Tuesday, September 19, 2017

Ancient Rising Spooktacular Tour, Excerpt & Giveaway!


Xandria Drake: Ancient Rising
Xandria Drake
Book 1
Laura C. Cantu

Genre: Young Adult, Paranormal Fantasy

Publisher: Serendipity Digital Media KC

Date of Publication: November 13, 2013

ISBN: 978-0988585102
ASIN: B00BMBMF90

Number of pages: 448
Word Count: 131,357

Cover Artist: Laura C. Cantu

Tagline: When you learn your life is a lie, who do you trust?

Book Description:

“When an unusual carnival pulls into town, Xandria Drake has no clue this mystical fairground will thrust her into a thrilling world of mystery, deception, and danger. Her predictable existence will soon be transformed into a turbulent reality where magic reigns, and creatures of fantasy are just as tangible as her ballroom dancing trophies. New revelations will send Xandria on a quest in which she is forced to question everything and everyone, including the man of her dreams, Viktor.

When Viktor confesses his interest in Xandria, she couldn’t be happier. Her joy quickly fades, however, when Viktor reveals he is a vampire. Xandria is soon forced to face shadowy and obscure dangers she never knew existed, and on the coattails of the impending darkness rides Viktor’s greatest rival andXandria’s ultimate temptation, Sebastian Vespera.

Will Xandria’s love for Viktor be enough? Or will Sebastian’s seductions ensnare Xandria in a fierce and powerful romance? How will Xandria cope with the forbidden knowledge she gains? Mysterious, magical, and compelling, Xandria Drake: Ancient Rising is witty when you want it to be and serious when it needs to be. This paranormal fantasy novel will capture you from the beginning and won’t let you go until long after the story is finished.”






Excerpt:

His pale golden eyes flamed with glints of orange and burned with intensity and promises of dark, forbidden passion. The man’s chiseled face screamed rebellion, arrogance, and strife. He was the kind of man my mother told me to avoid; the kind you want to take home and fix; the kind you want to tame. He flicked his head to the side, flinging his long dark-brown hair out of his face. Then he slipped off his black trench coat in one flowing movement and rolled up the cuffs of his white, semi-translucent button-up shirt. He obviously knew my eyes followed his every movement because he allowed the neckline of his shirt to gape open more than it should have. My eyes traced the golden-tanned curves of his smooth athletic chest.
“Bonsoir, mademoiselle. I am Sebastian Vespera. I must insist on seeing you this evening.”
Long fingers and a broad palm extended toward me, intent on shaking my hand. His silky voice caressed parts of my body best left unnamed. Oh my.
I stood there, unmoving, admiring him.
Ebony cleared her throat as she observed our interaction from behind the counter. I blinked and recovered from my moment of obvious obsession. The man smirked. His five o’clock shadow added virility and ruggedness to his appearance.
I covered my eyes with my right palm for a second and then rested it on my forehead as if I were tired. “Please excuse me. May I ask, what did you say?” I tried to be as polite as possible.
“My name is Sebastian Vespera.”
I recognized his accent: French. There was something else too—something my mind refused to recognize–fangs?
“Please, Miss Drake. It is imperative for me to receive a treatment from you this evening.”
Something about his request drew me to place my palm in his awaiting hand. Unexpectedly, a jolt of energy forced a path up my arm as our fingers and palms locked together. My entire body jerked and buzzed as if I had been hit with a thousand little volts of static electricity. Simultaneously, voracious lust swarmed inside me like a hive of angry bees. The sensations made it impossible to concentrate. Searching for my attention, his calloused hand squeezed mine.
I shook my head and blinked. Think! Think! My voice came out high and breathy when I said, “Please, Mr. Vespera. Come this way.”
He dropped my hand and nodded. “As you desire.”
His intoxicating scent chose that moment to fill my nostrils. My body shuddered before I turned around and took a step toward the first treatment room.
Ebony fanned herself and muttered, “Oh Lordy, this ain’tgonna be pretty.”


About the Author:

Laura C. Cantu is a multitalented artist, visionary, and humanitarian. Throughout her life, she has felt an overwhelming desire explore the mysteries of the unknown and to expand her awareness and experiences. By allowing her perspective to shift and change, Laura has learned to unleash her imagination and use it to guide her through creative processes. She passionately follows her dreams and has achieved high levels of success in her various careers. As a professional dancer, Laura won six national titles and placed fourth in the Professional Argentine Tango World Championships. She also stretched her creative muscles as a visual artist with drawings that toured across the globe. Adding to her diverse accomplishments, Laura earned her master’s degree in Oriental Medicine in 2012, which has afforded her opportunities to assist many along their journeys to realizing wellness.

Despite her already jeweled career, there is another passion Laura delights in—the art of storytelling. Her first young adult fantasy novel, Xandria Drake: Ancient Rising, earned rave reviews and a Goodreads' book of the month award. Currently working on The Vathylite Realms, Laura is harnessing and focusing her energies to craft engaging stories that are meant to bring joy, inspiration, and awareness to all who read them.

Laura is on a mission to live a life of inspiration, truth, and empowerment. With future books pending release, she continues to dance as a hobby, study energetics and wellness, and explore her imagination. Laura also enjoys drawing and creating 3D art and animations, hiking, meditation, playing guitar, and spending time with her family, friends, and pets.









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Five Blitz, Excerpt & Giveaway!


Five
J.A. Huss
(Mister 0.5)
Publication date: September 19th 2017
Genres: New Adult, Romance

Five Aston has known Rory Shrike for as long as he can remember. He played with her in the sandbox. He went to every damn horse show just to be supportive. He helped her with her French, walked her home from school, and faked his test scores just to stay with her a little longer and not be sent off to college early.
But eventually he had to move on.
And so did she.
Never has a second chance meant so much to a boy who loves a girl.
A standalone book that is also a spin-off of the Rook & Ronin Series and prequel to the Mister Series. You can read it first, you can read it last. It doesn’t really matter because it’s f*cking Five.




EXCERPT

“You want a kiss?”
“Mmmhmm,” I say, closing my eyes as I picture it. God, I’ve dreamed of this moment for ages. “I really need one, Five.”
His mouth touches my earlobe. Lips caress the soft skin of my neck. “Like this?” he asks.
“Yes,” I practically moan. “Just… like… that.”
“Do you want more, Princess?” he asks, his voice low now. Growly. Filled with so much promise.
“More, please,” I say, in my sweetest princess voice.
“Then promise me, baby. Just say those two words. ‘I promise.’ And as soon as you do that, I’ll give you everything you want. OK?”
“Five,” I moan. “Just—”
His hands come up suddenly. He cups my face, stares into my eyes with the most sincere expression I’ve ever seen on him. And underneath that sincerity, I see… fear. “Promise me.”
“Five,” I say, unable to stop staring back. This is everything. Everything I’ve always dreamed of. Five pressing me up against a wall. Me, the only thing on his mind. Except I’m not the only thing on his mind, am I? No. Those creeps from the past are back. That’s why he’s here. And even though I’d normally not give in so easy, I know this is not a game. So I say, “I promise. Now stop talking, you stupid genius, and kiss me already.”
He smiles. Leans in. I close my eyes, ready for it. Finally gonna get what I want.
But then he moves his mouth to my ear and nibbles on my lobe. “Good girl,” he coos. “But I’m not sure I believe you, Princess. I can feel those wheels turning inside your head. They’re grinding hard.” He presses his hard cock against my hip when he says that last part. “So I’m gonna hold off on that kiss until I get back tonight. And if you’ve been good, and if you’ve held up your end of the—”
“What?” I say, pushing him back. “You will do no such thing, Five Aston! I want a fucking kiss and I want one right now! I’ve waited six years for this, and denying me is practically emotional abuse. Now stop fucking around and kiss me, goddammit!”
“Who’s the boss of you, Rory?”
I huff out some air. “Me.”
He smiles. It’s a big, genuine, I’m-gonna-teach-you-who’s-boss smile. “Wrong answer.”


Author Bio:
JA Huss is the USA Today bestselling author of more than twenty romances. She likes stories about family, loyalty, and extraordinary characters who struggle with basic human emotions while dealing with bigger than life problems. JA loves writing heroes who make you swoon, heroines who makes you jealous, and the perfect Happily Ever After ending.
You can chat with her on Facebook (www.facebook.com/AuthorJAHuss), Twitter (@jahuss), and her blog, New Adult Addiction (www.jahuss.com).
If you’re interested in getting your hands on an advanced release copy of her upcoming books, sneak peek teasers, or information on her upcoming personal appearances, you can join her newsletter list (http://eepurl.com/JVhAr) and get those details delivered right to your inbox.

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Monday, September 18, 2017

Unorthodox Tour, Excerpt & Giveaway!


Unorthodox
A Kendra Spark Novel
Book One
S. Peters-Davis

Genre: Paranormal Suspense-Thriller Romance
with a good dollop of Supernatural

Publisher: Books We Love Publishing

Date of Publication: September 15, 2017

ISBN 978-1-77362-303-0
ISBN 978-1-77362-304-7
EPUB 978-1-77362-300-9
Kindle 978-1-77362-301-6
WEB 978-1-77362-302-3

Number of pages: 153 pages
Word Count: 63,000

Cover Artist: CoverUp.Net

Book Tagline:  Kendra’s ability of communicating with the dead is requested by her FBI criminal analyst friend to stop a killer from murdering agents.

Series Tagline: Kendra sees ghosts, and then her BFF, Jenna, becomes one. The two friends and FBI agent Derek Knight fight for justice to the victims of heinous crimes.

Book Description:

Kendra Spark, suspense-mystery romance author and communicator with the dead, is requested to hop on the first flight to D.C.

Jenna Powers, FBI criminal analyst and estranged best friend of Kendra, gets ghosticized in a fatal accident before relaying all the details of the FBI killer case.

Derek Knight, a dedicated FBI Special Task Force agent, takes lead on the case.

The investigation into the FBI agent killings continues as Kendra, Jenna – yes, even after death – and Derek work together on the case before Director of the Special Task Force Jackson Powers’ number is up. He’s Jenna’s father and the end-game of the killer’s target list.

Somehow the elusive killer remains undetected, until Kendra’s unique ability produces results and a final possibility at stopping his killing spree before it’s too late.



Excerpt:

From the Author Review Copy: The scene – Derek has Kendra in a casual interrogation room inside the FBI building – D.C. location

The door opened and Jackson Powers entered before I could respond.
He glanced around the room stopping when he saw me; his red rimmed eyes spoke volumes. I clearly remembered his presence, a straightforward man, full of confidence and direction, but in this moment he appeared like a man broken. I rose and reached for a hand shake. Instead, he grabbed my hand and pulled me into a big bear hug.
“I’m so very sorry about Jenna. Sorry for your loss, for my loss…” Muscles tensed around my vocals and cut off the words.
Tears spilled from both of us. Derek stepped out of the room, clicking the door closed.
“Jenna told me she was meeting with you today, going to show you the city sights.” Jackson held me for a few more minutes, patting my back and telling me it wasn’t my fault.
The thought of the accident initially being my fault had never entered my mind. Why would that thought cross his? I stepped back. Obviously he hadn’t received the latest details of the accident, but even so why would he consider that I’d feel responsible. Even if I questioned that maybe I could have done something to stop her in some way, she did save that boy. “Not sure what you mean…in thinking it could be my fault?”
His eyes widened, maybe a little startled at my blatant question. “I assumed Jenna ran after a little culprit that grabbed your purse or something much worse. She must have gotten caught up in the chase to run in front of on-coming traffic.” His face softened. “Kendra, I know Jenna, there was nothing you could have done to stop her. She’s always been head-strong…was always
head-strong,” he corrected himself, then his voice cracked, and suddenly something occurred to me.
Jackson isn’t privy to Jenna and Derek’s manhunt for the FBI killer, nor the reason I’m here. Of course. Jenna had tagged along to certain crime scenes while she was still in college, but from all that I remembered, Jackson wanted her profiling cases strictly inside the building. She had access to all the crime scenes from pictures and files on her laptop. At least she always used to complain about his restrictions, and I couldn’t imagine he would allow her in the field on a serial killer task force, unless things had changed in the last couple years.
There’d been a few close calls on other cases, some of the agent’s family members being abducted or being used for negotiation, leverage. While in college, Jenna told me all the rules her father had enforced if she were to join in any of the FBI cases. He protected her, and now she had returned the favor…to her demise.
Jenna and Derek were hunting the serial killer behind Jackson’s back.
There was a tap on the door and Derek stepped in. His brows were drawn close, eyes narrowed, perhaps his expression of concern. “Sir, I thought Kendra might be hungry. She hasn’t eaten all day.” He smiled at me, and then looked back at Jackson. “I’m headed out for a late lunch and thought I’d take her with me.”
Jackson’s lips pressed together. He finally lifted his chin toward me. “Well, of course. We certainly wouldn’t want anyone going hungry now, would we,” more of a statement than a question. He patted my shoulder. “Go on, Kendra. We can continue our talk later. I’d like to hear exactly what happened to my daughter from someone who was there to witness it.”
Derek grasped my elbow and led me toward the door.
Instead of following, Jackson released a long breathy sigh and sat on the couch. “Shut the door behind you, Derek. And tell Darla I don’t wish to be disturbed.”

My heart swelled huge behind my ribcage, again the confining weight pressing in on my ability to breathe. I couldn’t imagine the emotional maelstrom Jackson was going through. I knew only my own turbulent ride. Now I needed to get some facts straight; it was my turn to interrogate Derek.

About the Author:

S. Peters-Davis writes multi-genre stories, but loves penning a good page-turning suspense-thriller, especially when it’s a ghost story and a romance. When she’s not writing, editing, or reading, she’s hiking, RV’ing, fishing, playing with grandchildren, or enjoying time with her favorite muse (her husband) in Southwest Michigan.

She also writes YA paranormal, supernatural novels as DK Davis.


Twitter – https://twitter.com/spdavis788   


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Wrong Blitz, Excerpt & Giveaway!


Wrong
Jana Aston
Publication date: October 7th 2015
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

I have a history of picking the wrong guy. Gay? Player? Momma’s boy? Check, check and check.
Now I can’t stop fantasizing about one of the customers at the coffee shop I work at between classes. It’s just a harmless crush, right? It’s not like I ever see this guy outside of the coffee shop. It’s not like I’m going to see him while attempting to get birth control at the student clinic. While wearing a paper gown. While sitting on an exam table. Because he’s the doctor. Shoot. Me.
But what if, for once, the man I’ve had the dirtiest, most scandalous fantasies about turned out to be everything but wrong?
FREE on September 19th only!
EXCERPT:
“Sophie, he’s going to be back for more. Trust me.”
I load a tray of cupcakes and slide them into the bakery case. “I don’t know, Everly. He’s really sophisticated and clearly lives a lifestyle a long ways from Cowbell Lane,” I say, referencing my grandparents’ home in Willow Grove.
“Bitch, please. The guy is pushing forty and you’re a hot co-ed with a brand-new tight, shiny pussy. He’ll be back.”
My eyes widen. “Everly, Jesus!”
“Just saying.” She holds her hands up in mock defense before breaking into a huge grin.
“You don’t really think he’s forty, do you?”
“He just turned thirty-six in August.”
“How do you know that?”
“Google.”
“You Googled him?”
“You didn’t?” Everly looks aghast.
“Uh, no.” Truthfully I thought about it, but I didn’t want to get any more invested in him than I already am.
“Well, look what the pussy dragged in.” Everly is smirking.
“Everly, that’s not the saying. It’s ‘cat.’ ‘Look what the cat dragged in.'”
“Oh, I think I’ve got the saying right. He’s here.”
My stomach explodes in nerves as I glance towards the door. Luke is here. I wondered if he’d stick to his normal Tuesday routine and stop here for coffee. I’ve figured out this Grind Me location is between his Rittenhouse Square condo and the student clinic, but it’s hardly the only route he could take or stop he could make.
My heart is beating so fast as I take him in. Is he going to speak to me or go back to just ordering coffee and leaving like he has the last several weeks?
He’s in a navy suit today, crisp white shirt and a silvery blue tie. And then my heart stops beating so fast. There’s a hand on his arm. I follow that hand to the redhead from Saturday night.

Author Bio:
Jana Aston likes cats, big coffee cups and books about billionaires who deflower virgins. She wrote her debut novel while fielding customer service calls about electrical bills, and she's ever grateful for the fictional gynecologist in Wrong that readers embraced so much she was able to make working in her pajamas a reality. Jana’s novels have appeared on the NYT, USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestseller lists, some multiple times. She likes multiples. 

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Saturday, September 16, 2017

Times Square Blitz & Giveaway!


Times Square
Jana Aston
Publication date: September 12th 2017
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

A STANDALONE romance from New York Times bestselling author Jana Aston
Once in a while right in the middle of an ordinary life, love gives us a fairy tale.
I saw that quote about fairy tales embroidered on a decorative pillow at a home decorating store. Honestly, it pissed me off. Retail propaganda aimed to promote sales when any single girl in the city could tell them they’d sell more if they’d offer Keep Your Pants On, Asshole instead.
But it’s fine. I don’t have room for decorative pillows anyway.
And I don’t have time for distractions.
Which is why I’m ignoring the distraction staring at me right now. The one who looks like he belongs on a billboard campaign. The one with the full lips and the cocky smile. The one refusing to look away even when I give him my best no way scowl.
The one headed in my direction. Right now.
*Times Square was previously published inside the Love In Transit anthology.

Author Bio:
Jana Aston likes cats, big coffee cups and books about billionaires who deflower virgins. She wrote her debut novel while fielding customer service calls about electrical bills, and she's ever grateful for the fictional gynecologist in Wrong that readers embraced so much she was able to make working in her pajamas a reality. Jana’s novels have appeared on the NYT, USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestseller lists, some multiple times. She likes multiples.

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Friday, September 15, 2017

All The Light There Is Tour, Excerpt & Giveaway!


All the Light There Is
The Healing Edge
Book Three
Anise Eden

Genre: Paranormal Romance/Suspense

Publisher: Diversion Books

Date of Publication: September 12, 2017

ISBN: 978-1635761641
ASIN: 1635761646

Number of pages: 290
Word Count: 97,770

Tagline: Anise Eden brings us the thrilling and romantic finale to The Healing Edge Series, perfect for fans of Karen Robards or Shiloh Walker.

Book Description:

Psychotherapist Cate Duncan is done with danger. Her whirlwind weeks of training at the MacGregor Group’s parapsychology clinic, while exhilarating, have also brought one crisis after another. So when their research colleague Skeet offers Cate and her boss-turned-boyfriend Ben some time away at his secluded hunting lodge, even though it’ll be a working vacation, they jump at the chance.

But the idyllic Mercier Lodge is teeming with secrets. An aura reader and a telepath who work with Skeet reveal his unorthodox research methods, triggering the MacGregor Group’s suspicions. Then there’s the matter of a tragic death that occurred at the lodge over a year ago, and how it connects to unsolved mysteries from Cate’s past―mysteries she may not be ready to confront.

As they delve into Mercier’s unsavory history, Ben and Cate stick close together, trusting in their love for each other to keep them safe. But when a plot separates them, Cate must rely on the MacGregor Group’s paranormal abilities, some surprise allies, and her own determination to track Ben down and crack Mercier’s mysteries before the strange place claims any more victims.

Amazon     BN



Excerpt:

ParaTrain Internship, Day Six

It’s just a meeting. Nothing to be nervous about. I wiped my damp palms on my skirt and ordered my brain to focus on something else. Like the Jag, I thought. Focus on the fact that you’re finally getting a ride in the Jag.
And not just any Jag—the British 1936 Jaguar SS100 Ben had restored. He’d found the car in a barn in Pennsylvania, sitting on blocks and covered in hay bales. Now, it looked like it had just left the showroom. My fingertips roamed across the soft leather seat as I admired each piece of shining chrome and the deep glow of the wood on the dash. The car’s transformation was a testament to Ben’s workmanship—not to mention to his patience and tenacity when it came to the things he loved.
The things—and the people, I thought, smiling down at my ring. I hadn’t exactly made things easy for Ben, but now, two gold birds were wrapped around my finger, holding a lustrous piece of Scottish agate between their wings. He’d wanted to give me a tangible reminder of how he felt, a talisman to guard against anxiety and doubt.
I stole a glance at Ben. He was completely in his element, left hand loosely holding the steering wheel, right elbow propped up on the door. Everything about him was solid and squared-off, from the angle of his jaw to the way he carried his shoulders. These qualities were augmented by his charcoal gray suit and crisp white shirt—worn sans tie, as usual. I marveled that no matter what internal battles he might be fighting, Ben always exuded a quiet confidence.
“Enjoying yourself?” he asked.
“Completely.” I closed my eyes and inhaled my new favorite scent—a mixture of fine wool, cotton, and vintage leather that clung to Ben like an olfactory tattoo. “My mom would have loved this, you know.”
His light brown eyes softened. “You think so?”
“Absolutely.” Every summer when I was a kid, she had taken me to the local car shows. Back then, we could only look, never touch. Riding along with Ben, I felt like a glamorous movie star. I struck my best Hollywood pose, and he smiled.
It was such a pleasure—not to mention a relief—to see Ben relax after the nonstop drama of the past two weeks. There had been too many life-and-death situations, too much tension. And more than anyone, Ben had earned a vacation. With that in mind, after our meeting at the Smithsonian, we planned to spend the rest of the weekend on the Eastern Shore. That evening, we had a dinner date with my mother’s cousin, Ardis, and a reservation at a nice bed-and-breakfast. Sunday’s schedule was still open. I thought we might head to the ocean; I loved the beach in the fall. Or we could take the ferry to Smith Island; wander around St. Michaels, go sailing…. As I considered the possibilities, I nearly forgot to be nervous.
Then we entered downtown D.C. I sobered as stately suburban homes gave way to modern office buildings and massive structures of chiseled granite. Before long, the Smithsonian office building came into view—ten stories of tinted glass reflecting the cloudless blue sky like a darkened mirror. It took up half a city block.
Ben caught me biting my lip. “You know there’s nothing to be nervous about, right?”
“I know,” I lied. The truth was, I couldn’t believe we were actually there. It had been less than twenty-four hours since Ben told his mother, Dr. MacGregor, about our group’s experience with the double kheir ritual. Now we were on our way to meet with her world-class paranormal research team—and not just to exchange information. We’d been asked to give a demonstration, as well.
I had dressed up for the occasion, wearing a dove gray pencil skirt and a wine-colored cashmere sweater my mother had given me one Christmas. Still, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I didn’t belong at the Smithsonian—not as anything more than a tourist, anyway.
“Well, just in case,” he said, “let me remind you that you have nothing to prove here. None of us do. My mother already told her colleagues what happened with our ritual, and they’re keen to know more. But they don’t have any definite expectations; after all, half of them still think the double kheir is just a myth.” In a conspiratorial tone, he added, “Think of it this way. I know you have a lot of questions. Today, you can ask anything you like.”
“Hmm.” I bit the tip of my finger. “Anything?”
“Sure.”
“Like whether The Da Vinci Code was based in fact? And whether they’re all members of the Illuminati?”
He chuckled as we pulled into the underground parking garage. “If you ask them those questions, I’ll make sure you get a substantial year-end bonus.”
“Deal,” I said, smiling tentatively. I was still getting used to the idea that my new boyfriend was also my new boss.
Ben was the manager of the MacGregor Group, an alternative healing clinic founded by his mother and housed in a repurposed church. I first met him when my former employer, Dr. Nelson, sent me to the MacGregor Group for treatment. My mother’s recent suicide had left me in pieces, unable to function. As close as she and I had been, somehow I hadn’t seen that my mother was in crisis. Her shocking loss had debilitated me, and I could barely leave my house, let alone return to my job as a psychotherapist. What Dr. Nelson hadn’t told me was that Dr. MacGregor was a psychiatrist who specialized in paranormal gifts, and that instead of “treating” me, she and Ben were enrolling me in ParaTrain, a paranormal skills training program. My first lesson had been to learn the definition of an empath—and that I was one.
Since then, my life had changed so dramatically that it was unrecognizable. Dr. Nelson, Dr. MacGregor, and Ben had all worked hard to convince me that because I was an empath, the key to maintaining my mental health was to leave my job as a therapist and go to work for the MacGregor Group. The idea of leaving my beloved therapy clients was nothing short of heartrending. But after due consideration and several persuasive paranormal experiences, I had agreed to take their advice. Before I could officially start my new job, though, I had to complete a three-week training program: one week of preparation, followed by a two-week internship.
My time in ParaTrain had flown by. Although I was starting my final week of the internship, I still didn’t feel anywhere near ready to take on my new role as an empath healer. Before I met the MacGregors, I hadn’t even known that empaths existed, so I was still struggling to find my bearings. And the unexpected romance between Ben and me was keeping me permanently off-balance. Add in the mind-blowing experience we’d had with the double kheir the previous week, and…. Well, I didn’t even know what had happened there, so I was fairly certain that I’d make a fool of myself trying to describe it to the Smithsonian research team.
That thought had me wiping my palms on my skirt again. “I am nervous, though, about this demonstration we’re supposed to give. The researchers may not have any definite expectations, but surely they’re hoping to see something. And unlike the rest of you, I have no idea what I’m doing.”
“You’ll be fine, Cate,” Ben reassured me as we pulled into a parking space. “Kai’s got it all figured out. He said he has something simple and easy planned, so just follow his instructions. Even if nothing interesting happens, that’s still useful information for my mother’s team. They’re scientists, remember? In an experiment, even a negative result is valuable.”
I had no reason to doubt Kai. He was a highly capable expert in ancient rituals, among other things. But when it came to the paranormal, I had a track record of unintentionally messing things up. “What if I forget our instructions and start reading people’s emotions?”
Dr. MacGregor had passed on a request from her project director that we refrain from using our paranormal gifts on the members of the research team without their specific permission. Apparently, they were much more comfortable observing others than being observed themselves.
“The fact that you’re already worrying about that means it’s highly unlikely you’ll forget,” he said. “And even if you do, who’s going to know?”
Only everyone, I thought. My poker face was nonexistent. I buried my face in my hands. “I’m just afraid that I’m going to embarrass myself. And you.And your mother. And disappoint everyone.”
Ben turned off the ignition. I felt him lean towards me and gently tuck an escaped strand of hair into my braid. “That’s not possible.”
His optimism was endearing, if ill-founded. “Oh, I assure you, it’s possible.”


About the Author:

Before becoming an award-winning author, ANISE EDEN wanted to be a wildlife photographer. Unfortunately, a strong aversion to large insects, poisonous snakes, and sharks―along with a cat allergy that might well extend to tigers―limited that career option. Also, Anise always roots for the gazelle, and we all know how that usually turns out. Fortunately, Anise’s voracious hunger for reading kept her occupied, eventually morphing into a passion for writing quirky stories filled with heart, humor, and imagination. Anise loves that through writing, she can live out any adventure she likes without the need for antivenom or antihistamines.

Visit her online at






Addiction Blitz, Excerpt & Giveaway!


Addiction
Vivian Wood
(Addicted To You, #1)
Publication date: September 14th 2017
Genres: Adult, Romance

It started innocently enough. Beautiful Harper gave Sean those eyes… those eyes that meant, yes, take me. But Harper didn’t know Sean’s secrets… She didn’t know that he liked it rough.
More than rough. He liked to dominate. To punish. To degrade. It was the only way that the black hole in his soul wouldn’t swallow him up.
He would push her a little too far, and she would run. They all ran, eventually.
But that’s not what happened… when he put his hands around her throat and squeezed, Harper moaned. When he told her to stay away, she didn’t listen, misbehaving until she got spanked. When he took out the handcuffs, there was excitement in her eyes, mixed with a little fear.
The doe-eyed redhead liked it. More than that, she wanted it. She said so, time and again.
That’s the thing about sexy strangers, though… you never know what they’re hiding. And Harper is carrying a burden so heavy that even Sean’s secrets pale in comparison.
This book is Book 1 out of 2 in the Addicted To You duet. At approximately 50,000 words, it ends in a cliffhanger. As a dark romance, it touches several sensitive topics, but contains no cheating. Book 2 will end in a happily ever after.
EXCERPT:
Sean paused. “Are you certain you want to go in?” he asked.
He turned to look at her to see her swallow. Harper nodded. He couldn’t get a read on her.
“Speak up,” he said. “Was that a ‘yes, sir’?”
Harper fluttered her lashes and looked down. “Y—yes. Yes, sir,” she said obediently. Quietly.
Fuck, the things she could do. “You make me so fucking hard,” he said. Her eyes shot open.
Sean took her hand and led her through the heavy wooden door. It closed behind them with a loud click. He removed his bowtie and watched her survey the room. “Get undressed.”
Without a pause, she started to kick off her shoes.
“Leave them on,” he instructed. Sean sat back in a black leather seat. Harper peeled off the dress and let it fall to the floor.
As she stepped out of the fallen latex, in just a lace thong and matching bra, he couldn’t believe her dimensions. She had a tiny waist, a wasp’s waist, as if she’d been in waist-training for years. Her hip bones jutted out like fins before angling down to slender thighs and shapely calves.
“Right now, right here in this room, you exist solely for my pleasure,” he said. “You’re here to please me in whatever way I see fit.” He stopped himself, aware of his quickened breath. Sean raised a brow. “Get on with it.”

Author Bio:
Get a FREE Vivian Wood secret office romance by copying and pasting this into your browser window: http://vivian-wood.com/get-news.
Vivian likes to write about troubled, deeply flawed alpha males and the fiery, kick-ass women who bring them to their knees.
Vivian's lasting motto in romance is a quote from a favorite song: "Soulmates never die."
Be sure to follow Vivian through her Vivian's Vixens mailing list or Facebook group to keep up with all the awesome giveaways, author videos, ARC opportunities, and more! 

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Thursday, September 14, 2017

After the Fall Blitz, Excerpt & Giveaway!


After the Fall
Katy Ames
(Seven Winds, #2)
Publication date: September 11th 2017
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

If there was one man in the world Grace Fitzgerald never wanted to see again, it was Mark Donovan.
Sinfully handsome, famously flirtatious, unerringly cocky. Paragon of men. Archetype of entitled a**holes. As a guest at her luxury hotel, Mark was impossible.
As the new owner of her hotel, he’s become a nightmare. The kind that wakes Grace in the middle of the night wishing she could forget how right his lips felt against her own, how tempting his fingers were against her skin.
But for all of the challenges that Mark and Grace face working together, nothing can prepare them for the undeniable attraction that flares every time they battle for control. Or the secrets that linger in the luxury of the Seven Winds Villa.
With no way of escaping each other or their pasts, can they possibly survive life on the island after they fall?
A steamy, standalone romance from Katy Ames, author of After the Island.
99¢ for RELEASE WEEK only!
EXCERPT:
“Mr. Donovan. This is Grace Fitzgerald from the Seven Winds Resort,” she shouted through the door, digging out her master key. “Is everything alright, sir?” The only answer was a loud thud. “Sir, I understand you’re having an issue.” Though not one that warranted so much noise, she thought. Steeling herself, Grace continued, “Mr. Donovan, I’m coming in.”
Grace swiped her key and pushed open the door, stepping into the luxuriously understated living room of the Seven Winds Villa. Looking around, Grace confirmed that nothing was glaringly wrong, at least not on the main floor.
Taking a second glance, Grace registered that the villa’s sole occupant had left a wide array of debris scattered across most of the available surfaces. More cups and a few plates of discarded food were stacked on the coffee table bracketed by the living room sofas. A laptop was open, its screen black, abandoned on the corner of a side table. As she made her way over to close its lid, Grace’s foot connected with something on the floor. Whatever it was rolled away, only coming to a halt when it encountered a throw pillow left carelessly near one window.
Grace scowled as she retrieved the bottle from the floor. Glenrothes 1970. The five- thousand-dollar bottle of Scotch was completely empty. Perhaps you should make sure he isn’t in the pool. Face down. On that morbid thought, she raced to the terrace beyond the French doors and checked the infinity pool on the patio below. Empty. Thank God.
At the same time, a loud crack split the air beneath her.
“Shit, shit, shit.” Grace dropped the forgotten bottle and ran down to the lower level. Whatever she’d expected to find on the ground floor of the resort’s most expensive villa, this wasn’t it.
There, sprawled on the ground, eyes closed, lips skewed in an off-kilter smile, wearing nothing more than a wrinkled pair of shorts, was Mark Donovan, co-founder and CEO of D&A International. Sinfully handsome, wildly successful, obscenely wealthy, unerringly cocky, undeniably brilliant, famously flirtatious. And, Grace was horrified to realize, unconscious and sporting a wicked cut above one eyebrow.
“Oh, no, no.” Grace rushed towards him and crouched over Mr. Donovan’s motionless form, her hands fluttering just above his face. Get a grip, Grace. Check to see if he’s breathing, check to make sure nothing is blocking his airways. She focused with a deep breath and shifted her brain to autopilot.
Grace’s pulse calmed substantially when she saw Mr. Donovan’s chest rise in a steady, heavy breath. Definitely not dead. Thank the good Lord. Grace tipped her head back in relief. Skimming her fingers across his forehead, she gingerly checked the cut to make sure nothing was lodged in it. The blood had stopped, a dark red trickle disappearing into the ashy-brown eyebrow that arched defiantly even then. Running an assessing glance across his head and body, Grace confirmed that other than the bruise blossoming beneath the cut, Mark appeared to be perfectly fine. Though unconscious.
An incoherent mumble broke free of his lips, followed by a muffled snore. Grace amended that last part. Not unconscious. Asleep.
Slumping back, Grace rearranged herself so she could sit more comfortably on the floor, her eyes fixed on her unwitting patient. Mark was stretched out and motionless, giving Grace an unparalleled view of his starkly beautiful face and meticulously sculpted body. His eyes were closed and Grace’s gaze wandered across the sharp ridges of his cheekbones and refined slope of his nose, both of which drew her attention down toward his wide, generous mouth, his lips parted, soft puffs of air brushing the strong, supple lines on every exhale.
Determined to ignore her sudden impulse to taste those lips, Grace shifted her eyes away. But she only got as far as the tanned skin of his neck, Mark’s pulse kicking with a regular rhythm at the base, just above the wide stretch of his collarbone. Refusing to stare, Grace attempted to focus on something innocuous. Like her cuticles, or the weave the carpet. Or the inviting water of the pool outside. But a particularly deep inhale dragged her back, this time her attention landing on the long planes of his broad chest, light wisps of blond hair dusting the hard curves that came to an abrupt halt against the repetitive ridges of his abdomen.
Grace, you need to stop staring. Seriously. Stop staring!
But Grace’s eyes had a mind of their own. She could hardly blame them. As Mark breathed, the play of the muscles across his stomach and sides was hypotonic, the slopes and dips elegantly formed, exquisitely defined. Grace’s mouth formed an ‘O’ as she tracked his torso to where it tapered into sharp angles before stretching beneath the waistband of his shorts. Of its own volition, Grace’s tongue slipped across her lower lip as she caught the hint of dark ink dancing across the shadow of one hipbone.
God help her, he was beautiful. Every delicious detail all the more enticing at that precise moment because his eyes weren’t flashing in disdain. And his voice wasn’t dripping with irritation. Mark Donovan, silent and still, was perfect.
Awake and entitled? Not so much.
“Typically, I expect a woman to buy me one drink, at least, before she gets to enjoy such an up-close and personal view.”
Grace squeaked in surprise and tried to scramble back, but Mark anchored one of her wrists in a warm, inflexible grasp.
“You had an accident. I found you on the floor. I was making sure you weren’t injured.”
Confusion, then recollection flashed in the deep indigo of his eyes. Pressing his free hand to the bump on his forehead, he cocked his lips into a crooked grin. “From what I can tell, my injuries are up here. Not”—he nodded in the direction of his crotch—“down there.”

Author Bio:
Katy Ames loves a good story. Whether through blogs, books, or live events, she’s been an avid story teller her entire career.
With a bachelor’s in English Literature, Katy is happiest when curled up on her favorite sofa with a captivating read, whether it’s the Romantic poets or contemporary romance. A good glass of bourbon doesn’t hurt, either.
Katy lives with her husband and son in Washington, D.C. When she’s not writing or reading, she’s very enthusiastic about fancy cheese, late nights & lazy mornings. Only two of which she gets to enjoy on a regular basis.
Katy is a member of both the Romance Writers of America and the Washington Romance Writers.
Sign-up for Katy's newsletter to receive exclusive content & info about new releases: http://eepurl.com/cNWocb

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