Snake Charmer by Carol Lynne – Guest Blog and Giveaway

7_28 Carol Lynne_Snake Charmer_Book Tour_final

Join Carol Lynne on her blog tour to celebrate the release of Snake Charmer. Find out more about her and her writing as each day she reveals answers to more questions.

 

Snake Charmer is book 31 in the Cattle Valley series, how do you continue to come up with inspiration for new titles in this series?

I’ve been writing Cattle Valley for so many years that it truly is a real town in my head. I try to imagine all the people coming in and out, and I believe everyone has a story that needs to be told. The man at the grocery store, the local bartender and the mailman, all have a story. No matter what occupation people have, what they’re background is, everyone has a unique life, which ultimately is going to be an intriguing base for a new story. The inspiration comes from the fact that that I have built this town and the men of Cattle Valley are mine and it’s up to me to give them the happily-ever-after they deserve.

When the concept for Cattle Valley came to me, I decided I needed a website for the town. I’d hoped it would give the stories an added dimension, and it was so much fun to create. What I didn’t realize at the time, was that the website would convince some people that Cattle Valley was literally a real town. For the first several years, I received emails asking for directions because people couldn’t find it on the map. They would email the mayor via the website asking political questions. While it made me feel good that people loved the town, it also made me feel bad. I suddenly felt like I was tricking them, something I never set out to do. I still have the website and it gets updated with my new releases. You can check it out at http://www.CattleValley.net.

Snake Charmer is the newest release from the Cattle Valley series and this story explores the relationship between Snake and Riley.

7_28 snakecharmer_800Sometimes it takes finding an opposite to show us the beauty within ourselves.

When security consultant and ex-mercenary, Gabrielo ‘Snake’ Barbas, thwarts an attack of one of his co-workers, Riley Banks, he takes it upon himself to keep the smaller man safe. His job is made harder when he discovers the attacker is actually Riley’s ex-boyfriend, a ruthless man from a very wealthy and powerful family.

After a night of passion, Snake decides to take Riley far away from Richmond, Virginia to a town in Wyoming for the annual Cattle Valley Days celebration. He should have known that sex with Riley wouldn’t be enough, but he feels he has nothing else to give such a nice guy. Riley is the sexiest man Snake’s ever taken to his bed despite Riley’s claim otherwise.

Riley knows he’s average-looking at best, so why does Snake continue to flatter him? It’s obvious he’s not going to kick Snake out of bed, even after Snake informs him that sex is all he has to give. Why does Snake see him so differently than the rest of the world?

While Riley is busy trying to figure out the man who touches him like no other has before, Snake is busy trying to protect him from a monster in a business suit.

 

Like the sound of Snake Charmer? You can purchase from Totally Bound today: https://www.totallybound.com/snake-charmer?utm_source=longandshortreviews&utm_medium=blogtour&utm_campaign=snakecharmerblogtour

About the Author:  An avid reader for years, one day Carol Lynne decided to write her own brand of erotic romance. Carol juggles between being a full-time mother and a full-time writer. These days, you can usually find Carol either cleaning jelly out of the carpet or nestled in her favourite chair writing steamy love scenes.

Author Link: https://www.totallybound.com/author/carol-lynne?utm_source=longandshortreviews&utm_medium=blogtour&utm_campaign=carollynneblogtour

Where SFF May Go by S.L. Dunn – Guest Blog and Giveaway

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This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Enter the Rafflecopter to win a $50 Amazon or Barnes and Noble gift card. You can see the other stops on the tour by clicking on the tour banner.

Long and Short Reviews asked S.L. Dunn, “What directions/topics/issues would you like to see SFF authors take on?”

Science fiction is often used as a mechanism to reflect a given time’s anxieties toward social movements and technology. In the wake of WWII, books like 1984 and Farenheit 451 gave life to the fears people had toward a potential future where creativity and individuality were snubbed out in the name of order. In the 1960s, science fiction began to elevate in thematic imagination, with novels like Dune, A Wrinkle In Time, and 2001 A Space Odyssey. This doesn’t come as a surprise when one considers that the 1960’s were a decade of applicable scientific imagination, (the space race comes to mind).

As I write this blog post, I’m sitting in the shadow of the Seattle Space Needle, an art piece erected for the 1962 World’s Fair—its skyward pointing apex making not so subtle an implication of where the people of 1962 saw humanity headed.

But over the course of the second half of the 20th century, I think technology turned in a direction that people had not anticipated. In 1962 people saw a glimmering future of the Jetsons, monorails and space ships. But in reality, the forthcoming technology instead took the form of computers, the Internet, cyberspace and automation. I think the second half of the 20th century’s innovation wasn’t quite as tangible as people would have envisioned beforehand.

And just as before, this movement toward a digital-abstract-future also had an effect on science fiction. From space and aliens, the genre moved to digital horizons, the idea of simulacra, and the birth of cyberpunk. Neuromancer, Snowcrash and The Matrix come to mind.

Arriving at today: a modern world of tenuous resources, rising temperatures, and growing fears of our global actions as a species, we are greeted by mostly post-apocalyptic science fiction. In today’s science fiction, a common theme is a setting that takes place over or within the ashes of our fallen world.

2014’s fears gravitate around climate change and the loss of individual privacy. Particular to these fears is the awareness that the furtherance of technology might just act to exacerbate these problems instead of alleviating them. There’s a certain bleakness that permeates the modern age when it comes to the future of technology. In today’s science fiction, that bleakness takes the form of dystopia and post-apocalypse narratives—of a future where our immediate destruction is a foregone conclusion.

I think it’s very difficult to predict where the future of science fiction is headed, but I suspect it might move (paradoxically) away from science and toward the humanities. I think we’re living in an age where science is no longer perceived of as a form of salvation, and instead is seen more of an inconvenient truth (at best) or something to be feared (at worst). In that sense, I think we’re going to see an evolution of science fiction into narratives that address social issues that have been historically relegated to sociology and anthropology classrooms.

MEDIA KIT AnthemsFall_ebookAbove a horrified New York City, genetics and ethics collide as the fallen emperor and a banished exile of the same herculean race ignite into battle over the city’s rooftops. In the streets below, a brilliant young scientist has discovered a technology that can defeat them both, yet might be more terrible than either.

Set both in modern New York City and in the technologically sophisticated yet politically savage world of Anthem, Anthem’s Fall unfurls into a plot where larger than life characters born with the prowess of gods are pitted against the shrewd brilliance of a familiar and unlikely heroine.

Enjoy an excerpt:

“Yes, Lord Vengelis!” the boy called, but suddenly froze with fear. The boy began trembling, his chest convulsing in terror. Vengelis slowly turned and looked in all directions. Hysteria was rampant; men, women, and children were running every direction, many horribly wounded. None of them were soldiers. The fire was blazing out of control, and the entire block was immersed in raging flames.

A woman standing nearby, just below a broad tilted awning, remained unscathed. Her appearance contrasted strangely with the mayhem around them. She was thin and average sized, of Royal appearance, with blonde hair and bright blue eyes. Tattered ribbons of the awning and bits of orange cinders and ash blew all about her. She was smiling at Vengelis, her teeth white and perfect. Vengelis was taken aback.

Her eyes.

Vengelis squinted through the billowing ash and felt an eerie sense of disquiet surface within him. Her eyes were not quite right. There was a glowing property to her stare, as though her eyes were emitting a strange blue radiance. She was beautiful, but the serene way she was smiling in the midst of the madness was peculiarly horrifying.

“State your name and rank!” Vengelis called out.

The boy stifled a small cry as the woman’s smile broadened. Vengelis glared and turned his attention from her to the boy. In a corner of his mind he already knew he was speaking to one of the Felixes. She moved her unsettling gaze from Vengelis to the boy. The boy let out a terrible sob and released the soldier he had been dragging. The woman took a step closer to the child.

There was no longer any doubt in Vengelis’s mind.

The woman whirled into motion, dashing toward the boy and reaching for his throat. The boy flinched and locked his eyes shut, expecting instant death. But it did not come. He peered through his trembling eyelids after a moment passed. The woman was still reaching for his throat, though now just in front of him. Vengelis had closed the distance and grabbed her wrist with his left hand, stopping the strike in its tracks. Her fingernails were reaching out longingly, inches from the boy’s neck. The woman turned to Vengelis, her expression vacant.

“Huge . . . mistake,” Vengelis growled through gritted teeth, his knuckles white from the vice grip on her wrist. “Get out of here, kid.”

About the Author:S.L. Dunn is the debut author of Anthem’s Fall, a novel he wrote amid the wanderings of his mid twenties. He has written while living intermittently in St. John USVI, Boston, Maine and Seattle. Raised on big screen superheroes and pop science fiction, he sought to create a novel that bridged a near-sci-fi thriller with a grand new fantasy. He currently resides in Seattle with his girlfriend Liz and their dog Lucy, and is hard at work completing the next book of the Anthem’s Fall series. Get in touch at www.sldunn.com.

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The Longest Night by Kara Braden – a guest blog and giveaway

Welcome Kara Braden to Long and Short Reviews. The publisher is giving one randomly drawn commenter a print copy of The Longest Night (US/Canada only).

A Guest Blog by Kara Braden

The Longest Night is a story of love in isolation. It’s a pretty simple premise: Take two single people, add the rustic romance of a snowy cabin in the woods, stir in a little bit of a mystery behind in heroine’s past, and you’ve got a recipe for romance. Right?

Not so fast! This isn’t the story of love at first sight. The hero and heroine, Ian and Cecily, start out as polite strangers.

As far as Ian is concerned, there’s no rustic romance in his isolated cabin. Instead, it’s a prison, a way to keep him away from the temptation to abuse painkillers so he can get back to his high-stress, adrenaline-charged job as a Manhattan criminal attorney.

The heroine, Cecily has zero interest in any romance, even one with a handsome, intelligent, successful man like Ian. And if Ian’s substance abuse problems aren’t enough, Cecily has her own demons, driving her to live in isolation for the last seven years.

So how did I, as the writer, get them to their happily ever after? What’s the secret to their success?

I let them find their own way.

Some people think there are two types of writers: plotters, who create detailed outlines before setting down even one word of the actual plot, and pantsers, who write by the seat of their pants, making up the story as they go.

I’m a pantser. I create deeply detailed characters with rich personalities and backstories. Then I set up a scenario — in this case, isolation in Cecily’s cabin — and let them tell me how their relationship comes about.

Each step the characters take is logical, realistic, and entirely appropriate. Every emotion, every misunderstanding, every moment of passion is organic, not scripted. The story builds, step-by-step, sometimes one step forward and two steps back. At no point did I twist the story to match an outline or force the characters to act in a way that contradicts what they’d be feeling or thinking at that moment. I didn’t have a formula with milestones for each chapter.

Instead, I listened to the characters and let them fall in love the way they wanted. And in the end, I believe I’ve created a love story that I hope you’ll find rich and rewarding to read.

About the Author:

 photo credit Stephanie Cole

photo credit Stephanie Cole

Kara Braden makes her debut in modern romance with a story of love in isolation. She believes that engaging, romantic fantasy can be found everywhere in the world, even in the most unlikely places. With the support of her wonderful husband, cats, and dogs, she writes from her home office outside Phoenix, Arizona, where she spends her time hiding from the sunlight and heat.

Author Website: http://karabraden.com/

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/karabradenauthor

Twitter: https://twitter.com/KaraBraden @KaraBraden

Pinterest: http://www.pinterest.com/KaraBraden/

Tumblr: http://karabraden.tumblr.com/

Buy Links: Amazon , Barnes & Noble , Books A Million , Hastings , IndieBound , Indigo , iTunes , Kobo

AUTHOR INTERVIEW: Ava Bleu

Long and Short Reviews welcomes Ava Bleu whose newest book Glorious Sunset, an edgy inspirational romance releases August 26.

She’s currently working on another edgy inspirational that centers on a heroine who is at the height of a nervous breakdown. It’s also a romantic comedy.

Ava said with a smile, “Hey, if a breakdown can’t inspire comedy, what can?”

Ava has been writing for fun since she was old enough to hold a pencil. She began writing for a purpose when she found herself working a job that she was less-than-enthusiastic about.

“I wondered if there was a possibility of earning a living from doing what I love. That was about 15 years ago. I am not yet earning a living doing what I love,” she admitted, “but I find it makes the days working that nine-to-five a little more bearable.”

Ava thinks that the most important thing in any novel is strong characterization.

“You can get away with wicked unrealistic storylines if the reader likes and believes in the characters enough. Look at my novel about a time-traveling king granting wishes to save his soul. A reader could think that’s ridiculous or a reader could think that’s fantastic. I’m putting my money on my strong hero and his ability to persuade people to think it’s fantastic,” she said.

She always starts off with the plot for her book, but as the characters develop–the story changes.

“I haven’t written one book that didn’t deviate drastically from my original plan,” she explained. “The characters and their development really lead the story for me. I try to go with it because once you feel their voices taking over it’s like a zen moment.”

Ava told me that her dogs have taken over her office and made it their room.

“Occasionally they’ll let me use the PC but only if I allow them to play with my toes or risk getting one chewed off if I’m wearing slippers and they think my foot is a chew toy. I now write like a vagabond, carting my laptop with me to wherever I can find space,” she said. “I feel like Dr. David Banner (a.k.a.,the Hulk), always moving throughout the house, always with that sad music following me until I camp in a new location … and the dogs find me and my toes again. They don’t understand the concept of ‘mommy needs her toes’ or ‘yuck’.”

“What would you say is your most interesting writing quirk?” I asked.

“Is wine a quirk or a magic elixir?”

“Probably a magic elixer. What about your most embarrassing moment?”

“This is really one of those stories that is much more interesting with a bottle of tequila next to a roaring fireplace, but here goes.

“I fell down the stairs at a mega-church. It was my first visit and I had raised my hand thinking I was praising God, turns out I was volunteering to come down and be saved. I’m all for saving, but that wasn’t my intent. I distinctly remember thinking ‘what a crock, this place is a racket…’ and just like that, foot slipped and I took an epic tumble. If you’ve ever been in a mega church you know how long those staircases are. It was like I was in the middle of a Carol Burnett skit – I just kept rolling and sliding and showing my goodies. And all the way I could hear people gasping and
‘oh no-ing’. When I stopped I was fuzzy and I remember being helped up. To the waiting doctor or nurse, you ask? No, to the back room to be saved. Call me crazy, but I was concerned with my brain matter and just how much of my privates had been seen by the congregation (and hoping the whole thing wasn’t broadcast on that jumbo-tron screen at the front). Not to mention the rug burn, scrapes and bruises—thankfully, nothing broken.

“I decided if they cared so little about my physical well-being they couldn’t really be trusted with my spiritual well-being.”

If you have read Ava’s first romance, The Diva of Peddler’s Creek, you may have noticed that she loves food. She’s always looking for the best, and right now she thinks that’s probably a dish called Chicken Oscar. I don’t know if this is the recipe she uses, but it sounds yummy. Don’t feed her souse meat, however!

“I had it when I was three and have still not forgotten the horror,”she assured me.

No matter how much she likes food, she doesn’t want it to touch on the plate.

“If I have a hot dog on a plate, please make sure that potato salad doesn’t touch the edge of my bun,” she said. “On second thought, I’ll get my own food, it’s safer that way.”

“Have you ever eaten a crayon?” I asked.

“Absolutely. Isn’t that the rite of passage for the honor of starting kindergarten?”

“Well, I don’t remember eating crayons (though I’m sure I did), but I do remember eating that paste that smelled like spearmint.”

“Ebook or print?” I wondered. “And why?”

“Ebooks are here to stay and I’m glad because I believe a lot of people are reading that normally would not because of it. But my personal choice is print all the way, baby! For me, reading is an experience, the memories live in the sense of touch, the smell of the paper, the sound of the pages turning … all those things combine to transport you to a different space. It just feels like when you’re on a device, the device and handling it kind of steal the attention away a little.”

Finally, I asked, “What advice would you give a new writer just starting out?”

“If you’re considering writing for a living, don’t waste years wondering if you’re good enough to be in the game. Doubt will eat up valuable time and, in truth, the only way to find out if it is for you is to do it and put yourself out there. Rest assured, the industry will let you know if you suck. You’ll either decide it’s worth the pain and neurosis or you’ll decide you’d rather do other things with your life. I’m kind of fond of the neurosis at this point. Why, if I didn’t send out every manuscript thinking the industry was out to personally destroy my brilliant, creative voice, I would never try so hard to do better. I suspect that’s the sickness that separates the normal people from the writers.”

7_28 Glorious-Sunset-front-final[1]African King Taka Olufemi has traveled over four hundred years to find the woman who holds the soul of his murdered queen and he’s a little cranky. With a ruby brooch as his vessel, the former king is forced to grant wishes to ungrateful mortals hoping to one day find, and win, the heart of his lost love.

But it will take more than good looks, superior intelligence and an impressive pedigree to earn the love of Violet Jackson. The ambitious interior designer doesn’t remember Taka or their history. Love—with its inevitable heartbreak chaser—has no place in Violet’s immediate life plan. All the handsome “genie” can do for her is pony up on the three wishes he’s promised and try not to be a pain while he’s at it.

While the arrogant king is praying for his submissive queen and the faithless object of his affection isn’t praying at all, guardian angel, Aniweto, is praying for them both. With Ani’s help, Taka and Violet’s epic love will be rekindled and this royal couple-behaving-badly will finally earn their happily-ever-after through the grace of the Almighty.

About the Author: 7_28 croppedpicava[1]Ava Bleu lives and loves in the Midwest, countering bitter winters with smooth jazz and tasty edibles. A book-lover, author, artist and photographer, Ava believes creativity in any form is worth celebrating. She can be found in bookstores and the public library camped next to the cookbooks and/or on the town keeping an eye out for hero-material.

Ava Bleu ~ Twitter ~ Facebook

Buy the book at Amazon or Barnes and Noble.

Backward Compatible by Pete Clark – Spotlight and Giveaway

NBtM Backwards Compatible Tour Banner copy
This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. The authors will be giving away one signed paperbacks of the book, two swag packs, and two ebooks of choice of Pete’s from Smashwords to randomly drawn commenters at the end of the tour (5 winners). Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

 

MEDIA KIT CoverNot too long ago, in a town that, depending on your current location, is either not super far or actually quite close…

It is a time of chaotic hormones.

Two nerdy gents home for winter break have discovered a female gamer at a midnight release.

During the break, the gamer trio manages to reveal the game’s secret boss, a hidden enemy with enough power to destroy anything in its path.

Pursued by other gamers who want to be the first to beat this boss, George and Katie race to level up, and, in so doing, restore decency and sexual activity to their personal galaxy…

Enjoy an excerpt:

“These graphics suck,” George says and I look back at the screen. We’re standing in the middle of the Estate, colorful orbs quivering ahead of us. We each have to choose our starting advantage. Waterfalls shimmer in the distance and the sunlight streams over multicolored stones in the courtyard.

“Amateurs,” Lanyon concurs. “I mean, they couldn’t have five waterfalls?”

“Your ironic wit is mind blowing, but choose your damn orbs,” I tell them. I consider. Magic, defense, offense, stealth, and charisma. I always go for magic as a black mage, but I wonder if a druid needs something else. Screw it. I need charisma in real life, too.

“Charisma?” Lanyon asks. “No one ever picks charisma.”

“We’re a party of a thief, druid, and a bard. We’re screwed regardless.”

“You two underestimate the mighty power of my lute,” George argues.

“Did you start with charisma?” Lanyon asks.

“Hell, no. I have charisma in spades. I started with stealth.”

“Great. A stealthy bard,” I sigh.

“She’s right,” Lanyon concedes. “We’re screwed.”

However, it actually isn’t bad at all at first. We power through the Estate and make it to the Yobanaria Dale with no resurrections and all at level ten. I’m impressed. George hasn’t actually fought anything, but he has some pretty awe-inspiring charm mastery already. I think I might have a serious crush. He seals the deal when he buffs my hailstorm spell without even being asked.

“Can you guys watch El Thiefelo? My mom wants me to eat supper,” Lanyon says.

“Yeah, we’ve got it,” I tell him. “The first boss is in the elven ruins anyway, so we should grind a bit. I think he’s a twelve.”

George and I explore the Dale, taking out bats and Joba spores. It’s fairly quiet, except for when we combo with his charms and my spells and he yells out, “Eat lute, bitch,” but it’s nice. We work well, almost inherently understanding each other. I’ve never been able to play this effectively with anyone. I try not to think about his eyes. Stupid boys, being cute and stuff.

By the time Lanyon comes back, we’re all at level 12, although Lanyon leveled up just by standing by a door while we played. Still, we are ready to take on Balsa the Proud. As a black mage, it took me about nine seconds. Trees don’t like fire. However, druids don’t have the same level of black magic and all elemental magic is weakened by the need to draw from the elements nearby. Sadly, trees seem to avoid storing fire runes in their villages. I expect this to be a little more challenging. It might even take fifteen seconds.

“First boss. Also known as the freebie bitch to sucker the young folks into a false sense of security,” Lanyon announces as he runs into the center of Balsa’s lair. The cinema plays and then, in a moment of pure absurdity, El Thiefelo is squished as Balsa steps on him.

“Can someone revive me?” Lanyon whines.

Pete Clark likes writing, animals, potato chips, and cheese. Midnight Riders is his first published novel, although he can also proudly say he finally finished Helix Crashing, the fantasy novel he has been working on for over a decade. In addition, he has written Across the Barren Landscape, a collection of linked Western short stories. He also writes plays, both dramatic and comedic.

When he is not writing, Pete tends to ignore everyone around him and obsess over sports.

Author Social Media Links:

 

Pete’s Website: http://punchmyselfintheface.wordpress.com
Pete’s Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/PeteClarkAuthor
Pete’s Twitter: http://twitter.com/PeteClarkBooks

Buy the book at Amazon, Amazon UK, iTunes, Barnes and Noble, Kobo, Smashwords, or All Romance eBooks.

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What’s His Passion Launch Blog Tour – Giveaway

7_28 WHP_LM Somerton_Book Tour_final

To celebrate the launch of What’s his Passion? Totally Bound Publishing are giving away a bundle of great prizes. Click on the banner to enter the giveaway.

A bit about L.M. Somerton:

I’ve answered a lot of blog interview questions in the past, here are a few of my favorites on a whole range of random subjects!

Do you believe in love at first sight?
I do – what a lovely fantasy – but it’s never happened to me sadly, I’m more of a slow burn girl!

If you could live anywhere in the world where would it be?
Wasdale in the English Lake District or maybe the North Cornwall coast. Can I have cottages in both places please?

If you were to do a reality show, which one would it be?
Strictly Come Dancing – love the sparkly dresses and the fit male dancers!

What is the craziest, most exciting, or most dangerous thing you’ve ever done?
I’ve white water rafted the Zambezi – definitely the scariest thing I’ve ever done.

Name a celebrity, athlete, musician, etc. you’d most like to get naughty with.
Just one? That’s too difficult…. Okay, Tyler Hoechlin who plays Derek in Teen Wolf. Scrummy.

Favourite movie?
The Sting

Dream Car?
Aston Martin DB9

Favourite Ice Cream Flavour?
Vanilla (yes, really!)

7_28 picturinglysander_800Photography, like love, should have no limits.

Lysander Brock is a talented photographer and capturing the perfect picture is his passion. His work takes him all over the world and he is famous for his willingness to take risks for the perfect image.

Kyle Dawson is tasked by his mysterious employer to obtain Brock’s services for a dangerous job and he’s prepared to use any method to ensure that the young photographer does as he’s told. Breaking and entering and blackmail are just tools of his trade.

Despite the circumstances, the spark of attraction between Brock and Kyle is strong. Brock’s addiction to adrenaline-fuelled adventure holds him captive, just as much as Kyle’s brooding dominant appeal. As a fragile trust builds between them, Kyle takes a gamble and tells Brock the truth about his mission. Can Brock accept the challenges ahead—as a photographer and as a man?

Buy Picturing Lysander here.

About the Author: Lucinda lives in a small village in the English countryside, surrounded by rolling hills, cows and sheep. She started writing to fill time between jobs and is now firmly and unashamedly addicted.

She loves the English weather, especially the rain, and adores a thunderstorm. She loves good food, warm company and a crackling fire. She’s fascinated by the psychology of relationships, especially between men, and her stories contain some subtle (and not so subtle) leanings towards BDSM.

Author link:
Totally Bound.

Ten Things You Might Not Know About Traci Borum – Guest Blog and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by the publisher – Red Adept Publishing. Enter the Rafflecopter at the end of this post for some cool swag!

Ten Things People Might Not Know About Me
by Traci Borum

1. I don’t have a weakness for chocolate, like most people. My weakness is donuts. I could probably eat six glazed donuts in one sitting, if I didn’t stop myself.

2. When I was seventeen years old, I sang a solo in front of twenty thousand people at Reunion Arena (in Dallas, Texas). It was the prize for winning a solo contest at an earlier church youth camp.

3. Every time I start brainstorming my characters, I have to “cast” them. I have to picture a very specific actor or actress in my mind as I write, or else the characters’ faces become a big blob to me and I can’t “see” them. The same is true when I’m reading a book. I have to “cast” the characters to see them clearly enough. Does that make me weird??

4. There are eleven teachers on my mother’s side of the family. I guess teaching is in my genes.

5. I could sit and watch British sitcoms or mini-series all day long. I don’t have enough time, but if I did, I would. I never get tired of those accents, I guess. Or the period dramas. Another time, another place…

6. In my twenties, I moved eight different times in a nine-year period. Exhausting. I don’t recommend it.

7. My 92-year-old grandmother, Della, was the main inspiration for the “Joy” character in Painting the Moon. For my birthday, she surprised me with an oil painting of the fictional Cotswold village where the book takes place. That painting became the top header of my author website.

8. I love teaching Shakespeare to college students—seeing their eyes glaze over when I first mention The Bard, then watching them, class-by-class, scene-by-scene, get excited about the characters and involved in the plots.

9. I have wide, eclectic tastes in music: jazz and big band, Eighties hair bands, classical, British pop, a little country, Irish instrumental, and indie/coffeehouse.

10. My journey to publication was a long and rough road. But I’m grateful I didn’t get published in my twenties when I first started experimenting with novels. Over the years, I’ve had time to study other writers, hone my craft, attend writers’ conferences, meet other writers, and write, write, write. And edit. There’s no quick-and-easy substitute for that.

8_1 Painting-the-Moon-800 Cover reveal and PromotionalWhen Noelle Cooke inherits a quaint English cottage and an art gallery from her famous Aunt Joy, she welcomes a departure from her San Diego routine. But the lure of the Cotswolds, combined with a locked cottage room and a revealing journal, entice her to stay and discover more, including a way to save the gallery from financial ruin. And that means remaining in England. When her childhood sweetheart, Adam Spencer, begins work on a restoration project in Noelle’s village, their friendship blossoms. But as her feelings for Adam deepen, she struggles with memories of what might have been and yearns for a future once thought lost. Faced with a life-altering revelation Aunt Joy took to her grave and a wrenching choice regarding the man she loves, Noelle could lose far more than her heart.

Enjoy this excerpt:

The moment she saw the letter, she knew. The London postmark gave it away.

Noelle set down her keys and coffee, deciding to abandon the rest of her Saturday errands. She needed to take this letter to the ocean. She couldn’t read it here, standing over junk mail and bills.

She kicked off her sandals and walked down the steps of her beach house, grateful for San Diego’s mild weather even in mid-October. And grateful she wouldn’t have to walk far, with the ocean practically at her doorstep.

When she picked her usual spot at the water’s edge and sat down, the foamy water crept toward her toes like long, greedy fingers then slinked back again. Noelle always sought the ocean during troubling moments—craved the sea air on her face, the tinge of salt on her tongue, the comforting swoosh of powerful waves. But sometimes, even the sea couldn’t keep her from feeling hollow. Stranded and alone.
She’d already torn the envelope’s seal on her way down the steps. Opening the letter, she noticed the date, wondering why the news had taken two whole weeks to reach her.

Dear Ms. Cooke,
We regret to inform you of the unfortunate passing of Ms. Joy Valentine.

Great Aunt Joy had died alone in that cottage.

Noelle stared deep into the ocean as tears stung her eyes. Everything had gone quiet: the crash of waves, even the faint tapping of a neighbor’s roof being re-shingled two doors down. All silent.
In the dull gray sky above the ocean, Noelle could see almost slideshow-like, vivid images of her great aunt. Her thin-lipped, lopsided smile; wiry, gray hair secured by a pencil into a makeshift bun; deep wrinkles around her mouth and eyes from decades of smoking. And next, flashes of summers spent in England with her and Gram—white-haired and soft-spoken, the opposite of her sister. Those women had taught Noelle to paint, to enjoy literature, to savor life. Her surrogate mothers, she always called them. Now both gone, the end of an era.

Noelle shivered and wished she’d brought a sweater. It always seemed colder at the water’s edge. Brushing away a tear, she returned to the letter, skimming for more detail. She stopped at this:

As Ms. Valentine’s only living relative, you have hereby been named executor and sole heir of the estate. Please contact our office for further details.

Sole heir. Noelle considered what that might entail. Her aunt’s modest cottage nestled in a village in the Cotswolds, Chilton Crosse. And the art gallery! Noelle hadn’t stepped inside in fourteen years, since she was seventeen. If she concentrated, she could still smell the pungent turpentine and old, musty wood that greeted her when she opened the door. The back room had served as a working gallery, where artists set up and painted while visitors wandered quietly, gazing at masterpieces-in-progress. Occasionally, Aunt Joy even participated. But that was before her sudden retreat into obscurity. Noelle recalled the scandal of that winter, a decade ago, with perfect clarity. Online articles screamed out the embarrassing headlines: Famous Cotswold Artist Has Monster Meltdown; Storms out of Art Show.

No one ever knew what happened, never discovered the trigger that had caused Aunt Joy’s breakdown and subsequent retreat into reclusiveness. Noelle had tried to call her, write her, but the dozens of letters went unanswered. She didn’t know whether her aunt had even received them, or whether Joy had tired of all the probing questions: “Are you okay? I’m worried… why won’t you return my calls?” Joy finally sent one brief letter to Noelle, assuring her she was fine, but that she wanted—needed—to be left alone. She asked that Noelle respect her wishes and her privacy. And so she had.

Restless, Noelle rose and brushed the sand off her jeans. She needed to go inside, make a cup of tea, and banish the chill.

She headed back to the house with the letter, thinking about Joy’s funeral, wondering if it had been a media circus, with paparazzi descending on the unimposing village to fill the inches in their columns the next day. Or perhaps the church was almost empty, her aunt a forgotten figure even in her own community. In either case, Noelle wished she’d been there. And more than that, she wished she’d made contact with her aunt before she died. Just one more time.

She maneuvered her way toward the kitchen through the maze of stacked-up boxes—surely, her roommate, Casey, would retrieve them next week after the honeymoon. But something caught Noelle’s eye. The painting above the mantel, one that had been there for years, one she’d strolled past a thousand times.
Now, though, she couldn’t look at anything else. She drew closer and clicked on a nearby light to study the painting’s detail. One of Aunt Joy’s creations, given to Noelle on her fourteenth birthday—a seaside painting of England’s Cornwall coast. She touched the edge of the frame and peered at the canvas. A white-blond little girl stood at the cliffs, staring into the ocean and holding a broad-brimmed hat, its ribbon floating in the wind. Noelle could almost hear the bluish-gray water crash against the rocks as she looked beyond the little girl, into the endless sea.

Joy explained it that day, as a teenaged Noelle tore the gold wrapping paper. “The little girl in the painting, that’s you on your very first visit to us. I think you were five. I knew how frightened you were, being in England with virtual strangers. But the moment we took you to the sea, to Cornwall, you responded. You seemed calm, at home. And I wanted to paint you that way. To freeze you in time.”

Noelle took a few steps back to sit on the couch, to wish herself into the painting. To those summers spent in England, where everything remained safe, intact.

Not that she didn’t appreciate her life now. But lately, she’d become… stilted. Uneasy. An unfulfilling job, a stagnant social life, where she only played a role of herself, a pretend version. But those precious English summers centered her, brought out her genuine self. And she craved that again more than ever.

* * * *

On Monday morning, Noelle brushed out her honey-blond bangs and gave them a spray, planning what to say to the lawyer, Mr. Lester. She needed to phone his office before work, over a quick breakfast. Last night before bed, she’d done the math in her head, taking time zones into account. 8:00 a.m. San Diego equaled 4:00 p.m. London.

She stood in the kitchen with her back against the countertop and slathered cream cheese onto a bagel. Knowing that Casey was married, truly gone, gave the house a specific emptiness. Especially since Noelle hadn’t found a roommate to replace her yet.

She took a bite and dialed the number of the London firm. She thought she’d have to wait a few rings, but on the very first one, a thin male voice answered, “Hello?”

Nearly choking on the bagel scraping down her throat, she swallowed and tried to respond. “I’d like to speak with Mr. Lester.”

“This is he.”

She took a fast sip of orange juice, cleared her throat, and said, “I’m Noelle Cooke. I received a letter from your firm on Saturday. About my aunt passing away. Joy Valentine?”

“Oh, yes. Noelle.” He stretched out all the vowels. Everything sounded better wrapped in a British accent. “Thank you for responding so promptly.”

He issued condolences and apologized for not contacting Noelle sooner, explaining his first notification went to an old address, then they got down to business.

“As you’re aware, your aunt has left you her entire estate. This includes the properties of Primrose Cottage as well as the Artist’s Gallery.”

“I’m still in a bit of shock over all this.”

“Yes, quite. There are decisions to be made. The gallery is… how do I put this delicately? Financially unstable.”

“Oh. I had no idea.”

“Miss Cooke, these matters would actually be best discussed in person. I know it’s asking much, but might you be able to travel to England? My office is in London, but I have an early business meeting in Bath, near Chilton Crosse, day after tomorrow. You could stay at your aunt’s—or rather, your cottage. The curator could also meet with you to discuss the gallery.”

The idea of seeing the cottage and gallery was thrilling. She assumed no one but Joy had stepped inside those cottage doors in the past decade. Perhaps its contents might offer hints about her aunt’s reclusive period.

“I could meet with you there on my way back to London,” Mr. Lester continued. “There are many papers to sign and—”

“And decisions to be made.”

“Indeed. Urgently, in fact.”

In this Age of Technology, they could still handle the details if she stayed in California. Email, phone, FedEx, fax—back and forth, back and forth. But doing so might stretch things out to weeks, and Mr. Lester indicated they didn’t have weeks. The debt collectors might pounce soon. If she did travel to England, they could manage things in a few days. Plus, she could use that time to sort through the contents of the cottage—old family heirlooms, dishware, or valuables she wanted to keep.

Dan, her boss, would balk about her leaving with such short notice, but too bad. She would remind him that she had vacation time and sick leave, lots of it. Surely, she deserved time for a personal emergency. Noelle could work the rest of the day then leave for England late tonight, with Desha covering her workload and meetings until Thursday. Dan couldn’t say no.

“Yes. I can do that,” she told Mr. Lester decisively. “Let me make some arrangements and get back to you.”

“Excellent.”

“Oh, one more thing. The letter never mentioned. How did my aunt pass away?”

“It was a stroke that took her. Instantly, from what I heard.”

She hadn’t suffered.

The moment she hung up with Mr. Lester, Noelle remembered she would have to postpone the interview tomorrow with John Hill Advertising. She had worked so hard the last two months, polishing her resume, searching online listings for new job openings, scheduling secret interviews during lunch hours or after work. Nothing had panned out yet, but she had been particularly hopeful about tomorrow, a second interview with the senior manager. John Hill represented salvation, her escape from a job and a company she had once loved. But everything had soured drastically when Dan took over last year. The office politics, the backbiting, the pointless meetings and toxic environment. Enough was enough.

She took another bite and peered out the window. She loved it here—seagulls, beaches, the steady shush of the ocean. But the house, even the gorgeous beach view, had lately become redundant.

Can a “seven-year itch” apply to someone’s whole life?

8_1 Traci Borum Profile Pic 2Traci Borum is a writing teacher and native Texan. She’s also an avid reader of women’s fiction, most especially Elin Hilderbrand and Rosamunde Pilcher novels. Since the age of 12, she’s written poetry, short stories, magazine articles, and novels.

Traci also adores all things British. She even owns a British dog (Corgi) and is completely addicted to Masterpiece Theater-must be all those dreamy accents! Aside from having big dreams of getting a book published, it’s the little things that make her the happiest: deep talks with friends, a strong cup of hot chocolate, a hearty game of fetch with her Corgi, and puffy white Texas clouds always reminding her to “look up, slow down, enjoy your life.”

Website ~ Goodreads

Buy the book at Amazon.

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Together Always by Mimi Barbour

Cover_Together Always

Together Always by Mimi Barbour
Publisher: Self
Genre: Contemporary, Paranormal
Length: Full (181 pgs)
Heat: spicy
Rated: 4 stars
Review by Poppy

A new body, a new life…

Because of a facial disfigurement, Nurse Grace Joye has never felt beautiful, and when she’s told a brain tumor will end her life within a matter of weeks, she’s devastated. Grace’s friend, psychiatrist Dr. Robert Andrews has been experimenting with spirit travel. He suggests that Grace transfers her spirit to the body of his newest patient–Mrs. Vanessa Knight, a gorgeous-looking woman who is soon to be released from life-support. Grace doesn’t need much convincing to take this drastic step. She will live on and realize her two dreams: to be a mother, and be loved by a man. Only to hear her soon-to-be husband’s whispered words just before the life-support is switched off: “Good-bye, darling. I’m glad I’ll never have to see you again.”

Lucas Knight has been contentedly preparing for Vanessa’s death. Throughout their marriage, this volatile woman had become increasingly vicious towards him and their young son. Therefore, he’s appalled and traumatized when, miraculously, she comes out of her coma. Strangely, this girl isn’t anything like the witch he’d said goodbye to. He could love this gentle angel. But, can he trust her to stay this way?

Fascinating idea! I loved the concept of a terminally ill woman switching bodies with another woman who’s been declared brain dead, especially when the woman suffers from a physical disfigurement and has never felt beautiful, and the body she’s taking is just amazingly lovely. Since Grace is gorgeous on the inside, she deserved for her outside to match.

I also liked the idea that the husband of the brain dead woman, Vanessa, hated her passionately and wanted nothing more than to see the plug pulled. It certainly added plenty of conflict, especially when his “wife” comes back to life and has a completely different temperament.

The secondary characters certainly added flavor here. Comic relief of a sort came from Mrs. Dorn and occasionally from Grace’s dearest friend, Tobias, who’s the man behind the idea for the switch. My heart absolutely broke for Lucas and Vanessa’s son, Samuel. He’s the sweetest child and when we hear why he took his mother’s picture, and the punishment he received for the theft, well … it certainly didn’t endear Vanessa to me and helped me understand why Lucas felt as he did.

The only struggle I had came when Vanessa entered the picture. I truly hated her passionately, possibly more than Lucas did. What she did and her previous behavior was unforgiveable. Clearly Grace is a much kinder person than I am, as she strove to help Vanessa get past all the things that made her the way she was. But my negative feelings for her were so strong, it was all I could do to read through those portions where she participated. And there’s a significant part near the end where it’s all Vanessa. Had I not been reading for review, I might have been tempted to put the book down. On the other hand, it’s a testament to the author’s skill that I became so involved with all the characters and felt as strongly as I did. If they hadn’t been so realistically written, I wouldn’t have cared so much.

The author has a descriptive way with words that I appreciated and the story was cleanly edited and enjoyable. I truly think most romance readers will completely enjoy Together Always, especially if you don’t feel as vehemently as I. The romance between Lucas and Grace is lovely, and watching Samuel learn to trust again was a glorious thing.

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Uriel’s Fall by Loralie Hall – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Loralie will be awarding $10 Amazon Gift Card to a randomly drawn winner via the rafflecopter at the end of this post. Please click on the banner to see the other stops on this tour.

NOTE: This book is on sale for $0.99 through August 8, 2014.

Ronnie has the job any entry-level angel or demon would sell their soul for—she’s a retrieval analyst for the largest search engine in the world. Ubiquity is a joint initiative between heaven and hell. Because what better way to track all of humanity’s secrets, both good and bad, than direct access to their web browsing habits.

She might appreciate the position a little more if a) she could remember anything about her life before she started working at Ubiquity, b) the damn voice in her head would just shut up already, and c) her boss wasn’t a complete dickhead.

As she searches for solutions to the first two issues, and hopes the third will work itself out in performance reviews, she uncovers more petty backstabbing than an episode of Real Housewives, and a conspiracy as old as Lucifer’s descent from heaven. On top of all that, if she forgets the cover sheet on her TPS report one more time, she’s absolutely going on final written warning.

Now Ronnie’s struggling to keep her sanity and job, while stopping the voice in her head from stealing her life. She almost misses the boredom of data analysis at Ubiquity. Almost.

Enjoy an excerpt:

I straightened my clothes the best I could. Maybe I shouldn’t have fallen asleep in my clubbing outfit. Then again, I wasn’t sure I cared. I wasn’t exposing myself to the world, which was a good compromise for me. My breath caught in my throat when I yanked open the door. Nope, definitely not missionaries. But Michael looked incredible in a T-shirt and shorts.

Sorry, what? Too busy drooling.

Great. I thought she hated him.

Yeah, about that.

I wasn’t in the mood for her. My smile fell out on its own. “Hey.”

“Am I interrupting something?” He nodded at my outfit.

“Nah.…” The false bravado slipped away. It felt too cliché to say, “What, this old thing?” Besides, I kind of liked being honest with Michael. “I forgot to change before I fell asleep.”

“Did I wake you, then?”

“I also forgot to change when I woke up.” Too many more nights of missed sleep and I’d be forgetting a lot more. Maybe that was how I’d lost my memory. Had I done this before? Had the voice been there before I lost my memory?

You keep asking yourself circular questions. Let me take over for a while.

Nope. Not interested. Michael still stared at me, brow furrowed. I did a quick check of myself. Skirt wasn’t riding too high. Did I have mascara smeared across my face? “Is something wrong?”

He shook his head. “No. Just waiting to see whether you’re going to try and eviscerate me or just brush me off.”

Oh, that. He really did think I was insane. Or, considering the number of ways our encounters had started and ended, maybe he was just bored with something as basic as me in a mini skirt.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR:  Loralie Hall is a full time corporate geek and a fuller time writer. Her spouse is her muse and their cats are very much their children. When they’re not spending way too much time gaming, they’re making the world more good by vanquishing one fictional evil at a time.

Find Loralie Hall Online

Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/LoralieHall

Twitter: http://www.twitter.com/aszreal

Blog: http://blog.apathyshero.com

Website: http://urielsfall.com

Amazon.com: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00L3WESHU

Barnes and Noble: http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/uriels-fall-loralie-hall/1119720777?ean=2940046001648

iTunes: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/uriels-fall-ubiquity-book-1/id888043741?mt=11

Smashwords: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/446644?ref=LoralieHall

Kobo: http://store.kobobooks.com/en-US/ebook/uriel-s-fall-ubiquity-book-1

 

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Cheating Justice by Misty Evans and Adrienne Giordano – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a  blog tour for CHEATING JUSTICE by Misty Evans and Adrienne Giordano. The authors are giving away  a $25.00 Amazon Gift Card and a Justice Team Series Swag Bag–enter via the Rafflecopter below the post.

Misty and Adrienne are also hosting a week-long Facebook Party on the Justice Team Series page which will include several giveaways each day! Details will be announced on page as they are available.

 

 

7_25 book cover~ The second novel in the exciting and bestselling Justice Team romantic suspense series!! ~

 

While investigating a government cover-up, former FBI agent Mitch Monroe is framed for murder. A wanted man, Mitch has no choice but to stay off the grid, and he needs Special Agent Caroline Foster—the FBI’s top sniper and a woman who wants nothing to do with him—to clear his name.

 

After sharing a single night of simmering passion with Mitch a year ago, Caroline hasn’t been able to get him out of her head. Or her heart. He’s jeopardized her job once…helping him now could end her career. But a friend has been murdered, and no matter how Caroline feels about Mitch, he’s not the killer. She needs answers, and she needs Mitch Monroe out of her life once and for all.

 

On the run and with no one to turn to, Mitch and Caroline can’t fight the reigniting passion between them. She’ll lose her career if she proves Mitch is innocent…he’ll lose his life if she doesn’t.

 
Buy the book at Amazon, Barnes and Noble, or Kobo.

Enjoy an excerpt:

“I always said you had the best ass in the FBI.”

Her body froze. Eleven months, five days and—she did the math—twelve hours had passed since she’d heard that voice. The one she’d thought about time and again after his last brief visit to her apartment, and she still managed to be equal parts pissed off, concerned and flat-out heartbroken. That voice could only belong to one person. Thus the remark about her ass and—wow—she always knew he had a set of stones, but this was too much even for Mitch Monroe. The man she’d spent all these months trying to forget. Months of burying herself in cases, months of begging her boss for every available opportunity to keep her mind occupied, months of a busy life that didn’t allow for downtime.

Or thoughts of Mitch.

Without turning, she picked up her weapon. “Well, look what the cat dragged in. A girl puts her career on the line for you and you don’t call, you don’t write, nothing. To say the least, your technique needs work.”

And then he laughed. She’d waited months to hit him with that line and he laughed. Classic Mitch. She closed her eyes and—forget that he was a federal fugitive now wanted for murder—she’d kill him herself and be done with the whole affair.

Mitch, a murderer? She couldn’t believe it. No matter what the White House was spinning about Kemp Rodgers’ death, Mitch wouldn’t kill his friend.

Then, again, she’d been Mitch’s friend once…

Finally, she turned, bracing herself for whatever disguise might greet her, but found none. Brave.

As usual.

She took in his long brown hair pulled back in a low ponytail, his dark eyes and ripped jeans, and shook her head. “You’re insane for coming here.”

He shrugged. “It’s a private range. Not like I walked into Quantico.”

It wasn’t enough that he’d almost destroyed her career when he’d first started working The Lion case, now he wanted to have a second go at it. He was a fugitive wanted for murder and she was an FBI agent. She should arrest him.

Yet, she stood waiting for him to say something that would make a damned difference. I’m sorry? I didn’t do it? Anything that would erase the idea that he could have murdered his friend.

She set her rifle on the table behind her, slid the bolt open. Not loaded. She knew it wasn’t, but she checked anyway. Always.

Mitch shuffled behind her.

Too bad. He could wait like she’d waited for him all these months.

Her canvas carry case sat on the bench seat. Like many people, she preferred canvas over hard plastic because the softer material didn’t make the rifle sweat. She dug through the case for her lens covers, popped them on, set the rifle into the case—bolt upward—and zipped it.

She’d clean the rifle later. For her, keeping a weapon in top working order meant cleaning it after every use. Even if only one shot had been fired, her weapons got cleaned. Every time.

She sensed Mitch moving closer, stirring the air around her, upsetting the energy, letting her know he was near. He had that way about him. Sometimes good, sometimes not.

“I need your help.”

Of course he did. Should have known. Radio silence for eleven months and now he wanted her help. “I should shoot you and dump your body in the Reflecting Pool.”

“Yeah, you should.”

She spun and—crack!—smacked him, sending his head sideways and making her hand sting. She’d never physically attacked anyone before and she couldn’t say it felt right or just, but unleashing it felt good. To let him know he’d hurt her. “We were friends. I helped you and you disregarded me.”

Disregarded you?” Mitch slid a hand over his cheek. “I’ve stayed away and I’m sorry. But what, Caroline? You want to do lunch or hit the shooting range with me? A guy wanted for assaulting your boss and now a federal fugitive?” Gently, he knocked on her head. “Think about it. I was protecting you.”

She didn’t need his protection. “I’m mad at you.”

“Atta girl.”

God, he was annoying. “You had a good reason to take a swing at Donaldson when he threatened you during The Lion case, but honest to God, Mitch, I think he should have swung back and ended it right there instead of trying to throw you in jail. But you should have manned up and never run from the charges, so whatever this is, I can’t help you.”

“Tommy Nusco.”

“You murdered him, too?”

Surprisingly, he blanched. “I didn’t kill anyone. I need to know what went down with Tommy.”

Oh, please. He really had lost his mind if he thought she’d touch that subject. That involved ATF and the State of New Mexico and she wasn’t about to step into that snake pit. “You better worry about what went down with Kemp Rodgers and why the White House is after you. Turn yourself in, Mitch.”

“Kemp told me the White House is buzzing about Executive Privilege being invoked on Tommy’s case. A few hours later, he’s dead. Put two and two together, Caroline. There’s a cover-up in the works and what happened to Tommy is at the heart of it.”

She faced him, still hating that he stood a good six inches taller and managed to make her feel small. She folded her arms and stepped forward, got right into his space. “No.”

“Whatever they’re concocting about Tommy is bullshit.”

“I don’t know that.”

“Yeah, you do. When we all worked together, we hung out. You knew him.”

“Not that well.”

He rolled his eyes in that typical I’m-Mitch-Monroe-and-I’m-bored way of his. “He was not dirty. Whatever he was doing, the government is letting a dead agent take the heat. Why not? He’s dead anyway. Doesn’t matter that he was a decorated officer. The government obviouslyneeds to clean up a mess and—” he inched closer, tilted his head and stared right into her eyes “—I know all about how the government cleans up a mess.”

Back away. She should, but that would play into what he wanted. He wanted to control this conversation. His looming presence used to be enough that she’d give him that control.

Not this time.

She tilted her head the opposite direction, eased out a half-smile. “Mitch?”

“Yes?”

“Screw you.”

She turned her back to him and scooped up her rifle case. Right now, she needed to walk away and not let him talk her into something that would wreck her career.

About the Authors

 

Misty Evans:    7_25 Misty Evans PhotoUSA Today bestselling Author Misty Evans has published over twenty novels and writes romantic suspense, urban fantasy, and paranormal romance. As a writing coach, she helps other authors bring their books – and their dreams of being published – to life.

The books in her Super Agent series have won a CataNetwork Reviewers’ Choice Award, CAPA nominations, the New England Reader’s Choice Bean Pot Award for Best Romantic Suspense in 2010 and the ACRA Heart of Excellence Reader’s Choice Award for Best Romantic Suspense in 2011.

Her Witches Anonymous series was dubbed a Fallen Angel Reviews Recommended Read. The Super Agent Series, Witches Anonymous Series, and the Kali Sweet Series have been on multiple Amazon Kindle bestsellers lists. Her culinary romantic mystery, THE SECRET INGREDIENT, and the first book in her Deadly series, DEADLY PURSUIT, are both USA TODAY bestsellers.

Misty likes her coffee black, her conspiracy stories juicy, and her wicked characters dressed in couture. When not reading or writing, she enjoys music, movies, and hanging out with her husband, twin sons, and two spoiled puppies.

 

Connect with Misty: Website / Newsletter / Facebook / Twitter / Goodreads / Pinterest

 

***

 

Adrienne Giordano:  7_25 Adrienne Giordano HeadshotUSA Today bestselling author Adrienne Giordano writes romantic suspense and mystery.  She is a Jersey girl at heart, but now lives in the Midwest with her workaholic husband, sports obsessed son and Buddy the Wheaten Terrorist (Terrier). She is a co-founder of Romance University blog and Lady Jane’s Salon-Naperville, a reading series dedicated to romantic fiction.

 

Connect with Adrienne: Website / Newsletter / Facebook / Twitter / Goodreads / Street Team

 

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