Serena Akeroyd's Blog: All Things Serena! , page 275
February 2, 2014
COVER REVEAL: Evanescent by Sara V Zook & Wendy S Chartier
Book Title: Evanescent (The Sempiternal Series, #1) Author: Sara V. Zook & Wendy S. Charier Genre: Paranormal/Fantasy Release Date: February 23, 2014 Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions
A moment is all it takes. Even the strength of a devoted warrior angel is no match to the pull of love … or is it lust? Sarenah isn’t sure. She needs to see him again. The brief intensity between them was too powerful. It eats away at her mind, but why? The elements of the world seem to be telling her something isn’t right. There’s a secret no one wants Sarenah to know. Why can’t she remember things such as becoming an angel? What happened to her past? The protection of the light is about to cease, but her heart and mind repeat one word incessantly, one she cannot ignore … Draco. 
Sparks danced up into the night air as another section of the house burst into flames. Sirens blared in the distance. I sat with my head in my palm at the top of a tree looking down.
The wind picked up and the fire spread. Screams came from inside the house.
I tapped the side of my face as more sparks shot upward past my head. So beautiful were these little beams of light amongst such tragedy that was occurring before my very eyes. I wanted to reach out and touch the sparks, let them linger on my fingertips.
A tanker pulled into the driveway as a coughing female exited the home. An ambulance came next, its flashing lights spotlighting the woods next to the house. Paramedics jumped out of the vehicle and hurried toward the female.
The very way his body moved when he walked had made my chest tighten. I looked up and our eyes met. For an instance, he stopped moving, his stare burning into the very pit of my being. One of my wings almost flopped down because this creature had taken me by surprise, but I remained in control of myself.
I had run into creatures of the dark before. We merely ignored one another’s presence and kept going about what it was we were supposed to do. This time had been different. This creature’s magnetic force drew me in.
He was unlike any demonic form I had even known to exist. He was tall, muscular with long, dark hair … almost man-like. His eyes were mesmerizing. His sly smile drew me in even more.
A loud explosion echoed into the darkness followed by an enormous cloud of gray smoke. The female cried out as firemen kicked down the side door of the house and entered.
More firemen clamped their hands down upon a huge hose as the water was turned on and squirted upward and then down trying to quiet the flames. The roof of the house crackled from the intensity of the fire.
A male child was tossed down from one of the upstairs windows and into the arms of a fireman standing below. His mother rushed over to him and swooped him up in her arms as the paramedics pried the coughing child from the grips of the hysterical mother and took him to their vehicle to examine him.
He walked over to me, unusually close, the heat from his skin leaping onto mine. He held up his open palm. As if entranced, I placed my hand upon his and our fingers laced together. Suddenly the darkness of his eyes were illuminated with swirls of hypnotic colors circling each other in the very middle where his pupils should be.
I knew I shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be touching this sinful creature before me, but I couldn’t stop. His touch was hot with a passion I had never known before, yet so familiar. I was caught in a trap that I never wanted to get out of.
His other hand dug into the back of my hair and jerked my head back, his breath hot on my neck, his eyes peering into mine.
“How many more, ma’am?” a fireman shouted out above the sirens.
The female just stood there in front of the smoldering shelter before her, both hands covering her face, ashen filled tears falling from the edge of her jaw.
“Ma’am!” the fireman hollered out. “Who else are you missing?”
The wind changed directions. I looked up to see another angel passing by carrying the breeze along with her. She raised her hand ever so slightly to wave. I nodded at her.
The fireman covered his nostrils with the inside of his arm as the wind carried the sultry smoke toward him.
The female seemed unaffected by the smoke. She just kept staring at that front door, her apprehension more of a focus now as she waited. “Two,” she finally replied.
“Did she say two?” another guy asked.
“Two?” he asked her again to confirm.
Never looking her way, she nodded. “My husband, he went back in for our oldest son.”
“Who are you?” I whispered, my chest heaving up and down from his firm grasp on my hair. My anger flared. I should kill him for putting his hands on me like that, but it felt so good.
He narrowed his eyes at me for a moment before answering, “Draco.”
Draco.
He released me as I stood up straight facing him. I knew who this strange creature was. I had heard about him on my travels. He was a solider of the dark, his strength witnesses marveled at. Most of the soldiers of the dark were cowards who slithered here and there with little, if any, common sense about their purpose or duty at hand. It was said that this Draco’s loyalty surpassed all others. But there was one other tidbit I had heard that was even more unusual. Those who worked with him, who were on the same side, seemed to like him. It was a concept unheard of for the dark side. Everyone was your enemy and everyone hated each other.
“And you are?” he asked.
If I said my name, he’d know who I was as well, and he’d run away. My intrigue was far too deep to have him disappear just yet.
“It doesn’t matter, does it?” I said.
He smirked, a dimple forming in the side of his cheek as he did so.
What the heck was wrong with me? I wanted to run my fingers over his lips. I should’ve reigned in those thoughts faster! I had urged myself to try to focus on what was happening around me, not to look at him.
Part of the roof began to sink until finally caving in with a horrific, crushing noise as it broke bits and pieces of the house that had stood underneath. This caused another flame to appear in a new section, the orange and blue colors lapping up all the oxygen around them.
The female was still standing in front of the door. I looked at my fingernail. A male child cried out from the door of the ambulance, the noise terrifying the poor thing.
“Get Jeff out of there!” a fireman shouted as he fumbled to remove his walkie-talkie from his belt. He pushed a button down on the side of the small device. “Jeff, can you hear me? Jeff, are you okay? Jeff, get out! Get out of there now!”
Another siren echoed in the distance attached to another tanker. I frowned and looked up at the stars dotting the skyline. I felt my mind drifting to him again.
He took a step closer to me again. I backed up. Amusement danced in those eyes of his. He reached out again, I moved back another step.
“Surely, you’re not afraid of me?”
Forbidden was more like the term that came to mind. We weren’t to interact with creatures of the dark, and likewise, they with us.
I knew I should reveal to him my name, but I didn’t want to. I wasn’t thinking clearly. My head seemed to be filled with fog. I told myself to pull it together. I was a warrior angel, not some addle minded girl.
I wondered why he didn’t at least take me as a creature of the light. Couldn’t he sense the light? Perhaps it was my enormous wings the color of coal tucked in securely to my back. They always gave me the appearance of being a darker shade than the other angels. I could only make the assumption that this Draco took me as one of his own.
His hands grabbed onto my waist and pulled me forward into his chest.
“Draco … no,” I whispered, but in my head I was saying YES.
“Say it again,” he pleaded, his lips gliding across the top of my forehead as he spoke.
The energy I felt within me being next to him was unlike anything I had ever experienced before. It engulfed every inch of me.
“Say what?” I asked, completely aware of how close our faces were.
He chuckled, the noise radiating into his chest that I now realized I had both of my hands pressed against.
“My name.”
I looked up at his face, his square jaw, and his stormy eyes. My lips parted and with a smirk I said, “No.”
A growling noise escaped from his throat. He narrowed his eyes, his hands around my waist pressing me tighter into his body.
“You dare defy me?” he whispered.
I stared back with my left eyebrow arched, not allowing my eyes to turn away from him so he knew his intimidation couldn’t make me cower.
“You’re not afraid?” He inspected every inch of my face as if memorizing each feature.
My body tingled from the overwhelming emotions. I had never felt this strange before. There was an ache in the pit of my stomach and a comfort in staring in this dark creature’s eyes as if he had put me under some sort of spell.
I reached up and let my fingertip trace the edge of his bottom lip. I grinned.
The female gasped as she saw the front door broken apart from the inside. Smoke poured out from the enflamed house, its beams and foundation creaking on the brink of crumpling completely down.
Out came the fireman, a small child in his arms. She rushed to him. The firefighter handed him over and then fell to one knee on the ground.
The medics came to attend to the male child, his face covered in soot, his dark eyes huge at the scene before him.
“It’s okay, ma’am!” the medic yelled out. “We got him! He needs oxygen!”
The medic had to practically pull the child out of his mother’s arms. As he did, she drew her fingers into her mouth, her moist eyes returning to the fireman who still was kneeling down.
“Jeff, you okay?” another fireman asked him. He tried to help him up by putting his arm underneath him, but the man they called Jeff swatted him away.
“No, I got to go back in.”
“What? You can’t! That whole thing is ready to fall.”
Jeff stood up then and put his mask back on. “He was right behind me. He’s got to be right there.” His eyes met the female’s as he headed back to the front door.
Draco withdrew from my touch for a moment, his eyes turning from anger to astonishment.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
The corners of my mouth lifted upward in a small smile. “You feel it, too, don’t you?”
I could feel his heart hammering away in his chest, a vein protruding from his neck where a scar lay.
“I …” he mumbled, searching my eyes for an explanation for this intensity.
“You can’t let go of me, can you?” I asked, my hand running through the back of his black hair.
For a few moments more he studied me, but this time he didn’t pull away from my touch. He leaned in and pressed his lips against mine. As if I didn’t think the emotions could grow any stronger. My head was spinning in a thousand different directions. This was wrong but felt so right. He kissed me gently, and then I kissed back harder as if trying to melt into him but impossible to get any closer than we already were. My entire body felt alive, every nerve ending inflamed, the heat coursing through my veins. I felt so consumed by Draco. I couldn’t breathe, and I loved every second of it.
A stinging pain etched its way to a spot near where my wing attached to my back. I pulled back from Draco quickly, my hand releasing hold on him and trying to find the newly formed wound.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, his eyes on me, his arms still extended as I backed further away, the pain feeling as if one part of my skin was on fire.
It started to ease a little, but I couldn’t see what had happened to me. I felt exhilarated, exhausted and guilty all at the same time.
“Are you okay?”
Was he concerned for me? I watched him take a few steps toward me, his large, strong body moving in that rhythmic and enticing way.
“I … think so. Something’s hurting on my back,” I quickly explained.
His eyebrows lowered. He was concerned. A creature of the dark didn’t care about anything or anyone but themselves. He was a walking contradiction.
“Let me see,” he said, trying to look behind me.
Afraid he’d see my wings, I turned so I was facing him again. “I’m fine,” I snapped.
His eyes grew large, something stewing within them again as if trying to read my thoughts.
“Who are you?” he asked, the distance between us minimal, his hands up as if ready to dive back into what we had just been doing in an instant, but he was being careful. He didn’t want me to run away which I felt on the verge of.
“I can’t tell you,” I said, my voice crackling under the desire to leap back into his arms, but the burning still lingering on my back.
“Okay.” He lowered his hands. “What are you?”
I felt a tremendous pull on my heart. I took a step closer to Draco. His hand automatically weaved its way into mine.
“Whatever you are,” he continued. “You’re beautiful, and I’m drawn to you in a way I can’t even explain.”
I looked from his eyes to his lips, feeling the exact same way.
He pulled me close again, his lips gliding across mine.
I jumped back, the same unknown burning sensation in my back again.
He looked confused.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “Something’s wrong.”
“What could possibly be wrong?” he asked, his face one of utter rejection.
My heart was slamming against my ribs. The burning subsided slightly again the farther away I was from him. I took a few more steps backward. It felt even better. I wished I could see behind me to know what was going on, where this pain had erupted from.
“I have to go,” I told him.
He raised his arm up as if trying to hang on. “Please, no. Don’t leave yet. I don’t even know who you are …”
“It doesn’t matter,” I called out putting more distance between us so that I couldn’t see the twisted emotions in his eyes any longer. “This can’t happen again, won’t happen again.”
With that, I turned and ran until completely out of Draco’s sight, at which time I spread my wings and launched into the sky.
Sara’s: Sara V. Zook is a paranormal/fantasy writer. She is the author of the Strange in Skin Trilogy and Clipped. She resides in Pennsylvania with her 3 small children and husband.
Wendy’s: After being in the music and literary field for 12 years as an agent, in 2013 Wendy S. Chartier took her passion for books and formed her own publishing company, Planettopia Publishing, LLC. Wendy resides in the Texas hill country with her husband, David, and their furkids, Azriel and Sophie. 
February 1, 2014
Simone Barranquet is in a rut. In fact, her life is one huge...
Simone Barranquet is in a rut. In fact, her life is one huge rut. Until she falls into Zane Matthews’ (The Zane Matthews!) arms and unwittingly finds herself.
But even then, life can’t hand Mona a candy bar. There’s always something bittersweet to spoil her happiness and in this instance, it’s Zane’s husband.
Yeah. Husband!
Can Mona wade through the fallout to find her own Happy Ever After? Or is she destined to lead a Zane-free and love-free life?
If she can grab the bull by the balls, then maybe, just maybe she can.
But does she have enough cojones of her own to do it?
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For all you ladies, you can't say "happiness" without "penis"...
Think about it…
Hahaaaa :D So don’t be a feminist in the full throes of hap-penis ;)
"Felt what? Anger? Annoyance? Yeah, I sure as hell did!”
“Don’t deny it. I’m not slow, Jake. ..."
“Don’t deny it. I’m not slow, Jake. When I held your hand, you felt it too.” I step forward, closer to the bed and he seems to freeze all the more. The physical rejection has me stopping in my tracks, but I choose to ignore it in favor of moving nearer him. “What do you think it means?”
“I think it means you’re crazy.””
-
Jake Harris and Mona Barranquet
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BOOK BLITZ: A GOOD MAN'S LIFE: BARBARA CUTRERA
Book Title: A Good Man’s Life (The Real World Series) Author: Barbara Cutrera Genre: Fiction Release Date: February 1, 2014 Hosted by: Book Enthusiast Promotions
Daniel Nash struggles to reconcile his feelings of betrayal with his desire to understand his life. His hopes of uncovering the secrets revealed in his father’s journals are quickly dashed, and he works with a private investigator to discover the truth. Worry about his wife, Sarah, combines with his efforts to cope with his childhood trauma, an unexpected death, and the recent revelations. His obsession with the past threatens to destroy his stable life. Meanwhile, Sarah and her father, Tristan, continue to combat the lingering discord that developed between them years before but refuse to take their main focus from Daniel. As he reviews his biological father’s efforts to be a good man, Daniel searches for a way to comprehend shocking disclosures. He questions his own goodness as he fights not to emotionally withdraw from those around him, especially the two people he knows will always love him, Sarah and Tristan. 
Barbara Cutrera has been a writer since childhood but didn’t begin writing novels until 1999. Her first novel to be completed was Over, Under, Across & Through, which is the initial book in her Real World fiction series. Not satisfied to be limited by writing in only one genre, she next penned a mystery called In a Manner of Speaking. Cutrera took a dare from friends who suggested she write a romance and wrote The Healer’s Gift, a fantasy romance. Her fourth book to be released was True: 3 Short Stories. A Good Man’s Life, Book 2 in The Real World Series, has a release date of February 1, 2014. Novels in queue for publication include Mercy, Book 3 in The Real World Series, A Lovely Dream, a romantic thriller, A Lovely Reality, the sequel, Prim and Proper, a contemporary romance with a touch of mystery, and Lucky, a thriller set in the not-so-distant future in post-plague Earth. Cutrera has also completed another work of fiction entitled Compromising Positions and a new contemporary romance entitled Sight Unseen. She has begun work on a sequel to The Healer’s Gift, which she has decided to call Jordan’s Way. Cutrera, a member of the Romance Writers of America, the Florida Writers’ Association, and the Tampa Area Romance Authors was born and raised in Louisiana and moved to Florida with her family in 2004. She works with the visually-impaired and is visually-impaired herself. She firmly believes that our minds are only limited by the restrictions we place upon them. Her literary credo? “Transcending reality by exploring it one story at a time….” “Grandma Lillian and I were talking about swimming, ‘cause Amanda goes to a pool in her own backyard. Amanda says her daddy doesn’t wear a shirt in the water. I asked Grandma how come you never take your shirt off, and she said that you had another daddy before Grandpa Max and that he hurt you a lot. Will he come and hurt me, too?”
Lowering himself onto the edge of the bed, Daniel said soothingly, “Never, Kris. He wasn’t my real daddy, and I haven’t talked to him in over twenty years.”
“Why did he hurt you?”
"Because he was a very bad man.”
“You would never hurt me, would you?”
Daniel swallowed the lump in his throat that threatened to choke him. He was trying rather unsuccessfully to swallow the anger that was about to render him speechless. “Never, ever.”
“Is it really terrible on your tummy? Is that why you don’t want people to see?” Kris persisted. “Does it still have pain?”
“If I don’t exercise, then my body hurts. I have scars, like when you cut your lip and it made a scar. Understand?”
“Can I see your scars?”
“Maybe when you’re older.”
"Did you cry when you got hurt?”
“Yes, I did.”
Kris pulled the covers up around his neck and asked, “Will you and Mommy stay with me until I go to sleep?”
“Sure.”
“Are the windows and the doors locked?”
“Yes,” Daniel said firmly. “You’re perfectly safe.”
The combination of the decongestant and the Tylenol took affect within minutes. The moment Daniel was certain Kris was sleeping, he leapt from the bed and stalked towards the front of the house. Sarah darted out after him, moving quickly but quietly in an attempt to keep up with her husband. “Daniel, wait!”
“I’ll be at Lillian’s.”
He hadn’t been this enraged about anything since he’d been a child. He drove too quickly and too recklessly all the way to the house. Screeching to a halt in the driveway, Daniel parked and wrenched the key from the ignition. Jumping out, he slammed the car door behind him and stormed to the back door. In his anger, it took him three tries to insert the key into the keyhole. Finally, he unlocked the door and charged into the kitchen, just as Lillian flicked on the lights.
“Daniel! What on earth?”
“Why did you do it?” he cried, as tears of frustration and rage welled up in his eyes. “You had no right to tell Kris about my scars!”
Lillian asked calmly, “What was I supposed to do? Lie? I thought you were upset that we lied to you before.”
“He’s five years old! He’s too young to even comprehend what happened and why!”
“You tell me what I could have said,” she retorted belligerently.
Daniel was dumbfounded. This was not his mother talking. This was insanity.
“You could have told him I get sunburned easily on my shoulders,” he replied evenly. “You could have told him everybody has a different way of doing things.”
“That wouldn’t be the truth.”
“Goddamn motherfucking son of a bitch! Do you remember what the truth is, Lillian?” His fingers tore at the buttons of his shirt. “Do you?”
“Daniel! Don’t you use language like that! Don’t you take the Lord’s name in vain!”
Flinging his shirtfront wide, Daniel yelled, “Do you remember this, Mom? You think Kris needs to know about this kind of horror and fear at his age? Damn you for taking his sense of security away!”
He ran from the house, his shirt unbuttoned, his feet thudding on the concrete steps. When he got to the Mazda, he roughly twisted the key in the ignition then sped back down the long drive that extended to Highland Road.
A half a mile away, he pulled into the empty parking lot of the Victorian Doll Mansion and shut off the engine. Then, he pounded the steering wheel until the side of his hand throbbed. Raw and shaken, Daniel drove home.
January 31, 2014
“Aren’t you going to share?” he complains.I shake my head and...
“Aren’t you going to share?” he complains.
I shake my head and with a garbled laugh, mutter. “No way.”
“That good, huh?”
“Yeah.”
His head turns to the side and his lips brush my jaw. He busses me and whispers, “Go on. Give me just a little bit of donut.”
“I’m not a good sharer,” I retort, tongue-in-cheek.
The sound of a snort from the doorway has both of us looking up and both of us sucking in a breath, the harsh whistle almost in unison at the sight of Zane without any clothes on.
Butt naked.
His body is like a statue, but it’s like no other statue that you’ve ever seen because this isn’t marble, it’s warm gleaming flesh. Rippling with muscles, ink, scars —life. Vitality.
He has one arm raised against the doorjamb and somehow, the position has every single muscle appearing delineated. The tattoo around his bicep, a snake coiled and ready to pounce, flexes and the serpent appears to jostle with the movement.
His cock is impressively hard. Unabashed, unashamed, he wanders in as the pair of us stare and reaches over, grabs the box and like I did, peruses the contents.
As he decides upon which donut to feast, he murmurs, “Mona, honey, we wouldn’t be here if you weren’t willing to share.”
“Yeah, he’s right,” Jake retorts, pressing another kiss to my cheek.
With our bodies so close, I can feel his impressive erection nudging against my lower back. And he isn’t the only one affected. Beneath the lightweight tee I slept in, my nipples are hard as bullets and beneath my panties, the gusset is getting wet…
The Simone of old no longer exists. She’s transmogrified into a woman with whom she can’t reconcile but who she must eventually come to accept. This new Mona is stronger, sexier and with an innate power that she’s only just coming to understand.
For Zane, she’s put her very soul on the line. She’s dragged herself to the outer limits of her principles and has entered uncharted territory. All for the man who helped form this new creature that calls herself Simone Barranquet.
But was it worth it? Is he worthy of her sacrifice?
And what of Jake? Is he manipulating her or does he really share the same aspirations?
When two enemies unite and become allies, the man at the center of the battle is key.
But will Zane concur? Is he strong enough to accept them both, to have what he’s never known he’s always wanted?
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The irony of this is that most people don’t care ENOUGH! We need...
The irony of this is that most people don’t care ENOUGH! We need people who give a shit; there are far too few of them!
"I’m sick of pretenses, sick of having to hide who and what I really am. If father wants to see me,..."
For a man of few words, that speech was a doozy. Tears bite at the corners of my eyes, longing to fall but I hold them back and whisper, “Thank you for saying that.””
-
Mona Barranquet and Zane Matthews
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Phwoar, they had me at the hot, goeey sundae. Then I saw the...
Phwoar, they had me at the hot, goeey sundae. Then I saw the molten peanut butter cookies. *Drools*
Happy National Peanut Butter Day! 27 Truly Magnificent Peanut Butter Desserts - http://bzfd.it/1fjg7ih
RELEASE DAY CELEBRATIONS: SAMADHI by MELISSA LUMMIS!
Samadhi – Book Three in the Love and Light Series is available NOW
BUY IT AT:Amazon
Smashwords
Wolf and Loti are learning the hard way that karma will not be denied. In their quest for the truth, they’ve been forced into a blood bond with a powerful witch who isn’t so sure she wants to be tied down. But there’s one thing they can agree on: it’s time to eliminate the ancient vampire who set off this deadly chain of events—Modore.
Using any means necessary—torture, murder, and even death magic—Modore lures the triumvirate into the show down of their lives. And the consequences will far exceed even Modore’s imagination.
In this final installment of the Love and Light Series, the boundaries of love, lust, and even life itself will be tested and the universe as they know it will never be the same.
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About the Author
Melissa Lummis considers herself a truth seeker, a peaceful warrior, a paranormal and fantasy writer, an avid reader, a thru-hiker GAàME ’98, a Penn Stater, a wife, a mother, and a free thinker. She believes the universe conspires to help an adventurer. And if we live our lives as if it is a daring adventure (and it is!), then everything we need will find its way to us.
Her books have been described as new age suspense in a fantasy setting, but they are also straight up, steamy Paranormal Romance. The Love and Light Series is currently available at most ebook retailers and soon to come is the Little Flame Series, a spin off focusing on the character Fiamette from the Love and Light world.
Melissa lives in rural Virginia with her husband, two children, an Alaskan Malamute, and a myriad of forest creatures. The nature of her mind dictates that she write to stay sane. Otherwise, her fertile imagination takes off on tangents of its own accord, creating scenarios and worlds that confuse the space-time continuum.
Namaste, dear friends.
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