Saturday, May 31, 2014

“Enjoy a morbidly assortment of heartache, tears, and sadness …immediately felt connected … flow is beautiful … this book is what perfection really is!” - Toni L.
The world sundered and the demons arose, warring against those neither God nor Satan had wanted.

Korrigan trained most of her life as a courtesan, submitting to the will of men.

Petre searched for the perfect woman to break his immortal curse.

Sold to Petre in Arcadia, Korrigan stumbled through her journey of love, treachery, and forgiveness. Secrets and lies whispered in the dark recesses of her mind as her past haunted her dreams.
What if all her master taught her proved to be wrong? As the weight of her new world compounded on her shoulders, slave and master hatched a plan to liberate the brothel and tear down the walls.
Beyond the Brothel Walls Saga #1
Lust ruled the demons. Seven signs have come and gone. Sloth ruled the vampires. Seven angels fell to the Earth. Envy ruled the courtesans. Seven Keys lay hidden amongst the Seven Angels. Gluttony ruled the rich. Seven families rose and fell. Wrath ruled the Horsemen. One family would bring the world to its knees. Pride ruled the Morning Star. The Horsemen must seize the keys. Greed ruled the world.

Author Bio
Rae Z. Ryans is a member of the RWA and RWA Fantasy, Futuristic, and Paranormal chapter. She currently resides in Alabama with her family. Published since the age of fourteen, Rae enjoys writing romantic, erotic, fantasy/paranormal stories and poetry. Her name pays homage to her brothers: Specialist Ryan D. Rexon and Zachary U. Berthot.
She is currently working on Beyond the Brothel Walls #2: Altered. This post-apocalyptic, erotic paranormal romance is emotionally driven, dark fantasy.


Human life held value. A virgin body attracted more wealth than a used up hag. What my master had paid for mine, I hadn’t known. I’d been born of unfortunate circumstance and abandoned as an infant. Like most women in the rebuilt world, I’d existed as a slave to men. Slaves never voiced opinions if they’d wished to live. Without an owner, I’d wilt away or fall to the harsh conditions of the broken world.
At eighteen and on my birthday, all I’d celebrated was my new sale. With a single suitcase grasped in my hand, I’d boarded the steam engine, and departed Delphia for the first time in my life. My destination, over ten hours from the Hampshire House of the Lady, lay in one of the three surviving countries of the Sundering. Arcadia was where my new owner lived. Hard to believe it an improvement of my situation, but rather a woman belonged to a single man than those visiting the brothel.
“Ticket miss?” the man interrupted my daydreaming thoughts as the door to my compartment skidded open. I fished into the pocket of my used pea coat and handed him the crumpled documents. He whistled low as his eyes raked over me. My skin crawled with a hundred bugs, and my stomach lurched from the sudden jostle of the train.
“Business or pleasure?” He accentuated the pleasure. I thanked the dim lights and hid my blush in the shadows. His hand punched my ticket, and he marked something on his clipboard. But those eyes kept rolling over me, and his tongue grazed his teeth.
We slowed down, and my legs itched to run for it as the steam driven lights dimmed inside my train car. Vehicles, small ships, and some older trains operated on the steam systems, but the tracks were older and worn from the icy elements. Steam remained cheap; trash was by far the cheapest. That much I’d understood from the overheard newscasts and conversations. I shifted in my seat as the train pulled to a screeching stop on the platform. Fancy women and groomed men waited their turn as the passengers departed.
“Business.” I forced a smile and met his glassy stare.
Women were different now; I guessed but I had no notions of the real world beyond stolen moments of television. Even then, I hadn’t followed much of what they’d explained. New laws had passed, revoking old rules where men couldn’t own humans, let alone women as property. Females once established within the governments had found themselves forced from their positions. Even soldiers and officers found themselves without jobs, and they became instant scapegoats. God spoke; the man on the television had believed and blamed the rise of feminine power for the Sundering. Free men had believed the wild banter as the upper class citizens sought a reason. There lived a rationale for everything in life, and every wicked deed they had viewed as a punishment. To me it was a bunch of hogwash, but it had remained the truth.
“Awful long way to travel for a young miss such as yourself.” His eyes said what his lips hadn’t. I was alone and a slave. At least the tinted talc hid the marks in my hair, turning the twisted mass into a pale lilac shade. Wanton men took a glance and knew what services I offered. Usually, I wore two thick swatches of purple streaked through my dark hair. The unmistakable sign had announced to others that I remained pure –a prize among the men but a whopping, fat lie. Nothing about me was wholesome anymore, and everyone I passed knew it too.
Sure, to him I was young –small enough to pass for a child- bundled in my coat, but I’d forgotten about the uniform. Even hidden beneath the wool, my corset squeezed against my boney ribs and dug deeper into my already marred flesh. Years of training allowed me to block the pain, but I wasn’t used to the stares of strange men.
At the house, men knew better than to touch me when Jules was there. My body had belonged to him, and he remained their boss, but I couldn’t rely on him any longer. Instinct kicked in, and I moved away from the man, placing my body against the wall of my compartment. I shivered, but there wasn’t even a hairline gap between the metal barrier and me. He stepped forward, not bothering to close the door, and my heartbeat quickened. My lungs burned as he approached, and the scent of his aftershave nauseated my stomach.

“Excuse me,” a deep, accented voice called from the train car’s hallway. 

 Hope to see you all there!!

Brought to you by the Release Day Diva


Monday, May 19, 2014

Title: Immortal Rapture
Series: Immortal Heart
Author: Magen McMinimy
Release Date: May 22, 2014
While the Fae warriors help their people mourn the loss of Rowan, they struggle to survive the harsh, frozen lands they call home. The snow has blanketed the Middle World, leaving it a dormant wasteland. Still struggling from both the physical and emotional losses he’s suffered, Uriah, the solid, elite Light Fae warrior, has withdrawn from his brothers as he searches for answers. Uriah must find his strength before the Dark strike again.
Jelena has spent the past ten months as a prisoner. Having given birth to Uriah’s baby in her brothers’ domain, she knows the Underworld is no place to raise a child. Looking to Makyle for help, she may just give him what he needs to question all he has ever known.
Curses, secrets and the Dark Fae all loom in the fourth installment of the Immortal
Heart Series. Follow your favorite warriors as they fight to save what is left of their home, the people they love, and the new additions they never saw coming.
Add Immortal Rapture to your TBR!
Haven't started the Immortal Heart Series? Need to get caught up before Uriah's story? Well Immortal Blood: Book One is FREE!
Immortal Blood: An arrogant warrior and feisty human are forced together by a mischievous Luck Eater. Can Bain and Izzy find what has always been missing?
Immortal Craving: Sparks still fly when a bad boy warrior and a sexy Succubus come together, but can the past be forgiven, when betrayal, lies, and pain is all they’ve felt because of it?
Immortal Promise: The warrior who holds them all together and a royal Fae turned vampire fight to find home and save the Middle World. Will it bring them together or does fate have something altogether different in mind?
Amazon UK:

Wednesday, May 14, 2014

Title: Turning Home
Author: Stephanie Nelson
Genre: New Adult
Tour Host: Lady Amber's Tours

Book description:
When Brooke Kingsley finally captures the interest of her four-year crush—Dylan Crawford—her world turns upside down. Feeling alive for the first time, Brooke decides to spend her last three days of summer with Dylan and discovers there’s more to him than the rumors being whispered all over town. The problem is, Brooke’s father doesn’t want his daughter anywhere near the blue-collar bad boy. As Brooke leaves for college, she’ll realize that some boys aren’t easy to forget.

Dylan Crawford has hated the Roseville Snobs his entire life, but one particular Snob has captured his eye—Brooke Kingsley. He knows he should stay away from her, but willpower has never been his strong suit. Soon Brooke is all he can think about. When she leaves for school, Dylan tries to move on with other girls, but the memory of Brooke taunts him. There’s an undeniable pull to the very girl he’s been warned to stay away from.

When tragedy strikes the Kingsley household, secrets are uncovered. Brooke and Dylan must decide if what they feel for each other is strong enough to conquer their families’ dark past.

 Book Trailer

Author Bio:
You guys may be surprised to learn that I am the most boring person you’ll ever meet. The most interesting thing about me is that I write books, most of the time in my pajamas and jacked up on caffeine.
I began writing six years ago for fun and published my first book in 2012. Since then, my hobby has become my job and I love every second of it.
I live in Illinois, in the country where I’m surrounded by corn and soybean fields. When I manage to escape my office, I enjoy fishing, spending time with my family and playing Super Mario Bros. and Donkey Kong. Yes, I’m a huge video game nerd.

Author links: 
Twitter: @stephnel1

Buying Links:


Excerpt 1 (from Dylan Crawford’s POV)

It was funny how time dragged on and on when you were waiting for something. The months Brooke had been gone had felt like years. Each day crawled by so slowly that sometimes I thought I’d go out of my mind with madness. I went to work, came home. I went out with Jase, drank, and hooked up with girls now and then, only to come home to the bed that still held the memory of Brooke. Even the bed of my truck was soaked with her memory.
I’d lived these past months in a haze of monotonous routines and numbness. So many times I wished I’d approached her sooner, had the balls to claim what I wanted and not worry if her parents thought I was good enough. After a while, I grew bitter the longer her face haunted me. No girl had ever held power over me. No girl had ever gotten under my skin so quickly. I couldn’t begin to explain the connection I had to Brooke, but after analyzing every small detail, I settled on the fact that some things weren’t meant to be understood. Not everything needed a logical explanation to make it real. I knew, without a doubt, my feelings were just as real as the beating of my heart.
The front door slowly opened, and I lifted my eyes to find … Mr. Kingsley. I hadn’t been expecting him to be home. His car wasn’t in the driveway. A scowl instantly marred his face, his eyebrows drawing together as he glared at me.
“You’re that Crawford boy.” It wasn’t a question.
“Yes, sir, I am,” I said politely. “I heard about your wife and wanted to stop by to see if Brooke was okay.”
“What business is it of yours how my daughter is doing?”
What was I supposed to say to that? We stared at each other for a long moment and, as the silence built, I saw the furious revelation light his eyes. It wasn’t a secret the type of man I was. Everyone in town knew I was notorious for hopping from bed to bed. Had she been my daughter, I would hate me, too.

Excerpt 2 (from Dylan Crawford’s POV -contains racy content)

I’d lost my virginity when I was fifteen and had been having sex ever since. I wasn’t one of those guys who kept a tally or bragged about who I’d done. To me, sex was always just part of who I was, and that didn’t garner boasting. I was never picky when it came to finding someone to share my bed with, so long as I got off. No matter how beautiful the girl was or how sweetly she hinted at wanting something more, once she showed signs of falling for me, I cut all ties. Some girls got their hearts broken, some—the ones suffering from low self-esteem—came back again and again, convinced they could change me. Never in all my experiences had I associated sex as anything more than a quick high. It satisfied an emptiness I didn’t even know existed.
When those girls looked at me with sappy, googly eyes, my confidence soared. I felt deserving of the admiration. Say what you will, the feeling was addictive. They didn’t care that I didn’t have money, worked as a mechanic, or drove a twelve year old truck. God help them, all they saw when they looked at me was someone they were attracted to. Unfortunately, with women, sex is never just sex. Once they learned all the fantasies swimming through their head sank after I got what I wanted, that awe faded from their eyes. And it was on to the next.
The girl currently on my lap, moving her bare hips against my cock, shattered all of my misconceptions about sex. I knew I had switched places with all those girls who’d looked at me so entranced. Now, I was the one in awe of the girl before me. If karma were a real thing, it would take her away from me and teach me a lesson. I’d admit I deserved it and more. Somehow, Brooke had become everything to me. I hadn’t intentionally planned to settle down or feel the way I felt. I didn’t pretend to know why it happened or even how. I just knew I wouldn’t change it if I could.

Excerpt 3 (from Brooke Kingsley’s POV)

He moved toward me, and I tensed, anxious to see what he would do. I had been talking myself into believing I saw hints of attraction whenever he looked at me, but that was just my obsessed mind playing tricks on me. Dylan messed around with experienced, tough girls, not spoiled, rich girls like me. I wouldn’t know the first thing about being with a boy like him.
“There’s something I’ve been wanting to do since last night,” he said, gripping my waist with both hands. “If you want me to stop, just tell me, but I only have three days with you, and I can’t wait a second longer.”
He slid a hand up, cupped the back of my neck, and brought his mouth to mine. I had only ever kissed James, and those had been sloppy all-over-the-place kisses—too eager. Dylan’s technique was completely different—slower. He nipped at my bottom lip, applying enough pressure that weakened my knees and promised more. I moved my mouth against his, praying he was enjoying the kiss as much as I was. The grip on my waist tightened, tugging me closer to his body. Through my thin shirt, I could feel the ridges that made up his muscular chest. I felt my body slumping against his, yearning to be closer to him.
When his tongue slipped between my lips, a moan—I didn’t know I was capable of—vibrated up my throat. Our tongues tangled while Dylan fisted his fingers in my hair and held me against his body as though he was afraid I would run. He didn’t know that my legs were too weak to take me anywhere.
When he broke away from my mouth, he rested his forehead against mine; our heavy breaths mingled in the space between us. My heart pounded so hard I was sure he could hear it, and the butterflies in my stomach took up residence inside my skull, leaving me dizzy. That was not what kisses were like, at least not in my experience.

Excerpt 4 (from Brooke Kingsley’s POV)

“I’m going to kiss you now,” he breathed, his eyes searching my face.
I bobbed my head, my heartbeat a hopeless flutter in my chest. “Okay.”
The breath of his chuckle landed on my mouth as his lips pressed against mine. My body sagged against his, and I brought my arms up and twined them around his neck. Tilting my head to the side, I moved my mouth against his, moaning when his tongue slipped through my lips. I could spend the rest of my life kissing Dylan Crawford.
Somewhere I thought I heard a cell phone ringing, but I was too lost in the sensations consuming my body.
“You wanna get that?” Dylan spoke against my lips, one side of his mouth lifted in a smirk.
“No,” I whispered.
“It’s probably your mama or daddy,” he said with an arched brow.
I bit my lip to hold back my smile. “You’re probably right, but they’re not going to ruin the last night I have with you. I’ll deal with them later.”
“I see my bad influence is rubbing off on you.”
“Would you rather I answer it so they can tell me to come home on my last night?”
Dylan’s smile flattened, and his eyes searched my face as though he was trying to memorize my every feature. I studied him as well, taking in his bright green eyes, strong jawline and full lips. I could not believe I was in his arms, after daydreaming about him for four years. Everything about our time together seemed surreal, and I knew once I left for school, it would be surreal—a dream from a time in my life where I came alive. My own smile disappeared as I wondered how long it would take him to forget our time together. Come tomorrow night would he be entertaining a new girl, taking her fishing and mud wrestling? It was very hard to remember that he could do whatever he wanted. We were not dating and probably never would. Our time was a fantasy that reality would crush tomorrow.
“Why the pouty face?”
I hadn’t realized I was zoning out, lost in my thoughts. “I’m not pouting.”
Dylan leaned forward and sucked my bottom lip in between his. My eyes wide, my heart thudding in my chest, I suppressed the moan in my throat and the heat it had created between my legs.
“I couldn’t resist,” Dylan said, setting me down. “It was just out there, teasing me with its cuteness.”

Monday, May 12, 2014

Leaving her small town behind, Bethany Casse moves to Chicago in search of a new life. Working at a top financial bank brings her into contact with two men who are as different as night and day. 

Kent Plack, heir to Plack Industries, has no interest in being with a woman for longer than one night. A spoiled and lazy man-whore, he is completely content with his playboy lifestyle, and Beth is surprised when they form an unlikely friendship.

Brian Burcham, a finance banker, is gorgeous and respectful. A man plucked from Beth’s dreams, he is definite husband material. Unfortunately, Beth has a hard rule against dating coworkers, but Brian is determined to change her mind. 

When a deadbeat mother and money problems follow her to Chicago, Beth is offered a solution that could fix everything. Marrying for money seems simple enough, but when lines become blurred, Beth faces difficult choices, making her realize that the easy way out just made her life even harder than before. 

Connect with Mia Kayla:

 Hope to see you all there!!

Brought to you by the Release Day Diva


Saturday, May 10, 2014

For Liberty: A Red Hot and BOOM! Story by Rene Folsom


Book Information

Title – For Liberty
Series – Red Hot and BOOM!
Author – Rene Folsom
Genre – Contemporary Romance
Publication Date – June 1, 2014
Length – Approximately 12,000 words
Cover Artist – Phycel Designs
Goodreads Link –


While deployed overseas, his mission classified, the heartfelt letters Maximus writes are the only bits of communication Liberty receives during the year he is away. Her memories of him, along with a box full of letters, become her most prized possessions—that and the life growing inside her.
It’s not until communication stops, and the scheduled return of her Army hero comes and goes, that Libby begins to freak out. Her worry for his welfare, along with concern over her current situation, wreaks havoc on her once-solid nerves.
While she’s waiting for his return with bated breath, she clings to hope and remembers the words he once wrote: “A soldier doesn't fight because he hates what is in front of him. A soldier fights because he loves what he left behind.” The infamous quote is a constant reminder of why he chooses to fight: For Liberty.
Break out the fireworks and get ready to kick off your summer with this HOT new collection of stories. For Liberty is part of the Red Hot and BOOM multi-author series (stands alone for reading enjoyment).


Volunteering for the local animal shelter, and helping with their holiday fundraisers, was how I chose to spend my birthday that year. The K9 kissing booth was a huge success. All the local pet lovers lined up to pay for smooches with the four-legged fur friends.
When I saw him standing in line, my heart stopped momentarily. Two years older than I was, Maximus Becker was the boy I drooled over during my freshman and sophomore years of high school. Of course, in high school, two years was quite an age gap, and I was a child in his eyes. Other than his occasional visits home, I hadn’t seen him since he’d graduated six years ago and enlisted into the Army.
His round, boyish face was now strong and covered in a dusting of sexy scruff. It was obvious the military kept him in great shape, with his built physique and powerful demeanor. He was no longer the boy I knew in high school. His tall stature and confident stance was nothing short of pure, masculine strength.
Looking back, it seemed a bit petty that I frantically searched for another volunteer to take my post. My job was to collect the money for the kissing booth, and I couldn’t just bail. But I was also sure as shit I’d end up making a fool of myself in front of this gorgeous man who probably still didn’t even know I existed.
Realizing there was no one around to relieve me of this torture, I blew a stray lock of hair out of my eyes with a puff of breath and attempted to put on my best game face—determined to keep my cool. He was next in line.
Smiling kindly at the old lady in front of him, I stuffed her dollar in the money bag and kept my head down, worried my words would stumble if I looked into his eyes. Call me crazy, but those stupid, teenage fluttery feelings took over my stomach at the mere closeness of him. I probably looked weak and scared—words usually never used to describe me.
“Well hello, Libby,” a warm, raspy voice said. The fact he spoke my name actually gave me strength to be the girl I knew was hiding inside me somewhere.
Raising my head and meeting his beautiful, hazel eyes, I smiled. “Max. Haven’t seen you around in a while. How the hell are ya?” I was beyond grateful my voice didn’t crack when his name spilled from my lips.
“Doin’ good. Just moved back to town now that I’m stationed at the base nearby.” His eyes roamed down my body and back up to meet my eyes. “Looks to me like I’ve missed a lot while I was gone.” The smile he so sinfully wore on his face made my insides melt like a tween at a One Direction concert. The fact one man could make me feel that way was both exciting and embarrassing.
And again, I was speechless. Was he paying me a compliment? My brain couldn’t seem to comprehend what was happening, so I just stood there and grinned like a damn fool.
Leaning toward me, he crooked his finger and signaled for me to come closer. My heart was nearly leaping from my chest with the thought of him so near. He smelled good too. I had to rein in all the self-control I could muster in order to keep from blatantly sniffing him.
With his warm breath feathering over my ear, he said, “So, I’m a little embarrassed. I got in this line thinking I was lining up for a kiss with—”
“We don’t have all day,” a crabby woman behind Max said, cutting off his words. If I weren’t representing the animal shelter, I would have told the lady to fuck off.
Smiling kindly, I held out my hand for his donation and said, “You ready to get your mac on with a basset hound?”
Shaking his head comically, he let out a light chuckle and held up a twenty between his fingers. His instruction for me to keep the change startled me a bit. We’d had several people give us an extra dollar or two toward the fundraising efforts, but no one had offered quite so much.
Stepping over to the line of dogs, he looked back in my direction and gave me a wink before allowing Henry to slobber all over his cheek.
I couldn’t contain my laughter as I watched him wipe his face on his sleeve.

Author Bio

Rene Folsom, author of paranormal romance and erotica, lives in Florida with her husband and three kids. She has officially diagnosed herself with creative ADD and often has a million and one writing projects going at once. In addition to writing, she is also a graphic artist who enjoys creating custom book covers for indie authors. She is definitely an artist at heart and would love nothing more than to be elbow deep in clay during her waking hours.
Rene believes that all fiction is based on some form of reality—otherwise we would never have the inspiration or knowledge to dream up the realistic situations we portray with our words. She is proud to say that her personal experiences have been inspirational, though perhaps not always identical to that of her fictional characters. Where reality and fantasy diverge, however, must remain her little secret...

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Wednesday, May 7, 2014

Ever & Always by Anne Carter

Title: Ever & Always
Author: Anne Carter           
Genre: Contemporary RomanceBlitz Host: Lady Amber's Tours
Blurb: "Trust me, Maddie.  I'll be right behind you."
"What if I fall?"
"I can skate faster than you can fall," Jack whispered, and Maddie closed her eyes against the shiver that enveloped her body…
Ice Hockey. Strong coffee. His infant son, Duncan. Three things Jack McKenzie could not do without. Now he was about to add a fourth. Beautiful, green-eyed Madelyn Cross has reappeared in his life with a load of baggage and a history riddled with emotional landmines.
They almost hooked up in high school, but their fathers had different ideas. Now, years later, their paths cross in a beautiful Southern California park. Each has a son, and each has an unhappy past; both share a need for love, passion and devotion. But can Jack solve the mysteries in Maddie's past, overcome the specter of her dead lover and still come out the hero?
(Sex rating is about a 2/5)
Creating fiction gives one the power to design other lives, filled with romance and adventure, intrigue and passion. My own writing career began in middle school creative writing class, inspiring me to later major in literature. All it took was one teacher' encouragement and I was on my way.
I'm the author of seven published novels, including mystery, romance, paranormal, alternative romance and even a pair of middle grade readers. As for the personal stuff, I'm a Virgo, a procrastinator, like warm better than cold and drink neither Coke nor Pepsi. I was born in the Midwest but migrated to California as a child. My hobbies include doll collecting, lighthouses, photo restoration and writing, of course. My favorite sport is ice hockey, my favorite TV shows include Elementary, Person of Interest, NCIS, Downton Abbey, The Blacklist, and Grey's Anatomy. I am married to my hero of 30+ years and have 3 great kids!
Author links:
“You can do this. I want you to skate alone around the rest of the way.”
“No, I’m scared.”
“Trust me, Maddie. You've got to trust me. I’ll be right behind you.”
“What if I fall?”
“I can skate faster than you can fall,” he whispered, and Maddie closed her eyes against the shiver that enveloped her body. He gave her a little push and she began to skate, dreading the moment he would let go. And of course, he did let go, hanging back to give her room to skate ahead.
The girls at the window were rapt, whispering and giggling quietly as they watched their hero skate with his new girlfriend. Even some of his teammates stopped near the locker room door to watch the arena and the attention Jack was paying to the pretty girl in the pink sweater.
Maddie could barely breathe.
God, I have to do this. Trust Jack. Don’t let me fall!
Slowly, carefully, Maddie took the curve at the far end of the oval rink, concentrating on looking smooth and capable. She didn't dare wonder if Jack was still behind her, or how far away he was. She kept her eyes on the exit door. She was doing fine until the sound of an engine, a loud sound akin to that of a giant lawnmower, pervaded the rink and startled Maddie from her ice exhibition. Abruptly she turned her head in the direction of the sound, and the break in concentration disrupted her momentum, making her off-balance and wobbly.
Instantly she looked down at her skates, trying to get back into rhythm, but it was too late. She tried to remember how to drag the toe of her skate to brake, and in doing so made herself even more insecure. Terror filled her head. Oh no, I’m going down!
The thought did not even fully cross her mind and Jack was with her, his arms not merely grasping her waist but wrapped fully around her, the heat of his chest warming her back and shoulders. Looking forward, Maddie realized they were only a few feet away from the rink door.
They slowed to a stop, but still he held her, his lips close to her ear.
“Now, is there anything more I can do to earn your trust?” he whispered before kissing her neck briefly. He waited patiently for her to catch her breath, to calm down from her scare.
Maddie closed her eyes. Jack’s show of affection was not lost on her, but she hesitated to acknowledge it for fear that she was over-reacting. Perhaps it was only in sympathy, a consolation for her pathetic performance. Taking a deep breath, she mentally forced aside the exhilarating feel of his lips against her skin. But she could not begin to slow the wild flutter in her chest.
“Just tell me, who is Sam Bony, and what is that awful noise?”

Tuesday, May 6, 2014

Title: Summoned
Author: Rainy Kate
Genre: New Adult Paranormal Urban Fantasy
Blitz Host: Lady Amber's Tours
Twenty-three year old Dimitri has to do what he is told—literally. Controlled by a paranormal bond, he is forced to use his wits to fulfill unlimited deadly wishes made by multimillionaire Karl Walker.
Dimitri has no idea how his family line became trapped in the genie bond. He just knows resisting has never ended well. When he meets Syd—assertive, sexy, intelligent Syd—he becomes determined to make her his own. Except Karl has ensured Dimitri can't tell anyone about the bond, and Syd isn't the type to tolerate secrets.
Then Karl starts sending him away on back-to-back wishes. Unable to balance love and lies, Dimitri sets out to uncover Karl's ultimate plan and put it to an end. But doing so forces him to confront the one wish he never saw coming—the wish that will destroy him.
Summoned is represented by Rossano Trentin of TZLA.
Rainy Kaye is an aspiring overlord. In the meantime, she blogs  and writes paranormal novels from her lair somewhere in Phoenix, Arizona. When not plotting world domination, she enjoys getting lost around the globe, studying music so she can sing along with symphonic metal bands, and becoming distracted by Twitter (@rainyofthedark). She is represented by Rossano Trentin of TZLA.

Thursday, May 1, 2014

Waterproof by Amber Garr

By Amber Garr

Dying of thirst is the new reality.

Five years after the last drop of clean water disappeared, global societies collapsed and nuclear war shattered all hope of recovery. In a place now only a skeleton of its former self, survivors fight to avoid capture by the government. Forced to work in factories that produce the only drinking water available, those who go in, never come out.

Zach and Vivienne have lived as deserters since they were teenagers. Fighting amongst their own and scrounging for the necessities of life, they’ve learned to rely on each other in every way. Yet when tragedy strikes and the true objectives of the government facility are revealed, their world is ripped apart.

A fate once thought to hold their demise may be the sole answer to their survival. Who can they trust? Who can they believe?
In this life, it pays to be waterproof.

Link to Trailer: 
Series Website:
Excerpt 1
Ten more steps.
My legs ached with every jarring move, growing heavier the closer I got to my destination. The weight of my bounty pulled against me like a prisoner’s chain. If I dropped it, I would be safe. The idea taunted me as I ran through the abandoned junk yard, dodging large pieces of scrap metal and sliding over the rusty hoods of skeletal cars.
“Drop them or I’ll shoot you dead,” a gruff voice yelled behind me.
I didn’t dare turn back. Something whizzed past my ear and slammed into the side of an old van blocking the path in front of me. A reddish dust full of steel splinters exploded in my face as the unmistakable sound of tearing metal pierced the dusk air. I’d gravely misjudged this group of deserters.
Heart hammering in my chest, I slid to a stop before crashing into the bullet hole meant for my head. Two bottles slipped from my arms and rolled underneath the van before I could stop them. Shit. There wasn’t enough time but I couldn’t go back with only those left in my hands.
 I braved a look behind at my pursuers. The three men tearing after me had nothing but revenge in their eyes. If the two sawed-off shotguns didn’t represent their intentions, then the man firing the military rifle at my head made it very clear.
Another bullet slammed into the van just as I ducked down to retrieve the bottles. Footsteps pounded against the broken pavement and dead leaves, sounding more like an army than a handful of survivors like me. I reached as far as my shoulder would allow, ignoring the pain searing through my tired muscles. My fingertips brushed the plastic container just before it rolled further under the van.
“Where’d he go?” one of the men called out. He sounded close.
Dropping to my stomach, I nestled the remaining bottles under my left arm, while trying to retrieve the others with my right. After squeezing half my body underneath the van, I finally grabbed the first, then the second. Another shot ricocheted off the ground in front of me. They were trying to flush out my position and if they found me now, I was dead.
Scooping up the prized possessions I’d risked my life for, I prepared to run. Trapped between two vehicles, only one option presented itself - I’d have to get to the old cargo containers. This particular group of deserters set up their camp inside a metal scrap yard. Smart and resourceful. The dilapidated containers had been pushed to the sides, creating a barrier and providing some semblance of safety. Although I’d slipped through them easily on my way in, my arms were now full of water bottles that slowed me down.
Water. Wars were fought and lost over it. People died. Billions of humans perished in the days leading up to the end. And now I risked my life for a mere eight liters because we’d used the last natural drop of clean water on the planet five years ago.
Metal cracked above my head. Dust fell into my eyes and tiny pellets showered over my back like a swarm of bees.
“I’ve got him!”
I looked up in fear, only to see that I still had a clear path to my escape. Shotgun man had his sights somewhere else. Now was my chance.
Sucking in a deep breath, I scrambled to my feet and ran as hard as I could toward the narrow crevice between the containers. Forcing myself not to turn and look where they were, I ignored the shouting and distinct sound of shells hitting the ground.
Five more steps.
Excerpt 2
Vivienne yelled out and I whipped my head around to see what happened. The last man standing held an impressive hunting knife in his hand, while Vivienne had a fresh cut on her arm. Still, she held steady, sword gripped tightly in front of her, legs in a fighting stance.
Something stirred inside of me at the sight. Time slowed when I watched her wield the sword like an ancient warrior. It was hard to imagine that just a few years ago we were in high school worrying about football games and which party to go to on the weekend. Now we stayed in abandoned houses, scrounged for water, and spent most of our lives running. If things had been different, Vivienne and I would be graduating college this year. I had plans to go into medicine, and she wanted to be a vet. Funny how those dreams seemed so far away now.
A loud thump echoed through the now darkened night. She almost fell to the ground with the amount of momentum needed to decapitate the man. He dropped to his knees like a sinner begging for mercy, head rolling further down the hill. My stomach fluttered with admiration and annoyance.
“I didn’t need your help,” I said to her, getting up on my feet and trying not to wince at my injuries.
“Sure,” she huffed. Ripping her bandana off her face she tore it in two. “Here, wrap that up.” She nodded toward the tear in my sleeve and I stubbornly yanked the cloth out of her hand.
“I had everything under control,” I said between clenched teeth. It was the only way to mask the pain. “How did you know where to find me?”
“I followed the girly shrieks,” she said without missing a beat. I looked down at her in time to see a smirk pull at the corner of her mouth. “Let me do it.”
Once again, I allowed Vivienne to rescue me. It killed every part of that male ego inside, but I knew she’d let me do the same for her. In fact, I had. We always saved each other.
“Ow,” I said when she tightened the bandana a little too rough around my arm.
“Stop being a baby.”
“Stop showing off your man strength.”
She pulled even tighter but let a small laugh escape. I sucked in a breath at that sound, realizing how close I’d come to never hearing it again.
“Are you hurt anywhere else?” she asked, turning me around and patting her hands along my body. I froze, trying to ignore how comforting her touch felt. We’d been friends for years, and she was the only person in this world I trusted. Why had I risked so much for this run?
I stepped away from her, not liking where my thoughts were headed. “I’m fine,” I mumbled. “Stop mothering me.”
“I wouldn’t have to if you’d listen to me.” She stopped in front of my face and stared me down. I stood a little over six feet tall and she was just a few inches shorter. Together with that glare, almost any man would cower under her. “Was it worth it?”
“The water. How much did you get?”
I hung my head in embarrassment. “I had eight, but they shot through one. So six, I guess.”
“Six bottles?” She looked impressed.
“No, six liters.” Silence.
“You just made me kill three men for six liters of water?”
I shuffled my feet. “You only killed two.”
She reached out so quickly, I couldn’t defend myself. Both hands pushed against my chest and I stumbled back, falling to the ground.
“I could make it three,” she hissed. “I should kill you for your stupidity alone.”

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About the Author

Amber Garr spends her days as a scientist and nights writing about other worlds. Born in Pennsylvania, she lives in Maryland with her husband and their furry kids. Her childhood imaginary friend was a witch, Halloween is sacred, and she is certain she has a supernatural sense of smell. Amber is a multiple Royal Palm Literary Award winner, author of The Syrenka Series, The Leila Marx Novels, The Water Crisis Chronicles, and the upcoming Death Warden Series. When not obsessing over the unknown, she can be found dancing, reading, or enjoying a good movie.

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