Saturday, September 5, 2015

Legends blitz, Excerpt & Giveaway!

Legends
Doug Solter
(Skid #3)
Publication date: September 2nd 2015
Genres: Contemporary, Young Adult


Synopsis:

Looking for an exciting young adult read about a kick-butt girl that doesn’t revolve around high school?

Meet Samantha. She drove the car that killed her dad. Now racked with guilt, the 18-year-old-girl racer dedicates her life to becoming what her dad always planned her to be…a racing champion. Now demoted to number three driver, Samantha feels alienated from her friends on the crew and Manny. And the worst part of it is…she knows it was all her fault.

Determined to make amends and save her Formula One career, Samantha re-commits herself to winning the championship. But how? How can she convince her boss to give back her car? How can she convince the crew that she’s changed? And how can she win eight consecutive races against the best drivers in the world? That’s what it will take for her to have a shot at the world championship.

Manny doesn’t like to create waves. His uncle owns the racing team, but the crew teases the boy like one of their own. But that’s okay. Manny dreams of designing his own race cars and he thought his girlfriend Samantha would race them. But she tossed him to the side when the self-absorbed racing star took over from the small-town girl from Oklahoma that he fell in love with.

Samantha needs an edge. She needs that revolutionary new transmission Manny designed that made her car so nimble and fast. But Manny hates her. She neglected him so bad that he broke up with her. Why would the boy help her? Especially when Manny’s ex-girlfriend is making her move to take Samantha’s place.

The world now thinks Samantha Sutton is a joke. Solid proof that girls don’t belong in a race car.

She doesn’t have a choice. Samantha must prove the world wrong.


Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/26014097-legends?ac=1


Purchase:
(Skid (book 1) is free and Rivals (book 2) is only 0.99 this month so readers can get caught up with the series!)
Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Legends-Skid-Young-Adult-Racing-ebook/dp/B01359CXPM/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1441032663&sr=1-1&keywords=legends+doug



Excerpt
Chapter 1
Munich, Germany

The human shell that bears my name wears jeans, a little makeup, and a St. Louis Cardinals baseball cap. She feels hollow. Like her guts have been scooped out. The guts that made her take risks. The jittery stomach that made her puke before a race. The pulsing heart that made her fall in love. The delicate tissues that made her human. Made her real.
It’s all been sucked out of her.
Shutting my eyes, I listen to the sounds around me in the first-class departure lounge. A man speaks to his wife in German. He’s flying to Toronto on business and must be on the phone since he’s telling her when his plane is scheduled to leave. A woman in a strong Jersey accent scolds her child for making a fuss over her drink. Yeah, she’ll be sitting right next to us on our flight, I bet.
I tune out the voices and stretch on this comfy leather couch I found.
The silk scarf covering my face lifts as my sister leans in to destroy my moment of nirvana.
“Are you gonna be moody on the plane too?” Paige asks.
“Yes.” I grab the scarf and place it back over my face.
Paige lifts the scarf again. “Do you want a cookie? The walnut chocolate-chips are wicked.”
“No.” I take it from her again. I don’t wanna talk. Eat. Or experience life. I want life to leave me alone for a while. Or better yet, forget that Samantha Sutton ever existed.
Doesn’t Paige get the message? Do I have to spell everything— 
Paige lifts the scarf. “Please stop feeling sorry for yourself. You’ll get through this. Everything will be mucho better. You’ll see.”
A spark of rage throws me off the couch and into my sister’s face. “Shut up. You don’t know anything. My future is gone. I screwed up my entire life and I don’t need my baby sister acting like she knows what’s best for me because you don’t know crap. You’re useless to me right now. Do you understand? Useless. Go bother someone else with your condescending wisdom.”
Paige wants to cry, but she somehow chokes off the tears. She stands and grabs her purse before shuffling out of the lounge.
Good. Now I’ll have some freaking peace.
I lie down on the leather couch. Voices murmur around me. Fingers point. That loud argument with Paige draws the room’s attention to that eighteen-year-old girl on the couch. That girl who looks oddly familiar because she took off her stylish Italian scarf and her large designer sunglasses that disguised her identity.
Crap.
Please leave me alone. I don’t want to be her. I want to be a nameless traveler. A plain, uninteresting girl you would pass in the hallway without a second peek.
I throw on my sunglasses, hoping it will make me invisible again.
Wrong.
Their hushed voices start it off.
“Is that the girl who…?”
“Samantha Sutton. Yes, that’s her!”
“How could she do that to her team?”
“What a spoiled brat. Did you hear what she did?”
“What an embarrassment to the sport.”
“She’s a teen girl. What do you expect?”
The first-class lounge becomes my court room. All the passengers self-appointed judges. I can’t look at them. But I can’t stare at the ceiling for another hour. Maybe if I sit here and be quiet, they’ll leave me alone.
The voices go on and on as if I can’t hear all the awful things they’re saying about me.
People take pictures. I ignore them and play a game on my phone.
They stand up and approach me.
I don’t look up or acknowledge them.
Those people snap pictures anyway. Like I’m this inanimate object. Not a person with feelings. Or a girl who craves her privacy.
A few ask questions. Normally I would answer and be that professional sports celebrity I’ve been in the past. But I’m too fragile now. If I talk about what’s happened this week, dig up all those horrible moments again, I’ll totally lose it. So I walk out of the first-class lounge…
…and into a sea of media. They circle me like a pack of wolves and I’m trapped. They just won’t let the story die. Guess my location isn’t a secret now. Microphones and cameras aim for my head. It’s the quickest way to take me out. Their questions fly like spears…
“What’s the real reason you skipped the German Grand Prix? Was it to get back at the team for not supporting you?”
“Will Porsche sack you for embarrassing them?”
“Did Ralf Wolert’s nephew break up with you because he found out you were pregnant?”
“Was the pressure too much for you? Are you seeking professional counseling?”
“Is this the end of your career in Europe? Will you try to race in America?”
I can’t answer them. The mountain of crap that I’ve created is suffocating and I have no energy left to fight it.
My cheeks become moist.
Crap. I can’t start bawling. Not here. Not in front of the cameras.
They want to break you. Reduce you to nothing. Don’t let them do it.
The cameras move in to capture my face. The tears flow and I can’t stop. These reporters will get what they want. A pathetic little girl crying over the boy she loves.
I wedge myself in between two reporters and push through them. I dash across the terminal in this frantic state. Searching for an escape. Searching for anything that will keep them away.
And they’re chasing me. Seriously. Chasing me across the freaking airport.
I spot a women’s restroom and dash inside.
Finding an empty stall, I slam the door shut and sit on the cold toilet seat. I relax for a second and rest my head against the wall. Then it rolls out like a tidal wave. I sob and the tears drip off my jaw. I drift forward. My wet cheek slides against the wall. The friction it makes is the only thing preventing me from collapsing on to the bathroom tiles.
There’s a commotion as the restroom door opens. Things being moved around. It must be the mob. They won’t give up. They’re stuffing themselves into this bathroom. Excited that I’ve trapped myself inside this stall. They don’t care about decency. Or empathizing with the pain of a human being. All they care about is their story. Catching pictures of me in this helpless position would be the perfect image for their news feeds.
The stall door opens.
It’s Paige.
She kneels down and wraps her arms around this hollow and broken girl who’s totally lost it. Paige rocks me back and forth like a child. But it does the job. It helps me find my voice.
“I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what to say,” I blubber through the tears. “I’m losing my mind.”
“Don’t worry,” Paige says in this upbeat tone that I hated a few minutes ago…but I so need to hear now. “I blocked the door. No one’s coming in here.”
“But they’re still out there. Waiting to pounce. I can’t—I can’t get on a plane now.” I sniff and my nose is clogged from crying. “Look at me. I’m a disaster. And everyone’s gonna stare at me on the plane for what…? Nine hours?”
“We’ll charter a private jet home, okay? Megan will have a cow, but this is an emergency and we’re spending the money.”
I manage a nod.
Paige dives into her purse for a moist towelette and cleans my face. I sneeze and snot comes out my nose. Paige gives me a tissue and I blow into it. Paige gets rid of the tissues and my ball cap. She brushes my hair to make me look like a girl again.
I breathe in and relax.
Paige searches her purse and takes out a big cookie. “Here, I saved you one.”
I take the cookie and examine its rocky surface of walnuts and serious chunks of chocolate. My mouth waters. “Are they really wicked?”

“Dude! You won’t regret it. Now do the Cookie Monster on that bad boy while I call NetJets.”


a Rafflecopter giveaway

AUTHOR BIO:

Growing up in Oklahoma, Doug Solter began writing screenplays in 1998 and became a 2001 semi-finalist in the Academy of Motion Pictures Arts and Sciences' Nicholl Fellowships in Screenwriting. He made the switch to writing young adult novels in 2008. His first novel, the Formula One racing romance SKID, was honored as a young adult semi-finalist in the 2013 Best Kindle Book Awards. His paranormal werewolf romance MY GIRLFRIEND BITES was honored in the same category in 2014. Doug is also a member of the Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators. He respects cats, loves the mountains, and one time walked the streets of Barcelona with a smile on his face.

Author links:
http://dougthewriter.wix.com/main
https://www.facebook.com/pages/Doug-Solter-Young-Adult-Author/208511029289982?ref=hl
https://twitter.com/DougSolter
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/6127991.Doug_Solter


Friday, September 4, 2015

Blood Slave Tour & Excerpt!

Blood Slave
Realm Walker Series
Book 3
Kathleen Collins

Can she find a killer in a town where the basest desires are allowed to run free?

There are zombies in the Dead Zone and Juliana Norris is sent to take care of the problem. And for there to be zombies, there had to be bodies. When vampires are found to be the culprits, Juliana is sent undercover in the red light district of Kansas City. Lying to her mate, Thomas Kendrick, isn’t something she wants to do, but she’s in another vampire’s territory and Thomas would not be pleased. Besides, she’s more than capable of doing the job and she needs to prove it to everyone. Most of all herself.

Charles Morgan is in control of the Kansas City area, making a rich living off his various enterprises. Juliana goes undercover at the strip club Lust and gets sucked into his dark, decadent world. More victims turn up and the Agency is positive they’ve got their man, but Juliana is not so sure. When the Agency refuses to listen, she reluctantly turns to Thomas for help. He intervenes but finds Juliana unaware of the danger she is in and discovers she may just be too deep for him to save.

Available at
Amazon    BN    iTunes


Excerpt 

The zombie Pomeranian yipped at Nathaniel in between growling and tugging at the leg of his jeans. Juliana pulled her foot back to kick the creature away from her friend and made ready to bring her sword down on it as soon as it was clear.

“Don’t,” Nathaniel protested as he held up a still-clawed hand. “You might hurt it.”

Her brows arched up into her hairline. “That would be the general idea.” The thing growled again and she looked down at it where it was doing its utmost to gnaw a hole through Nathaniel’s jeans. And she wasn’t entirely sure it would stop when it got to skin. I realize you have a particu-lar kinship with all things canine, but it’s gnawing on your leg.”

“Just my jeans.” Now back in fully human form, he bent and disengaged the dog from the denim.

“Easy there, boy. Good dog.” When the Pomeranian continued to express its displeasure with the situation in general and Nathaniel in particular, he lifted the beast above his head, looked at it nose to nose and growled back. Evidently recognizing an alpha even in its altered state, the dog curled in on itself and whimpered before darting its tongue out to lick Nathaniel’s nose. Juliana grimaced. Zombie breath couldn’t be pretty.

“See, he doesn’t mean any harm,” her friend said as he tucked the abomination under one arm. Their scruffy brown hair made them look surprisingly similar.
She blinked at him in disbelief before taking another look at the creature in question. When she bent closer, it growled and she straightened with a huff. “She.”

“What?”

“She. Name tag says Fifi. Last time I checked that was a girl’s name.”

Nathaniel snorted in derision. “Fifi. What a prissy name.”

“Hate to break it to you, partner, but that is a prissy dog. And it smells like mold.”




About the Author:

Kathleen Collins lives and works in Missouri. By day, she labors in the local prosecutor's office. At night she writes while surrounded by her husband, two boys and two loveable mutts. She is constantly thinking of her next project and loves to connect with her readers. You can fine her most often on Facebook or on her website.


@kathy_collins






The Casquette Girls Cover Reveal!

The Casquette Girls 
Alys Arden
Published by: Skyscape
Publication date: November 17th 2015
Genres: Paranormal, Young Adult



Synopsis:

After the storm of the century rips apart New Orleans, sixteen-year-old Adele Le Moyne and her father are among the first to return. Adele wants nothing more than to resume her normal life, but with the silent city resembling a war zone, a parish-wide curfew, and mysterious new faces lurking in the abandoned French Quarter, normal needs a new definition.

Strange events—even for New Orleans—lead Adele to an attic that has been sealed for three hundred years. The chaos she accidentally unleashes threatens not only her but also everyone she knows.

Caught in a hurricane of myths and monsters, Adele must untangle a web of magic that weaves the climbing murder rate back to her own ancestors. But who can you trust in a city where everyone has secrets and keeping them can mean life or death? Unless…you’re immortal.

Revised edition: This edition of The Casquette Girls includes editorial revisions.


Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25917801-casquette-girls-the


Purchase: http://www.amazon.ca/gp/product/1503946541/ref=x_gr_w_bb?ie=UTF8&tag=x_gr_w_bb_ca-20&linkCode=as2&camp=15121&creative=330641





AUTHOR BIO:

ALYS ARDEN grew up in the Vieux Carré, cut her teeth on the streets of New York, and has worked all around the world since. She still plans to run away with the circus one day.

www.facebook.com/TheCasquetteGirls
www.thecasquettegirls.com
www.alysarden.com




Thursday, September 3, 2015

The Reaper's Kiss Tour, Excerpt & Giveaway!

The Reaper’s Kiss
A Deathmark Novel
Abigail Baker

Release Date: August 24, 2015

Genre: Paranormal

Publisher: Entangled

Book Description:

Ollie Dormier's tattoos are deadly. She is a Scrivener—an employee for Death—and her skull tattoos mark her clients for their demise. She does her job, and she stays out of trouble. But when her hands start to burn hot and fierce, and her control goes leaping out the window, all hell breaks loose. Ollie is showing the early signs of being a Master...demonstrating power that is forbidden.

That power is exactly what Reaper Brent Hume is counting on. A hot, scruffy rebel, who does marvelous and terrifying things to Ollie's insides. Now he needs Ollie's help—and her skills—to overthrow the evil and corrupt Head Reaper. That is, if he can figure out a way to keep this hot-handed girl cool...and keep his hands off.

Add it to Your Goodreads Shelf

Purchase it at Amazon

Excerpt

Had he suggested removing our clothes, I would not have partaken. I would have liked to know what the rebel Brent Hume was like in the bedroom, but not right before Lethe, in Lethe, or after Lethe, and certainly not standing over a radiator, shivering ourselves silly.
My clicking teeth slowed as the radiator, and Brent’s body heat, melted a layer of ice on my clothing. “Did you... you get the Reaper’s name?”
He pulled down the collar of his shirt to expose a white notecard inside a plastic bag—the prize from Lethe. A name was scribbled on it, but from what I could see the writing had bled. Brent noticed a second after me.
“Mother fucker,” he groused. “The ink got wet.”
“Of course it did.” It was too much energy to roll my eyes. For now, I needed heat. Lots and lots of heat.
He held the baggie up to the overhead light. “I see a name. Baird.”
“Is that a last name or first? Is it a male or female? Who is it?” My shivering worsened my panic, which in turn worsened my shivering. “We did this all for nothing, didn’t we? Didn’t we?”
“Good Hades, calm down, Scrivener.” He turned from me when I tried to get a peek at the name through the soggy baggie. Not one to take such an obvious cue to give him space, I went for it, using my own shivering to launch into the air. Quick as he was, he underestimated my determination. The baggie was in my hands before my feet touched the floor. Being short and swift was a fine offense against tall and slow.
“Hey!” he barked.
“It says Baird. It’s a last name.” I ducked when he reach around my shoulders, thwarting his effort to retrieve the baggy. “But I can’t read the first name. No knowing if it is a guy or gal.”
“Give it back.” Brent refused to continue reaching for the prize, as if little ol’ Olivia outplaying him was a front to his ego.
“I don’t know a Baird,” I said.
“Neither do I. This means I can’t just look the Reaper up and distract him or her like I had planned.”
“So I was right?” I dropped my arms to my sides as we faced each other, Brent looking as bewildered and broken as I felt.
“Seems so.”
I sighed to keep from breaking into tears. My shoulders and head felt heavy. The couch seemed a great place to throw myself down and let my emotions pour out. I would’ve found out, if Brent did rush at me and grab the baggie. There was only a small glimpse of his wicked smile before we found ourselves entangled, both vying for the prize. A moment after, I found out what it would be like to collapse onto the couch, only with the Eidolon, too, falling over top of me. The springs of the IKEA beast cringed from our weight.
Thoughts of Eve and the name Baird flitted away in exchange for one very real thing hovering above me.
I grew tense but hopeful when his eyes turned to my lips. I knew what that meant. Every woman did. However selfish and grossly out of place it was, I was okay with one kiss, more curious than frightened to discover what it is like to kiss an Eidolon who could drain my life. Perhaps my motivation was to ridicule Fate by kissing the lips of Death himself. Or maybe I was cold, tired, and downright horny.



About the Author:

Abigail Baker shares her home with a Siamese cat endearingly named “The Other Cat” and two rescued mutts with mundane human names that people think are cute. In addition to writing about rebellious heroines, she enjoys hiking, discovering craft beers, baking the perfect vanilla bean cupcake, and rock climbing (going as far as scaling 800 vertical feet to the summit of Devil’s Tower National Monument in 2013).

Abigail won first place in the Rocky Mountain Fiction Writer’s 2010 Colorado Gold Writing Contest for Romance for THE BLOODSUCKER and first place in RWA’s Golden Network’s 2011 Golden Pen in Paranormal Romance for TATTOO OF YOUR NAME ACROSS MY SOUL (now THE REAPER’S KISS, Deathmark Book One). She regularly blogs about life observances, lives at the base of the Rocky Mountains, and can be easily found hiking any of Colorado’s best trails.



Twitter: @abigailbaker79         
         




Lucid Dreaming Cover Reveal!


Lucid Dreaming 
Cassandra Page 
Publication date: November 2015 
Genres: New Adult, Urban Fantasy


Synopsis:

Who would have thought your dreams could kill you?

Melaina makes the best of her peculiar heritage: half human and half Oneiroi, or dream spirit, she can manipulate others’ dreams. At least working out the back of a new age store as a ‘dream therapist’ pays the bills. Barely.

But when Melaina treats a client for possession by a nightmare creature, she unleashes the murderous wrath of the creature’s master. He could be anywhere, inside anyone: a complete stranger or her dearest friend. Melaina must figure out who this hidden adversary is and what he’s planning – before the nightmares come for her.

Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/25719860-lucid-dreaming?ac=1



AUTHOR BIO:

Cassandra Page is a mother, author, editor and geek. She lives in Canberra, Australia's bush capital, with her son and two Cairn Terriers. She has a serious coffee addiction and a tattoo of a cat -- despite being allergic to cats. She has loved to read since primary school, when the library was her refuge, and loves many genres -- although urban fantasy is her favourite. When she's not reading or writing, she engages in geekery, from Doctor Who to AD&D. Because who said you need to grow up?

Author links:
http://cassandrapage.com/
https://www.facebook.com/CassandraPage01
https://twitter.com/cassandrapage01
https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/8328228.Cassandra_Page


Wednesday, September 2, 2015

Nightbloom Tour, Excerpt & Giveaway!

Nightbloom
The Nightwing Series
Book 3
Juliette Cross

Genre: Urban Fantasy/Paranormal Romance

Publisher: Kensington Publishing

Date of Publication: September 1, 2015

ISBN: 978-161650576-9
ASIN: B00QP3CZR2

Word Count: 36K

Book Description:

The love between a human and a Morgon, the dragon-hybrid race, tempts fate once more…

All her life, Ella Barrow has allowed others to make her decisions. Forced to stifle her artistic talents and stay in a loveless relationship with Clayton Kerrington, the man her mother believes to be her perfect match, Ella’s life may be safe—but it’s not her own. Paxon Nightwing, on the other hand, is anything but the safe choice.

A charming and alluring Morgon, Paxon sees Ella for the woman she truly is. His bold confidence and protective nature ignites a passion she’s never felt before. But a dark family tragedy forces their secrecy—until Clayton makes it impossible to hide their clandestine affair. Will Ella be strong enough to fight for herself at last?

Or will she succumb once more and risk losing the only man she’s ever loved?

Amazon     BN    Kobo   Kensington




Excerpt

I blotted my Petal Pink lips on a piece of memo paper and capped the lipstick.

“Dangit!”

Trying to retrieve the tube with the tip of my open-toe heel, I only succeeded in pushing the lipstick farther away. “Ugh.”

Unable to bend that far in my pencil skirt, I hiked the hem up to my thighs and crawled on all fours, shimmying my behind, then stretching my arm till my fingers finally gripped my favorite lipstick.

That’s when I heard a low, masculine whistle from someone standing behind me.

Scooting back, I shot off the floor and slid my hemline back to my knee, all under the steady gaze of Paxon Nightwing, silhouetted by the sunlight that filtered into the foyer of Linden and Burke.

Towering above me with jet-black hair and matching sharp-edged wings, wearing a charcoal button-down, black slacks, and a devilish smile, his voice crooned when he spoke. “Now that’s what I call a warm welcome.”

“I, um, well, I…”

He extended a bronzed hand. I reached out with my right, nearly dropping the lipstick again. I shifted it to my left hand. “I like pink.”

I like pink? I like pink! For God’s sake, Ella. How old was I? Five?

His extended hand engulfed mine, then he drew our bodies closer. Grinning wide and stroking his thumb across my knuckles, his melodious voice sounded sultry and sinful.

“So do I.”

I blinked stupidly till my brain started functioning again. He didn’t say a word, mesmerizing me with ridiculously deep brown eyes.

“I’m, uh, Ella Barrow.”

“Paxon Nightwing. Pleasure to meet you. But I think we’ve met before.”

I tugged on my hand. He didn’t let go, tightening his hold.

“Uh, well, I’m friends with Sorcha and Jessen.”

“Yes.”

I knew this guy was a player, the kind to make a girl swoon with a glance and charm the pants right off her. Literally. Jessen had even kissed him in a club once. And while his carousing behavior should make me want to run away, I couldn’t forget that Jessen had said on a scale of one to ten, his kiss was a ninety-nine.

He still held my hand, angling his body closer. “I’ve also seen you at the Vaengar games. With Kerrington.”

“Yeah. We’re, um, dating.”

“That’s a shame.”

I tugged again.

He released me. “I have an appointment with Sorcha Nightwing.”

“Yes. I know.”

Pulling myself together, I pressed the comm device on my desk and cleared my throat. “Mr. Nightwing is here.”

“Thanks, Ella. Show him to my office, please.”

Rounding behind the desk, I gestured down the hall. “This way.”

“After you.” A sly grin.

I tilted up my chin, pretending I wasn’t afraid of him, then led him toward Sorcha’s office. I was good at pretending.

As soon as I stepped in front of him, a primal shiver vibrated through my bones.
His eyes were on me. I felt his gaze, as if his gaze were a caress, brushing up my legs, curving over my behind, rounding my hips to the dip of my waist and finally settling on the blond waves that fell past my shoulders. By the time we reached the door to the office, my heartbeat hammered in my throat.

Gesturing for him to enter, I kept my eyes on the floor, trying desperately to regain control. He stopped in front of me, but I held my gaze until I realized I was fixated on his crotch. I jerked my head up. Amusement flickered across chiseled features. He was about to say something, but I didn’t give him the chance. I marched back up the hall to the receptionist area.



About the Author:

Juliette calls lush, moss-laden Louisiana home where the landscape curls into her imagination, creating mystical settings for her stories. She has a B.A. in creative writing from Louisiana State University, a M.Ed. in gifted education, and was privileged to study under the award-winning author Ernest J. Gaines in grad school. Her love of mythology, legends, and art serve as constant inspiration for her works. From the moment she read JANE EYRE as a teenager, she fell in love with the Gothic romance--brooding characters, mysterious settings, persevering heroines, and dark, sexy heroes. Even then, she not only longed to read more novels set in Gothic worlds, she wanted to create her own.

Juliette is a multi-published author, including her Nightwing series with Kensington Publishing and The Vessel Trilogy with Samhain Publishing.