Bewitching Book Tours Magazine Issue 24 June 2014
Bewitching Book Tours Magazine is a publication of Bewitching Book Tours and Bewitching Books. Editor: Roxanne Rhoads Design Editor and Layout: Lisa McGeen Contributors include Bewitching Book Tours Authors and Tour Hosts learn more at www.bewitchingbooktours.blogspot.com Ad space rates are: $40 full page ad $20 half page ad $10 quarter page ad You can subscribe to this magazine at http://issuu.com/bewitchingbooktours ÂŠ Copyright 2014 Stock images from www.123rf.com
C3 Feature Sandstorm Heart Feature Love & War Feature The Seerâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Lover Feature Blood and Magic Feature Peageae Feature The Brede Chronicles Feature The Deadly Seven Feature Monthly Feature: Allegiance Messenger Feature Poison in the Blood Feature Naughty Nook Witches Who Stich Confession of a Sex Fiend Feature Candace Blevins Pinup Files
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Excerpt The next time Teddie went sleepwalking, it occurred to her that she wasn’t really walking. She was floating. And she was pretty sure that she was headed towards the train station. It was the middle of the night and this was no time to catch a train. What was she doing going there? Wasn’t this the same way she had gone to check on her brother Zane, when she was only four years old? She was moving fast now, almost like she was in a car, and certainly like she knew exactly where she was headed. How did she know where she was going? She thought that maybe she should go back to her bed when it occurred to her that if she actually got to the station, she could take a train all the way to the airport. And if she could just get to Bagdogra where the airport was, then she could get on an airplane and fly far, far away to a place where eleven-year-old children didn’t have to be scared when their mother got a cold, and girls didn’t have to plead to get admitted to classes for men only, and high school juniors from Texas didn’t have to cough up their entire allowance just to keep a roommate from getting taken out of school by evil uncles. Was the uncle really evil? He must be. And then she thought that she felt the uncle grab her arm and she jumped. But it was just Usha grabbing her arm, and she was in bed. “You were making noises in your sleep,” Usha said worriedly. “You were having a bad dream?” “I didn’t think I was dreaming at all,” Teddie muttered as she turned over, and then she felt confused. So she wasn’t going places in her sleep? She was just having dreams about going? Why?
c3 46. Ascending Sherrie Cronin Genre: Fantasy, contemporary, metaphysical Publisher: Cinnabar Press
ISBN: 9781941283035 ISBN: 9781941283233 ASIN: B00I58T5FU Number of pages: 405 Word Count: 135,000 Cover Artist: Jennifer FitzGerald Book Description: Teddie likes her country music and her old pick-up truck and she's not sure how she let her best friend talk her into spending a semester abroad in Darjeeling India. Once she arrives, her innocence quickly collides with an underworld in which young women are bartered and sold. As she fights to understand a depravity that she never dreamed existed, Teddie finds that her own mind develops a unique ability for locating her friends and that an ancient group is willing to train her to use her innate skills for out of body experiences to save others. It will require trust in ideas she barely believes, and more courage than has ever been expected of her. When it becomes clear that the alternative may be her friends' deaths and the unchecked growth of an evil crime lord's empire, Teddie accepts the challenge and shows those guilty of unspeakable crimes just how powerful a young woman can be. Available at Amazon Note: this is collection, not a series. The books can be read in any order. About the Author:
Sherrie Roth grew up in Western Kansas thinking that there was no place in the universe more fascinating than outer space. After her mother vetoed astronaut as a career ambition, she went on to study journalism and physics in hopes of becoming a science writer. She published her first science fiction short story long ago, and then waited a lot of tables while she looked for inspiration for the next story. When it finally came, it declared to her that it had to be whole book, nothing less. One night, while digesting this disturbing piece of news, she drank way too many shots of ouzo with her boyfriend. She woke up thirty-one years later demanding to know what was going on.
The boyfriend, who she had apparently long since married, asked her to calm down and explained that in a fit of practicality she had gone back to school and gotten a degree in geophysics and had spent the last 28 years interpreting seismic data in the oil industry. The good news, according to Mr. Cronin, was that she had found it at least mildly entertaining and ridiculously well-paying The bad news was that the two of them had still managed to spend almost all of the money. Apparently she was now Mrs. Cronin, and the further good news was that they had produced three wonderful children whom they loved dearly, even though to be honest that is where a lot of the money had gone. Even better news was that Mr. Cronin turned out to be a warm-hearted, encouraging sort who was happy to see her awake and ready to write. "It's about time," were his exact words. Sherrie Cronin discovered that over the ensuing decades Sally Ride had already managed to become the first woman in space and apparently had done a fine job of it. No one, however, had written the book that had been in Sherrie's head for decades. The only problem was, the book informed her sternly that it had now grown into a six book series. Sherrie decided that she better start writing it before it got any longer. She's been wide awake ever since, and writing away. Twitter: @cinnabar01 Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/Number46Ascending Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5805814.Sherrie_Cronin Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Sherrie-Cronin/e/B007FRMO9Q Blogs: x0: http://tothepowerofzero.org/
My mind was made up—Ami was a complete bastard. It had nothing to do with our history and everything to do with right now.
Oh, they were such a riot. They begged to be put out of their misery. I contemplated the thought for a couple of moments, but taking out my fellow mercs wasn’t much Sitting there with the rest of his top picks wasn’t my of a smart move. Ami’s protection made our band of idea of a good dinner. And yet there we were in all our misfits into an operating unit. Without his connections, glory. No way could I eat. Food refused to pass beyond I suspected all of us would likely meet swift and unsamy lips. Burning purple eyes had my ears buzzing. I vory repercussions. Our previous lives weren’t exactly felt him watching me across the table. Zaoh’s presence badge-of-honor material. I didn’t have to like him, overwhelmed me even without looking at him. though, not right then. Ever the perceptive empathic bastard, he blew me a kiss. I tossed a bread roll at him. The azure devil in front of me grinned and licked his lips. “Don’t like your dinner, gorgeous?” Smacking it away with ease, he put on the serious face. “I’ve got a mission, kids. Bet that’ll cheer you up, Ron. “It’s fine,” I grumped. Won’t it?” Long fingers aimed a fork at me, his motions eerily graceful. “Fine? I don’t give my champions ‘fine.’ I give you stupendous. Maybe it’s the company you don’t like?” I choked on water, sputtering like a fool. “You trying to kill me, Blue?” He chuckled, mismatched eyes turning warm at the nickname.
It most certainly did. I spread my lips into a smile, my mood getting better as quick as a lightning bolt. A mission was exactly what I needed, a break from Asai and its turbulent sandstorms. A breather from the mojobreaking elements on it. It had to be a one-gun mission, though. Being stuck with Camy in the tight space of a ship was a mixed blessing. I refused to contemplate the merry band getting any bigger. Going out with Zaoh wasn’t even an option—I’d made that perfectly clear to Blue the moment the Haffa came in. So far, my opinion had been taken into consideration, thank the stars.
Beside me, the famous space thief and troublemaker extraordinaire, Camelia D, snorted. That was, by large, Ami pushed his plate away and took a few sips of her basic response to life. “Something’s ruining your wine. He gave each one of us a cursory look and mojo, admit it,” she muttered. smiled. “Major cargo escort. Don’t get excited, Camy, it needs finesse. No explosives or any of that shit. I’ve “My mojo is fine.” had it with your dramatic exits. For a renowned thief, you sure do make a blasting mess of a merc.” “Like the food, fine?” she asked, batting long eyelashes. Her lips pursed. “Kiss my ass, pretty boy. Those
fucktards shot at me. What was I going to do, smile my Blue.” way out of there? Maybe let them ruin my ship, like someone here did? Either I blew them up or they’d “Of course not, gorgeous. But I’m not gonna lose any blow my ass into stardust.” of my top guns just because you’re bored when nothing blows up.” “Lovely visual, baby. But you’re grounded. Too big a mess and too recent to go out yet. I’m still talking I grinned. “Well, if blowing is what’s on your mind—” those idiots down from you blowing their mother ship to smithereens. Though in your defense, anyone stupid He smacked my hand. enough to get their main blown by one unruly merc deserves what’s coming to them.” Ridiculous. I wasn’t trigger-happy or explosionsaddicted—that was Camy’s field. Probably going in all Camy’s fiery green eyes squinted and she threw a hand smooth to steal stuff frustrated her raging-bitch side. -wipe at him. “Unruly my ass.” Now that she could blow up things, she went to town with it every chance she could possibly summon. I He grinned. “Especially that. We’ll get to the bottom wasn’t that dramatic. Well, there had been that one inof it together, though, no fear. Besides, if you’re so full cident…. Completely unintentional. It wasn’t my fault of pent-up energy, we both know I can always use a the bastards felt compelled to shoot me down. I was boost. You’re grounded. The boys get to go out and just trying to escape with their cargo. I took a pod to play.” escape. It had been a close call—an even closer call when Ami found out his favorite ship got blasted into I did my best to show no disappointment. Escorting oblivion. I thought he’d chew my ass out that time, but cargo was as much of a mission as washing my mouth. he got over it by the time I pushed him down on his But it meant I could be away for a while and that was bed. Blue was forgiving like that. It made working for good news. I had to take it. “I’ll go, Blue.” him especially fun for a while there. Besides, regardless of who went out, it was mission complete and realHe inspected me for a moment then nodded. “Fine, ly good profits for him. He just loved to nag and bitch. gorgeous. All yours.” I was bored. That was why I’d asked to go. When the “Great. What am I escorting and where?” body wasn’t busy, the mind took revenge. We were creatures of action, Zaoh and I. Kator had been at war “Private commission. What I do know is you have to for centuries. Fighting was the only thing we really get it through Zax zone.” knew. Both Celians and Haffas, though different in ohso-many ways, were the same in one regard—we were Zax zone sounded promising. Those bastards didn’t brought up with the fight in our hearts, thrumming know how to do anything but fight. Maybe I’d get through our veins. No home-base pets, not really. And some collateral action, the real kind. Truth be told, I while the Celian part was more civilized, Haffas were was itching for some real excitement. We all were, truly wild creatures—impossibly strong and brutally most likely. Ami bitched about it to high heavens, but determined. I’d seen a Haffa of Zaoh’s size take down then again, he had been the one to handpick each of us up to five of our Celian soldiers with ease. I’d seen as his guns. Zaoh himself take down close to a dozen. He hadn’t been public enemy number one on our side of Kator I nodded, fingers rapping against the table. “When am for nothing. I leaving?” When I didn’t have a mission, I missed being part of “As soon as you’re ready. You’re meeting your contact the troops back home. But every time I got close to on Kalvaria. And be sure to keep your trigger-happy Kator, those damned images blasted through my finger in check. I don’t have a current accord with that mind… probably a good thing I was declared a desertstation. If you get caught, you’re on your own.” er, to be executed on the spot if caught within Celian territory limits. Pathetically, the only flavor of home The rap of my fingers turned louder. “I’m not a kid, was Zaoh—part of the reason I’d left it to begin with.
But he didn’t know that. And it was in my best interest like the vivacious Camy D, a tall and lean creature to keep things that way. who came with one of our new ships. As in, she dashed out of it in the hangar and tried to off us all. Besides, I wasn’t a soldier anymore. I was a merc And loot the place. Ami was so touched, he took her in now, part of Ami’s top guns. The Amaari was legend on the spot. She was a magnificent thief, capable of even on Kator. His negotiator abilities were second to stealing the sugar from your cup of tea if you didn’t none. If you wanted something, you got him to get it keep a close enough watch. Sadly, she turned out to for you. Ahlen Zari was the second-best choice; the love blowing things up too. Ami’s reputation as bastard had no finesse, though. Ami was a smooth op- smooth operator was slowly dwindling away. We were erator. His guns were always drawn but never blazing. turning from smooth operators into guns blazing, but And now I was part of that arsenal, just like the Haffa, still top dogs. That was what really mattered after because of whom I’d given up my previous life. Just all—being top dogs. Sandstorm Heart Space Files R Book 2 Liv Olteano Genre: M/M Space Opera Erotic Romance / Erotica BDSM elements Length: novella - approx 30k words Publisher: Dreamspinner Press Released: September 18th 2013 Book Description: Ron Vid is a Celian soldier with some personal demons. Hoping for respite, he deserts his squad and leaves his planet. Working as a mercenary on Asai, planet of sand and wind, he has a reprieve, until the Haffa named Zaoh joins the mercenaries. Celians and Haffas have a history of strife, but when Ron and Zaoh are paired on a mission, their chemistry crackles. After they fight together for survival, it’s clear Zaoh wants Ron. Zaoh can be a fierce and dominant lover, but Ron’s secrets, and his fear that the Haffa might uncover them, could keep Zaoh from getting his man. Add it to Your Goodreads Shelf Purchase at: Dreamspinner Press Amazon BN ARe About the Author:
Liv Olteano is a voracious reader, music lover, and coffee addict extraordinaire. And occasional geek. Okay, more
She believes stories are the best kind of magic there is. And life would be horrible without magic. Her hobbies include losing herself in the minds and souls of characters, giving up countless nights of sleep to get to know said characters, and trying to introduce them to the world. Sometimes they appreciate her efforts. The process would probably go quicker if theyâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;d bring her a cup of coffee now and then when stopping by. Charactersâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;what can you do, right?
Liv has a penchant for quirky stories and is a reverent lover of diversity. She can be found loitering around the Internet at odd hours and being generally awkward and goofy at all times.
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The nervous princesses reached the double doors of the banquet hall. Sophia slid her arm out of Amelia’s, grabbed her hand, and squeezed it tightly. Just as suddenly as it started, the moment was over, and she reverted back to the cold and dignified princess, leaving Amelia more nervous than before. “Stand up straight, shoulders back, chin up, and smile!” hissed Sophia at her sister. The doors opened, and a servant announced their arrival. Gracefully, Sophia glided into the room, smiling at the many people who stood for their entrance as she made her way to the high table. Amelia swallowed hard as she took in the many faces staring from within the room. Biting her lip, she followed, trying to mimic her sister’s graceful walk, her smile more a grimace of concentration. The hall was full to capacity with visiting lords and ladies who had come to hear the king’s announcement. Amelia felt her stomach churn at the thought of embarrassing herself in front of all the visiting dignitaries. They sat, Sophia next to the queen and Amelia next to the king, as they always did. The hallfull of people took their seats afterward. The king then stood and raised his arms. “Welcome lords, ladies, and gentlefolk to our home on this very special evening. Before we begin our meal, there is something I wish to announce.” Around the room, people sat up straighter with anticipation. Everyone knew the girls were of age to marry. In fact, they were past the usual age for betrothal announcements. Sophia smiled indulgently, while Amelia bit her lip, hoping the man her father chose would serve the country well in these troubled times. “As you know, my wife and I have not been blessed with a son.” The queen reached for his hand and squeezed it before she rose to stand beside him. “But we do have two beautiful daughters, who have grown into very fine women.” He gestured to the two princesses on either side of himself and his queen. “I have called you here tonight to hear the betrothal announcement of my daughter, who will become queen and rule Estoria at her husband’s side after my death.” Amelia glanced at Sophia, her stomach churning as she waited to hear who her sister would be betrothed to. Sophia looked nervous about hearing her new husband’s name too, but she had prepared for this her whole life. Amelia turned her gaze to the king and queen, waiting for the inevitable announcement. “I have arranged a match with the second born prince of Prestor, Prince Damon.” The room broke into excited whispers as the lords and ladies discussed all the gossip they could remember about the prince. Sophia smiled widely, but Amelia frowned. She knew of Prince Damon. He was said to be handsome and chivalrous. He would make an excellent husband. He was a few years older—twenty-four to Sophia’s eighteen. But while Prestor was a beautiful country, it was separated from Estoria by the Cantarrus Mountains. Weren’t there more suitable choices who would be able to aid Estoria in the upcoming battle? She trusted her father’s decision, but she couldn’t say she would have made the same choice. Although, if I’m honest—that’s at least half because I want the crown
for myself. The king held his hands up for silence again. “Please, everyone, join me in celebrating the betrothal of my eldest daughter, your crown princess, the beautiful Princess Amelia.” There was a roar of applause, and both Amelia and Sophia’s faces froze into identical masks of shock and horror. Amelia was dragged upward to stand beside her father. She felt like the floor had dropped away from beneath her, and she clutched at her father’s arm to support herself. The roar of the lords and ladies sounded so far away. She must have misheard. There was no way he actually meant it. “I have two daughters, and my youngest, Sophia, has also become betrothed tonight.” The king looked over at Sophia, oblivious to the taut smile on her face. The queen reached out and helped her upright. “Princess Sophia will wed Duke Anton of Crestori’s oldest son, the honorable Sir Graeme,” announced King Frederick, beaming at the crowd. He looked around the room, grinning as the shouts of encouragement for the princesses and blessings were called out for their marriages. “Now let us celebrate with a feast!” he boomed, and turned to help his queen and daughters back into their seats while the servants, who waited around the edges of the hall, dashed forward with plates towering with food and flagons of wine. Amelia felt numb. What will I do? Can I marry a man I have never met? How will he react when he realizes he was conned out of a real princess for his bride and instead gained a budding ambassador? How is Sophia going to react? Questions ran through her head, too quickly for her to consider answers for any of them. She glanced over at Sophia and flinched to see her face still frozen in a false smile. For the rest of the evening Amelia picked at her meal, smiling and nodding every time someone came forward to congratulate her. Later, when the food was cleared away, she danced with everyone who asked, though it all felt like a dream. Normally, she watched Sophia dancing, as no one was fool enough to ask her. Now, she was suddenly the most sought out woman, even though the men would surely regret risking their feet afterward. She was so numb it was if she still sat beside her father, watching someone else get twirled around on the dance floor by various lords, dukes, and sirs. Perhaps I should always get earth-shattering news before a dance, it seems to make me less clumsy, she thought idly as she watched the room spin by. Love and War Chronicles of Estoria Book 1 Suzy Knight Genre: Fantasy/ Romance Publisher: Taliesin Publishing ASIN: B00I9Q3MYI Number of pages: 213 Word Count: just over 70,000 Cover Artist: James Caldwell Taliesin Publishing Amazon UK Smashwords
Barnes and Noble Goodreads Book Description: In the small kingdom of Estoria, war is brewing. Trapped between the deadly Cantarrus mountains and the volatile kingdom of Belvidia, war seems unavoidable. The time has come to announce the heir to the throne so as to give the kingdom a much needed sense of security. Sophia has worked long and hard to become the ideal queen. She is the toast of Estorian society and is ready to marry for duty. Her twin sister Amelia is her polar opposite; clumsy and opinionated Amelia might be fluent in several languages, but she cannot curtsy without falling over. When Ameliaâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s betrothal to Prince Damon is announced, Sophia feels betrayed. Amelia is shocked and becomes paranoid that her unfeminine habits will cause the prince to call off the wedding, leaving Estoria to face Belvidia alone. Things get more complicated for Amelia when she begins to develop feelings for the handsome bodyguard sent by her future husband. Amelia must choose; will she side with her sister, do her duty and marry the prince, or will her new found interest in marrying for love ruin everything? Love, duty or family; which would you choose? About the Author: Suzy Knight is an average English girl, who after completing a degree in boring business management decided to travel halfway around the world to the land of kpop and kimchi to be a teacher. Whilst in Korea, Suzy rediscovered her passion for writing and managed to write the novel Love and War in between working at her academy and volunteering with animal rescue. Two years later and sheâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s back in England with her rescued Korean puppy, Panda. Now she is working on her next novels, while training Panda to be less nervous. Website: www.suzyknight.com Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SuzyKnightBooks Twitter: https://twitter.com/SuzyKnightbooks
Amazon Author UK: http://www.amazon.co.uk/-/e/B00IABE9YE
Bewitching Book Tours is now offering custom book swag creations that can be added on to tour packages or ordered separately. We are offering high quality, hand crafted, one of a kind items made to match your book. Currently we are offering beaded bookmarks, beaded keychains, purse charms, belt loop charms, wine glass charms, and earrings. These items can be created with colored beads to match the colors in your book cover. We can also add small charms to coordinate with book content- we have a wide variety of charms to choose from and if we don't have something that matches your book we can get it. Some of the silver charms available are: vampire fangs, wolves, witch hats, keys and locks, books, hearts, haunted houses, bats, foxes, hamsas, dragons, sugar skulls, rhinestone skull and crossbones, high heeled shoes, Fleur de lis, masquerade masks, owls and many more. You can also opt to have the items completely customized by adding your book cover to a metal charm. The book covers are encased in small metal photo frame charms and sealed in resin for a high quality charm that looks fabulous and is very durable. Our goal is to create custom book swag that represents your book.
Interview with Kat de Falla Do you write in different genres? I write about angels/demons in The Seer’s Lover, ghosts in First Contact (coming this summer) and have a middle grade zombie book on submission. So I guess, overall…it’s paranormal! How did you come up with the title for your latest book? Do you title the book first or wait until after it’s complete? The initial title was “Who Walks Among Us” but that got switched along the way to “The Seer’s Lover”. The book is really the journey of Calise Rowe, who falls in love with a seer of the angels and demons that walk among us. Is there a message in your novel that you want readers to grasp? Yes! You never know who you are talking to. As a pharmacist, I always think that I have no idea where someone has just come from, or is going to. We never fully understand other people’s situations or reasons for acting the way they do. I treat each person like I may be the last person they ever have a conversation with, so let’s make it a good one! Beside, maybe you have crossed paths with an angel If this book is part of a series…what is the next book? Any details you can share? The Seer’s Lover is book one in The Seven Archangels Series and I am hard at work finishing book two! I can share that come of the same characters will show up in the next book… What book are you reading now? My Kind of Crazy by Katie O’Sullivan – great summer read! Who designed the cover of your latest book? Debbie Taylor of DCA Graphics and I really can’t say enough good things about her, her work, or my cover. I absolutely gave the reader a glimpse of the novel with this cover. It’s scary, it’s sexy, and it’s hot in the jungles of Costa Rica! Do you have a song or playlist ( book soundtrack) that you think represents this book? I’ll do you one better! My composer husband actually wrote three original songs that accompany this book
and are free with purchase. We’ve received tons of great feedback on how it really augments the whole reading experience. Thanks Lee! What is next for you? Do you have any scheduled upcoming releases or works in progress? As a matter of fact, I wrote a paranormal mystery with a great friend of mine who is also an author, R.A. Green. We co-wrote First Contact about Sloane Osbourne, a paranormal real estate agent who sells haunted houses. The first book in the series will be out this summer from Crescent Moon Press. We write under the pen name of Kat Green.
Excerpt: She traced a circle in the sand with her finger. Why would she disclose her whole existence to someone she’d just met? Someone who talked so little about himself that she found herself talking to fill the void. Saying things she could barely admit in her own head. His hand covered hers. “I’m lonely, too. Getting to know you this week has been the brightest point in my life and I don’t want you to leave, but I know the only place you’ll be safe is far away from me.” She swallowed. He had read her mind. He lay down on his back and closed his eyes. “Cali, you know when you hear a song for the first time and you kind of ingest it? You can’t possibly know right away that it will be one of your favorite songs for the rest of your life. A classic.” “Yeah.” She hoped he was going somewhere good with this. “That first listen,” he continued, “you pick up a little of the melody and some lyrics that catch you. But when the song ends, you have to hear it again because you want to memorize all the words and sing along. After you hear it a few times and learn the words inside and out, then you begin to let the melody seep inside you. Next thing you know, you’ve completely digested the song and find yourself humming it while you are doing nothing, like shaving or driving your car. Finally, the song becomes so ingrained it becomes a part of you. Forever. You can recall it and it’s with you whenever you need it. Am I making any sense?” She nodded, blinking back the tears fighting to fall. “Cali, I don’t want you to go back because you’re my favorite song.”
The Seer’s Lover Kat De Falla Genre: Paranormal Romance Publisher: The Wild Rose Press Tag Line: Calise Rowe's question of who walks among us leads her into an ancient war between seers and demons. Book Description: For years, Calise Rowe has been able to sense unusual energy from people, making her believe she is different. Pulled into an ancient war raging for centuries between demon hunters and seers, she's about to find out she's right.
Her search for the truth leads her to Lucas Rojas, a seer of angels and demons who walk the earth shrouded from normal human eyes. He's hidden his gift for years and refuses to endanger Calise by sharing it with her. In the sultry Costa Rican Jungles, their worlds collide. As their passion and desire ignite, so does the ancient war between demons and seers. Will their combined efforts be enough to save themselves and the entire human world, or will their new found love be their downfall? Book Trailer: http://youtu.be/17gFt26ncoU Available at Amazon About the Author: Author Kat de Falla was born and raised in Milwaukee, Wisconsin where she learned to roller skate, ride a banana seat bike, and love Shakespeare thanks to her high school English teacher. Four years at the UW-Madison wasnâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;t enough, so she returned to her beloved college town for her Doctor of Pharmacy degree and is happily employed as a retail pharmacist where she fills prescriptions and chats with her patients. She is married to her soul mate, classical guitarist, Lee de Falla and raising four kids together ala the Brady Bunch. Author Website: www.katdefalla.com Blog: www.quillorpill.blogspot.com Twitter: https://twitter.com/katdefalla
Musings on Steampunk There are about as many interpretations of steampunk as there are writers who incorporate some of its elements into their stories. Steampunk started as a subgenre in science fiction, which is probably why it appeals to me. I’ve been reading SF books since I was a kid. “Traditional” steampunk—if there even is such a thing—took place in the nineteenth century and featured steam powered machinery operated by creative means. (That’s where the science in science fiction comes in: an artistic bending of scientific principles that doesn’t offend readers with a hard science background.) Many steampunk books feature airships, which of course weren’t cluttering nineteenth century skies. Maybe because of the airships, goggles made the hit parade. After all, it’s tough to pilot an airship without eye protection. Another prime element of steampunk is gears and gearing mechanisms, frequently run by steam, but also by magic. Though the genre first showed up in the mid-1960s television show, The Wild Wild West, it didn’t get popular until the 1980s. Since then authors have placed steampunk stories in Victorian times, the American West, post-apocalyptic settings, alternative worlds, fantasy, and horror. It’s such a broad swath, the genre has gotten progressively more difficult to pin down. Blood and Magic is a historical paranormal romance with a healthy splash of urban fantasy. Its only claim to steampunk fame is a stagecoach operated by gears (in addition to horses) with a magical assist from my witchy heroine. There were other places I could have added steampunk elements, but I was afraid they’d take away from the pace of the story. Whenever an author puts in something unusual, readers always slow down to picture it. How about some of you? What about steampunk appeals to you? Do you have favorite books in the genre? What are they? Excerpt: …It wasn’t Luke but a long, drawn-out shriek that brought Abigail thumping back to consciousness, her heart hammering triple time in her chest. Eyes wide and staring against the darkness, she warded herself just in time. Strong magic battered her. She tried to sense Luke, but that was the problem with wards. They protected by forming an impenetrable barrier and corralled her magic inside. Whatever was pummeling her seemed to have given up. She risked chinking enough of a hole in her warding to send a tendril of magic outward because she needed information. When it came, it
terrified her so badly, her heart stuttered. Dark things surrounded them: wraiths, mad wolves—those who’d been turned to serve the other side—and humans who’d sold their immortal souls for forbidden knowledge. Had the girl rallied them? How could she possibly be that powerful? Luke didn’t seem to be anywhere. Abigail hoped he’d concealed himself out of harm’s way, because the two of them couldn’t make the slightest dent in the dark horde outside. The stagecoach rocked and she realized someone was climbing onto the roof. Throat so dry she could barely breathe, she mended her warding. The books. That’s what they want… Let them haul the miserable things out of here. She knew she should risk heaven and hell to keep such knowledge out of dark hands, but Abigail didn’t see how throwing her life away would alter the outcome. She heard voices speaking the Satanic tongue, and then dragging sounds as someone transferred the trunk to the ground. Luke shouldn’t have bothered to put it back up top, she thought grimly. What had the Girauds been doing with such arcane tomes in the first place? She supposed there was the slightest chance they’d been protecting them from falling into the wrong hands. Yes, by all means, let’s give Coven members the benefit of the doubt. Except it was a struggle, and she didn’t know who the hell to trust anymore. She waited until it was absolutely still outside, and a tentative scan told her the dark host she’d sensed earlier had moved on, before loosing her wards. The minute she did, she felt Luke’s energy. He pulled open one of the coach doors. “I scared up a couple of horses from a nearby farm. We need to go after those books—and the girl.” She fought down the protest that rose to her lips, but it slid out anyway. “There aren’t enough of us.” “Fixed that problem too.” He smiled grimly. “I can ward you if you want to stay here, but if you’re coming we need to get moving. Don’t want to let the trail get too cold.” From the smirk in his voice, she knew he was being sarcastic. She sent her magic spiraling outward and felt the books pulsing with evil. No way that path would ever get cold. “Why couldn’t I feel them this strongly before? I know the trunk had to have been spelled, but still…” “The trunk was spelled, and by someone with magic to burn. It’s over in those trees. I guess Carolyn’s minions were in a hurry and didn’t have a wagon.” Abigail felt like a rube. The book trunk had already been packed and sealed when she’d picked Carolyn up in New York. She’d never even thought to examine it. “Did you see Carolyn?” “Yup.” His upper lip curled into a sneer. “Caught a glimpse of her riding a mad wolf.” “Do you suppose there’s some way we could separate her from Goody Osborne?” Abigail bit her lip nervously. Luke shook his head. “Even if we could—and I don’t think it’s possible—there are too many unknowns. Her parents might have been turned. If that happened, the kid could have embraced evil before it entered her body. By the time we sorted all that out, the dark would have had one too many chances to kill us.” Abigail winced at the unvarnished truth in his words. Any residual doubts she held about the necessity of destroying the girl melted away. “Yes,” she said through clenched teeth. “I’m coming with you.” Luke boosted her onto one of the horses. She pulled her skirts out of the way. It was a normal saddle and this was scarcely a time for modesty. Luke vaulted onto his horse, kneeing it, and they took off up the Overland Stage Road at close to a full gallop. “We’re making too much noise,” she sent. “Doesn’t matter. They’ll expect us to come after them.” She clung to the horse with her legs, enjoying the feel of not having to ride sidesaddle. Luke’s horse was larger, faster, and soon pulled so far ahead she could barely see him. She kneed her horse, urging it to greater speed, but the animal shied, and then reared. Abigail struggled for balance and called magic to calm the spooked animal. Something sprang at her and knocked her to the ground. She sent killing magic to stop its heart, before realizing what it was. Panting, she crawled out
from under a black and gray mad wolf with blood dribbling from its nostrils, and glanced warily about. Were there more of them? Carolyn stepped from the shadows. It looked as if she was alone, but Abigail suspected otherwise. “What do you want?” “Simple enough. I plan to use you to get rid of Breana Giraud—and others.” A sneer twisted the girl’s features into something unpleasant. “You think people don’t know you’re part of Coven government?” Abigail set her mouth in a hard line. “Fine. So the other side knows about me. Question is, who are you really?” “Don’t you recognize me?” Carolyn stepped closer and turned her face from side to side as if posing for a photographer. “I gave you my name, but I am far more than that.” She’s arrogant. Perhaps I can use that in some way. Abigail spread her hands in a placating gesture. “Because I’m used to seeing you as Carolyn Giraud, I’m not certain who you are.” She paused for emphasis. “I’d like you to tell me.” “Certainly.” A feral grin made the child look like something out of a nightmare. “It is always better to know who your adversary is.” Her voice became soft and silky. “I have access to magic you would kill for. You may not know it, but you’d like to work for us.” She laughed, but it sounded more like broken glass shattering against itself, than a twelve-year-old girl’s mirth. “We have real power, not that paltry tripe the Coven settles for.” Abigail waited. When Carolyn didn’t say anything else, she said, “I’m listening…and considering your offer. Life is always better than the alternative.” “Ha! They said you couldn’t be turned, but I told them they were wrong. I am The Promised, resurrected out of legend. Goody Osborne was but a start, and this little girl is merely a convenience.” Something like an outraged squawk followed the words, but Goody silenced Carolyn almost immediately. “What I really want is you, Abigail Ruskin.” Shit! She couldn’t be The Promised… “You mean the Dark Messiah?” Abigail scrunched up her face and held her breath, hoping against hope she’d gotten it wrong. “The same.” A supercilious expression etched into the girl’s features. “At least the other side has heard of me. Warms my black, black heart.” “The books—?” Abigail hunted for a connection while she rode herd on terror that threatened to immobilize her, and clouded her judgment. If ever she needed a clear head, it was now, but her mind raced feverishly. “They weren’t doing the girl’s parents any good moldering away in that underground chamber. I’d actually been searching for them for years.” She flashed a sly smile. “They used to be mine…” Blood and Magic Ann Gimpel Publisher: Taliesin Release Date: 5/1/14 Genre: Dark Paranormal Romance 63,000 words
Can Luke conquer his past and claim the only woman he’s ever loved? Book Description: Magic didn’t just find Luke Caulfield. It chased him down, bludgeoned him, and has been dogging him ever since. Some lessons are harder than others. Luke survives by embracing danger and upping the ante to give it one better. An enforcer for the Coven, a large, established group of witches, his latest assignment is playing bodyguard to the daughter of Coven leaders. Abigail Ruskin is chaperoning a spoiled twelve-year-old from New York to her parents’ home in Utah Territory when Luke gets on their stagecoach in Colorado. A powerful witch herself, Abigail senses Luke’s magic, but he’s so overwhelmingly male, she shies away from contact. Stuck between the petulant child and Luke’s raw sexual energy, Abigail can’t wait for the trip to end. Wraiths, wolves, and humans with dark magick attack. Unpleasant truths surface about the child and Abigail’s well-ordered world crashes around her. Luke’s so attracted to Abigail, she’s almost all he can think about, but he’s leery too. In over his head, he summons enforcer backup. Will they help him save the woman he’s falling in love with, or demand her immediate execution? Book Trailer: http://youtu.be/I-eauodEiOo
Short Bio: Ann Gimpel is a clinical psychologist, with a Jungian bent. Avocations include mountaineering, skiing, wilderness photography and, of course, writing. A lifelong aficionado of the unusual, she began writing speculative fiction a few years ago. Since then her short fiction has appeared in a number of webzines and anthologies. Her longer books run the gamut from urban fantasy to paranormal romance. She’s published over 20 books to date, with several more contracted for 2014. A husband, grown children, grandchildren and three wolf hybrids round out her family.
www.anngimpel.com http://anngimpel.blogspot.com http://www.amazon.com/author/anngimpel
Pangaea: Edenâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s Planet Tom Johnson Genre: Science Fiction/Survival Publisher: First Realm Publishing Date of Publication: June 18, 2014 ISBN -13: 978-1497340749 ISBN-10: 1497340748 ASIN: Number of pages: 100 Word Count: 50,000 Cover Artist: Jared from Off the Wall Creations Book Description: Seven astronauts en route to Mars encounter a time warp in space that disables their ship. Crash landing on Earth, they discover an alien planet sixty million years before the dinosaurs. Pangaea, the super continent, is filled with danger and terror, as they must survive against fierce reptiles that ruled the Earth 250 million years in the past!
Excerpt: Just as they thought they had reached the safety of the desert a giant Gorgon, fully twelve feet in length came out of nowhere, its long saber tooth-like tusks reaching for them. The colonel and Cooper had already holstered their guns in order to run unhampered, and the creature was upon them before either could draw their weapon. Manning smiled. “Everyone has a purpose.” Without hesitation, he stepped between the monster and his shipmates …
About the Author: As a twenty-year military veteran, I served on the Korean DMZ under fire, as well as in Vietnam. I have a law enforcement background. My studies of paleontology and entomology have been an influence in many of my novels. My wife and I started the publishing imprint of FADING SHADOWS in 1982, and published a hobby magazine and several genre magazines for 22 years, before I settled into writing my own novels. I have now been published in over 80 books, which include fiction novels and short stories, as well as nonfiction books. I write SF, YA, Western, and Action novels. Website http://www15.brinkster.com/jur1/index.html Pulp Den http://pulplair.blogspot.com
Jur Novels http://jurnovels.blogspot.com
Excerpt: Elektra landed on her knees on the ancient stone cobbled sidewalks and used the wall of Narita's edifice to help herself stand. The pain, now near unbearable, shrieked when she touched the blackened and bruised flesh to anything including cloth and she struggled against the throbbing crowds to make her way toward the only place she thought to go for help. "Please Mahmud I don't want to lose my arm. You have to help me," she stood before the selfappointed doctor of the proscribed citizens. He inspected it and then shook his head. "I can do nothing for you," he said. "It is already too far gone by now. Even should you sit in the sun for five days it would be no help." "I'll get you money. Whatever you want, I'll get it. Please, save my hand, please?" He shook his head again sorrowfully. "I can do nothing. This does not need my type of medicine. You must ask the mechanical doctors, those with science and not nature. I am sorry I cannot help you Elektra." Crying she stood against the wall of the crooked street, thinking what she might pay to those who if they could build space machines, could build anything. She slid down the wall and sat on her haunches against it sobbing. A shadow fell across her, changing the scorching temperature a degree. She opened her eyes and a man knelt before her. He took her arm and gently inspected it. "I can give you a new arm and hand," he said. "But you must pay what I ask." He stared directly into her eyes. "You will have a new armâ&#x20AC;&#x201D; a new handâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;better than before. But you must pay the price." "What is it you want?" Elektra asked, still gasping in pain. "Alekzander Brede." The Brede Chronicles Book 1 P. I. Barrington Genre: Science Fiction Romance/Adventure Publisher: First Realm Publishing Date of Publication: June 18, 2014 ISBN-13: 978-1497340831 ISBN-10:1497340837 ASIN:
Number of pages: 144 Word Count: 83,000 Cover Artist: Jared from Off the Wall Creations Book Description: Half-human Alekzander Brede is a law unto himself…or so he thinks. Elektra Tate, the street orphan who loves him has other ideas. When she betrays him for no apparent reason, he vows to punish her one way or another. Taking the one thing she treasures most—their son—begins a cat and mouse relationship spanning two planets and costing possibly his life. Elektra will stop at nothing to save her son but can she overcome Brede’s twisted idea of vengeance? About the Author: After an extended detour through the entertainment industry, P.I. Barrington has returned to writing fiction. Among her experience are radio air talent and the music industry. She lives in Los Angeles. Her work includes: Future Imperfect Trilogy (Crucifying Angel, Miraculous Deception, Final Deceit) Inamorata Crossing/Borealis 1: A Space Opera Isadora DayStar The Button Hollow Chronicles: The Leaf Peeper Murders Free stories on ReadWave.com & Wattpad.com Visit her at http://www.pibarrington.wordpress.com https://twitter.com/PIBarrington
Tips for Novice Writers Disclaimer: this post is tailored towards novice writers who intend to self-published. First of all, congratulations on admitting that you’re a writer. It’s the first step down into the rabbit hole, and possibly one of the scariest. Well, don’t be shy—pull up a chair. We’ve got things to discuss, novice writer. Coffee? Good. Start drinking it now because, trust me, you’re gonna need it later. It’s hard to find a place to start with tips for beginners in the writing field, but I guess the most important thing right off the bat is to advise you to ask yourself one question: “why do I write?” This question sounds simplistic enough at first, but in reality, it’s pretty loaded. Maybe your answer is simple—one sentence long, a couple words, whatever. And that’s fine. But if you’re like most writers, this question has a long answer. Before you start this journey, you need to understand why. It’s the most significant thing related to writing that you will have to face, because if you can’t come up with a substantial answer that makes your stomach flop and your skin leak with sweat, then this might not be the career for you. Do you write because you love it? Do you write because stories are constantly gushing out of you in every waking second, and even keeping you up at night? Do you write because there are things in life that leave you unsatisfied and you want to create something for yourself? Do you write because you can’t find what you’re looking for and so you’ve decided to craft it on your own? If the answer is yes, proceed to the following tips. If not, take some time off, drink some tea, stare off into the sunset while blasting some Simple Plan, and come back to it. Tip #1: Write. A lot. Constantly. Even when you’re tired and you don’t have enough time. Even when you’d rather sit in your underwear watching reruns of the X-Files on Netflix. Even when there’s a clearance sale on books at Barnes and Noble and you want to stuff your shelves to the gills. Write as much as you can whenever you can for as long as you can. Novice writers will hear this a lot without explanation, but I won’t leave you hanging because we’re bros. The reason why you need to write like your life depends on it is because it does. The end game in this business for most writers is to become self-sustainable on your work. In order to do that, at least if you’re an unknown self-published writer, is in volume. In the traditional publishing world, it’s possible to write one masterpiece and be set for life. E.L. James didn’t have to write a trilogy for her godawful monstrosity 50 Shades of Grey if she didn’t want to because she was an unexplained overnight success. But, sad as it sounds, that is probably not going to happen to you. What you must do is survive off of multiple works
because readers almost always tend to buy in bulk. There is an entire demographic that simply collects bargain books to read whenever they get around to it. If they like the cover, they buy it. If they like the blurb, they buy it. If it’s cheap and they like all of the above, they will not only buy that, but the next book in the series, and so forth. Do you know what drives those sales even more? If you release more than one book per year. Any of the major fiction franchises you know typically put out a book a year, and that works because they always break records. Their name is already out there. Yours isn’t. So one way to get yourself on the map is to be consistent and frequent. Think about the last book you read that you loved. What if two of them came out in the same year? Would that not make you jump for joy? Readers will too, even if you’re still relatively unknown, so the more you write, the more you can publish; the more you publish, the greater likelihood that you’ll get noticed and sell books. Tip #3: Edit your face off. I love writing. I hate editing. If editing had a face, I would punch it. But it’s 100% necessary if you don’t want to die penniless in a gutter. A lot of people put the emphasis only on writing your masterpiece, but no one writes a masterpiece right off the bat. You are going to find stuff in your work that sucks. Stuff that shouldn’t be there. Stuff that should be there that you forgot to include. Editing is what makes the difference between a decent writer and a great writer. It is my personal recommendation to put your book in a drawer for a month and leave it there. Don’t touch it. You’ll get the urge, but ignore it. Go about your life doing other fun things. Throw yourself a party for finishing your book and get drunk and dance around with a lampshade on your head. After a month, come back, print out your book, and sit down with a pen. Read slowly. Read it the first time for story; the second time for grammar; the third time for themes and motifs; the final time for continuity and character voice. You can honestly read it as many times as you want as long as you pour over that sucker until your eyes are crossed. Then find yourself a beta-reader or editor and send it to them. After it comes back, open the book again and fix it. Think of your book as a piece of gold that’s been buried underground for a century. No one’s going to care when it looks gross. Polish it until it’s so beautiful that people will trip over themselves trying to get it for themselves. Tip #2: Get thee to KBoards’ Writer’s Cafe. If you have never heard of KBoards, then please look it up right now because it will literally save you about a year’s worth of headaches. I’m not kidding. I struggled for seven months selling only about 40 copies of my first novel until I found out about KBoards. I spent four months on KBoards, and now I’ve sold over 500 copies of my first novel, and over 400 copies of my short story collection. Yes, it is that important. KBoards is basically just one massive forum of resources for self-published authors. Almost any question you can think of related to the marketing, writing, and publishing industries is buried somewhere in those threads. It’s completely free to sign up and I guarantee you will see results if you stick with it, ask questions, meet other writers, and stay updated on trends. It is bursting at the seams with useful tips and writers who just want to help each other. That is what is most worthwhile about KBoards. The sense of community is overwhelming. These writers are so kind and really excited to see each other succeed, and more than willing to help make it happen. I wouldn’t have gotten where I am without them, and so I think it is essential that you get started now before you even jump on the publishing bandwagon. Tip #3: Make a business plan. Wait, don’t leave! I know that sounds like scary grown up jargon, but I can explain. Every great writer has a business plan, even if it’s not called that in their head. What I mean is write down your goals: short term, year-long, and long-term. Set a timeline for each one. The first thing that will happen after you finish your book is that you’ll start losing days off the calendar as you start the process of
getting ready to publish. Most self-published authors have entire laundry lists of things to do before release date, and so will you. Therefore, you have to segment your workload in a sufficient manner to avoid being eaten by a grue. Dig into your lint-encrusted pockets and find yourself a budget. Then spread those pennies out as effectively as you can. The good news is that social media has made it a lot easier to market your work. The bad news is, it’s still just free marketing and it cannot by definition get you everywhere. If that were true, we’d all be Richard Castle. But we’re not. So you have to know your limits, know what kind of advertising you can afford, and which ones are the most effective. Research, research, research. Go to free online podcasts and seminars and write down things that worked for authors in similar genres. Absorb all of this into your body like some crazed version of Clayface. Then things will go a little easier for you. You’re still going to stumble and fall and skin your knees, but hopefully, some of these tips will make it hurt a little less. It’s a long journey. Buy comfortable shoes (and coffee, or tea, which I happen to prefer) and get walking, writers. Believe me, you’ll come to find that it’s worth it. Excerpt: Being Jordan Amador’s angelic bodyguard against a horde of bloodthirsty demons was a lot of things, but certainly not boring. I checked my watch for the fortieth time in the last twenty minutes. Jordan usually got off at eight o’clock. Things had been quiet for over two weeks now, which was rare for a Seer’s lifestyle. She encountered ghosts with unfinished business a few times a month and that kept the both of us busy. Earlier, she had convinced me to meet her at the bus stop a couple streets over instead of in front of the Sweet Spot. “So would you mind waiting for me at the bus stop instead of out here?” she had asked, sweeping her shoulder-length black hair up into its usual high ponytail. I frowned. “Why? Doesn’t it kind of defeat the purpose of the whole ‘temporary bodyguard’ thing?” “It’s been quiet for a while now, Michael. Come on. Helping avert the end of the world and ganking an archdemon aren’t enough to prove I can take care of myself?” I glanced between her and the store front. A couple of her waitress friends who were watching us through the window scattered as soon as I looked over. Then it clicked. “They think I’m your boyfriend, huh?” Jordan got really interested in her shoes all of the sudden. “Yeah. They do.” I shook my head. She was an anointed soul charged with helping the dead find peace and yet she still cared what her coworkers thought of our relationship. I couldn’t decide if it was cute, frustrating, or hilarious. Possibly all three. Then again, I could see how her coworkers would get confused that a six-foot-tall, dark-haired, greeneyed “underwear model” (which I overheard one of them dub me last week) dropped Jordan off at work on a frequent basis. I decided to be lenient for once. “Fine. We’ll give it a test run today. If you survive, I’ll take it into consideration.” She shot me a scowl. “Gee, thanks, almighty Michael. I am humbled that you considered the request of a lowly human.” I grinned. “You’re welcome, my humble servant.” She rolled her eyes and swatted my arm before turning to head into the restaurant. “Later, pretty boy.” “Stay out of trouble.” I called, and then headed back towards the bus stop. That had been eight hours ago. Getting off a shift late wasn’t unusual for a waitress, but most times it was by only five or ten minutes. My instincts needled at me that something was off. Sighing, I fished out my cell phone and called her, tapping my foot. “Come on, Amador, pick up.” Several rings. A click. Voicemail message. Ugh. I hung up and stuffed my hands in my pockets. It was a short walk through the heavily trafficked area on this side of Albany, New York, but it was during one of the busier times of the day. Nighttime in the city meant chatty couples walking through holding hands, teenagers
hollering and chasing each other down the street, and music pouring out from the clubs already packed to the rafters with the twenty-somethings. Two stop lights, one near-death experience courtesy of a speeding cab, and one step in some gum later, and I reached the glowing red sign to the Sweet Spot. The Southern cuisine eatery was busy. As much as Northerners made fun of the South in sitcoms and stand up shows, they sure did like the food. I pushed the door open and smiled at Beth, the head hostess. “Hey, you.” “Michael.” The short blonde grinned. “Good to see you as always.” “Is Jordan still in the back?” A slight frown marred her brow. “No, honey. She left about ten minutes ago.” I froze. “Left how? She was supposed to meet me at the bus stop.” “She went out back to take out the trash and I just assumed she went home after. Why? Something wrong?” A cold lump settled in my stomach. Something wasn’t adding up. Jordan wasn’t the type to disappear without texting me. I didn’t want to concern her friends so I kept my expression pleasant. “Nah, she probably just wandered off to window shop. I’ll catch up with her. Thanks, Beth.” “No problem, sweets.” I made a point to leave the restaurant in a casual manner, but once I was out of sight, I hurried around the block to the back of the building. The Sweet Spot was part of an entertainment district in this section of Albany. There were narrow alleys between the establishments and the streets ran parallel to the store fronts. The Sweet Spot’s back alley looked like any other restaurant in Albany—lined by dumpsters and garbage cans. The concrete was littered with fallen bits of food. A couple of mangy cats fought over fish bones. The entire area stank to high heaven. I called Jordan’s phone again and prayed that my instincts were wrong. The raucous chorus to Right Said Fred’s “I’m Too Sexy” echoed behind me. I turned towards one of the dumpsters and lifted the entire thing with one hand. Her phone lay cracked and forlorn underneath it. Shit. The Deadly Seven Black Parade Series Book 2 Kyoko M Number of pages: 120 Word Count: 58,546 ASIN: B00K706A5M Cover Artist: Christine Savoie and Katie Litchfield Book Description: Michael O’Brien. 24. New Yorker. Musician. Commander of Heaven’s army. It’s been centuries since Michael stayed on Earth for an extended period of time. Now he’s here because of Jordan Amador—a Seer who helped him
restore his life and memories and thwart the archdemon Belial from taking over the city. With Jordan on Belialâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s hit list, Michael decides to stick around and live out life alongside her as her friend and temporary bodyguard. But as the days pass, he finds it harder to resist the seven deadly sins that tempt all men. Especially as he and Jordan grow closer fighting the demons who want her almost as much as he doesâ&#x20AC;Ś Available at Amazon About the Author: Kyoko M is an author, a fangirl, and an avid book reader. Her debut novel, The Black Parade, made it through the first round of Amazon's 2013 Breakthrough Novel Contest. She participated and completed the 2011 National Novel Writing Month competition. She has a Bachelor of Arts in English Lit degree from the University of Georgia, which gave her every valid excuse to devour book after book with a concentration in Greek mythology and Christian mythology. When not working feverishly on a manuscript (or two), she can be found buried under her Dashboard on Tumblr, or chatting with fellow nerds on Twitter, or curled up with a good Harry Dresden novel on a warm central Florida night. Like any author, she wants nothing more than to contribute something great to the best profession in the world, no matter how small. Website: http://www.shewhowritesmonsters.com Blog: http://www.shewhowritesmonsters.com Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/misskyokom Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/She-Who-Writes-Monsters/161227150647087 GoodReads: http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7189997.Kyoko_M_
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PUTTING THE THRILL(er) IN PARANORMAL ROMANCE Susannah Sandlin Paranormal romance and urban fantasy have always shared about 75 percent of their DNA—sometimes more. Most UF has a little romance sprinkled in (or a lot), and most paranormal romance has an urban fantasy-like action plot chugging along behind the relationships. The basic difference for me, since I write series in both genres, used to be how the books wrapped up. With my Penton Legacy series, I’m starting to change those rules a little bit. Used to be, if a book’s primary hero/heroine resolved their relationship by the end of the book but the action story line was not resolved, it was a paranormal romance. Think Black Dagger Brotherhood. Wrath and Beth might work out their relationship, but the war with the Lessers goes on. If a book’s action storyline got resolved (at least for the time being) but the relationships were still in flux—or the same relationship carried over from book to book—you had urban fantasy. Think Patricia Briggs’ Mercy Thompson books. The immediate danger to Mercy and her compatriots in each book is resolved by the end, while Mercy and Adam’s relationship continues to grow and evolve as the books continue. Then you have the troublemaker who upset the old applecart and tossed out the rulebook. Yes, Jeaniene Frost, I’m looking at you. (It’s okay, I’m smiling as I do it.) Is the Night Huntress series an urban fantasy? You might think so, because it comes back to Cat and Bones, right? The immediate threat is handled and the couple carries over from book to book. But because Cat and Bones’ relationship takes up as much page time, or more, than the external plot, there’s also a good case for it to be paranormal romance. The action and romance is all woven together in a beautiful, genre-defying swirl. When I wrote the first book in the Penton series, REDEMPTION, long before I’d ever read the Night Huntress series, I set out to straddle that genre fence. In that book, Aidan and Krys’s relationship took equal weight with the external plot of a vampire world on the brink of starvation after a human pandemic vaccine rendered the blood of vaccinated humans poisonous. And I had trouble selling it. It has too much romance, said urban fantasy editors. It doesn’t have enough romance, said romance editors. Nobody wanted to break the genre line. Finally, I gave in and changed the 50-50 romance-to-action ratio to more of a 60-40 with the heaviest weight on the romance. It’s been a good ratio for me because it lets me write the rich, engrossing action-laced story lines and complex worlds I love while also giving my hero and heroine enough page time to get to know each other and develop their relationships. The new book in the series, ALLEGIANCE, continues that ratio, with Cage and his romantic entanglements taking about sixty percent of the book, but the action-laced looming vampire civil war claiming the other 40. Because what goes with hot romance better than a little danger and sabotage? What about you? Do you like a little romance with your urban fantasy, a little urban fantasy with your romance, or do you like to see it all blended together?
Excerpt: Mirren Kincaid was six feet, eight inches of muscle and bad attitude, and Cage would wager few had ever spoken to him the way the girl had. At least not and lived to tell about it. Cage glanced at Nik, who was biting his lower lip and not doing a very good job of hiding his own amusement. “Is she always like this?” Nik gave a slow shake of the head. “Negative. Not at all.” He paused. “Sometimes she’s worse.” This time, Cage couldn’t stop the smile that spread across his face. “This is going to be fun, as long as we stay out of the way.” “I can f**king hear you, Reynolds.” Mirren growled at Cage over his shoulder, but kept his eyes pinned on the girl. Woman, Cage should say, although she was so diminutive next to the Scottish behemoth it was hard not to see her as a waif. Probably accounted for her Mirren-like attitude. Short-man syndrome, so to speak. Mirren’s hands balled into fists, and if the man had still been human, his face would have turned about six ugly shades of pissed off. Cage couldn’t see the big guy’s expression, but he’d bet those gray eyes had gone from thunderstorm to snowstorm. “The colonel has lost his mind.” Mirren’s voice dropped about an octave. “What could you possibly do to help us here?” She propped her hands on her hips, gave Mirren a slow, sultry once-over with more than a little come-hither in her expression, and lowered her voice—but not so low that Cage couldn’t hear. “I can do things to you that are beyond your wildest dreams, vampire.” “Uh-oh,” Nik muttered under his breath. “She’s gonna blow.” If Cage hadn’t been afraid Mirren would turn his wrath on the nearest safe target—him, in other words—he would’ve explained to Nik that Mirren was showing uncharacteristic restraint, and if anyone was going to violently break the stalemate it would be the big guy. “Little girl, I suggest you walk back into whatever hole in the woods you crawled out of.” Mirren’s voice dropped even lower and softer. Funny how, on some people, a soft voice was more menacing than a shout. “In the morning, the colonel can reassign you to a more fitting place. I don’t care what you turn into— squirrel, otter . . .” He gave her a head-to-toe once-over and waved his hand in a dismissive gesture. “Chipmunk.” Nik groaned and looked at the ground. “Oh, man.” Ashton took a step toward Mirren, craning her neck again. “And where might that more fitting place be, Mirren Kincaid? Oh, don’t look surprised. I did my homework. Where is it you think I belong in this man’s army? On my back?” Mirren shrugged. “Probably, but don’t spread your legs on my account, honey.” The air around them crackled with tension, and even Cage thought Mirren had gone a step too far. He opened his mouth to suggest that Nik take Ashton far, far away for the evening and start fresh at dusk tomorrow, maybe with a referee. He froze at her expression, though. She was grinning, dark eyes alight with mirth and a look Cage recognized all too well. The undeniable, addictive power of the adrenaline rush. Ashton was having fun. Clearly, the woman was insane. She was suicidal. She was . . . superb. With a screech that would do a banshee proud, she ran at Mirren headfirst. If Cage hadn’t heard the man’s oof and been knocked off-balance himself when Mirren fell ass over teakettle, he’d have sworn he’d hallucinated the whole thing. “Told ya,” mumbled Nik, who’d stepped out of the way with nimble speed. A burst of pain erupted on Cage’s cheek, followed by the trickle of blood streaming toward his neck. Damn, but that little woman could throw a punch. Unfortunately, she was throwing them so hard and fast, she’d clocked him as well as Mirren. Cage rolled out of the line of fire and took the outstretched hand Nik offered. “That woman is barking mad.” Cage rubbed his jaw, amazed that Mirren was fending off blows but not striking back.
Nik nodded. “As a hatter.” Finally, breathing hard from either fists or fury, or both, the woman stopped her assault. She sat astride Mirren, looking down at him with a frown. “Why the fuck won’t you fight back? Afraid of being beat by a sorority girl? It’s no fun if you don’t fight back.” Cage waited for it. The name-calling. Maybe a backhand to show Ashton what the Slayer was made of—which, even from his prone position, would send her flying. The lesson-teaching that was sure to follow. Instead, the choked noise Mirren uttered was one it took a moment for Cage to recognize because he’d never heard it from the man. Didn’t think it was possible. Mirren Kincaid was laughing. His voice even sounded different—lighter, amused. “What the hell are you, Ashton?” She climbed off him and rose to her full height, which wasn’t much. “Eagle shifter. And a damn good tracker. And stronger than you fang-faces can imagine. Plus, I can fly. So don’t fuckin’ mess with me.” Mirren rolled to his feet with surprising grace for a man his size and rubbed his face. The fingers he drew from his mouth were covered in blood from multiple scratches, and there appeared to be tooth marks along his jawline. “You got a first name?” Ashton squinted up at Mirren a few heartbeats. “It’s Robin.” An eagle named Robin. Bloody brilliant. Cage opened his mouth to comment but caught an elbow in the ribs from Nik, who gave a slight shake of his head. Right. Don’t tease the eagle about her name. Mirren seemed to have reached the same conclusion, since he bypassed any comment about ironic names. “Guess you’ll work out after all, Ashton. Gonna have to find a new place for you to crash, though. Since the colonel didn’t say you were a girl”—Cage saw Robin’s eyebrow take a dangerous spike at that, but Mirren was oblivious—“I’d planned to put you and Zorba in a room together.” “That’s fine.” Robin ran her fingers through her short, spiky hair, and Cage tracked the movement. Such delicate fingers in hands that held such power. “We sleep together half the time anyway.” “Aw, shit,” Nik huffed out under his breath. “I swear that woman has no filter.” Interesting. “And where do you sleep the other half of the time, little bird?” The words came out before Cage could stop them, which he instantly regretted. Talk about no filters; his were usually a mile high but they seemed to have suddenly vaporized. He’d been off Robin Ashton’s radar during her preoccupation with Mirren. Now, however, she stepped away from Mirren and looked at him. Really looked. Cage felt naked, as if she could see way more than he’d ever intended to share. When had he developed such a big mouth? “You asking me to sleep with you the rest of the time, vampire?”
Allegiance Penton Vampire Legacy Book 4 Susannah Sandlin Genre: Paranormal Romantic Thriller Publisher: Montlake Romance Date of Publication: June 10, 2014
ISBN: 978-1477823316 ASIN: B00HQLQYWY Number of pages: 344 Word Count: 93,000 Amazon
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Book Description: From award-winning author Susannah Sandlin comes the fourth book in the smart and steamy Penton Legacy series. British vampire psychiatrist and former mercenary Cage Reynolds returns to Penton, Alabama, looking for a permanent home. The town has been ravaged by the ongoing vampire war and the shortage of untainted human blood, and now the vampires and humans that make up the Omega Force are trying to rebuild. Cage hopes to help the cause, put down roots in Penton, and resolve his relationship with Melissa Calvert. The last thing he expects is an attraction to Robin Ashton, a trash-talking eagle shape-shifter and new Omega recruit. Meanwhile, as a dangerous saboteur wreaks havoc in Penton, the ruthless Vampire Tribunal leader Matthias Ludlam has been freed on the eve of his scheduled execution. But by whom? And to what end? As war and chaos rage on, love is the last thing Cage is looking for, but will his attraction to Robin distract him from the danger living among them? About the Author: Susannah Sandlin writes paranormal romance and romantic thrillers from Auburn, Alabama, on top of a career in educational publishing that has thus far spanned five states and six universitiesâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;including both Alabama and Auburn, which makes her bilingual. She grew up in Winfield, Alabama, but was also a longtime resident of New Orleans, so she has a highly refined sense of the absurd and an ingrained love of SEC football, cheap Mardi Gras trinkets, and fried gator on a stick. Website: http://www.suzannejohnsonauthor.com Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/SusannahSandlin Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/AuthorSuzanneJohnson
As Eran's feet left the ground, he found me in the crowd and gave me one final burning look. There was something in his eyes now, not pride at having subdued Jacob or to impress upon me the importance of the lesson he'd just demonstrated. All that seemed to have been forgotten. No, what I saw was intense curiosity. And just before he broke our gaze to adjust his sight on the route they were taking, I was certain that he felt the same way I didâ&#x20AC;Śthat he wished he understood what had just happened between us. As the rest of us watched in awed silence, I couldn't help but notice that, in a way similar to the messengers on their arrival, Eran's group departed with the same close-knit familiarity. "Who are they?" I asked, my head still tilted back. "Part of a legion," Daniel replied. Despite my seclusion, I'd heard of legions. There were several of them, each with a primary purpose. "Which one?" "The one that oversees castigated entities." "Those who have wronged humankind?" "Yes, the Fallen Ones," confirmed Daniel. I'd heard of them, too. In passing. "And Eran's a part of that legion?" "No," Daniel said with a subdued chuckle. "Not a part of, the leader of. He's their colonel." "Colonel?" I said, finally lowering my head. Eran had been out of sight for a while, but this was the first time I'd felt enough conviction to look away. "You really have no idea who he is, do you?" Daniel was astonished. "No." He didn't reply for what felt like a very long time. "Eran has been credited with keeping the most dangerous entities from committing further atrocious acts while they are sentenced to an eternity on earth." "You mean his legion has," I corrected him. "No, I mean Eran. There is a reason why he is renowned. When the most vicious of the Fallen Ones are too much for others in the legion to handle, they request Eran, which is to say
that he pursues and restrains those who all others cannot handle." "That takes skill," Jacob muttered, stretching a kink from his neck. Daniel chuckled at the understatement. "Some of which you just witnessedâ&#x20AC;Ś personally," he added. I didn't share Daniel's humor, being too preoccupied by who I'd just met, and how his attention had been so finely tuned to me. "Do you think he'll be back?" "Eran?" Daniel said. "It's possible. I've heard every action he makes is deliberateâ&#x20AC;Ś calculated. He was here with a reason today. If he returns, he'll have a reason then too." Jacob groaned, evidently not anticipating Eran's return. "Next time you can spar with him." Daniel chuckled. "I'd think our time would be better spent training the messengers, which is something we should probably return toâ&#x20AC;Ś," he hinted. Jacob nodded, rubbing the side of his neck where I remember a vine had hit him. Daniel pitied his friend through a quiet, suppressed laugh, wrapping a friendly arm across Jacob's shoulders and walking him toward the waiting group. But my attention drifted back to the sky where Eran had disappeared. The anticipation of seeing him again proved too much and my insides were ignited in a way I'd never felt before. That searing pleasure worked its way through my belly, and as much as I wanted to dwell in that sensation, I had to force myself to ignore it. There was work to be done and that feeling was a distraction. Resigned to concentrate on my task at hand, I joined the messengers shortly after, but not before peering back for one more lingering glance at the sky. Messenger The Guardian Trilogy Prequel Book One Laury Falter Book Description: Messenger is the first prequel to the bestselling Guardian Trilogy - the breathtaking romantic saga about a love that has lasted centuries between a messenger and her guardian. Maggie does not know she is a messenger. She has never met her eternal lover. She has never survived a Fallen One. All this changes when a messenger awakens in the Hall of Records only to die moments later, never to return. As Maggie sets out to determine why the messengers are suddenly beginning to die, she crosses paths with the infuriatingly appealing Eran and
their story begins. In this riveting account of Maggie's first life on earth with Eran, the star-crossed lover's romance transpires amidst treacherous enemies, their friends' resistance, and their own opposing wills. With the odds against her, can Maggie survive long enough to admit the feelings she has so carefully denied? Amazon
About the Author: Laury Falter is a bestselling author of young adult romantic suspense and urban fantasy. She has three series out: the Guardian Trilogy, the Residue Series, and the Apocalypse Chronicles. Website: http://www.lauryfalter.com Twitter page: http://www.twitter.com/LauryFalter Facebook page: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Laury-Falter/196033543803745
Goodreads page: http://www.goodreads.com/lauryfalter
Normally stepping into a garden would soothe me, but we were still within London, where there was no comfort whatsoever. I looked up at the night sky and wished I were with Michael. “You have the soul of an artist, Miss Rose. It is a rare gift.” Mr. Paris stroked my hand, and I tugged it free of his arm. I folded both hands before me primly and smiled. “Again, that is very kind of you.” “I consider myself a patron of the arts.” “So you attend gatherings such as this often?” I asked. “Of course. I am always on the lookout for new talent.” “I see. Did you know Mrs. Harding?” I tried to examine his aura to determine his reaction, but his magic continued to be so overwhelming that my eyes watered. Mr. Paris must be unspeakably powerful, and I found myself both worried and intrigued. Perhaps he was a sorcerer? One who specialized in darkness? “I did. Poor girl. What a terrible thing to have happened to her and her family… Tell me, are you working on a second collection of your work?” he asked, quickly changing the subject. “I am, though I am afraid the subject matter is quite a bit darker.” Mr. Paris smiled a predatory grin, and my pulse leapt with a thrill of fear. “I am not afraid of the dark, Miss Rose. Are you?” He stepped closer, but I held my ground, studying him with a curious tilt to my head. “What are you?” I asked. He blinked, startled. “I beg your pardon?” “What sort of magic do you practice?” I clarified. “Oh. I am a librarian, of course,” he replied, and I laughed, unable to help myself. “What’s so funny?” “You are most certainly not a librarian. Do people truly believe that lie?” The smile slid from Mr. Paris’s face as his expression hardened. He stepped forward and tried to grab my arm, but Miss Dubois was suddenly between us, a shining silver blur. With a snarl he turned and ran, and the guardian chased him out of the garden and into the street. Uncertain of what to do, I followed. I stood hesitant at the garden gate, wondering which way they went. My vision shifted, and I followed Miss Dubois’s blazing footsteps. I paused next to a blur traced over the high brick wall of another garden. It was another magical doorway, rather like the one I had discovered near Mrs. Harding’s body outside the Undiscovered Country. Foolishly I raised my hand to touch it, despite knowing full well that doing so could trigger another vision, but a hand emerged from the brick wall and grabbed my wrist. Overwhelmed with shock, I barely managed a strangled gasp as Mr. Paris stepped through the wall and glared down at me. “Who are you?” he demanded. “You first.” My voice trembled, and Mr. Paris grinned. He tightened his grip and snapped several small bones in my wrist, and I screamed.
“Who are you?” he repeated. Something bubbled up within me, a bright plume of prophetic magic that became my answer. “I am your end.” That time my voice did not tremble at all, but was filled with terrible certainty. I would cause Mr. Paris’s death, and I knew it with as much confidence as I knew the sun would rise in the morning. Something in my gaze must have worried him, because he snarled. Scowling, he grabbed my forearm with both hands and twisted. The bone snapped like dry kindling, and I screamed again. Before he could torment me further Miss Dubois arrived and bashed him with a round silver shield. Mr. Paris vanished into thin air, and the guardian stood near me. One arm bore the shield, while in her other hand she held a sword. How cunning of her. I wanted a sword as well. “Are you all right?” she asked. My knees wobbled and began to buckle, but then two dark blurs streaked up to us, and I was suddenly swept from my feet and cradled close in Michael’s arms. “Darling! What happened?” he asked. “You caught me.” I blinked—however had he moved that fast? Simon sighed and shook his head at his student, and I sensed that Michael and I were both in for a scolding. “Of course I did. I will always catch you. Are you all right?” Poison in the Blood Bad Witch: The Emily Chronicles Book 2 Robyn Bachar Genre: Paranormal Romance Publisher: Samhain Publishing E-book: June 18, 2013 Print: June 3, 2014 ISBN: E-book 978-1-61921-587-0 ISBN: Print 978-1-61921-916-8 ASIN: Number of pages: 272 Word Count: 55,711 Cover Artist: Kanaxa Book Description: She is honey to his throat…but one sweet taste could part them forever… Banished from home while her husband adjusts to life as an immortal, blood-drinking chronicler, Emily Black is homesick, heartsick and struggling under the constant sensory barrage of a city drenched in ancient magic. When an old friend asks for her aid in solving a string of murders, she welcomes the distraction, despite the danger. Justine Dubois is grateful for a seer’s help, and more understanding than anyone of Emily’s plight. As a guardian, Justine commands respect; as a woman, her magic is considered inferior. Together, they are determined to prove their worth to London’s magicians, starting with solving these murders—with maybe a bit of matchmaking on the side.
Long before he met his soul mate, Michael Black made a commitment to join the Order of St. Jerome. He will live forever, forced to watch the woman he loves age and die. As Emily hunts the murderer, Michael struggles to protect her. But if he loses control of his hunger, the greatest threat to her safety could be Michael himself. Warning: Contains tortured soul mates, scheming faeries, vampire debauchery, deadly parasols, illicit blood-drinker relations, and adorable plot moppets. Amazon
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Readers can receive 30% off the ebook of Poison in the Blood from the Samhain Store by using the coupon code POISON14 at checkout. About the Author:
Robyn Bachar was born and raised in Berwyn, Illinois, and loves all things related to Chicago, from the Cubs to the pizza. It seemed only natural to combine it with her love of fantasy, and tell stories of witches and vampires in the Chicagoland area. As a gamer, Robyn has spent many hours rolling dice, playing rock-paper-scissors and slaying creatures in MMPORGs.
Stitch Witches Interview with Brom from Paranormal Pleasures II: No Place I’d Rather Be There is a boutique hiding out between the fractured, narrow storefronts lining New Gotham’s foggy docks. The shingles are ribbed and black. Washed, peeling paint and displays offering views into wicked leather and lace studded glam. The mannequins are ghoulish beauties stitched together from whatever was left from the last fool to cross one of the sinister witches. Welcome to Sinister Stitches “…apparel for a wicked fairy tale.” A spicy trinity of black magic sisters breathe star-dusted dreams to life with their gothic apparel boutique. They are schooled in the old ways of “fabric-bending” by the Needlewitches of old. With this knowledge, they’ve created an entire line of clothing that all share the same basic design element: one-size fits all. Each garment will magically tailor itself to its wearer once worn. Last time the Witches-Who-Stitch, hosted a literary catwalk, heroines were called from all walks of life and genres to challenge their seamstress skills. This time, their men have joined the fun—apparently, they’ve been sent to the boutique. (Whether they like it, or not.) The witches were NOT expecting men. Their expertise is usually limited to DEMANDING their husbands NOT wear that in public, and, of course, the fashioning of fantastic clothing for all of literature’s heroines. (New Gotham’s men usually get their goods from Rumpel’s Twisted Threads, BUT that’s beyond the point, the girls put a quill to their interview, changed some bits, and rose to the occasion.) To enjoy the hilarity, please check out some of the questionnaire Roxanne Rhoad’s Brom from No Place I’d Rather Be (Paranormal Pleasures II) was asked to fill out after he stalked into Sinister Stitches. THE WITCHES WHO STITCH QUESTIONNAIRE Please provide the witches with your name: Brom
Please provide the witches with the following: Hair Color: Blond Hair Length: [ ] Short and Sharp, [ ] Shaggy and Sexy, [x] Lush and Long Eye Color: Blue Skin Tone: [ ] Ghoulish, [x] Snow White, [ ] Cina-baby, [ ] Mochalicious, [ ] Dark Chocolate, [ ] Other:_________ Please provide the witches with your measurements and body-type a.) Height: 6 foot b.) Body Type: [ ] Skeletal, [ ] Lean and Tender, [x] Lean and Tough, [ ] Ripe and Edible Do you have any extra extremities? Place an “X” to all that apply. [ ] Horns or [ ] Halo [ ] 20 ft. of Hair or More [ ] Gills and Fins or [ ] Hooves [ ] Wings (Span: ) [ ] Tail (How many: ) How many heads do you have? (Your boy bit doesn’t count!) Just one. Do you have arms and legs? If so, how many? Normal, 2 of each. How dead are you?  Living, [X] Undead, [ ] Astral Form What are you? (Species/Breed) Vampire What is the occasion? (Ideas include: Wedding, Funeral, Sabbath, etc. Oh, and seduction is a valid occasion. The more details, the better.) Seductive date night with our poly triad (m/f/m) vampire/witch/human What’s the occasion setting? (Beach, haunted castle, grand ball, etc.) Fancy dinner party Will you be fighting for your life at some point in the evening? Possibly, one should always be prepared Will you be set on fire? Better yet, will you be setting other people on fire? I hope not Will you be grave-robbing? (Dirt is a tailor’s tedium.) Definitely not
What are you wearing right now? Who picked that outfit out? (Basically, who let you leave the crypt in those?) After a couple centuries, I think I am capable of dressing myself though occasionally I do love a magical touch Do you hope to be naked at some point in the evening? (All right, dirty birds. Such questions are actually intended toward the weres and shifters in regards to their transformations.) You did say weres and shifters but as a vampire bent on seduction, nakedness is always on menu Describe your last brush with Death in two sentences. (Helps us plan for the unexpected.) Stupid jealous human with a wooden stake tried to best me, it didn’t work Do you need a secret compartment for gigantic swords? Guns and condoms? Eyeliner, maybe? No, not at all. What are your three favorite colors? Red, black, midnight blue What two colors ninja your brain, sweetie? Anything bright and sunny, vampires and bright colors just do not mix Please pick a style that you feel embodies you the best. If none apply, feel free to surprise us by providing your own brilliant description in the “other” slot. [ ] Dark Angel: This is for the spoonfuls of charming. The good-natured and naughty boys next door types. Thoughtful and sensual. Loyal and intelligent. More often than not, his head is in the clouds, but those dreams and that smile holds hope for all of us. Our philosophers. [ ] Beast King: This is for the warlords and alphas. The type of men who walk into a room and their presence hushes out the sun. They live in their bodies, but their minds are searching for the next challenge. Hands for fighting and these boots for ass-kickings. Our protectors. [ ] Smooth Criminal: This is for the bad boys. You know, the types---mother’s worse nightmares. The kind of man that makes your skin itch every time he devours you with that hundred yard stare. Chances are his senses of humor is as wicked as his tongue. To hold him, isn’t to catch him. Our scheming rogues. [x] Black Knight: This for the mysteries. The ones no one can quite make heads or tails out off. He’s a mixture, a melting pot of strong, sinister, and sweet. He might be Dark Angel one day, and a Smooth Criminal other days. Our brothers. [ ] Other: _____________________
Who is your favorite comic/storybook villain? Villain…Loki If you could be any comic/storybook book hero, who would it be? Superman, yes he is the best superhero because he was born that way, not made. Now, tell us who you love the most. Sonora is my everything. Anything else you’d like to add… After many barrels of chocolate, a dash of magic, and furious sewing… Sinister Stitches’ Gothic Dame Madame Mari presents Brom’s Completed Threads “Count Classic”
The fey lingering in the shadows is old, monarch-like butterfly wings dwarf her face in dark shadows, and her flowing Mortisha gown was spun from cobwebs and spider tears. All you can see are her eyes. Slanted, glowing and violet. They’re al-
most…arachnid. If you’re a woman, you’re just a little disturbed. If you’re a man, you are most intrigued (If you’re LGBT, you’re lovin’ it). After all, a Muse never ages. She motions toward the ghoulish mannequin, and a smile pinches her wrinkled, red mouth: Capable of dressing yourself? Ha, don’t make me cackle, boy. First of all, I ain’t sure what you’re doin’ here, shugah. Why on earth did you come here? There is another store in New Gotham that does nothing but tailor threads for men. Be sure to grab a Twisted Threads business card from the counter before you go. Of course, we’ll fashion something for you to wear to the dinner party. Does no good to turn down good business, and, you, sir vampire… *uses the tip of an African blackwood wand to lower her glitter purple granny shades on the bridge of her sleek nose* Are good, good business. What? What’s that face for? *cackles happily* Goodness, relax. I haven’t the wings for that kind of thing anymore. Besides, we’ve got some stitchin’ to do, eh? You’re a classic, so we’ve made sure to keep things sharp and neat. I’ve had Brenda brandish those killer scissors of hers, and she’s snippet you an elegant “American” style three-piece sinful black suit. It is meant for those with wider frames, it will give you flawless lines. It isn’t tapered down the sides either, but it is tailored tight to the shoulders. We don’t want your single-singled breasted jacket hanging loosely. And frankly, we’ve decided to do away with shoulder pads. You don’t need ‘em, shugah. The gorge between the lapels is a little higher than normal, but we wanted to draw the proper attention to your neckpiece. A simple Cary Grant bow tie. Timeless. Oh, and we’ve also given the suit “Doctor Cuffs.” They were originally used when designing suits for Victorian doctors, allowing them to roll up their sleeves without having to take off their jackets while tending patients. We thought that might come in handy, should things get…well, a little bloody. We suggest pairing this suit with a Dracula fan-collared cloak, or a Helsing leather duster. The inner lining should be red, but white might be an interesting contrast. Likewise, Astrid insists you tie back all that blond hair into a single tail at the nape of your neck. You know, so the ladies have easy access to that throat for…bloody kisses. Now, why don’t you go find yourself a tall bite to drink? (Or two.) IMPORTANT BULLETINS from THE PIXIES: For more information about Roxanne Rhoads and Brom the Vampire’s adventures in No Place I’d Rather Be (Paranormal Pleasures II), please check out her author website. Care to check out the last round of Sinister Stitches interviews? Check out Sophie Avett and Jennifer Blackstream’s paranormal den, the Brimstone Pub. All SS interviews are retired there after their tour until the release of the SS e-book. Fancy a tour of New Gotham? Check out New Gotham’s Survival Guide! It might save your life! For more information about Sophie Avett’s New Gotham Fairy Tales, the Sinister Stitches series, and recent releases, please check out her website. Image Credit(s): Handmademedia Image Editing Credit(s): Elaina, For the Muse Design
Cry Wolf A New Gotham Fairy Tale Sophie Avett Genre: Dark Fantasy Romance (MM/New Adult) Publisher: Skeleton Key Publishing Date of Publication: May 1, 2014 Number of pages: est. 22 pages Word Count: est. 10, 000 Cover Artist: Elaina, For the Muse Design Amazon BN ARe Kobo Smashwords Book Description: There’s a wild animal on the loose in the black forests surrounding New Gotham... Not that anyone cares. Well, Peter doesn't care. Peter Ume is more interested in finding a way to alleviate the skull-numbing boredom of a city wide shut down. So far his ideas for excitement hover between stealing an unwary idiot’s underwear (soul works, too), setting someone’s eyebrows on fire, or stabbing the next person he meets in the eye with a hot French fry. It turns out, he’ll be able to save assault and theft for a rainy day. As luck would have it, this naughty kitsune is about to meet the big bad wolf. And man, is the wolf in for a surprise... Warning: This story can be read as a standalone, but you will want to smack Sophie for it. (Or so the ravens have said.) So, do keep in mind that there is a part two. (And it will be a freebie. Sophie’s Pixies will carrier pigeon everyone more information soon.) About the Author: Sophie Avett is kind of a nerd. Like not even one of the cute, hip ones everyone brags about nowadays. More like the socially awkward hippie who eats way too much bread and dreams about being a dragon from behind towers of mythology books. Um...yeah. Picture old, tattered paperbacks and comic books--mostly Batman and Wonder Woman--dwarfing a tiny desk, with just barely enough room for the troll who writes there and the 70 pound hell-hound that insists on laying it's wet nose on top of her bare foot. Granted not the most exciting existence, but she tries to make up for it by writing romances populated with her own peculiar ilk of paranormal beasties. Trolls, wyverns, the obscure Nordic brownie--she likes to keep things interesting. And bloody. (And mostly naked--but, we'll keep that bit between us.)
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/SophieAvett Goodreads: https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/7779293.Sophie_Avett Sinister Stitches Boutique Blog: http://sophieavettsinisterstitches.blogspot.com/ Newsletter Post-Its, the Blog: http://sophieavett.weebly.com/post-its-the-blog.html Brimstone Pub, the Blog: http://thebrimstonepub.com/
Paranormal Pleasures II Ten More Tales of Supernatural Seduction By Roxanne Rhoads Genre: Paranormal Erotica Publisher: Bewitching Books Award winning author Roxanne Rhoads brings you ten more tales of supernatural seduction featuring demonic desires, wanton witches, voluptuous vampires, and ghosts with grave needsâ&#x20AC;Ś Four brand new, never published short stories have been combined with six previously published, freshly edited tales to give you a collection of hot paranormal erotica you can really sink your fangs into. Available at Amazon BN Smashwords Scent of a Vampire Aidan has searched several human lifetimes for his perfect mate. Now that heâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s found her, he refuses to let go. He must make Gabrielle see they were destined to be together. Immortal Flame An off duty fire fighter encounters a sexy vampire in what he thought was an abandoned house.
The flames that ignite will leave them both scorched…and aching for more. An Unexpected Evening Samuel is a centuries-old vampire who prefers to be a recluse. He is always afraid of losing control and becoming the monster he once was. Falling in love with a young witch has pushed his boundaries and pulled him out of his comfort zone. Katerina always encourages Samuel to be more open, to let loose, and to really "live" instead of only existing in the shadows. One night, he finally grants her wish . . . in ways she never imagined. Underneath the Fangs Samuel is being framed for murder. Katerina knows he is not guilty but she has to convince Samuel that he is not a monster and that he is worthy of her love. Cemetery Seduction Abby, a half witch, half vampire whose powers go awry in a club, has to run, afraid that the Others, who are policing all human/magic interaction, might put her in jail. She ends up in a cemetery, jumps behind a bush and lands right on top of a very sexy ghost hunter. No Place I'd Rather Be Sonora is torn between a human and a vampire. How can she choose between the man who makes her feel safe and the vampire that makes her blood race? Sonora prays to the Goddess for guidance while harboring secret desires that her broody vampire, Brom, and her brawny human, Avery, can get past their jealousy and be willing to do more than just share the witch in the middle. Can the Goddess grant Sonora's wish, or will she be stuck making an impossible choice? Contains m/f/m and m/m Blood, Lust and Shadows Vampire/succubus hybrid Allana is on the prowl looking for a bloody snack and a sexy energy boost. While strutting her stuff in a dark parking lot she encounters a yummy Latino who makes a lovely meal. She also encounters something else that puts her senses into overdrive. Complete Circle Lissette is a vampire who has lived with her succubus girlfriend, Cassandra, for a long time. She swore off relationships with men after being viciously raped by the vampire hunters who killed the love of her life and left her for dead. Lissette and Cassandra only use men to get what they need, blood for Lissette and sexual energy for Cassandra. They are completely satisfied with their lives- until a mysterious stranger comes along. For the first time in centuries Lissette wants a man. Why is she so drawn to him? What is he?
Much more than a mere mortal, Gabriel has been searching for Lissette and Cassandra for a very long time. They have what he needs, what no one else can give him. But will they be willing to share? Contains f/m/f, f/f , and f/m/m scenes A Package Deal Chloe needs to get out of the city- fast. So she buys an old farmhouse out in the middle of nowhere- with one stipulation. The caretaker gets to stay. She readily agrees thinking it’s an old man that won’t give her any trouble. Ash is definitely not what she expected. My Demon Valentine Elita wants to give her demon boyfriend a Valentine’s Day to remember. Connor was built for giving pleasure but Elita wants to turn the tables on that. This time the pleasure will be all his. Cover Models: Victoria Nightshade and Sugar Monroe Cover Photo By RSII Photography Book Cover Design by Dawne Dominique About the Author: Story strumpet, tome loving tart, eccentric night owl...these words describe book publicist and erotic romance author Roxanne Rhoads. When not fulfilling one the many roles being a wife and mother of three require, Roxanne's world revolves around words...reading them, writing them, editing them, and talking about them. In addition to writing her own stories she loves to read, promote and review what others write. Roxanne is the owner of Bewitching Book Tours and operates Fang-tastic Books, a book blog dedicated to paranormal and urban fantasy books. When not reading, writing, or promoting Roxanne loves to hang out with her family, craft, garden and search for unique vintage finds. Visit her online Author Website http://www.roxannerhoads.com Book Blog www.fang-tasticbooks.blogspot.com Bewitching Book Tours www.bewitchingbooktours.com Facebook www.facebook.com/RoxanneRhoads http://www.facebook.com/BewitchingBooktours http://www.facebook.com/RoxanneRhoadsAuthor http://www.facebook.com/FangtasticBooks Twitter @RoxanneRhoads
Tasting Cherry ~ I grabbed Cherry by the arms and pulled her close. I hadn’t suspected those details. Honestly. I thought back again to my first time with Denise. She spent hours gently nudging me from the awkward, nervous nipple sucker to a skilled clit-manipulator, G-spot hunter, and dick-dunker. Still wrapped in my arms, I led Cherry to the kitchen table. “You probably feel ashamed, right?” She nodded. “Embarrassed, too, huh?” She nodded and sniffled. “My mom didn’t talk to me for days. I wanted her to understand I was just curious, you know. I’ve been this goody-two-shoes girl all my life. I mean, it was just a cucumber. Then I thought, you know, some guys have their first time with professionals. Why can’t I? I just want to know…to feel…be filled…” Her breath hitched and she shook within my hold. So close in each other’s space, I breathed in her heady scent of fresh berries. Something else teased my nose; a light sweet vanilla that damn near made my mouth water. I wedged my finger under her chin and tilted her face to mine. I looked into those pools of green innocence as they stared back at me, pleading with me to take the ignorance away, to turn the curiosity into fulfillment. Refusing wasn’t even an option. Every part of me amped up to… Blow. Her. Fucking. Mind. Leaning forward, I grazed my lips across hers, whispering, “Don’t ever be ashamed or embarrassed by your sexuality.” I cupped a hand to the back her neck, feeling shivers trail through her as I nibbled her ear and whispered again. “Mr. Baltimore’s going to take it all away, Cherry-baby.” She sucked a breath through her teeth. “Please…take it…please…” A View to Ecstasy ~ “Do you need to stop?” I asked. “Hell no, Baltimore,” Marie answered. Sugary-sweet Snickerdoodle breath filled the space between us. “I can still move. I’m not done until you both break me in two.” A lust-filled grin kissed her lips. She flicked her tongue at me. I flipped her around so she faced her husband. Her nipples jutted firm, dark and delicious like chocolate chunks, body ready for another rough fuck. I tore the condom wrapping with my teeth, pushing the latex free from the bottom of the package. With one-handed-experience, I rolled my helmet on, gripped Marie by the hips, and held her high above my cock. After one good bounce on the bed, I was thrusting upward into her leaking entrance. She tossed her head back in ecstasy, pleading for me to fuck her harder.
Retreat Bound ~ “You’re late, Mallory.” His voice, so beautiful to my ears in that just-above-a-baritone kind of vibe, signaled disappointment. I caught his gaze then cast my look downward. His smoky dark eyes were lust-filled and held a glint of mischief. “I’m sorry, Sir. It won’t happen again.” I watched his shadow wave in dismissal of my words. “It will. You have certain obligations.” He paused, his voice husky as he spoke again. “But you know what this means.” My nipples hardened and ached in anticipation. The first few times he’d practiced punishing me at my place, it went so well a couple of the neighbors thought something bad was happening. They had no clue my screams of pain were expressions of blissed out pleasure. Unlike my last Dom, Master Baltimore didn’t like the ball gag. He said it took away the music; that hearing me vocalize the joy and pain he brought me was kin to Mozart hearing his masterpieces conducted and played to perfection. So he turned one of the empty retreat rooms into his very own playground. I’ve been coming and cumming ever since. “To me,” he commanded. I glanced back at him, stuck in place by the need seething in his eyes. The hunger… Bound to Collide ~ Warm fingers splayed upon my back, pressed firm, crushing me to his chest with reckless abandon. His strong arms held me so close I dared not do more than grasp a hold of him and cling for dear life. We shuffle-kissed to the bottom of the stairs. We’d barely made it up to the single curve in the stairs, before he broke the kiss, huffing out, “I can’t.” “Can’t what?” My breasts swelled in his presence. My nipples ached for his touch. I needed the full length of him drilling into the depths of my pussy. What was with the ‘can’t’? A glint shone in his eyes. I should’ve known better than to question him. “I can’t wait,” he growled. He peeled my slacks and panties off in one fell swoop. The clothes pooled in a heap at the foot of the stairs.
Confessions of a Sex Fiend Series Boxed Set Rayven Godchild Book Description: On the path to earning his degree in mechanical engineering, Chancellor Baltimore, geek-extraordinaire, experiences a detour of a lifetime. He discovers his inner sex fiend and an incurable yearning to be the fantasy, bring the pain, and ensure unbridled pleasure for his clients. But even he experiences a bump in the road. In Tasting Cherry, everyone has a first time. In A View to Ecstasy, it’s so much more fun when there’s more than two in the tango. In Retreat Bound, there’s pleasure in the pain. And in Bound to Collide, Chancellor experiences a collision course that is inevitable. Let’s enjoy these tales of a sex fiend as Chancellor continues to break the rule that what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. Shhhhh! Don’t tell anyone. They will be our little secrets… About the Author: Rayven Godchild is an author of erotica/erotic romance short stories, novels and novellas. Her first published work appeared in a fit of obscurity during a tumultuous time in life. That story, Secret Lilies, will see the light of day again with a lot less stress and a lot more joy surrounding its republication in the very near future. Currently, the Confessions of a Sex Fiend short stories are working their way out into the world, with the first one, Tasting Cherry, as Rayven’s re-debut as an author. A View to Ecstasy and Retreat Bound are available. Bound to Collide is the final confession, but certainly not the last the world will hear from Chancellor Baltimore. Here are some places you can find Rayven: Twitter | Facebook | Enjoying the Fall Down the Rabbit Hole
Interview with Sam I was invited to Sam's house for a daytime pool party followed by an evening play party in their new dungeon. She suggested I come early for our interview, and we decided to swim while we talked. I recorded the conversation, so I wouldn’t have to worry about taking notes. “Where’s Ethan? I figured he’d be underfoot while we talked.” “He’ll be here later,” she said, rolling her eyes. “He insists on not moving in until the wedding.” “Ah, that’s right, but it’s only a month away so it won’t be long until he’s here full time. Are you nervous?” “Not about the wedding, or him moving in, but the honeymoon? Equal parts terrified and excited.” I smiled. “Yeah, but the fear’s kind of like the icing on the cake, isn’t it? Makes it that much richer?” Her smile told me she agreed, and I continued. “How’s the training going? Will you be ready?” “The training is…” She blushed and gave a nervous laugh. “Uncomfortable. There are these interim deadlines, with amazing rewards when I meet them, and a session with the stainless cane when I don’t. I’ve met them all but one so far, and don’t intend to miss another.” “Ouch, I bet. You know I have some specific questions to ask, too. Shall we get some of them out of the way? We’ll start with an easy one. What’s your favorite ice cream?” “MMmmm. Mint chocolate chip. Even better if it has chocolate topping — you know, the stuff that goes on liquid and then hardens? Yummm.” “What does Ethan do that’s most annoying?” She bared her teeth in obvious frustration. “The man organizes the freakin' dishwasher! The plates have a special place, each type of glass has its own section, the big spoons have their division, little spoons in another.” I couldn't help but smile at her affectionate exasperation as she threw her arms up and continued. “What difference does it make where they are? I make sure the plastic stuff goes on top, but other than that, I just stick it in and turn it on. He tried to explain how you can get more in his way, and doing it my way we’ll have to wash twenty percent more often.” She swam a few strokes closer to me, smiling. “My compromise was to just make the dishes his job from here
on out. Oddly enough, he’s okay with that. So, maybe it’s not such an annoying trait after all, if it means I never have to clean the kitchen again.” “That’s right, the two of you are 24/7, but only when it comes to sex, so he can’t insist you do it his way.” “Yeah. He can demand anything sexual at any time, as long as it doesn’t interfere with work. While we’re having sex or in a scene I have to follow instructions and obey the rules, but once the scene and aftercare are over, so is the power exchange — and dishwashers have nothing to do with sex.” “Can’t argue with that. Speaking of sex, what’s Ethan’s best sexual talent?” “Well, his mouth is pretty amazing, but his best talent is his ability to give me what I need, with no apologies. He can manhandle me into bondage, and can even have his way with me without using restraints. No matter how hard – or how smart – I fight, he can take me. I’d never found someone into kink who could handle me before, and it’s something I needed before I could submit all of myself – body and mind. But, best of all, once he’s got me where he wants, he’s not afraid to deliver the kind of pain I need. I have no problems with his sadistic streak, but sometimes his dominance is hard for me to deal with. I’ve never faced the kinds of expectations for my submission he demands, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. If it were easy, I’d probably get bored with it eventually, and I don’t see that happening. He’s more than earned my submission, and I appreciate a challenge.” “What do you most fear?” “Umm, my honeymoon?” She laughed. “No, not really, but I have to admit it’s pretty much front and center in my thoughts these days. Hmmm, hang on, let me think about it a minute.” She dove under water, swam the length of the pool, freestyled back, and swiped the water from her face before answering. “I think my top two fears are pretty close to a tie. I fear something happening to Ethan, of course, but he’s so big and strong and healthy, it doesn’t seem likely, you know? It’s up there, but hard to put in first place, since my brain refuses to seriously consider it. I’m terrified of the possibility of losing my independence, though. Seven or eight years ago, my spinal cord was irritated during a fight, and I lost the use of my arms and legs for a few hours. Once the doctors got the swelling down I could move everything again, but it was terrifying. I need to fight, run, bike, hike. My identity is built around being able to take care of myself.” “Yes, but I know how strong your willpower is. You’d deal with it, and find a way to make the best of it once you got over being pissed. How does Ethan handle your independence? Do the two of you clash over him wanting to keep you safe?” “Not often. He respects the fact I can take care of myself, and most of the time, lets me. I have a case right now, a battered wife leaving a jerk of a man. She’s staying somewhere secret, and he tried to intimidate me into telling him where she’s living. When threats didn't work, and I obviously wasn't scared of him, the jerk took a swing at me and I put him on the ground.” Her face lit up, a happy smile with a touch of sadism. “And held him there until police arrived.” She shrugged. “Turned out okay. I barely had a bruise on my forehead, and the idiot slam-dunked my case, since there were witnesses. Ethan’s not at all happy about the situation, but he’s letting me handle it my way — through the police and courts.” “Wow, I imagine Ethan’s chomping at the bit, though. If it weren't work related, do you think he’d stay in the
background?” “I’m not sure, actually. I don’t think he’d beat him up, but I believe he’d insist on having a conversation with him. Ethan can be pretty intimidating when he’s not trying. When he makes an effort to be scary?” She shuddered. “Even when we’re playing around, and I know he won’t hurt me beyond my capacity to handle it, my insides quake with fear when he goes into super-sadist mode.” A deep male voice startled me. “Nice to know I have that effect on you, Samantha darling.” Sam’s head snapped around and a smile lit her face. “It’s no secret you’re scary when you want to be, but I know you’re really just a big teddy bear.” Already in swim trunks, he walked down the steps into the water and pulled her to him. He gave her a quick kiss and looked my direction. “I assume it’s okay for me to be here for the rest of the interview?” “Of course, I was just about to ask the last two questions,” I said, turning to Sam as I tried not to ogle her fiancé’s muscles. “If your life were a book, what would you prefer the author not tell readers about you?” “Oh, that’s easy. I wouldn’t want anyone outside the scene to know I’m submissive. Vanillas have this crazy idea that submitting to someone means you’re weak. Drives me crazy.” “Yeah, that's one of my pet peeves, too. Final question: Before you met Ethan, your goal was to develop a relationship with enough trust to give up your safeword. I know you and Ethan have been at odds on the subject, and the wedding is only a month away. Have the two of you resolved this, yet?” Ethan growled under his breath, and Sam rolled her eyes. Ouch, maybe I should have asked before Ethan arrived. “I’m ready to give it up,” Sam said, “but the big lug behind me won’t agree to it. He says if I don’t want to safeword, I shouldn't’ say it.” She pulled out of his arms and swam closer to me. “He’s being deliberately obtuse, and refuses to understand I don’t want to have it available. At all.” He grinned at her, affection and mischief lighting his eyes. “Oh, I get it, but I won’t agree to it until I can be sure I’m up for the responsibility.” Switching his focus to me, he said, “Aren’t you missing someone? You’re staying for the party, right?” “Wouldn’t miss it for the world. His Highness was drafted into taking our youngest to rehearsal this morning. He'll drop her off at his mom’s when it’s over and should be here shortly after everyone else. Are Tyler and Viv still coming?” Sam answered from the diving board. “Yes, and Dana’s coming, too. She pulled away from all of us after Garnet died, but Kirsten told me if I invited her and made it clear she could bring guests — plural — that she’d probably come. She’s bringing three men with her, can you imagine?” I smiled. “Oh yeah, I can imagine.”
Safeword: Matte – In Training Safeword Series Number 7 Candace Blevins Genre: BDSM Romance Publisher: Excessica Date of Publication: June 20, 2014 ISBN: Not yet available ASIN: Not yet available Number of pages: 202 pages Word Count: 78,000 words Cover Artist: Tara West Book Description: The wedding is four months away, and Ethan has promised to train Sam to handle a planned honeymoon activity. He’s calculated the math to figure out her goals each week. When she reaches the weekly target she gets a massage and lots of fun orgasms. But if she doesn’t, it’s the stainless steel cane. All this along with navigating her clients’ drama, planning a wedding, dealing with her mother while planning the wedding, and having lots and lots of wild and kinky sex. And we haven’t even mentioned the bachelorette party. Warning: This title contains graphic language, consensual BDSM some may find objectionable, anal sex, bondage, and the use of toys including crops, clips, clamps, plugs, and gags.
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About the Author: Candace Blevins is a southern girl who loves to travel the world. She lives with her husband of 16 years and their two daughters. When not working or driving kids all over the place she can be found reading, writing, meditating, or swimming. Candace writes romance books about strong women who happen to be submissive, and in some cases have some pretty extreme kinks. Relationships can be difficult enough without throwing power exchange into the mix, and her books show characters who care enough about each other to fight to make the relationship work. You can visit her on the web at candaceblevins.com, and feel free to friend her on Facebook at facebook.com/ candacesblevins, and Goodreads at goodreads.com/CandaceBlevins. www.candaceblevins.com www.facebook.com/candacesblevins
Excerpt: “So, how did You enjoy Your time in Dubai, youngster?” Under normal circumstances, a phone call at 7:00 a.m. wouldn’t have bothered me, but coming home and suffering serious jet lag from the near fifteen-hour flight made this phone call something of a cruel joke Amenhotep was playing on me. With the way I felt, I was in desperate need of a vacation from our vacation. We’d spent nearly a week in paradise, one of the most unique and luxurious locales on the planet while celebrating His and paka’s nuptials, and here He was sounding bright-eyed and bushy-tailed like the flight time never had one ounce of an effect on Him. I looked at the phone, trying my best to match His energy, realizing quickly that I wouldn’t come close to meeting Him halfway. “Dubai was wonderful, and that’s putting it mildly, Sir,” I replied. My voice sounded like I’d gargled with broken glass. “I feel so drained right now. If I were working for someone else, I would be calling in sick. Why are You calling so early in the morning anyway, Sir? Is something wrong?” “Well, to answer Your question, we have business to take care of, kid.” He sounded as serious as a heart attack as His voice carried through the air waves and into my ears. “Oh, and You are working for someone else…You’re working for Me, now.” His trademark chuckle made me want to vomit. He couldn’t be serious about trying to get back to business now, could He? “Come on, Sir? Give Me twenty-four hours to recover, veg out on the couch and enjoy the children, anything other than working the next morning after we’d gotten off the plane?” I hated sounding like a freaking teenager trying to beg his father for more time to be lazy, but I really needed some time to be lazy. Neferterri was soundly sleeping next to me, completely oblivious to the conversation I was having with Him. Why in the hell did I have to be a light sleeper? The laughter over the phone after I made my plea gave me the distinct impression that my request would not be honored. “See, that’s the problem with you young folks. By now, I would have taken care of the things that we need to take care of before lunch. Are You getting soft on Me already, youngster?” I sat up after hearing that question. “Not by a long shot, old man, but I have to wonder how in the world You’re able to be so fucking hyper when You took the same flight we took to get back home?” “Clean living, You should try it sometime.” His voice never lost its energy. Slowly and surely, it began to breathe life into me, providing the necessary adrenaline rush to lift from the bed and shuffle into the bathroom to begin freshening up. “In order to be great, You have to leave Your mark. Are You ready to leave Your mark, Ramesses?” He appealed to my ego with that question. He knew full well I was ready to leave my mark,
and I was ready to do it in a big way. I had been plotting and planning ever since the conversation we had in Dubai one night, when everything was set in motion: “I’m ready to do this, Sir. The shock has worn off. It’s My time, now.” “Is that right, Ramesses? Do You think You’re ready to take things tothe next level?” “I wouldn’t be here talking with You if I wasn’t ready to take things to the next level. The question is, are You ready for what the next level is?” “Youngster, I’ve been waiting for You for the past few years to figure out when You were ready. I have the means for You to do what needs to be done, and You have the energy and drive to make it all happen. The way I see it, it’s a win-win proposition for everyone involved.” “So, why are we here talking when we can be laying the groundwork so I can hit the ground running when we get back? You know the expansion plans I’ve wanted to execute for some time now.” “The answer to Your question comes with its own question, Ramesses. The plans for the Palace are only the tip of the iceberg. There’s something else I need You to do for Me. This is big, probably bigger than any plans You might have for the Palace.” “I haven’t refused You before, what makes You think I’m backing down from this request?” “The request I am making of You, Sir, will require You to do something that I don’t know if You’re going to be willing to do.” “Stop speaking in riddles and get to the point, Sir. You know I don’t do the cloak-and-dagger nonsense. Spit it out.” “In order for You to accomplish the expansion plans that You have in mind, You’re going to have to have two individuals to help with those plans. They haven’t spoken to each other in nearly a decade, and despite My efforts, they have yet to reach an accord. Where I have failed, perhaps You might succeed. It’s the only way Your ultimate plans will come to fruition.” “If it’s the two people that I think You’re talking about, Sir, I might as well scrap the plans now.” “Don’t be so quick to scrap what has been laid out for You, Ramesses. You and I both know things happen for a reason.” “I’m dying to know what the reason is for this one.” “Only time will tell, My old friend…only time will tell.” “You haven’t answered My question, kid,” Amenhotep’s voice sliced through my thoughts. “Are You ready to leave Your mark?” What He asked for was the impossible. A decade of noncommunication and animosity, and I was supposed to diffuse that in the course of months? If He couldn’t do it, what made Him think I would be able to do it? Yes, I have an ego bigger than the great state of Texas, but even I have my limitations. On the one hand, what He was asking for was next to impossible, but on the other hand, if I had the right leverage, I might have the ability to do something my Mentor wasn’t able to do. The end game was too seductive to resist. “I’m ready, Sir,” I answered. “And I already have a plan in mind.” Legacy Chronicles of the Nubian Underworld Book Two Shakir Rashaan Genre: BDSM Erotic Romance Publisher: Strebor Books/Atria Books (A Division of Simon & Schuster)
Date of Publication: June 10, 2014 ISBN: 9781593095468 ASIN: B00GEEB58M Number of pages: 272 Word Count: 67,000+ Cover Artist: Keith Saunders, Marion Designs Book Description: A tale unlike anything else, this second episode in the Chronicles of the Nubian Underworld series continues the erotically charged journey inside Atlanta's African-American Fetish/BDSM community. "In order to be great, you have to leave your mark. Are you ready to leave your mark?" After returning from Dubai, a power shift occurs within the Atlanta Fetish community as the "torch" is passed on from Amenhotep to Ramesses and Neferterri. The Palace is being transformed in Ramesses' image, and the new "power couple" is adjusting to life in the spotlight and the benefits -and headaches -- that come with it. But as Ramesses puts the finishing touches on establishing the balance of power, Amenhotep has tasked him with a daunting undertaking -- one that will test his will and re-forge a bond that was once broken, cementing his legacy within the sacred "society." Exotic, decadent, and written by a true insider, Legacy takes you deeper into the Atlanta Fetish/ BDSM community, twisting more surprises and revelations that are sure to take your breath away. Amazon
BN Books a Million
Personal Autographed Copy
About the Author: Shakir Rashaan currently lives in suburban Atlanta with his wife and two children. Rashaan's catalog includes the series Chronicles of the Nubian Underworld and the upcoming Kink, P.I., and current projects being developed under the pen name Curtis Alexander Hamilton. Other credits include several anthologies, including the bestselling Zane Presents ZRated: Chocolate Flava 3. You can see more of Rashaan at ShakirRashaan.com.
Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/shakirrashaan Web: http://www.shakirrashaan.com Blog: http://medium.com/@ShakirRashaan Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/ ShakirRashaanErotica
With the flip of his wrist he brought the first strike down on the alabaster skin of her back. The leather made a soft thudding sound as it made contact with her flesh. She flinched, but otherwise seemed intact. He let fly another stroke of the whip. And another until he developed a pattern that ran from her buttocks up her torso, up one side then down the other. The smell of leather wafted through the air as he pulled his arm back to prepare for the next blow, and the welcome sound of pleasure rose from her lips. “You like that, babygirl?” he crooned. “I do. It doesn’t really hurt. More like a little sting, but it feels good.” “That’s it, baby. Go with it.” “Yes, Sir.” He raked the tails across her backside until her skin began to pinken. At that point he set the flogger down and stood behind her. “Now back up a step and lean over and grab your ankles.” This flustered her. “What?” she asked, clearly stalling. “I’m going to inspect you.” “For what?” she asked leaning over hesitantly. “My pleasure.” “I’m not sure I can grab my ankles. I’m not very flexible.” “Hmm. You might want to work on some daily stretches then. But for now grab your legs as low as you can go.” “Yes, Sir,” she said and grabbed her lower calves. He cupped her sex with his hand, and he could feel the heat coming from her most intimate region. Smacking her pussy a few times elicited a small cry from Carmen, and he could tell it was the first time anyone had ever done that to her. Breaking in a virgin to BDSM was an intoxicating experience. No one would need drugs or alcohol when an experience like this was available. He caressed her ass, her warm globes feeling heavenly under his touch. When he spread her cheeks to inspect her asshole, her whole body tensed. “Relax,” he said. “That’s easy for you to say,” she muttered. He laughed. “The point is for you to trust me, become comfortable with me exploring your body.” “It’s embarrassing,” she whined. “It shouldn’t be. I want your body to belong to me. Everything about it is beautiful. Allow me to enjoy it. Do you think you can do that?” “I guess so.” “Did you mean to say ‘Yes, Sir’?” he prodded. “Yes, Sir,” she said sounding like a chastised schoolgirl.
“That’s more like it,” he said spanking her ass before wetting his thumb between his lips then slowly inserting it into her rear entry. She flinched, but remained silent. “Good girl. Relax and it will start to feel good.” He found her lips with his other fingers and worked them in and out of the complex womanly folds between her legs. Dipping in and out of her ass and her pussy at the same time had begun to arouse her. Her hips shifted slightly to meet his attentions and she coated his hand with her sweet nectar. “Be still,” he commanded and he felt her struggle to control the urge to ride his hand. His middle finger sought the center of her lust, and he flicked back and forth over her clit until he felt her muscles tightening more and more. Just when she was about to tumble over the edge he withdrew. “Stand up.” She obeyed, her legs wobbly. “Turn and face me.” She whirled around and he saw the confused look in her eye. The look that said, why? With the pitifulness of a baby harp seal, she looked up at him. “Daddy, I was about to come. Why did you stop?” His big Dom heart almost stopped. She was too adorable, too perfect for him. How could he deny her? Clearing his throat he said, “Because your orgasms are mine. I tell you when you can come and sometimes you will have to wait until I give you permission.”
Daddy’s Game Daddy’s Girl Series Book Two Normandie Alleman Genre: Contemporary BDSM Erotic Romance Publisher: Stormy Night Publication Word Count: 62,000
Book Description: Football and kink collide when the game’s biggest star convinces a beautiful artist to play Daddy’s Game. Sparks fly when up-and-coming artist Carmen Harris meets football star Natron Dakers at her first gallery opening. Carmen soon discovers that Natron is the type of man who sees what he wants and goes after it… and apparently what he wants is her. Almost before she knows it Carmen finds herself taking everything Natron gives her and begging for more, and when he reveals that he wants to be her dominant daddy and her to be his submissive little girl, she doesn’t hesitate to agree. At the top of his profession, Natron has money, fame, and all the perks that go with them, and now at last in Carmen he has found a woman he wants to share it with. His life feels complete…
until in a split second everything comes crashing down when a devastating injury threatens to end his season—and maybe his career. Natron fears he will lose it all, but will he self-destruct or can he dig deep and fight hard for himself, his teammates, and his little girl? Publisher’s Note: Daddy’s Game is the second book in the Daddy’s Girl series. It incorporates characters from the first book in the series, Daddy Morebucks, but it is a stand-alone novel. The content of Daddy’s Game includes spankings, graphic sexual scenes, elements of age play and BDSM, and more. If such material offends you, please don’t buy this book.
Available at Amazon Amazon UK
BN ARe Kobo
About the Author: A former psychologist, Normandie has always been fascinated by human behavior. She loves writing quirky characters that are all too human. Fiber arts, baking, and Pinterest are a few of her favorite pastimes. She lives on a farm with a passel of children, hunky husband, and a pet pig who’s crazy for Red Bull. Twitter at https://twitter.com/NormandieA Pinterest at http://pinterest.com/NormandieA Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/NormandieAlleman
Amazon Author Page: http://www.amazon.com/Normandie-Alleman/e/B00BNUDVFW