[Blog Tour] The Dark Lands by Christina Bauer

The Dark Lands
Christina Bauer
(Angelbound Origins #5)
Published by: Monster House Books
Publication date: September 1st 2018
Genres: Fantasy, Paranormal, Young Adult

“This YA paranormal fantasy series is cute, compulsively readable and above all fun.” – The Nocturnal Library Blog

Nineteen-year-old Myla Lewis is loving life–she’s now a wife, mother, and Queen of the Thrax. Oh yeah, and being a super-powerful demigoddess who moves souls into Heaven or Hell doesn’t suck, either. In fact, everything is pretty much awesome. Until something craptastic happens.

Her honorary older brother Walker enters the Dark Lands, home to the rule-loving ghouls, and vanishes without a trace.

Now it’s up to Myla to solve the mystery of Walker’s disappearance. Of course, Myla likes interacting with ghouls about as much as elective dental surgery. To make matters harder, everyone thinks that Walker is simply taking a well-deserved vacation. But Myla and her Angelbound love, Lincoln, both suspect that the ghoul Oligarchy took Walker in order to somehow release Lucifer, the ex-King of the Angels and an all around nut job who really needs to stay locked up.

Long story short, Myla and Lincoln have just two days to rescue their good friend and stop Lucifer from taking over the after-realms. Even for them, this may be a too-tall order, especially when Myla’s own father allows his past friendship with Lucifer to threaten Walker’s future.

“I loved jumping back into the world of Angelbound.”Mean Who You Are Blog

Perfect for readers who love angels, devils, and demons but want a fresh take on their related fairy tales, myths, and legends. This series combines fierce females, paranormal romance and urban/contemporary fantasy. Enjoy!!

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Author Bio:

Christina Bauer knows how to tell stories about kick-ass women. In her best selling Angelbound series, the heroine is a part-demon girl who loves to fight in Purgatory’s Arena and falls in love with a part-angel prince. This young adult best seller has driven more than 500,000 ebook downloads and 9,000 reviews on Goodreads and retailers. The first three books in the series are now available as audiobooks on Audible and iTunes.

Bauer has also told the story of the Women’s March on Washington by leading PR efforts for the Massachusetts Chapter. Her pre-event press release—the only one sent out on a major wire service—resulted in more than 19,000 global impressions and redistribution by over 350 different media entities including the Associated Press.

Christina graduated from Syracuse University’s Newhouse School with BA’s in English along with Television, Radio, and Film Production. She lives in Newton, MA with her husband, son, and semi-insane golden retriever, Ruby.

Stalk Christina On Social Media – She Loves It!

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[Book Tour] Grace’s Kiss by Karen Tjebben

 

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Romantic Suspense/Psychological Thriller
Date Published: September 2018
 
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Grace followed the rules. She always played it safe and never put her heart in jeopardy. Until the night she met Ryan. She’d never imagined that she could connect with an alpha male like him. Giving herself to him as he’d cradled her in his arms came naturally… until she sobered up. He was everything that she’d convinced herself she didn’t need. Or was he everything she needed?
Ryan balanced on a thin line of gray. He’d killed his share of demons but managed to live at peace with his actions. Then he met Grace, a woman who pushed all his buttons and shook him to his core. The need to have her overwhelmed him, but she kept shooting him down. Could he convince her that he was exactly what she needed?

Excerpt –

  1. Ryan liked the way her cheeks flushed when she stared at his crotch. The flash of innocence was a total turn-on. How could she look so innocent when she was so unabashedly sexy? He couldn’t help but groan as her hands slid over his ass cheeks and squeezed. Unintentionally, he tilted his hips towards her as he slid a hand into her hair. With the other hand, he tilted her head upwards and pressed his lips against hers. He tasted the alcohol on her as he traced the seam of her lips.

She stepped closer to him and lost herself in the kiss. She squeezed his ass again, harder this time, and he groaned. His ass muscles clenched in her grip. The burning ache between her legs intensified.

Parting her lips, she moaned as his tongue caressed the inside of her mouth. She enjoyed the overwhelming sensation of him and pressed herself against his body. The feel of his hard cock against her sent a rush of heat between her legs.

What was it about this guy? She didn’t go around kissing strangers or feeling them up. But this man had the pull of a rare earth magnet to iron. She couldn’t resist the attraction, so she enjoyed the draw. Curving her hands around his hips, she considered ‘accidentally’ brushing her hand over his groin and sneaking a feel of the impressive rod in his pants. But she lacked the courage. Instead, she pressed her breasts against his chest, thankful that she hadn’t worn a padded bra. Her nipples hardened at the heat of his body. She shifted her chest just enough to rub her sensitized nipples against her lacy bra.

As the kiss deepened, and her pleasure intensified, she pulled out of the kiss and glanced up at him. “Do you want to squeeze my butt?” she purred. She knew she sounded silly, but she was too drunk to care. She wanted his hands on her. She wanted to feel again. Besides, it wasn’t fair that he was the only one getting groped. She shouldn’t take advantage of him like that.

Her angelic doe eyes stared up at him. How had she managed to make that question sound so innocent and pure? Hell yeah, he wanted to squeeze her ass. “Darling,” he drawled, “I thought you’d never ask.”

  1. Turning his torso so that he faced her, he asked, “May I kiss you?” Normally, he didn’t formally ask a woman for permission to kiss her. He just went by the feel of the moment. But Grace was skittish, and he didn’t want to rush her.

She knew they’d kissed on the dance floor. Heck, she’d rubbed her body against his in a shameful way as she’d groped him. But the way he asked her to kiss him, like he respected her, warmed her heart. With nerves whirring through her, she nodded and said, “Yes.”

The soft, whisper reply warmed Ryan’s heart in a way he hadn’t expected. He wanted to pound his chest in a proud display of masculinity. She was giving him her trust, putting herself out there for him, and he appreciated that honor.

Ryan leaned towards her, looking for any hesitation or concern on her part, but there was none. The trust and innocence in her expression stirred a desire in him that he hadn’t felt before. He’d experienced passion in a sexual sense, but now a different type of passion heated him. This passion didn’t radiate from his cock. It wasn’t lust based. This passion radiated from his heart and mind and flooded his body. Grace didn’t casually give herself to men, so her affections were so much more valuable than she even realized. He liked that purity. He could see himself with her in a long-term relationship.

As he pressed a hand against her cheek, his thumb brushed over her lips. Her heart fluttered at the tender caress. She quickly licked her lips in anticipation and then felt his lips against hers. Heat washed over her that nothing to do with the hot, humid evening of a summer in the South. This was a heat that was stirred through passion and went right to her core.

She wanted more of him, tracing the seam of his lips with her tongue, she urged him to take the kiss further. He didn’t disappoint. The little boat rocked as he repositioned his body for a better angle to continue the kiss. His tongue slipped into her mouth and caressed hers in an erotic dance. Her girl parts woke up and moistened. The ease and pleasure of his kiss assured her that sex with him would be equally pleasurable. Where had that thought come from? They wouldn’t be having sex anytime soon, despite the need surging through her body.

When he pulled away, he’d left her panting and with a pulsing need between her legs that Daniel had never stirred up. She adjusted in her seat, wishing she could beg him for another kiss. Did he feel the same desire in his own body?

“I like you, Grace,” he said. He wanted to kiss her again. Hell, he wanted to take her back to his place and make love to her, but he knew that would be rushing her. If Daniel was telling the truth, and she’d only had sex with him, then she wasn’t the type to have sex after a first date. That was okay with him. He knew they’d have more dates, and she’d eventually have sex with him after one of them. He only needed to wait her out.    

 


About the Author

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Karen Tjebben lives in central North Carolina with her wonderful husband, twin daughters, and two hamsters. When her girls left for kindergarten, Karen discovered that she needed to fill her days with something, and that was the beginning of her new career in writing. She loves to create worlds filled with unique characters that she hopes will delight and raise goose bumps on her readers. In her free time, she enjoys traveling with her husband and seeing the world through her daughters’ eyes.
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[Book Blitz] Undisclosed by A.M. Salinger

Undisclosed
A.M. Salinger
(Nights, #7)
Publication date: August 21st 2018
Genres: Adult, Contemporary, Romance

I have a problem. His name is Lincoln “Asshole” Hudson. He’s the bastard who wants to run me out of town. I should hate him. Trouble is, Lincoln is my type. Like one hundred and ten percent. And, ladies, he has the biggest, er, package I’ve ever seen on a man — Eveline

I have an itch I want to scratch. Her name is Eveline “Sassy Mouth” Claude. She’s the woman standing in the way of what could be my most lucrative project yet. Eveline is my enemy. There’s one hitch: she’s the hottest thing on legs my dick has ever seen — Lincoln

When Eveline Claude discovers she doesn’t actually own the land on which her most successful club stands, she is determined to get it back from the man who has now laid claim to it. Unfortunately, Lincoln Hudson, the new landlord and über successful billionaire behind the Hudson Group, doesn’t want to play ball.

Lincoln Hudson is in Tokyo for a landmark deal that could help secure his company’s foothold in the Far East and expand his hotel business in a new and exciting direction. The only hiccup is, someone else thinks they own the prime piece of land he’s just bought. And that someone is a woman he very much wants to bed.

After Lincoln convinces Eveline into becoming his personal escort for the duration of his stay in Tokyo in exchange for considering leasing her the land, the two of them come to a mutual agreement; they will enjoy each other—socially and carnally—until such a time that their arrangement comes to an end.

But as their time together draws to a close, Eveline and Lincoln discover that they have more in common than just great sex. Will they let their business affairs sour what is growing between them? Or will they put aside their differences and accept that enemies they may have started as, but lovers is what they’re meant to become?

Discover Eveline and Lincoln’s story in this sexy and wickedly funny addition to the hot, contemporary romance series Nights by A.M. Salinger. Note from the author: although each book in Nights can be read as a standalone, you will enjoy this series even more if you read the books in order!

This is a novella length MF romance with a HEA.

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EXCERPT:

Eveline Claude blinked slowly. “Come again?”

A muscle jumped in the jawline of the man seated on the other side of the conference room table.

“You don’t own the freehold to the Tokyo branch of Le Secret,” Malcolm Brooks repeated stiffly.

Eveline’s pulse started to race as she stared from Brooks to his poker-faced partner, Victor Kline.

“I’m sorry, did I just hear you say that I don’t own the tenure of one of my most successful business enterprises?” Silence greeted her stunned question. “Are you guys yanking my chain right now?” Eveline chuckled in disbelief. “You are, aren’t you? Because there’s no way my one-thousand-dollar-per-hour, top-notch city lawyers just informed me that they fucked up.”

Brooks glanced at Kline. “Told you she’d bring up the hourly fee,” he muttered.

Kline ignored his partner and studied Eveline with an impassive expression. “Of course, we’ll be working to resolve this matter pro bono. The mistake is ours and we cannot apologize enough on behalf of the firm.”

Eveline’s mouth went dry as she looked between the two men and realized they were serious. The first inkling that her day was going to turn out to be gloriously shitty began at six a.m., when the fire alarm in her apartment building went off. Having left Le Secret at two, Eveline wasn’t pleased that her much needed beauty sleep had been interrupted by some asshole who hadn’t figured out how to use his new waffle maker. Her ire rose tenfold when she went to collect her car from the underground garage and noticed the fresh scratch on her midnight blue Maserati. She’d made a note to ask the security guards to check the cameras covering the parking lot and had barreled out of the building and into the early morning Tokyo traffic at twice the allowed speed limit; she hated being late for an appointment and her nine o’clock meeting with Brooks & Kline was taking place on the other side of town. She’d made it to their office on the twelfth floor of the glass and steel high-rise housing their law firm with four minutes to spare and had waited impatiently in the conference room, curious as to why they’d requested the urgent face to face.

It was Brooks who’d called her the day before to set up the meeting.

“Something’s come up. We need to talk,” the lawyer said cryptically after Eveline’s assistant put his call through.

Eveline paused and lowered her cup of coffee, her gaze shifting from the busy dual computer screens on the desk before her, to the glorious views beyond the panoramic windows to her right. Her office was located next to a small, private flat she kept above Le Secret and overlooked Ginza, the most famous and exclusive district in Tokyo.

Eveline frowned as she studied the busy intersection outside, the first seed of unease stirring inside her.

“What’s this about, Malcolm? It’s rare for you to call me yourself.”

“I know. It would be best if we had this conversation face to face,” Brooks replied.

He’d refused to answer Eveline’s questions and gave her the details of their appointment before disconnecting. Though she’d been troubled by her enigmatic conversation with the lawyer, Eveline soon forgot about the exchange, the daily demands of running her internationally renowned and incredibly successful chain of upscale escort clubs consuming all her attention and focus. Business was booming, especially since she’d opened the latest branch of Le Secret in Singapore.

Eveline swallowed presently and leaned back in the sleek metal and leather chair of the conference room, her knuckles whitening where she gripped the arm rests. Maybe I should have thrown salt over my left shoulder before I left my apartment this morning. Or burned some incense or do whatever it is people do to ward off bad luck.

She studied the two lawyers with narrowed eyes. “Explain to me exactly how this happened.”

Brooks sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose while Kline slid a file across the table.

“It seems Mr. Nagato forged the documents his lawyers provided to us five years ago, when he sold you the plot in Ginza as a freehold,” Brooks said bitterly. “What you actually bought off him was the right to lease. His son-in-law works for the local land registry office and we suspect he made the counterfeit papers. According to one of our contacts in the Tokyo Metropolitan Police Department, the Nagatos have connections with an organized crime syndicate that specializes in land rights grabs.”

Eveline tensed, her gaze skimming the folder before her distractedly. “You mean, they’re part of the Yakuza?”

Kline grimaced. “They are linked to them in a distant, convoluted fashion, yes.”

Eveline’s heart pounded as she digested the implication of the lawyers’ words. The Yakuza were the Japanese equivalent of the Italian Mafia. Having witnessed secondhand what the mob did to their business rivals in New York, Eveline had no desire to associate with the local criminal organizations here in Japan, even if she suspected several of the clients who had visited the Tokyo branch of Le Secret over the last five years had some kind of connection to them.

Eveline clenched her jaw. “What can we do about this? I paid Nagato a hefty sum of money for that land. We’re talking seven figures here, as you both well know.” She paused, an unwelcome thought bringing a bitter taste to her mouth. “Wait. Did he even own that plot? Don’t tell me the asshole sold me someone else’s—”

“He does,” Kline said. “Or he did.”

“We’ve already lodged an appeal in court to contest the new owner’s claim to the freehold,” Brooks said. He ran a hand through his hair. “It’s going to take some time to—”

“New owner?” Eveline scowled. “What the hell do you mean, new owner?” She jumped to her feet and leaned her hands on the table. “Are you telling me that conniving bastard sold my land to someone else?!”

“Yes,” Brooks said quietly. “And this time, the documents he provided were the legitimate ones.”

Eveline took a shuddering breath and closed her eyes briefly, her nails biting into her palms where she’d fisted her fingers.

“I’m gonna kill him,” she hissed. Eveline grabbed her bag and stormed toward the conference room exit. “I’m gonna strangle that lowlife with my bare hands and dump his body in Tokyo Bay! What’s his address?”

“Sit down, Eveline,” Kline said with a sigh.

Eveline stopped by the door and whirled around. “I’m not kidding, Victor! I hope you guys know a good criminal lawyer ‘cause I’m going to need—”

“Nagato is dead,” Brooks said.

Eveline froze. She opened and closed her mouth soundlessly, her eyes rounding as she gaped at the two lawyers.

What?!” she shrieked.

“Nagato died three weeks ago,” Kline stated. “It was a heart attack, apparently.”

A light-headed feeling swept over Eveline. She made her way back to the table on unsteady legs and flopped down in the chair she had just vacated.

“He completed the sale of the freehold a few days before his death,” Brooks added.

Kline leaned across the table and opened the file in front of Eveline. “This is the letter we received yesterday from the new owner’s law firm.”

Eveline blinked before focusing on the top sheet of the paperwork before her.

“The land in Ginza is now the property of Lincoln Hudson, the President and CEO of the Hudson Group,” Kline continued. “His lawyers have given us formal notice that Le Secret’s leasehold rights will be revoked in thirty days.”

Eveline’s hands trembled as she picked up the letter and read it over, the words blurring in front of her eyes. Her heart sank as she finally absorbed its content.

It was just as Kline had said.

The new owner of the plot on which Le Secret stood had given her thirty days to dissolve her business and vacate his land.

“Wouldn’t a leasehold be for fifty years?” Eveline mumbled. “Can he even do this?”

“The new leasehold law that came into effect twenty-five years ago gives the landowner the right to refuse the leaseholder permission to run a business on his property,” Kline said. “Hudson is completely within his rights to issue a revocation order.”

Blood thundered in Eveline’s ears, the sound matching the emotions storming through her as she stared blindly at the printed text. She put the letter down, inhaled shakily, and stared at the men opposite her.

When it rains, it fucking pours.

“How long will the court appeal take?” she said, her voice growing steely as cogwheels started turning in her brain. She had not come this far in life without learning how to roll with some punches. Eveline frowned. Or how to get back up and knock the enemy right out of the ring.

“Six weeks,” Brooks said.

Eveline drummed the fingers of her right hand on the table, her polished, red-lacquered nails rapping an impatient tempo.

“Can we do anything to expedite it?”

“We’ve got a meeting with one of the judges this afternoon,” Kline said. “As to whether he will be willing to bring the case forward is not something I’d want to bet money on.”

Eveline gritted her teeth. “Do the Hudson Group President and his lawyers know the details of this affair? As in Nagato swindling me out of—”

“They know,” Brooks said. “We spoke to Lincoln Hudson’s lawyers and his secretary yesterday after we received the letter. Hudson’s secretary got back to us thirty minutes ago.”

Eveline leaned forward in her chair, her heart pounding against her ribs. “And? Is he willing to negotiate something?”

“Hudson said that it ain’t his problem,” Kline muttered.

Eveline stilled. “What?”

Brooks rubbed his eyes tiredly. “According to his secretary, Lincoln Hudson’s exact words were ‘I don’t give a flying fuck’.”

 

Author Bio:

Ava Marie Salinger is the pen name of an Amazon bestselling author who has always wanted to write scorching hot contemporary and erotic romance. In 2018, she finally decided to venture to the steamy side. NIGHTS is the first of several sizzling series featuring sweet, sexy men and women with dark pasts and a whole lot of love to give to the ones brave enough to fight for their hearts. When she’s not dreaming up hotties to write about, you’ll find Ava creating kickass music playlists to write to, spying on the wildlife in her garden, drooling over gadgets, and eating Chinese.

Want to be the first to know about Ava’s new releases and get access to exclusive content, sneak previews, sales, and giveaways ? Then sign up to her Reader Group here and join her VIP Facebook Fan Group here.

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[Cover Reveal] Blood Match by Ginna Moran

Blood Match
Ginna Moran
(The Divine Vampire Heirs, #1)
Publication date: October 11th 2018
Genres: New Adult, Paranormal, Romance

If Jewel’s blood matches with a vampire, she loses her freedom as a donor and possibly her life. If not, her family dies.

When the Blood Hunger Plague decimated humanity, Donor Life Corp inoculated humans against vampirism and stopped the extinction of the human race. To ensure civility, all adult humans are required to donate blood to vampires.

After eighteen-year-old Jewel’s father goes missing, she applies to the Blood Match Program to save her siblings from a life on the streets. If she matches, she’ll become an exclusive lifetime donor to an elite vampire in exchange for her family’s safety. But the matching process turns out to be more than she anticipated. Jewel perfectly matches with Kingston, Diego, and Austin Divine, the three dangerously hot vampire heirs to Donor Life Corp, and they sweep her into a world where she turns into something she never imagined: An equal.

As powerful enemies arise to threaten her blood matching, Jewel must learn to survive in a world that would rather see her caged. If she can’t, she not only jeopardizes her family’s lives and the hearts of her three perfect vampires, she risks facing her final donation.

This is an upper young adult/new adult reverse harem paranormal romance suitable for ages 16+ due to language and mature content as the series progresses.

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Author Bio:

Ginna Moran is the author of an array of both paranormal and contemporary young adult novels including the Demon Within, Falling into Fame, and Spark of Life series.

She started writing poetry as a teenager in a spiral notebook that she still has tucked away on her desk today. Her love of writing grew after she graduated high school and she completed her first unpublished manuscript at age eighteen.

When she realized her love of writing was her life’s passion, she studied literature at Mira Costa College in Northern San Diego. Besides writing young adult novels, she was senior editor, content manager, and image coordinator for Crescent House Publishing Inc. for four years.

Aside from Ginna’s professional life, she enjoys binge watching television shows, playing pretend with her daughter, and cuddling with her dogs. Some of her favorite things include chocolate, anything that glitters, cheesy jokes, and organizing her bookshelf.

Ginna is currently hard at work on her next novel.

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[Blog Tour] Hostile Takeover by Cristelle Comby

 

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Vale Investigation (book #1)
Urban Fantasy
Date Published: August 1, 2018
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When a mysterious beast savagely mauls random residents of Cold City, the police assume that these are the killings of a rogue wolf. But experienced private investigator, Bellamy Vale, is unconvinced.
Ordered by Death herself to investigate, Vale has no choice but to obey for his boss is not someone to disappoint—if he wants to keep breathing, that is.
With friend and computer hacker Zian, interfering journalist Candice Kennedy, and homicide sergeant Melanie Ramirez by his side, Vale has no choice but to end the killings or face the wrath of the demon who literally holds his life in her hands.
Hostile Takeover is a fast-paced, edge-of-your seat paranormal mystery that will leave your heart racing, and have you looking over your shoulder.

Excerpts:

01

I was having a bad day.

The ugly thug facing me readied himself for the next swing. “What did you say, bastard?” His red-splattered knuckles were ready for the next round; my body wasn’t.

“I’m haffin a fah fay,” I managed to repeat through a mouthful of saliva and blood.

That made Julian Ragazzo, former welterweight boxing champ and top bodyguard to the city’s prime Italian Mafia family, smile. His wet beard glistened with sweat beads around stained teeth. Glad one of us was happy.

I took stock of the damage Ragazzo had already done. Broken nose, check. Split lip, check. Swollen eye, check. Broken rib, double check, and the list went on and on. It could have been worse. The injuries, though painful, weren’t enough to put me in the hospital. Sure, I’d hurt for a week or four, but I’d live to tell the tale outside of a body cast. I knew that, and Ragazzo did, too. This was a game we’d both played before … not that I’d gotten any better at it.

I caught a reflection of myself in the glossy surface of a cabinet door. My messy mop of brown locks was matted with blood on one side and the five o’clock shadow had a hard time concealing a fast-bruising chin. One eye was swollen shut and the other had a pale blue, haunted orb dancing amidst a sea of red veins. I was a mess, and not a hot one.

I closed my good eye and waited for the next blow. The bodyguard didn’t disappoint. A second later, he delivered a power punch and I saw stars. It didn’t help that I was tied to a chair and my already sore shoulders screamed in protest at the added strain. In a noise that only I could hear, my body cried out, ‘How in all the hells was this part of the plan?’ Fair question—it wasn’t.

In truth, there may have been a few glitches here and there. Like those two extra guards at the office building’s back entrance, plus that wrong turn I took on the fourteenth floor. Yeah, okay … the plan was just as screwed as I was.

Ragazzo followed up his haymaker with another kick in the guts. It would have ripped a scream out of me if I’d had any breath left for it. Instead, my lungs just took in short, choppy gasps I couldn’t control.

“Well, well, well … look what the cat dragged in,” taunted an Italian-lilted voice.

I recognized the lazy drawl and opened my good eye to confirm my suspicions. Sure enough, Alonzo Vitorini, Cold City’s resident wannabe kingpin, stood near the entrance in a dark-green pinstriped suit. Shit, looking at his ugly get-up hurt worse than any of Ragazzo’s blows.

Vitorini sauntered into the room, smiling as he noticed my stare. “Like the suit?” he asked, doing a little pirouette to show off this walking insult to fashion.

I wasn’t going to reply, but the second my eye caught sight of the finishing touch, a pair of black-and-white spectator shoes, my mouth kicked into gear on its own.

“Al Capone called,” I wheezed out. “He wants his brogues back.”

Vitorini laughed, the corners of his muddy-green eyes wrinkling. Not sure if he was laughing at the crack or the fact that he was going to kill me for it in another minute or two.


02

I’d just got out of the shower when she showed up. Same entrance as usual. One second she wasn’t there; the next, she sprawled languidly on my bed. That always gave me the creeps. And how in all the hells could she always have such perfect timing? But I knew better than to question how she appeared from nowhere, disappeared without a trace, or knew the things she knew.

We were old acquaintances and she had seen into my soul and beyond. I had no problem with her seeing my nakedness. And even if I did, I was too worn down to care anyway. I flicked the bedside table lamp on, walked past her, ass-naked, and reached for a shirt and a pair of sweatpants. Someone else may have tried to educate her on social behavior, but I’d long ago given up on the hope that she would ever come to grips with a concept as trifling as privacy.

“I wasn’t expecting to see you tonight,” I said as I shrugged the clothes on. My sore shoulder protested and I winced.

“Why would you?” she replied with a slight accent that was impossible to place.

I glanced at her for clues. Her hair was loose and dark brown again. She had a little makeup on, looked to be anywhere between twenty-five and forty. Her feet were bare and she wore a long and oh-so-thin black dress.

I recognized the look. It was the one I’d dubbed “the Mediterranean” and I knew what it meant. She sat up and her gaze darkened to a coal shade as she took a good, long look at me.

“I’m not in the mood,” I said as I finished pulling down my shirt. I tried hard not to notice the movements her dress made against her feminine curves. But I was a man and no straight man in his right mind could resist giving the attention demanded by that oh-so-perfect cleavage.

“You do not get to choose, mon Bel-Ami,” she said.

Hearing her use my name like that did things to me that no human being could have ignored.

“Or have you forgotten how this works?” she added.

“I haven’t, but no amount of French-silver-tonguing will make me like it,” I retorted. It was a weak protest and we both knew it.

She laughed, a deep, throaty, sultry sound that did things to me I wish it didn’t. Then she moved again, seeming to undulate as she stood to her feet. In two steps she was in front of me, ripe for the taking, temptation personified. She was beautiful, every man’s dream, and she knew it.

“What do you want?” I asked, throat dry.

“A man died tonight,” she murmured. “I want you to investigate.”

The change of topic helped me get my mind off … other things. “For God’s sake, why? Certainly, you would know what happened.”

She remained stock still. It was as if I hadn’t said anything, and maybe I hadn’t as far as she was concerned. She sure had a tendency to only hear what interested her.

I glanced at the clock and saw that it was just past three a.m. “Look,” I told her, “I’ve had a lousy day that doesn’t seem to want to end. I’m more banged up than a crash test dummy right now. So why don’t you and I make an appointment for next Thursday, when I’ll—”

That would be the part she heard clearly. She was on me in a second, swift as a viper. Her cold fingers laced themselves around my throat, pushing me backward until my back hit the wall. The pain of the injuries, which I kept finding new ways to aggravate, registered this time. Must have had something to do with how I felt my feet lift off the ground as she kept me there, pinned like an insect.

“You signed a contract with me, Bellamy Vale,” she hissed. “Your life for a favor. It was granted to you, thus I get your life.”

Her gaze bore into me and her vice-like grip did not relax. I tried to struggle, but she was as immobile as a statue.

“You are mine,” she said. The sexy accent was long gone, replaced by something darker and deadlier. “I see the tapestry of life and I hold your string in one hand and the scissors in the other.”

I’d have swallowed if I could. Instead, I started to suffocate, spots clouding my vision as my heartbeat took up a staccato rhythm. In spite of all that, her arm remained rigid.

“I will cut it when it pleases me,” she continued. “Until then, you are mine and you will do as I command.”

Blood thumped in my ears and I could feel my heart slowing down. I nodded; it was all I could do.


 

About the Author

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Cristelle Comby was born and raised in the French-speaking area of Switzerland, in Greater Geneva, where she still resides.
She attributes to her origins her ever-peaceful nature and her undying love for chocolate. She has a passion for art, which also includes an interest in drawing and acting.
She is the author of the Neve & Egan Cases series, which features an unlikely duo of private detectives in London: Ashford Egan, a blind History professor, and Alexandra Neve, one of his students.
Currently, she is hard at work on her Urban Fantasy series Vale Investigation which chronicles the exploits of Death’s only envoy on Earth, PI Bellamy Vale, in the fictitious town of Cold City, USA.
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[Blog Tour] Everything Under the Sun by Jessica Redmerski

Everything Under the Sun banner
This is my stop during the blog tour for Everything Under the Sun by Jessica Redmerski. This blog tour is organized by Lola’s Blog Tours. The blog tour runs from 30 July till 12 August. See the tour schedule here.

Everything Under the SunEverything Under the Sun
By Jessica Redmerski
Genre: Dystopian/ Post apocalyptic
Age category: Young Adult/ New Adult/ Adult
Pages: 683 pages
Release Date: 28 August 2017

Blurb:
Thais Fenwick was eleven-years-old when civilization fell, devastated by a virus that killed off the majority of the world’s population. For seven years, Thais and her family lived in a community of survivors deep in the heart of the Appalachian Mountains. But when her town is attacked by raiders, she and her blind sister are taken away to the East-Central Territory where she is destined to live the cruel and unjust kind of life her late mother warned her about.

Atticus Hunt is a troubled soldier in Lexington City who has spent the past seven years trying to conform to the vicious nature of men in a post-apocalyptic society. He knows that in order to survive, he must abandon his morals and his conscience and become like those he is surrounded by. But when he meets Thais, morals and conscience win out over conformity, and he risks his rank and his life to help her. They escape the city and set out together on a long and perilous journey to find safety in Shreveport, Louisiana.

Struggling to survive in a world without electricity, food, shelter, and clean water, Atticus and Thais shed their fear of growing too close, and they fall hopelessly in love. But can love survive in such dark times, or is it fated to die with them?

You can find Everything Under the Sun on Goodreads

You can buy Everything Under the Sun here on Amazon


 

EXCERPT #1: “I’LL WAIT FOR YOU.”

“One more night,” I said, not looking at her. “Give me one more night and I’ll get you out of this city.” All I could see in front of me was the scenario: I’d wait until very late, after most of the city was sleeping, and then I’d dress her in my military clothes, make her pin up her hair underneath a cap, strap a rifle to her shoulder, a backpack full of goods on her back, and set her atop the mare waiting at the stables.

“But there’s nothing for me anymore,” Thais said, wiping away the lingering tears on her cheeks. “There’s nowhere for me to go, and no one waiting for me there if by some miracle I make it alive. My mother and father are dead. My sister”—she looked up at me, and although I didn’t meet her gaze, I could feel her eyes on me—“my whole family is dead, and this world is dead and my soul is dead and everything that was once good and beautiful and right, is dead.”

I looked at her then, her words stirring me.

“That’s not true,” I said, and got up from the chair and crouched in front of her. “You may be the only good thing left in this world, and I’ll be goddamned if I let your light fade.”

Tears tumbled down Thais’ cheeks.

I took the gun that had fallen from her hand, tucked it into the back of my pants.

“Promise me you won’t try anything,” I said as I went toward the door. “Promise me on your sister’s soul, that you’ll stay in this room and wait for me.”

“Where are you going?”

“To get your supplies.” I placed my hand on the doorknob. “Don’t open this door for anyone.” I opened it to blackness; the candles that had been lit in the hallway had burned down.

“Wait,” Thais called out, and I stopped.

She stood up on wobbly legs.

“You said to get my supplies—are you sending me away alone?”

I thought on it for a moment. I’d never had any intention of going with her. I couldn’t. Not if I was going to keep others from following her.

“No,” I finally said. “You’re not going alone. I’ll go with you, at least until I can get you somewhere safe.”

“Is there anywhere safe, Atticus?” Her voice was soft, hopeless, and hearing her say my name like that did something to my heart. “Do you know where you’re taking me?”

I sighed. And I looked at the wall.

“Yes,” I lied, and then stepped out into the hallway.

Just before I closed the door I added, “Promise me.”

Thais nodded.

“I promise,” she said. “I’ll wait for you.”


EXCERPT #2: “IT WASN’T SUPPOSED TO BE THIS WAY.”

It wasn’t supposed to be this way. I was supposed to travel with him until he got me out of Lexington City and then I was to make a run for it, kill him if I had to—but I didn’t. I was supposed to stay with these people and leave Atticus to do what he wanted, go where he wanted, without me—but I couldn’t. I was supposed to be afraid of him not only because of the terrible man he was when I first laid eyes on him, but also because he was a man—but I wasn’t. I wasn’t afraid of him.

I was afraid for him.

I was afraid of being without him…

“Thais?”

I looked up; my bottom lip quivered.

“I will wait for you,” I said, trying to be strong. I wiped my tears, swallowed hard and nodded.

Atticus dashed outside, pushing the barn door out of his way. Seconds later he came back with the horse. He tossed the quilt we’d slept on the night in the barn, over the horse’s back. Then he went over to the backpacks, stepping around Rachel’s unconscious body, and shoved everything back inside. He helped my arms into the straps of the larger backpack.

Fitting his hands on my hips, Atticus hoisted me up and set me on the horse; I grabbed a hold of the horse’s reins.

“Stay out of sight of the house,” he said as he fitted the smaller backpack and his jacket between my legs. “And cut through the woods there”—he pointed toward the back of the barn—“that’s west; just keep as straight as you can in that direction, but don’t leave the woods.”

I nodded.

He walked with me outside the barn, stopped to look out at the flat land beyond the highway where those who were coming for us would likely be, and then led me around the barn. The deep woods beckoned me out ahead; I couldn’t help but feel intimidated by them, as if they were some kind of final leg of our journey—or the beginning of my journey alone.

Steadying my breath, I looked down at Atticus once more, transfixed on his intense blue eyes, the sculpted shape and rough texture of his handsome face, and I couldn’t imagine at this point never seeing it again.

“I’ll come for you,” he promised.

Tearing my gaze from his, I faced forward and tightened my grip of the reins.


EXCERPT #3: “AND YOU ASK WHY?”

“Why are you so angry, Atticus?” My voice was soft and concerned now.

He blinked, but offered no response.

“I’ve seen men fight before,” I went on, “but I’ve never seen a man as angry at the world as you are. The way you beat that man in your room”—I shook my head with despondency—“the one just now; Atticus, you’re just so full of rage and hate. Why?”

He snorted, as if he’d found my question ridiculous.

Why?” he mocked incredulously, holding out his hands, palms up. “I’ll tell you why, Thais: at every turn someone wants to rob or maim or kill us; we can’t sleep, night or day, without the thought in our heads as we close our fucking eyes that we might not wake up.” He gestured his arms wildly, his features constricted with indignation. “We’re covering our shit up like animals, sleeping in ditches, watching over our shoulder every second of every day for the chaos to grab us by the ankles and pull us down with it—and you ask why?”

I sat against my quilt, unable to stand to hear this truth. And as if his movements depended on mine, Atticus fell into a crouch in front of me, bouncing on the toes of his boots. I never looked away from the pull of his gaze, trapped by the intensity of it.

“I haven’t slept since you arrived in Lexington City,” he went on. “When I saw you that day, clutching your sister as she was ripped away from you; when you lay on the sidewalk, begging me to help you—it did two things to me, Thais”—he held up two fingers, and then dropped them between his legs—“it fucking killed me; the things I had to do, the part I had to play in not only your fate, but the fate of every girl in those ropes—it fucking killed me! It killed what little was left of my humanity!” His voice had risen with his heated words, his memories, but then he paused to calm himself, lowering his head but for a moment.

I remained motionless, speechless, but my heart began to ache and fill up at the same time. I listened raptly to every word, my heart breaking as he spoke them.

“It killed me,” he repeated. “But then something reached into Hell, grabbed me by the throat and pulled me back. I died that day in the street, Thais Fenwick; I died and then there I was, looking down at you with the eyes of the man I used to be, and I wanted to help you. I still fought with myself after that, but I wasn’t going to let you die or be raped or forced to marry a man you didn’t love—I didn’t know what to do, but I was going to do something, goddammit.”

I sighed. I wanted to hold him, but all I could do was sigh.


 

Everything Under the Sun Quote 3

Jessica Redmerski

About the Author:
Jessica Redmerski is a New York Times, USA Today and Wall Street Journal bestselling author, international bestseller, and award winner, who juggles several different genres. She began self-publishing in 2012, and later with the success of THE EDGE OF NEVER, signed on with Grand Central Publishing/Forever Romance. Her works have been translated into more than twenty languages.

Jessica is a hybrid author who, in addition to working with a traditional publisher, also continues to self-publish. Her popular crime and suspense series, In the Company of Killers, has been optioned for television and film by actor and model William Levy.
She also writes as J.A. Redmerski.

You can find and contact Jessica here:
Website
Facebook
Twitter
Goodreads
Amazon Jessica Redmerski
Amazon JA Redmerski

Giveaway
There is a tour wide giveaway for the blog tour of Everything Under the Sun. 3 winners will each win a signed paperback copies of Everything Under the Sun, along with signed bookmarks and postcards (United States and Canada only).

For a chance to win, enter the rafflecopter below:
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[Release Blitz] The Scandal in Honor by Heidi Ashworth

 

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The Lord Trevelin Mysteries, Book 2
Historical Mystery
Date Published: August 1, 2018
Publisher: Dunhaven Place Publishing
 
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What is the price one must pay to protect one’s honor? Or that of another? It has been two years since the duel that changed Julian, Lord Trevelin’s life. He is now happily betrothed to Miss Jane Leavitt, a wealthy debutante. Her influence has helped to restore his reputation among Society. Her father, however, has not allowed the connection to be made public. He disapproves of Trev’s penchant for looking into unsavory matters such as pinched diamond necklaces and dead downstairs maids. He will allow the couple to set a date for their wedding when he is satisfied that Trev will look after his own reputation with the same care as does Jane.
Meanwhile, Trev is taken with the rumors about Miss Hannah Andersen, a young lady newly arrived in London for the season. Her military father was said to have put a period to his existence in order to escape the consequences of fleeing a battle with his wife and child. She, however, insists his death was an accident. Trev can’t resist attempting to set the man’s reputation to rights. He is assisted by his ethereal friend, Willy, and the boot boy-cum-valet, Jack. When several more “accidents” occur, Trev’s list of murder suspects grows. And then his cousin Evelyn threatens him with ruin if he does not release Jane to his clutches–only, this time, it will be her honor that shall be irrevocably tarnished.
The Scandal in Honor is book two in The Lord Trevelin Mysteries. Be sure to also read the first book in this captivating Regency-era mystery series about one man’s journey to redemption, told through the eyes of the one whose absolution he longs for the most: his own.
Other Books in the Lord Trevelin Mystery Series:
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The Lord Trevelin Mysteries, Book 1
Published: June 2017
Publisher: Dunhaven Place Publishing
Julian “Trev” Silvester, the Marquis of Trevelin, had everything a gentleman could want–good looks, a fortune, and plenty of charm. When a duel with a jealous duke leaves him disfigured, Trev is ostracized by those who once celebrated him. His life is forever changed, but Trev is still loyal to his friends. When one is accused of murder and another’s diamond necklace is stolen, he does what he must to help them. As the two cases merge, Trev finds an ally who isn’t put off by his scar and the scandal of the duel–Miss Desdemona Woodmansey. As their investigation into the murder reveals just how treacherous the mask of polite society can be, both Trev and Desdemona are put in grave danger. Trev has already lived through the disgrace of a scandal, but can he survive a killer who will do anything to protect a sinister secret? Be sure to read the first book in this series about one man’s journey to redemption, told through the eyes of the one whose absolution he longs for the most: his own.
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Excerpt
There comes a time when a man must choose to do that which he should not. The memory lies like a flame about to be extinguished, flickering in the past for lack of notice. And yet, when brought to mind, it flares to life, along with the shame…and regret.
Chapter One
The air pierced my lungs like a thousand tiny icicles, but I remained rooted to the spot. Jack tugged at my sleeve, crazy with fear for me, and still I did not move. I thought perhaps I would never see Silvester House, or even England, again. I was in the power of my cousin, Evelyn Rogers-Reimann, and he was not a merciful man.  
England February 1814
            I strolled into the salon of Silvester House to find Mrs. Smurthwaite seated on the divan under the window, her face pink with delight. Stopping short in astonishment, I suppressed a groan. I managed my best smile, a triumph I am told. (The scar that disgraces my mouth stretches into oblivion when I am at my most affable. As I refuse to smile so giddily into the mirror, I must rely on the opinion of others.)
“Trev,” Walter Leavitt hissed as he rescued his glass from colliding into my unyielding form. “How did she get in?”
I turned to my friend; he possessed the same glorious red hair and eye for the absurd as his younger sister, Miss Jane Leavitt. That she was at long last my betrothed was one of the few satisfactions I had yet known in my then five-and-twenty years.
“I have only just learned,” I murmured for his ear alone, “how Mrs. S. has regularly availed herself of my home.” I gave him a long stare. “It’s Hatch! He allows her entrance at any hour of the day or night merely to plague me. I should not be surprised to learn he has made a present to her of the key.”
Leavitt brought his glass to his lips with a roll of his eyes. “You ought to turn him out.”
“I can hardly do so!” I said, appalled. “He has been with the family forever.”
“Well, she’s ghastly,” he said, his voice flat. He regarded her over the rim of his glass. “Jane would not like it.”
“She is aware of Mrs. S.’s eccentricities,” I said with a shrug, “and endures it with good grace.” I gave the lady under discussion a slight bow, grateful that she was hard of hearing. “Furthermore, she is not in the least ghastly.” (‘Twas a bald lie.) “She is a lonely old woman, and my nearest neighbor.”
“Shall you not join me, my lord?” she crooned from her place by the window. “It has been long since we have controversed.”
Leavitt leaned to whisper in my ear, never taking his fascinated gaze from Mrs. S. seated across the room. “I believe she meant to say ‘conversed.’”
“I am aware,” I said, a trifle shortly. No one had endured the woman’s corruption of the King’s English with more regularity than I.
“She is waiting,” Leavitt said with a nudge to my shoulder.
“Indeed! For you. She has grown as enamored of you as that corset she sports,” I murmured as I started across the room to claim my seat next to the infernal creak of it. 
“If I must!” he griped, depositing his goblet on the credenza with a perilous tinkling of glass.
We sat, one to either side of her. Silently, I prayed for composure. I had no wish to dissolve into laughter at Leavitt’s antics. He was sure to make a mockery of her words behind her back.   
“Now!” she said with a punishing blow to my thigh, one she doubtless meant as an amicable swat. “When are you to wed that sister of his?”
I smiled, my marriage to Jane being my favorite subject on which to ‘controverse’. “It shall be a summer wedding. June, I believe, if Jane has her way. She is determined to carry roses for the ceremony.” In truth, she much preferred lilies. I dissembled so as to mask the fact that my future father-in-law refused to allow us to set a date. It had taken a year for him to consent to our betrothal, and another for it to be made public. I, however, remained unconcerned. An older man with an enormous belly, I knew I need merely out-live him, if necessary.
“June? Haven’t you waited long enough for connubile bliss? You have been betrothed for nigh on a year!”
“True,” I said, “but Miss Leavitt is adamant as to the flowers, and one must wait on such things.”
“Which reminds me,” Mrs. Smurthwaite said, turning her gaze upon Walter. “You ought to be on the hunt for a wife, as well. That Miss Hannah Andersen would do nicely, I should think.”
“Miss Andersen?” Walter said, with an inadequately concealed shudder. “I daresay m’father would have much to say on that score.”
“Why? Whatever could be abjectionable in her?” Mrs. Smurthwaite asked with a lofty air.
I met Walter’s sardonic gaze over the top of her head. “For one,” he said as he thrust out his hand and unfurled a finger, “she’s a pauper. Second, she’s not had a proper coming-out, and third, it is said that her father made away with himself. I should think that more than enough concerns to render her very objectionable,” he added with a waft of his hand.
“I fear it is not equitable to judge those we do not know,” I admonished lightly. Privately, I also found Miss Andersen quite beyond the pale. I stroked the corner of my mouth where dwelt the scar that had nearly undone my life, and felt myself a hypocrite. I had reasons, however; if my future brother-in-law were to attach himself to one such as Miss Andersen, all that had passed to restore my reputation could be lost.
I thought, then, of Jane; how I had nearly been denied her hand due to the whispers as to the origin of my injury. I concealed a shudder of my own as I recalled that I had once contemplated putting a period to my existence. And then I reminded myself that Miss Andersen’s father was only said to have killed himself. The actual truth of the matter was unknown.
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About the Author

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Award-winning, best-selling author Heidi Ashworth lives with her husband and three children in the San Francisco Bay Area. She writes sweet, traditional, Regency-era romance, romantic comedy, and mystery. She is the author of the Miss Delacourt series, published by Montlake Romance. The second book in The Lord Trevelin Mysteries comes out August 2018.
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