Kyle has an unwelcome crush on his nemesis Brent. Brent has a welcome crush on his friend Kyle. As it turns out, the line between a friend and an enemy doesn’t have to be a line at all.
Born on the wrong side of the tracks to the wrong family, Kyle Potter. When he gets the perfect job at the perfect firm in perfect Los Angeles, Kyle is sure there are only blue skies ahead. Born with a silver spoon to a well-established family, Brent has never been interested in leveraging his connections. Friends, success, and dates come easily to Brent and rejection isn’t something he has to deal with in life. And then he meets perfect Kyle Potter. |
stake. He might be able to live with his responsibility for the death of a loved one, but could he survive killing the future of magic. - MEET HELEN HENDERSON -Although the author of several local histories, and numerous articles on the topics of American and military history, antiques and collectibles, Henderson’s first love is fiction. Her work in the museum and history fields enables a special insight into creating fantasy worlds. The descendent of a coal-miner's daughter and an aviation flight engineer, her writing reflects the contrasts of her heritage as well as that of her Gemini sign. Her stories cross genres from historical westerns to science fiction and fantasy. In the world of fantasy romance, she is the author of the Dragshi Chronicles and The Windmaster Novels. Her stand-alone novels include the dragon magic fantasy, Fire and Amulet, and the dark fantasy, Imprisoned in Stone. In her books, she invites readers to join her on travels through the stars, or among fantasy worlds of the imagination. Find her on online at: Goodreads Website/Blog - Excerpts, writing tips, information on new releases, and thoughts on the world and writing. - SNEAK PEEK - The man’s raspy voice barely carried past the table. Ellspeth strained to hear him. “Captain Ellspeth, do you acknowledge you relinquished command of Sea Falcon to your first officer? That you abandoned your ship and crew in the Northern Sea?” All the anger she had at her mother because there was no warning the summons was anything other than routine fled in an instant. With every bit of strength, Ellspeth fought to keep the waiver from her voice. After a gulp of air, she was able to answer with a simple, “Yes.” “Then by the ruling of the council of the House of Cszabo, you are hereby stripped of your rank and command. I order you to surrender your captain’s bracelets.” Ellspeth stared first at the man whose simple statement held an intractable finality, then at her mother. The guild leader’s expression didn’t change except for a slight tightening of her lips. Mother didn’t know. But how could the council vote to sanction me without her knowing? Only one possibility remained. My mother knew! Ellspeth was unsure whether her hands or the councilman’s blue-veined ones trembled more when the mark of her rank was pulled from her wrists. Sea Falcon had been her home, and she its captain for the past three turns. She knew every inch of the barque from the tip of the ship’s five masts to the carved insignia on the bow. Every curse she had ever heard in the various ports of the Northern Sea fought to get past her lips. Instead, one thought roared in her mind. I’ve lost my ship. Windmaster Legacy Available At: Amazon More ebook stores - GIVEAWAY -To ENTER you MUST comment below: WINNERS:
|
He’s a rock star with stage fright. She’s a therapist with a dangerous secret… Sebastian Roe was shot onstage during a concert five years ago, sending him into a creative tailspin and leaving him with a deep fear of performing. But his love of music is too strong to keep him off a stage forever, despite the fact the police never caught the gunman. He just needs a little help getting back in front of an audience, and figures announcing a U.S. tour will force him back onstage. Unfortunately, it's bringing up his worst nightmare and puts his sold-out comeback tour in jeopardy. |
Mia Merrill was in the audience the night of Sebastian’s fateful concert. She loves his music and wants to help him overcome his PTSD and get him back onstage, but there’s another reason she’s determined to become his therapist.
She’s the reason he was shot.
Driven by guilt and a need to atone, Mia takes Sebastian on as a patient. Romantic sparks fly between the two during their therapy sessions, but no sooner do they start to make progress on Sebastian’s stage fright than the gunman announces he’s back to finish the job.
She’s the reason he was shot.
Driven by guilt and a need to atone, Mia takes Sebastian on as a patient. Romantic sparks fly between the two during their therapy sessions, but no sooner do they start to make progress on Sebastian’s stage fright than the gunman announces he’s back to finish the job.
- Sneak peek -
Sebastian Roe lived for nights like this one.
The roar of the audience echoing in his ears, the wail of Nick’s guitar making his body vibrate, the pounding of Trevor’s drums pulsing like a living heartbeat.
In concert, Sebastian gave every ounce of energy to his fans, everything he had. They loved him for it, and he fed off that love. Hell, he mainlined it. It was a beautiful symbiosis, like a massive orgasm shared with thousands of people.
And this moment of anticipation before each song started was like delicious foreplay, a breathless excitement that danced along his nerve endings.
The first notes of “I Can’t Live Without You” launched into the air and the roar of the crowd became thunder. A solid wall of sound. Even with his in-ear monitor, Sebastian could hardly hear Nick’s guitar to listen for his cue to start singing. But he knew this song as well as he knew his own name so he strutted to the front of the stage, throwing open his arms in a show of embracing them all. Every single person out there in the audience.
The roar got even louder.
“The sands of time run through my hands, my dreams and hopes and all my plans,” he crooned, his voice intentionally cracking to convey the sad emotion of the song. “I can’t live without you.”
It was his biggest hit. But more than any of his songs, Sebastian’s favorite music was the sound of the crowd’s deafening approval. He wasn’t disappointed now.
He grinned widely, and then felt an odd sting in the vicinity of his left shoulder. It pushed him back on the stage a few steps, as if a ghost had just shoved him. He looked around, but clearly nobody else was onstage except him and the band.
The sting became a burn, but he ignored it. Had he just pulled a muscle? No time to deal with it now.
He took a breath, readying for the next verse, but he was distracted by an odd warmth now spreading across his chest. He looked down and tried to make sense of what he was seeing – a stain on his shirt where he’d felt that stinging burn. As he watched, the stain got larger. It was a dark shade of red.
It was blood. His blood.
His head started to spin and he sank to his knees. The wail of Nick’s guitar stopped. The pounding of Trevor’s drums stopped. Everything went eerily quiet in a venue built for sound.
Sebastian felt the heat of the spotlights still trained directly on him, and as his vision started to fade his last thought was that he’d lived his life on a stage and tonight he was going to die on one.
The roar of the audience echoing in his ears, the wail of Nick’s guitar making his body vibrate, the pounding of Trevor’s drums pulsing like a living heartbeat.
In concert, Sebastian gave every ounce of energy to his fans, everything he had. They loved him for it, and he fed off that love. Hell, he mainlined it. It was a beautiful symbiosis, like a massive orgasm shared with thousands of people.
And this moment of anticipation before each song started was like delicious foreplay, a breathless excitement that danced along his nerve endings.
The first notes of “I Can’t Live Without You” launched into the air and the roar of the crowd became thunder. A solid wall of sound. Even with his in-ear monitor, Sebastian could hardly hear Nick’s guitar to listen for his cue to start singing. But he knew this song as well as he knew his own name so he strutted to the front of the stage, throwing open his arms in a show of embracing them all. Every single person out there in the audience.
The roar got even louder.
“The sands of time run through my hands, my dreams and hopes and all my plans,” he crooned, his voice intentionally cracking to convey the sad emotion of the song. “I can’t live without you.”
It was his biggest hit. But more than any of his songs, Sebastian’s favorite music was the sound of the crowd’s deafening approval. He wasn’t disappointed now.
He grinned widely, and then felt an odd sting in the vicinity of his left shoulder. It pushed him back on the stage a few steps, as if a ghost had just shoved him. He looked around, but clearly nobody else was onstage except him and the band.
The sting became a burn, but he ignored it. Had he just pulled a muscle? No time to deal with it now.
He took a breath, readying for the next verse, but he was distracted by an odd warmth now spreading across his chest. He looked down and tried to make sense of what he was seeing – a stain on his shirt where he’d felt that stinging burn. As he watched, the stain got larger. It was a dark shade of red.
It was blood. His blood.
His head started to spin and he sank to his knees. The wail of Nick’s guitar stopped. The pounding of Trevor’s drums stopped. Everything went eerily quiet in a venue built for sound.
Sebastian felt the heat of the spotlights still trained directly on him, and as his vision started to fade his last thought was that he’d lived his life on a stage and tonight he was going to die on one.
- Giveaway -
Prize One:
Prize Two
To ENTER you must comment below"
1. What did you like about the sneak peek of Rock Star? (please say more than it sounds romantic/interesting/ect.)
2. Follow Leigh Court on Facebook HERE.
Winners:
Gift Card: Donna
Prize List book: Karen
When a vampire finds his soulmate, the bond is forever. It’s love at first sight. Or is it? Homicide Detective Jonas Forge has been a vampire for centuries. He’s fought wars, seen life go from the simple colonial days to the modern high-tech world. He’s evolved with the times, adapted to each new era, blended into each new life. The one constant is his best friend, mentor, and lover, Declan. Even though not fated to bond as soulmates, Forge and Declan are happy and settled in their life together. Until Forge’s real soulmate falls, literally, into his life. |
Forge isn’t thrilled with the guy, despite the pheromones attracting them to each other, and the feeling seems mutual. While trying to adjust to his clumsy soulmate and equally awkward feelings, Forge is also on the hunt for a serial-killer witnesses can’t identify who’s leaving a trail of bodies in its wake.
Will the bond Forge is finally forming with his soulmate be destroyed when the hunter becomes the victim?
If you like fated mates who aren’t perfect for each other, a paranormal killer who might not be caught and found families then you’ll love Elizabeth Noble’s Electric Candle.
Will the bond Forge is finally forming with his soulmate be destroyed when the hunter becomes the victim?
If you like fated mates who aren’t perfect for each other, a paranormal killer who might not be caught and found families then you’ll love Elizabeth Noble’s Electric Candle.
- MORE ABOUT THE SLEEPLESS CITY SERIES -
The Sleepless City is a series I wrote with Anne Barwell. I wrote books two (Electric Candle) and four (Shifting Chaos) of the series.
Electric Candle features Jonas Forge and Blair Turner, both are vampires and that’s where the similarity ends. Forge has been a vampire for hundreds of years. He’s grouchy, tough, can be an a-hole at times and has a heart of gold. For the last sixty-something years he’s been a detective and his favorite method of stopping the bad guy is jumping off a building and landing in their path, blocking their escape. Blair’s years as a vampire are in the single digits. He’s a scholar, a cyber security specialist with questionable fashion choices and if he jumped off a building, he’d probably break his legs. The worst part? He has no clue how to be a vampire.
Forge and Blair have been friends for a while, but only online. They're not great friends, not even good friends but when they meet in person everything changes. Blair has harbored a crush on Forge, who he sees as a hero. Neither man knows the other is a vampire and neither is what the other expected.
A basic of The Sleepless City is soulmates. Traditionally, soulmates are drawn to one another, bond and love each other forever and ever. When I began writing Electric Candle, I wanted to do something a little bit different. Blair and Forge discover, somewhat awkwardly, they're soulmates and the fun really begins. Now they're two sorta friends, who know almost nothing about each other, irresistibly drawn together as soulmates and thrust into a much deeper, and permanent relationship as soulmates.
That begged the questions, what happens if it’s not love at first sight for soulmates? What happens if one of them has had a man in his life, and they’ve loved each other, for almost two centuries?
Fortunately, Forge and Blair have eternity to work things out. It seems they might need that time! It’s a good thing for them that when opposites come together there are sparks.
Lots of sparks!
Those sparks fan into flames and two strangers, two very opposite men, learn to become one fantastic couple, two sides to the same coin. The journey of Forge and Blair is not a typical one for soulmates, it's bumpy and exciting and full of self-discovery for not only them but those who are part of their found family. I hope you’ll follow their journey which begins in Electric Candle.
Electric Candle features Jonas Forge and Blair Turner, both are vampires and that’s where the similarity ends. Forge has been a vampire for hundreds of years. He’s grouchy, tough, can be an a-hole at times and has a heart of gold. For the last sixty-something years he’s been a detective and his favorite method of stopping the bad guy is jumping off a building and landing in their path, blocking their escape. Blair’s years as a vampire are in the single digits. He’s a scholar, a cyber security specialist with questionable fashion choices and if he jumped off a building, he’d probably break his legs. The worst part? He has no clue how to be a vampire.
Forge and Blair have been friends for a while, but only online. They're not great friends, not even good friends but when they meet in person everything changes. Blair has harbored a crush on Forge, who he sees as a hero. Neither man knows the other is a vampire and neither is what the other expected.
A basic of The Sleepless City is soulmates. Traditionally, soulmates are drawn to one another, bond and love each other forever and ever. When I began writing Electric Candle, I wanted to do something a little bit different. Blair and Forge discover, somewhat awkwardly, they're soulmates and the fun really begins. Now they're two sorta friends, who know almost nothing about each other, irresistibly drawn together as soulmates and thrust into a much deeper, and permanent relationship as soulmates.
That begged the questions, what happens if it’s not love at first sight for soulmates? What happens if one of them has had a man in his life, and they’ve loved each other, for almost two centuries?
Fortunately, Forge and Blair have eternity to work things out. It seems they might need that time! It’s a good thing for them that when opposites come together there are sparks.
Lots of sparks!
Those sparks fan into flames and two strangers, two very opposite men, learn to become one fantastic couple, two sides to the same coin. The journey of Forge and Blair is not a typical one for soulmates, it's bumpy and exciting and full of self-discovery for not only them but those who are part of their found family. I hope you’ll follow their journey which begins in Electric Candle.
- Giveaway -
- Prize One -
- Prize Two - | - Prize Three - |
To ENTER you must comment below:
1. What did you find most interesting about Electric Candle? (please say more than it sounded interesting, romantic, ect.)
2. Follow Elizabeth Noble on Instagram HERE.
Good luck!
They have the killer on video and yet no one can see his face… Brett and Genius are on another case. This one involves a series of robberies where elderly victims are murdered. They have no idea how the victims are chosen or when the next one will be targeted. Their only clue is a video of the killer and his face is blurred. What invention could do that? Even Genius is stumped. As they look for suspects, the heat between them intensifies. Neither man has forgotten the kiss they shared and Genius wants a lot more than Brett’s lips. |
- Sneak Peek -
“Morning. I, um, I just wanted to return this to you before I forgot.” Now that Brett said it out loud, he cringed. That sounded so fucking lame. This was a bad idea.
“You came here at seven AM to return a tie.” Genius opened the door wider. “Keep it. It looked great on you.”
Brett blushed. “Oh. Thanks. Well, I’m off today, but I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”
Genius waved his hand. “You came here for more than a tie, Brett. Come in for a cup of coffee. It’s too early to function after the night we had without caffeine.”
Brett couldn’t argue that. He went into the apartment, closing the door behind him. He still couldn’t believe how big this place was. It looked like a mansion compared to his own apartment. What sort of tech did he have in here? Brett was genuinely curious.
Genius came back into the lavish but comfortable living room with two cups of coffee. He placed them on the glass table and flopped onto the couch. The robe edge slid up his bare thigh.
Oh, hell. “I can’t really stay.”
“You’re going to waste a cup of coffee?”
Shit. No. That was like a sin. Brett sat at the end of the couch, but Genius was square in the middle. He held the ceramic cup in his hands and took a sip. Oh, fuck, that tasted good. Genius definitely knew how to make a good cup of coffee, and that was one of Brett’s weaknesses. “Delicious.” His voice had gone raspy. This would be the perfect time to talk about how bad of an idea them having sex would be. “Is Zia still here?” He didn’t want her to hear anything that would scar her for life.
“She left half an hour ago. Early study group. So, it’s just us.”
They were alone in the apartment? He took another sip of coffee. “Genius.”
“Ah, ready to talk, then.” He put down his cup.
“Yes, I am. I like you, Genius, but work is too…” Brett didn’t get a chance to finish. Genius leaned over and kissed him. The moment their lips met, his thoughts scattered. He opened his mouth as Genius slid his tongue inside. Passion ignited like a fucking volcano. Brett kissed back, his hands moving to Genius’s robe.
He shrugged it off, shifting to his knees.
The kiss continued as Genius advanced, lying on top of him. Brett opened his legs, letting the other man settle between them. The air warmed between them. Genius’s hands roamed up his shirt. Brett had never been so happy not to be wearing a work shirt. Those buttons would have been scattered everywhere, and he wouldn’t have even cared.
Genius broke the kiss only to trail his lips down Brett’s neck. He shifted his hands higher until he found that chest and those nipple rings. He tugged on one, making Brett groan. A moment later, Genius was sitting as he shoved Brett’s shirt up. The man leaned over and sucked the gold hoop piercing into his mouth.
Oh, fuck. Brett grabbed his head, his fingers skimming through silky hair. It had been a long time since he’d felt this much lust. His whole body was taut, muscles rigid, and his cock was a beast. It strained at his sweatpants like they were a confining cage made for torture.
Genius let go of Brett long enough to haul his shirt off. He threw it behind the couch and went back to those nipple rings.
Kissing. Tugging with his teeth. Licking. Brett let out a low groan, and then that talented mouth was kissing lower. Genius played his tongue around Brett’s belly button. Anticipation made him gasp for breath. He’d been dreaming about this. Thinking about this nonstop. Even before he’d met Genius, he’d been attracted to his image. Now that the man was in his arms, it was like a wet dream come true.
“You came here at seven AM to return a tie.” Genius opened the door wider. “Keep it. It looked great on you.”
Brett blushed. “Oh. Thanks. Well, I’m off today, but I’ll see you at work tomorrow.”
Genius waved his hand. “You came here for more than a tie, Brett. Come in for a cup of coffee. It’s too early to function after the night we had without caffeine.”
Brett couldn’t argue that. He went into the apartment, closing the door behind him. He still couldn’t believe how big this place was. It looked like a mansion compared to his own apartment. What sort of tech did he have in here? Brett was genuinely curious.
Genius came back into the lavish but comfortable living room with two cups of coffee. He placed them on the glass table and flopped onto the couch. The robe edge slid up his bare thigh.
Oh, hell. “I can’t really stay.”
“You’re going to waste a cup of coffee?”
Shit. No. That was like a sin. Brett sat at the end of the couch, but Genius was square in the middle. He held the ceramic cup in his hands and took a sip. Oh, fuck, that tasted good. Genius definitely knew how to make a good cup of coffee, and that was one of Brett’s weaknesses. “Delicious.” His voice had gone raspy. This would be the perfect time to talk about how bad of an idea them having sex would be. “Is Zia still here?” He didn’t want her to hear anything that would scar her for life.
“She left half an hour ago. Early study group. So, it’s just us.”
They were alone in the apartment? He took another sip of coffee. “Genius.”
“Ah, ready to talk, then.” He put down his cup.
“Yes, I am. I like you, Genius, but work is too…” Brett didn’t get a chance to finish. Genius leaned over and kissed him. The moment their lips met, his thoughts scattered. He opened his mouth as Genius slid his tongue inside. Passion ignited like a fucking volcano. Brett kissed back, his hands moving to Genius’s robe.
He shrugged it off, shifting to his knees.
The kiss continued as Genius advanced, lying on top of him. Brett opened his legs, letting the other man settle between them. The air warmed between them. Genius’s hands roamed up his shirt. Brett had never been so happy not to be wearing a work shirt. Those buttons would have been scattered everywhere, and he wouldn’t have even cared.
Genius broke the kiss only to trail his lips down Brett’s neck. He shifted his hands higher until he found that chest and those nipple rings. He tugged on one, making Brett groan. A moment later, Genius was sitting as he shoved Brett’s shirt up. The man leaned over and sucked the gold hoop piercing into his mouth.
Oh, fuck. Brett grabbed his head, his fingers skimming through silky hair. It had been a long time since he’d felt this much lust. His whole body was taut, muscles rigid, and his cock was a beast. It strained at his sweatpants like they were a confining cage made for torture.
Genius let go of Brett long enough to haul his shirt off. He threw it behind the couch and went back to those nipple rings.
Kissing. Tugging with his teeth. Licking. Brett let out a low groan, and then that talented mouth was kissing lower. Genius played his tongue around Brett’s belly button. Anticipation made him gasp for breath. He’d been dreaming about this. Thinking about this nonstop. Even before he’d met Genius, he’d been attracted to his image. Now that the man was in his arms, it was like a wet dream come true.
- Giveaway -
To ENTER comment below:
1. What did you enjoy about the sneak peek of A Date with Violence?
2. Follow James on Facebook HERE.
Good luck!
Winners:
A Date with Violence: Kate
Prize List Book: Annaleigh
Can Ember control the monster inside her? Her father is the terrorist who released a virus that devastated most of the world and created vampire zombies. The cure is in her veins, and she’s sacrificed her freedom to find a vaccine. Now, Ember holds the last mutated strain in her blood, and the government votes whether to keep her alive or kill her. A film crew arrives to document her story, and it's her only chance to sway the vote. An unexpected kiss leads to an infection that may start another outbreak. Ember must fight the effects of the darkness inside her to keep from turning into a monster. Will that be enough to save her life or will she start an apocalypse just like her father? |
- Sneak Peek -
Ember took a shaky breath and lifted her shirt.
His gaze went right to the wound. The bite. “No. No!” He fell to his knees before her. “It could be from the fall, the roll, the car accident.”
Ember shook her head. “Sam. It bit me. I could be infected.” God, those words were hard to say. She took a shaky breath as her vision blurred.
“We don’t know that. It might not be transferred like that.” He hugged her to him.
Ember felt the tears slide down her cheeks as she looked down at him. Her Sam. He glanced up at her, tears shimmering on his cheeks.
“I can’t lose you, Em.”
She was already gone. She’d help him find a house to stay in and be safe then she’d slink off in the middle of the night. Ember hadn’t planned what to do after that.
“There could be a cure already. You may not even be infected. Maybe it’s airborne.” He kept talking, sprouting new hopeful theories.
Ember gazed into his beautiful green eyes and ruffled his red hair with her hand. “I really do love you, Sam.” She took a breath. “But if I am infected, I’m not safe.” She didn’t want to leave him, but staying would be too risky.
“You might not be.”
“But if I am.”
“If doesn’t mean you are,” he shouted and shoved to his feet.
Ember blinked away the gathering tears and hugged him. She held him as close as she could for as long as she could. Then she tilted her head back and placed her lips on his. It shocked them both. The subtle, soft touch. She lingered, poured her feelings through that kiss like a love letter. Sam reciprocated, sending her stomach into a fit of nerves and excitement. Ember pulled back, ran her hands through the red hair she loved, and stared into the beautiful blue eyes. Then the sun got brighter. She had to blink and lower her head. It was too vivid. When had it gotten so intense? She felt like she was staring directly at it even though she was looking at the ground. Ember let go of Sam. She shook her head. Her knees gave way.
“Em?”
Oh, God, it was happening already. She tried to crawl away, but her skin was so hot. Sam clutched her. He pulled her to him and they sat by the truck with her head in his lap. She closed her eyes when the shine became too powerful. “Run, Sam.” She didn’t want to hurt him.
“I’m not leaving you. I’m going to stay with you, Em. Until … until the end.”
His gaze went right to the wound. The bite. “No. No!” He fell to his knees before her. “It could be from the fall, the roll, the car accident.”
Ember shook her head. “Sam. It bit me. I could be infected.” God, those words were hard to say. She took a shaky breath as her vision blurred.
“We don’t know that. It might not be transferred like that.” He hugged her to him.
Ember felt the tears slide down her cheeks as she looked down at him. Her Sam. He glanced up at her, tears shimmering on his cheeks.
“I can’t lose you, Em.”
She was already gone. She’d help him find a house to stay in and be safe then she’d slink off in the middle of the night. Ember hadn’t planned what to do after that.
“There could be a cure already. You may not even be infected. Maybe it’s airborne.” He kept talking, sprouting new hopeful theories.
Ember gazed into his beautiful green eyes and ruffled his red hair with her hand. “I really do love you, Sam.” She took a breath. “But if I am infected, I’m not safe.” She didn’t want to leave him, but staying would be too risky.
“You might not be.”
“But if I am.”
“If doesn’t mean you are,” he shouted and shoved to his feet.
Ember blinked away the gathering tears and hugged him. She held him as close as she could for as long as she could. Then she tilted her head back and placed her lips on his. It shocked them both. The subtle, soft touch. She lingered, poured her feelings through that kiss like a love letter. Sam reciprocated, sending her stomach into a fit of nerves and excitement. Ember pulled back, ran her hands through the red hair she loved, and stared into the beautiful blue eyes. Then the sun got brighter. She had to blink and lower her head. It was too vivid. When had it gotten so intense? She felt like she was staring directly at it even though she was looking at the ground. Ember let go of Sam. She shook her head. Her knees gave way.
“Em?”
Oh, God, it was happening already. She tried to crawl away, but her skin was so hot. Sam clutched her. He pulled her to him and they sat by the truck with her head in his lap. She closed her eyes when the shine became too powerful. “Run, Sam.” She didn’t want to hurt him.
“I’m not leaving you. I’m going to stay with you, Em. Until … until the end.”
- Giveaway -
To ENTER you must comment below:
1. What did you like about the sneak peek of If We Were Heroes?
2. Follow Christine on Instagram HERE
For extra entries share this post using the Facebook and Twitter buttons below. Good luck!
Can Ember control the monster inside her? Her father is the terrorist who released a virus that devastated most of the world and created vampire zombies. The cure is in her veins, and she’s sacrificed her freedom to find a vaccine. Now, Ember holds the last mutated strain in her blood, and the government votes whether to keep her alive or kill her. A film crew arrives to document her story, and it may be her only chance to sway the vote. However, an unexpected kiss leads to an infection that may start another worldwide outbreak. Ember must fight the effects of the darkness inside her to keep from turning into |
the monster.
Will that be enough to save her life or will she start an apocalypse just like her father?
Will that be enough to save her life or will she start an apocalypse just like her father?
- Sneak Peek -
Ember took a shaky breath and lifted her shirt.
His gaze went right to the wound. The bite. “No. No!” He fell to his knees before her. “It could be from the fall, the roll, the car accident.”
Ember shook her head. “Sam. It bit me. I could be infected.” God, those words were hard to say. She took a shaky breath as her vision blurred.
“We don’t know that. It might not be transferred like that.” He hugged her to him.
Ember felt the tears slide down her cheeks as she looked down at him. Her Sam. He glanced up at her, tears shimmering on his cheeks.
“I can’t lose you, Em.”
She was already gone. She’d help him find a house to stay in and be safe then she’d slink off in the middle of the night. Ember hadn’t planned what to do after that.
“There could be a cure already. You may not even be infected. Maybe it’s airborne.” He kept talking, sprouting new hopeful theories.
Ember gazed into his beautiful green eyes and ruffled his red hair with her hand. “I really do love you, Sam.” She took a breath. “But if I am infected, I’m not safe.” She didn’t want to leave him, but staying would be too risky.
“You might not be.”
“But if I am.”
“If doesn’t mean you are,” he shouted and shoved to his feet.
Ember blinked away the gathering tears and hugged him. She held him as close as she could for as long as she could. Then she tilted her head back and placed her lips on his. It shocked them both. The subtle, soft touch. She lingered, poured her feelings through that kiss like a love letter. Sam reciprocated, sending her stomach into a fit of nerves and excitement. Ember pulled back, ran her hands through the red hair she loved, and stared into the beautiful blue eyes. Then the sun got brighter. She had to blink and lower her head. It was too vivid. When had it gotten so intense? She felt like she was staring directly at it even though she was looking at the ground. Ember let go of Sam. She shook her head. Her knees gave way.
“Em?”
Oh, God, it was happening already. She tried to crawl away, but her skin was so hot. Sam clutched her. He pulled her to him and they sat by the truck with her head in his lap. She closed her eyes when the shine became too powerful. “Run, Sam.” She didn’t want to hurt him.
“I’m not leaving you. I’m going to stay with you, Em. Until … until the end.”
His gaze went right to the wound. The bite. “No. No!” He fell to his knees before her. “It could be from the fall, the roll, the car accident.”
Ember shook her head. “Sam. It bit me. I could be infected.” God, those words were hard to say. She took a shaky breath as her vision blurred.
“We don’t know that. It might not be transferred like that.” He hugged her to him.
Ember felt the tears slide down her cheeks as she looked down at him. Her Sam. He glanced up at her, tears shimmering on his cheeks.
“I can’t lose you, Em.”
She was already gone. She’d help him find a house to stay in and be safe then she’d slink off in the middle of the night. Ember hadn’t planned what to do after that.
“There could be a cure already. You may not even be infected. Maybe it’s airborne.” He kept talking, sprouting new hopeful theories.
Ember gazed into his beautiful green eyes and ruffled his red hair with her hand. “I really do love you, Sam.” She took a breath. “But if I am infected, I’m not safe.” She didn’t want to leave him, but staying would be too risky.
“You might not be.”
“But if I am.”
“If doesn’t mean you are,” he shouted and shoved to his feet.
Ember blinked away the gathering tears and hugged him. She held him as close as she could for as long as she could. Then she tilted her head back and placed her lips on his. It shocked them both. The subtle, soft touch. She lingered, poured her feelings through that kiss like a love letter. Sam reciprocated, sending her stomach into a fit of nerves and excitement. Ember pulled back, ran her hands through the red hair she loved, and stared into the beautiful blue eyes. Then the sun got brighter. She had to blink and lower her head. It was too vivid. When had it gotten so intense? She felt like she was staring directly at it even though she was looking at the ground. Ember let go of Sam. She shook her head. Her knees gave way.
“Em?”
Oh, God, it was happening already. She tried to crawl away, but her skin was so hot. Sam clutched her. He pulled her to him and they sat by the truck with her head in his lap. She closed her eyes when the shine became too powerful. “Run, Sam.” She didn’t want to hurt him.
“I’m not leaving you. I’m going to stay with you, Em. Until … until the end.”
- Giveaway -
To ENTER:
-Comment below what you liked about the sneak peek from If We Were Heroes.
-Have you read Christine Anna Kirchoff yet?
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Winners:
Gift card: Stacy K
Ecopy of Eight Lies: Terri Rinko
Prize List book: Johanna and Andrea
Lord Valadon, CEO of ValCorp and leader of New York’s vampires, has become fascinated with Miranda Crescent, a human woman with powers only Elementals possess. As his enemies conspire against him, he becomes drawn to her, but knows any involvement with Miranda will only endanger her life because within the human population exists the Human Order of Light, a powerful hate group, who would see the eradication of the vampires. Miranda Crescent is an authenticator of rare works of art who isn’t afraid of danger. Her best friend is |
the Were Queen and her mentor is a vampire ancient. At first, resistive to Valadon’s charms, she will risk her life to bring him the information he needs to thwart his enemies. But Valadon’s second, the sexy and sarcastic Remare, believes Miranda is a member of the HOL working to destroy his lord. The chemistry between them quickly escalates as they search for those plotting against Valadon.Putting aside their distrust of each other, Remare and Miranda work hard to discover who is trying to murder the high lord. But Remare’s first loyalty is to his lord. He can’t allow himself to care for someone Valadon has marked as his own…or can he?
- Q and A with Diana Marik -
Q: How did you begin your writing career?
DM: I was an avid reader of paranormal romance and urban fantasy, always fascinated with otherworldly type books and as a former English teacher, I figured I could do this. I joined professional writers’ associations and attended numerous seminars, workshops, lectures, etc. Having a kickass editor who helped me grow as an author was a bonus.
Q: Do you have any favorite authors you consider influential?
DM: Yes, several. The first two authors I read were Laurell K. Hamilton (UF) and Sherrilyn McQueen (PNR). I adore both of them and that’s probably why my own style of writing is a blend of PNR and UF. Other authors I admire are Nalini Singh, Karen Marie Moning, JR Ward, and JD Robb, among many others.
Q: What do you enjoy most about writing?
DM: That’s a tough one. Mostly I like coming up with characters who are interesting, sexy, fun, dynamic, and not afraid of taking risks. I like putting them outside their comfort zones to see how they’ll react. And, of course, I love writing romantic situations, watching how characters fall in love, sometimes fighting the attraction every step of the way.
Q: Besides writing, what else do you enjoy?
DM: Traveling. I’m a New Yorker, but I have friends who live in the South, so I get to visit Florida, New Orleans, and New Mexico; I consider NOLA my home away from home.
Q: What do you consider the highlights of your career?
DM: Besides meeting other authors I fangirl over, I’d say winning the Passionate Ink Award for Best Paranormal Romance. It was totally unexpected and a thrilling experience.
Book Blurb:
Lord Valadon, CEO of ValCorp and leader of New York’s vampires, has become fascinated with Miranda Crescent—a human woman with powers only Elementals possess. As his enemies conspire against him, he becomes drawn to her, but knows any involvement with Miranda will only endanger her life because within the human population exists the Human Order of Light—a nefarious organization, whose sole purpose is the eradication of vampires.
Miranda Crescent is an authenticator of rare works of art who isn’t afraid of danger. Her best friend is the Were Queen and her mentor is a vampire ancient. At first, resistive to Valadon’s charms, she will risk her life to bring him the information he needs to thwart his enemies.
But Valadon’s second—the sexy and sarcastic Remare, believes Miranda is a member of the HOL working to destroy his lord. The chemistry between them quickly escalates as they search for those plotting against Valadon. Putting aside their mutual distrust, Remare and Miranda work to discover who is trying to murder the High Lord. But Remare’s first loyalty is to his lord. He can’t allow himself to care for someone Valadon has marked as his own…or can he? Action, suspense, mystery, and steamy romance.
DM: I was an avid reader of paranormal romance and urban fantasy, always fascinated with otherworldly type books and as a former English teacher, I figured I could do this. I joined professional writers’ associations and attended numerous seminars, workshops, lectures, etc. Having a kickass editor who helped me grow as an author was a bonus.
Q: Do you have any favorite authors you consider influential?
DM: Yes, several. The first two authors I read were Laurell K. Hamilton (UF) and Sherrilyn McQueen (PNR). I adore both of them and that’s probably why my own style of writing is a blend of PNR and UF. Other authors I admire are Nalini Singh, Karen Marie Moning, JR Ward, and JD Robb, among many others.
Q: What do you enjoy most about writing?
DM: That’s a tough one. Mostly I like coming up with characters who are interesting, sexy, fun, dynamic, and not afraid of taking risks. I like putting them outside their comfort zones to see how they’ll react. And, of course, I love writing romantic situations, watching how characters fall in love, sometimes fighting the attraction every step of the way.
Q: Besides writing, what else do you enjoy?
DM: Traveling. I’m a New Yorker, but I have friends who live in the South, so I get to visit Florida, New Orleans, and New Mexico; I consider NOLA my home away from home.
Q: What do you consider the highlights of your career?
DM: Besides meeting other authors I fangirl over, I’d say winning the Passionate Ink Award for Best Paranormal Romance. It was totally unexpected and a thrilling experience.
Book Blurb:
Lord Valadon, CEO of ValCorp and leader of New York’s vampires, has become fascinated with Miranda Crescent—a human woman with powers only Elementals possess. As his enemies conspire against him, he becomes drawn to her, but knows any involvement with Miranda will only endanger her life because within the human population exists the Human Order of Light—a nefarious organization, whose sole purpose is the eradication of vampires.
Miranda Crescent is an authenticator of rare works of art who isn’t afraid of danger. Her best friend is the Were Queen and her mentor is a vampire ancient. At first, resistive to Valadon’s charms, she will risk her life to bring him the information he needs to thwart his enemies.
But Valadon’s second—the sexy and sarcastic Remare, believes Miranda is a member of the HOL working to destroy his lord. The chemistry between them quickly escalates as they search for those plotting against Valadon. Putting aside their mutual distrust, Remare and Miranda work to discover who is trying to murder the High Lord. But Remare’s first loyalty is to his lord. He can’t allow himself to care for someone Valadon has marked as his own…or can he? Action, suspense, mystery, and steamy romance.
- GIVEAWAY -
To enter comment below:
1. What interested you most in the interview?
2. Have you read Diana Marik before?
For extra entries follow us on Facebook here. If you already following you have an extra entry. Good luck!
WINNERS:
Gift card: Lisa Ann Jones
Signed book: Kayla
Bonus winner for free ebook: Renee Mirsky
They each hit the trail solo in search of themselves… Overworked entrepreneur Jules Martinez is sick and tired of men leaving her for their exes. Determined to wipe the giant, scarlet R for rebound off her forehead, she kicks off a yearlong vow of celibacy with five, blissful weeks backpacking her favorite trails through Washington State. Solo. Out-of-work financial analyst Evan Davenport hasn’t been happy since camping in Scouts as a kid—before his wealthy parents and now ex-fiancé made all his major life decisions. Hoping to find joy and purpose, he buys all the latest ultralight |
backpacking gear, flies to Washington, and sets off alone on a weeklong speed hike through the wilderness.
Mother Nature has other plans, though, and keeps shoving Evan and Jules in each other’s paths. Usually naked. When sparks fly, can they find what they’re looking for in life together instead of apart?
Mother Nature has other plans, though, and keeps shoving Evan and Jules in each other’s paths. Usually naked. When sparks fly, can they find what they’re looking for in life together instead of apart?
- SNEAK PEEK -
“I’m so jealous, Jules.” Bryn perched on the end of one of the beds in our hotel room at
Cascade Locks, watching me pack gear. The thin, gray light of pre-dawn filtered through a crack in gold curtains that’d seen better days.
I tucked a bag of snacks and my rain jacket into the top of my backpack, cinched the
drawcord, and buckled the lid with a solid click. “Of what, twelve guys dumping me for their exes in a row? I’m sure we could arrange that for you too. If you ever really start dating again.”
“Ha. Funny.” She toed my calf. “You’re taking five weeks off to go backpacking solo.
Who cares why?”
Tingles of excitement zoomed around in my chest and I flashed her a grin. “Yeah.
Dealing with zero assholes and zero clients for more than a month does sound pretty heavenly, doesn’t it?”
She grinned back. “Like I said, totally jealous. At least of your trip.” Her expression went serious. “I still can’t believe the next guy you date is gonna be unlucky number thirteen, though.”
“Yeah. I’ve thought about that. Probably too much. Definitely enough to jinx the next one for sure. So, I’m swearing off men for at least a year to restart the count.” I hesitated, the excitement buzz fading. “A year is enough time to consider it a clean dating slate, right?”
“Wait. You mean you’re swearing off dating, or swearing off sex too?”
“Yes. Both. All of it.” The last eight years had been nothing but suckage on the relationship front. It’d probably take more than a year to fix my shit. But nothing would change if I didn’t change something.
Bryn eyes widened. “You’re serious.”
“Dead.” Bending, I tugged the rough nylon laces of my left boot. The well-worn leather
snugged around my foot. “I’m never gonna figure out anything buried in too much work plus too many bad dates.”
“When did you decide this?”
“Last night.” I shouldered my pack and adjusted the straps until the familiar weight settled on the tops of my hipbones. “What I’ve been doing isn’t working. It’s time to take a big step back and focus on myself for longer than just a few weeks.”
“I guess that’s one way to break the pattern.” Bryn opened the door and we stepped outside into early morning stillness. “And yes, a year is definitely long enough to clean your dating slate.”
Fog tendrils drifted from the Columbia River across the half-empty parking lot. The air
hung thick with moisture and cedar and the sweet mustiness of damp soil. The best smell in the world after too many days breathing city fumes.
“I sure as hell hope so. If not, at least maybe I can figure out what to do about my business. I can’t keep working this much.”
We strolled across the lot side-by-side, the chill air nipping my skin through my nylon
hiking pants and shirt, waking me up. The sky glowed marigold behind the inky silhouettes of
the mountains.
“You’ll come up with a plan. You always do.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” We crossed the empty highway, walked a few
hundred yards and turned off. Gravel crunched under our soles. “And thanks for driving me down here from Seattle. And picking me up at the other end.”
“Of course. That’s what best friends are for.” She wrapped a hand around my arm and
leaned in, hugging one of my few body parts not covered by my backpack. “Though I still wish I was going with you. I could use a break from assholes and clients, too.”
The first golden rays of sunlight slanted through the tree branches, lighting the dirt road ahead. “We’ll have to plan a girlfriends’ trip once I get back.”
“I’m holding you to that.” Her warm hand tightened on my biceps. “Maybe we can convince Aly to come with us for once.”
I snorted. “We’ll get Aly on a backpacking trip when pigs fly. But I’m all for trying.”
A handful of parked cars and a dark brown trailhead kiosk appeared, marking the southern end of the Pacific Crest Trail through Washington. And my starting point. And the start of five weeks of solitary bliss in one of my favorite places in the whole world.
Bryn pulled out her phone. “Hey. Let me grab a shot of you in front of the sign, to commemorate the moment.”
“Okay.” I took a few steps back.
“Say, single life.”
I popped a hip and smiled for the camera. “Single life.”
“Perfect.” She slipped her phone into her pocket. “I love you, girlfriend. Stay safe out there and call me whenever you hit civilization.”
“I will.” My throat tightened. “I love you, too.”
I was totally looking forward to hiking solo. To enjoying time alone and figuring out my
craptacular situation with no distractions. But, for a second, I couldn’t help wondering if I should’ve taken Bryn up on her offer to hike this first section with me. Deep down I knew it would be a distraction, though. I needed alone time, in the woods, to find my center and do a serious assessment of my life. Especially my love life. Because I kept picking the same kind of winner, over and over, and I was done losing.
“See you in a couple weeks.” With a wave, I pivoted on my heel and stepped into the emerald glow of the Pacific Northwest rainforest. Happy with my choices. And looking forward to not having to do anything, at any set time, for anyone other than me.
Cascade Locks, watching me pack gear. The thin, gray light of pre-dawn filtered through a crack in gold curtains that’d seen better days.
I tucked a bag of snacks and my rain jacket into the top of my backpack, cinched the
drawcord, and buckled the lid with a solid click. “Of what, twelve guys dumping me for their exes in a row? I’m sure we could arrange that for you too. If you ever really start dating again.”
“Ha. Funny.” She toed my calf. “You’re taking five weeks off to go backpacking solo.
Who cares why?”
Tingles of excitement zoomed around in my chest and I flashed her a grin. “Yeah.
Dealing with zero assholes and zero clients for more than a month does sound pretty heavenly, doesn’t it?”
She grinned back. “Like I said, totally jealous. At least of your trip.” Her expression went serious. “I still can’t believe the next guy you date is gonna be unlucky number thirteen, though.”
“Yeah. I’ve thought about that. Probably too much. Definitely enough to jinx the next one for sure. So, I’m swearing off men for at least a year to restart the count.” I hesitated, the excitement buzz fading. “A year is enough time to consider it a clean dating slate, right?”
“Wait. You mean you’re swearing off dating, or swearing off sex too?”
“Yes. Both. All of it.” The last eight years had been nothing but suckage on the relationship front. It’d probably take more than a year to fix my shit. But nothing would change if I didn’t change something.
Bryn eyes widened. “You’re serious.”
“Dead.” Bending, I tugged the rough nylon laces of my left boot. The well-worn leather
snugged around my foot. “I’m never gonna figure out anything buried in too much work plus too many bad dates.”
“When did you decide this?”
“Last night.” I shouldered my pack and adjusted the straps until the familiar weight settled on the tops of my hipbones. “What I’ve been doing isn’t working. It’s time to take a big step back and focus on myself for longer than just a few weeks.”
“I guess that’s one way to break the pattern.” Bryn opened the door and we stepped outside into early morning stillness. “And yes, a year is definitely long enough to clean your dating slate.”
Fog tendrils drifted from the Columbia River across the half-empty parking lot. The air
hung thick with moisture and cedar and the sweet mustiness of damp soil. The best smell in the world after too many days breathing city fumes.
“I sure as hell hope so. If not, at least maybe I can figure out what to do about my business. I can’t keep working this much.”
We strolled across the lot side-by-side, the chill air nipping my skin through my nylon
hiking pants and shirt, waking me up. The sky glowed marigold behind the inky silhouettes of
the mountains.
“You’ll come up with a plan. You always do.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence.” We crossed the empty highway, walked a few
hundred yards and turned off. Gravel crunched under our soles. “And thanks for driving me down here from Seattle. And picking me up at the other end.”
“Of course. That’s what best friends are for.” She wrapped a hand around my arm and
leaned in, hugging one of my few body parts not covered by my backpack. “Though I still wish I was going with you. I could use a break from assholes and clients, too.”
The first golden rays of sunlight slanted through the tree branches, lighting the dirt road ahead. “We’ll have to plan a girlfriends’ trip once I get back.”
“I’m holding you to that.” Her warm hand tightened on my biceps. “Maybe we can convince Aly to come with us for once.”
I snorted. “We’ll get Aly on a backpacking trip when pigs fly. But I’m all for trying.”
A handful of parked cars and a dark brown trailhead kiosk appeared, marking the southern end of the Pacific Crest Trail through Washington. And my starting point. And the start of five weeks of solitary bliss in one of my favorite places in the whole world.
Bryn pulled out her phone. “Hey. Let me grab a shot of you in front of the sign, to commemorate the moment.”
“Okay.” I took a few steps back.
“Say, single life.”
I popped a hip and smiled for the camera. “Single life.”
“Perfect.” She slipped her phone into her pocket. “I love you, girlfriend. Stay safe out there and call me whenever you hit civilization.”
“I will.” My throat tightened. “I love you, too.”
I was totally looking forward to hiking solo. To enjoying time alone and figuring out my
craptacular situation with no distractions. But, for a second, I couldn’t help wondering if I should’ve taken Bryn up on her offer to hike this first section with me. Deep down I knew it would be a distraction, though. I needed alone time, in the woods, to find my center and do a serious assessment of my life. Especially my love life. Because I kept picking the same kind of winner, over and over, and I was done losing.
“See you in a couple weeks.” With a wave, I pivoted on my heel and stepped into the emerald glow of the Pacific Northwest rainforest. Happy with my choices. And looking forward to not having to do anything, at any set time, for anyone other than me.
- GIVEAWAY -
To ENTER you must comment below:
1. Why do you want to read Wild at Heart?
2. Have you read Stacy Gold before?
For extra entries share this post using the Facebook and Twitter buttons below. Good luck!
WINNERS:
Gift card: Romance Reader
Free book: Molly
Taina Aponte, the sole survivor of an arson fire that killed her family, was taken to safety in Puerto Rico by her grandmother to escape the wholesale destruction of The Bronx. Thirty years later the witch, still haunted by her memories, is back in the hood. She's inexperienced in urban magick and ill-prepared to battle the roving gangs of dhampirs and werewolves that that set The Bronx aflame and wrested control from the police. But time is running out to find those who set the fire—and why. Taina's search for the murderers uncovers a vast werewolf/dhampir conspiracy--and an alliance of |
fae to aid in her quest for justice. But needs more than the elderly santera who teaches her mysterious Santeria rituals.
She enters into an uneasy alliance with Arnaldo Arroyo, a reformed addict turned community activist who schools her his own special mix of sex magick and brujería.
The truths she uncovers shake her faith in everything and everyone she ever knew. Will she give up and run? Or will she accept the mandate of the orishas, restore the balance between good and evil--and take back the neighborhood?
She enters into an uneasy alliance with Arnaldo Arroyo, a reformed addict turned community activist who schools her his own special mix of sex magick and brujería.
The truths she uncovers shake her faith in everything and everyone she ever knew. Will she give up and run? Or will she accept the mandate of the orishas, restore the balance between good and evil--and take back the neighborhood?
- SNEAK PEEK -
A creature, waist high to Taina, with a Cheshire-Cat grin, a British accent, two iridescent blue wings, and a squat, leaf-green body materialized. His choice bits were barely concealed by a brown rag.
“What the fuck! A fairy in this human wasteland?”
Like a true New Yorker, he ignored the duplicate expletive. “Allow me to introduce myself. Bridge Rat, minion to Hawk Claw, Fairy King of New Yorke at your service, Lady Taina. I am in charge of this sector of The Bronx. My liege lord shall arrive in a moment.”
He bowed, and his arm gestured like he was sweeping the sidewalk. “I daresay the foul language you’ve acquired in such a short time bodes well for your ability to rise to your duties.”
Tonight couldn’t get weirder. First, she’d broken some punk’s nose. Now she’d dropped the F-bomb on a fairy. Twice. She didn’t give a shit about either transgression.
“Knock it off. The only court around here is on 161st Street and the Grand Concourse. This isn’t Camelot, and I’m not a lady. I’m a woman and don’t rise to do anyone’s duty.”
The fairy rustled his wings. Magick tingled along Taina’s spine and soothed the angst roiling in her gut since she’d gotten off the plane and into that fetid yellow cab at Kennedy airport two weeks ago.
“Ah, I beg to differ, my lady.” Bridge Rat turned his eyes skyward.
A majestic ruddy hawk glided to a landing on top of Ritual Rock. Another fae-induced shiver crawled down Taina’s back like a spider.
The haughty fairy king coalesced out of a rusty dust spiral. Red hair hung in wavy tendrils over his shoulders, obscuring much of a bare chest. Pointed ears, adorned with cuffs, spikes, and jeweled earrings, wiggled. A lime-green cape swept the gum-stained asphalt as he flitted toward her, bare, six-toed feet hovering only inches above the ground, maroon and ochre wings beating like a translucent heart.
Bridge Rat announced him. “Hawk Claw, King of The Fairydom of New Yorke.”
Hawk Claw alighted, swept the cape over one shoulder, and bowed. “Hail and welcome, White Witch. Long have we awaited your return.”
Yes, this night could get even weirder. “I think you must be confusing me with someone else. I’m brown and barely a witch at all.”
“On the contrary, Lady Taina. You are just beginning to realize your powers. We trust that Sir Arnaldo will be at your side during the impending battle.”
She suppressed a giggle at that image. “I’m just trying to get to the bottom of a mystery, then get my bottom out of the Fairydom of New Yorke.”
The fairies in PR were more like fireflies, quiet, silly, tricky. Of course, everything in The Bronx mutated to the most extreme degree possible.
“Fear not, it has been foreseen and will occur.” Hawk Claw pronounced, expressionless, like one who hasn’t had good news in a long time. “Bridge Rat will summon me and the others when the time comes.” He fluttered his wings, rose into the air, and transformed back into a majestic bird as he flew west over Ritual Rock toward the Manhattan skyline.
“What the fuck! A fairy in this human wasteland?”
Like a true New Yorker, he ignored the duplicate expletive. “Allow me to introduce myself. Bridge Rat, minion to Hawk Claw, Fairy King of New Yorke at your service, Lady Taina. I am in charge of this sector of The Bronx. My liege lord shall arrive in a moment.”
He bowed, and his arm gestured like he was sweeping the sidewalk. “I daresay the foul language you’ve acquired in such a short time bodes well for your ability to rise to your duties.”
Tonight couldn’t get weirder. First, she’d broken some punk’s nose. Now she’d dropped the F-bomb on a fairy. Twice. She didn’t give a shit about either transgression.
“Knock it off. The only court around here is on 161st Street and the Grand Concourse. This isn’t Camelot, and I’m not a lady. I’m a woman and don’t rise to do anyone’s duty.”
The fairy rustled his wings. Magick tingled along Taina’s spine and soothed the angst roiling in her gut since she’d gotten off the plane and into that fetid yellow cab at Kennedy airport two weeks ago.
“Ah, I beg to differ, my lady.” Bridge Rat turned his eyes skyward.
A majestic ruddy hawk glided to a landing on top of Ritual Rock. Another fae-induced shiver crawled down Taina’s back like a spider.
The haughty fairy king coalesced out of a rusty dust spiral. Red hair hung in wavy tendrils over his shoulders, obscuring much of a bare chest. Pointed ears, adorned with cuffs, spikes, and jeweled earrings, wiggled. A lime-green cape swept the gum-stained asphalt as he flitted toward her, bare, six-toed feet hovering only inches above the ground, maroon and ochre wings beating like a translucent heart.
Bridge Rat announced him. “Hawk Claw, King of The Fairydom of New Yorke.”
Hawk Claw alighted, swept the cape over one shoulder, and bowed. “Hail and welcome, White Witch. Long have we awaited your return.”
Yes, this night could get even weirder. “I think you must be confusing me with someone else. I’m brown and barely a witch at all.”
“On the contrary, Lady Taina. You are just beginning to realize your powers. We trust that Sir Arnaldo will be at your side during the impending battle.”
She suppressed a giggle at that image. “I’m just trying to get to the bottom of a mystery, then get my bottom out of the Fairydom of New Yorke.”
The fairies in PR were more like fireflies, quiet, silly, tricky. Of course, everything in The Bronx mutated to the most extreme degree possible.
“Fear not, it has been foreseen and will occur.” Hawk Claw pronounced, expressionless, like one who hasn’t had good news in a long time. “Bridge Rat will summon me and the others when the time comes.” He fluttered his wings, rose into the air, and transformed back into a majestic bird as he flew west over Ritual Rock toward the Manhattan skyline.
- GIVEAWAY -
To ENTER comment below:
1. What did you like about the sneak peek from Void Of Course?
2. Have you read Carole Ann Moleti before?
For extra entries share this post using the Facebook and Twitter buttons below. Good luck!
WINNERS:
Gift card: Vanessa
Free book: Linda
A lifetime of failed relationships. One huge risk. One sexy dominating man. What could go wrong? Based on true events: After a lifetime of frogs, Tilly sets out to find her own Prince Charming. But there's a catch. She wants her Prince Charming to be the ultimate dominating man. Not sure if this is possible, she follows her best friends' advice and ditches conventional dating sites for a steamy sex dating website. However, Tilly quickly realises reality is not like the fairy tales. As she battles with her inner feminist will she ever get used to his rules? And more importantly, what is he hiding? |
Perfect for fans of steamy romantic comedies, age gaps, the miscommunication trope and elements of BDSM. Prepare to embrace your deepest desires, fall in love with the ultimate dominating guy and learn to listen to your heart along the way.
The Girl Who Jumped is a hilarious, heart-warming and surprisingly moving story of a young woman pulling herself out of her comfort zone to get the life (and sex!) she's always wanted.
The Girl Who Jumped is a hilarious, heart-warming and surprisingly moving story of a young woman pulling herself out of her comfort zone to get the life (and sex!) she's always wanted.
- SNEAK PEEK -
I had an eighty percent chance of being murdered. Mum would have a heart attack if she knew. I’d called Amelia yesterday to warn her. She’d sounded calm on the phone, if a little proud. We’d agreed she’d raise the alarm if she’d not heard from me by nine a.m. tomorrow.
Before I could start imagining my funeral, my phone vibrated in my hand: Are you on time? You may answer yes or no. I closed my eyes briefly and stopped walking but a crowd of people spilling out of the Underground, propelled me forwards. I came to the side, out of the way. I put my hand on the cold metal railings overlooking the park and breathed out shakily. I texted back, Yes.
My phone vibrated instantly, Is your heart beating quicker? I gulped. It was. The tension over the last few hours had built to a fever pitch. I was having a tough time keeping calm. I replied, Yes. It was a blunt response but he liked it that way. The deal was no initiation of conversation or long-winded replies. He had a lot of rules.
I started walking again but stopped to look up at the sun shining through the thick canopy of trees above me. The day was cold and sunny. I should be glad to be alive. The next few hours were entirely of my own making. I’d visualised what I was about to do for months, dreamed about it for years and masturbated myself to sleep thinking about it. It was supposed to be fun.
I checked my phone. I had another message: You will check in first, as you want to get ready. I replied, Yes. He answered, Do you know where to go? I rolled my eyes and texted, Yes. Of course I knew where to go. How old was he? That’s why phones existed. I’d already checked the hotel’s location this morning. It was exactly two minutes from the Underground. I typed the postcode of the hotel into the map app, just to be sure, and followed the directions out of the park and across the main road.
One minute later, I stood in front of The World’s Tallest Hotel. Ivy clambered all the way up it. I looked down at my old blue suitcase and leggings. I was massively under-dressed. There was no point backing out now, though. It was now or never.
As I pushed open the heavy glass doors, a man waiting inside in a top hat and tails bowed deeply.
“Ma’am.”
I looked behind me in confusion.
“Ma’am?”
He meant me. I didn’t realise they welcomed everyone so nicely. I wasn’t rich or a celebrity.
“Hello, thank you.” I whispered, wishing my Yorkshire accent wasn’t so strong. “I’d like to check in please.”
“Yes, just this way, ma’am.”
Before I could start imagining my funeral, my phone vibrated in my hand: Are you on time? You may answer yes or no. I closed my eyes briefly and stopped walking but a crowd of people spilling out of the Underground, propelled me forwards. I came to the side, out of the way. I put my hand on the cold metal railings overlooking the park and breathed out shakily. I texted back, Yes.
My phone vibrated instantly, Is your heart beating quicker? I gulped. It was. The tension over the last few hours had built to a fever pitch. I was having a tough time keeping calm. I replied, Yes. It was a blunt response but he liked it that way. The deal was no initiation of conversation or long-winded replies. He had a lot of rules.
I started walking again but stopped to look up at the sun shining through the thick canopy of trees above me. The day was cold and sunny. I should be glad to be alive. The next few hours were entirely of my own making. I’d visualised what I was about to do for months, dreamed about it for years and masturbated myself to sleep thinking about it. It was supposed to be fun.
I checked my phone. I had another message: You will check in first, as you want to get ready. I replied, Yes. He answered, Do you know where to go? I rolled my eyes and texted, Yes. Of course I knew where to go. How old was he? That’s why phones existed. I’d already checked the hotel’s location this morning. It was exactly two minutes from the Underground. I typed the postcode of the hotel into the map app, just to be sure, and followed the directions out of the park and across the main road.
One minute later, I stood in front of The World’s Tallest Hotel. Ivy clambered all the way up it. I looked down at my old blue suitcase and leggings. I was massively under-dressed. There was no point backing out now, though. It was now or never.
As I pushed open the heavy glass doors, a man waiting inside in a top hat and tails bowed deeply.
“Ma’am.”
I looked behind me in confusion.
“Ma’am?”
He meant me. I didn’t realise they welcomed everyone so nicely. I wasn’t rich or a celebrity.
“Hello, thank you.” I whispered, wishing my Yorkshire accent wasn’t so strong. “I’d like to check in please.”
“Yes, just this way, ma’am.”
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