Saturday, April 9, 2016

Catching Summer Blitz, Excerpt & Giveaway!

Catching Summer
L.P. Dover
(Second Chances #6)
Published by: Loveswept
Publication date: April 5th 2016
Genres: Adult, Romance, Suspense

Former nurse Summer Jacobs has seen her fair share of suffering, but she never expected tragedy to hit so close to home. After watching her husband die in the MMA ring, Summer spends the next two years fighting her way through the darkness. The last thing she needs is another hardheaded athlete turning her life upside down. But that’s exactly what happens when she meets a gridiron star who’s as skilled at stealing hearts as he is at snagging passes.

Carolina Cougars wide receiver Evan Townsend usually has no problem winning fans, so he’s intrigued when Summer shoots down his go-to plays for winning a woman’s attention. Never one to back down from a challenge, Evan turns up the heat, setting off sparks that neither can deny. But as his slow seduction begins to chase away Summer’s pain, he gets the feeling that someone is desperate to keep them apart. Now Evan will do anything to protect her—because he never misses a chance to make a perfect catch.


Once out the door, I breathed a sigh of relief and slowed my pace. “Come on, Summer, stop acting like an idiot.”
“Talking to yourself now?” Evan teased from behind.
I stopped mid-step and closed my eyes. “Do you enjoy provoking me?”
When he circled around me, I opened my eyes. “Not really, but I do love seeing you blush. I didn’t realize I had that effect on you.”
“You seriously are full of yourself, aren’t you?” How could I be so stupid? There was no way in hell I could hide my face now. I didn’t want him to know how flustered he made me.
Chuckling, he shook his head and kept his gray eyes solely on mine. “I’m really not. I was just hoping to hear your laugh again. I guess I didn’t get enough of it yesterday.”
“So, this is you flirting with me? What do you expect to gain from that?”
He took a step closer and smiled. “For starters, I was hoping to persuade you to come to my party after the game Saturday night.”
My heart thumped wildly in my chest. I could feel the sweat pouring down my back. “Like what? A date?”
“Only if you want it to be. I just figured I’d save you the trouble of having to ward off my teammates. I can name three of the guys who are interested in you. My threats to stop their advances can only go so far.”
“What if I didn’t want to go to your party? I can easily just tell them I’m not interested.”
He nodded and crossed his arms over his chest. “You could, but that doesn’t mean shit to these guys. They’ll keep hounding you until you give in. They love the chase.”
“Just like you,” I retorted with a smile.
“What can I say? I’m relentless when I want something.” I sucked in a breath and bit my lip. Did he really want me like that? The thought made everything inside of me tighten. It was too dangerous to think of him like that.
“So are you trying to save me from your friends or are you really wanting me to join you? I know how you guys work, and I don’t want to be a part of some game you’re playing to get girls.”
His grin faded, gaze hard. “I don’t play games, Summer. I may have in the past, but I would never do that to you. Have I ever given you the impression that you can’t trust me?”
Sighing, I shook my head. I felt like such an idiot. “No, and I’m sorry for being presumptuous. It’s just . . .” I paused and bit down on the side of my cheek.
“It’s just what?” he asked in all seriousness.
“It’s just this is all new to me. All I’ve ever known is Austin. Being around you makes me nervous. I’m not like the girls you’ve brought into the restaurant. If it’s sex you want, you can forget it. I’m not one of your groupies.” For a second there, I thought he was at a loss for words, but then he belted out in laughter. Ouch, that hurt. “I’m glad I could amuse you.”
When he straightened up, he took off his hat and ran his hands through his hair. And again, my heart sped up at the sight. Shit. “Damn, you are a fiery one. And just so we’re clear, I’m not trying to fuck you or trying to put another notch in my belt. Believe it or not, I’m actually interested in something else.”
“What is that, exactly?”
“I don’t know, but I’m hoping you can help me figure it out.” Grabbing my hand, he pulled me toward his truck. “Let’s go.”

Catching Summer Promo 6

Author Bio:
New York Times and USA Today Bestselling author, L.P. Dover, is a southern belle residing in North Carolina along with her husband and two beautiful girls. Before she even began her literary journey she worked in Periodontics enjoying the wonderment of dental surgeries.
Not only does she love to write, but she loves to play tennis, go on mountain hikes, white water rafting, and you can't forget the passion for singing. Her two number one fans expect a concert each and every night before bedtime and those songs usually consist of Christmas carols.
Aside from being a wife and mother, L.P. Dover has written over seventeen novels including her Forever Fae series, the Second Chances series, the Gloves Off series, and her standalone novel, Love, Lies, and Deception. Her favorite genre to read is romantic suspense and she also loves writing it. However, if she had to choose a setting to live in it would have to be with her faeries in the Land of the Fae.
L.P. Dover is represented by Marisa Corvisiero of Corvisiero Literary Agency. 

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Forbidden Heat Blitz, Excerpt & Giveaway!

Forbidden Heat
J.L. White
(Firework Girls #1)
Publication date: April 5th 2016
Genres: New Adult, Romance

They call us the Firework Girls.
I’m Isabella. My comfort zone consists of a bank of test tubes and a Bunsen burner. But having to take a philosophy class to graduate from college—well, that’s causing a different kind of burn altogether. I mean, the hottest professor at Hartman is looking right at me.

Can you blame me for looking back?


Feeling dizzy, I back away from the table with heavy limbs. The girls I met don’t notice my departure but Justin Kirby does.
He’s right next to me with his hand on my lower back.
“I need to sit down,” I say.
“Okay sweetheart,” he says.
He steers me away, past an empty chair.
“Wait,” I say, but he leads me to the basement stairs and we start to go up. I’m having trouble managing them.
I mumble something as we wind through the crowd on the main floor, bumping against a shoulder here and an elbow there. The music is pounding. I feel it in my body, but it sounds muffled, along with all the other sounds in the room. He steers me up another flight of stairs. He has to put his arm around me to keep me from tripping on the steps.
What’s the matter with me?
There’s a long, dark hallway at the top, with several rooms breaking off on either side. Justin Kirby is practically dragging me along.
When he opens a door, I see a bed in the room and know I’m in trouble. I’m almost too out of it to panic properly.
All of a sudden, he half lets go of me, half shoves me into the doorjamb.
I hit my forehead on the wood, trying to hang on to something. There’s screaming and yelling—I’m hearing his voice, I think, and someone else’s, a woman’s voice—but it’s all confusion to me and now all I can do is think about the fact that I’m falling and can’t stop.

Author Bio:
J.L. White writes steamy romances featuring smart, sexy women and the swoon-worthy men who adore them. Her sexy love stories are full of passion but don't skimp on the tenderness.
She's addicted to trendy coffee houses, poolside lounging, and HEAs. When not tapping blissfully away on her laptop, she takes time to enjoy life with her husband and their children.
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Friday, April 8, 2016

Full Moon Dating: New Moon Tour, Excerpt & Giveaway!

Full Moon Dating: New Moon
Full Moon Dating
Stories 1-4
Julia Talbot

Genre: MM, Shifters

Publisher: All Romance eBooks

Date of Publication:  April 1, 2016

ISBN: 978-1-943576-69-2

Number of pages: 247
Word Count: 58k

Cover Artist: Erin Dameron Hill

Book Description:

Together in one volume, the first four Full Moon Dating stories. This is just the beginning!

Full Moon Dating: Dating and Mating for Shifters and More!

Matchmakers Stone and Harve vow to find a mate for even the toughest to match shifter or vampire.

New Moon includes four novellas featuring werewolves, vampires, and were-kitties searching for their other halves, no matter how challenging.

Aiden and Ben: After these wolves get together, Aiden doubts he’s found his match. Ben knows better, but can he convince Aiden to stay?

Coy and Denver: City wolf Coy isn’t sure he wants to give up control. Denver is just the vamp to give Coy what he needs, but their match creates a whole new set of problems for the dating agency.

Evgeny and Feng: Tiger Evgeny worries his sheer size and strength turns off most lovers. Snow leopard Feng is an acrobat used to working without a net, but he falls hard for his tiger. When Feng disappears, Evgeny doesn’t know if he can find him soon enough to help.

Gage and Hamish: Gage is an impossible bottom. No one can tame this cat, but bear shifter and effortless Top Hamish is certainly willing to try.

Harve and Stone hope their success rate is 100%, but the path to true love is never easy.

ARe    Amazon    iTunes    Kobo


“Full Moon Dating. Have you tried our online site? Yes, I’m afraid you do have to go through the screening process. Really? I’ll be sure to tell 911 when I call them, you sick fuck.” The phone in the outer office slammed down with the musical jingle only an old rotary phone could make.
Very privately, Stone thought that was why Adelia had chosen that phone, and the very film noir detective office vibe she’d used to decorate her domain. It went with the pencil skirt and high-waisted blouse fashion statement she chose every day as well.
She appeared at his door, her victory roll (she had informed him they were called that when he referred to them as “those curly things”) hairdo just slightly mussed, signaling agitation. “Okay, I’m going to start sending the nutbag wannabe paranormals to you, boss. That guy wanted to date a vampire, so he could be a serial killer without actually having to kill someone.”
Stone sat back in his chair and raised a brow. “You’re way meaner than me, Ades. You deal with them so well.”
“There are some crazy bastards out there, boss.” He could almost see her tail, white-tipped and fuzzy, twitching.
“I know. That’s why this business is going to boom.” Stone grinned, tickled as hell that they had an office and a website. Now they just needed to facilitate their first couple, so they could get some testimonials.
Adelia gave him the hairy eyeball and then shook her head. “So, when do you want to go over the sheets?”
“Let’s look at them for an hour or so tonight. I’ve already run the points of comparison database.” They had stuff in their questionnaire that those other match and mingle sites didn’t have. Lots of stuff.
Between his business and marketing savvy and Harve’s computer and psych training, they had a winner, right?
“You got it, boss. I think I already have a couple of good dates in mind.” She waggled her brows.
“I bet they’re gay,” he murmured. Adelia was obsessed with the idea of two men together. That was why she worked for him.
“You think?” She flipped him off, playfully.
“Well, put them at the top of the pile.”
“Top of the pile for Mr. City Wolf and Mr. Country Wolf.”
“Oh, man.” He chuckled. “Tell me why they’re a match?”
“A little red wolf photographer from Dallas who’s had ‘bad luck with long-term commitment’ and a huge gray from up north looking for someone to ‘make his mate.’ It’s perfect.”
“Really?” He grabbed the folders she handed him and flipped through them. “Uh, little red is not into spanking.”
She snorted. “He’s stressed out and overworked. He might like it.”
“We have to match them based on actual interests.” Maybe he’d ask Harve.
“Says who?”
“We’re a dating service!” He was trying hard not to smile. Harve was the psychologist slash computer geek. Adelia was the psychic. He was pretty damned sure of it.
“And we’re run by an incredibly observant business magnate.”
“Indeed.” He shook his head at her. “You’re such a freak.”
“Yeah, but I’m your freak and you adore me.”
“I do.” He gave her a fond grin before she trotted back out front to answer the phone, her heels clicking. Stone stared at the two folders on the top of the pile. The more he thought about the cowboy wolf from Wyoming who liked to top and the fussy little red from Dallas, the more he liked it.
Maybe he’d skip Harve altogether.
Stone picked up the phone and dialed the number in folder one. “Hello, Aiden Underhill? This is the Full Moon Dating site manager. You’re our grand prize winner this month. You’ve won an all-expenses paid trip to Jackson Hole.”

About the Author:

Julia Talbot lives in the great Southwest, where there is hot and cold running rodeo, cowboys, and everything from meat and potatoes to the best Tex-Mex. A full time author, Julia has been published by Samhain Publishing, Dreamspinner Press, All Romance eBooks and Changeling Press. She believes in stories that leave a mark, and that everyone deserves a happy ending, so she writes about love without limits, where boys love boys, girls love girls, and boys and girls get together to get wild, especially when her crazy paranormal characters are involved. Find Julia at @juliatalbot on Twitter.
For more information on other books by Julia, please visit her official website:

The One Who Got Away blitz, Excerpt & Giveaway!

The One Who Got Away
Ava Claire
(An Alpha Billionaire Romance)
Publication date: January 27th 2016
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

It was supposed to be the best day. I was marrying the love of my life–and nothing would ever be the same.

And then he left me at the altar.

Five years later, I get a job offer I can’t refuse. The trouble is, the boss just so happens to be the one who got away…



Even from behind, he was something to behold. He had on a black leather jacket with a charcoal gray hoodie. On anyone else, it would have looked juvenile, hipster even. Like someone emulating ‘rugged’ based on what they saw in a magazine or on some TV show. This guy was all man, all testosterone with his broad shoulders and jeans that gripped an ass that I was dying to grip.
Realizing that I was staring at some stranger’s behind, my eyes shot up to tamer territory, but his dark wavy hair was even more dangerous. It was just long enough that he could do that man-bun thing that was all the rage. But nothing about this man was forced. He didn’t follow trends; he made his own. His dark locks were wild and free.
I hadn’t even seen his face, but I knew he was trouble. With a capital T. Which meant I was in trouble, because if I wasn’t sure I was gonna take the job before, well, I was positive now.
“Oh! Mr. Carraway, I didn’t know you were on site today.”
I gasped.
The allure, that instant draw…I should have known. It had only happened once before when I was partnered with the hottest guy at Rhoades High in Advanced Chem.
He turned from the espresso machine and I stopped breathing.
Lincoln Carraway smiled at me like a wolf about to rip out the throat of its prey.
“Welcome to Make a Change, Catherine.”

Author Bio:
Ava Claire is a sucker for Alpha males and happily ever afters. When not putting pen to paper or glued to her Kindle, Ava likes road tripping, karaoke, vintage fashion, and searching for her own brooding billionaire.
Join my newsletter for release updates, special previews and giveaways exclusive to my subscribers: 

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Thursday, April 7, 2016

Whereafter Tour, Excerpt & Giveaway!

Book 3
Terri Bruce

Genre: Contemporary fantasy/paranormal

Publisher: Mictlan Press

Date of Publication: March 15, 2016

ISBN: 9780991303649

Number of pages: 345
Word Count: 100,000

Formats available:
Paperback and all ebook formats

Cover Artist: Shelby Robinson – artwork
Jennifer Stolzer – layout and design

Book Description:

How Far Would You Go To Get Your Life Back?

Stuck in the afterlife on an island encircled by fire and hunted by shadows bent on trapping them there forever, Irene and Andras struggle to hold onto the last vestiges of their physical selves, without which they can never return to the land of the living. But it’s not just external forces they’ll have to fight as the pair grow to realize they have different goals. Irene still clings to the hope that she can somehow return to her old life—the one she had before she died—while Andras would be only too glad to embrace oblivion.

Meanwhile, Jonah desperately searches for a way to cross over to the other side, even if doing so means his death. His crossing over, however, is the one thing that could destroy Irene’s chances of returning home.

Too many obstacles, too many people to save, and the thing Irene most desperately wants—to return to her old life—seems farther away than ever. Only one thing is clear: moving on will require making a terrible sacrifice.


Irene could hear voices. She shushed Andras and cocked her head. “I think there are people up ahead,” she said. The land, transitioning from black sand to short black grass, sloped upwards as it moved away from the shore, the white trees growing more plentiful until they turned into densely-packed forest.
Irene started forward with Andras behind her and followed the sound. The black grass crunched softly under foot as they mounted the gentle slope and approached the edge of the wood. Irene stopped to touch a tree—though it was knobby and gnarled, the surface was smooth as silk, without texture. Irene wasn’t sure what that meant, except she was pretty sure it wasn’t actually a tree.
At the top of the rise they stopped short in surprise as they came upon a scene straight out of a medieval tapestry. In a clearing amongst the gleaming white trees—these with dense clusters of bright pink leaves—stood a massive oaken dining table, large enough to seat thirty or more. Around this table, seated upon massive, hand-carved chairs like mini-thrones, were richly dressed men and women, resplendent in long and lavish flowing robes and gowns of velvet and damask in shades of vermilion, plum, garnet, hunter, and the like, all edged with embroidery, lace, and fur. The women wore Renaissance style hats of one or two peaks from which trailed gauzy veils, and the men wore large, floppy, velvet and ermine hats.
The table was heaped with luscious fruits and roasted meats and goblets of jewel-colored liquids, possibly wine, though the platters were covered over by a layer of fallen pink leaves, which fell lazily from the trees like tinkling musical notes, giving the impression that the platters hadn’t been touched for years. Bird-song permeated the grove, sweet and gentle, filling Irene with a sense of peace and tranquility.
Irene had a strange yearning to join the party at the table—to sit down with them, to drink from one of the cups, and to sample the food on the table. Her stomach rumbled—not with hunger so much as longing—and Irene put a hand to it, as if she could quiet it with the gesture.
The men and women around the table had been talking languorously, though Irene couldn’t make out their words—she thought they might have been speaking a foreign language—but as they became aware of Irene’s and Andras’s presence, the conversation slowly trailed off and then died.
“Uh, hello?” Irene said, cautiously, stepping forward. There was no trace of friendliness from the people. In fact, the atmosphere of the entire area seemed to be growing less friendly by the second. Even the bird-song had stopped.
Thirty pairs of eyes slowly swiveled to face Irene and Andras.
Irene gasped and stepped back. Now that they diners faced her, she could see what she hadn’t been able to see before: each person had the head of an animal—a goat, an ox, a horse, a fox, a cat, a crocodile…
A horse-headed woman in an apricot-colored robe rose to her feet. “You don’t belong here,” she said harshly, her frigid tone turning Irene’s blood to ice.
“I’m sorry… we got lost…” Irene said, clutching her bag tighter as alarm snaked through her.
“This place is not for you,” said a jaguar-headed man in carnelian robes, also rising to his feet.
Irene took a step back. The naked hostility was apparent now.
“I think we should go—” she said in an undertone to Andras.
There was a movement at the table, and then something whistled through the air, striking Irene on the shoulder hard.
“Ow!” she cried, as the projectile dropped to the ground—a rock. “Hey!” she cried angrily, rubbing the bruise, but then another rock hit her, this time thudding dully against the side of her head. Andras grunted and flinched as he, too, was hit.
“You don’t belong here,” the men and women at the table said, each rising one by one. More rocks followed. Irene backed away hastily.
“Alright! Alright! We’re going!”
The diners were all standing now, intoning “you don’t belong here” in unison as rocks rained down on Irene and Andras.
“Come on!” Andras shouted.
Following his lead, Irene turned and ran, rocks pelting her head, her shoulders, her back, her legs as she fled

About the Author:

Terri Bruce has been making up adventure stories for as long as she can remember and won her first writing award when she was twelve. Like Anne Shirley, she prefers to make people cry rather than laugh, but is happy if she can do either. She produces fantasy and adventure stories from a haunted house in New England where she lives with her husband and three cats. She is the author of the Afterlife Series, which includes Hereafter (Afterlife #1) and Thereafter (Afterlife #2) and several short stories including “Welcome to OASIS” (“Dear Robot” anthology, Kelly Jacobson publisher) and “The Well” (“Scratching the Surface” anthology, Third Flatiron Press).


Twitter: @_TerriBruce

Journey Man Release Day Blitz, Excerpt & Giveaway!

Journey Man
Knights of Black Swan
Book Nine
Victoria Danann

Genre: paranormal romance

Publisher: 7th House, Imprint of Andromeda LLC

Date of Publication: 04/07/16

ISBN: 978-1-933320-57-1 

Number of pages: 310
Word Count: 75k

Cover Artist: Victoria Danann

Book Description:

For five years, Glendennon Catch had knocked around the globe as a floater, filling in wherever a team of vampire hunters was down a member. He’d buried six good knights and watched the life take its toll on countless others. He’d drunk his share of whiskey and bedded so many women he would hate to hear the count, but he’d never gotten over his first love. And, if he had a chance for a do-over, he wasn’t sure he wouldn’t have chosen Rosie Storm over The Order. 

Elora Rose Storm had spent five years nursing a heavy heart, while on a cross-dimensional mission to make the world a better place, especially wherever she found human/animal hybrids being mistreated. She’d seen horrors, righted wrongs where she could, and matured into a powerful witch/demon with altruistic leanings. 

After all that time, unbeknownst to each other, both were headed home. To Jefferson Unit

Amazon     Amazon UK      iBooks     BN    Kobo


There was a soft knock on the open door.
Glen turned to see Rosie standing there, looking unbelievably beautiful and uncertain. He pinned Monq with a look that should have caused him to explode into millions of tiny bits. “You. Did. Not,” he said slowly and distinctly, each word dripping with outrage.
“I did,” Monq said casually as he rose from his chair. Looking at Rosie, he said, “Come in, my dear. We’re having sea bass with pasta primavera and Alfredo sauce.”
He gestured toward the table, but Rosie didn’t move. She looked at Glen and said, “I saw you a few nights ago. In the Hub. You walked right by, but I guess you didn’t see me.”
Glen’s dark eyes flashed as he sneered. “I saw you.”
“Oh,” she said in a quiet voice. She searched his face and couldn’t find anything of the boy who had loved her. In addition to the physical changes, he had a hard edge that broadcasted bitterness.
Monq decided he’d better establish himself as an arbiter or things were going to deteriorate quickly. “I understand you two used to know each other.”
Glen smirked and looked away, shaking his head. “No. Not really. I thought I knew her. Turned out not.”
Rosie was beginning to understand the depth of the hurt she’d delivered to her first love. She’d been too selfish, too immature, and too shortsighted to grasp the consequences of her rash behavior. Now that she’d come face to face with the results, it looked like it was far too late to do anything about it. The damage wasn’t just done. It had clearly reinfected itself again and again and festered past the point of repair.
She stood there staring at Glen, wondering if an apology would help or make things worse. Looking at the way he was clenching his jaw, she decided things couldn’t get any worse.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
Glen’s gaze jerked up to her eyes. He could see she was sincere and, if anything, it made him hate her more. At least it made him angrier.
“Oh, good. Dinner is here,” Monq exclaimed cheerfully.
All the while dinner was being set out Glen and Rosie continued to look at each other, but nothing changed. He was resolute in his rage. She was genuine in her contrition.
When the waiter was gone, Monq persuaded them to sit down at the table set for three.
“I don’t know how you see this playing out, old man.” said Glen to Monq.
“There’s no reason to be disrespectful to Mr. Monq,” Rosie chastised.
“Dr. Monq.” Monq corrected.
Clearly Glen didn’t like being chastised about manners, especially by Rosie. “I don’t know how you see this playing out, Dr. Monq, but no good can come from it.”
By that time Rosie was beginning to feel a little less sorry. “Oh? And why is that?” she asked.
“Because, wunderkind, you can’t change the past with a couple of words like ‘sorry’.”
“I know that, Glen. But apologizing is a start.”
“Really?” He bit out the word. “A start toward what?”
“It’s a start toward forgiveness and maybe, eventually, being friends again.”
He startled both Monq and Rosie by laughing out loud. “FRIENDS!?! Friends don’t give each other ultimatums and then disppear. FOR YEARS!”
Rosie sighed. “You’re right. That was dumb. And thoughtless. And if I could take it back…”
“Well, you can’t.” Glen fumed as he shoved a huge forkful of pasta into his mouth.
“Rosie, why don’t you tell us what you’ve been doing since you last saw Glen.”
“I’m not particularly interested in what she’s been doing,” Glen said, looking anywhere but at Rosie.
“Well,” she said to Monq, “I can tell you what he’s been doing. He’s been mastering the art of being an ass. You’ve changed, Glen.”
“I…” Monq started.
Glen cut him off. “You know what your problem is, Elora Rose? You haven’t changed. You’re still the same self-involved brat who thinks all she needs to do is prance back in here… Oh, look at me, I’m practically royalty. Black Swan’s precious little princess is sorry she made a mess.”
“You’re making this harder than it needs to be.”
“Yeah? And who gets to decide that? You? You get to decide everything, don’t you?”
“I made a mistake, Glen. A big one. But what you’ve made is a gigantic fucking mess of yourself.”
“You don’t know anything about me, little girl.”
Rosie stood up and threw her napkin down. “I know you’re the one releasing the hogs of war.”
Glen sat back and crossed his arms then gave her a smile that broke her and tugged at her heart strings at the same time. “That’s dogs of war,” he said with a smugness that made her want to smush his smarmy face.
“Forget what I said about being sorry. All I really want from you is to stay away from me.” As punctuation, on the way out of the room, she grabbed a pillow from Monq’s settee and threw it at Glen, who simply caught it and laughed.
“Fine by me.”
“Loser. Do you even have any friends?” She said it as a parting shot, but decided to add one last thing on her way out the door. “AND I DON’T PRANCE!”
That last question about having friends had hit a nerve with Glen. His taunting laughter melted into a seething anger that had him breathing hard.
“Bitch,” he fired back, but she was gone.
Monq said, “Well, that went better than I expected.”
Glen stood, glowering at Monq, then raised his dinner plate to shoulder height.
Monq managed to say, “Please! Not the fireplace again!”
Glen huffed. “How’s this?” He raised one bent leg and broke the plate over his own thigh.
As he stormed out of the room Monq said, “Dinner at seven tomorrow night. Don’t be late.”
Glen gave him the finger without turning around.
Monq sighed and looked at the broken plate and ruined food on the new carpet. He was thinking he was glad he’d opted for Alfredo sauce instead of marinara.

Tour Giveaway

$25 Amazon Gift Card.

To Enter subscribe to Victoria’s mailing list

About the Author:

New York Times and USA Today bestselling author of eleven romances. Victoria's Knights of Black Swan series won BEST PARANORMAL ROMANCE SERIES TWO YEARS IN A ROW. Reviewers Choice Awards, The Paranormal Romance Guild.

Her paranormal romances come with uniquely fresh perspectives on "imaginary" creatures, characters, and themes. She adds a dash of scifi, a flourish of fantasy, enough humor to make you laugh out loud, and enough steam to make you squirm in your chair. Her heroines are independent femmes with flaws and minds of their own whether they are aliens, witches, demonologists, psychics, past life therapists. Her heroes are hot and hunky, but they also have brains, character, and good manners. **Usually.

Victoria lives in The Woodlands, Texas with her husband and a very smart, mostly black German Shepherd dog.



Wednesday, April 6, 2016

Wild Man's Curse Tour, Excerpt, Guest Blog & Giveaway!

Wild Man’s Curse
Wilds of the Bayou Series
Book One
Susannah Sandlin

Genre: Romantic Suspense

Publisher: Montlake Romance

Date of Publication: April 5, 2016

ISBN: 978-1503934740

Number of pages: 284
Word Count: approx. 86,000

Cover Artist: Michael Rehder

Book Description:

The bones said death was comin’, and the bones never lied.

While on an early morning patrol in the swamps of Whiskey Bayou, Louisiana wildlife agent Gentry Broussard spots a man leaving the home of voodoo priestess Eva Savoie—a man who bears a startling resemblance to his brother, whom Gentry thought he had killed during a drug raid three years earlier. Shaken, the agent enters Eva’s cabin and makes a bloody discovery: the old woman has been brutally murdered.

With no jurisdiction over the case, he’s forced to leave the investigation to the local sheriff, until Eva’s beautiful heir, Celestine, receives a series of gruesome threats. As Gentry’s involvement deepens and more victims turn up, can he untangle the secrets behind Eva’s murder and protect Celestine from the same fate?

Or will an old family curse finally have its way?


The bones said death was comin’, and the bones never lied.
Eva Savoie leaned back in the rocking chair and pushed it into motion on the uneven wide-plank floor of the one-room cabin. Her grandpere Julien had built the place more than a century ago, pulling heavy cypress logs from the bayou and sawing them, one by one, into the thick planks she still walked across every day.
She had never known Julien Savoie, but she knew of him. The curse that had stalked her family for three generations had started with her grandfather and what he’d done all those years ago.
What he’d brought with him to Whiskey Bayou with blood on his hands.
What had driven her daddy to shoot her mama, and then himself, before either turned forty-five.
What had led Eva’s brother Antoine to drown in the bayou only a half-mile from this cabin, leaving a wife and infant son behind.
What stalked Eva now.
The bones said death was coming and, once Eva was gone, the curse should go with her. No one else knew the secrets of Julien Savoie and this cabin and that box full of sin he’d dug out of the bayou mud back in Isle de Jean Charles.
Might take a while, but sin catches up with you. Always had. Always would. And the curse had driven Eva to sin. Oh yes, she had sinned.
She’d known her reckoning would catch up with her, although it had taken a good long time. She’d turned seventy-eight yesterday, or was it eighty? She couldn’t remember for sure, and the bones said it didn’t matter now.
On the scarred wooden table before Eva sat three burning candles that filled the room with the soft, soothing glow of melting tallow. She’d made them herself, infusing them with the oil of the fragrant lilies that every spring spread a bright green carpet over the lazy, brown water of the bayou. The tools of her ritual sat on an ancient square of tanned hide passed down through generations of holy ones, of those blessed by the gods with the ability to throw the bones.
A small mound of delicate chicken bones, yellowed and fragile from age, lay inside the circle of light cast by the candles. Daylight would come in an hour or so, but Eva didn’t expect to last that long. Death was even now making his way toward her.
She leaned forward, wincing at the stab of pain in her lower back. Since the first throw of the bones had whispered her fate two days ago, she’d been cleaning. Scrubbed the floor, worn smooth by decades of bare feet. Washed the linens, folding them in neat piles in a drawer at the bottom of the old pie safe. Discarded most of the food in the little refrigerator that sat in the corner. Dragged the bag of trash down the long, overgrown drive past LeRoy’s old 1970 Chevy pickup that she still drove up to Houma for groceries and such once a month. Left the white bag at the side of the parish road for the weekly trash collection.
She’d spit on LeRoy’s truck as she passed it because she couldn’t spit on the man who bought it. He was long gone.
Now the cleaning had been finished. Whoever discovered her raggedy old body wouldn’t find a mess, not in Eva Savoie’s house.
A few minutes ago, with the old cabin as clean as she was capable of making it, she’d thrown the bones one last time. Part of her hoped they’d read different, hoped she’d be granted a few more days of grace.
But the bones still whispered death. Eva accepted it, and she sat, and she waited. At least the girl, Celestine, would inherit a cleaned-up house. The girl, Antoine’s granddaughter, knew nothing of the secrets, nothing of the curse. Eva had made sure of that….
Eva waited for her heart to fail—that seemed to be her most likely way to go. As she rocked she noted each steady beat, biding her time for the instant when the thump-thump-thump would falter and her breath would catch, then stop. She reckoned it would hurt a little, but what if it did? The curse had doled out worse ends to those who came before her.
She’d doled out worse herself.
The buzz of a boat’s motor sounded from outside the cabin, faint but growing louder. Wardens on patrol already, most likely.
The boat’s engine grew louder, finally coming to an abrupt stop so near, it had to be right outside her door. Silence filled the room once again, until through her bones she felt the thud of someone jumping onto the porch that wrapped around the cabin. The porch formed the platform on which the house sat, linking it to the spit of land behind it when the water was normal. When storms blew through, it provided an island on which the cabin could sit or, if need be, float.
As heavy footfalls crossed the porch, Eva struggled to her feet. Every pop and crackle of her joints knifed streaks of pain through her limbs as they protested the cleaning they’d done, followed by the sitting.
Prob’ly a game warden, checkin’ on her. Too bad he hadn’t stopped a little later, after she was gone. She didn’t like to think of her body having to bake in the hot cabin for days before anyone found her.
But the curse was what it was, and the bones said what they said.
The knock, when it came, was soft, and Eva reached the door with the help of a sturdy cane she’d carved herself. Opening the door, she squinted into the glare of a flashlight that seemed almost blinding after the soft light of the candles. She peered up at a young man with eyes that gleamed from beneath the hood of a jacket. He was not a game warden, and it was too hot for a jacket.
“Who are you?” Her voice cracked. She knew who he was. He was Death.
“The devil come to pay you a visit, Eva.” The man’s voice was smooth as silk, smooth as a lie, smooth as death itself. “And you know what the devil wants.”
She knew what he wanted, and she knew the only way to end the curse was to deny him.
She’d been granted no easy passing by the Savoie curse after all, but she would die today.
The bones never lied.

Author's Guest Blog Post

Genre Jumps: Paranormal Thriller versus Romantic Suspense

Susannah Sandlin

Sometime during the last couple of years, as I kept hearing about the death of paranormal fantasy and knew my publisher wasn’t buying paranormals anymore, I looked around with interest at other genres and wondered what else might capture my interest.

First, I love paranormals. I love the worldbuilding. I love finding ways to twist the old tropes of vampires and werewolves and zom…okay. I never liked zombies. I love the dance of science and magic that fantasy brings, the juxtaposition of the real and the fantastical.

I enjoy reading historical romance—all those proper folk put in compromising situations and repressed women letting their corsets loose. But I can’t imagine writing one. I’m too OCD about details; I’d never get one finished. I’m also too quirky, I think. I write quirky characters who do quirky things, and quirky doesn’t always work well in the historical worlds.

I enjoy historical fiction, too, but talk about stuff that doesn’t have a big readership.

Finally, I realized the solution was sitting right under my nose…or in my keyboard. What I write as Suzanne Johnson is urban fantasy with romantic elements. What I have written as Susannah Sandlin has been paranormal romance with urban fantasy elements.

What they all have in common are quirky characters, sexy humor, a lot of action, and my adopted home state of Louisiana. My characters have burned down wetlands in Plaquemines Parish, destroyed the parish courthouse in New Orleans, created a vampire stronghold in my former neighbor’s house in NOLA, created a scandal at LSU in Baton Rouge, and entranced half the deputies in the Terrebonne Parish prison. They’ve burned down houses, set a rollercoaster on fire, and gone on insane chases through the Atchafalaya swamps during hurricanes.

Somewhere in there, they have fallen in love with unlikely partners.

Humans can do most of those things too. It’s called “Romantic suspense” or “Romantic thrillers.”

I had my second genre all along. Plus, writing in Louisiana, I can always play with voodoo and Native American mysticism and keep one foot in the supernatural and one in the human world.

I wrote a couple of romantic suspense novels that I loved the premise of—following the bad guys instead of the hero/heroine from book to book—but turns out people want to see the bad guys get theirs so that idea didn’t quite work.

When I came up with the proposal for my new Wilds of the Bayou series, though, I knew this one had legs. The series follows a group of Louisiana Wildlife and Fisheries enforcement agents working in Terrebonne Parish, Louisiana. These are not the department biologists who clean the tar balls off the pelicans or study the effects of oil spills on wild game; they’re the cops of the department. They’re the badass agents with paramilitary training who are the first responders after a flood or other natural disaster, especially on water. They train to work in miserable heat and snake- and gator-filled waters to chase down everything from drug runners to poachers to you, if you’re doing something felonious. And don’t think they can’t arrest you just like any other law enforcement officer. They’re tough alpha males—and females.

And as heroine Celestine Savoie notes, there’s something about an alpha in a uniform that women love….she attributes it to their duty belts with all the equipment hanging off, emitting pheromones. I can’t attest to the truthfulness of that theory, however.

In WILD MAN’S CURSE, book one of the series, the pheromone-emitting hero is senior enforcement agent Gentry Broussard, who discovers the body of an elderly voodoo practitioner deep in the waters off Bayou Terrebonne. He also gets a look at the killer—a dead ringer, no pun intended, for his older brother Lang…except Lang’s been dead three years. Gentry killed him in a drug bust. Most people think he’s moved past it, but he hasn’t.

Gentry is forced to confront his feelings about his brother when the murdered woman’s heir, Celestine, comes back to Terrebonne to settle her great-aunt’s affairs. Before long he knows that whoever killed Eva is now after Celestine. He also knows he’s coming to care about her. Maybe a lot.

What he doesn’t realize is that Celestine Savoie has some skills of her own, learned at the bone-throwing table of her Tante Eva.

Voodoo. Native American rituals. Killers stalking the bayous and marshes of South Louisiana. Sexy heroes and strong, smart heroines. Try it; you’ll never miss the paranormal. 

About the Author:

Susannah Sandlin is the author of the award-winning Penton Vampire Legacy paranormal romance series, including the 2013 Holt Medallion Award-winning Absolution and Omega and Allegiance, which were nominated for the RT Book Reviews Reviewers Choice Award in 2014 and 2015, respectively. She also writers The Collectors romantic suspense series, including Lovely, Dark, and Deep, 2015 Holt Medallion winner and 2015 Booksellers Best Award winner. Her new series Wilds of the Bayou starts in 2016 with the April 5 release of Wild Man’s Curse. Writing as Suzanne Johnson, Susannah is the author of the award-winning Sentinels of New Orleans urban fantasy series. A displaced New Orleanian, she currently lives in Auburn, Alabama. Susannah loves SEC football, fried gator on a stick, all things Cajun, and redneck reality TV.

Twitter: @SusannahSandlin