not to dwell on the past any longer now that it had been resolved as much as it would probably ever be. Although it still left me with the lingering question, ‘Where did we go from here?’I followed him out back to a huge deck furnished with a hammock and several chairs. I went straight for the hammock and climbed in while Drew pulled up one of the chairs to sit beside me.“I can't believe you still have this thing. I used to love laying out here.” I swayed back and forth, completely cocooned in the softly weathered linen, staring out at the starlit sky.Drew’s mouth gave way to his half-smile. “I remember.”I kept swinging back and forth, feeling more content than I could remember feeling in a long time. “Drew. How come you never told me you bought that land?”He exhaled loudly, leaning back in his seat and kicking out his legs. “I was going to. Just never got around to it, I guess. I mean, at first I was just going to see if the bank would even give me another loan since my dad had just helped me buy this place. I didn't really think they'd say yes, but they did.” He moved his hand in the air like he’d thought they were nuts. “So, I made an offer. I went pretty low and I never thought they'd accept.” His hand went up again, signaling another surprise. “But they did and, next thing I knew, we closed on it and I owned ten acres of pasture, complete with a fishing pond.”“Why did you even want it?” He was on a roll already and I was determined to get him to spell out every last detail regarding the inner workings of his brain if I could.Staring out into the night, a distant look came over his face, like he was remembering the whole thing. “When I saw the for sale sign it sort of set this crazy plan I had into motion.” He grinned. A dopey, happy grin. “I could just picture myself buying it and, when the time was right, taking you there, getting down on one knee.” He turned to face me. “You know the drill.”I nearly flipped out of the hammock. “You were going to ask me to marry you?”He nodded. Apparently he saw no reason to hold back anything at this point. “That was the plan.”


UnhurtLost AvalonSave The DateI Call Him BradySaltyDriveBlood BoundLucky In LoveGetting LuckyCountry GirlsThis ChristmasIt's Kinda My ThingHeroes To Swoon ForSecret Hudson

Dog Lover who likes her pastries full of cream and sugar….oh…and I write some ;-) Aside from being an author, I am also a mom to a beautiful 5 year old little girl. I tell everyone I named her after my great-grandmother (because that’s the mature answer), but really, I named her after my favorite princess – just so happens I got lucky and they had the same name…If I wasn’t a writer, I would work on a horse ranch – I’m an animal lover (in addition to dogs, horses are at the top of my list). I wear flip-flops pretty much everywhere I go. I would rather stay awake until 5 am than get up at 5 am (years of bar tending have left their mark), if I can, I’m going to the beach AND I will always be nice to people who bring me chocolate…or coffee…if you bring me both, I’ll probably love you forever.A gypsy at heart, I write the way I live, following the story wherever it may lead, always ready to start the next one. This is clearly reflected in my body of work which to date includes everything from Children’s Lit to Thrillers. I happily reside in sunny Florida (for now) and always enjoy hearing from fellow readers!!

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Book Blast: Sanctuary by Pauline Creeden. Sanctuary crosses boundaries and borders and incorporates elements of all kinds of action and intrigue.

BOOK INFORMATIONTITLE – Sanctuary SERIES – Sanctuary AUTHOR – Pauline Creeden GENRE – YA Thriller/Science Fiction PUBLICATION DATE – Sept 2013 LENGTH (Pages/# Words) – 268 pages PUBLISHER – AltWit Press COVER ARTIST – Najla Qamber BOOK SYNOPSIS First Place Winner of 2014 Gold Award Readers Favorite YA Horror First Place Winner of 2013 Dante Rosetti Award in YA Fiction
What if the Biblical End Times unfolded in a way no one told you about and the rapture didn't happen before the tribulation began..."Makes you afraid of the end times again." - D. M. Dutcher for Sword Cross Rocket"Sanctuary crosses boundaries and borders and incorporates elements of all kinds of action and intrigue, from thriller-like adventure to a post-apocalyptic tale of life after aliens invade. Thus it will delight readers seeking something truly different, while disappointing those who anticipated a shallow, one-dimensional subject and story line." - Midwest Book ReviewLeft Behind for the Hunger Games generation
In a heart-racing thriller described as Falling Skies meet The Walking Dead, Jennie struggles to find a safe place for what’s left of her family. But it seems as though there is no place sacred, no place secure. First the aliens attacked the sun, making it dimmer, weaker, and half what it used to be. Then they attacked the water supply, killing one-third of Earth’s population with a bitter contaminate. And when they unleash a new terror on humankind, the victims will wish for death, but will not find it…When the world shatters to pieces around her, will Jennie find the strength she needs to keep going?BUY & TBR LINKS AMAZON KINDLE US – AMAZON KINDLE CA – AMAZON KINDLE UK – AMAZON PAPERBACK – BARNES & NOBLES PAPERBACK –  GOODREADS EXCERPT

When Jennie reached the back door, she saw them. Four large dog-like creatures with pinched faces like bulldogs and lion-like manes. They snarled, and one of them leapt at the window on the top half of the door when it saw her.

Jennie jumped back and fell hard on the cold tile floor. The bottle of painkiller bounced across the kitchen tiles. The creature slammed against the window a second time, cracking it. She blinked hard. Her heart sunk, and the hairs on her arms stood on end. A horrendous gargling howl rent the air, causing a shiver down her spine. She held her breath and waited for the creature to slam into the door again.

“What on earth?” she whispered to herself.

When the third attempt never came, she scrambled toward the door. Blinking hard, she used the door knob to help herself stand. Out the cracked window, her mother was still out of sight, but the last of the dogs headed across the field behind her backyard.

“MOM?” Jennie called out.

The rumbling faded, and the vibrations in her chest receded with the dogs. She pulled open the door and rushed onto their back deck. “Mom, where are you?”

When she reached the banister, she looked over the side. Her mom lay sprawled with one hand on the lattice. Blood gushed from Mom’s leg and her opposite arm. Jennie’s ears rang and flooded with every beat of her heart.

Jennie didn’t know how she got to the second floor of her house, but she found herself shaking her sleeping father. How had he slept through the rumbling? “Outside, it’s Mom…”

Her father leapt from the bed. Mickey, her little brother, lay asleep and undisturbed. Dad ran down the stairs and outside in his flannel pajama bottoms and white t-shirt. He scooped Mom up to his chest and carried her inside. Blood stained his shirt in crimson.

“Jennie, call 911!” Her father had said it at least three times before it finally registered in her brain.

She pulled the cell phone from her pocket, but it refused to connect. With a groan, she grabbed the cordless from the wall receiver, glad her heart stopped pounding in her head so she could hear.

“All operators are busy at this time,” a mechanical voice deadpanned, “Please stay on the line, and the next available operator will take your call.”

“They have me on hold, Dad. Should I hang up and try again?” She held the phone in both hands away from her face.

“No, just stay on the line.” Her father lifted the shredded jeans from Mom’s leg. “It looks like a shark bite. What on earth happened?”

Jennie took in the damage through tear-filled eyes. A huge chunk was taken from her mother’s calf, exposing the fibrous tendons that covered the bone in her leg. A bloodstain grew on the beige couch. Was she going to die? Panic rose up.

“What happened, Jennie?”

“I...I...They looked like lions, or dogs, or something. The rumbling shook the whole house…I tried to go outside to get Mom, but—” A sob blocked her throat.

Her father grabbed a throw pillow and held it against the leg. Mom’s exposed forearm laid across her chest in much the same condition as her calf.

“Grab me the duct tape.”

Jennie suddenly remembered the phone, put it back to her ear, and headed to the hall closet. She reached for the shelf above the jackets and grabbed the junk basket next to the toolbox.

“Please stay on the line. An operator will be with you shortly.”

She shoved the phone in the crook of her neck and fished through the box. Half the contents dropped around her feet. Who cares? When her fingers wrapped around the silver duct tape, a short-lived relief sent prickles down her arms. But the urgency gripped her chest in less than a heart beat, and she threw the junk basket on the ground with the rest of the items.

“Hurry, Jennie!” her father called from the living room. “And turn on the TV. Maybe they’ll have something about what’s going on.”

She handed her father the tape and turned toward the TV. The mechanical voice on the phone came through again, followed by more easy listening.

When she clicked on the TV, the shouting and wailing began before the picture warmed up on the screen. A sideways picture of New York City broke through, with the shaky voice of the newscaster voicing over.

“What we are watching now – I can’t believe it – is live footage of Times Square,” the newscaster’s voice paused for a deep breath. “We’ve lost our man on the scene and his camera man to what appears to be some kind of new alien creature. Just a short half-hour ago, the doors to the ship that hovered above Central Park opened and these dog-like creatures flooded out.”

Jennie couldn’t pull her eyes from the screen. She straightened and dropped the phone on the hardwood. The battery popped out and skidded across the floor.

AUTHOR BIOPauline Creeden is an award-winning author, horse trainer, and overall book ninja. She becomes the main character in each of her stories, and because she has ADD, she will get bored if she pretends to be one person for too long.Armored Hearts, her joint effort with author Melissa Turner Lee, has been a #1 Bestseller in Christian Fantasy and been awarded the Crowned Heart for Excellence by InDtale Magazine. Her debut novel, Sanctuary, won 1st Place Christian YA Title 2013 Dante Rosetti Award and 2014 Gold Award for First Place YA Horror Novel.AUTHOR FOLLOW LINKSWebsite - Facebook - Twitter - Goodreads -  Pinterest
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New release: Protective Hearts by DS Williams. It's a race against time to retrieve Finn's memories, keep her out of the Ripper's clutches, and discover the secrets of his identity.

After being kidnapped by the Chicago Heart Ripper, Finn O'Flaherty is his only surviving victim.
Rescued by her brother, Finn suffers heartache in the aftermath as she struggles to come to terms with what happened and battles the amnesia that prevents her from identifying the serial killer.
Caleb Sheppard is determined to protect Finn out of respect and a sense of duty towards his friend's younger sister. He suspects there is more to the prolific serial killer than meets the eye, and one question haunts him: Why was Finn kept, and not killed?
It's a race against time to retrieve Finn's memories, keep her out of the Ripper's clutches, and discover the secrets of his identity.
What Finn doesn't realize, is that Caleb and his family are hiding secrets of their own – some of which Finn may not be able to accept.

He stared at the finger of whisky
Glowing golden amber
in the bottom of the glass.
He focused on
his heart, his love, the link to her.
Finnola. Where are you?
“Finn! It’s okay. You’re safe now. He can’t hurt you anymore.”
Shep’s anxious voice reached me and I returned to present day in a rush, found myself wrapped firmly in his arms. I inhaled raggedly, my cheeks wet with tears.
Shep drew away, cupping his hands against my jaw tenderly. “It’s okay. It’s over now, baby.” He stroked his thumbs across my cheeks, brushing the tears away and fury was evident in his startling green eyes. “I won’t let him hurt you again, Finn. Not ever again.”
I drew a shuddering breath, inhaling the rich male scent of Shep’s skin, wondering abstractly what cologne he wore. Whatever it was, I loved it. A subtle mix of pine and bergamot, the aroma calmed me, soothed away the horror of what I’d heard and imagined in the darkness.
“I promise you. I won’t let him get to you. I swear I’ll protect you,” Shep said huskily, still brushing tears from my cheeks.
For a long moment, I watched him, welcoming the calm assurances he offered. Shep returned my gaze and the fury in his eyes faded, replaced with another emotion I couldn’t grasp. Inhaling another shaky breath, I watched Shep swallow deeply, his attention dropping from my eyes to my lips.
Shep suddenly cursed, turning away abruptly, and placing the kitchen bench between us. “Bad idea,” he muttered. “Drink your coffee, kitten. I’m heading up for a shower.”
I obediently picked up the coffee mug, holding it between my hands as both my mind and senses reeled. What just happened? For one second, I’d thought Shep was considered kissing me; in fact, I was positive the thought crossed his mind. Why did he pull away?
Shep strode away, leaving me alone with my tangled thoughts. With a sigh, I got up and went in search of something to eat, pushing the thought of Caleb Sheppard firmly to the back of my mind.
By the time I’d located a box of pop tarts and placed two in the toaster, I was convinced the moment with Shep was a figment of an overly stressed mind. I was pouring a second coffee when I heard a car in the drive, announcing Shelby and Taylor’s arrival.
Shelby greeted me with a hug and glanced around the dilapidated kitchen with unconcealed disgust. “It’s not too late, you know. You can still come back to Chicago with us,” she offered, a tiny crease wrinkling her smooth brow. “Ash can’t keep you here in Hicksville, if you don’t want to stay.”
“I’m fine,” I reassured her. “I like it here.” Catching the cynical roll of Shelby’s eyes, I placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “I want to stay, Shel. I feel safer here.”
It was true, even if Shelby didn’t believe me. I couldn’t go home; the killer knew where I lived. After being released from hospital, I’d given up the lease on my apartment. Although living there had been wonderful, I would never feel safe there again.
After the kidnapping, I’d stayed with Shelby’s parents, who welcomed me with open arms and warm hearts. It was exactly what I needed, Shelby’s parents had always treated me as a second daughter, and their love, and support, was vital in the first few dreadful weeks after Bryan’s death. Ash wasn’t convinced of my safety in their suburban home however, insisting on this move to Massachusetts. Even Chicago’s finest wouldn’t know where I was and Ash had taken a lot of heat for his decision. I was the only living witness to the Ripper’s murderous activities—if they caught him, my testimony would ensure a death sentence.
If I could remember enough to be any help.
“I want you close to us, Finn,” Shelby persisted. “If he finds out where you are, you haven’t got any protection out here! There isn’t even a phone for Christ’s sake!”
“She’s got a cell,” Ash countered, walking into the kitchen. “She’ll be in constant contact with Shep and me.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead and gave me a reassuring squeeze as he met Shelby’s gaze. “Trust me, Shelby. This is the safest option for Finn right now.”
“Finn needs her friends around her!” Shelby argued vehemently, crossing her arms over her chest. “She’s fragile right now, you know that Ash! How can she possibly be comfortable out here alone?”
“She’s going to be fine. We’ve talked about it and Finn and I agree this is the smartest option,” Ash responded calmly. “You need to trust me on this, Shelby. Having her stay in Chicago is dangerous. We haven’t even got a handle on the Ripper’s identity.”
“So leaving her to fend for herself is the sensible idea? You aren’t giving me much confidence in the abilities of Chicago’s finest!”
“You’re beginning to piss me off, Shelby,” Ash growled. “Finn knows she’s secure here. There’s a security system, she’ll be in constant contact with me, and if there’s the slightest sign of trouble, I’ll have the Rockport Deputies on the doorstep, faster than you can take a breath.”
“I’m pissing you off?” Shelby said incredulously. “This isn’t about you, Ash! Finn needs to be with people she knows!”
“Could we stop talking about Finn like she isn’t even here?” I muttered miserably. Shrugging free from Ash’s arm, I pulled the pop tarts from the toaster and threw them onto a plate. “When did this become a situation in which I have absolutely no control?”
“When you were taken by the Ripper, kitten.”
Shep stood in the entrance, his dark hair damp from the shower. He gazed at me calmly, his expression impassive and for a long moment I stared at him, frustrated by what I’d lost. My life had been whole, complete before this happened. I’d been happy and confident, in charge of my own decisions. Having that control taken away was a bitter pill to swallow and I stalked from the kitchen, stomping through the sun porch and onto the balcony. I slammed the door behind me and was glad of it, wanted the others to know how angry I was.
The temperature was cool, the sky overcast despite it being the middle of summer. A vigorous breeze blew hair around my face as I leaned on the handrail, watching water crashing onto the rocks below. The house stood at the edge of the cliff, looking out across the rolling Atlantic. The smell of seawater reached my nostrils and I inhaled deeply, calmed by the rugged tranquility of the landscape. On both sides of the house, the forest almost touched the edges of the cliff, leaving a narrow pathway that snaked along the rocks. Majestic pines stood tall and thick, making it possible to believe this was the only inhabited building on earth.
Rebel crept up beside me, dropping to his haunches by my leg. Since waking this morning, he’d been constantly at my side, and I welcomed his quiet company. Rubbing a hand idly across his head, I found his fur was smooth and silky beneath my fingers. “I wish they would go away and leave us alone,” I told the wolf as I scratched behind his ears, “they’re all gonna drive me nuts.”
“You really mean that?”
Startled by the sound of Shep’s deep voice, I whirled around to face him. “Stop creeping up on me!” I snapped angrily.
Shep shrugged indifferently, leaning against the weathered railing beside me. “Sorry, kitten. Wanted to check if you were okay.”
“I’m fine,” I muttered. I’d assumed Shelby would come search me out and Shep’s sudden appearance had me unbalanced. “And stop calling me kitten.”
Shep shifted against the railing to face me, his green eyes intent. “I’ve always called you kitten.”
I crossed my arms against my chest. “Yeah, well you can cut it out. I’m not your damn kitten.”
“No,” he retorted mildly. “When you’re in a mood like this, you’re more like a tiger.”
“Go away, Shep.”
He reached into the pocket of his shirt, pulling out a packet of cigarettes and lit one, inhaling deeply. “Why are you so angry with me, Finn?”
“I thought you gave up smoking?” I retorted sharply, watching as he blew perfect smoke rings, which dissipated rapidly in the brisk breeze.
“I did. Having you kidnapped by the Ripper tested my resolve.”
“Why the hell would you care?”
Shep’s eyes darkened and he scowled. “Of course I care, Finn.”
“Well you can relax, I’m perfectly fine. Go back to Chicago and whichever bimbo you’re banging currently.”
Shep dragged on the cigarette as he considered my words. “Sounds a bit like jealousy to me, kitten.”
I turned and stalked along the balcony to escape him. The last thing I needed was an argument with Shep, which skirted this close to personal issues. I’d kept my feelings secreted away, but the earlier moment inside the house, combined with shredded nerves was making me careless.
Instead of taking the hint, Shep followed to where I stood gazing across the ocean. “Go away, Shep. I don’t want to talk to you.”
“I need to teach you the commands for Rebel.”
With an exasperated sigh, I turned around, searching his eyes for the truth. “Were you going to kiss me this morning?” I questioned bluntly.
For almost a minute, I thought he wouldn’t answer, but he inhaled heavily and his expression softened. “I thought about it,” he admitted huskily.
“But it’s a bad idea?”
His gaze flickered across to the crashing waves, avoiding eye contact. “Yeah. It’s a lousy idea.”



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D.S. Williams is the author of the supernatural romance series 'The Nememiah Chronicles'.
Wife and mother to four demanding teenagers, D.S. Williams started writing at the age of five, when life was simpler and her stories really didn't have to make much sense. When you're five, happily ever after always ended the story and how you got there didn't matter so much.
Older and wiser, D.S. Williams has continued to write... and write... and write. With the support and encouragement of her husband and friends, she has finally come to the conclusion that she can't keep hiding from the world forever and should try sharing the numerous novels which have been written over the past 40+ years.
D.S. Williams enjoys writing (obviously), reading (voraciously) and making lists (obsessively). She's enjoyed a lifelong addiction to foods starting with 'ch' - cheescake, chocolate and chips - and when it comes to books, she loves a really good cliffhanger. Be warned!
She shares her life with her husband of twenty eight years, the Gang of Four and the current furry residents, Tuppence the Groodle and Angus the Bull Mastiff.


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The Nememiah Chronicles
Knowledge Revealed ~ Knowledge Quickening
Knowledge Hurts ~ The Knowledge of Love





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Book Blast: Bite the Big Apple is finally here! The fourth installment of the Baby Girl series by Elle Klass.

Cleo was abandoned at 12 and left to fend for herself. Now grown and coming full circle in book 4 she finds answers to the questions that have haunted and plagued her existence.


Blurb:
Cleo, masquerading as Shanna, is hot on the trail of learning her identity. After spending a lifetime living lies she now finds her biological family, and learns the truth about her birth. Why she was kidnapped at the hands of Perdy and why Slug hunted her down; killing her one true love.

Excerpt 1:
“Did you know my son?” The voice startled me out of my thoughts of Einstein. I looked up from my solace to see who I assumed was his mother. Her hair was blond like Einstein’s only she had streaks of white. The skin around her gentle eyes bore webs in the creases. She too was tall and thin. He looked much like her.

“No, I didn’t know him, but have heard what happened. I think it… is heartbreaking… what happened. I had a friend who… I just wanted to visit and pay my respects.” I wanted to tell her ‘yes, I loved your son’ but couldn’t bring myself to. Instead, I made up yet another story.

“My son was a very special young man. He wanted to do incredible things.” He did do something incredible. He loved and took care of me, but I didn’t say that to her.

“Do you mind me asking…? Do you know why he ran?” The questions ran out of my mouth like water from a hose. I kicked myself mentally for being so insensitive.

“I don’t feel that is your business.” The pain in her eyes was evident, although she didn’t ask me to leave. Maybe she needed to talk about it, wanted to talk about it. I needed to talk about it and didn’t want her running off so I continued.

“I’m sorry. I had a friend who ran and I don’t know why. Why kids leave a good home. You seem like such a nice woman, a good mother. My friend also had a good family but still he ran.”


I breathed a silent sigh of relief when she continued. “It seems ridiculous now. I can’t seem to forgive myself. We didn’t always see eye to eye with Burke.” For a long time we just stood there, saying nothing, each of us deep in our own sorrow for this lost young man. 

Excerpt 2:
The following day, when I came back from lunch, a man was waiting in the office, reading a paper. As I came through the door, he stood and turned towards me. A shockwave of terror went down my spine and I felt frozen in place. It was the creepy man from the plane the one who followed me in Paris and sent Halette’s body down the river, Mr. Dancy Eyes. He found me and now my time was up!

Living in New York, working for the people who wanted to kill me, I was in the pit of the lion’s den and preferred not to be their next meal, so I started carrying a knife. Clutching my purse housing my blade closely and replaying the self defense skills Sam had taught me in Paris through my mind, I felt relatively safe. They hadn’t failed me yet, although a six foot man would be much harder to take down than a five foot woman. I wasn’t going without a fight. I kept my purse close. Doing my best to hide my nervousness I asked, “Do you have an appointment sir?”

He placed his paper on the chair beside him and stood up. I braced myself. Then he spoke. “Yes, I’m Mitchel Strat I spoke with William this morning and he asked me to meet him here at one o’clock.” The left side of his lips turned up in a quirky sly smile giving away his recognition of me.


“He isn’t back from lunch yet. Please take a seat.” I offered and quickly took my own seat behind my desk. I dropped my purse into my desk drawer and slipped the knife out, placing it on top of my purse while leaving the drawer open slightly.

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Social Media Links:
Website- https://elleklass.weebly.com
Blog- https://thetroubledoyster.blogspot.com
Goodreads- https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7216745.Elle_Klass
Cleo's Pinterest Page- http://www.pinterest.com/elleklass/cleos-favorites/
Twitter- https://twitter.com/Elleklass
Facebook- https://www.facebook.com/ElleKlass