Georgia Lyn Hunter's Blog, page 2
January 27, 2020
New Release: Impossible You + Excerpt…
Players to Men #2–Jack and Ray’s story is just around the corner!
Impossible You~A scintillating tale of cat and mouse…
Title: Impossible You
Series: Players to Men #2
Release: Feb 04, 2020
Cover artist, Montana Jade
BLURB
I’m in trouble…
Two impossible males—the rich as sin Jack Griffin and Wilbur, the cranky feline—have latched onto me and won’t let go. One is eating me out of my dorm, the other ruins my carefully organized one-night stand for the elusive O.
As tempting as Jack is with his wicked smile and sexy body, my plans for the future don’t include the notorious former player. Then, with a single, smoking kiss, he storms his way into my life with promises of pleasure. But I’m not the woman for him…even if I want to be. Our worlds are just too far apart.
One kiss was all it took for me to fall…
And the woman who knocks me off my axis is annoyingly dismissive of me. Because in Rayen Logan’s world, I don’t exist, a fact I damn-well intend to change. Her plan to attain her first O has my name on it, and she will be mine in every other way too as soon…as I can convince the difficult woman to let me prove that my player days are done.
Nothing will stand in my way of getting what I want, not even Ray herself.
Just when I think maybe we have a chance at a relationship, a life-long nemesis intrudes, determined to destroy the tenuous bonds forming between us…
***
Editorial Review:
Looking for an enemies-to-lovers romance that isn’t all about the hate? Look no further! Impossible you is a scintillating tale of cat and mouse, with a mouthwatering alpha hero who knows what he wants and isn’t afraid to do whatever it takes to get it... Chelle~Literal Addiction
“Omg, this book blew me away, but somehow I missed the first book so I just went and bought it. Love loved it.” ~ Jen Miller- Reviewer
Pre-Order:
Amazon-US | Amazon- UK | Amazon- CA | Amazon- AU
iBooks | Smash | Barnes&Noble | Kobo
***
Chapter One
Jack
The seas roiled, the massive waves crashing on the shore in welcome. Rain drummed down furiously on every surface, including me. A light mist obscured everything in a wet shroud, giving a sense of isolation.
It suited my dark mood perfectly.
“Jack! Have you lost your freakin’ mind?” Max roared from behind me.
Or damn near perfect, except for him.
“Those waves will suck you under in a heartbeat!”
Perhaps. But I didn’t care, I needed the liberation it offered. I glanced over my shoulder at my best friend, blinking away the rain as I shrugged. With babysitters on my ass, concessions had to be made. A decade ago, the three of us had taken a pledge that, when life sucked—and it did most times—we would call the other. Max and War turned up.
“I’ve done this before. I’ll be fine.”
“Don’t feed me that fucking line!” he yelled over the roar of the ocean. “I was there when we pulled you from the wipeout in Hawaii with near-fatal injuries! What the hell happened?”
Yeah, I remembered that. I’d been nineteen and fucked in the head. Still was.
“Nothing. All’s good.” I refocused my attention on the tumultuous ocean and zipped up my wetsuit, the slashing rain doing little to temper the anger churning within. I’d come to the beach to escape another nightmare. Thoughts of what had occurred earlier today still made me want to put my fist through something. I tugged on my flippers instead.
Max grabbed my arm, his wetsuit folded around his waist, revealing inked pecs and arms. His green eyes burned with ire. “What did she say this time?”
Oh, he’d sympathize for sure once he heard. Unlike War, who stood a short distance from us, surfboard at his feet, wetsuit on, watching us with a smirk. When I’d given him a brief rundown of the explosion with my family this morning, the bastard had offered his condolences.
“Just tell him, man,” War drawled. “Maybe Max has a suggestion.”
“What? Find some woman to fuck?” I growled. “Been there, done that crap for a long time. Not interested.” I cut Max a flat look. “Seems I’m in the running for a merger.”
His brow creased. “But that’s good, right?”
“Not when I am the merger.”
Max stared for a second, then he cursed. “Hell.”
“Exactly,” I muttered. “But I can deal with this…”
“Yeah. You refused, and she threw shit at you again,” Max said, his quiet words a detonation in the pummeling rain.
Bad blood will always show—
Christ. The words reverberated inside my churning head, dredging up a past I could never shut out. I shoved back my water-drenched hair. Max knew some of my clusterfuck, but not the one causing a deepening abyss inside me. A dark chasm I could never escape.
At times, I was sure it would swallow me whole. My stomach heaved, the numbness in my chest the only thing holding me together.
War walked up to us. “Guess the rich will never be rich enough.”
My jaw clenched. War had no idea of the ugly truth. He might be heading toward the category of the mega-wealthy, too, but it was through his own hard work, sweat, and broken bones, playing hockey. Yeah, he rammed his opponent to the ice, pounded them when in the game—the guy had a shit temper—but he didn’t destroy lives.
I was heir to the Griffin Blackstone Group—a mega-billion-dollar holding company—half of which had been built on the pain of others. And now, I had to deal with this latest fiasco.
“Let’s hit the damn waves.”
“Jack—” Max raked back his drenched blond hair, rivulets of water running down his concerned features. “Look, man, I’m the last one to tell you that things will be okay, and I ought to know, but you can’t ride the waves in this rain. Let’s wait it out—”
“This little shower?” I drawled as the deluge continued to batter us, causing Max to scowl. I picked up my board. “You coming, or you gonna hang here and nag like a girlfriend?”
“Asshole,” Max growled, eyes flashing in annoyance. He shoved his arms into his rubber suit and zipped up. “Hell, let’s go to a gym and pound the shit out of each other,” he said as if in a last-ditch attempt to save me. But no one could. Didn’t Max see that? My path had been set in stone the day I was born.
I lost the cockiness and shook my head. The thought of being confined within walls again clawed at my mind as more coldness seeped into me. “I can’t. I need this.”
War nodded instantly.
After several seconds, Max’s exhaled a rough breath. “Fine. I’m in. Can’t have your stubborn ass yanked under by the currents.”
Shutting him out and ignoring the No Swimming sign, I sprinted toward the violent waves colliding with the shoreline, blood pumping through my veins. With my body primed for action, needing the outlet provided by the rigorous—and dangerous, especially during this weather—sport, I threw myself on my board and swam out into the turbulent waters of Ocean Beach.
Yeah, I would need every canny instinct I possessed to work this and not fall into its perilous rip current trap. A sure way to take my mind off the new shitstorm I now faced.
RAY
The muted noise from the bar did little to block my frustrated thoughts as I sat in the cramped staff room during my ten-minute break, flexing my tired feet.
I needed a full-time summer job and new lodgings—in that order—within the next two weeks. Because if nothing panned out with the positions I applied for soon, I would have to ask Jude, Mulligan’s owner, to take me on full-time. I needed to earn enough to afford my first term fees when school started in the fall.
Sighing, I slipped on my shoes again, tucked back the pesky tendril of hair escaping my pigtails, and made my way back to the front.
I slowed as War, the god of hockey and my friend, strode my way. One of the groupies that always hung around glided toward him, but he waved her off. The guy was an amazing and brutal player on the ice, but sadly, a player outside of the rink, as well. With his good looks, muscular build, and striking, dark blue eyes offset by sun-kissed brown hair, women swarmed toward him when they saw him like bees to pollen, ducks to water—
“Another round for us, Ray,” he said as he drew closer.
At his not-too-happy stare, I kept my expression firm and smoothed my short black skirt. Nope, he wasn’t pleased that I’d refused to budge from the plans I had for later tonight. Heck, I’d even taken the early shift to make sure my mission O happened. He sighed but didn’t attempt to change my mind again.
“You’re worse than a brother, you know that?” I grumbled.
“If I truly were your blood, I’d lock you in a room,” he grumbled before disappearing down the corridor to the restroom.
Man, you’d think I was the first woman to initiate these plans, break some kind of guy code. I scrunched my face at his overprotective stance and headed to the bar.
Petra, my friend and bartender, lifted an eyebrow as I gave her the order.
“You okay?” she asked, drawing a beer on tap for a customer.
“I’ve been here for five hours. It’s a given I’d be dog-tired after that amount of time on my feet. Though, I wonder if dog-tired is the correct word,” I mused, leaning my elbows on the scarred wooden counter. “Sure, dogs get tired—but dog-tired? I mean, their tongues hang out, and they slurp water. It doesn’t relate, but…”
At her laugh, I broke off the sporadic rambling my over-weary brain sometimes drifted toward. It usually drove my sister crazy. I cast a quick look around the rowdy place, the tables mostly packed with men, their drunken laughter filling the air. The TV on the wall blared, adding to the noise
“What’s going on?” Petra asked.
“The usual.” I sighed. “Hunting for a summer job, new lodgings. I have to check out of the dorm in two weeks.”
“Why don’t you stay with Ila and her fiancé?”
“Great. Be the third wheel. My life’s ambition.” I rolled my eyes.
“Hmm, you do have a point…” She readied a couple of tequila shots for the customer seated at the counter.
“Hey, you!”
At the new voice, I pivoted as Denise, my best friend since high school, flung her arms around me in a quick hug. She was tiny, and just about reached my shoulders. At my five-eight height, I felt like a giant next to her at times. “I haven’t seen you for a while.”
“Been busy. What are you doing here?”
“Besides checking up on you? I’m meeting Chris. We’re having dinner with his folks in some restaurant in a little while. So, how goes the O quest?” She waggled her brows as if I didn’t know what she meant.
“That’s still on.”
“Someone here caught your fancy?” she asked a little too eagerly, smoothing back curly hair she’d scraped into a ponytail. Her solitaire engagement ring sparkled in the dim bar lights.
She was a year older than my twenty-one, and she’d already made the commitment. Me? I couldn’t even get past my phobia of being in a relationship with anyone, let alone get married. But it didn’t mean I didn’t want certain things from life. Hence my current dilemma.
“Hell, no. Not these drunks.” I grimaced, the noise behind me ricocheting. Howls of laughter followed. “I’m meeting Calum Moore later tonight.”
Her eyes bugged out. “You are? Wow… He’s good-looking, for sure, but he’s-he’s—”
“A player?” I snorted. “I’m not looking for a husband, Den.”
“True.” She laughed. “Ah, Chris is here—” She waved to the dark-haired guy waiting near the entrance then patted my arm. “I’ll call you. Let me know how it goes, okay?” Before I could utter a word, she scurried off, disappearing outside with her fiancé.
I glanced around, my attention settling on the back table, lorded over by the biggest players this side of San Francisco.
I liked them most times, when they weren’t irritating the life out of me—or whoring the nights away. Before the evening was over, they’d all head off with a woman to wet their wicks with—well, except for the tall, gorgeous, tattooed blond.
Max Sinclair, a reformed player, wore an intense expression as he leaned his forearms on the blemished wooden table—the array of tonal ink on his skin compelling even in the dim lighting—listening to whatever War said.
The entrance door swished open again, letting in a noisy crowd. A petite girl, dressed in a retro, sleeveless black-and-white top and a charcoal-gray skirt, followed. As if a cord connected them, Max glanced back.
How he sensed her, I had no idea. Pleasure lit his face. Yup. Only for my sister did he smile that way—like she existed for him alone. He rose as Ila hurried over, and then he kissed her. She slid her arms around his neck, her engagement ring glittering in the subdued lighting. They were getting married mid-July—in a month’s time.
My sister deserved happiness after what her dirtbag ex-fiancé had done, nearly destroying her in the process. It had taken Max to bring her back to life.
If I ever changed my mind about the male species, I wanted the same thing. Someone to go gaga, to go all-out and love me with the same intensity that Max loved Ila. But that seemed unlikely. Especially if this lot here was what humanity had to offer currently. Hence my plan to get my O-card filled.
“Here you go.” Petra set my order on the tray.
I picked it up and headed for the players’ table.
They were done with university and had ventured out into the big, dangerous world of work a few years ago. Max had joined the family’s banking business. War played professional hockey for the SF Cheetahs. And Jack? He’d gone into the family business, too. Something about hotels. Max had mentioned it once. Probably personally testing out the flexibility of every mattress in all the hotels worldwide.
I hadn’t seen him in several months—since last fall, if I wasn’t mistaken—not even in this place, his favorite watering hole. And…boom, he suddenly arrived for Max’s big announcement several weeks ago.
A frown tugged at my brow, a teeny bit of concern filtering through me. He appeared…withdrawn. Tired. He tunneled his fingers through his trendily cut inky hair, the sides shorter than the top, tousling its normally immaculate look. Those ice-gray eyes abruptly looked up and met mine. And then he winked. The urge to punch him grew. The jerk hadn’t changed at all.
Jack Griffin had been born with the morals of an alley cat, always on the prowl for his next tail. Now in his mid-twenties, one would think he’d start to reevaluate his life. Nope, not the king of players. Why would he when life not only handed him a silver spoon but also put women on a platter?
As I passed a table of suits, a hand slid over my backside and had me gritting my teeth—damn horny assholes. I glared over my shoulder, and the clean-shaven shithead threw me a tipsy smirk. If only Jude hadn’t added the no-punching-customers clause to the workforce rules recently. I did it twice—twice! And the ridiculous notice went up in the staff’s poky kitchen.
Clamping down on my molars, I continued to the back table. Jack leaned forward on his chair, forearms resting on the wooden table, staring sideways in my direction. He wasn’t looking at me, but right past me—eh. Whatevs.
Ignoring Jack’s cold glower and whatever bug had bitten his butt, I set down the drinks. Those startling pale eyes flickered back to me. Heck, add that to his perfectly chiseled features, the slight cleft in his chin, and it left little doubt as to why all the women lined up to add more notches to his bedpost. He was irritatingly handsome and a pain in my ass.
But this part always gave me the greatest pleasure. I set the bill for the night near his elbow.
Max was engaged to my sister. War, I liked. Jack could pick up the damn check. Which he did. But it barely made a dent in his deep pockets. What I hated more was that he always left a two-hundred-dollar tip for me, no matter how small the tab.
A pale-skin brunette in a low-cut top, sidled to his side, lowered her head and whispered something in his ear. She dropped her napkin, and it floated to his lap. Now, she’d go fishing down south with an open invitation.
Barely suppressing my snort, I dispensed the drinks, ignoring the sharp look Jack cut me. Who knew he could hear me with so much estrogen enclosing him?
“You’re finishing your shift now, right?” my sister asked as I passed her a vodka tonic.
“Yep, I’m done.”
“Then you’re coming over to the loft?”
Damn. “No…” Instinctively, I cut War a furtive look. “I have plans tonight.”
“Really?” she asked, lifting a skeptical eyebrow.
“If you must know, it’s a date.” A hookup. A one-night stand. Who the heck cared what it was called? My sexual encounters left me staring at the ceiling, waiting for it to be over. And for once, I wanted someone to knock me off my feet, blow my mind to the next state. An experienced guy to introduce me to the carnal side of life I’d only read about, convinced me it was the way to go, and without the ties or any of the awkward morning-after convo.
Yup, it was a great present to myself. I’d wanted to hire an escort, but War had protested vehemently. Just as well since I couldn’t afford one on my budget.
War only knew about this because I needed a guy’s input. I couldn’t ask Max, he’d simply veto my plans, going all big brother on me. And him? I wouldn’t even share the same air space with the killjoy. So, War it was.
“Who?” Ila demanded.
Ugh. “It’s er, umm…in the early stages. Until I’m sure, then I’ll tell you.” Hopefully, it would be over and done with before that happened.
“Ray.” Ila cut me a gimlet glare. “I know you. Whatever you’re planning, it’s not good.”
“You’re forever on my back, telling me to date.” I sniffed innocently, stroking my beaten silver thumb ring with my index finger. “Now I am, and you’re still not happy.”
“Yes, because you won’t say who.”
I wiped my guilt-damp palms on my skirt, suddenly aware that the king of players was no longer interested in queen slutty’s banter. Those pale eyes were pinned on me like lasers.
“I will soon,” I evaded, collecting the empties, ignoring Jack’s penetrating stare. My sister could be so tenaciously persistent.
“It’s with me,” War said.
“Dammit, War!” A growl breaking free, I snatched the tray and escaped to sign off for the evening. Let him handle the heat since he’d let the cat out of the bag. If he breathed one word of the truth to either Max or Ila, so help me, War was so dead.
***
Read Chapter 2 HERE
October 14, 2019
New Release: Arial’s Triumph by Liza O’Connor
Arial’s Triumph
SkyRders Series
Book 1
By Liza O’Connor
Blurb
Arial Logan is the best flier in the world and MAC, the computer program that manages the Corp, wishes to have more with her genetic talent. However, Arial’s mother, General Alisha Logan, has an equally strong determination to protect her daughter from all romantic interests. When Arial falls in love with a new Colonel, her mother is willing to sacrifice not only Colonel Adam’s life, but also the lives of thirty soldiers to keep her daughter safe from the soldiers.
Note: Officers of Rank are referred to as “Sir” regardless of sex.
***
Excerpt 3
“So, you aren’t a medic?” he asked, trying to ignore the swarm of medics working on his leg.
“No, but I help out here sometimes. My father was a field medic.”
“So, what are you?”
“A SkyRyder.”
“A cadet.” He reached up, removing her hand from his hair. No matter how much he had been enjoying her touch, now that he knew she was a cadet, it had to stop. “How long have you been at the academy?”
She laughed. “Since I was born.”
He smiled. “Don’t worry. I know it sometimes seems like that, but you will graduate, I promise you.”
She stared down at him. “Will you give me special training?” Suddenly she didn’t look nearly so young and innocent.
God she was tempting! “How old are you?”
“Old enough.” She leaned over and placed her lips softly on his.
“Air!” Dr. Culp chided. “If you are going to raise his blood pressure, then you are going to have to leave.”
The girl sighed and straightened.
“So, Colonel Adams, where do you come from?” she asked as if they had just met for the first time.
The colonel knew he should reprimand her for kissing him. It was completely out of line, but he didn’t want to embarrass her in front of the medic staff.
“I’m from Minnesota.”
She grimaced. “It’s cold there, right?”
God she was pretty. “Yeah, if I’d crash-landed there, I probably wouldn’t have hurt myself at all. We wear a lot of padding. We look like flying snowmen.”
She laughed. “No, you don’t. You wear polypro tens.”
He raised his eyebrow, surprised she would know that. “Don’t tell me you’re from Minnesota, because I would have remembered you.”
“Yes, you certainly would have.” She laughed as if she held a great secret. “There are three cadets from Minnesota here right now. I’m good friends with one of them.”
***
D2D
Links for many booksellers
About the Author
Liza O’Connor lives in Denville, NJ with her dog Jess. They hike in fabulous woods every day, rain or shine, sleet or snow. Having an adventurous nature, she learned to fly small Cessnas in NJ, hang-glide in New Zealand, kayak in Pennsylvania, ski in New York, scuba dive with great white sharks in Australia, dig up dinosaur bones in Montana, sky dive in Indiana, and raft a class four river in Tasmania. She’s an avid gardener, amateur photographer, and dabbler in watercolors and graphic arts. Yet through her entire life, her first love has and always will be writing novels.
Social Networks
FOR MORE INFORMATION ABOUT
Investigate these sites:
Liza’s Blog and Website Facebook Twitter
September 16, 2019
New release: Winter’s Awakening~excerpt…
The Warlords. Brenna and Seb’s book is almost here!
Only she can awaken an icy warlord’s immortal heart, but can she survive the aftermath?
COVER:
Montana Jade
Title: Winter’s Awakening
Series: Warlords of Empyrea #2
Release: Sept 17th, 2019
BLURB:
Dark warlord Sebris will sacrifice anything to save his angelic dominion of Dregarus, even shed his own blood. Snatching the foretold mortal from her world is nothing—as long as she can find the missing artifact their realm desperately needs to survive. He expects a mere pawn, not a fragile human woman who confuses and tempts him, stirring in him a desire that is as dangerous as it’s deadly.
After a freak accident lands florist Brenna Graham in a coma, she awakens to find herself in another world and in the care of a cold, ruthless immortal. The Darkrean leader both draws and terrifies her. Still, she’s furious over the abduction she unwittingly agreed to. But the longer she’s with him, the more she discovers an unexpected, tender side to the icy warlord. As barriers shatter and rigid laws are broken, an unabiding passion consumes them.
Except, time is not on their side in the dying, war-ridden world. But for a chance at a future and an ever-lasting love, they must fight for survival. When unseen enemies target Brenna, their bond is brutally tested. Sebris vows to bring down dominions to save the woman who became his heart…
***
Preorder: AMAZON | KOBO | NOOK | iBOOKS | SMASH
***
Editorial Review:
“Another great action-packed adventure, teeming with tension and excitement, from Georgia Lyn Hunter. The broody, sexy, Alpha warlord with a heart of gold and the brave, snarky heroine make this story a must-read for Urban Fantasy and Paranormal Romance fans.” ~Celia Breslin
***
EXCERPT:
Chapter One
“Seb, it’s time.”
Cursed stars! Sebris bit back a snarl at the rough shake of his shoulder, pain shrieking through his skull. Impossible agony bled not only through his head but into his bones, too. “Xev, I swear on our useless creator, you’ll be dust coating this damn realm if you do that again—”
Teeth clenched, he sat up, feet hitting the cold floor. “What in Urias’ hell did I do?”
“You went straight through two bottles of vodka last night—or what was left of the dark hours,” Xever, his ever-helpful second-in-command expounded as if he needed a damn answer. But using liquor as a crutch certainly didn’t help him.
Sebris dragged his naked self from the bed and stumbled to the bathroom, wishing it were a hangover giving him the bone-eating anguish.
“Seb?”
“For hell’s sake, later—” He winced, more pain dripping through his skull like acid at his burst of irritation. Emotions, not good—not good at all…
Breathing deeply through his nose, he tried to shut out everything, lock down his mental shields, but nothing worked. Of all the senseless things he’d done, and there’d been plenty in his impossibly long life, boozing to numb the pain was topping the list.
He, the leader and commander of Dregarus’ vast militia, sought succor in alcohol.
A snort sounded. Sebris knew what was coming, didn’t want to hear it. “Cork it, Xev.”
His second plowed on regardless. “You know you could go find a female here and fuck that pain back into submission?” Like Sebris needed the reminder. “It would hold you until we get back home and can equate. You’ll get rid of all the er…” Xev sought for a word, humor animating his eyes. “Crabbiness. Sure, liquor dulls the pain some, but the backlash bites ass. Aftermath’s hell. Mortal females are a far better indulgence.”
“I don’t need your lecture. I have the damn council members for that. And I don’t do humans.” Sebris shut the bathroom door on Xev’s grinning face.
Crabby, he wasn’t. Pissed definitely. He’d slept—passed out, whatever—in this dratted hot human world. As a Darkrean, his kind preferred the cold and lesser sunlight.
He hadn’t been back to Dregarus in weeks to equate. His powers had flatlined days ago. They always did when his kind stepped foot out of their world. The wound on his abs from the fight several days ago with the Empyrean in The Village hurt like a bitch. Even his healing abilities had slowed. Now he walked around tight-lipped, black-eyed, and ghost pale, the downside of not equating.
Releasing a shuddering breath, he staggered into the shower and turned on the faucet. Fists planted on the tiled wall, he squeezed his eyelids shut. Cold water pelted him like needles, but was still too tepid, accustomed as he was to the sub-zero temperatures of Dregarus.
Soon enough, the alcoholic fumes cleared from his mind, but another spike of pain impaled his head. Stars! He wanted to gouge out his eyeballs. Mowing down on his jaw made it worse. He had to calm down, or he would be crawling back to Dregarus on his hands and knees, dragging the foretold one behind him.
Not even finally finding the female—the only one possessing the blood magic to track the missing mystical Stone of Light his world desperately needed to stop from fading into oblivion—made a dent in his ire.
Several minutes later, the pain-induced sweat showered off, he stepped out of the cubicle and dragged a towel from the rail, rubbing his wet hair before hitching the terrycloth around his hips. Raking his fingers through the damp, tangled strands, he lumbered toward the kitchen.
Xever set a mug of steaming black java on the counter, looking as energetic as a damn grasshopper. His eyes no longer bore the black strains that seeped into their irises when their powers drained, but they still appeared a murky gray. A thin black hairband held back his blond hair, revealing the multiple small hoops he wore in his left ear, the fine gold metal glinting in the kitchen light.
Sebris picked up his coffee, took a drink of the bitter brew, and bit back a curse. The liquid nearly caused second-degree burns in his throat. He aimed a flat stare at Xever. “We should have left when we had the chance. She could have healed on our world.”
“What do you suggest then?” Xever leaned against the kitchen counter, arms folded over his chest. Jagged tattoos peered out from the collar of his t-shirt and covered most of his biceps. “There’s an ice storm currently happening. We can’t risk her in it when she’s weak and injured. She is mortal. She dies, then we might as well lay down and call it quits, too.”
Sebris understood Xev’s fears. Their world of Empyrea resonated with arcane magic, tapped from the seven mystical Stones of Light. Two thousand years ago, one of the Stones suddenly vanished, and the link broke, causing their magic to diminish. The missing artifact had to be found and brought back before their realm faded into one of desolateness, and their demise followed.
But for Sebris, it was so much more than merely saving his world.
Pulling in a deep breath through his nose, he exhaled slowly. “I don’t need you to be my damn conscience as well,” he muttered without heat, managing to get his mental shields back up. The pain locked deep inside his bones from using a shitload of emotions eased a little. “I know what’s at stake.”
Xever picked up his mug from the counter. “You could have gone to Dregarus and equated. I would have kept watch over her here.”
Why he hadn’t asked any of his deadly warriors to do so, males who’d spent millennia with him searching for the Stone, he had no idea. He only understood one thing; he trusted no one near her. “I’m not taking any chances.”
Xever frowned, then shrugged and let it go, sipping his coffee.
Three days ago, they’d taken the mortal, Brenna Tiwari-Graham according to the label on her hospital chart, age twenty-four, straight from the hospital in New York where she’d been admitted for a head injury, then found they couldn’t actually leave the human realm with her. Their own world’s problem, a cursed blizzard, had stopped them.
If they didn’t need to equate, he would have been tracking for the missing artifact as soon as she’d recovered. But he was patient. He’d waited millennia. A few more days mattered little.
Sebris set his mug down. “Let’s get going before something else gets in our way.”
Refastening the towel sliding low on his hips, he left the kitchen and navigated the long stretch of corridor, stopping at the first door. He opened it and entered.
Unlike the first time, her floral scent didn’t hit him with a brutal punch in his gut, but seeped into him like a gentle caress. Shutting off his disconcerting reaction to the little human, in the same way he had his pain, he frowned at the purple bruise marring her left brow and cheek.
It still hadn’t healed. She must have slammed into the wall or the concrete ground damn hard. Her ebony, shoulder-length hair lay like lifeless seaweed against the white pillow, and despite her pale caramel coloring, her skin bore the ashy undertone of her ailment.
Except for the local doctor whom Xever had willed to attend to her, they’d remained isolated in this cottage Xever had rented for a week. Sebris refused to linger in the mansion situated further down the Hudson River with the Empyreans watching it like hawks. More, he wanted to be close to the soft spot in the woods surrounding the cottage to open the portal back into their world.
He sat on the bed and reached out to heal the bruise on her temple, but instead found himself tracing the delicate curve of her cheekbone with a fingertip then trailing across her lush top lip. Her feminine nose tapered in a slight tilt. He did not understand what it was about her that had him reacting in this odd way of wanting to touch her every time he came to this room. She was human, tiny, and nothing like the tall, strong females of his race.
Perhaps it was the fact he’d finally found her, the one who would help his world, and give hope back to his people. Or, perhaps he could at long last keep his centuries-old promise to the one who’d set him on this path—the one person he’d given up everything for.
Sebris withdrew his hand and willed the chosen awake, needing to see she was well enough to travel.
A low moan escaped her lush mouth, her brow creasing. Her eyelids fluttered open, and she blinked those long dark lashes as if struggling to see clearly, revealing startling, crystal-blue eyes.
“Angel?” her sleep-roughened voice whispered.
Sebris had no idea what it was she saw. He was the farthest thing from those celestial beings his fickle creator had shaped them after. Eons of blood and death stained his soul. He’d done whatever he had to, to get what he wanted. But if she thought him so, who was he to dissuade her of the halo she’d given him? “How do you feel?”
“Like an elephant sat on me.”
She’d joke despite her rough condition? He would never understand humans.
“We’re leaving in a few minutes…” Then he added, “Will you come with me, Brenna of Earth?”
“Why?”
Why indeed. Because telling her he didn’t want his enemies getting ahold of her while he recharged his waning powers wouldn’t work. He, who never explained his actions to anyone, said, “My world is dying. We need you.”
“I don’t understand—” a whimper escaped her, pain etching deep furrows on her brow. Healing others wasn’t one of his strengths, but still… With his thumb, he eased the lines, absorbing her pain. She sighed in relief, and his own bone-eating agony leaked out, spiking in response to his breach. He ground back a curse. “I’ll explain it all later. Will you?”
“Okay, I’ll go with you.” Stunning him into silence, she lifted her hand and gently ran her fingertips over his stubbly jaw. “You’re…hurting.”
“I’m fine.” Frowning, he willed her back to sleep. Her eyes closed, her hand falling to the covers. The fragrance of wild roses, a lot like the ones clambering up the walls of their mansion, teased his senses.
The sound of Xever’s boot steps echoing down the corridor pulled Sebris back to what remained of his common sense. A human sensing his discomfort?
Impossible. Being in this infernally hot realm was scrambling his brains.
He dealt in war, in keeping his world safe, and now in this quest. Humans didn’t hold his interest. But he was responsible for this female.
Sebris dug deep into his psyche and pulled up his mental shields once more, locking the agony from not equating deep within him. Back in his ice-cold mode, he left the room.
***
“God…” Brenna moaned, a wave of pain bursting through her head. Dying would be so much better. It was the recovery part that plain sucked.
Did someone smash her skull open and mush her brains? It sure felt like it.
She gingerly rubbed her temples, trying to ease the pounding there, and forced her eyelids open. Her blurry sight cleared, disclosing a sea of golden-brown wooden walls in a spacious but cozy bedroom. Intricately latticed dark timber suspended the domed ceiling above. Blue-streaked yellow flames rose from deep orange-blue crystal-like shards in the stone hearth adjacent to her bed. She blinked in confusion.
A low keening echo drifted to her. Her gaze snapped to the domed-shaped windows on the other side, revealing a whiteout. She frowned. There should be cars honking, voices adrift, people cussing. Life. Not a muted whine of a snowstorm. This was all wrong.
“You’re awake!” An excited cry erupted like nails piercing her head. “I will get Kyrii!”
Brenna winced and rubbed her sore head, catching sight of a slender figure in a dark blue, ankle-length dress disappearing through the door at the far end, enormous wings attached to her back dragging behind her. Wings?
Her heartbeat picked up in a fast staccato. Had she finally died from an asthma attack? Was she in Heaven? But she hadn’t been sick in a decade. It should be warm in Heaven, the buildings all sparkly white, or so she thought. She pushed up to sit—
“Oww,” she gasped, falling back on the bed. Every part of her ached as if after using her head to break concrete, someone had used her body to scrape up the gravel.
The door opened. An incredibly tall man stepped inside. Shadows concealed him for a second in the entryway. Then he moved, walking toward her with a predatory gait. Black pants molded to muscular thighs and disappeared into well-worn, knee-high black boots. An untucked, dark t-shirt hugged his broad shoulders and chest.
As he strode past the window, even with pain clouding her mind, Brenna’s breath caught in sheer wonder. So gorgeous…like an angel.
In the slant of dull daylight, his gleaming shoulder-length hair appeared like polished sheets of nickel bronze. The strands fell from a widow’s peak to frame his striking, aristocratic face.
But when she met those eerie onyx eyes, with the detached way he studied her, unease stomped out her fascination.
Dangerous. The word whooped around inside her head. Everything about him held about as much warmth as his cold, obsidian stare. He stopped at the foot of her bed.
“How do you feel?”
His tone held a dark, exotic edge. It scraped over her battered skin in a way that made her blood feel like warm molasses, and she shuddered, then frowned, so sure she’d heard his voice before. Except, she’d never seen him in her life.
She licked her dry lips. “Where—where am I?”
It hurt to speak. Ugh, she’d probably swallowed gravel, too.
“Dregarus.”
The name rang no bells. “Who are you?”
“I’m Sebris. You are in my home.”
With him looming there like the Grim Reaper, Brenna felt at a horrible disadvantage lying down. Heck, he could take off with her soul or something. She struggled to sit up, but her body didn’t agree. A sharp breath escaped her, pain ripping through her hips.
In a flash, he appeared at her side, and she reared back, except there was nowhere to go, trapped in bed as she was. Firm hands slipped to her back, helping her up. Though his touch had been gentle, neither her body nor her head cared for any movement. She cried out, eyes squeezed tight.
“Get Adara.” His low, commanding voice had footsteps hurrying out. When the agony eased and she could breathe again, she found him seated on the edge of the bed next to her, his palm on her temple.
He eased her pain? Her disquiet grew further, her fingers squeezing the white covers.
The man rose, crossed to the nightstand near the bed, and poured water into a glass. He handed it to her. Brenna gulped some, the cold liquid soothing her parched throat, but before she could swallow more, he took the glass and set it down.
“No—” She tried to grab it back.
He pushed it out of reach. “Too much, and you’ll get sick. I can’t have that.”
Fear morphed to annoyance. She glowered at him and found herself trapped by those impassive ebony eyes. He folded his heavily muscled arms over his wide chest, appearing more intimidating than ever. “Do you recall anything? Your name?”
“Brenna,” she croaked, clawing through the fog in her mind… A blinding white light…flowers raining down on her—
“Oww—” She clutched her head, prism of colors spearing holes in her skull at her foray into disjointed memories.
“Kyrii?” a soft voice with a musical lilt said.
“She’s hurting, aid her.”
It took Brenna a moment before she could breathe through the pain. She dropped her hands and gaped at the tall ethereal woman with waist-length fair hair gliding toward her. Even the dull gray gown she wore did little to detract from her luminous pale beauty. Deep jade eyes swiftly skimmed over Brenna.
“My name’s Adara. I’m going to touch you and see where you still hurt. Is that all right?” she asked in a gentle tone.
Brenna blinked. Cool hands rested on her forehead, and she shut her eyes, desperate for the pain to ease. But with the spikes doing a happy jig nailing her skull, it didn’t seem possible. Soon a gentle warmth flowed through her, easing and dulling the barbs inside her skull. “That feels good…”
Why did she hurt so much—why was it so hard to remember? “What happened to me? I recall a blinding light and then nothing.”
“Try not to worry overmuch,” Adara murmured in a soothing tone and lowered her hands. The mattress shifted as she rose. “It will come back to you in time.” Sounds of glass clinked. Then footsteps. “Here, drink. It will relieve your aches.”
Sighing, Brenna opened her eyes and accepted the glass and sipped the slightly sweet liquid. By the time she finished it, whatever was in the drink, tugged her mind to shut down. She leaned back against the pile of pillows.
“Rest. I will check on you later.” Adara took the glass, set it down, then crossed to the tall, intimidating man who stood near the window. His arms remained folded over his chest, and he watched her with a detached intensity that made the fine hairs on her nape rise. She didn’t have to fake closing her eyes to escape his stare as sleep hovered.
“She needs bed rest, Kyrii. No questions about the accident. No pressure for now,” she said, her low tone stern.
Accident? “W-what accident?” Brenna mumbled, her eyelids too heavy to force open.
“You fell.” He, however, appeared more than willing to accommodate her. An aggrieved exhale escaped the woman.
She fell? Questions piled in her mind, but she found no voice as her drowsiness grew. And, as if from some far-off place, Brenna heard the woman ask, “Are you sure she’s the one?”
“I tasted her blood. There is no doubt.” His flat tone resonated with absolute conviction. “You need to get her well quickly while I equate. Nothing will stand in the way of getting the magic back to us. Nor can we have the rest of Empyrea starting a fracas if they discover we have her.”
Empyrea.
There was something about the name she should remember.
“Soon, all will be as it should.” His cold words seeped into her fading mind, and she shifted restlessly on the bed.
Brenna forced her heavy eyelids open, wanting to ask what did he mean ‘all will be as it should?’ Instead, she met his chilling black stare and felt as if she’d fallen into an abyss of emptiness. She sensed nothing from him.
Fear tearing through her, she shut her eyelids tight, a whimper caught in her throat. What do you want from me?
August 29, 2019
Cover Reveal: Winter’s Awakening – Warlords of Empyrea #2
Many of you have been waiting for the next Warlord of Empyrea book for a while now, wanting to know what happened to Brenna?
Well, release is just around the corner, and all will be revealed.
I do hope this book is everything you waited for.
Here it is, the stunning cover for Sebris and Brenna’s book. Thanks to my awesome cover artist, Montana Jade!
Title: Winter’s Awakening
Series: Warlords of Empyrea #2
Genre: A Paranormal Romance
Only she can awaken an icy warlord’s immortal heart, but can she survive the aftermath?
Blurb:
Dark
warlord Sebris will sacrifice anything to save his angelic dominion of
Dregarus, even shed his own blood. Snatching the foretold mortal from her world
is nothing—as long as she can find the missing artifact their realm desperately
needs to survive. He expects a mere pawn, not a fragile human woman who
confuses and tempts him, stirring in him a desire that is as dangerous as it’s
deadly.
After
a freak accident lands florist Brenna Graham in a coma, she awakens to find
herself in another world and in the care of a cold, ruthless immortal. The
Darkrean leader both draws and terrifies her. Still, she’s furious over the
abduction she unwittingly agreed to. But the longer she’s with him, the more
she discovers an unexpected, tender side to the icy warlord. As barriers
shatter and rigid laws are broken, an unabiding passion consumes them.
Except, time is not on their side in the dying, war-ridden world. For a chance at an everlasting love, they must fight for survival. When unseen enemies target Brenna, their bond is brutally tested. Sebris vows to bring down dominions to save the woman who became his heart…
Preorder: AMAZON
Other pre-order links coming up soon.
.
August 14, 2019
New Release: Leaving Earth by Liza O’ Connor
A Warning from someone who knows…
“We all like to believe we are masters of our fate. However, usually it isn’t true. Somewhere, a person exists, sometimes completely unknown to you, whose slightest action impacts your life.”
Blurb
Billionaire David Ross has created a
sanctuary for an alien species that superficially resembles Earth’s black
panther. This race is superior in both strength and longevity to humans.
David’s plan is to seed a new world with the offspring of these aliens and
selected humans. Contrary to the covenants of the project, he sends a special
young woman named Jesse to the island against her will. Her arrival changes
more than he planned.
Excerpt
Jesse appreciated Mike voicing her
thoughts, but she also found it disconcerting. Was it possible he actually
could read her mind?
He smiled and kissed her on the
forehead. “Rest now, Jesse. It will be several hours before the drug wears off,
and I’ll warn you now, that it isn’t a pleasant experience, but your new family
will be here to help you through it.”
They lifted her from the stretcher and
placed her in a soft clean bed.
Somewhere in the room, a kitten cried.
Jesse thought it a very loud mewing for a kitten. She watched from her new bed
as Carmella went over to the crib and lifted up what appeared to be a large
mountain lion cub and offered it a bottle of red juice.
“This is our youngest, Tanga,” Carmella
explained.
Jesse watched the adorable cub curl her
paws around the bottle and suckle it while tiny growls of pleasure emanated
from its body. Jesse had never seen a cub in real life before. They were
precious! Was this the oddity that David wouldn’t tell her? The family raised
cubs and called them their children?
Mike took the cub from his mother’s
arms and carried it closer to Jesse. “Tanga is my daughter,” Mike said as he
sat down beside Jesse on the bed. “I know that sounds insane, but it is true.
Back in the 1800’s, an alien spaceship crashed on Earth with one survivor,
Mechal’s father. The ship landed in the heart of Africa. Mechal’s father
successfully mated three times in his life. The first son was Tiburon, the
second was a daughter now deceased, and the third was my half-brother, Mechal.
Until my mother met and fell in love with this alien, the birthing of a cub was
always lethal for the mother. Fortunately, my mother had latent telepathic
capabilities that enabled her to communicate with my brother while in her womb.
It’s a dominant skill and so I also carry the ability to communicate by
telepathy. If you were not so enchanted with my beautiful daughter, you would
have noticed by now that my lips aren’t moving.”
Jesse looked up in surprise at his
mouth. Even as he continued to speak, his lips did not move.
“You are a strong young woman, not
prone to irrational fears, I see. I was sure you were, or I would not have
brought my daughter so near. She is very sensitive to our emotions. A simple
thought of disapproval will cause her great distress. He turned the cub so that
she could observe Jesse.
“She likes you because you are so very
still. She is young and easily frightened by fast movements. Can you sense her?
Can you feel her happiness?”
Oddly enough, Jesse could feel a sense
of well-being and happiness.
“No, that’s just because Mechal is near
you. He has that effect on everyone. It is the mark of a leader.”
Jesse could sense the envy in his
voice.
“Tanga’s touch is much lighter. Close
your eyes and concentrate. I will stop talking so you can sense her.”
Jesse closed her eyes and listened.
“Don’t listen…feel.”
She sensed an emotion of contentment
and security, foreign to her own life and experiences. She focused on it and it
blossomed in her mind. The intensity of happiness overwhelmed her to the point
she feared she would lose her own identity.
“That cannot happen,” Mike assured her.
“No more than a child’s laughter can overwhelm you. Tanga’s feelings are no
more than another form of communication. You need only to think of your own
feelings and hers will fade back.
Jesse thought of her feelings of
confusion and uncertainty, and the overwhelming happiness disappeared.
Was she going mad? Perhaps a
side-effect of the drug?
“You are not going mad. In fact, you
are remarkably sane and open to the possibility of new realities. But I think
you’ve experienced enough new ideas for your first day.”
AMAZON
ALIENS
AMONG US
BOOK
2
Leaving Earth
About the Author
Liza lives in Denville, NJ with her dog
Jess. Having an adventurous nature, she learned to fly small Cessnas in NJ,
hang-glide in New Zealand, kayak in Pennsylvania, ski in New York, scuba dive
with great white sharks in Australia, dig up dinosaur bones in Montana, sky
dive in Indiana, and raft a class four river in Tasmania. She’s an avid
gardener, amateur photographer, and dabbler in watercolors and graphic arts.
Yet through her entire life, her first love has and always will be writing
novels. She loves to create interesting characters, set them loose, and scribe
what happens in a myriad of genres.
FOR MORE INFORMATION
ABOUT
LIZA O’CONNOR’S MANY BOOKS
Investigate these sites:
Liza’s Blog and Website Facebook Twitter
July 27, 2019
Latest Release by Liza O’Connor: The Unexpected Spy
Blurb
Having come so
close to Parliament falling into a foreign country’s hands, Amy wishes to help
keep her country safe by being the finest spy Chavier has ever taught.
Since no one
but Chavier, and those who know her well, perceive her to be anything but a
charming, but silly young girl, she will have easy access to those who are apt
to cause trouble, since they will think her harmless.
Amy is the
finest spy that has ever existed. Her ability to hide in plain sight is almost
magical. Her ability to heal is beyond what should be possible. Her hearing is
acute as is her ability to smell. Thus, she can throw a knife with accuracy in
the dark and hit her targets with precision. In addition, she now knows ten
languages: English, French, Scottish, Dutch, Russian, German, Portuguese,
Finnish, Spanish, and Swiss. Thus if, someone whispers in a different language
she not only has acute hearing to hear it, but it is very likely that she will
understand what they are saying.
EXCERPT
“Do
as you like. But I must say, I’m a bit disappointed to think you came to me
with such foolishness. I would have enjoyed this evening far more dancing with
my bride than discussing false accusations.”
“It
appears your bride prefers my son over you.”
Chavier
had not seen Amy leave the library, but there she was, clearly in Bishop’s
son’s arms. “Well, he’s young, handsome, and a fine dancer. What woman wouldn’t
wish to be in his arms?”
“Do
you not fear you might lose your young bride?”
“Lose
her, no! She’s having a pleasant time, I dare say. But rest assured, I will be
the one who takes her home,” Chavier stated proudly. He hoped she had achieved
her objectives before Bishop’s son showed up.
Once
the dance ended, he claimed her hand and walked her into the garden. She
chattered on about the ball and the nice young men as she continued to stuff
his pockets with documents. He wanted to ask her why she didn’t just read and
remember the items instead of stealing them, but she was so happy he couldn’t
chide her.
Amy
grinned. “Now, I’m going back in and will kiss the young man who showed me the
location of the documents. He’s very angry with his father, due to their
situation now. He was sent down from Cambridge, and he holds his father
responsible.”
“So,
you asked him for the documents?”
“No.
He just gave them to me to give to you. I had intended to refuse them, until I
discovered what they were.”
“What
are they?” Chavier asked.
“Encrypted
letters between Bishop and the man who almost destroyed England last year,
Count Valesky. It turns out the count was the one in charge of last year’s
fiasco, not Carlos. Worse yet, Catherine is not living with her husband
anymore. She is with Count Valesky. One of the letters I just gave you
discusses the possibility of using her in their next attempt to destroy
England.”
“What
is their plan?” Chavier demanded.
“They
believe she is your child, not her father’s. They are certain that you will not
fight them if they hold your daughter captive.”
“If
that is true, I will need you to stop me from strangling Ann. Let us return to
our carriage at once,” he ordered.
BUY
IT NOW!
The Unexpected Spy
Available at
Amazon
&
Other sites such as
Barns & Noble
Kobo
Apple
And more.
Check it out here!
https://books2read.com/u/mZNOYl
More About the
Author
Liza O’Connor’s
favorite books are Pride & Prejudice and Douglas Adams’ four book trilogy,
The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. Go figure…
Raised in the
southern mid-section of U.S., Liza escaped to the East Coast once out of
college. She’s worked as a journalist, a radio DJ, a security guard, a
stockbroker, a strategist, and a business solutions consultant to name a few of
her many occupations. Again…go figure.
She learned to fly
planes, jump out of planes, hang-glide, kayak and scuba dive, to name of few of
her ‘let’s kill Liza’ sports. However, her favorite activity was to hike with
her dog Jess among the shaved mountains of NJ. Jess is near 20 years old now,
so he’s not up to much anymore. So I just garden and write more books.
FOR MORE INFORMATION ABOUT
Investigate these sites:
Liza’s Blog and Website Facebook Twitter
I have over 50 books now.
I’ve stopped counting.
I’ve novels in several
genres:
Contemporary Romance,
Historical Romance,
A 9 book series (soon to be
10)
Humorous historical sleuth
series,
I also have several Sci-fi
series
And some paranormal series,
Plus, lots of one-offs that
I’ve written
Because the book demanded
To be written
May 12, 2019
New Release: Finding True Love By Liza O’Connor
Little Falls: Book 1
Release date: May 1, 2019
Blurb
Carrie
Greyson leaves New York and moves to Little Falls, Montana with a dream to turn
a broken-down ranch into a refuge for battered women. Trouble finds her on day
one as her car is washed into a ravine, soon to soar off a cliff into the river
below.
Just when
all her dreams seem ready to collapse, she discovers a whole town willing to
help her. And after some mis-steps, she even determines which lover is solid
and which are not.
EXCERPT
She eased herself to the
far-right side of the roof. Squatting, she held on with one hand gripping the
roof opening and the other holding the window rim. She kept her eye on the tree
branch, trying to determine exactly when she should jump. She decided her best
chance would be to jump early, before the car actually dipped down. That would
make her launch significantly stronger, but it meant that she would have to
leap forward to actually catch the branch.
She counted down the seconds
to her leap. “People are counting on me, Grams. I need your help here.”
Without warning, a blur of
white fell before her and pain exploded in her arms and chest. She felt herself
torn from the roof, smashed down upon the trunk and then dragged into the
water.
Well shit! Fury raged within
her, not so much for the ending of her life, but for what it meant to the women
who counted on her. The tightness across her chest worsened. She knew soon
she’d black out from either the pain or a lack of oxygen. She steeled herself
for death. She wondered if she really would meet Grams in the Hereafter. She wondered
what the Hereafter was like. She wondered if there really was a God. If there
was, and she got the chance, she intended to make his life as miserable as he’d
made hers.
&
More
****************
Meet the Author
Liza O’Connor
Hello! All my fabulous friends!
I am working really hard to get all my books out wide,
while continuing to churn out a book a month. How can I do this, you ask?
It’s because in my early years, I didn’t publish
anything. I just kept writing. I feared that publishing would break my focus on
writing. Thus, I had over a hundred and thirty books written and no one but me
to read them.
A dear friend, Rebecca Royce, convinced me to submit
one of my books to a publisher. Honestly, I found them too slow to act, so
after the second book with a publisher, I decided to publish my third book on
my own. Worst Week Ever turned out to be my Best Seller. And I’ve never looked
back from that fabulous decision.
However, recently, I decided I needed to go wide, so I
jumped on the D2D wagon and I’m getting both my back log and new books up as
well so everyone can enjoy them.
I presently have over 50 novels. The actual amount
keeps changing since I publish
a new book each month.
Yes, it is exhausting, but I love writing books.
I hope you’ll take a peek at your many options.
I write Contemporary, Historical, Sci-Fi, Paranormal,
Romance, Suspense and even modern cowboy stories.
I hope you will enjoy my books at whatever service you
prefer.
Click here For ALL Novels by Liza
There
are over 50 books. (I’ve stopped counting.)
Liza’s
Social
Networks
April 25, 2019
Latest Release by Liza O’ Connor: Lady Anne – Book 2: Redeemed
Lady Anne: Book Two -Redeemed-
Blurb
Being
forced to leave one’s country and shipped to America is a terrible beginning
for any marriage. In fact, Anne and Aaron are not legally married, since Anne
refused to sign the marriage certificate.
Certain Anne
will love her new life, Aaron pays off her servants, shuts down her home, and
takes her to America against her wishes. He quickly discovers that an angry,
defiant Anne is more than his heart can endure. If he could turn the ship
around, he would have done so. Instead, he assigns Jacko to deal with the
hell-cat.
When
they finally arrive in Charlotte, North Carolina, Aaron no longer wishes to
marry Anne. Still he cannot send her across the ocean in the icy winter waters.
It is far too dangerous. So, the angry she-cat remains ‘his wife’ as they make
the long journey home to his ranch in the Kentucky hills. Having no
alternative, Anne agrees to remain six months on his ranch, until it is safe to
cross the ocean again. Then, come summer, if she wishes, she can return to
England.
Unfortunately,
when they finally reach Aaron’s ranch, he discovers over half his horses have
been sold on the cheap, his ranch is in disrepair, and the man he had put in
charge is now declaring he is the owner of the property. His anger towards his
‘wife’ is no longer his main concern. He must reclaim his property, rehire his
men, and rebuild his ranch. With winter arriving, if he doesn’t turn matters
around quickly, they will all die.
Excerpt
An older
version of the young man came around the corner. “Bubba, Tommy, Josh, come on.
There’s a ship coming in. We might earn a few coins helping to move cargo.”
Aaron
spoke up at once, or he feared the man would run off with his boys before Aaron
could offer a better solution. “Mr. Dobbs, I’m Aaron Hart. I believe we might
be in a position to help one another. I’m headed to northern Kentucky and need
drivers for my supply wagons. I understand you wish to go to Kentucky as well
but are in need of a horse.”
Bob Sr.
waved his sons to sit, evidently deciding this offer was more important than
cargo moving. “How many wagons?”
“Two.”
“Well,
I’ve sons enough for that.” He eyed the horses with appreciation. “However, I
must tell you we aren’t familiar with the way as of yet. This’ll be our first
journey.”
Aaron
waved off that concern. “I am very familiar with the journey to my house. What
town are you headed to?”
“Little
Pines, do you know it?”
Aaron
smiled at their mutual good fortune. “Indeed, I do. It is only five miles from
my ranch.”
Bob Sr.
stroked his clean-shaven chin. “Well, sir, then I believe the good Lord has
heard and answered my prayers. When do you plan to leave?”
“I need
to buy additional supplies to fill the second wagon, which will take about an
hour, but then we should leave. I do not want Anne arriving at the inn alone.”
“Anne?”
“My…wife,”
Aaron said, finding the word almost too painful to state aloud.
If Bob
Dobbs noticed, he gave no evidence. He simply returned to admiring the horses.
“Those are mighty fine horses, sir. Have any been trained to the harness?”
“All but
Cleo. I’ll ride her. Whichever load is the heaviest should get Thunder, he’s
stronger than any horse you’ll find.
“I’d
prefer two horses for my wagon…If that is possible.”
“It is.
However, you’ll have to choose from the others. Thunder won’t tolerate being in
a double harness. He’s too competitive.”
Bob laughed
and reached out and stroked Thunder. “I understand that, big fellow.” He nodded
towards a matched pair. “These two chestnuts will do fine.”
About the Author
Liza O’Connor
Liza loves to write books. In
fact, she has over fifty novels now and she still continues to publish a book a
month. She writes in a multitude of genres: Romance, Comedy, Historical,
Paranormal, Suspense, Sci-Fi, & Western. She even has one Young Adult
novel.
Thus,
her books have a wide range of heat from mild to adult language and situations,
that are determined by what seems realistic for each of her many stories.
FOR MORE INFORMATION ABOUT
LIZA O’CONNOR
Liza’s Blog and Website Facebook Twitter
March 14, 2019
Liza O’ Connor’s latest release: Lady Anne Book1: Ruined
Lady Anne: Book One – Ruined-
Blurb
Upon the death of her father, her Guardian, “The Honorable Robert Conrad” married her at sixteen to a vicious beast named Gerard Candor, the Marquis de Coeur. Her ‘husband’ would bring friends with him when he would arrive to provide her the small pittance she was expected to live on.
If she allowed them to use her body, then she
would receive her money. If she fought them, she would be brutally beaten and
receive no money.
Recognizing her need for help, her friend, Tom,
helped her establish a very fine private club at her estate. With the money she
received from the club games, she begins to build a fine stable of horses for
the gentlemen to ride.
When the Marquis de Coeur dies, Anne celebrates
with her gentleman. While she will have less money, she is certain her life
will be better now.
She couldn’t be more wrong…
EXCERPT
“I have
never seen nor spoken to her. Robert convinced me the travel was too wearisome,
so I sent my steward to marry her in proxy. When Girard returned, he said the
girl balked at signing the wedding certificate until he agreed, in my name, a
promise she could remain in England on her family estate and receive a monthly
stipend of four thousand pounds.”
“Four
thousand?”
“Given
the size of her fortune, it was not unreasonable. I felt uncomfortable at the
time with this false marriage, with using this girl just to get myself out of
debt. I tried to convince myself she would be happier on her estate and forcing
her to come to France would just compound the cruelty of this marriage. I thought
such generosity might assuage my guilt.” The Marquis sighed and shook his head.
“What a generous man—to give her back a pittance of what I had just taken
away.”
“Another
man would have done less,” Aaron offered.
“Despite
my feelings of guilt, the money was most welcomed by all my creditors. It also
enabled me to send you enough to make your business a success. If that were the
end of this story, I would not feel good about what I had done, but I doubt it
would cast me into hell.”
Aaron
frowned. “Did something happen to the girl?”
The
Marquis closed his eyes. “I convinced myself she could still have some sort of
life, and I would not fault her if she took a lover along the way. After all, I
was not a real husband and could offer her no physical comfort.”
“Did
you tell her this?”
“Not
directly. I was too ashamed to even write the poor girl a letter. Instead, I
sent the message with my steward when he hand-delivered her monthly stipend.”
“And
how did she respond to this message?”
“With
gusto. When Robert first wrote me about the girl, he spoke honestly about her
faults. She was, to his mind, overly educated, opinionated, and far too full of
energy. He admitted he looked forward to shifting the responsibility of her
guardianship to my capable hands.”
“You are
digressing, Father. What do you mean she reacted with gusto?”
“I had
told her that taking a lover wouldn’t offend me, so she did just that. However,
not discreetly as one would wish, and not with singularity as I had naturally
assumed.”
“What
are you saying?”
“I
destroyed the poor girl’s hope of any honorable life of happiness. I am saying
I have taken a bright young heiress and made her the lowest of whores.”
Amazon
About the Author
Liza O’Connor
Liza loves to write books. In
fact, she has over fifty novels now and she still continues to publish a book a
month. She writes in a multitude of genres: Romance, Comedy, Historical,
Paranormal, Suspense, Sci-Fi, & Western. She even has one Young Adult
novel.
Thus,
her books have a wide range of heat from mild to adult language and situations,
that are determined by what seems realistic for each of her many stories.
FOR
MORE INFORMATION ABOUT
LIZA
O’CONNOR
Liza’s Blog and Website Facebook Twitter
February 21, 2019
New Release by Liza O’ Connor ~ Hell within Walking Distance
Hell Within Walking Distance
By Liza O’Connor
Release date: Feb 1st, 2019
A Love Story
With Paranormal Events
This story takes place in 1980, when Hell’s Kitchen remained a dangerous place. As a young woman working in Manhattan, I was shocked how one block could make such a huge difference in your likelihood to survive. I traveled to NYC by train, so I had no option but to walk once I arrived at Penn Station. What I quickly learned was to stay far away from Hell’s Kitchen, for even in the early mornings it was NOT SAFE.
Blurb
Cara
faints on a subway and dreams that she wakes in the arms of an adoring husband.
This charming, caring man soon claims her heart.
When she
reawakens to her miserable life, the memory of her dream life gives her the
courage to escape her tormentor. Newly discovered friends help her disappear by
placing her in the household of a wealthy philanthropist who is determined to
pull his beloved wife out of her coma.
When Cara realizes the philanthropist is her dream husband, she concludes she is to blame for his wife’s coma. Cara is determined to do whatever it takes to return his wife’s soul to her body, even if it kills her.
Excerpt
He
evidently sensed her growing ill will over their journey into hell. “I don’t
know why you’re in a mood. I’m the one who was unable to buy the coin I wanted.
However, if you have gotten us lost, I will
be the one who loses my temper.”
God, she hated him! Maybe she should have taken the
little Spanish guy up on his offer. Slavery and prostitution couldn’t be much
worse than her current situation. Yes, she lived in a beautiful high rise, but
other than geography, she didn’t see how her life was much better. She was a
virtual slave, waiting for Damon to decide what she could or couldn’t do. The
only ‘friends’ he permitted were the wives of his friends, and she could never get beyond their superficial
surface to find a personality to befriend. He monitored her food intake and her
exercising regime to ensure she maintained a pleasing body. He also selected
her reading material.
On
occasion, he would send her to a class to ‘improve’ her. The results always
disappointed him, and she would endure his lectures on her lack of ambition,
talent, and fortitude for many weeks after. However, her most unforgivable sin
was her birth in Hell’s Kitchen. He forbade her to tell a soul of her shameful
heritage. He provided her a more acceptable history, which she dutifully told
to any of the shallow people who pried into her life looking for weapons to use
against him.
“Forget
your past,” he’d lectured her throughout their fifteen years of co-habitation.
However, today, when he wanted a damn coin from a merchant in Hell’s Kitchen,
she was suddenly expected not only to remember her past but become a ghetto
tour guide.
She
sighed in relief as the subway hole came into view. She could tell by the
rumbling of the sidewalk, the train was pulling in.
“Shit,
we are going to miss the train.” He took off running, leaving her behind.
She
tried to keep up, desperately tried. He never allowed her to carry money or
have her own subway card, and she knew from prior experience, if it came
between Damon catching the train or leaving her behind, he’d leave her in a
second. He had done it before, but normally it was in Midtown where she could
ask some kind looking gentleman for the cost of a token. There were no kind men
on these streets.
***
About the Author
Liza
O’Connor has been writing books for most of her life. Only for the first ten
years she didn’t show them to anyone. Then she joined a group called the
Rom-critters and her she learned how to make her stories better.
Liza
has published over 50+ books
Liza
writes fiction, but all her books have a bit of her life in them. As strange as
it sounds, Hell Within Walking Distance has much of her life within the story.
Liza is
trying to publish a book a month, so more of her books can be published and
read. Most of these books were written in her most creative years. But she is
still writing new books as well. It just takes longer to write a new book,
rather than to improve an already written book from her backlog.
She
also writes in many genres, including: Historical and Contemporary Romance,
Sci-Fi, Paranormal, Modern Western, Fantasy, Ghost stories, Humor, and more.
For a
full listing, check out the back pages of one of her current year’s books.
Social Networks
FOR
MORE INFORMATION ABOUT
I’ve
over 50 books now, in many genre’s
Investigate
these sites:
