Twinkle (Sugandha) Varshney's Blog, page 335

Three-Legged Horse by Russ Hall

Three-Legged Horse by Russ Hall Genre: Western/Coming of AgeRelease Date: October 21, 2015

Reviewers Wanted!Bloggers and Readers - We are looking for anyone interested in reading and leaving an honest review of Three-Legged Horse. If you are interested, please fill out this form and we will send you a review copy:  http://bit.ly/SURTThreeLeggedHorse

Justin Bodean, 15, heads out into the untamed Texas of the mid-1870s with his father to seek a hidden stash of Civil War gold as they travel to see Aunt Sara. They get more adventure than they bargain for when bandits attack their stagecoach. Facing outlaws, renegade Comanche warriors, and landing right in the middle of a cattleman’s feud tests the courage Justin knew would be expected of him out in the west. One travel companion, a writer of dime novels, has come out this way to gather gritty details for his writing. Two others cast in his lot are a cowhand as well as a preacher who wears a gun. They find themselves in a world of Rangers, greedy ranchers, and all-in-all a place where not everything is what it seems . . . except the flying bullets. It’s a far tougher place than Justin has ever been, and Lucas the cowhand tells Justin that he has as much chance of making it out here as a three-legged horse.



He half dozed as he lay there, a patina of sweat forming on his forehead. His wounds throbbed, but they seemed to be scabbing over in their own healing way if he didn’t move. After what seemed hours, he heard approaching sounds. Low hoof clicks tapped the ground, coming his way. At first he thought they were far away, then he realized they weren’t the sounds of a shod horse. A Comanche was coming his way. He stayed as still as he could. Hardly breathed at all. He could see them now, from hoof to pastern, the legs of the paint horse were covered with something. Now, so close he thought he could reach out to them. . .




Russ Hall lives by a lake in Texas Hill Country near Austin. He has been an editor for major publishing companies, ranging from Harper & Row (now HarperCollins), Simon & Schuster, to Pearson. A writer of westerns, mysteries, thrillers, poetry, and nonfiction books, he has had more than twenty books published, as well as numerous short stories and articles. In 1996 he won the Nancy Pickard Mystery Fiction Award for short fiction. In 2011 he was awarded Sage Award, by The Barbara Burnett Smith Mentoring Authors Foundation—an award for the mentoring author who demonstrates an outstanding spirit of service in mentoring, sharing and leading others in the mystery writing community. In 2014 he won First Place in the Austin International Poetry Festival. The Writers' League of Texas awarded To Hell and Gone in Texas its 2015 “Fiction Discovery Prize”




a Rafflecopter giveaway

Bindings by Kate Roth

February 1stAmazon http://amzn.to/1R9z6CGiBooks https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id1071740209Kobo https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/bindings Bindings first chapter preview link http://www.katerothwrites.com/chapter-one.html
 
Ashamed of the woman she allowed herself to become, Sloane Montgomery sets out to repair the self-inflicted damage done to her life. A new town holds her new beginning and when Leo Calloway arrives everything changes.Captivated by Leo and his dark desires, Sloane wonders if her fascination with his dominance goes deeper than fantasy. Has she been seeking punishment to atone for the sins of her past all along? Though Leo’s brutal lust is what first enthralls her, the bonds of trust they form could have the power to heal her.When the ties to her former life threaten to take hold of her again, the passion binding her to Leo may be the key to her ultimate release.


FB reader group, Kate Roth's NSFW Zone.I'll be hosting a party in there 10-6pm EST on Feb. 1st Join Kate Here


BUY LINKSAmazon http://amzn.to/1R9z6CGiBooks https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id1071740209Kobo https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/bindings Published since 2012, Kate Roth is addicted to all things romance. Her passion for love stories, both traditional and unconventional, has led her to write in various sub-genres of romance including New Adult, Paranormal and Erotica. Kate is inspired by everything from music to the real-life romance tales she's heard through her years as a professional hair stylist.One thing is certain, Kate Roth writes steamy connections, sassy dialogue, and strong heroines & heroes.Kate spends her time away from the keyboard with her insta-love husband, Adam and their faithful pound puppy, Sampson.
Mailing list sign up: http://eepurl.com/P_655




Connect With Kate Email  ~ Website ~ Facebook ~ Twitter ~ Goodreads ~ Amazon

Hosted by:

Helpless by AJ Adams

Helpless by AJ Adams
Price $3.99
128,000 words
A self-standing complete novel
First in the Belial Disciples MC seriesBuy LinksAmazon USAmazon UK
Fracas Macintyre has been in and out of trouble all her life but this time it’s worse than ever. In debt to a loan shark, she’s caught up in a war between the Alistairs, nicknamed The Irish Mob, and Belial’s Disciples, England’s nastiest MC. Kidnapped and at the mercy of Caden Winslow, Fracas is convinced that life is going to get very nasty indeed.Caden Winslow is an ex soldier used to taking care of business. When an Alistair henchman steals his beloved Busa, he simply takes one of theirs hostage and expects a simple trade will solve the problem. However, Caden is about to be pulled into a war.Note: Helpless is a dark romance and there’s lots of violence, but it’s also a love story. It’s not a “lock her up and rape her till she loves him” plot so if you’re not sure, give it a go.I opened the boot, and at the sight of the girl, Crush began grinning. “Hey, is that for me, too?”“You can go fuck yourself!” The little tart blew up instantly. “You evil bastard, let me go!”“Whoo! I like her!”Crush is a man who enjoys performing to the stereotypical outlaw biker image. This time I could see he meant it, and so did the girl. She opened her mouth, spotted Crush’s cut and went very quiet.“You can’t have her. She’s my collateral.” I pulled her towards me, snapped through her ankle ties with the box cutter and threw her over my shoulder. She muttered furiously, but she’d stopped fighting. I could feel her raise her head and look over the crowd of gathering Disciples. She shivered and went limp. I guess she didn’t like the look of the party.Crush was still curious. “Collateral for what?”“Alistair’s man took my Busa.”“You’re shitting me!”

Add Helpless to your TBR:GoodreadsAJ Adams is a Scottish-Dutch author currently living in Malaysia. In her regular life she is a columnist and feature writer. She works from home, where she is closely snoopervised by cats, Target and Guido.Stalker links:GoodreadsFacebookTwitterPinterest

Worst Week Ever by Liza O'Connor

WORST WEEK EVERAUTHOR: Liza O’ConnorGENRE:  Humorous RomanceSERIES: A Long Road to Love What do you get when you put a hardworking, can-do middle-class young woman together with an egoistical, outrageous, billionaire boss, then throw in the worst week of disasters imaginable?Book 1 of the 5 book series A Long Road to Love, named Worst Week Ever.Trent Lancaster spends one month without his Executive Assistant (or as his drivers refers to Carrie: 'Trent's brain, left hand, and right hand'). He's had a miserable month without her at his side and to ensure it never happens again, he intends to marry this brilliant beauty. Only given all the times he's threatened to fire her, he's not sure she even likes him. However, the future of his company and his happiness depend upon him succeeding, so Trent begins a slow one week seduction that happens to coincide with Carrie Hanson's Worst Week Ever when everything that can go wrong does so in hilarious form. (Hilarious to the reader, Carrie is not having much fun this week.) Trent’s focus returned to Carrie as he slipped his left arm around the back of the seat while leaning closer, invading the little space she had. Her heart quickened. God, she loved his scent. It made her feel— She shook her head. Get a grip! He’s your boss and he wants to see a Broadway show! “Here’s the review blurbs for each.”He leaned in even closer, so his chest pressed against her arm. Her face warmed. Between her near death experience and his cologne, her professional demeanor struggled. You can do this. He’s your boss and that’s all. She breathed in deep, in an attempt to steady her nerves. Unfortunately, she’d fail to account for the effects of a lungful of Trent’s wonderful scent. God, he's intoxicating. She focused on the reviews, needing to distract herself from his cologne. She smiled as she read the comments for Tall and Tiny. It sounded so good. She wished she had the time and money to see it. Given Trent began reading before her, he should have finished and made his decision by now. She steeled herself and looked up at him. His gaze focused on her instead of the screen.“Do you want to hold my iPad?” Carrie knew he hated when people treated him like a child.A faint smile touched his lips. “No, let’s do the last one.”“Tall and Tiny?”He shrugged.She tilted her head. “If you don’t even know the name of the show, why do you want to see it?”He smiled as if he’d just done something very clever. “Because you do. I could see it in your face.”Why would what she liked matter? Then a possible explanation came to her. “Do you want me to go with you?”He gently tugged on a strand of her hair. “Hey, we just went through war together. We both need a laugh.”His unexpected generosity shocked her. She felt like the egoistical sun had finally noticed inconsequential Pluto still working hard to race around it. AMAZON ~ GOODREADS
OH STUPID HEART ~ COMING TO REASON ~ CLIMBING OUT OF HELL ~ THE HARDEST LOVE Liza O’Connor lives in Denville, NJ with her dog Jess. They hike in fabulous woods every day, rain or shine, sleet or snow. Having an adventurous nature, she learned to fly small Cessnas in NJ, hang-glide in New Zealand, kayak in Pennsylvania, ski in New York, scuba dive with great white sharks in Australia, dig up dinosaur bones in Montana, sky dive in Indiana, and raft a class four river in Tasmania. She’s an avid gardener, amateur photographer, and dabbler in watercolors and graphic arts. Yet through her entire life, her first love has and always will be writing novels. She uses all her life experiences to create interesting characters, set them loose, and scribe what happens.          BLOGGER PARTICIPATION LIST FOR THIS TOUR

Two to Wrangle By Victoria Vane

☆••*´¨`*•.☆••PRE-ORDER NOW ☆••*´¨`*•.☆•• #ComingSoon Two to Wrangle @authorvictoriav #1click #romance http://amzn.to/1PNFPCe A Country Boy and a City Girl, can they make it?
Amazon US: http://amzn.to/1PNFPCeBarnes & Noble: http://bit.ly/1KjiEx2 Kobo: http://bit.ly/1KjiO7CiBooks: http://apple.co/1KjiVQzA Country Boy Maybe having a hot and heavy affair with the boss’s daughter wasn’t the smartest move. But country boy Ty Morgan didn’t regret a moment with city girl Monica Brandt…until she left Las Vegas to return to her life in New York. When devastating news sends her running back, Ty can’t help but open his arms. His heart, however, is another matter. And A City Girl Now that Ty has what he’s always wanted—controlling interest in Hotel Rodeo—Monica is certain their time together is at an end. Then Ty asks her to come on board as a partner. Maybe it’s just her money he needs, but the chance to stick close to the sexy wrangler sure could make work a whole lot more interesting. Get Ready To Tango Their partnership doesn’t come without a heap of problems. The two can’t agree on anything—except their iron-hot attraction. As the hotel’s Grand Opening approaches, the truth is all too clear: Ty and Monica must find a way to mix business with pleasure if they have any shot at dancing off into the sunset together…

Schemes Gone Amiss by Collette Cameron

Schemes Gone Amiss by Collette Cameron Series: Conundrums of the Misses Culpepper, Book 2Genre: Historical RomanceRelease Date: February 1, 2016


Intrepid and outspoken, Blythe Culpepper is dragged against her will to London for a Season. To her dismay, her guardian enlists the devilishly attractive Lord Leventhorpe, the one man she detests, to assist with her Come Out. Since their first encounter, hostile looks and cutting retorts have abounded whenever they meet, yet she cannot deny the way her body reacts when he’s near. So perhaps it’s no surprise that upon overhearing another woman scheming to entrap Tristan into marriage, Blythe risks all to warn him.

Haunted by childhood trauma, Tristan, the austere and controlled Marquis of Leventhorpe, usually avoids social gatherings. So why, against his better judgement, does he agree to aid his closet friend in presenting the Culpeppers to the ton? Might it be because one Culpepper stirs more than his interest? Blythe taxes him to his limits with her sharp wit and even sharper tongue. Yet, he cannot deny the beauty fascinates him.

However, when an old enemy comes calling, using Blythe to settle old scores, Tristan must decide if protecting his honor is more important than winning the heart of the woman he has come to love.



Schemes Gone Amiss First Kiss Scene
“You’ve a dab of dirt smearing your cheek, just there.” Lord Leventhorpe indicated her cheek with a long finger.Covered in dog hair, mud, and grass. Perfectly lovely.Blythe wiped her face. “Did I get it?”“No. You smeared the blob more.” He chuckled and moved his fingers over his cheek, in imitation of where her smudge was. “You look rather like an adorable ragamuffin who’s been making mud pies.”Blythe rubbed the spot again then examined her gloves. Earth marred the fingertips. Whether from wiping her face or from her tumbles in the park, she didn’t know. Probably ruined her gloves too. “Better?”“No. Allow me.” He swiftly removed his black leather glove. “Lean my way a mite.”Blythe complied, and he bent and brushed his thumb along her cheek a couple of times.Sensation darted outward, raising the flesh along her shoulders and arms.The shards of silver in his gaze glittered as he stared into her eyes, and his touch lingered a fraction longer than entirely necessary. “You have the loveliest eyes and the most perfect mouth I’ve ever seen.”Such was the wonder in his voice, he almost seemed to speak to himself.Blythe wet her lips, gone abruptly dry as autumn leaves.His gaze riveted upon her mouth, tension tightened his lips.He had the most beautifully sculpted mouth she’d ever noticed, and that included the Greek gods from last night’s ball. Were Lord Leventhorpe’s as warm and firm and tasty as they appeared?What the blazes did Mr. Burlington’s lips look like?Did he have lips?He must, of course.A wheel sank into a hole with bone-jarring force, abruptly interrupting Blythe’s mental rambling and pitching her and Lord Leventhorpe headfirst. His hat flew from his head as he tumbled from his seat onto his knees and reflexively wrapped his arms around her to keep her from plunging to the floor.Their faces mere inches apart, Blythe couldn’t haul her gaze from the glinting specks in Lord Leventhorpe’s eyes. His focus sank to her lips, and his enlarged pupils revealed his arousal.Would he kiss her?Did she want him to?Illogically, yes.Breath suspended, she remained perfectly motionless. Waiting.Lowering his head, he tightened his embrace an instant before his lips whispered across hers.A brilliant light burst behind her eyes, and every bone in her body turned molten. She clutched his lapels, certain if she let go, she’d slither to the floor.He ran his tongue along the seam of her lips, and, sighing, she readily capitulated and parted her mouth, eager to taste more of him.




Book One: Wagers Gone Awry


Bestselling, award-winning author, Collette Cameron, has a BS in Liberal Studies and a Master's in Teaching. Author of the  Castle Brides  Series.  Highland Heather Romancing a Scot  Series, and  Conundrums of the Misses Culpepper  Series, Collette writes Regency and Scottish historicals and makes her home in the Pacific Northwest with her husband and five mini-dachshunds. Mother to three and a self-proclaimed Cadbury Chocolate chocoholic, Collette loves a good joke, inspirational quotes, flowers, trivia, and all things shabby chic and cobalt blue. You'll always find dogs, birds, quirky—sometimes naughty—humor, and a dash of inspiration in her novels.

Her motto for life? You can’t have too much chocolate, too many hugs, or too many flowers or books.

She’s thinking about adding shoes to that list.


Triberr
Join Collette's Street Team Collette's Chéris  is the official street team for Collette Cameron. Be the first to hear good news, take a peek at works in progress, and have the opportunity to sign up to review Collette’s book. She offers random giveaways to street team members who regularly support her and promote her books.
Interested? Then click the banner to join!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

CYBER-CRIME SERIES by ANGELA FORD

CYBER-CRIME SERIES by ANGELA FORDAwesome Review by Romance Reviews Magazine!This is an American FBI based romantic suspense. We're given a female agent - a complex stalker, and a classic covert romance budding between fellow agents. Thankfully that's not all the author has given the reader. The heroine, Jess, has emotional problems linked to her past. Her love interest, Tom, similarly has a past he would rather forget. Neither reveals their covert feelings for one another, and I rather liked the way the author enlightens the reader to their innermost thoughts. This could easily have turned into a tired old cliché plot of agents shooting their way through crisis after crisis, then falling in love and straight off to bed. Ms Ford, though, luckily spins a little magic into her story with a dead agent brought back to life. And so the plot thickens. But who is watching Jess besides a dead agent, and who is stalking her? The more Jess puzzles over gathered evidence the more she fears the outcome. What is worse, the killer knows her name. Ordered off the case, Jess retreats to a safe haven. Jess is far from safe. Tom is far from safe. And the hero of the day is far from the expected hero. Well done Ms Ford for putting a jolly good twist in this tale. As a debut novelist I sense Ms Ford's writing will grow with each new book she undertakes to write.CLOSURE (Book 1) An elite FBI task force tracks online predators while they hunt their prey. A series of murders in Presario Heights has forced Special Agent Jessica Resario to follow her gut instinct to save the next victim. Supervisory Special Agent Tom Erickson removes her from the case. The only place to escape the danger is her family beach home. She hadn’t been there since her parents were murdered. The level of intensity climbs higher with her discovery of postcards marked “I Crave You”. Old ghosts, secrets, imminent threats and an inevitable attraction to Tom send her on an emotional roller coaster. If that wasn’t enough, she opens the door to a man she thought was dead. Tom is stabbed and his case files go missing…high emotions put Jess at the killer’s mercy.
Jess opened the file that held copies of the postcards. They were simple postcards of scenic views which could be found in any shop in the Vineyard. The backs of the postcards showed Jess’s name printed very neatly, and beside it was written, “I Crave You.” All three cards had the same quote, her name, no address and no postage stamp. They would have been placed under the door in person. A cold chill ran up her spine. It was definitely not a prank from one of her friends; they had more class than that! She couldn’t recall anyone around her who was shy or might have a crush on her. Sandy and Billy, her closest summer friends, would definitely have told her if someone had a crush on her. She never even dated anyone from the village in the summers. It was a small village and everyone around her age had gone steady since they were about ten years old. There was a boy she had dated in Washington her senior year, but it was never serious. They only dated for a few months before graduation and Jess ended it before she left for the beach home. He wanted to continue their relationship, but she was headed west and he was attending college in the east. The three words, “I Crave You,” struck a nerve. Where had she heard those words? Jess couldn’t recollect if the words were used in the existing case, or if they were from her past. Amazon Kindle ~ Amazon Paperback ~ Goodreads FORBIDDEN (Book 2) In this sequel to Closure, Agent Jessica Resario continues to deliver spine-chilling seminars about internet predators. A seminar one night introduces her to the Bennetts’. They believe their teenage daughter has a stalker and is in danger. One desperate man forbids Jess to love another man. Another desperate man preys on a naïve teen. Both put Jess back in the line of fire and once again her life is put into the hands of a serial killer. Startled from her thoughts, Jess turned and saw Tom in the doorway with a concerned look on his face. He walked closer to her and set a cup of tea on her desk. “I thought you might need this.” “Thanks Tom. You always know what I need. I love you so much.” She smiled and reached for his hand. Just his presence in the room warmed her from the cold chill she’d felt.“I love you too.” He leaned down and kissed the top of her head. “Now spill it Jess. I know that look.” She laughed at his remark. He knows me so well.“I feel like I’m reading about Trevor stalking me. This girl is in trouble, Tom. She’s being stalked. I feel it in my gut.” Jess took a sip of her tea. The warmth and sweetness of that Earl Grey Cream was exactly what she needed to calm her.“That look worries the heck out of me. But I learned a long time ago I can’t stop you.” Tom picked up her phone from the desk and handed it to her. “Call Mr. Bennett”“At this time of the night?” Jess looked at her watch.“If he’s as concerned as you believe, Jess, he’ll be awake.” Tom kissed her forehead and smiled. Amazon Kindle ~ Amazon Paperback ~ Amazon Audible ~ Goodreads OBSESSED (Book 3) The FBI cybercrime series continues after Jess shoots Trevor Marshall in her kitchen. The man responsible for three murdered teens in the Bay area, her parents and her adopted daughter’s parents. Ten years before he stalked her without her knowledge. Her father kept it from her to protect her and sent her to the west coast for college. Marshall murdered her parents in his attempt to find her. Ten years later he’s successful but Jess is a compelled FBI profiler who hunts internet predators.SSA Jessica Resario thought her life had settled; now there’s more at stake. She stepped down as the team’s leader to be with her family and SA Mike Turner is promoted. A postcard shows up on her doorstep with the same three words used by Marshall - I Crave You. Mike promises to discover how it was leaked from the sealed case. When another postcard turns up at Jess’s beach house, Mike takes the team to the east coast. Only half the team makes it to the beach house. Old ghosts, secrets and with more at stake; Jess is determined to end this obsession and protect her family. Jess looked in that direction and something caught her attention. She tip-toed toward the door and discovered a postcard on the floor just inside the front door. Memories of the postcards crossed her mind as she bent down to pick it up. Her hand trembled as she read her name on the front of the post card. She turned it over slowly. A tear formed and hit her cheek as she read the words written on it. I Crave You.The sudden jolt of shock that hit her at the front door led her to scream Tom’s name. The postcard fell from her hand. Tom came running from the bedroom. Jess’s scream woke everyone and they all met at the front door. Jess couldn’t speak but pointed to the welcome mat where the postcard lay. Those three words “I Crave You” could be read as plain as day. Tom reached for the postcard with horror; one of Vineyard Haven addressed to Jess with those three words just like the ones she’d received in the past. Amazon Kindle ~ Amazon Paperback ~ Goodreads Angela Ford originates from Nova Scotia…Canada’s Ocean Playground! Her love of the ocean and sunsets are always in her heart and give her inspiration. Her love for words keeps her turning the page. She is never without a book, whether she’s reading or writing. Now residing in Ontario, Angela works in Finance – numbers by day – words by night. Her dedication to volunteer and involvement with cyber safety seminars gave her an Award of Distinction and sparked the idea for her first book Closure – suspense with a dash of romance that hit the best- selling Action/Adventure and Women’s Fiction. Angela continued this FBI suspense with Forbidden and will deliver the final of the series in 2015. She also writes contemporary romance, sometimes sweet…sometimes spicy and sometimes with a dash of suspense. Unforgettable Kiss delivers a spicy romance with a dash of suspense. Blind Tasting of The Love List series and The Christmas Wreath of the Forever Christmas series are sweet reads. 2015 kicked off with a new Romantic Suspense Surrender. Between two jobs, being a mom with a home always filled with young adults and rather interesting stories; she is lucky to have one very patient and understanding man. But it is the furry family members who rule the house – a Puggle (Pug/Beagle), a new Chug puppy (Pug/Chihuahua) and two loveable cats. Every possible quiet moment she finds, she treasures and just writes about the moments to come. Angela is an avid reader of romance, a member of the RWA, KOD (Kiss of Death – Suspense Chapter) and Mississauga Writers Group. You can follow her at BTGN www.bookstogonow.com or visit her website/blog Romantic Escapes at http://www.angelafordauthor.com to connect with her on her social network sites. She loves to hear from her readers – they keep her smiling!AMAZON ✯ WEBSITE ✯ FACEBOOK ✯ GOODREADS ✯ LINKEDIN ✯ TWITTER ✯ PINTEREST ✯ LINKEDIN ✯ BOOKS TO GO NOW ✯ TANYA WATT'S LUV ME A BOOK BLOGGER PARTICIPATION LIST FOR THIS TOUR 

Ravaged River by Lindsay Cross

Release of the RAVAGED RIVER BOOK 6 IN THE MEN OF MERCY SERIES
AUTHOR: Lindsay CrossCOVER DESIGNER: Kim KillionEDITOR: Angela PolidoroOFFICIAL GENRE: Romantic Suspense, Military (hot heat level)PUBLICATION DATE: January 30, 2016 Special forces operative Hoyt Crowe wasn't just damaged… he was broken. After suffering brutal torture in captivity, his once lively spirit is shattered. Now his greatest adversary isn’t some unknown terrorist in a foreign country, it’s himself.Hayden James watched Hoyt slide into a private purgatory of post-traumatic stress disorder, taking her heart with him. No longer warm and loving, he is cold. Hardened. A shell of his former self.When an old enemy threatens Hayden’s life, Hoyt must find the strength to slay his inner demons or lose the woman he loves forever.
Ravaged River: Men of Mercy Excerpt By Lindsay Cross Hoyt Crowe tilted back the bottle of whiskey as he faced his reflection in the bedroom mirror. The man staring back was so poisonous he destroyed everything around him. Friends. Family. And, fucking worst of all, himself. Hoyt didn’t deserve to be alive. Not anymore. A car door slammed outside and he jerked, almost dropping the bottle. Goddammit. His control was gone. Destroyed. How could he protect his team if he flinched at every little sound? Sweat drenched his body. Hoyt lifted the bottle for another drink, spilled some liquor on his chin. His once sniper-steady hand shook like a new recruit on his first mission. Laughter erupted over the music from the living room, thrusting Hoyt back to that shack in the woods on Crowe Mountain. Three months ago, he and Jared had taken a trip to their past and returned to their former home--the place they'd fled as kids. Of all the mistakes he'd made in life, it was the one he regretted most. He'd been captured and tortured by his cousin and his cousin's girlfriend, who'd mistakenly thought he could give them the deed to the mountain. They'd trussed him up and the bitch had taken a flaying knife to his skin. He'd never forget the look of glee in her eyes as she sliced into him. Her shrill, screeching laugh. The same sound that was streaming in from the living room, except this time it was lacking the edge of madness. And just like that untrained newbie would have done, he’d blubbered and begged for his life. He took another swig, praying the fire from the whiskey would burn through his shattered nerves, and spilled more on his shirt. He ripped it off and threw it in the corner. Bile clawed up his throat, lacerating him from the inside out. I can’t even take a damn drink without shaking. His reflection was a mockery of what it had once been. Sliced and diced – he could write the manual. The deepest wound was on his face. The bitch had made sure he’d remember her every time he looked in a mirror. Now his lips pulled in a sideways smile even when he frowned. Not one smooth inch left. How could Hayden look at him, let alone want to be with him? She didn’t deserve to be tied to this. I am a weak, disfigured monster. Of course, monsters weren’t afraid of the dark, so he couldn’t even call himself that. Hoyt’s twisted lips pulled into a smile that didn’t reach his pale blue eyes. A knock sounded at the door. Hoyt ignored it. He wasn’t ready to face anyone. “Hoyt, it’s Hunter. I need to talk to you.” Christ. Hayden’s brother and his team leader wanted to talk to him in private. Hunter James wasn’t the type of man who was easily ignored. Hoyt staggered over to the rich oak dresser against the far wall. The mirror resting on it was as big as the dresser. There was no escape from his ruined reflection. “Open the damn door or I’ll kick it in.” Hunter’s voice rose over the pulsing music. Open your mouth and answer him. “Give me a minute.” Hoyt set the bottle down for long enough to rip a shirt from the drawer and yank it over his head. He glanced down at the Grateful Dead logo on the front of the tee. At least it fit him. He picked up the bottle and stalked to the wood door, the rustic hardwood creaking beneath his bare feet, and jerked it open. “What do you want?” “Jesus.” Hunter towered over Hoyt by at least three inches, and his black hair was cut short, military style. “You stink of alcohol.” Hoyt lifted the bottle in salute and took another chug. “Maybe this is why.” “What are you doing? Your house is packed full of people waiting to see you.” “I didn’t want them to come.” Hunter crowded into Hoyt’s room and shut the door behind him. The dark look on his face suited his nickname—the Grim Reaper—but Hoyt wasn’t afraid of him. No, his fears were all wrapped around that cabin in Crowe Mountain. “Why are you here? My big brother send you to pull me out of my cave? He can’t stomach looking at me anymore.” Hoyt let his face fall into the sneer that had become his signature look, the one that always sent Jared away. It could make milk curdle. “Your brother would kick my ass if he knew I was back here. He’s got some misconceived notion that he has to protect you.” Hunter crossed his arms and the veins on his arms popped across his massive muscles. “But I’ve got the feeling he might need protection from you, not for you.” Hoyt snarled and bared his teeth, feeling every inch the feral animal he’d become. “I’d never hurt my brother.” “Just like you’d never hurt my sister? Look at yourself.” Hunter advanced, prowling closer and closer, menace pouring off him in waves. “I look at myself every damn day.” Heat radiated outward from his chest, but his hands were shaking. He took another slug of the cheap rotgut, needing the numbness only oblivion could bring. Hayden. Hadn’t he done right by her? He’d broken it off, or had Jared to do it for him. Hoyt couldn’t lie to her face and tell her he didn’t want her any more. Not without revealing his true feelings. It’d been two months since that day he’d sat on his bed, listening to her cry from the next room while what was left of his soul bled out. Hunter stopped pacing, and Hoyt watched the anger slowly slide from his features until the only thing left was pity. Fucking pity. “Don’t look at me like that.” He wanted to shout the words, but all he could manage was a strangled whisper. “I’m sorry, man, I shouldn’t have gone at you like that.” “No. Don’t you back off now. Finish what you came here to do.” Hoyt was the one getting up in Hunter’s face this time, like mouth-to-mouth close. “I’m done.” Hunter didn’t move. “Fucking. Finish.” “Fine. You need help. You went through a lot. If you don’t get help on your own, I’ll take care of it for you.” Hunter hit the deadpan look he’d perfected, everything about him locking into a concrete wall. “That’s not why you’re here, is it?” Hoyt got up on the balls of his feet, bringing him to eye level with his team leader. Hunter growled but didn’t breach the invisible centimeter-wide wall separating them. “Why don’t I just say if for you? You came to tell me to stay away from your sister.” Hoyt barely held back from launching a punch into Hunter’s spleen to punctuate the words. But Hunter took a step back, breaking the tension, getting his shit under control, and said, “Promise me you’ll continue to leave her alone. She’s out here right now and she’s not ready to give up on you yet. She deserves better than you can give her right now. You know it. I know it.” Hoyt lowered down from the balls of his feet, needing to feel the solid floor beneath him. He knew he didn’t deserve her. He didn’t deserve any woman, let alone one as perfect as Hayden. But he wanted her like he wanted to breathe. Hoyt took in a deep breath, accepting his fate. Getting comfortable with the heavy pit of emptiness in his chest. He couldn’t be mad at Hunter. They all knew Hoyt’s body wasn’t the only thing that had been ruined in that cabin, but Hunter was the only one with the guts to say it. The rest of the crew had been treating him like he was a china doll with a crack in its head. Yes, he appreciated the truth, but it hurt to lose what little hope remained to him. “I promise. I will never lay a hand on her again.” Hunter stood there, lips parted, studying him. For a moment, Hoyt thought he might relent, but then he stalked out of the room and shut the door behind him. Hoyt stood there in silence for a moment, catching his breath, and then turned back to face the monster in the mirror. He’d never been a coward before, and he wouldn’t start now. He couldn’t hold a sniper rifle steady. He couldn’t hold his woman. She could no longer be his woman. He couldn’t even hold his shit together without pills and alcohol. His friends were here to celebrate his recovery. They were in the living room eating, drinking and having fun like the old Hoyt was back. Like he was normal. His chest felt like a thousand-pound wench was cinched around it. And now he couldn’t breathe in his own bedroom, the large open space as tight around him as a layer of shrink wrap. The walls closed in, trapping him, robbing the room of oxygen. His throat closed with it. Hoyt gasped, helpless to stop the panic, just like when he’d been helpless to stop the torture. Strung up like a piece of meat in that shack in the woods. Can’t breathe. Can’t think. Can’t stop. “Fuck you!” He threw a desperate punch, and his fist shattered the mirror. Shards of glass flew everywhere like shrapnel. His shoulders pinched tight and he threw the bottle of whiskey. Nothing could help him. Not the pills. Not alcohol. Not Hayden. Hoyt sank to his knees amidst the glass. No amount of counseling would fix him. He was as broken as the mirror and if he didn’t do something, he’d destroy his loved ones. Hoyt picked up a shard of glass. He was a burden. A disgrace to his team. Worthless. He wouldn’t give them the choice to try to save him. He didn’t deserve it. Besides, he knew Hayden enough to know she might not stay away. He didn’t want her to waste her life on him. Hoyt stuck the tip into his skin and sliced down his arm, making sure to slice the right vein. He’d been a coward when they’d tortured him. He’d begged. He’d pleaded. He’d given up his identity. But not anymore. This was the way he’d reclaim himself. A wave of dizziness hit and he fell to his hands. Blood gushed from his arm. He dropped flat on the floor and let it all go. No more nightmares. No more panic attacks. No more pity. Just darkness.
AMAZON ~ GOODREADS AMAZON ~ GOODREADS AMAZON ~ GOODREADS
AMAZON ~ GOODREADS AMAZON ~ GOODREADS AMAZON ~ GOODREADS Lindsay Cross is the award-winning author of the Men of Mercy series. She is the fun loving mom of two beautiful daughters and one precocious Great Dane. Lindsay is happily married to the man of her dreams – a soldier and veteran. During one of her husband’s deployments from home, writing became her escape and motivation. An avid reader since childhood, reading and writing is in her blood. After years of reading, she discovered her true passion – writing. Her alpha military men are damaged, drop-dead gorgeous and determined to win the heart of the woman of their dreams.             BLOGGER PARTICIPATION LIST FOR THIS TOUR

Tendrils by Holly Barbo

TENDRILSWhere ’What if’ becomes ‘What is’AUTHOR: Holly BarboCOVER DESIGNER: The Graphics Shed GENRE: Short story collection covering the following genres: Dystopian, Science Fiction, Sci-fi thriller, Sci-fantasy, Contemporary, Contemporary Thriller, Historical Fiction and Fantasy Stories come from any number of places. One could start from a memory, a photo in a magazine or from pondering a news item and wondering, "What if?"This collection arose from that sort of random stimuli. Some are pure imagination of science fiction or fantasy. Others developed from random historical facts or the disturbing news stories of war-torn regions.This is a collection of stories for those who like to think.Includes 4 award-winning short stories."I enjoyed every story in Tendrils! I am impressed with the versatility and well thought out environment in each setting. Obviously good research was put into writing these stories as well as a wonderful gift of empathy with a delightful touch of practical wisdom. In my opinion the last story would even make a good movie!" (Cynthia)"An excellent compilation of short stories over different genres. I was highly impressed by the quality of the writing and her use of words, which dragged me in on every page." (Bookcollecter)"I thoroughly enjoyed this read. I had a hard time putting the book down. Some stories are short, some long. All are suspenseful & of different genre. I am amazed at her extensive vocabulary and her overall knowledge on so many subjects. Her imagination takes you on a great trip every time with every story. None are ever boring. I highly recommend this latest book of hers. You will not be disappointed. Sit back & take yourself on an adventure. You will learn something too along the way." (Paul and Patti L. Jordan)
SAMPLES FROM 5 OF THE SHORT STORIESThe Tin of Honey:Zoe knelt by the tiny trickle of water that seeped out around the rocks. She wet some dirt and caked it on the stings that liberally dotted her face and arms. Zoe breathed a sigh as the mud eased the discomfort. The little girl would be filthy by the end of the day, but she doubted anyone would notice. There was a scuff of sound and Zoe whirled low into the deepest shadows of the rocks. “It’s just me,” came the whisper. Bright green eyes under a messy thatch of brown peered over the edge of the gully.The little girl sagged in relief. Sam wouldn’t tell on her.The boy studied his small friend. “I see you found the bee’s nest. Did you get the honey Robson wanted?”The little girl nodded. She knew the man’s desire for the sweet. He had impatiently pried open the can and grabbed a honeycomb as soon as she delivered it last time. Zoe pointed to the large tin. She stood and brushed the drying mud off her palms as she moved to the container and lifted it into her arms. Sam shook his head at the picture. The tin seemed almost as big as she was. “You got that okay? Both of us have to get back to the work team. We’re late. I’ll see you there.”Zoe shook the tangle of tawny-colored hair out of her eyes and nodded toward the top of the gully. Sam picked up his bucket of berries and, with a wave, disappeared over the rise.The youngster scrambled up the slope. The tin was big and awkward in her arms and she stumbled, jarring the container. She struggled to get her balance. Though she knew Sam would have helped her, she couldn’t allow that. There were consequences if she didn’t pull her weight. Stopping at the edge of the wheat field, she set the big tin down again and rubbed at the bee sting at the edge of her collar of obedience. Nothing could be done about that particular sting. It was just going to chafe against the hard edges of the band. The collar was impossible to take off. All the kids wore one. Robson had found them in the old prison storage room and used them to ensure the orphans did as they were told. The collar was constructed in a series of overlapping metal flakes. It reminded her of the scales of the snake she had seen near the compound last week.With a sigh, she squatted down and wrapped her skinny arms around the tin. She got the weight balanced and started through the waving grass. Running was impossible, but she hurried the best she could. Sam was far in the distance and would reach the other orphans probably ten minutes ahead of her.A Crystal Snowflake:Orion gave a quick scan of the room. He needed to make sure he had everything important. His backpack was stuffed and the computer case held so much that there were edges of paper sticking out of it in a haphazard manner. The slender young man slung the strap of the computer bag over his shoulder, grabbed the backpack and headed for the front door. His hand paused as he reached for the knob and he looked out the window.It was dark and he could see the snow falling through the street lights. There didn’t seem to be anyone about, so he slipped from the house and walked casually to his trusty old Chevy, his breath coming out in rapid visible puffs. The nonchalance was an act. He wanted anyone watching to assume he was going to M.I.T. to get in some late night work. He scanned the shadows, hoping that no one was there. He threw his backpack on the passenger seat then wedged the computer case between it and the seat back. He wanted both within easy reach. Once buckled in, he allowed his nervousness to slip out and thoroughly checked the view from his mirrors.He eased onto the street and when there was no sign of his tires slipping, increased his speed. Orion reached into the pocket of the backpack for the pre-paid phone that he’d picked up when he determined his cell had been tapped. At the stop sign, he punched in a number. The snow flurries were increasing and he switched on the wipers. Orion waited for his friend to pick up.He smiled when he heard her voice and responded by saying, “I’m on my way and no one is following me. Just in case, I sent instructions to our safe place. Don’t worry about retrieving the envelope unless I don’t get there by morning. Okay. Gotta go. I’ll be at your door for breakfast with your favorite croissants. Have the coffee brewed.”Orion laughed at the response. “Okay. I need to concentrate on driving in this stuff. See you soon, Chayse. Bye.”Beyond the stop sign, the road sloped to a picturesque country bridge, one of many that dotted the New England states. He had to admit it was beautiful in the snowfall but with the driving conditions worsening, he focused on how the car responded to his small adjustments in steering. In the weak light, he didn’t notice the watcher standing in the shelter of some trees on the far side of the road. The muffled figure took a box out of his pocket, pointed it at the car and pushed a button. The loud sibilant schwuff of the slush hitting the car’s undercarriage drowned out the pop.Without any warning, Orion’s power steering quit. Working to compensate on the slick road, he fought to correct the fish-tailing motion of the car. “Shit!” He tapped the brakes and was horrified as his foot went all the way to the floor.Fighting the wheel and the momentum of the old Chevy on the slippery surface became his entire focus…and he was losing. He tried gearing down and applying the emergency brake, but the car went into a spin and he caught a glimpse of the bridge railing coming up too fast. “Shit!” The car broke through the wooden barrier and sailed into the darkness over the side.Octopus’s Garden:“Come on, Allie, wake up! Your fever’s broken and we’ve got to get out of here. They plan to kill you!”A girl with big dark eyes looked over her shoulder from the look-out position near the hallway. “Shh! Keep it down, Mitch! See if you can get her upright. She’s going to be worthless until she gets some fluid and one of those energy bars inside her.”He lifted the pale girl to the edge of the bed and propping her up, touched a glass of water to her lips. “Allison, take a sip. Open your eyes and look at me. I need you to pay attention.”The weak girl made a protesting sound but took a sip of water. Her eyelids fluttered. “Where am I?”Sensing his building impatience, the girl at the door whispered sharply, “Tell her and get her to eat the bar!”“All right, all right, Pilar!” Mitch returned his focus to Allie. “Can you hear me? I’ll tell you but not until you take a bite. The food will help you feel more like yourself.”With her eyes still closed, Allison chewed. “Answers now!”“We’re in the medical research pod of Oceania Four, the Underwater Habitat west of California. A hundred and twenty of us were recruited to help the scientists find ways for humans to adapt to living and working for long periods of time underwater. Do you remember any of this?”Half of the bar was gone and Allison was sitting up on her own. “Vaguely. Keep talking.”“We came here to work in the labs. Our college debt would be forgiven and we were guaranteed research jobs.” “So…I got sick?” The bar was gone and Allie started on the second. She could focus now and was looking around the dimly lit room as she listened.“We all did. It turns out we’ve been guinea pigs for their gene manipulation experiments.”“Oh shit. Give me the bottom line.” Allison slipped off the bed and onto her feet. Shaking a little, she reached for the glass of water and a third of the highly-efficient power bars.“Forty-nine died screaming in agony. Thirty-four mutated into…things beyond nightmares. Eighteen of us made it through the fever and were lucky enough to wake at night and slip out of the facility between security shifts. We’ve come back for you but we’re nearly out of time. There are eighteen remaining and they’re all in beds in this ward, desperately ill. They’ll not get a chance to win or lose their personal battle in the cellular war. We’ve learned the decision’s been made to do a major cover-up and ‘sanitize’ this facility. They plan to euthanize all their test subjects in the morning. That means us if we’re caught!” The Ball:Baakir slept curled against his little brother in the dusty darkness. He woke as his mother touched his shoulder. “We must go. Now!” The boy didn’t question but rose from the sleep mat and waking his brother, lifted the child to his feet. There were sounds from the end of the village: a cacophony of harsh shouts and screams. He took Azizi’s hand and hurried to the doorway where his mother crouched, peering out. The flickering firelight from burning huts glinted on her face and the wire jewelry around her neck. There were shadowed figures moving around the far huts.“Stay low and follow me.” She looked at her sons to see if they understood.Both boys nodded.Slipping a bundle onto her back, Kofi melted into the blackness. Baakir was close enough to touch her skirt but didn’t loosen his grip on little Azizi’s hand. The three became part of the moonless night as they dashed for the depression of the wadi and the deep grass beyond. Each knew they could be discovered at any second!They were going to the safety of Kofi’s old village. It was isolated in a remote region of the country and away from most of the fighting. The journey would be dangerous but staying was certain death. Baakir heard the throaty grourff of a hunting lion in the distance to his left and swinging little Azizi onto his back, quickened his pace.At dawn, they hollowed a place in the tall grass. Azizi slid off his back as Baakir sank to his knees. Within minutes both little boys were curled up and sound asleep, the tears on Azizi’s cheeks drying to leave salt trails, which glistened in the morning light.The Heart of a Shadow:Giselle came to awareness with a confusion of pebbles and dust pelting her. A stench of concrete powder, burnt plastic, acetone and something she couldn’t place overwhelmed and made her cough. Elle lay disoriented, wondering where she was…what had happened?The last thing she remembered was walking through the village. The stalls in the open air market were closing for the day. Elle exchanged cheerful banter with the merchants as they gathered their goods and earnings, preparing to go home and spend an evening with their families. She’d grinned at the antics of the flower seller’s daughter who’d been mischievously peeking through the cheerful yellow blossoms. Charmed, Elle had taken her picture. The child’s bubbling laughter was so contagious that several shoppers had stopped just so they could share in the merriment. Abruptly, there was a flash of bright light and the world exploded.***At first Elle could only hear the patter of falling debris. The young woman tried to raise her hand to brush the grit out of her eyes. Her body was sluggish and it was a few moments before she managed to touch her face. Elle’s fingertips brushed against painful areas and her hand came away sticky. She was alarmed to see blood smearing her dusty hands.With a small groan, she turned her head. Chunks of bricks, concrete and boards littered the street. Shock and denial froze her body and took her breath. The beautiful little girl from the flower stall lay broken and still not eight feet away, tossed against the cobbles like a lost doll. Elle stretched her arm toward the child in desperate supplication, beseeching the little girl to blink or move, but it was too late. The muscles in the young woman’s face and chest contracted painfully in grief as she drew in a shuddering breath and began to cry in wrenching bursts.The sound of running feet and shouts filled her ears. A young man knelt beside her. Efficient hands ran over her, searching for injuries. He leaned low and placed his cheek against hers, making soothing sounds between his questions as her body wracked with sobs. Finding nothing broken, he lifted her to lean against his chest. Water sloshed and a woman’s soothing hands gently washed the cuts on her face. Gradually, Elle’s breathing settled enough for her to answer.“I’m Giselle Bouvier. People call me Elle. I’m shooting pictures of life at the edge of the war zone. Thought you were out of shelling range.”The young man brushed her hair away from a cut on her forehead that a woman was swabbing with antiseptic. “Elle, you are one of the lucky ones. The missiles came without warning from miles away. There are rebels in the hills.” Amazon ~ iTunes ~ B&N ~ Kobo ~ Scribd ~ Goodreads  Holly's world is shaped by her love of family, the beauty of the natural world and an irrepressible creative drive. She has always been curious and sees life through questions. These four characteristics color her writing voice and her stories frequently evolve from her asking "What if....?" Her tales tend to have non-urban settings with nature contributing to the plot, building discordant themes inside a seemingly peaceful refrain. My motto: Weaving Alternative Worlds with Threads From Today.AMAZON ✯ WEBSITE ✯ FACEBOOK ✯ GOODREADS ✯ PINTEREST ✯ TWITTER ✯ PGP AUTHOR PAGE ✯ PGP PINTEREST ✯ NEWSLETTER BLOGGER PARTICIPATION LIST FOR THIS TOUR

Aurora's Song by Cherime MacFarlane

AURORA'S SONG AUTHOR: Cherime MacFarlaneGENRE: Paranormal Romance Algen is finally home after spending most of her teen years, and young adulthood in Washington State. She has never been clear on the reason she was sent to live with her father’s relatives. But she has a job she loves and can finally live in the place she loves. The Aurora Borealis fascinates her; Algen has missed the lights and winter terribly. The Grannies want her to be careful. Should she be careful of the new hire at the native corporation? She’s sure if he gets too close her heart is going to be in grave danger. The cultural anthropologist is pursuing her with the single-mindedness of a big predator. Gunrik is too smart, too much of a hunk and far too tempting. Ignoring the question, I sipped my tea and considered exactly what I was prepared to reveal to the man. I decided to keep my cards concealed. "I've made an offer, and I refuse to go into details about my reasons. You may accept or reject the offer. I do need to tell you there may not be another.""Offer accepted. What time will you be there? May we sit together?""We may. If all goes well, perhaps you can escort me to brunch afterward. We shall see."I thoroughly enjoyed the game we played. Gunrik interested me. I hadn't met a man who would spar with me in a long time. He could think fast on his feet. Verbal fencing could be so much fun. But I sensed he was almost as careful about who he let into his private world as I was. We resembled two tigers playing mating games. When tigers finished mating, the females went off to have and raise their young, and the males went back to their solitary existences. How would this work out? Would teeth and claws come into play? He had piqued my curiosity, and I do love puzzles. AMAZON US ~ GOODREADS ~ SMASHWORDS Although born in New Orleans, I am proud to call myself an Alaskan. I have lived here since 1977. I have seen -40 degrees, hauled water, made bear bacon and I live in a cabin. I have used a fishwheel to catch salmon coming up the Copper River. I was my second husband's chief mechanic's helper and roadie. I have cut firewood on shares. I worked as a cocktail waitress during pipeline days in a small lodge on the Richardson Highway.My second husband, a Scot from Glasgow, was the love of my life. When I write Scots dialect, I personally experienced hearing it from my in laws. When my husband got on the phone to Scotland, after 5 seconds I could barely understand a word.We moved to Wasilla to get warm. It barely drops past -25 degrees here in the winter. I became a paralegal and worked for over 26 years for the same firm.Alaska is my home. I never thought I would love it so much, I never want to leave. The beauty of Alaska is a draw I cannot resist. I love the people and the history. I have been captured by a place I came to under duress. Life does play some interesting tricks on one. My love and I were not apart more than 24 hours for 20 plus years. I never wanted to be anywhere but with him. He was a man to run the river with and was my biggest fan.            BLOGGER PARTICIPATION LIST FOR THIS TOUR