Ribbon of Light by Claire Yezbak Fadden – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Claire Yezbak Fadden will be awarding a $15 Amazon or Barnes and Noble GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Julie Rafferty’s life-long dream is within her grasp. But just as the toy company she founded verges on becoming a multi-million-dollar enterprise, her husband abandons their marriage.

Trevor had no choice but to walk away from Julie. How else could he show his wife that the business was her priority, not him and their three children? His drastic stunt backfires though, jeopardizing the family business and seemingly pushes Julie into the arms of a younger man.

Just when Julie and Trevor find their way back to each other, a ruthless competitor escalates a bogus lawsuit. Together they plot to reclaim control of the toy company, only to uncover a shattering betrayal that puts them in unimaginable danger.

Can they overcome their dreadful mistake and reclaim the passion, trust and commitment that once drew them together? Or will the greed of an evil man irreparably destroy everything they hold dear?

Enjoy an excerpt

Julie gazed around the gymnasium, hoping for a sign of Trevor. During the timeouts, she spied Jason’s blue eyes scanning the stands, searching for his father, too. His broad shoulders and solid frame reminded her of a young Trevor. Her firstborn, a full head taller than most of his teammates, knocked hard on the door to manhood, seemingly overnight.

Trevor was staying away on purpose, she realized, her eyes misting over. His way of getting even because she was leaving on a business trip.

“Hey.” A familiar hand touched Julie’s shoulder, causing an electrifying charge to pulse through her body.

“I was wondering if you were going to show up,” she said with more bitterness than she meant.

She was relieved to see Trevor. She wanted to be near him, touch his face, hold hands like they used to. Instead, she made a snarky comment, driving another wedge between them. Seemed like inflicting hurt and pain became the goal of every conversation they shared recently. Somehow their loving, supportive relationship had turned spiteful and vindictive.

Julie couldn’t put her finger on when things changed, but she knew why. Trevor never understood her need to stand on her own two feet and take pride in something she created. He would never understand how her company gave her a sense of security he never could.

She moved her jacket to make room for him. Instead, he squeezed in between the girls. “Don’t start with me. I work too, you know. I got here as soon as I could.”

“Jason went on a scoring run. He has twelve points, eight from free throws.” Julie allowed her pride to slip out.

“Guess all that time you spent in the driveway teaching him how to draw a foul paid off.”

“Someone has got to be home with our kids,” Trevor said, his words dripping with judgment.

“Nicole, Emily. Go wash that sauce off your hands,” Julie ordered.

“I can just lick them clean,” Emily said.

Nicole stood. “Come on, Em. Let’s go. I think they’re going to fight again and Mom doesn’t want us to hear.”

“We’re not fighting,” Trevor said. “Just go wash your hands like your mother asked.”

She watched the girls head toward the bathrooms.

“They’re right, you know. All we do anymore is argue.”

“Not true. You’re not at home long enough. I can’t believe you have another week-long business trip.”

“I have a commitment to the company and the people who work there,” Julie said in hushed tones. “If you can’t or won’t accept that, then there is nothing I can do to make things better between us.”

About the Author:When she’s not playing with her granddaughters, Pennsylvania native Claire Yezbak Fadden is writing contemporary women’s fiction. Her books feature strong women who overcome life’s challenges, always putting their families first.

There’s a special spot in Claire’s heart for carousel horses – quite possibly the result of watching “Mary Poppins” 13 times as a young girl. She loves butterflies, ladybugs and confetti! Just ask anyone who’s received a birthday card from her.

The mother of three lives in Orange County, California with her husband, Nick and three spoiled dogs.

Claire’s work as an award-winning journalist, humor columnist and editor has appeared in more than 100 publications across the United States, Canada and Australia. Ribbon of Light is the third novel in her Begin Again series. 



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My Take On Critique Groups by David Allan Hamilton – Guest Blog and Giveaway


This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. One randomly chosen winner via rafflecopter will win a $50 Amazon/BN.com gift card. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

My Take On Critique Groups

So you’ve written a poem or a short story or a chunk of your novel and you’ve heard it’s important to get some feedback from experienced writers to make sure you’re on the right track. You find a meet up group of writers in your neighborhood getting together to critique each others’ work, so you gather your courage and head on down.

When you get there, you find there are twenty people in the room. The organizer says each person who wants to share has no more than 5 minutes, and any and all feedback must be given concisely in order to get everyone through.

When your turn comes, you begin reading your short story—a wonderful science fiction story about a mutant humanoid in a post-apocalyptic world. Within moments, you hear some people talking over there, someone else getting up and leaving to get a soda, someone else anxiously tapping their foot, and before you know it the organizer stops you because you’ve run out of time.

No one has much to say about your story, because they don’t know you, but there’s always that one guy who has advice for everyone, and he’s the one that comes down on you like a load of bricks, suggesting that the world doesn’t need another post-apocalyptic story featuring mutants and whatnot, and that your lead character is flat and your setting is boring.

Has this ever happened to you?

Unfortunately, it can be a common occurrence and the problem is that as writers, we rely on feedback as we go along. We need a group of other writers or readers to let us know whether the story makes sense or not, because we ourselves lose that objective view of things.

The question is: how do you find a group of writers that’s going to be encouraging, open, fair, kind, and helpful?

I have to admit, as an introvert, I’m not big on groups for anything. I prefer individual sports and activities for the most part, and don’t enjoy hanging out with a lot of rowdy extroverts. So perhaps I’m a bit biased when it comes to groups. That said, I also know how important it is to read your work as your writing, to get that instant feedback. I learned that lesson twenty years ago when I wrote my first novel. I had a target of 75,000 words for this novel, and I plotted it out, got myself a regular writing time, and put down 60,000 words or so. Then, I read the story back to myself and I realized my protagonist was a jerk. Oh boy. This would either require a major re-write or a major flush job. I ended up putting it away and it has not seen the light of day since!

That’s the kind of problem you could encounter if you do all your writing in complete isolation.

So, if we agree that our stories will be strengthened through a discussion with a writing group, where can you find one that will actually be helpful?

For starters, stay away from meet up groups. You don’t know these people and they don’t know you, so there’s absolutely no trust involved at all. Another group to stay away from is your friends and family (with some exceptions). They will generally love whatever you write, so you won’t get helpful feedback from that group either. But, you don’t need a lot of other people to get started. In fact, you don’t even need other writers. What you really need are active readers who understand plotting and character development. One or two of your friends or family may fall in to this group. If they do, and you want to share your story with them, be sure to tell them exactly what you’re looking for: what parts of the story work, which ones don’t, and are there any suggestions for making the story more effective?

The other thing I would do is join a writing workshop or course. You’ll often find like-minded writers there, and because you generally meet several times, you’ll come to know the others and figure out which ones you can trust. Approach them and see if they’d like to get together for a discussion of writing. Set the ground rules before hand, and you’ll enjoy a very helpful get together.

America has splintered into various independent republics after a brutal civil war. Against this backdrop, space exploration is on the cusp of new technological breakthroughs. Jim Atteberry, a mid-30s English professor at City College in San Francisco, spends his free time listening for alien signals on the amateur radio astronomy bands. His life as a single parent to his precocious daughter is turned upside-down when he hears an intelligent cry for help from the Ross 128 system and realizes we are not alone. This signal unleashes a chain of events pitting Jim and his brilliant, mysterious colleague Kate against a power-hungry scientist with his own secret agenda. Jim must learn the truth about the signal, the strange disappearance of his wife Janet, and the meaning of true love before it’s too late in this first contact thriller.

Enjoy an Excerpt

“How long does it take a subspace signal to travel from Ross 128 to Earth?” he asked.

The machine responded verbally. “Twenty-two minutes, 13.4 seconds with current subspace technology.”

Atteberry recorded the time on his notepad, then looked at the screen. “Is there any history of alien signals coming from Ross 128?”

“Negative. Although in 2017, unknown signals from that system were received at the University of Puerto Rico at Arecibo. They were later dismissed as Terran satellites.”

Ghost signals. That happened sometimes due to the multitude of satellites orbiting Earth back then, and now around the moon and Mars. Signals would bounce and echo off them all the time, like ripples in a pond bouncing off rocks and plants.

“Speculate as to the origin of this signal if it’s a ghost.”

“Ready.”

“Proceed.”

“If the signal is a ghost, it is most likely an artifact of the Second American Civil War circa 2070. The Northern Democratic States and the Confederate States often used ghost signals as decoys to confuse enemy communications.”

So that’s it, Atteberry thought, he’s been chasing old civil war ghosts. Yet the question of subspace remained, and, as far as he knew, neither side in the civil war used the emerging FTL technology. It wasn’t sufficiently developed until after the new republics separated.

“What is the likelihood that these Ross 128 signals are satellite ghosts?”

“0.02 percent.”

“What’s the probability the true source is the Ross 128 system itself?”

“74.8 percent.”

Atteberry leaned forward on his workbench and realized the results were inconclusive. “What’s the probability that these signals are naturally occurring… a pulsar or a quasar for example?”

“Zero percent. The signals are artificially produced with slight variations in pattern frequency, suggesting unknown transmission methodology.”

“Human?”

“Improbable. There are no known humans in the Ross 128 space.”

Atteberry feared asking the next question; he swallowed hard. “Alien?”

“99.8 percent probable.”

About the Author:David Allan Hamilton is a teacher, writer, and multipotentialite. He is a graduate of Laurentian University (BSc. Applied Physics) and The University of Western Ontario (MSc. Geophysics). He lives in Ottawa where he facilitates writing workshops and teaches. When not writing, David enjoys riding his bike long distances, painting, and knitting.

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The Storm in Our Chests by Enrique Betancourt – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Enrique Betancourt will be awarding a $10 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

After being separated abruptly, best friends Benj and Élan reunite after five years. They are not children anymore, and teenage and experience changed them.

Benj used to be an isolated antisocial child, now he’s popular and outgoing, leaving for college in the following year.

Élan used to be chipper, now he’s sad and insecure after years of being tossed around the foster system and realizing he is gay, crushing on a boy he thinks is unattainable.

Their reunion proves to be a challenge as they are the polar opposites of how they knew each other, the journey to healing and proves to be tough. Bonding again may be the only thing that saves them. Through small moments and swift dramatic turns, Benj and Élan will have to prove they are more than friends – they are buddies, and the epitome of unconditional love.

Enjoy an Excerpt:

BENJ

“Please! Don’t take my best friend away!”

I remember. Vividly.

It was a scream that tore my vocal cords to shreds as I ran as fast as I could, as far as my young thirteen year old legs could take me. I remember. Sometimes I still dream about it, most times it’s just a repressed memory, sometimes it’s burning in my mind so badly that I have to wake up or else I’d drown in my sleep. I know that I wouldn’t actually drown, but it feels like I would. Can someone actually drown in their sleep? I don’t want to test that theory. Sometimes I’m afraid my mind would decide that it’s had enough and return to that day, that moment. It’s hard to explain, but it’s an intense feeling of helplessness. Of uselessness.

“Please! Please! Don’t take my best friend away!”

I hear a beating, the drumming of my heart that threatened to break my ribcage, as I hear myself with a younger prepubescent voice scream against the cold air, watching as they drive away. I try to run faster. I try to save him. I try to be Superman. But I’m not. I can’t reach the car, I can’t reach it as it enters the highway and I see him for the last time. His eyes, tear-filled eyes, against the back window of the car, looking at me. Waiting for me to save him. But I can’t save him.

I’m not Superman. He was.

He was my Superman.

About the Author:

I am the published writer of a novel called THE IMAGINARIUM OF THE INNOCENT by Austin Macauley Publishers, and also I have been awarded the Rosa Maria Porrúa Award for my Spanish-language novella SOBRE LAS CENIZAS. My books stand out for their literacy excellence that got me an award, and the dramatic and emotional way I handle my characters. I am Mexican who lived 6 years in the United States, I love to read, to write and music is such a powerful inspiring force for me.

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Some Men’s Dreams by Eileen Dreyer – Spotlight and Giveaway

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SHE HAS NO TIME FOR LOVE

Dr. Gen Kendall has paid too high a price to let anything get in the way of her dream. In one month she’ll be a full-fledged doctor. She just has to impress her chief of staff, Dr. Jack O’Neill. She impresses him, all right. With one swing of a softball bat she puts him in his own hospital and changes both of their lives forever.

HE HAS NO TASTE FOR LOVE

A widower with a 12-year-old daughter, Jack hopes this move to Chicago will signal a new life for them both. He doesn’t plan on finding himself literally at the feet of one of the most compelling women he’s ever known. He certainly doesn’t expect her to turn his life upside down when she recognizes something in his daughter that could well break his heart. Is love enough to see them through, especially when it means that not just Jack but Gen must face the ghosts of their pasts to save his little girl?

Enjoy an Excerpt

Dr. Genevieve Kendall met the new chief of pediatric critical care at the house staff softball game. More to the point, she knocked him out.

Literally.

Dr. John Parker O’Neill, the handsome new wunderkind of medicine, who until very recently had made his name in Boston by effecting near-miraculous saves of desperately ill children, had this day decided to introduce himself to Chicago’s Memorial Medical Center by pitching for the attending-physicians’ team that always challenged the residents on the field of battle the Saturday after Memorial Day.

He had so far pitched as near-perfect a game as anybody would have expected him to. By the time Gen showed up late, because of a surprise admission she’d had to finish, he’d helped the attendings trounce the hapless residents by a score of fifteen to one. The residents promptly sent Gen in to pinch hit for their own sadly overmatched pitcher.

For Dr. O’Neill’s part, he looked unwrinkled and unflustered, standing out on the pitcher’s mound in perfectly pressed khaki shorts and a peach Izod shirt, his hawk-like features tanned and smiling, his gray-fingered black hair tousled just slightly in the humid breeze of an early Chicago summer afternoon.

Gen, on the other hand, looked as if she’d just pulled a thirty-six-hour shift, which, in fact, she had. Stretching the kinks from a sleep-deprived body still encased in wrinkled, Snoopy-decorated scrubs, she tossed her thick chestnut braid over her shoulder and choked up on the softball bat.

“Come on, weenie pitcher!” she taunted, much to everyone’s surprise. “See if you can reach the plate!”

Dr. O’Neill’s smile, a thing of controlled beauty, widened a notch. He tossed the thick, scuffed ball a couple of times into his oiled and gleaming glove and eyed his prey as if she were an amusing child.

His first pitch was wide. Gen waited until the ball safely thunked into the glove behind her to give her bat a few more practice swings.

“Big-time doctor can’t even find the strike zone,” she taunted, which drew howls of outrage from the infielders and another enigmatic smile from her foe.

His next pitch was as sweet a strike as is allowed in slow-pitch softball. Gen watched it arc into the afternoon sun and smiled with delight. She was winding up even before the ball reached its apex. Feet planted, left shoulder slightly forward, her whole body tensed for contact. The ball dropped toward her, and she slammed into it as if it were the head of the last surgeon who had called her an idiot.

The crack of a solid hit could be heard into the next diamond. The ball shot straight back the way it had come. Gen never even got the chance to drop her bat or turn toward first base. She recognized imminent disaster before anyone else.

Even Dr. O’Neill.

“Oh, shit,” was all Gen got to say before the ball, with unerring accuracy, slammed into Dr. O’Neill’s forehead and dropped him like a rock.

About the Author:

New York Times bestselling, RWA Hall of Fame author Eileen Dreyer has published 31 romance novels in most genres, 8 medical­forensic suspenses, and 10 short stories.

2018 sees Eileen enjoying critical acclaim for her foray into historical romance, the Drake’s Rakes series, which Eileen labels as Regency Romantic Adventure that follows a group of Regency aristocrats who are willing to sacrifice everything to keep their country safe. She is also working on her first non­fiction book, TRAVELS WITH DAVE, about a journey she’s been taking with a friend’s ashes.

A retired trauma nurse, Eileen lives in her native St. Louis with her husband, children, and large and noisy Irish family, of which she is the reluctant matriarch. She has animals but refuses to subject them to the limelight.

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It’s All About Me – Carrie Jo Howe’s Photo Journey – Guest Blog and Giveaway


This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Carrie Jo Howe will be awarding a $10 Amazon/BN GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

It’s All About Me – Carrie Jo Howe’s Photo Journey
1. I’ve written 2 books.

2. I lived in Chicago, Illinois for 20 years.

3. I have 3 sons.

4. I currently live in Key West, Florida with my husband and dog.

5. I learned that:
Key West is scattered bits of land surrounded by water

In Key West, you can adopt a rooster wearing a diaper (the rooster wears the diaper – not you. Well actually it’s Key West – you can wear a diaper too if you want).

And it’s one human family.


This human chose NOT to wear the diaper.

6. Paddle board yoga is actually fun (after the thousandth time of falling in). It’s very gushy at the bottom of the mangroves.

7. I’m friends with Hemingway – who is a little grabby.

8. I went to Fantasy Fest! (I’m the photographer not the model.)

9. I have a blog about crime in the Keys because I love the criminals here.

And I love the fish crimes here. Here is a picture of the infamous Turtle Bandit.

10. I’m afraid of ghosts. AND, there are billions of ghosts in Key West. I’ve always had the creeps and Robert the Doll is one of the scariest “Chuckies” out there. He’s in the East Martello Tower. He’ll cast a curse on you if you don’t ask permission to take his picture (skin crawling as I write this).

My front porch is painted Haint Blue – so I’m safe. I hope.

Peg Savage has contractually agreed to move to Key West, Florida. The smudged signatures on the damp cocktail napkin are irrefutable proof.

“An adventure…” her husband Clark says.

Peg can’t swim; she’s afraid of bridges (there are 42 of them); and she doesn’t want to leave her friends. However, after a bottle of Cabernet, a move from Chicago to the southernmost city in the United States seems like the best decision ever.

But now Clark has taken a long term job in Cuba and she’s on her own.

Neither her dog Nipper, nor the ghosts in the attic, offer up any good advice. But how hard can it be living in paradise?

Peg dives into island life but the more effort she makes, the wider her wake of catastrophes. She is tortured by a paddle board, a giant poisonous toad, the local Conservation group, and the patron saint of hurricanes. Not to mention the persistent sweat rash under her left breast.

A tropical depression descends on the island – one that can’t be cured with medication. Peg must gather her strength if she has any hope of surviving the storm.

Enjoy an Excerpt:

The next day, when Clark greeted Peg in the kitchen, his face lit up with hungover happiness. Peg held up the still-damp paper towel contract – black ink sticking to her index finger and thumb.

“Yes, here’s the proof.” She dropped the drunken pact into the desk drawer on top of the crusty remains of past contracts that refused to lie flat. She could just make out the blotchy inked words company, job and dog on the corners of the stacked agreements.

“It’ll be fun, an adventure.” Clark kissed her lips, his breath a mixture of mouthwash and sour bar towel. “I’ll make the arrangements. We can get away at the end of the week.”

Peg wished that he would stop saying the word adventure.

About the Author: After raising three boys in the suburbs of Chicago, Carrie Jo Howe now lives in Key West, Florida with her husband and her dog. Her latest novel, Island Life Sentence, is a fictional account of an American Midwestern woman who feels like an alien in the “one human family” of Key West. Carrie Jo’s first book, Motherhood is NOT for Babies, received a rave review (thanks Mom), and works wonderfully as a form of contraception. Her blog Florida Keys Crime Report, tells of all the goings on in the Keys, where bank robbers get away on bicycles, and perps caught with undersized, pinched, out-of-season lobsters get more jail time than drug runners. She is currently working on the sequels to Island Life Sentence.

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Mistletoe in Mayhem by L.E. Rico – Spotlight and Giveaway

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A Christmas Wedding In Mayhem

You’re cordially invited to the wedding of the century! Please join bride-trying-not-to-be-a-zilla Hennessy O’Halloran and her prince-in-shining-snow-boots as they finally say, “I do.” Unless a rogue wedding planner and a blizzard that takes out the entire Midwest can stop them, these two will get married on Christmas. The town of Mayhem will make sure of it.

A Surprise Baby In Mayhem

The town of Mayhem, Minnesota, is about to have a population explosion…and the Whiskey Sisters are getting more than they expected! While newlyweds Henny and Bryan are anxiously awaiting not one but two little bundles of joy, Jameson and Scott are focusing on planning their own perfect wedding, with only one troublesome toddler in tow. But babies have a way of arriving on their own schedules…and fate has a way of intervening in this quirky hamlet. Now, the couple finds themselves scrambling to beat the clock—and the odds—to their own happily ever after before their unexpected special delivery arrives.

Travel to the quirky town of Mayhem, Minnesota, with these two companion novellas that prove love, and sisterhood, will always save the day.

Enjoy an Excerpt

From Novella 1: Christmas Chaos

I pull her into my arms, reveling in the feel of her soft curves pressed against my chest, and rest my chin atop her blonde head. She buries her face into my sweatshirt.

“Hennessy, honey, you need to stop worrying about all the little details. We’ve come this far and, with the help of a whole lotta people, we’re going to have a beautiful wedding. With or without heat. With or without light. As long as you’re there with me, up at the altar, then nothing else matters,” I murmur into her hair.

She looks up at me with pale blue eyes, brows arched in concern.

“Bryan, I don’t consider heat and light ‘little details.’ And the roads—they’re like ice! How will anyone get here safely? How will we get here safely?”

I sigh and brush the hair back off her forehead.

“Do you have any idea how much I love you?” I ask. “And that’s not a rhetorical question.”

“I think I have some idea,” she replies, the corners of her mouth quirking up a little.

I shake my head.

“No, I don’t think you do. I wanted this wedding to happen fast because I couldn’t wait another day to be married to you. Don’t you see? It doesn’t matter—none of it matters. In the end, it’s just you and me taking a vow before God. It’s not the wedding, Hennessy. It’s the marriage.”

Her eyes study mine for a long moment before she puts a soft hand to my cheek.

“I’ll try to stay calm,” she assures me. “And I do know how much you love me…because that’s how much I love you, too.”

I lean down, my lips finding hers. It’s a beautiful, candlelit moment. Until it’s not.

“Noooooooooo, Mama! Miiiiiiiiiiine!”

Our kiss transforms into a double-sided snort of laughter. We pull away from one another, chuckling. When she opens her mouth to say something, I hold up my index finger to stop her.

“And before you worry about Jax being too young, or too unpredictable, he’s a little detail, too. An incredibly loud, incredibly destructive detail…but a little one, nonetheless.”

“Yeah, well, maybe we should reconsider letting him be the ring bearer,” she says.

“Why? You don’t think he can handle it?”

“Uh, well, you know the plastic bottle cap ring we’re using for practice?”

“Yeah…” I nod, wondering where she’s going with this.

“He just swallowed it.”

About the Author:

L.E. Rico didn’t set out to be an author. In fact, she’s made a name for herself as a classical music radio host—doing her best to make the music and the composers relevant by putting them into a modern context. It was just a few years ago that she discovered a passion for writing that blossomed into an entire novel. And then another. And another. And, while she still spends plenty of time on the radio, telling the stories of the great composers, she spends even more time composing her own great stories.

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Resisting the Rock Star by Megan Slayer – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Megan Slayer will be awarding a prize pack featuring a necklace made by the author and signed swag to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

What the rock god wants, he gets—including her.

Mason ‘Kross’ Khan left the rock and roll stage to connect with the son he never knew existed. He’s used to electrifying crowds and romancing the ladies. Money’s never been an object. He’s not looking for a relationship, but when he meets the saucy brunette at a club, he’s smitten. Danya’s perfect—curvy, smart and has no idea he’s a giant in the music industry. The one-night stand is just what he needs and he’s convinced he’ll never see Danya again—until he attends conference night at the local high school.

Danya Littrell isn’t just his one-night stand. She’s also his son’s art teacher and the woman who sparks his muse. Can he balance parenthood, a relationship with Danya and his music career? Or will his secrets be too much for the relationship to withstand?

Enjoy an Excerpt:

©2018 Megan Slayer, All Rights Reserved

“What if this guy could love you? What if he’s not like Harry? You passed him by.” Kelly turned Danya around. “You had the balls to speak to him and have a dance. Harness those balls and give this guy a shot.”

“Mason,” she mumbled. His name sounded good on her lips. He looked like a Mason. He also struck her as exotic but approachable.

“Who?”

“His name is Mason.” She’d spoken to him when she’d thought she had no chance. Before she could cross the room, he and Michelle joined her and Kelly.

Michelle grinned. She leaned into him and tipped her chin. Danya suppressed a groan. The woman didn’t have to be so smug. She’d been friends with Michelle since the third grade, and Michelle never ceased to remind Danya she was the top dog. Danya was the designated unpretty friend.

“Ladies, this is Mason,” Michelle said. “He’s new-ish in town.”

Kelly rested her hands on her hips. “Michelle, aren’t you supposed to be meeting Craig here tonight?”

“We split,” Michelle snapped. “I want to introduce you to Mason.” She turned to him. “You’ve met Danya, and this is Kelly. She’s married.”

“Or she just enjoys sporting big-ass diamonds to ward off approaching men,” Danya muttered.

Kelly snorted. “Justin will love that when I tell him. He spent two grand on a diamond that’s just there to ward off men. Nice.” She stuck out her right hand to Mason. “It’s nice to meet you.” She turned back to Michelle. “Craig texted me and said he’s on his way.”

“Kelly.” Michelle glared at her. “A word?”

Danya stifled a chuckle. Kelly always knew when to stand up to bullies. While Kelly and Michelle went outside to discuss Kelly’s comments, Mason remained with Danya.

“She’s pissed,” Mason said.

“That’s nothing. You’ve never seen her when she’s truly upset. Hell hath no fury like a Michelle annoyed.” Danya shrugged. “She thinks all men are at her disposal.”

“Then it’s a good thing she’s got a boyfriend—I think. I kind of feel bad for him.” Mason bumped shoulders with her. “Makes asking you out a lot easier, though. I meant what I said, and I liked our dance. Want to dance again?” He didn’t give her a chance to argue. He tugged her to the dance floor a second time. “Nice dodge, though.” He half-grinned. “I’d think you were trying to palm me off.”

“No.” Oh God. Ignoring her hadn’t been his intention. “I not good at palming anyone off or having much courage, but if I were at my job, I’d be able to say what I needed to say without a problem. When I’m in the wild, I’m horrible.”

About the Author:

Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary and paranormal to LGBTQ and BDSM themes. No matter what the length, her works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s been the runner up in the Kink Category at Love Romances Café as well as nominated at the LRC for best author, best contemporary, best ménage and best anthology. Her books have made it to the bestseller lists on Amazon.com.

When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but football is her sport of choice.

Website | Newsletter | Blog | a href=”https://www.facebook.com/wendizwaduk.meganslayer”>Facebook | Amazon Author Page | BookBub | Instagram | Goodreads | Twitter

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

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Soft Clay by Megan Slayer – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Megan Slayer will be awarding a Prize Pack featuring a Necklace made by the author and signed swag to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the toher stops on the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

Two souls trapped—can they find freedom in each other’s arms?

Nike, the goddess of speed can’t move. She’s the goddess of strength and she can’t shatter her curse. The goddess of victory has lost her weapons—her shield and spear. She put her faith in a human, only to be cursed. Can another human be the key to her salvation and freedom from the clay?

Charlie needs someone who can understand him. A person to cherish him. Male or female, he doesn’t care. He’s intrigued by Nike’s statue. Call him infatuated. But she’s a statue and they don’t come to life from true love’s kiss, do they?

Enjoy an Excerpt

©Megan Slayer, 2018, All Rights Reserved

“Try it.” Zelus nodded. “It’s not hard stuff. Just wine from Olympus.”

Oh Jesus. He’d heard this line of bullshit before. His friends wanted to sell their story about Olympus, but he wasn’t buying. He refused to drink. “If I down that, I might believe you and there’s no way that’s happening.”

Kay shrugged. “It’ll make you feel better.”

“To know you’re lying or to get drunk?” Charlie asked. “Olympus, Gods, statues … it’s not right to dick with people.”

Bia took a swig. “I get it.” She stayed beside him. “You think things are one way, then they go sideways. We keep trying to convince you to believe us, but we don’t show you what’s real.” She rested her head on his shoulder. “You’re right to be concerned.”

“Yeah.” He didn’t understand, but she seemed to care. He took the flask. Maybe drinking would help. He’d forget his problems for a while. Sure, the issues would still be there, but he’d have a respite. He tipped his head back and the sweet liquid slid down his throat. The drink reminded him of apples, but with spice. Not cider, though. His mouth chilled, but the liquid warmed his soul. His head swam. “I should stop.” He downed another swig. “Really.” But he wanted more.

“Then stop.” Kay took the flask. “Feel better?”

“Not really.” He leaned back against the foot of the statue. If he wasn’t mistaken, her foot felt warm. Real. Not possible. This had to be a figment of his imagination or a result of the drink. His mind was playing tricks on him. But why was he so horny all the sudden? Booze never made him want to hump everything in sight.

“Let’s get you home.” Zelus offered his arm. “Come on.”

“No.” He shook his head and blinked. “Did you drug me?”

“It’s the nectar of the gods.” Camden laughed. “Not drugs. Good, though, isn’t it?”

“It’s wine.” Andy helped Zelus hoist Charlie to his feet. “The wine amplifies your heart’s desire. You’re not drunk, I promise.”

He allowed them to help him to stand, but he shook his head. Life seemed to slow down. He blinked again. The horniness increased. He wriggled free from the guys. Neither could help him with his suddenly overactive libido. All six individuals were taken and none of them turned him on. “I don’t get it. There’s something wrong with me. I can’t find anyone to love me.” Why was he telling them this? He whooped, then faced the statue. “I bet I can’t even turn this statue on.” He hopped onto the base of the sculpture, standing nose to nose with the woman. “See?” He kissed her. “Think you can love me, baby? I’ll fuck you senseless, but I want to wear your clothes and have you fuck me, too. Isn’t that messed up?” He kissed the statue again. “See?” He glanced back at his friends. “She isn’t interested. No one is.” Oh well. Love, even with a statue wasn’t in his future. Such was life…

About the Author:

Megan Slayer, aka Wendi Zwaduk, is a multi-published, award-winning author of more than one-hundred short stories and novels. She’s been writing since 2008 and published since 2009. Her stories range from the contemporary and paranormal to LGBTQ and BDSM themes. No matter what the length, her works are always hot, but with a lot of heart. She enjoys giving her characters a second chance at love, no matter what the form. She’s been the runner up in the Kink Category at Love Romances Café as well as nominated at the LRC for best author, best contemporary, best ménage and best anthology. Her books have made it to the bestseller lists on Amazon.com.

When she’s not writing, Megan spends time with her husband and son as well as three dogs and three cats. She enjoys art, music and racing, but football is her sport of choice.

Newsletter | Website | Blog | Facebook | Amazon Author Page | BookBub | Instagram | Goodreads | Twitter

a Rafflecopter giveaway
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The Nefarious Series by Lucille Moncrief – Exclusive Excerpt and Giveaway


This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Lucille Moncrief will be awarding a (US ONLY) signed paperback copy of Book 4.5 and a poster of the series (The series is illustrated) to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banner to see the other stops on the tour.

A captured mermaid, two vampire hives on the brink of war, and a bored, sadistic king weave a tale of forbidden love in this spin-off from Moncrief’s Nefarious series.

Follow Hannibal Steele, chief alchemist of the Scion Hive, as he races against the clock to produce the coveted Bone Elixir. Will he finish the elixir in time before the Great King Abaddon murders Hannibal’s love, Emmeline, princess of the rival Minoa Hive?

Find out in this thrilling, fast-paced tale set in a steampunk world, where the sea rises in anger at the capture of her princess, wolves howl within the hoary swirls of a white potion, and mermaids join forces with a lonely alchemist in the foggy Georgia night.

~~~~~

Nefarious Volume One

Penny Dreadful meets Fifty Shades

Book 1 of 6 of Lucille Moncrief’s the Nefarious Series

Talcott Henderson, dead for over one hundred years old, wants to live again. Enslaved and abused, he longs to destroy his maker and return to the world of the living. But first, he must replace himself with someone else. Armed with only a silver tongue and a fuzzy sense of right and wrong, he sets his sights on Elyse Delafayette, a lonely melancholic. But Samuel Quartermaine, a vampire hunter with a dark past of his own, bears a grudge against Talcott’s maker, and stalks Talcott from the shadows of the cemetery walls.

Will Talcott succeed in convincing Elyse to join the ranks of the undead before Samuel can stop him?

Fans of Dracula, steampunk, and gaslight fantasy will love this collection of dark and lurid tales. If you’re tired of sparkly vampires and sickly-sweet romances, sink your fangs into the Nefarious Series and get a bigger bite out of the vampire world.


~~~~~

Nefarious Volume Two: Honor the Suffering

While the bombs rain overhead, Talcott Henderson and a group of fellow soldiers huddle in the cratered ground beneath the German front lines. Through the never-ending din of enemy fire, the voracious, blood-soaked machine of war haunts Talcott. Memories claw at him; kill or be killed, eat or be eaten. In the bowels of the earth a specter appears and offers him an eternal life free of guilt.

But what is the cost of an unmarred soul?

If you like dark and gritty tales, war stories and the supernatural, you’ll love this installment of the authoress Moncrief’s Nefarious series. Grab your copy today, travel through time, and escape into a breathtaking new world!

~~~~~

Nefarious Volume Three: The World is Our Exile

Can evil consume innocence?

Can the one who walks the line between both save it?

Elyse Delafayette, innocent yet darkly cynical, continues a naive flirtation with evil incarnate. Although goodness pursues her, she rebukes him. Although he seems sincere, she fears he is not.

Samuel Quartermaine, embodying darkness and light, races against time to save her from the clutches of the undead.

Will she let him love her?

If you are sick of sparkly vampires and love sarcastic heroines, brooding, secretive heroes, and exploring the stark contrast between good and evil, you will love this story. Get your copy now to experience a sensual, thrilling ride into vivid new world!

~~~~~

Nefarious Volume Four: The Dirigible Airship Disaster

Penny Dreadful meets Fifty Shades

Described as “captivating,” and “hauntingly beautiful,” the Nefarious series is a sophisticated, enthralling, and well-written tale of intrigue and devious desires. Set in a lurid, southern gothic world, follow the undead Talcott Henderson as he engages in a battle of wits with his intended, Elyse Delafayette.

But wait, what’s this? Half-ling dhamphyrs armed with hawthorn stakes, an energy-witch coven torn apart by infighting, and a corpse-like, ancient vampire king with an agenda of his own?

Enhanced with custom illustrations, this fast-paced steampunk series will leave you on the edge of your seat and hungry for more. If you are sick and tired of wimpy vampires and the flood of terrible books on the romance market, grab your copy today of the Nefarious series and relearn what a true escape into fiction is all about.

~~~~~

Nefarious Volume 4.5: The Heads That Rolled

Fans of Trueblood and all things dark and steampunk will fall in love with Lucille Moncrief’s Nefarious Series.

In the fifth installment of this newest generation of vampire lore, go back in time to the savage heights of the French Revolution. Heads will roll as the story follows the series’ anti-hero, Samuel Quartermaine, as he falls victim to the family curse and his father’s betrayal.

Book 4.5 is a wild ride that will keep you on the edge of your seat and reading long into the night . . . With the lights on, of course.

Enjoy an Excerpt from Nefarious 3

I picked up the chamberstick and paused in the halcyon room. The grin in the peeled paint of the flagstones seemed an assurance of victory, and now the grin was my own. Smiling wide, I went upstairs. The soft click of the cellar door latch echoed in the still house, which was quickly darkening inside from the setting sun. Patches of faded evening light filtered through the leaden windows and crisscrossed the hallway. My insides buzzed with gleeful mischief. I rounded the corner in the foyer to go upstairs, only to find Lucius seated on the bottom step. The sight of him was like a bucket of ice water had been dumped on my back. I quickly hid my smile and gripped the handle of the chamberstick. His pale, yellow-blue eyes burned with joy and his hair framed his face in what I used to think resembled a halo. Now I saw it for what it really was—a wispy, dirty aura of ill-will. His clothes were rumpled. His once white shirt was torn and stained brown, and his face glowed with the kind of mirth only given to victors.

“My prodigal son!” His tone was cheerful and incongruously warm. He stood and licked his lips, snuffed out my candle and pulled me into a tight embrace.

An acrid pool of bitterness lapped at my insides from his touch. My back teeth began to grind. He patted my shoulder and licked my ear. I stifled a gag and pulled away from his grasp. That same oily, rotten, muddy smell I’d found in his room seemed to leech from his pores. My eyes burned as I caught a whiff of it, and my nose crinkled in abject disgust at his condition.

“Such a stone-cold heart.” He smirked. “Although you’ve broken mine, I still love what special kind of monster I made you.” He put his hands on my shoulders, held me in place and stared into my eyes.

I tried fighting Lucius once, over one hundred years ago. The failed attempt put me underground for several months, too weak to hunt anything but the rats in the crypt. My ribs still bear the scars of his paternal rage. They throbbed at the memory. The thought of him nearly destroying me again struck fear into my bones. I tried to keep my voice emotionless and steady.

“What do you want, Father?” I asked.

“Thanks to your espionage, I’ve effectively neutered The Quartermaine.” He dropped his hands and straightened out his shirtsleeves. They were caked with mud. Strands of what appeared to be cat fur peppered the front ruffles of his shirt.

He seemed to take no notice of me, far too drunk on his speciously assured victory.

I pushed passed him and started up the stairs. “That’s wonderful, Father.” I said over my shoulder and tried not to glare at him or worse—divorce his head from his neck with my bare hands. I willed myself to stop grinding my teeth. If my actions in any way clued him in to my deception, he’d put me underground for decades.

“Oh, Talcott?”

The blue blood in my veins stopped cold.

“As a reward for your, I don’t know, what is this? Change of heart? It doesn’t matter.” His hands fluttered and his brow knitted. He pursed his lips before a fanged smile took over his face again. “I give you Trina.”

I stopped on the steps and quickly turned away from him. My eyes burned red and a tear of joy threatened to fall. Now I could do with her as I wished without catching the ire of the Scion Hive! I bit my tongue to keep from smiling and turned around.

“Father, I thank you for your beneficence.” I bowed. The piece of black coal beneath my ribs nearly burst with happiness.

Lucius laughed, shook his head and put his hand to his chest. “Your formality is so endearing.” He pulled a small, weathered, coffin-shaped box from his pants pocket and smirked.

My eyes widened. “You . . . you didn’t eat it?” I asked, lunging for the box.

Whoever devoured the heart of a freshly turned vampire gained their strength and held sway over their free will, rendering them the property of the consumer. My nerves electrified and pulsed at the prospect of gorging on Trina’s desiccated heart.

Lucius pulled the box just out of my reach and the contents made a sickening thud inside. I started to salivate like a mangy dog begging for table scraps.

“Say you’re sorry, and I’ll let you eat it,” Lucius said, his face hard and unflinching.

My hand clenched around the chamberstick. I went back down the steps and knelt before him. Humiliation burned and lashed at my jowls.

“I ate yours that night in the trenches whilst you slumbered, meek and young as a kitten.” He put his cold hand over the crown of my head. “Your soul tasted like,” he smacked his lips, “mhm, crisp leaves in the fall, and just a hint of an all-consuming love.”

The sound of his claws ripping soft flesh and Ilse’s curdled scream boomed within my memory. A tear fell from my eye and hit the floor. I stared at it through a watery lens as he continued unabated.

“I only ever tasted it again when I met your Ilse.”

I grit my teeth in rage. My back molar cracked as I started to stand. His hand gripped my head, and he pushed me down and held me in position. White-hot pain flared throughout my jaw and a dull ache assaulted my knees. My hands shook and the sharp edges of the chamberstick handle cut into my palm. I tasted ashen blood on my tongue as I bit into it and groaned.

“I’m still forever grateful to you for leading me to her. Your turning, finished off with her death?” He chuckled. “The most delectable, two-course meal I’ve ever had. I haven’t had anything so fresh and natural since before the industrial revolution. Everyone’s so polluted now.” His talons crushed my temples and a scream caught in my throat.

Murderous lust ignited within my veins.

About the Author:

Lucille Moncrief, authoress of the steampunk and gaslight vampire series, Nefarious, was clearly a stodgy old librarian in a past life. She loves poring over history books and binge-watching PBS’s Secrets Of series.

Join her mailing list by downloading the free book, Hannibal Steele and the Bone Elixir.

When Ms. Moncrief is not yelling at the kids to get off her lawn, you can find her staring out her window pretending to be pensive. She’s usually in a good mood and readily accepts follows and friend requests to her Facebook page.

To contact the authoress Moncrief and for more information on upcoming and past releases, please visit her website.

Website | Amazon Author Page | Goodreads | Facebook | Facebook Group | Instagram | Twitter

Book 1 and Book 4.5 are both on sale for $0.99. Books 1 – 3 are also available as a book set. The books are also available through KU with the exception of the prequel, Hannibel Steele and the Bone Elixer, available for free through BookFunnel.

Book 1
Book 2
Book 3
Book 4
Book 4.5

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His Tempting Love by Anya Summers – Spotlight and Giveaway

This post is part of a virtual book tour organized by Goddess Fish Promotions. Anya Summers will be awarding a $15 Amazon or B/N GC to a randomly drawn winner via rafflecopter during the tour. Click on the tour banners to see the other stops on the tour.

Cora Roberts has a plan: move to a new town and make a better life for herself and her son. As a single mom, she’s not looking for a relationship of any kind. But then she never expected to have the sexy Garrett offer her a night of uninhibited pleasure with no strings attached.

Garrett Brooks never expected Cora’s surrender to his touch to be so sweet – or tempt him to want more than just a single night with her. But as he pursues a deeper relationship with Cora, a threat from his past emerges.

Will Garrett be able to tempt Cora with his love, or will outside forces tear them apart?

Enjoy an Excerpt

The Cuff & Spurs Night Club was just your everyday, average, ordinary club—with kinky hot sex tossed in.

The members’ only club was decorated with a cowboy motif, pretty much like almost every other establishment in Jackson Hole. Not that Cora Roberts was complaining; she found the flair for Western-themed décor was part of this town’s charm.

Cuffs & Spurs was the only business she was aware of in town that was located and operated below ground. Then again, it was a private establishment and the general population was not permitted to enter. For all she knew the stores along the main drive could all have secret basements with operating businesses in them.

Up the stairs on the first floor was the Teton Cowboy Bar & Grill. The popular restaurant for tourists and locals alike helped to finance this nightclub. Both places were owned by Spencer Collins, her cousin on her mother’s side and the reason she had lucked into this job.

Spencer had done a lot for Cora upon her moving back to their old stomping ground.

The bar along the far-right wall was a lake of glossy golden wood with brass trim and fixtures. Overhead there were chandeliers crafted like wagon wheels, hung horizontally with glass cylinders on top that resembled the old-style kerosene lanterns. Even the bulbs inside were shaped like flames.

Hard rock music—there was some old-school Rod Stewart currently playing—pumped from hidden speakers in the paneled wooden walls.

The barstools were the most unique feature of the bar; they were saddles, as in going for a trail ride horse saddle. And on each stool there were silver loops in various positions for a Dom to restrain their submissive. Scene areas were cordoned off along the wall opposite the bar with black velvet rope.

There was a seating area with umber brown leather couches the color of dark tree bark and Western style décor tables in complementary colored golden woods. It reminded her of a gentleman’s study, all masculine in design with a splice of Western flair. The constant hum of conversation was overshadowed by the slap of flesh and moans.

Cora didn’t mind the bump and grind action taking place in the scene areas, the small alcoves partitioned off with thick black velvet rope. Inside the separated areas was dungeon sex style furniture designed with the kinkster in mind, which attendees used to live out their sexual fantasies. And not just any kind of sex, this was the ‘tie me up, tie me down’ style of action. The fact that this club catered to those in the BDSM lifestyle was a minor trifling issue in the scheme of it all. Whips, chains, copious amounts of flesh on display, and dungeon sex furniture didn’t make Cora blush or embarrassed. Nor did witnessing the myriad number of blow jobs and all manner of raunchy sex, not when her tips waiting tables were more than she would make anywhere else in this town. A job was a job. And she needed the cash. Who cared if she had to address the guys as Sir? For the money she was making, she’d call them whatever the hell they wanted her to.

Then there was the added bonus of the sheer amount of masculine eye candy on display. For Cora, it was as if she had stepped into a fantasy. Like the rugged outdoors of Jackson Hole, Wyoming had imbued the male club members with an extra dollop of testosterone the size of one of the nearby mountains. They were men who exuded control, masters of the world around them, including the women who were lucky enough to catch their eye. If the blissed-out expressions on the submissives’ faces were any indication, a woman could do worse than hooking up with the tough-as-nails manly men at the club.

About the Author: Born in St. Louis, Missouri, Anya grew up listening to Cardinals baseball and reading anything she could get her hands on. She remembers her mother saying if only she would read the right type of books instead binging her way through the romance aisles at the bookstore, she’d have been a doctor. While Anya never did get that doctorate, she graduated cum laude from the University of Missouri-St. Louis with an M.A. in History.
Anya is a bestselling and award-winning author published in multiple fiction genres. She also writes urban fantasy and paranormal romance under the name Maggie Mae Gallagher. A total geek at her core, when she is not writing, she adores attending the latest comic con or spending time with her family. She currently lives in the Midwest with her two furry felines.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Amazon Author Page | BookBub Author Page | Instagram

Don’t miss these exciting titles by Anya Summers available now on Amazon:

Dungeon Fantasy Club Series

Her Highland Master, Book 1
To Master and Defend, Book 2
Two Doms for Kara, Book 3
His Driven Domme, Book 4
Her Country Master, Book 5
Love Me, Master Me, Book 6
Submit To Me, Book 7
Her Wired Dom, Book 8

Pleasure Island Series

Her Master & Commander, Book 1 < Her Music Masters, Book 2
Their Shy Submissive, Book 3
Her Lawful Master, Book 4
Her Rockstar Dom, Book 5
Duets & Dominance, Book 6
Her Undercover Dom, Book 7
Ménage In Paradise, Book 8
Her Rodeo Masters, Book 9

Cuffs & Spurs Series

His Scandalous Love
His Unexpected Love
His Wicked Love
His Untamed Love
His Tempting Love
His Seductive Love releasing November 2018
His Secret Love releasing January 2019
His Cherished Love releasing March 2019

The Alcyran Chronicles

Taken by the Beast
Claimed by the Beast releasing Fall 2018
Loved by the Beast releasing Winter 2019

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