R.E. Hargrave's Blog, page 332
February 23, 2016
#TeaserTuesday #Author_Author Hidden Threat by Sherri Hayes
Release Date: January 28, 2016Genre: Romantic Suspense
Cali Stanton has one goal in life, being a doctor. She has spent the last two years helping the less fortunate in Africa. It’s a job she loves and intends to do for the foreseeable future. That is until she receives a call from her father saying he’s been injured and needs her back in Chicago. Less than a week later she finds herself behind her father’s desk at Stanton Enterprises, running the family business…something she never wanted to do. But how could she say no to her father when he insists that she is the only one he can trust?
Matthew Andersen and his brother, Jason, have spent the last two years managing security at Stanton Enterprises. However, someone is determined to take down the company and with it its acting CEO, Cali Stanton.
Cali and Matthew must work together to find out who is behind the threats to not only the company but to Cali herself while they fight their growing attraction for each other. Can they figure out the hidden threat before it’s too late?
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He scanned her face as if he were looking for the answers to solve the world’s deepest mysteries. “Cali?”“How many times?” she asked. “How many times and then you just close down and act like nothing happened?”“Three,” he said, his voice flat.She stepped closer and looked into his eyes. She hadn’t expected him to answer her. Or if he did, she was expecting something more along the lines of, ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about.’Matthew met her gaze with firm determination. “In my office.”He took a step closer. “In your office.”Cali watched the movement of his throat as he swallowed. The room seemed to be getting warmer.Matthew took another step, closing the distance between them. “Last night.”Her heart was hammering in her ears. He was right in front of her now. Close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off him. Close enough that she could smell the cologne he was wearing.“That’s how many times I’ve almost kissed you,” he whispered, his breath ghosting across her face, his lips mere inches from hers.She couldn’t pull her gaze away from his. “Four.” He said it so soft she could barely hear.Cali’s heart skipped a beat and it felt as if all the air had been sucked out of the room. He tilted his head forward, bringing their lips even closer. “Tell me no, Cali. Tell me to stop.”About The Author
Sherri spent most of her childhood detesting English class. It was one of her least favorite subjects because she never seemed to fit into the standard mold. She wasn't good at spelling, or following grammar rules, and outlines made her head spin. For that reason, Sherri never imagined becoming an author.At the age of thirty, all of that changed. After getting frustrated with the direction a television show was taking two of its characters, Sherri decided to try her hand at writing an alternate ending, and give the characters their happily ever after. By the time the story finished, it was one of the top ten read stories on the site, and her readers were encouraging her to write more.Since then Sherri has published several novels, many of which have hit the top 100 in their category on Amazon. Writing has become a creative outlet that allows her to explore a wide range of emotions, while having fun taking her characters through all the twists and turns she can create. You can find a current list of all of Sherri’s books and sign up for her monthly newsletter at www.sherrihayesauthor.com.
PROMO TOUR: Moonbeams of Unintended Consequences by Muffy Wilson
GENRE: Contemporary Romantic ~ Romantic Erotica 
THAT night...SHE wore a flowing, form fitted white spaghetti strapped gown that cascaded in tumbled silken folds to her abdomen and revealed her breath in the soft rise of her alabaster breasts. Her eyes reflected an emerald depth with gold flecks that edged to hazel and were framed by neat, arched brows that narrowed to her temples where her heartbeat announced the rhythm of her life. Her only adornment was a starkly white gardenia nestled in the curves of her auburn curls. The heavy floral fragrance of the corsage announced her arrival as she glided elegantly to her aisle and settled, like a dove, into her center seat. She was alone...but not for long. Would she regret her indulgence?HE was a towering, self-assured giant of a black man, chest broad and arms outstretched in opulent black leather. His dark mahogany eyes locked irresistibly onto her and declared his desire. The opera house erupted with his full bass-baritone harmony. His musical seduction began, and his hypnotic gaze was met by her eager response as she answered his desire with a blush. His hypnotic gaze met her heated blush with hunger.THEY spent an insatiable night together in Room 457 of the Historic Whitcomb Hotel locked in a magnetic embrace riding moonbeams of passion and ribbons of desire. He took her to the edge, to a special volcanic place inside, somewhere she had never before been and never been since: fiery, impatient, burning, yearning. That magnetic connection fueled a love that wove them irretrievably together in ways that only the future would disclose--a future neither of them ever anticipated.Would the only man she could turn to help, as the secrets of the past reveal her betrayal?
“A bientot, mem’selle,” he had said. She hung on every word with rapt expectation for their next meeting as he moved into the crowd of admirers.She watched as he worked the room, seducing male and female alike with his charisma and brilliance. He was a master in the simple ministration of his charm. He spoke with confidence, smiled at nonsensical nervous banter and made everyone most relaxed in his presence with an effortless touch.The night edged on and she resigned she was like all the others, seduced by the sheer presence of the man. She sought out the Morrisons and bid them a grateful goodnight. She went into the library where her wrap was hung. A manly black hand extended and took it from her grip and as she spun, he curled her into his embrace with her shawl.“My room key at the Hotel Whitcomb. The town car service I called to take you there is waiting outside. Room 457. Have I presumed too much, mem’selle?” as he pressed himself into her body and the key card into her hand. The low melodious tone of his voice melted any thought of resistance.“I, ah…No, you have not presumed beyond expectation. I long to taste you; I ache to feel you inside me, truly, and I thank you for your discretion. The Morrisons are long time friends of my parents who don’t yet consider me a grown woman,” she smiled into his down-turned eyes and smelled his heat.He ran his fingertips from the wrap on her shoulder down the inside of her arm to the soft swell of her breast and lingered. His fingers caressed her naked flesh under her arm above the cut on the satin of her gown. Her knees buckled under the weight of her desire and he caught her as she fell into his full embrace.“Oh, God,” she breathlessly gasped and looked up into his dark eyes. “Do all women respond to you like this?”“You are not all women. Go, now. I will be there within the hour. Sooner if I can get myself out of here. Room 457, do not forget. It isn’t written on the card.” He bent and put his full lips, so soft, warm and pliant, on hers in a sweet parting kiss.Jordan reached up and touched his ebony cheek, in a promise, then left for the town car waiting out front.* * * * *When he arrived, he wore a black, red silk lined cape black as he. He shed it to the easy chair and crossed the room in three long strides. He cupped her left cheek in his right palm, magically raised her to her feet in one motion, clasp her flute of champagne in his left hand, then set it on the table. He wrapped his left arm around her waist and pulled her into him and off her feet with a kiss. She melted to his will, sharing it beyond measure.She thought she died in his embrace, time so seemed to arrest. And in some ways, she did die. She relinquished all that was she, opened herself to him and him alone in ways she had never before done or felt. She was electrified by his touch, magnetized by his kiss - destined to be his.No, she did not die in his embrace but came alive in his arms.
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Muffy, author of provocative romance about love, sex, hope and passion, was born in Texas to traditional parents. With two older brothers, she was the youngest, the family "princess," indulged and pampered. Her father was a career Colonel and pilot in the U.S. Air Force which required the family to travel extensively. Muffy spent her formative years in Europe and 'came of age' in France which forged her joie de vivre and love for books, writing and education. Married and living in the tropical paradise of SW Florida along the Gulf Coast, Muffy dabbles in real estate, writes and enjoys life in the sun with her husband and wee Havanese pup, Burt. ~ Live, Laugh, Love with PassionWebsite ✯ Blog ✯ Twitter ✯ AmazonAuthorPage ✯ DitterVerse ✯ Facebook ✯ FBFanPage ✯ YouTubeTrailers ✯ MailingList ✯ Google+ ✯ LinkedIn ✯ Tumblr ✯ Pinterest ✯ Triberr ✯ TSU ✯ Wordpress ✯ Ganxy ✯ XinXii ✯ Kobo ✯ iTunesBooks ✯ Barnesand Noble ✯ AllRomanceeBooks ✯ Smashwords ✯ Goodreads ✯ Yellow Silk Dreams Publishing ✯ The Romance Review ✯ Authorgraph ✯ AuthorsInfo ✯ Manic Readers ✯ The Muffy Wilson Daily ✯ Muffy Wilson Literotica ✯ Cheerleaders in Heat News
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GENRE: Contemporary Romantic ~ Romantic Erotica THAT night...SHE wore a flowing, form fitted white spaghetti strapped gown that cascaded in tumbled silken folds to her abdomen and revealed her breath in the soft rise of her alabaster breasts. Her eyes reflected an emerald depth with gold flecks that edged to hazel and were framed by neat, arched brows that narrowed to her temples where her heartbeat announced the rhythm of her life. Her only adornment was a starkly white gardenia nestled in the curves of her auburn curls. The heavy floral fragrance of the corsage announced her arrival as she glided elegantly to her aisle and settled, like a dove, into her center seat. She was alone...but not for long. Would she regret her indulgence?HE was a towering, self-assured giant of a black man, chest broad and arms outstretched in opulent black leather. His dark mahogany eyes locked irresistibly onto her and declared his desire. The opera house erupted with his full bass-baritone harmony. His musical seduction began, and his hypnotic gaze was met by her eager response as she answered his desire with a blush. His hypnotic gaze met her heated blush with hunger.THEY spent an insatiable night together in Room 457 of the Historic Whitcomb Hotel locked in a magnetic embrace riding moonbeams of passion and ribbons of desire. He took her to the edge, to a special volcanic place inside, somewhere she had never before been and never been since: fiery, impatient, burning, yearning. That magnetic connection fueled a love that wove them irretrievably together in ways that only the future would disclose--a future neither of them ever anticipated.Would the only man she could turn to help, as the secrets of the past reveal her betrayal?
“A bientot, mem’selle,” he had said. She hung on every word with rapt expectation for their next meeting as he moved into the crowd of admirers.She watched as he worked the room, seducing male and female alike with his charisma and brilliance. He was a master in the simple ministration of his charm. He spoke with confidence, smiled at nonsensical nervous banter and made everyone most relaxed in his presence with an effortless touch.The night edged on and she resigned she was like all the others, seduced by the sheer presence of the man. She sought out the Morrisons and bid them a grateful goodnight. She went into the library where her wrap was hung. A manly black hand extended and took it from her grip and as she spun, he curled her into his embrace with her shawl.“My room key at the Hotel Whitcomb. The town car service I called to take you there is waiting outside. Room 457. Have I presumed too much, mem’selle?” as he pressed himself into her body and the key card into her hand. The low melodious tone of his voice melted any thought of resistance.“I, ah…No, you have not presumed beyond expectation. I long to taste you; I ache to feel you inside me, truly, and I thank you for your discretion. The Morrisons are long time friends of my parents who don’t yet consider me a grown woman,” she smiled into his down-turned eyes and smelled his heat.He ran his fingertips from the wrap on her shoulder down the inside of her arm to the soft swell of her breast and lingered. His fingers caressed her naked flesh under her arm above the cut on the satin of her gown. Her knees buckled under the weight of her desire and he caught her as she fell into his full embrace.“Oh, God,” she breathlessly gasped and looked up into his dark eyes. “Do all women respond to you like this?”“You are not all women. Go, now. I will be there within the hour. Sooner if I can get myself out of here. Room 457, do not forget. It isn’t written on the card.” He bent and put his full lips, so soft, warm and pliant, on hers in a sweet parting kiss.Jordan reached up and touched his ebony cheek, in a promise, then left for the town car waiting out front.* * * * *When he arrived, he wore a black, red silk lined cape black as he. He shed it to the easy chair and crossed the room in three long strides. He cupped her left cheek in his right palm, magically raised her to her feet in one motion, clasp her flute of champagne in his left hand, then set it on the table. He wrapped his left arm around her waist and pulled her into him and off her feet with a kiss. She melted to his will, sharing it beyond measure.She thought she died in his embrace, time so seemed to arrest. And in some ways, she did die. She relinquished all that was she, opened herself to him and him alone in ways she had never before done or felt. She was electrified by his touch, magnetized by his kiss - destined to be his.No, she did not die in his embrace but came alive in his arms.
AMAZON ✯ SMASHWORDS ✯ B&N ✯ KOBO ✯ GANXY ✯ ALL ROMANCE BOOKS ✯ iTUNES ✯ XINXii ✯ GOODREADS
Muffy, author of provocative romance about love, sex, hope and passion, was born in Texas to traditional parents. With two older brothers, she was the youngest, the family "princess," indulged and pampered. Her father was a career Colonel and pilot in the U.S. Air Force which required the family to travel extensively. Muffy spent her formative years in Europe and 'came of age' in France which forged her joie de vivre and love for books, writing and education. Married and living in the tropical paradise of SW Florida along the Gulf Coast, Muffy dabbles in real estate, writes and enjoys life in the sun with her husband and wee Havanese pup, Burt. ~ Live, Laugh, Love with PassionWebsite ✯ Blog ✯ Twitter ✯ AmazonAuthorPage ✯ DitterVerse ✯ Facebook ✯ FBFanPage ✯ YouTubeTrailers ✯ MailingList ✯ Google+ ✯ LinkedIn ✯ Tumblr ✯ Pinterest ✯ Triberr ✯ TSU ✯ Wordpress ✯ Ganxy ✯ XinXii ✯ Kobo ✯ iTunesBooks ✯ Barnesand Noble ✯ AllRomanceeBooks ✯ Smashwords ✯ Goodreads ✯ Yellow Silk Dreams Publishing ✯ The Romance Review ✯ Authorgraph ✯ AuthorsInfo ✯ Manic Readers ✯ The Muffy Wilson Daily ✯ Muffy Wilson Literotica ✯ Cheerleaders in Heat News
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February 22, 2016
RELEASE TOUR: Honor roll by Kelly Collins
When do you become the sum of your parts?Drop dead gorgeous, kind to a fault and good in bed, twenty-six-year-old graduate student Luca Gregorio meets all the requirements for The Dean’s List, a university society that offers alumni anything they desire—for a price. Weeks from graduating, Luca loses his most valuable client. Determined to graduate debt free, he needs new patrons to cover his shortfall. His once easy job at Concierge Services becomes complicated once he meets Mim Knight, a woman he can’t ignore.She was worth more.Cultured and beautiful Mim Knight isn’t looking for anything but a quick end to a frustrating workday when Luca Gregorio shows up on the other side of her desk. Despite his too-good-to-be-true looks, he’s different from the trust fund boys she’s used to. He’s fearless, genuine, and sexy as hell.They say money is the root of all evil, but they’re wrong.Drowning in lies of omission, Luca knows one misplaced step will lose Mim forever, but like his dream of financial freedom, he can’t let her go. In the world of commodities, everyone has something to sell. What price do you demand for your honor? What price do you put on love?
“Who is she?” Jade asked.“That's Mim.” When I closed my eyes, I could see her smile and hear her laughter. “She’s the assistant for my new professor. She’s different. Bad attitude. Cute smile. Sexy accent.”River reached across and held my hand. “I’m so happy for you.”“It’s not like that. I asked her to dinner and she told me I was taking her out on Thursday. So now I have to decide if I’m going to show.” Deep inside I knew I’d go because even though Mim was frustrating in the few encounters I had with her, she was the realest thing I had right now besides these two.Jade sat up and leaned in. “I call bullshit. You get a soft, warm look on your face when you say her name.”“She says she loves Italian.” I bit my lip in that sexy way women liked and winked at my friends.“Yes, but you can love Italian, or you can looove Italian. Which is it going to be?” River asked.
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Kelly Collins writes with the intention of keeping the love alive. Always a romantic, she is inspired by real time events mixed with a dose of fiction. She encourages her readers to reach the happily ever after but bask in the afterglow of the perfectly imperfect love. Kelly lives in Colorado with her husband of twenty-five years. She loves hockey, shiny objects and has a new found appreciation for green smoothies. Kelly has a landing page that hosts all her books. AMAZON ✯ WEBSITE ✯ FACEBOOK ✯ GOODREADS ✯ TWITTER
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February 20, 2016
RELEASE TOUR: Darkness undone by Georgia Lyn Hunter
A fading realm, a warrior bound, and the woman who will save them both… Bound to a vengeful goddess, immortal warrior, Reynner, has little time for the fairer sex. The last thing he wants is to be aligned with another female, even if she is the key to finding an artifact and saving his realm. But his stone-cold resistance is tested, his attraction undeniable for the feisty mortal, until she demands the one thing he cannot give her…his trust. Eve Leighton avoids intimacy of any sort after an accident in her teens left her with a painful ability to see into another’s mind through physical contact. When an ice-cold warrior claims she is his world’s savior, she’s intrigued, until she dares a look into his soul and sees a man who’s been cruelly betrayed. She agrees to help him and loses her heart. But the man is an unassailable fortress. With quiet determination, she chips away his barriers and a passion darker than night pulls them under. As his enemies closes in on the hunt for the artifact, Reynner must overcome his own personal demons as battles are fought to claim the woman he loves or lose her forever. And Eve has to face her own mortality and fight for a love of a lifetime.
The sudden hush in the busy little café should have been his first clue shit was about to fly.Wrapped in his thoughts, Reynner savored his dark roasted coffee hot enough to scrape a layer off his throat, when he became aware of the unnatural quiet. Looking up, he got an eyeful of a tall female sashaying toward him, not in the least surprised she’d found him. Again.Lustrous black hair framed a face of sheer perfection, one that made gods and men whimper for her favor. A long, fitted white dress with a slit up to her thigh hugged her body and fell to her ankles.Oh, he understood the awed silence all too well since he’d once succumbed to that same sensual spell. Easing his grip on the mug, he set it aside, wishing he’d taken his coffee to go. A chair scraped on the linoleum opposite him. A moment later, her stiletto heel rode up his leather-clad leg to caress his inner thigh beneath the tablecloth.He shoved her foot off him. In a measured move, he picked up a coin from the change on the table and spun it so he wouldn’t be tempted to reach across and strangle her.“Get lost, Inanna. I'm busy.”“Reynner…” She held out a hand in appeal, her topaz eyes luminescent with tears. “Don’t do this...”Ignoring the Sumerian Goddess of Love and War hadn’t worked in the past, and certainly not now.He cut her an implacable stare. “Don’t do what? Ignore you? Or prefer other females?”Her face darkened at his mention of the women. “Why would you want these weak, pathetic creatures?” Her tears vanished as fast as they appeared. “I'm powerful. I’ll make it wonderful between us again.”Reynner leaned back in the wooden chair and ran a cool, dismissive gaze over her stunning face and lush body. More flighty promises, but no hint of an apology for what she’d done to him. The thought would never have entered her narcissistic mind.“I enjoy other women.”“You lie.”Reynner shrugged. Picking up the fallen coin, he worked it between his fingers. He just wanted coffee and a few minutes of quiet before he went back on the streets. Instead, he got her.It should have felt good torturing Inanna, but he got no enjoyment, just a prolonged headache that had started over two millennia ago.How could he have known then that stopping at the Sumerian pantheon would so irrevocably change his life?“You’ve become cold and unfeeling. One little mistake and you're still making me pay.” Her sulky voice drew him back.“One little mistake?” His tone made glaciers seem warm.“It was just a teeny-tiny year—”“A year?” His hands crashed on the table. The coin flew and disappeared beneath a chair. “It was a fucking century in Hell!”Inanna jerked back and blinked. Several humans turned their way in curiosity.“Your deception caught me unaware, never forget what I am,” he said, his warning clear.Her eyes flickered. Not from fear, Inanna didn’t believe there was anyone more powerful than her, but with a gleam of sexual promise. She knew all too well what he was, and why she hounded him.Empyreans were a race of beings as old as the celestial angels and just as powerful, but far more carnal.She leaned forward and rested her arms on the table, her low neckline displaying an eyeful of cleavage. “I’ll make it up to you…” Her voice lowered to a smoky promise. “I’ll make you my consort.”He’d rather be imprisoned in Hell again.“You have a mate.”“I am a goddess. I can do whatever I want. Come on, lover,” she wheedled. “It will be good between us again…then I’ll help you find what you seek.”Reynner stilled, his instincts on alert. Did she know where the missing Stone was? But meeting her watchful gaze, he dismissed the thought. No immortal would know for sure. The damn thing hid from them all. Even if she could aid him, he would never accept her help. It always came with a price.Reining in his irritation, he ignored her baiting and turned to take in the busy café.The brunette waitress at the table farther down watched him from beneath her lashes while she served a customer. She’d been sending him all sorts of signals from the moment she’d set his coffee down. Ones he didn’t encourage since he had no interest in females as a whole. Besides, he knew what a jealous bitch Inanna could be.A virulent hiss erupted from opposite him when she spotted the waitress. As if to prove his point, with a flick of her hand, the waitress flew backward, crashing into a table. Chaos erupted, drowning the female’s frightened cry. Two human males rushed to help her.A cat-like smile curved Inanna’s mouth. But her eyes flared with ire as she played with the deep blue lapis lazuli stone set in intricate silver filigree around her neck. “Look at another human tart again, and I will hurt her.”Of that, he had little doubt.
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I’ve been creating stories from the moment I could string two words together. No matter the tale, it always has romance woven through them. Yes, I'm a hopeless romantic.When I’m not writing or plotting new books, I like to read, travel, painting, or troll flea markets where I usually buy things I might never actually use because they're so pretty.After working in a few jobs all art related, a chosen career as a fashion designer, then an art teacher, I finally found my passion four years ago: writing. There really is no other job I’d rather do.Oh, and I live in the beautiful country of South Africa.AMAZON ✯ WEBSITE ✯ FACEBOOK ✯ GOODREADS ✯ TWITTER
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February 19, 2016
RELEASE TOUR: Between Good And Evil by R. Michael Phillips
With a broad smile and slight wrinkles at the corners of your eyes you snap shut your suitcase and grab the sunscreen without ever entertaining the notion murderers go on vacation too. What adds a chilling dimension to the idea is they look just like any other tourist in plaid shorts and a golf shirt until you catch a glimpse of the terrifying evil hidden behind their Foster Grants. It’s not something you’re likely to forget, especially once they look up over the postcard rack and realize you’re the one that got away.Promise Flynn was an overly impulsive Metro Detective whose disregard for procedure finally resulted in her being shot and left for dead during an investigation. To repair her bruised ego and splintered confidence she abandons the callous dark alleys of Chicago to patrol the quiet, birch-lined streets of Auburn Notch—a favorite vacation spot of her youth. For two years everything was idyllic, until the body of a young girl found in the abandoned asylum outside of town awakens the insecurities she thought her new life would insulate her from. As the new Sheriff she begins her investigation refusing to accept the similarities between the young woman’s death and her own case, oblivious to being unexpectedly recognized and penciled in at the top of a clever murderer’s To-Do list. Her internal struggle intensifies when a discredited crime reporter from the past suspiciously arrives in town to resurrect his threadbare reputation, along with an FBI agent chasing down a lead in a cold case. Both men quickly become entangled in Flynn's investigation and her attempts to finally put her past to rest. Flynn reluctantly accepts the murder might be the work of the two men responsible for her hasty departure from Chicago, but Agent MacGregor insists the evidence points to a man he’s been chasing. As the rising current of her past threatens to pull her under, Flynn finds herself unprepared for option three.
The festivities in town were slowly petering out as the eleven o’clock hour approached. The earlier-packed sidewalks along the main drag, crowded with assorted craft and food vendors, were opening back up in ten-foot sections at a time as booths were disassembled. The trendy watering holes were still flush with business. The locals shuffled through the crowds grumbling about quieter times, while the newly of-age drinkers were busy testing the waters and carving out a space for themselves at the bar. The clusters gathered around family activities had diminished proportionately with the ages of the children attached to the extended arms of their parents. Cafés and eateries were cleaning up after a long day of serving sandwiches, dinners, sweets, and coffee to an overwhelming flock of locals and out-of-towners in for the festival. The assortment of local college students hired for the event were busy wiping down tables, eagerly anticipating a second wave of good tips. About another thirty minutes they figured, as soon as the parents washed the cotton candy and ice cream off all the little faces and they were nestled snugly beneath their covers. “Promise,” a shrill voice called out from one of the tables on the sidewalk in front of the Auburn Coffee House. “Sheriff Flynn, do you have a minute?” As Sheriff Flynn approached the coffee house, she couldn’t help but notice Mrs. Johnson seated at one of the tables on the sidewalk. Policing the festival activities and the swelling of the population proved a long and tiring three days. Chitchat remained at the bottom of her list of things to do at that moment. She had hoped her hastened step, lowered head, and obvious intention of ignoring any recognition of her would give the impression of being off on police business. She paused, looking over the tops of the crowd, hoping to see some sort of minor criminal activity going on. Nothing major, she thought to herself. Public urination would work. Littering. A dog walker not scooping. Anything? Her thoughts eventually drifted to the possibility of a shootout in front of the bank as not being such a bad option at that moment. It wasn’t to be. She caught a glimpse of Mrs. Johnson out of the corner of her eye still waving. Not a distraction in sight. This town is too damn law abiding. “Sheriff Promise Mary Flynn,” called out Mrs. Johnson, as if addressing a petulant child. “I’ve got a matter we need to discuss.” Sheriff Flynn tucked her hopes of a shootout away and walked over to the table. She took a deep breath and forced a smile. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Johnson, I didn’t see you there. You see, I’m on my way—” “Nonsense,” replied Mrs. Johnson cordially but firmly. “There is always a moment for two civil servants to compare notes. Besides, you have a whole department to handle the day-to-day policing of this fine town.” Mrs. Johnson paused, looked out over her reading glasses at the sheriff, giving the attractive, tall blond the onceover. “You know, it wouldn’t break any laws if you did something with your hair other than stuffing it under that hat.” She gave a petite snort to signal the end of her analyzing glance. “With a little eye shadow, I would imagine some men might even find you attractive.” Sheriff Flynn clenched her teeth into what might be construed as a smile and groaned. Forget the bank, a shootout right here will work just fine. “If this is about the missing money from the swim club account, Hank has been quietly looking into it. I can assure you—” “No. No. No!” Mrs. Johnson replied, looking around and making sure no one was listening. “Please keep your voice down. I don’t want anyone to know I’ve asked you to look into that.” Promise bit her inside cheek, continuing the conversation through clenched teeth. “Is there something else on your mind, Alice?” “Yes. There is something much more urgent I believe we need to discuss,” said Alice Johnson. She pushed out the chair across from her with her foot, giving a nod of direction to the sheriff. “Have a seat, this will only take a minute. It’s the well-being of our citizenry at stake, and I know it’s as much a priority to you as it is to me.” There was no escape. Short of an actual crime being committed at that very moment right in front of them, Flynn had no choice but to sit, smile, and listen to what the councilwoman had on her mind. “Well-being of the citizenry? I’m not sure I understand.” The councilwoman pulled a green folder from her oversized canvas tote, placing it down on the table in front of Flynn. “As you can tell by these photos, I’ve made an extensive investigation of that dangerous curve out by the old asylum. This photo here,” she continued, nudging one of the photos out from the pile, “is of particular interest. You see that guardrail? I kicked it a few times, and it broke clean away from the support going into the ground. It’s that way along the entire length of the curve. It’s a deathtrap. I know this is a highway department matter, but I can’t stand by when a potential hazard to the fine people of this town is being ignored.” Sheriff Flynn picked up the photo, making a careful examination of the evidence. “Those temporary barricades should be just fine.” She pointed to one in particular in the photo. “Like this one you had to move in order to get close enough to kick the guardrail. As long as no one moves them again, these will certainly protect the fine citizens of Auburn Notch.” Promise paused for a moment. “I believe there is also a sign directing people to use the fire access road as an alternative. It’s just up around the bend from that curve.” “Nobody is going to use that narrow, dirt road. I certainly wouldn’t. Besides, most people don’t even know it’s there.” “Well, I’m not sure what else I can do. At this point it’s a matter between you and the highway department.” “Luke Sanders said he has money appropriated to replace the old guardrail in the new budget, but his department has a few other matters higher on his priority list.” Councilwoman Johnson tidied up the pile of photos and slipped them and the folder back into her tote. “Those wooden barricades might be fine to block off a parade route, but a speeding car will go right through them and over that embankment.” Sheriff Flynn rose from her seat, eyeing her deputy coming in her direction at a hastened pace. No matter what he wants, she thought to herself, it was going to be an important matter in need of my immediate attention. “Everyone knows how treacherous that stretch of road is. I can’t image anyone speeding around that curve. If it will make you happy, I’ll talk to Luke and see if we can’t get a few more caution signs posted further down the road in both directions until his men can get out there. In the meantime, try not to kick it anymore.” Councilwoman Johnson’s eyes narrowed at the insinuation. She responded with a grunt and a halfhearted smile. “Thank you, Promise, I knew I could count on your support.” Sheriff Flynn nodded. She felt a light tap on her shoulder. “Sorry to interrupt, ladies.” “What is it, Hank?” replied the sheriff brightly; uncharacteristically appreciating his interruption whether or not it turned out to be his usual bellyaching about something he would have done differently. “It may be nothing, Sheriff,” replied Hank, turning the sheriff away from the table and speaking quietly, “but we got a report there’s a lit candle in a second floor window of the old mental hospital. I’ll take care of it, I just wanted to let you know I’m goin’ up there.” Sheriff Flynn didn’t respond. A quick gasp stole her voice. She glanced passed Hank, her eyes rolling upward following the tree line. There, perched on a granite crag a thousand or so feet in elevation above the town, were the weathered edges of slate gables piercing the silhouette of a tired length of pine trees. Where the spikes and dips clustered together were a fair representation of the past health of such a grand structure, the sharp drop-off to a flat, indigo tree line is deathly expressive of its sudden and tragic end. Little more than the discarded shell of how it once appeared, there remained a slight whisper of evil in its squalid halls. To Promise, this evil had a different voice. A voice she never wanted to hear again. “It’s those damn kids,” moaned Mrs. Johnson, her hearing as acute as rumor had it. “You know, that group that walks around here dressed in black with those God-awful tattoos and piercings. Vampires, that’s what I say they are. Black shirts. Black pants. Black boots. Skulking about at night. Always up to no good. What decent child has coal-black hair with a white streak running down the left side? Up to no good, that’s what I say. I’ve a mind to call their parents in front of the next council meeting . . .” “Are you okay, Sheriff?” Hank whispered under Mrs. Johnson’s rant. Sheriff Flynn’s eyes remained fixed on the asylum. The chill running up her spine muffled any recognition of what her deputy was saying. She could feel a dull ache rising in her left shoulder. Not again. It can’t be. It can’t be. “Did you hear me, Promise?” interrupted Councilwoman Johnson. “It’s those kids. Those vampires. Those damn—” Sheriff Flynn raised her hand, shaking off the panicked look she hoped went unnoticed. She took a deep breath, tempering her response. “We don’t know anything yet, Alice. As for your vampires, I don’t think this town has seen a bit of trouble from any of those kids. They just express themselves a little differently than you and I.” She hesitated, trying to hold the words back. The next remark went off like the snap of a mousetrap. “And if dressing in black was a crime, they’d be sharing a cell with you. If you’ll excuse me, I think I better go out and see what’s going on. I’ll make it a point to find you tomorrow after I speak to Luke. Nice seeing you, Alice.” Mrs. Johnson replied with a carping grunt. Before she could mount her rebuttal, Sheriff Flynn and Hank were in the patrol car heading out of town on Interstate 93 toward the abandoned mental hospital. “What are you looking at?” asked Sheriff Flynn, giving a quick glance over at Hank. “If dressing in black was a crime?” “Yeah, I’m probably gonna regret that.” Hank paused, trying to get a read on the sheriff’s expression. She actually looked spooked. They had been working together for two years. Two irritating years, according to Hank. Auburn Notch certainly isn’t a hub of criminal activity, just the usual share of traffic tickets and the occasional dead body due to a house fire or accident. Nothing ever happened that would warrant the mayor appointing some out-of-town, big-city detective as sheriff instead of him. He had the town council’s ear and wasn’t bashful about letting them know he was suspicious about her past. Hank was convinced it was only a matter of time before he would uncover the information he needed to replace his boss behind the big desk in the sheriff’s office. For the time being, she was sheriff, and he just had to deal with it. Promise Flynn might be some out-of-town detective, but she spent many years vacationing in Auburn Notch with her family. One thing she learned back then, there are no secrets in a small New England town. She was very much aware of Hank’s resentment from her first day on the job and decided to let him dig around all he wanted. Just to make it interesting, she also put him in charge of the swim club investigation. She already had a good read on what transpired, but giving the investigation to Hank would flush out his true character. If he’s half the cop he tells people he is, he should have no problem putting the pieces together. It will also test his loyalty. Flynn had a feeling at least two prominent people might be involved with the missing money, and one of them is a close friend of Hanks. If he comes up empty, writing traffic tickets in a small town is going to be the extent of his law enforcement career. Until then, she’ll just have to continue to ignore him tugging at the rug under her boots. “So why are you tagging along? I said I’d handle it.” Flynn’s mind was elsewhere. By the time she realized he was talking to her, Hank tried another approach to get an answer. “Just kids. That’s all,” Hank huffed. “What is?” “The candle in the window of the asylum. I chase those damn kids outta there once a week. You didn’t have to come along. It’s probably nothing. Just a candle in the window of an old building.” Sheriff Flynn looked over at Hank, her lips drawn tightly closed. She shook her head and looked back through the windshield at the dark road ahead. “It’s never just a candle.”
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Michael is a classically trained artist turned mystery writer. By combining his creative talents with a passion for mysteries he conceived his first series—The Ernie Bisquets Mysteries. It introduced Ernie Bisquets, a retired London pickpocket who decided he was going to assist the London police with there most difficult cases—whether they want his help or not. Michael has completed 3 books in the series, and has plans for at least five additional books.Michael travels a bit, especially to Great Britain, but also has a fondness for New England. He spent many winters in the shadow of the White Mountains, skiing and enjoying the beautiful countryside. Those fond memories are the backdrop now for the new Auburn Notch Mysteries being published by Sunbury Press. The main character is Sheriff Promise Flynn—an ex-metro detective who left a dark past and her big-city detective shield behind and moved to a small New England town. What follows is anything but therapeutic.When he’s not painting or writing Michael is an avid antique collector, filling his current home—an 1894 Queen Ann Victorian he, his wife, and son are restoring—with an assortment of antiques from around the world. Michael also enjoys cooking, working in the garden, and playing in the yard with their two rescues, Beau and Pup.AMAZON ✯ WEBSITE ✯ FACEBOOK ✯ GOODREADS ✯ TWITTER ✯ BLOG
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February 18, 2016
RELEASE TOUR & #Giveaway: Carnal by Victoria Danann
The angel, Kellareal, stopped the genocide of generations of hybrids, who had been bred for research and spent their entire lives imprisoned. Against orders, he spirited them away to a dimension where they would have freedom and purpose. In a vindictive fit, Rosie Storm asked Kellareal for a place to hide out. He knew just the place for her to grow up, learn emotional control, and other necessary things necessary for the proper education of a young woman wielding god-like power.
The angel motioned her over. “Rosie, this is Free. He’s the leader of the Exiled here at Newland.” Kellareal turned to Free. “This is my adopted niece, Rosie.”Rosie jerked her attention to the angel. She’d never heard him suggest a title for their relationship before, adopted or otherwise.“With your permission, I need a couple of minutes with Rosie to say goodbye. I’ll be back in a couple of weeks to check on things.”“Always good to see you,” Free said to Kellareal, in a voice so gravelly it almost startled Rosie.The angel took her by the elbow and walked her toward the edge of the settlement, near the wall.“So here are the rules.”“Rules?” She almost sounded alarmed.“Yes. Rules,” he clipped, sounding serious enough to get her full attention. “Extraordinary measures have made these people stronger and smarter than humans. Given the right circumstances, they’re also more dangerous. As far as they know, you’re a human girl, who needs a place to hide out for a bit. I don’t want them to suspect differently. Do you get me?”She pulled back, looking affronted. “Yes! I get you! You don’t want me to do anything a…” She made quotation marks with her fingers. “…’human girl’ wouldn’t do.”“Exactly. And lose the adolescent attitude.” She rolled her eyes. “Rosie, please don’t make me look bad.”She sighed. “Okay. I appreciate this.”“Well, I hope you still feel that way in a couple of weeks of working here.”“Working?” She seemed surprised.“Yes. Working. It’s not all kittens and rainbows here. Pull your socks up.”Rosie was narrowing her eyes and gearing up for a reply when Kellareal vanished leaving her wondering what ‘pull your socks up’ means. She turned toward the Exiled leader, whom Kellareal had called the Extant, and began walking in his direction. When a gust of wind ruffled her hair, she looked toward the east, where the human city could be seen below and in the distance.Free looked down at her and smiled when she reached him. “Let’s get you situated. I see you didn’t bring belongings?”She looked around like she’d misplaced them. “No. I guess I didn’t think about it.”“No matter. We’ll sort it out. You can stay at my house with my family. We can always use help at the Commons. The unmated males spend a lot of time there. Drinking. Eating. Since they’re not mated.” He added, smiling as if that explained the whole of the universe. “If anybody gives you any trouble or unwanted attention, just come to me. I’ll take care of it.”For a scant instant she wondered what it might be like to be a young woman who had to worry about men trying to press their physical advantage and thanked the gods she’d never have to find out how vulnerable that would make someone feel.“Thank you,” she smiled in return. “I don’t have any experience working at… um, working.”Free looked at her sideways. “You seem capable. You’ll learn.”By the time they reached Free’s house, it was almost dark and evident that Newland had no power for lighting. The house, like the other buildings, was made of roughhewn logs, with a small but cheerful light coming from the front windows. It appeared to be three stories and larger than most of the other buildings.Free opened the door and entered before Rosie. The room wasn’t plush or luxurious, but was definitely inviting. The upholstered furniture was worn, but friendly-looking. The fire was small, but welcoming. “Serene!” His growly voice rumbled. Rosie couldn’t tell if he was displeased or if his voice always sounded like that.A woman, roughly the same age as Free, appeared from the back of the house wiping her hands. She cocked her head at Rosie. “Hello,” she said. Her voice was also raspy, but not as deep as Free’s.“Hello,” Rosie replied. “I’m…”“She’s Kellareal’s ward,” Free interrupted. “She needs a place to stay for a while.”Serene smiled. “Of course. You’re welcome.”The door crashed open behind Rosie. “Hey, I…”Rosie turned to see an extremely good-looking boy staring at her.“Rosie. This is our youngest son, Charming.”She looked from Free to Serene for a hint that he was joking, but saw none. Turning back to the new arrival she said, “Nice to meet you, Charming.”She fully expected him to break into a fit of laughter and tell her that wasn’t really his name. Instead, he said, “Hi. Rosie.”“She’s going to be staying with us for a while. Show her to Carnal’s room.”“But…” Charming started.“Show her to Carnal’s room.” Free repeated with a bit more insistence in his tone. “Then come back down for dinner.”“Okaaaay.”Rosie estimated Charming’s age at eighteen or so. He had honey colored hair, streaked with blonde, just like his mother. And yellow-green eyes. Also just like his mother. He was as tall as Free with a powerful, athletic build that suggested it would become even more impressive in a couple of years.He gave Rosie a smile that was, well, charming and motioned for her to follow up the stairs. “This way.” He stopped at the second story landing and said, “Carnal’s room is there.” He pointed down the hall to the right. “My room is up there.” He pointed to a narrower staircase that led upward. “The attic room. It has a great view. I can see just about everything that happens in Newland,” he said proudly.Rosie smiled and turned toward the room Charming had pointed out, noting that there was another room down the hall. “Am I, um, displacing someone?”“Displacing?” He opened the door to a decidedly masculine space. It was minimalist to the extreme. A wood platform bed with four thick square legs, but no headboard. A double shelf unit with a few books, rocks, and feathers on one side and folded clothes on the other side. There was a paraffin lamp on a small square stand by the bed and another on the shelf unit. There wasn’t much there, but what was there was neat as a military barracks. Bed perfectly made. Nothing out of place. “No. Not at all. This is my oldest brother’s room, but he doesn’t come home often.”“Oh.”“Do you need help with your stuff?”“No. I, ah, didn’t bring anything. I’ll get my, ah, stuff in the next couple of days.”Charming nodded. “Well, then, let’s have supper.”When Rosie told Kellareal she needed a hideout, the last thing she had in mind was becoming an exchange student. She didn’t want to get to know and be part of a family, but not eating would raise suspicion. After all her cover was human and humans must eat. So she said, “Okay,” and followed Charming back downstairs.“Is Carnal away at school?”Charming paused mid step to laugh. “Nothing like that. No. He’s on patrol right now.” He resumed descent, but stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “Smell that? We’re having elk stew with parsnips and onions. You’ll love it.”Rosie had to admit that it did smell good. The kitchen was square with a table and chairs in the middle of the room, but the first thing that attracted her eye was the wood stove and the precision cut stack of firewood next to it. The front panel had been left standing open to heat the room with coals left smoldering from cooking. She’d seen such stoves in books, but never in person.Charming’s parents had already filled their bowls and were waiting patiently.She sat down across from Charming and pulled in her chair just as he reached out and tore off a large chunk of brown bread from the dome-shaped loaf in the middle of the table. Next to it sat a pot of stew.“Go on. Help yourself,” said Charming with his mouth full.So she stood and ladled a generous portion into her bowl, while Free carried on quiet conversation about livestock.After a few minutes, Charming said, “Why aren’t you eating?”Everyone stopped and looked at Rosie.“Well, it looks so good and smells even better,” she said, looking from one to the other. Serene smiled in response. “But to be honest, I’m worried about the sauce.” It was tomato-based. “These are the only clothes I have at the moment.”They all looked at her thin white boyfriend shirt, which caused a blush.Serene rose from the table and retrieved an apron. She flicked it in front of Rosie and tied the top close to her neck.“There,” she said. “Tomorrow we’ll see about scrounging up some other clothes.” She looked at Free. “What was Kellareal thinking?”Rosie was grateful enough to warm to the idea of getting to know the family.Free shrugged. “Got a lot on his mind. Always.”“Thank you,” Rosie told Serene as she dug into the stew. “Oh my gods. This is incredible!” she said before quite finishing the first bite.Serene beamed and Free did not miss the signs of her pleasure, which in turn pleased him. He turned to Rosie.“The large building next door is the Commons. Tomorrowmorning, Charming will take you over there and introduce you to the woman in charge. She’ll lay it out for you and get you started right.”“Okay. And thank you for having me.”Serene interjected. “We’re very sincere when we say you’re welcome here for as long as you’d like to stay. Kellareal must think very highly of you. If you’re special to him, you’re special to us.”Rosie nodded and returned her smile, not wanting to spout off about what a pain he could be. She thought better of being the one to tarnish the rosy esteem in which he was held.“No reason to wait till tomorrow morning. I’m headed over there right now.” Charming was talking to Rosie. “Come and go with me. I’ll be the envy of Newland, arriving with a beautiful woman.”Free glanced at me. “Do you want to go, Rosie?”She hesitated. Charming pled with his eyes in such a cute way she had a hard time saying no. “Maybe for just a little while.”Free then turned to Charming. “Make it clear that she’s a special guest of mine,” he warned.“Sure, Pop.”“Charming, this is not a joke. Can you be trusted to take care of Rosie?”Charming grew instantly serious, transforming his looks so that he appeared older. “Yes.”Free nodded.
Amazon ~ Goodreads
USA TODAY Bestselling Author, Victoria Danann, is making her debut into Contemporary Romance with releases in May and June 2015, after taking the world of PNR by storm.Her Knights of Black Swan series won BEST PARANORMAL ROMANCE SERIES TWO YEARS IN A ROW (2013, 2014). Reviewers Choice Awards, The Paranormal Romance Guild.Victoria's paranormal romances come with uniquely fresh perspectives on "imaginary" creatures, characters, and themes. She adds a dash of scifi, a flourish of fantasy, enough humor to make you laugh out loud, and enough steam to make you squirm in your chair. Her heroines are independent femmes with flaws and minds of their own whether they are aliens, witches, demonologists, psychics, past life therapists, or financial analysts from Dallas. Her heroes are hot and hunky, but they also have brains, character, and good manners - usually - whether they be elves, demons, berserkers, werewolves, or vampires.The first book of the Knights of Black Swan Paranormal Romance Series, My Familiar Stranger, was nominated for Best Paranormal Romance of 2012 by both Reviewers' Choice and Readers' Choice Awards. All of her books have opened on the Amazon Best Sellers list and earned Night Owl Reviews TOP PICK awards. Many have appeared on Listopia BOOK OF THE MONTH as #1 across all genres.For books published in 2013, Black Swan won three awards. 1. Best Paranormal Romance Series 2. Best Paranormal Romance Novel - A SUMMONER'S TALE 3. Best Vampire~Shifter Novel - MOONLIGHT. In 2014, Solomon's Sieve won Best Vampire Novel.If you're interested in Victoria personally, she is also a classically trained musician who defected to Classic Rock music. Until 2013 she was the utility player for Houston's Roadhouse band, which means she played rhythm guitar, keyboards, sang back ups and female leads. Her band covered everything (note for note) from Styx to Led Zepellin to Rush.She lives in The Woodlands, Texas with her husband and a very smart, mostly black German Shepherd dog.
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February 17, 2016
RELEASE TOUR & #Giveaway: Sensual Diversions {Erotic Boxset}
This Valentines, fourteen romance and erotica authors cut to the chase in this unique collection of sexy bits and tell-all short stories. Tales that are personal and touching, heart wrenching, tear jerking and bodice ripping, on your knees and against the wall bangers. One night stands, loves of a lifetime, boy next door, bad boy vs good guy… we have it all! What’s your pleasure, pick your poison, a different man every day for a fortnight… need we say more? WARNING: Mature Adult 18+ for graphic sex, coarse language, and mild violence. Reader discretion is advised.
Amazon US ~ Goodreads 
THE SEXY BITS ARE EXCERPTS FOUND IN THE BOX SET COME FROM THE FOLLOWING BOOKS.THE BOX SET DOES NOT INCLUDE THE FULL BOOKS LISTED BELOW UNLESS OTHERWISE STATED.
In the sixth volume of the series, new beginnings await the characters of Westmore.*After years of estrangement, Caroline returns to Westmore to reunite with her brother Jeff.*Fed up with Andrew's betrayal, Elizabeth seeks a divorce and a fresh start.*Alicia and Jacob's relationship is at a standstill, as the couple contemplates reconciliation, Courtney is on a mission to win back Jacob's heart.*Home from his tour, Scott meets with Melissa for the first time since their split. The couple look to overcome their obstacles and move forward in their lives.*Wayne tries to turn his life around as he repairs the rift in his family. His professional and personal life looks bright when a new business opportunity and new lady enter the picture.*Charlotte is happy in her relationship with Jim and is ready to take the next step, but a tragedy could alter their plans.
Algen is finally home after spending most of her teen years, and young adulthood in Washington State. She has never been clear on the reason she was sent to live with her father’s relatives. But she has a job she loves and can finally live in the place she loves. The Aurora Borealis fascinates her; Algen has missed the lights and winter terribly. The Grannies want her to be careful. Should she be careful of the new hire at the native corporation? She’s sure if he gets too close her heart is going to be in grave danger. The cultural anthropologist is pursuing her with the single-mindedness of a big predator. Gunrik is too smart, too much of a hunk and far too tempting.
This novella is intended for mature audiences only. Wordcount 40,000 (180 pages approx).Riella Smith, an unconventional Romany Princess, travels to Tuscany on the trail of her father’s challenger, to delay him and prevent unnecessary bloodshed and humiliation. What she expects is trouble from a fearsome rival. But life is rarely that easy.The trouble she finds is of a different kind. Soon, she faces the toughest decision of her life – again – though it should really be a no-brainer. All she has to do is choose between her people and a myth.After all, there’s no such thing as love at first sight.
The complete version of 'Feels Like the First Time' will be available in late spring of 2016. This book will be part of the Breathless Series. To date, there are three books available in Amazon that belong to this particular book series; Just Once More, The Reason Why, and Somewhere In-Between.
This is the prequel story of Ashley Trenton. I wasn't always a horrible junkie mess. I had dreams like any other girl. But I gave up my dreams to marry my high school sweetheart and start a family. I also sent that life crashing into hell. Ashley tells a story of her life before drugs. Of a life, of love ,and of heartache. It's a story of how it all began.
His name is whispered behind the hands of many gossiping women.The way he pleasures a body leaves you craving his touch, his words, and his breath. The way his eyes bore into yours, you want to look away, but you can’t. He controls every part of your being while you’re in his domain. And when you leave, you feel bereft, but sated.Who is this man they speak about?Megan Brayer has the chance to interview this elusive gentleman. Will the answers he gives to her questions satisfy her curiosity?This is the first book of many short stories. Each story will tell its own little story and can be read as stand alone.Xs: The Interview is just over six thousand words.
Everyone has secrets. Sometimes secrets can get you killed.After ten years in the big city, Cassie Holt is moving back to her hometown to take over the bookstore left to her by her beloved Gram, vowing to live her life alone. To her best friend, Sheriff James Marsten, Cassie seems to be the same girl that left Fairfield Corners to go to college but Cassie has secrets and one of those secrets could get her killed. When one of her secrets becomes a threat to her life, James turns to his new deputy to help him keep Cassie safe.Deputy Logan Miller has been burned by love and is not looking to get involved with anyone anytime soon. When he is thrown into close quarters with Cassie, the sparks begin to fly and he begins to see through the walls Cassie has built around her heart. As the threat gets closer, can Logan protect Cassie and protect his heart? (MA, 18+ for sexual situations)
When Allison Hayes' Valentine's Day date never shows up at the restaurant for dinner, she is determined that her night is doomed for disaster. That was until she glanced across the room and made eye contact with the sexy as sin man who was also sitting alone. Recognition comes slamming into her as she realizes he was the one she'd always had her heart set on having. A fire still burned in her belly at the sight of him, even after all the years that had passed. Mason Wolfe was the popular one in high school. The hot athletic boy all the girls drooled over and Allison, well, she was the boring bookworm who no one wanted to talk to. She was barely noticed at all and definitely not memorable in the slightest. But all that changed and she was now a gorgeous young woman. Allison became the sexy, independent woman she'd always dreamed of being, she is willing do anything to get what her body craves, even if it's just for one night with Mason. The undeniable burning desire flows through her veins like molten lava, and his touch is the only one who can squelch the flames.
Heather Marsden and Cody Stevens have been an item since their first year of high school. With their future planned and their college graduation within reach, Cody gets devastating news from his doctor. Heather must now cope with the knowledge that she might lose the man who was supposed to be her forever. While trying to come up with a grand final birthday surprise for him, Heather ends up befriending the new girl in town. Suzanne Cross lives a hippie life full of color and extravagance, seemingly without a care in the world. In truth, she’s all alone and hides a secret. Heather’s new friend is something more than human, but how far will she be willing to go to save Cody? Just how much faith in “love” can she muster? ***Contains adult material, including sex and recreational drug use. Meant for readers 18+***
THE WICKED AWAKENED - What would you do if a five hundred year old witch wanted to turn your body into her new home?Morcant and Blake Korrigan own a little shop of horrors, where witches congregate and people ending up dead isn’t rare. When Karen Hiltzman joins their coven, she has no idea what she’s getting into. Drawn in, the group convinces her to recruit her best friend, Sarah Matthews, after discovering that she bears a very special birthmark; one that indicates she’s the girl they’ve been waiting for.Eager to reincarnate a witch put to death by an angry mob five hundred years prior, Morcant unleashes a spell; a dark and sinister curse. His ritual transforms Sarah’s body and will bring the dreaded Brenna back to life when it’s completed. Blake wants to stop him; but will he be strong enough to defeat his elder sibling, and if he does… will he be able to let her go when it’s done?.MA - 18+ V - violence S - sexual content L - coarse language
This is the second in Sophie Slade's Eternally Yours series. Although this book can be read as a stand alone, it is advised to read the first book, TOUCHED BY A VAMPIRE (ETERNALLY YOURS BOOK ONE), first. This book also ends on a slight cliffhanger.WARNING 18+: This book is erotic paranormal romance and contains material that may be considered offensive to some readers, which includes graphic language, explicit sex, and adult situations. As the head of the North Vampire Coven and owner of Caprice Casino and Club Moroii, alpha-male billionaire Lance Steel has more money and incredible good looks than any one man deserves. He is a great husband and father, but he’s also a vampire. His wife, Leila, is human and his son is a dhampir—half human and half vampire—but in order to live a human life with his wife and son, he wants to become human again.As a brilliant doctor and scientist, Leila has developed a sunlight serum, and friends Amy and Elias are working on a cure for vampirism, but is Lance willing to give up his vampire and become human again for his family? Or will his decision cost him the lives of his wife and son, and the destruction of his entire coven? Which path will he choose at the crossroads?*The first book in this series is TOUCHED BY A VAMPIRE (ETERNALLY YOURS BOOK ONE), by: Sophie Slade. The third book in this series will be TO LOVE A VAMPIRE, set for release 2016.
Six months after True’s last boss viciously attacked her, she’s ready to take her therapist’s advice and go back into the work force. She wants her life to be normal again and working for another man will be a giant step towards her goal.Nick has been betrayed by a pretty face for the last time and has sworn off relationships. Or so he thought until the day his new assistant, True Kelly, walked into his office.They try to fight their attraction for each other, but fail. Are Nick and True ready to risk their hearts for a chance at happiness?
After the numerous attempts to win Karina over, Connor continues to surprise her and she finds it harder and harder to resist his charm and charismatic ways. One thing's for sure, when Connor's around, there's never a dull moment!They continue to face each other in court but who will come out on top? Is it a case of winning the battle but losing the war?Is Karina any closer to her dream of a white wedding or should she be thinking more towards black?Is Connor, the man that vowed never to settle down, falling for Karina or is he simply suffering a severe case of lust and sex on tap?Can Connor dare to change his man-whoring ways or will secrets and sin tear them apart?Warning.Contains graphic sex, a British man-whore who has unconventional ideas towards sexual exploits and a lot of swearing. Also if you found book One funny then you know what's coming in Dare To Change.
It’s all gone to shit.I hate where I am but I’m so lost with absolutely no idea where to go from here. I f*cked it all up royally.You would think I had learned from my past, but no, my past slams back to haunt me at every turn and I’ve failed again.I tried, I really did but I know I f*cked up because of my stupid wild side, craving sinful pleasures that I should never have started.But out of all the things that have gone wrong, there is one thing I can put right.And I’m going to.It’s time to be the man I should have been from the beginning. I don’t want to live with these secrets hanging over me, but just how much do I reveal to keep the woman I love?Sometimes the truth isn’t pretty and my secrets definitely aren't.KarinaI knew it was too good to be true.He was a player, a man-whore through and through and leopards don’t change their spots, do they?What is he trying to hide? His evasive behaviour is a dead giveaway that he’s not telling me the truth. Then, just when I think I know what I’m going to do, I get the shock of my life when I see Connor out with a person I never even knew existed.Was our whole relationship built on secrets? After what I stumbled across and then what I saw, I wonder how much Connor has been keeping from me.Left with no choice, I have to confront him. I need answers and I deserve answers and I will not leave until I have them this time.The question is, does he love me enough to reveal the truth?More importantly, will I survive it if he does?** This book is the conclusion to Connor and Karina's story. **
Author Links = Author's Website or Facebook Samantha Jacobey: Anyone who knows me could tell you, I am a friendly kind of person, never met a stranger and take up conversations any where at any time. I work hard, and my mind never seems to shut down, as I wake up often in the middle of the night with ideas pouring out and demanding to be dealt with. Of course that means much of my books were written in the middle of the night.I grew up and still live in the great state of Texas where everything is bigger, where we have warm weather and a central location. I love my state, my town, and my family, which includes my four sons, my significant other, and many friends as well.I have thoroughly enjoyed writing the books that are currently available and hope you will enjoy reading them just as much. And of course, there will be many more stories to come.Meet Award Winning, Best Selling Author Cherime MacFarlane Although born in New Orleans, I am proud to call myself an Alaskan. This has been my home since 1976. I have seen minus 40 degree temperatures, hauled water, made bear bacon, and I live in a cabin. I used a fishwheel to catch salmon coming up the Copper River. I was my second husband's chief mechanic's helper and roadie. I cut firewood on shares. I worked as a cocktail waitress during pipeline days in a small Lodge on the Richardson Highway. My second husband, a Scot from Glasgow, was the love of my life. When I write Scots dialect, I experienced hearing it from my in laws. When my husband got on the phone to Scotland, after five seconds I could hardly understand a word. We moved to the town of Wasilla to get warm. It seldom drops past minus 25 degrees here in the winter. I became a paralegal and worked for over twenty-six years for the same firm. Alaska is my home. I never thought I would love it so much; I never want to leave. The beauty of Alaska is a draw I cannot resist. I love the people and the history. I have been captured by a place I came to under duress. Life plays some interesting tricks on one. My love and I were not apart over twenty-four hours for twenty plus years. I never wanted to be anywhere but with him. He was a man to run the river with and was my biggest fan.Ella Medler is a U.K. author and free-lance editor. She writes fiction in more than one genre in a seemingly vain attempt to slow down her overactive brain enough to write non-fiction on subjects she knows a thing or two about. She also does not believe in the starchy use of English and ignores the type of rule that doesn't allow for a sentence to be finished in a preposition. Her books - whatever genre they may be - are action-driven. Well-developed, multi-layered characters are her forte.Loves: freedom.Hates: her inner censor.As a child, Teri Riggs made up her own bedtime stories. When her children came along, Teri always tweaked the fairy tales she told her daughters, giving them a bit more punch and better endings when needed.Now she spends her days turning her ideas into books. She lives in Marietta, GA with her husband.I write erotic romance.LJ SeXton: Born and raised in Michigan right outside of Detroit. I have two adult daughters and a chihuahua who is more needy then my girls ever were. I have loved to read and write fiction stories since I was in elementary school.J.C. Clarke: An author? Yeah, well I'm getting there, hopefully. I’m not really one for blabbing about myself, but I can give you a few starters, if you’re interested.I’m a mum of four kids, two girls and two boys and I’m married to a wonderful man who puts up with my crap.We live in an area near Southampton (UK) called the New Forest, which is very beautiful. There’s ponies, donkeys and wild deer and cattle all over the place, so it makes it very interesting living here at times.I design for a living, but I am self taught, so I have a long way to go.I’m a very down to earth thirty year old and yeah, I dabble with writing.L.A. Remenicky ~ Love Stories With A TwistAn avid reader all her life, she finally put pen to paper (or fingers to keyboard) during NaNoWriMo in 2012 and has never looked back.Paranormal romance, romantic suspense, no romance genre is out of bounds!N.Y. Times Bestselling author Nicole Garcia has a degree in Nursing, but has been a stay at home mom for the past 9 years. Her passion is reading and decided to make a career out of sharing her love for books. Writing and promoting has become a full time job for her now. There are so many unknown authors out there that deserve to have their books read by many. So, after promoting for authors for two years, she decided to follow her dreams and start writing her own books. Nicole started writing poetry when she was just a little girl and had always loved the feeling it gave her. Currently she writes steamy Paranormal, Contemporary, and New Adult Romance, but plans to write other genres in the future. Hope you will join her in all the fun ahead. Amazon International Best Selling* author R.E. Hargrave lives on the outskirts of Dallas, TX where she prides herself on being a domestic engineer. Married to her high school sweetheart, together they are raising three children. She is an avid reader, a sometimes quilter, and now, a writer. Other hobbies include gardening and a love of music. A native 'mutt,' Hargrave has lived in New Hampshire, Pennsylvania, South Carolina, Alabama, Texas, and California. She is fond of setting her stories~which range from the sweet to the paranormal to the erotic~on location in South Carolina and Texas, but its anybody's guess as to what the genre will be! Carol Cassada is an author who hails from the small town of Ringgold, VA.From a very early age she loved to read and by the time she reached high school, she fell in love with writing and knew she wanted to become a writer.She started her writing journey, she's released 6 books and has more in the works.When she's not busy cranking out books, Carol loves to spend time with her family, play with her pets, catch up on reading, and blog about her love of soap operas.Izzibella Beau is an aspiring writer currently residing on a farm in the U.S. She is married and has 32 children; 3 biological and 29 canine. She earned a bachelor and master degrees in criminal justice from Saint Leo University. She also has many graduate hours in the disciplines of teaching and public services. Ms. Beau first book Broken: Book One of the Assumption Series was released in May 2014. Since then, four other books have been released belonging to that series. The story is based on the lives of BayShore Academy high school students, Ayma and Colton and a barrage of their friends and family. After the first three books, each additional book continues with the focus on another dynamic character (s) from the series. The second series is When Separate Worlds Collide. This will be a trilogy with two of the books already out on Amazon. This is a new adult, paranormal, romance that promises to have lots of twists and turns that the reader never saw coming. The newest series out is that of Breathless. The first book has been released and is titled Just Once More. If you love stories that will make you cry, scream, curse, and fall in love then this is the series for you. Everyone has that one love in their life that they will always remember, the one that will always leave them...breathless. Ms. Beau enjoys writing, reading, taking long walks, playing with all her children, and the Pittsburgh Steelers. She is an animal lover and will contribute a portion of her royalties to animal rescue and shelters nationwide.Sophie Slade is the author of Erotic Romance. She started writing TOUCHED BY A VAMPIRE, never intending to publish it. However, her husband read it, loved it, and encouraged her to finish writing the book. Now, this book is the first in the series ETERNALLY YOURS. The next book in the series, CROSSROADS, and stand-alone books IF TOMORROW NEVER COMES and THE CHRISTMAS RING, along with the first book in another series PLEASING THE PACK (DIAMOND PACK ALPHAS, BOOK 1) are coming soon from Simply Sexy Reads. Sophie has a Bachelor of Arts in Communications, News Editorial sequence, from the University of Tennessee at Martin, and a minor in English. Sophie is a full-time author and resides in Florida with her husband and children.R. G. Williamson: I'm a happily married family man from the North of England, UK.I like the feeling a good book gives me. I like to feel emotionally attached to the characters, I want to live their lives, I want to worry about them, laugh with them, cry with them, celebrate their achievements with them, love them, hate them, but most importantly, I want to feel something, anything.I hope you enjoy my writing style and come away from my books feeling something! Phoebe Parkes: After I got over the rejection of not becoming a Bond girl, I set my goals a little lower in the world of fast cars, sexy men and bank accounts that match their crotch sizes - yes, HUGE. I decided it was about time that all these glorious characters that I dream up needed to be brought to life. So Bond's loss is my gain, because I don't just get stuck with one 007 I get as many as I want and I can have them as gorgeous as I want them, as sexy as they deserve or sometimes even dark and disturbing but still ultimately phoaar. (Hopefully ☺)I mean come on, who the heck really needs to 'bond' with Bond eh when you can dream up a whole cast of hot, muscled, sun-kissed, drop dead gorgeous males! When you can have men that all fall at your feet, worship your creative mind... lust after your curves and swoon at your utter gorgeousness... Yeah, that doesn't happen either, well not on the scale you're imagining anyway, wink-wink.So, this is me, armed and dangerous, my mind honed and poised and ready with enough ammo to bring a horde of sexy mayhem. The stories in my head are finally being let loose. I apologise in advance for any loss of control, hernias or sheer frustration caused as a result of my imagination. Any legal action, (which would be completely unwarranted), should be taken up with the person who was the Bond Girl dream wrecker, in other words, it really isn't my fault so my conscience is clear. ;-)Finally shutting up (yes me) and leaving you with a more serious thought, please sit back, relax and enjoy my over-indulgent brain cells as they go into over-drive to bring you some British shenanigans, done the Phoebe Parkes way. Enjoy ☺
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February 16, 2016
#TeaserTuesday #Author_Author Lissa Bryan
This week, Lissa Bryan is giving us a sneak peek at the fourth installment in the End of All Things series!
It started with a virus...
A generation has passed since the pandemic known only as the Infection ended the world as we know it. The world in which Taylor struggles to survive is a harsh and brutal place.
Here is a sample of the first chapter, and the beginning of a new journey.
She woke to the sound of screams and gunfire.
Taylor sat up, looking around her darkened room, holding her breath as she listened. For a moment, all she heard was the pounding of her own heart and then there was another shriek, this one not far away. Taylor rolled out of her bed and crouched low, heading for the window. She used the side of her fist to rub away some of the grime that coated the glass on the inside, though the outside was still clouded and all she could see an ominous orange glow and wavering shadows.
Oh no oh no…
Feet pounded down the sidewalk in front of her room and the shadowy outline of human forms darted past her windows. Someone was crying, horrible sharp sobs.
Taylor crept to the other side of the window where a hole had been broken out of one of the panes long ago. She slowly pulled out the rag stuffed in the gap and peered out. A body lay in the parking lot outside her window and she smothered a gasp by pressing a hand to her mouth. The bloodied head was turned away from her, but she recognized that tangle of blonde curls and the green sweat pants the body wore. It was Grace, and she was dead.
Tears burned in Taylor’s eyes, but she forced them down, swallowing hard. A loud bang drew her gaze, and she saw a man with a rifle kick in the door of a room on the opposite side of the parking lot. He charged in and emerged seconds later, dragging a woman by her hair.
Time to go. Taylor didn’t know what was going on, but she could figure that out later.
She crawled over to her bed, keeping low, and reached beneath the mattress. Years ago, a large hole had been gouged out of the underside. It made a perfect cavity for stashing her bag to keep it safe from thieves.
She heard a bang next door and a louder scream and ran for the bathroom. As her hand touched the knob, she glanced back at the dresser.
Shadows flickered outside her window.
I can’t—
After a moment of hesitation, Taylor bit her lip and darted back to the dresser. The pulls had long ago been stolen or broken off, and she had to scratch with her fingers at the sides of the drawer to get a grip. She finally managed to yank it open and scooped out the small box inside, tucking it below her arm as she ran for the bathroom. She shut the door behind her, flipping its pathetically flimsy lock.
She hoisted herself up onto the toilet tank and pushed the transom window up. The glass had been broken out long ago and was now covered with pieces of plastic she easily pushed from the frame.
She peeked outside but didn’t see anyone. Smoke stung her nose and the sky was orange with the reflected flames, getting brighter with every moment. There was the loud retort of a gunshot and a scream cut off with horrifying abruptness. Taylor shoved the small box into her bag and looped it over her shoulder.
With a small grunt of effort, Taylor hauled herself up and crammed her body through the window, not taking time to care about the scrapes and scratches from the metal frame. She fell with a thud to the pavement below and winced as she wobbled to her feet.
She should make for the woods, she decided. Run like hell and don’t look back until she knew she was safe, but to get there, she had to pass through the end of town, and she already saw signs of chaos down the street.
Copper, the owner of the bar on the corner, knelt in the middle of the street while a man with a machete stood over him, watching as others carried out boxes of bottles from the building to a waiting wagon. The flames glinted off his ginger hair and Taylor saw that Copper was crying, his shoulders shaking as he wept.
Not that way, then.
Taylor crept along the back wall of the motel, crouched low, keeping her head down. She reached the corner and peeked around the edge.
A man stood there, grinning. “Hands up.”
There weren’t any options at the moment. Taylor complied. “Please, don’t hurt me.”
“I got another one!” the man shouted back over his shoulder. “Come here.”
Taylor nodded. She started to stand up, but lost her balance and toppled over. With an exhalation of impatience, the man stuck a hand out to grab her. Taylor felt a strange zing of energy bolt through her.
Now.
She grabbed the back of his hand and before he could react, twisted it hard, cupping her other hand over his elbow and forcing it flat, against the bend. Before he could react to being thrown off balance, she rammed her foot down on the side of his kneecap. His roar of pain downed out the crunching of bone. He collapsed to the ground and Taylor swept up the baseball bat he’d dropped. She brought it down on the side of his head as hard as she could and spun around, looking to see if his scream had drawn anyone’s attention.
No one appeared in the gap between buildings.
Panting, she wiped her sweaty face and looked back down at the man’s body again, sprawled at her feet. He was wearing a t-shirt, and on his right forearm were a crudely tattooed series of numbers, a zero, at the wrist, a nine above it and an eight in the center of his forearm. Each number below the eight had several vertical lines through it.
“Oh my God, it’s the Nine,” Taylor whispered. For a moment, her knees felt wobbly.
Taking several quick breaths, she reminded herself she didn’t have time to panic. She looked around again to see if she’d been spotted and then ran toward an old, rusted dumpster behind the next building.
The Nine. It can’t be the Nine. Oh my God, I’ve—
Her own breathing was the loudest sound and she struggled to get it under control. Her hands were shaking so hard it was difficult to grip the bat. She could see the entire roof of the motel was now covered in a sheet of flame, and from the columns of smoke, it wasn’t the only building on fire.
She had to get to the gap in the fence so she could make it to the woods. She would be safe there. She could hide there.
The first three books in the End of All Things series are now available in a single volume set for only $9.99.
About the Author
Lissa Bryan is an astronaut, renowned Kabuki actress, Olympic pole vault gold medalist, Iron Chef champion, and scientist who recently discovered the cure for athlete's foot.... though only in her head. Real life isn't so interesting, which is why she spends most of her time writing.Website
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RELEASE TOUR & #Giveaway: Privilege by Sandra Marton
Privilege: Book 2 S.T.U.D. Series
Bianca Bellini Wilde, a brainy and beautiful psychologist, grew up in a home where the only things she could count on were the volatility of her Sicilian mother’s temperament and the here-today-gone-tomorrow behavior of her American father. Now Bianca lives a safe, predictable life. She has a career, a perfect studio apartment in a perfect Manhattan neighborhood and, of course, she has her family. If she does ever add anything to her existence it’ll be a safe marriage, probably to one of the very nice, very safe men she dates, a condo not far from where she currently lives, and the requisite two children.Who could possibly need anything else? Planning is everything. Chayton Olivieri, a tough, arrogant-as-hell warrior in a Special Forces military unit, was raised on a Sioux reservation by a mother who was a meth addict and a father who got even with the world by beating the crap out of Chay. Chay learned early on that the only person he could depend on was himself. That was what won him a college degree; it was what got him into the SEALs and then into STUD—Special Tactical Units Division. Chay owns a ramshackle beach house near the STUD base in Santa Barbara, California. He leads a life of danger and excitement, and he has all the beautiful women he wants. Who could possibly need anything else? Risk is everything. Bianca has just begun her career by joining a group practice. She meets with clients in a suite of rooms on a quiet street in the East Sixties. She’s good at what she does. Helping people conquer their demons is important—and if sometimes those demons seem nothing more than the selfish dissatisfactions of people with too much money and too much time on their hands, well, who is she to judge? Chay’s missions take him from the mountains of Afghanistan to the streets of Mogadishu. He excels at what he does. It’s demanding. It’s exciting. It’s for a cause he believes in—most of the time. And if he’s not sure what he’ll do with his life years from now when he’s no longer a STUD, at least he knows what he won’t do. Settling down in one place, marriage, kids... Great for other people, but never for him. Especially not for him. As different as they are, the heat Bianca and Chay generate is impossible to deny. The raw sexuality of it panics Bianca and makes Chay long for more. Still, after a couple of quick encounters, they both know it’s best to stay away from each other. And they do—until Bianca becomes the target of a serial killer, and the only man who can possibly save her is Chay. Which is when things begin to get really, really complicated.
Buy Links:Amazon I iBooks I kobo
Power: Book 1 S.T.U.D. SeriesTanner Akecheta, whose last name means “warrior” in Sioux, is part of a highly skilled military group, the Special Tactical Units Division, otherwise known as S.T.U.D. Tanner’s mission: he’s going to be dropped into the jungle in a small, war-torn Central American country, find kidnapped Alessandra Bellini Wilde and return her to the States and her father, four-star General John Hamilton Wilde. Tanner expects to deal with a scared, spoiled rich girl. What he finds instead is a smart, independent-minded woman—and a passion so hot it threatens to consume them both. This sexy, exciting book is the first in Sandra Marton’s brand new S.T.U.D. series. Warning! You’re about to meet the heroes of your dreams! Buy Links:AmazonI Barnes & NobleI Google Play I iBooks I kobo
Author Bio: Sandra Marton, a USA Today Bestselling author, writes sexy, emotional romances about Alpha heroes and the smart, independent women who tame them. Sandra's beloved Wilde family saga continues...and now the Bellini-Wilde sisters are meeting the gorgeous, hard-bodied heroes who will conquer them and claim their love. POWER, Sandra's newest book, also introduces her latest Alphas: the men of STUD, former SEALS who have been tapped for membership in an even tougher, more secret organization. Website
RELEASE TOUR & #Giveaway: Choice of Enemies by M.A. Richards
CHOICE OF ENEMIES is the first in a series of espionage novels featuring Nathan Monsarrat, a retired Central Intelligence Agency deep cover operative with an extensive knowledge of black gold and expertise in weapons, women, and Benjamins.Light sweet crude is the mother’s milk of the Niger Delta.As the price for each barrel of oil rises on the international markets and the stakes for securing the black gold increase, a consortium of American oil companies and the Central Intelligence Agency plot to secure the flow of the crude.In Africa, though, plans unravel as quickly as cheap socks, and promises between partners have the lifespan of a mayfly.Nathan, now a Dean at a small college in Massachusetts, is visited by his former mentor at the Agency, who offers him a blunt choice: either travel to the Dark Continent to lay the groundwork for the coup d'état, or condemn the woman who saved his life to a brutal execution.Out of options, he returns to Africa, where he discovers that the Agency plans to reward his services with an oil soaked grave.Assisted by a coterie of new and old allies, including a beautiful vor with a thirst for power and a yeshiva bocher with a fondness for Armani suits, as well as his own sharp intelligence, considerable wit, and substantial charm, Nathan parries the Agency, circumvents the consortium, and exacts his own vengeance. In doing so, he learns that his choice of friends is as important as his choice of enemies.
I. THE DELTAIN THE COOL OF THE AFRICAN DAWNIn the cool of the African dawn, six armored Suburbans bulled through the sodden Delta jungle toward Bonny Island. In their wake, whirlwinds of red dirt billowed upward toward the crown canopy. Inside the vehicles, frigid air filtered the jungle stench of rot and decay. Felix Sanhedrin, a twenty-five-year veteran of covert operations in Africa and the Middle East, sat on the rear bench of the convoy’s second Suburban like Allan Quatermain returned to the Dark Continent. White linen slacks, a blue Oxford shirt, a silk ascot, and a freshly pressed, khaki bush jacket adorned his thin frame. A device more computer than chronometer rested on his left wrist. His felt slouch hat boasted a faux leopard-skin band, and his canvas jungle boots gleamed. A Glock 19 nested in a leather holster on his right hip.Sanhedrin’s new boots rested atop two green, canvas duffel bags stuffed withBenjamin Franklins, and he carried with him, like a talisman, the blessings of the Mandarins who guided the operations of the Central Intelligence Agency in Langley, Virginia. Despite their stated policy to never negotiate with the enemies of the United States, Sanhedrin had convinced the éminences grises to ransom his assistant, Nathan Monsarrat, from the rebel group called Fighters Against Terror in Africa, or FATA.He issued orders like a young boy presenting Santa Claus with his Christmas list.“First rule: I’m in charge, and my word is law. Second rule: we take only Monsarrat with us. Final rule: my money’s bought your silence. Neither you nor your shooters nor your medics will speak of this mission to anyone. Never repeat, never. Capish, my new friend?”Next to Sanhedrin, Mark Palmer wore funereal black, a shooter’s vest, tee shirt,tactical pants, jungle boots, baseball cap, Nomex gloves, and sunglasses. Years beneath the African sun had braised his face and arms. He was clean shaven, and his hair was cut in a brown bristle. Military tattoos covered both his forearms, and blue veins latticed his knotted muscles. He carried an M4 rifle, a brace of Heckler and Koch P30 pistols in nylon holsters strapped to his thighs, a combat knife, commo gear, and four P30 magazines looped onto his belt. The shooter’s vest held extra M4 mags.He spoke with a soft, southern drawl. “Five by five, Mr. Scarnagh. No worries. We were never here.”Sanhedrin had declared himself to Palmer by his work name, Fineghan Scarnagh. He operated under the letters F and S, keeping with the monograms on his shirt cuffs. Felix and Fineghan. Sanhedrin and Scarnagh. “You should call me Fineghan. After all, we’re in the same line of work.”“What line of work would that be, if you don’t mind my asking?”“I’m an independent oil consultant. I work with firms in Africa. Occasionally in Russia. Often in the Middle East.”“Funny we haven’t met before, me being the chief of security for the biggest oil services company in Africa,” Palmer offered.Sanhedrin prided himself on his light touch. “I’m a traveling oil gun for hire.”Palmer smiled politely. “Have you worked with my company previously, Fineghan?”Sanhedrin admitted that he had not experienced the pleasure. “What about you, Mark? How’d you get into the oil business?”Palmer gestured toward the two men in the front of the Suburban. “We’re specialists—Frank, Joe, and me. We have skill sets that oil companies find attractive.”“Former army?” Sanhedrin asked, although he had memorized the personal history of every man and woman in the convoy.Shafts of golden sunlight as thin as reeds cast shadowed patterns on the hardscrabble road. Joe Marinelli drove the Suburban, while Frank Rollins navigated in the shotgun seat. They might have been clones of Palmer. They wore the same clothes and carried the same equipment, save each sported a mustache, closely trimmed beard, and hair plaited into a single braid, blonde for Rollins and brown for Marinelli.“Afghanistan, Iraq, Yemen, Somalia, Eritrea, South Sudan,” Palmer replied. “You name it, if it’s in the shit, we fought there.”“Rangers for Joe and me,” Rollins answered.“Scrolls, not tabs,” Marinelli added. “Mark was a Special Forces light bird. Compared to him, Frank and me are cub scouts.”Compliments bored Palmer. “Monsarrat also claimed to be an independent oil consultant. Like you, he worked in Africa, Russia, and the Middle East.”“You know him?” Sanhedrin inquired.“We met a few times in Abuja and Lagos. Port Harcourt, more often.”“It’s a small world, isn’t it?”Palmer recited his sums for Sanhedrin. “In my small world, people who claim to be independent oil consultants are usually CIA spooks. Not that I have anything against spooks, other than they can’t be trusted.”“I’m sorry for your hard times,” Sanhedrin commiserated, “although I’m not your usual independent oil consultant.”“Roger that,” Palmer agreed, “you carrying a Glock on your hip.”“It’s just window dressing,” Sanhedrin answered modestly. “Did you have problem cashing my check?”“Your payment sailed through the bank.”“Is it my couture that bothers you?”Palmer had attempted to trace the background of Fineghan Scarnagh. His head hurt from banging it against the maze of brick walls he had encountered. “Truthfully, I smell Agency all over you.”Sanhedrin brushed his fingertips across the holster. “My cologne upsets you?”In the front of the Suburban, Rollins and Marinelli eyed the dirt road for threats while listening hard to the conversation. Each bore scars from prior Langley operations.“In my experience,” Palmer continued, “when the Agency runs an operation, things usually turn south real fast, and the shit splatters everyone involved, save the boys and girls from Langley. So I’m only asking for confirmation.”“Confirmation of what, exactly?”Palmer exuded patience. “Confirmation this is Langley’s operation.”“Me? An Agency spy? Perish the thought!” Sanhedrin protested.Palmer’s distrust of the man next to him increased each time he uttered a sentence. “If you say so, Fineghan. What about Monsarrat?”“I have no clue,” Sanhedrin deadpanned. “We’ve never met.”In Palmer’s weltanschauung, the most dangerous spooks supplied the glibbest answers. “Yet, you’re here to ransom him from the rebels.”“Like I said, Mark, I’m a traveling oil gun for hire. I take the shit jobs nobody else wants or can pull off.”“You’re also a specialist?”“In my own area of operations.”Sanhedrin rubbed a smudge of dirt from the toe of his right boot against the driver’s seat. “Tell me about Monsarrat.”“He’s a big, smart, tough guy.”“It sounds like you were friends.”“I wouldn’t say friends,” Palmer corrected. “More like professional associates. I was sorry to hear the rebels took him from the oil rig, but until you called my bosses, I had no brief to go after him.”Sanhedrin appreciated men with military backgrounds. They accepted their roles without the sturm und drang civilians brought to operations. He prodded the conversation in a new direction. “How many shooters are you holding in reserve?”“A half dozen with the Blackhawks, a few miles from our destination. If the balloon goes up, they’ll ride to our rescue like Valkyries with rotors.”“Let’s hope none of us is headed for Valhalla,” Sanhedrin sniffed.
I adore this book! M. A. Richards is a first-time author, but I rank CHOICE OF ENEMIES with the best novels of Martin Cruz Smith and Daniel Silva. The novel is written with passion, excitement, and knowledge – Richards certainly knows the dirty world of government and espionage. His pacing is taut, and his language is a joy to read. His sense of location is superb; I smelled the stench of oil in the Delta and felt the heat of the desert in Namibia. Most importantly, Nathan Monsarrat is one of the most likeable heroes I’ve met. When the novel ended (I read it in 48 hours), I was sad that the adventure was over but thrilled I had discovered Nathan Monsarrat. Also, Nathan’s antagonist, Felix Sanhedrin, is a delicious villain, a manipulative, dishonest, and neurotic full-bodied character. The relationship between Nathan and Felix is subtly drawn by Richards and is one of the most enjoyable aspects of this excellent novel. I grant it five stars and recommend it 100%!
By Y. H. Park on January 19, 2016
AMAZON ~ GOODREADS
M. A. Richards is the author of the Nathan Monsarrat international espionage novels.Born in Lowell, Massachusetts, he received his Bachelor of Arts degree in Theater Studies from Connecticut College and his Master of Arts degree in English from the University of Massachusetts at Amherst.During a career as a Cultural Attaché in the Department of State that spanned more than two decades, he served in Baghdad, Jerusalem, Lagos, Moscow, Seoul, Tel Aviv, and Washington, D.C. He also served at U.S. Pacific Command in Honolulu as the Special Advisor to the Commander. He speaks Arabic, Hebrew, Korean, and Russian.M. A. divides his time between Palm Beach and Tel Aviv, where he indulges his passions for motorcycles, photography, and archaeology.AMAZON ✯ WEBSITE ✯ FACEBOOK~PERSONAL ✯ FACEBOOK~AUTHOR ✯ GOODREADS ✯ TWITTER
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