Saturday, January 24, 2015

One Night with her Roommate blitz, Excerpt & Giveaway!

One Night with her Roommate 
Noelle Adams
(One Night novellas, #5)
Publication date: January 2015
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance



Synopsis:

Ever since her former roommates deserted her, Meg has had to share an apartment with a lazy, obnoxious ass. He won’t pick up after himself, and he refuses to get a good job. Plus, he doesn’t always wear enough clothes—which is really a problem, because he’s hot.

Maybe he’s occasionally funny. And every now and then he can be sweet. But mostly he’s just annoying. It doesn’t matter how much he’s starting to flirt with her—Meg is going to resist. She’s way too smart to fall for a guy who never takes anything seriously.

But then everything changes in only one night...


Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/24565871-one-night-with-her-roommate?ac=1
Purchase:
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/One-Night-Roommate-Noelle-Adams-ebook/dp/B00SER0484/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1421679830&sr=8-1&keywords=One+Night+with+her+Roommate+by+Noelle+Adams
B&N: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/one-night-with-her-roommate-noelle-adams/1121023686?ean=2940151728225
iBooks: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/one-night-with-her-roommate/id956846841?mt=11&uo=4






Excerpt

She started to dig into her purse for her keys, but she looked up to check out his expression. He looked uncharacteristically quiet. And his tone was uncharacteristically gentle as he asked, “You okay?”
“Of course,” she replied, trying to sound natural and peppy. “Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know. You tell me.”
“I’ve got nothing to tell you,” she said with a frown, feeling a familiar impatience return, since he was acting like he knew something of what she was feeling. “I’m happy for them. It’s great news.”
“Of course, it is. But that doesn’t mean happy is all you feel at hearing the news.”
She frowned, but her heart was starting to beat quickly, as if something important was about to happen. “Why would I be anything but happy for them?”
He stepped into her in a way that pressed her back against the door to her car. He braced a hand on the car beside her shoulder so he was kind of trapping her in place. But his expression wasn’t sexy or flirtatious. It was knowing and intimate somehow. “Maybe you’re kind of disappointed it’s not you.”
She gasped. “I’ve never had the slightest interest in Jake. Not the slightest!”
“I know that,” he murmured with a smile, his eyes almost caressing her face. “I meant maybe you’re disappointed that the engagement, the wedding, the marriage, the whole rosy fairytale isn’t happening to you.”
“Well, I’m not. I’m perfectly happy not being married.” It was the truth, so she could say it with wide eyes and no dissemblance.
His expression shifted, got a little warmer in a way she was very familiar with. “So you don’t secretly have daydreams about settling down in domestic bliss with me?”
Her pulse was throbbing wildly from his closeness and from the continued intimacy of his gaze, but she couldn’t keep a giggle from bubbling up. “You’re the last guy I’d daydream about domestic bliss with.”
“Ah, it must be other kinds of bliss I’m giving you in your daydreams.”
She flushed hot as his eyes were suddenly all about sex. All. About. Sex.
It took a minute for her recover, but her voice was mostly even when she said, “You don’t star in any of my daydreams. That’s your overinflated ego talking.” She clutched at the strap of her purse with both hands, since she desperately wanted to touch East’s chest.
It was only a couple of inches away.

a Rafflecopter giveaway


AUTHOR BIO

Noelle handwrote her first romance novel in a spiral-bound notebook when she was twelve, and she hasn’t stopped writing since. She has lived in eight different states and currently resides in Virginia, where she teaches English, reads any book she can get her hands on, and offers tribute to a very spoiled cocker spaniel.

She loves travel, art, history, and ice cream. After spending far too many years of her life in graduate school, she has decided to reorient her priorities and focus on writing contemporary romances.

Author links:
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6572847.Noelle_Adams
http://noelle-adams.com/
https://twitter.com/NoelleAdams3
https://www.facebook.com/NoelleAdamsAuthor


Friday, January 23, 2015

A Heart for Copper Tour, Excerpt & Giveaway!

A Heart for Copper
Sharon Lynn Fisher

Genre: Steampunk romance

Publisher: SilkWords

Date of Publication: May 9, 2014

ASIN: B00LDYFKQ6

Number of pages: 67 pages
Word Count: 14K

Cover Artist: Indie Designz

Book Description: 

An automaton created by an inventor's son, Copper has finally been given a heart by her young master. Her choice of whether to keep the key or give it to him will determine what happens next in this "pick your path" steampunk fairy tale.

Will she join his family in their English country manor, where she'll be forced to consider the question of whether she's really human? Or will she search out the quirky alchemist responsible for giving her life?

Will her master hold onto her heart, or will she be tempted by the charms of an automaton man?





SilkWords is the go-to source for interactive romance and erotic fiction.

With gorgeous custom covers and a clean, sophisticated design, the SilkWords site offers a secure, upscale reading environment. In addition to content on their web site, they offer stories for purchase in the standard e-book formats.

SilkWords is owned and operated by a full-time mom with a background in genetics and an RWA RITA-nominated, multi-published sci-fi romance author.

Their technology guy and site designer was the founder of Microsoft Xbox Live.

SilkWords features two formats that allow readers to choose how the stories will proceed.

Pick Your Path:

Will she or won't she? With which man (or woman) in which location? With Pick Your Path romance, you decide. Romance and branched fiction are made for each other, like picking your favorite flavor of ice cream...positions, partners, and paraphernalia, oh my!

Reader Vote:

Readers vote at choice points and decide how the story will continue. These stories are a great way for readers and authors to connect. It’s exciting to be part of a developing story!





Excerpt

I have a heart-shaped hole. Like an empty bird's nest, it rests among marigold-hued ruffles above the topmost hook of my corset.

The hole was not left by something removed, but for something anticipated.

I am an automaton. I have never moved of my own volition — never lifted so much as a finger, save by the power of the windup mechanism at my back. Never felt a chill-bump, or the orange yarn rising on the back of my chicken-wire neck. My amethyst eyes follow my young master without motion. The dead, glass eyes of a doll. My face no more than a bone-colored mask with faint pink smudges where my cheekbones would be.

If I were alive.

My brain is sacking stuffed with cotton, my torso salvaged from a discarded mannequin. My limbs are dark, spindly things, like they belong on crows. But my master has wrapped them in ivory silk, and in the dim light of his workshop, I can pretend they are arms like his.

I am not a living thing, but the work of man's hands. Man does not give life. Not since The Regression. The Digital Age machines are all dead. My master was born into the Neoclassical Age, named not for cultural or artistic reasons, but for the laws of science to which all citizens are required to conform. Post-classical physics are banned. Reserved for the gods, the only ones fit to wield them.

How does a stuffed-head, cobbled-together, life-sized doll know all this? Know anything at all? Because my master talks to me. Reads to me. From the time he was a schoolboy, he has shared every lesson with me, from The Odyssey to odious French (his descriptor, not mine). I was his schoolmate. Watched him grow to manhood while I remained the same, unless he himself wrought change — replacing dingy fabric with fresh, tinkering with moving parts, shifting my head so I could watch him work.

I spend many lonely hours in my master's workshop, when he is away at school or in the city with his family. In those hours I feel empty and soulless, and I have often prayed that when he loses interest in me — which he inevitably shall —he will also unmake me, rather than leave me collecting dust in my chair.

For my master is the only light in my life, though I am no more to him than the toy ships he played with as a boy. Less than the pup who licked his heels, followed his footsteps, and finally sank into a straw-stuffed bed near the fire, from which, occasionally, I still hear the thump, thump, thump of tail against floorboards.

***

"Hullo, Dutch. Hullo, Copper."

Thump, thump, thump.

If I could have wagged, I would have. Master William entered the workshop, light beaming from his every feature. I knew the expression well. He'd been out in The World. He'd encountered something — or someone — interesting. Something he wished to share with me. You'd think he'd tire of my colossal implacability.

"I have something for you," he said, sinking onto the stool in front of me.

At moments like these I almost imagined that the hole in my chest had been filled. I could feel an ache there — an ache that should not have been. His eyes were green as the ribbons of my corset. His hair black as the coal in the bin. His lips were soft and expressive, like the women of the house — his mother, his elder sister, the chambermaids. Master William was everything lovely, everything beloved, in my dust, dark world.

He slipped a bronze chain from his pocket. A necklace, with a heart-shaped pendant — the shape of the symbol, not the visceral, beating thing itself.

The shape of the hole in my chest.

Tiny metal gears and copper springs were encased behind a small glass window embedded in the crimson resin. It was beautiful, a work of art. As I watched, he slid open a small compartment in the back of the pendant and produced a key. He held out the pendant in the palm of his hand.

"Happy birthday, Copper," he whispered.

The echo of my nonexistent heartbeat sounded in my cottony brain, behind my porcelain mask.

If my lips had breath, his proximity would have stopped it as he moved to slip the chain around my neck, letting the heart fall into its readymade grave. Pinching the key between his fingers, he inserted it into a tiny keyhole in the tapered bottom of the heart.

Bolts sprang from the sides of the pendant, penetrating the stuffing in my chest, locking the heart in place. I felt it as if I were flesh and bone.

A loud, dry, sucking sound came from my throat as I took my first breath.

Master William's eyes widened — with shock? with horror? — as the change took me over. The pain was excruciating.

"The old woman was right," he murmured, aghast.

I could barely hear him from behind the wall of pain — or over the very real pounding in my chest. His face blurred, and I was sure I felt moisture seeping from the holes in my mask. What was happening to me?

"You must choose, Copper," he continued. "Hephaesta said if you want to be like me, you must give me the key. If you want to be like you, you must keep it."

I glanced down at the tiny thing of brass still lodged in the base of my heart. 

What did it mean? A riddle, perhaps? What was I to do?

"Quickly," he said, worry dimming his brightness. "The heart will stop beating without the choice."

Pain spiked up my arm as I raised it from my side. My wooden, wire-jointed fingers wiggled to life. I grasped the key and removed it. 

1. I've waited all my non-life for this. I give him the key.
2. I want to find out who I am. I keep the key.





About the Author:


An RWA RITA Award finalist and a three-time RWA Golden Heart Award finalist, Sharon Lynn Fisher writes stories for the geeky at heart — meaty mash-ups of sci-fi, suspense, and romance, with no apology for the latter. She lives where it rains nine months of the year. And she has a strange obsession with gingers (down to her freaky orange cat).

Sharon has written three science fiction romance novels for Tor Books — Ghost Planet (2012), The Ophelia Prophecy (2014), and Echo 8(2015) — and she's indie publishing her erotica series Fantasies in Color.

She’s also the editorial director for (and a partner in) SilkWords!










Love & Other Lies blitz, Excerpt & Giveaway!

Love & Other Lies 
Madeline Ash
Published by: Destiny Romance
Publication date: January 20th 2015
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance



Synopsis:
Small town vet Abby Benson has fled to the country to put her shameful past behind her. She’s just beginning to find her feet again when handsome stranger, Rue Thorn, arrives in town and begins to stir things up. Rue is gorgeous, kind and thoughtful and the two share an instant attraction. But convinced he’ll despise her if he learns about her history, Abby reluctantly keeps him at arms length.

Determined to win Abby over, Rue tries to reshape himself as the sort of guy he thinks she might be interested in. And for a while it seems his act is working. But when he finds out that Abby has been lying to him, it isn’t long before everything start to unravel …

A moving story of trust, forgiveness and the power of love from the author of Uncovered by Love and The Playboy’s Dark Secret.


Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/23923046-love-other-lies
Purchase:
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Love-Other-Lies-Destiny-Romance-ebook/dp/B00R3PAW3A/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1421418899&sr=8-1&keywords=Madeline+Ash


Excerpt

Wednesday morning, Abby checked her watch as she hurried out of the bakery, paper bag in hand, ten minutes late for work. All Rue’s fault. If he would stop being seen around town – browsing the market, enquiring about nature walks, eating lunch with a healing Spindle in tow – everyone would leave her alone. But this was the third morning in a row that she’d been sidled up to and asked whether he’d persuaded her yet.
These people seriously had no shame.
She slid the change into her wallet and glanced up to see Rue leaning against her four-wheel drive, parallel parked on Main Street. She halted, stomach hitching. He was looking away, one ankle crossed over the other, hands in the pockets of those faded denim jeans. He wore sunglasses, the burnt brown lenses and thin gold rims working with the dishevelled hair to push him into clandestine superstar territory.
He’d been detected. Curious faces peered through shop windows, and Tanya loitered on the street corner, typing on her phone with eyes set on Rue. When she noticed Abby, she gave an outrageously obvious wink.
This was going to necessitate an official change in her working hours.
Abby hadn’t seen Rue since he’d visited the vet. Two days with nothing but a light on across the street to show he was still in town. Two days to remember how darkly she could hurt people and know for absolute certain she couldn’t run the risk of hurting him too.
As she considered hightailing it, he spotted her. He pushed off the car and started towards her. His walk was smooth, assured. The possibility that he was going to ask her out again sent nerves sprinting from her heart to her toes and back again.
She would have to say no.
No to that determined stare meeting hers as he shoved his shades onto his head. No to that kind heart and beautiful body. No to everything she wanted. Just no.
When he was a few strides away, she inhaled. ‘Rue—’
‘Hold that thought,’ he murmured as he reached her, sliding a hand behind her head and bringing his mouth down to hers.
Startled, Abby dropped the bakery bag. His body came closer, hand still cradling the back of her neck, the other skimming down her waist to tug her fully against him. Heat and contact met her skin and shot deeper, raging in her chest, tangling in the base of her stomach. He slanted his head and the warmth of his mouth shifted, tongue sliding over her bottom lip, not demanding entrance, but working for it. Working, playing, teasing – whatever he was doing, he did it like no man had before.
She could smell his skin. Hear the pounding of her pulse. His thumb caressed the hollow behind her ear and the tenderness of that touch tore through her body like a scream.
Deafened by it, she opened her mouth and drew him in.
His taste was an ache against her tongue, so pure and perfect that she missed it even as he pushed deeper. She circled her arms around his middle, holding on, feeling her breasts and belly and thighs press against muscle. She felt like she could never speak again and that would be all right, if she could stay right here. No lies, no restraint, just Rue’s kiss and the truth of her body’s response.
He’d probably be okay with that.
Those wide hands slid down to grasp her hips. Holding her steady, he broke away from her mouth and kissed up and along her right cheekbone. Abby closed her eyes as his lips reached her ear, tingles breaking out down her spine.
‘I hardly know you,’ he murmured, nudging the curl of her ear with his nose. ‘So how is it that I feel like I’ll always know you?’
She didn’t speak. Didn’t dare.
‘I can feel you in my head,’ he said, forehead on her temple. ‘You make me feel like there’s something urgent I haven’t done yet, and I can’t put my finger on what it is, but every day that I get closer to leaving this place, I get more uneasy. So I need to do something about it. About you.’
His mouth found hers again and it occurred to Abby that everything Rue knew about her was real. There was a pit of things he didn’t know – but the things he did know, those were real.
She had never kissed a man who knew real things about her.
He pulled back again, tucking hair behind her ear, and her pulse tumbled. ‘You must like being the subject of gossip,’ she murmured.
His back was to the street. A sparkle lit his eyes. ‘Observers?’
‘Loads.’
‘All armed with opinions about such a lascivious public event?’
‘Over-armed, I imagine.’
‘Friday,’ he said. ‘I’ll pick you up at seven.’
‘About that—’
‘Okay, seven-thirty.’ Then, as suddenly as he’d kissed her, he lowered his sunglasses and turned away, cutting past the delighted spectators. Abby watched his retreat, breath short. Arousal kneaded at her body from the inside out, like greedy fingers reaching after him.
As far as truth went, her response to Rue was absolute. It felt whole and untainted, pounding hot through her veins. It felt honest.
‘Well,’ she said, accepting her fate. ‘Seven-thirty, then.’




AUTHOR BIO

Madeline lives and writes in Melbourne. She is an author with Destiny Romance and Tule Publishing.

Online, she calls madelineash.net home, although she does have capricious blogging tendencies so might not always have fresh tea ready for visitors. That's not to say she doesn't welcome company.

She writes contemporary romance.

Author links:
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6856663.Madeline_Ash
https://www.facebook.com/MadelineAshAuthor
https://twitter.com/Madeline_Ash
http://madelineash.net/



Thursday, January 22, 2015

Exchange of Fire Tour, Guest Post & Giveaway!

Exchange of Fire, SBG #1
P.A. DePaul
Series: SBG
Published: Aug 19, 2014
Publisher: Penguin Intermix
Format: ebook
Genre: Romantic Suspense


Faking her death was easy, living with her past is harder, but nothing is more dangerous than falling in love…

Sandra Walsh was a deadly sniper for the Sweet Briar Group, a covert agency with assassins for hire, until her last mission went horribly wrong, accidentally killing an innocent girl. Knowing she’s a danger to her team, Sandra goes off the grid, becoming a Shade—an agent declared dead but secretly hiding among the living. She intends to honor her vow never to pull another trigger or have contact with the spy world again. Until she meets Casper Grady…

Grady is a former Marine with a troubled past and a debt to pay. His life mission has gone from protecting the nation to helping local children and their families. The moment he meets Sandra, he knows there’s more to her than meets the eye, but he can’t help but be drawn to the mysterious femme fatale. And when Sandra’s past suddenly catches up to her, Grady is determined to protect her at all costs, no matter how dark and dangerous her secrets are.

As the danger increases, so does their intense attraction. But when they’re forced to choose between each other and the people they’ve sworn to protect, their growing love might not be enough to keep them together—or alive…

Purchase Links



Guest Post by P.A. DePaul

Thank you Share My Destiny for hosting me today! My name is P.A. DePaul and I’m the author of the Romantic Suspense, SBG series. Exchange of Fire, SBG #1 introduces a clandestine Black Ops team working for SweetBriar Group (AKA SBG), a corporation the rest of the world believes is an environmental company.
One of the top questions I’m asked is how I researched for Exchange of Fire. I used the internet, library, bookstore, and… today’s topic: Writer’s Police Academy.
Attending the Writer’s Police Academy has been invaluable in so many ways. For two years I’ve been able to attend this awesome academy (which is getting harder and harder to do since attendance is limited and its popularity is increasing). What is the Writer’s Police Academy (WPA)? So glad you asked! To quote their website (because they define it best) “The Writer’s Police Academy offers the most hands-on, interactive and educational experience writers can find to enhance their understanding of all aspects of law enforcement and forensics. This is a one of a kind event, featuring real police, fire, and EMS training at an actual police academy. Top instructors and experts!”
Nice! I need as much help as I can get. Writing about Black Ops teams completing covert missions doesn’t exactly make it easy to find information. Cue the top instructors and experts part of the definition. Men and women traveled to Greensboro, NC from all over the country to give workshops and demonstrations. They gave up their days off to stand in front of bunch of authors and talk about what they know best. Thank God.
Authors are a weird bunch (Yes, I include myself in this statement). We want to know the nitty-gritty. We lobbed off-the-wall questions and macabre scenarios at these experts and they coughed up the answers—sometimes after pausing, blinking, and stuttering with laughter. I did mention we’re a weird bunch, right?
Now, I’d take over this blog if I tried to list every expert I got to talk to or attend a workshop for over the last two years. There are just that many and I don’t think Share My Destiny would appreciate it. <grin> So, I promised myself I’d stick to a handful of key contacts who I can call on with my questions as I write the SBG series.
Having one of the top snipers in the country on my list of experts is jaw-dropping and invaluable. I can’t stress the last word in that sentence enough. I can’t begin to describe the time and attention he has given me over the years answering all my varied questions. He’s drawn charts and pictures, responded with long emails explaining a certain point in detail (thank goodness), he’s given me sources for more information, and he’s allowed me to hold and lay down behind his rifle as he continues to explain his world. In Exchange of Fire, Wraith, a female sniper, would not be as badass with his expertise.
Other contacts on my short list include a police chief in Louisiana, a NY Times bestselling author who used to be an explosives expert, a chief pilot, a fire marshal, an ATF special agent, and a microbiologist. Seriously cool! I want to go into detail for each one of these experts like I had for my sniper contact, but I have to turn the blog back over. I will state that without these experts willing to give up their time to talk to us and to field questions beyond the workshop, the SBG series would’ve been almost impossible to write with any type of believability. I truly thank them for that.
Just like I thank you so much for taking the time to experience one of the nuances of attending the Writer’s Police Academy with me! Do you have questions for me? Woots! Bring ‘em on. I’m ready!





The Giveaway!

PA is offering a tour wide giveaway of 5-- $10 Amazon or B&N gift cards (winner’s choice) plus 4 e-copies of Exchange of Fire (sent via Netgalley). Just check out today’s post, leave a comment, and then fill out the giveaway widget!


About the Author

P.A. DePaul is a multi-genre romance author including paranormal fantasy and romantic suspense. She originally hails from Carroll County and Baltimore County, Maryland, but also lived in Macon and Warner Robins, Georgia. She currently resides in a beautiful community just outside Philadelphia. Exchange of Fire is the first novel in the SBG series with the second novel, Shadow of Doubt, releasing April 2015




Follow the Tour!

Be sure to check out all of the stops! Read fun,new content at each stop plus learn extra ways to enter the giveaway! For the main event page please visit… this page.

CODE FOR BLOGGER BLOGS



Victim Souls Tour, Excerpt & Giveaway!

Victim Souls
Andrew Terech

Genre: Supernatural Horror

ISBN-13: 978-0692330234
ISBN-10: 0692330232
ASIN: B00PEASG6Q

Number of pages: 386
Word Count: 91,000

Cover Artist: Brianna Strawn

Book Description:

Sometimes, only bad guys can beat the Devil…

The plan is simple: get the money and deliver the car. What could possibly go wrong?

What can’t?

Things start to go south when Sam Drake realizes that his brother Johnny is hiding something, a secret about Sam’s troubled childhood that goes beyond his most feverish nightmares…

Then Johnny’s girlfriend, Ash, starts sending Sam the kind of mixed signals that can only lead to big trouble…

As the trio of small time crooks falls deeper into an abyss of betrayal and violence, they will discover that the greatest danger they face is not of this world.

With everything he believes about himself and the world around him shattered, Sam will become the unlikely champion in a battle with true evil, a fight to save a soul that has already been forfeited to darkness.

His own.

Available at Amazon

Excerpt

The silver barrel of the Colt .45 glimmered in Johnny’s hand. The obese clerk behind the counter held his arms up, eyes darting to each of our faces. His brown-stained, white t-shirt clung to his sweaty man tits. Moisture dripped off his scraggly goatee onto his protruding gut. The ceiling fan above him worked hard, trying to cool down the un-air-conditioned, Arizona shit-hole that smelled like armpits and rotting cheese. A large bullet hole from Johnny’s warning shot sat two feet from the clerk’s head, along with the standard wall of cigarettes and liquor bottles acting as a reminder of the poor bastard’s purpose in life.
Johnny’s smirking mouth twitched with excitement. He had a scary look in his eyes—a man possessed with rage.
Ash clung to him, her blond hair draped over his shoulder. Her hand gently palmed his shaved head as she leaned toward the side of his face.
            She whispered something in his ear.
            Butterflies sliced the inside of my stomach with razor wings. This wasn’t the way we did things. We were escalating. Normally, I kept everyone cool, levelheaded. All control had gone out the window.
            Simple Bob behind the counter sobbed, looking terrified. Part of me felt pity for the guy, but it was too late to turn back. “I don’t wanna be a part of no trouble, now,” he said. “Why don’t y’all take what ya need and go? Please, I got a family.” He glared at Ash.  Four kids.”
            Johnny cackled. “Family? You hear this guy, Sammy? He’s got a fuckin’ family.” Johnny gestured toward me. “That’s my family over there. My little brother. I practically raised the pecker. Parents were killed… come to think of it—by a fat, drunk piece of shit like you. So don’t talk to me about family.”
            I glanced at the clock above the entrance—eight minutes had passed. “Johnny, come on man.”
            Ash sneered at me. “Not now. This is grown up time. Go grab us some food or something.” Her dismissive tone dug into my nerves.
            “Go fuck yourself!” I spat. The last thing I needed was that crazy bitch feeding Johnny’s frenzy.
            “Quit it, bro. I got this,” Johnny said.
As usual he sided with the short jean shorts and tight, red tank top—a little cleavage and ass were all it took for him to forget about his own brother. “Get the cash and let’s go,” I said. “Stop messing around.”
Johnny glanced at me. “You think you could do better?”
I froze, unable to come up with a response, probably because I knew I couldn’t. Johnny took care of the hold-up. I collected the goods and kept us on point. That was our system, and it worked. Ash, on the other hand, was new to the mix. All she managed to do was waste time and get Johnny more amped than a rabid pit bull on cocaine. How he decided that was helpful, I have no idea. Things ran smooth before she stuck her pretty ass in the mix. Now instead of in-and-out with hands full of cash, we were wasting time scaring some poor, fat slob half to death. And for what, I wondered, shits and giggles?
I glanced back at the clock. Ten minutes in, and we were still dicking around. I started to tell Johnny our time was running out. From the corner of my eye, the clerk reached beneath the counter.
“Hey!” Ash shouted before I could react.
Johnny swung his arm, smacking the butt of the gun across the fat bastard’s face. “What did I tell you? Huh!”
The clerk stumbled back. The weight of his body slammed into the wall of cigarettes and cigars. He slid to the floor as dozens of boxes rained down around him.
My heart pounded. I took several deep breaths. We’d never had a close call like that before.
Ash pulled out her butterfly knife and flipped it open. “We need to deal with him.”
Johnny clenched his jaw as he leaned over the counter, pointing the gun. “Get up! Now!”
The blubbering man slowly rose up, his hands in the air, snot dripping from the pubes on his chin.
“What’s your name, buddy?” Johnny asked, switching to a calmer tone.
“T-T-Tony.”
            With a big smile on his face, Johnny slammed his fist on the counter. “Tony! That’s a strong name. Like Tony fucking Soprano.”
            Tony jumped and backed into the wall behind him again. His flabby arm knocked down a couple liquor bottles. He flinched as the glass shattered on the tile floor. I reminded myself to at least swipe some good booze when we were done.
            Johnny grabbed the knife from Ash’s hand and gave her the gun. “Hold this for me, baby.”
            I glanced at the clock—twelve minutes. “Bro, we’re coming up on fifteen. Forget him. You don’t have to do this.”
            “We’re in the middle of nowhere. We’re fine! And for the record,” he twirled the blade in his hand, “I’ll do whatever the fuck I want!”
I’d had it with Johnny’s unchecked arrogance. He always screwed with people, but he didn’t hurt anyone unless he had to. Tony may have been a liability, but if we’d stuck to the plan it wouldn’t have come to this.
            Thirteen minutes.
            Ash put her arm around Johnny, resting the gun on his shoulder, conveniently pointing it at my face.
            I took a step toward the counter, out of the line of fire. No way I trusted that bitch with a gun in her hand.
She flashed a smile in my direction.
            “Put your hand out on the table.” Johnny said.
            Tony extended his shaking arm. Johnny grabbed his wrist, pulled him forward, and slammed his hand onto the counter.
Tony yelped. “Please.”
My heart raced as my brother hovered the knife over Tony’s hand. “Come on bro…”
            Johnny’s finger shot up, motioning me to be quiet. “Tony. I’m going to teach you a little lesson in trust.”



About the Author:

Andrew’s a horror fiction writer who is also a massive fan of the genre. He’s been writing short stories and working on his novel for over 5 years. He has several short stories published, as well as some editing credits. He moderates a writing workshop in Phoenix, AZ where he’s been exposed to many different forms of fiction, which have broadened his influences. He aims to write stories that creep out his readers, while offering well-developed, rich characters they can sink their teeth into. He’s also a fan of experimenting with form and structure to create something uniquely my own.

Andrew grew up on Long Island in New York, and has lived in Arizona for the past 7 years. His professional background is in psychology where he’s carved out a nice career for himself. However, writing has always been his passion.

Currently, he’s hard at work, developing additional content to publish. He hopes to find an audience that loves the genre, and is up for a good scare.


Twitter @AndrewTerech




Wednesday, January 21, 2015

Going Under Tour, Excerpt & Giveaway!

Going Under
Secret Blood
Book 3
Emma Weylin

Genre: Paranormal Romance

Publisher: Liquid Silver Books

Date of Publication: December 1, 2014

ISBN: 978-1-62210-169-6
ASIN: B00P6SGAVE

Number of pages: 257
Word Count: 64,000

Book Description:

Kenzie Butler is in love with the man who saved her life eight years ago. Her problem? He’s a Siberian were-tiger with the ability to scent his mate, and she wasn’t it. For years they lived across the hall from each other, helping one another with the aftermath from being tortured in a science experiment gone wrong. With each passing day, she falls more in love with him, even while knowing that one day Tiberius will find his true mate.

Tiberius Petrov leads a shadowed life. Kenzie is the only thing standing between him and the gruesome fate awaiting any shifter who goes rogue. For eight years the sound of her voice, the sweet intoxication of her scent, and the soft feel of her skin have kept him from turning down darker paths. But he’d always believed she could never be his. His nose was supposed to tell him who his perfect mate is, but it lied. He didn’t know if it was possible to develop a mate scent. All he knew was one day Kenzie didn’t smell like his mate, and the next day she did. Even after her scent changed, she kept insisting they were perfect as just friends.

After Kenzie survives a mysterious were-bear attack in her place of work, Tiberius learns the scientists altered more than his state of mind. Just when he thought he could take Kenzie as his mate he discovers he could be the biggest threat to her life.

Available at Amazon


Excerpt

He got off the creaking chair. He found his pants first, and tugged those on, and then started the search for his shirt. “Kenzie, I lost control with you, goddamn it. You need to go, no, stay here. I’ll send Chad over.” He scrubbed a hand down his face. “Where is my fucking shirt?”

She was standing in front of him in the next moment. Her soft breasts brushing against his chest. “Look at me.”

He growled. “Kenzie, I know when I am losing it, and I am losing it.”

She captured his face between her hands and pulled him down so they were at eye level. “It’s completely normal to fantasize about what you want to do while having sex.” She kissed his nose. “You fantasized about me and you being mated. It’s okay.”

He wasn’t safe for her, but here she was, trying to make it right for him. Hellcats! She was…she was supposed to be safe with him, and in one second of giving in to the fantasy of her, he’d have done the worst, most unforgivable thing a shifter could do. “I’m not safe for you, Kenz. Please, don’t make this harder than it is.”

“Ty, don’t do this. You need to calm down and think about this rationally.” “I need my shirt.” He pulled away from her and got down on his hands and knees to check under the bed.

Kenzie got down on the floor next to him. “It’s in your apartment.”

He darted back. “Put some clothes on. I’ll have Chad come here.”
“Tiberius.”

He retreated to the door. “Tiberius Petrov, you did not just make love to me so you could walk out on me.”

That was exactly what he was going to do. He should be her safe place, he should be the one thing in the whole world that would never hurt her, and he wasn’t sure until after the fact that he hadn’t hurt her. “I’m sorry, Kenz. I love you too much to stay.” Then he did the hardest thing he’d ever done. He walked away from her.




About the Author:

Emma Weylin fell in love with the written word as a child. She loves to create her own worlds full of magic and wonder. One of her favorite things is populating those worlds with interesting and true-to-life characters who experience everything from epic love and heartrending battles to seriously silly or embarrassing “duh” moments. She believes love can and does conquer all things. When she’s not writing, she enjoys her family and has a copious yarn addiction.