Saturday, October 4, 2014

Seize Me From Darkness Blitz, Excerpt & Giveaway!

Seize me From Darkness
Cari Silverwood
(Pierced Hearts #4) - Can be read as a STANDALONE!
Publication date: September 23rd 2014
Genres: Erotica, Romance


This book is part of a dark erotic fiction series and may disturb some readers.

In this dirty, bloody world we live in, the answers to prayers aren’t always pretty angels.

Retaken by human traffickers, Jazmine’s one hope is ex-cop, ex-mercenary, Pieter, a man with a glower that stops lesser men in their tracks.

She prays he can save her.

But this savior is far from perfect and his flaws may prove as devastating to Jazmine as the torture of her captors.

The fire of dominance never dies.




There were days I wanted to be so close with Pieter that our skin would merge. He was big, powerful, a rock of serenity in the middle of this mad place. Then there were days I’d look at him and remember what he’d done, how good he was at killing, and I’d recognize my previous foolishness.
He didn’t understand how most every little thing he told me about himself was reinforcing my fear of him.
I didn’t understand why he could nevertheless make me catch my breath when he stripped off for a shower. Or like now, when he’d looked at me through those dangling untidy dark locks while doing push-ups. With his... fucking shirt off. Swallow thy tongue. The little octopus on the back of his shoulder gleamed and writhed as his muscles slid.
Yep. He affected me not at all. Trying not to look hot and flushed, I shifted my legs and stared at the paintwork instead.
Pieter was my own private tiger and I was locked in the cage with him.
Drooling at men wasn’t new. Having a thrill run through me at the potential for a man to grab me and do something unexpected to me – that was new.


Cari Silverwood is a New York Times and USA Today bestselling writer of kinky darkness or sometimes of dark kinkiness, depending on her moods and the amount of time she's spent staring into the night. She has an ornery nature as well as a lethal curiosity that makes her want to upend plots and see what falls out when you shake them.

When others are writing bad men doing bad things you may find her writing good men who accidentally on purpose fall into the abyss and come out with their morals twisted in knots.

This might be because she comes from the land down under, Australia, or it could be her excessive consumption of wine.

Freaking out readers is her first love and her second love is freaking out the people living in her books. Her favorite hobby is convincing people she has a basement...though she really doesn't. Promise. If it existed it would be a terrifying place where you would find all the dangerous things that you never knew you craved.

Own me Until Forever, Book 5 in the Pierced Hearts series, will be out late 2014

My website, if you're curious about my other evil pursuits:

To find out about upcoming releases, please join Cari's mailing list here

Author links:

Friday, October 3, 2014

Shifting Currents Tour, Excerpt & Giveaway!

Shifting Currents
Lissa Trevor

Genre: Erotic Paranormal

Publisher: LooseID

eISBN - 9781623001667

Number of pages: 191
Word Count: 60,000

Cover Artist: April Martinez

Book Description:

After the meteorite wiped out civilization and most of the population, it took thirty years to scrabble together rudiments of society again. Sex is the main currency, for those who haven’t mutated special abilities.

Bethany, a Tech, is able to channel electricity through her body and charge up electronics. When she saves a Shifter girl about to be sold at auction, the girl’s brother, Lucas, offers to repay the debt with his body. While Bethany would love to have Lucas at her beck and call, she’d rather have sex with someone who wanted her as a partner instead of an obligation. But unable to resist the sexy Shifter, she agrees to his terms.

When an opportunity presents itself to travel cross the ravaged countryside to loot the remains of California, Bethany believes this is the best chance for her to find her own brother, a rogue Shifter on the run for a crime he didn’t commit. Lucas wants to go, too, to free his Shifter pack.

The caravan members are expected to provide sexual services to the owners in exchange for passage out and back. As the lines between pleasure and payment become blurred, Bethany struggles to remain human while the pull of the energy feels good enough to leave her meat sack body behind. Can Lucas learn to ground her against the shifting currents?

Available at Loose ID  Amazon  BN  iTunes Kobo


Bethany Macgregor searched the airwaves until she found a funeral dirge that was used hundreds of years before the meteorite hit. She let the heavy organ music wash over her through her tiny headphones. Keith was getting married today. Leaning against the wooden post, she felt the crisp air like a sympathetic caress on her face and neck. She focused on the livestock being sold in the pen across from her and let the smell of nature take her mind off her loneliness.
“Shouldn’t you be over at the looters’ tents?” Maya, her tribe’s chief, walked up to her and put a hand on her shoulder.
Bethany tried not to flinch, and Maya removed her hand. Bethany sighed, popped out an earbud for politeness’ sake. “I did a quick walk by. There’s nothing that can’t wait until the last day of conclave when the prices drop because the dealer doesn’t want to pack it up for the long schlep back home.” And because the silence was starting to get awkward, Bethany added, “Shouldn’t you be attending some back-slapping meeting in the main cabin?” Or having a “massage” in your cabin with someone who wanted a favor?
Maya snorted. “Backstabbing, you mean. No, we’re on our morning break. And I decided to breathe in the fresh smell of horse manure to clear my lungs.”
Bethany managed a wry smile. Maya was fifty years old and the oldest one in their tribe on the bluff. She had been twenty-one when the meteorite hit the world and knocked everyone back to the Jurassic period. Well, probably better than the Jurassic period. Then, all the dinosaurs had died whereas this time a few tough humans and animals survived. And of course the cockroaches, but Bethany hadn’t seen one of those since she left the part of Florida that was still above water to go up north where the Tech was strongest. Maya had gathered together the Bluff tribe with a shrewd sense of purpose and snapped Bethany up as soon as she entered the territory.
“Keith’s doing a good thing. We need another potter since we lost Angie to the Three Rivers tribe last year,” Maya said.
Bethany nodded. It was important to have the right mixture of artisans, farmers, and tradesmen to survive in today’s world.
“Lem has volunteered to share your bed, if you’re interested.”
Bethany’s stomach curled. Lem had already made that offer, and it was apparent he was only doing what Maya told him to do. Trying to keep the anger out of her voice, Bethany said, “I’m not going to switch tribes over Keith’s marriage. The Bluffs are my home. You can tell Lem he’s off the hook.”
“It’s not like that,” Maya said but cut off when Bethany turned away and put the earbud back in.
The wind picked up a bit, and stray bits of energy lit up the portable media player in her hand. Pain jabbed into her temple, like a screwdriver had been jammed into it. Bethany exhaled through the agony that turned her vision red, and pressed the center button on the device. Maya watched fascinated, as always, when the menu came up, and Bethany scrolled down to Alanis Morrisette’s “You Oughta Know.”
“Just don’t go flaunting that Tech. You don’t have to be willing if another tribe gets it in their mind to snatch you from us.”
Bethany just turned the music up loud to match the pounding in her head that channeling the energy to run the device gave her. Maya went away after one last longing look at the portable media player. Letting the angry song fill her, Bethany rolled her neck to get the kinks out of it and sat down with her eyes closed, helping her body deal with the intensity of pulling in the energy. If she had done it gradually, the pain wouldn’t have been that wretched, but she didn’t want easy or slow. The pain was cleansing, wiping away a little of the self-pity she was feeling. When the song was over, Bethany let the energy go with a sigh and a silent thanks. Getting up, she felt eyes on her, and she looked around. The tribes were socializing, chattering happily about the things they were going to trade.
She lovingly put the portable media player back into her pocket. She had traded a looter her ham radio setup for it. Bethany didn’t like hearing all the voices crying out in the darkness. Although on cold, lonely nights it was a comfort to realize the world was still going on and her tribe wasn’t the last people on Earth. Most of California and Florida had sunk into the oceans. Mount St. Helens and all of the Alaskan volcanoes had erupted, adding to the chaos. In a second after the meteor hit in Russia, worldwide communications dropped. If Europe was even still there, no one on this side of the Atlantic knew. There hadn’t been any contact outside the United States for the past thirty years. There were rumors, but nothing verified. And in the interim, strange and different creatures evolved. Bethany was one of them.
“You look lovely.”
Bethany glanced up at Keith’s voice, but he wasn’t talking to her. She watched her ex-lover, tall and handsome in a rough-and-ready sort of way, lean down and kiss his almost-bride on the cheek. They were strolling around the market, hand in hand, not a care in the world.
Darting into a tent, Bethany clenched her teeth as sharp jealousy drilled into her. It didn’t have the purity of the energy pull. It was aching like a bad tooth. She willed herself not to cry. It should have just been a marriage of convenience. A way to bring the River tribe and the Bluff tribe together. Keith had told her so. In bed. Several times. It didn’t look like it was convenient. In fact, it looked a lot like love. Bethany listened to the vendor’s spiel since he was kind enough not to notice her bright eyes or quivering lips. She was so grateful for the time it gave her to pull it together that she wound up trading a set of charged batteries for one of his canteens filled with a sweet honey mead before leaving his tent.
Blinking the tears away, she pretended they were from looking up at the sun that was muted from the ash still in the atmosphere. A flutter of wings caught her eye. A brown eagle perched on the tree next to her. It looked at her like she was a mouse. Intelligent yellow eyes regarded her intently. It was a magnificent bird, beautiful feathers and a regal look. Big too, she saw as it spread its wings and folded them back to preen. Bethany bowed her head, feeling ridiculous at her awe of the noble bird who continued to survive in such a desolate world. It would have been born amid the chaos, like she had been.
Today wasn’t the first time she had seen it. Or at least one that looked just like it. Up on the bluffs, she’d sensed eyes on her and looked around only to see an eagle observing silently. She had gotten used to it, tried to tempt it closer with bits of meat, but it disdained her attempts at domestication. Still, when she walked in the woods, the bird wasn’t ever far. Not for the first time, Bethany wondered if it was a Shifter. She had given it plenty of time to shift in front of her, often dillydallying in the brush far from camp, hoping the bird would transform.
The truth was she had been lonely even when she and Keith were together. The tribe needed her, wanted the Tech she could provide. But they never fully accepted her because she wasn’t normal. Dinners were a stilted affair, and social events strained, so Bethany learned just to avoid them. Walking alone in the woods, she pretended the animals in the woods were companions, like she had done when she was a little girl. It was a game her brother, Daniel, had taught her, before he went feral and killed all those people.
“I’ve got to stop this, or I’ll be a sniveling wreck,” she told the bird, but the eagle wasn’t looking at her. She followed its inscrutable golden eyes to the next animal up for auction.

About the Author:

Lissa Trevor has her stilettos firmly entrenched in the romance community. Spank Me Mr. Darcy is her debut novel from Riverdale Avenue Books. She is a frequent reader at Manhattan's Between The Covers events, where her novellas Wild Oats and Timelash from Coliloquy's Entwined volumes 1 & 2 have been very popular. Lissa also created an erotic story template for Coliloquy's ValEntwined promotion that allowed readers to download a personalized ebook starring themselves and their significant other.


Base Branch Series Blitz, Excerpt & Giveaway!

Base Branch Series 
Megan Mitcham
Genres: Adult, Romance, Suspense


When friends become enemies and enemies become lovers.

Born in the blood of Sierra Leone’s Civil War, enslaved, then sold to the US as an orphan, Base Branch operative, Sloan Harris is emotionally dead and driven by vengeance. With no soul to give, her body becomes the bargaining chip to infiltrate a warlord’s inner circle, the man called The Devil who killed her family and helped destroy a region.

As son of the warlord, Baine Kendrick will happily use Sloan’s body, if it expedites his father’s demise. Yet, he is wholly unprepared for the possessive and protective emotions she provokes. Maybe it’s the flashes of memory. Two forgotten children drawing in the dirt beneath the boabab tree. But he fears there is more at stake than his life.

In the Devil’s den with Baine by her side, Sloan braves certain death and discovers a spirit for living.


For justice. For country. For love.

After witnessing her friend’s sexual assault, seven year senior, Magdalena Wells escapes an attack with a few bruises and a thousand questions. As a journalist in practice, if not in pay, Mags vows to utilize the skills she mastered in the Democratic Republic of Congo and answer every single one, just as soon as she gets the hell out of town.

Law Pierce’s aim is rest and relaxation after two years undercover in South Africa on an extended Base Branch mission, but restlessness puts him in trouble’s path. As a servant of justice, Law will do everything in his power to keep trouble safe. The fact that trouble’s petite stature and luscious curves stir his every primal instinct is a massive inconvenience he struggles to ignore.

Together Magdalena and Law uncover a web of corruption and dirty lies that could set their country’s top official ablaze, if the inferno doesn’t consume them first.


One takes control. One finds balance in letting go.

Base Branch operative, Ryan Noble is accustomed to taking orders whether from his commander or his overbearing mother. His best friend urged him to take control of his life, but the only thing worse than an angry woman is a teary one. He has no desire to upset his mother’s fragile emotions. Losing his sister was hard enough, his mom couldn’t bear losing another child. Even if it is to the other side of D.C. It’s a damn good thing she doesn’t know what he does for a living.

On a routine mission to destroy a cargo free human trafficking facility and exterminate it’s operators, Ryan blows his extraction to rescue a woman he finds chained inside.

Piper Vega is caught between metal and a hard place. She needs information and it has taken far too long to cull it from her leads, also known as her captors. She finally has the facts she needs to complete her task, but it’ll take a miracle to set her free and see it achieved. Santo Padre knows she never expected her good favor to come in the form of a man.

Ryan takes the reins of life in his sturdy grip while Piper discovers balance in loosening hers. Through intense battles of will, both find the unexpected.



Excerpt 1 - Enemy Mine (Book 1)

        The moment Sloan crossed the threshold into the sitting room all eyes were on her. Not in the, “Wow, she looks so good,” way, but in the, “Oh, she just stumbled on the high wire,” way. Lana perched on the edge of a settee next to Devereaux, legs crossed, leaning toward him, but her eyes sparkled with interest in Sloan’s direction. She, and the other ladies in the room, awaited her fall.
            The Devil, busy tapping the display of his phone, paid her no attention. So, Sloan smiled sweetly and nodded to Lana like a good little escort. The damn butler stood next to the dining room door all prim and proper, waiting to be called upon.
            Yeah right.
            Kobi had yet to arrive, but her real problem leaned against the frame of the French doors studying her.
            Sloan knew how to take a hit. It was second nature for her to roll a shoulder, step back, block, weave, or absorb the force and use the momentum to throw her attacker off balance. Yet, there was nothing she could do to stave off the impact of Baine’s steady gaze. He looked at her and saw...everything. Like every secret she harbored, every hope and fear, were unveiled for his eyes alone.
            She huffed out a breath at the idiocy of the notion, but still struggled to discredit it. Especially when he beckoned her with the slightest nod of his head. As she steadied her quivering nerves with bold steps in his direction, she examined him, looking for any signs of weapons or weakness.
            His most prominent weapons called her attention first. Hooded by dark lashes, Baine’s blue eyes glinted in the final shreds of daylight. A fine suit matching the color of his dark hair covered his body and nearly hid the butts of two handguns nestled below his shoulders. Thighs about the diameter of her waist fit easily in his slacks and revealed no trace of a holster. Not that she discounted the probability he had one or two somewhere on his lower half. The scruff on his chin had turned into the makings of a close-cropped beard, and she discounted its significance...right up until she was forced to swallow the saliva that had pooled in her mouth.
            The man was a weapon. Finely honed with little to no weakness about him. Not a lawyer. Not a friend. 
            “You look stunning,” he said when the toes of her heels were only a few feet away from his surely custom dress shoes.
            “You don’t look stunned to me,” she replied, searching his face for any reaction.
            The corner of his mouth quirked. “Good. I can’t give you any advantage over me.”
            “Why not?”
            He scanned the room before returning to her, then said in a quiet rumble, “When I answer, keep in mind where we are.”
            Confusion furrowed her brow. Caution told her to back away. Curiosity kept her in place. “Okay?”
            He waved the butler over and placed his empty glass on the tray he carried. “Scotch. Straight.”
            Lawrence nodded. “Anything for you, miss?”
            Sloan cleared her throat before she was able to speak, suspense and irritation having tightened it. “No, thank you.”
            The butler winked at her playfully before turning away from them.
            Baine ripped her gaze from the butler’s back by settling his hands on either side of her neck. Heat radiated from his big palms to the pads of each finger and sent what should have been a warning alert, but instead launched a pang of desire to her belly. He gathered her hair in his hands. The weight of it lifted from her chest and back for a moment before he settled it, running his hands down the back of her neck and spine to her tail bone. The motion pulled her to him. Her head automatically snuggled into the hollow of his neck, as he cupped her ass and pulled her closer still.
            A hint of cologne and sex shot up her nose. Like the cocaine she’d been offered the previous night, his scent was a drug she’d best let alone. She exhaled him slowly, trying not to savor him or dread the room’s plain air she tilted up to inhale. Before she had a moment to lament, his teeth nipped a trail up her neck.
            When he reached her lobe his lips enveloped it, diamond and all. She bit down on a moan. He removed the grip she hadn’t realized she had on his coat and kept her hands burrowed in his, not giving an inch of space between them.
            “I wouldn’t have expected such an honest reaction from an undercover Branch Agent.”
            As every muscle in Sloan’s body went taut, Baine’s grip tightened on her hands. Not painfully so. Just enough to pull her back from the edge of sanity. Back from pulling her knife and going to work on everyone in the room she could get to before she got blown to bits.
            “Relax,” he whispered. “I don't want to fight you. I watched you take out Bull in D.C. and I know how handy you are with a knife.”
            His lips grazed her cheek, and then he was there, resting his forehead on hers. Those deep blue eyes exploring hers.
            “So,” he added, “do us both a favor and keep that purse tucked under your arm.”
            He released her hands and straightened, her gaze now level with his throat. Sloan stood stunned like a piece of petrified wood. How in the fuck did he know she was a Branch Agent? Even Branch Agents didn’t know all of the other Branch Agents. She wasn’t one for profanities, but if ever a situation called for one or a hundred…
            Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.
            His lips spread into a thin smile and he leaned closer. “It takes brass balls to stand there after that kind of blow. I’m impressed.”
            She smiled back, mirthlessly. “Don’t be. It doesn’t take balls when you’re a person with nothing to lose.”
            Baine’s brow pinched and his smile faded. “That’s unfortunate, because I need you to have a bit of self-preservation, if we’re going to make it through this week.”

Excerpt 1 - Enemy Mine (Book 1)

        In defiance, Kobi’s hand bit into Sloan’s chin and he wrenched it up. Before Sloan had a chance to remind herself not to react, Baine’s arm shot out. A choking sound gurgled in Kobi’s throat as Baine’s hand encircled the column of the man’s neck. Kobi’s eyes widened. His hands flew to Baine’s wrist. He struggled to wrench the hand away. The heels of his shoes heaved against the ground and his body bucked.
            “If you want to continue breathing, I suggest you take the redhead and be on your merry way.” With that Baine released his grip.
            Kobi stumbled back, heaving in air. Nena placed a steadying hand on his shoulder and he slapped it away. The look on his face oscillated between embarrassment and pure hatred as he stomped past them, the other quirk-browed women, and then through the back gate.
            Baine grabbed her hand and pulled Sloan off the lounger, not giving her time to collect her covering as it loosened in the upheaval. He moved with authority. Chin up. Shoulders back. He aimed for the manor, drawing her behind him. The towel fell, entwined her legs and pitched her off balance. Still, he refused to slow. To keep from meeting the stone pavers with her face, Sloan yielded her grip on the fabric.
            Through the threshold of the rear entrance, he spun on her. His wide chest crowded her in, until her back met the cold wall. Sloan had no idea what to say or do. So, she kept her mouth shut. Had the whole scene been a tiny turf war between the two men? It was the most logical explanation. But Baine regarded her now with nearly as much hostility as he’d forced upon Kobi. His dark expression made the young girl inside her vanish and the warrior surge forward, smacking a fist to her armored chest.
            But, just as swiftly, her inner warrior stumbled.
            The palm of his hand glided over the slope of her chin, warming the abused skin. His thumb scrubbed over her lips. Once. Twice. The rough pad of his finger stung her sensitive flesh again. Then he inclined his head. Baine’s face hovered so close to hers stubble rasped her cheek. Sloan breathed him in on a gasp. Her head spun from the redolence.
            He stilled for a moment, save for his breathing, which seemed almost pained, the inhale and exhale ragged. His hand slid up the nape of her neck. His fingers wove in her hair and tugged. Unwilling to fight him, her chin raised to meet his gaze, which honed in on her mouth.
            His lips covered hers. The pressure of him was unrelenting. He pulled her in to the kiss with his hand and pinned her to the wall with his body. Warmth engulfed her. From the tips of her lips to the soles of her feet, the chill she’d harbored earlier scorched in Baine’s onslaught. This was no embrace. It was an out and out attack on the tiny space inside her mind where things made sense. Where everything was good versus bad. Black and white. In this space she was a tool for justice and Baine was part and parcel with the enemy. No matter their youthful friendship. No matter how good his mouth tasted.
            And Lord, if sin had a taste she’d found it.
            His thick lips parted then bracketed her lower lip. Balmy wetness soothed her sensitive skin, but enlivened a nature she had no idea existed inside her. A need so carnal and base screamed to life. Unbidden, Sloan’s hands groped Baine’s hot, hard lats. To her shame, she did not push him away, but held him in place while her body arched against his.
            Her lips muffled his curse an instant before his other hand smoothed over the length of her neck. Where his grip on Kobi had meant to harm the other man, it only tormented Sloan, hovering just above her heaving breasts. Her whole body tingled with awareness, but not in the usual way. This had nothing to do with tactics and everything to do with yearning.
            A moan of anguish or desire—of which, she couldn’t be entirely sure—breeched her lips. His other hand, which had been still at his side, ran up her thigh. The roughness of his palm heated her from the inside out. Baine’s fingers bit into the bare bottom revealed by the bathing suit. In response her body quickened, nipples tightening, core clenching.
            “Ahem. Might I offer you some towels? You look a bit wet.”
            Again Baine cursed. This time, however, the words came through loud and clear. He growled it out as he broke the kiss. With one hand he held her to the wall while he created a gap between them. The sudden withdrawal served the same purpose as a bucket of ice water. In less than a second the world around her refocused.
            Behind Baine, Lawrence, the butler, stood, a pile of towels balanced neatly in his hand. The set of his mouth almost disguised his mirth, but the sparkle in his blue eyes gave him away. Once again, Sloan was intrigued by Lawrence’s stealth and uncanny timing, but before she could attempt to figure the man out, Baine turned on him.

            He snatched a towel from the pile. “That’ll be all.”

Excerpt 1 - Justice Mine (Book 2)

        Instead of knocking, Mags fished her keys out of the depths of her tote and let herself inside. Maybe she could sneak in like old times and avoid a proper dressing down. She slipped through the door and fastened it behind her. She turned to tiptoe through the warmly decorated living room, but abruptly teetered. Something metal caught the toe of her sandal and upended her world, yet again. Metal clacked and clattered around her body as she landed hard on…she didn’t know what the fuck it was, but it hurt. Heavy footfalls thudded down the stairs in a rapid beat. And instantly her heart revved a notch.
            Easton Wells, her dad, didn’t get in a rush about anything, and he was a slender fellow. Not nearly as big as the thunder rumbling in her direction. Though her pulse ratcheted with each closing step, Mags’ brain kicked into gear after the tilt-a-whirl ride of the evening and she sighed in relief. Baine. Her brother was that big, but why in the world would he be in her father’s house?
            Still weary, Mags scrambled to her hands and knees. At least, she tried. Tubular metal polls rolled under her palm, caught the edge of the bag on her arm, and sent her sprawling again.
            “What the hell,” a deep baritone boomed. Not Baine. Baine’s voice was similarly bass, but this one held a rough quality that quaked its way down her spine. 
            “Dad,” she screamed with every bit of air she held in her lungs. What had he done to her dad? Who was he? What did he want? That fucking weasel from the apartment…he’d held true to his word and worked too damn fast…
            A big hand clamped around her upper arm and pulled. Magdalena let the tote slip from her opposite shoulder as the behemoth hoisted her from the floor, and then balled her fist and rammed. She looked past the wide expanse of his bare chest and aimed for his throat, like Baine had shown her.
            Before she could blink, he had her restrained. Thick arms coiled around her chest and arms as he pinned her to his body. Her face burrowed into a valley of muscle while her breasts smashed against the rippled tract of his abdomen. Heat radiated from the man, warming every inch of her exposed skin from brow to ankle. He touched her everywhere. Encompassed her completely.
            Panic seized her as stories of sexual violation flooded her memory from the interviews she’d taken from Goma to Bunia. Now she’d have her own story, if she survived. Her arms and legs flailed of their own volition in a primal struggle for freedom. For life.
            “Magdalena, calm down.” His voice brooked no argument. And damn her body, but it obeyed, going rigid as a board.
            “How do you know my name? Where’s my father? Who are you? What do you want?” The questions, jumbled from her addled brain, fell out of her mouth in a breathless line of inquiry.
            “Baine said you asked lots of questions.”
            At the mention of her brother’s name she sagged into the man, completely spent. He accepted her weight without the slightest sway of his stance. On a pivot he leaned over her. Embarrassed and absolutely confused, Magdalena hid her face in the hard ridge of his chest as he hooked one arm behind her knees and collected her in his hold.
            “What are—" Her question was a whisper he cut off with that rugged voice of his.
            “No more questions. I’m still processing the last interrogation. You’d think you were a reporter or something.”
            “College student,” he shot back.
            Mags hated the smile that curved one side of her mouth because she didn’t understand it at all. Nor could she comprehend why the sweaty musk of his skin made her want to lap it clean with her tongue.

Excerpt 2 - Justice Mine (Book 2)

        “Reckless. Wild. Completely out of control. It makes me a little queasy. It makes my hands shake and my insides quiver. Like I may have a heart attack at any moment.”
            “Well, tart, get used to it. Lord knows I’ve had to.”
            Her upper lip did an Elvis curl. “Why would you ride the thing, if it makes you feel that way?”
            He winked at her and reached for her hand. Magdalena set her palm against his. When he tugged she climbed onto the back of the motorcycle. Her thighs snuggled his ass and her arms wrapped around the leather jacket he sweated to death inside of and held on loosely, careful not to aggravate the raw knife wound.

            Law shifted in the seat, offering her the helmet she hated so dearly. “I wasn’t talking about the bike, tart. I was referring to you.”

Excerpt 1 - Stranger Mine (Book 3)

        “Piper, regular sex is mundane. Mediocre at best.” He shrugged.
            “Maybe you just haven’t done it with the right person.” She inhaled, stuffing her lungs full of his masculine scent, and enjoyed the hit. Like a pothead discovering crystal meth, she was hooked. Whether she liked it or not.
            “No doubt. But what I’m talking about, if done right, blows regular sex out of the water every single time.”
            “What makes you think you can do it right?”
            “I can’t.” Ryan’s thumb mimicked the earlier caress over her left cheek. “We could.” He placed the pad between his lips and sucked off the moisture. ”It’s a trust so absolute I could aim a gun to your head. Smile. Pull the trigger. Kill the man sneaking up behind you. And all the while you’d smile back at me. Never for an instant believing I could harm a strand of your hair. An inch of your skin. A piece of your heart.”

Excerpt 2 - Stranger Mine (Book 3)

        “My life? Since when do you think you have authority over my life?” The anger boiled inside her, breaching her high walls, and obliterating sane thought. Ryan wasn’t to blame, but he was the only one in easy reach. “You’re a fun fuck, but you don’t control me. Even the sex has been more trouble than it’s worth.”
            “Stop.” Ryan stood, blocking her path to the bathroom or the exit. “You’re mad and I can handle it. But you’re going to regret this.”
            “I already do.” She planted both hands on his chest and shoved. Nothing happened. “Goddammit!” She sagged to the floor, but his strong arms wrapped around her and lowered them both to the rough carpet. She stared into his tense face, those lighter-than-sky blue eyes. “I’m losing my mind…”

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Megan was born and raised among the live oaks and shrimp boats of the Mississippi Gulf Coast, where her enormous family still calls home. She attended college at the University of Southern Mississippi where she received a bachelor's degree in curriculum, instruction, and special education. For several years Megan worked as a teacher in Mississippi. She married and moved to South Carolina and worked for an international non-profit organization as an instructor and co-director.

In 2009 Megan fell in love with books. Until then, books had been a source for research or the topic of tests. But one day she read Mercy by Julie Garwood. And Oh Mercy, she was hooked!

Megan lives in Southern Arkansas where she pens sizzling suspense novels.

Author Links:

Thursday, October 2, 2014

Devoted Tour, Excerpt & Giveaway!

Angel Academy 
Volume 1
Emery Skye

Genre: Young Adult Fantasy

Publisher: LemonPress Publishiing

Date of Publication: August 20, 2014

ISBN: 1936617250

Number of pages: 388
Word Count: 96K

Cover Artist: Tamara Sands   

Book Description:

“Her world, her mission…is about to change. What do you choose when your blood is on the line?”

A world where your life is a mission and to succeed you must have resolute devotion to duty.

Seventeen-year-old Anna Hasdiel is a noviate at Hope Academy, a secret school for young angels where she and her sister, Amalie, train to become Warrior Legites with the duty of protecting humans from Demons for the Legion United.

Anna's devoted to the angelic cause.

She's always known she would be a Warrior for the Legion. Her world is about to change.

Noviates have been disappearing from Angel Academies around the world. No one knows why. They just hope they won’t be next.
The Powers send in Legite Nathaniel Deror for protection. Legite Deror is strong, fierce and mysterious. He seems to have it in for Anna one second and the next he’s rescuing her. He makes her feel things she shouldn’t.

They must travel to the home of the fallen Archangel Lucifer, where they will fight past a host of deadly enemies. Where do loyalties lay?

 She never planned for this. She never planned for him.


Amalie stood off to the side in a royal blue long-sleeved blouse and faded skinny jeans tucked into a pair of dark grey rider boots. She stuck out big time. Two boys were standing by her sides. I rolled my eyes. My sweet, little sister doubled as a serious guy magnet.

She smiled when our eyes connected. I smiled back before taking a deep breath and mentally gearing up for the fight to come. Everyone may as well have disappeared. They didn’t matter. Not right now.

“Miss. Hasdiel, did you study the blocking moves?” Deror asked, knowing I had.

“Yes, Legite,” I was sullen. Everyone had gotten into the rhythm of me being chosen. Erick gave me a reassuring nudge as I stepped out of line and joined Deror on the mat.

“Good. Are you ready?” He knew I was.

He took the ready stance and I took the self-defense stance.

Another Warrior, I didn’t bother looking at said, “Begin.”

He threw the first punch. I almost fell, but I stopped his fist from connecting with my face. I became his personal punching bag in these exercises.

“Very good.” He was starting off easy. My teeth ground together.

Everyone knew it. I even think I heard Taylor feign a yawn. God, she could be so irritating.

He came at me with a downward sweeping elbow strike. I listened to the whistle as his arm cut through the air like a knife. I pulled back, surprised, nearly tripping over my feet in the process. The elbow strike was a more advanced move than we’d been working on. He was showing off for his legites. There was a snarky glimmer in his eye. The gold hues melted against the green in his eyes. I squinted, angry. He looked more amused. Or was it something else? I wasn't sure.

The last week had been a total mind-fuck, my body quaked with anger and bits of red fingered my vision. Yep, it was happening again. Red.

I executed a perfect, I mean, perfect, high block and came back with an upper body counter attack that would’ve made a ninja jealous.

I knew I should only be blocking, but I was done! A fire burned in my belly, my blood boiled. I'd had enough. He knew it. He made me look weak on a daily basis. He told me how green I was; how I had no control. I was inexperienced.

Was he right? Probably.

But I was going to prove him wrong even if it killed me.

He turned and executed a perfect stepping back kick. I countered with an inside block. His body pounded against mine.

I changed tactics. Jab punch. He blocked it easily. He looked smug. Cocky jackass. I wasn’t going to let him get off that easy. Sweat drenched my hairline. Front roundhouse kick to his chest. He wasn’t prepared for a kick. I could see it in his eyes. We'd been restricted to upper-body maneuvers in class, but I was capable of so much more.

I attacked with a mid-elbow strike to the stomach. I could see the pain in his perfect almond shaped eyes. We danced a while longer. We fought like a thunderstorm raged inside us. Each one blocking, dodging, and throwing punches. The strikes traveled from his legs, arms, head, and hands. Some happened singularly, others with seconds between them. The lightening was accompanied by sweat raining off us. My legs and lungs burned white-hot with the effort. My arms were starting to feel like boiled pasta. He executed a high downward hammer fist to my nose. I blocked him, but not effectively. The guy had eight inches on me. My jaw hurt. My lip bled. I ignored it. He'd drawn first blood. That galled. Blood was the goal. I had combat lust. He suddenly stopped, concerned. He came at me slowly, incautiously.

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About the Author:

Gemini Emery is a horse trainer living in Colorado with two yappy dogs and a few quirky horses.

She graduated from Regis University with a BS in Business Administration and a minor in philosophy.

A life-long reader, Emery has always had a special affection for the urban fantasy and paranormal romance realms.

When not riding horses or writing, she likes archery, hiking and shooting. She reads until her vision blurs, spends time with family and drinks an excessive amount of chai and coffee.

Devoted is her first novel.