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Book Blitzes

Prepare to get Blitzed and find some good reads!

Can't Let You Go - Book Blitz and Giveaway

6/13/2016

6 Comments

 

Can’t Let You Go
Allie Everhart
(A Wheeler Brothers Novel)
Publication date: June 5th 2016
Genres: New Adult, Romance

Bryce
I never should’ve kissed her. It happened almost four years ago, the night of our high school graduation. I’ve always wanted to be more than friends with Jen, and after we kissed, I wanted her more than anything. But I can’t have her. I won’t let myself. She needs to get out of here. She needs to start a new life, far away from her old one. So I’ll keep pushing her away, even though it kills me to do so. When she finally leaves, it’ll destroy me, but at least she’ll be happy. And that’s all I care about.

Jen
Bryce is my best friend, and has been for as long as I can remember. If it weren’t for him, I’d probably be living on the streets, but instead I’m in college and about to graduate. I’ve been applying for jobs and might end up leaving Chicago, but I don’t want to leave Bryce. I love him, and I know he loves me too. I could tell when he kissed me four years ago. But after that night, he refused to be anything more than my friend. Now time is running out. I might be moving away, ending any chance of Bryce and me ever being together. I know he wants to be with me, so why won’t he ask me to stay?

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EXCERPT:

Jen
I don’t think Chad’s the guy for you.” Bryce says ‘Chad’ like it’s the dumbest name he’s ever heard.

“Oh, really?” I say, crossing my arms. “Then who’s the right guy for me?”

There it is. Another chance for Bryce to say how he feels about me. Another chance for him to ask me out. But does he do it? Of course not.

He shakes his head. “I don’t know who the right guy is, but I know it’s not Chad.”

I sigh in frustration. “I have to go.” I get in my car. “I’ll see you later.” I pull on the door until he moves enough for me to close it.

“Hey.” He taps on the window as I start the engine.

I roll the window down. “What?”

“Are you going to dinner with him or not?”

Now I’m angry. Bryce always makes me like this. Loving him one minute, hating him the next. Well, it’s not hate, but it’s complete and utter annoyance and frustration.

“Not that it’s any of your business,” I say, “but yes, I am going to dinner with him. Goodbye, Bryce.” I roll my window up and pull out of my parking space and drive off. When I glance in the rearview mirror, I see Bryce still standing there, his head hung down, his hands wrapped around the back of his neck. He does that when he’s mad or frustrated. So he feels the same way as me. Good. We can both be miserable.

But why is that good? Why can’t we just be happy? Why can’t we be together like we want to be? And if we’re not going to be together, why aren’t we able to move on and be happy with other people?

Because we’re Jen and Bryce. That’s why. We’re best friends and we love each other and we’re meant to be together. But for some stupid reason we can’t.

And that stupid reason is Bryce.


Author Bio:

Allie Everhart is a hopeless romantic who writes books about love. Allie has authored fifteen novels, including The Jade Series, a college romance that follows the story of Jade and Garret as they deal with numerous obstacles trying to tear them apart. Her other series, The Kensingtons, is a romantic suspense series. Her standalone romance novels include Next to Me, and her latest book, Give Us a Chance.

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More Than Us - Book Blitz and Giveaway

6/13/2016

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MoreThanUs_Blitz

More Than Us

by Renee Ericson More Than Water 1.2 Publication Date: June 13, 2016 Genres: New Adult, Contemporary, Romance MTU e cover

Purchase: Amazon

It’s the wedding you’ve been waiting for… Evelyn and Foster cordially invite you to celebrate their blissful union of an unlikely and perfect chemistry. Guests should be prepared for major swooning, aching cheeks, misty eyes, and laughter. *More Than Us is a More Than Water wedding novelette that includes pitched tents, origami cranes, missing swim shorts, and a happily ever after fit for two opposites that are completely and totally in love with one another.

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About Renee Ericson

Renee Ericson is the author of More Than Water and the These Days series. Originally from the Midwest, she now resides in a small town just outside of Boston with her husband and three children. Most winters, Renee can be found on the slopes of the White Mountains skiing with her family. During the summer months, she likes to spend every spare minute at the beach soaking up the sea air. All those moments in between, she is talking to imaginary characters and caring for her children.

Website | Facebook | Twitter | Goodreads | Newsletter

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Hue - Pre-order Blitz and Giveaway

6/11/2016

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 Title: Hue
Series: Archaic #2
By: Regan Ure
Publication Date: June 25, 2016
Genre: YA Fantasy
Cover Design: Mayhem Cover Creations
You know her name. You know her story. You know her secret. She isn't like any other girl, not anymore. Jared Walker complicated everything; he told her his secret, stole her heart and showed her a whole new world. She knew then that she'd never be the same again. Ava Delaney is no longer human - she doesn't know what she is. She should probably figure it out. But there is much more important stuff that she needs to learn first: how to keep her new secret, how to fight and most importantly... how to survive a war that's older than time. She's not like any other girl, not anymore.
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Archaic Series #1
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Regan is a South African who is married to an IT specialist. She is also mom to a daughter and son. She discovered the joy of writing at the tender age of twelve. Her first two novels were teen fiction romance. She then got sidetracked into the world of computer programming and travelled extensively visiting twenty-seven countries. A few years ago after her son’s birth she stayed home and took another trip into the world of writing. After writing nine stories on a free writing website, winning an award and becoming a featured writer the next step was to publish her stories. If she isn’t writing her next novel you will find her reading soppy romance novels, shopping like an adrenaline junkie or watching too much television.
Social Media Links
Facebook - https://www.facebook.com/Regan-Ure-760780643959200/?ref=hl Goodreads - https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/13718899.Regan_Ure Twitter - @ReganUre Website - http://www.reganure.com Instagram - https://www.instagram.com/reganure/
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The Cowboy and The Vampire- Book Blitz and Giveaway

6/10/2016

2 Comments

 
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      The Cowboy and the Vampire: The Last Sunset
                    The Cowboy and the Vampire Collection Book Four
​                             By Clark Hays and Kathleen McFall
                                     Genre: Horror, Western, PNR
                                       Publisher: Pumpjack Press,
                                    Date of Publication: June 9, 2016

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​The Cowboy and the Vampire: The Last Sunset is the fourth book in award-winning The Cowboy and the Vampire Collection, a series called everything from cult classic to trailblazer in a new genre: Western Gothic.


Take one long, last look at LonePine, Wyoming, population 438. It’s been two years since the vampires quit the quirky little town and things are mostly back to normal — broken dreams and never enough whiskey. But that’s about to go to hell.


Hold on tight for a midnight showdown when a psychotic religious order takes the entire town hostage — including Tucker's long-lost brother — to lure Lizzie from her frozen exile in Russia. The mad monks know Lizzie’s murder will strand the ruling vampire elite in a disembodied afterlife so the cult can impose their twisted beliefs on the living and undead alike. It’s a rip-roarin’ stampede as a cowboy and a vampire try to round up the shattered pieces of their unusual romance.


With the fate of the world on the line yet again, can Tucker and Lizzie put aside their broken hearts to face one last sunset together?


Slap leather or reach for the sky.


This is the fourth book in The Cowboy and the Vampire Collection.


Amazon
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​The first few months were anguish. But then she threw herself into bringing order to her inherited chaos. If she was to run this vampire shit show, she would run it right. And she had, intensely, ruthlessly, for the first year.
Now, everyone knew the rules, knew the consequences for breaking the coda, and—if grudgingly—understood the wisdom behind the annual allocation. She kept her word, showing no favoritism. Nine turns picked by the Council, followed by one pick for Lizzie, with nine nights of rest. By the end of the first year, a fragile trust in her leadership was established.
By the beginning of the second year of her self-imposed exile, as the intensity of the work began to wane, she realized something had shifted. The full weight of her future lodged permanently, sadly, in her soul.
Rurik, forever circling like a handsome vulture, sensed the change.
“Finally, you admit to yourself he is not coming for you,” Rurik said.
“I knew he wouldn’t come,” Lizzie said, more sharply than intended.
“I’m not the one who requires persuading on this point,” Rurik said. “But no matter the reason, I am pleased. Stop working so hard. Amuse yourself with the privileges and pleasures your position affords. You can have anything you want, with no punishment.”
“Punishment?”
“From the society you once valued, or from yourself,” Rurik said. “You are free from guilt, free of all constraints, free to act upon your desires and to assume the glorious existence that awaits only your assent.”
Rurik felt something akin to compassion as he watched Lizzie struggle to control her emotions, mistaking liberation for captivity. He was right in one sense, though; she was coming to the same realization all vampires faced at some point in their long, undead existence, even those whose turning was consensual: there was no going back.
Yes, Lizzie thought, defiantly, as the first year passed into the second. If she was no longer ever to be a human, she might as well have fun. Why the hell not? She submerged herself into her passions and found that although not exactly fulfilling, it was diverting, covering her nightly routines with a shroud of hedonistic numbness that prevented any feelings at all—other than immediate pleasure—from surfacing.
She would never admit it, ever, but Rurik was right on another point. She had waited. She had hoped he would come for her, but why would he? She made it clear by breaking his heart that they would never be together. That he believed her ruse broke her heart.
Such a sad and dusty little tragedy, she thought, clutching the railing. A shadow by the lake’s edge caught her eye—Rurik, out with his dogs.
He felt her gaze and looked up, taking in her nude body and letting his senses wash over it, the closest—it seemed—he would come to possessing her, at least for the time being.
She could feel his heart stuttering, but held her own body in perfect check until he averted his eyes and continued his walk.
Lizzie once again considered whether it was time to move. Rurik’s home was spacious and lonely and safe and remote, and while he had been a good host to her, he enjoyed the power of proximity over the other tribes, and she understood he was motivated by a hope of his own.
“It is inevitable that you and I come together,” he once told her. “You have known this since we first met in that godforsaken American outpost.”
“Nothing is inevitable,” she said. Thwarting his passions had become a habit.
She wondered if Rurik ever missed the man he had once been, the brilliant military strategist who helped turn back the crusaders all those many years ago in a battle for Russia’s soul. “Ironic that you lost your soul in the process,” she said aloud and in his direction.
Her private cell phone buzzed on the bedside table. Lizzie padded back into the room, the wolfhound in tow.
Elita. She picked up the phone.
“Yes?”
“My queen,” Elita said, managing to sound both sarcastic and reverential. Was there a difference, Lizzie wondered?
“My loyal subject, my lovely maid-in-waiting,” Lizzie replied. In all this madness, Elita was her only certainty.
“Whatever that means,” Elita said. “How’s the frozen tundra treating you?”
“Still frozen. Have you wrestled the American Royals and the Reptiles into peaceful coexistence?”
“We’re making progress, one corpse at a time.”
“When will you visit?” Lizzie asked.
“I’m on my way now,” Elita said.
Lizzie paused. That was not a good sign. “That’s a welcome, but unexpected surprise.”
“What I must tell you may not be so welcome.”
“Tell me now,” Lizzie said.
“I’ll save the details until I can tell you face to face, but in brief, I’ve heard rumblings, screaming really, that you have a new enemy.”
“Why would that concern me?”
“Keep your guard up until I arrive.”
“My guard is never down,” Lizzie said, breaking the connection.”


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Between the two of them, Clark Hays and Kathleen McFall have worked in writing jobs ranging from cowboy-poet to energy journalist to restaurant reviewer to university press officer. After they met, their writing career took center stage when they wrote the first book in The Cowboy and the Vampire Collection as a test for marriage. They passed. Clark and Kathleen now live in Portland, Oregon.


Website: www.cowboyandvampire.com
Facebook: www.facebook.com/cowboyandvampire
Twitter: https://twitter.com/cowboyvamp
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/cowboyvampire/ ​
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#Swag - Book Blitz and Giveaway

6/10/2016

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#Swag
Cambria Hebert
(GearShark, #3)
Publication date: June 10th 2016
Genres: Contemporary, New Adult, Romance, Sports

These drivers got #swag…

Racing is in her DNA.
Right alongside money and power.
When you’re the daughter of one of the most powerful men in the country,
you have to work harder for success.
Joey Gamble’s a girl on a male-dominated track.
With a daddy who can buy whatever she wants.
But she doesn’t want anything… except to EARN her reputation.

Racing is his passion.
Trouble follows him everywhere. Some even say he invites it.
When you’re nipping at the taillights of the best driver in the new NRR,
you have to fight and claw for each and every success.
It’s never been easy for Lorhaven.
That’s why he doesn’t play by the rules.
He’s a man with a serious chip on his shoulder against the pro racing circuit.
We at GearShark want to know what’s up with that.

We’ve also been hearing rumblings…
of a pro who wants to go indie.

We’ve invited racing royalty and the driver from the wrong side of the tracks to sit down and talk to us about a possible crossover.
We expected sparks to fly when Joey and Lorhaven crossed paths.
Will those sparks ignite into a full-on inferno?

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Read an excerpt of #SWAG here!

swagteaser10 swagteaser4


Author Bio:

Cambria Hebert is an award winning, bestselling novelist of more than twenty books. She went to college for a bachelor’s degree, couldn’t pick a major, and ended up with a degree in cosmetology. So rest assured her characters will always have good hair.

Besides writing, Cambria loves a caramel latte, staying up late, sleeping in, and watching movies. She considers math human torture and has an irrational fear of chickens (yes, chickens). You can often find her running on the treadmill (she’d rather be eating a donut), painting her toenails (because she bites her fingernails), or walking her chorkie (the real boss of the house).

Cambria has written within the young adult and new adult genres, penning many paranormal and contemporary titles. Her favorite genre to read and write is romantic suspense. A few of her most recognized titles are: The Hashtag Series, Text, Torch, and Tattoo.

Cambria Hebert owns and operates Cambria Hebert Books, LLC.

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Conflict of Interest - Pre-Order Blitz and Giveaway

6/10/2016

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 Title: Conflict of Interest
Series: Employee Relations #1
By: Teresa Michaels
Publication Date: July 8, 2016
Genre: Contemporary Romance
Cover Design: Mayhem Cover Creations
Ambitious and insightful, Gabby DiVergilio only has one thing standing in the way of her climbing the corporate ladder: her new business partner, Lucas McCarthy. He's arrogant and dismissive, driving her mad with his sexy Irish accent in every possible way. Recently promoted to the executive ranks, Lucas must prove that he’s the right man for the job. He never expected that the HR professional he’d be forced to work with on a daily basis would be gorgeous, challenging and smart as hell. He’s not the type to accept help from anyone, especially not a bubbly, policy-enforcer that he’d rather bend over his desk. Never one to lose focus, Lucas avoids Gabby at all costs until circumventing her becomes career suicide. Fraternizing in the workplace is strictly prohibited and neither one of them are willing to break the rules. But with their undeniable chemistry about to ignite, Lucas and Gabby must decide which consequence is worse – combusting from sexual frustration or violating company policy.
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Teresa Michaels lives outside of Boston with her husband and children. When she’s not writing, she can be found skiing or playing in the sand with her family. She’s the author of the romantic suspense Curveball Series and the soon-to-be released contemporary romance, Conflict of Interest.
Social Media Links
Facebook - http://on.fb.me/1Pitkst Goodreads - http://bit.ly/1IGkdSx Twitter - @authorTMichaels
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Three Two One - Book Blitz and Giveaway

6/9/2016

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Three, Two, One (321)
J.A. Huss
Publication date: January 27th 2015
Genres: Dark Romantic Suspense

ONE GIRL

Battered, barefoot, and huddled under a bookstore awning in the pouring rain, Blue only knows one thing. After fifteen months of captivity, finally… she is free.

TWO FRIENDS

Self-made millionaires JD and Ark are not out to save anyone when they stumble upon a wet and shivering girl one early Sunday morning. But when you sell sex for a living and salvation rings your bell… you answer the call.

THREE SOULMATES

After years of searching, love lifts the veil of darkness, and three people—with three very big secrets—find themselves bound together in a relationship that defies the odds.

Or does it?

Love. Lust. Sex.

This trinity might be perfection… but not everything should come in threes.

WARNING: This is a STANDALONE non-traditional M/F/M ROMANCE with a non-traditional ending.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iTunes / Kobo / Audible

One week only – 99¢ for first time ever!
Buy the eBook for 99¢ and get the full audiobook version for only $3.47.
If you already own the eBook, you still get the discount audiobook price with Whispersync!
321_AUDIO_PROMO

CAUTION: If you thought this book was stop-your-heart-sexy in print, just wait until you hear Sebastian York narrate the sexy scenes between JD, Ark, and Blue.! DO NOT LISTEN TO THIS BOOK IN PUBLIC, IN FRONT OF CHILDREN, OR YOUR HUSBAND (unless you listen together and want to get lucky!)

--

EXCERPT:

I walk quietly over to the door and press my ear against it to listen. I can hear the clicking of a computer keyboard, then the rolling wheels of a chair. Finally soft footsteps as he pads towards the doors. I back away, afraid of being caught. But he doesn’t slide them open. Instead, the lights flick off and then his footsteps retreat. I hear the crack of a beer bottle being opened, and then a sigh.

I slide the doors apart, just enough to peek inside.

There’s a large monitor on the desk sitting on front of a wall of windows. And on the screen are the images he took of me this morning. Of JD and me. And of the three of us out on the terrace. They flip by, hundreds of them, at least. Maybe thousands. I look over at the couch where he’s sitting with a beer propped up on his leg, staring at me.

“You can look at them if you come in here to do it.”

I don’t know how he wants me to respond, so I’m unsure if I want to look at them or run back to JD’s room and hide.

“I’m sorry about that,” Ark says, clearing his throat. “It’s just… JD stopped thinking about her, ya know? It took him so fucking long to stop thinking about her. And now here you are with a clue. And…”

I step into the room.

“And he’s gonna go looking for shit again, I just know it.”

I take another step towards him and Ark pats the space on the couch next to him. “I love these pictures. Come look at them with me.”

I take two more steps, and then I’m within arm’s reach and he slips his hand in mine.

My body shivers from his touch, but I let him pull me the rest of the way, and take a seat as he lets go. My butt is barely perched on the cushion, my hands in my lap, my body on high alert in case he wants to hurt me.

But he doesn’t. He surprises me by scooting away, propping his back against the armrest, and stretching out his legs behind me. They are long and in the way, so now I can’t lean back.

He takes a swig from his beer. “I saw you this morning. God, has it only been one day?” I know what he means. It feels like I’ve been in their house forever. “And answers were the last thing on my mind, Blue. I mean, fuck. I’d given up, just like JD. I gave up a while back, actually. Just accepted that this was the way things were. The way my life was gonna go. But fuck.”

I don’t know what any of that means, but I take that it’s not good by the way he finishes the beer and then throws it across the room, where it lands cleanly in an open-top trash can near the desk. “Get me another one, will you?”

I look down at him and squint.

He stares back. His eyes are bleary, and red, and now that I look closely, tired. Not tired like he needs sleep. But tired in a way I can relate to. The kind of tired where your body feels heavy and your mind feels empty. “Never mind,” he says in a soft voice that I’ve never heard before. He says it, but he doesn’t stop staring.

“What?” I ask, getting uncomfortable.

“Why’d you come in here?”

“I was…” I was looking for my money so I could leave. But this guy. These guys… they are pulling me towards them somehow. JD and his charm. Ark and his distance. And despite the fact that they take advantage of girls for a living, they feel very… vulnerable. It feels precarious. Like the whole thing might come crashing down at any moment. Like they are held together by some invisible thread. And not some mental connection or shared experience, either. Although I have no doubt they have all that too.

Held together by a thread that’s invisible because it’s nearly gone.

We are alike, then. Aren’t we?

Three people brought together by the early-morning rain.

Two of us clinging together, trying to stick it out. Ride the wave until it crashes, and then help each other up to start all over again.

One of us already dead. Still walking, but not living. Waiting to be saved. Or maybe wanting to be the one who does the saving.

650di review


Author Bio:

JA Huss is the USA Today bestselling author of more than twenty romances. She likes stories about family, loyalty, and extraordinary characters who struggle with basic human emotions while dealing with bigger than life problems. JA loves writing heroes who make you swoon, heroines who makes you jealous, and the perfect Happily Ever After ending.

You can chat with her on Facebook (www.facebook.com/AuthorJAHuss), Twitter (@jahuss), and her blog, New Adult Addiction (www.jahuss.com).

If you’re interested in getting your hands on an advanced release copy of her upcoming books, sneak peek teasers, or information on her upcoming personal appearances, you can join her newsletter list (http://eepurl.com/JVhAr) and get those details delivered right to your inbox.

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Dating An Alien Pop Star - Book Blitz and Giveaway

6/7/2016

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Dating an Alien Pop Star
Kendra L. Saunders
Published by: Crimson Tree Publishing
Publication date: June 7th 2016
Genres: Adult, Comedy, Romance

Daisy Kirkwood has only just escaped her small-town life and run away to New York City, the land of last-minute secret gigs at famous musical venues, when she’s kidnapped by aliens. Unfortunately, no one ever writes about how to handle alien abduction in those fancy NYC guidebooks.

Griffin and Dev are supermassively sexy aliens from a politically and environmentally troubled planet who arrive on Earth with very little knowledge about human ways other than what they learned from a wayward E! News signal. Their mission is to pretend to be the most influential people on the planet—English pop stars, of course!—and gain the help of a powerful secret society. Upon arriving, they abduct Daisy Kirkwood, a nerdy young woman who loves music but could seriously use a bit of help in the love-life department. Though Griffin and Daisy initially squabble, neither can deny the intergalactic sparks whenever they’re too close to each other. Together, they must face murderous aliens, cultural misunderstandings, bad backup musicians, and the dark side of fame and the media, all set against a tight deadline…

Part High Fidelity, part Bridget Jones’ Diary, part Doctor Who, Dating an Alien Pop Star is a sexy romantic comedy.

Goodreads / Amazon / Barnes & Noble / iBooks / Kobo

EXCERPT:

Griffin raises a dark eyebrow. “Are you afraid of me?”

“I didn’t say I’m afraid!”

“But are you?”

“No!”

“Good.” He kicks off his shoes. “This will be a nice period of bonding for us, Wanda.”

“Why are you here?” I demand, sitting on the edge of the bed and crossing my arms over my chest. “You say you want to become the most powerful being on the planet with your music and all of that, but why?”

“It’s none of your business.”

“It’s my planet, so it is my business. You’re not planning to brainwash all of us, and then harvest our organs or something, are you? Keep our livers in jars in a spaceship somewhere? Burn the planet and then plant your weird medicinal drugs here?”

Griffin stalks closer to me with every word, until he’s standing directly in front of me, the glowing light in his eyes showing through the lenses. “And if I am, do you think you’re going to stop me?”

A shudder traces through me. I’m not sure if it’s because of his words or because he’s standing so close. “I’ll have to stop you,” I say in a very brave tone. Okay, actually, it’s not brave at all. More like a wheezy whisper. But Bjork or Kim Gordon wouldn’t just bow down to an alien invasion without at least attempting to protect their planet, and neither will I.

Before I can fully process what’s happening, Griffin’s pinned me down, holding my wrists against the bed under his hands. His body, though slight, feels substantial and warm against mine—simultaneously threatening and a bit of a turn on. “You don’t know me very well at all, do you, Wanda?” he whispers, and I want to correct him about my name, but I find it hard to say anything at all. “I would never come all the way to your planet just to enjoy the food and then destroy it. I’m not cruel!”

“I don’t know anything about you, other than your bad taste in clothes,” I say, but his weight pressed against my pelvis has my body pulsing and warm all over. Bad, bad, bad.

“Then look into me, why don’t you? You could see anything you wanted, if you’d just look. I’d let you.”

When I shake my head, he releases me, climbing right over top of me to take his place on the bed. I can feel the mattress shaking a bit, and I gather my wits enough to sit up and glance at him. He’s maneuvered his way out of the rest of his clothes, leaving only the underwear.

Thank God. Especially since my close proximity reveals he’s not doing too bad in that department. Even under a layer of fabric.


Author Bio:

Kendra L. Saunders is a time-and-space traveling fashionista author who writes books about magical, dark-haired men, interviews famous people, and suggests way too many bands to you via whatever social media platform she can get her hands on. She writes with good humor because humor is the best weapon for a girl who can't learn karate (or ballroom dancing).

She is the author of DATING AN ALIEN POP STAR, the magic realism novel INANIMATE OBJECTS, dark comedy DEATH AND MR. RIGHT, the upcoming romance THE UNLOVE SPELL, and has conducted interviews with NYT Bestselling author Jennifer L. Armentrout, goth rocker Aurelio Voltaire, and Project Runway winners Dmitry Sholokhov and Michelle Lesniak Franklin among many, many others.

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Dream Magic - Release Blitz and Giveaway

6/7/2016

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 Title: Dream Magic
Series: The Magic Series #2
By: Michelle Mankin
Publication Date: June 7, 2016
Genre: Paranormal Romance
The dreamscape is a place of magic and mystery and meaning. In that nocturnal realm, ideas, images, sensations and emotions drift on the currents of the unconscious mind.
Morpheus the Dream Falcon is most at home in that domain. By night, the one of a kind winged immortal soars on those winds, observing and sometimes even entering the slumbering thoughts of another. By day, he is a highly sought after mercenary feared by his immortal kin for both his unmatched ferocity and his wicked obsidian talons. None of his prey escapes him.
Cecilia Ramirez y Aguilera is the one he truly wants. But the striking oracle of the Court of the Light Immortals is closed to the handsome outlaw, even in her dreams. Broken by unimaginable losses, the seer is but a slave, subject to the whims of a master who is mad and without mercy.
Drawn together by fate, their impossible passion ignites. But will that be enough given the dangerous secrets each keeps from the other? Or will mistrust and the desire for revenge threaten to unravel the powerful magic that binds them?
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Catch up on the series with Strange Magic
The Magic Series #1
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Amazon UK - http://goo.gl/bQB4Q7
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When you compare the sorrows of real life to the pleasures of the imaginary one, you will never want to live again, only to dream forever. - Alexandre Dumas
Prologue
June 1998 Cecilia “Hey, Mamá.” “Hola, mejita.” My mother turned smiling indulgently at the ever present headphones around my neck and the huge stack of music and fashion magazines I toted into the kitchen with me. “Dinner’s almost ready.” She used a spatula to flip something that sizzled and released a deliciously garlicky aroma into the air. Plátanos. My mouth watered and my empty stomach grumbled. “What’s new in the entertainment world?” “Not much.” I lifted the Rolling Stone magazine to show her the cover and made a face. “Except Star Angel is breaking up with Brad.” “Chica doesn’t stay with any one man long does she?” “I know, right?” I shook my head in disbelief of my favorite diva’s man eating ways. The blunt ends of my straight hair swished against my shoulders. The halter and loose linen shorts I wore weren’t cutting edge fashion like Star preferred and I dreamed about, but it was way too hot in the rainforest for haute couture. “Didn’t those two have a child together?”Mamá asked returning her attention to the stove. “Yeah. That’s the saddest part.” I set aside the magazine. I planned to finish the article later. Being an aspiring singer, I was interested in finding out where Star thought her present heartache would take her professionally. For now I followed my nose across the bamboo floors that were smooth against my bare feet. “Mmm, mofongo.” I smiled widely. Plantains mashed with garlic, chicharrones, and olive oil. My favorite Puerto Rican dish. I snatched a pinch from one of the starchy slices on the paper towel lined plate. “No, Cecilia,” my mother chided, pewter eyes the same unusual moonbeam shade as my own glowing softly. “We’ll eat soon. Your papá should be home any minute.” “Sorry, Mamá.” I blew on my prize to cool it, and returned to the table my father had built using wood from an Ausubo tree prized for its decay and termite resistant properties. I popped the crispy morsel into my mouth and savored the rich flavor for a moment. “What’s the special occasion?” I asked her before licking the salty garlic residue from my fingertips. Making mofongo was time consuming. It wasn’t an everyday treat. Blue marlin filets were laid out alongside the mortar and pestle she would use to mash the fried plantains. “And when did Papá go to the north coast?” Our home in the El Yunque Rainforest was far from the side of the island where that particular fish flourished. “So many questions, mejita.” She flipped off the gas burner and turned to face me blotting perspiration from her forehead with a kitchen towel and lifting her glossy ebony hair away from her neck so the late evening breeze would cool it. “Did you and Millie get the herbs?” “Si, Mamá. They were easy to find once we...after we…” Carajo. Shit “We have all of them. Everything on the list.” I pressed my lips flat, kicking myself for almost admitting how my twin had helped me locate them. Unfortunately for me, my mamá knew me too well to overlook my verbal stumbling. Her grey eyes narrowed. I nervously shifted my weight from one foot to the other. I swore that woman was psychic. At least she had an unsettling ability to read me, even if that wasn’t her gifting. “Cecilia Ramirez y Aguilera. You know better! Your papá and I have told you over and over again. No scrying! I…” She snapped her mouth shut as my papá appeared striding into the kitchen wearing only cutoff shorts. His six foot six inch frame overshadowed Millie who stood a full foot shorter like me. Hips swaying rhythmically, blissfully unaware of the trouble I had gotten us into, she was humming some silly tune I had composed for her when we were kids. “What’s wrong, Panacea, mi preciosa?” My father’s voice had a lilting musical quality similar to my own. Millie had inherited his angelic beauty, not that I was jealous. I doted on my sweet sibling just as everyone else in my family did. My father’s ruby-red gaze hardened as he glanced back and forth between my mamá and me. I gulped around the growing knot in my throat while twisting my hands together. I knew it was only a matter of time before he found out. He wouldn’t be deterred. Millie shot me a questioning look. I gave my head a subtle shake cautioning her not to give anything away. I was always treading into troubled waters. I wanted to avoid dragging her down with me for once. “Raphael. Don’t be mad.” My mamá held his gaze using her most soothing tone. “But I fear the girls were scrying when they went out for herbs earlier today.” “What?” he roared his displeasure in a deliberately measured volume. If he chose to he could reduce a solid structure to rubble with only the power of his utterance. Nevertheless, Mamá’s colorful Fiestaware dishes rattled ominously on the open shelves. He snapped open his wings, fourteen feet of intimidating span, several inches thick yet as transparent as if they had been fashioned from flawless glass. Dazzling when reflecting direct sunlight, they were most mesmerizing on a cloudless night, when they sparkled with the light of the Creator’s stars. An unstable lapis coffee cup tumbled to the floor shattering into jagged pieces in front of me. I took a step back and assumed a protective stance in front of my twin, not because Papá would ever hurt us. He loved us, both of us…only unequally. But he frightened Millie whenever he got angry. Her pretty sea foam green eyes wide Millie pressed closer. She might be his favorite but I didn’t hold that against her. Unlike me, she was easy to love, and she was my twin. We stuck together. No matter what. Mamá said we were sympatico, dos uno, two parts that made up one whole. I took her trembling hand and squeezed to reassure her. I felt our emotions settling the instant we touched. “Have I not expressly forbidden you from using your gifts?” My father’s angry red gaze skewered me. I managed a submissive nod. “I am extremely disappointed in you, my daughter. I don’t make rules to make your life difficult. You know they’re for your safety. I’ve told you countless times how violent our immortal world can be and how critical it is that we maintain our anonymity in it.” The golden skin over his bulging biceps stretched beneath the strain as he crossed his tensed arms across his chest. “Why take such a risk for a handful of herbs, Cecilia?” His gaze narrowed further. “Did you forget? Is that your excuse for disobeying me this time? Or do you think that you know better since you seem so ready to set out on your own?” My mamá frowned as she rose from the floor where she had been scooping up the broken pieces of pottery. Millie’s fingers tightened in mine. “I didn’t forget. I didn’t think…” “That’s the problem. Most of the time you don’t think at all, Cecilia.” His criticism made my stomach cramp, but I tilted up my chin defiantly. “You’re overreacting. It only took us a moment. It’s unlikely anyone was around to notice.” I didn’t have it in me to back down whenever he laid into me. So I just dove deeper into it. “I know you think my rules are too confining.” He shook his head disappointedly. “That our home is a cage to you. That you desperately yearn for your freedom. What you fail to see is that everything I do is done out of love for you and your sister and a desire to protect you. I have years of knowledge and experience that you lack. Your mamá and I pray to the Creator daily that you and your sister will never experience what the worst of our kind have to offer.” I sighed, ducked my head and mumbled, “I’m sorry I disobeyed you.” “Your apology would be of little consolation to your mother and me if you’re both dead, Cecilia. You know as well as I do that even though it only takes a moment for you to scry, that act leaves behind a unique residue that another foresight gifted immortal can trace even days later.” I nodded somberly my guilt increasing as I felt Millie shaking beside me. She had an active imagination, one fueled by her voracious reading habit. It didn’t take more than a suggestion of danger by Papá to set it in motion. “Besides, using your gifts scares the mortals,” he continued. “It’s a delicate enough balance for us living among them and having them accept us as it is.” “You’re right, Papá.” I nodded obediently. His anger seemingly spent, his expression softened. He slowly retracted his massive wings. Though powerful enough to launch him and a passenger into the sky within a single heartbeat, they were completely invisible when tucked into his shoulder blades. My mother set the shards of pottery she had gathered on the counter and tucked her curvy body into her husband’s rock solid side. Throwing his arm around her shapely shoulders, he pulled her closer. They had been married for over a century yet the passion between them remained visibly strong. “You leave me no choice but to punish you, Cecilia,” he declared sternly. “No television. No excursions to town. Not even to assist your mamá with her healings.” “But Papá,” I began. “I have so much to do before I move…” “No.” He shushed me with a sharp gesture. “I’ve been far too lenient with you. You need to learn once and for all to use better judgment.” His eyes flared, glowing red embers within a fire. Familiar with that look, I braced. “You will also sleep tonight in the guestroom without your sister.” A very harsh punishment indeed. I didn’t sleep well when separated from Millie. Tears pricked my eyes, but I curled my fingernails into my palms refusing to cry. I wasn’t going to let on how much his discipline upset me. “Is that really necessary, Raph? You know neither one can sleep when separated from the other.” “I know, my love. That’s why I’m doing it.” He gently tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear as he peered down at her. “The lesson must sink in for both of them. They need to look after each other. One day soon, they will be on their own. I’ve tried my best to prepare them for the world they are so set on experiencing but obviously there are lessons yet to be learned.” His gaze returned to me. “There will be no more talk of you moving out, not until I see proof that you are maturing.” I knew his tone meant his decision was final, but he had been right when he said I was desperate to be out on my own. To be so close and to have that taken away...I couldn’t, I wouldn’t let it go. “Papá, no,” I pleaded feeling my hopes and dreams drifting away. “We are nearly twenty one. You promised.” “Nevertheless.” His expression grew sterner. “Your questionable judgment puts you and your sister at undue risk. You know she is your shadow forever looking to you for direction. I can’t permit it.” I lowered my gaze my eyes stinging with the burn of bitter disappointment. “Papá.” Millie moved forward placing her platinum locks on his shoulder. The light color matched his exactly, so rare for Dark Immortals. “Por favor.” She reached for his hand. “Please, don’t take this away from Cici. She has an apartment already and a waitressing job at the Blue Parrot.” “I’m sorry. It’s no longer open for discussion, little one, maybe in time I will reconsider.” His expression troubled, he shook his head and his crystal clear wings emerged slowly forming sharp peaks over each shoulder. His focus shifted to the open window. His chin tilted toward it and his nostrils flared as if he had scented something unpleasant. He turned to my mother. “I’m going to make a quick pass above the trees to make sure everything is safe.” He placed a kiss on the top of her head and gently squeezed my sister’s shoulder before turning to me. “Set the table for your mamá . I will return shortly.” ***** “¡Ándale!” I hissed low setting the heavy backpack stuffed with my belongings at my feet. “If you’re going to come with me, honey, then come. Otherwise stay and get back in bed with your book. And don’t tell them anything until tomorrow.” Hopefully by then it would be too late for Papá to drag me home. I tapped my flip flops against the spongy mat of decomposed vegetation outside our guest bedroom window, my impatience leaving squishy indentations on the forest floor. I loved my parents but lately I chafed daily under their authority. I refused to stick around the undetermined period of time it would take for Papá to change his mind. If it had been up to me I would have left home right after high school. If I had maybe I would already have saved up enough money working in Old San Juan to hop on a plane to Miami or Los Angeles, somewhere less isolated than the island, somewhere my singing career might actually have a legitimate chance to take off, somewhere full of the excitement and drama I craved. Anywhere but slow-paced and boring here. “Of course I’m coming with you, as if I’d let you leave me behind,” Millie huffed throwing her own backpack out the window a moment before her narrow butt poked through it. “You’re such a pain in my rear, Cici.” She threw one tanned leg over the wooden sill, then the other, shimmying her torso toward the ground. I reached up to help her, placing my hands on her hips. She dropped gracefully onto the rain softened soil beside me and retrieved her pack. Our bungalow style home was higher off the ground than stateside ones, a practicality to keep it above the floodwaters during the rainy season. “Do you always have to wear white?” I complained with just enough volume to be heard over the chorus of nighttime insects and the ‘Couqui’ cries of the tree frogs. I didn’t want to wake our slumbering parents. They had both gone into their room after dinner, but being Dark Immortals whose internal clocks were set by the moon they would arise as soon as it reached its pinnacle. “Would it kill you to choose some color for a change?” The brighter and more contrasting the better in my opinion, something like the fushia top and indigo shorts I had changed into for our escape. Plus, though I often complained about Papá’s constant lessons in self-preservation, they hadn’t been entirely lost on me. White stuck out in the dark. No one gets hurt if they are invisible to their enemies, Cecilia. “It’s a long walk to the falls where Ernesto is meeting us,” I told her. “You’re going to get dirty and you’re going to stand out like a pale faced tourista in the market.” “But white’s my best color.” Flip flops just like mine clicked against the loam on the well-worn hiking trail as she trotted to keep pace with me. Our shoes were the only thing that matched tonight. If we let our mamá have her way she would still be dressing us exactly alike, even though we were way too old for that type of thing. Besides we were fraternal, not identical twins. “Do you think Ernesto asked Jaime to come along?” Her eyes sparkled brightly with excitement. I think she would have bounced on her toes but her pack was too heavy. I bit back a grin. Jaime was a cute boy, sweet and a dreamer like she was. She had been crushing on him for months. Their feelings seemed to be reciprocal though neither had been brave enough to make a first move. Ernesto on the other hand was bold to the point of being aggressive, as different from his brother in personality as I was to Millie. I actually enjoyed the thrill of danger she only liked reading about in her books. Ernesto appealed to my impulsive rebellious nature. Thus this impromptu late night rendezvous at the falls. Mamá wouldn’t approve. She would never allow a boy with a reputation like Ernesto take me into town. I didn’t really like the idea of owing him a favor. But he had a truck and I had no other option for the long drive into Old San Juan. There weren’t many guys willing to defy my father. He was a legendary Dark Immortal, and though mortals like Ernesto didn’t suspect that, they could sense his power. He was an Ancient after all, one of only four who had guarded the four gates of the Great City on the Otherside. Beautiful and brilliant, their curiosity had lured them to the above ground world. Once angelic, they turned vampiric the moment they had risen from the earth to partake of its temptations and pleasures. Papá was completely immune to the sun, unlike the legions of vampires he inadvertently spawned before he learned to regulate his thirst. He was the strongest of the four Ancients, which was why with Papá as his first lieutenant, Apollyon had easily defeated his challengers to establish his throne far beneath the city of New Orleans. Though not really as powerful as our father, Millie and I shared a rare talent, one disconcerting to humans and immortals alike. My family was not the only Dark Immortals who found the isolation of the rainforest to be an excellent refuge, but we were definitely the most feared. Outcasts among outcasts. Our own kind even shied away from us. We were tolerated and sheltered because of my mother. She was a healer. A bruja. A witch doctor. Unparalleled in her craft, loved and revered because of it. The Creator’s magic was stamped into every cell of her marrow, an aftereffect from when her parents had done the unthinkable, partaking of the forbidden water of the Spring of the Afterlife while yet living. Assisting her over the years I had seen her heal grievous wounds of both mortals and immortals. Although our blood was much less potent, that same gift of healing had been passed along to Millie and me. But our chief gifting was the ability to predict the future of a person if we touched someone or something important to them. In some cases we could even catch glimpses into their past. We also had an advanced ability to scry for lost people or items like those missing herbs. Millie reached for my hand and held it as we continued down the narrow path to the waterfall. I smiled at her appreciating her ready affection. I wasn’t as confident about leaving tonight as I was pretending to be. But I couldn’t hide anything from Millie, especially my emotions. She knew I wished I could be more sensitive and caring. Easier to love. Like she was. Like Mamá . No surprise that after only one meeting with my mother, our father had insisted upon her release as a final reward for his long and faithful service to Apollyon. Then he had resigned his commission and walked away from all the privileges his dangerous but powerful position had once afforded him. Millie had my father’s looks and my mother’s inner spiritual beauty. Me? I was a compilation of my parents, too, just a confusing, jumbled one. Mamá fussed at me whenever I bemoaned the less than fortunate mixture “Cecilia Ramirez y Aguilera,” she was fond of telling me, “los árboles no están dejando ver el bosque. You can’t see the forest for the trees. You are different si, but muy bonita in your own unique way if only you would realize it. Believe in it and accept yourself the way the Creator intended you to be.” I tucked a strand of my soft as silk but unsettling two toned platinum and ebony hair back beneath the black bandana I usually wore scarf style to conceal it. If only I had a demon’s ability to cloak it or a shape shifter’s talent to take a whole other form. If only I could I would get rid of the patrician nose I had inherited from my father. If only I could make my hair one uniform shade instead of pitch black superficially with underlying layers of platinum that reflected the sun during the day and sparkled with the illumination of the stars at night like my father’s wings. The fact that my silver eyes glowed like the new moon whenever my emotions were heightened added to the freak show of my appearance. I was not surprised that people from our small town in the rainforest kept their distance from me, but it still hurt that they did. If we had been born into a different time, my sister and I would have been honored, like the oracles of old who predicted the future in a time when immortals had walked openly upon the earth and had been worshipped by men as gods. But there was no honor for our talents in a modern society where everything supernatural had to be explained scientifically. These days we had to hide our gifts as carefully as I concealed my hair. Millie and I stepped out from beneath the shadowed shelter of the tropical trees and entered the moonlit rocky clearing surrounding the base of the falls. An icy prickle of awareness made the fine hairs on the back of my neck stand on end. I felt like someone was watching us. I darted a quick glance back at the dark forest. I didn’t see anyone. The nighttime sounds remained undisturbed. Chastising myself for being overly paranoid like my papá, I carefully picked my way over the uneven surface with my twin. “Mamacita,” Ernesto greeted, pushing away from the woody trunk of the Banyan tree where he had been leaning. Prowling confidently toward us, his tight jeans hugged his athletic form and the thick rope chain around his neck sparkled in the moonlight. My heartrate kicked up louder in my ears than the roar of the falls as he leisurely scanned me. He looked at me as if I were his dinner, his lips slowly lifting into a cocky grin. “I wasn’t expecting your sister,” he purred stretching out his arm to me. I placed my hand in his, feeling all warm and shivery when his fingers closed tightly around mine. His gaze flicked to Millie his expression darkening with displeasure he didn’t attempt to hide. “I thought you said she wasn’t coming until tomorrow.” “Change of plans.” I shrugged. “Why don’t we pick up your brother and make it a double date?” “He’s working late.” My sister’s face fell. She wore her emotions out in the open for all to see. A calculating glint narrowed Ernesto’s eyes. “But I can call and ask him to meet us at the apartment. By the time we arrive he should be done with his shift.” He slid his cell from the pocket of his pressed jeans. “Thank you,” I mouthed to him as he placed the call. “Anything for you, mi bonita.” He pulled me tighter to his side, his smooth fingertips tracing distracting circles on my skin. I was sure he hoped Jaime would occupy Millie while he got me alone. I knew he wanted to take things to the next level. In theory, I agreed. Almost twenty-one and still a virgin, I took it as proof of my unattractiveness. Not only that, it was a hindrance to writing sexy lyrics when I had no frame of reference. It was just another way Millie and I differed. She was holding out for true love, like Mamá and Papá had found, like characters in the British Classics she preferred to read. Tugging me along, Ernesto guided me along the path to his old truck. His free hand slid to the small of my back the tips of his fingers resting on the swell of my ass. Yeah, he was definitely expecting some action in repayment for his assistance tonight. If Millie noticed where his hand lay, lower than I was comfortable with truth be told, she didn’t say anything. She remained a silent chaperone on the trail beside us. Ernesto opened the passenger side door for me. I tossed my backpack inside, stepped onto the muddy running board and scooted to the middle of the bench seat. Millie followed. The hinge creaked and slammed as Ernesto shut us in. He flashed a suave smile as he rounded the hood. My stomach fluttered with nerves. For some reason I couldn’t summon any anticipation, even as I tried imagining receiving one of his slow kisses. I tensed as he twisted the latch on the driver’s side. Suddenly, a shadow denser than the dark night fell over him. A harsh clanging filled the air. Face lifting, his expression turned into one of terror. My blood chilled as he gasped throwing his body backward against the vehicle so hard it rocked. A moment later clawed feet tore into the skin of his shoulders. Blood welled before he was ripped away up into the air. Panic froze me in its icy grip until Millie shattered it with her scream. I turned and saw the stone face of a gargoyle with saggy eyes and a horn in the center of his forehead peering into the window on her side. My panic morphed into heart slamming full blown fear. We knew from Papá’s lessons that gargoyles were Apollyon’s preferred envoys. “Lock your door!” I shouted, quickly jamming my body into the vacant driver’s seat. I turned the key and started the ignition. Motor roaring to life, I yanked the shift stick into drive and slammed my foot down on the gas pedal. The truck wheels spun in the mud for a terrifying moment before we finally lurched into motion. My teeth rattled as the vehicle bumped in and out of potholes on the way down the mountain. Before I could catch a breath, a heavy form crashed onto the hood. It rocked the truck frame creasing the metal. Blood splashed across the windshield before it rolled off. Millie and I screamed in unison at the sight of what I knew to be Ernesto’s headless body. I flipped on the windshield wipers to clear the glass. I didn’t have time to process. I had to drive. I had to get somewhere safe fast. I had to protect my sister. The steering wheel vibrated in my clammy hands. It was hard to hold onto because of our speed and the jarring surface of the road. I gripped it tighter and rammed the accelerator to the floorboard. Shoulders hunched, I concentrated on the path in front of me, scraping my bandana out of my eyes and peering into the night. Every muscle was tense, anticipating the gargoyles’ return. The old truck engine screamed in protest as I taxed it. My heart beat so hard it made my chest hurt. Millie pressed closer. I could feel her shaking. I opened my mouth to tell her to get back to her side and put on her seat belt but my vision started to cloud. No, no, no…not now. The familiar chill of a premonition flooded my veins like ice water. My racing heart seemed to pause between one beat and the next. Millie’s eyes beamed a radiant crystalline green at me. Mine were a ghostly grey reflection in the shiny surface of hers. The outside world disappeared. The only reality in the black void was the warmth of my twin’s fingers interlaced with mine. Impossibly we were propelled across time and space arriving on the open lawn in front of our cottage. A horrible scream rent the air. My mother. If my spirit form could have gotten any colder it would have turned into solid ice. I tried to move toward the sound of her voice even though I knew from past experience that it would do no good. My body and Millie’s were back in the truck fleeing from danger while our spirits existed here suspended between breaths as silent witnesses to a future we didn’t want to see. Smoking flames licked the walls of our home. Dark arrows zinged through the air released from the bows of the green skinned woodland elves who wielded them. Behind them a line of vampires with glowing red eyes and black dusters that skimmed the ground waited at attention, arms crossed over, claw tipped fingers curled into their biceps, ready to enter the action if necessary. The front door suddenly burst open and flew off its hinges. My papá stepped through the opening, his features fierce and his beautiful wings unfurled. Their brilliant crystal sheen reflected the angry fire that raged behind him. I opened my mouth exhaling a silent scream when I saw all the black arrows that had found their mark within his body. The shafts protruded from his bare chest, from his arms and his legs, all drenched with his blood. Mamá stood at his back, her ivory sleeping gown adorned with disturbing splashes of red. Papá was shielding her, but her face was pale, too pale. Another volley of arrows whizzed through the air. Millie’s mouth opened like mine but no sound came out. My father staggered his body jerking as each new projectile found its mark. My mother sobbed. The sound of her despair shredded my spirit even as more arrows ripped into my papá’s flesh. Red gaze brighter than the flames, my father turned his head away from the elves. His platinum hair was a halo of pure light but his glare was a dark promise of retribution focusing on an auburn headed figure standing off to one side leaning casually on an ebony staff. The expression on his unhandsome face implied boredom, but I knew that it was a deception. After all, he was the Father of Lies. “Raph,” my mother wheezed. “Drink.” She lifted her arm up offering him her wrist, and he took it, incisors elongating as he bent his head piercing her delicate flesh. His broken body pulled straighter with each deep pull that he took. “Enough.” The auburn headed man made a slicing motion in the air with his staff. It morphed into a wickedly sharp scythe. “Step aside, Raphael. I have indulged you long enough this night. I have need of Panacea. She is too valuable as a healer. I have changed my mind about letting you have her. I am here to reclaim what is rightfully mine.” Even within the spirit realm I swayed beneath the authority of his persuasive voice. Not an Offspring. Not just any Progeny. One of the Favored. “Over my dead body, Apollyon.” My father’s eyes blazed. No! I shouted my protest without any sound. Don’t antagonize him, Papá, please. This was the Destroyer. The ruler of the In Between. The one he had continually warned us about. I tried to move again but failed. “That is assured already, Raphael. It will be my pleasure to send you back to the Otherside. Only this time you’ll pay the toll and cross the Styx the way everyone else does… as a shade.” The demon laughed and seemed to grow in size. “I implore you to desist from exsanguinating from the lovely Panacea as those arrows are obsidian tipped. Even if you drain every drop of blood from her desirable body, you are only delaying the inevitable.” “No,” my mother gasped. For an immortal obsidian meant permanent injury and death if the wound was severe enough. And my poor papá’s injuries were severe. He looked like a pincushion. Tears leaked from my mother’s eyes. She and my father exchanged a longing look. Mamá slid her hand along my papá’s stubble darkened cheek and he covered it with his own. The love between them, the depth of their pain, the resignation to their fate, witnessing all of that broke something inside of me. For there was something Apollyon did not know. My father’s impending death ensured hers as well. My mother inhaled sharply as my father, the legendary Raphael, crumpled. His majestic wings seemed to shrivel. He dropped to his knees. Behind him the walls of the house he had built collapsed inward on themselves as if already mourning his loss. My mamá slid down beside him offering him her wrist again but he refused it. “Go, preciosa,” he pleaded, his voice still strong but the cost of saying those words to the woman who was his other half was plain to see. The ravaged lines of his face deepened. “Never.” Ebony hair skimming the blood splotched skin of her slim shoulders, she shook her head in refusal. “Leave,” he whispered. “You must. There may be some way to reverse the damage to you.” “No.” She moved in front of him, hands stroking his cheeks tenderly as she did every day, as if no one else existed but the two of them, as if they had all the time in the world to express their affection. Even among Apollyon’s minions I heard murmured misgivings. She lifted his pierced and bleeding hands to her lips and rained kisses across them. “Where you go, I go. Always.” Seeming to use the last of his remaining strength my father caught her as she suddenly slumped forward. Slowly he lifted his head and stared at the spot where Millie and I observed. Though it wasn’t possible, it seemed to me that he saw us. A tear spilled from his eye. A single tear. A crimson tear. One of regret? Or one of condemnation toward me? Had Apollyon discovered our location because of the scrying Millie and I had done? Despair superseded guilt as I watched my father wrap his arms tightly around my mother as if to absorb her into himself. Then he closed his eyes, never again to reopen them. “What is this?” Apollyon roared only just then beginning to realize the truth. That my parents were a Fated couple. When one died, so did the other. Forever together. Never apart. Flames flickered behind my parent’s forms. Bright sparks lifted into the stars of the black night. Our cottage became their funeral pyre. Blackness suddenly descended over my eyes. I blinked trying to clear it. I wanted to see my parents one last time but it was not to be. I had no control over when the visions came or went. My spirit slamming back inside my body, I glanced in the truck’s rearview mirror, noticing the plume of smoke billowing above the forest tree line. I knew with dreaded certainty that it was from our burning home. The shadowy branches of the tree line along the road seemed to reach for our vehicle as we barreled by them. Droplets of Ernesto’s blood trickled across the windshield reminiscent of my father’s last tear. “No, no, no,” my sister chanted. She knew as well as I did that our vision had been a glimpse into a very near and certain future. I whipped the wheel around without letting off on the gas. My elbow hit the door. Millie slid into me. We had to go back. Back to the cottage. Back to save our parents. The fire had started, but maybe if we hurried we could alter what we had foreseen. But there would be no awakening from this horrible dream. The dark night became darker still as one of the gargoyles landed hard on the hood of the truck, the weight of his stone form indenting a deeper wedge in the metal than where Ernesto had fallen. Severely damaged, the engine abruptly locked. The vehicle rocked back and forth from the force of impact as momentum carried us forward. I screamed. My chin smashed into the steering wheel. I bit through my tongue. My body collided with Millie as we tumbled around inside the hard unforgiving confines of the cabin. I blacked out briefly. When I regained awareness the vehicle was deadly still and Millie was slumped in a ball on the floorboard beside me. Before I could reach for her the crumpled doors of the vehicle were ripped from their hinges. Bloodless concrete hands snatched me from my perch. I kicked and squirmed trying to break loose but to no avail. “Be still, little girl.” Malevolent statue grey eyes flickering with a fluorescent hue beamed down at me before he snapped his head to the left. The nostrils at the end of his snout flared. “The Master will arrive shortly.” He dropped me to my feet on the ground in front of him. My bandana was lost. My hair was in my eyes. My mouth tasted like copper. Every muscle in my body was sore. And my heart was completely broken. The saggy eyed horned gargoyle stomped toward us with Millie in his arms. Her breathing sounded shallow. Her eyes were closed. I tried to dislodge the gargoyles’ cold grip from my shoulders but couldn’t. His claws only dug deeper into my flesh. “Millie, wake up,” I pleaded but she didn’t reply. Precious minutes passed while I was forced to stand alone alternating my tear blurred gaze from Millie to the smoke above the trees knowing what was unfolding only a few miles away but helpless to do anything to change it. Just when I felt like I was about to collapse, headlights from an approaching vehicle illuminated the wreckage of the truck first, then the horned gargoyle who held my sister cradled in his massive stone arms. Keep breathing, Amelia. Don’t die on me. “Kneel.” Marble hands dug unforgivingly into my shoulders. “Eyes to the ground prisoner and the Master may let you live,” the gargoyle hissed though his voice wavered. I did as he ordered but my heart thumped with dread knowing that his Master was Apollyon, one so feared he made even a creature of impenetrable stone tremble.
Michelle Mankin is the New York Times bestselling author of the Black Cat Records series of novels. Rock Stars. Romance. Redemption. Love Evolution, Love Revolution, and Love Resolution are a BRUTAL STRENGTH centered trilogy, combining the plot underpinnings of Shakespeare with the drama, excitement, and indisputable sexiness of the rock 'n roll industry. Things take a bit of an edgier, once upon a time turn with the TEMPEST series. These pierced, tatted, and troubled Seattle rockers are young and on the cusp of making it big, but with serious obstacles to overcome that may prevent them from ever getting there. Rock stars, myths, and legends collide with paranormal romance in a totally mesmerizing way in the MAGIC series. Catch the perfect wave with irresistible surfers in the ROCK STARS, SURF AND SECOND CHANCES series. Romance and self-discovery, the FINDING ME series is a Tempest spin off with a more experienced but familiar cast of characters. When Michelle is not prowling the streets of her Texas town listening to her rock or NOLA funk music much too loud, she is putting her daydreams down on paper or traveling the world with her family and friends, sometimes for real, and sometimes just for pretend. BRUTAL STRENGTH series: Love Evolution: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B0080ZCZ14 Love Revolution: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00A6DE8IG Love Resolution: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00CC705J0 Love Rock’ollection: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00P9KD71A TEMPEST series (also available in audio): Irresistible Refrain: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00FLG5KPS Enticing Interlude: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00I7LGQOI Captivating Bridge: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00KGFB0IK Relentless Rhythm: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00MTWGT5C Tempest Raging: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00VO692FS Tempting Tempo: Summer 2016 Scandalous Beat The MAGIC series (also available in audio) STRANGE MAGIC: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01DOHDKP2 https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id1099990321 http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/strange-magic-michelle-mankin/1123628500?ean=2940153251974 https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/strange-magic-6 DREAM MAGIC: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01F13PQX6 https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/id1110245185 http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/dream-magic-michelle-mankin/1123750473?ean=2940153223643 https://store.kobobooks.com/en-us/ebook/dream-magic-3 TWISTED MAGIC ROCK STARS, SURF AND SECOND CHANCES series: Outside (also available in audio): http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00YLPMB8E Riptide Oceanside FINDING ME series (also available in audio): Find Me: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01AIYDHWA?ref_=pe_2427780_160035660 Remember Me: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01AIYDI60?ref_=pe_2427780_160035660 Keep Me: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01AIZ7R66?ref_=pe_2427780_160035660 Connect with Michelle Mankin on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/pages/Author-Michelle-Mankin/233503403414065 On Twitter: https://twitter.com/MichelleMankin On her website: http://www.michellemankin.com/ On Instagram: https://instagram.com/michellemankin/ Receive the Black Cat Records newsletter: http://eepurl.com/Lvgzf
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Fated Memories - Book Blitz and Giveaway

6/6/2016

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Fated Memories
Joan Carney
Publication date: April 15th 2016
Genres: New Adult, Romance, Time-Travel

A woman, a war, a vision of the future past…

Burdened with the scars of a tortured childhood and a shattered romance, Kitty is being forced to resign from the dull, anonymous job she’s been hiding behind. With her life in shambles and her friends moving on without her, she jumps at her cousin, Maggie’s, invitation to visit. However, Maggie’s new boyfriend, Simon, has a secret that accidentally hurls the trio a hundred and fifty years into the past. Trapped in the midst of the bloodiest war in American history, the events that unfold will require more mettle than Kitty’s ever had.

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EXCERPT:

Kitty’s hands shook and her vision blurred with tears. It didn’t matter. After having read the short note three times, the words ‘… transfer to the second floor’ had been engraved on her brain. She’d found the letter in her mail slot at the hospital where she worked, just this morning. That’s Richard’s floor! The wound from their breakup still scarred her heart. What do I do now? Quit my job?

The elevator doors opened and Richard Delaney stepped off surrounded by his physical therapy staff, who were tittering at one of his clever quips. Kitty wheeled around, making a beeline for the restroom. She couldn’t let him or those bitchy nurses see her cry. In her haste to become invisible, she miscalculated the corner of the wall and, smacking her shoulder against it, bounced back flat on her ass. Silence washed over the unit as everyone’s eyes turned to her.

Flushed with embarrassment, she scrambled to her feet, faced her audience and curtsied. “I’m here all week, folks, don’t miss the show!” Then she burst through the lady’s room door.

Kitty locked herself in the stall, working to salvage her dignity while dialing her cell phone for her pillar of strength; the one who always knew what to do.

“Ma?” Despite her efforts to control it, her voice still shook.

“Kitten, honey, are you crying? What’s the matter, are those silly boys in school teasing you again? Should I go speak with the principal?”

“Funny, Mom, no I only need to talk to someone. Remember when I told you the hospital makes the ward clerks reapply for their jobs every few years so they can weed out the ones they no longer want? Well, it’s that time again. I got my take-it-or-leave-it offer today and it says they’re bumping me from the step-down unit, to the pits of the med/surg dungeon. If I don’t accept it, I’ll be out of a job. I don’t know what to do.”

Silence.

“Mom, are you still there?”

“Yes, I’m here.” She blew out a long breath. “Kitty, you’re a smart lady, but if you don’t respect yourself enough to stand up and take charge of your life, you’ll always be at the mercy of others. Remember, the choices we make follow us and decide our fate.”

“I know, Mom, but…”

“The best advice I have for you, sweetheart, is to move home with us so you can go back to college and learn more marketable skills.”

Kitty had battled with them before over this. In her mind, living with her parents at her age was the same as having a big red letter “L” tattooed on her forehead. “I see, okay. Um, I have to get back to work now. I’ll talk to you later, Ma. Thanks for listening.”

As she washed off the mascara tracks from her tears, she studied her reflection in the restroom mirror, mulling over the misery that was her life. You’re almost thirty years old, Kitty Trausch, what have you got to show for it? A man? Not since Richard dumped me last year. A career? More like a crappy job that’s become unbearable.

Kitty remembered her mom’s mantra “When the world gets rough,” she’d say, “remind yourself of the good things you have.” She thought hard for a positive slant, but only came up with her prized closet full of shoes and salvation from her acne plague. Great, at least that and two-seventy-five will get me on the subway. Oh, and one more good thing. Rooming with Sonia allowed her to walk the short distance to the hospital and not have to ride the train from Tuckahoe to Manhattan. Wow, I’m overwhelmed with gratitude.


Author Bio:

A transplant from the Bronx to San Diego, Joan’s lucky number is four. She has four children, four grandchildren, drinks about four cups of coffee a day, and is now enjoying her fourth career as a novelist. When not planted in front of the computer writing or doing genealogy research, Joan enjoys spending time with family and friends and volunteers at the local church.

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