Saturday, September 19, 2015

Salvaged Soul blitz, Excerpt & Giveaway!

Salvaged Soul 
Desni Dantone
(Ignited Series #3)
Publication date: September 19th 2015
Genres: Mythology, Urban Fantasy, Young Adult


Life in paradise isn’t exactly what Kris thought it would be. Treated like a prisoner and forced to keep her romance with Nathan hidden, she struggles to adapt to island life with the Kala. Worse, her specialties are coming in faster than she can control, and she fears the Skotadi within her will soon win the battle for her soul. Her only hope is to embrace her Incantation lineage, master the skills she’s supposed to have, and free herself of her destiny. If only she could figure out how to do it…

The ghosts of Nathan’s past still inhabit the island. Adapting to the Kala way of life again is something he will grudgingly accept, as long as they agree to help Kris. But falling back into the Kala system means being a Kala soldier, and when the gods ask for help, he cannot refuse. Sent around the world on a mission, he faces new dangers and stumbles upon a startling discovery that could change everything…

Together, they face their biggest hurdle yet and put their relationship to the ultimate test. When old temptations arise, new enemies emerge, and emotions run high, can their love survive?

From Amazon’s bestselling author, Desni Dantone, comes the third installment of The Ignited Series, where the danger is real, the stakes are higher, and nothing is as it seems. Continue the journey with Kris, Nathan, Alec, and Callie as they discover that when friends become enemies, enemies become friends, and the battles lines between good and evil blur, choosing the right side isn’t always easy.




Kris’s face scrunched up, and eventually broke into a smile. “Are you asking me out on a date right now? Because if you are, you’re seriously bad at it.”
“Give me a break. I haven’t done this in a long time.”
I finally pushed away from the dresser. As I angled closer to Kris, her teeth caught her bottom lip. It was a nervous habit, but oh, my God. Something in me came unhinged at the sight, and I had to remind myself to behave. But then her tongue flicked across her lips—a move so quick I wouldn’t have noticed if I weren’t staring at them—and I knew there wasn’t a chance in hell I would be able to keep my hands off of her now.
“I may be bad at the asking part,” I said, lifting my gaze from her mouth to her eyes. “But what I’m good at more than makes up for it.”  
I reveled in the fact that sometimes I managed to make her nervous. Her eyes were everywhere but on my face by the time I reached her. Bending down until my nose nearly touched hers, I placed my hands on either side of her legs, essentially trapping her. Her eyes widened when she finally met my gaze, then just as quickly as the nervousness appeared, it was replaced by the bravado she always managed to muster up.
That was one of the many things I loved about her.
“Oh? And what exactly are you good at?” she breathed.
“This.” I yanked her legs out from under her, forcing her to fall back on the bed with a squeal. I followed and hovered over her long enough to register the gleam of excitement in her eyes before taking her mouth with mine.

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Desni Dantone is the author of The Ignited Series: Ignited (2013), Sacrificed (2014), and the upcoming Salvaged Soul and Avenging Heart.

She resides in Everett, PA with her husband, 3 sons, dog and cat, where she can usually be found writing on her laptop or engrossed in a book, usually of the paranormal romance variety. She loves to hear from her growing fan base on facebook or on her website at: or

Author links:

Friday, September 18, 2015

Silenced Memories blitz, Excerpt & Giveaway!

Silenced Memories 
Brittney Sahin
Publication date: September 15th 2015
Genres: Adult, Romance, Suspense


Kate Adams has never found it difficult to keep a professional relationship with her clients . . . but then she’s never had a client like Michael Maddox. From the moment she arrives in Charlotte, Kate is tongue-tied by the devastatingly gorgeous former Marine and intelligence genius turned multi-millionaire entrepreneur. Michael seems at first glance to be the perfect catch, except for one problem. He doesn’t do relationships. And Kate doesn’t do one-night stands.

But as the tension mounts between them, Kate discovers she has larger problems—an untraceable stalker . . . and a dangerous past. When Michael offers his protection, Kate is grateful, and yet afraid. For as they grow closer, she realizes that Michael has his own secret past. And while he might save her life, he will surely break her heart.


Barnes and Noble:


“I’m all in.” Kate looked up at Michael and tilted her head.
He kept his eyes on her as his friends to her right bowed out of the game. When it was back to him, he studied her, checking for tells. She swallowed and adjusted back in her seat. That was new. Was she bluffing?
Or was he just feeling sexual tension from her? The magnetic pull between them was making it hard to breathe. He reached for his chest, as if ready to loosen a tie that was strangling him, only he was wearing a T-shirt. “Is it hot in here?” he found himself asking as he stood up from the table.
“Come on, you afraid of a challenge? A duel of the sexes?” Jerry joked.
Michael tried to focus, but he found himself consumed by his past, by the memories he had tried to silence. Why was this happening now?
The rocky terrain as his boots slipped on the climb.
Torn flesh.
He turned away from the table, not wanting Kate to see him like this. His throat constricted, and he wondered if he was choking. He opened the patio door and walked outside. He braced against the railing and closed his eyes, trying to shut out the steady stream of images that exhausted his mind.
“You all right?” Jerry asked. He slipped through the door and leaned against the railing next to him. “Kate wanted to check on you herself, but I figured you’d prefer not.”

Good call. He inhaled a sharp breath and opened his eyes. “I’m fine. Really.” He tucked the painful memories back inside and rubbed his hands over his face. “Be right in.”

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Brittney Sahin began writing at an early age, with the dream to be a published author before the age of 18. Although academic pursuits (and, later, a teaching career) interrupted her aspirations, she never stopped writing--never stopped imagining.

It wasn't until her students encouraged her to follow her dreams that Brittney said goodbye to Upstate New York in order to start a new adventure in the place she was raised: Charlotte, North Carolina. Here, she decided to take her students' advice and begin to write again.

In 2015, she published her first novel, Silenced Memories. When she is not working on upcoming novels, she spends time with her family. She is a proud mother of a spunky toddler and a lover of suspense novels, coffee, and the outdoors.

Author links:
Personal website:

Finding Perfect blitz, Excerpt & Giveaway!

Finding Perfect 
Kendra C. Highley
Published by: Entangled Crush
Publication date: September 14th 2015
Genres: Contemporary, Romance, Young Adult


For “Perfect Paige” Westfeld, today is “D” Day. As in, she just got one on her calculus test. With her dreams of Stanford, her reputation, and her parents’ expectations at stake, Paige needs to find a way to save face before everything she’s worked for goes up in flames.

Ben Franklin (yes, he’s related) is from the wrong side of town, with the wrong clothes and the wrong kind of life. He also knows an opportunity when he sees one, and he’ll be happy to tutor Paige—if she makes him into the kind of guy her best friend, the hottest girl in school, will date.

It’s the perfect arrangement. And Paige is determined not even the inconvenient—and utterly imperfect—attraction simmering between her and Ben will ruin it…




“So why are we doing this again?” he called.
Even though he had no idea what she had in mind for this little stage play, he’d gone along with good humor. Hell, he was even washing her car for real. Which was funny because a clean car was beside the point in this plan.
“Just keep doing what you’re doing and all will become crystal clear.”
He gave her a long, weird look, then shrugged and went back to work. Paige joined him but spent part of her time focused on the street corner. Any minute now…
“Your tires are low,” Ben said, peeking at her around the front bumper. “If you have an air compressor, I could air them up for you.”
She propped her fist on her hip. “Does this look like the kind of house that keeps an air compressor on hand?”
He made a face, then laughed. “No, this looks like the kind of house where they call the dealership for help.”
They worked in silence until—there! Paige snapped to get his attention just as Zoey turned onto her street. Ben looked at her, and from the startled expression, she knew she was going to have to coach him through every second of this close encounter.
She gave him a stern look. “Take off your shirt.”
His already flushed face turned a deeper shade of red. “What? No way!”
Zoey had pulled up to the curb, and the BMW idled while she dipped out of view, probably to grab her purse. They only had a few seconds, and desperate times called for desperate measures. Paige stalked over to the hose and, under the guise of washing the suds off her car, “accidentally” sprayed Ben right in the chest.
His eyes popped wide open as he stared down at his soaked shirt. “Why?” he growled under his breath.
“Off,” Paige growled back, then turned to greet Zoey. “Hey! Thanks for letting me borrow your dress for the party next weekend.”
Zoey handed her a dress bag, looking at something beyond Paige’s left shoulder. “Yeah, sure.”
Zoey didn’t say anything else, and Paige hazarded a look behind her. As ordered, Ben had stripped off his shirt and oh…my…God.
Okay, so she had guessed he had nice shoulders under those T-shirts after all the work at the tire store, and she’d definitely copped a feel when they’d cuddled on the back porch, but she couldn’t have known he was that ripped. He was lean—leaner than most of the football players anyway—but he made the most of what he had, from the tight biceps and defined pecs, right down to the hard, flat stomach and the tantalizing trail of light brown hair running from his navel into the waistband of his shorts…which, oh hell, were riding low on his hips.
She didn’t want to blink so she could keep staring. Jesus.
Doing a great job of pretending he didn’t notice them hanging on his every move, he reached across the top of the Mustang to soap up the roof. He was a quick study, for sure, stretching in ways that showed off his arms and shoulders. Then he walked over to the bucket and very deliberately bent down to soak the sponge. She might need to sit down. His back was just as good as his front.
She’d created a monster. A very hot, slightly wet monster.

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Kendra C. Highley lives in north Texas with her husband and two children. She also serves as staff to four self-important cats. This, according to the cats, is her most crucial job. She believes chocolate is a basic human right, running a 10k is harder than it sounds, and that everyone should learn to drive a stick-shift. She loves monsters, vacations, baking and listening to bad electronica.

Author links:

Thursday, September 17, 2015

Awakened Tour, Excerpt & Giveaway!

Soul Shifters
Book 1 of 5
Sennah Tate

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Publisher: Red Lily Publishing

Date of Publication: June 14, 2015

ISBN: 978-1514127636

Number of pages: 201
Word Count: 45000

Cover Artist: Sennah Tate

Book Description:

It can never, never happen. Not with him.

Good girl schoolteacher Gemma has always played it safe, colored inside the lines. Her only indulgence is a recurrent fantasy about Carson, her town’s ultimate bad boy. Carson is fifty shades of wrong for Gemma, but damn if the risk-taking ex-con doesn’t inspire dark, waking-at-night-clenching-the-sheets thoughts in Gemma’s orderly little mind...

Don’t touch. Don’t look. Don’t even think about him. No matter how good he might be in your dreams, he’s bad.

All Gemma’s promises fly out the window when her best friend goes missing. Carson is the only one who can help Gemma uncover the truth, and if some sparks fly along the way… so what? It doesn’t mean anything.


As tensions rise, Carson and Gemma are both stripped down, revealing steamy paranormal secrets and an unbridled hunger that simply refuses to be tamed.

Available Free on Amazon September 14- 18


The waste of his time pissed Carson Sanchez off more than anything else. Was it annoying that his name always popped up when there was a burglary near-by? Of course. Did it irritate him that after a decade of maintaining a squeaky-clean record people still thought the worst of him? No doubt. But to drag him half-way across the county when he could have given his alibi over the phone really pissed him off.
When he’d first gotten out of prison, it was a nearly weekly occurrence. Small town cops didn’t have much better to do than harass their resident felons. As time went on, they bothered him less, but every now and then someone in town or someone in law enforcement liked to remind him that his past misdeeds weren’t forgotten and that he would never be truly free. Regardless of whether he served his time or not.
The rain beat down on his cherry red Camaro, but it didn’t bother him – the car needed a good wash anyway. He’d had a hell of a day – the Lake County Sheriffs weren’t exactly known for their hospitality to ex-cons. They had no reason whatsoever to think he was connected to the string of robberies half an hour away. Lack of evidence didn’t stop them from holding him as a ‘person of interest’ for nearly ten hours. His shoulders ached from being tensed for so long and he wanted nothing more than a boiling hot shower and a cold beer before turning in for the night.
Flashing lights up ahead made him tap on the brakes – figures, there were always accidents in this kind of weather. He slowed to a crawl, peering through the thick sheet of rain to analyze the extent of the damage. There was only one car on the side of the road and he soon saw that it wasn’t an accident at all. He could make out movement in the car, but not much else was visible through the weather.
He debated stopping – he should just mind his own business, take his happy ass home and leave the rescuing to someone else. He should. Then he thought of what his best friend would say.
You made a promise to the Universe, remember, Aaron’s voice chimed in his head.
It was hardly fair to hold that over his head; he was sitting in front of the parole board, he would have promised anything to anyone if he thought it would get him out of jail. For years he lived without caring for anyone. Without caring how his actions affected others. He’d hurt so many innocent people and taken so much away that by the time he got out, he was ready to settle the score. He had a lifetime worth of bad karma added up and he couldn’t pass up an opportunity to tip the scale toward the good side.
His stomach grumbled, reminding him that the police hadn’t fed him and the two double cheeseburgers he scarfed down on the interstate were long gone.
He clenched his teeth and cursed silently. He couldn’t just drive past.
Carson parked the Camaro in front of the incapacitated car and turned his flashers on. He steeled himself for the hot shower he was about to get.
“So not what I had in mind,” he grumbled as he opened the door and hurried to the stranger’s window.

“Roadside assistance, are you safe?” A young friendly voice crackled through Gemma’s cell phone.
“Yes, I am. I just have a flat,” she answered, feeling silly for needing help.
“Okay, may I have the name and number found on the front of your membership card?”
Gemma gave the woman the information she requested and waited as deft fingers tapped her details into the computer.
“I’m sorry, Ms. Fellings, it looks like your membership has expired,” the woman sounded genuinely apologetic.
A lump rose in Gemma’s throat as she forced back tears. She saw headlights in her mirror but didn’t think much of it.
“What? That’s not possible. It says right here on my card; it expires May of this year,” she insisted. With a car nearly as old as she was, Roadside Assistance was a necessity; she’d never gone without it.
“Yes, ma’am, and it’s June 6th,” the representative answered politely.
Of course it was. How had that completely slipped her notice? She’d gotten so wrapped up in moving that she didn’t even notice a little thing like her membership expiring.
“Okay, thank you,” she answered, hitting the end button on the call before the other woman could respond. What was she going to do now?
“Think, Gemma, you’re resourceful.” Her phone beeped letting her know the battery was going to die soon, “Of course you’re going to die now.”
There was a car charger somewhere in her vehicle – she remembered seeing it earlier that morning – but the car’s dim overhead light didn’t do much to help her locate it. While the boxes in her back seat were meticulously organized, the stray belongings in the front seat were anything but. The floorboard was covered with trash, receipts, sweaters and various other things that Gemma thought she might need some day while on the road. A charger was definitely among those things, she just had to find it. She crawled over the passenger seat, rooting around in the floorboard for the elusive white cable when a loud knock on her window startled her.

He cursed himself with every hurried step he took through the pelting rain. Droplets hit his exposed skin like stinging nettles and Carson had no sooner gotten out of his car than he wished he could just climb back in. But there was someone in distress and he had an obligation to be the Good Samaritan, no matter how much it sometimes irked him.
He cupped his hands around his face and pressed his nose to the foggy driver side window.
At first he didn’t know what he was seeing, but the primal recesses of his brain pieced it together quickly and he felt his blood suddenly heat. She was bent over the front seat, her ass jutting into the air, tight jeans hugging the ample curve of her hips. The way she wiggled as she searched for whatever it was made his pulse quicken. She had the kind of ass a man could get into a lot of trouble over.
A gust of wind swept down the highway and sent a chill through Carson, reminding him that he was standing like an idiot in the rain, ogling a stranger. He wasn’t fresh out – he shouldn’t be losing all the moisture in his mouth at the sight of a nice body. He took a step back and rapped his knuckles against the window.
She jumped. Her head struck the underside of the glove compartment and Carson winced for her as she rubbed the fresh knot. She crawled back to the window on her hands and knees and Carson couldn’t stop himself from imprinting the image to his memory banks. The window retracted and he got his first good look at her as the wind blew rain into her face.
“Do you need help?”
“I…” she tried to shield herself from the onslaught. Carson side-stepped to block the wind for her. “It’s just a flat, but my jack is rusted,” she answered.
He could tell that she was at her breaking point. Her car was stuffed to the brim – was she running from something… or someone? The thought of someone threatening this women brought out a protective instinct in Carson he’d forgotten he had. The shadows in the car gave her a soft look and the frustration in her eyes made something deep down inside him come to life. He wanted to take her frustration away. Needed to.
“Don’t worry, I have a jack,” he said.
The instant relief that crossed her face made him swell with male pride. The smile that tugged at her lips tugged at his heartstrings in turn. Never before had he felt this instant urge to right every wrong. It had been a long time since he’d been with anyone. Maybe it was just desperation getting the best of him.
Then she batted those long lashes of hers and he knew he was lost.
“That is the best news I’ve heard all day,” she said.
Maybe being the Good Samaritan wasn’t so bad after all.

The man worked quickly in the pouring rain to jack up her car. Gemma stood on the side of the road under her floral umbrella, feeling completely useless.
“You have a spare?” he asked after getting the car jacked.
“A donut. I don’t have much further to go,” she said, opening the trunk.
“Oh, right,” she muttered looking at the boxes that stood between her and the spare tire under her trunk.
“I’ve got it, don’t worry,” he said, nudging her out of the way. His white t-shirt clung wetly to him and did nothing to hide the outlines of strong muscles beneath the translucent fabric. Suddenly her mouth was a desert. She licked her lips absently, trying not to picture taut flesh rippling over his muscles as he flexed and rearranged her belongings. What was wrong with her? She’d never in her life been instantly attracted to someone like this. Maybe it was just the whole ‘damsel in distress’ thing that got her excited.
Her hands flew to cover her cheeks; they were burning hot! He lifted the spare out of the trunk without any of her things getting damaged by the rain.
In the ten or so minutes it took for the man to change her tire, the rain stopped completely and the sun was already out forcing them both to sweat despite their damp clothes.
He dragged the back of his hand across his forehead before dusting his hands off.
“Well, I think that just about does it,” he said. The deep timbre of his voice sent shivers down her spine.
She really needed to get a grip. He was just a stranger doing a nice thing – this wasn’t the opening to some cheesy chick flick or something.
“Thank you so much,” she gushed, almost giving in to the urge to give him a big hug. She eyed his soaked clothes and thought better of it… for so many reasons.
“No problem, by the way I’m–” he was interrupted by her phone ringing.
She made a face at her pocket before yanking the phone out to glare at the caller ID, as if the person on the other end knew what they were doing and they should feel very bad about it.
“My landlord,” she said, “I’m late to move in, he’s probably wondering where I am.”
“Right, well, you’re good to go now,” he said, taking his jack back to his car.
“Thank you again so much. You totally saved my life,” she said again, getting back into the beat-up Escort.
As she answered her phone and pulled away, she missed the look of disappointment on the stranger’s face and it wasn’t until much later that she realized she never even got his name.

About the Author:

Sennah Tate is an up and coming Florida author in the world of romance. She likes writing about fiery heroines unashamed of their curves and the sizzling hot shifters that can't get enough of them.

When she's not writing and drawing dinosaurs, she enjoys the outdoors, her friendly retriever mix, and Disney World. Her exuberant personality brings cheer to dark days and she firmly believes that redheads will inherit the earth.

Ringside blitz, Excerpt & Giveaway!

Tracey Ward
(North Star #3)
Publication date: September 17th 2015
Genres: New Adult, Romance


In life and in the ring, you never dish out pain you’re not willing to take.

Kellen and Jenna have been friends for years. A boxer with a shattered past and an artist with a wealthy family, they found each other against all odds. Ever in each other’s corner, they grew up together, watched relationships rise and crumble, and the only one that’s always left standing is their own.

Bound to each other by an unwavering friendship, undeniable love, and a growing desire, timing has never been on their side. Not until now.

Now they’ll find that falling in love was the easy part. That happily ever after doesn’t come softly, and the end of their story is only the beginning.


Will be found here come release day:
Barnes and Noble:


“Yer a big one, aren’t ya?” Grania asked conversationally.
I glanced down at her. “I’m tall, yeah. From the looks of it I didn’t get that from my grandfather’s side of the family.”
“Oisin was a stout man. Built like an ox but short as a goat. Whatever height ya have ya did’na get it from him. Yer girl tells me yer a fighter.”
“A boxer,” I corrected.
“A boxer, then. Do you win?”
“Almost exclusively.”
She grinned. “Ya did’na get that from him either.”
I sat down slowly, hesitantly. I didn’t take the stool Jenna had been perched on. I sat farther back, across from her with the fire crackling bright between us and our eyes on par.
“What did I get from him?” I asked.
She paused, looking me over again but her heart wasn’t in it. Her mind wasn’t behind it. It was somewhere else entirely.
“Ya asked her to marry ya,” she stated by way of answer.
“I did.”
“Because I love her.”
She hummed thoughtfully. It sounded like a song. “There are two types of men in the world. Men who want to be loved an’ men who love. Beautiful boys like yerself, like Oisin was an’ Mason is, ya want to be loved. Ya want to be looked at an’ adored, an’ that’s all well an’ fine, but it doesn’t keep a woman. If ya don’t ask yerself at the end of each night an’ the start of each day how ya can love her better, then ya have no business getting married at all.”
I chewed on that, pensively staring at her hands that sat weathered and still in her lap. I took my time, her time, probably something she didn’t have much of left, but still I took it. I considered her words and my answer carefully.
I sat forward slowly. “I don’t like people. In fact, I hate them. As far as I’ve seen the vast majority of them are liars and thieves who want one thing from you and they’ll do everything they can to get it, and they’ll leave you broken and alone once they have it. Some people are exceptions. Jenna is an exception, and still I have trouble. Still I have to work to love her every day because I’m fighting against a conditioning that tells me that she’ll ruin me in the end. But still I do it. I do it like I need it to breathe. Like I need it to live, because I do. Because when I’m not loving her, I’m not living. So you can spare me your Old World wisdom and folkish advice because there’s not a person alive or dead that’s walked this earth who could possibly begin to tell me how to love that woman better than I already do.”


"I don't write romances, I write relationships. One is pretty and perfect and all consuming. The other is real."

I was born in Eugene, Oregon and studied English Literature at the University of Oregon (Go Ducks!) I love writing all kinds of genres from YA Dystopian to New Adult Romance, the common themes between them all being strong character development and a good dose of humor.

My husband, son, and snuggly pitbull are my world.

Author links:

Wednesday, September 16, 2015

Devil's Playground Tour, Excerpt & Giveaway!

Devil’s Playground
Night Hunters
Book 4
Helena Shaw

Genre: Paranormal Romance  

Publisher: Jynxed Moon

Date of Publication: August 15th, 2015

ASIN: B013YR988K

Number of pages: 275
Word Count: 65,000

Cover Artist: Helena Shaw

Book Description:

She finally thought she was free.

Dawn Garrett has been on the run from her past since the day she turned eighteen. A new name, a new life, and a new love have kept her safe from the one man who will stop at nothing to get her back.

Together with Jase Byrnes, Dawn has stood up against werewolves, witches, vampires, and so much more. She’s learned to be a hunter and with Jase by her side, she’s finally found the strength she’s been looking for.

But the man she’s spent so long running from is hot on her trail and Dawn is out of places to run. She’ll need to stand and face him, but she’s trapped in his playground and he’s got more tricks up his sleeve than she ever thought possible.

Available at Amazon


The snow showed no signs of slowing down as it whipped and whirled through Dawn’s hair. All her sweaters were gone, her makeshift scarf, her boots, everything.
And yet she wasn’t cold.
When she and Jase had gone out earlier, the snow had been so cold that it hurt, and it had been even worse when they got back to the hotel and her toes and fingers started to warm up again. The pain and itch had combined into pure agony and part of her wanted to bury them in the hotel’s ice bucket just to alleviate the pain, but in time it had begun to subside on its own.
Maybe I’m going numb, she wondered to herself as she marched through the snow. She’d read that was a sign of hypothermia. The body numbs itself to the cold and eventually you just go to sleep, but never wake up.
But she wasn’t tired. She was looking for something, and she couldn’t sleep until she found it.
She had no choice but to keep moving forward through the blowing wind. Each step was a struggle against the constant pressure of the gale, but she couldn’t stop.
It wasn’t until she reached the park that she realized that she was completely alone.
 “Jase!” Dawn called. He’d been with her a moment ago, she could have sworn it, but now she was alone.
Entirely alone.
“Anyone?” Dawn screamed. No one was out in the freezing weather. The snow was too much, too wet and cold, and it just kept falling.
I have to find him, Dawn’s mind raced as she moved through the park. Panic surged through her and she kicked through the snow while it planted wet kisses with every flake that landed on her cheeks.
But the further she went, the less the snow behaved like normal. It changed, mutated, and when she looked up at the trees she saw they were no longer bowed and bent, but easily carrying the weight of their loads.
“No...” Dawn muttered as she spun. The wet snow turned to dry speckles of white ash and the wind was no longer cool on her face, but a hot blast of air.
The ash in the trees spread and grew, and without warning, it burst into red hot flames. Smoke filled the air and Dawn knew she had no choice but to run or risk getting swallowed by the fire.
It’s not real, she told herself as she ran. It can’t be real. It’s just a dream.
But it didn’t feel like a dream. The heat was real, the smoke in her lungs too. The hot blasts of air stung her eyes and everything was too clear.
Ahead, she saw what just might be her salvation. A subway entrance beckoned to her and she ran right for it.
Like the rest of the New York in her dream, she was alone when she got down the long flight of stone stairs. She’d hoped a train would be waiting, a train that would take her out of her dream and keep her safe, but she wouldn’t be so lucky.
As a teen, she’d loved the subway. The freedom it had given her that she hadn’t had in her small home in New Jersey. Without the need for a car, she could just get on the train and go anywhere she wanted to without a moment’s notice.
It would be her eighteenth birthday present to herself, or at least, that’s what she had decided. The moment she was legally an adult, she’d be gone and she’d keep running until he could never find her again.
Her plan had been to get some cash, get on the subway, and catch a train. With cash in hand, she’d be able to do it all easily enough. No one could trace the cash and she’d be out of the city before the sun rose.
It had all been worth it. The freedom she’d had on the road was better than the subway had ever offered her. It couldn’t even compare, and now she could only hope that this time, the train would actually lead her somewhere safe, rather than just looping around the city.
She knew she couldn’t stand there and wait for the train, not for long. Something was outside and it was coming for her. She couldn’t risk standing still and she needed to get moving or risk being caught.
With no train in sight, Dawn jumped down on the tracks. Even knowing it was a dream, she avoided the third rail and debated whether to go left or right.
Right, she decided. An old bit of trivia was what kept her from going left. Sinister, that was the old word for left, or at least that’s what she had heard. She couldn’t go the sinister way, it was just asking for trouble.
She hadn’t made it far when behind her she heard something. Even without turning around, she knew she was no longer alone. The soft sounds of scraping claws and heavy breath filled her ears and when she turned, all she saw were glowing yellow eyes.
Run, her mind screamed, and she did just that. There was no hesitation, no paralysis, only instinct as she began to run down the tunnel.

About the Author:

Helena Shaw has been writing ever since she was a child. Always with a book in her hands, she started crafting her own stories at a young age. She has always loved the world of the paranormal and inspired by her favorite stories, she set out to create a world of her own.

Her first full length novel, Harvest Moon, was released in November, 2014 and she is currently hard at work on the sequel. She hopes to keep Dawn and Jase's story going for many years to come.

Helena Shaw resides in a small town in western Ontario. When she is not writing, she is taking care of her two boys and her husband.

Sexy blitz & Giveaway!

J.A. Huss
Publication date: September 9th 2015
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Romance


Fletcher Novak is Sexy.
Fletch has charm, Fletch has charisma, and Fletch has moves. He turns dreams into reality two nights a week, baring his body to lonely women, bored housewives, and bachelorettes looking for that one last good time. He’s into one-night stands, one-time things, and he never, ever gets serious.

Tiffy Preston is looking for commitment.
A billionaire’s daughter with the world at her fingertips, Tiffy’s in Lake Tahoe to take over her father’s hotel and clean up the Mountain Men Male Revue Show. She’s well-bred, polite, and hates everything Fletcher represents.

But Fletcher offers Tiffy something she can’t refuse—total satisfaction and the man of her dreams. All she has to do is… everything he tells her.

Because Sexy doesn’t sell… it’s for sale.

Sexy is a full-length, standalone novel by New York Times Bestselling author, JA Huss.


GET THE ENTIRE SEVEN BOOK SERIES for $4.99 (one week only)


a Rafflecopter giveaway


JA Huss is the New York Times and 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 (, Twitter (@jahuss), and her kick-ass romance blog, New Adult Addiction (

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 ( and get those details delivered right to your inbox.

Author links:

Tuesday, September 15, 2015

One Scandalous Kiss Tour, Excerpt & Giveaway!

One Scandalous Kiss
An Accidental Heirs Novel
Christy Carlyle

Genre: Historical Romance

Publisher: Avon Impulse

Date of Publication: September 8, 2015

ISBN: 9780062427991

Number of pages: 256

Book Description:

Debut Victorian historical romance author Christy Carlyle delights in the first book of her Accidental Heirs series in which a suffragete bookshop owner agrees to a devil’s bargain that results in one scandalous kiss. When a desperate Jessamin Wright bursts into an aristocratic party and shocks the entire ton, she believes it’s the only way to save her failing bookstore.

The challenge sounded easy when issued, but the one thing she never expected was to enjoy the outrageous embrace she shares with a serious viscount. Lucius Crawford, Viscount Grimsby, has never meet, or kissed, anyone like this beautiful suffragette. He’s determined to protect the title he’s unexpectedly inherited and Jess doesn’t fit into his plans.

When a country house party brings these two people together once more, neither can resist the temptation and both find that one scandalous kiss just isn’t enough.



London, September 1890
She’d never imagined wealth would be so uncomfortable. Nearly every aspect of the Marquess of Clayborne’s Belgrave Square drawing room made Jessamin Wright uneasy. There were no books stacked in piles, no candles whose wax had run down their sides in haphazard sculptures, and not a spot of ash dusting the hearth—nothing inviting about the room at all. How could any lived-in space be so clean? The slippery damask settee felt stiff and unyielding beneath her body. Nothing about it urged you to sit and stop awhile. Even art was lacking from the walls, except for a series of watercolors of what must have been a terribly boring fox hunt. A fire burned low in the grate and offered a bit of warmth against the autumn chill, but the cool beiges and tepid pinks of the wallpaper and furnishings made Jess feel slightly queasy, as if blood had been drained from her body as thoroughly as color had been drawn out of every surface in the room. Even the wood was light colored or painted white and lacquered to a high sheen. It was all wrong. No room should be so spotless. As she and Alice had yet to meet their host, she began to doubt that anyone lived here at all. Then again, she’d never before set foot inside a fine London townhouse. Perhaps they were all this stark and unpleasant.
Jess didn’t have to look down to know the room’s pristine neatness contrasted sharply with her scuffed boots, soot-dusted cloak, and unfashionable work clothes. She found it impossible to settle herself in such elegant surroundings. Sitting, then standing, then sitting again, she rearranged her limbs and scratched her neck in a most unladylike manner. Finally finding a spot on the settee that suited her, she stripped off her twice-mended gloves but kept her hands clasped, careful not to touch anything for fear she might leave a mark.
Her cluttered thoughts offered as little comfort as the room. She fretted about leaving the bookshop managed solely by her assistant, Jack. He was a longtime employee and utterly trustworthy, but he’d never been fond of dealing with customers. He simply loved books—acquiring them, reading them, repairing them—and that was something she understood. He hadn’t stayed on after Father’s death for her, but out of loyalty to Lionel Wright. She understood that too. One of Father’s gifts had been the ability to inspire a bone deep sense of obligation in others. Since Jess had taken on the shop, other employees had been hard to come by—few men wished to take their wages and direction from a woman.
Slipping Father’s old watch from its place in her skirt pocket, Jess’s mind sifted through what she had yet to accomplish before resting her head for the day. It was a long list and —Ah, that too—now included an article she’d almost forgotten to write for the Women’s Union journal.
“I hope Lady Katherine hasn’t forgotten us. To be honest, I won’t be sad to see the last of this room. It’s all rather cold, even with the fire. Makes you afraid to touch anything or even breathe.”
Alice McGregor had an uncanny talent for reading one’s mind and could always be counted on for blunt and insightful commentary. Of all Jessamin’s friends at the Women’s Union, Alice was the most practical and plain-speaking. Delicacy was overrated as far as Alice was concerned. She said what everyone else was thinking but knew it impolite to mention.
“No, it’s not terribly inviting, is it?”
If Jess could decorate such a room, the colors would be bold and full of life. Red would do very nicely. And she’d decorate the walls with art so vivid you’d believe you could smell the pot of basil in a Holman Hunt painting or hear the swish of silk and satin as one of Mr. Tissot’s beauties crossed the room. She closed her eyes and imagined crimson walls covered with art in rich, vibrant colors.
“Miss Wright, have I caught you napping?” Lady Katherine Adderly’s giggle was like the clash of two crystal glasses meeting in a toast. Sharp and clear, it instantly snapped Jessamin out of her fantasies.
As she swept in, a maid followed close on her heels with a tea tray. Lady Katherine smelled of flowers, but far too many, the scent cloying and sickly sweet.
“Forgive me, my lady.” It was easier for Jessamin to apologize for drowsing than acknowledge how she loathed the decor.
Jess and Alice exchanged raised-brow glances as their hostess handed each of them a fine porcelain teacup and began the process of pouring tea and offering them confections from plates laden with biscuits and tiny pastries. It was an elaborate ritual, much more fuss about tea than Jess had ever made in life. But the rich tang of jasmine in the brew was delicious and she was grateful for the distraction of the warm refreshment, even as she sensed the persistent tick of Father’s watch against her skirt pocket. She had to get back to the shop and hoped their meeting with the marquess’s daugther wouldn’t take long.
“I’m pleased to make this donation to the Women’s Union. You know how I enjoy the lively meetings.”
Lady Katherine had attended only three of the group’s weekly meetings over the course of four months, but she’d been eager to make a financial contribution and Alice, as the union’s treasurer and co-founder, was all too happy to accept. Jess wasn’t certain why Alice had asked her to come along to collect the money, but as editor of the group’s printed journal and author of many of the speeches given at gatherings, she supposed she was a visible member of the organization.
“We are most grateful for the funds, my lady.” As always Alice spoke with sincerity, gratitude clear in her tone.
“Oh, please call me Kitty.”
Alice took a sip of tea, attempting to hold the cup with all the dignity  Kitty seemed to manage effortlessly.
“I understand there’s another worthy cause to which I may also contribute.”
“I’m sure there are many in London,” Jess offered, thinking of a dozen ways she might spend charitable funds, not to mention the money needed to salvage the indebted bookshop her father had left her.
“I was referring to you, Miss Wright.”
Jessamin shot Alice a look, wondering just what her scrupulously honest friend had revealed to Lady Katherine.
“I understand you have a bookshop and lending library here in town.”
“Yes, my lady,” Jess bit off, unable to keep the irritation from her voice. Alice shouldn’t have mentioned her situation to anyone. Kitty might be feeling benevolent, but the amount needed to clear the shop’s debt was more than any wealthy aristocrat’s daughter would wish to spend, no matter how generous they were feeling.
“Would one hundred pounds be useful to you?”
A shiver tickled Jessamin’s spine as she contemplated the amount, a sum she couldn’t earn at the shop in months, perhaps not even in a year. It wasn’t nearly enough to clear the entire debt, but it would bring her payments with the bank current.
Jessamin studied Kitty’s feline smile and tried to unravel the mystery of the young woman’s wish to help her. She knew Kitty was wealthy, the daughter of a marquess, and perhaps a bit bored, but she’d never even conversed with her before today. Kitty was mentioned off and on in the scandal sheets Jess admitted to no one she indulged in reading, but she was hardly known as an outstanding philanthropist.
Charity tasted sour, yet how could she refuse the sum?
“Neither a borrower nor a lender be” had been one of Father’s favorite lines from Hamlet. But it was an adage he’d failed to uphold. His gambling had turned him into the worst sort of borrower, taking loans from friends and money from the bookshop he’d worked so hard to build up. For Jess’s part, she’d become a lender soon after her father’s death, finally instituting the lending library she’d been envisioning for years. It seemed neither of them had heeded the Shakespearian admonition at all.
Kitty watched Jess closely and appeared to notice the moment she’d almost made up her mind to accept the money.
“I am so pleased you’ll allow me to help you, Jessamin. And in return, I’m certain you won’t mind assisting me with one tiny request.”
Alice frowned and set her teacup on the table between them, edging forward on the settee as if she meant to get up and leave. “I’m not sure that’s quite right.”
“What is the favor, Lady Katherine? Please, let’s speak plainly with one another.” It didn’t surprise Jess in the least that Kitty expected something in return. No one offered such a sum without expecting something in return.
“Kitty, please. Do call me Kitty. It’s a simple favor, really. As simple as a kiss.”
 Jess choked. “Pardon?” she squeaked, when she’d finally managed to swallow her mouthful of tea and could breathe again.
“Just a kiss, Jessamin. Surely you don’t object to kissing.” Kitty’s teasing tone belied the glint of steel in her gaze. “You’re a modern, free-thinking woman, after all. You believe in the suffrage and equality for our sex. You should feel quite free to kiss any man you like.”
Kissing men had nothing to do with Jess’s interest in social reform or gaining a voice for women in the political sphere. If Kitty thought it did, she hadn’t been to nearly enough meetings.
“You want me to kiss a man?” Jess spoke the words as if it was an extraordinary feat. And it was. She’d never kissed a man. Not really. A childish, graceless kiss on the cheek from Tom Jenkins when she was twelve years old hardly counted.
“This seems a rather strange favor, Kitty.” Alice’s precise tone cut through the quiet of the room.
Kitty’s tinkling laughter rang out. “Yes, I suppose it does. But it’s merely a harmless bit of revenge.”
“Revenge.” Jess waited. There had to be more.
“Oh, all right. If you must know, the dreadful man snubbed me.” Kitty plumped her bow-shaped mouth in a pout.
Was she the shallowest heiress in Belgravia? The thought that Kitty wished to seek revenge because a man did not prefer her company was ridiculous. Her beauty and wealth could secure her any suitor she set her cap at. In fact, the question of why the man rejected her was as intriguing as her desire for Jess to kiss him.
“Why did he snub you?”
“Why, indeed!” Kitty straightened up in her chair and slid her fingers into honey blond hair, tucking her already neatly pinned coiffure more firmly into place. “Perhaps because he is an odious man. If he wasn’t a viscount, soon to be an earl, and so irredeemably handsome, I wouldn’t have bothered with him. Never mind Papa’s mad notion I marry Lord Grim. Freddie is much more fun, even if he doesn’t have a farthing to his name.” Kitty turned the full force of her bright green gaze on Jess. “You’ll do it then?”
“I’m still not sure I understand.”
Kitty’s tone became pedantic, as if she was speaking to a child who needed to be set aright.
“My dear, it couldn’t be simpler. Viscount Grimsby snubbed me at a soiree last week and I would like your help to put him in his place. He’s a dour man, as cold as marble. Some call him Lord Grim. And so he is. Grim and heartless. He needs a little comeuppance.” As an afterthought, she added, “He’s against the vote for women, of course.”
As if that made the whole ridiculous scheme noble. As if kissing him would change his mind about women’s suffrage.
“And where does kissing come into play?” It all sounded wrong to Jess, like the discordant notes of an untuned piano playing over and over in her mind, but Kitty waved away her concern dismissively.
“It won’t be a real kiss, my dear. Not the kind that matters. Just a kiss that knocks him off his pedestal a bit. It will cause him a trifle of social bother. Stir up some tittle tattle.”
For a moment Kitty’s expression altered, the corners of her mouth turning down as if she’d fallen into troubled contemplation. Jess wondered if she was already regretting her petty scheme? Then she lifted her head, a satisfied cat-at-the-cream grin lifting her cheeks.
“The next time I see the man at a ball, perhaps he’ll manage a bit of humility. And since no one else will wish to stand up with him, I suspect he’ll be more than happy to dance with me.”
None of Kitty’s words put Jess’s mind at ease. She’d never heard of Lord Grimsby but from Kitty’s description, kissing the man certainly didn’t sound appealing.
“I happen to know he’ll be at an art gallery in Mayfair this evening.”
“And?” Jess was growing impatient. Who had time for games when she had a business to run?
“There will be a gathering at the gallery. Mrs. Ornish is a great fan of art and has sponsored one of the artists whose works will be featured. I do wonder why he always goes to Mrs. Ornish’s events. Could he have his eye on Meredith, do you think?”
Of course, Jess had no idea who Mrs. Ornish or Meredith was. She might share their love of art, but they were the kind of women with wealth enough to offer an artist patronage. Jess couldn’t even afford to buy a painting. Her walls were decorated with cut-out prints culled from books and newspapers.
“Kitty, please just tell me. What must I do?”
Kitty’s crooked her mouth alluringly. Jess supposed she used the simpering expression to charm everyone. Everyone except Lord Grimsby, apparently.
“I want you to show up at the gallery event and stride up to Lord Grim. Yes, you’ll just walk up and plant a kiss square on that cruel, unsmiling mouth of his.”
“I really don’t think—“Alice’s voice had taken on the same pitch and volume she used to quiet the women’s group meetings.
Jess knew what she was going to say and cut her off. “Wait. Let me consider a moment.”
Jess closed her eyes and breathed deeply. She had to do it. She needed the one hundred pounds Kitty offered. There was no denying what the woman proposed was scandalous, not to mention farcical and childish. But Jess had no reputation to protect. As Kitty said, she saw herself as a free-thinking woman, unhampered by society’s strictures and eager for changing women’s roles. She had no idea how kissing a complete stranger would strike a blow for woman’s rights, but she knew her desperation for funds made her beholden to Kitty’s whims.
“Come, Jessamin.” Kitty’s sing song voice was cajoling. “I dare you.”
Because Jess’s speeches encouraged action over words, perhaps Kitty saw her as brave and daring. But if she was brave, it was because Father died and took all of her options with him.  She’d lost everything—her home, a modestly comfortable lifestyle, freedom to study and spend her days more or less as she wished—and put all her energy into maintaining his business, even after discovering the massive debt he’d accumulated. She was beginning to make inroads toward repaying the debt and Kitty’s funds would be another step toward financial success for Wright and Sons Booksellers.
“Fine. I’ll do it.”
Kitty gasped with delight and clapped her hands together.
Alice shot her a look as if Jess had taken leave of whatever sense she’d been given.
Jess couldn’t match Kitty’s enthusiasm nor acknowledge Alice’s concern. She was too busy fighting off the sense of dread that settled in the pit of her stomach at the prospect of what she’d agreed to do.
“Where is this gallery and what time will he be there?”

About the Author:

Christy Carlyle writes sensual, and sometimes downright steamy, historical romance set in the Victorian era. She loves heroes who struggle against all odds and heroines who are ahead of their time. A former teacher with a degree in history, she finds there is nothing better than being able to combine her love of the past with her die-hard belief in happy endings.