Margo Bond Collins's Blog, page 93
September 26, 2014
Chasing the Dollar by Ellie Ashe
Ellie
Ashe
Romantic Mystery @75k
Miranda Vaughn has spent the last year and a half fighting for her freedom. Arrested for a fraud scheme involving her supervisors, she’s lost her job at a prestigious investment firm, her fiancé, and her reputation. She walks out of the courtroom a free woman, only to find that life has a few more curve balls to throw her way. The jury may have found her not guilty, but Miranda is broke, in debt to her beloved aunt, and can’t find a job because of the cloud of suspicion still swirling around her.
She can’t move forward with her life until she finds out who set her up. Buried in the evidence against her, Miranda finds a larger scheme, one involving far more money than the $37 million her boss fleeced from unsuspecting investors.
Determined to uncover the truth, Miranda begins her own investigation—leading her to Macau and Belize, and into the arms of one sexy FBI agent, who has his own agenda. When the danger heats up, Miranda finds herself in a race against time to find the person behind it all. Before he finds her…
Buy Links:
Kobo Nook iBook Smashwords Amazon
Excerpt: (Chapter 1)
“Not guilty.”
The two words sliced through the thick atmosphere in the courtroom, and my heart leapt. The boa constrictor of stress that had been wound around my body for the last year and a half eased a tiny bit. Next to me, my attorney, Robert Fogg, tensed. We weren’t remotely done, his body language warned.
“As to Count Two, wire fraud, the jury finds the defendant—”
A pause. Why was the clerk pausing?
“Not guilty.”
The breath escaped my lungs, but Rob put a cautious hand on my arm warning me not to get too excited yet. He’d spent much of the last fourteen months explaining the odds, explaining the process that I’d face if I insisted on going to trial, comparing the risk I’d face with the known quantity of the plea offer—a mere four years in prison if I agreed to a plea deal and admitted to defrauding clients of the investment bank where I’d been an analyst, compared to ten years or more I risked if I was convicted at trial. And I’d almost certainly be convicted, Rob had assured me. Even if the witnesses against me were convicted felons, liars, conmen who would say anything to get a break on their own prison sentences. The documents were undeniable, incontrovertible evidence of my guilt.
“As to Count Three, wire fraud, the jury finds the defendant—”
Damn her, why the dramatic pause?
“Not guilty,” she finished.
This time I glanced over at the jury and made eye contact with several of them, my heart still in my throat. Instead of the impassive expressions they’d worn in the last two weeks, they looked relaxed. Friendlier. Less scary. And they were looking at me.
That was one of the signs Rob told me might signal a favorable verdict. If the jury walked in and wouldn’t look at me, they probably had convicted me. When they had filed in with their completed verdict forms, I was too nervous to look in their direction.
“As to Count Four, wire fraud, the jury finds the defendant not guilty.”
No waiting this time. The clerk flipped the page to the next form and continued reading, her pace picking up. She must have realized that if she kept pausing before the big reveal on each charge, we’d be here until dark.
“As to Count Five, wire fraud, the jury finds the defendant not guilty.”
I couldn’t relax yet, not quite yet. There were still ten more opportunities to hear I was going to prison.
Fifteen fraud charges. Fifteen chances to hear the clerk announce that the jury had believed my former boss, his former boss, and the government’s accountants and investigators who had testified that I, Miranda Vaughn, participated in a conspiracy to defraud banks and investors. That I, with my business degree from a state school still freshly inked, managed to find a way to outwit regulators for the entire six years I worked at Patterson Tinker Investment Strategies to reap huge profits at the expense of the most established investment advisors in the industry.
Rob’s hand gripped my arm, and I realized that the clerk was done reading the verdicts. The room was blurry, and I felt the wet tears running down my cheeks for the first time. The stress of holding those tears back in the last year had caused me to lose sleep, lose hair, and develop a nasty habit of grinding my teeth when I finally managed to close my eyes at night. But I knew that if I had let loose those emotions, I’d never be able to rein them back in and would have ended up in a stark white room with no interior door knobs where I’d spend my days rocking back and forth and waiting for my next round of pills.
“We did it, Miranda,” Rob whispered, putting an arm around me in an awkward hug.
I looked up to see the judge watching me. Instead of the stern glare I had grown accustomed to, he was almost smiling at me. I blinked. It must have been the tears in the way. But when I wiped my eyes, there it was—Judge Smith’s softening expression, looking like someone’s granddad instead of the dour arbiter of my fate.
The judge addressed the jury, thanked them for their service, directed them to the jury commissioner’s office to turn in their parking passes, and then looked back at me.
“The bond is exonerated. You’re free to go, Ms. Vaughn. Court is recessed.”
He stood, and everyone in the room followed suit. The jurors filed back into their room off the side of the courtroom to collect their belongings. Several of them smiled at me, and I smiled back but could feel my lips start to tremble. I swallowed hard and tried to pull myself together. Rob began gathering the legal pads that littered the defense counsel table.
I stood next to the table, still stunned and unsure what I was supposed to do now. Part of me expected to be found guilty, even knowing that I hadn’t done what the prosecutor accused me of. I had prepared myself for that. Studied the post-conviction proceedings, the deadline for filing a notice of appeal, researched sentencing procedures and even federal prisons. I hadn’t planned what would happen if I were acquitted of all the charges, and I was at a loss as to what to do now.
Turning to the nearly empty courtroom, I saw my lone supporter. The entirety of my cheering section was blowing her nose noisily into a hankie. She came toward me, pulling me into a warm hug over the low railing that separated the gallery from the attorneys and defendants.
“Aunt Marie, when did you get here?”
She gripped me harder. “Somewhere around count seven,” she said. “Rob sent me a text when the jury came back. I hot-footed it right down here.”
I relaxed into her embrace. The familiar scent of Chanel and baked goods that always permeated her clothing soothed me and took me back to the safety of my childhood. She had come straight from work because she was still wearing her apron with the Sugar Plum Bakery logo.
“Miranda, I’ll take care of the bond paperwork,” Rob said, interrupting our family reunion.
I pulled away from Aunt Marie and nodded. Rob’s face was flushed, and he looked two decades younger than his sixty-three years. He seemed incapable of suppressing the huge grin on his face. Suddenly I felt awkward, unsure how to tell him how grateful I was.
“I don’t know what to say,” I said. “Thank you, Rob. Thank you so much.”
The words were inadequate. During the fourteen months since my arrest, I always felt that he believed I was guilty of something, but despite that, he had done an admirable job defending me. He gave me a crooked smile.
“You’re welcome,” he said. “We’ll talk soon. I’m going to see if I can catch a few of the jurors and talk to them. Come by the office later. We’ll celebrate.”
He leaned across the railing to shake Aunt Marie’s hand and was pulled into a tight embrace. When she finally released him, he gave her a kiss on the cheek and smiled as he gently wiped a tear from her face. Then he turned back to the counsel table and continued clearing it of folders and notepads and his laptop computer, sliding the whole mess into the large black case that he’d been wheeling into court every day of the trial. He zipped the case, gave me another quick hug, and walked over to the other counsel table.
I turned to see how the prosecutors were handling the news. My tormentors—an older, brittle veteran prosecuting attorney named Donna Grayson and Matthew Reese, her younger co-counsel, a clean-cut young man who looked like he was my age. Neither of them would look at me, and their expressions were grim as they shook Rob’s hand.
Finally, Matthew Reese made eye contact with me and gave me a nod. “Good luck to you, Ms. Vaughn,” he said.
I almost believed his words were sincere, but then I remembered three days earlier when he called me a thief in his closing argument. I returned the nod without a word, not trusting myself to hold back if I spoke to him—something I’d been forbidden to do for well over a year.
I slipped through the low swinging gate and took Aunt Marie’s arm, leading her out of the dark courtroom into the bright, wide and empty hallway. When I had been arraigned on the fraud charges in this courthouse, the hallway had been packed with reporters clamoring for a comment. But since then, they had lost interest. The prosecutor’s office wouldn’t be putting out a press release on the loss, and I wondered if anyone would even care that I had won. That the woman the government had called “a slick con artist and one of the masterminds of the greatest financial fraud ever seen in this state” was walking out of court and not heading to prison.
I was free to go. No longer facing a decade in prison. Not under a cloud of allegations that had cost me my career, my good name, and my peace of mind. That had driven off friends. Led to the break-up of a five-year relationship. Cost me every last dime of savings and most of Aunt Marie’s retirement as well. I walked up to the wall of windows and looked down on the city, the busy intersection by the federal courthouse, the people jaywalking to get to the Starbucks across the street. A normal day, with everyone bustling about in the bright afternoon sunlight, enjoying a typical California summer day.
I was free to go.
Free.
To go where?
__________________________________
Giveaway
5 signed Print copies of Chasing the Dollar
September 24, 2014
Spotlight On: Rush by Eve Silver
Rush (The Game #1)
by Eve Silver
Release Date: June 11, 2013
Publisher: Harper Teen
Summary from Goodreads:
So what’s the game now? This, or the life I used to know?
When Miki Jones is pulled from her life, pulled through time and space into some kind of game—her carefully controlled life spirals into chaos. In the game, she and a team of other teens are sent on missions to eliminate the Drau, terrifying and beautiful alien creatures.
There are no practice runs, no training, and no way out. Miki has only the guidance of secretive but maddeningly attractive team leader Jackson Tate, who says the game isn’t really a game, that what Miki and her new teammates do now determines their survival, and the survival of every other person on this planet. She laughs. He doesn’t. And then the game takes a deadly and terrifying turn.
Excerpt
Color and sound explode, too bright, too loud. Even the air on my skin feels like it’s too much. My fingers go lax. The bag’s handle slides down my palm, then along my fingers to the tips, impossibly slow. The world tips and tilts and I flail for balance.
Luka grabs my hand and holds tight.
I blink. My house, my open front door, Dad, they’re all gone. My breath comes in short gasps and every muscle in my body feels like it’s knotted up tight.
I’m standing in a grassy clearing bounded by trees.
The lobby.
We’ve been pulled.
___________________________________
(UK and Australian cover)
Available from (US links):
On sale for only $1.99 at the following links only:
Amazon UK│Amazon AU│iTunes UK│iTunes AU│iTunes IE│iTunes NZ
Books in this series:
About the Author
Eve Silver lives with her gamer husband and sons, sometimes in Canada, but often in worlds she dreams up. She loves kayaking and sunshine, dogs and desserts, and books, lots and lots of books. Watch for the first book in Eve’s new teen series, THE GAME: RUSH, coming from Katherine Tegen Books, June 2013. She also writes books for adults.
Author Links:
GIVEAWAY:
Book Blitz Organized by:
Spotlight On: Phobic, by Courtney Pearson
IFB is hosting the promo event for Cortney Pearson’s YA Horror release, Phobic . Continue below for a teaser and giveaway.
Series: The Forbidden Doors #1
Release date: September 8th 2014
Purchase: Amazon
Synopsis via Goodreads:
Fifteen-year-old Piper Crenshaw knows her house is strange. It’s never needed repairs since it was built in the 1800s, and the lights flicker in response to things she says. As if those things aren’t creepy enough, it’s also the place where her mother committed murder.
To prove she’s not afraid of where she lives, Piper opens a forbidden door, which hides a staircase that leads to the ceiling. That’s when the flashbacks of the original residents from 1875 start, including a love affair between two young servants. Each vision pulls Piper deeper into not only their story, but also her house. Piper confides in her best friend, Todd, whom she’s gradually falling for, but even he doesn’t believe her. At least, not until her house gets axed during a prank, and the act injures Piper instead, cutting a gash the size of Texas into her stomach.
Piper realizes her house isn’t haunted—it’s alive. To sever her link to it, she must unravel the clues in the flashbacks and uncover the truth about her mother’s crime, before she becomes part of her house for good.
About the Author
Cortney Pearson is a book nerd who studied literature at BYU-Idaho, a music nerd who plays clarinet in her local community orchestra, and a writing nerd who creates books for young adults. She lives with her husband and three sons in a small Idaho farm town.
www.cortneypearson.com
twitter.com/cor2ney
facebook.com/cor2ney
a Rafflecopter giveaway
September 23, 2014
Spotlight On: Unrequited by Emma Grey
Unrequited
by Emma Grey
Release Date: 05/26/14
Summary from Goodreads:
Seventeen-year-old Kat Hartland loathes Unrequited, the world’s biggest boy band. Is she the only girl
in Sydney who can’t be bothered with perfect-looking Angus Marsden?
Give her 5 Seconds of Summer. Now. Or maybe the seriously-hot med student who rescued her on a train—and who could
be Douglas Booth’s twin! Perfect formal partner, much?But when Kat comes face to face with Angus Marsden himself, things start to get complicated. Very. Throw in a deranged female popstar, final exams, a part in the musical and a mum who just doesn’t get it—and where is her best friend?When did life get so crazy? Kat’s just an ordinary schoolgirl.
Isn’t she?
Buy Links:Amazon
* Barnes
& Noble * Kobo
Books
Excerpt
She tears away the tissue paper and exposes the music score. Sitting at the piano, she places it on the music stand and takes a deep breath.
The first few bars are hers. Half the song is hers, actually … and then …
Wow.
Wow.
She has to pause while she breathes the melody in for a minute. It’s good. Better than her original. Annoyingly good …
Who wrote this??
There’s no-one around to sing the male part, but she can hear it in her head. It’s perfect. It’s like a professional has picked up her amateurish scribblings and worked magic on them, and that’s both sort of brilliant and sort of sad …
I also wanted to say, you have a beautiful voice.
Yeah. Really?
Believe that and you could be a star one day.
She so could not be a star. Let’s face reality!
If you want to get in touch …
Um … with a random stranger? But the song works. It more than works. It works in a way that makes her think for a second that she could almost be on the brink of something real. But honestly, writing a song—even a good one—is one thing. Performing it? She’s always wanted to compose, but she’s never really wanted the spotlight. Or, maybe if she’s truly honest, she has, but she’s always been terrified of it.
About the Author
Emma Grey has two teenage girls, a three-year-old boy, a couple of businesses and another teen novel in the pipeline. Her first book, ‘Wits’ End Before Breakfast! Confessions of a Working Mum’ was published in 2005.
Author Links:
GIVEAWAY:
3 – $10 Amazon Gift Cards (INT)
Book Blitz Organized by:
September 22, 2014
Spotlight On: A.B. Michaels’s THE ART OF LOVE/SINNER’S GROVE
Celebrating the Release of Sinner’s Grove,
Here’s the Book That Begins the Saga …
Free on Amazon September 23-24: The Art of Love
Title: The Art of Love
Author: A.B. Michaels
Series: Sinner’s Grove (Prequel)
With nothing but a strong back and a barrel full of ambition, August Wolff finds wealth beyond measure in the frozen goldfields of the Klondike. Success, however, comes at an unbearably high price. Now Gus walks alone, and all the money in the world can’t buy him what he needs.
In the late 1800’s, when women are largely seen and not heard, Amelia Starling longs for a life limited only by her imagination. Blessed with abundant artistic talent and an even bigger heart, she moves to the boom town of San Francisco, hoping to make her mark and living with the pain of a sacrifice no woman should have to make.
Two wounded yet defiant individuals meet at the dawn of a new century, discovering a passion eclipsing all they’d ever known. Longing to build a life together, can they overcome the dictates of a cruel and spiteful society?…The Art of Love is the prequel to the just-released contemporary romantic suspense novel, Sinner’s Grove. Sinner’s Grove is available today and tomorrow only for 99 cents on Amazon.
FREE ON AMAZON!
Title: Sinner’s Grove
Author: A.B. Michaels
Series: Sinner’s Grove #1
A startling discovery when she was 14 left San Francisco artist Jenna Bergstrom estranged from her family; unforeseen tragedy only sharpened her loneliness. But now her ailing grandfather needs her expertise to re-open the family’s once-famous artists’ retreat on the California coast. The problem? She’ll have to face architect Brit Maguire, the ex-love of her life.
Seven years ago, Brit spent a magical time with the girl of his dreams, only to have her disappear from his life completely. Now she’s back, helping with the biggest architectural renovation of his career. No matter how deep his feelings still run, Brit can’t afford the distraction of Jenna Bergstrom, because something is going terribly wrong with the project at Sinner’s Grove.
As Jenna and Brit struggle to keep their passion in check, unseen enemies close in, bent on destroying more than just her grandfather’s dream. Through the prism of ever-increasing danger, Jenna finally discovers what true family—and true love—is all about. But will it be too late?
Purchase on Amazon for 99¢ for a limited time!
*****************************************************************
Excerpt from Art of Love
Dressed in formal attire, Gus arrived an hour after the party had begun. No sense in milling around too long and having people think he actually wanted to be there. He talked to a few people he recognized and lingered at the back of the ballroom, watching the hoopla unfold. Turns out he’d made it to the Firestones’ Pacific Heights mansion just in time.
“And now, may we present The Family, a painting by Amelia Starling.” Edward and Josephine, Will’s parents, jointly pulled a silk cord and the curtain rose, so to speak, on a huge canvas.
The guests erupted in a collective “Oh!” The painting was incredible, unlike any family portrait Gus had ever seen. He started to move through the crowd to see it better, but froze at what, or rather who, he saw next.
“And we are happy to introduce the creator of this brilliant work, Miss Amelia Starling.”
The woman who stepped forward, smiling at the crowd, was none other than Ruthie … but not the sweet young girl Gus had met several weeks before. No. This woman was beyond beautiful, her eyes with some kind of color on them that made them seem even larger and more exotic than before, her gorgeous dark hair swept up with some kind of shiny netting woven through it, and glittery diamonds hanging from her delicate ears. And her body. Lord have mercy. Her body was encased in a long, deep-colored dress, a kind of red, he thought, that displayed her breasts and every other curve with elegance and grace. She was magnificent.
Gus was furious.
He strode through the crowd but stopped so that she could see him as she talked to one admirer after another. At one point she saw him and her eyes grew wide. He continued to stare at her and she didn’t look away. The man she was talking to—a geezer with money, no doubt—finally had to touch her arm to get her attention. Good.
He waited, patiently, until the crowed had thinned and the Firestones had announced the buffet was open. Then he made his move.
“I take it this is what you meant by ‘a little of this and a little of that’,” he said.
She smiled awkwardly, looking around the room, probably for someone to come and bail her out.
“No one’s going to rescue you this time … Ruthie.” He stepped closer and noticed she was breathing rapidly; it was doing wonderful things to her cleavage. “Who is Ruthie, by the way? Did you just make her up on the spot?”
“No. It’s my middle name,” she explained in a quiet voice. “Look, Mr. Wolff …”
“Oh, so you know my name.”
“I knew who you were the instant I saw you.” Her chin rose. “Your … reputation precedes you.”
“Ah. Well, I’ll tell you what I tell everybody else: don’t believe everything you read.” He cocked his head. “Why did you lie about who you were?”
She shrugged her beautiful shoulders. “I don’t know. I guess I wanted to hear an honest opinion of my work. You would hardly have been straight with me had you known I painted it.”
Gus leaned in to whisper in her ear. She smelled like lavender. “I assure you, Miss Starling, I would be nothing but straight with you.”
The young woman stepped back and glared at him. “I’m sure you would be, Mr. Wolff, until the next distraction turned your head.” She made a point of looking around the room. “Speaking of which, where is the melodious Miss Lindemann? I don’t see her anywhere.”
This woman was a pip. Gus wanted more of her. He captured her gaze and answered calmly. “Miss Lindemann and I aren’t seeing each other anymore. I haven’t been with a woman since before you and I met.” He mimicked her perusal of the ballroom, even though most of the guests had migrated to the dining area. “Come to think of it, where is your swain—or swains, as the case may be? Let’s see, there’s Charles, from the other night, and then there’s your live-in. What’s his name? Sander? My my, how do you keep them all straight?” He smiled wickedly. “Oh dear, there’s that word ‘straight’ again.”
Miss Starling’s delectable face, which had shown wariness before, now exploded into a storm of outrage. Apparently so mad she didn’t care who saw her, she pulled her arm back to slap Gus’s face. He caught her arm easily and wrapped it around his waist. Once again he pulled her close and nuzzled her. “I don’t give a damn who you’re with today, as long as you’re with me tomorrow.”
“That is never going to happen,” she hissed.
“Never say never,” he said, letting his breath caress her ear. He let go of her and stepped back, his voice rising to a normal level and his tone serious and heartfelt. “I am giving it to you straight, Miss Starling. I don’t know a lot about art, but I do know how something makes me feel. Your work is astonishing. You know how to capture the … what shall I call it? The truth of a given moment. That is rare and something to be very, very proud of.”
The siren opened her mouth but no words came out. As they stared at each other, Will walked up. “Ah, I see you’ve finally met Lia,” he said. “Isn’t she spectacular?”
Keeping his eyes on her, Gus concurred with a murmured, “Yes indeed. Spectacular.”
*****************************************************************
About the Author
A native of northern California, A.B. Michaels holds master’s degrees in history and broadcasting, and worked for many years in the public relations and marketing fields. She currently lives in Boise, Idaho with her husband and two furry “sons” who don’t seem to realize they’re just dogs. For more information about the Sinner’s Grove series, including upcoming titles, please visit http://www.abmichaels.com.
Website | Twitter | Google+ | Pinterest | Facebook
*****************************************************************
Giveaway
Hosted by Good Choice Reading Blog Tours
Review: Wild About Rachel, by Blaire Edens ~ @BlaireEdens #romance
In Wild About Rachel, Blair Edens gives us a book that is funny, sexy, sweet, and just a little bit untamed. Rachel Hansworth Morrow’s soon-to-be ex-husband has left her in debt and in the lurch, and with only a waitressing job at the worst diner in town to support her, she is about to lose the house she inherited from her grandmother. Mark Winters, the nerd who tutored her in high school, is back from a stint in the military, running a local wild-animal retrieval company, looking to hire someone—and not even close to being the geek she remembers. Instead, he’s strong, sexy, and intense. Rachel needs a job, but the idea of wrestling snakes and alligators terrifies her. And Mark is looking to hire her for much more—he needs someone to pretend to be his fiancée in order to comfort his dying mother in her final days.
This novel is absolutely delightful—wrestling alligators was never so much fun! Mark is fiercely protective, but also willing to help Rachel learn to stand on her own again—even as he teaches her how deal with wild animals. More importantly, they both learn the value of reconnecting, and of how to approach love in its natural habitat. I’m absolutely wild about this book, and I think you will be, too!
5 STARS
__________________________
Happy Release Day!
Former debutante Rachel Hansworth longs for the days when “alligator” was followed by “pumps” or “handbag.” Broke, Rachel takes the only job she can find: removing nuisance animals from Florida homes. Unfortunately, fighting the attraction to her boss proves more difficult than wrestling a gator.
Army veteran Mark Winters needs help with his business, but he wants Rachel more. He must honor a promise to his dying mother and find a fiancée. A real girlfriend isn’t part of the plan—he’s been there, done that. There’s only one problem: He can’t stop kissing Rachel.
She refuses to be duped by love again, and he won’t let a few hot make-out sessions tear down the walls he’s erected. But she’s all about the big bonus she’ll receive if she helps Mark. They’ll lower their defenses enough to trust each other when a wild animal is involved, but can they pull off the fake fiancée ruse and not be bitten by love
Excerpt
“You want me to wrestle what?” Rachel Hansworth Morrow wasn’t sure she’d heard him right.
“Alligators,” repeated Mark. “But it’s so much more than alligators. They’re just a small part of what Wild Things relocates. If squirrels or raccoons get into their attic, people call me.”
“I’m sorry to have wasted your time with this interview.” She stood up to leave, and extended her hand. “Thanks for seeing me anyway.”
Mark stood as well, and took her hand in his warm one. His thumb caressed the back of her hand, and she saw him glance down and frown.
Embarrassed, she pulled her hand back and tucked it in the pocket of her borrowed suit. She hadn’t been able to have manicures in months thanks to her no-good-cheating-almost-ex-husband.
“Rach, come on and sit back down.”
She’d been mortified when she walked in and recognized the interviewer.
Ten years ago, he’d been the biggest nerd in Webster’s Reef, maybe in all of Florida. She hadn’t recognized his voice on the phone, and he hadn’t mentioned his last name. But when she noticed the small scar lining the side of his left cheek that had earned him the unfortunate nickname of Frankenstein, there was no doubt he was the same guy she’d known since elementary school.
Mark Winters wasn’t a nerd anymore. The skinny, awkward frame had transformed into a well-toned, delicious body. Dressed in a sharply pressed white button-down shirt and khaki shorts, every inch of his six foot two inch frame looked solid. With skin tanned to a sun-kissed bronze, he didn’t have the look of a gym rat, but that of an outdoorsman. The blond hairs on his legs caught the sunlight beaming through the window, showing off his muscular calves to their best advantage.
But there was something else. Beyond the physical changes, he now had an edge, something hard and sharp, buried just below the surface. It wasn’t something she could see or smell, but something she sensed on a deep level, subtle but unmistakable. Her mouth went Las Vegas dry.
She hesitated now, looking into his eyes. She saw sincerity. Do I really want to degrade myself any more looking for a job?
“I’m not very good with animals to begin with, not to mention I’m terrified of snakes and alligators.”
“Let’s go to lunch. We can finish the interview there.”
Buy Links
About the Author
Blaire Edens lives in the Appalachian Mountains lining the North Carolina and Tennessee border grew up on a farm that’s been in her family since 1790. Of Scots-Irish descent, her most famous ancestor, John Comyn, Lord of Badenoch and Lord of Lochaber, Guardian of Scotland, was murdered by Robert the Bruce on the altar of the Greyfirars Church at Dumfries.
She has a degree in Horticulture from Clemson University. She’s held a myriad of jobs including television reporter, GPS map creator, and personal assistant to a fellow who was rich enough to afford to pay someone to pick up the dry cleaning. When she’s not plotting, she’s busy knitting badly, running slowly, or listening to Blues greats like John Lee Hooker, Taj Mahal, and Muddy Waters.
Blaire loves iced tea with mint, hand-stitched quilts, and yarn stores. She refuses to eat anything that mixes chocolate and peanut butter or apple and cinnamon. She’s generally nice to her mother, tries to remember not to smack her bubble gum, and only speeds when no one’s looking.
Connect with Blaire
September 21, 2014
Character Interview: Broken Souls by Laurie Olerich
Broken Souls by Laurie Olerich
Series: Primani, #4
Publication Date: September 5, 2014
Genre: Paranormal Romance/Urban Fantasy
CHARACTER INTERVIEW
Character Name: Rori Austin
Character Bio: Rori Austin lives in Brooklyn, New York. Her mother died when she was three, and she was raised in foster homes until she moved out on her own at age 17. With no known family, she’s found love and friendship in a kind elderly man named Arthur and a sexy street vendor called Raine. Life hasn’t been sweet for Rori, but she’s scratching out an existence the best way she can. A bit of a bookworm, she can be found in the New York public library every Thursday. Although she’s a city girl, she longs for the fresh air of the mountains and a chance for the peace it brings.
Describe yourself. What is your worst and best quality?
“Let’s see… My best quality is I’m resilient. Nothing much gets me down for long. I mean, really. I have rats in my apartment, a freaky peeper in my window, and barely enough food to live on. But somehow I know this isn’t my life… it’s a speed bump, a hiccup. My real life is somewhere out there waiting for me. It’s only a matter of time. Worst quality? Hmm. I’m pretty cynical. You could even say I have trust issues. Yeah. Definitely. Trust issues.”
What is the one thing you wish other people knew about you?
“I hate that I can’t save the people in my visions. It tears me apart inside. But I can’t tell anyone this. I can’t tell anyone about my visions. They wouldn’t understand. Back to those trust issues again.”
What is your biggest secret?
“Most of my secrets would make your skin crawl. You don’t really want the details. Let’s just say Father Joseph is the least of my worries.”
What are you most afraid of?
“Other than being buried alive? Being possessed by a demon; losing control of my free will. Once upon a time, I lived in a bubble of denial where demons didn’t exist. I was safe. Now? Not so much. The truth nearly killed me.”
Do you want to elaborate on that?
“Absolutely not.”
Okay, so on a lighter note. What’s your favorite flavor of ice cream?
“Vanilla! No, wait. Vanilla with caramel swirl. Maybe with some banana slices on top. Dec’s crazy about caramel too. There’s always a jar in his fridge.”
Really? Does the jar stay in the kitchen?
“Um, no.”
Do you want to elaborate on that?
“Let’s just say Dec’s taught me a thing or two about sex. Before I met him, my ideas were…limited. He’s very creative. You wouldn’t believe the things he can do with his mind. Telekinesis is so hot.”
How are things going with him? Any plans you’d like to share?
“Dec is wonderful. He’s everything you think he is. Warm, funny, protective and sexy. He keeps me laughing. I’m learning to trust again.”
Speaking of trust. Are you learning to trust your psychic powers? It’s a lot to handle, isn’t it?
“Yes! There are days when I want to hide in the dark and cry. I used to be completely overwhelmed by the dreams, but now I understand where they came from. Now I understand what my powers really are about. Thanks to Mica and Killian, I’m finally able to control them. Things are definitely getting better. Dec and I are working some new cold cases too. Knowing I can help people find closure is a big relief for me. It helps me make sense of things.”
It sounds like things in your life are calming down. Do you have any regrets?
“My mom’s death. She died before I could know her. Since I never knew my father and my grandparents were dead, growing up was pretty lonely. Living in foster homes was bad enough, but when my nightmares started, my childhood went to Hell. I mean, really, who wants to raise a kid who wakes up screaming every night? I can’t help feeling my mother would’ve had answers to my questions. She would’ve been able to help me deal. I wish I would’ve known her.”
One last question for you. Where do you see yourself in another year?
“Well, I’m helping Sean and Dec with their hit list. But I need a real job too. I don’t want to live off of them. So I’m going to school to become a private investigator. Yeah, I know, it’s not as exciting as killing demons for a living, but I’m not really comfortable with violence. I’m good at research though so this might be a great way to use all of my skills. We’re living in the penthouse now. I’m not sure if we’ll stay there or get a place of our own. Sean has an annoying habit of popping in every few days. It’s not very private.”
Since you brought up Sean, I have to ask one more question. How hot is he really?
“Steaming! The man moves like sex. I don’t know how Aisling blows him off. He’s got a vibe that just sucks you into his space, you know what I mean? It’s those eyes. Wow. Honestly, it kind of scares the hell out of me! Yeah, he’s that hot. And yes, Dec absolutely hates it.”
Stalked by evil…
Psychic Rori Austin’s life is over. She just doesn’t know it yet. Plagued by recurring nightmares and terrifying fugues, she’s hanging on by a thread. When she blacks out and wakes up in 1969, she knows she’s out of control. Broke and alone in the city that never sleeps, she’s desperate to find someone who can hold back the darkness in her mind. When gorgeous Declan shows up out of nowhere, she’s thrilled until he starts asking questions she has no intention of answering.
Haunted by guilt…
Primani Declan Manning is a ruthless killer and a renowned healer. Demons fear him. Humans love him. Life is good. The last thing he needs is a human woman. After saving Rori’s life, he walks away but can’t forget the fear in her exotic eyes. They haunt him, dredging up memories better left buried deep. Intrigued by her secrets, he uncovers the horrifying truth. She’s been marked for Hell, and her time is up. He’ll risk his own immortality to save her so ul…if they can find the demon in time.
Glancing at her watch, Rori picked up her pace. She never had enough time. In her universe, it ran in fast-forward. It didn’t matter how much time she gave herself to get ready, she was always late. And of course, she was out of bus money so she was walking – no, make that running – the ten blocks to the flower shop where she worked. The owner, Angela Donatucci, was a total bi-otch about time. She was opening, so technically Angela wouldn’t know if she was on time or not… but she had a pissy habit of showing up out of the blue. “Spot checks”, she called it. She’d been busted three times in the last month. One more time, and she was jobless. And jobless meant homeless soooo… Crap! Dodging around a kid on a scooter, she hung a fast right and cut through the alley behind the Downward Dog Chinese slop shop. A couple of delivery trucks were pulled up to the back door. No problem. She’d just squeeze through. With her mind on the time, she didn’t see the backup lights until it was too late.
A starburst exploded and then… nothing but darkness. Excited voices babbled nearby, but they drifted on the wind. Sirens warbled in the distance, the sound fuzzy and faint.
“Hey! Are you all right?” a man’s voice snapped next to her ear.
Yes, yes, I’m fine! She tried to speak, but her mouth wasn’t working. No sounds came out. This was so not good.
“Holy shit, Ramirez, you killed her!”
What? No way! I can’t be dead! She struggled to move, to show them she wasn’t dead, to sit up, something, anything, but she was frozen inside her uncooperative body. A wave of dizziness rolled in slow motion through her brain, spreading from head to toe. She was too weak to twitch. She strained to lift her hand, but vicious pain stabbed into her belly. Why wasn’t anyone doing anything? Didn’t she moan? She could’ve sworn she’d moaned out loud. If ever there was a time to moan, this was definitely it. No one responded, so maybe she hadn’t. Darkness pressed in, her inner vision tunneling to a single spear of bright light. Seriously? Damn… I am dying. Well, this sucks.
I should’ve seen this coming.
Hi! I’m Laurie Olerich and writing is my passion. I love to create guilty pleasures full of exciting locations, rollercoaster action, strong, quirky heroines, and steaming hot heroes who’ll raise the temperature in any room you’re in! Paranormal romance? Check! Urban fantasy? Check! Romantic suspense? Check! My Primani series combines the best of the three. When I’m not plotting, writing, or fantasizing about my next hero, I’m planning parties, traveling, and spending lazy nights with my son, my Dal pals, and my friends. If you’d like to get to know me better and keep up with my works in progress, look me up on the Internet. I’d love to hear from you!
Website ~ Facebook ~ Twitter ~ Goodreads ~ Email
September 20, 2014
Sanguinary Blog Blitz
Sanguinary, by Margo Bond Collins
A Night Shift Novel
Only fifty years left before vampires rule the world.
When Dallas police detective Cami Davis joined the city’s vampire unit, she planned to use the job as a stepping-stone to a better position in the department.
But she didn’t know then what she knows now: there’s a silent war raging between humans and vampires, and the vampires are winning.
So with the help of a disaffected vampire and an ex-cop addict, Cami is going undercover, determined to solve a series of recent murders, discover a way to overthrow the local Sanguinary government, and, in the process, help win the war for the human race.
But can she maintain her own humanity in the process? Or will Cami find herself, along with the rest of the world, pulled under a darkness she cannot oppose?
_____________________________________________
Forthcoming October 8, 2014
Pre-Order on Kindle: http://www.amazon.com/Sanguinary-Night-Shift-Book-1-ebook/dp/B00MR5VGV8/
_____________________________________________
Excerpt
It hit me, hard, that no matter how I twisted it around in my head, Reese was going to be more than just an informant to me. I didn’t know if I could trust him, this cowboy-vampire I had been thrown together with. But something about him sang to me, like a tune just out of hearing, almost recognized—a song of protection and death. And I wanted to dance to it, almost as much as I wanted to escape it.
The department wouldn’t force me to stick it out, wouldn’t expect me to team up with a vampire for anything more than the most superficial of connections.
I could walk out at any time.
But I wouldn’t. He’d help us find and stop whoever was killing these women.
That’s why I’ll stay in this.
“I’ll tell you everything,” I said to the vampire snarling at me. “But I’ll need your help.”
Reese’s lip dropped back down, covering the fang.
I was glad—it was easier to contemplate joining forces with him when he wasn’t reminding me that he was one of the monsters.
“Talk,” he said.
I shook my head. “Not here,” I said, speaking quietly. How good his hearing might be was only one of the many things I didn’t know about vampires.
He slid up to the bar beside me.
“We can’t leave,” he said, equally softly. I had to lean close to hear him.
“Why not?” I asked.
“Mendoza all but dared me to Claim you, back there.” He didn’t look down at me. “If I don’t bleed you at least a little before we go, he’ll be suspicious.”
At his words, the half-healed bite mark Reese had left on my shoulder throbbed once, sending a hot pulse throughout my entire body.
I wanted the response to be revulsion.
Almost everyone who went undercover with the vamps came out addicted to their bite. The ones who could still string two sentences together, like Garrett, stayed on the force.
The others . . .
The press portrayed us as bumbling and stupid—and maybe we were. Sending detectives in against humanity’s worst nightmare? We were like little kids trying to hold back the dark with matches, bound to get our fingers burned, and worse, maybe burn the house down around us.
I paused and swallowed.
_____________________________________________
Connect with Margo
Amazon Author Page: https://www.amazon.com/author/margobondcollins
Email: MargoBondCollins@gmail.com
Website: http://www.MargoBondCollins.net
Blog: http://www.MargoBondCollins.com
Twitter: https://twitter.com/MargoBondCollin @MargoBondCollin
Google+: https://plus.google.com/116484555448104519902
Goodreads Author Page: http://www.goodreads.com/vampirarchy
Facebook Author Page: https://www.facebook.com/MargoBondCollins
Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/mbondcollins/
_____________________________________________
Join the Sanguinary Blog Blitz!
https://docs.google.com/forms/d/1RLYDdWUKApxPKO5D8-hAQ8p4_EuXrqmSQJBw7OxWWfw/viewform
Spotlight On: A Dead End in Vegas by Irene Woodbury
Title: A Dead End in Vegas
Author: Irene Woodbury
Genre: Women’s Fiction
When the nude body of Dave Sloan’s wife, Tricia, is found dead at the Bellagio in Vegas, he’s stunned. Why was she even there when she told him she was going to a conference in Phoenix? Tricia Sloan’s mysterious death shatters, and later transforms, the lives of those closest to her.
Author Bio
Irene Woodbury’s second novel, A DEAD END IN VEGAS, is a dark, probing look at marriage, infidelity, revenge, and grief. Immersing herself in drama and dysfunction for months on end was a challenge for this upbeat author, whose first book, the humor novel A SLOT MACHINE ATE MY MIDLIFE CRISIS, was published by SynergEbooks in 2011. At first glance, the two novels seem quite different, but both deal with midlife confusion and chaos, and the complexities and unpredictable nature of the human heart. And both, of course, are partially set in Las Vegas, a city Irene got to know well during her years as a travel writer. Between 2000 and 2005, her stories appeared in major newspapers in the U.S., Canada, and Europe. Irene, who graduated from the University of Houston in 1993, lives in Denver with her husband, Richard, a retired correspondent for Time Magazine who edited both of her novels. The couple miss traveling, but, after two novels, Irene insists there’s no greater journey than the one into your own heart and mind.
Links
Author: www.irenewoodbury.com
Publisher: www.synergebooks.com
A Dead End in Vegas: http://www.amazon.com/Dead-End-Vegas-Irene-Woodbury-ebook/dp/B00NCKEFSI/
Excerpt
Dave interrupted Pam. “Excuse me,” he said sharply. “Your husband claimed the suggestive e-mails were written by a hacker? Who on earth could that be?”
“How should I know?” she snapped. “Maybe some disgruntled student who didn’t like the grade they got on a term paper, or a tech major trying to make a name for himself. This is a college campus. There are always precocious students who are bored with regular class-work and amuse themselves by hacking into professors’ e-mail accounts to make trouble. They have some laughs over a few beers and move on to the next victim. It’s everyday life on a college campus.”
Dave sighed.
“So you’re telling me that my wife was an Internet stalker, and the e-mails and photos came from some student hacker?”
“Yes, that’s right,” she confirmed with a nod. “My husband was the victim, not the perpetrator.”
“Excuse me, Mrs. Daggett, but I can’t sit here and listen to this garbage one more minute. Your husband is a liar!” Dave charged, rising from his chair and grabbing his briefcase. He opened it with a flourish and dumped the contents on her desk.
