Tuesday, December 31, 2013

Atlas Tour, Excerpt & Giveaway!

Atlas
The Atlas Series
Book 1
Becca C. Smith

Genre: Urban Fantasy

Publisher: Red Frog Publishing

Date of Publication: 11/14/13

ISBN: 978-0985027667 (Ebook)
ISBN: 978-1493648375 (Print)
ASIN: B00GPBF8X2

Number of pages: 293
Word Count: 73,000

Cover Artist: Stephan Fleet

Book Description:

Kala Hicks is part of a covert elite military team that answers directly to the President of the United States. But during an emergency mission aboard Air Force One, Kala is shocked to discover that the real threat is none other than the President himself. Defying her commanding officer, Jack Norbin, Kala takes the shot, and her life changes forever.

The moment the President is killed, a supernatural force speaks to Kala, telling her that she has to commit one act of atrocity every four days… or the world will end. Thrown into a reality she never could have imagined, Kala faces off with creatures of legend; from demons determined to make her fail and plunge the Earth into chaos, to angels who don’t trust her to do the job and are willing to kill her to claim it for themselves.

Pitted against the forces of good and evil, Kala must choose whether to save the world by doing the unthinkable, or sit back and let it burn. And four days later, she’ll have to do it again.

Excerpt End of Chapter 3:

Very carefully, Jack opened the door that led to the President’s office.
What awaited them was terrifying.
President Jareth Wilton stood behind his desk. He was wearing a vest that held five grey bars of C-4 wired into a bomb. Wilton was a tall man, well over six feet with stark black hair and a long face. He was a young President, only fifty years old, but he looked like he’d aged twenty years since the last time Kala had seen him at a press conference, with dark rings under his eyes and worry lines on his forehead.
But his smile was what made the scene surreal and horrific. His thin lips were grinning as if he’d just climbed Mt. Everest.
President Wilton stared directly at Jack as the door swung open the rest of the way. “I figured it out! I figured out how to break it! No one will ever have to do what I’ve had to do again! Do you realize what this means?”
Kala knew then and there that the man was cracked. Figured what out? Break what? He was rambling like a mad man.
But the more frightening moment came when Jack responded back to Wilton. “Killing yourself is impossible. People have tried that in the past.”
Not only was President Wilton talking crazy, but apparently Jack knew his language and was responding accordingly.
Kala noticed that Wilton’s eyes lit up when Jack spoke. “You’re the one they sent to replace me.”
Jack nodded.
What? Kala was seriously confused.          
Kala spoke up, “What’s going on Jack?”
Replace him for what?
Jack didn’t acknowledge Kala or the rest of the team, which was shifting uncomfortably behind him.
Wilton shook his head, serious. “You can’t do it. You have to let me detonate this bomb. We have to crash the plane! It’s the only way to stop it!”
“You can’t stop it!” Jack yelled back.
“I can and I will!” Wilton talked into an earpiece. “NOW!”
The plane nose-dived.
Everyone jolted forward and stumbled from the force of it.
Jack barked orders, “Lali get up to the Flight Deck and by any means necessary take over this plane!”
Lali paused for a second, she looked more confused than Kala felt, but after a moment to gain her bearings as the plane was falling fast, she managed to high-tail it out of the room and up to the Flight Deck.
Kala was sure they’d hit ground at any moment.
Jack aimed his gun at the President’s head.
Wilton was frantic. He ducked behind his large oak desk that was bolted to the ground.
“You can’t kill me! You’ll ruin everything!” Wilton yelled.
Jack turned to Kala and Derek. “No one shoots him but me!”
Kala kind of nodded, but she was in shock at the fact that they were about to flatten a part of the capital with Air Force One. She really didn’t care what Jack was saying. She couldn’t let President Wilton set off that bomb and kill thousands.
Jack shot at the desk, trying to hit the president, but he didn’t come close.
Only Kala could make a shot like that and not get them all killed from shooting a hole through the plane.
Kala and Derek made eye contact. Kala could tell Derek was thinking the same thing. He whispered so only Kala could hear, “Do it.”
Kala’s nod was barely perceptible.
Jack saw her and his eyes went wide. “Kala STOP!”
Kala shrugged. “I can’t let him do this, Jack. I’m sorry.”
Only the top of Wilton’s head was showing.
It was enough.
      Kala took her shot.


  
About the Author:


Becca C. Smith received her Film degree from Full Sail University and has worked in the Film and Television industry for most of her adult life. In 2010 Becca published her first novel, Riser followed by the sequel, Reaper, in 2011, and the finale, Ripper in 2013. In 2012 Becca wrote the children’s novel Alexis Tappendorf and the Search for Beale’s Treasure. She is also the co-author of the teen graphic novel Ghost Whisperer: The Haunted.

Becca currently lives in Los Angeles, CA with her husband, Stephan and their two cats Jack and Duke.










Monday, December 30, 2013

The Newfoundland Vampire II : Killer on the Road Tour & Excerpt!

The Newfoundland Vampire
Book II: Killer on the Road
Charles O’Keefe

Genre: Horror / Paranormal / Romance / Vampire

Publisher: Penumbra Publishing
Date of Publication: August 31, 2013

ISBN-10: 1938758293
ISBN-13: 978-1938758294
ASIN: B00EWTYM3G

Number of pages: 193
Word Count: 74,020

Cover Artist: Nils Dannemann


Amazon UK    BN

Book Description:

Joseph O’Reily is still adjusting to the lifestyle and the dangers that come with being a new vampire. He and Cassandra recently fought to the death with Cassandra’s estranged husband John Snow, and now Joseph has experienced his first ménage a trios, as only a vampire can. As if all of this was not complicated enough, he and Cassandra have been tasked with hunting down and killing a rogue vampire, Donald Rathmore.

Another of John Snow’s creations, Donald is an evil misogynistic killer in his own right. Donald has no interest in avenging his creator’s death, but killing Cassandra is at the top of his list.

While Donald continues his murderous spree, Joseph and Cassandra always seem to be one step behind him. The chase is further complicated as they encounter other vampires and learn more about the mysterious nature of the Vampire Council and the coming war between good and evil.
Joseph is only now beginning to trust Cassandra, and this trust will be shaken when he discovers she has even more secrets than he imagined. Her idea of justice and morality is at complete odds with his own. Despite all his powers and growing skill, Joseph is tested physically as a vampire and emotionally by Cassandra. This time the answers and challenges may be too much for the young vampire to handle.


Prologue
My Bonny Lies Over the Ocean

Anne Bonny sat on the beach of Green Island, Hawaii, sipping a mai tai as she admired the view of the sunset. The sky began to turn crimson red, which helped dull the intense headache she suffered as a vampire up before dark.
She resided near what was thought to be an abandoned Coast Guard station, which secretly harbored her mansion underground and several paid servants and guards. Underneath a run-down airstrip lay a subterranean waterway where a submarine was docked. The submarine was used primarily for the human servants that needed to leave the island to fetch supplies or take vacations. The runway itself could still handle flight landings if a friend popped in for a visit.
Anne, like many vampires, was quite wealthy. Wise investments over enough time provided financial comfort that most well-to-do humans accumulated only through inheritance, corporate sharking, or a serendipitous blend of ideas, timing, and networking. The simple truth was, the duration of a human life was usually too short to build the financial stability to which most vampires were accustomed. Like most vampires, Anne chose not to flaunt her wealth. Going unnoticed made it easier to hide from humans. Peace and quiet was easy to obtain on a deserted island.
She had always loved tropical locations, and the Hawaiian Islands were so near the equator that the temperature almost never changed. She also loved sunsets so much that it was worth the suffering and slight risk of being out in the open before full dark. Green Island was primarily a bird sanctuary now, with the occasional monk seals that showed up on the beaches. Anne didn’t hate animals, but she killed a few birds that had the audacity to crap on her head one afternoon. At night, her vampire presence kept them away. In case something happened to her human servants, she could call out to a seal for assistance.
She sang to herself, “My bonny lies over the ocean; my bonny lies over the sea...” She liked that song, even though it wasn’t about her. As she sang and took another sip from her drink, she closed her eyes and grimaced in pain. This was a different kind of pain from that of a vampire out in the day. She knew that her estranged youngling John was in terrible danger and perhaps faced death. Despite the pain, she smiled and reclined easily on her lounger. “Serves the bastard right,” she whispered to herself. “He was my biggest regret in life. His charms fooled me, and I made him one of us. It’s time his life was brought to an end.”
Anne sighed, feeling better as the sun dipped near the horizon. She thought of that spring day in 1834 Newfoundland. John was a handsome man who exuded charisma and confidence. A hundred and thirty years didn’t seem so long ago. Time was relative when one was immortal. Still, she should have vetted John Snow and read his thoughts before turning him. But she was horny, hungry, and foolish. She not only bit him but kissed him afterwards with blood still on her lips. She didn’t see the harm in turning a wealthy fisherman. She realized too late that he was married, and she vowed not to cause the destruction of his marriage. When she saw him shot and dropped into the ocean, she thought that was the end of him, but she was wrong once more. Fish, it seemed, didn’t like the taste of vampires, and she learned that even a shot to the head and an injury to the brain would heal. Many years later, she heard of his rash actions, but didn’t want to admit to the Council that she had caused the mess. Best let them deal with it in their own way.
Newfoundland had seemed like a good place for a pirate to go – Peter Easton, Black Bart, and George Fielding all had frequented the area in years gone by. She enjoyed her life as a pirate. She loved to capture booty, but didn’t delight in slaughter.
Then she thought back to October, 1720, in Ocho Rios, Jamaica. She had been imprisoned there and convicted of piracy. Luckily she had dreamt of her own capture and had grown her belly in the two weeks prior, so as to appear pregnant. It was a simple matter then to ‘plead the belly,’ as it was known at the time, and receive a stay of execution. This stay gave her a chance to escape and resume her pirate career disguised as a man. By 1860, with Albert Hicks hung for piracy in the US, she knew it was time to stop. The world had changed, and she had to change with it. Riverboat gambling was easy money. She did enjoy being on the water and the attention men paid her.
Anne took another sip of her drink and concentrated. John was fortunate that the sun was about to set, and her powers were activated in time. A man in a white shirt and shorts came over to her. “Excuse me, mistress. May I get you another drink?”
Anne opened her eyes. “No, Charles, I’d like to be alone for a few minutes. Take away the glass and bring me my cell phone in a bit.”
The man nodded. “As you wish.” He took the glass and left.
Anne resumed her concentration, and John entered her mind fully. He thought to her, Anne. my dear, my own youngling Catherine and this motherfucker Joseph are about to kill me. If you ever cared for me, avenge my death. I am in Newfoundland, and I will give you my last images so you will know their faces.
Anne snorted and thought back, Go fuck yourself, John. I just wish you had died in 1834 instead of living this long. Anne received no reply, but did see through John’s eyes at his moment of death. She saw a statue of Peter Pan, animals at his feet, and a lot of blood. She saw a woman with beautiful long, red curly hair who looked terribly wounded in her chest, and man who seemed to have been shot as he stabbed John with a sharpened wooden stick.
Anne gasped as her own chest hurt terribly for a second. And then she received one final thought from John. They are watching us.
Anne waited for the pain to fade and rubbed her chest right above her heart. She snorted again and grumbled to herself, “Tell me something I don’t know.”
With the sun gone down, she sat up and smiled, absently admiring her slim, athletic figure in her gold bikini. She tossed back her fiery red hair, kept straight at shoulder length. “My dear John,” she said aloud, “your death, and these other vampires in Newfoundland, are enough to pique my interest.”
The last remnants of the sun disappeared below the horizon, and Anne felt her senses fully come to life. She heard Charles’ heartbeat and smelled the sweetness of his blood. As he approached, she stood and held out her hand for the phone. Charles said in his accustomed manner, “Are you hungry, mistress?” He passed her the phone and stretched his neck to one side.
Anne smiled. “Yes, Charles, you’ll have the next few days off, as I will drain you deeply. Remember, until you pass out, that I liked to be fondled. I’ll make certain Michael carries you to sickbay.”
Charles nodded. “Of course, mistress. Thank you for choosing me tonight.”
Anne took the phone and clipped in on the back of her bikini bottom. She took off Charles’ shirt and sunk her teeth into his neck. He tasted lovely, with not a hint of drugs or alcohol, and had a pleasant taste of cinnamon in his blood. She also enjoyed his ministrations, but she became more excited at the thought of sex with another vampire. It had been too long since she’d enjoyed the company of others of her kind. Any vampire capable of destroying John must be worth my interest.
She drained Charles until his heartbeat started to slow and he drifted into unconsciousness. Anne cared for her servants, the way a pet owner cared for her animals, and she laid him gently on the sand. She took the cell phone out and punched in the mansion number. She didn’t allow time for a greeting but simply stated, “Have a boat waiting on the southeastern end of Midway Island. I’ll whistle loudly. Also, prepare the sub and head off for Honolulu. I’ll be there in a few days. Make sure it has my weapons on board. Oh, and send Michael down to take Charles to sickbay. He’ll need a few days off.”
The reply came instantly. “Of course, mistress, right away.”
Anne tucked the cell phone into Charles’ right front pocket and, after a brief glance at the first stars that came into view, dived into the ocean. The water was warm against her cool skin. She could easily swim in the Arctic and break through ice if necessary, but this was much more pleasant. Fish, dolphins, sharks and the occasional whale all moved out of her way as she cut through the water like a knife. She had been an excellent swimmer as a human, and when she was turned, her swimming speed and skill reached legendary levels. She could easily swim thirty kilometers an hour at night and go for eight to ten hours with a belly full of blood. Like all vampires, she had an uncanny sense of direction and knew she was headed for Midway Island. She planned to reach it just before sunrise. Perhaps, when she got to Newfoundland, she would find a new companion or at least some friends. John had created Catherine, after all, and she did at least owe her an apology. She wondered if this Joseph had experienced a blood embrace. In any case, he had not done it with her.
It would take her weeks to get there this way, but she was in no rush. Anticipation was a wonderful thing, and time was certainly on her side.


The Newfoundland Vampire

Book One

Charles O’Keefe

Genre: Horror/Paranormal/Vampire

Publisher: Penumbra Publishing

ISBN: 978-1935563853
ASIN: B007TRWUCS

Number of pages: 224
Word Count: 86,737


Amazon UK          Chapters

Book Description:

Like every other geek alive, Newfoundland native Joseph O’Reily secretly wants to be a superhero. At thirteen he fantasized about being a vampire, and ten years later he’s still fantasizing – but mostly about a beautiful redheaded woman who has eyes only for him. The one thing different about Joseph’s adult fantasy is that, amazingly, it comes true one night when he goes to a local university pub. Cassandra Snow, literally the woman of his dreams, invites him to her place for an evening of personal pleasure. Of course he’s not going to say no. But when strange things start happening afterward, Joseph quickly learns that not all dreams should come true.



About the Author:

Charles O’Keefe lives in the beautiful province of Newfoundland, Canada, with his wife and two feline ‘children,’ Jude and Esther.

He works in IT support and enjoys many hobbies and activities that include writing, reading, watching fantasy/science-fiction movies and television shows, gaming, poker, walking, Pilates, and of course fantasizing about vampires.

To find out more about Charles, go to Twitter and Facebook or visit his web site. http://www.charlesokeefe.com/






  

Wounded Wings Tour & Except!

Wounded Wings
Cupid Chronicles
Book III
Shauna Allen

Genre: Light Paranormal

Publisher:  Soul Mate Publishing
Date of Publication: December 18, 2013

ISBN: 13: 978-1-61935-349-7
ASIN:

Number of pages:  269
Word Count: 72K

Cover Artist: Rae Monet

Book Description:

Wounded.

Judged harshest by his own heart after the greatest of sins, Elijah Smith imposes the most brutal of punishments upon himself. He is now a fallen angel, cast down by his own hand—lost, suffering, caught between two worlds, and searching for redemption.

Scars.

Scarred emotionally and physically, Naomi Evans has always put her happiness aside to repay her debt to the one who saved her. Never quite fitting into her friendly little town after being abandoned as a child, she’s not sure love will ever find her aching heart.

Redemption.

New Destiny, Arizona will never be the same. Two strangers have rolled into town, shaking Heaven and Earth. One, a handsome loner is temporarily stranded and biding his time, quietly bestowing random acts of kindness on total strangers until he can be on his way. The second, an undercover Cupid named Michael, is determined to bring healing and true love.

His assignment? A fallen brother and his equally wounded soulmate.

Will Naomi be able to see past both their scars? Can Elijah ever forgive himself?

Is such redemption possible?

Book Trailer for Inked by an Angel, the first book in the series:  http://youtu.be/EDdKGsa_k

Excerpt 
Eli gripped her chin and forced her to look up at him. “Are you sure about this?” he asked, indicating the space between them.
Was she sure about what?
Naomi stared into his deep, dark, endless eyes and tried to fathom what in the world he was talking about. But, for the life of her, she was lost. Her emotional radar felt skewed as her heart raced to the rhythm of her zipping nerves.
He stepped closer, his breath mingling with hers. Sweet. A hint of chocolate. She licked her dry lips and his eyes dipped to watch the motion of her tongue.
His hand, still on her chin, moved to cup her neck. She automatically gripped his waist.
Please, her mind screamed. Please kiss me without retreating and calling me a sin.
He seemed to read her thoughts.
He dipped his head and nuzzled the corner of her lips. She sucked in a breath and squeezed a fistful of his T-shirt.
He sucked on her full lower lip then trailed to the other side of her mouth. “. . . because I’m not . . .” he whispered against her cheek.
Her eyes fluttered open. “You’re not what?”
He rested his forehead against hers until they were nose to nose. “Sure.”
She flexed her fingers, gripping his shirt tighter. “About what, exactly?”
His eyes closed momentarily. “You.” He opened his eyes. “Me. Us.”
And women were supposed to be the ones who overthought everything. “Well, I’m not, either. But not everything is a sure bet. Why can’t we just enjoy each other right now? Leave what happens tomorrow for tomorrow.” She pecked a kiss to his frowning lips. “Don’t be so serious, Eli. I know nothing’s forever.”
If anything, his brows dipped further. “Really?”
She tugged his pelvis toward her until they were as close as they could be with clothes on. “Yes. Really. Now kiss me again.”
He studied her face for a few seconds as if trying to see if she was serious. She smiled and shoved back any doubt. He was a temporary treasure. Perfection for her to hold today. And she fully intended to do just that. The possible pain of losing him could wait. She’d be stronger tomorrow, after another taste of him. She sucked it up and tipped her face in silent invitation.
Finally, something clicked in his features and she felt the melting in his muscles as he relaxed into her arms. He hugged her tighter and pressed his lips to hers in a kiss that whipped through her system, as potent as any drug. As his tongue parted the seam of her lips, there was no mistaking the possession of his body around hers. Or the response of her heart.

His.


About the Author:


Shauna grew up an only child with two open and loving parents in Central Texas.  She’s married to her high school sweetheart and is the mother to three fantastic (no, that’s not a typo!) teenagers—one she’s about to send off to the Air Force. 

When she’s not writing, editing, or acting as a personal assistant to two NYT Bestselling authors, Shauna enjoys reading, movies with Gerard Butler, vacays to the beach, and hangin’ with the kiddos–even if they don’t like hangin’ with her!

Website and blog: www.shaunaallen.com

Angel Kisses Newsletter: http://eepurl.com/D_RcP








Friday, December 27, 2013

To Kiss a Werewolf Tour & Excerpt!

To Kiss a Werewolf
Molly Snow

Genre: YA Paranormal Romantic Comedy

Book Description:

As president of Paranormal Addicts Anonymous, Stella’s got no time for popular guys. Especially the surfers who hang at Shoreline’s beach—they think flashing a sand-sprinkled, tanned chest is enough to get any girl. But when surfer-hunk Damien Capernalli crashes Stella’s PAA fieldtrip to a haunted bed and breakfast, it may be time to rethink her priorities.

...And what’s with that wolfish gleam in Damien's eye?


 Excerpt
Her mind played a trick on her. A tall man-slash-beast with perfect white teeth stared back at her. Darn Gordon, she thought she saw Bigfoot of all things. “Hi, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said.
The thing stepped closer, out of the darkness. His appearance was forming more clearly. No, no beast. Far from it. A tall guy, with dark hair and eyes. His perfectly straight teeth still glistened white. Her heart rapped against her chest. “What are you doing here?” She realized who it was. Damien’s muscles were just as beautiful as before, pronounced under another tight T-shirt. It wasn’t fair. Her traitorous thoughts needed to keep to themselves.
“I wanted to… come check it out…” He leaned over and picked something up. “Is this yours?” He pulled his find closer to his face to study it with quirked eyebrows.
Stella could feel the heat of her embarrassment flushing her pale cheeks. “None of your business.” She grabbed the book from him instantly. Her hands shook as she opened the car door and shoved the thing into the glove compartment.
She turned around to face him again, her hands still quivering. She balled them into fists at her side. “I hate being snuck up on. Why are you here?”
“Like I said. I wanted to check out the meeting.”
“How did you know there was a meeting?”
He scratched the back of his neck. “I may or may not have found it in the heap of what used to be a dressing room last night.”
“You know,” she stood there, still tense as all get-out, “you are definitely making a habit of seeing me in my most embarrassing moments.”
He smiled at her. It was the first time she saw him smile since the night he leaned over the counter at Dough-licious, taking her order. But this smile was different. Mockery maybe? “Is it really my fault?” he asked.
Good question. “Well, tonight is. This is my domain. You aren’t supposed to be here. You weren’t supposed to see that–that book, which is totally not mine.”
“Yeah, whose is it?” He smirked.
“Caleb’s.” She said the first name that came to mind.
His lips parted into another smile, and he let out a laugh. “Am I supposed to believe that?”
“Sure.” She nodded unconvincingly. “No, I guess you weren’t. Just tell me what you’re doing here.”
Damien paused. There was something different about his brown eyes. They were intense, like he was holding back a major secret. Rather than revealing anything remarkable, he said, “I told you. I just wanted to check out the meeting.”
“You are a paranormal addict?” Stella questioned. It was hard spitting out those words, since they screamed contradiction to being a surfer-slash-all-around-jock.
“I have a confession to make.” He said his words slowly and thoughtfully.
“Okay?”
“I read New Moon within three hours of picking it up.”
New Moon?” Reading? Finished in just three hours? It took Stella five days to finish that book. Three hours? “You’re kidding, right?”
“I wish I were,” he said seriously.
“Damien Cappernalli, paranormal addict,” she said aloud. “Does not make sense whatsoever.”
“Why not? You know my name, but you don’t know me.”
She laughed at that. Oh, she knows popular guys. They’re all basic carbon-copies of each other. His eyebrows went up as if waiting for her to continue with her analysis.
“I don’t need to explain,” she said. With that, she turned back toward the grange and sped up her steps to make it inside before him. Had she entered a parallel universe? Just what was he up to? All she knew was no matter what the true explanation would be, she wouldn’t like it. Damien was supposed to stay in his separate world from hers.
Maggie, on the other hand, was pleased with the new addition to the group, sitting right beside the beefcake. “Please, introduce yourself to everyone else, Damien.”
They were back to their circle formation. He stood up and confidently put his hands in his jeans’ pockets. “Okay. Hello, everyone.”
Kit looked at Stella out of the corner of her eye for the seemingly hundredth time. Stella ignored Kit, just as she had done the ninety-nine times before.
“My name is Damien, and I am a paranormal addict.”
“Hello, Damien,” all said but Stella. Maggie added, “It is important to know we aren’t like other addicts anonymous meetings. We won’t try to cure you of your obsession. We will support you in it.”
“Okay,” he said. “Well, my monster of choice is the werewolf, and I would like to learn as much about them as possible. So this sounds… perfect.”
Stella felt his eyes on her as she looked down to the concrete floor. Of all the books she had to choose from tonight, she just had to grab the werewolf one. Or was he just saying he liked werewolves to tease her? Maybe he came tonight to get revenge for the big dare gone horribly wrong. Stella suddenly looked up, compelled to say, “I like zombies.” And so she did.
Everyone turned to her, some surprised more than others over her interruption.
“Dead things,” she said. “Er, Undead things. With decrepit flesh.” Shut up, she told herself. “I can’t get enough of them.” That just came out sounding like she had a creepy attraction to them.
“Good idea,” Maggie said happily in her accent. “How about everyone goes around the circle and re-announces what their particular addiction is, so that our newest member can get to know us better. I have been a ghost hunter ever since staying as a child with my great grandmother in her haunted cottage in England. So, as the Ghostbusters would say, ‘I ain’t afraid of no ghosts.’”
Stella’s most comfortable place to be in all the world was quickly taken down, down, down to the innermost depths of discomfort.
   

About the Author:


Molly Snow is a Top 10 Idaho Fiction Author, awarded by The Idaho Book Extravaganza. Her works include quirky teen romances BeSwitched and Fallen Angel. Also a speaker on writing, her school assemblies have been featured in The Contra Costa Times and The Brentwood Press. Snow is married to her high school crush, has a set of silly twin boys and a bobtail cat named Meow-Meow. Molly Snow also co-writes mysteries under her pseudonym Claire Kane.

Twitter: molly_snow







Thursday, December 26, 2013

Christmas at the Gingerbread Cafe Tour, Excerpt & Giveaway!

Christmas at the Gingerbread Cafe
Rebecca Raisin

Genre: Contemporary Romance

Publisher: Carina UK (Harlequin)

Date of Publication:  November 12th 2013

ASIN: B00GBZ3YD8

Number of pages: 52
Word Count: 17, 750

Cover Artist: Carina UK

Amazon US             Amazon UK
   
Book Description:

Christmas is the season the Gingerbread Café was made for…but owner Lily couldn’t be feeling less merry if she tried. She’s spent another year dreaming of being whisked away on a sleigh-ride for two, but she’s facing festive season alone – again. And, just to give her another reason to feel anything other than candy-cane perky, a new shop across the road has opened… Not only is it selling baked goods, but the owner, with his seriously charming smile, has every girl in town swooning.

But Lily isn’t about to let her business crumble — the Gingerbread Café is the heart of the community, and she’s going to fight for it! This could be the Christmas that maybe, just maybe, all her dreams – even the someone-to-decorate-the-Christmas-tree-with ones – really do come true!

Excerpt
Chapter one:
Amazing Grace blares out from the speakers above me, and I cry, not delicate, pretty tears, but great big heaves that will puff up my eyes, like a blowfish. That song touches me, always has, always will. With one hand jammed well and truly up the turkey’s behind I sing those mellifluous words as if I’m preaching to a choir. Careful, so my tears don’t swamp the damn bird, I grab another handful of aromatic stuffing. My secret recipe: a mix of pork sausage, pecans, cranberries and crumbled corn bread. Punchy flavors that will seep into the flesh and make your heart sing. The song reaches its crescendo, and my tears turn into a fully-fledged blubber-fest. The doorbell jangles and I realize I can’t wipe my face with my messy hands. Frantic, I try and compose myself as best I can.
“Jesus Mother o’ Mary, ain’t no customers comin’ in here with this kinda carry-on! It’s been two years since that damn fool left you. When you gonna move on, my sweet cherry blossom?”
CeeCee. My only employee at the Gingerbread Café, a big, round, southern black woman, who tells it like it is. Older than me by a couple of decades, more like a second mother than anything. Bless her heart.
“Oh, yeah?” I retort. “How are you expecting me to move on? I still love the man.”
“He ain’t no man. A man wouldn’t never cheat on his wife. He’s a boy, playing at being a man.”
“You’re right there.” Still, it’s been two lonely years, and I ache for him. There’s no accounting for what the heart feels. I’m heading towards the pointy end of my twenties. By now, I should be raising babies like all the other girls in town, not baking gingerbread families in lieu of the real thing.
I’m distracted from my heartbreak by CeeCee cackling like a witch. She puts her hands on her hips, which are hidden by the dense parka she wears, and doubles over. While she’s hooting and hollering, I stare, unsure of what’s so damn amusing. “Are you finished?” I ask, arching my eyebrows.
This starts her off again, and she’s leg slapping, cawing, the whole shebang.
“It’s just…” She looks at me, and wipes her weeping eyes. “You look a sight. Your hand shoved so far up the rear of that turkey, like you looking for the meaning of life, your boohooing, this sad old music. Golly.”
“This is your music, CeeCee. Your gospel CD.”
She colors. “I knew that. It’s truly beautiful, beautiful, it is.”
“Thought you might say that.” I grin back. CeeCee’s church is the most important thing in her life, aside from her family, and me.
“Where we up to?” she says, taking off her parka, which is dusted white from snow. Carefully, she shakes the flakes into the sink before hanging her jacket on the coat rack by the fire.
“I’m stuffing these birds, and hoping to God someone’s going to buy them. Where’s the rush? Two and a bit weeks before Christmas we’re usually run off our feet.”
CeeCee wraps an apron around her plump frame. “It’ll happen, Lil. Maybe everyone’s just starting a little later this year, is all.” She shrugs, and goes to the sink to wash her hands.



About the Author:

 Rebecca Raisin is a true bibliophile.
This love of books morphed into the desire to write them. She’s been widely published in various short story anthologies, and in fiction magazines, and is now focusing on writing romance. The only downfall about writing about gorgeous men who have brains as well as brawn, is falling in love with them – just as well they’re fictional. Rebecca aims to write characters you can see yourself being friends with. People with big hearts who care about relationships, and most importantly, believe in true love.