Archive for the ‘Excerpt’ Category

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It’s a thrill to be hosting Janelle Jalbert’s WINGDOG: Soul Pup, A Magical Mutt Memoir Cover Reveal Today!

Such a sweet cover. Sroll down to learn more!

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About the Book:

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Title: WINGDOG: SOUL PUP, A MAGICAL MUTT MEMOIR
Author: Janelle Jalbert
Publisher: Synchron8 Publishing
Pages: 359
Genre: Memoir

It’s love at first sight…for both of them. An abandoned yet tenacious pup with one blue eye and one brown eye beats the odds and is enlisted as one woman’s WINGDOG. It’s a role he takes seriously, but he knows that his human needs more than just another set of eyes and ears. He must show her how to laugh and how to love again. His loyalty knows no bounds, and he takes his duties seriously riding shotgun as the pair travel life’s highway.

A dog may be man’s best friend, but the truth is…A WINGDOG is truly a woman’s gift.
For readers who enjoy contemporary canine classics such as MARLEY & ME, THE ART OF RACING IN THE RAIN, and A DOG’S PURPOSE, Janelle Jalbert’s ‘Magical Mutt Memoir’ combines the best of these storytelling traditions. Told as a memoir – adhering to how events unfolded – one woman seeks establish a new life after moving across the country from California to North Carolina.

Her chance at a new normal arrives in the form of Goose, a pup that melts not only her heart but also the hearts of everyone that he meets. As they travel coast-to-coast and places in between, the bond that the two share proves that love and loyalty can transcend even the greatest of obstacles.

WINGDOG: SOUL PUP is a heart-warming, emotional – and oftentimes comical – tale of how one pup becomes the consummate WINGDOG only to transform into the ultimate Soul Pup.

For More Information

  • WINGDOG: Soul Pup, A Magical Mutt Memoir is available at Amazon.

Book Excerpt:

First Date

Yes, I slept with him on our first date. It felt so good to have his warm body against mine. He was gorgeous and sweet as slumber set in, and I couldn’t help but curl up closer. We were already doing our own version of spooning, just hours after meeting. Everything was once again right with the world thanks to his warmth by my side. It was a case of love at first sight that grew deeper in the darkness of the bedroom around us.

I couldn’t help but run my fingers through his fur as his brindled coat rose and fell with deep, sleep-filled breathing. His fur was the perfect texture, not too course but without fluff. The hairs behind his bouncy ears were already my favorite, so silky fine. He sighed as I continued rubbing up and down his side before once more scratching behind his ear. With the ear rubs, he pushed closer into me. His sixteen pound body firmly tucked at my hip.
Ah, I’m home.

I wasn’t sure if it was my thought because it could have easily come from the pup at my side. For the first time in weeks, I began to doze off, peaceful and content. The neighbor problems that plagued my previous weeks faded away with his comforting presence.

Sometimes it does all work out. Bad things can lead to great opportunities.

The stress of moving from California to North Carolina evaporated. The distress that plagued me eased. It was what I’d been craving: a chance to forget and to enjoy life again. It was what my soul needed. I sighed and let go. All was good, at last.

* * *

The day started like most of late when I got sidetracked by my inbox after clicking on the message. A small, brown puppy snuggled face-to-face with a tabby kitten appeared. The expression in the picture wasn’t curiosity. It was more like a big brother protecting a younger sibling. The other picture was of the same puppy looking up at the camera. His brown ears were as big as his head. The look in his eyes was that of questioning intelligence, and only the slightest hint of his blue left eye opposite the brown one showed. He seemed to know it was not simply a picture being taken.

It took less than thirty seconds. I was in love.

Immediately, I hit reply. He’s adorable. I’d love to meet him!

With that, a flurry of emails was exchanged. I rushed out into the silvery, fall day, filled with clouds. I stopped at the ATM before getting on the highway for the trip down to Rock Hill from Charlotte. It felt odd to pull money out to buy a dog. Granted, I rescued pups before, but this felt different. Then, it hit me. There’s something not all together right about exchanging money for a living creature’s spirit, and that thought caught me off guard.
“What’s that all about?” I muttered as I turned down the onramp to Highway 85, heading south. I shook off the feeling with the thought that it helped pay for his care rather than buying him per say.

As I made the transition to the 77 near uptown Charlotte, I started thinking of names for the pup. Angie named him ‘Ace of Spades’ or Ace for ease, but that wasn’t right. I knew that instantly. My dogs have always named themselves. He’ll let me know. I thought, but still names flitted through my mind.

What do I want from all this? That made me laugh. It’s a dog adoption, not a marriage. The truth was already apparent. This was going to be bigger than a simple custody transfer. The anxiety over recent events with neighbors at my apartment complex threatened to rear up again. I needed someone…something…to help watch my back. I wanted a right-hand man…a wingman…or, in this case, a ‘wingdog’.

That’s it! Goose. Like the wingman in Top Gun, he’d be my extra pair of eyes and ears. I loved it immediately and settled on it before remembering that the dog does the choosing.

“Okay, just keep it in mind,” I mumbled as I got off the highway and made a convoluted trip to the apartment. I texted Angie from the parking lot because I couldn’t make sense of the numbers in the complex, so she agreed to bring him down to meet me. I waited in the car for a few minutes, laughing at myself for having a bit of ‘first date’ jitters about meeting a puppy.

They seemed to appear out of nowhere and stopped at the end of the walkway.

I got out, and as soon as I cleared the bumper, he spotted me. It was magic – a connection in an instant – as he leapt towards me despite his leash. His eyes lit up like I’m sure mine did. With a big smile and open arms, I walked up to him at Angie’s side and said hello. He barely reached my kneecap, but his eyes were wide and bright. I dropped to my knee. Given my earlier thoughts about marriage, I chuckled and shook my head to clear the whole proposal analogy from my head. He nuzzled into me immediately and toppled me onto my rear.
Who are YOU? I haven’t seen you before. He did a once over with his nose. Yep, you smell nice. You’re a good one. How ya doin’?

I smiled ear to ear as I situated myself, sitting cross-legged so the little guy could sniff away at will. If that isn’t an enthusiastic yes, I don’t know what is. My heart swelled as his furry little body shivered with excitement. His wild tail matched the leaping in my chest. I looked into his wide, trusting eyes: one brown, the other blue. It was a match. You choose me too! I thought as I wrapped my arms around the brindled bundle showering me in warm wet pup kisses.

“We found him on the highway. He was in bad shape, but we nursed him back to health. He’s been dewormed too.”

He sat listening to the conversation like he would chime in at any time, sneaking glances at me as Angie debriefed me about his circumstances.

How could someone be so evil to such an adorable boy?

“Several people have come to look at him, but the brindle coloring gives the impression of a pit bull.” Angie sighed. “He’s incredibly friendly, but the people who’ve come to see him have scared him as well as my husband and me. It’s like he knows they’re not right. My husband and I figured they were looking for fighting dogs, or even bait dogs, when they start asking about his bloodlines.”

A chill traveled down my spine at the thought of people looking to sacrifice a loving creature for a blood sport.

Angie continued, “That’s why we’ve been saying that he’s a Jack Russell mix. We’re not sure though, and we can’t keep him anyway.” Angie went on to explain about their impending move as Goose scanned the yard of the apartment complex.

Hold on. His name isn’t Goose yet. I thought as my mind and heart made the leap. He gets a vote. Remember?
to chit-chat about, I opened the passenger’s side door and cradled him in my arms. His warmth traveled to my core as the soft bundle of brown, black and white fur rested close to my heart. A sigh escaped as I held him to my chest before placing him on the seat.

Shotgun! He perked up and sniffed the interior, which was already filling with the smell of kibble.

His investigation stopped abruptly and he stared at Angie and me. He knew something was different. This wasn’t a casual, meet-someone-on-a-walk encounter anymore. It was a strange new car. He looked at Angie. Thank you. I’m happy. She’s a good one.

Angie sighed.“Bye, Ace. You’re a good boy.”

He seemed to smile as he stretched, puffing out his puppy chest. Then he got distracted by the straw to my iced coffee. He was at ease, and inside of two hours, I became a pup mom. Life wasn’t going to be the same again.

About the Author

Janelle Jalbert

Janelle Jalbert had two light bulb moments at the age of 10. One involved teaching. She began teaching her stuffed animals daily lessons after school. The other was the result of an obsession with reading. Just like her dad, Janelle loved to plow through books like any child racing to the presents under a tree on Christmas morning. Her favorite YA series featured a main character that aspired to be a writer, and Janelle exclaimed “I wanna do that!”

Flash forward to a decade or so later, Janelle pursued her love of teaching, but her passion for writing remained a glowing ember. It took a car accident to get Janelle writing once again. She wrote and published Success Skills for Middle and High School Students (2001) to help her students with their major educational transitions. Not one to do the same old thing as everyone else, Janelle had a hint of things to come when she was looking for a “different” topic to focus on for her master’s thesis. She was drawn to Magical Realism. Years later, she blended her love for helping others and creative entrepreneurialism with her writing and contributed a chapter to
Conscious Entrepreneurs (2008). It was another hint of what was to come for Janelle with the theme for her segment in the anthology being a call to take charge of your life by becoming the star of your life by step into your own spotlight.

It sounds simple enough, but Janelle’s journey towards fulfilling her early dream was not that straight-forward…for either better or worse. After transitioning from the traditional classroom to online teaching and moving from K12 to university teaching, Janelle decided to pursue a doctoral program. While juggling teaching, studies, and growing a college admissions counseling business, Janelle had another light bulb moment during a trip to a NASCAR race weekend in Fontana.

Janelle and her sister were always around cars and loved racing. One of their rituals was making the trek to racing events in Southern California. That morning in the spring of 2009, Janelle watched people walking in and out of the garage as practice sessions were going. Again, she heard the voice “I wanna do that!” Given that she was teaching English and doing studies in education, it was a fleeting moment that she quickly forgot.

Three months later, after covering graduate schools in the Los Angeles area for examiner.com, Janelle got a wild idea. She asked her editor in education for the sports editor’s contact information and pitched him the role of Southern California Motorsports Examiner. Not only did she land the position, she was also named NASCAR Truck Series Examiner. By the time that NASCAR returned to Fontana that fall, Janelle was working the garage as a reporter and photographer. In fact, it wasn’t until she was halfway through her first morning there that she remembered what happened during the spring race. It was a little bit of magic, a touch of nerve, and some talent that had Janelle smiling that October day. Janelle went on to travel the country covering motorsports, including moving to North Carolina for an extended period, while still teaching and pursuing graduate work.

The unlikely fairytale story did not an easy happily-ever-after ending though. As her fortieth birthday approached, the rumblings of a major life change began. Even though Janelle loved teaching, she realized that education was not where she needed to be. Then the universe reaffirmed her belief when her teaching position was phased out. Though Janelle was already growing a small business startup, she struggled to find her footing.

Months later, Janelle walked out of a local restaurant and was hit with a story idea that grabbed her. She hadn’t worked on fiction since she was a teen, but the story kept screaming to her. Another voice gave her pause though. “You need to do it in 30 days.” It seemed illogical and even melodramatic. (No, it wasn’t a NANOWRIMO challenge
either.) Still, she began drafting. It flowed, even if it wasn’t in linear fashion, and Janelle felt the fire back in her life.

Then, Janelle learned why there was a 30-day warning. She was about 90% done with the draft when her father went to the hospital. He was diagnosed with a brain tumor and had surgery days later. Though he pulled through the procedure, doctors explained that he had multiple advanced cancers. In the weeks that followed, Janelle finished the draft while her dad battled cancer. He was too ill to read it and passed on New Year’s night. The person who gave Janelle the love of the written word was gone, but life was to take a few more turns.

By spring, Janelle pursued writing in all types of formats, from copywriting and ghostwriting to other genres, to pay the bills. In March, she submitted to Flash Fiction Magazine and was published on the first attempt. A month later, she took another leap and pitched a book to another publisher. The topic was rejected, but they asked if she had any expertise in the other areas that they were seeking. By the end of the week, Janelle had a book contract to write Wine for Beginners. While drafting that book, Janelle also asked to contribute on a regular basis to Flash Fiction Magazine which led her to develop a collection of stories.

Within months, Janelle finished the draft of Wine for Beginners. After finalizing the submission, she poured a glass of bubbly and went to celebrate with her mother and sister. The elation did an immediate 180. Instead of toasting for a much needed celebration, she was helping her sister prepare to go to the emergency room. Less than 12 hours after pouring the glass of bubbly, Janelle’s sister lost her fight with complication from a life-long disability.

So, Janelle’s still working on that happily-ever-after ending. In November 2014, Janelle publishing a collection of flash fiction title Flash 40: Life’s Moments. Wine for Beginners was released in 2015, and the novel, Triangulating Bliss, which rekindled Janelle’s writing passion is due for release in the Fall of 2015.

Janelle currently resides in Southern California, with her pack of pups. When the dogs allow, Janelle regularly returns to her second home of sorts in North Carolina. Her interests are diverse and keep life interesting by giving her experiences that make great stories. More than likely, you can find Janelle enjoying a good wine with friends, feeding her wanderlust beast, or giving into her guilty pleasure of a HEA story in film or written form.
Her latest book is the memoir, WINGDOG: Soul Pup, A Magical Mutt Memoir.

For More Information

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For a list of my reviews go HERE

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Want to get started on this exciting series?

Drasmyr is currently free! Go HERE to grab your copy!

You can click on the book covers below to see the series.

And don’t forget to enter. the giveaway!

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From The Ashes Of Ruin Series

by Matthew D. Ryan

FromTheAshesOfRuin Drasmyr  FromTheAshesOfRuin children lubrocious  FromTheAshesOfRuin Sceptre

Genre: Fantasy

Synopsis

We vampires do not make easy prey. Our weaknesses are few, our strengths many. Fear is something we do not know, and death but a distant memory. So tread softly, pray to your god, and gird yourself with silver when the moons arise and night’s dark prince awakens. We fear not the wizard, nor the warrior, neither rogue, nor priest; our strength is timeless, drawn from darkness and we know no master save the hot lust of our unending hunger. We long for blood, your blood and no blade, nor spell, nor clever artifice, can keep us long from our prize. Feel our teeth at your throat, your life ebb from you, and know as darkness comes to claim you that the price of your folly is your everlasting soul.

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Enjoy this excerpt from Drasmyr

There’s a woman in chain mail standing across the room from me; her sword is leveled at my chest. I can smell the enchantment on the blade, it’s a strong one; maybe even strong enough to cause me harm. Still, I’m not too concerned; it’s at least a ten foot lunge and I know I move faster than she does. Indeed, she’s the one who is looking worried. My display of strength and the death of her comrade have shaken her resolve.

She’s got a pretty face, flushed with excitement but strong and in control. It is her neck that really draws me, though, so soft and inviting, filled with the warm blood I desire. The curve of her flesh glistens, waiting for a well-placed gentle kiss.

She’s breathing rapidly now, her breath coming in shallow gasps. Her trek up through the castle has sapped much of her strength. And the fear she feels is naked in her eyes. Now, she’s

getting ready to pounce, just a little too much tension in her stance, her eyes just a little too focused. She couldn’t give me more warning if she were to ask my permission first.

She moves in with remarkable speed, her blade striking out like a serpent’s tongue. Even winded, she still manages to cut my cape, then prances away with her back toward the wall, ready for anything. Anything, except me.

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AUTHOR Bio and Links:

FromTheAshesOfRuin author

 

Matthew D. Ryan lives in northeastern New York on the shores of Lake Champlain. He has been deeply involved in the fantasy genre for most of his life as a reader, writer, and game designer. His writing has been featured at Aphelion.com and YesteryearFiction.com. He is the operator of the web-site matthewdryan.com which features his blog, “A Toast to Dragons,” (http://matthewdryan.com/a-toast-to-dragons-the-blog/) a blog dedicated to fantasy literature, and, to a lesser extent, sci-fi. He is the author of the dark fantasy novels “Drasmyr,” “The Children of Lubrochius,” and “The Sceptre of Morgulan,” as well as a growing number of fantasy short stories including: “Haladryn and the Minotaur,” “The River’s Eye,” and “Escape.”

Drasmyr: Smashwords / Amazon / B&N

The Children of Lubrochius: Smashwords / Amazon / B&N

The Sceptre of Morgulan: Smashwords / Amazon / B&N

 Author Mailing List / Website / Twitter / Facebook / Pinterest

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For a list of my reviews go HERE

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The Reader Banner copy

I’m excited to share The Reader with you today.

This is the third book in The Rifters Series.

Come on in and check it out.

Enjoy the peek inside the story.

And don’t forget to enter the giveaway!

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The Reader

The Rifters Series #3

by M. Pax

The Reader cover two

Genre: Fantasy

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Synopsis

With the rift closed for the season and no more monsters to fight, Daelin Long gets bored as librarian in the podunk town of Settler, Oregon. A job interview and her brother’s arrival present a tempting opportunity to escape, until her brother and her best friend, a ghost, disappear.

While Daelin searches for them, more mysteries pile up: dead people coming back to life, portraits of the town founders replaced with strange white trees, and people on the other side of the rift returning. It’s impossible. The portal that allows monsters from other universes to come to Earth is sealed until next summer.

The Rifters, a secret group protecting our world, believe the troubles are nothing more than the tantrums of an offended ghost. Daelin disagrees. If she’s right, the evil hell-bent on destroying Earth has new technology making the rift more deadly.

Before the monster summons the next apocalypse, Daelin must find it and destroy it.

Book 3 in the Rifter series.

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Excerpt

Earl Blacke put on a pair of optilyzers. They resembled aviator goggles from the 1920’s but performed a very different function. They had no buttons, operating by feeding off the energy of auras. Earl peered at Dante. His aura was nonexistent except for a few deep violet spikes. “Why aren’t you glowing like a purple alien candle?”

Dante bordered on fidgeting.

“Does this embarrass you?” Earl asked. “You don’t like showing your non-Earthly colors?”

“I can conceal my aura, and for your safety I do.” Dante lifted his chin and surveyed the clearing carefully. “I’m not the issue. Why you’re seeing your girl is.”

“What if whatever brought her here is masking its aura? You may not be the only thing with such an ability.”

Dante stopped so short, Earl smacked into him hard enough he had to back pedal two steps to regain his balance.

“I’m not a thing. I’m a sentient being with rights. Just like you.” Dante spat then continued to investigate.

“Since you’re not human, you don’t have human rights. What kind of rights are you talking about? Alienable rights, I suppose.” Unable to help himself, Earl guffawed as if he had never laughed in his life. It had been awhile since the urge tickled him.

Dante whirled and smacked Earl on the nose. “Get to work. If something is afoot, you’ve scared it into the next universe by now.”

Gripping his stomach, Earl fought to settle down. “What are we hunting for? You seem to have something in mind.”

“A purple glow. When you find it, holler.” He wiggled his fingers to get Earl moving. “Scatter, and don’t all go searching in the same place.”

~~~~~

Author M. Pax

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  1. Pax is author of the space adventure series The Backworlds and the urban fantasy series The Rifters. Fantasy, science fiction, and the weird beckons to her, and she blames Oregon, a source of endless inspiration. She ghost hunts for fun with a group of curiosity seekers, docents at Pine Mountain Observatory in the summers as a star guide, has a cat with a crush on Mr. Spock, and is slightly obsessed with Jane Austen.

Learn more at these links:

Website / Twitter / Facebook

See what inspires The Rifters on Pinterest : https://www.pinterest.com/mpaxauthor/the-rifters/

The first two books in the Rifters series can be read for free by becoming an M. Pax Reader. at – http://mpaxauthor.us11.list-manage.com/subscribe?u=5e298cfbe42080a411dcdd9a3&id=c01a285202

Amazon

AmazonUK / AUS / CA / DE / FR / ES / IT / NL / JP / BR / MX / IN

Bookcessories

iBook / Nook / GooglePlay / Kobo / Smashwords / inktera / Scribd

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For a list of my reviews go HERE

For a list of free eBooks updated daily go HERE

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DeadInAPark_Banner copy

I’ve got a great mystery series to share today.

Have you read a Leah Norwood story yet?

Dead In A Park is the second book in this series.

Check it out.

And don’t forget to enter the giveaway.

Dead In A Park

by B.L. Blair

DeadInAPark cover

Genre: Mystery / Romance

Synopsis

When Leah Norwood finds the body of Donald Collins in the city park, she doesn’t know he is a distant relative. Young Donnie was a jewel thief and a career criminal. Hidden in the lining of his suit jacket was an exact replica of a ring that has been in Leah’s family for over a hundred years. After her home is burglarized, the sexy chief of police is convinced the ruby ring has something to do with the murder.

Leah wants to find out what happened to Donnie, but why would someone kill for a hundred year old ring? She discovers a connection between Donnie and the drug-dealing Cantono family, between the Cantono family and a jewelry appraiser, and between the jewelry appraiser and one of her own employees. Chief Griggs might be onto something. All clues lead back to the family ring.

Excerpt

“Was he murdered?” I asked softly.

“Oh, yes. It was murder,” Griggs replied.

The last time I found a body it had never occurred to me that the police would consider me a suspect. As a law-abiding citizen, I had just assumed that people knew I was innocent. My experience with the police showed me I was wrong. I looked at both Griggs and Reddish.

“Please tell me you don’t think I killed him.”

Griggs snorted. “No, we don’t think you killed him. He was taller than you, and his neck was broken. No way could you have done that.”

“It was fast and neat,” Reddish added and then turned to Griggs. “Probably someone with military or combat training.”

“Someone who knows how to kill with their hands,” Griggs said softly.

I swallowed. Candace had shot and killed two people in December and tried to kill me twice. She had been crazy, her behavior unexpected and unpredictable, which had made the situation scary. This sounded worse. A person who was calm and rational murdering someone with their bare hands was chilling. And I couldn’t forget about the weird shoe thing.

“Did you find his shoes?”

“No,” Griggs replied, turning toward me.

“Why would someone want his shoes?”

“Who knows? There wasn’t much of a struggle, although there were multiple sets of footprints. But all appeared to be made by people wearing shoes.” He turned away from me and back toward Reddish. “Between Leah and her dog stomping around, I doubt we’ll get any viable footprints.”

“Hey,” I said indignantly. Both men ignored me.

“Let’s keep the area secure anyway,” Griggs continued. “Send a team out to see if they can find anything. Maybe the shoes will show up somewhere else in the park.”

 

AUTHOR Bio and Links:

DeadInAPark author

L. Blair writes simple and sweet romance and mystery/romance stories. Like most authors, she has been writing most of her life and has dozens of books started. She just needs the time to finish them.

She is the author of the Holton Romance Series and the Leah Norwood Mysteries. She enjoys reading books, writing books, and traveling wherever and as often as time and money allows. She is currently working on her latest book set in Texas, where she lives with her family.

Website / Twitter / Facebook / Blog / Leah Norwood Mysteries blog

Buy Links for Dead in a Park

Amazon / iBooks / B&N / Kobo / Smashwords

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Teaser Tuesdays is a weekly bookish meme, hosted by MizB of A Daily Rhythm.

TeaserTuesdays2014e

Anyone can play along! Just do the following:
• Grab your current read
• Open to a random page.
•Share two (2) “teaser” sentences from somewhere on that page
BE CAREFUL NOT TO INCLUDE SPOILERS! (make sure that what you share doesn’t give too much away! You don’t want to ruin the book for others!)
• Share the title & author, too, so that other TT participants can add the book to their TBR Lists if they like your teasers!

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My Teaser for this week is from

 H20

by Virginia Bergin

26216193

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My Teaser from page 80 in the paperback.

1. “Quarantine” makes it sound as if you might come out alive (you won’t); and

2. I’ve never seen or heard of anyone who lasted longer than three hours. Max.

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Read on if you want to know more.

Synopsis

.27 IS A NUMBER RUBY HATES.

It’s a number that marks the percentage of the population that survived. It’s a number that means she’s one of the “lucky” few still standing . And it’s a number that says her father is probably dead.

Against all odds, Ruby has survived the catastrophic onset of the killer rain. Two weeks after the radio started broadcasting the warning “It’s in the rain. It’s fatal, it’s contagious, and there’s no cure,” the drinkable water is running out. Ruby’s left with two options: persevere on her own, or embark on a treacherous journey across the country to find her father–If he’s even still alive.

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How about you? Got a tease? Tell me!

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Blind Shuffle

by Austin Williams

on Tour Nov 2 – 13, 2015

“I wanted to take a bite out of BLIND SHUFFLE before breakfast but ended up reading straight through lunch. I finished it on a plane to Tijuana. This was my first Rusty Diamond novel…it won’t be my last. Dig in.”

—Patrick Hasburgh, creator of 21 JUMP STREET

Synopsis

Far from the neon lights of Bourbon Street, heinous crimes are being committed against young women, and a street magician seeks to pull off his greatest trick by staying alive long enough to see justice done. The stage is set for a New Orleans noir perfect for fans of James Lee Burke and George Pelecanos.

Rusty Diamond abandoned the Crescent City years ago to pursue fame in Las Vegas, leaving Marceline Lavalle, the daughter of his mentor, with a broken heart. Now Rusty has come back to make amends with his former teacher and his first love—but Prosper Lavalle won’t face him, and no one has seen Marceline for days.

Five months pregnant, Marceline’s vanished without a trace. Her estranged boyfriend, a casino boss with criminal ties and a hair-trigger temper, claims no knowledge of her whereabouts. With the police not yet ready to declare foul play, Rusty launches his own investigation.

The search for Marceline will take Rusty into the darkest corners of New Orleans, where enormous profit can be made from human misery, where desperate people hunt on the fringes, and where not all magic is sleight of hand. It will force him to confront the mistakes of his past, and offer him a shot at redemption. And it will leave him—if he’s not careful—at the bottom of a bayou.

Genre: THRILLER/MYSTERY.

Published by: Diversion Books

Publication Date: October 20th, 2015

Number of Pages: 266

ISBN: 1626817782 (ISBN13: 9781626817784)

Series: 2nd Rusty Diamond Novel

Purchase Links: Amazon Barnes & Noble Goodreads

 

Read an excerpt:

Excerpted from Chapter 1

The brunette hadn’t said a word the whole flight. Rusty detected an aloof vibe from the moment he took an aisle seat next to her when boarding the 737 in Baltimore. He made a cursory stab at conversation and got only an annoyed shake of the head. From the preflight safety spiel through takeoff and into cruising altitude, his comely seatmate did a fine job of acting like he wasn’t there.

It didn’t bother Rusty, but it made him curious. He wasn’t the easiest guy to ignore, based on appearance alone.

The brunette’s refusal to even glance at him rendered an uneasy feeling that he’d somehow become invisible. She looked up from her laptop only twice—both times to tell the flight attendant she’d like another glass of Pinot Grigio.

Maybe it’s the tattoos, Rusty thought.

He’d taken off his leather jacket and stuffed it under the seat, wearing a black t-shirt underneath, leaving the snaking vines of symbols and incantations covering both arms from shoulder to wrist open to plain view. His seatmate didn’t look like the kind of woman apt to recoil from some well-inked body art, but then it was sometimes hard to tell.

They occupied the two port seats in row 3. First class, the way it ought to be, located in front of the gangway and separated by a curtain from coach. Rusty was no snob, but after shelling out more than a grand to upgrade his ticket, he felt the difference should be noticeable.

He scratched his goatee and pondered draining another glass of scotch. The dimly-lit cabin filled with searingly bright illumination, making him blink. Huge flashes of lightning strobed through the windows, followed by an ominous roll of thunder deep enough to induce vibrations in his seat.

The brunette jerked her head up from her laptop to raise the window shade. Her posture had gone rigid. Rusty turned to look over her shoulder. A menacing mass of dark clouds filled the oval glass partition, pierced by another burst of lightning.
The brunette pulled down the shade and recoiled into her seat. Rusty suddenly understood the source of her withdrawn demeanor.

She’s scared out of her wits.

Not an unjustified reaction, on this flight. The first two hours had passed calmly enough, but they ran into the outer rim of a massive cyclonic event shortly after entering Louisiana airspace. The “fasten seat belts” sign came on with a ping as the captain casually intoned over the intercom things might get a bit choppy between here and the tarmac.

That proved to be an understatement. For the past half hour, this 737 felt more like an ill-conceived amusement park ride than an airliner. Rusty had only flown through one serious storm before, years ago, and at the time he was so blasted on muscle relaxants and champagne he’d found it more entertaining than frightening. He was enjoying this flight considerably less.

“Shit!” his seatmate yelped as the plane banked ten degrees to the right, sending a splash of Pinot Grigio onto her laptop. The glass rolled off the tray table as its emptied contents trickled down the computer screen.

“Christ, I hate flying,” she said with an embarrassed glance at Rusty. “Did I spill on you?”

“Nah. Just missed me.”

He reached down to retrieve the errant glass and set it on her tray table. “Dead soldier, I’m afraid.”

“Doesn’t make any difference. I could hammer back a whole bottle and I’d still be a wreck.”

“It was supposed to be a clear evening, at least when I checked at BWI. Then again, I learned a long time ago not to trust the weather where we’re going.”

“Do you live in New Orleans?” she asked. “Used to. This is my first visit in a while.” The plane bucked again, harder than before. “Oh Jesus,” the brunette muttered, gripping the seat divider. Rusty saw her expending great effort to maintain a polished
facade, and failing. He couldn’t help but sympathize. “I’m a little nervous myself,” he said, leaning just a bit closer. “But not about getting there safely. That’s the least of my worries.” She looked at him with new interest, a trace of the fear removed from her eyes. “Why’s that?”

Rusty paused before answering. He saw no reason to confide in this stranger, other than passing the time a bit faster before they landed.

“I plan to visit some people I haven’t seen in a long time. They don’t know I’m coming, and I have no reason to think they’ll be glad to see me.”

“Do they owe you money or something?” she asked, amused by the question.

“Just the opposite. I owe them a hell of a lot, more than I can ever repay. Especially the old man. He taught me my trade, asked for nothing except loyalty.”

Rusty paused before adding, “I let him down. His daughter too.” “So you’re coming to ask their forgiveness?” The question hit a nerve. A sense of obligation cutting deeper than common regret had propelled Rusty from his comfortable rented home in coastal Maryland, all the way to the airport in Baltimore and into the first class cabin of this airliner. When he actually reached New Orleans and looked Prosper Lavalle in the eye for the first time in more than half a decade… he had no idea what might happen at that point.

“I just want to clean things up, if possible.”

He turned to his seatmate and detected an innate kindness in her face, tucked away beneath the glossy veneer.

“I hope it goes well,” she said. “People can forgive a lot if you’re sincere in asking for it. Seems like you are.”

“I appreciate that,” he replied, offering his hand. “My name’s Rusty.”

She reciprocated with a businesslike shake. “Erin.” Another jolt to the cabin caused her hand to close tightly on his. Five lacquered nails dug into his skin in a way Rusty didn’t entirely dislike.

“God, I fucking hate this,” Erin said hoarsely. “Last time I ever get on a plane, guaranteed.”

“This is a homebound flight, then?” She nodded. “I’m a sales rep for Revlon. When I interviewed for the job I told them: no travel. So far they’ve honored that, but I really felt pressured to make the convention in Baltimore.”

“We’ll be all right,” Rusty said, looking at his watch and noticing she hadn’t freed his hand. “Less than an hour, you’ll have Louisiana soil beneath your feet.”

“I might just kiss it.” A new ping on the intercom claimed their attention. “Hey folks, this is Captain Thompson. I want to apologize for that last little dip. We ran into a microscale atmospheric gradient, also known as a wind shear. That tends to happen more often during clear air turbulence, but stormy conditions can sometimes produce the same result. Our aircraft is equipped with a reliable on-board detection system, so it’s extremely uncommon for us to fly directly into one of these pesky things. That wasn’t a very big one, even if it felt like it. Unfortunately the scope and severity of this storm may have confused our system regarding its exact location.”

“Very reassuring,” Erin said, clutching Rusty’s hand tighter.

“I’m guessing that’s not part of the airline’s approved spiel,” he answered.

“Not to worry,” Captain Thompson continued. “We’re lowering our altitude now as we approach our initial descent. This should cut down on the turbulence signifi—”

The plane banked hard, fifteen degrees to the left. Rusty and Erin tipped toward the window in unison. She cried out briefly before clamping her mouth shut. More than a few startled noises arose within the first class cabin, with one full-out scream emanating from coach.

“Just sit tight, folks,” the captain cautioned over the intercom, sounding noticeably less relaxed. “We’ll be out of this soon. It might not be the smoothest landing in aviation history, but we’ll get you on the ground as quickly and safely as possible.”

Erin had released Rusty’s hand, both of hers folded tightly in her lap. A trickle of sweat ran from her brow, sending a runny line of mascara down her cheek.

“Shit, shit, shit,” she muttered in a strained whisper. “Say something to me, please.”

“What would sound good right about now?” “Anything, doesn’t matter. Just take my mind off this.” Rusty considered offering some statistics about the safety of flight as opposed to other forms of transportation, but that wasn’t what was called for. What this woman needed was some misdirection.

“Look me in the eye, Erin.” In response to her wary glance, he added: “Trust me, this is a great distraction.”

“OK.”

“Good. I want you to think of someone. Someone you know personally. Don’t tell me who it is, just form a clear picture of this person in your mind.”

She took a deep breath, closing her eyes. Then she opened them and said, “OK, I’ve got someone.”

“All right. Now give me both hands.”

She hesitated as he held his own hands out, palms up, then did as he’d asked. Rusty closed his fingers around each hand, pressing gently on the webbed flesh located between her thumbs and forefingers. He felt the inner play of muscles and tendons as her pulse slowed by degrees.

“OK. You’re thinking of a man, that’s obvious.” She gave a wan nod. “Fifty-fifty chance of getting that one right.” “I’ll try to get a little more specific. Keep looking me in the eye.” Rusty’s thumbs pressed more closely, feeling out the part of her hands known in medical texts as the thenar eminence. He picked up on each tiny throb, felt the muscles tense and relax in sequence as his touch grew heavier.

Reading her gaze, he spoke with better than moderate confidence:

“This guy’s name begins with an M.”

A small spark lit Erin’s eye, and he saw her smile for the first time.

“Not bad,” she said, “but come on. You had a 1-in-26 chance of getting that right. Probably one of the more common letters in a first name.”

Rusty heard the words, but kept his focus on the way she was unconsciously communicating with him. The faint wrinkling of her nose, a tightening of the jawline so minute as to be undetectable by anyone who hadn’t spent years studying the vast range of facial and bodily gestures people employ to transmit information without being aware of it.

“It’s not Matt,” he said. “No, definitely not. And it’s not Martin.”

Erin replied with a nod, sensing that to speak would offer an unintended clue.

“I won’t even bother asking if it’s Monty. And Mycroft is a long shot, unless his parents are really into Sherlock Holmes.”

“You’re just fishing now.”

That was partially true, but in replying Erin supplied him with another telling bit of insight—the emphasis she placed on the first syllable of fishing.

“Nope,” Rusty answered casually as he released her hands. “I knew his name was Michael all along.”

He let that hang there for a moment, clocking her reaction. The smile that grew on Erin’s face, free of any tension or anxiety, made up for her earlier standoffishness.

“He goes by Michael, right? Not Mike.” “Michael it is. I’m impressed.” “And he’s your…fiancé. Yeah. Probably waiting to greet you at the airport with a big kiss.” Now the smile changed shape, widening to express something beyond passing amusement. “Not bad. So you’re, what, a magician?” Rusty was pondering an adequate reply to that question when the 737 hit a massive wind shear at two hundred miles per hour. The plane’s nose buckled down sharply like it had been nailed with a gigantic fly swatter.

Erin screamed. A genuine scream, pulled from her lungs with the force of real terror, and hers wasn’t the only one.

Multiple bags tumbled from overhead containers jolted open by the drop. A service cart near the flight deck rolled from the galley into the aisle on spinning wheels, its brake set loose. A plump flight attendant fell to her knees trying to stop a heavy roller bag from falling onto an elderly man in 4C. The attendant’s head struck the metal edge of an armrest, opening up a deep gash. Blood sprayed from the wound, prompting a fresh volley of screams from the first class cabin. The noise coming from coach sounded like a packed theater in the middle of a particularly intense horror movie.

Another first class attendant ran to assist his partner, yelling for calm over the panicked cries. It was a futile effort, even the captain’s voice on the intercom was lost in the din.

Rusty and Erin huddled in their seats, arms wrapped around each other in an instinctive clinch. The cabin trembled and heaved, everything rattling hard enough to loosen hinges and splinter apart.

The 737 kept dropping into a sharp dive for well over a thousand feet. Three thousand. Five. The engine roar overlapped what sounded like a hurricane raging outside the shuddering windows. It seemed to go on and on, as if the ground below kept racing away to delay the inevitable, catastrophic impact.

Finally, Rusty felt the cabin start to level out. He and Erin were shoved back into their seats as the plane’s nose pushed upward. Some measure of calm returned to the first class cabin.

“Flight personnel be seated immediately,” Captain Thompson resumed on the intercom, his voice hardened to a drill instructor’s bark. “Suspend normal cross-check.” The wounded flight attendant lowered herself into a galley seat. She pressed a towel seeped in red to her face and strapped on an over-the-shoulder safety belt. Her partner scrambled into the adjacent seat. Rusty clutched Erin tightly, feeling her heartbeat hammering against his chest. His eyes blinked shut against another burst of lightning off the plane’s port side. He felt no particular fear. He sensed, on a gut level that had nothing to do with logic, this plane would reach the ground safely.

I know it, without knowing why.

Secure in his intuition of momentary safety, Rusty inhaled deeply, allowing oxygen to fill his lungs at a slow controlled pace. He felt completely alive. He felt good. Yet at the same time, he couldn’t entirely dismiss an unnerving sense that whatever awaited him down on the Louisiana soil threatened him more gravely than the prospect of crashing to it from high above.

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Author Austin Williams

authorAustin Williams is the author of The Rusty Diamond Series of crime thrillers published by Diversion Books. The second novel in the series, Blind Shuffle, was released in October 2015.

Other books by Williams include the cult suspense novels Crimson Orgy and The Platinum Loop. He is the co-author (with Erik Quisling) of Straight Whisky: A Living History of Sex, Drugs and Rock ‘n’ Roll on the Sunset Strip.

He lives in Los Angeles.

Catch Up:
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Tour Participants


Giveaway

. This is a giveaway hosted by Diversion Books for Austin Williams. There will be 8 winners of 1 eBook copy of Blind Shuffle by Austin Williams. The giveaway begins on November 2nd, 2015 and runs through November 13th, 2015. a Rafflecopter giveaway

 

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Four_Banner
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Welcome to my tour stop for Four (Their Dead Lives #1) by Zack Scott. This is a zombie apocalypse horror, comedy, action & adventure. The tour runs October 12-23 with reviews, interviews, guest posts and excerpts. Check out the tour page for the full schedule.

FOUR

Their Dead Lives #1

by Zack Scott

A tragic past. A destined reunion. A decaying hope.
In Southern California, four friends must face a haunting nightmare from high school in order to save the future of humanity. But will their personal conflicts get in the way? Battling for survival, these fated four will choose whether to follow a destined path or continue their dead lives, while the zombie apocalypse feeds them one cliche after another.
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Enjoy this glimpse inside Four from the Evans Chapter!
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Roaring, Evans rolled on his side and unloaded most of his clip as the zombies neared. A few rotting corpses teetered off the dock, while too many others kept their pursuit.

Rolling back to the ocean, Evans reached in. Waves slapped his face. A hand broke the surface, snagging his wrist. He heaved to his feet and yanked Erica back on the dock with one tug. Thank you for being so light. Her body shivered against his and her lips shook the words, “We have to keep moving.”

Evans glanced at the sprinters closing in on them. A wave dragged a few more into the sea.

Erica’s body went weak and limp against him. He said, “We have to go!” But she seemed ready to pass out. He needed her alert, so he grabbed her head, wrapped his fingers through her drenched hair, and with his other arm outstretched, he aimed his pistol steadily, firing at the incoming sprinters.

Blocking out the storm, the bullets, and the onrushing undead, Evans pressed his lips to Erica. The world stilled as they stood in the eye of the storm. If only forever. The kiss seemingly helped Erica focus.

Feet slipped, moans swarmed, waves crashed, and then he finally saw it: the yacht at the end of the dock. Erica’s hand tightened around his, taut with hope. They glanced at one another and her wet lips parted into a beaming smile.

A strong urge gave him the desire to kiss—

The largest wave of them all rose high above the dock, then washed the yacht from their eyes.

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Author Zack Scott

Author Photo Zack Scott

Zack Scott is the author of THEIR DEADS LIVES, ONE PISSED OFF SHARK, and several short stories he wrote for the 2013 Flash Fiction Challenge, where he made it to the final round.Although he’s visited many areas in the world, Zack has lived in Southern California most of his life. He grew up in Los Angeles, attended undergrad at CSUCI in Ventura County, and completed law school down in sunny San Diego. More recently, he was living the startup life in Silicon Valley with the 500 Startups accelerator program. He is licensed to practice law in California, but more importantly he likes to hang his pants on his desk chair rather than his closet.

When he’s not writing stories, Zack can be found in a never-ending wrestling match with his dog Leo or cooking pasta while wearing a Chargers apron.

 
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$10 Amazon Gift Card (INT)
Ends Oct. 28th
This giveaway is sponsored by CBB Book Promotions, the hosts are not responsible for prizing.
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Click on the rafflecopter link below to enter.
 

a Rafflecopter giveaway

This event was organized by CBB Book Promotions.
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Visit other stops on the tour.

10/12
Jael’s Reviews – Excerpt
10/13
Book Bookish – Review
10/14
10/15
fuonlyknew – Excerpt
Candace’s Book Blog – Guest Post
10/16
10/19
Natural Bri – Review
10/20
10/21
10/22
10/23
I Read Indie– Excerpt
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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

To see all of my giveaways click on the lucky horseshoe below!

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Where WolvesTalk Banner

Lets go on a grand adventure.

Turn the page, open the door, and step into Where Wolves Talk.

Check out the fun cover and a glimpse inside this tale.

And don’t forget to enter the giveaway!

Where Wolves Talk

by D.L. Lewis

Where WolvesTalk Cover

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Synopsis

Kitten, an American tabby residing in England, is a frustrated cat. He knows his place in the world: he was born to kill. Killing, after all, is what felines are supposed to do. Confined within his Lady’s house, however, the young fellow is deprived of the opportunity to hunt live prey. The mansion is a sterile playground for a predator; offering nothing more than furniture which allows itself to be brutalized far too easily. The ambitious cat is bored and hungry for a challenge.

Kitten learns of a passage hidden in his Lady’s library: the Door, which leads to an unknown world. The cat has been told that the source of all evil dwells openly in this place. The feline is eager to fight the sinister personage and goes through the Door with no hesitation.

The tabby finds himself in what appears to be a forest like any other in England. It doesn’t take long for him to learn that this is a very different place.

Written in the basic style of classic stories like THE LORD OF THE RINGS, WATERSHIP DOWN, and THE CHRONICLES OF NARNIA, this novel can be appreciated on different levels. To some readers, it’s an allegorical tale: thought-provoking and filled with symbolism. To others, it’s an adventure-filled page-turner.

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Enjoy this glimpse inside the book!

Twilight was too short in this world; expressing itself in a brief moment of pale-purple light that came and went in a tantalizing flash. As the lavender glow vanished, darkest night swallowed the forest in a voracious bite; making it cry out in noises far colder than those of the warm pleasant morn: sounds dreadfully opposite to the birdsong and happy chatter that filled the wood earlier in the day. The force expressing itself now was redolent of hunger, fear, and longing: growls and whimpers punctuated by the staccato of scrabbling feet; whinings and whirrings that bespoke pursuit and flight; shrill screams articulating the futile desperation that comes before a violent end.

The fur along Kitten’s spine rose. Such terrors were foreign to a beloved house pet. In this wild, hungry place each and every bush could conceal a lurking predatory animal; a lion, perhaps, who would think nothing of making the cat into its evening meal. In his Lady’s house, the tabby had been king of beasts; the only beast, if truth be told, aside from an occasional mouse who might cross his path and flee at the sight of the tiny tiger. Excepting his Lady’s water atomizer, Kitten had found nothing to fear in his house. But this place: this wild, hungry place where a Shorthair counted as no more than a tasty dish; this wild, hungry place where rustlings and crunches seemed not mere noises but harbingers of impending death—this wild, hungry place was dreadful.

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AUTHOR Bio and Links

Where WolvesTalk Author

 D. L. Lewis lives in northern California with a cello, four cats, and a crow named Harold. Where Wolves Talk is her first published novel; followed by Something in the House—California Gothic, Doppelgänger, and Fighting Back.

Where Wolves Talk is on sale at 99 cents (for a limited time) at Kindle and iBooks.

Amazon / iTunes / Blog

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Dragons Guide _banner

Sometimes I like to go for books a bit outside my normal reading material. This is one of those books I’ll be reading.

Check out the stupendous cover art! That’s what first grabbed me.

Then read the blurb and the excerpt.

And let me know if the glimpse inside this book made you blush. I did. And then I giggled.

Dragon’s Guide To Slaying Virgins

An Otherworld Realms Novel

by Isabelle Saint- Michael

Dragons Guide cover

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Synopsis

Morgan had resigned herself to death. She had been ready to follow her true love into the afterlife, if only a certain Dragon hadn’t “rescued” her. She wasn’t grateful – after all, she was a full-fledged Lady Knight and perfectly capable of making her own decisions, without the help of arrogant Dragon Lords, no matter how good-looking everyone seemed to think they were…

After dragging Lady Morgan from a Troll’s lair and dropping her off in another realm, Vallen thought he’d never see her again. But then an old member of his Knight Order betrays her oaths and begins amassing an army of thugs and highwaymen – in the same realm he’d left Morgan.

Racing back with only his brother for a squire, Vallen finds Lady Morgan, accompanied by a teenage Werewolf, ready to take on this Dragon all by herself. But it will take all of them to defeat her, and little do they know that in this battle, the secrets of their broken hearts will rise up from the past and walk again…

Purchase Links

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Does this excerpt make you blush? LOL

“And like you, I lost the love of my life.” He reached up and absently stroked my hair down my back.

“Does it get easier and hurt less with time?” I asked.

“Yes, but it can take a very long time.” I closed my eyes at his words. I could picture Simon’s smiling face, his red hair falling free of its pony tail so that strands fell in his face. His eyes were so dark they were almost black, but they sparkled so when he smiled. A tear ran down my cheek. Vallen moved his hand and reached up to wipe it away. “I promise there will be justice for what Avery has done to you.”

I tried to smile, knowing he meant it. Right now, though, I didn’t want to think about Avery. “Thank you,” I whispered.

There was a knock on the door and then Young opened it without waiting for any word from us. He took one look at the two of us wrapped in each other’s arms and blushed clear through his scalp. He averted his gaze and walked close enough to set the clothes down on the chair. “I’m sorry, I didn’t expect… You and the Lady… and I’m leaving.” He grabbed the tray and disappeared back out the door before we could correct his misconception.

Vallen growled and lowered his arms from around me. “I’m sorry. He has the wrong idea and it’s my fault. I’ll go find him and explain.” He shifted and winced.

“Wait. You shouldn’t be up yet. I can go,” I offered.

He shook his head. “This is my fault.” With a deep breath he pushed himself out of bed and groaned in pain.

Without meaning to I raked my eyes over him. Every inch of his body was covered in thick muscle. He wasn’t bulging, but just looking at him you knew he was powerful. His body was covered in scars and bandages that told the tales of a life lived in the service of others. His dark hair had blue streaks in it, reminding me of a Fairy. His backside was like no backside I had ever seen in person. It looked like it should be made of stone and attached to a statue in Queen Mab’s palace. He turned, giving me full view of his manhood. I had always heard they grew when excited, but with his there in plain view I couldn’t imagine it growing larger, as it was already more than I would have ever known what to do with. He cleared his throat and my eyes flew up to meet his gaze. “My Lady, I believe my eyes are up here.”

I blushed and tugged the blankets over my head, wanting in that very moment to die after being caught staring. He must have finished dressing because I heard him cross the room, followed by the sounds of the door opening and closing. Only after my breathing had returned to normal did I push the blankets off of my head and struggle to the side of the bed.

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Author Isabelle Saint-Michael

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Isabelle’s  Website / Twitter Facebook Goodreads / YouTube
Isabelle Saint-Michael currently lives abroad in Seoul, South Korea with a transition in process to the UK.  Writing is now her full-time gig, but she spent a number of years working in the online media industry.  (That’s when she upgraded her personality software from socialite to geek.)
 Her hobbies include reading, shopping, travel, and medieval shenanigans with her closest friends.  She has earned such coveted nicknames as The Fighting Smurf, The Iz and Wiffle Ball Monkey Slayer.From the author: “The Elven Life is a blog connecting a series of books and characters that I have created.  So many times we buy books but then must wait a year at least to get another fix.  In a world of immediate gratification I wanted to build an interactive way of storytelling for my readers.  Each book, along with the blog, is a free-standing story, but they will occasionally have connecting themes, characters, and messages for our fans to catch.  Check us out and keep watching!  Books will be available through Amazon, Kindle, and a retailer near you.”

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Until the next time…..

Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew!

Today we are celebrating the release of BIRTHRIGHT, the fourth full-length novel in the award-winning Ivy Granger urban fantasy series by E.J. Stevens.  We have a special book excerpt, commenter prizes, and a HUGE swag giveaway.  So grab a cupcake and some punch.  It’s time to party!

Birthright by E.J. Stevens Ivy Granger urban fantasy series

Birthright (Ivy Granger #4) by E.J. Stevens

My Review

I started reading this knowing it was the fourth book in the series. I hadn’t read the other books but I usually don’t have a problem jumping into a series midstream. Not so with this one.

The author has built a fascinating world in her urban fantasy series and to fully appreciate and understand the plot, I’d like to have read this series from the beginning. I’m huge on kick butt female protagonists and Ivy Granger is a new favorite of mine. She’s tough, funny, somewhat vulnerable, and loyal to her friends.  I just wish I’d met her before so I could see her grow with each new trial she faced.

The story starts with Ivy being dead. Supposedly killed for past transgressions. The what’s and why’s are quickly explained so I was able to grasp the scenario.

As I read more, I stumbled some over the characters I met and how they were involved in Ivy’s life. This is where I almost stopped because I felt I needed to go back and start the series at the beginning. But, I didn’t want to stop. I was having fun and starting to feel like I was getting a grasp on some of the back story.

I’m glad I stuck with this book. Once I relaxed and just went with it, I was well entertained and left wanting more.

The writing is strong, the characters are genuine, and the action is fast and furious.

A good series for urban fantasy fans. I’d recommend you read this series from the beginning though. I didn’t and that’s my bad, so it didn’t affect my rating. I’ll be going back and picking it up from the start. It’ll haunt me until I know how it all began.

4 Stars

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Being a faerie princess isn’t all it’s cracked up to be…

Ivy must go to Faerie, but the gateway to the Wisp Court is through Tech
Duinn, the house of Donn—Celtic god of the dead. Just her luck.

Unable to share her secret with Jinx, and with Jenna called away on
Hunters’ Guild business, Ivy must rely on Ceff and Torn to lead her to
Death’s door, literally, and back again. As if that wasn’t dangerous
enough, there’s no saying what horrors lay in store within the Faerie
realm. Too bad the Wisp Court is the one lead Ivy has in the search for
her father—and possible salvation.

Maybe hiding away and dodging sidhe assassins isn’t so bad after all…

Release Date:  July 14, 2015

Genre:  Paranormal, Urban Fantasy

Now available (ebook/trade paperback) at
Amazon, Amazon.uk, Kobo, iTunes, and other fine retailers.

 

Add Birthright to your TBR list:

 

Birthright Book Excerpt

Wisps buzzed through the air, their musical humming rising in pitch
as they darted in for a closer look.  I sat on the mossy embankment and
smiled, watching the playful wisps.

With my father’s key helping to guide us, we’d left the deadly bog
and its poisonous gas behind.  I breathed deeply, and let out a happy
sigh.

“I don’t know what you’re so happy about,” Torn said, shaking water
from his hair.  “We’re covered in mud and smell like troll farts.”

It was true.  The sulfurous swamp gasses did smell an awful lot
like something that would come out of Marvin after he ate an entire
cauldron of Kaye’s chili, but I didn’t care.  We were alive.  And so
far, my wisp brethren weren’t trying to kill me.

I’m not sure what it said about my life that the lack of fratricide
upon my homecoming made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside.  Probably
best not to think too much about it, and just enjoy the moment.

I shrugged, and kept on smiling.

“Well don’t get too comfortable, Fish Breath is on his way over with his pensive face,” Torn said.

He stalked off to sit on a rock a few paces away, but I shrugged
again and closed my eyes, turning my face to the moon and stars above
us.  I wasn’t going to let Torn ruin this moment.

“Are you feeling well?” Ceff asked, settling on the mossy ground beside me.

I cracked an eye open, grinning from ear to ear.

“I feel great, never better,” I said.  In fact, I felt a bit dizzy
and my lips tingled, like I’d had too much to drink.  Only I would get
buzzed off the buzzing of wisps.  “Just buzzed off the buzzing.”

I hiccupped, and giggled, the laugh coming out in an undignified snort that startled the nearest wisps.

“Are you sure that you are not angry, or afraid?” he asked.

I forced myself to look up into Ceff’s face.  His head was titled
to the side, as if listening for something, but his attention was
focused solely on me.

“I’m fiiine, really,” I said, waving a hand.  My eyes widened, and I let out another giggle.  “I’m glowing.”

“Which is probably what has his highness’ panties in a bunch,” Torn
said, coming over to tower above me, arms crossed.  “There is something
weird about seeing you smile like that, especially when you’re
glowing.”

“What?” I asked.  “I smile.”

“Almost never, and when you do, it’s usually because you’re killing
something,” he said.  “Not that I’m judging.  I’m just saying Fish
Breath has a point.  You’re different.”

“She is high on power,” Ceff said, eyes going tight.  “I should
have recognized the signs sooner, but I was focused on our flight
through the bog, and then with releasing the water magic that held our
masks together.”

“You think it’s the wisps?” Torn asked.

“That would be my guess,” Ceff said, rubbing his jaw.

“This didn’t happen after our run in with those wisps in Ocean Overlook cemetery, did it?” Torn asked.

“No,” Ceff said.  “Not that we noticed.  But Ivy was badly wounded
that night, and took days to recover consciousness.  And…I…I was not at
my most attentive.”

That was the night that I’d killed his ex-wife.  Melusine may have
been the raging psychotic bitch who’d murdered his children, and tried
to kill us as well, but that didn’t mean her death had been easy on
Ceff.

The memory of Ceff’s grief flooded me, pushing the giddiness away.

“I think…I think I’m back to normal now,” I said.  I yawned,
covering my mouth with the back of my gloved hand.  Ignoring the
encroaching bone deep fatigue, I tried to pull myself to my feet, but
sank back down when a wave of dizziness nearly toppled me over.  “I just
need a minute.”

“You are exhausted,” Ceff said, brow wrinkling.  “Rest here.  I will keep first watch.”

“But my father’s court…” I said, but my words were cut short by another yawn.

“Will still be there tomorrow,” Torn said.

“Plus, I can scout ahead while you sleep,” Ceff said.  “We will
make better progress if we are rested and certain of the path ahead.”

“Fine,” I said, eyes fluttering closed.  “But just a quick nap.”

The last thing I saw, before losing myself to the darkness of
sleep, was a cloud of wisps hovering over me, lending me their
warmth…and their power.

~~~~~

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Birthright Release Day Giveaway

We are giving away a BIRTHRIGHT t-shirt, button, signed postcard, and mini poster to one lucky winner!

To enter, please use the Rafflecopter form below.  This giveaway is INTERNATIONAL. Giveaway ends August 4, 2015.

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Thank you all for partying with us!

In addition to the huge swag pack giveaway, we are also giving away Ivy Granger series stickers, buttons, and signed postcards.  Each tweet, FB post, and blog comment using the hashtag #BirthrightParty will count as an entry.  Winners will be randomly selected throughout the day.  So party with us and spread the word all day July 14th for a second chance to win!

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Thanks so much for visiting fuonlyknew and Good Luck!

To see all of my giveaways click on the lucky horseshoe below!

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