Blog Tour: The Stone Guardian by @PaulinaShelf #review

Fantasy Romance

Date Published: November 18, 2014

Element – Fire (Healer/Destroyer)
Royal House – Purple

Milcah was born to rule along side an evil mother. Milcah's father was taken against his will and forced to give up his seed to produce a child with unimaginable powers. At a young age she was taken away from the only home she knows and forced to forget, again and again.Raised by a detached stepmother, Milcah learned to depend on herself and her best friend, Mary for support. When Mary suggest a vacation, with a scenic route, to the Grand Canyon Milcah believes she is finally getting the chance to see outside her small town. Packing a few things and climbing into her old beat up car, she never imagined she would find a new side of herself.

Lost on a back road, Milcah meets her destiny in a small town named Beacon. When her mind is unlocked, she finds she has a past that will lead to the salvation or damnation of the world.

This is book one in The Witches Amulet series.

Review 

A lot of the key elements for this novel were there. It was a great premise for a novel and had some great twists and entertaining moment. A wonderful fantasy journey for Milcah. I wish I could have connected with her on a deeper level as a reader, it would have made me more invested in her journey. If Paulina can draw more of a compassion between the reader and characters in future novels, I see great things for this series.

Paulina is a small town girl with big dreams. She is the second oldest of three talented siblings.

As early as three she was directing her family around acting out whatever current story was in her head. At four between her older brother and her, a whole universe was created which the younger siblings were introduced into as they were born.

Her natural ability to tell a story took her down many paths. She wrote plays, poems, small children books and short stories all before she entered high school.

When picking a career her councilor told her writing was a dying art and so she went to school for veterinarian science. Three years later she dropped out of university and enrolled in the local community college with a major in journalism

In 2008 she graduated with her BA in Communication/Journalism from Cal State Fullerton.

Life happened and her dreams were put on hold until 2013 when she started a review blog. This year her first book in her Witches Amulet series will be released. 

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Blog Tour: A Manual For Marco by @ShailaAbdullah

Children's Picture Book

Date Published: February 1, 2015

A Manual For Marco:

Living, Learning, and Laughing With an Autistic Sibling

Why does he act that way?

Pages from the diary of an eight-year old girl who decides to make a list of all the things she likes and dislikes about dealing with her autistic brother, and in doing so realizes that she has created A Manual for Marco.

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Shaila Abdullah is an award-winning author and designer based in Austin, Texas. She has written five books: Saffron Dreams, Beyond the Cayenne Wall, My Friend Suhana, Rani in Search of a Rainbow, and A Manual for Marco. The author has received several awards for her work including the Golden Quill Award and Patras Bukhari Award for English Language. Several academic institutions have adopted her books as course study or recommended reading, including the University of California, the University of Nebraska-Lincoln, Indiana University, Boston University, California State University, and George Washington University.  Learn more about the author at www.ShailaAbdullah.com

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PROMO: Chosen by @christinejpope #giveaway

Paranormal Romance

Date Published: February 4, 2015

It began as a fever of unknown origin that its victims dubbed “the Heat,” but as it burned through most of the world’s population, it became known simply as “the Dying.” And for those left behind, the struggle has just begun….

In the aftermath of the Dying, survivor Jessica Monroe is protected and guided by the gentle voice of an invisible being she thinks of as her guardian angel. When she reaches the sanctuary he’s provided for her, however, she realizes that her unseen companion is no angel at all. The destruction of humanity was only the first step in a much larger plan, and now Jessica must struggle to discover her own role in a frightening new world where everything has changed.

Excerpt

Now was the time to say a few words, but nothing seemed to come to mind. I couldn’t even remember the Lord’s Prayer, or more than the first few words of the Twenty-third Psalm.

“The Lord is my shepherd,” I began, then shook my head. What came next? The lines were all jumbled together in my head, nonsense syllables that sounded like something straight out of “Jabberwocky.” And what did it matter, anyway? We weren’t a religious family; we went to Christmas Eve services some years and some years not, maybe Easter. I’d gone to Sunday school when I was really little, but my parents hadn’t even bothered with that when Devin came along.

For the longest time I stood there under the oak, the sun disappearing altogether, deep dusk falling upon the yard. Then I moved, and the motion-sensor light mounted to the side of the garage flashed on.

“I love you all,” I said finally, then set the Waterford vase and the football trophy on top of their grave.

After that, I went back inside and shut the door behind me. It seemed to echo in the unnatural stillness of the house, and I realized it was hardly ever this quiet — someone always had the TV on in the background, or there was music playing, or somebody talking on the phone. Now the quiet pounded against my eardrums, and I realized how big a three-bedroom, two-thousand-square-foot house could feel when you were the only one in it.

The only one in the world….

The thought whispered through my mind, and I did my best to ignore it. Surely if I were immune, and not just having extremely delayed onset for some reason, that meant other people had to be immune, too. How many? I couldn’t begin to guess. I didn’t know the mortality rate of the disease. Even if 99.9% of the population was dead, that would leave around a thousand people still alive in the greater Albuquerque area, if I was doing my mental math correctly.

I turned on the overhead lights in the kitchen, then went through the house, turning on all the lamps. Maybe that wasn’t the smartest thing to do — maybe advertising my presence would do more harm than good. But I couldn’t sit there in the dark, not after everything I’d been through that day. Besides, when I peeked out through the curtains, I saw mine wasn’t the only house on the street that was all lit up. Most likely the others just had their lights on because no one was around to turn them off, but it did make mine seem less conspicuous.

“Are you there?” I asked of the darkness. Even a voice that was only a product of my imagination was better than this deep, deep silence, the kind of quiet you should never hear if you lived in a big city.

No reply, of course. My gaze shifted to the remote control, still lying where I’d last dropped it on the coffee table. I didn’t quite dare to turn on the television, not after what I’d seen the last time around. I could only imagine how bad it must be by now.

But there was still the stereo, and all the CDs my parents wouldn’t get rid of, despite Devin and me telling them all that plastic just took up space and that they should just rip all their music off those CDs and then play it through Apple TV or something. And now I had to be grateful for their stubbornness, because that meant I could get up and choose something to blot out the silence. My father liked country, but old country, like Hank Williams and Willie Nelson and Patsy Cline, and my mother preferred classical. That sounded better to me right then, so I found her favorite, Rachmaninoff’s Second Piano Concerto, and put that on.

It actually was better, with the sound of an orchestra and Vladimir Ashkenazy on the piano overriding that awful stillness. Or at least it was better until I realized that no one would ever play that piece live again, that there would be no more symphony orchestras or Arcade Fire concerts or anything, ever again.

“Oh, God,” I gasped, pushing myself up from the couch and running into the kitchen, where I turned on the faucet and splashed cold water in my face. As if that could begin to help. It was all too big to comprehend, so awful and enormous that I could literally feel the horror of it beginning to sink in, like some  noxious chemical seeping into my skin.

And then it was as though strong, invisible arms wrapped around me, bringing with them a soothing warmth. Unseen lips brushed against my hair, and I heard the voice again.

Be strong, my love. Be strong for just a while longer.

Just as suddenly, the presence was gone. I held on to the tile of the kitchen counter, feeling the cool surface beneath my fingertips. In that moment, I truly wondered if I’d lost my mind.

What other explanation could there be?

 

About the Author

A native of Southern California, Christine Pope has been writing stories ever since she commandeered her family’s Smith-Corona typewriter back in the sixth grade. Her short fiction has appeared in Astonishing Adventures, Luna Station Quarterly, and the journal of dark fiction, Dark Valentine. Two of her short stories have been nominated for the Pushcart Prize.

Christine Pope writes as the mood takes her, and her work includes paranormal romance, fantasy romance, and science fiction/space opera romance. She blames this on being easily distracted by bright, shiny objects, which could also account for the size of her shoe collection. After spending many years in the magazine publishing industry, she now works as a freelance editor and graphic designer in addition to writing fiction. She fell in love with Sedona, Arizona, while researching the Sedona Files series and now makes her home there, surrounded by the red rocks. No alien sightings, though...not yet, anyway!

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Three ebook copies of Chosen

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Cover Reveal: Jayded by @shevaundelucia1

New Adult

Date Published: April 10, 2015

 Maxine Daniels was made an offer that she couldn’t refuse. She couldn’t think of a better time—after breaking things off with her fiancé—to change cities and merge her company with Saunders Literary Agency. At thirty-three, she isn’t getting any younger, so it’s time to start fresh and leave her past behind.

What she doesn’t anticipate is the diversion that lies ahead. Kyle Saunders is a catastrophic tsunami that enters her life and consumes her world in just a matter of minutes. Everything about him is telling her no, but her heart and the heat between her legs is screaming yes. He was never a factor in her divine plan—nor was she in his.

Kyle is the cliché bachelor; he is a twenty-four-year-old charismatic chick magnet who refuses to settle down. He’s dead set on living the carefree single life—that is—until Max comes strolling in. Then all his ridiculous rules fall to the wayside. Who knew that just one hello could alter their lives forever?

 

EXCERPT

My mouth hangs open. It’s like time freezes, and all I can think is holy fuck! I’m speechless. Never in my life have I been speechless or caught off-guard to this magnitude. The woman in front of me is fucking hot! On fire! I slowly take her in, starting with her high red pumps, long legs, and tight red skirt reaching her knees, hugging one amazing ass and some unGodly shaped hips. Man, those hips though. I can already see my hands being at home on those hips. My eyes drift up to her tiny waist and voluptuous breasts. Yum. Her face is flawless: lips plush and eyes a beautiful iridescent blue, which completely contrasts against her darker complexion and the brown of her hair. Simple perfection.

I must be standing here like a doof, making an ass of myself, because she smiles with a tiny bit of amusement. She reaches her hand out to me. “Hello. You must be Kyle?”

I continue to stare, completely mesmerized. It takes me a moment to snap out of it. “Uh, yes, I’m Kyle. You must be Maxine.” I grab her hand, immediately feeling the softness of her skin. “It’s nice to meet you,” I say with a smile.

“It’s just Max,” she informs me.

About the Author

 Shevaun DeLucia, author of the Eternal Mixture series, lives in upstate New York with her husband, four children, and two dogs. As a stay-at-home mom while her children were young, she fell in love with reading. She indulged in the small moments that took her away from the reality of her loud, rambunctious household, bringing her into a world of fantasy. When reading wasn’t enough to satisfy her, she turned to writing, determined to create the perfect ending of her own.

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Blog Tour: Dangerously Forever by @AMGriffinbooks #excerpt & #giveaway

Erotic Romance / Sci-Fi

Date Published: December 26, 2014

Loving Dangerously, Book Five
Being kidnapped by a deadly—and dead sexy—brothel slave wasn’t exactly what Kiehle Xochis signed up for. His instructions had been simple: Watch over the human female until his brother and his mate arrived to rescue her. Instead, the slave has decided to liberate herself. She’s proving to be more than Kiehle can handle—and he kind of likes it.
Allysan Miller has gone through hell since being taken from Earth during an invasion. She’s finally found a way to escape the latest, and worst, of the brothels she’s been sold to. Now if Ally plays her cards right, she could gain both freedom and love…if she can learn to trust the dangerous male she’s chosen as her hostage.
Inside Scoop: Ally suffers her share of abuse at the hands of a brothel owner’s guards. But don’t worry. The feisty female warrior gives as good as she gets.

A Romantica® SciFi erotic romance from Ellora’s Cave   

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Excerpt

The nerve of him.

She balled her fist and punched the padded post with all her might. It made a thumping sound but didn’t waiver. Sweat dripped from her scalp and down her face. Her clean clothes were damp and beginning to cling to her body. While the morning sun wasn’t yet high in the sky, without proper shade there was no relief from it.

She made a quick turn and smacked the post with the back of her hand with a grunt. She could hit the thing as hard as she could and didn’t have to worry about it bending or breaking, especially since Kiehle used this very post for training. A bead of sweat rolled down her forehead to her eyelid. Using her shoulder, she wiped the sweat away and peered up at the sky. She couldn’t even guess what time it was. She had no clue how time was tracked on this planet. All she knew was that it was early. Everyone was still sleep—even Kiehle.

At the thought of him, she leaned to the side, brought her leg up and thrust her foot out to kick the post. She’d been hitting and kicking since she’d gotten up. Well, since the sun had come up. She hadn’t slept a wink last night.

All because of him.

While Yoshi and Max had slept soundlessly, she’d tossed and turned. Unable to keep her eyes closed, she’d spent most of the night staring at the ceiling.

She grunted and punched the post again. Her fist made a dull sound as it hit the padding that covered the wood.

She’d done the right thing, shutting the door on him. She smiled to herself, thinking about how his face must’ve looked.

She spun and landed an elbow, pretending it was his face.

That’s what he gets. Assuming I’ll want to fuck him.

She bobbed and weaved, pretending she was avoiding his outstretched hands.

Grabby hands.

Then, with a left uppercut, she hit the post where she assumed his chin would be.

Knockout.

The only reason she’d had sex with him in the first place was to plot her way to freedom. Well, maybe not the first time. The first time she had wanted too. But the second time was definitely to plan her escape.

She brought her hands up to shield her face and bent her knee, bringing it back. Then with a fierce cry, she kicked out, landing the bottom of her foot where she pretended his kneecap was.

I’ll cripple him if he bothers me again.

When she’d finally gotten up this morning, the house had been quiet. She’d peeled Yoshi’s leg from across her stomach and Max’s arm from around her neck. Although the bed could easily sleep six, they’d both stuck to her side as though still in her small bed from the brothel. She’d retrieved her clothes from the washer and tiptoed to his closed door to listen. She thought she’d heard him stir inside but when she listened more, she didn’t hear anything else.

She’d rested her hand on the door, trying to decide if she should push it open and go to him. All that stood between her and the possibility of riding him like a cowgirl was a door.

One that she would not open.

Instead, she’d dressed and left the house, hoping a few laps around the structure would tire her out. That’s when she’d come across what looked like a workout area. Exactly what she needed to get rid of all the pent-up energy that overwhelmed her.

She spun and hit the post with her elbow.

Asshole.

“Do you mind if I join you?”

Startled, she turned to see Kiehle sauntering in her direction. Or prowling in her direction. Whenever he walked toward her, she got the feeling he was stalking his prey.

She took deep breaths. Her chest heaved. “Can I say no?”

“No.”

She flicked her hand in the air. “Then I guess I don’t have a choice.”

He pulled his shirt over his head. His perfectly chiseled chest and arms glistened under the sun. He began to stretch out the muscles in his upper body, over-exaggerating his movements. “Mmm, I need a good stretch.”

Is he moaning?

Her body immediately went soft at the sounds.

He closed his eyes and straightened his arms up to the sky, making his muscles ripple, and moaned again. Her mouth watered as her eyes roamed his chest, his nipples, his stomach and the happy trail of hair that ran from his chest to his waistband.

“That’s it,” he groaned. “My muscles are so tight.”

She tilted her head to the side. His body… I can touch it.

A bead of sweat formed below her nose and rolled over her lips. She licked it away. I would love to lick him.

Wait? What am I doing? Ogling him again. Holy hell.

Flustered at being mesmerized by him, yet again, she turned and focused her attention back on the post and practiced fighting combinations. Not giving in to the temptation to turn and watch him more.

From the corner of her eye, she saw him crouch low to stretch his thighs. The material of his pants stuck to every fine muscular line.

Even outlining his…

She gave her head a light shake. There’s no need to focus on that…that…monstrous thing.

She eyed the post and focused hard. Left, right, cross and duck. Left, right, cross and duck. As he finally walked over to her, she mentally repeated the words, trying to drown out the other voices in her head. The voices that whispered how delicious he looked…that begged her to let him crush her under his weight.

By the time he stood a foot away, the chant sounded more like, Left! Right! Cross! And duck! Left! Right! Cross! And duck!

He moved to her side and assumed a fighting stance, crouching low with his arms out, his smoldering lavender eyes trained on her. His face was framed by thick dark hair that hung a little past his shoulders. Good gracious, he was gorgeous.

She gave him a look of indifference. “We’re sparring?”

“Unless you think I might be too much for you to handle.”

He didn’t know what he was walking into. She’d spent the morning thinking of ways to knock him on his back—and not the way he was probably thinking of now.

She twisted her hair into a knot on the back of her head. He didn’t make a move to do anything with his. Hanging loose, it made him look primal…dangerous…sexy.

Shit.

She narrowed her gaze. He must think that every female around him should swoon like a schoolgirl. He really didn’t need to take off his shirt to advertise his perfect body and that stretching performance had been way over the top. Now his hair was blowing around his face as if he were some kind of alien Fabio.

She looked around. Where the hell is all this wind coming from? “Are you planning to tie back your hair?” she asked, trying her best to sound annoyed—not aroused.

“I had not planned to.” Smiling, he added, “Unless you find it too distracting.”

A. M. Griffin is a wife who rarely cooks, mother of three, dog owner (and sometimes dog owned), a daughter, sister, aunt and friend. She’s a hard worker whose two favorite outlets are reading and writing. She enjoys reading everything from mystery novels to historical romances and of course fantasy romance. She is a believer in the unbelievable, open to all possibilities from mermaids in our oceans and seas, angels in the skies and intelligent life forms in distant galaxies.

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Blog Tour: Blood Red by Vivian Wolkoff #excerpt

Blood Red: The Complete First Season

Paranormal Romance

Date Published: January 15,  2015

Evie Williams lives a boring life – and she likes it that way. Her world is very black and white. Routine is good. Excitement is bad. She’s happy to play by her self-imposed rules. After all, they help her keep her abusive, stalker ex-boyfriend at bay. Or so she believes…

But there’s more to the world than Evie could possibly imagine. Elves, vampires, witches and pro-Humanity terrorists are very real – and she can sense the danger they pose to her and others. Worst of all, they just realized how precious Evie’s gift is.

As the world Evie never imagined possible closes in on her, Chris, the vampire in charge of studying Evie, is getting more and more interested in her… and it has nothing to do with his loyalty to his vampire father.

Blood Red: The Complete First Season is a story of unlikely heroes, damsels who refuse to be in distress and political conflicts solved by fights to the death.

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Excerpt

Chris frowned. Evie had just run outside. She looked around, spinning on her heels slowly several times. Then, she froze.

She was just standing there, in the middle of the street. Her eyes drifted to the café. Their eyes were locked.

Chris's eyes drifted down the street. The old pickup truck was rushing to Evie, skittering on the icy street. It looked like the driver had lost control. Evie looked terrified, her eyes wide and her face pale. Her shoulders shrank, bracing for impact. It only made her look small and fragile.

For a moment, Chris saw what would happen next. The car would hit her head on, the impact sending her flying several feet away. Her body would hit the cold pavement. Her blood would fall around her, painting the snow in shades of red and pink. The fire that burned in her eyes would disappear and her smell would fade into nothing. At that idea, Chris felt something inside him snap.

He couldn't let that happen.

           Vivian Wolkoff has always been in love with words – even before she could read them. So, it should be no surprise she turned to writing and reading very early in life. She first self-published a poetry book at the age of 13, followed by two honorary mentions in contests promoted by a small publishing house in her native Rio de Janeiro, Brazil. Then, she decided to do some living and find out what else she loved. After college and moving cross-continent twice, Vivian decided to turn to self-publishing again. She is the author of Showmance, the first book in a trilogy about a fake celebrity couple and their crazy fans, and the psychological thriller Love You To Death. Blood Red is the first novel in her Preternatural Chronicles – a shared universe filled with unlikely heroes, damsels who refuse to be in distress, intrigue and epic adventures.

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PROMO: In For The Kill Thunderclap by @shannonmckenna4

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Romantic Suspense

Date Published: January 27, 2015

Years ago, the McClouds and their friends rescued little Sveti Ardova from ruthless organ traffickers. Now she’s all grown up, and getting into some scorching trouble of her own . . .

NO SURRENDER

The risks ex-cop Sam Petrie has taken have turned his life into a train wreck. So he has nothing to lose by doubling down as the elusive Svetlana Ardova’s unwanted bodyguard on her ill-advised trip to Italy. Her crusade against modern slavery has blazoned a bullseye on her chest, but when one of the death threats against her almost hits the mark, Sam’s protective instincts go into overdrive. Every lethal obstacle and trap they encounter ups the stakes—and the undeniable heat between them.

Now they’re spiraling in on a deadly and explosive secret—one that could either redeem them or destroy them … and the closer they get, the shorter the fuse …

Praise for Shannon McKenna

"The McCloud series is an auto buy for me." --Maya Banks

"McKenna writes intense, sensual stories." --The B&N Review

"Shannon McKenna makes the pulse pound." –BookPage

 

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Shannon McKenna is the NYT bestselling author of over ten action packed, turbocharged romantic thrillers, among which are the stories of the wildly popular McCloud series. She loves tough and heroic alpha males, heroines with the brains and guts to match them, villains who challenge them to their utmost, adventure, scorching sensuality, and most of all, the redemptive power of true love. Since she was small she has loved abandoning herself to the magic of a good book, and her fond childhood fantasy was that writing would be just like that, but with the added benefit of being able to take credit for the story at the end. Alas, the alchemy of writing turned out to be messier than she'd ever dreamed. But what the hell, she loves it anyway, and hopes that readers enjoy the results of her alchemical experiments. She loves to hear from her readers. Contact her at her website, http://shannonmckenna.com, or join the newsletter by signing up here: http://shannonmckenna.com/connect.php.

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