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Friday, May 29, 2015

PROMO: Dangerous Desire

Romantic Suspense
Date Published: March 25, 2015

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Sometimes you have to lose one thing to find another.

Sienna Diaz is desperate to find her missing Beagle, no matter what it costs. She hires Cruz Santino, the best—and hottest—in the business. He’s an ex-cop, dangerous on many levels, which comes in handy when all evidence indicates her beloved pet was snatched to use in a dogfighting ring.
Cruz will do whatever it takes to find Sienna’s lost pet, but he also wants results from the smokin’ hot attraction between them—and he isn’t above breaking his own hands-off-clients rule to get there. However, until he brings her beloved Beagle home safely, he won’t have Sienna's undivided attention...and affection.

Content Warning: Strong language, caliente sex, violence, and a dangerously hot rescue.


In full view, Cruz stripped off his sweaty black tee and Sienna nearly had a heart attack. Jesus Christ. The men at her gym would’ve despised him. Her eyes slowly drank him in. Good God. He had the sexiest bod she’d ever seen. Taut and tan, his muscles were chiseled in a way that gave his dimensions beautiful symmetry. Tori would’ve been impressed. She’d always preached about the importance of muscle balance. Some men took it to the extreme. Not Cruz. He sported a tapered waist with shredded abs, V-shaped torso, and arms that made her drool because, if she had to pick a favorite body part, arms were it.

He used the dirty shirt to dry sweat off his gorgeous frame. Her eyes followed his movements, stopping at the bulldog tattoo etched on his sculpted pec, with the word Marines below. He’d been in the service, a kickass Marine. How hot!

He busted her checking him out.

She yanked her eyes away. Jeez. Her face probably looked as red as it felt.

Holding up a fresh shirt, he shook it out a few times. The sound of fabric caught her attention. Her gaze slid that way again. Okay. Sound had nothing to do with it. She just had to look one more time. He pulled the shirt over his head. Terrific. Now he wore a white muscle shirt tailor-made for his ripped physique. The thing should’ve been outlawed.

Wearing a sly smirk, he combed his fingers through his short, spiky hair. Running down the inside of his arm below his rock-hard biceps, he had another tattoo, this one with five small Chinese symbols. What a unique spot for a tattoo, and unbelievably sexy, like everything else about him. Even his name sounded hot.

He climbed into the driver’s seat and snapped his door shut. He didn’t look at her, but then, he didn’t have to. She knew he knew what kind of effect that little display had on her. Oh yeah. He had it written all over that smug face. He might be a soaking-wet dream she didn’t mind entertaining on a nightly basis, but she didn’t have to be so obvious.

Sienna grabbed her seatbelt and tried to latch it.

“Damn,” Cruz mumbled, as he watched her struggle with the belt. He turned on the ignition and flipped the air conditioning to the highest setting.

She looked at his face instead of his sinewy arm. It took willpower, because those arms really did it for her. “Is there a trick?” The mechanism wouldn’t click into place.

“I keep forgetting to get that thing checked,” he said. “Don’t usually carry passengers except for Roman.” He looked back at his dog and grinned. Roman sat on the bench seat patiently waiting to go bye-bye.

“It doesn’t work at all?” She preferred to wear a seatbelt, and not just because of the law. South Florida had some loony drivers.

“It just takes a little maneuvering,” he replied. “Let me give it a try.” He turned all that magnificence toward her and reached across her chest.

Holy crap, he was totally in her face, his delicious body stretched across her lap. Sienna held her breath and pressed her back into the seat. She felt his weight, smelled his soap and baby shampoo. Her every cell fell under his spell. She tried to find her voice. “Any luck?” she squeaked out.

They were eye-to-eye, his mouth so close that if she puckered her lips, that would be it. His gaze traveled downward. He tilted his head like he wanted to kiss her. Uh-oh. She hadn’t made out in years. She probably sucked at it by now. A magnetic intensity pulled her to him, and she had a feeling she’d relearn pretty quickly. Her body buzzed with sexual urgency. Not once in her life had she felt this consumed, this desperate to feel a man’s lips on hers.


About the Author

Born and raised in the Bronx, NY, Diane Escalera makes her home in coastal North Carolina. The sultry surroundings are a steady source of inspiration for her hot love stories. Diane is married, has two children and a super cute dachshund she can’t get enough of. She writes contemporary romance and is published with Kensington Publishing and Lyrical Press.

Author Links

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Available in eBook & Paperback
Special Price for a Limited Time!


One (1) eBook of Playing With Destiny, a 2015 RONE Award Nominee for Best Novella.

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Tuesday, May 26, 2015

Blog Tour: Whipped Up by @GlennStuart #review

Date Published: November 2014

Paul Chaise is a former operative in the SBS – the Special Boat Service – but has been ‘retired’ for over ten years, living a quiet life in Spain, following a career as an estate agent, selling villas to the ex-pats seeking a new life in a new country. Everything is going very well until he inadvertently gives a hitchhiker a ride and his life begins to spiral out of control. This is the premise for the first book ‘Burnt Offerings’. At the end of the book, with his girlfriend fleeing to the UK, and his former employers incensed that he has emerged from his ‘cover’, he too is summoned to return.

 ‘Whipped Up’ sees Chaise trying his level best, but his old ‘employers’ have him followed and then he becomes involved with the problems of a customer who is being harassed by some particularly nasty Eastern European types who want to take over the running of this man’s houses. It all spirals out of control when this man is murdered and his wife tortured, her mutilated body left in Chaise’s flat as a warning to back off. Naturally, this has the opposite effect and the body count soon begins to mount up as Chaise goes on a one-man crusade to bring these Europeans down.

When the S.I.S in 
London gets wind of this, they decide to rein Chaise in, and that’s when it becomes really nasty!

A contemporary thriller set in the sordid world of human-trafficking, this second in the series pulls no punches and will appeal to anybody who likes their thrillers violent, fast-moving and with lots of twists.

Readers will enjoy this novel without having need to read the first in the series, as all is explained at the beginning of this volume.

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This is a great premise for a novel. I love that Paul Chaise was out of the world of crime. He had moved on, but somehow it finds him again and for good reason, he's good at what he does. 

There are a ton of twists and surprises that will keep you as a reader invested until the very end. A solid Thriller with wonderful characters. 

Born on the Wirral, in the United Kingdom, Stuart G. Yates went to school, but he may as well have not done so. Until he was sixteen he lounged around and did his utmost to make the lives of teachers hell. After school, he went from one dead-end job to the next, traveled around, met some great people, but had no idea where life was taking him, until one sunny afternoon in his local park, he sat and watched a group of teachers leading their children in a sports’ day. At once, he knew he’d found his vocation. So he went back to school, got educated and ended up in University studying to be a teacher. And all through it, from his days back in secondary school, to the moment he qualified as a teacher, he wrote. Stories, books, novels. And despite being a teacher of 22 years standing, he still writes. Since 2009, sixteen of his books have been published. He concentrates on historical fiction and contemporary thrillers. Whipped Up is the second in his Paul Chaise series, and he is working on the third whilst, in the meantime, drafting out numerous stand-alones. He is forever writing, which has to be a good thing. It keeps his feet firmly planted where they have always wanted to be – in the land of make-believe!

Twitter: @GlennStuart

Monday, May 25, 2015

Blog Tour: Reaper by Kristi R. Johnson

Young Adult
Date Published: February 12, 2015

Ana "Reaper" Keating has moved onto the Hugo Liberal Arts College campus, forty minutes away from her hometown. Dorm life will be incredibly different from her life in the cave at the quarry. Not only will there be reliable air conditioning and a roommate, but Reaper also believes she will no longer be threatened by the powerful and wealthy Goldwater family that adopted her mother, Sue, when she was a child. Neither Reaper nor her father, Jim, like to talk about Sue's death. And Mr. Paul, the Goldwater patriarch, still blames Jim for what happened 16 years ago. 
When Reaper learns that Mr. Paul's son, Ian, has also enrolled at HuLAC, she realizes that her days of dealing with the entitled and vengeful family are nowhere near over. It is Jim's worst nightmare, but it also what he has been preparing Reaper for all of her life.

Purchase Links



I loved the originality of this novel. Kristi R. Johnson shows great imagination and wonderful talent in creating memorable and fun characters. From the synopsis, I thought it would be a little more of a thriller type novel, but there wasn't a ton of action in the novel. I still think that the surprises and twists were good and kept me interested as a reader. 

Kristi R. Johnson is the creator and primary contributor to the book blog Door Stop Novels. Kristi currently works at the University of Texas at San Antonio as a Senior Admin, and part-time at Our Lady of the Lake University as a Writing Consultant. Kristi writes and reads whenever she can, and plans to keep reading, writing, and traveling as priorities in her life, always returning to her home in downtown San Antonio, which is little more than a treehouse with air-conditioning.

Reaper is her first full-length novel, the first 50,000 words of which she cranked out during National Novel Writing Month 2013.

Tuesday, May 19, 2015

Release Blitz: Shadowed Passage by @wolff_shyla #giveaway

Erotic Paranormal Romance
Date Published: 5/15/2015
Tariffs paid on an ill-fated decision can last a lifetime.

A young boy—tossed an impossible situation by his psychopathic uncle, father or sister, he must kill one for the other to survive.
Two decades later, Dylan has developed his psychic talents, trained by the military, learned the skills necessary to locate the family he’d abandoned as a child and kill the devil himself, Roth. On the day he’s discharged, his ex-boss offers assistance in locating his sisters, demanding help with one more mission in exchange.
Tori, a young woman weeks away from graduating with her Psych doctorate, is torn from her stable life and thrust into a world of espionage, warriors, and unexplainable phenomenon. The man she loves, Major Clannahan, attaches her to the unit charged with locating a terrorist cell. Dylan, leading the unit, draws her like no other. Yet the darkness buried in his soul will test her skills and patience beyond anything she’s ever known.
Kiera and Kyley, identical twins challenged by the extremes of evil yet remain pure of heart, both bound to their man with a love withstanding the tests of time and tragedy.  One a warrior, the other with a warrior’s heart, each wield formidable psychic talents, sought after by a psychopath and terrorist bent on destroying the country.
A group of psychic warriors, dedicated to fighting evil in the shadows, locating and helping others develop their paranormal talents without splintering society’s tenacious perception of reality.
These are the extraordinary people living among us, protecting and preserving our way of life. Courage and honor, duty and strength of will can sustain us for only so long. Eventually, we must find our own path forward, learning to open our hearts to love even as we risk the ultimate pain.


“The choice is yours, boy, but understand—not deciding is making a decision. Do it before I make the decision for you. Only difference is, I won’t kill one, I’ll kill them both. Father or sister. You have all the power.”
Roth kept his tone calm and gentle. The evil coiled tightly within warmed his soul. He fancied the boy killing his father, silently rooting for the infant to survive. He could have lots of fun with her over the coming years.
The boy’s father would die either way. He’d bound and beaten him just for fun.
“Daddy? What do I do?” Tears streamed down Dylan’s face, sobs racked his entire nine-year-old battered frame. His gaze slid from his father to his baby sister, now held by Roth. When he looked back at his dad’s bruised and bloodied face, he cried harder. His dad’s eyes were swollen almost shut.
The gun shook uncontrollably in the boy’s small hand. “Daddy?”
Boredom shadowed his mind as the excitement of the climax dimmed with the child’s indecisiveness. His gaze wandered out the window above the kitchen sink.
In the back yard, a massive, wooden play structure stood, complete with swings, tunnels, overhead ladder, and a slide. How extravagant for just two children, one still an infant. His sister always belabored the little things. Shame she’s not present to witness this. He would’ve found this even more amusing.
The blond haired infant cradled roughly in his left arm actually cooed at him. Disgusting. If he kept this thing, he'd have to hire a nanny. Still, the thought of it growing up with half the powers his sister enjoyed years ago made the brat worth the trouble...If she survived today. He sighed.

* * * *

“Dylan, son, it's okay. You’re going to be all right. Look at me. Remember how we played catch this morning? When you think of me, you’ll remember how we played ball today. Okay, son?”
What else could he say in this horrific situation? His own psychotic brother-in-law was forcing Dylan to commit the most heinous act imaginable, choose between patricide and sororicide. Roth had always been the canary in the crazy mind but even Devon hadn’t seen this coming.
“Awww, isn’t this touching?” Roth muttered, no doubt weary of his twisted game. “What a little wimp. I’m growing tired of your indecision, boy. I think I’ll just slice this little bitch’s throat. After all, she’d probably just grow up to be a carbon copy of her mother, stubborn and willful. Wouldn’t want more of that in the world, would we?”
“Noooo, please. Please don’t hurt her! She’s just a baby.” Facing where he knew his son to be by the sound of his sobbing stifled his thoughts. “Son, I know this is the hardest thing you’ll ever do, but you must. Please. It’s all right. I love you more than anything.”
Dylan retched, fumbling and almost dropping the Glock 9mm pistol. It probably felt like the heaviest thing he’d ever held, certainly his first time holding a gun.
His small frame trembled, tears streamed from his eyes, hair matted to his face. Red, swollen tissue marred the right side of his face, the result of Roth’s cold temper. The kitchen table supported his slight weight as he leaned one forearm on its edge.
“Roth, please don’t do this. He’s just a boy. Be the sniveling coward you’ve always been. Do it yourself.” Articulation was slurred through split and bloody lips. His tongue slipped between the gap of two missing teeth.
Though partially open, his right eye refused to focus properly. Warm, wet liquid traced a path down his face. Gravity would always trump decency. Blood splattered his clothes. Patches of gray clouded the edges of his vision. Unconsciousness lumbered near. The drumming in his head kept pace with his rapid-fire pulse. No child should ever see his father this way, unable to protect his family. Even if his son survived Roth, which he began to doubt, he'd be scarred for life.
“Oh, Devon, Devon, Devon. You just don’t get it, do you? I’m not a coward,” Roth admonished. “I have no qualms about ending any of your lives. Watch, let me demonstrate.” His patronizing voice oozed in the air like oil spreading over water to corrupt with its filth. Roth pulled the six-inch blade from its sheath at his waist and held it to the baby’s throat, who lay cuddled in the crook of his left arm.
“No, don’t. You bastard!” Devon strained at the rope binding his hands behind his back. “Dylan, listen. Take the family crest ring off my finger. Go ahead, son, take it. It’s yours. It’s our coat of arms.” Twisting sideways forced the bonds to cut his wrists as he removed the ring from fingers slick with blood.
When his son took it, he realized these would be his last words to his boy. “Put it in your pocket, you can get a chain for it until you’re grown. That ring is a symbol of your strength, son, a symbol of your commitment to do whatever’s necessary to protect your family. Remember this, Dylan.” Dear God, he'll have nightmares the rest of his life...if he survives.

About the Author

Of the many lessons life seems intent on throwing her way; the most important one Shyla’s learned is to take the time to enjoy family and friends. The flux and flow of changes aren’t something to fight, but adapt to with the best of your ability. One day’s heartbreak is often followed by another day’s triumph. The only barricades remaining are the ones we refuse to navigate. She hopes you’ve enjoyed this story. Shyla’s website,, will be updated as Dylan’s journey continues.

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Monday, May 18, 2015

PROMO: Edge of Tomorrow by @kelliewallace85 #excerpt #giveaway

Dystopian/New Adult
Date Published: April 15, 2015

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Twenty years after The Great Global Riots and the collapse of humanity, Alex Locke struggles to save his family, and his home colony of Pena, from starvation. When a letter from the corrupt Govern arrives dictating a game of survival penning local colonies against each other, Alex must trust a childhood friend, and seven others, on a certain death march to win the bounty or lose the only hope left in a war-ravaged world.


Beads of sweat rolled into Alex Locke’s eyes as he stared at the man before him crouched in the chair, weeping, gasping for breath. The left side of his face was swollen where a cheekbone had been fractured. A urine stain dampened the front of his pants.
Alex swallowed the lump in his throat, sickened by the stench. “I want to be reasonable here, Ernie,” he said. “I really do. But I know what you are.” He lowered his mouth to the man’s ear. Heat radiated off Ernie. “And I know you have information for me.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the nomad stuttered back, squinting up at Alex with his one good eye. His wrists and ankles were torn and bleeding from the rope binding him to the chair. He jolted once, twice, before giving up.
“I think you do. I’m a patient man, Ernie. I can stay here all day.”
Thump. Alex turned to find York Holt, his best friend brandishing a machete. Sun rays filtered through a broken window, giving York an aura.
“York, come ‘ere,” Alex ordered. “You need to persuade this man.”
As soon as Ernie saw the dirt-encrusted blade, he jerked up in his chair, so high that two legs left the ground. “Don’t hurt me! I’ll tell you. What do you need to know?”
Alex smiled gleefully. After two hours of integration, he was finally getting somewhere. He crouched to one knee and hooked an arm over Ernie’s armrest, his face inches from his own. “Ernie, you’re a Treme, right?”
The man’s head bobbed up and down.
“I know what your kind is like. You travel the wastelands of this state, wandering in and out of colonies, taking what you please.” His gaze crossed to Ernie’s armor lying in a pile in the corner of the room, fashioned from scrap metal, car parts and animal hide. It glistened under the sun’s rays.
“Th-That’s true,” Ernie stammered. “But we only take trash. We never steal purposely.”
“What’s that?” Alex slammed his fist onto the wall beside him and pointed to the armor. “These parts weren’t trash. They belonged to people, Ernie. You can’t steal, no matter if the world ended or not!”
“I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
Angered by this blatant lie, Alex withdrew a knife from his back pocket and thrust it into Ernie’s right thigh. The man howled in agony and squirmed violently in his chair.
Alex didn’t budge to release him or the knife protruding from Ernie’s flesh. They were ten miles outside of town, free of interruption. There was nothing out here but barren farmland and abandoned homes.

About the Author

Born in Sydney, Australia Kellie Wallace developed a love for the written word early in life, recalling her earliest memory when she was three years old. Her father used to read to her when she was a child, establishing a deep love and respect for books. Kellie wrote a bit in high school, most memorably her first fantasy book called Giblin the Conquer, an X Files fan fiction and a military fiction. She didn’t write another word until 2007.
After finishing high school, Kellie moved to the sunny Northern Beaches from the Central Coast and carved a successful career in the media/advertising industry writing for numerous Sydney based publications.
An aspiring novelist, Kellie fulfilled a dream in 2008 having her first book All She Ever Wanted published by Zeus Publications at the age of 22 years old.
In 2013, Kellie released her newest catalogue of books Darkness before Dawn and Skylark. In her spare time she loves to write, game and draw. Her first crime fiction novel To lean of falling men and EarthWalker are out now. She currently resides in Sydney with her husband.

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Arc of Edge of Tomorrow

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PROMO: Dance Away, Danger by @AlexaBourne #excerpt #giveaway

Romantic Suspense
Date Published: 1/4/14

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Sensible dance instructor Tessa Gage likes her life organized, risk-free and on her own terms. When her cop brother goes missing, his crooked partner tries to kill her, and a handsome stranger claims he’s come to protect her, she’s forced to leave her comfort zone. With more dance and business sense than survival skills and no idea who to trust, Tessa has no choice but to rely on this man who’d rather be anywhere but by her side.
When carefree carpenter Matt Rylan gets a late night call from an Army buddy who once saved his life, he finds himself where he never again wanted to be—responsible for someone else. Honor demands Matt cooperate, but he never expects his simple babysitting job to test the limits of his self-control. Nor does he expect it to explode into a race against time for his very freedom.
As Tessa and Matt get closer to the truth, and to each other, Tessa learns to step outside the safety of her world to help set the wheels of justice in motion. For Matt, supporting this courageous woman suddenly becomes everything to him.  Yet, his biggest challenge remains sharing his closed-off heart with her before the danger silences them both forever.


Tessa cringed. Froze.
The studio remained still. Her brother’s warning sprang into her head; if something didn’t feel right, get the hell out of there.
As quietly as she could, she stepped to the doorway and studied the empty dance floor. Shadows coiled around the lobby furniture to her right, accentuated by the pale moonlight seeping through the window blinds. Everything appeared normal. And yet, it felt wrong.
A blast of frigid winter air barreled from the rear of the building.
Tessa scrambled to the desk, grabbed her cell phone.
Shadows expanded on the floor behind her. Her fingers shook as she pressed 9…thump…1…thump.
The phone slipped from her grasp and clattered on the tile floor. She swung around and came face-to-face with a dark-haired stranger.
“How did you get in here?” How the hell did the man know her name?
He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “The lock on the back door needs to be replaced.”
He took a step toward her.
“Stay away!” She clenched her fists at her sides. Good grief, he blocked her only exit.
“Take it easy.” He raised his hands. They were empty of a weapon, but he had used them to break in when most of Hanover was already in bed. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Why should I believe you?”
They stood still, facing each other. He didn’t look so tough in his brown leather bomber jacket and construction boots—average height, average build, average features.
“Who are you, and what do you want?” She raised her chin, throwing out a fearlessness she didn’t possess. Damn, how many times had Jason tried to teach her self-defense? Why hadn’t she paid more attention?
“My name’s Matt Rylan. I’m a friend of Jason’s.”
She shook her head. “I know my brother’s friends. I’ve never seen you before.”

About the Author

Alexa Bourne is a teacher by day and a romance writer by nights, weekends, and all school holidays. She also teaches online classes for writers throughout the year. She writes romantic suspense and contemporary romance and is thrilled to have the chance to share her stories with readers everywhere.
When she’s not concocting sinister plots and steamy love scenes or traveling and exploring new cultures, Alexa spends her time reading, watching brainless TV, and thinking about exercising. Okay, she also spends way too much time interacting with readers and writers on social media sites. But don’t tell her editors! Find out more about her and her books on her website,

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Monday, May 11, 2015

PROMO: Gates of Perdition by @Rpkraul with a #excerpt and #giveaway

Date Published: 1/31/2015

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Mary watches in awe as a man plays guitar at gloomy Indianhead Reservoir. His skill is astonishing. But Mary is in the wrong place at the wrong time.
This man is a physiological oddity who suffered wicked abuse at the hands of his foster parents—for which he took revenge. He wants to be normal and whole again, but a manipulative psychiatrist has wakened the demons.
Mary will spend her last days chained in a basement—until she bears the child of a madman the media will call the Indianhead River Killer.
He will become Pennsylvania’s most prolific serial killer, and he will wreck the lives of the people in Belcorte. Twin Peaks meets The Silence of the Lambs in GATES OF PERDITION, the prequel to MIRRORS OF ANGUISH.


Kurst Hellerman pulled a gold key from his pocked and unlocked the door to the study.
It was then that Arthur Townsend met the Monster of Belcorte. He sat in Hellerman’s study, tucked in the leather lounge chair. His eyes were closed. Immediately Arthur noticed the scars from his abusive background. His foster parents, Kurst said, had been devoutly religious. His foster father, in fact, had been a minister. The upbringing of this patient—Kurst called him Patient X—was riddled with malevolence.
When they had entered the room, Patient X’s eyes had flickered open, but he did not speak. Only the heaving of his chest indicated his heart still beat, that blood still surged through his veins.
Kurst circled the leather chair, stood behind the patient, and placed a palm each on his shoulders. “I’ve brought a friend. Would you like to meet my friend?”
Patient X’s gaze traveled from oblivion and fell on Arthur. One side of his face was so badly burned that he looked half human and half … something else. Maybe an opossum, its fur burned down to its pink skin.
As Arthur would replay that image in his mind the next several weeks—as the months traveled by, he would remember it as an image of great horror. And sometime he would wake in the black of night, startle and jump up in bed, and that face, that terribly ruined face, was imprinted in his mind.
For now, though, he felt a wave of sadness—a sadness that squeezed his heart and pricked at his throat. Who had done these things to another human being? What cowardly monster? That his parents were responsible, that this man had suffered at the hands of parents who worshiped a figurehead named Jesus—likely a delusional schizophrenic like the Muslim Muhammad—left him not terribly surprised. And despite this wave of sadness, Arthur felt threatened. He was compelled to leave the room.
Patient X said, “I can smell her perfume on you. Where is she?”
Who was he referring to? Heaven forbid, was it Margaret, or was it one of his self-aggrandizing hussies who sat in his—
No, it was Margaret. He hadn’t lectured, not since this morning. With the word “who” on his lips, Arthur gazed across at Kurst, who was lost in his own delusional grin, those eyes burning like pilot lights.

About the Author

Follow authors to get new release updates, plus improved recommendations and more coming soon.
R.P. was enamored of horror from a young age, where he would sneak down to the family room with his mother sleeping, turn on that big console television--think 1970s here--and watch a double shot of horror on Pittsburgh's Chiller Theater.
He then took to creative writing, borrowing pieces of his favorite films. Today, he writes a unique blend of literary mystery and horror—throw in some crime now and then. It's one part H.P. Lovecraft and one part David Lynch and one part Kurt Vonnegut—and probably some other stuff, too. He is author of three books: Mirrors of Anguish, Demon of the Fall, and Gates of Perdition. He also co-authored Dangerous Grace, a soon-to-be-released erotic thriller.

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ebook copies of MIRRORS OF ANGUISH

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Thursday, May 7, 2015

Blog Tour: Descent of the Gods by Mark G. Cosman #review

Fantasy Adventure
Date Published: October 2, 2014

In their self-indulgent realm, the gods know no suffering until the end of their time. Compassion is the only portal through which they can escape the self and its eventual demise, but without suffering, compassion cannot be recognized. Thus they seek compassion in the human domain where happiness and sorrow abound. 
Once there, they engineer a superior humanoid race and are soon distracted by the delight they find in the daughters of men. The gods become the extraterrestrial visitors of our collective memory. 
The ageless story follows the adventures of the god Quay, his love of Daya, a humanoid, and their entanglement in the eternal web of impermanence, unrelenting consequences and death amidst a background of war, famine and geologic cataclysm.


I think the adventure and fantasy aspects were very well executed in this novel. A God and a human is something that you hear about a lot in Mythology and yet I haven't really read many stories that focus on them and not their offspring. 

This is a very imaginative and fast paced Fantasy Adventure. 

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Mark Cosman’s writing began when his daughter, Berlyn, was murdered following her high school prom. It was when Mark left the rubble of his beliefs and assumptions to go in search of answers to the most profound questions we ask ourselves. “A Flower in the Snow” is a result of that odyssey.

Wednesday, May 6, 2015

Blog Tour: His Name is Killian by Ella Adamian #excerpt #giveaway

Erotic Romance
Date Published: November 25, 2014

Killian Stone paints harpies. 

Killian Stone is not into vanilla sex. 

Killian Stone suffers from mood swings. 

Killian Stone has done something very bad. 

The day the painter approaches her on the bridge and asks her to pose for him is the beginning of a lust Melissa won’t be able to bridle. When Killian Stone offers her a month of submission, she’s already too captivated to turn him down. His unhinged sexuality lets her explore her own dark fantasies, but his anger outbursts are scary and devastating. As the time goes by, Melissa realizes there’s something more than just irritability and anger. He has done something which doesn’t let him rest.


Killian didn’t say more but ran after Melissa. She had almost reached the exit. When she saw the already familiar erotic images over the walls, she rushed forward, stumbled upon the iron door, told the guard to open it, and threw herself out of the building. The yellow light of the street pole hurt her eyes after they had been too long in the dark. She looked up, as if searching for solace in the dark skies, and at last took a deep breath of the cold air.
“Melissa!” she heard his voice behind. She didn’t turn. Instead, she took a step, but her legs were losing their strength, and she felt weak in the knees.
“Baby.” He was close now, and she turned around and pushed him in the chest.
“Damn it! What the hell was all that for? What for?”
Laughing, Killian tried to envelop his arms around her, but she shrank back.
“Come here.” He made another attempt to hug her and met resistance again. “Come, stop it. Let me hug you, and you’ll calm down.”
“Leave me!” she yelled louder as Killian forced his arms around her. “Leave me, you…pervert.”
“Baby, sweet thing, little angel, I’m sorry if it scared you,” Killian muttered, pressing her to his chest and rubbing her back. “I didn’t think you were so impressionable. Those were just S and M games in a BDSM dungeon.”
“You said it was a museum!” she cried out, trying to get out of his grip. Killian held her tighter, and her efforts became more vigorous.
“Calm down,” he said, feeling her tears on his neck.
“Why would you do that to me?”
“Calm down.”
“Let me go! I can’t stand you!” She pushed him harder, but the steel arms weren’t letting her free. The claustrophobic feeling was back again, and Lessi pushed him with all her force. At last he loosened his grip but didn’t let her slip through his hands and kept her at an arm’s length by her shoulders.

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Ella Adamian

Ella Adamian lives in a small country named Armenia and writes in English. She also hides her identity, so that the local law enforcement bodies won’t fine or detain her for her explicit erotic novel “His Name is Killian.” Currently she’s working on the sequel of her first book.