Twinkle (Sugandha) Varshney's Blog, page 146
November 2, 2017
All He Wants This Christmas by Claire Woods
Title: All He Wants This ChristmasAuthor: Claire WoodsGenre: Contemporary Holiday Romance/Romantic Comedy
Cover Design: J.P. DanielsRelease Date: November 16, 2017
Blurb
Kids adore him.Women pant after him.When he kisses her—she hears the angels sing.But single mom Kate Gilletti has her hands full as it is. Falling for the hunky single dad every woman in town is hot for—is not on her Christmas list.So what, if the looks he gives her could melt the north pole? She has no plans to get involved with another man who looks like sin on a stick.But maybe this Christmas, Kate will learn that some men are totally worth melting for.
Authors note: This is a sweet, funny and sexy holiday read! No Cheating, HEA with plenty of fire to melt those Kindles.
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Excerpt
“It's late...”I grab her hand, “I know...but I don't want the night to be over…yet.”“The kids are tired...”I turn her arm over and draw circles on the middle of her palm with my index finger.“Jesus, man candy, we just met yesterday. What are you doing to me?”I answer with eyes full of promises. Dirty, hot promises you fulfill in the dark.She sucks in her breath; her knees shake as she tries to take her hand back.But I won’t let go.Instead, I drop my face pressing my lips to her palm before looking back up. In that moment, I make a silent promise to her—a vow that this is going to happen someday. "I'm not dating, Gianni.""Good. There's no one is in my way.""But there is..." She nods over to Luca whose teaching Tommy how to play the video game."Nah, I know you’re a package deal. So are we." I nod over to Tommy."You wanna do a playdate tomorrow at my house?""Gianni....""God, I want you.""Slow down.""I can't. It’s been so long, you get it.""I don't do casual sex.""Oh sweetheart, it's going to be anything but casual. I can promise you that."
Author Bio
Claire Woods lives in upstate New York with her dog Ginger and a room full of books. She's horribly shy, never misses a UFC Fight, and has a horrible addiction to sushi and banana peppers (maybe even eating them together).
Books have been her means of escape. It's been a long-standing dream of Claire's to travel to Australia where she hopes to find a hot rugby player to sweep her off her feet and romance her on Bondi Beach while petting koala's and drinking champagne at midnight. (this might be her next book)
Until then, she'll have to write her perfect man on paper while waiting for him to magically appear.
You never know, stranger things have happened.
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Devil’s Kiss Series by Gemma James
Title: Devil's Kiss SeriesAuthor: Gemma JamesGenre: Dark Erotic Romance
Series Blurb
Nothing is black and white when everyone has secrets.
Broke and desperate, Kayla Sutton siphons thousands from her employer to pay for her daughter's treatment, but when her boss finds out, he demands repayment...in the form of her submission.
What started as a game turns into so much more when the past returns, testing the chains that bind Gage and Kayla's hearts together.
She fell for his wicked ways after he blackmailed her, stayed after he kidnapped her, went back to him after he almost destroyed them both with his fury. Now she wants to give him her future.
Willingly.
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#1 THE DEVIL'S KISS
“Don’t think of it as blackmail. Think of it as an alternative to prison. I’d much rather punish you myself.”
Kayla Sutton faces a question no mother wants to face: what would you do to save your daughter? Broke and desperate, she siphons thousands from her employer to pay for her daughter’s treatment, but when Gage Channing discovers her theft, she is shocked to learn that her boss has no intention of turning her over to the police. Instead he issues an ultimatum—give him her sexual submission, or go to jail.
Backed into a corner by a man with no shame, Kayla must find the strength to travel down the path of pain and pleasure. But when her past catches up to her, prompting a free fall into forbidden territory with a man she once loved, Kayla realizes nothing is black and white when everyone around her has secrets.
#2 THE DEVIL'S CLAIM
It’s been a year since Kayla Sutton walked away from Gage Channing. Now he’s back, and so is Ian Kaplan, Kayla’s one-time lover from her college days. Gage’s jealousy is his worst enemy, and when he thinks Kayla has chosen Ian, he sets in motion a drastic plan to claim what’s his. Only Kayla never expects him to infiltrate her heart so effortlessly, and she never dreamed there would come a day when he wouldn’t want her.
Gage believes she’s committed the ultimate sin, but will she use his mistake to finally escape the cage of his obsession? Or will she do whatever it takes to make him see he can entrust his heart to her…just as she’s already lost the core of her being to him?
#3 THE DEVIL'S WIFE
No one claims marriage is easy. That is especially true for Kayla Sutton, because she’s married to a sadist who takes the meaning of the word “dominance” to new heights.
But Kayla should have known. She fell for his wicked ways after he blackmailed her, stayed after he kidnapped her, went back to him after he almost destroyed them both with his unpredictable fury.
Then she married him.
A year has passed since Kayla agreed to love, honor, and obey. Day after day, she survives his volatile nature. On her knees at his feet, underneath him between the sheets, bent over the bed to receive the fiery lash of his belt. But she’s beginning to miss the one thing she promised Gage Channing when she married him: her freedom.
#4 THE DEVIL'S SPAWN
Kayla Sutton has finally submitted.
And now that Gage has his wife firmly under his control again, he won’t stop until he’s extracted every last independent drop from her being.
As each day passes, she learns new ways to accept his dominion. After all, she has a lot to atone for. Flirting with disaster with her ex-lover turned brother-in-law might be forgivable, but it’s not so easily forgotten.
And neither are skeletons. If there’s one thing Kayla has learned it’s that skeletons don’t just come out of the closet; they bust through with the power of a locomotive, mindless of the destruction they cause.
For the sake of her sanity, Kayla must make a tough decision, even if it means leaving everything behind.
Author Bio
Gemma James is a USA Today and Amazon bestselling author of a blend of genres, from new adult suspense to dark erotic romance. She loves to explore the darker side of human nature in her fiction, and she’s morbidly curious about anything dark and edgy, from deviant sex to serial killers. Readers have described her stories as being “not for the faint of heart.”
She warns you to heed their words! Her playground isn’t full of rainbows and kittens, though she likes both. She lives in Oregon with her husband and their four children–three rambunctious UFC/wrestling-loving boys and one girl who steals everyone’s attention.
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One To See Me By Alicia Maxwell
Title: One To See Me Author: Alicia Maxwell Genre: Romance Release Date: November 2, 2017 Cover Designer: Shari Ryan, MadHat CoversHosted by: Buoni Amici Press, LLC.
Can you trust someone who can’t afford to trust you back?Emmeline is ready to be seen. And someone is watching.Emmeline Weiss is facing the most important day of her life. The stakes are high: her high-powered, high-society life in Chicago could come crumbling down around her. But if it did, would she be in a free fall, or would she be free? In a time like this, Emmeline knows she needs to sort enemies from friends—and quickly—but who can she trust? And what if trust has more than ONE definition?As her life dismantles into dark questions and darker answers, the last thing Emmeline expects is for passion and chemistry, physical need and wild sex, to take over. For the first time, with this sexy stranger, Emmeline feels seen.But maybe it’s because someone is watching…
I step inside and gasp. The space is filled with candles. Their lights flicker, casting shadows on the walls. Some tumblers are bigger, filled with shells, others are just small enough to hold the pillars. My heart jumps at the thought of Alex. Who else would have done this? How? He can’t be here. He’s in Miami. Chicago is not his kind of town. Or is it?I take a few tentative steps inside and discover the flow of candles is endless, continuing from the main room to the bedroom. The air smells of candle wax and salty ocean breeze. I walk in slowly, making my way through the space. The bedroom comes partially into view; it’s completely filled with candles and glowing in their light.I make my way in and the whole room is on display. A huge bed is surrounded by flickering lights, a chair tucked into the corner by the floor-to-ceiling window with a view of Michigan Avenue. Alex is sitting in the chair, legs spread wide, elbows on the armrests, hands forming a dome, with index fingers touching his lips. He looks at me quizzically, capturing my reaction.I exhale and visibly relax, his mere presence lowering my stress level by several degrees. “Hi!” I say in breathless voice, suddenly feeling overcome by the emotions of the day, energy leaving me and the warmth from the wine I had over dinner coming back to claim me. I’m ready to give up control for the night, let him be in charge. I’m way too tired.My eyes shine with alcohol glaze, or maybe the unshed tears I kept at bay all day long. I step towards him and extend my arms. He’s on his feet and wrapping me in a hug instantaneously. We inhale each other and stand wordlessly in the middle of countless glimmering candles. Alex finds my lips and kisses me gently, fingers skimming over my cheeks, tucking a loose, curly strand of hair away. Pulling back for just a second to look at my face, he places a gentle kiss on my forehead and tucks me under his chin. I’m so small against him, both physically and emotionally. He is the ever-in-control one. Finally, I feel safe today. We spend minutes engulfed in each other’s embrace. Candles flicker near and far, on every surface of the suite, creating dancing shadows on the walls.Finally, I look up at him, feeling calmed and grounded.
Alicia Maxwell has been an avid reader her whole life. Through the years, she’s enjoyed many genres and authors, from classics, like War and Peace, to modern-day romances. Her latest passion is writing. As a resident of South Florida, she finds inspiration in the fast-paced, urban lifestyle, proximity to the ocean, and the year-round warm weather.Her days are filled with reading, writing, and caring for her family—two children, and a husband, who also happens to be her biggest supporter and best friend.Her two-book literary debut will be self-published in 2017. Look for them, read them, and leave a review. Your feedback and opinions matter and are greatly appreciated! Thanks in advance to each and every one of you!
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November 1, 2017
ALL FOR HIM by E.M. Denning
ALL FOR HIMby E.M. DenningPublisher: PGP Liquid GoldGenre: Romance (older woman, younger man)
Ashley Hartman has always been child free by choice. It’s a decision her first husband knew about when they met and it’s the same decision that tore them apart years later. Now a thirty-six-year-old divorcee with an overly opinionated best friend and a career she no longer wants, Ashley is trying to move on with her life.
Liam White swaggers his way up her driveway and into her life a year after her swift and brutal divorce. Though he’s twelve years younger than her, their friendship is instantaneous and it’s not long before she hires him to finish the renovations on her house.
Their relationship quickly explodes into something neither of them expected. As Ashley starts to let herself believe she could have a second chance at happiness, everything goes sideways.
Ashley woke before Liam the next morning, or at least she thought she did. When she went to slide out of bed, an arm shot out and wrapped around her and he pulled her in close to him. He breathed in deeply, inhaling her scent as she relaxed against him.
“What time is it?” He mumbled as his hand started to roam her body.
“It’s a little after eight.” She grabbed his hand and held it still, then brought it to her lips and she kissed his knuckles. “I’m too sore, Liam.” She whispered, then laughed as he heaved a sigh and relaxed.
“Damn. There go my plans for the morning.”
“You already had plans for the morning.”
“Did I?” Liam buried his face in the back of her neck and sighed. “I think I’d like to stay here all day, just like this.”
“As nice as that would be, don’t we have some renovations to finish?”
Liam groaned. “Can’t I call in sick?”
“Your boss would find out.”
“Do you think she’d fire me?”
“Not likely.”
“Do you think she’d spank me?”
Ashley’s cheeks flushed, and she grinned. “Maybe.”
“Mmm. Calling in sick is sounding better and better. I won’t get fired and I might get a spanking.”
Ashley scooted to the edge of the bed, but yelped, then giggled when Liam quickly recaptured her. She struggled for a moment, but soon Liam had slid on top of her and had her wrists pinned to the mattress.
“We need to get to work, Liam. There’s so much to do.”
“Are you sure you’re too sore? Because you’re sort of hot when you wake up naked in my bed. I can’t help it.” He bent down and kissed the side of her neck.
Despite how sore she was, her body responded to his touch, to the way his hands pinned her wrists. He was powerful, yet gentle. His kisses were soft and his cock was stiff as it pressed against her. The only part of her body that wanted nothing to do with him was her stomach, which chose that moment to growl.
Liam laughed and let her go. He flopped down onto his back and shut his eyes. “Okay. Give me ten minutes to grab a cold shower and we’ll grab breakfast before we start.”
“Do you mind if I borrow something to wear?”
Liam sat up and climbed out of bed. “My clothes will be a little big on you.”
“Yes, but I don’t want to go home wearing my dress from last night, and you still have my thong.”
“I’m not giving it back, either.” Liam reached into his dresser and pulled out a T-shirt and a pair of flannel pajama pants and tossed them to Ashley. “Here. You’ll look hot in these.”
Ashley examined the oversize shirt that was covered in swear words. He’d paired it with a pair of pajama pants that were covered in ninja turtles. “I’m not sure hot is the right word to describe this outfit.”
“Are you kidding me? When girls wear their man’s clothing, it makes them ten times more fuckable. It’s hot. Trust me.”
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E. M. Denning is a writer from British Columbia. She loves her family and her animals and anything cute and fuzzy. She was born a hopeless romantic and when she’s not writing romance, she’s probably reading it. She loves love.
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IRISH WAR CRY by Victoria Danann
IRISH WAR CRYD.I.T., book threeby Victoria DanannGenre: Paranormal Romance
CRAP IN A CAULDRON
What if you woke up to find you're no longer human?
New York Times bestseller, Victoria Danann, author of Best Paranormal Romance Series the past four years in a row, continues the fast paced and breathlessly sexy adventures of D.I.T.
Rosie hired Irish elf twins, Sheridan and Shivaun O'Malley for the newly formed Department of Interdimensional Trespass. They were wild and nearly feral, raised in the New Forest Preserve with no contact with the modern world until Black Swan made them the only female hunters other than Lady Elora Laiken.
When Sher was assigned as Finngarick's partner, they were both stunned to find they weren't only partners, but fated mates. Blissful fated mates who enjoyed each other for the span of less than a month before Sher was abducted by one of the very demons they hunted.
Meanwhile, the "Wild Bunch", Black Swan's new nickname for Rosie's hunters, has its own problems.
Find out why readers are calling this series "addictive", "tantalizing", and "sooooo"elfing" good".
Sizzle with suspense, Victoria's signature humor, kick ass heroines and gorgeous sexy ex-vampire hunting elves. Grab your copy and an oxygen tank! 'Cause you're gonna be breathless. Get it TODAY!
“I brought you food. Why aren’t you eating?”“No’ hungry.”
“Of course you are. Elves must consume food for fuel. It’s part of the inferiority of your species.” She glared at him. “Oh, sorry. I keep forgetting that you’re sensitive about that.”
“I can no’ be sensitive about somethin’ that is no’ true. I simply think ‘tis rude for you to insist on repeatin’ the shite.”
He laughed. “You are inferior, but it’s so adorable when your color changes. Kind of chameleon-like.”
“There’s nothin’ chameleon-like about it. I have fair skin…”
“And you anger easily.”
She ignored that. “Chameleons change colors to match the environment. Do you see anythin’ pink in here?”
He smiled. “Just you.”
“Exactly. So I ask you. Would a superior bein’ get somethin’ so simple so wrong?” He shrugged, smiling and completely undeterred. “Annnnnnd, I do no’ anger easily.”
“Seems so to me.”
“Well, it seems you’re wrong about that, too, then.”
He laughed. “I’ll bet your sister is not so much trouble.”
She barked out a laugh. “Oh, demon, you have no idea. I’m a clump of clotted cream compared to Shivaun.”
“Shivaun.” Lyric turned the name over in his mouth like he liked the taste of it. “It’s more musical than Sheridan.”
“So what?”
The question dripped with suspicion and suddenly she was eager to steer the conversation in another direction. It was killing her to be separated from Torn, little by little, every day. But that was preferable to having her sister fall into the hands of the demon. She could have slapped herself for saying Shivaun’s name out loud.
Even if he was astonishingly beautiful with the sexiest voice imaginable and also good at jigsaw puzzles, she was sure his windowless den was not the future Shivaun dreamed about. Although, since they’d promised each other to be celibate and unmated, they’d never allowed themselves to fantasize about lovers. Or, if they had, they’d never shared with each other. Even twins keep some secrets to themselves.
“Eat. I’m trying to take care of you.”
She glared. “I’m no’ a pet, demon.”
He chuckled. “Well, you kind of are, elfess.”
“Do no’ call me that.”
“What? Elfess?” He chuckled. “Why not? I rather like it. Makes me want to sing ‘Jailhouse rock’.”
“What?” It was clear that she didn’t follow the reference.
“Never mind. But let me just say that, if I did sing ‘Jailhouse Rock’, you’d like it. A lot.”
“Sure.” She flopped onto one of the long divans and drummed her fingers on her thigh.
He cocked his head and studied her in that I-can-see-through-you way of his. “Did you sleep while I was gone?”
“What’s it to you?”
That was ignored because he’d become distracted with a thought. He strode down the hallway that was defined by archways so smoothly curved they looked like beach art made from wet sand.
In a few seconds he was back. “You haven’t used the facilities either.”
“Now you’ve crossed a line. Bathroom usage is personal. Way personal.”
“Whatever. What was the point of having me add a bathroom if you weren’t going to use it?”
“Oh yeah! It was so much work. Was that your fourth finger that you crooked or your fifth?”
“Don’t hate me because I can make things happen at will and you’re a…”
She gave him a look that said, “If you finish that sentence, you’re going to wish you were someplace else.”
“Are you cold?” he asked.
With a flick of his wrist four arched fireplaces carved into smooth walls jumped to life. Even though there was no evidence of fuel, flames crackled and danced over glowing embers.
“Nice trick. No. I’m no’ cold. I’m from the New Forest. ‘Tis very far north which means we do no’ get cold easily.”
“No?”
“No.”
“Even without vodka?”
Faint lines formed between her brows. “By now you should be gettin’ the idea that I’m no’ amusin’ in any way. I’m plain and borin’ and excruciatingly unentertainin’. So let. Me. Go.”
He sat down on the divan across from where she sat. “You so underestimate yourself. I find you more fascinating than anything that’s happened to me… well, maybe ever.”
“’Tis ludicrous. Maybe I’ll call you Ludicrous.”
He shook his head. “My name is Lyric. And there’s already a musician named, well, he doesn’t know how to spell, but still, the idea is taken.” Sher slapped both palms to her face in exasperation. “What was that?”
“This?” She did it again.
“Yes. That.”
“It means I would run from the buildin’ screamin’ at this point if only I could run from the buildin’.”
“I can exchange you for Shi…”
“Do no’ say her name.”
“The interrupting is becoming tedious. Why not?”
“Because you get this funny look on your face like you’re thinkin’ about masturbatin’. And I just do no’ want to see that.”
He laughed out loud. “I can’t imagine why you think you’re not amusing.” His eyes drifted to the Chinese takeout cartons that sat on the large low table between them. “Is it that you don’t like Chinese?”
She looked down at the little white cartons with wire handles and red calligraphy symbols on the sides. Sheridan was a recent convert, since she’d never had Chinese until a few weeks before, but she liked it. Of course. Everybody likes some kind of Chinese and it looked like Lyric had brought a variety buffet.
She did like Chinese. And she hadn’t eaten for what was probably… “How long have I been here?”
“In Loti time? Two weeks.”
“I think that’s impossible,” she said, just realizing that she hadn’t been eating or sleeping or using the new bath facilities.
As if Lyric really could read her mind, he said, “I’m not an expert, but I believe it’s not possible for elves to go so long without food, drink, sleep, and…” He glanced toward the hall that led to the bath, but didn’t want to offend unnecessarily by bringing up such a sensitive subject. Again.
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SIMON SAYSSimon Tvelgar wasn’t always the staid and steady director of the Order of the Black Swan headquarters in Edinburgh who manages the most unruly congregation of talented misfits ever assembled into one organization.
No. He was once a young, beautiful, athletically gifted knight, wild and lustful as any, until he fell in love with a Scottish fae girl who on bereavement leave. He lost her to the stones of the Orkneys as they picnicked there on Lammas twenty years before. She was swallowed up and faded from view, a look of panic on her face as she reached for him while her mouth silently formed his name. He lunged to grab her, but she was simply gone.
Year after year he traveled back to the Orkney Islands and talked to locals, but Shivaun was never seen again. Simon channeled his sorrow and loneliness into work until he eventually rose to the highest position open to an ex Black Swan knight.
Now, for the first time, he thinks there might be someone who could find Shivaun. Rosie Storm.
Finngarick“When it came to my attention that D.I.T. was going to Dublin, I thought of Torn Finngarick. After all he knew the culture and could, perhaps, be useful. I confess to the ulterior motive of wanting to see all the floaters brought in from the cold. He was one of the remaining few. And everybody deserves another chance. Right?
As I mentioned earlier, my wife was working for Black Swan setting up a unit called Department of Interdimensional Trespass. It seemed that creatures coming and going at will were causing havoc that had, until recently, been unexplained, believed to be fiction of the myth or folklore variety, or dismissed as interplanetary visitations. Rosie was busy hiring and training people who were going to function as police.
Anyway, I had served with Sir Finngarick when I was first knighted as the fourth member of the infamous Z Team and came to know him quite well. Most believed he was irredeemable. I did not.”Glendennon Catch, Sovereign, Jefferson Unit
Victoria Danann is the New York Times bestselling author of twenty romances. For the past four years in a row, Victoria's Knights of Black Swan series have won prestigious Reviewers' Choice Awards for both BEST PARANORMAL ROMANCE SERIES and PARANORMAL ROMANCE NOVEL OF THE YEAR. This past year three of her series and three of her novels were nominated. Two of her series took the top two places and two of her books took first and second place in the PNR Novel of the Year category.In addition to vampire hunting knights, Victoria writes other paranormal romance, scifi, fantasy, and contemporary romance.
Victoria co-hosts the popular ROMANCE BETWEEN THE PAGES podcast which can be found on itunes or at → www.romancecast.com
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Fervent by Claudia Burgoa
Title: FerventAuthor: Claudia BurgoaGenre: Contemporary RomanceRelease Date: October 27, 2017
Blurb
As a former Army Ranger who works for a high intelligence, private security company, I’ve seen my fair share of death, betrayal, and pain. I’ve lived them. I trust no one, only my brothers, and my best friend.I wasn’t always like that. Everything changed the day my parents died and my nation was attacked. Since then, family comes first. Work is my mistress. Nothing else matters. That is, until she walked into my life.Short dress, long, tanned legs, and honey eyes that make me weak. She’s chaos.She’s sunshine and daffodils.She’s loud.She’s a fighter.She’s a dreamer.She’s everything I hate.Why is it so hard to walk away from her?
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Excerpt
Stretched t-shirt, dry blood and badass attitude looked good on him. That’s nothing compared to Harrison Everhart wearing a suit. His tall, broad, body wrapped in a dark gray is a site I want to photograph, frame and stare at it forever. He’s the type of man who behaves differently depending on the place and time. For the past five hours, we chatted pleasantly about our families. Nothing too superficial but nothing too intimate, either. If I had time to date, he’d be the kind of man I’d choose. Easy to talk to, funny, and a gentleman. A refreshing touch from the guys who I hook up with when I have time to go out with my friends. Which lately it’s been never. Maybe I have time, but I don’t want to waste it by doing the same thing over and over again. Meeting a guy who has little social skills, only talks about himself, and by the end of the date is the only one who is satisfied isn’t great. I have my little friendly toys that to do a better job and I don’t have to listen to nonsense. This would be a great subject for a sociology class; the interactions between humans, and how out of touch they are with one another that dating has become a joke. What happened to love letters? The chase is so much different now than it was back when my parents dated. I should quit the Bureau and go back to school. Finish my psychology degree, go into anthropology or sociology. I would enjoy doing that more than having to jump through hoops to show that I’m capable of more things than my superiors like to acknowledge. If anything, I can write a book with Mom’s letters and notes. A manual on how it’s done. “Everything okay?” Harrison asks when the service car stops, and the driver opens my door. “You’ve been quiet since we left the party.”Define okay? My skin tingles every time you touch me. Your deep voice makes me shiver, and dancing in your arms was a bit torturous because everything inside me wanted you to touch more than my bare shoulders and my waist. But yeah, I’m cool. “Your brother and Hazel never arrived at the party,” I comment, not disclosing that I’d like to find out how my fake future boyfriend kisses. “Gia wasn’t there either.” “I’m sorry about that. If you want, I can try to find out her whereabouts. My people can hack her phone and track her daily activities. He smirks and winks. “We can start stalking her.” “Stalking?” I boom, laughing and covering my mouth when a couple walking close to us turns to glare at me. “Yeah, that’s the word and you know what they say, ‘couples that stalk together stay together.’” He grins, his blue-crystal eyes shining with the post light. That grin is addictive. I shouldn’t mind pretending to be with him while I’m working. A little fun on the side, some sexy times. Sex. I haven’t had that in a long time. So long that I can only remember what my toys can do for me. But I care. He’s a distraction. Each time he smirks, touches me or talks with the low-bedroom voice I want to jump him. That’s not only unprofessional but also illogical. “Anything for the sake of the case, right?” My voice comes out a little throaty, needy. He clears his throat, looking around and poking the elevator. “We should do this again,” he says, leaning closer to me. “Technically, we have to do it again.”Have I mentioned this is the best case I’ve ever worked on in my entire life.” He leans forward, kissing my cheek. His lips lingering close to my ear for one too many seconds. His musk-wood scent making my stomach flutter. “Thank you,” I swallow hard, turning around and stepping into the elevator. “We can discuss our next move tomorrow.” I poke the elevator, looking at the doors that start closing his gaze locks with mine. His eyes darken, the intensity of that gaze makes me feel vulnerable, bare. I imagine my skin searing with the touch of his big hands. As the doors close, my phone rings. An incoming message. Unknown number reads the screen. Unknown: This was the best first date I’ve had in a long time. Thank you.
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Claudia grew up with a childhood that resembled a caffeine-injected soap opera.
She lives in Colorado working for a small IT company, managing her household filled with three confused dogs, her geek husband, two daughters wrought with fandoms and a son who thinks he’s the boss of the house. To survive she works continually to find purpose for the voices flitting through her head, plus she consumes high quantities of chocolate to keep the last threads of sanity intact.
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Greco’s Game
Thriller / Suspense / Action / RomanceDate Published: November 1, 2017Publisher: Regis Books
Colonel Aleksandr Talanov – the “ice man” – is married to a woman he wishes he could love. But he can’t, and it’s an ugly consequence of his training with the KGB. Even so, no one should have to experience what Talanov experiences: the brutal murder of his wife in front of his eyes.
Wracked with guilt and suspected of plotting her death, Talanov spirals downward on a path of self-destruction. He should have been killed, not her. He was the one whose violent past would not leave them alone. Months tick by and Talanov hits rock bottom on the mean streets of Los Angeles, where he meets a hooker named Larisa, who drugs and robs him.
But in the seedy world of human trafficking ruled by the Russian mafia, Larisa made the mistake of stealing the ice man’s wallet. In it was Talanov’s sole possession of value: his wedding photo. Talanov tracks Larisa down to get that photo because it reminds him of everything that should have been but never was, and never would be because an assassin’s bullet had mistakenly killed his wife. Or was it a mistake?
The answer lies in Greco’s Game, a chess match played in 1619 that is famous for its queen sacrifice and checkmate in only eight moves. In an unusual alliance, Talanov and Larisa team up to begin unraveling the mystery of what Talanov’s old KGB chess instructor regarded as the most brilliant example of how to trap and kill an opponent. The question is: who was the target?
Excerpt
CHAPTER 1
TALANOV slowly opened his eyes to the sound of canned laughter. You stupid idiot, he thought, fumbling for the remote. After switching off the TV, he swung his feet down onto the floor and sat hunched over for a long moment. Finally, he stood and looked around the bedroom for his clothes. In the wash of light coming in through the window, he could see them strewn across the floor. He remembered kicking them in various directions when he and “Tash” had giggled their way into the hotel room earlier that night.Tash sure knew the routine. With legs like a sprinter and hair the color of honey, the twenty-something Ukrainian had moved up and down him like a pole dancer while slow- waltzing him into bed. Talanov knew it was a set-up long before his head began to spin from whatever it was someone had slipped him back in the nightclub. Even so, he didn’t care. He had quit caring long ago.He picked up his underwear from a tangle of covers at the foot of the bed. A remnant of what would never be a memorable night of lovemaking. He could still see Tash jumping from the bed in her hot pink g-string, contemptuous at his inability to “do it.” It was always the same, whether with Tash or any of the other hookers he had picked up over the last few months in an effort to try and forget. But try as he did, he could not get Andrea out of his mind.Memories of that night were still embedded in him like shrapnel. On stage for the award. Waves of applause. Andrea’s sudden urge to lean over and kiss him. Suddenly a shot. An explosion of blood. The brilliant red spatter floating before him like a nightmarish special effect in a movie. And in that split second before his wife hit the stage, Talanov saw movement high on the catwalk. A fleeting shadow making an escape. Then came the shrieks. People scattering. Andrea’s fingers desperately reaching out for him while she lay quivering in a spreading pool of red.In all his years with the KGB, Talanov had never felt panic.But he felt it then. Diving to her side, he placed his hands over the gaping holes in her neck. He screamed for help while Andrea’s life continued to squirt through his fingers. He looked down and saw Andrea’s eyes smiling up at him. She tried to speak.“Save your strength, help’s on the way,” he instructed, his eyes betraying the confidence he tried to portray.“Love … you,” Andrea whispered as her eyelids sagged closed.“Stay with me!” Talanov shouted as the tears streaked down his cheeks. He screamed again for help.Sitting in the ambulance minutes later, Talanov strained to breathe. But the coils around his chest were crushing, relentless, and cruel. The hope once visible in his eyes had melted into dark puddles of despair. Suddenly, a high-pitched squeal sounded and the paramedics sprang into action. Readings were shouted, drugs were administered, heart massage was commenced. Then came the paddles.“Clear!” one of them shouted an instant before a jolt of electricity convulsed Andrea’s ghostly white body. The high- pitched squeal did not waver. The paddles were charged again. Talanov did not know how many attempts were made to save his wife before she was finally pronounced dead. He did not remember the hospital waiting room or the questions asked by police, or the young female officer who finally drove him home. Numbness was all that he felt as he lay curled up on the side of the bed where Andrea had fallen asleep on countless nights, wrapped in his arms. And numbness was all that he felt now as he stood at the hotel room window, buttoning his shirt.After staring absently at the lights of West Hollywood for several minutes, he looked toward the nightstand for his watch.It was nowhere to be seen. With a sarcastic snort, he walked over and picked up his slacks. A wrinkle of worry then creased his brow. My wallet, he thought. It’s gone. He felt his pockets, then turned a full circle, hoping to see it on the floor. He then dropped down onto all fours and searched under the bed.You little bitch.Jumping up, Talanov yanked on his slacks, pulled on his shoes and stormed out of the room. Outside, he paused on the sidewalk and tried to remember which way he and Tash had come. He looked right and saw a darkened stretch of asphalt lined with apartment blocks and parked cars. Half a block to his left was an intersection with a traffic light. I remember that light, he thought. He ran to the corner and paused. Which way now? Both sides of the boulevard in both directions were lined with cafés and clubs. Think, he told himself. How far had they walked? A few minutes at most was his recollection. That meant the club was not far away. He remembered its green awning, long and narrow. The kind that stretched out over the sidewalk. With bushes on each side. And black walls, half a block wide, like a warehouse.He looked right and saw it, a hundred yards or so on the other side of the street. He waited for a break in the traffic and crossed against the light. When the next wave of cars rushed past, he felt a blast of exhaust fumes.Guarding the front door were two bouncers dressed in black slacks and t-shirts. Flirting with them were several girls in micro skirts. Everyone was laughing. The more muscular bouncer, Gunner, was taller and bald, while the other one, Daz, had a ponytail to the middle of his back. Talanov ignored them and headed straight for the door. Gunner stopped him.“I need to see some ID,” Gunner said. “You’re kidding. I’m over fifty.”“Fifty?” blurted one of the girls named Tracy. “I thought you were, like, thirty-something.” “Shut up,” snarled Gunner, glaring at Tracy. To Talanov:“Do I look like I’m kidding?” “Someone inside has my wallet.”“Not my problem.”Talanov took a calming breath. He was furious. Tash, or whatever her name was, had stolen his wallet and he wanted it back, assuming, of course, that Tash was inside, which was entirely doubtful. “Ten minutes, that’s all I ask,” he said. “I go in. I look around. I get my wallet and leave. If she’s not there, I leave, anyway. You never see me again.”“And I’m telling you that’s not going to happen.”Talanov took another calming breath. This one was not as effective. “I’m not looking for trouble,” he began.“Then get the hell out of here. Or trouble is going to find you.” According to Gunner, the choice was simple. Leave voluntarily or leave forcibly. And it didn’t seem to matter to Gunner which choice Talanov made. For Talanov the choice was like- wise simple. Was his wallet worth a fight? Logic told him to either forget the wallet or try and work things out peacefully.He opted for option number two. After all, Gunner was a big guy. He was also twenty, maybe twenty-five years younger. Besides, what were the odds that Tash was inside? His wallet had had nearly two thousand dollars in it. More than likely, Tash was partying someplace else.Talanov looked at the other bouncer, who was staring at him with unfriendly eyes. The groupies were also watching. Everybody was waiting to see what the old guy was going to do. “Don’t make this worse than it is,” he said. “Ten minutes.Then I’m gone.”There was a long moment of silence, almost like a vacuum. Nobody seemed to breathe. Then Gunner’s arms shot forward, the heels of his hands like battering rams aimed straight for Talanov’s chest. It was a preemptive two-handed blow designed to knock the wind out of Talanov and send him flying into the bushes. A lesson about who was boss.But Gunner had made the mistake of broadcasting his intentions with a number of subliminal signals. Flaring of the nostrils, tightening of the lips, setting of the jaw, the drawing in of a breath and holding it. So when Gunner’s hands shot out, Talanov stepped to the side, grabbed Gunner’s wrist and twisted it down and back. This forced Gunner to compensate by straightening his arm and bending left in an effort to pull away. That allowed Talanov to twist the outstretched arm behind Gunner. He then used Gunner’s momentum to drive him facedown to the sidewalk in one smooth motion. The whole maneuver took less than four seconds.Kneeling on Gunner’s back, Talanov lifted the arm in a direction that could easily pop it from the socket. Gunner cried out and Talanov eased off.“I asked you not to make this worse than it is,” Talanov said, glancing at Gunner then up at Daz. “What’s it going to be?” Daz glared angrily down at Talanov but knew better than to try anything with Gunner’s arms bent backward like that.Talanov raised an eyebrow expectantly. “Ten minutes,” growled Daz. “But if you cause anyone any trouble – and I mean, anyone – I guarantee you won’t be leaving in one piece.”Releasing Gunner’s arm, Talanov glanced at Tracy and stood. And with a hint of a smile, he disappeared inside.“Did you see the way he took Gunner down?” Tracy whispered excitedly to her friends. “Man, he’s like friggin McDangerous! C’mon, let’s go and meet him.”“What is wrong with you, Decker?” a friend responded, giving Tracy a slap on the arm. “You don’t even know that dude. Know anything about him!”“Yeah, but he’s, like, totally hot.”The inside of the nightclub had a high ceiling, exposed truss beams and flexible ductwork, all painted black. On the dance floor, a churning mass of young people gyrated wildly to a deafening blast of music played by a DJ with dreadlocks and sunglasses. Mounted above the dance floor were numerous tracks of colored stage lights that kept time to the music.There’s got to be three or four hundred people out there, thought Talanov, squinting through the noise at the waves of arms bending back and forth. But he had to start somewhere and the dance floor was the logical place.Finding Tash, however, was not his only problem. She also had a partner: the person who’d spiked his drink. He’d been in enough nightclubs to know one should never leave a drink unattended. And he had not. So who had spiked his drink? The waitress? One of the bartenders? Someone watching him from the service area? Whoever it was, it was imperative that he spotted Tash before she or her partner spotted him. Which meant he had to work fast.Threading his way through the crowd, Talanov was grabbed by several laughing girls. Lost in the rhythm of the music, they whirled and swayed enticingly around him while motioning him to join in. Talanov pushed past them and made his way to the end of the bar, where he stationed himself unobtrusively in the slashes of spinning lights. There, he allowed his eyes to systematically comb the dance floor. There were lots of blondes, but none of them was Tash.Suddenly, on the far side of the nightclub, Talanov saw Daz and Gunner enter the club. Daz spoke into a filament mike positioned near his mouth. Within seconds a large man in a suit approached. Standing a full head taller than either of them, the man looked like a Sumo wrestler, with a buzz cut and folds of flesh creasing the back of his neck. The two bouncers spoke to him briefly, then fanned out to begin sifting their way through the crowd.So much for getting ten minutes.To his left was a short flight of steps that led to a mezzanine full of café tables and booths. Talanov waited for a group of young people to climb the stairs and fell in behind them. At the top he stepped to one side and surveyed the room. People were everywhere. At tables, in booths, standing in the aisles. Most were laughing and drinking. Many were sending text messages or talking on their cell phones. Again, lots of blondes but none of them was Tash.Talanov started back down the stairs, then abruptly reversed direction and excused his way to the top. You’re angry and in a hurry. This time, do it right. Thus, calling on skills learned more than thirty years ago at the Balashikha training center near Moscow, former KGB colonel Aleksandr Talanov stood in a darkened corner and methodically double-checked each face in the room. In less than a minute he saw her, seated with a businessman in a darkened booth.“We go to quieter place now, yes?” Tash asked the businessman in broken English. “Get comfortable. Have some fun.” With a seductive smile, she kissed his ear and began stroking his thigh.“I don’t normally do this,” the businessman replied nervously. He was a florid-faced man in his fifties, with fleshy jowls and thinning hair.“Me, too,” Tash replied, scooting closer.“Where are you from, anyway?” the businessman asked, staring into her gothically-shadowed eyes.“Wherever you want,” answered Tash. Her hand suddenly went higher and the businessman’s eyes widened. “Hurry. Finish drink,” she cooed.The businessman was gulping the remainder of his mojito when Talanov slid into the booth. “Zdravstvuy te, Tash,” said Talanov in Ukrainian. Tash’s mouth fell open.“Who are you?” the businessman asked, blinking several times.“I came for my wallet,” answered Talanov, his eyes on Tash.“You know, the one you stole?”The businessman looked at Tash, who shook her head emphatically.“I think you’ve got the wrong table,” the businessman said.“Oh, I’ve got the correct table, all right,” answered Talanov. “Tash here slipped something into my drink a few hours ago. And by the look on her face, I can tell she wasn’t expecting me to wake up anytime soon.”“He is lying, Tom!” cried Tash. “I don’t know who this man is. Or what he is talking about.”“It’s Todd,” muttered the businessman, glancing at his empty glass.“Let me out,” demanded Tash.“Not until you hand over my wallet,” said Talanov.“She said she doesn’t know you,” responded Todd. “Then how did I know her name?”Todd started to respond then looked at Tash with a wrinkle of doubt. “How did he know your name?”Tash replied with a disdainful huff. “I told you, I am model! He see me somewhere.” Todd gave Tash a dubious scowl. “Whatever,” said Tash. “Let me out.”“As soon as I get my wallet,” declared Talanov.“How many times do I have to tell you? I don’t have your stupid wallet.”“Let’s just see about that,” said Talanov, grabbing Tash’s tiny pink leather purse.“Give that back!” cried Tash, lunging for it.Blocking her hand, Talanov opened the purse and turned it upside down. A tube of lipstick, mascara, two condoms, and a folded wad of cash landed on the table.Talanov stared at what was not there.“See, I don’t have wallet,” said Tash, snatching back her purse. “Now, get out of here. Leave me alone.”A petite Asian waitress named Jade came up the stairs with a tray of drinks. She had blue streaks in her hair and wore bright red lipstick. When she saw Talanov, she placed the drinks on a table, ran back down, and pushed her way through the crowd.She found Gunner and grabbed him by the arm.“Not now,” Gunner replied, shaking off her hand while continuing to scan faces in the crowd.“Upstairs. The Russian guy that was here earlier with Tash. He’s back and he’s causing trouble.”Gunner stared at Jade for a moment then touched the micro- phone near his mouth. “On the mezzanine. We’ve got him.”Sliding out of the booth, Todd stood. “I’m calling the police,” he said, fumbling clumsily with his cell phone.“Go for it,” said Talanov. “When they get here, tell them to run a drug test on your glass. Provided you’re still conscious by then.”Tash tried scooting out of the booth. Talanov grabbed her by the wrist.“Hey, wut’re you doing?” said Todd, fumbling his words as much as his phone. “I think you’d bedder leave.”“You’ve got ten, maybe fifteen minutes before you pass out,”said Talanov while Todd wobbled in front of him. “If I were you, I’d get some help.”Todd blinked several times but did not move. “Go!” commanded Talanov.Todd nodded and hurried off.“Okay, where is it?” Talanov asked Tash, turning to face her. Tash folded her arms and looked defiantly away. Talanov grabbed her by the chin and forced her to look at him. “For the last time, where’s my wallet?”Talanov and Tash locked eyes.“Out back. In dumpster,” she said quietly. Talanov let go and settled back in the booth.A long moment of silence passed while Tash rubbed her chin. “I want to go now,” she said.“No driver’s license. No credit cards. No keys.” “What are you talking about?”“You’re carrying no driver’s license, no credit card, and no keys.”“So what? Why do you care?”“That tells me you’re part of something you probably don’t want to be a part of,” Talanov said. “That maybe someone’s holding you against your will. Making you do things against your will.”“I don’t know what you are talking about.” “I think you do.”Tash stared at Talanov for a long moment then looked away. Talanov watched her for a moment. Tash – or whatever her name was – was a pretty girl. A pretty girl with a look of fear in her eyes.“Sorry for getting so rough,” he said.Tash gathered her lipstick and mascara and slid them into her purse. She placed her hand on the cash but paused when she saw Talanov watching her. “Here,” she said, sliding the money toward him. “It is all there. Count, if you wish.”“It was never about the money,” Talanov replied, ignoring the cash and sliding out of the booth.“Then what is this about?”“Her photo. It’s all I’ve got left.”“You do this for picture?” Tash asked incredulously.“I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”The next few seconds were one of those rare moments when time seemed to linger. And in that moment, Tash saw Talanov’s anguish. She remembered the photo – a wedding shot – in a plastic window where a driver’s license should have been. The picture was of Talanov and his bride, happy and smiling, holding flutes of champagne on a beach. Tash studied him more closely and saw desperation and a certain “lostness” reflected in his eyes. Her photo. It’s all I’ve got left. No divorced man thinks that way. My God, she’s dead, you’re in mourning, Tash realized. No wonder you couldn’t do it.By now, Talanov’s thoughts had drifted back to happier times, what few there had been, mainly because he had been unable to love his wife the way she deserved. Transparency and love – qualities that defined a good marriage – were contrary to what had been hammered into him at Balashikha. Love would get you killed. Or worse: those you loved.Then the world changed. But Talanov could not change with it. And just when he was beginning to learn how— Talanov noticed Tash’s eyes widen an instant before the room flipped upside down as he crashed hard on top of a table before tumbling head-over-heels to the floor. Around him, people shouted and ran.For a long moment, Talanov lay stunned and motionless. What the hell just happened? He opened his eyes and saw Gunner standing over him like an angry bull. Gunner grabbed Talanov and pulled him effortlessly to his feet. When Gunner drew back his fist, Talanov closed his eyes. Do what you want. I’m already dead.The blow hit Talanov like a freight train and sent white spots exploding through his brain. He floated limp for an instant, then landed on another table before rolling down onto the floor. In the distance he heard Tash screaming. Talanov groaned and rolled onto his back. His head was pounding and it hurt to breathe. He saw Gunner push an overturned table out of his way and bear down on him, teeth bared, hands like claws, his neck muscles taut and veined. Gunner took a quick half-step and swung his foot at Talanov’s head. Talanov rolled away and Gunner missed “Leave him alone!” cried Tash. She grabbed Gunner and tried to stop him but he brushed her aside and kicked again. Gunner’s kick was comparable to an extra-point kick in a football game. Full-force after a quick hop, aimed straight atTalanov’s head. That meant one foot was in motion while the other foot supported all of his weight. Talanov swung his leg like a scythe and caught Gunner in the back of his ankle. Gunner’s leg flew out from under him and Gunner hit the floor hard. When he did, the crowd of young onlookers cheered.Gunner immediately scrambled to his feet just as a winded Talanov struggled to his, one hand holding his ribs, one hand waving back and forth, an indication that he wanted to stop.“I’m leaving! I got what I wanted!” gasped Talanov.“You’re leaving, but not in one piece,” growled Gunner just as Daz pushed his way through the circle of spectators, many of whom were recording the action with cell phone cameras.“There’s no need for this!” said Talanov, looking back and forth between the two bouncers.“Stop it, Gunner!” yelled Tash. “He got what he wanted. Leave him alone.”“Shut up, you worthless whore!” shouted Gunner. He clamped a meaty hand across Tash’s face and shoved. Tash crashed into a table and back-flipped down onto the floor, where she lay crying, legs sprawled, her short skirt hiked up to her waist. Her blonde hair was tangled and her lipstick was smeared. Her cheeks were streaked with mascara.Talanov saw the crowd laughing as Tash rolled slowly onto her side and looked helplessly over at him. She tried to get up but Gunner pushed her back down and kicked her. Tash tried crawling away but Gunner grabbed her by the hair.Five minutes ago, Talanov would have been happy to let Tash get what was coming to her. She had drugged and rolled him. She had taken the only item that meant anything to him. She had left him passed out in a hotel room in order to fleece some other guy. And now, here she was, trying to defend him. A thieving whore. Why couldn’t she have left well-enough alone?Gunner lifted Tash to her feet by the hair and drew back a fist just as Talanov slammed one of the aluminum café chairs on the floor. Gunner paused when he heard the noise and saw Talanov fall into the chair. With his head lowered, Talanov sat motionless against the pulsating reflections of light keeping time with the music. Surprised by this apparent act of surrender, Gunner let go of Tash and looked over at Daz. An instant later, they both rushed forward.Sensing their decision to attack milliseconds before any movement occurred, Talanov grabbed the leg of his chair and sprang left, slinging it straight at Daz, who stumbled backward while trying to wrestle it away from his face. Continuing his pivot, Talanov sank a roundhouse kick into Gunner’s kidney. With a bellow, Gunner stumbled forward. Talanov stepped behind him, seized Gunner by the back of the neck and hammered his forehead onto a table to the crazed delight of the crowd. He then whirled to face Daz while Gunner slid limp to the floor.Daz picked up a chair and threw it. Talanov grabbed one of the café tables and used it to deflect the chair. Daz hurled another chair, then another, but Talanov used the lightweight table like a shield and sent each of them tumbling to the floor. Daz turned to flee but was stopped by the wall of spectators. Cut off, he turned and charged. Talanov blocked several wild punches, stepped inside and smashed Daz in the jaw with an elbow. He then grabbed Daz by the shirt, twisted inward and flipped him over his shoulder. When Daz landed on his stomach, Talanov grabbed him by the ponytail and slammed his face on the floor. “I told you not to make this worse than it is,” Talanov said, leaning close.With his nose dripping blood, Daz swallowed and coughed. Talanov leaned closer. “So I’ll ask you one more time. Are you ready to call this off?”Daz coughed again.“Are you?” Talanov demanded.With his attention focused on Daz, Talanov did not see the big Sumo move in from behind. He did not hear the collective gasps as Sumo’s hand came down like an axe. All he felt was an explosion of pain. An instant later, everything went black.
About the Author
James Houston Turner is the bestselling author of the Aleksandr Talanov thriller series, as well as numerous other books and articles. Talanov the fictional character was inspired by the actual KGB agent who once leaked word out of Moscow that James was on a KGB watch-list for his smuggling activities behind the old Iron Curtain. James Houston Turner’s debut thriller, Department Thirteen, was voted “Best Thriller” by USA Book News, after which it won gold medals in the Independent Publisher (“IPPY”) Book Awards and the Indie Book Awards. His novel, Greco’s Game, has just been optioned for film. A cancer survivor of more than twenty-five years, he holds a bachelor’s degree from Baker University and a master’s degree from the University of Houston (Clear Lake). After twenty years in Australia, he and his wife, Wendy, author of The Recipe Gal Cookbook, now live in Austin, Texas.
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Surviving Wilder by Cassie Graham
Title: Surviving Wilder
Series: The Wild #2Author: Cassie GrahamGenre: Paranormal Romance
Cover Design: Sprinkles On Top StudiosRelease Date: November 9, 2017
Blurb
Candy Sawyer has decided to put her Strix obligations on hold in order to find herself – whatever that means. After years of being a dream-jumping white-witch, she hits the road with two friends seeking answers in the unknown. When she stumbles upon a small town in northern Arizona, she discovers something she wasn’t quite ready to deal with.
Sherwood ‘Wood’ Wilder is a broody, gorgeous, supernatural Pursuer who loves to grate Candy’s nerves. Some wouldn’t even call them friends – Candy, especially. So, when she runs into him while on a case, she doesn’t expect to have any sort of feelings for him other than aggravation.
Against her better judgment, Candy finds herself on a dangerous mission alongside Wood to unlock the secrets tormenting the town.
Their relationship becomes a thrilling game of cat and mouse, and soon, the lines they firmly put in place become blurred beyond recognition.
They’ve unknowingly jumped off a ledge. The question is, will their parachutes open before they hit the soil below?
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A Moscato aficionado, and chocolate mistress, Cassie Graham is a born and raised Arizona girl. Her sass knows no bounds and almost always has something kind to say, no matter the situation. She runs a platform of love and strives to bring those attributes out in every book she writes.
Cassie studied English and literature in college and has an intense love for fairytales. Go figure. Though she loves a good fairytale, she promises to always put her characters through the wringer for that happy ending. She started writing early in her high school career after an English teacher forced her to write in a journal. Four years and thirty-something notebooks full of words later, she found her passion.
Being a hopeless romantic, she found her love for romance after she fell in love at eighteen. Stories became a lot easier to write after she found her soulmate. Love exists and she's blessed enough to live it every day.
If Cassie isn't shoulder-deep in writing a version of a fairytale, you can find her front porch sitting with her husband and daughter, eating all the bread, gossiping with her best friends, visiting Disneyland, supporting strong women, listening to cheesy music and reading great books by amazing people. She loves binge watching Supernatural, drooling over Dean, Sam and Cas, and going to conventions. She also enjoys spreading love any chance she can. So, if you run into her, give her a hug or a high-five. She guarantees they're magic.
Author of Unable to Resist, Anyone But Him, The Truth of a Liar, Enchanting Wilder, and Who Needs Air.
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MR. TAKEN by DANICA WINTERS
Mr. Taken by Danica Winters Series: Mystery Christmas, #3Genre: Romantic SuspensePaperback Release Date: October 17, 2017
Digital Release Date: November 1, 2017
In Mystery, Montana, a white-hot hunk fights fire with passion…
Though he's ridiculously handsome and notoriously funny, it's Colter Fitzgerald's firefighting skills that are most needed by Whitney Barstow—at first. She's been traumatized by fire and terrified that the arsonist sabotaging Dunrovin Ranch is a madman from her past. She's also fearful that harm will come to any man she loves, so denies her attraction to Colter. Then why is she jealous of another woman's hands all over him?
On the eve of the ranch's Christmas festival, Colter wants no one but Whitney, body, soul and darkest secrets. But there's still an arsonist to stop…before what makes the season bright is Dunrovin in flames.
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Book 1: Ms. Calculation
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Book 2: Mr. Serious
Amazon ~ Barnes & Noble ~ iBooks ~ Kobo ~ GoogleWalmart ~ Harlequin ~ Universal Book LinkGoodreadsBook 4: Ms. DemeanorAvailable November 21 - Pre-Order Now!
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Danica Winters is a Nielsen BookScan and an Amazon bestselling author who has won multiple awards for writing books that grip readers with their ability to drive emotion through suspense and occasionally a touch of magic. Most recently, Danica was the winner of the Paranormal Romance Guild’s Paranormal Romantic Suspense Book of the Year Award and Chanticleer Media’s Paranormal Book of the Year for her novel Montana Mustangs.When she’s not working, she can be found in the wilds of Montana testing her patience while she tries to understand the allure of various crafts (quilting, pottery, and painting are not her thing). She always believes the cup is neither half full nor half empty, but it better be filled with wine.
Danica Winters is represented by Jill Marsal of the Marsal Lyon Literary Agency, LLC.
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Drive by Jacob Chance
Title: DriveAuthor: Jacob ChanceGenre: Sports Romance/New Adult StandaloneCover Design: Sybil Wilson, PopKitty Design
Release Date: December 1, 2017
Blurb
Kissing a complete stranger shouldn’t be a life altering experience, but with him it was. One look into his mischievous hazel eyes and our lips were colliding without a second thought.
Now, months later, not only do I know his name, we’ve also become friends. Good friends. The kind of friends that kiss and cuddle together, all night long. The kind of friends that fantasize about being horizontal or vertical...and very much naked.
I’d never been attracted to the football playing jocks, but Nick’s different. When he’s not being a professional flirt, he’s undeniably sweet and funny. For every excuse my mind comes up with to keep my distance, my body finds two reasons to give him a chance.
Can he make the final drive into my heart or will I keep him in the friend zone?
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Author Bio
Jacob Chance grew up in New England. He’s a martial artist, a football fan, a practical joker and junk food lover.
An author of romantic suspense and sports romance, he plans to write many more sexy, suspenseful stories.
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